Recollections of Rosings (6 page)

    Even as they made their plans, Rebecca could not fail to sense the feelings that assailed her sister. Although she went about the business of sorting and packing their things with an enviable degree of composure, there was no mistaking her anxiety, for it was clear that Dr Whitelaw was no longer optimistic in his hopes for his patient's return to health.

    Dr Harrison himself, having accepted the inevitability of retirement, began now to take his own condition seriously. He kept to his apartments upstairs, taking all his meals there, causing Lilian or Catherine or sometimes both to be on hand when he partook of them and frequently sending instructions to the cook for some variation or improvement to the menu. There were also interminable discussions as to the efficacy or otherwise of the various medications prescribed by the doctor. Although she never complained of it, Rebecca could clearly see her sister's exasperation and weariness.

    One evening, after a particularly difficult day, Rebecca found her sister close to tears in Dr Harrison's study. She had been poring over a folder filled with papers and had extracted a number of bills, which had obviously arrived some time before her husband was taken ill.

    When Rebecca, standing in the doorway, asked, "Cathy, what is it? I can see you are worried and anxious. Please tell me, is there any way I can help?" Catherine had abandoned the pretence of composure and wept.

    Her sobs, so violent that her shoulders shook as she laid her head upon her arms, took Becky by surprise and she rushed to her side. Not since the death of their father, when they were both young girls, had Rebecca seen her sister give vent to her feelings with such intensity. Catherine had always been calm and composed, like their mother Charlotte. Seeing her thus was for Becky a most disconcerting and painful experience.

    But she was both warm-hearted and generous of spirit and putting her arms around her sister, pleaded to be allowed to help.

    "Dear Cathy, please do not weep, it will only make you ill. Please, please tell me what troubles you and let me help. Is it money?" she asked, pointing to all the bills that lay upon the desk in front of them, and when Catherine nodded, she continued, "Money is no object, Cathy. Mr Tate allows me an exceedingly generous allowance of which I use very little. I am not extravagant and have most things I need already, which means much of the money is saved. I can draw some of it out for you, as much as is required to settle these accounts—you need only tell me how much you require."

    Catherine did not lift her head at first, but gradually her sobs eased, and at last she took out her handkerchief and dried her eyes. She looked anxious and exhausted.

    Seeing her, Becky's eyes filled with tears.

    Slowly, haltingly, Catherine explained that there were many bills unpaid, some dating back a month or two, now already overdue!

    "Becky, I know he would not have let things come to this; it must have been that he was not himself—perhaps he was already ill and did not know it or, if he did, did not wish to alarm us by speaking of it. Now he must retire; we shall have much less money, yet I must find the means to pay these accounts. I will not have it said that we left the parsonage with bills unpaid and in debt to shopkeepers and tradesmen," she said, her voice still shaking.

    Rebecca was relieved. "If that is all that has been troubling you, why it is nothing at all. Cathy dear, we shall have these accounts settled within the week."

    After protesting at first that she could not accept, Catherine was persuaded that it was by far the best way out of her difficulties. She expressed her gratitude, promising to repay every penny, if it took her ten years to do so.

    "I shall only accept if it is regarded as a loan," she insisted. "I do have some

money of my own—Lady Catherine was very generous to me both when I was married and in her will—but much of it is invested in bonds. As soon as I am able, I shall start to repay you; dear Becky, it is not that I am not grateful, I do appreciate your kindness, but I will not take your money outright. Furthermore, you must promise me that this will remain forever our secret; no one must ever know."

    Rebecca agreed readily and over the next few days all of the outstanding accounts were settled, to the great relief of her sister, and her creditors, no doubt.

    During this period, the matter of Lilian's romance slipped into the background, as the plans for their removal to the Dower House came to fruition. Dr Harrison was, at Mr Benson's suggestion, first transported in a carriage to rooms in the East Wing of Rosings, where he was spared the bustle, dust, and noise of moving house. When everything was in place, he was conveyed to the Dower House, where the best suite of rooms had been prepared for him.

    The house was both more elegant than and as comfortable as the parsonage had been, and Mr Benson had ensured that everything had been satisfactorily arranged, exactly as Mr Jonathan Bingley had specified.

    Dr Harrison seemed content, though he did point out that his study was not quite as commodious here, and Catherine was pleased with both the house and the garden. Even Mrs Giles the housekeeper was delighted with the kitchen and servants' accommodation, which was far less Spartan than it had been at the parsonage.

    As for Lilian, she wandered in and out of her pretty new room, her eyes shining with pleasure, unable to believe that what had begun as a piece of dire misfortune should have ended so agreeably.

    Writing in her diary, she noted:

The arrival at Rosings of two gentlemen from London was to keep Mr Adams so busy over the next few days that the family at the Dower House saw him but rarely.

    Rebecca remarked upon it to Lilian and Catherine as they sat reading in the parlour.

    "We have not seen Mr Adams in some days; his visitors must be very important persons," she said. "I was walking alongside the lane that goes down to the village this morning, and I thought I saw Mr Adams drive past in a curricle with another gentleman—a very tall, distinguished-looking man, much taller than Mr Adams; but they were gone so quickly I could not get more than a glimpse of him," she said, adding curiously, "I wonder who it could be."

    Catherine could provide no answer to her question. She knew of no gentleman, tall or otherwise, who might be riding in a curricle with Mr Adams, she said. And if Lilian knew anything about it, she was keeping her own counsel, concentrating her attention wholly upon her book.

    Rebecca persisted. "Has Mr Adams not mentioned his name to you in conversation, Lilian?"

    Lilian, cognisant of her aunt's curiosity, replied quietly, "No, he has not, Aunt. Indeed I know only that two gentlemen were arriving to look over the Rosings estate and Mr Adams expected he would be very busy answering all their questions. That, I am afraid, Aunt Becky, is all I know of the matter," she concluded, before returning to her book.

    Though unsatisfied, Rebecca could proceed no further along that track.

    A day or two later, while taking a walk in the woods that surrounded the Rosings estate, she saw in the distance two people she thought she recognised. They were, she was almost certain, Mr Adams and Lilian, strolling together through the trees. She recognised him by his coat, which she had seen often when he visited the parsonage, and knew she could not be mistaken in his companion, for the lady was wearing the pretty new bonnet her niece had worn to church on Sunday.

    They appeared to be deep in conversation, quite oblivious of her presence, and Rebecca thought it best to avoid meeting them face to face. Turning down another path, she made her way back to the house. Once there, she decided it was prudent not to tell her sister what she had seen, lest it should cause her to worry. She had no way of knowing if Catherine had any knowledge of her daughter's friendship with the gentleman and wished not to add to her sister's present concerns.

    She did, however, write again to Emily Courtney, describing in some detail her recent observations.

    She put the unfinished letter aside, expecting she would have more news to impart in a day or two, when Mr Adams, free of his interlocutors, would return to visiting them regularly as before.

    It was on the Sunday following their removal to the Dower House that they were returning from church, with Rebecca, Lilian, and Catherine all engaged in animated conversation about the dramatic sermon preached by the visiting chaplain who had conducted the service at Hunsford.

    Taking for his text the parable of the woman taken in adultery, he had railed against those who would cast the first stone, while their own lives were far from exemplary.

    "I cannot think why he chose such a text," said Rebecca.

    "I believe he means to astonish us all," said Lilian. "He must think the people of this parish need waking up."

    Catherine agreed, "Well, he certainly did that. I saw at least two people who had dozed off start and sit bolt upright again!"

    She did not add that it was quite likely many of them had been accustomed to taking a little sleep during Dr Harrison's sermons, long and erudite as they always were. Catherine was far too loyal to say that.

    They had almost reached their gate when Mr Adams and another man appeared, coming towards them from the direction of Rosings.

    "It's him!" whispered Rebecca quickly, "it's the tall man I saw in the curricle with Mr Adams last week."

    The stranger was certainly tall and had a short, thick beard in the popular style affected by Mr Dickens, but it was the clean-shaven Mr Adams who came forward to greet them with a cheerful smile.

    "Good morning, ladies, what a very fortuitous meeting this is; we were just coming to call on you. Mrs Harrison, Mrs Tate, and Miss Lilian Harrison, may I introduce Mr Frank Burnett, who is here to advise us on restoring and conserving what is left of the Rosings heritage."

    Rebecca noticed a degree of gallantry in the manner in which Mr Burnett greeted each of them in turn, claiming he was delighted to meet them. She decided, from observing his general demeanour and dress, that he must have spent some time in Europe, a fact that was soon attested to by Mr Adams, who explained to the ladies that Mr Burnett was a very experienced authority on antiquities, who'd spent many years of study in France and Italy. So interested was Rebecca in this information that she did not notice the look of absolute astonishment that crossed her sister's countenance as Mr Burnett greeted her and took her extended hand.

    As they walked up the path, Lilian, assuming they would all come into the house, hurried ahead to alert Mrs Giles and order tea for the visitors, while Mr Adams chatted on to her aunt. As for Mr Burnett, apart from his first courteous greeting, he said little as he walked beside the ladies, hands clasped behind his back, appearing rather to observe and listen, while John Adams talked enthusiastically of the prodigious task that lay ahead.

    Once within, Catherine excused herself and left them to hurry upstairs to Dr Harrison. The regular nurse did not come in on Sundays and Catherine was anxious to ensure he was comfortable. Finding him asleep, she returned to the parlour just as the tea was brought in. Grateful for something to do, she sat down to dispense it and as she was pouring out tea for Mr Adams, she heard him say to her sister, "I learned only yesterday that Mr Burnett had once, quite some years ago, been employed as the librarian at Rosings."

    This extraordinary piece of information was met with incredulity, as both Lilian and Rebecca looked at one another and turned to Catherine.