Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor

Chapter 25 Jane's Afterword

20 March 1803

No. 4 Sydney Place, Bath

I HAVE HAD NEWS TODAY FROM SIR WILLIAM REYNOLDS, OF Madame Delahoussaye's trial before the Assizes only a few days past; the proceedings were brief, as expected, and she has been sent to her Maker this very day. I should feel a depth of pity for her, had she not stood by with complete equanimity while Isobel faced a similar fate; and there is the image of foolish Marguerite Dumas, grimacing horribly in her unlooked-for death, that will not depart from memory. The snow is falling today, late in season, and I am cast back afresh to the dusky shed in the paddock, and the dark blood pooled in the straw; and though I think Madame well departed from this life, I offer a prayer for her eternal soul.

I have recovered fully from my own misadventure; the marks on my throat have faded; and I have determined to avoid all proposals of marriage in future, in the fear that my refusal should precipitate another spate of killing at some country house or other. The rest of the Scargrave party are not so sanguine; and like every novel of manners written by my contemporaries, this story has ended in marriages all around. Poor Fanny Delahoussaye was the first to assay that happy state — she ran off to Gretna Green with Mr. Cranley while her mother still sat in Newgate prison, and now publishes the news of her expectant condition with hardly a blush. That she had vowed never to marry a barrister, is happily banished from her mind.

Mr. George Hearst received a handsome Scargrave living under the terms of the late Earl's will, which he has effectively traded for one in Newcastle. He has repaired to the north with his Rosie, who bids fair to make an excellent curate's wife with a bit of schooling and gentle attention.

Though Fitzroy Payne is restored to Isobel's good opinion — and in so decided a manner as must make her blush with contrition and shame — he and the Countess are not yet joined in matrimony. The wounds of their past experience remain too raw. There is the weight of public opinion to be braved as well; for though they are saved from the noose, and all the indignities suffered in the weeks before their trial, they remain the object of much speculation. Isobel has retreated from society altogether, while the Earl devotes his attention to securing a suitable overseer for his estates in the West Indies. He has embarked on a plan of visitation to that region in May, and urges Isobel to accompany him; and my friend has not yet told him nay.

Isobel remains in her late husband's London house, the bitter memories of Hertfordshire and Scargrave Manor being as yet too strong. She is freed of her debt, as Lord Harold said, having received from that gentleman a large package of cancelled notes a few days after her liberation. The knowledge of her aunt's betrayal, against the extent of Frederick's goodness, has made my friend sober and sad; but she is young, and possessed of wealth and beauty, and cannot forego living for very long. With time, and forgetfulness, I believe Isobel shall find happiness again in the parity of Fitzroy Payne's mind and youth.

And Lord Harold Trowbridge? A curious man. To have held his high esteem — as I clearly did — is an honour I only understood when our acquaintance was at its close. He is everywhere misunderstood, mistrusted, and disliked, except by those who need his services; but he commands a fearful respect. I have said in the past that I should rather spend an hour with the notorious than two minutes with the dull; and my taste is proved again to be unerring.

I have here a letter penned in Trowbridge's hand—To the light angel—that contains a single phrase only. My dear Miss Austen, it says, we may take this as a lesson: It required a woman to divine what a woman had wrought.

THE END