When Elena was reunited with her sister and parents, there were tears of joy and relief and a great outpouring of gratitude for Darcy Gardiner and his brother-in-law Mr Carr. Mrs O'Hare, who had feared a fate worse than death for one or both of her daughters, was immensely gratified to have them both safe home with her again.
Darcy took his leave of Kathryn and returned to Pemberley more exhausted than he had been in a very long while, but too relieved and pleased to be overly conscious of it.
There would be time enough to marshall the forces of Law and Justice against the culprits and confront them with all of their misdeeds. This time, they had been caught red-handed; there would be no escape. There was much satisfaction to be gained from the thought. But, that could wait.
For tonight, Darcy was content that Kathryn was safe, free from persecution, and her tormenters were in custody.
That she had also assured him repeatedly that she loved him and promised to marry him as soon as ever he wished was an added source of pleasure— though of a far more deeply satisfying kind.
END OF PART FOUR
IN A WEEK THAT began with a summons and ended with a celebration, Michael Carr was, without any doubt at all, the man of the moment.
His practical advice to his brother-in-law, his shrewd plan to have Bellamy tracked and watched, and his prompt action in summoning the local constabulary to arrest the miscreants had all been proved right, leading to an exceedingly satisfactory conclusion. He was, that morning, appearing before the magistrate as a witness.
While her husband was busy giving evidence against Bellamy and Hodges, Lizzie Carr was brought to bed with her first child. Over several hours, during which she asked many times if her husband was back from Matlock, she was delivered of a very healthy son.
Before the news was given to Mr Carr, he'd had the satisfaction of seeing the conclusion of their efforts to apprehend and punish the culprits. Hodges, the stupid bumpkin, had escaped with a lighter sentence, having admitted his guilt and turned against his co-conspirator, who he claimed had deceived him, never revealing he was to be involved in a criminal abduction of a young lady. Bellamy, on the other hand, was treated to a severe dressing down by the magistrate, who took an exceedingly dim view of his conduct and sentenced him to a long spell in jail.
The magistrate expressed his particular disappointment that transportation to Botany Bay or Port Arthur was no longer available to him, the practice of sending felons to the antipodes having but recently ceased.
“I should very much have preferred to have sentenced you to be removed altogether from this country and sent to Van Dieman's Land for your most heinous crimes; there you would have learned the error of your ways more swiftly, I think,” he said, regarding Bellamy with a look of extreme censure, and warning him never to re-offend or he may face the ultimate penalty.
“Men have been hanged for less. I must warn you, that if you ever re-offend and appear before me, there will be no mercy.”
For Mr Carr there was a special commendation from the bench, for his sound common sense and dedication to the cause of law and order.
Well pleased with the results of his work, Michael Carr emerged to find Darcy Gardiner waiting for him with the good news, ready to drive him to Rushmore Farm to celebrate the birth of his son.
He was so pleased as to be rendered speechless, wanting only to get home to his dear wife, from whom he had been separated on this, most important of days. That she had borne him a son brought him to the very zenith of his happiness, marred only by his being away from her at the time.
Still, by the time they were halfway home, he cheered up considerably.
“I must say, Darcy, that we did well today, with both villains going down. 'Twas a great pity we did not get Hartley-Brown though,” he said.
“I understand from Watson that the police can find no trace of him—they think he has probably gone into hiding, hoping to flee to Europe or America, where he can disappear into the population more easily. They have been watching the ships at all the ports in the south, but I am not hopeful—he is the kind of villain who will use every trick in the book to escape the consequences of his actions. Though quick to use the law against others, these men are no respecters of the law themselves.”
Darcy agreed, but added with great satisfaction, “At least the scoundrel Bellamy will not escape with him.”
Arriving at Rushmore Farm, all thoughts of villains and their machinations vanished, as Mr Carr raced upstairs to hold his wife and son in his arms. Darcy, following his brother-in-law more sedately, could not fail to be touched by the very real devotion of the couple. It was almost impossible to believe the pert young miss who had been his little sister had been transformed as she was into a warm and loving young mother.
Many months were to pass before they discovered that Hartley-Brown had indeed fled to America to escape the wrath of Lord Denny, who on receiving Mrs Ellis' letter had returned forthwith to Lindfield, ready and able to despatch Mr Hartley-Brown not just to prison but to meet his maker!
As for Lady Denny, reports reaching Mrs Ellis suggested that her Ladyship was presently sunk in a state of deep depression since the sudden departure of her “cousin” and the return of her husband. Doubtless, her continued indisposition would keep her confined to her bedchamber, but without the congenial company she used to prefer therein.
With his sister Lizzie and her husband now devoting most of their time to cherishing each other and their son, Darcy decided it was time to announce to his family his engagement to Miss Kathryn O'Hare. Jessica's wedding day had been fixed, and with Mr and Mrs Darcy in an especially good mood, it would be, he thought, an appropriate time to break the news.
His first visit, accompanied by Kathryn, was to his mother at Camden House. With Cassandra already aware of his intentions and happy to welcome Kathryn into their family, it seemed that nothing her elder son Edward had said had influenced her judgment of the young woman whom Darcy had chosen to be his wife.
She greeted her warmly, and when Sir Richard arrived to join them, he likewise made his pleasure at the news plain. They both saw Kathryn as a woman of good sense and education, well able to match their son's intelligence and aspirations in life. No adverse reports of any kind had reached them, and if they had, it is unlikely they would have been given much credence.
When, after an hour or more of pleasant conversation, the pair left to return to Colley Dale, the Gardiners spoke frankly of Miss O'Hare.
“Kathryn is a most personable and intelligent young woman, yet there is a pleasing degree of modesty about her manner,” said Cassy. “Mama has made comment upon it too, which must bode well for her acceptance at Pemberley.”
Richard agreed, “Certainly, but I do believe, my dear, that if Darcy and Miss O'Hare wish to marry at Easter, as has been proposed, they ought be seeking to settle in their own place, independently of Pemberley. I know Darcy has been happy there, but I doubt that it would be sensible or fair to impose such a situation upon a newly wed wife. Pemberley can be quite daunting to a young woman who has lived most of her life in fairly simple circumstances. Do you not agree?” he asked.
Cassy, upon contemplating the question for some moments, was inclined to see her husband's point of view. “You are quite right, Richard. There may well be some awkwardness with the staff, too; they are unused to the presence of two married women in the household; even though Kathryn would not seek to establish a position for herself, it may not be quite comfortable for her.”
“Exactly,” said her husband, “it is the type of situation that can lead to embarrassment for a newly wed pair, which is why some alternative arrangement must be found. They are both of an age when they may be expected to set up and run their own establishment.”
Remembering the discomposure her late sister-in-law Josie had suffered, Cassy understood precisely her husband's concerns; yet, she could not immediately see how the matter might be resolved. Neither Darcy's present income, nor the short time avail
able between now and Easter, would allow him to locate and lease a suitable property in the area. Most would be either out of his reach or too large for their requirements.
“How is it to be done? There is so little time, and besides, if Darcy is to continue to manage the estate at Pemberley, surely it would not do for him to live at too great a distance from it?” she asked.
“I agree,” said her husband, “but there is no reason why he should. Not if they take our house at Matlock. The current lease has expired, and Thomas has been approached already by one or two people wishing to inspect the place with a view to taking out a lease for the New Year, but I have held them at bay, in the hope that Darcy may wish to consider it. It is vacant now and it could be made ready by Easter with very little expense.”
Cassy was surprised at the forethought that had gone into his suggestion.
“Do you mean to let them have it rent-free?”
Richard shook his head. “Not entirely, but it would be a considerably smaller sum than they would pay elsewhere. I think it would suit them well; besides, we were very happy there, and it would be appropriate to let one of the children enjoy it, do you not think, my dear?”
Cassy remembered well their days in the house, which had been their wedding gift from Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and in which all of their five children had been born and raised. They were good, wholesome memories filled with fun, love, and much hard work. It had been a singularly happy home, and she had been loathe to leave it, even for the gracious, more spacious Camden House, purchased for them by her father, Mr Darcy.
She rose and went to her husband. “I do, and what's more, I think you are the most thoughtful, generous man in the world,” she said, declaring her complete agreement with him in a manner that pleased him very well.
Meanwhile, Julian Darcy, visiting the library at Pemberley, had been persuaded by his mother to take tea with her in her private sitting room.
It had been many years since they had had anything approaching a private tête-a-tête, and Julian was understandably nervous. He knew that his mother could be brutally honest in her comments on one's conduct, and he wondered what she had in mind. It turned out that he had no cause for apprehension, although he still had something to learn.
Jessica had told him of her intention to suggest to Mr Darcy that Kathryn O'Hare be entrusted with the responsibility of running the parish school when Julian and she left for Africa.
“I have already mentioned it to Kathryn, but she has not given me a definite answer; no doubt she wishes to consult her family. Once I have Mr Darcy's consent, I shall ask her again. I am very confident of her agreement,” Jessica had said, adding with an arch look, “She is an excellent teacher and in view of her association with our cousin Darcy; it would be the perfect thing, would it not?”
Julian, though willing to believe that Miss O'Hare was capable and qualified to carry out the task, was not entirely sure of his parents' response.
Joining his mother for tea, it was the matter he took up first, hoping it would lead to some general discussion.
“Jessica believes Miss Kathryn O'Hare will be able and willing to take over her duties at the school when we leave for France,” he said, and Elizabeth answered without so much as a raised eyebrow, “Well, Jessica is probably right, I understand Kathryn is an excellent and popular teacher. But, Julian, they will miss Jessica very much, as will we all, when you take her with you to France and Africa.”
At this, Julian looked across at his mother and saw the slightest suggestion of tears in her eyes, which astonished him. He had not anticipated this response.
“Mama, surely you do not disapprove?” he began, unable to comprehend her objection, if there was one, but Elizabeth interrupted him, “Disapprove? Of course not; why would I disapprove? Jessica is ready to marry you and go with you to Africa because she loves you and, even more importantly, because she has a genuine interest in your work. That is a great blessing, Julian, and I thoroughly approve, but nevertheless, I shall miss her. She has been like a daughter to us, and Pemberley has become her home. She loves it as we do.”
Then moving over to sit beside him, she said, in a voice that was both grave and appealing, “You must promise me, Julian, that you will take good care of Jessica. Do not leave her too long on her own. She is an intelligent girl, with plenty of sound common sense, and she will want to share your enthusiasms and learn about your work. So you must not go chasing after some tropical bug and forget that your wife needs your attention, too. Remember, some women do like to learn about these things; not all of us are averse to talking of matters that may seem like the province of men alone.”
Julian was aware of a deepening tone in her voice. “I know that Josie never did care about your research; she was bored and that made things difficult between you…”
He tried to intervene. “Mama, please, I cannot let you blame Josie. I have long admitted to myself, the mistakes and shortcomings which destroyed our marriage were mostly mine; Josie was not responsible…”
“I do not mean to blame her, Julian, but what I have said is not only true, it is materially relevant to your chances of happiness with Jessica.
“I am happy indeed to hear that you accept some responsibility for the problems that beset your marriage to Josie, and I do not intend to plague you with a reiteration of them. I am sure you were aware of my views at the time. But it is also important that you understand that Jessica Courtney, who has been raised within a family to whom service to others is second nature and selfishness is unknown, is quite a different young woman to Josie Tate. I do not mean to suggest that one is superior to the other, simply that they are completely different and must therefore be treated differently.
“Marriage to Jessica may be more tranquil than marriage to Josie, but it will require you to share your life, your work, and your ideas and aspirations with her, as well as your bed and your table.”
Elizabeth's voice was serious as she continued, “Unlike Josie, Jessica comes to you without any great ambition for fame or reputation for herself, but I know her well enough to say that she will love you and support you in everything you undertake.” As Julian listened, she went on, “Jessica has loved you faithfully for many years, well before you became aware of your own feelings for her; now that her life is linked with yours, she will ask no more and no less than to share it equally. Her happiness, indeed your mutual happiness, will be enhanced, the more closely your lives are woven together.”
Elizabeth took her son's hand and said quietly, “I do not mean to lecture you, Julian my dear, I want only to protect you from the kind of heartbreak that you endured before. I know I said little then, but I suffered with you, more than you know. This time, I pray that you and Jessica, whom I dearly love, may enjoy the same happiness your father and I, and your sister and Richard, have found together.”
Julian listened, astonished at how much his mother had known of his own pain and of Jessica's feelings for him. He had never believed that either she or his father, had understood how deeply he had been hurt by the disintegration of his marriage to Josie Tate.
They talked frankly thereafter, Julian admitting he had failed in his marriage to Josie, because he had never succeeded in making her love him as he had loved her and did not know how to show her he cared for her.
“I was too young, too self-conscious, unaccustomed to speaking openly of my feelings. I thought it was enough to encourage and praise her work and hope it would all come right. It did not, of course.
“With Jessica it is different. She knows instinctively how to love deeply and to let me love her. She has brought me new hope; I know in my heart that we will be very happy together.”
Elizabeth, remembering her own experience, recognised that here indeed were the beginnings of a deeper, more satisfying love and the prospect of a genuinely happy union. Her once shy, tongue-tied, awkward son had, at last, found words to express his deepest feelings. She was content, glad she had spoken and more at ease with him
now; confident he would recognise and, even more importantly, nurture the happiness that Jessica could bring him in marriage.
He told her then that they wanted only a very quiet family wedding with no grand celebrations, and she agreed.
As Julian rose to leave, Elizabeth rose too, and they embraced, she assuring him of her love and prayers, he pledging his devotion and gratitude.
“Have no fears, Julian; I know this will be a good, strong marriage,” she said, and this time there were no tears.
It was the closest they had been since he was a very little boy, and both mother and son were deeply moved by the encounter.
Earlier, on that same day, Elizabeth had spent time with Jessica, who had, amidst a few tears and some laughter, confessed that she was a little apprehensive about going to Africa with Julian, but quite undaunted by the prospect of marrying him.
“Dear cousin Lizzie, if you only knew how long and with what little hope I have loved him, you will understand why it seems the most wonderful thing in the world to me,” she had said, in answer to Elizabeth's enquiry if she was not a little concerned after Josie's unhappy experience with Julian.
“You do know his dedication to his research is certain to continue? Are you not apprehensive?”
Jessica's answer had been unequivocal. “How can I be apprehensive of something I have longed for, over many years?”
Elizabeth had held her hands in hers and asked again, “Are you not daunted, Jessie, even a little, by all that has gone before? You must know he blames himself for much of it.”
“No indeed, I am not daunted. I do not mean to say that they were not matters of concern to me. They could be quite serious and worrying to those who neither knew nor understood the two persons involved. I did not know Josie well, but I did learn from Mama that she had often been lonely and unhappy, thwarted in her ambition to write and be published. It must have been difficult for her to abandon all her hopes for marriage. I have no such unfulfilled ambitions, no deep frustrations to complain of; I have been richly blessed in my family and friends, whose love and affection have sustained me. I have enjoyed my work at Pemberley, and all my dreams were of Julian. My only sorrow, that he did not even notice my existence.”
Postscript from Pemberley Page 26
