by Jan Hahn
As we reached the stairs, he told me to go below and step into the dining room. We could not descend at the same time lest it appear unseemly. I started to protest, but the look in his eye silenced me. That night, he was a man who would not be refused.
Inside the dining hall, I wondered at Mr. Darcy’s reasoning, for the wall adjoining the passageway contained four large windows. How might we find privacy therein? Some minutes passed before I saw him making his way down the hallway.
“Come,” he said. “Surely there is some hidden alcove in this room.”
I watched in wonder as, in the dark, he began to open doors to closets filled with supplies. At last, he pushed open a door and motioned to me. I joined him in the galley. I marvelled at how the ship’s cook managed to prepare meals in such tight quarters. Mr. Darcy bade me wait just inside the door while he scoured the area. I wondered how he could see his way without a candle.
“At last,” he said upon his return, “there is no one here. We are quite alone.”
He pulled me into his arms, and I felt my skin begin to burn in anticipation. Gently, he kissed my cheek, my ear, and my neck before finding my mouth. Over and over, he stroked my lips in teasing nibbles until I took his face between my hands and stilled him, making him truly kiss me. I felt engulfed by love for him, filled with passionate desire to merge us somehow together for all time. I understood what he meant when he said he could not hold me close enough, for I clung to him, never wanting his kisses to cease.
They did, however, when we heard a strangled sort of noise within the room. We froze in each other’s arms. He placed a finger to his lips and softly stepped away, shielding me with his body. It was nigh on to impossible to see any movement in the dark. After indicating that I should stay put, Mr. Darcy silently advanced further into the galley. The noise occurred again before he returned, and something about it sounded familiar. Within moments, he returned, placed his hand at my waist, and hurried us through the door back into the dining area.
“What was there?” I whispered. “It almost sounded like an animal.”
“A human animal.”
“Someone was there? Did he see us?”
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “He could not see anyone. It was the cook, sound asleep in a hammock at the end of the galley. The noise we heard was his snore.”
I began to giggle, not only at the circumstances but also at the pained expression I could hear in Mr. Darcy’s voice.
“I see nothing amusing about this, Elizabeth.”
“Forgive me,” I whispered, taking his hand. “It is just that you sound so disgusted.”
“Indeed. Shall I tell you how I feel?”
“I think I know. Let us say good night, William, before we are discovered.”
He sighed. “You are sensible, of course. Return to your cabin. I will wait until you have had time before I step into the passageway.”
Wistfully, I smiled at him. “I love you,” I whispered.
“That is my sole comfort.” He kissed my forehead and sent me from the room.
Chapter Seventeen
Upon reaching Holyhead, I thought Mrs. Annesley might kiss the ground beneath her feet. Once more, she had suffered from seasickness almost the entire voyage.
Fortunately, my aunt was spared the affliction this time. She told me privately that she suspected her illness on the trip to Dublin had been due to expecting a child all along. Nonetheless, she was more than relieved to reach land.
After securing lodgings for us, Mr. Darcy paid a call upon the office containing the mail packets heading for Ireland. That evening after dinner, he asked Mr. Gardiner and me to join him.
“I have a letter from my aunt in Bath.”
“Is something amiss?” Mr. Gardiner asked.
“Our former search through her husband’s journals and correspondence caused her to undertake a thorough cleaning of the library after my sister and I departed. While directing her servants to clear away stacks of old correspondence and other papers, she discovered a letter written by my father to his brother tucked inside Admiral Darcy’s prayer book. Mrs. Darcy said she never thought to look there, for her husband was not a religious man, and she rarely saw him open the book.”
He handed the wrinkled pages to my uncle. “Why not read it for yourself?”
Mr. Gardiner held the letter near the candle and cleared his throat.
15 July 1805
Derbyshire
Dear Henry,
I rejoice that you have found Peter. How I long to see the dear boy and hold him close once again! Of course, he is no longer a boy. Evidently, he has grown away from all of us more than in the geographic sense, especially in light of the calling he has embraced. I cannot say I approve or that the news pleases me. I, however, wish him well. His choice will not lessen my love for him. I am surprised to learn that Mother aided him in going to Ireland by discreetly laying by her own funds for his use.
You must not regret your decision to withhold knowledge of the child from him. I agree that it was for the best. She would be fourteen years old by now, and what would a Catholic priest do with a girl of that age? Besides, it would interrupt his life, calling for full explanations among his peers, perhaps even cause scandal in his parish, and all for naught, for what could he do for the lass? From what you say, he lives a life of sacrificial poverty—hardly a suitable means by which to offer support.
Yes, perchance we do have a moral responsibility to inform him that he is a parent, but, in my opinion, it would serve neither him nor the child well. According to Lady Margaret, when Peter disappeared, he believed his wife was dead, and none of them knew he had left the girl with child until months later. Knowledge that Elizabeth had been, in fact, alive at the time would only grieve him and impose a burden of guilt from which he might never recover. Nine months later, his wife truly was dead, so it is preferable to let things remain as they are—hidden and buried for all time.
I believe the child is better off growing up where she is. She will never know her connection to our house or to a singular priest living in a secluded village in Ireland. And why should she? I cannot imagine any need arising for her to have such knowledge.
Listen to my counsel, and put your mind at ease. You have taken the correct action.
Affectionately,
George
“So the brothers Darcy acted from noble intentions,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Fourteen years after the fact, they could see naught but harm resulting from their revelation of Elizabeth’s birth to Father Peter Darcy.”
“I find one sentence chilling,” Mr. Darcy said. “ʻI cannot imagine any need arising for her to have such knowledge.’ If my father had only known the turmoil his decision would cause years later.” He turned to me. “Elizabeth, have you nothing to say on the matter?”
I had sat down when my uncle ceased reading. “I hardly know what to say. It is all so strange…hearing people I have never met speak of my life and arranging things that would result in such far-reaching consequences. I feel as though they speak of some other girl, someone I never knew.”
“Lizzy, you are not going to be missish now, are you? I am sure neither Mr. Darcy nor I want this information to cause that.”
William sat down beside me. “Forgive me. I should have been more considerate. I never meant to give you greater pain.”
I shook my head. “Neither of you must fret over me. It is just that each time we uncover another piece of the puzzle, it—”
“It makes you sad,” he said softly.
“Not sad, simply overcome. At times, this situation still seems imaginary to me. Can you understand what I mean? I feel as though I stand at a distance, watching it happen to someone else. Oh, I do not know how to explain it.”
I rose and picked up the letter from the table where my uncle had placed it. I ran my hand over the lines on the paper, as though touching the words might make it real.
“I believe you are simply fatigued from the long journey, Lizzy,” my
uncle said. “I suggest you retire early tonight. Perchance sleeping on dry ground will give you sounder rest and renew your spirits.”
He patted my arm and said he thought it time to join the ladies.
Mr. Darcy nodded, assuring him that we would be along in a few moments. As soon as Mr. Gardiner closed the door, William took my hand in his and lifted it to his lips.
“Dearest, it grieves me to see you like this. Would you rather that I refrain from sharing any further discovery with you?”
“What more is there to learn?”
“Once I deliver you safely to Longbourn, I plan to visit my barrister in London and then Lady Catherine. I shall also call upon Sir Linton Willoughby again and insist that he see me.”
“Oh, William! You promised you would not challenge him.”
“And I shall keep my word. That does not mean I shall not call him to account for his misdeeds.”
“What can that possibly accomplish?”
“It will give me satisfaction, my dear.”
“Is that so important? Should we not be grateful for the happiness we have found and let the past be?”
He led me back to the sofa and bade me sit beside him. “I am grateful. Believe me; no one is more grateful that you are mine and that we are to be married soon, but I shall deal with Willoughby. Do not attempt to dissuade me, for my mind is set on it.”
“And Lady Catherine?”
He pressed his lips together, and a scowl extended over his face.
“William, tread carefully. She is your aunt, and I would not have you break close family bonds on my account.”
“If I discover that she knew the truth and deliberately deceived us, she will be responsible for any rift it causes in our relationship. Elizabeth, you are everything to me. If my aunt cannot accept that, then she and I shall no longer meet.”
][
At last, we reached Longbourn. I do not know who was happier to see us—the Gardiner children or Mamá. Relief covered my mother’s countenance. Mary and Kitty seemed none the worse for the duties I knew she had fobbed off on them, but I doubted either of them would regret giving up their charges in favour of their own pursuits once again.
My parents seemed surprised that Mr. Darcy and Georgiana accepted their invitation for supper that evening before going to Netherfield, but once Mamá was assured that Hill could cover the extra company, she rallied to entertain such prominent guests. Her attitude toward Mr. Darcy had long since softened when she learned he and I were related, and she no longer railed against his proud, arrogant manners. Now, she professed they were his right as long as there was a chance he might procure a suitable husband for me.
Once dinner was over and the men repaired to Papá’s study, I found myself growing uneasy. The three men seemed to tarry much longer than usual over their brandy. At last, they emerged. My uncle and Mr. Darcy smiled at me, and I saw the light in my betrothed’s eyes. Papá, however, wore a downcast expression as he beckoned for me to join him.
I dreaded this private conversation between us but for the fact that it would secure my engagement to the man I loved. As soon as I closed the door, Papá fulfilled my apprehensions.
“Lizzy, are you out of your mind, accepting this man? Oh, I gave him my consent. One does not refuse such a man. We all know him to be a proud, disagreeable fellow, but if you like him, that does not signify. However, if you do not… Oh, my dear, let me not bear the burden of seeing you enter into a marriage with a man you cannot respect.”
“Is that your only cause for disapproval?”
“Yes, of course. Now that we know the whole of the story, no impediment exists. If you truly like the man, well—”
“I do…I do like him. I love him. Indeed, he has no improper pride. If you only knew how generous he is. He is simply the best man I have ever known.”
Papá blinked several times and patted my shoulder. “Well then, my dear, I am glad I was wrong. I could not bear to part with you to anyone less.” He walked around the desk and sat down, sighing deeply. I rose to leave when he called me back.
“Mr. Darcy informed me that you found your father.”
“Yes.” I waited to see what else he might say.
“I trust he is a good man.”
I looked him straight in the eye. “A very good man.”
“I am glad, Lizzy.”
“Is that all?”
He nodded and waved his hand to dismiss me. I turned to leave but not before I saw the sadness descend upon his countenance. I should comfort him, I thought, but I did not. I walked out the door without another word.
Why did I persist in that implacable resistance to forgive him? My head told me that Papá had acted in all good conscience, that he had rescued me from an unknown future. He had given me the home and name of a gentleman. Still, my heart remained bitter.
I thought of how close we had once been. I had known his thoughts before he spoke, for our minds were much alike. Our shared amusement at the foibles of others, our proclivity for the same books, and our like sense of humour had set us apart from Mamá and my sisters. Even the bond between Jane and me had never been the same as that between Papá and me. Perhaps that is why his silence resounded in my heart as betrayal. I had thought he would never keep the truth from me, especially about a matter as important as my birth.
Within a matter of moments, Papá left his study and followed me into the drawing room, where he shocked my mother with the announcement that Mr. Darcy and I were to be married. I shall not bore you with a recital of how she was stricken mute for at least a full five minutes and then proceeded to gush with enthusiasm over such a union. If one dismissed the merits of memory, one might have believed that she had favoured Mr. Darcy above all other men from the first night he appeared at the assembly ball in Meryton.
My sisters were alive with excitement and pressed us to name a wedding date.
“At least allow me leave to tell Jane first,” I cried.
“Yes, yes, you must tell Jane!” Mamá said. “Oh, think of it! Three daughters married! I am the happiest mother in all of England.”
][
The Gardiners departed for Town the next day, but not before Jane and Mr. Bingley arrived at Longbourn along with the Darcys. My sister and I embraced and clung to each other, or as well as anyone could cling to a woman six months into her confinement. I marvelled at her size, but the bloom on her cheeks assured me that all was well. We had so much to tell each other, and I longed for some time alone with her.
At length, we all followed my aunt and uncle and their children to the carriage, whereupon we bade our farewells, securing their promise to return for my wedding.
“Shall we take some air?” I asked Jane as the others returned to the house. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy remained to escort us to the side yard where we seated Jane on a stone bench. Mr. Darcy and I had agreed earlier to share the news of Father Darcy with my sister and brother. At Netherfield, the night before, he had told them we were to be married, an announcement that gave them much satisfaction.
Relating our find in Ireland, naturally, shocked both of them. Telling them of the lie that had separated my parents before my birth rendered them almost speechless.
“How could one do that to a sister?” Jane asked at last.
“I know little of Sir Linton,” Mr. Bingley said, “and none of it good.”
“That is why I leave for London on the morrow,” Mr. Darcy said. “I shall have it out with Willoughby and get to the bottom of this. I know my father. He would never have forsaken his brother’s child without cause.”
“But, Mr. Darcy, if he had not, I should never have had Lizzy for a sister, so it is not all so bad, is it?”
“Trust dear Jane to find some good in any situation.” After sitting beside her, I patted her hand, and I was rewarded with a smile.
“Shall I come with you, Darcy?” Mr. Bingley asked. “I shall be glad to lend a hand.”
“No, your place is here with your wife. I would
not take you from her.” He turned his eyes upon me. “I regret having to leave Elizabeth for any length of time. Once this is behind us, I shall never let her out of my sight.”
We all smiled at his declaration, but I regretted that he was to go at all.
That evening, Mr. Darcy and I slipped out of the house, leaving Georgiana at the pianoforte and the others enjoying her performance. He led me back into the yard out of view from the parlour windows. There, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me gently.
“I must hold you as long as I can,” he said. “Long enough so that I can still feel your softness and retain your sweet scent within my senses all the days we are parted.”
“Must you go?”
“We have spoken of this, my love. You know the answer.”
“Yes, but I do not care for it at all.”
He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “That shall spur my return.”
][
I had anticipated Mr. Darcy’s absence lasting but a week or less. As it happened, I did not hear from him for almost a fortnight. A short letter arrived then, a poor excuse for his return, but one I was thrilled to receive all the same. Therein, he stated that he had deposited Georgiana with the Earl of Matlock at Eden Park, met with Sir Linton, and then with Mr. Darcy’s attorneys.
I found the missing pages from my father’s diary. He promised to share them with me upon his return, which I hoped would prove imminent. Instead, he wrote that he would leave for Kent the next day. I was disappointed that I would not see him as soon as I wished. However, the remainder of his letter was filled with tender words that filled me with delight. My future husband certainly knew how to write a love letter.
I made valiant efforts to fill the days we were forced to be apart. Frequent visits to Netherfield occupied much of my time. Lady Lucas invited us to tea, and Mamá was pleased to see most of the Hertfordshire ladies in attendance, thus allowing her opportunity to crow over my successful alliance. We attended a card party at Mrs. Philips’s house, and my aunt called at Longbourn every other day. Mamá carted me to the dressmaker several times. Not only was I fitted for my wedding gown, but I also ordered three more new dresses. Papá had agreed to fund whatever I needed, and naturally, Mamá wished me to select only the finest of materials.
