Julian was firm. “Josie, dearest, let us not leap too far ahead. You must fully recover your health before going to London. Before I return to Cambridge, I must write in confidence to your father, asking only that I be permitted to visit you in London, at your aunt’s house. There is no harm in that; indeed, it may make it easier for him to permit you to go to London knowing that you could call on me in any emergency,” he argued.
Finally, she was persuaded to agree. “And in the meantime, I promise that I will not accept the advances of any other man,” she said with a smile.
“That would make me prodigiously happy,” he replied, a big, happy smile breaking out and transforming his serious countenance. “And a year later, I confidently predict, we shall announce our engagement to the world!” he declared, like a man who found a treasure but must keep it hidden for a while.
So overcome were they with their mutual happiness that they embraced one another warmly and promised that they would not only keep faith with each other but would write every possible day when they were apart, if not more often. These and other predictable promises being made, they returned to the carriage.
When they arrived at the house, after being longer away than they had anticipated, it was fortunate for both of them and their plan for secrecy that Mrs Tate had gone out. She had left a message that if Julian could come to dinner on the Saturday, he would be very welcome. The invitation was accepted with alacrity, of course. But Saturday was two whole days away; it was unthinkable that he could stay away that long. He would surely return tomorrow with another of Josie’s favourite books.
The presence of the servants and their natural discretion held them apart as they said farewell, but neither could hide their joy. They had known one another since childhood, but had grown up as neighbours and friends do, with plenty of good fun and companionship and very little thought of romance. The discovery of their mutual affection and hope of future felicity had kindled feelings of uncommon delight that could not easily be hidden from any but the most disinterested or unobservant of persons.
As soon as Julian had gone, Josie escaped to the privacy of her bedroom to give her time to settle her thoughts and dwell upon the events of the morning undisturbed, while Julian went home to compose what he believed must surely be the most important letter he would ever write. Before returning to Cambridge, he went again to see his sister. He could not bear the burden of his happiness alone he said, and since she had been his confidante and counsellor, he felt he owed it to her to tell her everything.
That Josie had not merely accepted his love but confessed to hers and agreed that they would become engaged within a year had left him ecstatic. He had more good tidings to convey; he had written to Mr Anthony Tate, of whom he had always been in some awe, only to find him a most amiable gentleman.
“I was concerned because Josie had insisted that the entire matter be dealt with confidentially, which took some explaining. But he invited me to join him at his club, where he was most hospitable, and once we had spoken, he said he understood Josie’s wish to go to London and confessed—just as I had predicted he would—that it would set his mind at rest to know I was around to protect her, as it were,” Julian explained. “I do not believe that Josie really knew how much her father supported her in her ambition to be a writer.”
Julian had obviously changed his mind about Mr Tate. “As for matters of trust, once I had made my own feelings and intentions clear, he assured me that he had no doubt that a son of Mr Darcy would be a gentleman of absolute integrity, to whom he could entrust his daughter with confidence. I was very honoured, Cassy.”
“Of course you were, but it was no more than the truth,” said his sister.
“We are indeed fortunate that both our parents are held in such esteem. Papa is without doubt the most widely respected person in the county, and there is no one I know who will raise a word of criticism against Mama.”
Cassy had some happy childhood memories of her grandfather, Mr Bennet, visiting them at Pemberley and reading to her, but her recollections of Mrs Bennet were few and far between, while Julian had known none of his grandparents, being born after they had all passed away. Fortunately, neither of them had ever been encumbered with the memory of Mr and Mrs Bennet’s unsuitable and frequently ludicrous marriage, which had for many years embarrassed and saddened their elder daughters.
Elizabeth and Darcy had been not merely the most loving of parents, but a matchless example of marital felicity.
Cassandra was delighted for her young brother. Seeing how the last few weeks had changed and lightened his rather serious demeanour, she was glad she had advised him as she had done.
Julian thanked his sister and begged her to keep his secret, lest any revelation of their situation should upset Josie’s plans. “Should that occur, she will not forgive me,” he warned.
“You can depend upon me, Julian, except I cannot keep a secret from Richard, so he will have to know. He is, however, so wedded to notions of ethics and privacy that you may rest assured your secret will be completely safe with him,” she said.
Having said his farewells, Julian left for Cambridge still wrapped in a cloud of bliss, believing that he had successfully kept his present state of happiness and the reasons for it from his parents. He told Josie confidently that their secret was quite safe.
He was unaware that Elizabeth and Darcy had both noticed the change in their son and correctly attributed it to his being in love. As to the identity of the lady concerned, a simple process of elimination would have sufficed—but even this was not necessary, for it soon became apparent that Julian’s interest in Josie Tate had been observed and was generally known around Matlock, and it was likely to become common knowledge on the Pemberley estate, as well.
Returning from a visit to the Fitzwilliams’, Elizabeth waited only until they were upstairs and free of the servants before saying to her husband, “Caroline asked about Julian and Josie; she had seen them together in Matlock shortly before he returned to Cambridge. She claims that they were so engrossed in each other that they did not see her as she drove past in her curricle. Needless to say, Caroline is quite convinced that they are in love.”
Darcy, who had started to smile as she began her story, laughed as she completed it and added his own chapter to the narrative. “If that is her conviction, she is probably quite right, Lizzie. There are few people whose diagnosis of that condition I would trust more than the Fitzwilliams’. They both possess such excellent credentials; two more incorrigible romantics would be hard to find,” he declared. “Indeed, I had hardly been five minutes with Fitzwilliam when he informed me, with the greatest delight, that while he was aware we had to be discreet, it was widely known that Julian was engaged to Miss Tate, and congratulations were in order.”
Elizabeth, who had been mildly irritated by her cousin Caroline’s tale, was astonished by Darcy’s revelation. “What did you say?” she asked.
He merely shrugged his shoulders and said, “What could I say? I muttered something about young people not being very discreet, and he just carried on as if it was all a fait accompli—as far as they are concerned, Julian and Josie are as good as engaged.”
Elizabeth realised there was little more he could have done.
“What did you say to Caroline?” Darcy asked, curious to know how she had dealt with the situation.
Elizabeth’s voice was serious. “I urged her not to share her thoughts with her general acquaintance, since neither you nor I had been informed of any engagement. I counselled caution in jumping to conclusions because the pair have been friends since childhood, and there may be no more to it than casual affection. Caroline was suitably impressed I think, because she agreed that it would not be fair to either of them if an impression was put about, which if it were to be proved false, could place both their reputations in jeopardy.”
Darcy chuckled. “Poor Caroline, she will pr
obably suffer a severe bout of guilt. Now you have terrified her,” he said, but his wife was not at all contrite.
“That was my purpose exactly,” she declared. “I had no intention whatsoever of revealing Julian’s secrets or permitting anyone, however close to us, to know that we are as ignorant of his plans as they are.”
Hearing the regret, however slight, in her voice and knowing the depth of her affection for their son, Darcy rose and went to her, as she stood looking out of the window. “Have you been upset, Lizzie?” he asked gently.
She shook her head but did not look at him as she said, “No, but it would have been nice to hear it from him. I am sure there is an excellent reason why he was unable to tell us at this stage; perhaps it is not settled between them. But I wish he had given us some hint of his intentions.”
Darcy knew she had been hurt. He had not been deceived by her jesting tone. She had not been able to keep the feeling out of her voice. He knew she would soon recover her spirits and be herself again, but while he said nothing more, he had already determined to see their daughter Cassandra and attempt to discover whether she knew anything that would help Elizabeth understand Julian’s situation more clearly.
Meanwhile, Julian and Josie kept their promise to write often and thereby contributed regularly to the revenue of the Post Office. While their correspondence caused no problems for Julian at his college, Josie had set up an elaborate scheme involving the cooperation of the young parlour maid in order that her mother remain in ignorance.
One morning, when she was practising upon her pianoforte, the maid brought in a letter from Julian, followed not long after by Mrs Tate bearing another.
“I think it’s from your Aunt Beatrice, Josie. I cannot think what she wants.”
Josie, who had hastily tucked Julian’s letter into her pocket, opened up the one from her aunt. To her surprise, it was an invitation to her niece to spend a few weeks in London at the beginning of the Spring season.
Josie had no idea how this had come about, but it was so fortuitous that she exclaimed with pleasure and turned immediately to ask her mother’s permission. Mrs Tate was completely taken aback, but knowing her sister-in-law well, she could raise no objection. “You must ask your father, Josie, and if he agrees, I dare say it should be all right. Your Aunt Beatrice must be in need of company.”
Josie had little doubt that her father would agree—indeed, the longer she thought about it the more she became convinced that he had probably arranged it all. When he returned and she faced him with the letter in her hand, he did confess that he had approached his sister on her behalf. “Because, my dear, I thought you deserved to get away and enjoy yourself, having been so ill at Christmas and missing all the fun,” he said as she hugged him and thanked him for his kindness.
Her father looked rather more serious, however, and said, “Josie, I have informed your Aunt Beatrice that Mr Julian Darcy has my permission to call on you at her house and escort you to places you may wish to visit; I had in mind the theatre, balls, and such like; but you will be sensible, will you not, my dear, and not do anything that may cause your aunt consternation. Remember, you are her guest. I am quite confident that Julian Darcy’s behaviour will be correct in every way. He seems a very proper young man.”
Proud of the confidence her father had expressed in them, Josie promised to be absolutely discreet and sensible. He then reminded her that she should acquaint her mother with the circumstances of her agreement with Julian Darcy. “I would not like your mama to hear from Aunt Beatrice or anyone else some gossip that may cause her anxiety, or worse, reflect badly upon young Darcy. He has made his intentions very clear to me, but I think you ought to tell your mother that it is your wish that an engagement be postponed for a while,” he said, adding with a smile, “perhaps you could find some time to confide in her before you go to London. It will hurt her deeply to discover that you have not been honest with her.”
Josie agreed, and later that day, finding her mother alone in the sitting room upstairs, she decided to break the news to her as gently as possible. Initially it seemed as if Mrs Tate had not heard her correctly, so indifferent did she seem. But then, as the significance of what Josie had said dawned upon her, she became quite excited. “Josie, do you mean to tell me that Mr Julian Darcy has proposed to you and you have said not a word to me for all of this time?”
When Josie did not answer, her mother, taking her silence to mean she was right, went on, “And am I to understand that you have rejected his offer without speaking to me or to your father?” She was incredulous.
Josie tried to explain. “No, Mama, I have not rejected him; I have only asked that we wait a year before we get engaged.”
Rebecca Tate was outraged. “My dear child, are you out of your mind? Have you not realised who this young man is? He is the heir to the Pemberley Estate and all that implies!”
Josie protested that she was well aware of that, and in any event, that would have had no bearing on her decision, anyway. “Mama, if I did not love Julian, the size of his father’s estate and the status of his family would never persuade me to marry him; but, indeed, I do love him, and he has agreed to wait,” she explained. “What’s more, Papa has agreed as well.”
“Do you mean to say your father is a party to this extraordinary arrangement?” Mrs Tate asked, unable to believe that her usually sensible husband could have agreed to such a plan.
“Well, you can ask him yourself. Julian has spoken with him, and Papa is agreeable.”
Mrs Tate was not convinced. “And what if young Mr Darcy changes his mind in the course of the year?” she asked, revealing her real fears.
Josie was unmoved; she just shrugged her shoulders and said, “Should he change his mind, I shall have been spared the humiliation of an unfortunate marriage. But, knowing him as I do, I cannot believe that is likely to happen, so do not upset yourself, Mama. He has said he loves me and wants to marry me. He is quite prepared to wait a year.”
Her mother’s outrage continued unabated. She regarded Josie’s behaviour as capricious and foolhardy; it was not every day that the son of the county’s most distinguished family proposed to one’s daughter. She felt Josie had slighted the most eligible young man she was ever likely to meet. It took all her husband’s powers of persuasion to reassure her that Josie was not squandering an excellent opportunity to secure her future. Only a verbatim report of his conversation with young Mr Darcy would allay her fears.
Later that night, Josie wrote to Julian informing him of her plans and promising to advise him very soon of the date of her arrival in London.
***
Meanwhile, Cassandra had an unexpected visit from her father, who claimed he was on his way to Bakewell and had called in to see her. As it happened, Richard was away at the hospital in Matlock, where he was demonstrating the efficacy of his hospital sanitation procedures to a group of surgeons visiting from Scotland.
Darcy appeared not to be put out by his absence, taking the opportunity to ask Cassandra how much she knew of her brother’s feelings for Miss Josie Tate and to tell her of her mother’s distress at being kept in ignorance of his intentions. “It is not that she has set her mind against Josie; indeed, she is very fond of her, as I am. But she is hurt by the fact that everyone in the district seems to know more about her son’s romance than she does,” he said gravely.
Cassandra was truly shocked and grieved by her father’s revelations. “Papa, I had no idea. Julian made me promise to keep it a secret until they were ready to announce it. He was concerned that Mama should not have the aggravation of these matters being talked of before they were quite settled. At the time he left for Cambridge, there would not have been more than two or three persons other than themselves who knew. Oh, poor Julian and poor Mama; I should have known better, I should have warned him that it would not be long before their secret became widely known. It is the kind of thing ever
yone wants to gossip about. I feel it is my fault. Julian will be most unhappy to think he has, however unwittingly, upset Mama.”
Mr Darcy tried to reassure her. “You must not blame yourself, Cassy. Indeed, no one is to blame. There is no doubt some very good reason for all this secrecy.”
“Whatever the reason,” said Cassandra, “it is not worth making Mama miserable. I shall write to Julian today, by express, and I will suggest that he write to Mama at once, telling her exactly how things are between him and Josie.”
Darcy was pleased. He had been certain that Cassandra, kind, loving, and responsible, would know what to do. Her affectionate relationship with her brother made it easier. There was just one more thing he wanted to ask. “Cassy, do you know if he has spoken to her father yet? Does Anthony Tate know?”
Cassy knew she had to tell him the truth. “Yes, I do believe they have spoken, and Papa, I know that Mr Tate has been extremely complimentary. Julian was very gratified, indeed.”
Darcy prepared to leave, having learnt enough to set his own mind at ease and knowing that Cassy would write to her brother.
She urged him not to be anxious. “Papa, as soon as I have news from Julian or, indeed, from Josie, I shall send you word,” she promised, and her father, grateful for her loyalty and good sense, thanked her and went on his way.
So troubled was Cassandra by what her father had told her, she wasted no time at all before writing to her brother. Surprisingly, she did not wait to consult Richard, so certain was she of what had to be done. Indeed, she could not bear to be in any way responsible for causing her mother such grief, even though she was not directly to blame.
Writing to Julian, she begged him:
Write directly to Mama and tell her of the nature of your understanding with Josie and her father. You need have no fear of their disapproval, for Papa assures me that they are both very fond of Josie. It is the unfortunate fact that the matter has unhappily become common talk, while they have been left in ignorance that has hurt their feelings.
The Women of Pemberley Page 29
