Recollections of Rosings (31 page)

    It was this implacable opposition that Catherine faced when she appeared that morning before the trustees, or in this case, their representatives, to put the case for her parish school.

    The matter was taken up after sundry administrative tasks had been speedily attended to. No other item of importance remained, and those around the table seemed to think a decision would not take long to achieve. Once the proposal for the school had been introduced and Catherine had presented her information, laying before them the facts—the numbers of girls who could benefit, the type of useful education they would receive, learning initially to read and write and then proceeding to other practical lessons which would stand them in good stead in life—the chairman, Jonathan Bingley, asked for the views of the trustees and their attorneys.

    There were general expressions of approval and interest around the table; even Mr Parker, one of the two attorneys present, seemed convinced of its value. His conversation with Caroline Fitzwilliam had clearly proved enlightening.

    But it was Rose Gardiner who expressed the strongest reservations, pointing out the objections of her father and then reminding them of Lady Catherine's original rejection of a parish school as unnecessary. Refusing to agree even to have the matter voted on, because she had no instruction from her father on how to vote in such a case, she made as if to leave the meeting. Not even the gentle intervention of Mr Jamison, the new rector, who spoke in glowing terms of the potential for good that would follow the establishment of a parish school, could alter her determination.

    After much argument, Rose was persuaded to return on the morrow, when it was hoped they would have received their instructions by telegraph. The chairman obligingly agreed to request from Mr Darcy and Sir James clear directions to their representatives in the event of a vote on the matter.

    When the meeting broke up, Caroline expressed her annoyance—she had no doubt about how she would vote—Jonathan was all discretion and patience, but poor Catherine was desolated.

    "I never imagined it would be easy to persuade Mrs Gardiner," she said, fighting to hold back her tears, "but I must confess I did not think it would be so difficult, either! I cannot believe that a woman in her privileged position can be so intractable, so unwilling to acknowledge the needs of other young women less fortunate than herself. How does she have the heart to deny them what she has benefitted from herself?"

    Mr Burnett, who had arrived hoping to hear good news, had to help Caroline comfort Catherine and urge her not to give up hope, because Jonathan Bingley, who had immediately despatched messages by electric telegraph to Mr Darcy and Sir James Fitzwilliam, was confident of receiving their responses before the meeting next morning.

    Catherine was not easily comforted. Having invested so much time and effort in her plan, she was loathe to admit defeat, yet could not see a way through, unless Rose could be persuaded to agree to a vote, which she could clearly lose.

    The following morning was unseasonably warm, presaging a return to late Summer weather. Cloudless blue skies and a light prevailing breeze suggested a day more suited to a picnic in the park, rather than another meeting of the Trust. But there was nothing for it, Mr Bingley had insisted, the issue had to be settled.

    Almost as soon as they arrived at the meeting room, Catherine and Caroline could see that something had changed. Jonathan was walking around quite jauntily, while Rose stood to one side talking earnestly with her attorney, who had come specifically from London to advise her.

    "If I were to make a judgment on the basis of her countenance alone, I would have to say, Cathy, that Mrs Gardiner is not very pleased," said Caroline quietly and she was soon to be proved right.

    As the meeting opened, Mr Bingley produced not one but two messages received by electric telegraph overnight, which he laid on the table.

    One came from Mr Darcy and, as his representative, Jonathan read it to the meeting. Addressing the trustees and their representatives, Mr Darcy stated in the clearest possible terms his support for the Parish School project proposed by Mrs Harrison; he wrote:

    Catherine's eyes filled with tears as she listened to the message. There was hardly any need for further discussion, but Jonathan proceeded to hand the second message, this from Sir James Fitzwilliam, to Rose Gardiner's attorney.

    It was short and to the point. It instructed his daughter as his representative to vote as she thought fit, according to the strength of the arguments put forward at the meeting for and against a parish school. It did not tell her how to vote, simply to settle the issue by agreeing to vote on it.

    And there was an end to it. Rose voted against, but with the support of both attorneys—the other had confessed to have been persuaded by Mr Darcy's eloquent letter—the matter was finally settled.

    Rose Gardiner, having cast the only vote against the school, left with her attorney, leaving the meeting in no doubt that she considered the entire project a waste of money. The ill grace with which she had responded to her loss did little to recommend her to the rest, who were far more concerned with congratulating Catherine on her success and assuring her of their support.

    Not long afterwards, relieved at having done their duty, they went their separate ways—Jonathan to visit his sister Emma Wilson at Standish Park in the same county and Caroline, who had expressed a wish to meet with a friend in Hunsford, went with Mr Jamison the rector, promising to return to the Dower House in time for dinner. This left Catherine to return home alone, this time in a much better frame of mind than she had been in on the previous day.

    It was not a great distance to the Dower House if she took the path through the grounds of Rosings Park and it being a fine, warm day, Catherine decided to walk rather than accept a ride in Mr Parker's gig.

    She had not gone very far, however, when the sun, which had been shining all morning, seemed to disappear behind heavy grey clouds, which had blown in out of nowhere. What had been glorious early Autumn weather threatened suddenly to bring down upon her a late Summer thunderstorm.

    Catherine hurried on, but having no umbrella and wearing only a light coat over her gown, she felt the heavy drops fall faster and, conscious of the documents she carried in her case, which may well be damaged by the rain, she decided to take shelter at Rosings.

    Leaving the path, she made for the East Wing, where most of the staff would by now be engaged in their chores. Rushing to avoid being drenched as the rain began to fall more heavily, she almost ran into Mr Burnett. Clearly taken aback by her appearance, he stopped, irresolute and not a little confused, then said, "Mrs Harrison, I was coming over to ask if the meeting had gone well this morning. I had just reached the vestibule when the storm broke and I turned back to fetch an umbrella from my room."

    Unable to hide her excitement and heedless of the discomfort of her damp shoes, Catherine blurted out the news.

    "It has all been agreed, thanks to dear Mr Darcy and Jonathan Bingley; Mrs Rose Gardiner was well stymied. We are to proceed with plans for the school with a view to opening next Spring and I am to continue at the Dower House for another year!" she said, openly enjoying her delayed moment of success.

    His delight was plain to see, and as they shared the pleasure of the moment, they almost forgot the rain that was still pouring down outside. Then, as if suddenly aware of the problem, Catherine said, "I must get home and change my shoes, I'm afraid they are wet through. Would you be so kind as to let me borrow that umbrella of yours?"

    With such a direct request, there was no possible way for Frank Burnett to refuse. He seemed startled but recovered quickly and said, "Yes, of course. Are you quite sure you do not wish to wait until the rain has ceased completely? I could take you down to the dining room and the housekeeper would get you some tea, while they dried out your shoes."

    It had been his last hope, but she shook her head.

    "No, I should not delay; were I to catch cold, that would be a dreadful way to celebrate our success. Thank you, but an umbrella will be quite enough to get me home; the rain seems to have eased already. However, there is another favour I must ask of you. I should be much obliged if you would keep these documents safe for me in your office. They include records of the meetings and decisions of the Trust. I should hate to have them ruined by carrying them around in this weather."

    This time he said, "Certainly," and led the way, as she walked with him towards the room in which he had left his umbrella; the very room she had been in just a few days ago. As they entered, he moved to the window to open the curtains and the room filled with light. Catherine's eyes were drawn instantly to the glass-fronted cabinet beside the desk and to her amazement, the framed picture was no longer there. She looked again, unable to believe her eyes, and her mind raced as she wondered how and why it might have disappeared.

    Meanwhile, Mr Burnett proceeded to light the fire, fanning it to a warm blaze, hoping perhaps to distract her with his attentions to her comfort. He then went to fetch the umbrella from the stand in the far corner of the room.

    As he did so, Catherine moved towards the desk upon which she sought to place the folder of documents she carried, saying, "This folder holds all our plans, calculations, and proposals—it is very precious indeed. I hope it will not be too much trouble for you to keep them here. You do have a secure cabinet, do you not?"

    "Of course, they will be quite safe with me," he said as he came towards her on the other side of the desk and, taking a key from his pocket, turned to open the glass-fronted cabinet in which had stood her picture.

    At that very moment, as he stood with his back to her, she saw it lying face up on the desk. Quite clearly, he had taken it out of the cabinet himself. Catherine imagined him holding it as he sat at his desk and placing it flat on the desk before leaving the room. Perhaps, she thought, he had intended to put it back and was interrupted.

    Even as her mind wandered over the possible explanations, Frank Burnett turned and stood directly facing her; the picture lay between them.

    There was no avoiding it now.

    It took Catherine a few moments and some deliberate effort to look up at his face. Their eyes met instantly, and as they both looked down at the picture, their mutual discomposure was palpable. Though he said nothing at first, she could sense from his stance and the expression of absolute dismay that had suffused his countenance that this was an encounter for which he was utterly unprepared.

    Her face reddened as she realised the implications of this moment, yet because she felt cold and drew her scarf more closely around her, he was able to use the time to ameliorate the awkwardness of the moment with some practicality.

    "Forgive me, I am forgetting your wet shoes!" he said and, disappearing momentarily behind a screen at the back of the room, returned with a towel. Moving a chair closer to the fireplace, he invited her to be seated and said, "Please remove your shoes and dry your feet or you
will
catch cold. Your shoes will dry out quickly if we place them by the fire."

    He had produced also a long blue wool scarf, obviously a gentleman's—his own perhaps—which he placed around her shoulders, taking away her damp shawl and laying it over a chair to dry in front of the fire. Then, as she began to dry her feet, grateful indeed for the warmth and comfort of the fire, he drew up a chair and sat opposite her.

    He spoke slowly, with great deliberation.

    "Mrs Harrison, I can explain everything, about the picture, I mean. I took it from Dr Harrison's collection and had it framed in town last year along with all the others. I am sorry I did not ask your permission, as I should have, only because I was embarrassed—I did not know how to ask and what reason to give, nor did I wish to give offence or compromise you in any way. I am truly sorry if I have offended you. Of course I will put it away directly, though may I say in my defence, I have been very discreet. No one has seen it but myself, until today."

    His words did not come easily at all, and Catherine, who had been drying her feet with meticulous care, looked up at him and smiled.

    "Mr Burnett, I have a confession to make, too," she said quietly. "I was here in this room only a few days ago, when I called to see you and you were out. I saw it then in your cabinet over there. I too was unwilling to cause you embarrassment; I left the room, found the servant downstairs, and sent you a note. So you see, I have seen the picture here before."