The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [341]
‘No matter what my brother’s state of health,’ Adelaide assured him, ‘I shall return well before the trial. We shall have to do the best we can then. Perhaps,’ she added, ‘I shall bring Mr Gilpin with me.’
Upon these terms, therefore, Aunt Adelaide departed on the arm of Mrs Pride, leaving Fanny, for the time being, alone.
As the carriage rolled along the swift turnpike between Bath and Sarum, Mrs Pride had time to reflect carefully on all that had passed in the last few days. She only wished that she could see a solution to the terrible dilemma ahead.
About Fanny she had no confidence at all. The trial, it seemed to her, could very well go against her even if she made a strong defence. As to her state of mind and the presence of Mr Martell, both raised large questions to which she could see no solution.
As far as Aunt Adelaide was concerned, Mrs Pride didn’t blame the old lady for her view of Mr Martell. If the Prides still remembered the treachery of the Furzeys, how could old Adelaide forgive a Penruddock? In her place, thought Mrs Pride, she would have felt the same. As for finding him with Fanny like that … It must have nearly killed her.
Again and again, though, her mind returned to that tearful interview with Fanny. She had no doubt about the state of Fanny’s heart. She wished it were otherwise. But it was surely this impossible love that lay, at least partly, behind Fanny’s helpless condition. They reached Sarum in the evening without Mrs Pride seeing any way out of the dilemma.
They took the Southampton road out of Salisbury, over the high chalk ridge with its view over the Forest, and picked up the Lymington turnpike later in the day. By late afternoon, as the day was closing, they came along the lane to Mr Gilpin’s vicarage.
The vicar himself came to the door to greet them, which he did gravely, leading Adelaide straight to the drawing room, where he asked her to sit down. To her enquiry after her brother’s health, he paused a moment and then quietly told her: ‘Your brother died, just before dawn, this morning. It was entirely peaceful. I had been praying with him, then he slept a little, and then he slipped away. I could wish for such an end myself.’
Adelaide nodded slowly. ‘The funeral?’
‘With your permission, tomorrow. We can wait if you wish.’
‘No.’ Adelaide sighed. ‘It is better that way. I must return to Bath as soon as possible.’
‘You wish to see him? He is in the dining room, all ready.’
‘Yes.’ She got up. ‘I will see him now.’
Mr Gilpin had made all the arrangements and done so thoughtfully. When Adelaide had spent a little time alone with her brother he explained briefly the form of service he proposed at Boldre church, where the Albion family vault had been made ready. The Tottons, Burrards and other local families had all been informed and would be coming unless she wished otherwise. She herself was most welcome to stay at the vicarage, he added, but this, with many thanks, she declined as she preferred to stay in Albion House. Though some of the servants had been allowed to return to their homes in her absence, enough were still there to take care of her.
‘Promise me to rest at least a day or two before your return to Bath,’ he begged her. ‘You have time to do so.’
‘Yes. A day. But after that I think I must go. I cannot leave Fanny alone.’
‘Quite so. Perhaps, then, the day after the funeral, I may call upon you; for there are certain matters in that connection I wish to discuss.’
‘Of course.’ Indeed, she let him know, she was most anxious for his advice.
He saw her safely off, watching her carriage from his door until it was out of sight. Only then did he come back, cross the hall