by Jayne Bamber
Another unfamiliar name – Harriet began to worry that even the staff knew more about her new family than she did. “Pray, who is Miss de Bourgh?”
Sally glanced down at her feet. “Oh, but I shouldn’t have said a word. Miss de Bourgh was her ladyship’s daughter; she died a year ago. Her ladyship does not like to talk about her – Mrs. Banks once told my sister Sarah off for saying her name in her ladyship’s hearing.”
“Well, perhaps I had better not wear anything that belonged to her,” Harriet said, pondering that she had a mysterious deceased sister as well. But it would not do to think on it, and accidentally bring it up, if her mother would disapprove. “Is Mrs. Fitzwilliam of a similar size to myself? Perhaps one of her gowns would be better.”
Sally wrinkled her nose as she considered, and selected a very lovely green frock from the wardrobe. “If it pleases you, Miss Harriet, I think this one would be best. You may be just a little taller than Mrs. Fitzwilliam, but this one was a little long on her, and she never had it taken up. Anyhow, I’m sure her ladyship will be wanting to take you to a dressmaker ere long, and then you shall have all sorts of lovely new things that fit you just right.”
Of course – certainly my own clothes, just like my manners, are sure to be found wanting. “Well, I must do my best for now,” Harriet sighed. Within a quarter of an hour, she found herself quite transformed. The green silk was embellished with a great deal more ribbon and lace than she had ever worn before, and Sally had arranged her hair far more elaborately than she had expected, given the girl’s assurance that it was one of the simpler styles worn by Mrs. Fitzwilliam.
She took in the sight of herself in a long upright mirror in the corner of the room, and felt herself to be something of a pretender. Surely that could not be her, looking so very grand! Any minute now, I shall wake in my room at Mrs. Goddard’s and how the other girls shall laugh at me for having such a dream!
Sally produced a very fine shawl from the wardrobe, soft white wool with colorful flowers embroidered across it, and as she draped it about Harriet’s shoulders. “Her ladyship is always fussing over the other young ladies to wear their shawls about them – she is ever fearful of her young people taking a chill.”
“Thank you, Sally,” Harriet replied, finding this the most useful piece of information out of all she had gleaned from her new maid. She must be sure to always have a shawl about her.
There was a knock at the adjoining door, and a moment later Mrs. Weston entered, declaring herself quite ready to meet Sir Gerald and Lady Catherine. “The moment is upon us at last,” she said, taking Harriet by the arm on their way downstairs. “Chin up, my dear, I am sure your mother shall be very pleased to set eyes on you at last!”
Harriet’s heart pounded as the drawing room door was opened by a footman, and Mrs. Weston led her into the presence of her parents – her parents! She let out an audible gasp at the sight of them. Sir Gerald was seated beside Lady Catherine on an ornate sofa by the fireplace, and he rose and gave a very proper bow as Harriet and Mrs. Weston came into the room. He was a tall, portly man, appearing to be of an age with Mr. Weston, but vastly more distinguished. His clothes were very fine, his stature commanding, and his countenance, which appeared affable and open, was framed by wispy white curls.
Lady Catherine, standing at his side, was perhaps the most beautiful sight Harriet had ever laid eyes upon. She too was tall, but thin and poised, with a countenance that must have been resplendently beautiful in her youth. She was younger than Harriet had imagined, only in her early forties, her honey-colored hair fading to gray at the temples. Harriet studied the woman’s features, looking for traces of herself in them.
Beside her, Mrs. Weston dropped into a curtsey, and Harriet hurriedly did the same. For a moment no one spoke as Harriet and her parents took in the sight of one another, and then, at last, Sir Gerald clapped his hands eagerly and stepped forward. “Mrs. Weston, it is a pleasure to meet you. Lady Catherine and I thank you for bringing our beloved daughter to us. We have quite a full house already, or else we would have made the journey into Surrey ourselves.”
“It was my pleasure to escort Miss Sutton to London,” Mrs. Weston replied. “Your sister Mrs. Goddard sends her warm regards, of course, though she was not able to leave her pupils to make the journey with us.”
“Of course, of course,” Sir Gerald replied merrily, before turning his attention toward Harriet. “Well now, daughter, let us have a look at you then, eh?” He took her by the hand and led her a little further into the room, while Lady Catherine hung back, her expression one of unreadable emotion. “Well, well, you are quite grown-up indeed,” he said. “Yes, just as I had imagined you would be. You favor your mother, I think, and thank heaven for that! You should certainly not want to favor your fat old Papa!” Sir Gerald guffawed loudly, and Harriet volunteered a nervous smile of her own.
She belatedly became aware of two other people in the room – two elegant young women seated in the corner, at the pianoforte. They were both very genteel in appearance, one pale and mousy, and the other darker-complected, with frizzy black curls framing her face. She supposed one of them to be Mrs. Fitzwilliam, and the other perhaps one of Sir Gerald’s daughters. They exchanged a gleeful smile between themselves before coming forward to greet Harriet.
“Harriet, my dear,” her father said, “Allow me to present my wife’s niece by marriage, Kate Fitzwilliam.” Sir Gerald gestured to the paler girl. “And this is one of my daughters from my first marriage, Cecily Middleton, the youngest of my five children. But then I suppose now you are the youngest of my six! Well, Kate and Cecily are staying with us, along with their husbands, who are at their club this afternoon. You shall meet the gentlemen this evening.”
Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Middleton both gave her a proper curtsey and exclaimed their delight in meeting their new relation, and despite their warmth and sincerity, Harriet found herself so tongue-tied at the sight of such fine ladies that she could make no reply but a nervous laugh before falling stupidly silent.
Mrs. Weston came to her rescue with a very civil reply. “Mrs. Fitzwilliam, Mrs. Middleton, it is a pleasure to meet you both. Harriet has been so excited at the prospect of being brought amongst her new family, I am sure she is very eager to become better acquainted with you all.”
“I do hope so,” Mrs. Fitzwilliam said with an enthusiastic smile. “Cecily and I have talked of little else since she and her husband arrived in Town yesterday. But I wonder, Mrs. Weston, if you would like to take a turn with us in my aunt’s lovely garden? I should think Miss Harriet must be wanting to be alone with her parents for a time, and though Cecily and I are eager to speak more with her ourselves, we must wait our turn.”
“I think some fresh air amongst the flowers sounds perfectly lovely,” Mrs. Weston replied.
The two women escorted Mrs. Weston from the room, and Sir Gerald closed the door behind them. In an instant, Lady Catherine rushed forward and took Harriet in her arms. After recovering from her surprise, Harriet felt herself returning the embrace with all the same fervor, and before she knew what she was about, she burst into tears. “Oh Mother,” she sighed, feeling as though she had found a piece of herself she never knew she had been missing.
Lady Catherine clung to her still, caressing her hair and patting her shoulders, swaying slightly, and a moment later Sir Gerald wrapped his arms around them both, humming gently with contentment. Harriet felt as though her heart would overflow. Her anxiety had completely dissolved, replaced with a great deal of feelings she could not entirely define. She was an orphan no longer, she had parents! She was loved, she was wanted, and she was whole at last.
At length Sir Gerald drew away, and a moment later Lady Catherine pulled back as well, wiping away her tears to take in the sight of Harriet. “Oh my dear, dear girl,” she sighed. Sir Gerald offered her his handkerchief, and produced another one from his pocket for Harriet.
Harriet dabbed at her face as her mother did likewise, and the
n she began to laugh, anxious and unbridled laughter that sounded entirely foreign even to her. Sir Gerald laughed as well, and gave her a kiss on the forehead before entreating her to join them on the sofa. “Come, sit with us my dear, I daresay this is a watery beginning indeed,” he cried, for there were tears glistening in his own eyes as well. Harriet did as she was bid, and sat down in between her two parents, who each instantly seized one of her hands and leaned in close.
Harriet hardly knew which way to look first, but settled on gazing with adoration upon the face of her mother, even as her father still clung to her other hand. “I have a mother,” she whispered again, trying to hold in her tears.
“Yes, my love, you do,” Lady Catherine replied. “Oh, my dear girl, can you ever forgive me for sending you away?”
Harriet nodded feebly, hardly knowing how to reply. “I hope you are not displeased with me, now that I am here.”
Lady Catherine cupped Harriet’s face with both of her hands, wiping Harriet’s tears away with her thumbs. “To me you are just as perfect now as you were the day you were born. Oh, how I have longed for you all these years.”
Sir Gerald cleared his throat, and Harriet turned to look at him, feeling the loss of her mother’s touch instantly; her hands sought out Lady Catherine’s even as she looked upon her father. “You must have a great many questions for us,” said he.
Harriet nodded again. She certainly did, though she was finding it difficult to give voice to any of them. “Yes, Father,” she squeaked.
Sir Gerald laughed heartily, seeming to understand her. “Though you may know little of us, we have heard a great deal about you already, and we have something of an advantage in that respect. Mrs. Goddard has sent me countless letters over the years, detailing the progress of the foundling child I gave over to her care. Your first steps, your first words, every milestone of your life has been documented for us, and though it pained us to part with you, we at least had the comfort of knowing you were alive and well.”
“And yet, I knew nothing of you,” Harriet cried. “I always assumed my parents were dead, or had abandoned me.”
Beside her, Lady Catherine squeezed Harriet’s hand again as she wept softly. “It broke my heart to give you up, my dear girl. I cannot tell you how many times I have longed for this moment. I suppose we must tell you the truth.”
With silent tears continuing to stream down her face, Harriet listened intently as her mother revealed the history of her birth. The tale was a long and romantic one, full of forbidden love, tragic loss, and decades of quiet yearning. When her mother finished, Harriet sat in shock as she considered all that her parents had suffered. “How cruel,” she said at last, “that you were kept apart all those years! But how happy that you can finally be together at last!”
“You must be very ashamed of your parents,” her father sighed. “We were not wed when you were born – I know this cannot be what you would have wished, as no doubt the world will know the truth.”
Harriet shook her head with confusion. “I do not understand. Why should I be ashamed? A week ago, I was nobody. How could I ever be ashamed of you? Even if you were not so very grand, I should be happy just to be reunited with you.”
“You are a sweet child,” her mother said. “But the world will know that you are illegitimate. I understand the society to which you are accustomed in Highbury is chiefly pleasant sort of country people, but here in London you may find society less forgiving of your origins. No matter – we mean to give you a dowry, my dear, and that shall protect you from the worst of society’s derision.”
A dowry? “Oh dear,” Harriet cried, “I am sure that is not necessary, Lady Catherine.”
“You must call me Mother, my dear. And of course it is necessary; you are my daughter – our daughter. From this day forward, you shall want for nothing. The world will know that you are protected.”
“I am?”
“Of course you are,” her mother said, tipping up her chin. “You are the granddaughter of an earl, after all. We mean to settle fifty thousand pounds on you, though it is my hope that you will not wish to marry any time soon, as we have only just gotten you back.”
Harriet momentarily swooned, falling back against her father, who drew her into an affectionate embrace and gave her a gentle shake, and her mother leaned forward, helping her to sit upright once more. “I am sorry, Mother, Father – did you say fifty thousand pounds?”
Her mother nodded slowly. “It ought to have been my daughter Anne’s dowry, but as her husband refused it when they were wed, the money is my own to do with as I please, and it pleases me to give it to you.”
The room seemed to swim before her eyes once more, and Harriet looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, until the dizziness subsided. “I believe I must thank you, only I cannot accept such a sum. All I have ever wanted is a family; is that not enough?”
Lady Catherine laughed. “She may look like me, but she is certainly your daughter,” she chided Sir Gerald.
Her father wrapped his arm around Harriet and drew her closer, taking her hand in his. “Let us not squabble about such things for the present, my dear. Once you have seen more of the world, I daresay you will begin to realize why we have chosen to give you such a substantial inheritance. London society is very different from Highbury – the people are different, and so are the rules. As Miss Smith of Mrs. Goddard’s school, I am sure you had no mind to marry, perhaps ever, unless to some farmer or tradesman, should they offer for you. Miss Harriet Sutton has far better prospects. Your life is about to change drastically, my dear, but your mother and I will see to your every comfort, so that it is not a difficult transition.”
“Oh yes, of course,” Harriet replied, feeling her anxiety begin to return. Of course her life would be different now, that much at least she ought to know.
Her mother gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You are my daughter, and have been brought up as almost a gentlewoman yourself – you shall do splendidly. There will be a great many balls and parties, family dinners and morning calls to some of our acquaintance here in Town. I am certain your manners want only a little polishing, and of course we mean to provide all the instruction you require. You shall become a very accomplished young woman indeed. I had thought to hire a dancing master for you, and for your sister Cecily and your cousins as well. We shall order you a new wardrobe, and perhaps hire some tutors. I understand your education has been acceptable at Mrs. Goddard’s, but your father and I will ensure that it is perfected. Do you play or sing? Do you paint or draw? I understand Mrs. Goddard teaches some refinements at her school, drawing and embroidery, as well as the modern languages. I think some additional instruction in matters of etiquette may be required, but you have nothing to fear. You are a gentleman’s daughter; these things are simply in your blood already.”
Harriet stared at her mother in bewilderment. Despite what must have been meant as encouragement, she began to feel quite inadequate. It stung that her parents imagined that such extensive improvement was necessary to make her acceptable for the society in which they moved, though she knew not how to give voice to her apprehension. She merely nodded. “Whatever you require, I am certain I shall try my best.”
“I am certain you shall,” her father guffawed again. “I think your mother quite gets ahead of herself. Let us begin by getting to know each other better first, for we have between us a rather large family. I am sure my children and your mother’s nieces and nephews will be just as pleased to meet you as we are. Yes, I am sure you shall get on famously.”
Her mother launched into a detailed description of their extended family – Sir Gerald had five children from his first marriage, four of whom were married already. His eldest son, Samuel, was at the family estate, Cranbook, at present, as his wife had recently delivered a son. His eldest daughter, next in age, had been married these five years to Mr. Thomas Audley, and had two children. They were gone to his estate in the country along with another of her half-sisters,
Cynthia, whose name Lady Catherine seemed to pronounce with distaste. The second son, called Seymour, was attending to matters of business at his estate in Scotland, though his wife was in London at present. Cecily Middleton was the youngest, only a month older than Harriet, and had only just arrived with her husband from Devonshire.
“Five brothers and sisters,” Harriet exclaimed, “And nieces and nephews besides! I am an aunt – I would never have believed it possible!”
“You and Cecily shall get on very well together, I think,” her father said. “She and Mrs. Fitzwilliam are thick as thieves, the two of them.”
“Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” Harriet said, struggling to recall just how that lady was related to them all. “She is one of your nieces? I do not think I shall be able to keep all these new relations straight in my mind!”
“You will do very well indeed,” her mother insisted. “Cecily and Jasper, and Robert and Kate are staying here with us; I think it a good sort of beginning for you to grow acquainted with the young folks here. You shall be introduced to the others in good time, of course. My nephew Fitzwilliam means to give a dinner party in your honor next week, and then you shall meet the rest of the family. I am certain they will be absolutely enchanted with you, my dear.”
Harriet could not credit it. They seemed to be a very grand, large family, and she rather wondered how she would ever find her place amongst them. The prospect of so many new relations, and balls and parties and new clothes, dancing masters and tutors, newly acquired wealth and accomplishments – it was all too much. Harriet asked if she might be permitted to go upstairs and lie down.
Lady Catherine appeared momentarily disappointed, but quickly reassured her that she was at liberty to do as she pleased, this now being her home. Harriet accepted her mother’s parting compliments as graciously as she could before she quit the room; she was still half afraid that she would wake up from a dream, but it was not long before a restful sleep claimed her.