She left the room, suddenly feeling unequal to walking through the rest of the silent house. Oh, how she wished to hear Elizabeth’s excited cry or Harry’s happy chatter.Where is my granddaughter?she wondered. The pain in her chest grew, and she drew a steadying breath.
Mr. Bingley awaited her in the study. “I know it may seem too soon, your ladyship, but I have found Henry’s will. He left everything to his son but indicated that his daughter would inherit if Harry…” he trailed off. “What is to be done?”
“Elizabeth is not dead.” She spoke firmly, a resolve settling over her.Maude pushed the fear and sadness away.I must be strong—for Elizabeth.
“But where is she?” Mr. Bingley raised his hands helplessly.
“Wherever she is, I shall find her. She is my grandchild. For now, gather any pertinent information regarding the disposition of my son’s assets. Everything will be placed in trust for Elizabeth.” She would use her connections to see that her granddaughter’s inheritance was secured.
“What of the business? Will you sell Henry’s shares?”
Lady Montrose paused, considering. “No, I think not. I shall arrange for a portion of the interest to be redistributed for the company’s needs. Despite my lofty marriage, I admired my son for seeking his own fortune. Others of my station scorned him, but I felt only pride. I would hate to see his efforts go to waste.”
“We can arrange quarterly expense reports if it suits you.” Mr. Bingley nodded solemnly. “I had great respect for Henry, madam. He made me a partner based on nothing more than a few sound business decisions. I have not taken his belief in my abilities for granted.”
“Then it is settled. I shall remain in the North long enough to see my family transported to my home and to begin the search for Elizabeth. Jameson!” Her faithful servant came from the hallway. “You are to remain here until everything is resolved. I shall go back to Marston Hall and see…see to everything…” She choked on a sob. “Then we will go to town.”
“Very good, madam.” Jameson bowed. His usually expressionless face was creased with sorrow.
In just a few hours, she had arranged wagons to carry her loved ones home to Nottinghamshire. Lady Montrose followed in her own carriage, lost in sorrow. The tears, once they started, did not cease.Where is Elizabeth?She pondered the situation during the entire ride, determined to send letters to the Bow Street Runners as soon as she reached Marston Hall.
Chapter Three
Hertfordshire, 1799
Mrs. Bennet
“Andhereisthenursery, madam.” Mrs. Smith, Longbourn’s soon-to-be retired housekeeper, pushed open the door and stepped aside. “We have had it refreshed and aired—new mattresses on the beds and the like.”
Mrs. Bennet stepped into the room and nodded in satisfaction. Her dark mourning dress contrasted starkly against the bright colors in the room. The large window illuminated the space with natural light. Standing before the glass, one could see trees and flowers. There were six little beds lining one wall, and a chest filled with toys on another. A door led to chambers occupied by the nurse and governess.
The younger children, who had accompanied the matron upstairs, squealed in delight and poured into the room. The three eldest entered more sedately.My children will be well looked after,she thought,including Lizzy.
Mrs. Bennet paused as she watched the girl looking curiously around the nursery.Oh, Elizabeth. Mr. Bennet’s inquiries had yielded nothing. He searched Derbyshire for news, but no carriage accidents had been reported. Indeed, no one searched for any missing children.
“I fear something nefarious befell her family,” her husband told her in a hushed voice one evening as they sat before the fire in their Lambton chambers. He fingered the black armband he wore, his expression clouded with concern.
“We cannot send her away,” Mrs. Bennet protested.
“I do not intend to do anything of the sort. You told me when we found her we would not consign her to an orphanage. Besides, the children have taken to her. Jane especially.” Her husband pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “We are to depart for Longbourn tomorrow. The neighbors there will not know any different.”
“She does not look like any of the other children,” she reminded him. And indeed, she did not. The girls all had fair hair of varying shades of blond. Little Thomas had brown hair, but it was soft and warm in tone—more like chocolate. Elizabeth’s curls, by contrast, were a deep brown with hints of red.
“We shall say she favors your grandmother. No one has met the lady, other than you.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded. “Very good. I have secured her possessions in a small box.” They discussed the strange piece of jewelry the girl had been clutching when she was discovered on the road, wondering whether it might have belonged to her family. The front bore a crest, though it was unfamiliar to both Mr. or Mrs. Bennet. Inquiries into its origins and locating a copy of Debrett's would have to wait until they settled in at Longbourn.
Coming back to herself, she addressed the nursery maid. “We shall hire a governess as soon as an acceptable candidate can be found. For now, do not hesitate to bring me any of your concerns.”
She and Mrs. Smith left the room and went downstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Hill were waiting in the housekeeper’s office, and they made their way there.
“I shall leave Mrs. Hill with everything she requires before I go to my daughter,” Mrs. Smith told Mrs. Bennet. “My records are in good order, so I expect the transition will be smooth.”
“Then I shall leave you to it.” Mrs. Bennet went to her husband’s study and found him poring over the estate books.
“Are the children settled?” he asked without looking up.
“They are.” She came around the desk and put her hands on her husband’s shoulders. He leaned back, relaxing in the chair as she rubbed the soreness away. “Tommy has found your old toy soldiers and is lining them up along the windowsill. He is launching pillows at them in a mock battle.”
