by Jane Rubino
“There will be leisure to attend to business when you are completely well,” urged his brother. “Remember that if some dire circumstance should leave my sister a widow, she would never be without a home, for the house in town is settled upon her.”
“Yes, very true,” replied Sir Frederick. “And yet a house in town can no more be kept up than a house in the country if one has not the means.”
Charles hastened to relieve his brother on this point with promises of liberality and assistance, though keeping to very general terms and avoiding the mention of any fixed sum. “What more pressing obligation can a gentleman have than to see that his brother’s widow and child are provided for? You must not suppose for an instant that I would ever neglect my obligation there—do not think for an instant that you must go to the trouble of setting anything down, for is not the word of a brother as firm as pen to paper? You have only to think what you would do for Catherine and my children to comprehend what I would do for Lady Vernon and my niece.”
This declaration rendered Sir Frederick easy—he likened his brother’s exertions to what his own would be, and so believed that the comfort of his wife and daughter were assured. Charles Vernon could not be unaffected by how readily Sir Frederick was lulled back into complacency and trust, which produced an unfamiliar warmth of feeling that persuaded him that he was almost capable of generosity.
chapter nine
Sir James was a very faithful correspondent, and as winter gave way to spring, he reminded Lady Vernon of her promise to bring the family to Ealing Park. All arrangements for Frederick’s particular comfort will be made ready as soon as you name the date, he wrote to his cousin.
For our tenants’ sake, it cannot be too soon. All of them who have had the goodness to fall ill over the winter have got better and Mother is left without anyone to put on the mend. If you do not come, I fear that she will give a pinch of bane to the groom for the pleasure of nursing him back to health.
Lady Martin’s letters were more direct.
Lady Vernon read the last portion of this letter to Frederica. “I am inclined to agree with my aunt, Frederica. You have been so little in society. At school, you would learn to be more at ease among people of your own age and better able to deal with those who are different or difficult.”
“It is too much trouble to meet people who are different and best to avoid those who are difficult,” replied Frederica.
“You cannot always be at Churchill.”
“What a great pity it is that I was not a boy. Then our property would be secure, and I should not have to go anywhere at all.”
“It is not a pity,” Lady Vernon replied with a smile. “We would not exchange you for a dozen sons. But the day will come when Churchill is no longer your home. You will be well married, and I will come to your grand estate and take possession of some little set of rooms and spoil your children and plague your husband.”
At last, Frederica was compelled to smile. “But what of Miss Wilson? I should be very sorry to think of her being cast out into the world.”
“And so would I, but it seems that Dr. Bentley has tended to other matters while he has been with us. He has made his proposals to Deane and my dear Deane has accepted him. If Miss Wilson will not think it a very great degradation to go from your governess to my lady’s maid, she may condescend to remain. Her steadiness and good character have been a great comfort to me these many months.”
In the first week in April, Dr. Bentley and the surgeon determined that Sir Frederick was strong enough to travel, and a party consisting of Sir Frederick, Lady Vernon, Miss Vernon, Dr. Bentley, and Miss Deane left Sussex for Derbyshire.
When the carriage drew up to the great house, Lady Martin herself came out to greet them, and looking over Sir Frederick with a sharp eye, she declared, “Why, you are worn to nothing! You must go right to your chamber and I will have a dish of beef tea sent up to you at once!”
When Sir Frederick had been dispatched, Lady Martin looked over Lady Vernon and her daughter. “Ah,” she said to the former, “it is a blessing that you have your mother’s looks. Her family were Osbournes and the Osbourne looks would stand up to any trial! Frederica, go to the greenhouse and have the gardener show you the geraniums that you helped him get into bloom—they have got as big as cabbages!”
“I would prefer to go up to my father, if you please, ma’am.”
“Well, go then. I will have Cook send up a portion of plum cake and you may toast a slice of it for your father. One slice will do him no harm.”
Frederica made a hasty curtsy and hurried off to her father’s chamber.
Lady Martin took her niece into the parlor and scrutinized her thoroughly. “And what is the true state of Frederick’s health? Dr. Bentley had written that he had no illness of an infectious nature—why does he not improve more rapidly?”
“I do not mind if he improves slowly, Aunt, so long as he gets back his strength in the end.”
“And what do you think of my scheme to place Frederica in school? There are some excellent schools in town that are just the place to meet well-connected girls with single brothers. She will not find a husband in a greenhouse. Ah, me, it is such a trial to see that everybody makes a good match. When I think of how it may have turned out if my husband had not introduced you to Frederick—you might have taken James off my hands.”
“There might have been even more dire consequences, Aunt. I might have married Charles Vernon.”
“No, you would not, for I would have stepped forward to prevent it,” Lady Martin averred. “You were far too clever for Charles Vernon and he would not have liked you for it.”
“Then we must hope that he has got a wife who is not too clever to suit him.”
“I think his wife would suit him better still if she did not come with a mother.”
“Charles told Sir Frederick that Lady deCourcy was a most attentive mother-in-law.”
“Hah!” exclaimed Lady Martin. “That is what your dear husband said because he has the provoking habit of making people out to be pleasing when they have neither the talent nor the inclination to live up to his good opinion! I have no doubt that what Charles Vernon said was that Lady deCourcy is a meddlesome busybody who is at Parklands Cottage with her daughter far more than she is at Parklands Manor with her own husband.”
“Is her husband’s company so tedious? His brother, Lewis deCourcy, is a most amiable gentleman.”
“Well, brothers are not always like, as you no doubt have learned,” replied Lady Martin. “Sir Reginald was the first son, and they do not have to be agreeable if they are not inclined. The marriage was arranged by their families when they were children, and women who are sure of a husband do not bother to cultivate any talents. If she had learned to play or paint or enjoy a book, she might be good for something other than prying into her daughter’s affairs, and Charles Vernon has no patience for a mother’s meddling.”
“Who does not like a mother’s meddling?” inquired Sir James, who entered the room in time to overhear the remark. “Not I, surely! Do I not come down every fortnight during the season so that you may tell me that I have attended too many parties and lost too much at cards?”
“You play too well to have suffered any loss of significance.” Lady Vernon smiled.
“I have lost only once, and then because I held my hand and did not play it when I should have,” he replied gravely.
“That will teach you to play high when you cannot afford to lose,” his mother said briskly. “You and your cousin have confidences to exchange, no doubt. You may take Susan for a turn about the grounds.”
Sir James gave his arm to his cousin and they set out toward the park.
“I went up to welcome Frederick and I must say that, while I mean no offense to Dr. Bentley—for I understand that his interest was diverted at Churchill, and that there is to be a Mrs. Bentley ere long—I had hoped to see Frederick in better color. I have all due confidence in the efficacy of Mother’s ma
rrow pie, but if your time with us does not improve him, you may want to consult with a specialist in London or Bath. So Vernon has been with you a good deal, has he?”
“Yes.”
“I am not fond of Vernon, but perhaps I have not done him justice. Does not a willingness to forgo so many weeks of diversion in London in order to attend Frederick—which is very different from what his conduct was toward his invalid father—bespeak an encouraging change of heart?”
“I would be easier in my mind if his partiality had come in easy stages, for I am always wary of a swift reversal of sentiment,” was Lady Vernon’s response. “A sudden change of heart is never to be trusted.”
chapter ten
Sir Frederick returned to Churchill Manor much stronger than when he had left it, and encouraged by any small symptom of energy or well-being, he disregarded the cautions of Dr. Bentley and the surgeon and resumed all of his former pursuits.
One afternoon, as summer was nearing an end, Sir Frederick and Lady Vernon made their way, in a leisurely fashion, around Churchill Pond to a point of rising ground that gave them a pleasant view of the scattering of fields and tenants’ cottages below. The sight seemed to inspire Sir Frederick anew with his obligation as husband, landlord, and master, and as they turned back, he raised the matter of amending his will and resolved that Mr. Barrett, the attorney from Churchill, would be sent for on the following morning.
He related, for the first time, Charles’s many pledges and promises regarding their legacy. “For Charles’s sake, as well as for your own, I was very pleased with his voluntary assurances—it does credit to his heart, for a man who has a wife and four children can have no motive other than goodness and affection to be liberal with mine.”
Lady Vernon could not share his complacency on this point, and she might have been sorry that she had allowed Charles to engage so much of her husband’s undivided interest if she were not certain that another day would legally preserve, from the profligacy of Charles Vernon, what was necessary for her security and Frederica’s future.
They discussed the particulars of how Sir Frederick’s wealth should be disposed of with the security that came from the conviction that they now had many more years before any of these contingencies would come to pass. With a tragic irony that will occur sometimes in life and always in novels, they had no sooner resolved upon the amount of their daughter’s fortune than Sir Frederick fell to the ground, and within an hour, he was dead.
Lady Vernon collapsed in a state of shock and was carried to her bed. Frederica remained steadfastly at her side while Wilson composed the necessary communications to the family and assisted the housekeeper in preparations for the arrival of visitors and in hastily dyeing garments for mourning.
The party that assembled at Churchill Manor was very small, consisting only of the Martins, the Manwarings, Mr. Lewis deCourcy, and Mr. and Mrs. Clarke, their neighbors from Staffordshire. Charles Vernon came alone, presenting to Lady Vernon a very pretty note of condolence from Mrs. Vernon and an apology that she could not be spared from Parklands and the children.
“How very unfeeling!” declared Lady Martin to her son. “Such incivility toward poor Susan! And as for Vernon, he struts about as though he is quite the master.”
“He is the master,” Sir James replied with more composure than he felt. “As for Mrs. Vernon, we must excuse her—perhaps she feared that there would have been as much indelicacy in her coming as incivility in staying away.”
Every household for ten miles around was represented at the funeral service, for Sir Frederick had been held in very high regard; and many side glances were cast toward Charles Vernon by the servants and tenants, who fervently hoped that the new master would be as quick to dispense alms and provisions and as tardy in the collection of his rents.
The Reverend Mr. Chapman read the service with feeling, as he had lost a great patron and friend in Sir Frederick. They had enjoyed many hours of backgammon in Churchill’s library, partaking of the excellent dark ale that Dr. Bentley had prescribed for Sir Frederick’s health, and every Sunday there seemed to be some point of theology that could not be resolved upon the parish steps and so obliged Mr. Chapman and his wife to dine with the Vernons in order to settle their differences.
The party returned to Churchill Manor to dine, and Charles Vernon did not scruple to take his brother’s place at the table, which gave such distress to Frederica that she burst into tears and ran out of the room. Lady Vernon followed her daughter and the rest sat down to awkward silence and more awkward conversation, and before the ladies withdrew, Vernon excused himself from the table and shut himself up in the library to write a letter to his wife.
Mr. Vernon to Mrs. Vernon
Churchill Manor, Sussex
My dear wife,
As circumstances have not permitted you to acquaint yourself with Churchill Manor and the surrounding property, I will have the pleasure of accompanying you on your first tour of the estate, and while it is nothing to Parklands, I do not think that you will be disappointed. The society will not be what you were accustomed to in Kent, but except for one or two families that we will be obliged to notice, the neighboring estates are just far enough to make the distance a convenient excuse for not always visiting back and forth.
As for how matters have been left, I congratulate myself that they are so far to our advantage, and that my time spent attending my brother was not done in vain. I believe that had I not sacrificed so many hours to his company and diversion, he might have dwelt upon his infirmity in a manner that may have persuaded him to amend his will and leave his fortune to Lady Vernon and her daughter. This I was able to forestall by some very general assurances that, in the event of his demise, I would always see that my sister and niece were comfortable. Be assured that no particular sum was ever stipulated, nor (though my brother spoke of the advantage of allowances and annuities) was any promised—and a very good thing it was for us, as my brother had so far recovered from the imprudence that compelled him to give up Vernon Castle, and laid aside a good savings—as much as thirty thousand pounds, perhaps—which will make a very fine addition to Churchill’s comfortable income.
Feel no distress, my dear Catherine, over what is to become of Lady Vernon and her daughter—recall that the house in town will be Lady Vernon’s outright, and that the sum settled upon her at the time of her marriage (to which my brother had added some three thousand pounds) will give her something to live on. If she wants anything more, I am certain that she need only apply to the Martins, as they are very rich.
My sister talks of placing Miss Vernon at school—yet while her education has certainly been neglected, I must think that such a place can do her no good. A temperament that is already weak will only fall prey to the giddy imaginations of those about her, and rather than attaining some measure of education, she will only incur permanent defects in understanding. She would greatly benefit from your example, and might be of some use to you in looking after the children and providing something of companionship to you when I am obliged to be in town. If you are at leisure to write, therefore, I would hope that you will send a few lines to Lady Vernon and encourage her to leave Miss Vernon with us.
Prepare our children for the change that they are to undergo and console your dear parents as far as you can. Sir Reginald and Lady deCourcy will be sorry to see us leave Parklands, but it is only a good day’s journey to Churchill, and when Sir Reginald’s health allows, I have every confidence that they will attempt it.
Our Uncle deCourcy is of the party assembled here, and I took the liberty of giving him your warmest regards, and those of your father and mother.
We shall need to purchase our own silver, as the service used at Churchill, as well as some other effects, were bequeathed to Lady Vernon and I am sure that she will take them away with her when she goes.
Your devoted husband,
Charles Vernon
chapter eleven
The following morning the pa
rty assembled at breakfast, but Lady Vernon rose feeling so ill that she was obliged to return to her bed and send Wilson down with apologies to her guests. In their presence, Vernon made a great show of concern and gave orders that everything was to be done to make Lady Vernon comfortable and that the servants need not defer to him before offering her any small amenity or service that her situation warranted. He then expressed his hope that the guests might remain at least long enough to see Lady Vernon once more, but if they were compelled to go sooner, he would convey to his sister-in-law their sincere apologies and regrets. This declaration could only make his company acutely conscious of their host’s desire for them to be off and so they all agreed that orders should be given for their carriages to be ready at two o’clock.
Vernon then went to his sister-in-law’s apartments, where she was sitting with Frederica and Wilson. Frederica avoided his gaze and looked as if she would like to run away, but her mother answered his inquiries after her health with as much composure as she could summon.
He then assured them that they were welcome to remain at Churchill Manor as long as they liked, and they were not to think for a moment that they might be in anybody’s way. Mrs. Vernon would not take it amiss if they were there still when she arrived. “I am certain that your kind friends have all quarreled over who is to take you away, and I know that you will not wish to be in a household with four active children, but if my niece is of the opposite opinion, she is very welcome to remain with us. You find yourself very low now, Frederica, but I think that the company of your cousins and the comfort of familiar surroundings will raise your spirits, will they not?”