Mr. Darcy's Daughters (13 page)

She heard the creak of her sister’s bed, and the sound of footsteps crossing the room. She quickly blew out her candle; she really did not feel inclined to hear all Letty’s fears, nor to be an object of her concern, with invitations to share her room that they might be a comfort to each other, suggestions that they should go and make sure their sisters were safe, worries that the servants might have neglected to fasten the doors properly, thus allowing burglars, the weather and Lord knew what else to come visiting in the small, dark hours.

She lay still, not answering the gentle knock on the door, and presently she heard Letty return to her own room. Her mind drifted back to the sunlit tales in the
Decameron,
the nature of love between men and women, the possibility of her seeing Sir Sidney upon the morrow, and, more alarmingly, on her aunt Lydia’s two marriages and the likelihood of the twins falling under her influence. Fanny might be sanguine, but she had seen the gleam in Belle and Georgina’s eyes; she knew that they had been enchanted by their aunt and would not easily be persuaded to keep the acquaintance to a formal visit or two. No matter, she would mention it to Fanny; her cousin must by now be realising just how strong-willed her younger sisters could be. All three of them; what a mercy it was that Alethea was still under Griffy’s care.

On the top floor Miss Griffin, a warm shawl wrapped round her head, her nose red and streaming, wrote by the light of a single candle, covering page after page of cream paper in a flowing, beautifully formed hand. In the room on the other side of the passage, Alethea sat in front of the fire as Figgins carefully took a pair of scissors to her curly hair, while she made plans for her time in London; such plans as would have sent her eldest sisters starting from their comfortable beds if they could but have heard her vibrant voice outlining them to Figgins in the warm and private chamber above.

Mrs. Pollexfen came to call on Fanny and her nieces the very next day, before any plans about visiting her or attempts to subdue the twins’ expectations could be made. The timing was unlucky, for although Lady Fanny was at home and receiving visitors, her thoughts were all taken up with concern for her daughter Charlotte, who had developed a severe sore throat and overnight had started a rash, thus increasing her mother’s alarm that she might be going down with a serious illness.

Letitia at once added to Fanny’s maternal fears. She shook her head, looked grave and recommended that a physician be called for without delay.

“I have already sent for Dr. Molloy,” said Fanny.

“You cannot be too careful,” Letitia said. “So many dangerous illnesses start in such a way.”

“And so many cases of a sore throat and rash turn out to be just that,” said Camilla quickly. “A child is fretful for a day or two, and then he or she is restored to perfect health and forgets all about it. Pray do not worry, Fanny. I assure you, I and all my sisters, to say nothing of my little brothers, were for ever throwing out rashes of one sort or another, and we are all perfectly healthy.”

“That was in the country,” Letitia felt obliged to point out. “In London it is very different, and the opportunities for catching infections, serious infections, are so very much greater.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks.” Why did Letty not notice the effect her words were having on their cousin and hold her tongue? Certainly the little girl did not look well, but there was no need for such a long face, nor of expressing certainty of there being some serious complaint. “Dr. Molloy will be here directly, Fanny, and I am sure he will be able to set your mind at rest.”

“Indeed, I hope so.” Fanny’s face brightened as she heard the knocker sound. “Perhaps that is the doctor now.” She hurried to the door, but only to hear Fell announce Mrs. Pollexfen.

“The physician is not yet come, my lady,” he said, as Lydia Pollexfen came through the door talking and fluttering her hands and uttering little laughs. She stopped, held up her hands in an extravagant gesture of delight and glided forward to clasp Letitia in a scented embrace.

“How lovely you are grown, Letty, so like my sister Jane; a little taller, perhaps, but even prettier, I swear.”

Her greeting to Camilla was not quite so warm. “And you, so like your dear mother, although your hair is a trifle darker, is it not? And you have her satirical eye; I am quite prepared to be afraid of you, for you must know that my sister can be quite provoking at times.”

Camilla greeted her aunt, who then moved away to bestow soft, cooing kisses on the twins, who were clearly much more to her liking. “I thought, when I set eyes on you, who are those divinely pretty creatures? Having no idea, you may be sure, that you were my very own nieces. For when I last saw you, you were two little dumplings in the nursery; who could imagine you would grow into such beauties? For in our family, you know, there was but the one beauty, and that was my sister Jane. Your mother was well enough, although too sharp-eyed to be called a real beauty. I was pretty, you know, much the prettiest, but Jane was truly beautiful.”

Camilla could believe that her aunt Lydia had been pretty, for she had kept the faded remnants of her youthful looks. But whereas Aunt Jane was still a beauty—this, in her case, being a matter of bones and features as much as it had ever been due to youth and bloom—Aunt Lydia’s charms were rather those of manner and style. Her smiles, her elegance, her gestures, the play of her eyes and her fashionable but individual dressing were the basis of her attractiveness.

And she was attractive. She commanded attention, and if Camilla suspected that the smiling mouth might look waspish in repose, and the darting glances of her eyes give way to a shrewder, colder gaze, none of that was evident at this moment.

“I can see you eyeing my gown,” cried her aunt. “You are wondering where I had it from, who my dressmaker is, for it is not quite in the English fashion, is it? Well, my dears, I can tell you that I have all my gowns from Paris, and this is the latest stare in France, and will presently be all the rage in London, I assure you. I am not a beauty, as I said, and not so very young, although younger than your mother of course, and all my other sisters, for I was the baby of the family. Therefore I must dress in the very first style of elegance, and I have my hair cut and attended to by a Frenchman also—I shall give you his name; he will not see to just anyone, but if you mention you are my nieces, there will not be the least problem in the world. Let me tell you, my dear girls, how important it is to be elegant as you grow older. For now you all have such pretty roses in your cheeks—well, I thank God I have retained my complexion, I regard that as a great blessing—but as the years pass, the bloom fades, and then elegance is your support. And for true elegance, let me tell you, you need to spend a great deal of money on yourself, so be mindful of that, and make sure you all find yourselves rich husbands.”

Did she ever draw breath? Camilla wondered.

There was a diversion, in the shape of Alethea, who had been summoned from the schoolroom to come down to the drawing room and meet her aunt.

“Oh!” said Mrs. Pollexfen, her eyebrows shooting up, and her smile vanishing. “Good gracious me, who is this!”

“This is Alethea,” Camilla said, pushing her forward to make her curtsy.

“Heavens, how like your father you are; you give me quite a shock.”

“How do you do, ma’am?” Alethea said politely. “I do take after my father, I believe.”

“Well, I dare say out of the five of you, it was to be expected—However, you others do not have the Darcy look at all, no, nor do any of you resemble his sister, Georgiana. Now, she was never considered to be pretty, although she married so well, and in her first season.”

Letitia wasn’t too happy about these remarks. “I am generally held to take after my aunt Georgiana,” she said stiffly. “And I am not unlike my father, in colouring at least.”

“Oh, do not mistake me,” said Mrs. Pollexfen. “I mean no slight, I assure you, for Darcy was always held to be the handsomest of men, even if I could never see it; he was nothing in comparison to my dear Wickham, you know, who was as agreeable as he was handsome. Miss Alethea here just has that direct look of your father’s, you know, it quite takes me back. And in a female, I am not so very sure—although you are still young, are you not, Alethea?”

“I am sixteen.”

“There you are, there is time yet for your looks to soften, and you will become as pretty as your sisters, I dare say. Of course, I was married at fifteen, I am a great believer in early marriages. I was amazed that your mother kept you in the country so long. I wrote and told her so, send the young ladies to London, I said, and I shall take care of them, let them enjoy the delights of town and beaux, and they will find husbands in no time at all. For you all have excellent fortunes, I know. It is all over town that the rich Miss Darcys are here for the season, and I warrant the fortune hunters are already after you, is that not so?”

She turned to Fanny. “You must take the greatest care of them, and make sure they go everywhere where they may meet men of fashion and wealth. Oh, I shall devise several schemes for them of my own, don’t doubt it, we shall have such fun! What a shame that Alethea will not be able to share in these delights.”

Camilla caught sight of Alethea’s face and hoped that she would refrain from expressing her opinion of any such delights as their aunt might offer. Not that anything would come of them; Fanny was already opening her mouth to make such civil apologies as she might for refusing to allow her charges to spend much time with their aunt.

Mrs. Pollexfen, however, did not listen to a word Fanny was saying; Camilla felt that she was probably in the habit of not hearing what she did not wish to. She was addressing the twins with great animation on the subject of routs, visits to pleasure gardens, pic-nics, breakfasts and other festivities guaranteed to appeal to their frivolous hearts.

Fanny was called away by the arrival of Dr. Molloy, and the minute she was out of the room, Mrs. Pollexfen sat down upon a sofa, bade the twins join her and started to make plans.

Alethea rolled her eyes upwards, shrugged and asked Camilla if she might be excused, as she had been in the middle of a lesson with Miss Griffin. She made her adieux to her aunt, who gave her a chilly smile, dismissing her with, “Yes, indeed, you may run along back to your books, my dear, that is the best place for you.”

Camilla had to smile at the face that Alethea pulled over her shoulder at her aunt and the twins before she disappeared. Her sister’s feet banged on the stairs as she ran up them; the very sound was expressive of her indignation and contempt. She was incorrigible, and it was lucky that Mrs. Pollexfen hadn’t noticed the face; on the other hand, Camilla couldn’t blame Alethea for her behaviour.

Letitia was listening to her aunt’s conversation with a prim look on her face. She drew closer and said in a low voice, “I do not think Papa and Mama would approve of our seeing very much of our aunt.”

“I am very sure they would not. Do not be concerned, and do not berate the twins, for heaven’s sake, or you will set their backs up and make them more resolute in wanting what you have disapproved of. Leave it to Fanny, she will put a stop to it soon enough.”

Their aunt was addressing them, patting Belle’s arm as she spoke. “Here we have been discussing an evening party in my house; it is of all things what I enjoy, and so does my dear Francis. He loves to have pretty females in his drawing room, he is very susceptible to beauty, I often tease him about it. We shall summon all the most eligible young men, and one or two older ones, as well. What will you say, Camilla, if I mention the name of one Sir Sidney?”

She gave a trill of laughter, as, despite herself, Camilla flushed.

“I am right, you see, but you need not blush, for all the world knows about it, there is no secret in the case; wherever I go, I hear your names coupled together. It will be a good match for you, for he is a man of substance, with a good intelligence, and since I know your dear parents consider you clever, and I dare say you are, you will need to choose a man of that kind. It is not every man who wants a clever wife, so you have been fortunate to catch his eye. And even if he is—but we shall not talk of that, it don’t signify in the least. You are a rational creature, I know you for a rational creature, and it is better to marry with one’s head than with one’s heart. I know I would not have said so when I was a girl, and indeed I am the greatest romantic; however, marriage is more than a matter of yearnings and sighings, and every young girl looking out for a husband should realise that. You are very sensible, and have as much prospect of happiness as any young woman I know who is on the verge of matrimony.”

Camilla was thoroughly alarmed by this speech. “I beg of you, do not say such things! There is nothing in the nature of an attachment between myself and any man, and I have no thoughts of matrimony at present.”

“It is very right and proper that you should say so, and you may trust me to say not a word, for it is different here; here we are all family together, and may speak openly and say what we like, is that not so?”

It seemed that the world had chosen that day to beat a path to the Fitzwilliams’ door. No sooner had Mrs. Pollexfen, exclaiming at the length of her visit and the lateness of the hour and protesting that she would at once set about making arrangements for her various schemes, been shown out, than the knocker sounded again. Masculine steps on the stair, this time, and a thin, sleek clergyman with a supercilious expression was shown into the room.

“The Reverend Mr. Valpy,” announced the footman, and withdrew.

Camilla looked at the newcomer with astonishment. She had never set eyes on this man, and nor, judging by their surprised faces, had Belle and Georgina. He advanced into the room with the air of bestowing a favour upon it, and addressed Letty, who had hurried forward on his entrance.

“Ah, my dear Miss Darcy. I see you recognise me, and I beg your pardon for calling upon you unannounced. I do not apologise for my lack of ceremony in dispensing with any introduction, for I am aware, as you must be, that it is the duty of a clergyman to visit the members of his congregation, and I was told that we numbered you among our worshippers on Sunday last.”

Letitia was flustered. “Oh. Yes, that is so, I was in the company of—that is to say I attended the service with Lady Innis and her nephew Captain Allington.”

“Aha, the captain and I are well acquainted, and so I felt I should call and welcome you to our little circle.”

Letitia had recovered herself by that time. “I am flattered by the attention, sir, for indeed your congregation is by no means small; I saw that the church was full on Sunday morning. You must have many claims upon your time; I know how onerous are the duties of a busy clergyman. You will have parish duties, and the sick to visit.”

“I visit the sick on Thursdays, unless the matter is urgent,” said Mr. Valpy complacently. He turned his attention to Camilla, didn’t seem to like what he saw, and then looked at the twins. “Your sisters, I comprehend, Miss Darcy? Are they not also churchgoers?”

Letitia hastened to explain that they often attended service at different places of worship.

He pursed his lips in clerical disapproval. “Families should worship together. Sabbath observance begins and ends with the family, you know. I would strongly advise your esteemed father to bring you all to our service next Sunday. Perhaps if he is at home—”

Camilla had to suppress a laugh at the thought of how her father would react to this absurd man. How could Letty be so civil? The twins had less restraint, and were whispering together on the sofa.

“My parents are presently abroad,” said Letitia.

“But they will have left you in the care of some respectable and watchful relation, surely?” said Mr. Valpy.

Camilla frowned at Letty, who was explaining about the Fitzwilliams; what business was it of the Reverend Valpy’s whose care they were in—or where and how they went to church?