I nodded. ‘Quite. But I hope and pray they will not.’
‘So everyone is in agreement that Lucinda going to Godmersham is the best course of action if they approve it?’ enquired Mr Chadwick. We all nodded, Seraphina albeit reluctantly. ‘Very well. Mrs Fitzroy, if you will write to your friend Miss Austen, I shall begin drawing up the contract for the guardianship. And let us pray that her relations are willing to be involved. If they are not willing, then we must respect their wishes.’
‘I hope they feel some sympathy for Lucy’s predicament,’ Max muttered to me as we left the parlour. ‘Especially after they agreed that you could all go to Hartmoor, which, in turn, led to her seduction.’
I thought back to my conversation with Elizabeth in Bath after we had arrived back from the castle, the one where I told her that Mr Hart was not interested in Lucinda and that he had set his sights on me. I had sworn her to secrecy, but she would no doubt be confused as to how and why Lucinda had become pregnant if Mr Hart was not interested. Hopefully, she did not start asking awkward questions or send correspondence to Max enquiring further. My palms began sweating. But there was nothing for it. I had been compelled to speak up to support Lucinda, and there was no taking it back now. Godmersham was the only safe port in the storm, and everyone was pinning their hopes on it!
***
The atmosphere in the house as we waited for Jane’s reply was tense, to say the least! Lucy was extremely quiet, Max was walking around with a stony expression, and Seraphina was snapping like a turtle at everyone. However, as I knew it would only make it worse, I bit my tongue and commended myself on doing so—even when she complained about the quality of the meat at dinner and the sheets on her bed being as rough as hessian sacks.
Thanks to the fast mail coach service between Steventon and Derbyshire, it usually took two days for a letter to arrive from Jane once I had sent a reply. But as I reminded everyone, Jane had to write to Elizabeth and then wait for a reply from her before she could send one to me. And I had told her time was of the essence, so all we could do was wait and pray that the mail coaches travelling backwards and forwards between our counties did not break down.
Still, the days dragged into the next week, and there had not been any sign of a letter. And tempers (one in particular) were starting to fray even further. Finally, on Thursday after luncheon, Seraphina said she couldn’t bear being in the house any longer and that she and Lucinda would go into town and do some shopping. Shortly after they had left, Max went out for a ride to escape as well.
So I was alone in the parlour when Bertram handed me the longed-for letter from Jane. I clutched it tightly to my bosom, thanking God.
‘Is this letter all right to receive, Mrs Fitzroy?’ Bertram whispered surreptitiously, and I nodded emphatically.
‘Yes, please do not burn these letters on any account. Only the other kind.’ That was the last thing I needed. ‘Out of curiosity, have you had to burn many of the other kind? The ones with my name in capitals?’
He shook his head. ‘No, madam, not a one.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, if you would remain vigilant on that account, thank you, Bertram.’
He nodded and left me. It felt slightly foolish to impress such a strong precaution upon him, especially when there had been no further letters from Mr Hart. But something in me still deemed it necessary.
Jane’s letter was thicker than usual, and I held it up to the light, attempting to discern what was in it. Did thicker than normal mean good news? Or was it pages and pages of commiseration?
I was too afraid to open the letter and peruse it.
Instead, I set it on the mantelpiece and waited for everyone to return and occupied myself with some embroidery.
However, the letter taunted me unbearably with its unknown contents. I tried hiding it behind a cushion on thesofa instead, but it was no use. I had to know what Jane had said and how the following months were going to play out for better or worse. And if it was bad news, I could prepare myself for Seraphina’s triumphant castigation when she returned from her shopping trip.
However, when I opened it, I discovered it was actually two letters: one from Jane and one addressed to her from Elizabeth that she had enclosed.
I read Elizabeth’s first as I knew that was the one upon which our plan was hanging. The letter itself was quite long, and the majority of it was news about her children. But all I needed was the part at the end.
Jane, I am shocked to hear about you-know-what!!! Please write immediately to Felicity and tell her that of course she and Lucy must come to Godmersham. We will hear of no other alternative. Oh my dear, how absolutely ghastly that Lucy is now having to bear the consequences of that man’s seduction, and he seemed so nice at first! I feel partly to blame because it was my shoulder he bumped into, and if only I had not encouraged him to call ...
She went on in this vein for at least a page, holdingherself responsible and offering to help preserve Lucy’s virtue in any way she could. I felt sorry that she was so very upset by it all. But Max had been right—she did feel strong sympathy for Lucy’s predicament, and even though it was founded in a large dose of self-guilt, she was rolling out the welcome carpet for us to stay at Godmersham. It meant that Lucy did not have to go to the nunnery and we would be provided with a safe haven for her confinement.
As my nerves had been strung out for over a week, not knowing what the outcome would be and with everything riding on Elizabeth saying yes, now that she had done so unequivocally, the release of tension was palpable. I sat down heavily on the sofa and could not help but burst into a flood of tears, yet those I had to quickly stem in case a servant was walking past. Deeming it wiser to go for a walk so I could give vent to whatever emotions arose, I tucked the letters into my pocket and headed out of doors. The fresh air on my hot, damp cheeks was a soothing balm; and the grounds, bathed in the golden glow of mid-afternoon sun, had never looked lovelier. There was something about getting good news that made the scenery seem twice as bright, and the lake with its splashing fountain was almost iridescent.
After a short stroll and once I had read Jane’s letter, which praised Elizabeth’s decision (she had enclosed it with her own to show her sister-in-law’s exact words so we could feel at ease), I wasfeeling much more composed.
I was in the garden, sitting on a sun-warmed bench and watching a couple of finches frolic in the birdbath, when Max strode over.
‘There you are! I have been looking—’
He stopped, eyes widening, as I pulled the letters from my pocket and brandished them at him.
‘Oh! What did she say?’ Tears started welling before I could stop them, and his face fell. ‘I see ... It is bad news.’
I shook my head and quelled a laugh, which turned into a hiccup. ‘N-no, it is good! Elizabeth wants us to stay! I am just being emotional as it is the outcome we wanted.’
Max’s expression switched from worried to relieved. ‘So she really has agreed to it?’
