Unexpected Friends & Relations

by Jayne Bamber

  Rebecca groaned internally. “Oh – how very thoughtful of you.”

  Mr. Parker smiled and leaned in close, so close she nearly panicked. “Shall I share a secret with you, Lady Rebecca?”

  “So long as it does not pertain to Sanditon, I am sure I should like to hear it.” Mr. Parker looked wounded, and though she supposed that may be for the best, she regretted her harshness. “Forgive me – I spoke thoughtlessly. I would be happy to hear any secret you should like to disclose.”

  “Well, as it happens, it has only a small bit to do with Sanditon, in a roundabout sort of way, but I shall get to that.” He leaned in closer still, to whisper in her ear, “I have it on good authority that Frank has told Emma he shall be calling upon her tomorrow.”

  “But he is always calling upon her tomorrow – that is... oh, I see. Well, that is very good news!” Rebecca let out a little sigh of relief.

  “I think he would have spoken tonight, if John had been present.”

  “But John is not really her guardian – she is of age....”

  “I knew you would say that! I think I know you rather well, Lady Rebecca. I knew your first thought would be all female independence; I really do admire that about you.”

  “Admire it!” Rebecca recoiled a little – it was an odd enough thing to hear any man expressing a regard for the sort of female independence that rather defined Rebecca, and might have pleased her in other circumstances, but she really had no wish to hear that Sidney Parker admired her.

  “In most cases, yes,” he laughed. “We are more alike, I am sure, than you should wish to admit. We both desire a greater degree of control over our own lives than the world has given us by birthright – you being a woman, and yet so wholly determined to be governed by none but yourself, and I, as a second son, given nothing, and made to strive for what I have. But I digress – you may dislike that Frank means to ask your cousin John’s permission to marry Miss Woodhouse, but it pleases the lady herself, you see. That is the point.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes, and gave Mr. Parker a teasing smile. “I do take your meaning, sir – better that Mr. Churchill please Emma, you mean to say, than to acknowledge her independence, when she does not wish it. I suppose I am very different in that regard – if anyone were to approach my father, seeking my hand in marriage, I should be more likely to throttle them than to accept.”

  Mr. Parker laughed, leaning close once more. “Yes, but not everybody is the same. I think your cousin likes the old-fashioned romance of it, even if it is not technically necessary. You are neither old-fashioned, nor romantic.”

  “The wisest words I have ever heard you say, sir! Perhaps you do know me. I am not romantic at all – I am convinced I shall never marry.”

  He laughed again, and made a droll face. “Now you see, Lady Rebecca, you must suffer the indignity of being unable to surprise me. It is exactly what I would expect of you.”

  Rebecca chuckled, leaning in to nudge his shoulder with hers, greatly relieved that he was not in love with her after all – she was sure he was not. Indeed, she was enjoying his company so much, now that she was certain he bore her no particular regard, that she began to feel what she had at Donwell, a general sense of approval of Mr. Parker. She even began to wish she had not separated him from Georgiana. A man like him, who so willingly accepted her just the way she was, would be a welcome addition to their family. “But wait,” said she. “You said the secret pertained to Sanditon, sir – how so?”

  “Ah, but I had almost forgotten – now, I daresay I cannot surprise you either – I mean to convince them to marry in Sanditon, you see.”

  “Ha! Best of luck with that – Highbury will be very angry with you, at depriving them of such an auspicious occasion!”

  “Let them despise me for it – I am sure I have already lost the good opinion of – but no matter, for I have a secret weapon – Mrs. Churchill!”

  “I have heard she is rather a weapon! And she resides in Sanditon?”

  “Her husband’s estate, Enscombe, is in Yorkshire, but they quit the place last autumn – you may recall, when we were all at the Darcy’s nuptial ball, that Frank was planning on bringing his aunt to Weymouth – what a foul place! I immediately intervened, and set them up with a very good rate for a house in Sanditon, and his aunt has been very happy there ever since. She is our greatest testimonial, I am sure, for the healthfulness of the place. I think she will never wish to go back to Enscombe – she and her husband have recently let the house to tenants, and mean to stay in Sanditon for some time. She must prevail upon Frank, who is practically a son to her, to marry from Sanditon.”

  “But he is a son to Mr. Weston!”

  “Well, I am sure he will be invited.”

  “Yes, but it is not the same. Oh, Mr. Parker, I really must ask you to give up this plan. They must marry here, in Highbury. This is where their story began, and so must it end here.”

  “I would hardly say it is ending, just because they are to be married!”

  Rebecca laughed. “Forgive me – I read too many novels. Marriage always seems like the end of a woman’s life to me.”

  “I happen to think otherwise, Miss Wollstonecraft.”

  “Ah, now you think me a radical!”

  He gave her a look of mirth. “Well, I really must make amends to you – I can amend my plan, at least. Perhaps if I do not press them to wed in Sanditon, they might take their honeymoon there.”

  “Oh yes, let Emma take her honeymoon in the presence of his overbearing aunt – how infinitely romantic!”

  “She may yet think so – she has always seemed very interested in the place – far more than you have. Miss Woodhouse has never been to the seaside, you know, and I think she will like it.”

  “Well, if it means they might marry in Highbury, I suppose I must approve, for what it is worth.”

  “Then let us shake hands upon it, Lady Rebecca,” said he, “for I shall hope for your support – and if Mrs. Churchill means to make a fuss about it, I may need you to come to Sanditon yourself, for if there is anyone in the world who can tell her what’s what, I am sure it must be you!”

  Rebecca laughed. “Nonsensical man,” she chided, shaking hands warmly with him. “You are only trying to lure me to Sanditon!”

  He withdrew his hand from hers to place it on his heart. “I shall never give up! It is my life’s work, and I am very proud of it. You and all your family must come for Sanditon’s premier summer, and I shall not be satisfied until I have your agreement.”

  Rebecca laughed again, wondering if this was his way of suggesting that he really wished Georgiana to be brought there, and averted her face for lack of any other argument against the idea. She looked around; the dancers had all moved apart, and she could see Mr. Knightley standing at the far side of the room. When did he arrive?

  Mrs. Weston was speaking to him with a pleasant smile on her countenance, but his looks were rather dark. He seemed to be taking in the entire spectacle of the ball, and found none of it to his liking. Little surprise there! And yet, Rebecca wondered just what it was that seemed to be bothering him. Certainly it could not be Frank and Emma, who were making far from hiding their attachment. If he had no wish to witness their affection, he may as well not have come at all – certainly nobody expected him to come, as he made no secret of caring little for dancing, and he had missed the whole first half of the ball, but here he was.

  A cruel thought occurred to Rebecca – that he must be looking around for Miss Fairfax, that he had come for her, and was disappointed to find her absent. And now he was looking at herself, his expression grim indeed. Did he blame her for Jane not coming to the ball?

  Rebecca turned back to Mr. Parker. “I shall give you some reprieve – some little time to strengthen your argument, sir. You have yet to convince me, but I am sure this is not the last time we shall speak on the matter.”

  “Quite right,” Mr. Parker said with a smile. He stood and bowed, and moved away to speak with the Col
es, while Rebecca crossed the room and approached Mr. Knightley, whom Mrs. Weston had abandoned to his own surliness.

  “I was not expecting to see you, sir.”

  “I was not expecting to be here, but I thought I had better come, and see how you all get on.”

  “When did you return?”

  “Late this afternoon. I concluded John’s business in London several days ago – in all honesty, I spent the last few days in town rather at odds with myself over whether I ought to return to Highbury just yet.”

  “Why should you not?”

  Mr. Knightley had no chance to answer. The dance had ended, and Frank Churchill and Emma were approaching them. Emma was in high spirits, looking as vibrant as Rebecca had ever seen her. She and Frank were hand-in-hand, until Emma released him to embrace Mr. Knightley. “I am so glad you are back. But shame on you, keeping us all in suspense! I think Rebecca was going very cross over your absence; indeed, as was I!”

  “Is that so? I do not believe you – you are too generous, because you seem so very content yourself,” Mr. Knightley replied.

  “I daresay I have every reason to be,” Emma said with a blush and a glance for Mr. Churchill. Mr. Knightley looked over at him, shaking hands with the younger man. “Am I to be wishing you joy?”

  Mr. Churchill chuckled and shook his head. “Perhaps if you call at Randalls tomorrow afternoon – but tonight I am simply in very good cheer.”

  “But where is John, and Miss Fairfax? I had hoped to see both of them here, and should wish them to be in such good cheer as well.”

  “Oh, never mind that,” Emma laughed, “now that you are come, you must dance! I know you do not like it so very much, but let this be one of the rare occasions when you dance.”

  “I suppose I shall, if you will have me,” Mr. Knightley replied.

  “Oh dear – I promised to dance again with Mr. Churchill – it will be our third dance of the night, you know, and we are not the least bit ashamed of it. Only think what Mrs. Elton will say!”

  Emma and Frank Churchill laughed heartily at their own impudence, and moved away to join the set that was just forming. Rebecca began to feel strangely agitated at being left alone with Mr. Knightley. “Did you happen to see the Darcys while you were in London?” She glanced nervously at him, thinking it a very dull question, but really wishing they might begin to converse more comfortably.

  “As it happens, I did,” he replied. “They were on the point of going into Kent – they might have even travelled there already, for I saw them three days ago. It was Mrs. Darcy who urged me to come back to Highbury for the ball.”

  “Did she?” Rebecca glanced away, looking over the crowd of dancers. How happy they all seemed – yet she had never felt less cheerful at a ball.

  “I bore you,” Mr. Knightley said.

  “No indeed, I was merely distracted, observing the dancers.”

  “Would you like to join them? I had not asked, as I thought you must be awaiting some other partner.”

  “No indeed! Who else should I like to dance with? And you ought to have asked me – we have danced at every other ball we have both attended – if you had not asked me now, I would have thought you still very cross with me.”

  Mr. Knightley said nothing as he led her to the dance, and they joined in the lively reel. She had gone too far in teasing him – perhaps he really was still cross with her, and she had pressured him into feeling obliged to dance with her. His concern for Miss Fairfax must indicate that he still bore Rebecca some ill will for her impertinent remarks to Miss Fairfax at Box Hill, despite Rebecca’s best efforts to hint to Mr. Knightley that she had done her duty in apologizing.

  “I had urged Miss Fairfax to come along tonight,” Rebecca observed, when the movements of the dance afforded her some opportunity to speak to him.

  “That was very good of you – I had hoped to see you back on friendlier terms with her.”

  “And are we to be on friendlier terms, sir?”

  Mr. Knightley looked away and said nothing. After a few minutes of avoiding her eye, he looked back at her, his expression pained. “You must know....”

  Rebecca abruptly turned away. She missed a few steps of the dance, standing in some confusion until the movements of those around her obliged her to resume her own dancing, to make way for them. For a few minutes she could think of nothing but focusing on her footing, as if she had suddenly forgotten how to reel. Whatever it was he thought she must know, she suddenly felt she had no wish to hear it. She began to realize just why his concern for Miss Fairfax bothered her. She would no more wish to hear of his regard for Jane Fairfax, any more than she could hear Mrs. Weston suggesting that she and Sidney Parker might belong together. No indeed, she could only hope Mrs. Weston was wrong on both counts, for if she and Mr. Knightley were to be attached to anybody, it must be to one another!

  This realization was too much for her, at such a time – it was beyond her capacity to think it through, in the middle of such a dance, but neither could she finish the reel with any degree of composure. She could not meet Mr. Knightley’s eye, though she often felt his upon her, and she was stung by the loss of his friendship she must experience, when he finally paid his addresses to Miss Fairfax. She could only hope that by that time, she would be gone from Highbury herself.

  Poor Mr. Knightley! Surely this must account for why he had remained so long in London – he suspected her of thinking ill of Miss Fairfax, and had stayed away, hesitating to pay his lady any attentions so long as Rebecca was at Hartfield to dislike it. It ought to have been the reverse – she must be the one to go away, and she now wished that she had left the place weeks ago.

  She muddled through the rest of the dance as best she could, and Mr. Knightley seemed as though he wished to speak with her at the end of it, but she could not bear it. She required some time to herself, to think in private, after returning to Hartfield – she may yet need the whole night to come to terms with her own shocking discovery, and reconcile herself to the disappointment of what was not to be.

  Sidney Parker was approaching, to claim the last dance of the night, as she had promised, and Rebecca had never been so pleased to be importuned by the man. Mr. Knightley now looked very cross, but Rebecca could not regret it – she was not yet ready to allow him to confide in her. She let Mr. Parker lead her to the dance, and as they began their movements, she saw Mr. Knightley take his leave, carrying her shattered heart with him.

  ***

  Emma went directly to bed when they returned to Hartfield, eager to sleep through the night and awaken in the morning, which promised a visit from Frank Churchill. Rebecca was too agitated – she had wished for nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts, but now the prospect of such contemplation frightened her. She sought distraction in the library, and spent nearly an hour reading before she determined that it would not do. She must allow herself to think upon it – Good God, I am in love with Mr. Knightley! What a wretched thing!

  She was returning to her room, taking pains to keep quiet, that she might not wake any of the family, and was just turning the handle to her bedroom door, when she saw a door open at the end of the corridor. She pushed open her door in a hurry, not wishing to speak with anyone, and was relieved to see that it was only John leaving the nursery – he turned the opposite way, toward his own bed chamber. As Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief at being spared any unwanted interaction, another figure emerged from the nursery and began walking that way. Rebecca moved into her room, but hesitated as she closed the door; she kept it open a few inches and peered out of it. There was but one sconce lit at the far end of the hall – the light was just enough that Rebecca could make out Jane Fairfax leaving the nursery just a moment after John – she was smiling to herself, and, resting both hands upon her heart, she exhaled happily.

  After Miss Fairfax had passed without noticing her in the doorway, Rebecca quietly shut her door and leaned back against it. She was not entirely sure what she had just witnesse
d or what to make of it, but she was suspicious. Thinking of Mr. Knightley, of what his disappointment might be, and in turn, her own relief, Rebecca began to cry.

  29

  Kent, May

  Cranbrook was in mourning; Rosings was in uproar. By the morning after the shooting party, the chaos had settled somewhat, and Caroline awoke, for the first time in as long as she could remember, with a smile on her face. There was much to keep her smiling, as she began her toilette that day – the surprising generosity of Sir Gerald, the look on Cynthia’s face when General Tilney and his eldest son suddenly intruded, and the ensuing commotion that led to a change in fiancé for her.

  Lydia burst through the door that connected their chambers before Caroline had finished dressing for breakfast, and Caroline was in such a magnanimous mood that she did not scold Lydia, but dismissed her maid and asked Lydia to assist her with the final touches of her toilette. Lydia was likewise in better cheer than she had been recently, and did not bristle at this request.

  “I hope you slept well, my dear,” Caroline said, smiling at Lydia’s reflection in her mirror.

  “I should say so,” Lydia grinned back at her. “La! What a to-do it was at Cranbrook! I daresay you shall make a very merry widow indeed.”

  “So long as you do not say so in front of the wrong people,” Caroline drawled.

  “Captain Wentworth?”

  Caroline gave Lydia a knowing glance. “He has been apprised of my sentiments, as you are well aware.”

  Lydia brushed out Caroline’s hair, and then set the brush aside to give her shoulder a squeeze. “I had suspected – I am happy for you, you know. And for me – Henry and I can be wed!”

  “He will need to speak to your uncle, and I daresay to Mr. Darcy as well.”

  “Oh but I have already thought of that. Kate had a letter from Lizzy yesterday; our Aunt Gardiner had her baby, and they are wanting to be out of London now. Lizzy and Mr. Darcy are coming to Rosings – Mamma is mad to see the place – they shall come next week, and Henry shall be able to speak with them.”