Mistress Mary and the General: A Pride and Prejudice Inspired Story Read online

  “His name is Adam and his mother is laundry mistress here, only she has gone to Newcastle to nurse her sister who is ill. She decided it would be best if the lad remained behind, but I’m certain she never anticipated this happening.”

  “No, I would quite agree. Where is the lad’s father?”

  “Pressed into service, sir. They haven’t heard from him in some time.”

  Richard rubbed his chin as he considered what had been said. It was obvious to him who the culprit was, having seen Beardsley stepping from the shadows the previous evening. “Well, you have secured the lad one night, but we must leave today. Is there no one here who can watch over him?”

  Shaking his head, O’Toole grimaced. “I can’t say there is anyone I would trust, or who could stand against an Earl, sir.”

  “Then all that remains is to find a way for him to accompany us.” Richard stood and crossed to the window, attempting to ignore his valet’s surprised expression.

  “But how?” O’Toole asked hopefully.

  “I shall think on it. I must breakfast with James before we leave. Perhaps something will come to me then.” He patted the servant upon the shoulder. “Come, help me ready myself and we shall discuss what young Adam might do at Pemberley.”

  ***********

  The sun was still low in the sky when Richard entered the breakfast parlour. James had not arrived, but serving platters filled the sideboard. Taking up a plate, he began uncovering dishes and making his selections. The door behind him opened and he turned to see who entered.

  “You appear as though you wished to remain in bed this morning, James.” Richard returned to his task as his brother approached and poured a cup of coffee.

  “My bed was enticing this morning,” Lord Matlock smiled surreptitiously as he raised his cup and blew across the surface. Taking a sip, he leaned against the nearest wall and watched his younger sibling. “You remain determined to leave today?”

  Richard’s head swivelled in his direction. “You need ask? I was brought here under false pretences. You yourself said you did not expect me to come; why should I remain?”

  “Then you also remain determined not to consider what we discussed?” He took a deep draw from the cup and savoured the rich flavour.

  Watching his brother, Richard wondered if he had ever before noticed how single minded James could be. Single minded and completely self-absorbed. Even Miss Singleton could see Richard would never agree to be part of this ridiculous scheme. Without answering, Richard carried his plate to the table and took his seat.

  After pushing away from the wall and perusing the offerings, James joined his brother, nibbling on a fresh sweet roll.

  “Be careful, James. Sweets always were your weakness.” Richard used his knife to indicate the morsel. “They did Father in.”

  “Itching to take over the Earldom?” James asked with a brow arched. “I never thought you mercenary, Brother.”

  A harsh bark of laughter echoed about the room and Richard shook his head before tucking into his meal. “I do not want your title, James. I would hate to be the one to put Matlock back to rights after what it has become,” he muttered under his breath.

  “And what is meant by that? Matlock is thriving, the coffers are full; there is no financial scandal as with so many others.” James took another sip of coffee and set the cup on its saucer before turning his gaze on his brother. “What do you think you know, Richard?”

  Taking a deep breath, Richard laid his utensils upon his plate and folded his hands in front of him. “I know that your guests wander the halls at night, looking to take advantage of the servants you are to be protecting. But you would not be aware of such things as you were enjoying your slumbers.”

  A look of confusion flitted across James’s eyes before the light of understanding replaced it. “You must have heard something regarding Beardsley.”

  “You knew? And you invited him to Matlock?” The outrage was clear on Richard’s countenance.

  “There is legislature which must pass come this autumn and Beardsley has the connections I lack.” Lord Matlock took another sip of coffee and brushed a few crumbs from the cloth in front of him.

  Richard’s lip curled in disgust. “And you are willing to allow a young lad to purchase those votes for you? If it is that important to you, I am surprised you do not bend over and take it yourself.” Throwing his serviette upon the table in disgust, he stood. “Father never would have allowed this.”

  Finally showing some emotion, James jumped to his feet and, splaying his fingertips upon the table, leaned toward his brother. “Father never would have introduced the motions I have. He was complacent to allow things to remain the way they have been. Things are changing in this country, and I want to insure they change for the better.”

  “Whose better, James?” Richard stepped closer to the table. He had never before seen this side of his brother. “Yours and the ton’s? Your tenants’? Your servants’?”

  “I see the inequality in our society, Richard.” He laughed harshly, “My God, the very reason I requested your presence was due to my bowing to the ton’s expectations. But not in this. Our nation cannot continue in this manner; on the backs of those who, but for the station into which they were born, could be great men. I must court the Lords with the most influence in order to improve the situation of those who could potentially lead our nation in the future.”

  “And one or more children losing their innocence means nothing to you?”

  “Better their innocence then their lives.” James dropped heavily into his chair and, for the first time, Richard noticed the signs of fatigue which clung to his brother. “I was not aware that a child was harmed, but I cannot honestly say what I would have done had I known.”

  Richard returned to his seat. “He was not. O’Toole intervened.” James’s eyes opened wide in alarm and Richard chuckled softly. “Do not fret, he simply spirited the lad away without Beardsley’s knowledge.”

  “And now?” James asked, knowing his brother would not leave it at that.

  Taking a deep breath, Richard leaned forward. “The lad shall return to Pemberley with us until his mother returns to Matlock. You shall find a reason.” He stood and turned toward the door.

  “Richard, your food.”

  “I have lost my appetite. Good day, James.” The door closed behind him and Richard took a deep breath before taking the stairs two at a time. His desire to leave Matlock growing with every step.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Young Adam Turner stood in the stable yard gazing up in awe at the massive beasts before him. “I ain’t ne’er rode a ‘orse before,” he said softly to the man at his side.

  “Ach, there’s nothing to it, lad. You’ll be riding with me. General Fitzwilliam will most likely ride ahead. He’s an excellent horseman; he’s considering breedin’ ‘em.” O’Toole laid a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  At that moment, Richard Fitzwilliam appeared around the side of the stables, leading his own steed to the mounting block. “Are we ready, O’Toole? I desire to be away from this place.” He turned and looked up at his family seat; no longer could he call it a home.

  “Aye, I was just reassuring young Adam. The lad’s not ridden before and the beasts are a bit large compared to his small frame.” The valet moved toward his horse; looking over the tack, tugging here and there to make certain all was secure.

  Immediately Richard noticed the lad appeared younger than he had expected. A look of disgust crossed his features as he thought of Beardsley’s intentions toward the boy. Too late, he saw the child flinch and realized his expression had been misinterpreted. Quickly replacing the grimace with a welcoming smile, Richard motioned for the boy to come closer.

  “The first thing to learn, Adam, is how to approach the horse.” He led the lad to within a few feet of his mount and patted the horse’s neck. “Always approach from the left front, at an angle, and it is best to speak softly to them.” He lowered his voice, �
��They are a bit like ladies, you know, even the stallions like Vulcan here; they do not appreciate being startled. You want to let them know you are coming, but not so loudly as to surprise them.”

  He took the boys hand and lifted it toward the horse’s nose. Adam’s arm tensed and Richard thought he might draw away. “They learn you by your scent.”

  Vulcan lifted his head, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the small hand before him. The scent was mixed with that of his master’s and the horse took a step forward. Adam attempted to move away, but Richard’s hand held tight to his shoulder. Reaching into his pocket, he slipped the boy a few apple slices. “Hold your hand out with the apple on your palm. Make sure to keep your fingers out of the way. You do not want him to think they are carrots.”

  Adam’s eyes grew large, but he did as he was instructed and Vulcan accepted the treat, before bobbing his head as if in gratitude. A smile spread across the lad’s countenance as he relaxed, and Richard patted him on the shoulder. “He will allow you to pet him now. He likes to be scratched right about here.” Richard rubbed a patch on the horse’s neck.

  Tentatively, Adam stepped closer to the animal which was more than three times his size and reached up to run his fingers over the area. His smile grew broader and Richard nodded proudly. “Good. Now, since you will be riding with O’Toole, you must do the same with Labraid. Step back slowly from Vulcan so as not to frighten him, and then you may go to your mount.”

  The boy released a nervous giggle. “Frighten ’im?”

  Richard chuckled. “It does seem odd that a creature this size would be frightened by a mite like you, but he might rear and buck if he thinks you mean him harm.”

  When the boy was a few steps from Vulcan, Richard handed him a few more pieces of apple to present to Labraid. He stepped closer to his mount and watched as Adam nervously closed the distance between the horses, exchanging knowing glances with his valet.

  As Adam approached, O’Toole tightened his grip on his horse’s lead. Everyone watched as the young lad did exactly as he had been shown. He was obviously a quick learner.

  Labraid watched the approaching figure, completely unintimidated. As though bored, he sniffed the lad’s hand and waited patiently for the treat to be offered. In a magnanimous gesture, he lowered his head to be scratched, before lifting it abruptly and turning aside.

  “Don’t mind him, lad. What can you expect from the Lord of the Underworld,” O’Toole said as he patted the animal’s flank.

  Adam startled a bit. “Underworld? Why would you call ‘im that?”

  Richard’s laugh rang out from behind them as he pulled himself into the saddle. “O’Toole has always thought it better to master the Devil than for the Devil to master him.”

  “That’s right.” The older servant waved the boy closer. With a smooth motion, he lifted the lad onto the horse before swinging up behind him.

  Watching as Adam’s eyes grew large once more when he looked down at the ground, Richard had to suppress another laugh. “You are showing a natural ease with the horses, Adam. Perhaps one day you might be a groom.”

  The boy’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at the General and he took hold of the mane as O’Toole showed him. The group began their way across the fields, increasing their speed as they moved away from the house. The wind lifted Adam’s hair and his smile grew.

  ***********

  The warm summer breeze appeared to nudge the branches of the trees, but was barely felt by the party sitting in the shade below. Richie turned over the bat he held, and released a long sigh of boredom.

  Mary coughed in an attempt to suppress her laughter. “Are you well, Richie?”

  He startled a bit and looked at her quizzically. “Of course, Mistress Mary.”

  “Pardon me, I only ask as you appear a bit out of sorts.”

  The young boy stood and came closer to where she sat by the tree trunk before dropping down beside her. “I wanna play cricket, but it’s too hot. When will Pa be back? He promised to show us more places to play. I bet he knows somewhere cooler.” His eyes brightened. “Perhaps we could go swimmin’ like Cousin Darcy did.”

  Unable to restrain her amusement at the thought of her brother-in-law’s unintentional dip in the lake, Mary laughed as she shook her head. “I do not believe Darcy meant to do so, and it would be your father’s decision as to whether you are old enough to go in the water.”

  “Cousin Darcy said Papa planned to return today.” William took up his lemonade and sipped it thoughtfully. “Why did Papa leave, Mistress Mary?”

  “I believe he received a letter from his brother, your uncle. I suppose it was important business that drew him away without explanation.”

  “Mama seemed worried about him,” Janet said matter-of-factly.

  Tossing her an annoyed glance, William shook his head. “Papa is the best rider, there’s no reason to worry.”

  Janet shook her head vigorously so that her curls bounced about her shoulders. “Oh no, Mama knows Cousin Richard can ride. She said she thought he was being trapped.”

  “Trapped? Pa was in the Army. No one can trap him.” Richie folded his arms across his chest and frowned at his older cousin.

  Shrugging, Janet took up a biscuit and leaned back against the tree, allowing her gaze to drift up through the branches. “Do you think it is cooler up there? See how the leaves are moving? There’s wind up high.”

  William looked out over the fields, no longer listening to those around him as they began to beg Mary to allow them to climb the tree. Only her calling his name broke his reverie.

  “William, please take charge of your brother. Mrs. Hampton has not yet returned from the house, and Beth and Patience have fallen asleep on my lap. I do not wish to disturb them.” Mary watched as the oldest boy shook off his daze and turned to see Richie making a retched attempt to gain the lowest branches of the tree.

  “Come on, Janet,” he said as he stood. “It was your idea. Let’s see if we can get him up to that branch.” He pointed to a low hanging limb.

  The eldest cousins took hold of the younger and lifted him between them as he stretched his arms toward the sky. Mary chewed lightly on the inside of her cheek so they would not see her mirth. They appeared certain they were oh, so near; but she could see they required several feet of growth before they could potentially reach the branch. Suddenly, Richie’s arms fell to his side and he began wriggling about.

  “Stop it, Richie! We’re going to drop you!” Janet yelled as she struggled to hold the child.

  “Pa! Pa!” Richie broke free from his cousins and fell the short distance to the ground, landing in a heap. Jumping up, he began running down the hill toward the approaching horses, the other children close behind him.

  Beth and Patience had begun to stir at Richie’s shouts and sat up to see what was occurring as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes. Seeing the figures moving toward them and recognizing her father, Beth leapt to her feet, dragging her cousin with her.

  A hand settled on Mary’s shoulder as she made to rise. “I am certain they shall come to us,” Mrs. Hampton said as she gazed out over the field with a sweet smile upon her face.

  Mary studied her countenance and glanced toward the riders, a sneaky suspicion entering her mind. “I have always thought a gentleman appears to his best on horseback,” she stated simply and waited for her companion’s response.

  “Oh yes,” a rosy hue coloured the nurse’s cheeks, just before she frowned. “But it appears someone rides with him.”

  Returning her attention to the gentlemen, Mary noticed a small figure perched in front of Mr. O’Toole. It appeared to be a young boy. As they drew closer, she could see he was very thin for his age, with almost bird like features. He did not appear to be malnourished, and Mary deduced his gaunt appearance was most likely due to excessive activity rather than lack of any sort.

  Mr. Fitzwilliam had drawn ahead of the other horse and quickly dismounted, so he could greet the children as they bounded
toward him; while O’Toole had instead turned his mount toward the ladies, most likely in an attempt to avoid the children possibly spooking Labraid. As he drew near, his smile matched the one upon Mrs. Hampton’s lips and Mary looked away, not wishing to interrupt a potentially tender moment.

  “Mr. O’Toole,” Mrs. Hampton curtseyed before raising her eyes to meet his. “I am pleased to see you returned so soon. We feared you would be forced to remain longer at Matlock.”

  Chuckling as he swung a leg over and down to the ground, O’Toole shook his head. “The master would have naught of that.” He turned back and lifted down the child. “This little mite is Adam Turner. He’ll be staying at Pemberley ‘til his mother returns from Newcastle.” He laid a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Adam, this is Mrs. Hampton, the nurse to General Fitzwilliam’s children.” The boy bowed formally, bringing a smile to the older servants’ faces. A moment passed as Adam glanced between the two and then toward the lady sitting on the blanket.

  Taking pity on him, Mary smiled and stood. “Welcome back, Mr. O’Toole. I believe you have been sorely missed.” As a blush crept across the man’s wind burned cheeks and he gazed at Mrs. Hampton, Mary felt a bit of her father rise up within her. “I understand the children were much desirous of one of your stories last evening before bed.”

  His jaw dropped and his eyes opened wider, before he laughed and nodded his head. “Aye, I had promised them a tale. I shall have to make up for it tonight. Adam, this is Miss Bennet, sister to Mrs. Darcy, the Mistress of Pemberley.”

  The boy bowed again and Mary smiled. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Turner. Has your mother been long at Newcastle?”

  Surprised to be introduced to, let alone spoken to by a member of the family, Adam was silent for a moment while his jaw hung slack. O’Toole rescued the lad by explaining Mrs. Turner was caring for her sister who was ill.