A Season Lost

by Sophie Turner

  Elizabeth and Jane had interests that did not generally align with an embassy to China, and they were required to reply that they did not, and to be informed there was one, and it had been travelling on the frigate Alceste, and this frigate had been lost following a storm.

  “The Caroline is to replace the Alceste,” Darcy said, his voice tight, “and so Matthew has been ordered on to China, and Georgiana has every intention of going there with him.”

  Neither Elizabeth nor Jane had ever left England, and they had no great likelihood of doing so any time soon, with children and husbands binding them to the country, and so the notion of Georgiana’s going to China was very nearly as incongruous to them as it would have been if Buttercup the pony had trotted into the saloon and requested a dish of tea.

  After the necessary period of time required to comprehend this intelligence, Elizabeth said, “It seems an impossible journey for us, but Matthew must not have thought it so, or he would have found passage for her to return here. And perhaps after all that happened this winter, it is better that they are together, even if it is to travel to such a place.”

  This was the wrong thing to say. Darcy already blamed himself for what had happened over the winter: that Georgiana had fainted and fallen down the steps in his home, her childhood home, and lost a baby. To bring it up now, even if intended to assuage his concern over her going to China, was instead to criticise his remnant role as her guardian even after she had married, in looking after her while Matthew had been in the Baltic. Darcy scowled, and returned to reading the letter. He looked up some time later, when it seemed he had reached the end, and said:

  “And that is it. That is all the word I may expect of her until they reach Cape Town and she may deposit her next letters for delivery.”

  Elizabeth motioned to Henry to bring around another glass of port, and said, “I know it must come as a shock to you, my dear, but surely Matthew would not have acquiesced to her going with him unless it was safe. If they are to take Lord Amherst in any degree of comfort, the journey must be comfortable enough for a lady.”

  Darcy sighed, took up his new glass of port – much more quickly poured, now that the bottle had been roused up and decanted – and said, “How I wish right now that she had married some man bound to an estate, and yet if she had, he would be worried about the same things I am presently, and she with him, just as you are, Elizabeth. I believe there will be little respite for me from worry this year, and I suppose I should at present count my blessings for a wife who knows that at least some respite can come from my best old port.”

  +++

  The digging of the ditches took three days to organise as a concentrated effort. The farmers and their regular labourers, as well as the local day labourers, were ready to go and began sooner. Darcy had gone so far, however, as to recruit displaced manufactory workers – there were many of them, given the cutbacks that had followed the overproduction of the last few years – and they came walking into the local villages, sleeping several to a room in the inns if they could afford it, and paying a pittance to berth in the straw of the stables if they could not.

  Darcy went out early that morning, and given the rain seemed to be holding, Elizabeth was struck with the idea that she might ride out to see the progress. She inquired with Mrs. Reynolds as to what accommodations had been made for the labourers, was informed that cold meat, cheese, bread, and ale were already being prepared to send out as a nuncheon, and therefore went out empty-handed, riding Spartan and followed by one of the grooms.

  She knew not where to go, but thought they might start out toward Lambton and then go in the direction of Kympton if they saw no sign of the digging parties. Elizabeth felt quite comfortable on Spartan, although she would not have ventured out without a groom at the ready to assist her, but it was only when she came upon a long file of men, shovelling heavy sludge from one of the waterlogged ditches, that she realised she had never felt so much the lady of the manor as she did now, to be riding about and surveying the work occurring on her husband’s grounds.

  When she came closer to the men, however, she was shocked to realise he was among them, shovelling as vigorously as any of them. His back was to her and he did not see her approach, so Darcy was only alerted to his wife’s presence when one of the other men looked up and saw her, then called out, “Sir, ‘tis Mrs. Darcy.”

  He laid his shovel down and tromped over to where Spartan stood, saying, “Good morning, my dear. Did you come to see how we progress?”

  “I did,” she said. “I must admit I had not thought I would see you quite so actively involved, in this effort.”

  “I asked that any able-bodied man in the parish who was available come out to lend his assistance – and to be paid appropriately for it, of course. Am I not an able-bodied man of the parish?”

  “You are, of course, but you must admit you are not accustomed to this sort of labour, nor were you ever expected to be,” she said, looking more closely at him, and particularly at the glimpse she caught of his palms, which were a bright shade of pink. “Darcy, look at your hands. They will not last the day.”

  “I doubt I shall be the only man who finds his hands chafing by sunset.”

  “Yes, but you are the only one who needs said hands to balance the estate’s books and write letters of business, and as your wife I would prefer you be able to do so without being crippled by blisters. Let me send Thomas back for a pair of gloves, at least.”

  A few days ago, she had thought he looked older than his years. Now, the look he gave her was that of a petulant child who had been told he was too young to play with the older boys. Yet he must have known that even his attempt to be here among these men, in his top-boots and his clothes so much finer than theirs, meant something to them – meant a great deal to them, in all likelihood – and they were not likely to judge him if he needed to don a pair of gloves to see the day through.

  “Very well,” he said, and Thomas, the groom, was summoned up closer to his mistress and told to return to Pemberley and bring back whatever pair of gloves Mr. Darcy’s valet thought would be best for holding a shovel.

  Thomas’s departure and Darcy’s return to the line left Elizabeth seated there on Spartan, watching them. She was no longer concerned over her horsemanship, but felt an awkwardness to her presence that gradually dissipated as she realised that the men periodically glanced back at her with approval. She would never have been expected to join in the digging, but her presence there was a further support for their efforts, beyond her husband’s being there beside them in mud well past his ancles.

  Thomas returned, and the gloves were reluctantly donned. The rain came some time after this, a light rain, by present standards, and Elizabeth knew as soon as Darcy looked back at her that he would not abandon his efforts until the rain became bad enough for all of them to quit, but he would wish her to return home. She made her good-bye, therefore, asking if there was anything else that might be sent on from the house beyond the nuncheon Mrs. Reynolds had prepared – there was not – and turned Spartan around to ride back.

  When she had deposited the cob at the stables and walked back to the house, she summoned Mason and requested a hot bath be drawn for Mr. Darcy and kept topped up until whenever he finally made his return. It was the only thing she could think to do for him at such a time.

  For herself, she eschewed a bath but changed from her dampened riding habit into dry muslin, then went up to the nursery, pleased to find Jane there in addition to her sons. Jane was seated upon the floor before Bess, and the pair were engaged in rolling a leathern ball back and forth. Finding her sons still asleep, Elizabeth seated herself on the floor beside Jane and watched the simple game.

  “She’s getting very good at that,” Elizabeth said, as Bess pushed the ball with surprising velocity and accuracy toward her mother.

  “She is, isn’t she?” asked Jane, with a smile of motherly pride. “I think she has improved even since yesterday.” Her smile faded. “I only
wish Charles was here to see it. He has had to miss so much of her growing up.”

  “It must be hard on him – and you – for his time to be so divided between two places.”

  Jane sighed. “It is. We did not think it would be so bad, but we were not counting on the weather being as it is. Sometimes I wish – sometimes I wish we had not purchased Clareborne. I know it was the last step required for Charles to be considered a true gentleman, to own an estate, but if a gentleman is supposed to spend his time at leisure, he had far more leisure time when we were leasing our home.”

  “I had never thought about it in that way,” said Elizabeth.

  “I do not see why you would. Your husband and Pemberley are so much a part of each other that I could never imagine him without the estate. It is different for Charles, though – it is all new for him, and he does not have the confidence in running Clareborne that Fitzwilliam does for Pemberley.”

  “I must correct you there, I fear, for no man can find confidence in his skill at estate management this year, my husband included.”

  “Perhaps,” said Jane, “but he has much more experience to draw upon. Charles does the best he can, and I am glad Fitzwilliam gives his advice and our steward is very capable, but sometimes I wish we had not rushed to make a purchase. We were eager to leave Netherfield, it is true, but had we waited, we might have let the house at Barrowmere Park from you.”

  “Oh, Jane, how I wish you had not put that fantasy in my head. How I would have adored having you so close always!”

  “I would have adored it too, Lizzy, but unfortunately that is not how it came out. We have made the purchase and taken on the responsibility, and all I can do is provide Charles my support and encouragement as he does what he can for our tenants.”

  “Very true, and I believe Charles must be grateful for his choice of a wife, for I believe none could be as supportive and encouraging as you.”

  Jane’s modesty prevented her from forming a reply, but her smile and the subtle blush of her cheeks were more than sufficient gratitude for Elizabeth’s praise.

  “There is something else you should consider as well,” said Elizabeth, inspired to continue. “Think of what would have happened to the dependents of Clareborne if some family other than you and Charles had taken the estate – some family lacking in your generosity. What you and Charles lack in experience, you certainly do not lack in heart or sympathy.”

  Jane’s smile grew still warmer. “I had not considered it in that way, Lizzy, and that is a wonderful way to think about it.”

  +++

  Elizabeth had been hoping her husband would not be too tired for marital relations that evening, for there was something rather attractive as well as admirable about his having spent the day engaged in such earthy work. Her hopes were not met, however, for he flopped into bed beside her, groaned, and said:

  “I do not believe I have ever been so exhausted in my life as I am today. I do not know how men do this sort of work every day – I can hardly lift my arms above my head.”

  “They have grown accustomed to it, just as you have grown accustomed to your own activities. I am sure they would all be exhausted in their own way, if they attempted to take Kestrel on a ten-mile ride.”

  “Thank you for that, my dear. A little convincing of my masculine qualities was just the thing I needed right now, and were I able to lift my arms, I would embrace you.”

  Elizabeth chuckled, and leaned over to rub his shoulders with her hands. “Does that help, at all?”

  “I am not sure whether it does anything fundamentally beneficial, but it is very pleasing, regardless.”

  “Well then I shall continue,” she said, and did. “Despite your exhaustion, you must know that it meant a great deal to those men that you continued on beside them through the whole day. I could see it when I rode out – they respect and esteem you, perhaps even more than they did before.”

  “I wish I could say that I do it entirely for that purpose, to show solidarity with them,” said he, “but I believe my own greater motivation is just to be doing something to attempt to better the situation. Still, I am not so sure I should have promised to go back out tomorrow, for I fear I shall not be able to keep up with everyone else.”

  “I am sure you will wake much refreshed in the morning,” she said. “Now, let me see your hands. Kelly has a very nice rose balm she makes, that I think will be just the thing if they are sore.”

  “They are not sore,” he said, giving them over for inspection anyway.

  “Oh, they do look well enough,” she said, for while they were clearly forming some calluses, they were not nearly as bad as she had feared. “It is a good thing someone insisted you wear gloves.”

  “I suppose it is. And I see what you are attempting to do, Elizabeth – to teaze me, and make me forget my worries. They are not entirely forgettable, but I do appreciate your efforts.”

  That had not been the only thing she was attempting to do, and perhaps he knew this, but she would not press him on it, merely smiling at him to acknowledge his statement, and allowing them to lapse into silence. It became clear that her conversation had been the only thing keeping him awake, for this was enough to allow him to drop into sleep.

  Elizabeth rose to put out the candles that remained burning in his bedchamber, and looked back at him fondly, lying there in his pose of exhaustion. The best landlord, and the best master, Mrs. Reynolds had said, so long ago – or had it been the other way around? It did not really matter, to be precise about it: the sentiment was what she remembered, and the sentiment was exactly accurate. Elizabeth felt herself blessed, in this moment. Blessed, and exceedingly fortunate, that she had listened so carefully to Mrs. Reynolds, that she had reconsidered him, and that he had still been in love with her, so much so as to offer for her again.

  “Oh you good, considerate, honourable man,” she whispered, as she climbed back into bed and blew out the candle on the stand beside her. Then she smiled again, as she thought he would likely wake refreshed in the morning, as she had promised, and be far more interested in that other distraction she had to offer.

  Chapter 15

  Ever since Georgiana had come out into society, she had become accustomed to the hours of her class, of dining at six in the country and seven or eight in town, staying up as late as her evening entertainments required and sleeping late in the morning to accommodate for it. Even on board the Caroline, where the naval day began at noon but the ship’s activity, which never really ceased, increased significantly with daylight, she still enjoyed the luxury of sleeping late.

  On one morning, however, her sleep was violently interrupted by the pounding of a drum, shortly followed by Moll’s rushing into the cabin and telling her she must rise immediately and dress, for the ship was beating to quarters. In groggy confusion, Georgiana came awkwardly over the side of her cot and as soon as her feet touched the deck, Moll began dressing her, so rushed as to put Georgiana’s stays, petticoat, and dress on over her nightgown, rather than allowing her to change into a shift.

  The reason for this became apparent when Moll, feeling her mistress sufficiently dressed, stuck her head outside the cabin door and said it could be cleared now. Immediately, men carried the bulkheads that made up the very walls of the cabin away, and then began to work on the furniture and trunks stored within, taking them down to the hold.

  “Moll, what is happening?” Georgiana asked, looking down the length of the ship, where the men were running their guns out and checking their sights and locks.

  “From me understanding, we came across a slaver at dawn an’ gave chase, though t’was little chance of our catchin’ her. But then we got in a lucky shot with one o’ the bow chasers – the captain – I’m sorry, Commodore Stanton – himself aimed it, Bowden said – and it took out one o’ her spars, an’ that slowed her down enough for us to have hope of catchin’ her.”

  This was far from Georgiana’s first experience of the ship’s beating to quarters, altho
ugh usually it was done much later in the day and prefaced the ship’s practise on the great guns, something Matthew insisted on doing more days than he did not, even with Britain at peace. In the first few episodes of the great gun practise, Georgiana and the other women on the ship had been required to practise going to the forepeak, their place during a battle, if such an unlikely event were ever to occur. Once it had become clear they could make their way thither quickly, they had been allowed to observe the exercise, Georgiana standing beside Matthew while he explained to her what the gun crews were doing. This was followed by an impossibly loud chain of firing that inevitably led to the complete destruction of whatever target had been towed out: Matthew took the fighting capabilities of his ship very seriously, even in peacetime.

  “Does Commodore Stanton intend we should go to the forepeak immediately?” Georgiana asked.

  Moll looked lost as to an answer but was saved when Bowden came leaping down the companion-ladder, sighted his mistress, and said, “Milady, with the captain’s compliments, ‘tis safe enough still to go on deck for now so he can attend ye, if ye wish.”

  “Thank you, Bowden, and yes, I wish to see Commodore Stanton this morning, and would appreciate it if you attend me there,” Georgiana said in the most formal tone she could muster, endeavouring to recall him to his duty, for she feared he had become too caught up in this ship they were chasing and – if left unchecked – might put himself in a more dangerous position, where he could lose the sight of his good eye.

  She took his arm to where Matthew was standing at the front of the ship, and he bowed to his master as Matthew welcomed Georgiana. “Good morning, dearest. You are safe enough here for now, for our prey, whoever she is, has no stern chasers. I hope you were not roused too abruptly by our beating to quarters. I did not believe we would need to, until a lucky shot hit home.”

  “Most of my startling was by Kelly, and she would not allow them to break down the cabin until I was ready,” Georgiana said. “I am sure I was the cause of some consternation among your crew for slowing their progress. Indeed, all of your men seem particularly zealous today.”