“What was it which you believe killed her?” Bennet enquired.
“It is pure, undiluted meadowsweet.” Jones explained what the herb’s effect on the blood was.
“Will the herb harm my new daughter?” Bennet questioned.
“My suspicion is that it could, but the truth is that we men of science do not know much about what affects a babe while growing in its mother’s belly. That being said, even if it does, so long as your new daughter does not bleed for the next fortnight or so, in my opinion, she will be well,” Jones explained.
“There was no question that my late wife was of mean understanding, but to believe that drinking some potion would guarantee a son, is beyond my comprehension.” Bennet shook his head.
“My suggestion is that you have the body interred as soon as may be. With the heat of the season…” Jones trailed off.
“The same day that Gardiner arrives, she will be laid to rest,” Bennet responded. “Jones, I think you and Mrs Sherman should return to your homes. I assume you will deliver a certificate of death on the morrow?”
“You mean later today. Indeed, I will,” Jones replied.
The two collected all the instruments of their trades and left the birthing chamber. Bennet was now alone with the earthly remains of his late wife.
“I know not if you and your late mother have been admitted into heaven. No matter the bad feelings I had for you and your mother, I forgive you for what you did. In doing so, it is more for me than you, but it is what I have to do,” Bennet told the corpse lying on the bed. Now that the blood had been cleaned up, other than looking rather pallid, the body looked almost like it was at peace.
No decision about mourning would be taken until Gardiner arrived from London. With the door open, he heard a soft noise from the hall. When he exited the birthing chamber, Hattie was seated in a chair along the wall.
“As her older sister, it falls to me to sit with Fanny’s remains,” Hattie stated as she stood. “Thomas, have you a name for your newest daughter yet?”
“I had not thought about the subject. Do you have a suggestion?”
“My late maternal grandmother was Lydia. Would you object if she is named for Grandmama Lydia?”
Even though he knew Lydia had been part of the late Jane Gardiner’s name, he decided it would be petty to refuse that name because of that fact. “No, that is a good name. Her second name will be for you. She will be known as Lydia Hattie,” Bennet allowed. “I hope that you will continue to be close to my daughters. They will need your love.”
“As long as you allow me to be part of their lives, I will be,” Hattie returned. “It will be my absolute honour to love all of my nieces.” With a smile that she would not be cut off from her nieces, she entered the chamber and pushed the doorclosed softly.
As Bennet hoped he would, Jim had already brought Mrs Greenly and her son to the manor house. Her husband had accompanied them to ensure his wife was situated as she should be.
“Greenly, Mrs Greenly, I thank you for being willing to help me until I am able to employ a wetnurse.” Bennet saw Mrs Hill standing off to one side. “Mrs Hill, will you show Mrs Greenly and her son to the room near the nursery where Lydia is…” He did not miss the questioning look on the housekeeper’s brow. “Her name is Lydia Hattie. As I was saying, I am sure Lydia is past ready for sustenance.” He waited until Mrs Hill, now holding the Greenley babe, had led Mrs Greenly up the stairs. “Greenly, you are welcome to visit your wife here whenever the household is awake. It is my hope that I will have a wetnurse as soon as I am able. If I am successful, your wife will be home in a matter of days.”
“I thank ye, Master. Me wife an’ me be ‘appy ta ‘elp ye,” Greenly replied with a bow. Happy his wife was well; he made his way out to the stables where his horse was waiting for him.
As soon as the tenant left, Bennet returned to his study where Phillips was nursing a glass of port. Without a word, Bennet sat at his desk and pulled a sheet of paper to himself. His letter to Gardiner was short and sweet. As he had predicted, he could see the sky lightening in the east when he looked out of the floor to ceiling windows opposite his desk. Once he was satisfied with his missive, Bennet allowed it to dry and then he sealed it. He rang for Hill. “Have a groom deliver this to 23 Gracechurch Street in London as soon as may be,” he instructed when he handed the epistle to his butler.
Mr Hill bowed and left the study to execute the master’s orders.
“Mourning?” Phillips asked once the door had beenpulled closed behind the departing retainer.
“Decisions will be made once Gardiner is here,” Bennet revealed.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Gardiner was seated in his dining parlour breaking his fast before eight in the morning as was his wont. As had been the case the last months, his mind was not on work, but rather the lady to whom he had lost his heart. Her name was Madeline Lambert; she was eighteen years old.
Until she was sixteen, she had lived in the town of Lambton in Derbyshire with her father who had owned a bookstore in the town. When her father had passed away, and being that there were no other siblings, the concern had been sold along with Mr Lambert’s cottage. The money for both had been added to her dowry when Maddie, as she preferred to be called, had come to live with her cousins. By a stroke of fate, the cousins’ home was on the same street and some four doors down from Gardiner’s house.
The first time he met her; she had been in half-mourning. He had been invited to the Huntingtons’ house for dinner and had felt a pull to the intelligent, kind lady almost from the time they had met. Gardiner had waited until she was out of mourning for three months before he began to call on her. Two months ago, he had requested a courtship from Miss Lambert and had been accepted. This very morning, he intended to request her hand in marriage. Gardiner was very much in love with Maddie, as he called her now, and was close to certain she returned the sentiment in full measure. Had he not been aware that the Huntingtons were waiting for their house to be sold before leaving England for the Canadas, Gardiner may have waited longer to propose. However, he wanted to make sure he secured Maddie before her guardians left the country.
His thoughts of the lady he loved were interrupted when the housekeeper entered the room. “Mrs Jacobson?” Gardiner queried.
“Master, this letter just arrived, brought by a groom from Longbourn,” the housekeeper responded. She offered the master the missive the young man had handed her. “He said it is urgent.”
With his attention on the epistle from Bennet, Gardiner waved Mrs Jacobson away. He broke his brother-in-law’s seal and read.
