- Chapter 19 -

"What news from Mr Routley in Chatham?" Cecilia asked of Thomas Harding one hot day in early July. They sat together in the massive and sprawling gardens surrounding Rosforte, watching Eliza and Betsey floating flowers in a nearby pond.

"The Victory is headed back to European waters. They have chased Villeneuve all over the West Indies; Grenada, Antigua, St. Kitts; but with every word on the whereabouts of the French fleet consistently proving false, Nelson is certain the French are no longer there. She is currently ashore at Gibraltar, but when the Victory in next in English ports Brandon will need to prepare himself; he'll be joining it when it goes back out to sea."

"Do you think...with so much false information, might it be possible there is a messenger working for the French?"

Harding was silent a moment "I suppose that's a possibility, but that's a hard accusation, they'd need definitive proof."

"Celia!" Betsey broke through their conversation. Running over with Eliza close behind. She held a crimson bloom in her hand, which she tucked into her sisters piled curls "You must tell us what you wish for your birthday this week end, Eliza wishes to know!"

"That was not in the least subtle!" cried her friend in good-humored exasperation.

"Oh pish tosh, subtlety rarely begets answers. I already told her you would say you want nothing Celia, for I know how are droll you are, but she would not have it."

"Well she is right Eliza, I want for nothing. My sister knows me well."

"I would not call that droll." Mr Harding commented "I would say that shows an easy character, not requiring constant or abundant maintenance; unlike most who require almost too much maintenance for one to secure their friendship or affection."

"How quick you are to defend Mr Harding. A fair point, but such a character will likewise put very little effort into getting or maintaining relationships; leaving them alone and lonely but for their family, who are forced friends." she poked her sister teasingly.

"Not alone or lonely, for she may have few friends, but those friends will be steadfast and closer to the heart, for her friendship doesn't smother or demand."

"Gracious what censure, I feel that was a blow on my own character!"

"Enough of this talk." Eliza cut in "Poor Cecilia, to be picked apart so before her very face. Let us talk of lighter themes; like how we are to convince Mama and Papa Wheaton to allow Celia to go to London or Bath for the end of the Season, say Saturday next?"

"Oooh! Yes!" Betsey exclaimed

"Oh no let's not!" Cecilia interrupted desperately "It is perfectly acceptable to have my coming out at home with a small party. I'm sure Miss Compton can make it grand enough for you!"

"You are coming out so soon? You won't wait until next year's season, or next?" Mr Harding turned to her in surprise.

"Unfortunately not." was the sighed reply

"Yes! Time is a ticking Mr Harding! Can you imagine how splendid she will be adorned in beautiful, fashionable gowns, surrounded by doting potential suitors!" Betsey's eyes gleamed mischievously and both Cecilia and Mr Harding grew pale at the prospect. "I shall talk to Mama direct. Or, at least the moment she returns from Landyn House."

~~~

'Mama' was currently on a leisurely walk with her eldest daughter among the trees of Landyn House's orchard.

"I am glad you've come to stay with me while Benedict is away on business Mama. I get frightfully lonely in this grand house by myself."

"Of course I would come! I don't often get to see my oldest daughter now she's all grown and married!" Mrs Wheaton directed her daughter to the shade. "Come sit, I don't wish you to become fatigued."

"I could not feel less fatigued! But if it will ease your mind..." Katherine obliged. Sighing, she gazed at the lines of trees leading up to the beautiful stone mansion, a hand resting on her stomach. "Oh Mama, I never dreamed we could be so blessed."

"Nor could I, and yet..." She paused with a frown at seeing her daughter's wince "What is it, are you in pain?"

"Oh, just a twinge, it happens now and then." Katherine smiled "Nothing out of the ordinary I'm sure."

"How bad is it?"

"I'd liken it to the lady's pains I had before I became pregnant." Blushed she.

"My dear; that would be considered out of the ordinary, perhaps we should have you lay down." Mrs Wheaton's face creased in concern.

"As you say mother." said Katherine, alarmed "Do you think we should call Dr. Phillips?"

"Let us take you to your bed first and then I'll call for him. You're most likely right and it is all nothing. But it is best, I think, to be sure."

Mrs Wheaton helped her daughter up and they started towards the house; they had only made a few steps, however, before Mrs Gray suddenly stopped with a gasp and clutched her stomach. Both women began to panic despite efforts to stay calm.

"I'm sure it's nothing dear, just let's take our time, there it is, no rush. Dilly! DILLY!" Katherine's mother called to the maid who had accompanied them and was currently picking apples for the two. Dilly came scurrying. "Have a man call for Dr Phillips please. This Minute!"

They made a few steps before Katherine stopped again with mewl of pain. "Mama!" her voice shook along with her hands. "Water is running down my legs." she began to cry.

Her mother quickly lifted her daughter's skirts. Seeing the stain of blood she immediately had her lay down. Dilly returned shortly and was immediately sent back for rags and warm water.

"Is it the baby?" Katherine cried with hands shaking over her eyes "Mama, is he going to be alright??" Her mother's eyes welled up as her own shaking hands sponged away pools and clots of blood. She hushed and tutted and kissed her daughters head.

The doctor arrived, but there was nothing could be done.

~~~

Upon receiving his mother-in-law's desperate letter not a day later, Benedict Gray made immediate preparations to return home. He paced the courtyard of the terrace where he had been residing, waiting for the carriage. It arrived shortly, though not nearly quick enough for him. "Hurry up man." he barked at the driver in haste as he leapt into the seat. They set off at a breakneck pace, dirt flying as they sped through the streets and into the country. When they stopped to change horses Gray paced once again, threading his fingers viciously through his hair in frustration. He waited barely a moment before demanding a horse, and once one was acquired, was on his way in a spray of gravel and dust.

~~~

A knock at the door had three heads raising in Katherines room. Her sisters had arrived not long before and sat with their mother by her bed. "Someone is here." stated Betsey, rousing the resting Katherine who looked up at her mother with hopefully expectant eyes, "It is Benedict." Her mother was already bustling out of the room towards the front door.

Rushing down the steps to the grand foyer she began to speak the moment she heard voices; "Dear Benedict, we have been so anxious for your arrival...." she stopped in alarm, seeing the two constables turn towards her.

"Madam." they bowed "Is Mrs Gray in residence."

"What is it." She demanded

"It may be best," the younger constable started "If we were all seated; and if Mrs Gray was present."

"Tell me!"

They looked to each other and the older one began gently. "We come to bear the unfortunate word of Mr Benedicts Gray's passing Ma'am."

Mrs Wheaton slowly lowered herself to the steps. "My daughter is unwell, I will tell her myself. How..?"

Once the constables had left, Mrs Wheaton made her way back up to her daughter heavy with grief and loath to tell her daughter the tragic news. Katherine, seeing her mother's face, lost what colour was left in her own. "What is it? Where is my husband?" Cecilia, guessing the worst, went immediately to the bed to clutch her sister's hand.

Mrs Wheaton's hand rose to her face and she began to sob. "Dearest," she tried "there has been an accident." Betsey's hand, too, went to her face to smother a gasp, and Cecilia pressed her sister's hand tightly as their mother continued. Katherine quietly listened with tears flowing as it was explained he had been on the way when his horse had been forced to take a corner to hard; sliding and throwing Mr Gray directly in the path of an oncoming coach. Katherine's pain was too great to be expressed; only seen in her gaunt, white-faced, silence. The next week was filled with too many tears and condolences. Mr and Mrs Gray Senior arrived not a day later with Miss Gray; the only ones who truly shared her pain; and whose company, along with the company of her own family, was a great relief and comfort. Then came Miss Compton, who's sincere and affectionate consoling also helped ease the pain. Many others also called to pay respects; including Mrs Routley, who provided significantly less relief and comfort, though it was duly appreciated.

A letter from Thomas Harding arrived at Brandon Routley's door in Chatham. Upon being read its receiver stood, a flare of hope causing a smile to spread on his face. Brandon then crumpled the letter with a frown, surprised and ashamed at his own selfish, uncompassionate thoughts. Drawing a hand over his face, he looked down at the letter with a sigh, smoothing it out, and sitting to write a reply expressing his sincerest condolences to the family.