by Jayne Bamber
“I expect you must be rather conflicted yourself, for your friend’s loss to be your sister’s gain.”
“Yes, I can see how you would expect such a thing – that is, of course it must be so.” Harriet hesitated, and glanced up at Mr. Rushworth. She really did wish to unburden herself, for her feelings were beyond conflicted. “Mr. Rushworth, might I tell you something in confidence?”
Mr. Rushworth smiled warmly at her. “I should like nothing more, Miss Harriet. Nobody ever tells me anything in confidence. I am the last to hear of everything.”
“Well, to fully own the truth, I am finding it hard to feel any felicity for my sister Cynthia. It is very wrong of me, is it not?”
“Oh dear. I daresay you must be the judge of that, Miss Harriet. As she is only just returned to the county, and you have been acquainted with Miss Lydia a little longer – certainly she has the right to your compassion. And yet, the bonds of family dictate that you must share in your sister’s joy. Yes, a difficult situation indeed!”
“It is – it is hard to know what to do,” Harriet said. “Particularly as I do not think my new sister Cynthia cares for me at all.”
“What? But how can that be? You are the most amiable person I have ever met, I am sure. How can she not rejoice in acquiring you as a sister?”
“I hardly know! I cannot help but wonder if I have given her some offense.”
“Have you done?”
Harriet considered – indeed, she had been wondering this for the last week, but could think of nothing that might have caused Cynthia to dislike her, beyond her friendship with Lydia. “I suppose she must be aware that Lydia was attached to Mr. Audley – indeed, I am sure everybody was made fully aware of it, if they were not already, given her unfortunate reaction to the announcement at dinner that night. Perhaps Cynthia thinks it disloyal of me. I have tried to make her like me, and I even offered to help her with the wedding planning. I wanted very much to be her bridesmaid, you see, but she would not have me, and flatly refused my every overture.”
“Did she? How so?”
“Well, she declared that she would not have a bridesmaid at all, and I overheard her – oh dear, I should not be telling you this....”
“Please do, Miss Harriet,” Mr. Rushworth cried. He took her hand in his once more. “I shall endeavor to be of service to you, if I can, or at least some comfort.”
“You are the greatest comfort, Mr. Rushworth, for letting me rattle away at you like this. Oh, but I suppose I may as well tell you – only you cannot repeat it to anyone!”
“You have my word.”
“Thank you, sir. The thing is, I overheard Cynthia speaking with my parents. My mother wished me to be a bridesmaid, and she was offended when Cynthia refused. It is not in my nature to argue, but Mother… well…. I heard Cynthia say that she would not have me as a bridesmaid, as I was on the verge of coming into the room. I tarried in the hallway, and heard Cynthia tell my mother and father that she did not wish me to have any part of the wedding, in such language I dare not repeat. In short, Mr. Rushworth, she said unkind things about me, about my... my past.”
“I see,” Mr. Rushworth replied with a heavy sigh. She had said too much – this reminder of her origins would make him regret her company.
“Everyone has been so kind to me,” she said. “Everyone, until now, until Cynthia came back. I know my situation is an unusual one, but the rest of my brothers and sisters have been so accepting. Why should Cynthia be any different?”
“I cannot imagine what you could have done to offend her,” Mr. Rushworth replied. “I have never seen you give offense to anyone – I do not think it possible you could. However – you do know that I have been married before, surely….”
Harriet nodded. “I could not do you the insult of pretending ignorance, Mr. Rushworth. Yes, I have heard the talk.”
“Well, it is true. I was married to an awful woman, and I hope I am a little wiser from the experience. I have learned that some women shall always want more than their share in this world, and I believe Cynthia is such a one. Your story is rather a fairy tale, is it not? I can well imagine she must be eager to tear you down, and to spite you for your success. She feels entitled to more than fortune has bestowed upon her, and now that fortune has smiled on you, she shall ever resent you for it.”
“But what am I to do? How shall I ever make her like me?”
“I daresay you shan’t. Some people are simply beyond being pleased. A lesson hard learned on my part, Miss Harriet.”
“But she has every reason to be pleased – she is to be married!”
Mr. Rushworth shook his head sadly. “More’s the pity for Mr. Audley, I think. She may be satisfied in her conquest, for the present, but I daresay she shall not be contented forever.”
“Oh dear,” Harriet said. “Is there nothing to be done – no way I might gain her esteem?”
“Should you desire the esteem of such a person?”
“Oh, Mr. Rushworth, I had not thought of that.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Miss Harriet, if it is not too forward, I must say that I rather like speaking with you like this.”
Harriet blushed and looked away. She was enjoying the honesty of their conversation very much, and barely had time to agree before she saw Mary and Mr. Tilney returning up the garden path with a lady whom she had never seen before. “You have been ever so helpful; I should very much like to be able to speak so candidly with you again sometime.” Here she looked up at him, gazing earnestly into his eyes, hoping he could sense all the sincerity she wished to convey.
“Think nothing of it, Miss Harriet. Your conversation has been everything charming, as usual. It is only a pity our tete-a-tete must come to an end, for I am sure we might have done very well together a while longer. Another time, I should hope you think to confide in me, if it is necessary. If Cynthia Sutton gives you any further trouble, I hope you shall feel at liberty to let me know.”
By now Mary, Mr. Tilney, and their companion were nearly walking up the steps to the gazebo, when the young lady suddenly blanched and cried out, “Cynthia Sutton!”
Mary and Mr. Tilney reacted instantly, both regarding the newcomer with no little alarm, for she was truly dismayed at the mention of Miss Sutton – a sensation Harriet could well understand. Mr. Tilney was the first to recover, and led the young lady up the steps of the gazebo, with Mary following close behind. “Miss Harriet, Mr. Rushworth, may I present my sister, Miss Eleanor Tilney.”
The introductions were made all around and Miss Tilney, rather than giving any explanation for her unexpected presence amongst them, instantly inquired after Cynthia Sutton.
“She is my half-sister,” Harriet replied cautiously. “Are you a friend of hers, Miss Tilney?”
“No – that is, I have never met her in my life. Pray, is this the same Miss Cynthia Sutton who might have lately been in the vicinity of Northumbria?”
“Indeed, I understand she was traveling there these past two months – she returned to us about a fortnight ago.”
“Good God, it must be the same Cynthia Sutton!”
“Same as what?” Mr. Tilney looked with alarm at his sister. “What is this about, Ellie?”
Looking greatly troubled, Miss Tilney whispered to her brother, “Fred.”
“Fred Wentworth? Aye, he is here, too,” Mr. Rushworth said with some confusion.
Miss Tilney shook her head “No, no – Fred is our brother, our older brother. I think he may be acquainted with Miss Sutton, that is all.”
“That is hardly cause for any alarm,” Mr. Rushworth observed.
Miss Tilney looked extremely uncomfortable, but said nothing more. Unsure of how to proceed, but suspecting that she might have found another ally in her dislike of Cynthia, Harriet said, “My half-sister Cynthia is to be married in a fortnight. Perhaps you have heard of it?”
“Oh! Oh, that must be wonderful, indeed, for your family,” Miss Tilney replied, her voice trembling.
Harriet and Mr. Rushworth exchanged such a look between them that Mary could not help but giggle a little bit, and Miss Tilney let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, what a muddle,” she said.
“How so? Do tell us,” Harriet said.
“If you have never met her,” Mr. Tilney said, “I daresay you should not be recognized here, Ellie.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Tilney, Miss Tilney,” Mr. Rushworth interposed. “What exactly is going on?”
Mr. Tilney laughed; even Mary gave a wry smile.
“Yes, I believe we owe you some explanation. My sister is only just arrived at the parsonage, but I fear she cannot remain with me long. It is rather a long story, but the summation of it is that she has fled our father’s matrimonial machinations, and requires a place to hide out for a little while, until she reaches her majority, and cannot be forced into anything.”
“Oh my,” Harriet cried. “You poor dear! But certainly we shall help you! Your brother told me all about your young man – how generous he has been to him – what a pity it was not enough. You were quite right to come to him, I am sure he shall sort it all out.”
“That is just what I had hoped,” Miss Tilney said shyly. “There is only one problem – my father must even now be looking for me – he would not let me go missing....”
“Oh dear! And so you really must hide!”
“Yes, I believe Eleanor is in need of something of a disguise. We had thought to pass her off as a friend of Mary’s, come to visit Rosings. A new friend, one she had met in Surrey, perhaps,” Mr. Tilney said.
“Well, that is very clever,” Harriet laughed. “But then I must help, too! I was in Highbury all my life!”
“Exactly,” Mary replied. “I had hoped you would lend some credence to my little tale. Only Kate and Robert will know the truth, and I hope you will agree to keep our secret.”
“Of course we shall! Is that not so, Mr. Rushworth?”
Mr. Rushworth gave an amiable chuckle. “Jolly good! But I love a good bit of intrigue! We must invent a history for you, Miss Tilney. What do you say, Miss Harriet? You must be the expert on Surrey, I am sure.”
“Hmmm,” Harriet mused. “I daresay I could not pass her off as anyone from Mrs. Goddard’s school – my father might ask my aunt about that.”
“Yes, that is what I thought, too,” Mary replied. “Keep in mind, Cousin Rebecca is still in Highbury; it would need to be somebody below her notice. Perhaps one of the Coles?”
“Just what I would have said.” Harriet cried, giving a little clap of her hands.
“The Coles,” Miss Tilney said thoughtfully. “Pray, what is their estate?”
“It is rather a new house – I do not know that it has a name at all,” Harriet said. “They only just took the house a few months past, and before that they lived in the village, in Highbury. They are in trade, you see. Oh – I hope that does not offend you!”
“It is perfectly acceptable to me,” Miss Tilney replied. “I think they should have far more right to object to my borrowing their name! Very well, I am Eleanor Cole – no, better not use Eleanor. Helena Cole, but you can call me Ellie for short. Miss Helena Cole, lately arrived from Highbury.”
“My goodness, what fun,” Harriet said. “Let us say that we were rather well-acquainted, when I resided in Highbury – I came to London on the first of March to be with my parents, but I grew up there in Mrs. Goddard’s school all my life. When Mary went to Highbury at the end of last March, she befriended Miss Cole as well, and when you learned she was coming to Rosings, my new home, you have been begging for an invitation, that you might be reunited with me.”
“Yes, that is just what Helena Cole should wish,” Miss Tilney replied. “A fine reunion of friends indeed!”
Mr. Tilney made a droll face. “You really do take to this sort of thing with aplomb,” he told his sister. “Are you sure you want to be marrying a parson?”
Miss Tilney swatted playfully at her brother. “You are a parson,” said she, “and you are just as guilty as the rest of us – you must have your share in the complicity, sir. At any rate, you know you like it.”
Mr. Tilney laughed. “Indeed I do. I daresay we shall have no need of reading novels at such a time, as we are rather living one! Oh, but how did you get on with The Romance of the Forest? Miss Bennet informed me, when I carried her away from you, that she was very cross, and shall be angrier still if you have read it without her.”
Mary feigned indignation. “I said no such thing, Mr. Tilney!”
“You did not say it outright,” Mr. Tilney argued, “but it was in all your looks – I felt it instinctively, that you should be disappointed, indeed, to have missed your share of the reading on my account.”
“Have you been reading novels?” Miss Tilney’s face lit up with delight. “Oh yes, we must have been destined to be friends! I could discuss novels all day! It has been very hard, you know, growing up with only brothers – though I have made another reader out of my brother, as I am sure you must have discovered.”
“It is a clever man indeed,” Mr. Tilney quipped, “who can take an interest in anything that gives such pleasure to the ladies, is that not so, Mr. Rushworth?”
Mr. Rushworth grinned. “As you say, we are all rather living one now.”
“Indeed we are,” Miss Tilney said. “Perhaps more than anyone realizes.”
“What can you mean, Miss Cole?” Harriet gave the girl a curious look, really wishing to turn the subject back to her sister. “You mentioned some knowledge of my sister Cynthia – are you quite sure she will not be in a position to reveal your true identity while you are among us?”
“I cannot even say whether she knows there is any such person as Eleanor Tilney in existence – as I said, she is only an acquaintance of my brother Fred’s. He was visiting Northumbria lately, but I do not know whether he mentioned having a sister – I am not entirely certain the degree of their acquaintance – that is, I only became aware of it from a letter she sent to him.”
Mary eyed Miss Tilney suspiciously. “What, do you read your brothers’ letters?”
“Really, Ellie,” Mr. Tilney chided her. “You shall be at the parsonage but two days with me before you go to Rosings – am I to warn the postman?”
“I found it quite by mistake,” Miss Tilney said. “Indeed, I wish I had not!”
“But if there were letters between them, I must imagine they are more than mere acquaintances,” Mr. Rushworth said.
Miss Tilney looked quite pained, and wrung her hands, hesitating before speaking. “You say she is to be married soon?” They all agreed that it was so. “Oh dear. I should not be saying so, but only, it would not be right....” Frowning, she leaned in to her brother and whispered something in his ear. His expression darkened, and he coughed.
Mary was now looking very suspiciously at the Tilney siblings. “I believe we must know what you are whispering about, Miss Tilney. It has been a most curious circumstance already. Mr. Audley had been paying his addresses to my younger sister, only to become quite abruptly engaged to Miss Sutton within a week of her returning to the country. It has all been highly unusual, and I think you might have some knowledge – another piece to the puzzle, perhaps?”
Mr. Tilney glanced at his sister. “Ellie, we had better have out with it. We can trust them.”
“Oh dear,” Miss Tilney said. “I should hate to give you any pain, Miss Harriet, as she is your sister.”
“Half-sister,” Mr. Rushworth reminded her.
“Well – oh, Henry, you say it.”
“Miss Harriet, Miss Bennet, forgive me,” Mr. Tilney said with a serious look. “My brother, you must understand, is not always what a gentleman ought to be, and toward him my father is
more generous than he is to his more deserving children. In short, our brother Fred is perhaps more intimately acquainted with Cynthia Sutton, according to the letter she sent him. So much so that I can now no longer wonder at her rush to the altar….”
Mary let out a strangled sound and brought her hands up to her face. “Good God! Oh, poor Lydia! Losing Mr. Audley was bad enough, but that she should lose him to such a woman – something must be done!”
“I agree,” Mr. Tilney said. “In truth, I have little doubt it is the first occasion of such transgression occurring, on my brother’s part, and I should like to see him take some responsibility for his actions. And, honestly, I cannot think why he should not really wish to pursue Miss Sutton – certainly her fortune could not be objectionable.”
Mr. Rushworth grimaced, muttering to Harriet, “The least objectionable thing about her, I am sure.”
Harriet glanced between her four companions. “But cannot something be done? If we were to speak to my father….”
“No,” Miss Tilney cried. “That is – he should only ask where you heard such a thing, and if I am to be Miss Cole of Highbury, it would give me away.”
Mr. Tilney furrowed his brow. “It is a difficult situation, and a delicate one. Eleanor’s identity must be protected, and yet I think it a right thing for us to try to unite my brother and Miss Sutton, particularly if there is to be a child.”
Now it was Harriet’s turn to give a cry of dismay. “Oh yes – the poor babe! I would not wish the child to suffer, to grow up apart from its parents.”
“That is just what I would expect of your tender heart, Miss Harriet,” Mr. Rushworth said.
“Perhaps it might all work out in the end, somehow, if we put our minds to it,” Mary suggested. “And if Fred Tilney and Cynthia Sutton liked one another well enough – that is, they cannot be entirely unwilling to wed, and then Mr. Audley might be free to wed Lydia.”
“But what can we do? We cannot say what we know,” Harriet replied, “without jeopardizing Miss Cole.”
Mr. Rushworth cleared his throat. “I have some experience in discovering secrets of a certain nature – that is, I once discovered something rather shocking, through a letter, just as you have done, Miss Tilney. I wonder, if Miss Sutton wrote to your brother, perhaps he has also written to her? If such a document could be discovered, there would be no reason to bring you into the matter.”