THE DARCY ESTATE
MARY BANNATYNE
Copyright © 2018 Mary Bannatyne
All rights reserved
CHAPTER ONE
Elizabeth Bennet knew she should have been excited by the prospect of her upcoming journey. After all, when would she ever again get the chance to travel north and take in the sights entirely at her leisure?
Her sister Jane watched her intently as they picked blooms in the garden. It was the height of summer and Longbourn’s gardens were thriving thanks to a mild winter and wet spring.
“Are you very excited, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth found the question surprisingly difficult to answer. “I am,” she said after a time. “How could I be anything but? I was so very disappointed when our uncle was forced to cancel our journey last summer.”
“It was very bad luck. You ought to have gone—if only we could have known what had happened. The ship was lost regardless of anything Uncle Gardiner could do in Portsmouth.”
“Ah, but that is not the way to think. After all, if we had gone last year then how would I occupy myself this summer?” She said it lightly, for there were many things around Longbourn that were still capable of capturing her attention from dawn until dusk.
It was the hours between dusk and dawn that were the problem.
Elizabeth had never been one to dwell on her misfortunes, but even she had fallen into the habit of wondering what might have been if her life had unfolded differently. She often wondered what might have happened if she had not learnt of Fitzwilliam Darcy’s betrayal of her sister. Oh, how blissful their lives might have been if she had never known the truth!
Time had dulled her anger at the man and she had been able to forgive him for his terrible intervention. After all, it was not as if she would ever see him again, so what was the harm? Besides, in light of what had happened later that year, Darcy’s actions had begun to seem positively harmless.
“Lizzy, it seems to me you are in your own little world again. I would say it is most unlike you, but that has not been true of late. Are you thinking about her?”
They fell silent. They always did whenever that subject was broached. For what was there to be said on the matter that had not already been said scores of times before?
It had been over a year now, but the pain and humiliation had not gone away.
“I wonder where she is now,” Jane said in a small voice.
It was something Lizzy often thought about too. Where had their sister Lydia gone?
It was not like the family had abandoned her. Their father and uncle had trawled every inch of London in search of her. It had been a terrible time. Jane and Mrs. Bennet had been left with no other option but to lock Lizzy in her room, such was her determination to travel to London and help with the search. She bore them no ill will for it. After all, what would she have done? It was not as if she could have ventured into the area where Lydia was eventually found.
She shuddered. Thomas Bennet had said little on the subject except to his second daughter. She knew there was much he had kept from her too, but even what he had told her had been almost too horrible to bear. The thought of her sister in that terrible place for weeks on end!
While Elizabeth felt a great degree of sympathy for her youngest sister, she felt no small amount of anger towards her too.
“What a fool she was,” Elizabeth muttered, carefully trimming a stalk to the same length as the ones that were already in her basket. “I know it was not exactly a thrilling prospect, but what choice did she have? She was lucky to have secured a position at all after what she did.”
The sisters did not know all of the details, but after several months at the Gardiners’ home in London, Lydia had been despatched to the employment of a minor noble family in Ireland. It was only luck that had brought Philip Sanderson into the path of Edward Gardiner. The man was from a noble family, but they had been unfortunate over the years and the estate was practically in ruins. Even so, a proud nobleman might have baulked at the idea of employing a young lady like Lydia Bennet to educate his girls. Mercifully, Philip Sanderson was a strange man with a contrary disregard for the opinions of society.
Of course, the Bennets failed to consider the possibility that Lydia might grow bored of a life of service in Ireland. She had always been a self-absorbed young woman, so it must have tried her patience to have to focus her attention on someone else’s children and not on herself. Sure enough, after only a few months, Mr. Gardiner received a letter from Ireland, outlining Sanderson’s frustrations at Lydia’s sudden disappearance from his home.
Lydia’s exile had done little to restore the family’s reputation, even before she left her position. The damage had already been done. Mr. Bennet did not discuss it much, but his visits to town became far less frequent and he never returned in such high spirits as he had before.
Elizabeth shook her head and wiped her eyes. What was the sense in dwelling on these things? After all, they could not be changed.
“Perhaps, Lizzy,” Jane whispered as they walked slowly back to the house, carefully balancing wicker baskets of blooms in the crooks of their elbows. “You shall meet a nice gentleman who will ask for your hand.”
Lizzy laughed despite her dark mood. “Perhaps I shall, Jane. A nice gentleman who has been cut off from society for the last year and knows nothing of the terrible events that have befallen our family!”
CHAPTER TWO
The days passed quickly and soon Edward Gardiner’s carriage arrived at Longbourn. By the time the door opened, all of the residents of that house had assembled on the lawn, with the exception of Kitty, who had become rather bad-tempered in the months since Lydia’s disappearance.
The Bennets embraced the Gardiners and they all made their way to the house. The families had last been together on the day of Mary’s marriage.
Mrs. Gardiner took her niece’s arm as they walked to the house. “Has there been any improvement in your mother’s spirits since Mary departed for Newcastle?”
Elizabeth shook her head sadly. After everything that had happened, there were no secrets between the two families. “We did not expect it to. Arthur is a kind and decent young man, but he could hardly be called wealthy. No, I think it is safe to say that he has the means to support only his own family.”
“That is not quite what I meant. I am well aware of Arthur’s limitations, though it is lucky he proposed marriage at all. Still, it must give your mother some solace that she had one less daughter to care for.”
“No, indeed. Mama has changed her ambitions somewhat after what happened last year, but I daresay she has higher hopes for our marriage prospects than she ought to have. I have tried to convince her to lower her expectations, but she will not listen.”
Madeline Gardiner nodded. She made no optimistic declarations about the possibility of Lizzy meeting a kind young gentleman on their tour. She was too sensible for that.
“I shall try and speak to her. She has become frail. I daresay it is the result of all her worrying and bothering. Neither will do her any good.”
“That would be kind of you, Aunt Gardiner,” Lizzy said, squeezing her arm.
***
Longbourn House showed a hint of its past joviality that night. Thomas Bennet had always been close to his wife’s brother, and they had grown even closer during those arduous weeks of searching in London.
Mrs. Gardiner adored her nieces and they were equally fond of her. Even Kitty was driven to leave her bedroom by the prospect of playing with her delightful young cousins.
It was as close to merriment as the occupants of that house had come in a very long time. Sadly, it was not to last. How could it?
After Kitty and the children had gone to bed, and when the
y were sure Mrs. Bennet was dozing in her chair, Edward Gardiner broached the topic that was on all of their minds.
“Has there been any news of her?”
Thomas Bennet sighed heavily. “None. I had it in mind to ask you the same thing.”
“I have heard nothing. An acquaintance of mine in Dublin has been on notice to alert me if he hears of a young Englishwoman travelling alone, but…”
They could all translate his silence. There were so many other ways for Lydia to slip away unnoticed. She might have taken up with another young man—after all, she had shown herself perfectly capable of being waylaid by a fine countenance and pleasing address. She might have taken a boat from a different port. She might even have gone elsewhere in Ireland, though they could only guess at what kind of ignoble pursuits she would have had to resort to in order to get by.
Mrs. Gardiner sighed heavily and stared at the fire. Even it appeared to be struggling to stay alive in the newly subdued environment. “Let us not dwell on it. If any of us hears news, we must promise to write at once. That way, we spare ourselves the torture of wondering. For my own part, I know a young lady who married an Irish lord and has lived there for quite some time. I have written to her—with a rather different account of events, of course—and asked her to inform me immediately if she hears of a girl matching Lydia’s description.”
“I am sure Lydia is well,” Jane said.
None of them had the heart to contradict her.
“I should have known,” Elizabeth murmured. “I should have known she would not be satisfied with working as a governess at some minor estate in Ireland.”
“Ah, my dear, what is the sense of thinking such things now?”
“Perhaps I could have written to her; tried to talk sense into her and urged her to stay.”
Her father laughed. “Do you think you could have convinced Lydia to see sense? I fear it would have been a fool’s errand! In any case, what does her disappearance matter? Her reputation was damaged enough by her disappearance with Wickham that it does not much matter what she does now. She might murder a man and it would reflect no more poorly on our family than what she has done already!”
“Thomas,” Edward Gardiner muttered, “do not say such things in front of the ladies.”
Mr. Bennet looked around at his companions. The regret in his eyes was unmistakable. “Ah, Edward, the time for such restraint has passed. They have been tainted by it. There is no sense in disguising the truth from them, for they have lived it in the sly looks and whispers that meet them everywhere they go.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She could not bear it any longer. Her sister’s actions had already grievously impacted on her family. How could they go on from this? Were they to spend the rest of their days dwelling on what had happened; endlessly discussing events they had no hope of rectifying?
No, she decided. She would not waste another moment reflecting on it. It was done now, and there was no way to undo it. She would travel north with the Gardiners and see the places she had always wished to see. She would relish those weeks of freedom and curiosity before her return to Longbourn. There was time enough in the future for regrets.
CHAPTER THREE
“What on earth do you mean, man?” Fitzwilliam Darcy slammed his fist on the table and stared at his steward.
The man looked as sympathetic as he did frightened. But then Darcy was used to seeing such reactions. He had that effect on people, or so he’d been told by friends who were in their cups and uninhibited enough to tell him such a thing.
“It is as I said, sir. I received a letter from the steward of your Scottish estate, sir.”
“Yes, yes, you told me that. What I cannot understand is what you said his letter contained. May I see it?”
The man held out a crumpled piece of paper. Every inch of it was covered in dense script.
Darcy took it and sighed as he stared at the page. His man in Scotland had a lot to say, it seemed. He glanced up at his steward. The man had been at Pemberley since old Wickham passed and Darcy had never had reason to doubt his word.
But this was preposterous! Jones had told him that a group of poachers had not just had the impertinence to set up camp on his land, but they had been menacing his tenants and stealing their crops and animals. He had never heard of such behaviour.
Darcy shook his head. Perhaps it was the man’s age causing him to rave. That could have been it. Nevertheless, his curiosity had been piqued. He began to read—that is to say, he began to slowly decipher the scrawl on the page.
“My goodness!” he exclaimed five minutes later.
His poor steward was still standing in the same place in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish. “Indeed, sir.”
“This is unfathomable! Perhaps you have both gone mad!”
It seemed the only sensible explanation for it, but doubts niggled at him even as he said it. Burns was a good man too. He was arguably in an even more difficult position, given how infrequently Darcy was able to visit the Scottish estate in person. He was in a position of great trust and Darcy was not aware of even one occasion where the man had behaved with anything other than great tact and diligence.
And there was the letter. It was written in Burns’s hand—of that he was certain. It was messy, but his letters always were. It was not the work of a madman.
“Why has he written to you about this? Surely he should have addressed me directly!”
Jones sighed and cleared his throat. He was very discreet, which was an essential quality for a man in his position. But at the same time, Darcy had never known a steward to hold back from uttering even the most unpleasant truths. Jones was clearly reluctant to speak.
“Speak up, man,” Darcy muttered. “I do not have the time for this!”
“I know, sir,” Jones said. “You see, that was probably Burns’s thinking too. What with your sister’s illness… well, I don’t suppose he wished to bother you.”
Darcy frowned. “How does Burns know about my sister’s illness? I have not written to tell him of it.”
Jones looked away. His discomfort was clear. “I wrote to him, sir.”
“You gossiped about Georgiana’s condition?”
“It was not gossip, sir. I merely wished to prevent the Scottish staff from burdening you with anything that was unnecessary. I asked him to direct all correspondence to me until such time as you were in a position to address it yourself.”
Darcy sighed. His anger had begun to dissipate now. “Thank you, Jones. It was thoughtful of you, no matter how unnecessary. Now, let us address the matter in hand. Burns says there are ten of them. What are they thinking, trespassing on my land and.” He glanced at the letter again and skimmed through to the relevant part. “Ah, yes, building a fort from trees they had the audacity to cut down from the woods? And that is not the worst of it. He says they have been stealing from my tenants.”
Jones shook his head. “I do not know, sir. All I know of it is what Burns outlined in his letter.”
Darcy pondered this. He had never known the Scotsman to exaggerate. On the contrary, Burns was accurate to a fault. He would never simplify for the sake of ease. He would outline every expenditure to the nearest half-penny, even when the expense itself was a significant one.
“I do not think Burns is capable of exaggeration,” he muttered. “Nor do I think he is any less sharp than usual—judging from the lucidity of his writing, at least. Therefore I must assume the situation is as he describes it.”
Jones eyed him warily. Darcy was not in the least surprised by this. He was not the sort of gentleman who ought to be trifled with. That was especially true now after what he had gone through in the past several weeks with his sister.
“I can round up some of the men from the estate. With the two of us, I imagine another seventeen or eighteen will do it. The poachers are loutish types, according to Burns’s letter. It would not do to go with fewer men than they have.” He paused. “Of course,
you might prefer to remain here. In which case, I would gladly assume command of our little army.”
Darcy looked up sharply. He had been distracted by Georgiana’s illness, of course, and he had scarcely left her bedside. But this was a different matter entirely. How would it look if he gave Jones a responsibility as important as this? There was already talk on the Scottish estate that he cared only about rents and not about his tenants’ lives. It did not surprise him—he did not go there often. How could he expect them to understand his difficult relationship with the place?
He was decided. He would not allow himself to be seen in such a light. He was loath to leave his sister, but how could he allow such abhorrent behaviour to go unpunished?
“No,” he said slowly. “That will not be necessary. I will go to Scotland and I will make these fools regret ever thinking they could wrong those who live on my estate under my protection. Instead of taking men from here, are there enough able-bodied young men living in Darcy Estate tenancies? Perhaps we might send word to Burns to have them prepare.”
Jones looked uncomfortable. “Sir, I do not think it is wise. The estate house is one thing, but I cannot assure you that your Scottish tenants are as loyal as those on this estate. They have not seen you for years. You would be better served to gather men here.”
Darcy felt a pang of sadness, which he quickly brushed aside. “Very well. Gather enough men as you think is prudent. We shall leave as soon as they are ready.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Ah, it is wonderful, is it not,” Madeline Gardiner said with a happy sigh.
They had departed early that morning and it was as if the weather had acquiesced and become perfect for them. There was not a cloud in the sky, yet there was a slight breeze that was just insistent enough to keep them from overheating.
“It is,” Elizabeth admitted. “It feels wonderful to travel.”
They had only been on the road a matter of hours and they had not yet gone anywhere she had not been before, but that did not dampen her enthusiasm one bit. There was so much promise in the air. After a year of worry and regret, it was exactly what she needed. She relished the idea of seeing places she had never set eyes on before.
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