Warm water and a fresh gown went some way to reviving her, and she managed to take her place at table, assuring her little family that it was only a passing indisposition. She could not bring herself, as yet, to inform them of the letter—tomorrow, perhaps, when she had forced herself to understand it. She managed to eat enough to satisfy the most affectionate scrutiny and then, pleading a continuing headache, retired for the night. She knew she would not sleep. It was time to think. She had often been called intelligent, perceptive, and even clever; now was the time to apply all the gifts of intellect the Almighty had bestowed.
The letter was still on the floor of her bedroom where it had dropped from her despairing grasp while she slept. Carefully, she smoothed out the creases and carried it over to her dressing table where candles burned in extravagant profusion. The handwriting caused a dreadful pang, but she thrust that aside to consider the matter contained in the letter.
As she read, she felt the first stirrings of something that felt very much like anger. There was so much about it that was puzzling, especially when set against the conversational and affectionate warmth of his previous letters. After several readings, she dismissed the first two paragraphs as mere civilities, the bare minimum possible in a gentleman’s correspondence, although she made a note to pass on to Longbourn the comment about her father.
The appointment to HMSVanguardin the next paragraph had not appeared in theNaval Chroniclewhich she had received only the previous day; however, it would appear there in due course so that, quite apart from the difficulty she had in seeing him as a bald-faced liar, the statement was subject to corroboration and therefore had to be accepted as true.
The meat of the difficulty lay in the next two paragraphs. What on earth did he mean by ‘Your recent letters have demonstrated that a lady of your ability will never lack for admirers’? The only gentlemen she had mentioned had been her uncle Gardiner, the earl, and Mr Lester, who were married, and the colonel. Surely to heaven, he was not suggesting some sort of attachment had grown between them? She had laid her heart on every page of her last few letters, letters she knew he had received since he mentioned the restoration of Pemberley. What sort of woman did he think she was?
She got up so she could pace about the room, for she could feel the anger now, hot and unmistakable. And the rest of it, the subtle suggestion that she had taken too much upon herself,the mention of money that came perilously close to payment for services rendered. How dare he! What sort of man was he? It was impossible that the gentle loving man who had written the previous letters should have written this…this…dismissal.
And then she had it, and the relief cut her legs from under her so that she sat down on the floor in a heap. Yes, itwasimpossible. It was unmistakeably his hand, his way of writing a single ‘s’ where two were needed and then squeezing the extra one in, his hand, his words, and yet nothim, not the true, the inner Fitzwilliam Darcy. Something else was at work here—something she did not as yet understand but most certainly would before very long. It was long past eleven o’clock, but she took a candlestick, went down to the library, and searched out the lastNaval Chronicle. There had been much discussion of the new design of theVanguardand yes, there it was: a note that the ship was currently in the hands of the riggers and caulkers and was expected to be provisioned and ready for sea at Portsmouth by the end of the month.
She took her candle and returned to her bed, apologising in passing to a bleary-eyed Haslam who had come to see who was moving about the house. Tomorrow she would send him—no, tomorrow she would send one of the grooms on horseback to all her neighbours to beg copies of every newspaper they had, and she would write to Uncle Gardiner. He had correspondents in the merchant service; perhaps he could help, for she was certain it was something that had happened at sea. She knew herself to be far from perfect but could think of nothing she had done that could possibly have called forth such a dreadful letter.
Something had happened between her husband leaving Malta on his mission and his writing from Gibraltar. She had three weeks to find out what it was, and then she would act.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next day, Pemberley was a hive of activity. Grooms rode out to beg, borrow, or steal newspapers, the family chaise was disinterred from the stable where it had rested for the last ten years, and an express was sent to Mr Gardiner in Gracechurch Street. To Georgiana and her mother, she said only that her husband would be in England for but a brief time, and that she would dearly love to spend that time alone with him. Georgiana, although disappointed, was neither so ungrateful nor so insensible that she did not understand the request, and she settled down to writing a monstrous great letter and to drawing as much of the restored Pemberley as she could manage in the time allowed.
Elizabeth pored over the newspapers and the back issues of theNaval Chronicleand gathered little. TheVanguardwas described at length and the name of her future captain speculated upon for, in the words of one of theChronicle’s correspondents,
…a more ‘plum’ posting it would be hard to conceive, and the man who finds himself posted to this magnificent shipwill surely be distinguished either for his parts or for potent interests on shore, pressing for his promotion.
Although her mind was much oppressed with speculation and anxiety, Elizabeth did not neglect the business of the house and estate. A conference with Mr Lester and another with Mrs Reynolds ensured that all would proceed smoothly, with particular care being taken to celebrate Georgiana’s sixteenth birthday. She wrote to Lord Matlock, reminding him of this happy event in the hopes that he would ride over and perhaps invite the two ladies to visit his home, Alfreton Park. Anderssen and Haslam were to stay at Pemberley to guard Georgiana if necessary, and Elizabeth would travel through Hatfield and take up Puttnam to act as guide. It would be cruel indeed to expose the able-bodied seamen to the dangers of the Press.
Although it felt like hubris of the worst sort, she did not neglect herself. She had already ordered from the dressmaker in Lambton the most becoming of travelling clothes and gowns for wearing in the day. Half in shame and half in bravado, she had also ordered a nightgown of such translucent daring that she was by no means sure she would ever venture to wear it. The promise of an additional generous fee ensured that the remainder of the items would be supplied as soon as possible. She had originally ordered the clothes for his longed-for return home, to look as beautiful as she might. Now, as Maria alternately packed and pleaded to be allowed to accompany the party, Elizabeth tried not to imagine a journey home, when all this finery was revealed for the desperate throw she suspected it might prove to be.
Mr Gardiner’s reply when it came was not such as to aid in calming her spirits. It arrived the day before she had determined she must leave for Portsmouth and enclosed a copy of the latest edition ofThe Times.
He wrote,
I have been unable to discover much more than is written in these pages. There are rumours of great changes at the department of the Admiralty in charge of intelligence, consequent upon some as yet announced failure on its part. Please write as soon as you can. In the meantime, your aunt and I and the children will keep you both in our prayers.
She tore the newspaper open, her eyes darting about its pages. She was so flurried that it took her several minutes to find the report headedNaval Engagement in the Mediterranean.
We are informed that an engagement took place at sea off the island of— between His Majesty’s Ship Achilles and the French national ship of war La Gloire, accompanied by a number of lesser vessels from states allied to the French.
To Elizabeth’s shocked gaze, the list of additional ships seemed horribly long.
TheAchilleswas present to meet with parties thought eager to shake off the yoke of Corsican tyranny; however, we regret to say that, due to a culpable laxity in the arrangements, from which we do not hesitate to acquit the ship and its gallant officers and men, the appointment was widely known and much canvassed in Malta and doubtless other parts where British naval business is conducted.
We understand that Captain Darcy of theAchillesbrought this to the attention of the naval authorities in those parts, but there was present no superior officer with the courage to overrule orders from London, and the ship was forced to sailfor a meeting which many aboard must have suspected would prove not only fruitless but dangerous.
The result is easy to foresee. The appointment was a trap, and it is only the bravery and seamanship of those aboard which brought the ship away, although the expense in men and materiel is impossible to exaggerate. There are reported killed fifty-two, including Mr T Pascoe - First Lieutenant, Mr M Hannaside - Second Lieutenant …
The column of names reached the bottom of the page and included names familiar to Elizabeth from her husband’s letters. She could only guess at the anguish such losses would cause to the men who had been their shipmates.
…Many dying in the days after the battle from their wounds. Also wounded, thirty-six. This from a ship’s complement of only two hundred and eighty-four.
No greater tribute to the fallen can be given than to report thatLa Gloirewas forced to flee and that two smaller vessels [their names and details were given at length] were taken prizes. We understand that the Achilles will require substantial repair and Captain F Darcy will transfer to the new shipHMS Vanguard.
Although no man who serves his country in time of war expects that service to be always safe or easy, it is to be hoped that the gallant men of the Achilles will not again face more danger at the hands of their friends than they do at those of their enemies.
This was worse, much worse than Elizabeth had feared, and she was at once wild to be off. Hiding the report from Georgiana was imperative, and any longer delay would only increase the chance that she would miss her husband altogether.
Within the hour, the coach was ordered round, trunks and bags packed aboard, and a rider dispatched to order horses prepared at their first stopping place. Mr Lester produced a considerable sum of money for the journey, and all was prepared. Her last sight of Pemberley was of Georgiana standing forlornly on the front steps, waving her handkerchief and attempting, with indifferent success, not to cry.
