The Ladies of Longbourn (13 page)

"I could not go back, Mrs Bradshaw, not with my two girls. They have been happy and safe here; I could not let them go back to that squalor and fear, with no schooling, no money, and no hope of a decent life. It would be a sin; I would rather die than do it," she declared.
Anne-Marie was alarmed. "Hush, Lucy, there is no need for that. You will only put more fear in their hearts," she said and, having sat with them a while until they were quieter, she left them as the servants brought in their dinner. As she went downstairs to join the others, she wondered at the extent of Mrs Sutton's suffering and thought bitterly, "And how could I have condemned her so? I, who should have been understanding and helpful to such a woman?"
Later that night, she talked long and seriously with Anna, who had come to her room before retiring. Jonathan had told her of Anne-Marie's outburst of guilt in the carriage. Anna understood her distress yet urged her not to dwell upon her sense of shame.
"But, Anna, how could I have been so blinded by prejudice as not to even question my own judgment?" she asked and Anna replied,
"You were mistaken. I know you must feel unhappy, but think, Anne-Marie, it is far better now to turn your mind to helping them deal with this nightmare, especially the two girls. Think how much you can do to help them; that is far more important than pursuing your own guilt."
She was still not content. "But how was I so utterly unfair? I am not normally overbearing and censorious."
"Of course, you are not. I know that," said Anna.
"Yet, there was I, prepared to expose and condemn her, with no evidence of wrongdoing. Oh, I shall never live this down."
Anna smiled. "Not in your own estimation, perhaps, but in truth, the damage has not been great. I am sure when you have set out to help them, you will cease to be as severe upon yourself as you are now."
Summoned by an express sent by Mr Bingley, the solicitor, Mr Hart, arrived at Netherfield, together with his clerk, a learned young man, very thin, and bespectacled but with a great many volumes of law books in his case. Mr Hart was a man well versed in the law and its applications, and Jonathan Bingley was sure he would give Mrs Sutton sound advice.
For over two hours, he was closeted in the library with Mrs Sutton, her elder daughter, Marigold, and Anna, before Jonathan was called in to hear what he had proposed. Mr Hart laid the facts out in painful detail.
"Marriages," he declared in a grave voice, "be they happy or miserable, are very difficult to dissolve." He described, for their benefit, "the three routes available, under the Act of 1857, to a party who may wish to divorce or be separated from a partner."
In appropriately solemn tones, he went on, "There is a
vinculo matrimonii
, which allows for an annulment in the appropriate circumstances, which does not apply in this case; then there is divorce
a mensa et a thoro
, under which, in cases of adultery, extreme cruelty, or gross physical violence, a separation may be permitted. However," he warned, in a most severe voice, "if that is chosen, there can be no remarriage. The third route involves an application to Parliament. This is a real divorce and the partners may then remarry, but I must warn, it is an extremely expensive and dilatory route to take."
Mrs Sutton could scarcely wait for him to finish, to point out that she had no wish at all to marry again and wished only to be allowed to live separately and bring up her children in peace, free from abuse and harassment.
"In which case, ma'am," Mr Hart intoned sombrely, "I should recommend the second course, which is also the least expensive. However, you will need reliable witnesses to the acts of cruelty."
To Anna's surprise, Marigold Sutton, not quite eleven years old, having sat through the ordeal holding her mother's hand, spoke up and declared that she had frequently witnessed the violence visited upon her mother and brother by their father, and promised she would swear to it before a magistrate if need be.
When Anna, who had been deeply shocked, later told her husband of this, her eyes filled with tears again at the memory.
"To hear a child, for that is what Marigold is, say with so much feeling that she would give sworn testimony against her father was so appalling, I could not believe I was hearing right," she said. Jonathan comforted her and told her that it was certain proof that the children were better for being separated from their violent father. He told her also that Mr Hart, before departing, had hinted that there appeared to be sufficient evidence to obtain a separation order on the grounds of cruelty and physical violence.
"It is certainly fortunate that she is not seeking to remarry, since that would have been a good deal more difficult and expensive," said he.
Anna commented that any woman who had suffered as Mrs Sutton had done, in one marriage, was unlikely to be eager and willing to rush into another.
When Anne-Marie was told of Mr Hart's advice to Lucy Sutton, she expressed her satisfaction but asked what was to be done in the meanwhile to secure the safety of Mrs Sutton and her children. Anna, who had already discussed the matter with her husband, replied, "They would have to remain under your father's protection, if only to spare them the indignity of harassment, until the separation is granted. I have suggested that they should be allowed the use of the vacant cottage at Abbotsford, which lies within the estate and is close enough to afford her and her girls some security, since it is situated in close proximity to the home of Mr Bowles," she explained, adding, "Mr Bowles has been over to Longbourn today and there has been no sign of Mr Sutton or the private detective, which is good news."
Anne-Marie was pleased. She had some good news of her own to add: "I have been talking with young Marigold; she is very interested in the children's hospital and wishes to help. She says when she is older she would very much wish to train as a nurse!"
Anna was delighted. "That is excellent news; it will mean that the girl will have something to occupy her and, if she is to help you, Mrs Sutton will not have to worry about her at all," she said and Anne-Marie agreed. "She is hardworking and sensible, too, which is a great start. Both girls have offered to help me make posters for our campaign."
It was clear that Anne-Marie had taken Anna's advice seriously and was throwing herself enthusiastically into the task of helping the two girls recover from the shock and fear of the past week. Mrs Sutton would be most grateful, too. It meant she could continue to teach at Longbourn, knowing her girls were safely occupied.
Anna felt deeply for her; being happily married herself, it was most depressing to encounter the pain and bitterness of broken marriage that afflicted Lucy Sutton and her children. She felt a deep sense of gratitude to her own husband, as well a strong desire to help those less fortunate who had been hurt. The knowledge that her husband shared this sense of responsibility gave her great satisfaction.

The removal of the Suttons from Netherfield House to the cottage at Abbotsford coincided with the return of Charles Bingley and Colin Elliot to the district. The two men had met several times in London and appeared to have become firm friends, despite the fact that their political loyalties were to opposite sides of the house. They were dining at Netherfield House when this was commented upon and Charles laughed heartily, declaring that he had hopes "by one means or another, of making a Reformist of Elliott, even if I have to perform some surgical operation upon him!"

Amidst much laughter, his friend retorted that he hoped this operation would not be too painful. "It would need to be performed upon the heart, would it not?" asked Anne-Marie, obviously intending her remark to be taken lightly. But Anna noted that Mr Elliott glanced at her quickly and looked surprised, even hurt, by the taunt.

She spoke quickly, hoping to assuage his distress. "Come now, that is unfair. I do not think there is anything lacking in the quality of Mr Elliott's heart, which I know is not only compassionate, but is well disposed towards Reform already," she said, to which Elliott replied gratefully, "Indeed, ma'am, I thank you for your kind defence of my heart. Should you care to ask any of my colleagues in the Tory Party, or indeed my own father, you will learn that most of them believe I lean too far towards the Liberals."

"Indeed?" said Jonathan Bingley, sensing the need to steer the conversation into safer waters, "On what particular matters?"
"Well, sir, I suppose it would be mainly on matters relating to Parliamentary reform. I support the principles that Mr Bright and Mr Gladstone wish to enshrine in a new Reform Bill; I am astonished to hear it will be defeated by the Whigs who will vote it down."
"Those infernal Adullamites," said Jonathan, clearly irritated. "Mr Elliott, there are men in our party of whom I sometimes despair."
"If it were introduced, would you vote to pass it?" asked Anna.
"Certainly, Mrs Bingley," Elliott replied.
"Even if it meant crossing the floor?" interjected Anne-Marie, who had remained silent since her unhappy remark.
"Even so, Mrs Bradshaw. I know it will do my political career no good at all, but it is a matter of principle; I could not vote in the Commons to deny ordinary working men the right to vote for their Member of Parliament."
In a gentler tone, Anne-Marie asked, "Then surely, you would not oppose giving women the vote?"
Elliott, though taken aback somewhat, answered her directly, "No indeed, I would not, though I confess I am unaware of any such proposition in the Parliament at this time."
"I meant as a matter of principle, Mr Elliott," she persisted, a subtle inflection in her voice, leaving no doubt as to her meaning.
"Absolutely not, Mrs Bradshaw; it is my strong conviction that all adult citizens should have the right to vote; I can find no argument to justify denying it to one section of our community, solely on the grounds that they are not men!" he said, and everyone laughed including Anne-Marie. Charles rubbed it in, teasing his friend, pointing out that it was easy to support a proposition when there was no possibility of it being introduced into the Parliament in the foreseeable future.
But this time, to Elliott's surprise, Anne-Marie came to his defence, "If Mr Elliott says he will support it in the future, we must believe him, Charles. Indeed that makes him a good deal more of a Reformist than many of the Whigs sitting in the Parliament today, does it not, Papa?"
Jonathan smiled and agreed, adding that he was not at all surprised to hear Mr Elliott's views. "In my conversations with him, I have found him to be far more enlightened in his opinions than most Tories I have known. Indeed, I have wondered what Sir Paul Elliott may have to say when he hears his speeches in the Commons."
As the company broke into laughter and the port was placed upon the table, the ladies rose and withdrew.
The talk around the table ranged from the American Civil War to the urgent need for reform of rural councils.
"Most of them are dominated by large landholders and the country gentry, who have no time for democracy," said Charles, and Elliott agreed; his own father kept a pretty tight rein on the local councils in Hertfordshire, where he had the largest land holdings of all. He was well aware that rural councils in England were still in need of reform.
Happily, they discovered they were all in agreement about the American Civil War. President Lincoln had to be supported in his struggle to free the slaves and preserve the Union.
When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, Anna was making tea while Anne-Marie poured out the coffee. She had had early hopes of discovering the extent of Sir Paul Elliott's support for their hospital, but the matter had not come up at all during dinner, and she had not been sitting near enough to Mr Elliott to introduce the subject, without drawing too much attention to it. She was impatient to know, however, and had decided to approach Colin Elliott at some time during the evening.
There was another matter, too, that she was very keen to mention. An opportunity presented itself when he came to her with his empty coffee cup, which she refilled. When he thanked her, she moved away from the table with him and said quickly,
"Mr Elliott, I do apologise; I hope I did not offend you. My remark about surgery on the heart was meant in jest. I was not intending to suggest that you were deficient in compassion or sensibility," she said and was relieved to see him smile.
"I knew you were not, Mrs Bradshaw, and I took no offence, I assure you. But, I would not wish you to misunderstand my situation; while I am a member of the party, I am often unable to support some of the extreme views of my fellow Tories in Parliament. My father knew this when he asked me to stand for election to his seat. I made it quite clear that there were some issues on which I would not follow the party line."
She nodded and went on, "And may I ask, what was his response to the proposal to establish a children's hospital?"
She expected some evasive answer, for it was clear to her that he had no good news to impart, else he would have spoken earlier. But to her surprise, he made no such attempt, saying frankly, "Mrs Bradshaw, I have to confess that in this enterprise, I have had no success at all. My father is completely uninterested in such matters; he regards the health of the poor as a concern for charitable organisations, which should be left entirely to the local council or the church."
Even though she had expected it, the answer was deeply disappointing, "I am amazed," she said. "Is he not a man of humanity? Has he no compassion? What arguments did you use with him?"
Colin Elliott looked decidedly downcast. "All of the usual arguments about responsibility and compassion, social conscience and the rest; regrettably none of these has any resonance with my father. Indeed, Mrs Bradshaw, I was mortified; I mean if I cannot secure support for such a noble cause as a children's hospital, what use am I to my constituency? I said as much to my father and left the house having declared that I was seriously considering resignation from the Commons."
Anne-Marie was aghast. "Mr Elliott, you will do no such thing!" she said, and he saw her eyes flash with anger as she spoke. "Why, that would be such a waste; there is much to be done and much you can accomplish for your constituents, with their support. It is not the consent of your father you need; it is the support of the people you represent and they will support you, if you convince them of the value of our project for their community," she explained, speaking with a degree of warmth and zeal that he had not seen in her before.
"And how do you think this may be accomplished?" he asked.
"In the same way that my cousin Caroline Fitzwilliam and her friends won support for a school and a hospital in their part of Derbyshire," she replied. "We shall apply to the council, of course, but we shall also take the matter to the people directly. If you help us do this, help us explain to the ordinary people how important it is for them to have a hospital here for their children, I am certain we will succeed. It is the only way."
Colin Elliott was transfixed by her passionate advocacy and offered his help whenever she needed it.
"Of course I will help you in any way I can. What do you propose to do?" he asked.
"Well, I think, tomorrow, I shall call on the man who produces our local newspaper, the
Herald
. He is a Mr Tillyard; do you know him?"
Colin Elliott said yes, he knew Stephen Tillyard very well.
"We were at school and Cambridge together. There is a family connection, too; our mothers were cousins."
Anne-Marie was delighted. "Well, there you are then; we shall take my brother Charles along, and you can both persuade him to support our campaign in his paper."
Mr Elliott was impressed by her energy and her grasp of the issues involved in their scheme. He had a few questions, though.
"What about funds?" he asked, "We shall probably need several hundred pounds, maybe more, if we get no help from the council."
Anne-Marie seemed untroubled. "Once we have approval, we shall find the money. We must get over the first hurdle," she declared and, seeing her brother approaching, she drew him towards them and left the two men together to discuss the matter, while she went to help Anna with their guests.
Anna noticed the change in her. Despite her earlier disappointment, Anne-Marie was smiling as if all her hopes had been fulfilled.