Chapter 22

Dorian was shocked when he received the express. Contrary to his aunt's instructions, he intended to travel to London forthwith to see about the matter. He may have overlooked Elliot's attentions to his cousin's widow, but he would at least ensure the bounder married her. He took his leave of Lydia the morning after receiving his aunt's letter, promising he would not fight in a duel, and leaving his grandmother's journals in her care, the two promising to read them together when he returned.

His trip was unnecessary, as he found his cousin wed to Mr Elliot upon his arrival in London. Elizabeth sent a letter ahead of him to Montague, and so Lavinia's address was located shortly after he arrived in town. He arrived at the rented rooms in question, not in Piccadilly like Mr Elliot's previous address, but in the farthest, meanest corner of Cheapside. He was informed by the very young maid that Mr Elliot was not at home, and asked to be announced to Mrs Elliot.

The room he entered was small and dingy, with very little furniture, and what little was there was uncomfortable and of poor quality. There was a horse-faced blonde woman with bad teeth present in the room.

Lavinia stood and curtsied to Dorian miserably, "Sir Dorian Goulding, may I present my companion, Mrs Clay?"

"Companion? Mrs Elliot, I was grateful to arrive in town to find you already wed, but I am astonished that your husband has set you up to reside with his mistress. You cannot think that I do not know this woman's identity."

"How on earth would you know anything about me?" asked Mrs Clay, irritatedly.

"We have some acquaintances in common, madam," Dorian answered curtly as he turned to Lavinia and demanded, "Mrs Elliot, when will your husband return home?"

"I do not know; he does not reside here with me!" cried Lavinia. "I had no notion that it would be this way! I only wished to be married and protected! I do not wish to moulder away in some dower house, I wish to have a home and a family! Now I have nothing! He even took my carriage and horses that William left me, and sold them immediately, along with all of my jewellery, and half of my clothes!" The woman burst into tears.

"Would that I could help you." Dorian said sympathetically. "Even if an annulment could be obtained, I know not where you would go. My aunt will not have you back with her. You had a lifetime expectancy in the dower house before you wed, but you will be reviled by Meryton society now. Perhaps your family in Bath might have you to visit, if Aunt Ada does not turn them against you."

He stood and turned to her. "You have made your bed, Mrs Elliot, but please remember, out of respect for my cousin, if you are ever in sincere distress, you may write to me. I cannot promise that I can be of assistance, but for William, I will do my best. Presently, it seems there is little I can do to improve your circumstances. I wish you well, madam." He took his leave, saddened by the sight of the fate of his cousin's wife.

It took Montague two more days of digging to find Elliot's new rooms near Mayfair. The man had wasted no time in setting himself in a grand situation, while keeping his wife and his mistress hidden away in tiny rooms in a mean neighbourhood. There was no point arguing with the man, obviously Dorian would never persuade him to treat his wife better. Perhaps when he ran out of money again, he might be worked upon to sign something promising his wife better conditions. It could not be long; Mr Elliot's habits were excessive. He would ask Mrs Wentworth to keep him apprised of the welfare of Mrs Elliot and her companion. He wished he could call the man out, he certainly deserved it, but he comforted himself by beating him senseless when he found him in his rooms. In a few days, Mr Elliot's face would be as colourful as his clothes.

He then went to Haye Park, and as his aunt had promised, he found the house closed, and the servants at loose ends. There were several estate matters awaiting him in Hertfordshire, and he spent a few weeks there taking care of estate business before heading north again. The local residents all visited him; many families took this opportunity of the absence of Netherfield's household to throw their myriad daughters/cousins/nieces/friends at him. He attended a few dinners and parties, it would not do to be uncivil, but he gave no family any encouragement, and no particular attention to any young lady.

Lydia spent the weeks at Pemberley, attempting to bear Georgiana company. Her friend was inconsolable, and refused to return home to King Oak's Prospect, the estate two hours away that the Radcliffes had purchased after they wed. Georgiana spent hours in the music room playing on the Broadwood Grand, and sitting quietly in Lady Rose's favourite section of the garden with her infant daughter. She also spent hours in the kitchen kneading bread, an activity that she found therapeutic. Vivian was at his wits end to comfort her, and Darcy could only reassure him that they were very welcome at Pemberley for as long as Georgiana required to grieve Lady Rose. If she wished to be near family, and her cherished memories at home, she may stay as long as she wished.

The family planned to be in full mourning for three months, and half-mourning for six, though Lydia, being more distantly related, would observe one month in full mourning and two in half mourning. Lydia had been prepared to mourn as long as the rest of the household, but Georgiana insisted that Granny Rose would have been touched by Lydia's respect, but would not have wished the mourning to delay Lydia's courtship or activities. There were still two more months of full mourning for the rest of the household when one morning in the kitchens, Mrs Pottinger said that she refused to be sad about Lady Rose's passing.

"How can you say that?" cried Georgiana, becoming very distressed indeed by the cook's sentiments.

Mrs Pottinger grew very bold indeed, and reached out to grasp Georgiana's flour covered hands. "Your grandmother's end was just as she would have wished it. She made old bones Mrs Radcliffe; do you know how rare that is for a lady? Your grandmother was more than ninety when she passed! And a life so well lived! I was a young kitchen maid here in her time, did you know that? She was a beauty, your Granny, even in her forties and fifties! Your grandpapa Robert Darcy loved her to distraction, even I knew that, and I was the lowliest kitchen maid! She had a lovely family; she was the loving mistress of a beautiful home! She did so much good for her tenants and the people of the villages, and they loved and respected her! She lived a long life, girl, long enough to see her son find his happiness with your dear mother. Long enough to see your brother and you come into the world, and become fine people! Long enough to see you both find your happiness, and appreciate the beautiful legacy of blessings she left behind! Your Granny died a very old woman, in her bed, with you holding her hand, and a loving family all about her. That is a beautiful thing, Mrs Radcliffe! I refuse to be sad about it, and so should you!"

Georgiana considered the cook's words very carefully for the rest of the day, and finally that night she turned to her husband for comfort, taking joy in just being alive, and the next morning, she woke and gave thanks for her blessings, her life, and her beautiful family. That day marked the turning point for Georgiana, and her family was relieved to see her lay aside her despair and begin to heal.

*****

Dorian had been gone for a month entire by the time he returned to Derbyshire, and Lydia had gone nearly mad in the time that he was gone. Most of the household was subdued, but Elizabeth noticed her sister quietly pining, pushing her food about her plate, and eating poorly, looking tired all the time, and sitting staring out the window silently for hours. She kept herself busy, bearing Georgiana company, assisting Elizabeth with household and tenant matters, giving her nieces and nephew lessons for a month while Mrs Annesley visited her sister. It was obvious that she was unhappy in the young man's absence. Elizabeth hoped that this meant that her sister was in love, and that she might finally marry. The entire family liked Sir Dorian very much, and letters came twice a week from Mama in Sanditon, asking if the man had returned, demanding to be informed immediately if her youngest daughter became engaged.

Lydia was in the music room practising a duet with Georgiana when he finally arrived. She had just finished the last notes of an Italian love ballad when Georgiana cleared her throat and glanced at the doorway, where Dorian was standing, speechless. Considering Lydia's age and practicality, the family did not concern themselves overly about chaperonage with Dorian as long as there were no other guests in the house. Georgiana stood and excused herself, greeting Dorian enthusiastically on her way out, and the young man ran his hand through his raven black hair as he stepped forward and cleared his throat nervously.

"I forgot," he said simply.

"What did you forget?" she asked him, smiling with happiness at his return.

"How beautiful you are.... I think in the back of my mind that my imagination must embellish the truth when we are apart, but every time I see you, I want to gasp out loud." he smiled down at her.

Lydia blushed crimson in pleasure, and was at a complete loss for words. After a moment she glanced up at him and said, "Why is this suddenly so awkward?"

"Because I have missed you so much," he confessed openly.

Lydia blushed even more, then answered, "That must be it then," and took his arm as they entered the hall together.

Darcy and Vivian were glad indeed to see Dorian returned. The house had been too sombre over the last month, and they hoped that the courting couple might lighten the atmosphere for the ladies somewhat. Diane had been vocal indeed that the loss of Lady Rose had interrupted her ability to move in society. She was still only fifteen, but her mother had agreed that she might attend dinners in their house, and other daytime social events in the country this year, to give her some practice before coming out properly. When she was seventeen, she would be allowed to dance at balls in the country, and in town would accompany her mother to daytime events such as luncheons, garden parties, and musicales, much like her aunts had done, in preparation for her debut in three years.

Diane had not hidden her disappointment at the family being in full mourning, and hated wearing black or grey. After one or two particularly insensitive remarks, Darcy had feared that Georgiana might actually slap the girl. It was for the best that a distraction had arrived for everyone, not that Lydia or Dorian wished to provide the family's entertainment.

Lydia and Dorian set to reading his grandmother's journals together. There were thousands of entries over many years, but the entries most pertinent to Demelza's bitter dislike of her eldest son read:

Alverton Place

Cornwall

5 February 1791

Dear Diary,

I am Demelza Trenoweth, and today is my seventeenth birthday. I live in Cornwall, with my parents at Alverton Place. This lovely set of leather-bound journals was a birthday gift from my mother. She thinks that I might like to record my experiences as I come out next month, and I must say, they are very pretty. I feel quite grown up with such fine volumes to fill with my own thoughts! I cannot imagine filling so many books with my memories, but my mother says life is often longer than we expect, and she is sure I will have much to tell.

I am filled with anticipation at finally being allowed to attend dinners and balls, and dance with gentlemen, though I do not believe I will be as popular as mama believes. I am so excited to finally be doing something new. Mama says that my dowry is not terrible, and that my looks are, if not what is en vogue, are at least very striking (in her opinion). I think I am a nasty, freckled thing, but Mama is certain some gentleman might take a shine to my red hair when we go to London in April. I think she is mad.

So far, I have nothing truly worth sharing. Tonight my parents are hosting a dinner for our neighbours to celebrate my coming out. Elizabeth Harris, Nessa Williams, and Catherine Wickett are coming with their parents, and Elizabeth's brother will be home from Oxford! Elizabeth says he is very wild; he got into debt at school, and his father had to pay it. He is not to be permitted any sort of tour now. He is meant to come straight home from school, and learn to manage their estate. If he gives any more trouble, his father will send him into the army, and make his younger brother the heir.

Elizabeth's younger brother Arthur is a boring sort of boy. He would likely do better at running the estate than a rascal, otherwise, there is nothing special or exciting about him.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

6 February 1791

Dear Journal,

The party was a great deal of fun. Mama opened two of the unused drawing rooms, and there was dancing and cards! The entire neighbourhood came, and I was so embarrassed to be the guest of honour!

Elizabeth Harris did bring her brother James, and he is the most handsome man I have ever seen! He simply cannot be as bad as she claims. I have never met a more charming and engaging gentleman! It is simply impossible that he could be a rake or a libertine! Indeed, Elizabeth ought to be ashamed of herself for spreading such a story. I wonder what is the true manner of her dislike of her brother. Perhaps she is holding some petty childhood grudge? There must be some secret resentment for her to have created such a nasty tale about such an amiable brother. I am going to tell her so when I see her again.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

10 February 1791

Well! Of all the rude and discourteous people I have ever met, Elizabeth Harris is the worst of them all! Can you imagine, when I took her to task for her scandalous tales of her brother, that the vicious girl laughed in my face, and told me I am just like every other girl who falls under his spell, and that it will serve me right when I learn what he truly is!

I have never suspected that Eliza Harris hid such a conniving disposition. My eyes are completely opened to her true nature.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

13 February 1791

Last night we attended a ball to celebrate Catherine Wickett's coming out. I should have been quite put out that I only received a dinner, when Cathy had an entire ball, but I was too taken by Mr Harris, that is, Mr James Harris, for the entire evening. I danced the first with my father, it being my first ball, but Mr Harris lost no time in asking for my second, and later, the supper set. I was quite put out that my father was stern and admonished the gentleman not to ask for a third! How could he humiliate me so! If the gentleman has taken an interest in me, why should he not display it openly?

I have never been so taken as I was when I danced with Mr Harris! He says that he has danced the waltz in London, and that he should like to teach me the steps! We dined together after the supper dance, and it was exhilarating to have his attention upon me so openly. My father and mother looked annoyed all evening, but I do not understand why. Mr Elias Harris' estate is very rich, and if I should marry his son, it would be a very good connection, I think. Why all the bother of going all the way to London when everything I desire is here?

Eliza did not speak to me once all evening, the hateful cat.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

14 February 1791

What do you think happened today? I met Mr Harris out on my walk! I love to walk, every day. Mama says I am mad, but Papa believes that walking every day, even in the bitter cold, keeps me hardy and strong, and so I always go out each afternoon unless it is too wet. Today I went by the woods, I suppose I was thinking of him, and their estate lies in that direction. I had not gone far when I came upon him! He said he was coming to pay a call upon me, and to give me his compliments for St Valentine's Day! He said he did not dare stay too long and risk my reputation, but he simply had to see me and present me with a token of his admiration. Hothouses are not plentiful in Cornwall, and the bitter cold will prevent us seeing any blooms for some months, but he pressed a length of beautiful red velvet ribbon into my palm, and vanished into the forest!

Alverton Place

Cornwall

15 February 1791

I went to the woods today, but he did not return. He did not say that he would, but I will return every day in the hopes of meeting him again.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

16 February 1791

He did not come today.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

17 February 1791

He came! He was detained by his father, who is a hard taskmaster at estate matters, but he said he had to return to keep his promise to teach me to waltz!

I was so nervous, I trod on the poor man's feet many times, but he laughed, and said all the better, for it gives us a reason to practise! We walked for nearly an hour after, and he told me all about his time at Oxford. It was not him who created the debts but his friend! His close friend, who he trusted among all others! And then to be disbelieved by one's own father! How crushing! The poor man's sensibilities are in a sad state, and who can blame him?

I have promised to return to the wood each day, and he will meet me whenever he can get away.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

18 February 1791

There is no point in writing unless he comes, or something happens…

Alverton Place

Cornwall

22 February 1791

Nessa Williams came today. She wishes me to apologise to Eliza for my harsh admonitions. Why should I? Nessa says our group is not the same, to which I said that was their fault if they chose to exclude me in favour of Eliza.

Nessa said no one has excluded me, that I have not sought them out as I usually do, nor have I been home to callers, but I will not miss my appointment with Mr Harris for those silly girls. If Eliza's hateful father gives him a moment of peace, I will be there for him to unburden himself in his leisure time.

Nessa says that Eliza must have superior knowledge of her own brother, and that I ought to trust my friends, but Nessa is only jealous because Mr Harris is the best-looking man any of us have ever seen in our lives, and he did not ask her to dance twice! I should not have said that out loud, but I did, and she left in a great huff.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

23 February 1791

My dance master came! I have been humming the tune he hummed, and practising the steps by myself in the glade, and I hope I carried myself with a better degree of credit on this occasion.

When we finished practising our steps, we walked in the wood for an hour. He told me how unhappy he is at home, and how it pains him that his father does not trust him. He thinks he should do something to show his father his maturity, and that he is thinking of taking a wife!

Alverton Place

Cornwall

25 February 1791

I have not been kept waiting long this time. He came to me in all excitement, and told me that he told his father of his desire to marry and settle down, and that his father approves of it! We walked for nearly two hours today, and he told me of his plans to improve the estate, and his hopes for a better relationship with his family. He spoke of his future in such a way that I am sure he means to convey that he intends to share it with me.

If such a thing were in doubt, he would not go until we had practised our dance steps again in the woods, and when we stopped, he kissed me!

What was it like? I cannot say, it happened so quickly, it was over before I realised it had begun, but next time I shall be much more attentive.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

28 February 1791

I have not seen him these last three afternoons, but tonight I caught a glimpse of him at Lady Edgerton's dinner. Her table is far too formal, and we sat miles apart, but every time I looked over, he was looking at me with a positively smouldering expression! Perhaps Mama is correct, and my looks are more striking than I thought. Mama noticed him staring at me after dinner, and she seemed disturbed by it and whispered something to my father, who looked over at him with rather more outrage than I believe was called for. The gentleman was only admiring me.

I was introduced to a Mr Gold, or was it Golding? He is an investor in a mine that my father is also an investor in. He is here to discuss selling his shares, and Papa and Mr Tripcony are rather desperate for some way to change his mind, for his funds are desperately needed. I do not know why I am expected to care about such matters, but I was expected to assist Mama in entertaining the fellow and introducing him among the ladies.

Mr Gold/Golding? Seems quite taken with my ‘striking looks' as well, but he is nothing to me. He is just some old man my father does business with. He must be at least thirty! I swear I heard him complain about a rheumatism at the table!

Alverton Place

Cornwall

1 March 1791

I missed my walk today, because of that hateful man! Mr Goulding called today, and I was obliged to help Mama entertain him. Worse, she invited him to dine with us!

I have a sinking feeling I know what my father is using to persuade Mr Goulding from abandoning his investment.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

3 March 1791

Mr Goulding called again yesterday, and stayed for an interminable amount of time, have they no manners in Herefordshire?

But today I met my dance master in the woods! We danced for nearly an hour today. Mr Harris said he was so weary from his toils on the estate, that he only wished to look upon me, not to talk.

He kissed me again, and this one was worth remembering! It lasted ever so long, and he pulled all my pins out of my hair! I was lucky to get back inside the house without encountering Mama!

Alverton Place

Cornwall

5 March 1791

We promised ourselves to each other today. What followed was more beautiful than anything I have ever experienced in my life. I know what it is to be loved.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

9 March 1791

He has not returned for days. I am filled with despair. What is his evil father doing to keep us apart?

Alverton Place

Cornwall

12 March 1791

My love returned for me today, and when we had expressed our love for one another, we talked for nearly an hour about our future, once his father allows him to marry. He says his father approves of his plan, but that if he knows he has been courting me in secret, he will object. We must wait, and court openly and respectably. He says I deserve to be courted for all to see. I am so humbled by how honourable he is.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

16 March 1791

We quarrelled today. After we gave ourselves to one another again, I pointed out to him that he cannot court me openly if we only meet in the woods. He got extremely offended and said that it was offensive of me to suggest that he was not serious. I said that if he is to court me openly, should he not seek me in my mother's drawing room?

Papa says that our departure to London is likely to be delayed if the matter with Mr Goulding is not settled, but even after such a delay, I am to leave for town in two or three weeks at the most. Does he expect me to go to London and pretend to seek a husband, or will he do something to stop it?

He says I do not understand his father's position, and left me there. I cried in the woods for a half hour before I went home.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

23 March 1791

He has never taken so long to come before. What if I angered him?

Alverton Place

Cornwall

27 March 1791

He came today, and said he was surprised to find me there, considering I do not trust him anymore. It was not until he had taken me in haste, then left me there without so much as a tender word that I realised it is true. I am not certain that I trust him anymore. How could he treat me so callously?

Alverton Place

Cornwall

29 March 1791

I have been thinking about going to speak with my father. Perhaps he can speak with Mr Harris, and convince him to allow James and I to wed. His father is such a hard man, but perhaps if another man went to speak with him, he would be reasonable. I certainly cannot go to London and seek a husband when I have given a man my promise. Would it not be more convenient and less expensive if I were to find a wealthy and well-connected husband here at home? My dowry is not shabby. I am certain that I am good enough for James.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

2 April 1791

It is all ruined. Everything. My romance. My life. My father told me today that he would like me to seriously consider a match with Mr Goulding. He is not terrible looking for an older man, and he has a comfortable estate in Hertfordshire. When I objected to being used as a pawn for his business, and told him that I had made my promise to another, so I cannot in any conscience encourage Mr Goulding, Papa's rage was terrifying. I was dragged to my room and locked in, and later my mother came to me, and interrogated me until I confessed the true nature of my relationship with James. I saw Papa tear away from the house upon his horse shortly after, and when he came home, he was in an even worse temper. I cannot see how any of it can be mended now. Perhaps tomorrow will be different. Perhaps tomorrow James will arrive to ask Papa for my hand, and then they might let me out of my room.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

3 April 1791

Mama came to inform me today that I cannot be married to James because he has been engaged to Catherine Wickett of the twenty-five-thousand-pound dowry since his childhood. I told Mama that this could not be true, because surely Catherine would have spoken of it.

Mama said that Catherine likely did not know of the matter herself, for the engagement had existed since she was three years old and is contingent upon James inheriting his father's estate. I am ruined. Now Mama says we must fear that I might be with child. I had no idea that could happen if I was not married.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

10 April 1791

I am to be married to Mr Goulding. Papa has a common licence, and we are to wed tomorrow, and leave for Herefordshire tomorrow. I hardly care anymore.

Alverton Place

Cornwall

11 April 1791

I am married.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

18 April 1791

We have arrived in a place called Meryton, in the county of Hertfordshire. He has not been unkind, nor imposed himself upon me. He says we should take time to know one another better.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

11 August 1791

The symptoms Mama warned me of have been making themselves known for many weeks. Today I had the quickening. I had to tell poor Frederick. He has been so kind to me, and he still has not come to my rooms. He says he is waiting for me to invite him.

I wonder if he only wanted to be sure our first child was his. It will not be. He told me that he will not expect me to invite him to my bed until I have had the child and recovered.

I wonder if he finds my carrying another man's child disgusting. I certainly do.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

20 November 1791

It is a boy. I have never felt so filled with such self-loathing in all my life. Frederick has been so kind to me, and his reward is that his first born is another man's son. To perfect the day, there was an announcement in the papers. Mr Harris has married Catherine Wickett. In addition, I learned from the servants' whispers that my husband's estate is entailed on this abomination. I wish we had both died in childbed.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

23 November 1791

Frederick begs me to nurse the boy, who he has named Franklin, but I cannot bear to touch the child. Frederick says I should not blame the babe, he is innocent, but I cannot look at it. It looks too much like him . I will not have it in the house. He has been sent to one of the tenants until he is weaned. Frederick says he must return to the house then, and that I must visit him weekly, or there will be talk.

My mother still writes weekly, but I do not answer or even read them. I am so mortified by what I have done, I do not want to hear any news from Cornwall.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

16 December 1791

Frederick worries because I have not left my bed. I am supposed to be in confinement, but he thinks I should be up and moving around my rooms. I do not feel like it.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

3 January 1792

Frederick has demanded that I leave my bed to be churched. I do not see why I must. He says I must leave my bed, and take calls from the local women, and attend church, or there will be rumours. I have told him that I am too unwell.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

18 January 1792

I have been churched, but only to make him stop complaining.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

5 February 1792

He attempted to drag me from my bed today. I cried and begged him to leave me. I am too unwell to leave my rooms. I am so tired; I only want to sleep. I cannot bear being awake. He says that it is unseemly for me not to visit the babe, that the village will talk.

I said that there is no need for the village to talk, if I am unwell, it is hardly my fault! He said that I know I am not truly unwell, but I am! Why would I be so tired all the time if I were not ill? He attempted to force me into my dressing room, and I cried and told him that he was a hateful man to be so cruel to me on the anniversary of the day I met that devil that ruined my life. He begged my pardon and left me.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

27 February 1792

He has not returned to my rooms in all this time. He must have finally seen me for the pathetic creature that I am. He visited every day before, but now that he realises how low I have become he stays away, I cannot blame him.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

7 March 1792

My mother arrived today. When she entered my rooms, I threw a vase at her. When she did not leave, I screamed and screamed, and threw everything on my vanity. I do not want to see her.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

8 March 1792

She attempted to visit me again. I have broken nearly everything I own.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

9 March 1792

Guess who visited my rooms today, after nearly a month? He came to chastise me for my behaviour, and I chastised him for calling my mother here, of all people! How dare he? Nothing that happens here is any of her business, and if I wish not to see her, it is entirely my own affair.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

31 March 1792

No one has visited my room in some time. Only the maid comes now. She tells me that my mother has returned to Cornwall. Bully for her. I am still so tired. All I wish to do is sleep.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

14 April 1792

He visited me today and told me that we are leaving for the north tomorrow. He must go on a business trip to the Peak District, to see about a mill he might invest in. He says he will not make me visit the boy, but I must accompany him north. I screamed at him to leave me alone. He said that a bath would be sent up to my rooms that night, and that if I did not bathe and prepare myself to leave by dawn, he would enter my rooms and drag me to the carriage in my night rail.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

15 April 1792

I sensed that he was serious, and when he entered my rooms this morning, he did so with a grim determination. I do not want to go, but nor do I wish to be humiliated in front of the staff, so I was dressed and ready.

London

17 April 1792

He did not warn me that we were to stay in London for two weeks before leaving for the north. He says I must order some new clothes before we travel. He kept me at the modiste all day today, and because I was not enthused, and had no opinions, he chose all of my clothes.

He has very good taste. And he is shockingly generous too. We visited the milliner, the shoemaker and a marvellous haberdashery. We also went to an enormous book shop. He says we will be alone in the carriage for many days, and will require material to read to each other.

On the Road from London to the north

1 May 1792

We are finally headed north. I am interested to see the Peak district. It is awkward to be alone in the carriage with him all day, but he keeps me busy by making me read to him. He says it soothes his head. I told him that he can read tomorrow. He made me read today until my voice was hoarse.

The Peak District

5 May 1792

The Peak District is ever so lovely! Frederick has meetings nearly every morning, but he makes time for me every afternoon. We have visited some great houses, they were astonishing! I hate to admit it, but he is great fun when we are climbing the peaks and enjoying the scenery.

I do not know why I thought him so old. He is everything amiable, and not too old at all. In fact when I caught him admiring my figure in my new pink frock today, he was almost handsome.

The Peak District

29 May 1792

We are moving on from the peaks, but he says he is enjoying travelling so much that he has a great desire to visit the Lake District, so we are travelling north again.

He made me a lovely gift today, a sketch of me standing on a cliff with my skirts blowing all about me. I was touched that he took the time to draw something so lovely and make it a present to me.

An inn on the road to The Lakes

1 June 1792

We have been held up by rain. Worse, we were obliged to stop at a shabby little inn, and they only had one room! Worse, the room did not even have a couch or anywhere for him to sleep!

I was nervous indeed when it came time to retire, but he was terribly kind and comforting. He did not impose upon me in any way, but in the night, it was I who imposed upon him! When I was a child, I was terrified of thunderstorms, and I would scream and have nightmares, and even sleepwalk!

Last night, there was thunder, and this morning when I woke, I was curled tightly in his arms! He apologised, and explained that while the storm did not wake me, that it distressed me, and that I had wept in my sleep, and sought safety in his arms. He said he could not think of what else to do but hold me. I cannot recall when I have been so embarrassed.

An inn on the road to The Lakes

4 June 1792

It is almost impossible to believe that it is still raining. I cannot even remember how many days we have been here. Frederick has borrowed a chess set from the innkeeper, and is teaching me to play. Now that he has me as his captive, he questions me endlessly about my preferences on everything from whether I like spinach, to my favourite flavour ice. When he learned that I have never had an ice, he promised we would go to London just to sample as many as I desire before we return to Meryton. I feel as if we know everything about each other now.

An inn on the road to The Lakes

6 June 1792

It is shocking how quickly one can fall unexpectedly in love with one's own husband. Last night there were thunderstorms again, and I woke in the night and in my distress, demanded a very different kind of comfort, and my husband obliged!

He begged my pardon this morning. I was shocked when he said that he had been weak after spending the week in bed with me, but that he should have been more gentlemanly, and apologised for taking advantage of me. I certainly did not mind, and told him I had no complaints.

I must admit that I recall every glorious moment, and I do not feel very taken advantage of at all. The feeling when he held me in his arms and the thunder crashed, and the room lit up with lightning was more moving than anything I have ever experienced. I am certain I shall never be afraid of thunder again. I confessed my feelings, and never expected such joy from him. He said that he loved me from the first moment he saw me, that nothing was more important to him than my happiness. I feel like I do not deserve such sentiments. When we arose from our bed this morning, the sun was out, and the rain had finally stopped.

Somewhere on the road to The Lakes

8 June 1792

We are finally to continue to the Lakes. I have no time for more.

Somewhere on the road to Bath

21 July 1792

We have left the lakes and now head to Bath for a few weeks. Frederick has some relations there he wants to visit before he returns home for the harvest. I swear sometimes it seems like the man is determined to see the whole kingdom in one summer. I have neglected my memoirs shamefully, but it is my experience that married women have no time for writing. Frederick keeps me so busy with my wifely duties that I scarcely have time to think.

Our little cottage by the lakes was snug. We managed with only a cook maid who came once a day for some light scrubbing and to leave us with a meal, and otherwise we did for ourselves. Having such a lovely time alone with Frederick has made me see how immeasurably blessed I am.

I have only one more thing to wish for. A son. A proper son for Frederick. He has spoken to me of the matter several times. That he loves me, and that he takes my son as his own with his whole heart, but I cannot bear to think of him never having a proper son of his own. I pray for it every night.

London

27 August 1792

We had a delightful month in Bath, and now we are in London to sample the ices. I laughed out loud when he told me he had remembered his promise, I had quite forgotten.

My favourite flavour is lemon, and so is Frederick's. We return to Haye Park tomorrow, Frederick must return for the harvest, and it is time I turned my attention to caring for his home, and being a good wife to him.

I am still not with child.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

1 May 1793

Frederick found me sobbing over my rags this morning in the dressing room. I have never been so mortified. He says it does not signify, but I am devastated that I have yet to be blessed.

Worse, the boy is now eighteen months old, and must return to the house now he is entirely weaned. I cannot bear to have him here, but Frederick says that we must.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

12 December 1793

I have lost a boy. I can see that Frederick is filled with sorrow. He deserves a proper son. I have to give him one. I will give him one.

The boy has been screaming in the nursery for days. It seems he never stops wailing. The nurse says he is teething. I wish Frederick would let me send him away.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

3 September 1794

We have lost another boy. There was an announcement in the papers last month that Catherine Harris has given birth to twin boys. What have I done to deserve this?

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

17 November 1795

I have lost another child. A daughter. I cannot bear it.

Haye Park

Meryton, in Hertfordshire

4 April 1797

We have done it! I have a son! He is beautiful and strong. He is named for his wonderful father; I have insisted upon it. Frederick tries to convince me that it would have been just as well if we had a girl, but I know he is secretly delighted.

He insisted on bringing that horrible boy into the room to see his ‘brother,' and can you imagine the nasty child actually sneezed on the babe! I screeched for him to be taken away, and he is not allowed near my child again. Frederick really must agree to send him away now.