Unexpected Friends & Relations

by Jayne Bamber

  Mrs. Weston’s eyes grew misty. “She has been very brave indeed. You must forgive me the liberty I take in speaking of her so familiarly, but I look upon her almost as a daughter myself, for I have grown to love her so dearly these seventeen years, as I did for Isabella as well. But Emma – Emma has always been the apple of my eye. Were I to have a daughter, I would wish her to be exactly like your cousin.”

  “I am sure you know her better than I,” Rebecca admitted ruefully. “I have been a rather negligent cousin to her, I am sorry to say.”

  “I am sure she does not blame you for it. In fact, she has written you a letter, which I understand Mr. Knightley neglected to deliver to you, and so he has sent it along with me.” Mrs. Weston reached into her reticule and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, which she handed to Rebecca. “She wrote you this, when she encouraged Mr. Knightley and me to accompany Harriet to London. Even at such a time, her thoughts were for Harriet rather than her own comfort. I will tell you candidly her letter contains an invitation for you to return with us to Hartfield. Though I am to return tomorrow, I believe Mr. Knightley will remain in Town another week or two, and I hope you shall give the matter some consideration, for, as you say, though you have never been close, perhaps it is not too late.”

  Rebecca looked down at the letter in her hands. “I will certainly give it some thought, but beyond that I cannot make any promises at present.”

  “I do understand, and I would not wish to press you, though it is second nature for me to desire whatever Emma desires, you understand. Whatever would bring her happiness would please me very much, but I am sure you must also wish to become better acquainted with your cousin Harriet. I am sure whatever you choose, it will not be an easy decision for you.”

  Rebecca nodded absently, a strange tension building in her chest. “Please forgive me, Mrs. Weston, I am rather eager to read my cousin’s letter. Certainly with so many guests, my family can spare me. I believe I shall retire for the evening, though I do hope we meet again soon. I wish to thank you again, on behalf of my cousin Harriet. I can certainly see that your company means the world to her, and I can see why my cousin Emma must value it even more. I bid you goodnight – pray make my excuses to the others, if my absence is noticed.”

  “Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Weston said, giving her a maternal pat on the arm. “Remember what I said, the decision is your own to make.”

  Rebecca nodded, biting her lip as if to suppress some possible outburst of emotion, and she quietly quit the room. Once alone in her room, Rebecca sat on the edge of her bed, crouching near a flickering candle to read the letter from her cousin Emma.

  Dear Cousin Rebecca,

  I hope this letter finds you well, though I must deliver such dreadful tidings. Last October, a terrible outbreak of putrid fever plagued our village, brought on, I am told, by the presence of gypsies in the area. Many in the village were afflicted, and our family was not spared. My father, rest his soul, was one of the first afflicted. His age as well as his constitution made recovery quite impossible. Within a fortnight, most of our household was similarly stricken, and though my brother-in-law John and I eventually recovered, my dear sister Isabella was not so fortunate. She passed away about a fortnight after our poor father.

  Fortunately, her five children were all spared, for she arranged for their removal from the house, though she refused to leave our father’s side. Her devotion to him, till the end, was selfless and brave, but it cost her everything.

  I pray you forgive me for not making these circumstances known to you sooner, and can only justify my silence by telling you that it has been John’s wish that we keep to ourselves, and we have had very little intercourse with any of my mother’s family. I had a very civil letter from our lady grandmother in Shrewsbury, though I understand she was much occupied in the arrangements of your brothers’ weddings just before Christmastide – please do give Cousin Richard and Cousin Robert my heartfelt congratulations on the occasion of their marriages. I know Isabella would have been so happy for them, as she was always fond of them in our youth.

  I write you now after the most curious discovery, that my dear friend Harriet Smith, now Harriet Sutton, shall become your cousin as well. This singular occurrence at once deprives me of a very dear companion whom I have been fortunate enough to rely upon during my months of mourning, and yet fills me with hope for her future. Though I hope you shall come to cherish her as I do, I must ask you to consider forgoing the pleasure of partaking in the festivities her mother has planned for your family, if you should consent to visit me here at Hartfield.

  I know such a visit can have little to tempt you away from what must promise to be a delightful season in London, and I shall certainly understand if my request is quite impossible. No doubt my dear Harriet’s arrival into the presence of your own family must necessitate your remaining there, and if that proves to be the case, I shall be happy for Harriet to have your company. Though she is full of innocent optimism regarding her bright new future, and I long to put aside my own wretchedness and rejoice for her, I cannot help but worry that she should truly be happy there. I will be every day looking forward to a letter from her confirming that her reception has been everything she hoped, and if you yourself are unable to come, I should like very much to hear your opinion of our dear mutual friend.

  Yet until I hear it from you directly, I shall treasure the hope that you find it in your heart to accept my invitation, for I can promise little except that you shall be very, very welcome indeed. I have few memories of your previous visits in our younger years, but those that I do have are dear to me indeed, and I should like very much to make new ones with you in the coming months.

  I shall entrust this letter to my dearest friends, Mrs. Weston and Mr. Knightley, the two most excellent people of my admittedly limited acquaintance, in the hope that they shall take up my cause and prevail upon you at last. Let their excellent society serve as further inducement for you to come amongst us for a little while, in lieu of all the diversions you would leave behind.

  With all my heart, I hope to hear from you, if not see you in person, very soon.

  Your pitiful cousin,

  Emma Louise Woodhouse

  As Rebecca read over her young cousin’s letter, she could not help but notice several places where the ink was blurred, and she knew that it could have only been Emma’s tears that had blotted the ink in such a way. After reading the letter a second time through, Rebecca set it on her bedside table, quietly blew out the candle, and cried herself to sleep as she had not done in more than seven years.

  7

  It was warm for early March, and though Caroline had feared it might rain, the weather outside was absolutely perfect for her garden party. A dozen or so other guests were assembled in the neatly landscaped and elegantly ornamented back garden of the Bingley house in Grosvenor square, and everything was going just as Caroline had planned.

  Though she was rather wounded that Lady Rebecca, Lady Catherine and the Countess of Matlock were not in attendance, the rest of the women in her new family had not only accepted her invitation, but lavished her with praise on the arrangements she had worked so hard to perfect.

  Caroline was well aware of her natural talent for organizing sophisticated events such as this, and only wished that she might still be a single woman, making her triumph actually matter, but she supposed that would come in time. Word would begin to spread of her social prowess, and once she was a respectable widow she would be highly sought after, not only as a well-connected woman with friends and relations of the first circles, but as a gracious hostess who knew a thing or two about entertaining.

  In truth, she had drawn some inspiration from the picnic that Georgiana Darcy had orchestrated at Pemberley the previous summer, embellishing somewhat on the casual seating arrangements by having indoor chairs and sofas brought out into the garden and arranged on the picnic blankets that had been neatly placed on her well-manicured lawn. The earliest blooms
of her garden lent themselves to an ambience of sophisticated whimsy, the air was fragrant, the refreshment table appetizing and abundant, and everything comfortable and conducive to the delight of an afternoon engaged in feminine conversation.

  Lydia Bennet was perhaps her greatest triumph of the day. Though Lydia had come to her less than a fortnight ago, the girl was showing a tremendous eagerness to follow Caroline’s example in putting her best foot forward. She wore one of the newly ordered dresses they had selected together, a lovely mint and blush floral print muslin with French lace at the hem, silver embroidery about the bodice, and some sheer draping about the sleeves that made her look rather nymph-like, when coupled with the way her thick brown hair had been pinned up so that a few loose curls escaped the emerald pins in delicate wisps. The fichu had been a bit of an argument between them that morning, but as Caroline had reminded Lydia that there were to be no gentlemen present, her young ward had eventually conceded that there was little to be gained from an exposed neckline, and another opportunity for lace could not be forgone.

  The effect of Caroline’s influence went beyond her mere appearance. While Caroline and Lydia had devoted their mornings to making calls on her wide circle of acquaintance, their afternoons had been full of rigorous lectures on everything from singing and dancing to poetry and French, and even the proper style of walking and vocal inflection. There was nothing about Lydia that did not want improvement, in Caroline’s opinion. She had attacked everything from Lydia’s posture to her vocabulary and mode of address, and though there was still a great deal to be done, Lydia had already made more progress than Caroline had dared to hope.

  What a fine instructor I am, Caroline mused to herself as she stood apart from her guests, watching Lydia mingle with them. She felt an almost motherly degree of pride in seeing her work made manifest. Of course, she knew it would be different if there were men about, for Lydia’s interest in them was insatiable, but amidst a party of females, with no temptation to put herself forward, Lydia could really be quite pleasing.

  Her ability to make conversation with those to whom she had only just been introduced was something to be marveled at. Louisa’s praise had been warm and sincere, when she had approached Caroline. “My goodness, sister,” said she, “what a drastic change you have affected on your young ward. When you brought her to us last week, I was certain it could not be accomplished. But she has behaved so very civilly. Even the Miss Granthams seem to find her agreeable, and they scarcely like anybody.”

  Caroline gave her sister an affectionate squeeze on the elbow. “It is remarkable, is it not? I will own I did not expect her to be so malleable, when first she came to me, and I will not lie to you, sister, there are times when she remains quite intractable, but I do hope this is a sign of good things to come.”

  “Such as the undying gratitude of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?” Louisa gave her a knowing look.

  “That would be a good start,” Caroline said.

  Louisa nodded. “I daresay it must be very beneficial for you that people should rather wonder at your amiable young companion, instead of talking about that shocking spectacle you made of yourself last autumn at the Banfields’. Do not think the ton has forgotten just yet.”

  “I am aware of that,” Caroline said evenly, looking away from her sister. “But, in time, they shall forget. Lydia’s transformation and emergence in elegant society will be just the thing to distract them.” After all, misdirection seems to be working very well indeed for Lady Catherine and Georgiana Darcy.

  They were approached by Elizabeth and Lady Hartley, and Louisa quickly moved away to attach herself to the viscountess, remarking on the fine quality of Caroline’s rose bushes, while Elizabeth offered Caroline a friendly smile.

  “Caro, I must congratulate you on throwing such a delightful feminine gathering here. I particularly enjoyed meeting your new companion, but, pray tell me, whatever have you done with my sister Lydia?”

  Caroline grinned at her new friend. It was strange to think, but they really were friends indeed. “I take it you approve of the changes?”

  Elizabeth responded with a teasing smirk. “To approve I should first need to believe, and I think that I shall require a full half-day at the very least. But in all seriousness, I cannot thank you enough. I begin to feel all of my own deficiency, I must say, for either Lydia’s transformation was far more easily accomplished than I had thought, and I have been remiss in shirking the responsibility, or else I was simply not up to the task myself, and must bow to your superior capabilities. Either way, I must thank you for your efforts on Lydia’s behalf. How ever did you accomplish it?”

  Caroline’s smile grew wider – long had she desired Elizabeth to acknowledge her own superiority, although now that it was actually happening, Caroline had not the same satisfaction – though the compliment pleased her tremendously, she did not feel the same malicious glee she might once have done. Instead, she felt all the sincerity of Elizabeth’s overtures, and a sense of wonder that Elizabeth would speak so openly of a failing to a former rival. She decided to respond in kind, making an admission she would never have done in the earliest days of their acquaintance.

  “I suppose I have one advantage over you, Lizzy, in that I attended one of the finest schools in London when I was a girl, and though it was not always a pleasant experience for the daughter of a tradesman, I learned a great many lessons that those of higher birth did not have to.”

  “That sounds awful,” Elizabeth said.

  “It seemed that way at the time. I was rather like Lydia when first I came to Mrs. Hastings’s school. Like Lydia, I had been spoilt by a mother with high ambitions for me, and was eager to set myself apart from the other ladies. But I would not trade my education in the ways of the world for anything. Take the Miss Granthams over there. They might behave just as Lydia has been wont to do, and it would not change the fact that they are descended from nobility, with dowries greater than even Georgiana’s. Lydia and I have one thing in common, which is that we must be far more careful than those of more fortunate origins, and I think she is becoming aware of the fact.”

  It still smarted just a little bit, acknowledging her ties to trade, and speaking so lightly of what had been a difficult time in her own youth; Caroline waited for Elizabeth’s reaction with a trace of challenge on her countenance.

  Elizabeth smiled ruefully. “What a dim view you have of the world.”

  “Not at all,” Caroline replied. “Women of intelligence, such as you and I, shall do very well indeed, and I believe even Lydia may get there in time. Leave her to me.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Happily.”

  After conversing a while longer with Elizabeth, Caroline exerted herself to speak to all of her worthy guests, who had broken into smaller groups as they chatted gaily and sampled the fine selection of delicacies Caroline’s new French cook had prepared.

  Seeing Mary Bennet looking rather uncomfortable and alone at the buffet table, Caroline approached the quietest Bennet sister, curious to discover if she might draw her out, or if she was truly and completely Lady Rebecca’s creature. “How very lovely you look today, Miss Bennet,” Caroline began, admiring Miss Bennet’s lovely sprigged muslin day dress and simply adorned hairstyle. “I understand Lady Rebecca takes a great deal of pride in having overseen your recent transformation, now that you are out in society, much as I have endeavored to do with your youngest sister.”

  Miss Bennet blushed. “I suppose I have changed, but surely Lydia’s transformation must be the greater one. It is very kind of you to look after her, as there is so much to occupy my family at present, I would not wish her to feel overlooked, as I have often done. That is, I would not wish to sound ungrateful, but….”

  “But there have been a great many changes in your family,” Caroline finished smoothly, attempting to put the younger girl at ease. “You needn’t apologize for speaking openly about it. So many marriages in the family, the death of your elder sister, the discovery of Mi
ss Sutton, and Miss Darcy’s rather turbulent debut in society, as well as your own come-out…. I should wager your mother and older sister have rather a lot to occupy them, particularly now that Elizabeth and Mrs. Fitzwilliam mean to expand their own families. I myself am rather new to this extended family of ours, and I daresay it is all too easy to get lost in the excitement. Truly, you have done very well for yourself, and must deserve as great a share of the credit as your mentor, Lady Rebecca, I am sure. As to Lydia, perhaps I can claim some credit, but I must own that it was your sister Elizabeth who entrusted me with Lydia, who has done herself rather proud these last two weeks. I understand you are musical, and I have been hoping that Lydia may yet possess the same talents.”

  Miss Bennet quirked up an eyebrow in the way Caroline had often seen Elizabeth do, but said nothing. “I see what you mean,” Caroline said, giving her a playful look. “Well, you never know. I for one, always hope for the best. And speaking of music, I see my dear friend Mary Crawford is just arriving. She is one of the most musical people I know, and vastly talented. I hope I may have the privilege of introducing you. I understand you have been learning the harp, and it is a subject you shall find Miss Crawford most passionate about. What a fine thing, two Marys to play the harp! We shall have to start up a little musical club while we are all in London; I daresay that will inspire your sister!”

  No sooner had Caroline introduced Mary Bennet to Mary Crawford, and encouraged the two to bond over their love of musical performance, then Julia Yates and Fanny Crawford approached Caroline with matching looks of displeasure.

  “I am afraid we must bid you good day,” Mrs. Yates sniffed, not deigning to disguise her hostility toward Miss Crawford. Mrs. Crawford was somewhat kinder, giving her sister-in-law some acknowledgement before departing with her cousin. Mrs. Fitzwilliam, who had trailed behind them, approached now to link her arm through Miss Bennet’s and whispered something in her ear as they moved away. “I wonder what that was about,” Caroline said with a nervous giggle, watching Mrs. Crawford and Mrs. Yates make a hasty departure.