The next day, I received a letter from Harriet, which was fast, even with the excellent mail coach service. I imagined her gasping out loud at breakfast, her hand to her mouth, and Evan asking, ‘Is it bad news, my love?’ She would probably have exclaimed, ‘Fliss is going to have a baby!’ causing Evan’s mouth to drop open. She would then have scurried off to the parlour, leaving her breakfast half eaten to write back to me in a flurry of excitement. As expected, she was shocked, but effusive in her congratulations. One bit in particular made me shed a guilty tear.
I feel somewhat responsible, dearest, as I have secretly prayed for you to know the joy of motherhood, and despite all the odds, my prayers have been answered! I hope you do not hate me too much ...
Everyone, it seemed, was taking responsibility for the creation of this child, but Mr Hart!
PART TWO
Godmersham Park
Chapter 5
Kent, February 1800
The lengthy journey to Godmersham Park from Derbyshire was planned with military precision and deliberately timed for us to arrive under the cover of darkness.
However, I had thought that there might have been a small welcoming party to greet us—Elizabeth and Edward at least. Yet when I stepped from the carriage into the frigid, blustery night, there was no one and nothing to be seen. A chill wind whipped around my cheeks as I peered valiantly into the pitch blackness. All I could hear was the rustling and creaking of some nearby trees.
I turned to the coachman, who had collected us from Ospringe and who was at present helping a tired Lucinda down from the carriage. ‘Are we at Godmersham? Where is the house?’
‘Over yonder, madam,’ he replied vaguely. I strained my eyes but could not see any friendly lit windows within the veil of darkness.
‘Are we to walk there?’
‘Ah, no, ma’am. Mrs Austen has given me strict instructions to take you to the guest cottage. She said to tell you that she will be down in the morning to greet you. The cottage has been prepared and a fire lit. There is also some food. You should have everything you need for the night.’
As tired as I was, I grudgingly realised the sense of it. It was silly to think we would be welcomed with open arms and shown into the Austens’ grand house with its multitude of children and servants. No, Elizabeth was right to bundle us off out of sight. Even if we had arrived at midnight (which we had not—it was barely nine o’clock), a maid would have had to attend to us. Lucinda’s condition was instantly discernible—as was mine, even though it was fake.
I adjusted the mound of padding on the front of my gown and wondered how much Elizabeth had paid their coachman to keep his mouth shut or if she had threatened instant dismissal if he said anything.
The man himself had not indicated that he thought anything was strange by frowning or winking, so I gathered whatever he had been threatened with or offered had worked.
‘Very well,’ I said with as much dignity as I could muster.
He nodded and unhooked the carriage lantern and gave it to me to carry. Then he lifted our carpet bags, one in each hand, and nodded towards the path on the left.
Lucinda and I linked arms and waddled along with our bellies leading the way. To any outsider, we were a couple of expectant ladies staying at Godmersham Park for our confinement. But even if we were in the middle of the Kentish countryside and many miles from Derbyshire and York, it still looked suspicious and would no doubt arouse curiosity.
Max and I had had a devil of a job deciding what to do about our own servants. In the end, we had given the majority an extended paid holiday for a month after Christmas. Lucinda had arrived the day after they left. Then she and I had travelled to Kent the day before they came back. We kept on only our cook, housekeeper, and Bertram, the butler. We had made all of them swear on the Bible not to say anything (and Max had given them double their wages for the month to sweeten the incentive to stay quiet).
What else could we do but trust them?
After depositing us in the cottage and making sure the candles were lit, the coachman took his leave, and I shut and bolted the door against the icy north wind. Lucinda peeled off her shawl with a sigh and wandered over to warm her hands at the fire, which was burning low in the grate.
‘It seems comfortable,’ I ventured, looking around. As cottages went, it was not particularly small. We were standing in a sizeable parlour that was wood panelled andlaid with beige carpet. There were a couple of lounging settees and a small bookshelf. A fine watercolour of Godmersham itself hung on the wall, reminding us where we were not. Upon checking the other two doors that led off the parlour, I reported that they both contained nicely decorated and well-appointed bedrooms.
The cottage had the feel of a place that one could escape to when the demands of the main house became too pressing. Jane had commented in her letters once or twice of feeling exhausted when she had returned from visiting Godmersham, for Elizabeth and Edward had five children—four of them boys aged 6 and under. According to Jane, they were ‘liable to be rowdy’ while their daughter, Fanny, just turned 8, Jane deemed a ‘lively and talkative creature’. Reading between the lines, I had got the impression Jane was tasked with being the babysitter when she stayed here, so I felt somewhat glad that we were not going to be bothered similarly. Really, however, it was the perfect opportunity for me to gain some parenting skills since I had none. Oh well.
After consuming the food that had been laid out on the side table under a muslin cloth (some bread, cheese, pickles, and various conserves), there was nothing much else to do but for me to relax on the sofa while Lucinda flicked through some of the titles in the bookshelf. After a while,growing tired, we lit our candles, bid each other good night, and went to bed.
***
If our first night in Kent had passed without fanfare, then the next morning more than made up for it. I was roused from slumber at dawn by the most godawful bellow outside. Thinking that we were about to be set upon by ruffians, I ran to the parlour, grabbed the poker, and crept cautiously to the window. Gingerly moving the curtain aside, I gasped to see a huge brown stag complete with impressive spiky antlers standing there! It seemed remarkably close, with plumes of frosty breath drifting from its nostrils. I pulled the curtain back to see better. At the movement, the creature gave me a baleful stare, tossed its antlers, and pranced away across the fields, quickly followed by a number of doting does.
‘What on earth was that noise?’ mumbled Lucinda sleepily from the depths of her eiderdown when I went to see if she was awake. ‘Are we being besieged?’
‘It was a herd of deer, that’s all,’ I replied, sitting on the edge of her bed, my heart still going pitter-patter from the rude awakening. ‘The stag was right outside the window. He must have sensed people in the cottage and decided thatit was time for us to wake up.’
Lucinda giggled. ‘I think he woke up half the county with his racket.’
