Her voice broke and tears fell. Darcy produced a handkerchief, which was gratefully received.
She soon composed herself and resumed. “After a sleepless night, I decided to ask leave to visit my parents, on the grounds that I had received an urgent letter from my mother, asking me to return to help her with my father, whose condition had worsened. In this pretence I was greatly assisted by Mrs Ellis the housekeeper, a most wonderful woman, who attested to the truth of my story, saying she had seen the letter. She was the only person I could trust and turn to for help.
“When I saw her Ladyship and asked for leave of absence, I was quite astonished that she agreed readily. She was surprisingly sanguine about my sudden departure. Her maid Sarah believed she was pleased to see the back of me. She told me she thought Lady Denny was suffering some symptoms of jealousy. She probably didn't trust Hartley-Brown either,” she said, and both Jessica and Darcy nodded. Their thoughts had run along similar lines.
Kathryn refused to speculate. “I cannot say if this was the case. I was so glad to be gone from Lindfield, I did not care. Only the housekeeper knew I was going to East Grinstead, where I stayed awhile, trying to restore my spirits. I told the nuns I had to return home to help my parents and wrote to Lady Denny that my father's condition was so much worse, I was unable to return to Lindfield in the foreseeable future. I asked also that my apologies be conveyed to Mr Hartley-Brown, because I did not think I would be able to see him again.
“Even as I wrote, I have never felt so mortified in all my life. I knew that it was only my exceedingly scrupulous upbringing by the nuns that had saved me from their pernicious schemes and the consequences of my own foolishness.
“Weeks later, when I felt I could face the world again, I left the convent, took the train to Derby, and returned to Colley Dale, hoping in time to forget that part of my life of which I was so ashamed. I knew it would not be easily done, but hoped that with my family around me, I would recover something of my lost self-esteem,” she said.
Darcy looked grave and thoughtful. “Can you think how Hartley-Brown might have discovered that you were in this part of the country? Had you ever mentioned it to him?” he asked.
“No, never. Lady Denny knew my parents lived in the north of England, but not in which county. The only address she had was the convent in East Grinstead. It is unlikely they would have revealed my parents' address to Hartley-Brown. Which is probably why it has taken him so long to discover where I live.”
Darcy asked, “Do you believe he will try to persuade you to return to Lindfield?”
Kathryn nodded. “Probably, but he will not succeed. I could never go back.”
“And if he does not succeed at first, is he likely to persist?”
“Very likely. I fear he is not easily dissuaded.”
“Which is why we must find some means by which you may be protected from his unwelcome attentions and be able to come and go as you please. It is not right that you should be constantly in fear of being accosted or worse, when you are going about your business in your own village,” he said, in a voice that expressed his determination to protect her.
The clear matter-of-fact tone in which he had spoken surprised Kathryn. It indicated that he was either so shocked, he had decided already to distance himself from her and the situation that was not of his making, or he was being calm and logical in order that a solution be found to an intractable problem from which he wished to free her.
She feared the former and hoped with all her heart it was the latter.
Darcy walked out of the gazebo to stand on the very edge of the clearing, looking out across the river to the peaks in the distance. It was difficult to believe that they were involved in this predicament, here amidst the peace and quiet of Pemberley. But, it had to be faced and something needed to be done and swiftly.
It being late afternoon, the setting sun was casting deep indigo shadows in the dales, ushering in the long Autumn twilight. There was not a lot of time.
Returning to the gazebo, he asked almost abruptly, “Miss O'Hare, I wonder if you will consider a temporary move to stay at Rushmore Farm for a short period? It will obviate the need for you to walk or travel any distance through the town and you will be completely out of the reach of Hartley-Brown. I will speak with my sister Lizzie and make the necessary arrangements. There is no need for Lizzie to know too many details; the fact that you wish to avoid the unwelcome attentions of a stranger should suffice. Lizzie will understand very well.”
He seemed to be totally at ease as he outlined the plans and, turning to Jessica, added, “Meanwhile, perhaps, Jessica, you could return with Miss O'Hare to Colley Dale and help collect some of her things. I shall leave it to you ladies to provide some reasonable explanation for your parents. I would suggest also, Miss O'Hare, that you compose a letter of resignation to your former employer, Lady Denny, making it clear that you are unable to return to Lindfield ever, so there can be no doubt about your intentions.”
Clearly, he intended to ensure that every aspect of the problem was secured. “We can have it sent to Birmingham or Liverpool to be posted there; that should help throw Hartley-Brown into some confusion, too.”
Kathryn was astonished, not only at the suggestions he had made, but also at the swiftness with which he had assessed the situation and devised a solution, however temporary.
She was profoundly grateful that neither Darcy nor Jessica had tut-tutted and made censorious remarks about her indiscretion.
They had listened, for the most part in silence, except to ask the occasional question or, in Jessica's case, to place her hand upon Kathryn's as if to reassure her of her understanding.
Now, Darcy Gardiner was offering to make arrangements for Kathryn to stay with his sister at Rushmore Farm; she scarcely knew how to thank them. She did not wish to inconvenience anyone, but understood very well the risks she would face if she were to be accosted and confronted by Hartley-Brown in the village or as she walked alone to and from school.
The unpleasantness to her would be compounded by the inevitable gossip that would ensue, which would surely put an end to her work at the parish school and perhaps even her friendship with Jessica and others of the Pemberley circle. She could well believe that Mr and Mrs Darcy may never invite her to Pemberley again; and who could blame them, for why would they wish to be associated with such a person? Even the thought made her feel ashamed.
Expressing her gratitude as well as apologising for causing such a deal of inconvenience, Kathryn agreed and soon afterwards left with Jessica in the carriage. They had barely proceeded beyond the bounds of the Pemberley Estate, taking the road to Colley Dale, when a horse and rider travelling at a furious pace passed them going towards Matlock. Jessica and Kathryn looked at one another, and seeing the look in Jessica's eyes, Kathryn nodded—it was Mr Hartley-Brown.
Neither said a word, but both women knew clearly the implications of his presence in the district. Jessica's fingers tightened around her friend's, trying wordlessly to reassure her.
Meanwhile, Darcy rode on to Rushmore Farm, which lay within a mile from the boundary of the Pemberley Estate linked by a private road. It was ideally suited to their present purpose, in that Kathryn would have no cause to leave the confines of the two properties and take to the public road in order to reach the school.
Meeting with his brother-in-law Mr Carr and his sister Lizzie, Darcy explained his errand of mercy. A lady needed help to avoid the persistent and unwelcome attentions of a stranger. It was a simple tale and Darcy related it without fuss.
Lizzie, who had once been subjected to similar harassment, understood and sympathised at once.
Miss O'Hare, whom she had met on one or two occasions and admired for her spirit and style, was very welcome to stay as long as was necessary, she declared, and her husband went so far as to suggest that there were ways in which the unwelcome stranger may be persuaded to leave the district.
He was in no mood to be cautious, “I am quite
certain that a visit from the local constabulary could have a very persuasive effect,” he said, and Darcy thought about it and replied, “Indeed, and since we know where to find him, that gives us an advantage. I am sure we could find some good reason to suggest to him that he is not welcome. However, I believe that once he discovers Miss O'Hare is out of his reach, he will leave the area.”
Not long afterwards, he went to meet with the ladies and accompany them to Rushmore Farm, where young Lizzie Carr did everything possible to make Kathryn feel welcome and at ease.
Returning later to Pemberley, Jessica and Darcy found Mr and Mrs Darcy back from Oakleigh, expressing some concern about Mrs Gardiner, who had been feeling rather melancholy again. In view of this, Darcy decided and Jessica agreed that 'twere best not to trouble them with the events of the day.
On the morrow, however, matters would come to their attention in a most unexpected way.
BREAKFAST AT PEMBERLEY WAS usually a rather leisurely affair.
Mr and Mrs Darcy came downstairs to read the newspapers and open their mail, which they did, having taken two cups of tea each and eaten rather lightly.
Young Darcy Gardiner, on the other hand, frequently rose early and completed a ride around the park on horseback, before he returned to the house, changed, and came down to a much heartier meal than his grandparents. Only Jessica flitted cheerfully in and out again, usually partaking of tea and toast, with a piece or two of fruit, before leaving for school. She was invariably punctual, almost obsessively so.
On that particular Autumn morning, however, with the hint of a wintry chill in the air, Jessica was late, and to everyone's surprise, when she came downstairs, she looked pale and unwell.
Elizabeth was immediately concerned. “Why, Jessica my dear, you look quite ill. Have you been sick overnight?”
Jessica nodded, unable to explain her state of ill-health. She had, she said, a headache and a badly stuffed up nose.
“It is probably a head cold,” said Elizabeth. “This changeable weather makes it worse. Go back to your room, dear, and Mrs Grantham will send your tea up to you, but before that, let her get you some lavender oil in boiling water; inhale it, and it will clear your head. Do stay in bed and keep well wrapped up, Jessica, else you will catch a chill,” she warned, and Jessica did as she was told, without protest, so unwell did she feel.
She did, however, remember to ask that they send a message to Mr Hurst at the school. Darcy volunteered immediately to take the message, and Jessica was packed off to bed.
That morning, the post was late, too, and Elizabeth, who had two or three letters, took her time with them. One came from a most unexpected source— Lady Fitzwilliam, wife of Mr Darcy's cousin, Sir James Fitzwilliam, and mother of Robert Gardiner's wife, Rose.
Elizabeth could not imagine why Lady Fitzwilliam would write to her— the two had been friends many years ago, but no longer. The Fitzwilliams had, upon inheriting a title, acquired also an attitude of social superiority, which greatly irked Elizabeth and amused her husband.
“I cannot think what she can have to say to me, unless someone is dead, of course!” she said, almost to herself.
Mr Darcy looked up from his newspaper, smiled, and made no comment. He could judge from her tone of voice that his wife was not expecting to be pleased with her correspondent, whatever her purpose.
Curious, Elizabeth opened up the letter and began to read.
At that very moment, Darcy Gardiner, who had earlier left the room, returned with some information he had received in the post and became involved in a discussion with his grandfather about a piece of farm equipment, which he proposed to purchase. They both knew that the farms on the Pemberley estate were in need of diversification, and Darcy had some interesting ideas, which he wished to talk about.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth read on.
After the usual perfunctory greetings, Lady Fitzwilliam claimed she had heard of Mrs Gardiner's indisposition and was writing to inquire after her state of health.
This unusual degree of solicitude for Mrs Gardiner, with whom her association had never been close, aroused Elizabeth's suspicions.
“Why do you suppose Lady Fitzwilliam would bother to write to me with such an enquiry about my aunt? Would it not be simpler to ask Robert, her son-in-law? I'll wager anything, she doesn't care a fig about poor Aunt Gardiner; she is probably fishing…” she said aloud, and her husband looked up and said with a sardonic smile, “Lizzie my love, you must at least acknowledge her right to ask the question?”
“I cannot abide such insincerity,” Elizabeth retorted and read on, only to have her suspicions confirmed on page two of the letter, where the true motive of the writer emerged.
Lady Fitzwilliam wrote, There is another subject on which I wish to ask your opinion, Mrs Darcy… at which Elizabeth gave a most unladylike snort, and muttered, “More likely you wish to give me your opinion on the matter!” and read on.
Rose has told me of a young woman, a Miss Kathryn O'Hare, who has recently come to live in the area. I believe she lives with her parents at Colley Dale and has begun to teach at the Pemberley Parish School. I understand she is also a frequent visitor to Pemberley, having become quite a favourite of young Miss Jessica Courtney.
Elizabeth could not begin to comprehend where this was leading, as the writer went on.
My dear Elizabeth, forgive me for taking the liberty to pass on some information, which may throw a different light on this young woman's character. I understand that she was once the governess to Lord and Lady Denny's three children at Lindfield Towers and is said, while she was thus employed, to have inveigled Lady Denny's cousin Mr Hartley-Brown into becoming secretly engaged to her.
Since then, I believe she has left the position, having jilted Mr Hartley-Brown—perhaps for some other more prosperous gentleman. (It is well known that Hartley-Brown has no money or estate of his own and lives entirely off the benevolence of the Dennys.) Miss O'Hare may have discovered this and decided to end the engagement.
The story, in case you have doubts about it, comes from Lady Denny herself, who revealed the details to Rose and Robert when they met in London recently. Rose says her Ladyship was highly indignant on her cousin's behalf—said the girl had made a fool of him and he is very angry indeed.
I do not know if you and Mr Darcy are aware of this situation, Elizabeth, but I was sure you would not have countenanced the appointment of this person to be a teacher at the parish school, nor would you have permitted her to develop a friendship with young Miss Courtney, had you been aware of the facts.
No doubt, Jessica is as yet too inexperienced in the ways of the world to appreciate the import of such matters. Such an inappropriate association can seriously damage her own chances of advancement in society, not to mention those of making a good marriage.
But I know you will ensure that she is made aware of these considerations.
She rambled on for half a page or more on family matters, but Elizabeth, too astounded to read any further, put the letter in her pocket, glad of the fact that both her husband and her grandson were engrossed in their discussion. They failed to notice that she had become quite discomposed and had left the room without finishing her tea, to go upstairs to Jessica.
Having been put through the tedious business of an inhalation of herbal oils and having her feet immersed in a bath of hot water, before being tucked up in bed, Jessica was feeling slightly more comfortable than before. Her head felt lighter, and she managed a pale smile when Elizabeth entered the room. When the maid brought in a tray with tea and toast, she sat up without much enthusiasm, and Elizabeth, drawing up a chair beside her bed, helped her partake of it.
Jessica thanked her for her kindness and smiled as she said, “I feel like I used to when I was a little girl and Mama used to feed me when I was ill.”
Elizabeth smiled and patted her hand; she was very fond of Jessica. Her mother, Emily Courtney, was Elizabeth's cousin and dear friend, while young Jessica was as warmly
loved as her own daughter.
Waiting until Jessica had finished and the maid had removed the tray, Elizabeth fluffed up her pillows, tucked the bedclothes around her, and sat down again. Then, taking out Lady Fitzwilliam's letter, she put it in Jessica's hands, saying, “Now, Jessica, I should like you to read that letter carefully, and when you have done, please explain to me whether there is any truth in it, or is Lady Fitzwilliam completely demented? For my part, I am more inclined to believe the latter to be the case, but I am eager to hear your opinion on the matter.”
Bewildered, Jessica took the letter and read it through quickly, skipping over the first page which held little information of interest to her.
When she turned it over, however, and arrived at the paragraph about Kathryn O'Hare, she gasped and cried out as if in pain, “Oh, the horrid, wicked woman! Why must she assume that everything Lady Denny says is true? Who would believe her, if they knew what she was really like?”
“What is she really like, Jessica, and what part of this letter is not true?” asked Elizabeth.
“Why almost all of it—or most of it anyway,” Jessica replied, her voice rising with emotion. “Oh, cousin Lizzie, it is such a cruel, malicious letter… I cannot believe that Rose or Lady Fitzwilliam would accept such a story without question and then proceed to spread it around like this!”
Elizabeth was patient, but persistent. “Well then, will you tell me the true story?” she asked, and Jessica, despite her cold and discomfort, did so, omitting only those very intimate details that related to Kathryn alone.
Elizabeth asked if she would like her to go away and come back later, after she had time to rest, but Jessica would not hear of it.
“No, I must tell you the truth now—I cannot let you continue to believe such outrageous lies even for a few minutes longer,” she declared.
Over the next hour, she gave Mrs Darcy an account of all she had learned from Kathryn O'Hare, whose insistence on telling them the facts without any attempt at prevarication had clearly stood her in very good stead. Jessica was able to provide Elizabeth with sufficient detail to convince her of the truth of Kathryn's story.
Postscript from Pemberley Page 17
