by Lilian Swift
“But not Papa,” Jane noted. “You will not be able to pull the wool over his eyes so easily.”
“Will I not?” Lizzy raised an eyebrow.
“He knows when you are telling the truth – because you always do,” Jane said.
“But it is for a good cause – the best cause,” Lizzy said earnestly. “The staff at Pemberley seem to think Sally has run off. Her mother and Hill believe otherwise. If no one else will discover the truth, surely it is up to us – to me – to see what I can do?”
“I think we must do something,” Jane replied. “But is this really the best way to go about it?”
“Mr. Darcy is not in residence at Pemberley. Hill told me,” she added when Jane glanced puzzledly at her. “So he cannot investigate Sally’s disappearance.”
Lizzy rose from the sofa.
“My mind is quite made up. I shall write and apply for the position of lady’s maid to Miss Darcy. If I am engaged, I shall go. If not, then we must think up another scheme to get to the bottom of Sally’s disappearance.”
“But you cannot apply as Elizabeth Bennet,” Jane protested.
“No,” Lizzy agreed. “And I must not use any of our acquaintances’ names. It is unlikely, but what if Mr. Darcy wrote to his sister and mentioned some of the people he met here in Meryton?” She paused. “People he did not disapprove of.”
“You do not think Mr. Darcy will take exception to your proposed action?” Jane asked delicately. Lizzy had told her of the letter Mr. Darcy had written to her after she had spurned his proposal at Hunsford.
“He will not even know about it.” Lizzy ignored a sudden twinge of doubt. “I do not even know where he is.”
“Perhaps in London with the Bingleys,” Jane murmured, sadness in her voice.
Lizzy patted her sister’s hand. Jane’s unhappiness was because of Mr. Darcy’s interference. He had persuaded Mr. Bingley that Jane did not have a special regard for him when nothing could be further from the truth.
After that, there was not much more to say. Lizzy fetched writing paper and proceeded to write a letter asking to be considered for the position of lady’s maid to Miss Darcy.
“I hope Miss Darcy does not think this paper too fine,” Jane said worriedly as she watched Lizzy sign her name – or her alias – at the end of the missive.
“If she does, hopefully she will think it a gift from my mistress,” Lizzy said. “There!” She held it out in front of her. “I have attempted to disguise my handwriting and have informed her that I have considerable experience as a lady’s maid and that I have looked after four sisters for the last five years.”
“You have looked after us longer than that,” Jane said fondly.
“As have you.” Lizzy returned her sister’s smile. “I have hardly fudged the truth at all in this letter.”
“Apart from your name.” Jane looked at the letter worriedly. “Harriet Brown.”
“It is the plainest name I could think of,” Lizzy told her. “And I know no one of that name, which means Mr. Darcy has most likely not met someone by that name when he was at Netherfield.”
“What about a reference?” Jane asked.
“I shall write one for myself,” Lizzy replied.
“But it is a crime to forge a servant’s reference, is it not?” Jane’s eyes widened.
“I had not thought of that,” Lizzy confessed. “But what else can I do? Something must be done about finding Sally. And is it truly a crime to give myself a reference based on my own experience of caring for my sisters?”
“Maybe not.” Jane sounded doubtful. “But who is the author of this reference? Elizabeth Bennet?”
“I confess I had not thought that far ahead.” Lizzy tapped her finger on her lips. “I think I must be the author. To use another made up name would be folly – that might truly be a crime, even if I am doing all this for the best possible reasons.”
“Oh, Lizzy.” Jane looked at her worriedly. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? What if you are unmasked at Pemberley? If Mr. Darcy should return and find you there ...”
“I am certain he will not,” Lizzy replied stoutly, but anxiety quivered down her spine. “At any rate, he is not out there looking for Sally. I promised Hill I would do what I could to help, and this is something I can do.”
“But what about the return address for your application? You cannot use Longbourn, if you are including the reference written by yourself. Surely Darcy wrote to his sister about the places he visited here.”
“Do you think so?” Lizzy asked quizzically. “We do not even know if he writes regularly to his sister. And even if he does, would he bother to tell her about us? Unless it is to criticize our hoydenish behavior.” At Jane’s downcast face, she added, “Not yours, of course.”
“Nor yours,” Jane replied with a wan smile.
Lizzy sighed. “You are correct, though, about the return address. I have been very sneaky and have used Mrs. Smith’s address instead.”
“Lizzy!” Jane looked shocked. “Do you think it is fair to include her in your scheme?”
“I am sure she will not mind,” Lizzy replied. In truth, she did feel a tiny twinge of doubt, but she was sure Mrs. Smith, a poor but genteel lady, would not be too put out. Especially if Lizzy took a couple of jars of Hill’s homemade raspberry jam to make up for the inconvenience.
“I believe her to be the soul of discretion,” Lizzy continued. “Once I discover the whereabouts of Hill’s niece, I will tell Mrs. Smith all about it, and thank her once more for her help.”
“If you’re sure,” Jane said doubtfully.
“My mind is quite made up.” Lizzy plucked a fresh sheet of paper from the desk. “And now I must write a reference for myself, in my own hand.” After doing so, she sealed the letter. “We must post this immediately!”
CHAPTER 3
Two weeks later, a reply came for Lizzy. She had been on tenterhooks ever since she had sent her application of employment to Miss Darcy.
What if it did not sound as if a lady’s maid had written it? What if the handwriting on the reference and the application looked too similar? What if Miss Darcy had already engaged someone for the position? And what if somehow Mr. Darcy had returned to Pemberley, read her application and knew immediately that she, Elizabeth Bennet, had written it?
Mrs. Smith had been most agreeable to receiving a letter for her and had promised not to breathe a word to anyone. That lady was middle-aged and thin, but with a gentle disposition and a positive view of the world. Lizzy had not even had to explain why she had used the other lady’s address – and the name of Harriet Brown.
Lizzy was ashamed she did not tell Mrs. Smith the truth – instead, she let that lady think it had something to do with submitting a story to a publisher. Better that, than making up a romance with an imaginary beau – if word ever got out that Elizabeth Bennet was conducting a romance under an assumed name – no matter that the whole thing was fiction – it might do real harm to her reputation.
Masquerading as a lady’s maid was much different, she told herself. If the truth ever came out, she hoped she would not be seen as a pariah for wanting to discover the truth about Sally.
Lizzy hurried home from Mrs. Smith’s. Her eyes lit up when she spied Jane in the morning room.
“Jane!” she kept her voice low. “Come up to our bedroom.” Lizzy tapped her reticule.
Jane’s eyes widened as she realized the import of her sister’s action. They practically ran up the stairs – for a moment Lizzy thought they were imitating Lydia and Kitty – and closed their bedroom door.
“Well?” Jane’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“I have a reply!” Lizzy’s fingers trembled as she plucked the letter from her reticule. She broke open the seal and scanned the contents.
“Oh, Jane!” She sank onto the bed. “I have been hired!”
“Let me see!” Jane took the letter from her. “Miss Darcy wants you to start immediately! Oh, Lizzy. Do you rea
lly think this is the correct course of action?”
“What else can we do? Hill has not received any news – surely if Sally had been found, we would have known by now?”
“But this ... this is a very drastic action to take.” Jane sat down on the bed next to her. “I am pleased for you, of course, but ...”
“I know.” Lizzy patted her hand. “I have a hundred butterflies trapped in my stomach right now.” She squared her shoulders. “But I know that this is the right thing to do.”
“How will you travel to Derbyshire? Surely you cannot go on your own.” Jane looked horrified at the thought.
Lizzy frowned. “I had not thought that far ahead,” she confessed. “Perhaps there will be someone we know from Meryton also going to Derbyshire. We might be able to hire a hack post-chaise together.”
“That would be very neat,” Jane said. “But about our parents? Are you still going to tell them you are visiting a fictional friend?”
“Yes.” Lizzy nodded. “I have not thought up anything better.”
“Since Miss Darcy wants you to start immediately, you’d best speak to Mama and Papa right away.”
AS LIZZY HAD PREDICTED, her mother had no argument with her visiting an old friend. But she looked horrified when Lizzy mentioned where her “friend” lived.
“Derbyshire!” Mrs. Bennet screwed up her face. “Take care you do not run into that proud and disagreeable Mr. Darcy!”
“No, indeed,” Lizzy murmured, wondering if her mother would suddenly discern her real reason for going to that region.
But she need not have worried. Instead, Mrs. Bennet tried to persuade Lizzy to take Mary with her!
Lizzy sent Jane an alarmed look, but thankfully Mary was in earshot and immediately pooh-poohed the idea of visiting someone she did not know.
“I would much rather stay at home, Mama,” Mary said, quietly but decisively. “I must practice more on the piano. Perhaps they will allow me to play at the next assembly in Meryton.”
Their mother looked a trifle horrified at the prospect, but whether it was from Mary wanting to practice more, or display her musical talents in front of the assembly patrons, Lizzy could not decipher.
“Very well,” Mrs. Bennet finally said, as if the whole argument had begun to fatigue her. “As long as your father agrees.”
Lizzy nodded and hurried to the library. Her father sat in a comfortable old armchair, a newspaper hiding his face.
“Hmm?” he enquired behind the broadsheet. At Lizzy’s voice, he lowered the newspaper.
When she told him she wanted to visit an old friend who lived in Derbyshire, he looked at her keenly.
She had not forged a letter! Her heart plummeted that she had been so stupid. Her mother might not want to see evidence of an invitation, but surely her father would?
“It’s not near Pemberley, is it? Do you think you’ll come across Mr. Darcy? What a proud fellow he is!”
“I am sure our paths will not cross, Papa,” Lizzy replied, her heart thudding in her chest. She certainly hoped not!
“Derbyshire is a fair distance to travel,” he pondered.
“I know, Papa,” she replied. Lizzy told herself not to fidget. She had never lied to her father before and did not like the sensation. But what else could she do? If she admitted the truth of her scheme, she was sure he would not permit her to uncover the whereabouts of Hill’s missing niece.
“I have saved some of my pin money,” she added. “I am happy to pay for the journey.”
“Nonsense,” he replied. “We are not that badly off. But I want you back in a month’s time. Sooner, if you do not like staying with her.” He paused. “Has she invited Jane as well?”
“No.” Lizzy shook her head.
“Pity.” He sighed. “I’m sure Jane could do with something jolly to look forward to.”
With that, Lizzy had received permission to go!
She could not believe that her father had not asked to see the invitation from her “friend.” Was it because he trusted her to tell the truth, or was it because ...
No, she would not think like that. Of course her father cared about them. But should he have not questioned her more closely about this friend who had invited her to stay over one hundred miles away?
But if he had, then her scheme would come to nought.
Right away, she replied to Miss Darcy’s offer of employment, accepting the position and saying she would come immediately.
She and Jane enquired among their friends and acquaintances in Meryton and discovered that a friend of Mrs. Philips, their aunt, was journeying to Derbyshire in two days’ time.
“This must be meant to happen, Jane! Otherwise, I would not have such good fortune.”
“I am glad you will have someone to travel with,” Jane said. A hint of worry shadowed her brown eyes.
“And Mrs. Adley seems most respectable,” Lizzy continued. She lowered her voice. “More so than our aunt.”
Jane looked as if she thought she should chide her sister, but then capitulated. “I fear you are right.”
“Don’t worry, Jane.” Lizzy patted her sister’s hand. “I shall be fine. And I will write to you every week.”
“More often than that, I hope!” Jane forced a smile. “Otherwise I shall be terribly worried about you.”
“You know I can take care of myself,” Lizzy told her. A faint niggle of doubt assailed her. Was she doing the right thing?
CHAPTER 4
Before Lizzy left for Derbyshire, she told Hill she would try to look into the matter of Sally’s disappearance while she was in the region. She did not want to reveal her true plan just in case Hill let it slip to someone the real reason Lizzy was going to Derbyshire.
Hill expressed her thanks and exhorted Lizzy to take care.
“For there may still be white slavers about, Miss Elizabeth,” Hill said tearfully. “I don’t want you to suffer the same fate as Sally.”
Lizzy patted her shoulder and told her she would be careful indeed.
To Lizzy’s relief, the journey passed uneventfully. Mrs. Adley, their aunt’s friend, proved to be a talker, but since most of what she uttered was quite amusing, Lizzy did not mind the company.
After a couple of days of travel, the two of them parted company. Mrs. Adley ended her journey at Lower Barley, a village close to Lambton.
From Lambton, it was only a few miles to Pemberley.
Lizzy’s stomach tightened with each mile closer to Darcy’s estate. She had the carriage to herself, but now she wished Mrs. Adley still accompanied her.
So far, she had pushed twinges of doubts away whenever they had surfaced, but now she was not so sure of herself.
Was her scheme doomed to fail? What if Mr. Darcy was in residence? If so, he would denounce her at once – and if he had a mind, she would become the laughing stock of the county – two counties – Derbyshire and Hertfordshire.
No. Mr. Darcy would not do something like that. If he did discover her masquerading as his sister’s lady’s maid, she was sure he would not want anyone to know.
But ... surely he would throw her out of the house as soon as she arrived?
Lizzy told herself she was being ridiculous. Darcy was not in residence at Pemberley. Miss Darcy had not mentioned her brother in her letter. Surely she would have mentioned his presence if he was there?
Her thoughts whirled around and around in her mind as the carriage brought her closer to Pemberley.
Down the long drive, smooth green lawn, topiary and magnificent roses greeted her. Her eyes widened at the incredible garden.
And then ...
The house came into view.
She gasped.
Lizzy had never seen anything like it, and she considered herself to be reasonably well travelled – at least in her part of England.
The house was large, of attractive blond stone and boasted many windows. It comprised of three storeys, with impressive stone steps leading to the entrance.
Liz
zy stepped out of the carriage, thanking the post boys. She picked up her bag and began to make her way toward the front entrance when she realized she was now a servant and must use the back door.
She looked around, hoping no one had noticed her error. But the carriage had already departed, the clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves fading in the quiet afternoon air.
The sun warmed her face as she made her way to the rear entrance, lending her strength. She had come this far – she must not back out now!
She looked down at her pastel blue gown. Was her dress too fine for a lady’s maid? Maids usually wore their own clothes, and she had packed her oldest dresses for this adventure. Did she look the part?
Lizzy knocked on the back door. The door swung open and she was greeted by the housekeeper, who introduced herself as Mrs. Reynolds.
“We have been expecting you, my dear,” she greeted her, after Lizzy stated her name was Harriet Brown.
Middle-aged, the servant was of medium height and dressed in black, a large ring of keys clinking from her waist.
“Come in,” she urged, ushering Lizzy into the servants’ quarters. It was a large room with a long dining table.
“This is where we take our meals. As you are a lady’s maid, you will be able to dine with me, but when the house is quiet, as it is now, the butler and myself usually take our meals with the other servants.”
“Thank you,” Lizzy replied. “I am happy to follow your direction.” She was glad that so far, Mrs. Reynolds seemed agreeable. It was most important that she remember she was no longer Miss Bennet of Longbourn, but an upper-class servant.
The house was so grand! She loved her home at Longbourn, but she could already see that her life at Longbourn was no match for Mr. Darcy’s – or his sister’s.
Would she be able to pull this off?
“Miss Darcy is looking forward to meeting you,” Mrs. Reynolds continued. “If you are ready, I shall take you to her right away.”
“Of course,” Lizzy replied, her knees trembling slightly.
