Read A Woman of Influence Online
Authors: Rebecca Ann Collins
A Woman of Influence (44 page)
Emily had loved and lost twice over good, loving husbands, yet never had she been heard to bemoan her misfortune or curse her fate. Indeed, she would, at every opportunity, speak of the great happiness she had enjoyed in both her marriages and extol the wonderful qualities of the two men she had loved.
Becky could not help but wonder at her resilient spirit, having not loved as passionately at all, except for Josie, whom she had probably loved too well and indulged too often. With her untimely death, Becky had felt every happy person in the world was her enemy and her life had become tainted with bitterness, until Aldo Contini had shown her that it could be
different.
When it was time to leave, Becky could not dispel her feelings of apprehension as they drove away from the house, leaving behind Emily, Jude, Jessica, and Julian. They appeared cheerful, smiling and promising to write, but Becky had felt a shiver pass through her body, and Mr Contini, sensing it, took her hands in his. They were cold and trembling, and he held them firmly, drawing the folds of her cape over them to keep them warm, calming her unspoken fear and grief.
Becky was grateful for his presence in her life; now, as she coped with her anxiety about Emily, and later, as she would have to face the vexation and woes that life would undoubtedly bring, she knew he would be there, loving her, understanding her fears, and making everything easier to bear.
Slowly, her hands stopped trembling as she felt his strength. Most of all she was deeply and happily aware of his warm, comforting love. Their wedding was a week away. Soon there would be time to speak of their deepest feelings; Becky had never felt more certain of anything in her life.
End of Part Five
An Epilogue...
Returning to Edgewater, with Christmas only days away, Becky was eager to tell Catherine of her conversations with Mrs Darcy. "I must confess to being somewhat surprised; I had not expected such a cordial welcome from Elizabeth," she said, but Catherine responded differently.
"Why, Becky, I do believe you are too sensitive about Lizzie's opinions; as I have said before, she is no longer upset with you. She has no reason to be, with Julian happily married again; even if Lizzie did harbour some kind of grievance about Josie, I do not believe she does so any longer. Besides, I am convinced that Mr Darcy would have counselled her against it, and Mama used to say, Lizzie always heeds his advice."
At this, Becky had to laugh.
"Cathy, I doubt that Elizabeth would agree with you on that last matter. She does pride herself upon her independence, you know. However, I am prepared to accept that she has at least ceased to blame me for everything that went wrong with Julian and Josie's marriage and genuinely wishes us to be reconciled."
"I have no doubt at all on that score," said Catherine and rang to ask for more tea.
The maid who answered brought in the mail, which was chiefly for Mr Burnett, with the exception of two letters, one of which was from Emma Wilson. Catherine opened it, not expecting to find within it any startling news. The two women had carried on a casual correspondence for some years, and their letters had dealt mainly with family matters.
It was therefore with some surprise that she turned over the first page and read the reference to a Mr Danby, who had been brought before Emma's husband, Mr Justice Wilson, at the county assizes.
Emma recalled Becky's interest in the case of one William Rickman of Blessington and advised that Mr Danby and a co-conspirator had been charged with perjury, conspiracy, and several other offences in relation to a case of false witness.
She wrote:
I am sure Becky will be very pleased to hear of this.
Becky, who had been reclining on the sofa, her thoughts miles away, was wrenched back to reality when her sister cried out, "Oh well done! Look, Becky, Emma writes that a Mr Danby has been brought to court and charged. Is that not good news?"
Becky sat up, disbelieving. She reached for the letter, and as she read it, her elation knew no bounds.
"Oh Cathy, this is wonderful news!" she cried. "It means Mr Danby has been brought to justice at last and is likely to be punished for his crimes."
"I thought that would please you," said Catherine.
"It certainly does," Becky replied, "but it will also come as a relief to Annabel, who never believed that Danby would give up. She feared that his evil mind would conjure up some other means of persecution to wreak his revenge upon Rickman. She will be truly grateful for this news."
"Well, Emma will be pleased to know that her information has brought such universal joy--I shall tell her all about it when I next write," Catherine promised, and Becky could not resist some self-congratulation at the result.
"You may certainly convey my thanks and my feelings of utter satisfaction," she declared, adding that she could not wait to give Annabel the good news.
***
The journey to Derbyshire to visit Emily Courtney had taken almost ten days from Becky's wedding preparations, which, therefore, had been seriously set back. She now faced the fact that there was very little time left and, save for her family and a few close friends, no one had been invited. Having considered the matter overnight, she had reached a decision, which she put to Mr Contini the following day. It was a somewhat radical plan, and she was not entirely sure he would approve. He had arrived at Edgewater after breakfast, and they were seated in Becky's study, where her desk was littered with lists and notes that lay exactly as she had left them before departing so hurriedly for Derbyshire a fortnight ago.
Mr Contini had expected to receive a catalogue of tasks that had to be done and letters that must be written and despatched forthwith. To his amazement, his bride-to-be proposed no such thing.
Instead, Becky said simply, "Dearest, would you mind very much if we had just a simple ceremony at the church and a wedding breakfast for our families and closest friends, here at Edgewater? I very much doubt there will be time to prepare for anything grander."
So surprised was he by her suggestion, he took a minute or two to respond, during which time she, fearing he was disappointed, tried to explain. "I am sorry, I know I should have asked your opinion earlier; it is only that I have just realised we would need to spend a great deal of precious time in all these preparations, when what I really wish for is for us to spend as much time together as possible."
By the time she had completed her sentence, Mr Contini had understood that Becky was seriously suggesting something he had always wanted but had not dared to ask, believing all ladies wished for elaborate weddings.
It was certainly true in Italy, and he had not supposed it would be any different in England.
But now, in view of what she had said, so delighted was he, he could do no less than rise and take her in his arms.
"Becky my love, that is precisely what I would wish for us to do--a simple ceremony and a wedding breakfast just for the family would be perfect!" he said.
When she expressed her surprise, he went further, saying with a smile, "How very clever you are to have discovered exactly what my feelings were on this matter. I cannot imagine anything more congenial to my present mood, especially if you will let me suggest that we have only our most favourite family members and friends to join us on the day, yes?"
Becky could scarcely believe her ears. She was happy to comply, she said, but felt compelled to warn him that some folk may not be pleased at being left out.
She reminded him that he had aunts and uncles in Italy who may well expect to be asked to attend.
"Will they not be unhappy about being left out?" she said, only to have him laugh merrily, and say, "Of course, and they are just the folk we do not need to see at our wedding, for they will only make long faces and criticise your gown or my coat or the length of the sermon and perhaps fall asleep in church and snore in the middle of the ceremony. Can you not see it, my dear? Besides, many of them will probably attend the wedding party in Florence."
Becky was pleased that they had agreed upon this very first question in their marriage with such good humour.
"I agree entirely; if only we could settle all matters that we may have to confront in the future in such a harmonious fashion, we should never quarrel at all," she said.
This drew from him a light riposte about a lesson learnt at his father's knee.
"My father was a wise man; whenever he had lost an argument with my mother or my grandmother, he would say to me, 'Remember, Aldo, my son, never begin an argument with a woman, unless you mean to surrender in the end. It is far less painful that way and may even be pleasurable.'"
"It is a lesson well worth learning. Clearly, your father was not just a wise man, but a witty one as well," said Becky.
***
On Christmas Eve, Mr Contini was to return to London to spend Christmas with his aunt and uncle, planning to return in time for the wedding with them and a gentleman, Mr Antonio Pieri, who was to be his best man.
"Antonio and I have been friends all our lives. His father was killed in the early struggles of Garibaldi, and my family took him in. We are as close as brothers, maybe even closer, for there is no petty rivalry between us as there often is between siblings. I have long wished to introduce him to you, and he will be honoured if you were to meet him," he explained, and Becky was quick to respond.
"I should be very happy to make his acquaintance, and so will Catherine and Frank. Any friend of yours must soon be one of ours, too," she said.
Before leaving for London, Mr Contini presented his bride to be with a necklace, fashioned in Florence of silver and polished turquoise, which brought exclamations of envy and admiration from the entire family. It was the first gift he had given her, and Becky was overwhelmed by its beauty.
"You will wear it on our wedding day?" he asked, and she said without hesitation, "Of course, it is very beautiful; thank you."
When he left, having taken long and loving leave of her, she was dismayed at how lonely she felt without him. She missed him within the first hour of their parting and was glad she had made him promise to take great care on his journey and return to her as soon as ever he could.
Becky spent Christmas Day at the Dower House with her sister and Mr Burnett, hoping that with Catherine's help, she could prepare for her wedding without needless bustle or panic.
Recalling the extravagant celebrations of her first marriage, where all of the arrangements had been taken over by the staff of the Tate household and most of the guests were friends and business associates of her husband's family, Becky delighted in the thought that this time, everything would be as she and Mr Contini wished it to be.
They had promised each other there would be no fuss, no formality, and above all no speeches.
"I do not think we need speeches, my love," he had said when they had talked of their plans. "Politicians make speeches, not lovers. In Italy, they drink wine and sing love songs at the wedding feast; I do not understand this desire for speeches. It is not a political occasion; is it not sufficient that we promise to love and care for one another for the rest of our lives?"
Becky agreed wholeheartedly, saying she could not recall a single wedding at which anyone had made a speech she cared to remember.
"You are quite right; what need is there for speeches? I would much prefer that someone sang love songs at our wedding breakfast; sadly, I know of no one who could be persuaded to oblige," she had said, and he had promised there would be love songs sung at their wedding feast in Italy.
***
On a cold, bright morning, a few days after Christmas, with their chosen friends and family around them, Becky and Mr Contini were married in the church at Hunsford, where as a child, she had sat with her mother and sisters in the front pew on the left of the aisle, below the pulpit, while her father, Reverend Collins, had preached dreary sermons to his captive audience of parishioners, under the stern, judgmental gaze of the formidable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Their mother, Charlotte, had ensured that none of her daughters fidgeted or yawned, for fear of bringing down the wrath of Her Ladyship upon them.
On this special day, there was no intimidating presence and no boring homily. Mr Jamison concentrated with peculiar earnestness upon the hymns and readings they had chosen, while the small congregation of family, friends, and staff gathered to wish them happiness.
Jonathan and Anna had arrived at Rosings on Boxing Day together, with James and Emma Wilson representing the Pemberley families. At the wedding breakfast, there were no tiresome speeches, but Jonathan Bingley did rise to propose a toast to the couple.
"They are very dear friends of mine, and I have known them both for most of my life. It is my greatest pleasure to ask you to join me in wishing them every happiness in the future," he said, and Becky could not have been more pleased.
***
Some days later, the newly wed Mr and Mrs Contini travelled to Italy, where they attended a ceremony at an ancient village church, situated above the villa that his family had owned for several generations.
There, a rotund and jovial priest, who remembered Aldo Contini's First Communion, blessed their marriage according to the Catholic rite.
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