Netherfield Park Revisited (27 page)

He had spoken lightly, having taken for granted that Jonathan had accepted the Party's offer to place him in a safe constituency and enable his return to Parliament at the earliest opportunity.

Jonathan's answer shocked him.

“I am not sure I will be returning to the Commons, Sir,” he said, quietly, peeling a tangerine with some care.

Caroline and her husband responded as one, “Jonathan! What do you mean?”

Anne-Marie, who had listened in silence except for the odd, inconsequential remark, was roused out of her reverie by the vigour of their reaction. She saw her father smile and put down his knife and wipe his fingers meticulously, before he spoke.

“I have not yet decided to accept the Party's offer, sir. I am conscious of the great honour they have done me, but I am not certain that my own interests and those of my children will be best served by returning to Parliament,” he said very deliberately and firmly.

Fitzwilliam could not believe his ears. To be offered a seat by the Party, when most others had to struggle to get preferment, was a singular honour and this young man was turning it down!

“Jonathan, what has brought about this change of heart?” he asked, unable to hide his disappointment.

“You are right, sir, for it is indeed a change of heart, rather than a change of mind. I cannot give you a logical argument to justify it. Indeed, I cannot be certain that such a decision can be justified logically. But there are many circumstances, some too painful to discuss here, which have affected my thinking on this matter. As you know and Anne-Marie will agree, I was for some years a dedicated Member of Parliament and afterwards a conscientious adviser to my brother-in-law James Wilson and other members of the Party. I have given unstintingly of my time.”

No one at the table doubted this for one moment.

“However, my circumstances have changed and I am inclined to believe that my children, especially my daughters, must now have the right to expect that same dedication and conscientious attention to their cause.”

“Does James Wilson know of your changed position?” Fitzwilliam asked, and Jonathan had to confess that he had not had the opportunity to speak to Mr Wilson on the subject.

“However, I do intend to visit them and tell him personally. I know he will be disappointed,” he explained, apologetically.

There was a very long silence, during which Fitzwilliam looked rather disapprovingly into his glass, before Caroline sighed and said, “And what do you think, Anne-Marie?”

Anne-Marie looked at her father and smiled before replying in a very quiet but firm voice, “If I thought that by returning to the House of Commons, Papa could achieve what he believes in, what he and others have worked for, I would urge him to return. He has been a most hard working Member and I am proud of what he has been able to do. But if he has not that certainty, it will only cause him more aggravation and discontent. I should not like to see that happen, Papa.”

Her father leant across and touched her hand, a gentle, intimate gesture of understanding and gratitude that seemed to answer the questions the Fitzwilliams had raised far better than any words.

The mood changed when they rose to move into the drawing room for coffee and began to talk of other things, of farming and Netherfield and, somewhat surprisingly, of the Faulkners.

Caroline was a friend of Anna Faulkner's cousin Rebecca Tate, whose husband owned several newspapers in the Midlands and, meeting her at a function in Derby recently, she had heard of Anna's return from Europe.

“I understood from Rebecca that she was spending some time in London working at an Art School,” said Caroline, looking to Jonathan for confirmation.

Jonathan confirmed that Miss Faulkner had indeed spent the Summer in London, helping her friends the Armandes run their Summer school on French Art, but had since returned to the country and was living with her parents at Haye Park where, he had been told, she was very happy.

Caroline recalled meeting her as a very young girl visiting her cousin Rebecca some years ago.

“I think it was Josie's birthday or it might have been Walter's, and Anna was here with her parents. Even then, she was remarkably pretty and exceedingly talented. I understand she has since studied Art and Music in Europe these three years,” Caroline remarked.

Jonathan had to agree.

“Yes, ma'am, I believe she has. I have seen some of her work and it is quite beautiful to look at, though I must confess I am no great judge of Art.”

“Ah, but you are a good judge of beauty, Jonathan, I'm sure. After all these years, is she still as pretty?” asked Fitzwilliam.

Jonathan answered without hesitation, “Indeed she is, sir, I would regard her as one of the handsomest, most elegant ladies of my acquaintance.”

Fitzwilliam and Caroline exchanged glances and smiled.

“Now that is high praise,” said Caroline, and Anne-Marie added her voice.

“Indeed it is and well deserved,” she said. “Miss Faulkner is not only an elegant and handsome woman with many accomplishments, she combines these qualities with the kindest and most generous of hearts. Were it not for her and our dear Aunt Emma, I do not know how we would have survived the dreadful days following Mama's accident. She came to us day after day, frequently rising early and walking the distance from Belgrave Square to help comfort Cathy and Tess, and often, when I could no longer cope with the unending stream of callers at Grosvenor Street, she would step in and let me get some rest.

“I think we are all very grateful to Miss Faulkner, are we not, Papa?” she asked, turning to Jonathan, who had remained silent during this passionate tribute, trying, not very successfully, to conceal his pleasure.

Forced by her question to provide an answer, he was delighted to agree.

“Oh yes, indeed we are, all of us, very appreciative of Miss Faulkner and her wonderful friends the Armandes, who have only this week returned to Europe. They were most helpful, nothing was too much trouble for Monsieur Armande and as for Madame, she was a tower of strength when we needed it most,” he added, not wishing to speak only of Anna.

Caroline heard all this with interest and declared, “Indeed, I must tell Becky when we next meet. I am sure she will be very happy to hear it. She was becoming concerned about her young cousin, wondering if she would ever get over her early disappointment. I believe she was very young at the time …”

Jonathan, sensing the direction of her conversation and being unwilling to become involved in a discussion of Anna, for whom he was beginning to feel a far deeper affection than would permit him to speak of her with impartiality, sought to divert it.

“From what I could observe, ma'am, she seemed very content, and Dr and Mrs Faulkner are delighted to have her back home at Haye Park.”

This brought the conversation to a close and gave him the opportunity to rise and suggest that it was time to leave. They parted, promising to meet again before Jonathan and his daughters left for Netherfield. In the carriage, Anne-Marie asked her father whether he had really believed that returning to Parliament was not in his children's interest.

“Are you sure it was not seeing Mama's letter that made you feel that way?” she asked. Jonathan was quite certain.

“I am; my dear, I have been contemplating this change for almost a month or more—ever since I moved to live at Netherfield. It may be that it is the first time I have had a place of my own. I would like us all to make our home there and to do that, I must decide that it is where I spend most of my time. I would go up to London from time to time, of course, but Netherfield will be my home. I should like to think that you would come and stay with us, Anne-Marie. Would you?” he asked.

Hearing the anxious plea in his voice, she replied, “Of course I would, Papa. I should love to have a place to go home to. Eliza is very kind, but Harwood House is not my home; I am a guest there and it is not the same. I shall certainly come to Netherfield, I cannot wait to see it after all the work you have had done,” she declared, and he smiled, happy to find her so agreeable.

“Does that mean you would approve if I decided against returning to Westminster?” he asked.

The maturity of her answer belied her tender years.

“Papa, it is not for me to approve or disapprove. You must do what is right for you. But I can say this: I think you would make both Tess and Cathy very happy if you remained at Netherfield. They do miss Mama terribly and it would help them cope, should you be there with them. I wish I could stay, but I must do what I am doing, it's work I cannot turn my back on. We are saving lives, literally, and they depend upon us. It is very good to come away like this but I must return after Christmas,” she said.

“And do you intend to continue your work at the hospital?” he asked, and she answered with eyes bright and a voice firm with conviction.

“I do, Papa. Believe me, there is no nobler, more satisfying work for a woman. I am completely committed to it. Miss Nightingale, who has been our inspiration, has recently written a book about nursing and she proposes to start a school for nurses, very soon. I dare not expect to be fortunate enough to be selected as one of her first students, but I intend to keep trying. I have already spoken with Eliza Harwood, and she has promised to seek a good recommendation for me from the military hospital in Harwood Park.”

Suddenly, seeing his expression, she stopped.

“Papa, you are not going to object, I hope?” she cried, an anxious frown upon her face.

Jonathan laughed.

“Object? Of course not, my dear Anne-Marie, why should I? If it matters so much to you, how could I object? However, I do believe you are not strong enough for all the hard work it entails. It is an arduous job, as you well know. I shall have to nag you about eating more nutritious food.”

She was smiling now, knowing she would not have to fight his disapproval.

“As for Tess and Cathy,” he went on, “you are not expected to play nursemaid to them, even though you are their elder sister. I intend to ask Mrs Collins to recommend a suitable governess, who will take over their education, and I hope Miss Faulkner may be persuaded to give them lessons in Music and Art.”

It was something he had thought about, but had not had the opportunity to discuss with anyone. This, he decided, was as good a time as any to discover what Anne-Marie thought of his plan.

“So you see, I have it all planned and you need never feel guilty about returning to your beloved wounded soldiers. They are fortunate, indeed, to have such a dedicated nurse.”

Anne-Marie almost hugged him with delight.

“Thank you, Papa, you have made me so very happy. I have been meaning to tell you, but there it is—it's all out now and I am so glad you do not object.”

“Would it have made a difference if I had?” he asked, only half serious.

She looked crestfallen.

“Of course it would. I should still have gone on with nursing, but without your blessing, I should have been most unhappy, even doing what I loved.”

He was glad they had no cause for such unhappiness.

“When you have decided about Westminster, what will you tell Aunt Emma and Mr Wilson?” she asked, assuming he would have to break the news to them soon.

Jonathan bit his lip.

“I shall tell them the truth when the time comes. I have decided that I do not think it is possible for me to do my duty by my constituents and care for Cathy and Tess as I should. I may, however, continue in my role as adviser to James' group until the next election. That may alleviate some of the disappointment he will undoubtedly feel. But in the end, they will both understand my children must come first.”

***

Two days later, they were dining at Pemberley together with Jonathan's parents and Richard and Cassandra Gardiner when the subject came up again. No doubt Darcy had heard it from his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and Cassy had been told by Caroline. Jonathan knew the questions would be forthcoming and braced himself, expecting the same look of disappointment, perhaps even disapproval, he'd had from Fitzwilliam.

When the question came, as they were finishing dinner, he saw Elizabeth look at him across the table, and both his parents appeared rather apprehensive, as Mr Darcy asked, “I understand, Jonathan, you may not be going back into Parliament after all?”

His reply was cautious, not wishing to start an argument all over again.

“I have not quite decided, sir. I am inclined to believe that my place, at the moment, is with my children, especially Tess and Cathy. They miss their mother desperately and I think my first duty is to them.”

He was quite unprepared for Darcy's reply.

“Of course it is, you are right to consider carefully what you must do. It will be difficult enough to raise young children on your own, without taking on the responsibilities of a Member of Parliament, which are becoming increasingly burdensome.”

Jonathan smiled broadly. He had a great deal of respect and affection for Mr Darcy and was delighted to have his support.

“It is very kind of you to say so, sir,” he said. “I realise I shall be disappointing several people in the Party, but I do have to think of the girls.”

“Of course you do,” said Darcy, adding, “The Party will be disappointed, certainly. I know from James Wilson that they had great hopes for you, but you have given them excellent service both in and out of Parliament. Fitzwilliam has told me of your valuable work after the election, negotiating with the Peelites and Liberals to secure the alliance that defeated Derby. That alone must be cause for gratitude, but no one, however dedicated, can be expected to put the interest of their Party above their family forever. Your children are entitled to expect you to look to their future as well.”

Jonathan was exceedingly pleased. Anne-Marie, knowing he placed a great deal of value on Mr Darcy's opinion, realised that this would help fix his resolve. No one else said anything more on the subject.