Mr. Darcy's Daughter (38 page)

"They
know you have Mr. Darcy's authority, ma'am. Besides, they hold you in high
esteem and will accept, without quibbling, a determination from you."

Cassy
wanted to believe him, in spite of herself. She was tired, it had been a long
day, but she forced herself to go with him and meet the complaining tenants and
the accused poacher. Cassy did as she was sure her father would have done. With
the poacher, she discovered that the man had lost his job in Birmingham and
returned home almost empty handed. His wife pleaded, "It was only to feed
the children, ma'am, no more. He would not take game off the master's land to
sell, I would never allow it. I'd sooner starve."

Her
transparent honesty, no less than her desperate situation, affected Cassy
deeply. "There's no need for that; you need not starve, when there is so
much food to be had. But neither must your husband break the law," she
said, and promised the woman her husband would not be brought before the
magistrate, on this occasion. "However, you must give me your word that,
in the future, if you are in need of food and have none you can legally obtain,
you will ask Mr. Grantham here for permission to take some, or go up to the
house and ask Mrs. Grantham for help. You will never be turned away."

The
woman was grateful and gave her word.

Turning
to Mr. Grantham, she said, "Mr. Grantham, there is no need to report this
matter; you may grant permission for them to take fish or game for food if they
have none. My father would not want them to starve, but, neither must they
steal or we shall have everyone doing it," she said, quite firmly, and
seeing the tears in the woman's eyes, Cassy felt more shaken than she had
expected to be.

She
was glad she had acted as she had done. Her father would not have been pleased
to see these poor people punished for what seemed such a trivial offence. There
were too many harrowing tales of men out of work being transported for poaching
to feed their families.

As
for the warring tenants, the fact they had been settled in adjoining cottages
and seemed to encroach upon each other's unfenced strips of land provided a
clue to the problem. They were always in each other's way, their children and
animals forever underfoot, a constant source of aggravation. The strip of land
in contention was so small, it seemed hardly worth the trouble, but it was all
they had and something had to be done to resolve the matter, or there would be
no peace.

"Mr.
Grantham, is there no other piece of land upon which one of these men might
work? I believe the solution is to keep them away from one another; if we could
provide one with an allotment elsewhere, may it not help?" she asked.

When
Grantham, having considered the matter, suggested a possible alternative strip
of land nearby, Cassy decided she had the answer to their problem.

To
avoid setting one against the other, she visited both families and, having
explained what was intended, said, "I think we have found a solution that
will help you both. Mr. Grantham will arrange to make it available to you, but
I must have an end to this constant bickering; it is bad for your families and
destroys the reputation of my father's estate. I want your word that it will
stop." Both men, though not entirely satisfied, accepted her plan. It may
not have provided a permanent resolution, but it would at least stop them
quarrelling.

Thereafter
Mr. Grantham drove her home. He was very impressed with the manner in which she
had handled the problems, which though slight, could have become an irritation
for the master in the future. As they drove through the fading half-light of
the evening, Cassy thought she saw a young woman, accompanied by a man,
trudging along the path that wound down from the main road towards the woods.

She
could not make out the man at all, but the girl was Margaret Baines.

Oh
dear, she thought, that looks like Margaret Baines with some admirer from the
village. I hope Grantham does not gossip about it, because if he does, everyone
else will know and Margaret will be in trouble.

Wisely,
she said nothing at all to Mr. Grantham.

When
she reached home, darkness had fallen and Dr Gardiner had already returned.
Cassy, exhausted after her long day, was eager to bathe and change her clothes.
Lizzie, meeting her on the stairs, stopped to tell her she looked very tired
and Cassy remarked wearily that she probably smelled of the farmyard, too. It
had been a long, hard day.

When
she came downstairs later, to find that Mr. Carr was not dining with them that
night, Cassy decided that it was a good opportunity to relax and forget the
day's labours. Sufficient unto the day...she thought as she lay on the chaise
lounge with her feet up and urged her daughter to "play something tranquil
and soft" before dinner was served.

Lizzie
obliged and was astonished to see her mother doze off in the middle of it. It
had never happened before.

When
her husband came downstairs, he could see she was exceedingly tired and
determined that he would speak with her about it. It was clear to him that
Cassy was exhausting herself. She needed to take a rest from these daily
chores.

It
seemed that, in Mr. Darcy's absence, Cassy was shouldering all of the
responsibility for running Pemberley.

What
had happened, he wondered, to the scheme that his father-in-law had proposed?
Where was the efficient new assistant? It was a matter about which he intended
to speak quite firmly with his wife.

There
was yet another matter, too, one that would interest Cassy and all the family,
but Richard decided, probably wisely, that it could wait for another occasion.

When
they went upstairs after dinner, he waited for his wife to come to bed. She had
changed into her nightclothes and the fresh, scented linen was most welcoming.

As
she got into bed beside him, he said, "Cassy, my dear, you really are
overworking yourself; you are so tired, almost exhausted every evening. I think
it is time you took a rest from some of these duties. While I know your Papa
will be very grateful for all the work you have done, he will not be pleased,
should it make you ill. Do you not agree, my love? Why, I don't believe I have
ever..." he stopped short, realising when he had no response from her at
all, that his well-intentioned lecture was falling on deaf ears.

His
wife had snuggled down beside him and fallen fast asleep.

*

There
was a hint of Autumn in the air when Cassy awoke and found her husband looking
at her with great concern. She had overslept, but she was surprised that he had
not ridden out as he did every morning.

"It
cannot be the slight chill in the air, could it?" she teased, and he
returned to sit beside her on the bed.

His
expression was solemn. "No, it is something far more worrying; Cassy, I am
concerned that you are doing far too much, you are thinner than I have seen you
in years and last night, you fell asleep, even before your head touched the
pillow. Dearest, this must stop; I cannot let you make yourself ill with
overwork."

Cassy
was genuinely surprised at his concern. She
had
been working long hours; going back and
forth to Pemberley and coping with the preparations for Lizzie's wedding, which
was but a few months away, had all taken their toll. But, she considered herself
strong and resilient and tried to allay his fears.

"My
dear husband, it is very kind and sweet of you to be concerned, but I assure
you, I am not unwell and unlikely to be. I admit things have been hectic in
this last week or two, but that is not usual. Once we move into Autumn and
harvest time..."

He
interrupted her. "Things will become even busier, will they not? Forgive
me, my dear. I am not a farmer, but I do know that harvest time is one of the
busiest times in the country. Where is this new man we were to employ, who
would do all the routine tasks for you? Why is he not here?"

It
was then she realised how little she had shared with him over the last few
weeks. Richard, to whom she had always taken her problems, confident that his
wisdom and common sense would help her resolve them, had not heard a word of
the dilemma she faced with John Archer and her decision to delay the appointment
of an assistant until her father returned. When the maid brought in her tea,
she sat up and, as she drank it, slowly savouring the pleasure of the hot,
sweet drink and the comfort of her warm bed, she told him everything.

It
was not easy at first; Cassy had made decisions, which she had to explain, and
there had been reasons for those decisions, of which Richard knew nothing.

His
logical mind probed, asking questions, to which sometimes she had no answer,
except that she had relied upon her instincts. She felt exposed and uneasy,
like a child who had been always praised for doing things well and had suddenly
found she had, inexplicably, done something wrong.

Yet,
Richard was the kindest, most reasonable of men. Sensitive to her feelings,
aware of her unease, he took away her empty cup and, sitting close beside her,
took her hands in his.

"And
why have you not told me of these troublesome matters, Cassy? Did you not think
I could help?" he asked, and she was quick to deny it.

"Oh
no, that wasn't the reason; dear Richard, you have always helped me when I
needed it, but I do know how hard you work at the hospital, how often you are
called out to suffering people, who are in pain or dying.

"I
had no wish to trouble you with trivial matters, tenants' problems, and men
like John Archer...you ought not be bothered with them," she said trying
to explain.

He
responded with his usual concern for her. "Perhaps not with them, my
dearest, but I do wish to know when something or someone vexatious provokes
you. It matters not how trivial it may be; if it impinges upon your peace of
mind and is likely to cause you aggravation, I
must
know. Because that is what our marriage
is about, is it not?

"Whether
I can help solve the problem or not is not the question; my concern is to share
your burden and, if I can help in any way, then so be it. If not, we will
attempt to find a solution or consult someone who can help. But, because I love
you, Cassy, I
must
be
allowed to try. You have to trust me with your troubles.

"Do
you not agree? Is that not what we said to our daughter only a few days ago? Is
it not one reason we have been so very happy together all these years?"

His
voice was warm and kind and there was little need for her to answer.

His
words, gentle and persuasive, brought all her affection for him to the surface
with expressions of gratitude and tenderness. She felt great relief, as she revealed,
not just how much the petty grievances and vexatious problems she'd had to deal
with had taken out of her, but the deep loneliness she had felt, being away
from him and her children. Never before had it been so, and she promised him,
then, that it would never be allowed to happen again. For her husband, who had
endured the painful isolation from her without complaint for several weeks, it
was all he had hoped for. Nothing mattered as much to Richard as the love they shared.

It
was quite some time later that they decided it was time to go downstairs.

The
mid-morning sun was streaming into the breakfast room and, outside, they could
see Laura Ann, James, and Anthony, with Miss Longhurst, reading in the shade of
the oak, whose leaves were just turning to gold.

Breakfast
was leisurely, continuing their present mood of fondness. "Are you not
expected at the hospital today, Richard?" Cassy asked, as they took tea.

He
shook his head and smiled. "No, not today, Henry Forrester is seeing my
patients this morning. I had a presentiment that I may be needed at home."

Cassy
laughed and poured out more tea. "To attend upon your recalcitrant
wife?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Indeed,
and a more pleasant reason I cannot imagine, especially since she is
recalcitrant no longer!" he replied, kissing her gently as he rose to go
to the sideboard.

Returning
to the table, he looked casually out of the window and saw Lizzie running
towards the house. She looked dishevelled and very upset.

"Good
God, what on earth can have happened? Lizzie looks very distressed," he
said and, as they both went to the window, they saw Mr. Grantham and Mr. Carr
striding up the drive behind her.

Cassy
rushed out into the hall, just as Lizzie ran up the steps and almost collided
with her mother. "Lizzie, darling, what is it? What has happened?"
she asked, but Lizzie was cold and trembling. She could hardly speak, except to
make dreadful sounds like someone who had seen a ghost. "Lizzie, speak to
me please," begged her mother, but by that time Richard had gone out to
meet Mr. Carr and Grantham, who stood together at the bottom of the steps.

"He's
dead, Mama; he's dead and it's horrible. Oh Mama!..." Lizzie found her
voice and sobbed, hiding her face against her mother.

Cassy
went rigid with terror.

"Who
is dead, Lizzie? Tell me, child, who is it?" Her thoughts flew to all
those of her family who were out of her sight or away from home: her father, her
two sons, Colonel Fitzwilliam, her brother...it was a moment of absolute
paralysis, as she stood, holding her daughter, unable to discover who it was
had died and caused Lizzie such distress.