Lady Elaine returned the letter to Fanny. On her return to her chambers, Lady Elaine felt drained from the day of disclosures, so fairly soon after that she and her husband climbed into bed.
The time at Holder Heights flew by, and before each family departed to their own estate, invitations were proffered and accepted. The Darcys and Fitzwilliams would stop at Netherfield on their way to Town after Andrew and Richard were dropped off at Eton.
Chapter 7
On arriving back at Netherfield Park, Fanny’s first order of business was to make sure all household issues were addressed; she met with Mrs. Nichols to hear if there were any urgent issues.
After Fanny washed and changed, she knew she could no longer put off the task before her. She retrieved the letter Cilla had written to Thomas, then made her way to the study, where he was going over the ledgers with Netherfield’s steward.
“Enter,” Bennet called when he heard a knock.
“Mr. Bennet, we need to talk. Is now a good time or would you prefer to finish your meeting with Mr. Harrelson first?” Fanny asked, almost hoping for the reprieve of more time. She prayed Thomas would not be angry with her.
“No, Mrs. Bennet; Harrelson and I had just completed our meeting, and we have scheduled to spend the whole of the day together on the morrow when we meet with Mr. Hill at Longbourn as well,” Bennet indicated the chair the steward just vacated. The man bowed to the master and mistress and took his leave.
“Thomas, what I have to tell you may shake the very foundation of our marriage, but I trust you will understand and not be too angry with me for not telling you the whole truth. Before I say more, I have a letter—from Cilla—I need you to read. After that, we can discuss all,” Fanny stated as she sat on the settee and patted the cushion next to her. As Bennet sat, she handed him the letter.
27 February 1790
Netherfield Park
Thomas,
If you are reading this letter then the worst has come to pass, and I am no longer with you and my dearest friend—my sister—in the mortal world. Let me start by begging you not to be angry with Fanny for not telling you all, as I have made her swear to honour my wishes.
I am aware that since the King tore Frederick and me asunder I have not been the same. I knew I was with child before my beloved went to his father and did not mention it to him just in case what I feared happened. To my everlasting sorrow, it did.
My will has been made over with the help of your brother Phillips. I am sure Fanny would have told you about the bequests to her, Jane, and any future daughters. She fought me valiantly on my bequeathing her and your children anything, but in the end I prevailed.
This letter signifies that not only am I dead, but that Fanny agreed to take my child as her own, and by extension your own. I am not sure Fanny will be able to wait until my son or daughter is eighteen to tell you, but that is what I intend to ask of her.
My reason for not telling Frederick he has a child is that the son or daughter will be fourth in line in succession to the throne, and I want our child to grow up with loving parents rather than being a piece of furniture forgotten at some country estate of the royals. Not telling you connects to not telling Frederick as I am sure you will insist he is informed soon after you know the truth.
I want my child to be raised by you and Fanny who, will love the child with all of your hearts—in other words, just what I have seen in you and Fanny and how you have so far raised our Jane. My ardent belief is that it is the same way you and Fanny will love all of your children, including the one I have asked you to take into your home and love as your own. I know not if you are reading this on my child’s eighteenth birthday or before then, but I do know this: I could not for ask better parents to love my child than you and Fanny.
As we will enter our confinements close to one another’s time, I will ask Fanny to tell you she bore twins—so I hope she does not, in fact, bear twins; that would make three babies a harder tale to tell—if I do not survive. I thank you both for whatever you have done for my son or daughter, and reiterate that if you are upset, it is me to whom your ire should be directed.
Both of your brothers know of these arrangements; Mr. Phillips will take care of all legal aspects, including holding the genuine page of the register that recorded the birth, and Mr. Gardiner, who will manage my heir’s fortune.
Until my child reaches his or her majority, Netherfield is yours, so use it as you see fit. All I can do is apologise from beyond the grave to you for this subterfuge and pray it does not diminish the love you feel for our dear Fanny or for the child you now know is not yours by blood.
My eternal thanks, and may God bless you and your family,
Cilla
“Lizzy,” Thomas whispered as he put the letter down.
“Yes, Thomas. Lizzy is Cilla and Prince Frederick’s daughter,” Fanny admitted with her head bowed as her tears flowed freely.
“Little Frederick buried next to Priscilla?” Bennet asked, already knowing the answer.
“Our stillborn son. It was her dying wish, Thomas. How was I to refuse her?” Fanny asked forlornly.
“Fanny, look at me,” Bennet requested as he gently lifted his wife’s head applying gentle pressure to her chin. “I am not angry. I understand you were sworn to secrecy, and should our son have survived, any child Priscilla left to us would be living in our household, as he or she would need us. Why inform me now?”
Fanny related the happenings at Holder Heights, and Bennet then understood why both Ladies Anne and Elaine had been fixated on Elizabeth. She explained that Lady Matlock had suggested she reveal the truth to him; her logic was needed as until then Fanny had had not known any person with permission to know the truth with whom she could discuss her burden. Without Lady Matlock’s advice, she would have waited until Lizzy was eighteen, just as Priscilla had requested.
“For me, Lizzy is as much my daughter as any of the other four. You will not push her away now will you, Thomas?” Fanny worried.
