Chapter 28: Sorting Out Edwin

A second long journey, even with the delay necessitated by not traveling on a Sunday, in the space of so short a time was not something my sister was accustomed to doing and was something I had seldom endured. It was well that we had not traveled earlier. However, Georgiana bore it without complaint.

We traveled all day Monday and reached the inn where we would spend the night only as dusk was falling. We ate in a private sitting room with Mrs. Annesley. While the food was simple inn fare, we tucked into it eagerly, not hardly engaging in any conversation.

Before we were even finished, Georgiana seemed to have trouble keeping her eyes open. She finished her food and then took herself off to bed.

Having spent the day in the saddle, I was rather sore, and although I was exhausted, I daresay it took me longer to settle myself in the rented bed. In the morning when I awoke, I had no wish to ride again given the aching of my posterior. Perhaps we should have traveled on the Saturday and then remained in an inn for two nights.

Yet, there was nothing to it but to ride as I had planned. This was one occasion when I seriously considered riding in the carriage with the ladies, but instead I simply rode and tried to ignore the discomfort.

At the last stop before my London house (at a meal upon the road), I resolved with Georgiana that after we reached the house, we would both retire for the evening. I told her, as I was handing her back into the carriage, "When we reach town, I shall write a message to Judge Darcy to be delivered in the morning. Hopefully, he can see me then. Likely, tomorrow, I should also seek Edwin out as well, discover what has transpired while we have been gone. I shall send him a message as well, as I have no wish to go to the Earl's home again."

I suggested, "Tomorrow you should have a good lie-in, rest well. There is no need to rise early. Still, if possible, I wish to proceed to Rosings later that day."

Georgiana gave me a look, responded, "Can you not have an easy day tomorrow, too? Surely, we could spend the morrow in London, go to Rosings the following day."

I did not like the idea (which she had suggested before) and told her so. "I would prefer not to tarry in London too long. I have a feeling if we remain that the Earl or his wife will soon enough seek us out."

"If you need me, want me, to go with you to visit Judge Darcy . . ." Georgiana paused to yawn, "I shall be happy to accompany you."

My first notion was to reject this idea outright. While I knew my sister would likely be helpful, I also had a desire to stand on my own, to not appear less than a man to him.

"As we shall be seeing our uncle the Earl far less, I should like to get to know our other uncle more," Georgiana noted as she rubbed at her eyes.

I had not thought of it like that. I considered, "Perhaps, if you are awake and so inclined."

We had as of yet two hours of further travel to go and that last two hours seemed to take as long as the rest of the journey as I was in some pain from all the riding. However, finally we arrived and I handed my sister and her companion down from the carriage. Georgiana leaned heavily on Mrs. Annesley and I was reminded of when Georgiana was a child and our father would carry her against his breast as she slumbered.

As we went inside, we were met by Mr. Smith, and I ordered baths be prepared for each of us. Then I bid the ladies goodnight.

Though I was dusty from the road and in need of some respite, I walked toward my study to pen a quick note to my uncle the judge as I was eager to have that matter done so that it could be sent off the following day. However, I had no sooner handed the sealed note off after exiting the study when I met Mrs. Grotburn who was apparently coming to see me.

She greeted me, welcomed me home and then told me, "Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived here a few hours ago, is staying in the room two doors down from the master suite." I did not like that there was a further alteration in my plans, although it was certainly preferrable that he was there, that I did not need to send a note or seek him out at the Earl's house on the following day.

I had just resolved that I would speak to him in the morning when he appeared moments later. Perhaps Edwin had heard the commotion our unexpected arrival caused.

Reasoning that it would take perhaps a quarter of an hour to have the water fetched and heated, I met with Edwin in my study. Each of us sat in the chairs in front of my desk. It was easier to talk that way and it made us equals.

He seemed calm but weary. I felt that it was odd for me to notice another person's weariness when I was so tired myself.

"I cannot continue in my father's house," Edwin announced. "He has been badgering me about what it means that you departed from Netherfield and what your plans are now. He did not believe me when I said I did not know. He learned today that Sylvia has left as well. I am rather surprised he did not learn before then, for I had received word of it two days earlier from one of her servants.

"The Earl is most angry at me for all of these things; he acts as if I wronged him. Naturally, I tried to pretend surprise and dismay at her disappearance, told him that I do not know where she went, but he believes I hid her for myself. Thank goodness that arrangements were made for her protection and carried out with haste. This morning he ordered that I depart for Rosings as the one thing I can do to redeem myself is to marry Anne. As I was not willing to do so, I came here instead. I envy your fortitude and independence."

"As I have told you before," I responded, "you have a home with us should you need it. I am glad to hear Miss S. is well away."

"Why did you leave Hertfordshire and where have you been?" Edwin asked. "I thought you were determined to win Miss Elizabeth's hand."

I thought about that for a moment. It was not so surprising that he knew nothing of my trip to Pemberley, as I had tried to conceal what I was doing.

When I was younger, I used to believe that everyone knew what I knew. I did not truly understand that each person's mind contained very different content and would get frustrated with other people when they said, "I do not understand."

I recall I would start talking about things with no prefatory language. Those closest to me had heard whatever I said often enough that many times they understood the context already, but other people did not. My tutor was forever trying to explain that other people would not know what I meant, but I saw no need to explain further. It then left to my mother or tutor to try to "translate" what I was talking about, to give the context so that what I was discussing did not sound like gibberish.

For example, I might repeat "Bruce blue to white" which was my shorthand for thinking about how in 1772 British explorer James Bruce traced the Blue Nile to the White Nile in Africa. I discussed many map features and who discovered them in such a way, which must have been very confusing for someone who had little interest in geography or maps.

Naturally, I eventually saw the wisdom in my tutor's advice, but when I began school, especially when excited, it was all too easy for me to revert to short, substitutionary phrases. George would then provide alternative meanings for what I said that were not what I intended at all. I would get frustrated that he did not remember the things I had told him many times, that he would say what I meant wrong, causing the other boys to laugh.

It took me years to understand that George was doing this on purpose, was making sport of me. But even when I finally understood that he was teasing, I often did not understand the "joke," it was as gibberish to me.

I had a moment of suspicion as to why Edwin wanted to know where I had been and what I was doing. I was uncertain whether I should tell Edwin where I was or not. The only advantage I currently had over the Earl is that he did not know what I had done or what I was planning. Though Miss Elizabeth had not let me stage a public disagreement with her, I had hoped that my leaving would deflect the Earl's eyes from her and her family.

While I was certain that Edwin cared for Miss Vaughn and wanted her well and truly away from his father, what if Edwin's father had told him that he could redeem himself for sending her away by spying upon me, determining my plans and then reporting back to him before courting Anne? Should I truly tell him what I had done and why, and what I planned to do, still? Was he still thinking of Miss Bennet or was that an infatuation that had been washed away by the cold truth of what would truly follow should he break ties with his father?

I wished I could consult with my sister, but she had already retired for the night. Also, she was fond of Edwin. Could that cloud her judgment? I also wished I could talk with Miss Elizabeth or Mr. Gardiner about the matter. But neither knew about Miss Vaughn (neither truly did my sister) or what had been done to remove her from that life, so even if I could consult with them, I would not be able to discuss everything with them.

Mr. Gardiner was in the city, but I was not sure if I should go to see him. Limiting his involvement was probably best. Truly, perhaps it was better if no one really knew my plans but Georgiana.

I answered his question with one of my own. "What are your plans now? Are you firmly resolved against going to Rosings and becoming engaged to Anne, or are you simply delaying knowing that eventually you might yield?"

Edwin shook his head in negation, lowered his eyes and fiddled with his gloves. His sandy hair was messy, as if he had been running his hands through it, likely he had. He told me, "As you well know, I have no wish to marry Anne." He wrinkled his lip. "I think she would be mighty shocked to learn what is expected of a wife, would throw a fit rather than let me bed her should we wed. And I am not sure I would be up for such a challenge."

Edwin said, "I find myself rather at a loss at what I should do. I could perhaps go to my own estate, but I have promised the funds not needed to keep running it for Sylvia's benefit. I wish I could seek out Miss Bennet, but at present I cannot afford to marry, nor do I think it would be wise to court the sister of the woman he does not want you to marry. I have not forgotten her," he stared up and off into the distance then, before returning his eyes to look at me, "but I will bide my time and hope that no new suitor presents himself to her before I can act. Though it is tempting to remain an easy distance from her father's estate, I am not sure it is wise that I remain in London. I wish to be my own man, but I fear being pushed into giving into my father."

I had my answer then. I would hope that Edwin was loyal to me, but as even he admitted that his father might yet be able to work on him, it would be best if he was kept in ignorance and kept far away. While I had the brief thought that it would be pleasant to take him to Rosings with me and that perhaps his father would think by him going hither that he was complying with his father's plans, it would be far better to temporarily remove this chess piece from the board.

I offered, "I think you should go stay at Pemberley for a while. I shall write a letter to Mrs. Reynolds that you shall carry with you, explaining that you will be staying indefinitely. When I have sorted things out, I will see you there."

Edwin's expression changed from bland to a more emotional one, but I was not sure what he was thinking or feeling. He said, "You do not want to share you plans with me. Perhaps that is wise. Thank you, brother, for your grant of sanctuary. I will accept and if you write that letter I will leave tomorrow."

"Need you funds for the journey?" I asked.

"I have enough to pay for my food and shelter along the road," he responded, "if precious little else. I will not ask that of you."

I scribbled out a quick missive, which I sealed and then gave to him. I then bid him goodnight and retreated to my chambers.

By this time, my bath was tepid, but I still received some enjoyment in becoming clean. 'Twould have been better had the water still been hot enough to soothe away my aches, but despite being saddle sore, I was asleep almost as soon as I lay down on my bed.

In the morning I woke up promptly. I was most thoroughly sore and the way my muscles ached, I did not know if it would be better to stay in bed and try not to move at all, or to get up and stretch them. While I remained there, lying stiffly, I began almost immediately thinking on the tasks for the day. I did not like that it would all depend upon whether Judge Darcy might take my call. If he would not, it would be well to be away to Rosings, but as it was I could not yet make plans.

After breakfast alone, I filled some of the idle time with making payments on the household accounts (although there was little of that from the brief time I had been gone) and perusing the incoming mail. I had hoped to have a letter from Mr. Hill which was from Miss Elizabeth, but such a letter was not there. I tried to reassure myself that such silence meant that she was safe and well. I wished for some distraction from all of my worst thoughts but, indeed, there was naught of interest or at least nothing that could capture my interest (I had no wish for invitations).

Then I skimmed through the papers from the last few days, learned the latest from France and more about the assassination of the Prime Minister. John Bellingham was tried for the murder of the Prime Minister at Old Bailey on Friday and hung on Monday. It seemed he was upset the British government would not compensate him for being imprisoned in Russia. I wondered if Judge Darcy had any involvement in his trial. I wondered if the Earl was involved in trying to select Perceval's successor (who the Prince Regent would appoint). I knew little of politics or what the Earl's interests were in the matter.

I felt more settled after I had cleared my desk. By then it was past ten o'clock. I should have napped then or tried to rest, but I was restless as I itched to get more done and fretted about the delay.

I tried to take up a book, but soon had to give it up as a useless task. Perhaps I could have concentrated on a map, but the novel in my hands was making no sense. By the time I abandoned the attempt, I was further frustrated. However, by the faint sounds of the piano forte, I knew that my sister was up and so determined to seek her out.

When I arrived at the music room, I found her looking through her sheet music with Edwin by her side. "How about the Pleyel sonata?" Edwin suggested, before he heard my step and looked up.

"Good morning Georgiana, Edwin." I greeted them and immediately told them what was on my mind in seeing him there. "Edwin, I would have expected you to be gone by now, on your way to Pemberley."

He responded, "Imagine my surprise to find you had just come from there."

I wondered just what Georgiana had been telling him and whether it might be something that if he shared it with his father might help him get back in his good graces.

Edwin said, "I see no need to be gone until tomorrow; it seems only right that should spend time with my cousins."

"I rather think you should go now," I responded.

He glanced over at Georgiana.

"If Brother thinks that is best, perhaps you ought to go," Georgiana told him.

Edwin looked back at me and then at her. "I have no wish to depart now, and I see no need to prematurely deprive myself of my cousins' company. I am rather hoping that Fitz can tell me how things are with his friend Bingley."

I said naught in reply. I was rather confused.

Edwin waggled his eyebrows at me and then added with a particular emphasis, "Was not his sister set to go upon a journey? Should you not go see him and find out if everything is well?"

I shook my head, hoping to clear it and make sense of what he wanted.

"Fitz, there was a book I was looking for in the library. Perhaps you can help me find it," he suggested.

"There are so many books at Pemberley, surely you do not need to start reading one from here now," I replied.

Georgiana huffed out a breath. "Brother, I am quite certain that there is something that Edwin wishes to talk to you about without me present, something that he feels it of sufficient import to delay his journey North. He has been trying to hint at it. I have no idea what Bingley has to do with it, but please will you not go speak to him about it? Clearly it is something he will not address in my presence. I shall make it easy for you both; I shall go attend to my own correspondence for a half an hour or so. Shall that be sufficient?"

Edwin replied, "Yes, quite. Even fifteen minutes would likely suffice."