This Elizabeth learned about in a flustered bout of hand-wringing from Cook, which proved to be largely driven by fear over losing her position to the foreign man rather than territorial possessiveness. Upon being reassured that Elizabeth had no reason to believe such a thoroughly English couple as the Stantons wished to dine on nothing but curries every evening, this primary concern of hers seemed to be assuaged. Cook did have a secondary concern, however, and this was that Rahul was putting much too much spice in the dish.
“I understand your concern,” said Elizabeth, “but I must presume he has made this dish many times before for the Stantons’s table on board the ship. I suppose Captain Stanton or certain of his dining companions has a preference for so much spice.”
“But that’s the thing, ma’am – he says it’s the lady as prefers the spice.”
Elizabeth chuckled, then did her best to turn it to coughing, for laughing would not help Cook regain any semblance of equanimity. Stealing a glance over at the spit, she said, “I am certain she will like your dishes as well, and surely she cannot have had a leg of mutton roasted so well as you do it, while on a navy ship.”
“D’ye think so, ma’am, truly?”
“I do. And it will not do your kitchen any discredit to have an extra curry or two on the table, in addition to what you had planned to provide.”
Cook nodded, and thus mollified, returned to her duties. The meal she and Rahul turned out would not have done discredit to any house, although those at the table were hardly focused on the quality of the food, for there seemed such an abundance of topics, they could hardly settle upon one. They began with the house, Elizabeth asking if they liked it and intended to keep it.
“We do intend to keep it – the house is perfect for our needs,” said Georgiana, “and we must thank you all for your efforts in readying it for us.”
“You are welcome – I think I may speak for all of us in saying we were happy to do so,” said Elizabeth.
“Indeed,” said Lord Anglesey. “Have you thought about what you shall name it? ‘Tis bad luck to keep the name of a failed estate.”
“Is it?” said Matthew, looking to his wife, who did not seem struck by any particular inspiration, as regarded names. “Stanton Hall, I suppose, unless we think of something better.”
Elizabeth stifled a giggle at how well Lord Anglesey had known his nephew, and the conversation shifted to the Stantons’s travels. There were portions of the journey that the Darcys and Lord Anglesey knew more of, from letters, and in their indication of this, the Stantons came to understand that their letters from Batavia and China had yet to arrive.
“I did not think there was a chance we should travel faster than our letters,” said Georgiana. “Oh, it must have been so confusing for you, particularly since it was in China that I informed you of being in the family way.”
“Yes, it was confusing,” said Darcy, in a voice more grave than had been the general tenor of the conversation.
“It is my fault – I should have told Georgiana to repeat anything important within multiple letters, or even to send duplicates,” said Matthew.
“I could hardly have sent duplicates of such ramblings as were in my letters,” said Georgiana, “but yes, I ought to have repeated the most important news.”
“I did not find them to be ramblings at all,” said Elizabeth. “And there is so much of your journey I want to hear more of. I hardly know what port interests me most.”
Georgiana smiled. “You may see it, as well, when we go through to the drawing-room, for I did many sketches of what I saw. I believe we know even less of what happened here during our absence, though. I received far fewer of your letters than you did of mine.”
“Well, you have become an aunt again – and you an uncle, Matthew. Mary and David had a little girl, Marianne.”
“Oh, how wonderful! I am so pleased for Mary and David, and for Caroline, that she should have a female cousin so near to her in age,” said Georgiana.
The Stantons were then informed of the other major events within the family that had taken place – the births of the younger Andrew Fitzwilliam and Amelia Bingley, and Anne de Bourgh’s drastic improvement in health and marriage to Mr. Smith. Georgiana’s reaction to the latter was extreme wonderment – having not seen Anne in more than a year, Elizabeth thought it likely she was still envisioning her cousin with a sickly constitution – and said she now understood why Smith’s farm had been broken up.
“It is undoubtedly a loss for Pemberley,” she said, “but I am very glad for him.”
“Yes, it is a loss I was more than willing to bear,” said Darcy. “And he is already making progress in turning Rosings around. It suffered more heavily than many last year, and the weather this year looks to be only a little better than the last, so it will be of great benefit to Rosings to have a master in place who can make the best of it.”
“I understand you saw truly terrible weather last year,” said Georgiana. “It is strange to think about, for a good deal of the weather we saw was very fine, although that first time around the Cape was terribly cold.”
“It was worse than terrible,” said Darcy. “If there was a year for you to be gone from England, I suppose last year was the best one for it. Pemberley was less impacted than most because we were able to bring some corn to market, and the price was so high due to the scarcity of grains.”
“It was that way across the country – estates either survived due to the scarcity, or failed with their harvests, as Archbolds did,” said Lord Anglesey. “The weather on the continent was no better, so there were no grains to be imported, save some from Russia, which was not hit so badly. Many people starved last year, and there was a great deal of unrest.”
“We did all we could, for those in our parishes,” said Darcy, “and then some, for many of the Derbyshire factories had released workers, and some settled in Lambton and Kympton, seeking work.”
“You did far more than most, then,” said Lord Anglesey. “If every man of power in the country took such responsibility for his dependents, there would be no need for Parliament to act, as regards the poor.”
There was some silence, after he said this; Elizabeth wondered if it was one last veiled attempt to recruit her husband by appealing to his sense of duty. The awkwardness passed, however, when Lord Anglesey, having not been warned in advance as Darcy had been to take care if he sampled the curry, took an unconcerned bite and immediately began a coughing fit which was only mitigated when he was finally able to take a glass of wine. Thankfully, Lord Anglesey was the sort of earl to be amused by this loss of his dignity; he glanced at his niece, eating the dish with aplomb, laughed, and then asked after his brother Harold. The remainder of dinner, therefore, was filled with tales of the Stantons’s time in Bombay, and the party returned to conviviality.
The ladies went through and seated themselves in the drawing-room, and for a moment the awkwardness returned, the two sisters alone together for the first time in more than a year. So many topics came to mind that Elizabeth could not settle upon one to raise, and it was Georgiana who spoke, saying, “That dress is very pretty – I believe I shall have to have all of mine altered and retrimmed, if that is the fashion now.”
“I am sure my maid has her sister set to work on it already, presuming Mrs. Kelly has had done with her,” said Elizabeth. “Sarah Kelly has decided to make me quite in the mode. And you have a very good base to start from – that muslin is exquisite.”
“I brought back quite a lot, from India – you shall have your pick of it,” said Georgiana, chuckling with what seemed extreme amusement, and then as if to explain herself, saying, “When we left China, I was growing too large for my old dresses, and the only material Matthew had been able to procure were these exceedingly vivid shades of silk. He said I looked like a ripe strawberry.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am very curious to see these gowns, now.”
“Oh no, no-one must ever see them! – I shall give them to Mrs. T
aylor as perquisites, and I only fear that when she sells them, their inevitable end will be on a Spice Island woman.”
Georgiana was prevented explaining what a Spice Island woman was – although Elizabeth was fairly certain she understood – because the very maid she had been speaking of entered the room, gave a perfect curtsey, and said the little one had need of her mother.
“I am sorry to leave you on your own,” said Georgiana, rising.
“I shall have a look through your sketchbook, which will occupy me very well,” Elizabeth said, picking it up from the table.
Elizabeth was still flipping through the sketchbook and discovering a great many things she wished to ask her sister about, when Georgiana returned and was seated.
“I would have thought the gentlemen would join us by now, but I have been enjoying your sketches too much to mind,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps your uncle wished to talk politics.”
She was surprised to find that this statement seemed to perturb her sister, for Georgiana turned rather pink before she said, “It is Matthew who raised the topic they are discussing, I believe, and it is something I must speak with you about, as well.”
“Of course – what is it?” asked Elizabeth, concerned.
“We chose to christen Caroline on the ship. We thought it best not to wait until we reached England.”
“That seems very prudent of you.”
“I hope Fitzwilliam will think so. One of her godmothers is Mrs. Travis – she is the wife of the sailing master, so she was present. We named you the other.”
“Thank you, Georgiana – I would be honoured to be her godmother.”
Georgiana nodded. “Lord Amherst offered to be her godfather. We did not think we should turn him down, but I fear Fitzwilliam will think it a slight. After all, you named me George’s godmother, and he is in part named after me.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth thought it very likely that Georgiana’s fears would prove founded, but said nothing that would increase her sister’s concerns.
“Matthew is asking Fitzwilliam and Lord Anglesey to serve as Caroline’s guardians, though, should anything happen to him. We were hopeful that would ease any hurt feelings, and of course they are the two who would be best suited for it.”
“I pray it is never a position they should have to take up, but yes, I agree they would be best suited for it.” Such things were never what Elizabeth wished to dwell on – she knew her sons would be left to the guardianship of Charles and Edward, should anything happen to Darcy – but in this instance she did think it likely that asking Darcy to take up this weightier responsibility, should tragedy occur, would do a great deal in easing feelings that would almost inevitably be hurt.
When the gentlemen came through not long after this, Elizabeth thought her husband did look a touch ruffled, but after she had opened Georgiana’s sketchbook to one of the drawings she was most curious about – what appeared to be the Great Wall, in China – and asked her sister about it, he seemed to soften during the ensuing description. If he had remained upset, he would likely have slipped into reserve, and this he did not do, as animated as all of them were in commenting on Georgiana’s sketches, eager to learn more about each of the places the Stantons had visited.
She could only know with certainty whether his feelings had been wounded when they both retired for bed, and Elizabeth knew as well that before this could happen, she would be presented with a thorough apology by Sarah, for what had happened earlier that day amongst the Kellys. This Sarah gave as soon as she entered the room Elizabeth had taken to using as a dressing-room – it had a vast pile of disused furniture and other detritus stacked in one side of the room, but the other had been made usable enough for her to change within.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry for what happened earlier,” Sarah said, dropping into an even deeper curtsey than usual. “If I had known what my mamma intended to do, I’d have sent her back home, or at least not let her stay here where she could do that in front of you.”
“It is nothing, Sarah. You really must work on developing some arrogance. Anyone else who had your accomplishments would have swaggered in here without feeling the slightest need to apologise, for surely your fashionable skills are more than sufficient exchange for witnessing a little family drama.”
Sarah looked at her as though most of what Elizabeth had said was entirely unintelligible, and did not reply.
“I hope your family were able to get things to a better place after we went in.”
“We were, ma’am. My mamma’s still angry, but she understands there’s naught what she can do.”
“It must have been quite a shock, to learn your sister had married. Have you had a chance to meet Mr. Taylor?”
“I did, and he seems a good sort of man, if a little rough.”
“I suppose a man who has lived most of his life at sea would be.”
“Moll says he has tattoos,” Sarah whispered.
“Oh my – I wonder what of.” And where, Elizabeth thought but did not say, for she knew the mortified reaction this would prompt.
Changed into her nightgown, she went through to the bedchamber, where her husband was lying in bed already and returned to looking vaguely troubled. This bed was far older than his at Pemberley, and gave a loud creak as Elizabeth climbed into it, looking at him expectantly.
“So you are to be a godparent to Georgiana’s firstborn child, and I am not,” he said, quietly.
“Only because she had a girl. If Caroline had been a boy, I presume our situations would have been reversed,” she said, searching his face to better understand his emotions, which were inscrutable at present; he seemed flat, rather than sad. “Was it very hurtful to you, to be – to be excluded?”
“It was not hurtful because of that,” said he. “It made me consider something I had not before considered – whether my prior ways had some negative influence on my sister.”
“Whatever can you mean by that?”
“I mean, did I teach Georgiana, through my words, my manners, my actions, to value gaining connexions over familial love?”
“Oh, my love, I pray you will cease thinking that at once. Nothing Georgiana has ever said or done has given me the slightest belief that such are her priorities, including this.”
“Yet she has chosen to connect her daughter to Lord Amherst.”
“Yes, and you have voiced her motivation, even if you have interpreted it in a manner I cannot agree with. Familial love is what she values, but I fear the love of a daughter must outrank the love of a brother. Can you deny her the wish to do something that should be beneficial to Caroline in the future?”
“No, of course not. I had not thought of it in that way.”
“And I suppose I had not, either. The misgivings you voiced, when you first proposed to me – ”
“Oh, pray do not remind me of that, on this night.”
“Please, though – let me complete my thought, for it puts you in a better light than I believe you are putting yourself at present.” He nodded, and Elizabeth continued, “some of the misgivings you voiced were about connexions. I was not thinking of the opportunities for connexions you would lose, in proposing to me, but surely those connexions would have been of most benefit to an unmarried younger sister, your closest living relation and one you care deeply about.”
“Yes, but I was wrong, Elizabeth. The genuine care you give to Georgiana as a sister, the loving relationship she gained, was worth far more than any connexions,” he said. “And moreover, you formed those very connexions yourself, in time, because you are clever and interesting, and people like Lady Tonbridge and Countess Esterházy enjoy your company, as I always have. These are the things I ought to have seen.”
“I never said you were right,” Elizabeth replied, archly, “but I do give your motivations more merit now than I did then.”
He chuckled, and smiled faintly. “I do wish she had told me herself, rather than Matthew. He says he was the one who pushed for it, but – I fear Geor
giana has been distant since she returned. She is so changed, she seems almost a stranger.”
“I hope you cease thinking of her in that way, for we both know how you feel about conversing with strangers.”
He chuckled softly, again, and Elizabeth was glad he was still within the influence of humour.
“She has been through an incredible experience, and she has become a mother,” Elizabeth said, “She has hardly been back a day, though, and I am sure once you have a chance to spend more time with her, you will find she is much as she ever was, and where she has changed, it is for the better.”
Chapter 43
Georgiana was awake when Matthew made his departure, but only because Caroline had awakened her, crying and in need of nursing. He had kissed her good-bye as she sat there with their suckling child, promising he would return as soon as he could. Georgiana had returned to bed after Caroline had nursed her fill, until such time as the baby awakened her again.
She came in to breakfast rather late, therefore, but both Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were still there, Fitzwilliam commencing upon what appeared to be a fresh pot of coffee. There was much to do that day, Georgiana realised, for the tea she poured out for herself was not the lovely green Matthew had procured in China, although she recalled seeing it amongst the great quantity of items that had been deposited in the entrance-hall. She had yet to meet much of the staff of the house, yet to have an interview of substance with either the housekeeper or the butler, yet to acquaint herself with what had already been done to improve the house and what was still needed, yet to make progress on the substantial stack of correspondence that had been forwarded on from Pemberley and Lord Anglesey’s house in town for her, written by those who had not attempted to write to her on the Caroline. Of it, she had opened only the letter from Governor MacCarthy of Sierra Leone, informing the Stantons that the funds sent to him had been put to their intended use, and the recipients most grateful, a letter that had gladdened Georgiana’s heart.
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