“I cannot say whether it is true, sir, so I perhaps should not have said anything. You know what village gossips are like.”
I left him and went to find Doreen, giving her an equal number of pence for gingerbreads and instructing her to take Penny with her when she went home on Sunday.
“Thank you, miss,” she said in surprise.
“The treacle will run out soon, so you should not wait to go. And, I expect you to be fed a good supper, and if you are not, I wish to know about it.”
She had no means to send word to me, but she would undoubtedly report this direct order to Mrs. Smith, and I left feeling I had done what I could.
Chapter Thirty-Two
With effort, I sat on the events of the day and affected the bland agreeability common to those who have been very sweetly vindicated.
I could not tell anyone of my validation, but the manner in which my uncle was shown what I had endured was so righteous and, at the same time, so ludicrous, I thought I might burst out laughing. If only I could tell Mr. Darcy, who knew what that house was—but I could not. Besides, he might not think Mrs. Edmonton as amusing as I did, and if he heard about the gruel, he would have bluntly advised me to send the cook packing. Only my father would have appreciated this story—and to such a degree that he would have had me tell it four or five different ways for his entertainment.
Oh, I do miss my family, I thought mournfully, but I wished I was not obliged to go just yet.
The following day broke fine, and though cold, the sunlight rendered everything crisp and clear. Frost crystals shone bright as diamonds, and the sky deepened into a shade of violet. I stared out in wonder at this scene, and when Georgiana came in, we commiserated on what a rare sight it was, settling on a mad idea to take Mrs. Jennings for an outing.
A footman produced a bath chair from somewhere, an army of maids brought out shawls and rugs, and in no time, we had Mrs. Jennings humming pleasantly in her nest of wool as we wheeled her down to the lake.
Mr. Darcy, hearing of our expedition, sent the kennel master with the small pup to go along—as though we did not have enough to do! I was told the master wished the dog to become used to accompanying ladies on walks, for he hoped to sell her to Lord Masterson for his eldest daughter’s entertainment.
There was nothing for it but tocarrythe thing since she had no sense to walk in a straight line and was at risk of being trampled by the footman who pushed Auntie’s chair. She seemed to think this her rightful place and looked about her with entitled interest, royally entertained and warmly wrapped in the tail end of my shawl. From time to time, she licked my chin encouragingly, causing me to murmur to her that I would not fall prey to such gross manipulation; but, in fact, I was fast becoming her devoted slave.
The air and the exercise went far to lessening my blighted feelings. Uncle Gardiner was closeted with Mr. Darcy that morning, likely hashing out what was to be done, and I took a large breath of cold air. I realized, no matter the verdict—which must include my return home—that nature would go far to reconciling me to my circumstances and repairing my disordered feelings. And though part of me entertained an image of myself once bright and charming but now dwindled into unremarkable spinsterhood, I dismissed this as an inherited tendency toward hysteria. I inwardly chuckled that I would next see myself living in a sod hut and subsisting on turnips!
Upon returning to the house, Miss Darcy was asked to seek out her brother. It fell to me to get Mrs. Jennings situated, and I could not have managed without the help of Pemberley’s plentiful and constantly willing servants. Auntie’s nose was cold, and she was sleepy and content to lie down after such a variation in her routine. I freshened up my coiffure, dabbed a little scent behind one ear, and went in search of my uncle.
He was not in a forthcoming mood, and I was too reluctant to know how quickly I must pack to press him. We had tea and a selection of cheeses and hothouse fruits while we talked of the weather and his children. I then subsided into needlework, and he into a periodical, until such time as Georgiana joined us.
Uncle Gardiner then made a show of thinking he had something better to read in his room and left us. Georgiana looked fit to burst with news, and this, coupled with my uncle’s strange manners, led me to suspect something was afoot.
I was not left to wonder long. In half an hour my uncle returned, and it was Georgiana’s turn to think of something she had to do elsewhere.
We were left alone, and in so pointed a fashion, I was justified in my exasperation. “Well, sir? What is it to be?”
“We have settled it that Mrs. Jennings will stay at Pemberley for now. It is Mr. Darcy’s opinion, and I cannot but agree, that to take her on an extended and uncomfortable journey would rid her of the will to live. At the very least, she might be made ill, and the prospect of managing her confusion, even with the help he would extend to us with maids and the like, has convinced me that you would be rendered exhausted and ill yourself.”
“Did he say so?” I asked in irritation. “I am notsofragile that I cannot—”
“I do not believe you are in a position to get on your high ropes about anything, miss,” he said tartly. “I do notlikeanything I have agreed to do, and I will thank you not to make me defend myself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I objected to the idea that he must take it upon himself to care for our relation, or that, God forbid, they feel constraint when wishing to leave for town and must linger for her sake. We settled it that I would employ the day maid—Ruth, I believe is her name—to be Mrs. Jennings’s principal support.”
“Oh, she is very kind to Auntie.”
“And Mrs. Reynolds is always here and will see that no neglect or failure of care renders her worse than she is. Her pension will fund her needs sufficiently. I do not believe it a permanent solution, but for now it must do.”
“And the house?” I hardly dared to ask, but I had a great deal of history with the place, almost a morbid fascination.
“Mr. Darcy has suggested—and again, I am forced to agree—that it would make a suitable boarding house.”
“A boarding house?” I cried in surprise.
“There is insufficient lodging in Lambton for the clerks and underlings who come and go with mining interests.”
