by Linda Wells
I must tell you that Danny delivered your letters and money for the post, as well as his well-rehearsed speech. I gave the funds over to my father, who was concerned that you were attempting to impress me with your resources. I corrected him by saying that I believe you were simply being kind. He accepted my assessment, as he knows very well that my motivation in friendship is not based on the wealth of my object, but rather on their character.
Now sir, tell me. Tell me your trouble, and I will endeavour to help you any way that I can. You have my permission. Please talk to me.
Your friend,
EB
Darcy attempted to read the letter again but was stopped by the blurred words. He reached into his pocket, drawing out the only tangible symbol of Elizabeth he owned. He pressed her handkerchief to his eyes and then kissed it before secreting it back in his coat. He took some time to collect himself and settled down to write. This time there was no pretence. As he steadily scratched his pen on the paper, he felt driven to tell everything of Wickham and the events of the past six weeks. When finished, he sat looking over the sheets, wondering if there were any details he left out, or if in fact, what he had written had been too raw for a lady to read. He felt empty. It was painful and soothing at the same time to write out his feelings, his perception, and his reality of what had happened. It was the first time that he truly bore witness to another person the pain that seemingly gripped his heart so hard that he could scarcely feel it beating anymore. He held out so much hope for this truly extraordinary offer of help from such a kind woman. He sighed and sealed his long letter, finally rising to take up Elizabeth’s letter for Georgiana, wondering what it contained to cheer his sister, and left the room.
When he knocked on the door to the parlour where Mrs. Annesley was working on a lesson with Georgiana, he was pleased to see her appearing calmer, and at least for the moment, more like herself. It was indeed correct to bring her home to Pemberley. She looked up with a small smile. “William, what brings you here?”
He smiled and held out her letter. “Miss Elizabeth has sent you a reply, my dear.” A small gasp of pleasure was released and she rushed forward to take the letter and spun to face her companion. “Oh Mrs. Annesley, may I read my letter now? It should not take long.”
Pleased to see any happy emotion from her charge she smiled. “Of course, Miss Darcy. I will go busy myself in the library until you are ready to begin again.” She nodded to Darcy, exchanging a look with him, and a glance at Georgiana before leaving the room. Darcy had no intention of leaving, but wished to watch his sister read Elizabeth’s words. He settled in a chair and delighted in the growing smile.
Dear Miss Darcy,
So, you wish to know of my family, well, my sister Jane is two years my elder, and is the sweetest, gentlest young lady you could ever wish to know, and my dearest friend. We spend much of our time talking and managing our younger sisters, as alas, they are largely without supervision. We have no governess, and our mother has seen fit to allow all of us to be out, from the eldest to the youngest, who like you, is fifteen. Her name is Lydia, and her partner in all things concerning ribbons, lace, and men in red coats is my sister Kitty, who is sixteen. They are silly young things, Lydia being bold as brass, and Kitty an enthusiastic follower. My last sister is the middle child, Mary, who is eighteen. She is fond of reading and music, though the choices she makes in both are questionable. She prefers sermons to sonnets, and ponderous pieces to jigs. They can be a trial to bear at times, which brings me closer still to my sister Jane. My father is a good man, very fond of reading and teasing, though perhaps negligent in some aspects of his life. My mother’s primary concern, other than gossip and a good table, is to marry her daughters off as soon as possible. It is frustrating to say the least, but I realize she does it with good reason, as she worries for our fate should our father die. She is silly and frets, but sometimes, I can look beyond her manners and see the reasons behind it all. But then she will be silly again and make me wish to take up my bonnet and escape for a long walk, far away from her demanding voice.
As for me, I enjoy all types of music, but prefer those musicians who make you feel something through their work. I enjoy the lightness of Mozart and the deep movement of Beethoven. You seem to be withdrawing from your favourite activity due to some sadness you feel. I would think that you might use your music instead to help relieve your burden. Choose pieces that you find soothing or perhaps that lift you to a place far away from whatever presses on your heart. If you are able to find escape in this way, and if indeed the distance you now enjoy from London is helping, you may find that you become restored to the happiness you felt before.
If I had such a great teacher as you did, I imagine I would also employ my riding skills as a means to relieve my stress. I walk, and I feel the exertion helps to tire my body and the solitude encourages me to think of solutions to my trouble. You could just as easily do the same with your riding. When did you last ride, Miss Darcy?
I will close now with the hope that the next letter I receive from you contains news of your latest composition and words assuring me that you beat your brother in a race.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Bennet
Darcy could sense the restorative that was Elizabeth’s letter as a look of peace appeared upon Georgiana’s face. “What does Miss Elizabeth have to say, dear?” He asked softly. Georgiana looked to him and stood, handing him the letter. She kissed his cheek. “It is so good to have a friend.” She whispered. He nodded and she left the room. As his eyes took in her words, he could hear for the first time since Georgiana left for Ramsgate, the sound of the pianoforte. He closed his eyes and listened. “Yes, it is so good to have a friend.”
Chapter 8
John Lucas followed his father into St. James’s Palace for the last concert of the Season. He was hoping they would be attending something more exciting, a ball perhaps, where all of the debutantes whose first Season was coming to an unsuccessful close might be more willing to look upon the heir to a country squire’s small estate with favour. He had made no progress at all with Eliza, in fact, he felt he was actually losing ground with her for some reason. Although he was certain that his father’s overtures with Mr. Bennet would eventually be welcomed, and he would in fact win the hand of his pretty, obstinate neighbour, he still would not mind meeting other ladies in the meantime. He was young after all! Unfortunately it was not a ball, but a concert, and the ladies he was overhearing were not pretty or young, but married and vicious.
“Well Margaret, I heard that Mr. Darcy has finally taken his sister from town.”
“It is about time! She ruined everything for him this Season. He could not possibly court a woman with her scandal surrounding him.”
“Was he really finally seeking a wife?” One excited voice asked.
“I do believe he was, Henrietta, I did see him dance several times!” Gasps were heard.
“And the foolish girl ruined herself and her brother by her shameful behaviour!”
A disappointed whine cried, “Oh is he really ruined?”
“Would you accept him now?!” A haughty woman exclaimed.
“Would I not? Why he is rich beyond anything! His must send Miss Darcy far away of course, but he surely will be welcomed back next year.”
“As long as Pemberley is in need of a mistress …”
“What exactly did his sister do? There are so many stories.” Asked another.
An authoritative woman spoke. “Well, I heard that she was inviting him into their cottage every night!” Gasps were heard. “To visit?”
Laughter filled the air. “Well of course to visit. He would be seen leaving in the morning!” A breathless voice asked, “NO! Really?”
“Oh yes! And when Mr. Darcy arrived and learned what she had done, he beat all of the men servants and dismissed the women. He then drew a pistol and went in search of the man!”
An admiring purr sounded. “Well who knew he could be so physic
al! He is such a sombre man.”
“Still waters run deep, my dear.” A voice said sagely.
“Where was she found?”
“Nobody knows for sure, I heard that she was found in a bed with the man, and Mr. Darcy called him out! But you can not be quite sure of that.” The voice sounded disappointed, then brightened. “However, there she was, proud and primped, with the gall to walk into church on her brother’s arm! Oh my! I was sure the vicar was going to cast them out, if Mr. Darcy had not purchased those new stained glass windows last year.”
“They are very nice.” Murmurs of agreement were heard. “Oh yes, yes, they are.”
“Well surely he does not think she will ever be accepted back in town?”
“I suppose he will try to marry her to some man or another. I would send her to his farthest estate forever.” The clipped superior tone of an older matron declared.
“I agree, Margaret. He is ruined as well, at least until he rids himself of her.”
“Have you heard of his habits?” A voice whispered loudly.
“His? He is never out with the ladies. He always comes alone!”
“Ah, but where does he go afterwards?” The sage voice asked.
An excited woman spoke. “He has a mistress?”
“He must; a man of his age and wealth? He certainly would not spend his nights without companionship.”
“Oh no, he would not.” Another agreed, “She must have learned it from him.”
“Serves them right to suffer for their behaviour. Just like their parents, so I have heard.” Silence fell over the hens. “But he is very rich, and handsome … and still unmarried. I could overlook a mistress for him…” The tittering voices faded away into the general noise of the crowd.
John rolled his eyes. Whatever this scandal, it involved a single rich man and his obviously permanently ruined sister. He felt pity for the man. Darcy his name was? Something like that. What a shame to have such a scandal ruin his time with the ladies. But, he knew enough of society to realize the man would recover where the girl is shunned. It was a shame. He thought of his sisters Charlotte and Maria. No, neither of them would ever disgrace the family.
He moved away and sipped the drink he held in his hand. He felt the eyes of the surrounding people assessing him, taking in his clothing, his appearance, and knew that he was found wanting. He did not belong there. A university degree and his father’s ceremonial knighthood did not go far in these halls. He may have been invited to the party, but he was not allowed to participate. Watching a group of debutantes speaking in a small group, he realized his income would not buy them the jewels they were wearing that night, let alone give them the pin money they would require as a wife. Another group appeared behind him, discussing some other poor man and his scandal, this time the name was Harrison. Moving around the room he heard more tongues wagging with more names speared with derisive comments and cackling laughter, so many that his head fairly spun with the gossip. John looked over to his father who was taking in the atmosphere with eyes as wide as a child’s. This trip would give him stories to tell for months. He sighed; thinking of hearing them incessantly, and thought instead of the grouse season to open soon, and looked forward to returning home to hunt the birds and renew his addresses with Elizabeth. She was in his circle, which was where his aspirations should remain. He had no doubt that she was certain to be his.
“WHAT DID AUNT GARDINER have to say, Lizzy?” Jane walked out to the garden where Elizabeth was taking lavender cuttings for preparing scented water.
“Oh, she said she never met Mr. Darcy’s parents, although she saw his father occasionally in her village. He was said to be very proud of Pemberley and ran it well.” She looked away.
“Lizzy?” Jane touched her arm.
Elizabeth turned a distressed face to her sister. “Oh Jane, Aunt Gardiner knew the sister of a maid who worked there. Mr. Darcy’s parents did not get on well at all, they fought, and they had guests who … behaved poorly.” She whispered.
Jane was confused. “What do you mean?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned in close to her. “There were rumours of infidelity.” Jane gasped. “Mr. Darcy must have been just a boy at the time. His mother died when he was but twelve. I wonder how much he understood.” She looked at Jane sadly, but her sister’s face bore a look of comprehension.
“How old were you when you understood our parents, Lizzy?” Jane said gently.
Elizabeth closed her eyes again and nodded. She was eight when she realized that her parents did not love each other. “How terrible to grow up in such an atmosphere, no wonder he begged for my friendship.”
Jane nodded. “You should hear from him soon, I think.” She gave her a knowing smile. “I believe you are beginning to like him.”
Elizabeth’s smile returned, but she could not meet her eyes. “Oh, Jane, you are always looking for romance!”
Jane pursed her lips and prodded her. “Tell me the truth, Lizzy, you like him!”
“Well, he does have the loveliest eyes …” The girls giggled and gathered more of the herb. When they finished, the sound of a lone horse brought them through the garden to see their visitor. “Danny!” Elizabeth cried, somewhat forgetting herself in her excitement.
The young boy grinned. “Good day, Miss Elizabeth.” He jumped off of his horse and reaching in his bag drew out two letters. “Here you go, Miss, only written two days ago.”
“Will you wait for a reply?” He smiled and shook his head. “No, Miss. I have to move on to London and back to Pemberley quickly for Mr. Darcy.”
Struck by a thought, Elizabeth bit her lip. “Could you wait just for a few moments? Water your horse, he should appreciate it?”
His brow crinkled. “All right, Miss.”
Elizabeth handed the letters to Jane and taking the basket of cuttings from her, ran into the house. She returned a few minutes later with a bulging envelope. “Please give this to Mr. Darcy.”
Jane watched with great interest as he took the missive and placed it in his pouch. “Well, I’ll be off then.” He touched his cap and jumped on his mount. He grinned. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon!”
Elizabeth smiled and he was on his way. She turned to meet Jane’s questioning eyes, and blushed. “I did not wish to miss the opportunity to send him a short note. Is there something wrong with that?” She asked a little defensively.
Jane smiled. “No, Lizzy, not at all.” She hooked her arm in Elizabeth’s and accompanied her to a bench where she drew out the letters. Elizabeth could not help herself. She had to read Mr. Darcy’s first.
Jane sat and watched with growing alarm as Elizabeth’s eyes scanned with increasing speed the numerous pages of the letter. They filled with tears again and again. Her face expressed pain, fear, anger, and sorrow. Elizabeth’s heart was racing. Mr. Darcy did not attempt to spare her any of the experiences of the past six weeks of his life. She realized that the grim faced man she met that day was only hours into this torture. He had completed that desperate search only to feel the disdain of society, and to witness his sister’s shunning. This was the reason for his reaching out to her with such honesty; she represented a ray of kindness in the midst of his turmoil. He must feel so terribly alone. She wondered how supportive his family was, and if his friends had deserted him. The account he gave of the man responsible for this pain, Mr. Wickham, was numbing. She could feel there was much more in their history than the favour given by his father and his payment in lieu of a bequest. Knowing what she did of his parents from Aunt Gardiner, she suspected a great deal more. She reread again the closing lines of his letter.
Now you know it all Miss E. I will understand if you feel that association with my disgraced sister and her guilty brother is too much for you. I release you from your promise of befriending us, if you choose. All I ask is that you keep the details to yourself, although in truth, they are likely already known.
Your hopeful friend,
FD
> She felt a fierce sense of protectiveness rising in her breast for him, and his sister, who she now understood. “Lizzy?” Jane’s concerned voice interrupted her rapid thoughts. She met her gaze and Jane held out a handkerchief. Elizabeth did not realize she had been crying. She instead drew out the cloth William had given her, and wiped her eyes. William. She handed Jane the letter, and sat tracing the pattern of lavender as Jane read and gasped. When she finished, she too was in tears. The sisters embraced. “Oh Jane, first his parents, and now this!”
“Poor Mr. Darcy!” Jane whispered. “And his poor sister! What can be done for her?” Elizabeth stared at the ground. Georgiana’s swollen, stricken face in her mind. Then she remembered her letter, and quickly broke it open.
I have taken your advice and returned to my music. You were so correct. I should have been losing myself in the sounds of the composers, instead of the voices that haunt me. I think that it pleased my brother. He smiled a little today. He agreed with me that I am so fortunate that you would wish to be my friend. May I call you Elizabeth? I would like very much for you to call me Georgiana. I hardly deserve your attention but I thank you for it. Perhaps tomorrow William will take me riding.
Your friend,
Georgiana
She closed her eyes for a moment, and then turned to Jane. “She is improved but her confidence is destroyed.” She took the letter back and folded it, hiding it along with William’s inside of her dress. “I need to think about this.”
“COME NOW HENRY, you cannot possibly support Darcy’s obstinacy. You know that his marrying Anne is the best solution to his disgrace.” Lady Catherine strode around the sitting room at Matlock House.
Lord Matlock tiredly rubbed his face. “Catherine, I have spoken to the man. He will not bend to your will. He will not be disgraced forever. You know as well as I do that a man as wealthy as Darcy will not suffer the censure of society for long. He is far too valuable to the families in need of his support. Too many wish him for a son.”
