In the more than seven years since Ellie had been taken from them, life had gone on for the Wendells; none of them ever forgot Ellie. Even for Wendell, who had accepted she had been murdered by whoever it was who had robbed him, his little Ellie still lived in his mind.
Her dowry account, which he never expected she would claim, had been transferred to a Mr Edward Gardiner in 1796. He more than doubled the rate of return of the funds. By the time Ellie would have been ten, her ten thousand pounds had more than doubled. As none of them ever spoke of Ellie outside of the tight circle of their close family, Wendell never told Gardiner it was a dowry for his missing, presumed dead, daughter.
Cilla had kept to her promise and had been the best mother to her sons as possible. When David had begun at Eton at the age of fourteen, two years after Ellie had been taken, she had missed him but still had Barney at home. That was until the new school year of 1799, when he had also begun his studies at Eton. By then, David had been in his first year at Cambridge. At least Barney had William and Richard with him at Eton, although they were a year ahead of him at school. Andrew was one year ahead of David at Cambridge, so he too was not alone at university.
Elaine had been her stalwart since Ellie’s disappearance. The late Anne Darcy had been as well. It still hurt three years after Anne’s passing. She had been so happy that she had finally been blessed with a second child, and on the fourth of March 1797, she, Elaine, and Catherine de Bourgh had attended Anne when she had delivered a daughter. The girlwas named Georgiana Felicity Darcy.
Little Giana, as everyone called her, was as healthy as could be, but the bleeding never stopped, and Anne got weaker and weaker. The day before she passed away, Anne had her three sisters—Cilla was counted as one as well—in her bedchamber with her where she had elicited promises to look after her children, especially Giana. Even at the end, she had funned with Catherine, making her promise not to attempt to impose her will on the Darcys.
Catherine’s husband, whom she had grown to love, had passed away eight years past, and her beloved daughter, Anne de Bourgh, had contracted a virulent strain of scarlet fever which had taken her to God’s side before she was ten years old.
Being able to assist the Darcys made Catherine feel like she was being useful. Although she was the owner of Rosings Park and the other de Bourgh properties and holdings, Lady Catherine spent no time at them. Being either at the estate in Kent or de Bourgh House in London reminded her too much of her losses. She told Elaine and Reggie that as soon as Richard graduated from university, it would all be his.
Robert Darcy had wanted to withdraw within himself, but his sisters-in-law had not allowed him to be so self-indulgent. At first unwillingly but soon willingly, he fulfilled his role as father and master. The thing which had turned him around was when Catherine suggested he ask himself if Anne would have been happy with how he was behaving. Darcy had remembered the vows he had made to his beloved wife before she was called home to God and began to act in a manner of which she would have been proud.
At least that leech George Wickham, was no longer hanging around the Darcys, Fitzwilliams, and Wendells. Darcy’s steward, Lucas Wickham, had joined his wife in death in 1798. Although Robert Darcy did not want to believe how bad the son of his late steward was, there had been too much evidence to ignore. Rather than send Wickham to receive agentleman’s education, Darcy had only agreed to pay for local schooling with others of his station. Wickham had not been well pleased, but it was all he would receive. His former patron had made it clear there would be no more from him—ever.
Her thoughts returned to the present. Cilla was dreading the morrow. It was the fifth day of March, the day Ellie would be ten, and no matter what anyone else believed, Cilla knew she was alive somewhere. She could feel it. Her husband and sons knew better than to try and tell her Ellie was no longer living.
Elaine was the only other one who believed the same. Anne had as well, but her support was being sent from heaven now. Yes, tomorrow, like all of her darling girl’s birthdays spent away from her, would be excruciating.
Chapter 5
July 1803
Fanny had never been so large as she was now when she was carrying Jane, James, or Mary. Add to that it felt like this babe never rested; she felt almost constant movement and kicks. Worse, it was a hot summer, and on days like this, the penultimate day of July when there was no breeze, the heat was oppressive.
Hattie and Maddie were with her. The former had never been blessed with children, and the latter had been blessed with three children so far. Edward, called Eddy, was seven; next, Peter was five, and the youngest Gardiner was Lilly, who was three. Maddie knew she was with child again. Also attending Fanny was her very good friend, Sarah Lucas, now Lady Lucas since her husband had been knighted. Sarah never demanded her friends stand on ceremony with her.
After being knighted, Sir William had sold his businesses in Meryton and purchased the Saltz’s estate, Hollow Run. That family had moved to Devonshire, where Mr Saltz had inherited a much larger estate. Hollow Run had been renamed Lucas Lodge.
Mother Beth would have attended the birth, but Fanny had requested she entertain the children. Jane was fifteen, Lizzy was twelve, James was recently seven, and Mary was four. She knew her children were always nervous during times like this, and no matter how much they all loved Mrs Weasley and their nursemaids, having their beloved Grandmama Beth with them calmed their worries most of all.
This was especially true of Lizzy. Even though she did not remember how she came to live with the Bennets, she, more than the others, got very nervous when she was separated from her parents or other family members.
She was aware Thomas was pacing up and down in the hallway outside of the birthing chamber. It was a balm to her soul to know her husband wanted to be as close to her as possible. If Fanny did not think she would scandalise the midwife and the ladies attending her, she would have demanded that Thomas be with her in the room.
The waters had broken, and none too soon for Fanny; it was time to push.
“Fanny, you have another daughter!” Hattie exclaimed when the midwife handed the squalling babe to Mrs Hill.
“She is a little smaller than Mary was when she was born, but she looks healthy. There is a full head of dark hair like your mother-in-law and Lizzy,” Madeline related. “She is a lively one. Do you and Thomas have names picked out yet, or do you wait until you know you have a healthy babe?”
“We only choose names once we have a living babe…Owwwww. Mrs Dudley, why am I having pains like I am labouring again? With my previous births the afterbirth never pained me like this,” Fanny demanded. “What is happening to me?”
“Let me look and see what…oh my! Mrs Bennet, I see another head. You have twins!” Mrs Dudley got down to the work of delivering the next child.
Thankfully for Fanny, it was over soon. There was the mewling of a second babe. “This one is much quieter than the first one born. Is everything well?” she asked nervously.
“Your son is well, Fanny,” Lady Lucas assured her friend. “He is a little smaller than his slightly older sister, but other than that, I see nothing over which to be concerned.”
“A daughter and son,” Fanny said in wonder. “Oh my.Thomas?”
“Mrs Dudley is delivering the afterbirth. You will get cleaned up and changed as soon as she is complete, and we can have Thomas come join you to meet his new son and daughter,” Hattie promised her younger sister.
As much as she had dreamt about children of her own, it had not been so ordained. All Hattie could do was be the best aunt as possible to Fanny’s and Edward’s children. As her home was less than a mile from Longbourn, she could see the Bennet children whenever she desired. With Maddie and Edward living in London, she did not see her Gardiner nephews and niece nearly as much, but she loved them no less.
Bennet had heard the babe’s cries, a time with little noise other than muffled voices, and then the babe cried again. However, it was with less volume than before. He was concerned because normally this long after hearing the first squalling of his new daughter or son, he should have been summoned into the room already. His brothers-in-law and Sir William had been trying to keep him calm, efforts which only met with partial success.
