Postscript from Pemberley

by Rebecca Ann Collins

“Do you think he will sell?” asked Kathryn.

  Mention of this reminded Darcy of the man at the inn, who, he had assumed, was probably looking for a property in the district.

  “Possibly; it is only idle land—unless our visitor from London has got in first. He has taken rooms at the inn at Bakewell, for a week or more; clearly he is looking for something or someone! I believe he is looking at saleable properties in the area.

  “I saw him at the inn yesterday, and today, we passed him on our way here, riding like the devil was after him, with no care for anyone else on the road. A proper London toff, all style and no manners!”

  Jessica intervened to explain, “The innkeeper told Darcy that the man was a Mr Hartley-Brown, but he had no notion what his business might be,” she said, and even as she spoke, she noticed that Kathryn had gone very quiet and the colour had fled from her face. Yet, only a few minutes ago, she had seemed her normal lively self.

  Jessica wondered what could have caused this sudden change. Could it have been the mention of Mr Hartley-Brown? Who was he?

  Keen to discover the connection, if any, between the two, yet unwilling to expose Miss O'Hare to unfair scrutiny, she determined to observe her when they met again at the school on the morrow.

  There was no doubt in her mind that something or someone linked to the strange Mr Hartley-Brown was behind Kathryn's distress.

  Darcy meanwhile had not noticed the change in Miss O'Hare, except that she had been rather quiet, which he put down to her continuing indisposition. To Kathryn's great relief, they rose to leave and said their farewells quickly, urging her to take some nourishment and rest some more.

  By the time Kathryn had got upstairs and back to her room, her distress was so great, she was forced to sit on her bed and stay still awhile to compose herself.

  The chance discovery that Hartley-Brown was staying in the area had been shock enough, but the revelation that Darcy Gardiner had seen him at the inn at Bakewell, and the landlord had identified him, was even more troubling. It was possible, she thought, that Darcy may meet him, if he continued to ride about the district as he had been doing, or he may even be introduced to him, by some mutual acquaintance at the inn or elsewhere in the village.

  Kathryn had never envisaged such a situation and had nothing in her personal armoury to help her deal with it, if it arose. She felt exposed and vulnerable. Why had he come? And why now?

  Had she been able to confront him on her own terms and at a time and place of her choosing, things may have been different; but to have him intrude upon her life, where she had retreated for some relief from her experiences at Lindfield, was for her, inconceivable.

  As tears stung her eyes, she wondered by what means she would cope, for she knew his presence in the district had nothing to do with property; she was quite certain he had discovered that she had returned to her parents' home in Derbyshire and had travelled here to seek her out. What he wanted from her or how she would negotiate with him she did not know.

  As she grew increasingly apprehensive, her usual self-control deserted her. Locking her door, she broke down and wept, helplessly. It seemed to her Hartley-Brown would do everything to thwart her plans and destroy the peace of mind she had sought here.

  There was nothing she could do to prevent it.

  She had only to wait for it to happen.

  The following day dawned cooler and brought with it the first serious signs of seasonal change, as though nature had decided to hurry Autumn along.

  There was a welcome chill in the air.

  Kathryn dressed with care and waited for the vehicle from Pemberley, which called to convey her to the school.

  She was grateful indeed for the consideration shown her by Mr and Mrs Darcy, and her mother was eager to commend them also.

  “It is very kind of them indeed, dear,” she said and added, “There's not too many people of quality who will condescend to help others in this way. But I will say that it has always been said of Mr Darcy that he is a most generous man, and I think this proves it. Do you not agree, Kate, my dear?”

  Kathryn agreed, of course, but had neither the time nor the wit to pay much attention to her remarks, so disturbed were her thoughts with the prospect that lay ahead. She had wondered how long it would be before either Jessica or Darcy Gardiner or both discovered her secret. She was sensible enough to know that concealment was no longer an option.

  Her sister Elena wished to go to the library at Kympton and asked if she may come too. Kathryn, having ascertained that it was not much out of their way, agreed and they set off.

  It was almost nine o'clock when she reached the school and Jessica was already there. Despite her best efforts, Kathryn failed to conceal the deep unease she was feeling. Within minutes of their meeting, Jessica knew there was something troubling her friend, which went beyond simple discomfort; she determined to discover its cause and help her if it were possible to do so.

  Yet, it would have to wait, for the children awaited their teacher and Kathryn appeared keen to go to them. At least with the children she was safe.

  It was past midday when Jessica was able to speak with her alone, once the children had gone to Mr Hurst for the rest of the afternoon. Jessica noted that Kathryn had been admirably composed throughout the morning, but there was no mistaking the look that crossed her countenance when Jessica asked her if she would join her for a cup of tea at the rectory.

  “The rector and his family are away visiting another parish, and the housekeeper has invited us to take tea in the parlour,” said Jessica, noting that her companion had seemed anxious and reluctant at first, but then appeared relieved that they were to be alone.

  “Yes, yes, I should like that very much, thank you,” she replied and a little while later they were seated in the warm comfort of the rectory, each with a cup of the comforting brew.

  Kathryn was silent but Jessica, determined not to lose the opportunity, pressed on.

  She spoke cautiously at first. “Kathryn, please forgive me for asking, but I cannot remain silent while you suffer such distress; I do want to help, but I will not intervene, unless you wish me to. You may well consider it impertinent of me to ask, but I could not avoid noticing how very distressed you became yesterday, at the mention of a certain person's presence in the district.”

  She waited, seeing again the same discomposure she had noticed on the previous evening, then added, in a quiet voice, “I wondered whether there was perhaps a connection between the same gentleman and yourself, which is causing you anxiety, and if there is anything I can do to help?”

  At this, Kathryn put her cup and saucer down with a clatter and said, “You are mistaken, Jessica; there is no connection whatsoever between us, and he is no gentleman either!”

  “Then you are acquainted with him? I speak of this man who has taken rooms at the inn at Bakewell and has been riding furiously around the district this week. We have all seen him. You do know him?”

  Kathryn met her eyes directly when she answered, “Yes, I do. He is Mr Gordon Hartley-Brown, the cousin of my former employer Lady Denny. I have been acquainted with him in the past… a year or more ago to be exact, but have not seen him since.”

  “And it is obviously not an acquaintance you wish to continue?”

  “No indeed!” she replied with great emphasis. “That is exactly the problem. It seems he does.”

  She was becoming agitated, and Jessica moved to sit beside her on the sofa and asked, “Is this why he has travelled to Derbyshire? Do you believe he seeks to contact you and continue his previous association with you?”

  By this time, Kathryn's tears refused to be held back, and Jessica, driven by both compassion and concern, put an arm around her, at which she broke down completely and sobbed, hiding her face.

  “I cannot know for certain, but I think so… I do not wish to, but Jessica, I really do not know what I can do to stop him… How is he to be dissuaded from following me or contacting me?… If only my brother were here
, he might have helped, but I cannot tell my father… in his state… What could he do? What is to be done?”

  So distressed had she become that it was some time before they could resume their conversation.

  Jessica was very circumspect. She was young and inexperienced in such matters. She had no desire to interfere, yet knew she had to do something to ease the pain of harassment that Kathryn was clearly suffering. She let her compose herself, before she said anything more, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle.

  “Kathryn, I should like very much to help you in any way I can, but to do so, I would need to know some pertinent facts. I have no desire to pry into your life before you returned to Colley Dale, but are you able to tell me a little about the reason why you do not wish Mr Hartley-Brown to contact you?” she asked, and the concern in her voice was so genuine, Kathryn could not refuse her.

  Her sobs had ceased, she dried her eyes and straightened her clothes, yet to Jessica, she looked exceedingly vulnerable and apprehensive.

  The violence of Kathryn's anguish had shaken her; as yet ignorant of all the circumstances, she was astonished at the depth of her friend's unhappiness.

  But not for long.

  When, over the next hour, she heard what Kathryn had to reveal, told slowly and with many pauses, to think, sometimes to weep and dry her eyes, blow her nose, and drink more tea, Jessica was no longer surprised at her desire to stay well out of the way of Mr Hartley-Brown.

  Jessica's only immediate concern was for her friend's safety and peace of mind. The rest would have to wait.

  She decided she would need to get the help of her cousin Darcy or Mr Carr to deal with the man Hartley-Brown; but before that, some means had to be found to preserve Kathryn from his unwelcome attentions.

  JESSICA ARRANGED FOR KATHRYN to be taken home, before returning to Pemberley in time to escape a short sharp thunderstorm, which blew in from the northwest and drenched the area from Maclesfield to Matlock.

  Darcy Gardiner was not so fortunate.

  He had just left Bakewell, where he had gone on business, and was on his way home on horseback, when the heavens opened, at which point, he was compelled to turn around and make for the shelter of the inn. The landlord, solicitous and friendly, provided him with a room to change out of his sodden jacket and shirt, had them sent to the kitchen to be dried and pressed, and, while he waited, sent up some hot food and brandy, which was very welcome indeed.

  Some little while later, when the rain had eased, he returned with Darcy's clothes and, while assisting him into them, said in a confidential voice, “Mr Gardiner, sir, do you recall the gentleman Mr Hartley-Brown? You once asked if I knew what he was doing in the area.”

  Without turning around to face him, Darcy indicated his interest, “I did indeed, and do you have an answer for me?”

  “I may do, sir,” said the innkeeper, coming around to adjust the collar of Darcy's jacket and brush down the front of his coat. “I cannot be certain, you understand?”

  “Of course,” said Darcy, waiting patiently.

  “But, there is talk in the village that he has been enquiring about the whereabouts of a family by the name of O' Hare. Irish, I think, sir, probably came over during the bad days of the potato famine.”

  Darcy had at first been shocked into silence, then he asked quickly, “And does he say why he wishes to find them?”

  “No, sir, but I understand that he says he knew a young lady, a Miss O'Hare, and seems very keen to discover if she is here.”

  At this Darcy grew exceedingly angry, but with commendable presence of mind, did not betray his feelings to the innkeeper, nor did he ask any more questions. He paid the man well for the food and the services rendered, and set off, but not before saying, “I would prefer that Mr Hartley-Brown did not learn of our little exchange,” to which the innkeeper responded cheerfully, “He will not, sir, not from me. He's moved to the inn at Lambton, where he expects to stay a further week.”

  Grateful for this unexpected information, Darcy left the inn and rode back to Pemberley, his mind in absolute turmoil. He was shocked and angry, and yet, there was nothing he could do. He was completely baffled.

  His thoughts filled with a confusion of suspicion and assumption of which he could make no sense at all, he experienced a feeling of foreboding, the like of which he had not known before.

  The weather had cleared following the storm, to a blue sky and crisp, sweet air. Yet Darcy Gardiner could appreciate none of this. He was aware only of a sense of impending trouble, linked to the stranger—Hartley-Brown.

  On reaching Pemberley House, he went directly upstairs and, while making for his rooms, chanced upon Jessica coming out of the library. She looked worried, yet, on seeing the expression upon his face, stopped in the corridor and asked, “Darcy, whatever is the matter? Have you had bad news? Is it Mrs Gardiner? Is she unwell again?”

  He shook his head. “No, no, my grandmother is quite well, or so I believe, having heard nothing to the contrary today. It's Miss O'Hare I am concerned for. Jessica, I do believe she is in some danger,” he said.

  “In danger? How do you mean?” Jessica was dismayed.

  “Indeed, in grave danger of being importuned and harassed by a man she probably has no wish to meet, none other than our odd visitor from London, the man we saw the other day riding like the devil—Mr Hartley-Brown.”

  Jessica was stunned by the revelation that Darcy had discovered the connection between Hartley-Brown and Miss O'Hare. She could not imagine how he might have done so, since there was no possibility that Kathryn could have told him. After their talk together, Kathryn had begged Jessica to keep her secret safe, and Jessica had given her word that no one would know. Yet, here was her cousin Darcy speaking as if he knew it all.

  She wondered how he had found out and how much he knew. When she responded, it was with a degree of circumspection.

  “Darcy, are you quite sure? What makes you think Kathryn is in danger from Hartley-Brown?”

  Darcy took her arm and drew her into the library, where they were unlikely to be disturbed, nor would the servants overhear their conversation.

  “I've heard that he has been asking around the district for her family—he knows they live in the area but not where exactly. There has been talk in the village that he claims he once knew Miss O'Hare and wishes to contact her.”

  “How do you know all this?” she asked.

  “I had it from the innkeeper at Bakewell. Hartley-Brown had rooms there and has just left the inn and moved to Lambton, closer to Colley Dale. I believe he means to remain in the district until he finds her. Jessica, I am convinced she is in danger from him. I do not believe she wishes to meet him.”

  This time, Jessica responded without thinking, “She most certainly does not,” she said and then realised what she had said. Darcy was instantly alert.

  “Has she told you so herself?”

  There was no help for it, the truth was out now.

  “She has, and, Darcy, there are things about their association which you do not know, which I think you must know, but since I have promised not to speak of them to anyone, you will have to ask her yourself,” she said gravely.

  At this, Darcy looked so shaken that Jessica, aware of his sensibilities, was concerned for him. He seemed unable to speak and his face was taut with the strain.

  Then he said slowly and deliberately, “Jessica, I can do no such thing. I have no right to question her about any part of her life, especially about matters that may have taken place long before she came to Derbyshire. It would be the height of arrogant presumption for me to ask her to answer such questions in the present circumstances. I am neither her employer nor her lover. What right have I?”

  Jessica was now in a quandary. Her dilemma arose from her desire to keep her promise to her friend not to divulge to anyone the story she had been told earlier that day, and her belief that Darcy Gardiner had to learn some of the salient facts regarding the association between Kathryn O'
Hare and Mr Hartley-Brown, lest he took some precipitate action, which he may later have cause to regret.

  As she regarded his face, she saw the expression change from concern to confusion. Quite clearly, he was not convinced they had the truth.

  “Jessica, do you know what really lies behind all this? Has Miss O'Hare confided in you? Has she or anyone else told you why Hartley-Brown is looking for her, seeking to contact her? The man has come in search of her; is he blackmailing her? Why else would she hide from him? I have to know, I cannot remain in ignorance. Were I to meet him or run across him among our general acquaintance, unlikely as that may seem, it would be to my great disadvantage if I were unaware of the true state of affairs between them. I may well do or say something that may have unintended but distressing consequences for all of us, including Kathryn.”

  When Jessica remained silent, his voice became more serious; he was thinking of several possibilities, some worse than others.

  “Jessie, I understand that you may not wish to break a confidence, but will you at least answer me truthfully on one matter? Is there some clandestine arrangement that I do not know of, between them? An understanding, an affair, an engagement even?”

  At this suggestion, Jessica had to speak and she did so with vigour.

  “Oh no, no, certainly not! There is no engagement, but they are acquainted. He is the cousin of Lady Denny of Lindfield, and I gathered they became friends for a time, when Kathryn lived there as governess to the children. But, she told me she has no desire to continue the association.”

  “Why?” he asked abruptly and Jessica, realizing she had to speak the truth, said, “Kathryn discovered something about him, which she did not detail to me; she had decided to end their association before she left Lindfield and returned to Colley Dale. Now, it appears he is pursuing her.”

  Darcy seemed ready to explode with anger.

  “The scoundrel! And he comes all this way in search of her. Why? What sort of hold does he have on her?” his voice reflected his confusion.

  “Truly, Jessica, I am at a loss to understand how Miss O'Hare—for whom I have great regard—how she would allow herself, with her education and understanding, to fall into the power of such a man.”