Page 37 of Resilience

“Perhaps five minutes,” Matthew–as he had asked to be called by his wife and new sister–answered.

Elizabeth and Kitty had learnt a great deal from Matthew Denny about Hawthorne Vale and his family background. Matthew was an emergency attempt for an heir late in his father’s life after his elder brother had died in a duel. His father, widowed and no longer in his prime, married the likeliest young lady in his village and wasted no time getting a son from her.

Matthew Denny had been raised under impossible standards, standards which his brother Michael supposedly met, at least in the eyes of their father. “I will never understand it,” he confided in his wife and her sister while traveling in the carriage.

“You might as well both know, you must live in the house with us, you will learn it all eventually. My brother was a scoundrel. He ruined numerous girls, daughters of gentlemen, to say nothing of his behaviour towards women of the lower orders. He drank and gambled to excess, ruined horse after horse with his drunken abuse. My father’s estate was still in debt from his excesses when I entered the militia, and Michael had been dead for more than twenty-five years. According to my mother, our servants, and others who knew our family well, I excelled in every area in which Michael did not, academically, as well as in areas of sportsmanship and gentlemanly conduct. But my father, who loved his first son more than anything, despite his faults, learned eventually to his detriment during my adolescence that I would never be Michael…and he will never forgive me for it.”

Mr Denny senior coped by sending Matthew away to school. When he came home from university a man, wishing to work with his father on their estate, he was purchased a commission and sent away again. That had been two years ago.

“To my understanding, since my mother died not long after my departure for the militia, my father has allowed the estate to fall into neglect, and the income is less than half of the four thousand a year that it was five years ago.”

“Whatever is wrong, we will fix it,” Kitty placed her hand comfortingly upon her new husband’s forearm. “We will fix it together.”

“If there is anything I may do to be useful, you can certainly count upon me,” Elizabeth promised.

“We are approaching the house now.” Matthew said.

Elizabeth rolled her shoulders and neck in anticipation of being freed from the carriage. “As much as I suspect I shall miss Mr Darcy’s carriage once it is gone, I cannot deny that I am all anticipation to escape it now for a long walk.”

“I cannot blame you. My father’s carriage is not so comfortable by half.” Matthew smiled. “I cannot deny that such generous wedding gifts, not only the use of his London home and his carriage, but also his theatre box…well…they made me quite uncomfortable. I would never refuse, Mr Darcy is not the sort of man to which I would deny anything…but…I do not know him well. He is at least five years older than I, and our families have never been close.”

“I believe that is why.” Elizabeth nodded encouragingly as Matthew looked up at her in interest. “Your father is ill, and it is known that your estate needs work. You are soon to be another young landowner in his neighbourhood. I think Mr Darcy wishes to be your friend.”

“He is so stuffy, I adore Miss Darcy, but I should be terrified to entertain him as a hostess.” Kitty looked green at the thought.

“He is reserved, but engaging and kind when he decides he is comfortable near you,” Elizabeth reassured her sister. “I believe that he is shy, though it sounds ridiculous for such a man.”

“Well the friendship of a man like Mr Darcy is welcome. He is known to be knowledgeable about estates and tenant problems, and he seems like a good person,” Matthew finished as the carriage stopped in front of the house.

There were no servants waiting, and so the driver jumped down to open the door of the carriage and lower the step, then pounded upon the front door of the house while Matthew handed down first Kitty, then Elizabeth.

The door opened to reveal a housekeeper in middle age with a sour expression. “Yes?”

“Good afternoon, madam. I am Captain Matthew Denny, and this is my wife, Mrs Denny, and her sister, Miss Bennet. We are expected.”

“Are you sure?” the woman wrinkled her nose rudely. “The master has said nothing.”

“Excuse me, but who are you?” Matthew demanded.

“I am Mrs Chalton, the housekeeper at Hawthorne Vale.”

“What has happened to Mrs Macleod?” Matthew asked in surprise. “Have you not received my correspondence relating to the house?”

“I have, but the master gives the orders here, not relations who send letters,” Mrs Chalton replied, unruffled. “Mrs Macleod was dismissed six months ago.”

Elizabeth began to wonder if they would be admitted at all when another carriage pulled in up to the house. An elderly man stepped out and Matthew hurried over to embrace him.

“Walters! You must come and meet my wife! Kitty, this is my godfather, my father’s oldest friend, Fred Walters. Walters, my wife, Mrs Catherine Denny, and her sister Miss Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire.”

“Your wife, eh, Matthew! That is new. You will have to tell me all about yourself, Mrs Denny, it is lovely to meet you. Matthew, you were smart to come with a wife, you will need all the help you can get.” The gentleman bowed to the ladies.

“It remains to be seen if we will even obtain entrance to the house,” Matthew glared at Mrs Chalton.

“Madam, I sincerely hope you completed the arrangements that I requested three days ago,” Mr Walters addressed the housekeeper as he pushed her out of the way of the door and led them inside. A young footman appeared to take their outerwear and another went outside to help unload their trunks.

“The master requested no-” Mrs Chalton began only to be cut off by the older man.

“Damnation, woman, I told you that your future master was arriving today!” Mr Walters exclaimed. “Now, you know as well as I that your master will be lucky to last another fortnight, and he is out of his damned mind with intolerable pain and senile foolishness! Now, cease making everything more difficult! Go and send tea to the drawing room, and make those rooms ready at once! No more games, Mrs Chalton. Prepare the master and mistress suite at the end of the east wing that belonged to Captain Denny’s grandparents, and there are family chambers in that wing that will suit Miss Bennet admirably. Now make your future master comfortable if you wish to keep your job, woman!”