The truth does Freddie far more credit. It seems that she ran away in an attempt to intercept Miss Lucy Hamilton before Miss Lucy could elope with Mr. Charles Smith. Alas, she failed to overtake the foolish pair; they made their escape and Frederica was apprehended. She would say nothing of the matter—perhaps in some mistaken desire to preserve Miss Lucy’s reputation as far as she could—and so the giddy young ladies at Miss Summers’s have set her up as the heroine in a novel, who flees from a forced marriage.
All of the family here are ignorant of Miss Lucy’s situation. I daresay they will hear from Parklands soon enough, but in the meantime, they all believe that Frederica is entirely in the wrong, and Mrs. Vernon does not hesitate to attribute it to my failure as a parent.
Frederica is with Mrs. Johnson (who has been of some use as a friend and correspondent) and Mr. Vernon has gone to London to persuade Miss Summers to allow Frederica to remain—but if she cannot, I will go up to London as soon as I can make preparations to leave Sussex.
As much as you detest London, my dear Aunt, can I prevail upon you to pass a few months with me at Portland Place? When I tell you the nature of my request, I do not think you will refuse me—but you must prepare yourself for a very great shock. I have very lately come to realize that the happy event that Frederick and I continued to hope for in the years following Frederica’s birth will occur after her father’s death. The significance of this, most particularly if the child should be a son, makes me wish to be safely in town, and in the care of one upon whose counsel and protection I can unreservedly rely. If I believed that I could tolerate the journey to Derbyshire, I would impose upon the hospitality of Ealing Park. I do not think that I am quite strong enough to go beyond London, however, and though Mrs. Forrester manages the household with discretion and skill, and Wilson has been an invaluable companion, your presence would be of immeasurable help and comfort.
I will take no one into my confidence save for Frederica and Wilson, and I beg you, say nothing to James. I will leave Churchill before it can become evident to Charles, who cannot rejoice in the possibility that he might be deposed and thrown back upon the deCourcys’ charity once more. Yet a daughter would be no sacrifice to me. If Freddie is any example, she will be a superior creature in every respect, and, if that should be the case, may I be so bold as to bestow upon her the name of Elinor?
Your affectionate niece,
Susan Vernon
chapter thirty-one
When the first communication from Charles arrived, Lady Vernon was certain that it must bring word of Lucy Hamilton’s elopement. Catherine read through the letter with composure, however, and announced only that Charles had arrived safely in town. Lady Vernon decided that Charles meant to delay, perhaps hoping that someone else would write to his wife and spare him the unpleasant task of communicating the news. She said nothing, therefore, although it was difficult to remain silent while her sister-in-law made pointed allusions to parental neglect and youthful misconduct.
On the second morning after Charles Vernon’s departure, Catherine was handed a letter, which Lady Vernon believed must contain news of Miss Hamilton.
“Is it from my brother?” inquired Reginald.
Catherine’s expression had settled into a puzzled frown. “He writes that Miss Summers will not take Miss Vernon back and that he is bringing her here to Churchill.”
Lady Vernon protested that Charles could not have proposed a scheme that was contrary to her wishes and instructions.
“Perhaps Miss Vernon does not like to remain in London if Sir James Martin is there,” suggested Reginald.
Lady Vernon did not trust herself to reply and rose from the table. From the breakfast-room window, Catherine and Reginald saw her walking away from the house in considerable agitation.
“Such a false show of distress!” cried Catherine in disgust. “What can one say of such a mother! How inexcusable are those women who forget what is due to family and to the opinion of the world!”
“I can only suppose that it distresses Lady Vernon to burden you and my brother with her daughter,” Reginald replied.
“She did not hesitate to burden us with herself when we would rather have gone to Parklands for Christmas. She is only sorry to have Miss Vernon come to us because she would rather have her daughter where she might be thrown together with Sir James. But that is Charles’s way—he is far too generous and compassionate to compel his niece to remain where she must often meet with a suitor toward whom she is evidently opposed.”
“It must always be considered an unpleasant thing to be pushed into a marriage against one’s inclination” was all that Reginald would reply before he excused himself and went outside to find Lady Vernon.
She had walked almost to the boundary of Churchill Pond and was pacing to and fro.
“You must come back to the house. You are very distraught.”
“I am distraught only on my daughter’s behalf.”
“Yet would you have Miss Vernon be tranquil? If she has acted imprudently, it is right that she should feel something like distress.”
“Indeed, she has no cause to feel anything like it,” Lady Vernon replied with some warmth. “She can be blamed for no more than having so little understanding of the world as to be ignorant of how even the most generous impulse can go wrong.”
“What generosity?” Reginald inquired. “She has shown no generosity toward her mother by causing you such anxiety by running away from school.”
“I am very sorry, Mr. deCourcy. There are people who delight in being the bearers of bad news, but I am not one of them—yet my daughter’s conduct must be defended. I have it on very sound authority that Frederica’s motive in running away was to apprehend your cousin, Miss Lucy Hamilton, before Miss Hamilton could elope with Mr. Charles Smith. Frederica was not able to intercept them, and only succeeded in being comprehended in her friend’s folly.”
“What?” he demanded. “Lucy and Charles Smith? It cannot be true! Smith would not impose upon his friendship with our family in such a manner!”
Lady Vernon endeavored to speak more calmly. “Mr. Smith has imposed upon the connection, to be sure, but I cannot think that he would abuse it by inducing Miss Lucy Hamilton to elope with any intention other than marriage.”
“My poor Aunt Hamilton! She will be shocked beyond words!”
Lady Vernon refrained from observing that she did not believe Lady Hamilton had ever experienced any emotion that had put her beyond words. “Lady Hamilton will be very distressed, to be sure, but upon reflection I cannot think that she will be surprised. Even when we were all at Langford, your cousin and Mr. Smith seemed very much attached to one another.”
“Her family wished a much more advantageous union for her,” he said.
“We all wish our daughters to marry advantageously, but at least there is fortune on one side and affection on both. However impulsive her conduct, with so large a fortune, your cousin can afford to marry where she likes.”
“If my cousin and Charles Smith were so resolved upon their course, how can Miss Vernon have hoped to intervene?”
“It is likely that Frederica ran after them with no other thought than how wrong it would be of her to do nothing. My daughter has a very tender heart and would have been very hard upon herself if some harm had come to Miss Hamilton that her intervention might have prevented—from the day of her father’s injury, Frederica had been very conscious of the advantage of immediate action and the consequence of delay. When she came upon her father, to find him lying senseless upon the ground, with Charles rooted in shock and incapable of any exertion, the incident left her very mindful of the necessity for immediate action in any emergency. I can only hope that Charles will not take the opportunity of their journey to resurrect that subject, as it is a very painful one for Frederica and can only stir up unpleasant memories and speculation.”