A Woman of Influence (10 page)

However, in order to set her sister's mind at rest, as she undertook her melancholy journey to Derbyshire, Catherine promised to do her best to ensure that all would be well in her absence.

Arriving in Derbyshire, Becky Tate went directly to the Tate family home at Matlock, where she confidently expected that she would be made welcome by her son Walter and his wife, Pauline. She had sent a message by electric telegraph to Walter advising him of her travel plans and had been somewhat put out when no one met them at the railway station. However, she put that down to his being a very busy man, now he was running his father's business.

To her surprise, on arrival at the house in a hired vehicle, she found no arrangements had been made; the new housekeeper, Mrs Stoker, advised that Mr and Mrs Tate were away at the coastal resort of Scarborough and were not expected back until the end of the month.

Astonished, Becky enquired who was running the business and the household in their absence.

"Mrs Tate's brother Mr Hartley Pratt is managing the business, ma'am," the woman replied, explaining that he had been appointed recently to the position. "And I am in charge here," she added, in a voice that suggested she resented being asked at all.

Becky knew better than to pursue the matter of Hartley Pratt, whom she remembered as a self-important young man with little talent, few achievements, and no style at all. How he had come to be appointed to manage the business was beyond her understanding. Clearly Walter's wife must wield a high degree of influence, Becky thought.

The revelation served only to increase her unease, but this being neither the time nor the occasion to comment upon such matters, she explained she was there for Dr Courtney's funeral and requested politely that the rooms she had occupied before the death of her husband should be made ready for her use over the next fortnight.

Whereupon Mrs Stoker informed her, with a degree of hauteur, that the rooms in that part of the house were no longer available to be used, since Mrs Walter Tate had decided to have them redecorated and refurbished for special guests.

Becky's patience was at an end.

Ignoring the housekeeper's shocked expression, she asked Nelly to take her bags up to the room and said quietly but firmly, "My dear woman, this happens to be the house in which Mr Tate and I lived for nigh on thirty years. My son lives here now under the terms of my husband's will, and by agreement with me.

"I am here to attend the funeral of Reverend Courtney, and I do not care if the rooms are to be refurbished for royalty; if they are vacant now, I am asking you to open them up and have them aired and readied for my use within the hour. I shall leave my things in the charge of my maid, Nelly, while I travel to Lambton to call on Mrs Courtney. When I return, I expect to see all the appropriate arrangements in place, including a room for my maid, and please do not pretend that you must have my daughter-in-law's permission to accommodate me in what was my home for thirty years."

So saying, Becky swept out of the house and down the steps into the waiting vehicle that was to take her to Lambton, confident that everything would be as she had asked, but unhappy at having had to ask at all.

Arriving at Oakleigh, she found that several members of the family had gathered to support Emily Courtney.

Her brother Richard and his wife, Cassandra, greeted Becky and escorted her into the parlour, where Emily, her eyes red and her face pale with weariness, embraced her friend with warmth and gratitude.

"It is so good of you to come all this way, Becky; it is such a long journey," she said, and Becky hushed her at once.

"My dear Emily, did you think for one moment that I would not come?"

Their close friendship had meant a lot to Becky, but Emily had never presumed upon it. Her generous heart asked for very little in return for all she gave in affection and concern to anyone, family or friend.

Throughout the years when Becky had been
persona non grata
with Mrs Darcy and many in her family, Emily had persisted with their friendship, knowing full well that Elizabeth disapproved of it.

Later, they would sit together and speak of the difficult days and hours before her husband's death, and Becky would marvel at the calmness of this remarkable woman, who in one lifetime had loved and lost not one but two fine men, yet bore no signs of bitterness or self-pity.

The loss of Emily's first husband had left her deeply saddened, but with a determination to immerse herself in such a volume of work as to leave her little time for grieving.

Paul Antoine had been the love of Emily's young life; she had married him in the full knowledge that he was dying of tuberculosis, confounding her family and friends. She had travelled with him to Italy and nursed him devotedly until his death, following which she had spent much of her time supporting and comforting her cousin Mrs Darcy after the recent loss of her son William.

A young girl at the time, Becky had admired Emily's courage and singleminded devotion. Her mother, Charlotte Collins, had upheld Emily as an example of everything a woman could and should be, making Becky feel wholly inadequate. Yet as she grew older and confronted the vicissitudes of life herself, Becky had learned to value Emily's strength, and the two had become close friends.

Now, years later, here she was, once again bereft yet unembittered.

"I do not question God's will, Becky, but after all these years of shared dedication, I must admit to a terrible loneliness," she had said, and Becky had tried unsuccessfully to hide her tears, as Emily recalled her husband.

A modest, though distinguished, theologian, a scholar of repute and a hardworking parish priest, James Courtney had been loved most of all for his great compassion. He had worked all his days to help the poor, and Emily had supported him without question in all his endeavours.

"His sincerity and love for those who needed his help was an inspiration, which I shall miss most profoundly," she had said, "yet I must accept that my present sorrow, however dismal, would have been ten times greater had I been compelled to witness his painful lingering death. We have all been spared that anguish at least."

Becky could not help but recall her own dull response to the death of Mr Tate, whose every action had been motivated by his search for power or profit. She remembered feeling only a sense of resentful numbness on learning the news. Emily's honesty had left her feeling mortified.

Writing to her sister, Becky gave expression to her admiration of Emily as well as her frustration at the conduct of some of the Courtneys' children.

...she wrote, leaving Catherine in no doubt of her opinion of her daughterin-law and her household arrangements.

Catherine had been aware that Walter Tate's marriage to Miss Pauline Pratt, the daughter of a wealthy manufacturer in the Midlands, had not met with his mother's approval, but she had not supposed it to be as bad as this.

"Poor Becky," she said, relating her sister's complaints to her husband, "it must be dreadful to return to her own house and find herself so unwelcome. How very fortunate we are to have this place, thanks to the generosity of Mr Darcy."

Frank Burnett could not but agree with his wife; however, he felt constrained to add, "But chiefly on account of your valuable work with the school, my dear, there is less obligation on your part than on your sisters; even though she may have some familial claim at Matlock, it
is
now legally her son's house."

Catherine had to accept the logic of his argument but felt her sister's grievance keenly. "I would have thought that Walter Tate would have ensured his mother would not have to endure such humiliation, don't you? What has become of the respect, if not the affection, that children gave their parents? From Becky's account of the manner in which Emily's elder children have behaved, it seems that they have neither warmth of feeling nor a sense of family obligation; self-interest appears to be their only motivation."

Seeing she was clearly disturbed by these revelations, Mr Burnett sought to comfort her by reminding her that she could have no such concern about her daughter Lilian.

"Indeed no, Lilian is a great consolation to me. Forgive me, Frank, if I seem unduly distressed, but it grieves me to hear of such matters. We grew up in a very different world," she said with a sigh.

An invitation to spend a few days at Pemberley after the funeral brought Becky some welcome relief from Mrs Stoker's abstemious regime and afforded her another opportunity to enjoy her restored relationship with Mrs Darcy. Elizabeth, who for many years had held Becky Tate responsible for the illadvised marriage of her daughter Josie to Julian Darcy, had begun to soften her attitude to Becky, chiefly influenced by her daughter-in-law, Jessica, whose sweetness of disposition could not accept the continuance of such a feud. There was also the fact that Becky was, after all, the daughter of Elizabeth's dearest and oldest friend, Charlotte Lucas.

They were meeting again for the first time since Charlotte's death, and Elizabeth was particular to treat Becky with a degree of gentleness and courtesy that took her quite by surprise. She had expected politeness at Pemberley, but found both Mr and Mrs Darcy as well as Jessica and Julian treating her with so much consideration and genuine warmth that she was astonished, albeit in the pleasantest way.

It was not difficult for Becky to understand the real reason behind Elizabeth's change of heart.