Even as she spoke, Catherine knew this would not satisfy Becky.
She could see her sister was both distressed and determined; on such matters as these, she would not change her mind.
Catherine moved to look out of the window. The leaden sky gave her no comfort at all, merely mirroring their disconsolate mood.
Meanwhile Becky, picking up another letter, said in a rather strained voice,
"I wonder what he wants."
Catherine swung round and saw her sister ripping open a sealed letter.
"It's Walter," said Becky. "He never writes unless he wants something. I cannot think what has provoked him to put pen to paper. Perhaps he too has heard of Emily's illness and is writing to inform me…" she mused.
But, when she had it open, her surprise was far greater and the news it brought much more disconcerting than Jessica's had been.
Becky's son Walter was writing, he said, to acquaint his mother with the fact that he and his wife, Pauline, viewed with some alarm a recent report that had reached them, concerning herself.
Astonished, Becky read on, while Catherine looked over her sister's shoulder. Walter Tate's letter continued:
My dear wife, Pauline, has recently received from a friend in London a letter containing a somewhat disturbing piece of information relating to you, which naturally, she has communicated to me.
Of course, I need not say that I do not believe a word of it and have told her so.
But Pauline did insist that I should write to you at once, to alert you to this clearly mischievous rumour, so you may be given an opportunity to deny it.
I have agreed with her that this is a sensible and fair course of action, hence this letter, which I trust you will receive in the same spirit.
Clearly, Walter was very agitated about something, but as he had not as yet indicated what specific piece of news his wife had recently received, Becky was quite bewildered as to the reason for his agitation.
She was not kept in ignorance long. Turning over the page, she read on:
It is said, dear Mother, that you are about to marry again, scarcely a year after the death of my late father, and to a certain foreign gentleman, who lives in London and travels regularly between England and his native Italy. We hear that his family did champion the cause of Mr Garibaldi and are therefore now in his favour. Be that as it may, I cannot credit such an outrageous report as I have heard connecting you with this person and
wish to deny it forthwith.
Doubtless it is a fabrication, which ought be promptly demolished, and I would be assisted greatly in this endeavour if you would write to confirm my belief that this story is wholly untrue or the result of a misunderstanding, perhaps?
Pauline suggests that you should place such a denial in writing, in order to give the lie to the rumours, which may originate from those who seek to impugn your reputation and damage my family's prospects as well.
By the time she had read both pages of the letter, Becky was no longer confused; rather, she was incensed, not at the rumours that Walter believed would impugn her character, but at the presumptuous nature of his letter and his demand that she deny the "rumour" forthwith.
"Cathy, can you believe this?" she cried, turning to her sister. "My son writes to demand that I deny in writing my intention to marry again because it will damage the prospects of his family if I do so. This is preposterous! What does he mean, it will damage his prospects?" she asked, handing over the offending document.
Catherine, who had been deeply shocked by her nephew's arrogant and insensitive letter to his mother, could scarcely speak. After a moment's hesitation, she said, "I am as dismayed as you are, Becky; I cannot imagine what possessed him to write such a letter. It is very strange indeed. Could it be that Walter fears that if you marry again, he will lose some part of the family inheritance he hopes for?"
Becky's indignation was almost explosive. "He cannot be serious! Walter inherited all of Mr Tate's business interests in England and Wales, including the Tates' house and estate in Matlock. As you know, Walter and Pauline objected most strenuously when I sold the house in London to buy this property, and subsequently, I set aside a certain sum of money from the proceeds of the sale to be held in trust for their children. What more does he want from me?" she demanded.
"No, Cathy, it is greed that makes them do it. It grieves me to say this of my son, but Walter has always been selfish, even as a little boy, and since his marriage to Pauline, who is not averse to some self-aggrandisement, he has become even more so. He is weak too and will do as she asks in these matters.
But, I admit, I had not thought he could be as callous as this."
Catherine could see she was hurt, more than ever before. "Perhaps," she said, trying to assuage her pain, "perhaps it is just the shock of hearing from some stranger of your intention to marry. Should you not write to him, confirm the story, and explain your reasons? It may help him understand…"
Catherine was conciliatory, but Becky would have none of it. "I shall do no such thing. Why should I have to explain to my son and daughter-in-law, who have hitherto shown no interest in my happiness whatsoever, why I wish to marry Mr Contini? What reason must I give, except that I love him dearly and hope to be happy with him? Even if I were to ignore the rudeness of his reference to Mr Contini as 'a certain foreign gentleman,' by what right does he ask such a thing of me?"
Becky's words betrayed both her indignation and hurt. "No, Cathy, I shall not explain, but I will confirm that his wife's informant, whoever she might be, is right. I do indeed intend to marry again and expect him to be pleased for me, because I am going to be happy at last.
"As for his fears that my reputation or his prospects are in jeopardy as a consequence, I shall disabuse him by pointing out that not only has the late Mr Tate been dead above a year, he had lived apart from me in the United States, by his own choice, for almost a year before his death. Furthermore, I shall take pleasure in advising him that I have nothing now that he can expect to inherit, so he need have no fears on that score."
Catherine could understand her sister's outrage and did not try to restrain her anger, hoping that, when she had time to reflect, Becky would write a calmer response to Walter's insensitive letter.
While she had no doubt Walter Tate deserved all of the opprobrium Becky was about to heap upon him, Catherine's nature was such that she would at all times prefer to tread a more peaceable path than the one her sister appeared set upon. Apart from herself, Walter was her sister's only living relative, and it would be hard for her to be estranged from him, too.
Before leaving to return home, she did try to advise some degree of restraint.
"Do not let Walter's thoughtlessness goad you into bitterness, Becky dear; it is not worthwhile, especially when you are preparing for such a happy occasion. Why do you not speak to Mr Contini before you write?" she suggested.
Becky smiled; she knew her sister well and thought to humour her, saying,
"Thank you, Cathy, I wish I had your sweetness of disposition, but Walter's gratuitous provocation has offended and grieved me, and I do not wish to draw Mr Contini into this matter. He is not responsible for any of it, and I will not have him insulted and distressed on my account. No, Cathy, you can trust me, I shall write to Walter and tell him what I think, but I promise not to be abusive or rude. You can count on it."
Shortly after her sister had left, still somewhat anxious about her intentions, Becky retired to her study and composed a letter to her son that, by its tone and language, could leave him in no doubt of her opinion of his conduct.
Scrupulous not to lay herself open to a charge of discourtesy, but equally careful to be entirely candid, she informed him that it was neither his right nor his duty to demand statements or explanations of her intention to marry again or not as she pleased. She wrote:
In view of the circumstances of the last years of my marriage to your father, I am unable to share your sense of shock that, as a widow, I should de
cide to marry again. Nor do I feel it should concern you that the person I choose to marry is a "foreign gentleman." Had I not received your letter when I did, I would have written to you in the course of this week to inform you of my plans; as it happens, you have made that unnecessary. I can now confirm that I do intend to marry Mr Contini, with whom I have been acquainted for several years, and hope that you will not find it too difficult to wish me happiness.
The letter was concluded appropriately, read over, sealed, and despatched to the post before she could change her mind.
That should have been an end of the matter, but it was not.
Walter's extraordinary letter continued to trouble Becky for many hours, and as she contemplated its possible consequences, the effect it had upon her spirits was one of serious discomposure. She could not avoid some unease as she wondered if Walter and his wife might not, by their interference, make mischief. The gossip and rumour they could generate about her and Mr Contini may well reach the ears of Mr and Mrs Darcy at Pemberley or Caroline, even Emily, she thought.
Because she had not informed them herself, she worried that it could set their minds against her and wished with all her heart that some means might be found to set it all to right. Yet how to achieve this was an insoluble conundrum.
For the next step in her plan she had to await the return of Mr Contini from London.
Aldo Contini returned to Kent, expecting to make arrangements to travel with his wife-to-be to visit his uncle and aunt at their villa in Richmond, where she was assured of a warm welcome. His host and hostess at the Dower House were not surprised, therefore, when, not long after he had arrived, he announced his intention to visit Edgewater.
There, he was surprised to find Becky in unusually low spirits.
Concerned, he asked for an explanation and was presented with Jessica's letter. Reading it through, he was at first puzzled that Mrs Courtney, who had four children, a sister, and two brothers, should find herself so bereft of help at a time in her life when she needed support. Raised in an Italian tradition, where family ties were paramount, no matter what disagreements existed between individual members, he was at a loss to understand her situation.
Becky had to explain. "I know it seems difficult to understand, my dear, but Emily has always resisted asking her children for help, and while her brother Dr Gardiner cares for her very well, he is also a busy medical practitioner, and she does not wish to trouble him too often. As for Robert, he might as well not be there at all—he is not a particularly useful or loving brother, caring mainly for himself and his self-indulgent wife."
"Mrs Courtney and you are close friends?" he asked.
"Indeed we are, and I owe a great deal to Emily, who alone among the members of the Pemberley family remained my friend through those dismal days after Josie's death."
"And of course you wish to go to her now, yes?"
Becky could not deny it; she wanted very much to go to Emily,
"Yes, I do, especially now, because she is gravely ill and has asked to see me," she replied. She could not believe her ears when he said, "Then you shall go, and I will take you there. When do you wish to leave?"
Becky looked at him, her eyes wide in astonishment.
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I said, my love, you must go and I shall not let you travel alone,
not even with your maid, so I shall accompany you. I shall need perhaps a day to change my plans and send a message to my aunt and uncle; thereafter, we can leave as soon as you are ready."
Becky put her arms around him and hugged him to her warmly. "Thank you, my dearest, from the bottom of my heart, and God bless you," she said and did not even try to hide her tears.
She wrote to Jessica that night, advising her of their intention to travel, saying only that she would be accompanied by a friend and would be happy to stay at Oakleigh, if that was convenient.
Two days later, they left for London and thence by train for Derbyshire.
Nelly attended upon her mistress, and Sam, a trusted manservant from Edgewater, joined them, chiefly to assist with their luggage and ensure their safety and comfort on the journey north.
Although Becky had written to inform Jessica of the date of their arrival, aware of the difficulties the family faced at the time, she had not asked that they meet the train. Instead, they took a hired vehicle from the railway station to Oakleigh, arriving at the house in the middle of the afternoon.
It was clear they were expected, and to judge by the manner in which they were received, they were very welcome. Julian Darcy and Jessica appeared at the front door, without fuss or formality, to greet them and following introductions, Becky and Mr Contini were ushered into the sitting room.
The housekeeper, a kindly woman who had worked for the Gardiners at Oakleigh since Emily was a girl, assured Becky that rooms had been made ready for everyone, before taking Nelly and Sam into the kitchen for a cup of tea.
Entering the sitting room, Becky saw Emily sitting up on the couch by the large bay window, a warm rug over her knees and several cushions supporting her back. Never before had Becky seen her dear friend looking so frail. She went to her at once and knelt beside the couch.
Jessica sat on a footstool beside her mother, while Mr Contini and Julian stood to one side, beside the fire.
Emily's eyes brightened with pleasure as she smiled and took Becky's hand. "Becky my dear, I am so happy to see you. I did not know you were coming until Jessica told me this morning… I could scarcely believe it. It is very kind of you to make the journey at this time of year. Tell me, was it very uncomfortable?
I have never made such a long journey by train."
Her voice was quiet but steady, and the hand holding Becky's was warm and firm. Becky took a little time to tell Emily some details of their journey, but then, looking into her friend's eyes, she said quietly, "Emily, there is someone I wish you to meet," and turning, she beckoned to Mr Contini to come forward.
As Jessica and Julian looked on, Becky said, "Emily, this is Mr Contini, who accompanied us on our journey from Kent. He has been a friend for many years. He is a close friend of Jonathan Bingley, and his family is known also to Mr and Mrs Darcy."
As Emily smiled and extended her hand to the visitor, Becky added, "Mr Contini and I are to be married soon after Christmas."
Mr Contini had taken Emily's hand and kissed it as Becky spoke, and to the astonishment of almost everyone in the room, Emily said, "Are you? Well then, let me be the first to wish you both every happiness and say how very welcome you are, Mr Contini. I am delighted to meet you."
The door opened to admit the maid with the tea tray, interrupting the flow of conversation and providing Jessica and Julian with an opportunity to catch breath after Becky's unexpected announcement. Having had no inkling of Mr Contini's status in the party, they had been amazed, not just by the revelation that he was to marry Becky Tate but even more by the calm manner in which Emily had received the news. They looked at one another, unable to comprehend how this had come about.
Tea was served and while Jessica busied herself dispensing cake and biscuits, Julian poured Mr Contini a glass of sherry.
Emily, her face now aglow with satisfaction, spoke softly to Becky. "Becky my dear, your Mr Contini is a fine-looking man—you must tell me all about him later. Is he the son of Mr Darcy's friends, the Continis?" she asked. Becky explained that he was their nephew, had been at school with Jonathan Bingley, and was intimately acquainted with the Grantleys, all of which seemed to please Emily very much.
Emily's delight at having her friend with her once more was plain to see, while Becky's pleasure was somewhat diluted by her sadness at seeing Emily so frail and unlike her usual self.
After tea, Jessica retired upstairs to attend to the demands of her baby daughter, while it was clear that Emily and Becky wanted to be alone to talk together, leaving Julian to entertain Mr Contini.
A somewhat reserved and shy young man at the best of times,
Julian Darcy had struggled to make conversation with a complete stranger until Mr Contini himself came unexpectedly to his rescue.
"I understand, Mr Darcy, that the late Mr Gardiner had a unique collection of travel books and memorabilia in his library. I should very much like to see it, if I may."
Scarcely able to suppress a sigh of relief, Julian's face lit up with a new enthusiasm. "Yes indeed, Mr Contini, I should be most happy, come this way," he said and led the way to the library across the hall, where he left Mr Contini ensconced for the next hour, whilst he escaped upstairs to join his wife.
Meanwhile, Emily, not wishing in any way to pry, but eager to hear more of Becky's news, learnt of the circumstances in which she and Mr Contini had met and become engaged.
Woman of Influence (Pemberley Chronicles) Page 32