A letter had arrived for her uncle while they were out. It signalled an end to all their engagements in Derbyshire, an end to their holiday, and an end to many more things besides.
My brother Gardiner,
I hope you are sitting down. Your children are all fine—be not alarmed on that score. I regret that your nieces are not all so easily accounted for. My youngest has lost what little reason she had remaining to her and eloped with one of Colonel Forster’s officers—Lieutenant Wickham. You met him at Christmas, I believe, and liked him as well as we did. Alas, we have been unhappily deceived in his character.
The pair left Brighton last Saturday and were traced as far as Clapham but no farther. They have certainly not gone to Scotland. I came to town on Monday and have been searching for them since, to no avail.
Jane has, I understand, written to Lizzy more than once, appealing for your swift return. I suspect, from the want of any reply, that her requests were too subtly made. Mine will not be. I implore you to come home. I need your knowledge of London; Jane needs Lizzy’s help at Longbourn; your sister needs a degree of patience that I suspect only your dear wife can provide; Lydia needs all our prayers. I fear she is lost, Brother. I am sick with guilt. I hope to see you in London very soon.
Yours &tc.,
T Bennet
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
OFFICIOUS INTERFERENCE
“Sugar?” Mrs Reynolds enquired. Mr Ferguson did not often take it with his tea, but he looked singularly fatigued that evening, and cold and wet to boot. He nodded, and she added two lumps. “Should you like something to eat?”
“I thank you no. Mrs Ferguson is expecting me for dinner. I shall get off as soon as the rain eases.”
“I take it the rain put paid to any significant progress on the dig,” said Mr Matthis.
Mr Ferguson nodded glumly. “An inauspicious first day.”
“Bit of rain would not usually see my lads falter,” Mr Howes grumbled. “But digging in this sort of weather is no fun for anyone.”
This many of the upper servants rarely gathered together. They were typically too busy, and their work hours and places too disparate for it. The rain had interfered with everyone’s plans; all outdoor work had been brought to an early, sodden halt, and dinner had been delayed until the guests recuperated from their drenching at the picnic. Unusually, therefore, Pemberley’s steward, butler, housekeeper, chef, head gardener, and the master’s manservant were all crowded into the upper servants’ hall at once. It felt smaller as a consequence, and Mr Ferguson and Mr Howes’s waterlogged clothes had added a vaporous, dank air to the space.
The dampness only worsened when the head gamekeeper entered, dripping wet and wringing his cap onto the flags.
Mr Ferguson greeted him with a nod. “Is there a problem?”
“We have caught ourselves a poacher. Well, more found than caught, I suppose, for he was injured and in no fit state to make a run for it.”
“Injured? Not in a trap, I hope.”
“No. Slipped and turned his ankle. I am not surprised, either, for there is a torrent coming down over the rocks on the north slope.”
Mr Howes frowned. “There is no watercourse on the north slope.”
“There is today. And now I’ve a soggy, lame scoundrel in my cabin, and I should like very much to know what to do with him.”
“Have you informed Mr Darcy?” the steward enquired.
“Mr Darcy was not in a humour to listen.”
Mrs Reynolds frowned. “Perhaps he was busy, Mr Sheldon. He has only just returned from a day out, and he has a large number of guests to attend to.”
“Then perhaps he ought to send them home, for this is not a good time to be distracted,” Mr Ferguson snapped, to everyone’s astonishment, for he rarely showed his temper. “Pray excuse me. Only he was in no humour to hear my report earlier, either, and I am used to him being more attentive to estate matters.”
“Mr Vaughan, is the master ill?” Chef enquired.
Mr Darcy’s manservant shook his head. “No, Monsieur, he is in perfect health.”
“Then what can be the matter with him?” he replied, directing the question to the whole room.
Mrs Reynolds said nothing. She would not have dignified such an enquiry with an answer in any case, but as it was, her lips were pressed firmly together in displeasure. She had a strong suspicion what was consuming the master’s attention. What a good thing thedistractionwould soon be gone.
