“I could not stand by and have my wife upset by such a cruel comment,” Matthew said, firmly.
“You might have censured him for having made it, rather than overreacting and giving him a direct cut,” Lord Anglesey said. “Do you have any notion of the risk you have taken?”
“I am sorry, uncle, but I do not see where there has been a risk. His career is in the church, and mine in the navy – he can have very little influence on my life, even if he has been so angered by the cut as to be vindictive about it.”
“I meant in causing scandal for this family,” Lord Anglesey said. “How should it look for us, if the cut becomes public?”
“I do not see how it will,” Matthew said. “There is no benefit to him in making such a thing known, and I do not believe any of those who were present shall share it. I hardly saw him before, and I shall not see him at all, now.”
“And how are you to handle things, now that your families are so interconnected?” Lord Anglesey asked. “You must have already created awkwardness for your hosts at Pemberley, and you can hardly imagine this will be the last time you are all invited to a house party.”
“I do not think he will be invited back to Pemberley. Mr. Darcy was as angry as I over his comment. My father was allowed to remain for Mrs. Stanton’s benefit, so as not to disrupt the wedding, but that is all.”
“Is there any chance of your rescinding the cut? If you wish to write to him, to apologise, I would certainly write a covering letter for you.”
“No, it is done, and I shall not go back on it.”
Lord Anglesey sighed and shook his head. “You have needlessly made yourself an enemy, out of your own father.”
“I must disagree with you there. There was every need to do what was done.”
“Then we shall always disagree on that point. I find this whole business to be very badly done, and I never would have expected to be so disappointed in you, Matthew.”
At this comment, Matthew’s face, which had been impassive, showed just a little of how tremendously wounding this statement had been to him. Georgiana looked at him with concern and wondered if she should say something in his defence, for she still agreed with him that the action they had taken had been the right one.
In the end, neither of them spoke, for there was a knock at the door, and Lord Anglesey’s butler, on being told to come in, said quietly to his master: “Viscount Castlereagh and Mr. Adams are here.”
“Send them in once my nephew and niece have left,” Lord Anglesey said. “There is no more progress to be made on this topic.”
Georgiana and Matthew both rose and made their way wordlessly out of the room and up to the bedchamber they shared. Once he had closed the door behind them, Georgiana embraced her husband and said, “I am sorry that went so badly. I know how important his approval is to you.”
“I cannot say I thought it would go well, but I did not realise how strongly he would be against it.”
“Nor I,” said Georgiana, “but I still believe we did the right thing.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, dearest. I only hope that over time his disapproval will lessen.”
“I think that it will.” Unfortunately for them, their stay in London was to be of short duration, merely long enough for Matthew to call on the Admiralty and learn what his next assignment would be when his ship, HMS Caroline, came out of dry-dock, and thus there was not much time for Lord Anglesey to soften before they would depart for Chatham.
Lord Anglesey did not soften over dinner, nor in the drawing-room following it, and when Georgiana awoke the next morning and thought of how they would have to face a most cold-mannered earl over breakfast, she began to wonder if she should suggest they depart for Chatham earlier than they had planned. She was overcome, then, by a sensation of nausea, one that showed no signs of lessening, and she rushed from the bed to find an empty voilder.
It is strange for a lady to be overcome by a tremendous happiness, while she is losing her stomach in a porcelain basin, and yet this was precisely what Georgiana felt. For to be overcome with sickness in the morning meant it was probable she was with child again, and this was the very thing she had been desperately hoping for since she had miscarried her first child. She felt Matthew come up behind her, holding her hair and rubbing her back until she finished, and could turn into his embrace, weeping softly.
“I needed something good in my life right now, and there could not have been anything better, than to think you are with child again,” he murmured.
“I am so relieved it happened so quickly. So relieved, and so terribly happy,” Georgiana said. “I will have to be very careful – I did feel a little dizzy at times yesterday, but thought it was because of the travel and the discussion with your uncle.”
“Bowden has already offered to give you his arm whenever you need to use stairs and I am not at hand.”
“And I will take him up on it,” Georgiana said, then frowned. “I suppose we are following your father’s advice, after all.”
“That advice never needed to be given, least of all in the manner it was,” he said. “You had never fainted before, and now that you have, we know to go about things differently. Georgiana, please do not dwell on what happened, or his words. Let us make this a happy day.”
He rose and helped her to stand, and Georgiana felt a wave of familiar dizziness. It was cause for caution – she knew that now – but it was also further confirmation that she was with child again, and so it lifted her spirits further. Matthew changed for breakfast quickly, but said he would wait outside the room to take her down, and as he and his valet left, into the room came Moll Kelly.
Moll had thus far proven a competent maid for Georgiana, although she lacked the more staid disposition of her elder sister, Sarah. This she proved yet again when she glimpsed the chamber pot and exclaimed, “Aye, another baby on the way for you, then? I’m that glad for you, milady.”
“Yes, it is likely that there is, but you should not speak of it until I have,” Georgiana said, giving her a mildly censorious look. In truth, Moll’s breaches in propriety amused her far more than they vexed her, but she still thought it best that Moll learn some manner of boundaries.
“Oh bugg – I mean, I’m sorry, milady, I shouldn’t have spoke of it, only I was so happy you should have another baby after – after what happened.”
“Thank you, Moll. I do appreciate that you are happy for me, but you must remember yourself,” Georgiana said. In so speaking, she committed a breach of propriety herself, for now that Moll formally held the position of lady’s maid, she ought to have been called Kelly. Yet Moll found being addressed thus exceedingly odd, and requested she continue to be called Moll all of the time; however, her mistress found this exceedingly odd. In time, they had reached a compromise, that Georgiana use her maid’s Christian name when it was just the two of them, and her surname in more formal circumstances.
“Of course, milady.”
Whatever else might be said about Moll, she was a hard worker and had been thoroughly trained by her sister, so that rather quickly, Georgiana was stepping outside the door to the bedchamber, to take up Matthew’s arm.
“Do you think we should tell our uncle?” she asked. “I normally would not suggest it, so early on, but perhaps it might serve as a distraction to have some different news.”
“Perhaps we should. Let us see how he is, at breakfast.”
Lord Anglesey was seated at the table already, drinking coffee and looking a little more mild-mannered on this morning, which was confirmed when he held up his hand and said: “I do not wish for further discussion over the cut. You know my stance on it, and I yours, and as none of us is like to budge, all I will say beyond this is that if you do ever wish to take it back, I shall do everything in my power to assist you in reforming the connexion.”
“Thank you, uncle,” Matthew said.
In great relief did he and Georgiana make their selections from the sideboard and sit down at the tabl
e, where Matthew picked up the newspaper and remarked on the embassy to China’s having sailed from Portsmouth.
“A fool’s errand, if you ask me,” said Lord Anglesey, “although the East India Company is funding it, so at least it should cost our government little beyond the use of a few naval ships.”
“Yes,” said Matthew, reading on. “The Alceste and a brig, Lyra. But why should it be a fool’s errand?”
“Nothing has changed, since the last embassy, and thus there is no reason to expect any different outcome,” Lord Anglesey said. “Diplomacy only works when there is respect. The Alceste is a frigate, is she not?”
“Yes, thirty-eight guns. French-built – she was the Minerve, before she was captured.”
“I would have sent a third-rate, at least,” said Lord Anglesey. “It is not as though they have anything better to do, with the war over. Let the Chinese see why Britannia rules the waves.”
“It might have had to do with navigation. A frigate can get into places a seventy-four cannot.”
“You are missing the point, Matthew,” said Lord Anglesey, although kindly.
The gentlemen, perhaps remembering that an embassy to China was not the most interesting topic of conversation for the lady at their table, turned the conversation to their plans for the day. Matthew would be calling on the First Lord, while Georgiana intended to call on the Dowager Viscountess Tonbridge and the Gardiners, the only friends of hers she knew to be in town. She was informed that she would already be seeing Lady Tonbridge later that evening, the lady having been invited to dinner, and Georgiana took this as confirmation that the widow and the earl, a widower himself, were still carrying on what had been a longstanding affair.
She thought she should also make an appointment with Dr. Whittling, the accoucheur physician she and Elizabeth both saw when in town, but decided not to mention it to Lord Anglesey just yet. Now that he had offered to put the issue of the cut behind them, it seemed less necessary, and she thought it better to wait until the baby was further along. The possibility of another child, now that the initial bliss had passed, made her a little anxious as she thought of Matthew’s learning of his next assignment. He had promised her that they would stay together always, and if he was to be sent somewhere she could not go while pregnant, he would have to refuse it. He had said he would do so, and yet Georgiana knew this would not be an easy thing for him.
When Matthew returned from the Admiralty, however, it was with a happy countenance, and Georgiana thought this meant a more favourable assignment than his last, to carry despatches to the Baltic over the past winter. Matthew confirmed her thoughts by saying:
“I have been assigned to carry coin to Gibraltar, and then to serve at Admiral Penrose’s discretion there,” he said. “With any luck we should have a chance at some time in the Mediterranean, and it is a perfectly hospitable place for you to be, while with child. That is, if you do still wish to live on board ship in that condition – would you prefer I refuse the assignment?”
“No, of course not. I believe I can be perfectly comfortable living on board the ship, and I should like to see a little of the world before the child is born.”
“Good – I cannot say how pleased I am to think of going there together,” he said. “And I have not forgotten about our finding a home, either. We shall not have time to do so now, but I will ask my uncle to look out for a suitable purchase. Would you be comfortable giving him leave to do so? If you would prefer to find it ourselves, we may – it would just mean waiting until we return.”
“I would be open to his looking out for a purchase, at least,” Georgiana said. “There is no guarantee that what we wish for should come available, but if it does while we are gone, I would not want to miss our chance. You think he would be willing to do this for us?
“Yes, I believe he would. Hampshire is near enough that he can manage the inquiries from town,” Matthew said. “And I feel confident again of his willingness to help us as he can. I am so glad things are easy between us again.”
“I am so glad of so many things right now,” Georgiana whispered, and embraced him.
Chapter 3
The weather had been poor that winter, and when it did break, Elizabeth was eager to take advantage of it. Therefore, when her husband suggested she return to horseback riding on what looked to be a mild day, she agreed readily – although requesting they begin slowly, for it was not yet three months since she had given birth to twins.
It was very strange to be back up on Buttercup, the stout old pony Darcy had been teaching her to ride on before her pregnancy had progressed too far, and riding along through the woods. Strange, yet also very pleasing, to be breathing fresh, chilly air after having to spend so much time indoors, and to find that all she had learned about riding came back to her quickly. She felt no soreness related to birth – that, for her, had gone away rather quickly – although she was certain that after the ride, she would feel the soreness of using her legs in a manner they had not been used in for some months.
“You look very well, Elizabeth,” Darcy said. “Being out of doors always did become you.”
“That, and apparently not wearing a cap,” she said.
“Are you to tease me over that, now?”
“I must get some diversion out of using my Parisian lace on a cap I shall not be allowed to wear for thirty years.”
“If you continue to tease me over it, I might wait for nearer to forty.”
“You know that will not stop me.”
“I shall just have to distract you, then,” he said. “Should you like to try a canter?”
“Yes, I suppose so. I feel quite comfortable,” Elizabeth said, and then, for she knew it must be her topic to raise: “In fact, I think once I have practised a bit more on Buttercup, it might be time for me to try Spartan. There is less risk, now that I am no longer with child.”
“Indeed?” he asked, and Elizabeth could see he was very pleased by this, her proposal to try the cob. “There really was not much risk before – he is a little more challenging than Buttercup, but still well within your skills. I am glad you wish to try him now, though. I do think you will like him, and soon enough Buttercup shall be required for the boys to learn. I think to start them together on Buttercup while I look for a suitable pair of younger ponies. They must each have their own.”
“You might hold off a little while before purchasing ponies, Darcy. They can hardly hold their own heads up.”
“True,” he laughed. “I suppose I am just eager for us all to ride together as a family.”
“That would be very nice,” Elizabeth said. She had not thought of it before, but the notion of her boys being grown enough to be riding alongside their father and mother on these imagined ponies was very pleasing to her, although she did not want her sons to grow up too quickly.
Darcy was looking at her expectantly, to begin the canter, for his horse, Kestrel, could very nearly outpace Buttercup’s canter at a trot. Elizabeth flicked her whip, to send the pony into a trot, and then again to canter, and Darcy was almost instantaneously up alongside her.
They rode on like this for some time, Elizabeth smiling at the thought that they were nearly at the end of winter, and the weather should only get better, before she reined the pony down to a walk. It was only when she did so that she noticed Darcy looking over his shoulder with some concern. She followed his glance to see dark clouds on the horizon.
“I do not like the look of that sky,” she said.
“I had been thinking the same thing,” he replied. “We had better return.”
“Yes. I am glad at least we had a little time out here today.” Elizabeth turned Buttercup around, so they could return on the same path they had taken. Now facing the oncoming clouds, she saw they were moving quickly and began to grow concerned.
“Do you feel up to cantering back?” Darcy asked. “I should hate for us to get caught in that.”
Elizabeth was not at all sure she was physically ready to c
anter all the way back to the stables, but she thought it a better course than getting caught in a cold February rain.
“Let us try,” she said, and once again got Buttercup into his canter. Although she had worried a little at her ability to stay at this pace, she found it more exhilarating than painful, to rush along the path with the wind increasingly whipping about her. She urged Buttercup up to such a speed that Darcy needed to canter Kestrel beside her, and it was only when they were in the field approaching the stables that she reined the pony down to a trot and then a walk, to enter the yard.
There, Darcy sprang down from Kestrel’s back, handed the horse off to a groom, and came over to assist her down. It was only when she went to take her first few steps on the ground that Elizabeth felt the results of her exertions, and said, “Oh my, that was rather too much, too soon.”
“Indeed it was – I did not think old Buttercup could still manage a gallop,” he said, then turning to the groom who held the pony’s reins, “Cool him down; he has had much more than his usual exertion today.”
The groom coughed, which Elizabeth thought might have been his indication that Buttercup’s usual exertion in a given day was to consume his hay and oats. The Darcys made to cut through one of the stable blocks to return to the house, but the clouds reached them in a sudden violent downpour of hail, beating loudly on the roof.
“Well, I am very glad of our rushing back, now,” Elizabeth said. “I would hate to have been caught in this.”
They stood there at the stable door, watching the little glistening balls of ice bounce off the ground, the grooms leading those horses that had been turned out in the paddocks back at a rapid trot, the horses terribly unhappy at being beaten by the hail. Darcy was silent, and as the hail began to slow, Elizabeth grasped his hand and said, “Are you worried over what this will do to the fields?”
“Yes,” he sighed, “the winter wheat particularly. It has already suffered so much rain. I am only glad this was not of longer duration.”
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