Taking his cue from her, Darcy replied, “And if I confess that was indeed my intention, might I hope to escape your censure, were I to plead in mitigation that I felt you may need some persuasion?”
Sensing that he was on the defensive, she was determined to tease him.
“Why would you believe that?” she asked.
He was a little slow to respond, appearing to search for an answer. “Perhaps because in recent times, I may have appeared to have neglected you a little.”
It was the first time he had made mention of the awkwardness that had come about between them in the last few weeks, and Kathryn was curious to discover his meaning.
“In what ways, especially?” she asked, and though she was quite genuine, he believed she was still in a mood to taunt him and, throwing her an injured look, pleaded, “Must I? Dearest Kathryn, pray do not torment me. Will you not forgive me and spare me this penance? Let me only ask you, please, to name the date for our wedding. I think we have waited long enough and should like very much if it could be in the Autumn.”
Surprised by the sudden excitement in his voice, conscious also of the re-kindled warmth and passion in his manner as he reassured her of his love, she realised then, not least from the heightened response of her own heart, that nothing had really changed; they were as much in love as they had ever been.
Her answer, that she would gladly marry him in the Autumn, on whatever day he wished to choose, brought an entirely predictable response.
There is no reason to give an account of what followed, for each pair of lovers will discover what delights them most. Suffice it to say, that neither had known such profound and tender feelings ever before as they now acknowledged to each other. Darcy was as surprised by the intensity of his ardour as by the warmth of hers, for Kathryn, knowing she was so well loved, had no reason to tease or dissemble, and let him see how well she understood him and how deeply she cared, sweeping away any doubts that may have trammeled up their present contentment.
Later, as they wandered through the house, he told her of Colin Elliott's proposition. She was surprised and seemed somewhat concerned, until he remarked, almost casually, “I do not intend to accept, of course.”
To which she said, “But, Darcy, is it not what you have always wanted?”
His reply surprised her. “I once assumed it was, but no longer… I have thought about it long and hard and reached the conclusion that my place is here, with you, with my family and Pemberley.”
Seeing her astonishment, he asked, “Tell me, my love, what do you think I should do?”
Her answer was honest and unequivocal. “Darcy, you must do as your head and your heart direct you. Had you decided to go to Westminster, I should not have tried to change your mind—but it would have cost me dearly. While I love you with all my heart, I do not believe I could walk away from the school after the solemn undertaking I have given Jessica to carry it forward until her return. Nor would it have been easy to leave Mama and Elena again to care alone for my father. He finds such comfort from my presence and was so pleased that we would live in the neighbourhood; had I moved to London, it would have broken his heart.”
“And yet you would have come with me to Westminster?” he asked.
“Of course, whenever you wished me to be there. I should not have married you and asked you to give up your ambition for me.”
Darcy drew her to him and held her, his hands clasping hers. “Nor would I ask it of you, dearest Kathryn. I love you too well to impose such an unreasonable demand upon you,” he said.
“I am honoured and delighted that you think so,” she said, and her voice trembled, betraying how deeply she was moved by his words. “It is indeed my preference that we should share our hopes and dreams and accommodate each other's wishes. But I should never presume so far as to insist that you abandon yours for mine. That would be unpardonable arrogance. Surely such self-indulgence cannot sit comfortably with love.”
“Indeed, it cannot,” he said, gathering her into his arms again, even as the darkening sky outside alerted them to the lateness of the hour.
They had lost count of time, but well aware of their responsibility to their families, they returned first to Colley Dale to tell her mother of their decision to wed in the Autumn, and thence to Camden Park and Pemberley to share their happiness with the rest of the family.
Mrs O'Hare was truly delighted and expressed her satisfaction in the warmest terms. “I am so pleased my dear Kate and Mr Gardiner have fixed the day at last,” she said to her husband and Elena after the couple had left. “I confess I was beginning to be concerned. Not that I did not trust Mr Gardiner implicitly, but because I was anxious that we should have sufficient time to prepare for the occasion. It is not every day that one gives a daughter in marriage.”
Turning to Elena, she said, “But now, I am sure all will be well… We shall probably have to make dozens of lists—of guests to invite, food to prepare, and things to buy… It will be a most exciting time, Elena, and I shall need you to help me.”
Mrs O'Hare was clearly exhilarated by the prospect of giving her eldest daughter in marriage and plainly happy with the gentleman to whom she was to be given.
When Darcy and Kathryn arrived at Camden House, Dr Gardiner had just been called out to the hospital to attend upon a child with croup. It was ever thus, said Cassandra, who nevertheless received their news with much pleasure.
“Dr Gardiner is always being called away, and since his campaign for better hospital sanitation and hygiene has won the support of Miss Nightingale herself, he is much in demand at meetings of the profession and all the hospital boards,” she explained. “He will be very happy to know the date of your wedding has been fixed.”
Turning to her son, she added, “Darcy, your papa will be very pleased—he was saying only a few days ago that it was time you and Kathryn started on the refurbishment of the house; you will find the rooms upstairs in very good condition, but the drapes downstairs may not be to your taste. Should you wish to change them, Mr Grantham will recommend a woman who will do the work for you at a very good price. We had her do the work for Laura Ann's bedroom and have been very satisfied.”
Promising to discuss all these important domestic matters further, they had gone finally to Pemberley, where Mr and Mrs Darcy were both unambiguously delighted with their news.
Elizabeth had but one complaint: “I do love an Autumn wedding—but why will you not marry at Pemberley?” she asked, adding, “The park here looks splendid at that time of year; you could not ask for a prettier setting.”
Darcy had explained that Mr and Mrs O'Hare would probably prefer that they were married at Kympton, which was their parish church, and of course, the wedding breakfast should be at Colley Dale.
“Besides, I have asked Frank Grantley to marry us; it will probably be his first wedding in his new church,” he said.
Mr Darcy, sensitive to Kathryn's feelings, said it was no matter anyway, since the living of Kympton was part of the Pemberley estate and Frank Grantley was his nephew, which would make it almost as good as being at Pemberley. His wife, taking her cue from her husband, agreed and said that they would hold a dinner party for the happy couple before their wedding, so that everyone could meet Kathryn.
Darcy was clearly pleased, and Kathryn appreciated their kindness and their ready acceptance of her. Time was when the marriage of any member of the Darcy family to a son or daughter of an Irish horse trainer would have been considered a mésalliance of tragic proportions!
It was late when Darcy had taken her home to Colley Dale and, following a reluctant and prolonged leave-taking, left promising to call on the morrow, which was a Saturday, so they could begin their preparations for the wedding. Kathryn, still feeling a sense of unreal elation, partook only of a cup of tea before going upstairs, where she found her sister waiting up for her. Elena had waited several hours for her sister to return and was keen to ask a few questions of her own.
“Dear Kat
e, I am so happy, and I am sure you are going to be very happy with your handsome Mr Gardiner; shall I be your bridesmaid?”
Kathryn was touched and embraced her young sister. “Thank you, and of course you shall, just so long as you do not insist on wearing pink. It is a colour I abhor!”
Promising faithfully never to wear pink ever again, Elena then proceeded to ask where they would live, how many servants would they have, and many more questions until Kate, beginning to feel very sleepy, begged to be excused.
Still bright-eyed at two in the morning, Elena had one more question. “Kate, when you are married, do you suppose your Mr Gardiner could ask his grandfather if I may have permission to read in the library at Pemberley? I have never seen such a wonderful array of books! There must be thousands of them!”
Kathryn laughed; she knew well her sister's enthusiasm for reading. “Dear me, that I am afraid we shall have to wait and see, because it is not in my Mr Gardiner's power to give you permission to use the library. However, I am sure he will apply to Mr Darcy on your behalf, and if you promise to be very quiet, Mr Darcy may well let you in!”
Promising to be quieter than a mouse, Elena went to her room to dream of the delights of the Pemberley library, while Kathryn was left to ponder the events of the day as she prepared for bed.
The weather changed suddenly on the morning after and a low mist hung over the moors and rolled into the dales, interfering with their plans.
Darcy, who had been invited to dine at Colley Dale, was late arriving, and Kathryn was feeling tired after the excitement and activity of the previous evening.
Which being the case, they spent most of the afternoon in the comfort of the warm parlour talking, rather than making plans. When Elena brought them in some cake and tea, Darcy asked if she would like to attend the May festival at Pemberley on the following Saturday. The invitation was gleefully accepted by Elena, who had never been to a May festival before.
“Shall we all go?” she asked eagerly, and Darcy thought that was a good idea and said so.
“Why ever not? It will let Kathryn meet some of the people on the estate. Would you like that?” he asked.
Kathryn had some reservations and needed to be persuaded. “Would it not be as good as announcing our engagement to the entire population of the district?” she asked nervously, and Darcy, not wishing to embarrass or discomfit her, asked, “Would that worry you, Kathryn?”
She thought a while before replying, “No, not if you were with me.”
He was quick to reassure her. “Which I will be, of course. Have no fears, my love; I have heard not a single word against you on the estate, and since you went to work with Jessica at the school, there have been so many compliments from the mothers of the girls you teach. They were afraid that when Jessica married, the school would suffer, but you have done so well, they are most grateful.”
Inclined after that solemn speech to tease him a little, she asked, “And does that mean they appreciate Miss O'Hare the school teacher, or do they like me for what I am?”
“I would declare that they do both, for you are indeed an excellent teacher and yet I defy them not to love you; how could they not?”
At this, she looked at him, thinking he was teasing her in return, but, seeing the look in his eyes, saw that she had no longer any need to wonder at the strength and consistency of his love for her.
Yet there was one subject that had not been spoken of which had lain hidden in her heart. When the rest of the family had withdrawn, she asked the question that had troubled her for several weeks and to which she had as yet found no answer.
“Darcy, I must ask this if only to set my heart at rest; pray do not be angry; I mean no offence, but I must know the truth. It will not do for me to pretend it is of no importance, because it has troubled me greatly.
“During the past four or five weeks, there were times when you stayed away for several days at a time, and when you did come to see me, you seemed preoccupied and grave, as though you had some weight upon your mind.
“I had hoped you would speak of it to me, but you did not, and I have been concerned that you said nothing. What was it caused you to be so distracted and perhaps even indifferent to me?” she asked.
As she spoke, Darcy's expression changed. He had hoped he would never have to explain the circumstances that had occasioned his unusual behaviour, but there was no avoiding it now.
“Dearest Kathryn, I will answer you, but promise me, you will not misunderstand my words or my motives when I do.”
She did, and he went on, “I admit I have been preoccupied of late, but it was not indifference, nor any change of feeling on my part. What transpired was caused by the intervention of our old enemy, Mr Hartley-Brown.”
“What? I believed him to be in America!” she exclaimed, shocked at his words.
“So did I, but having returned from the United States, where he apparently found no favour, he seems to be as vicious as ever. The passage of time is clearly of no significance to a man as evil as he is. Sometime last month, I received in the mail a letter in an unfamiliar hand. I opened it, never suspecting that it contained a poisonous accusation and a threat to send similar documents to my father and Mr Darcy. The blackguard had obviously discovered that we were engaged and was trying to turn my relations against you.”
“Against me? What did it say?” She was pale with apprehension.
Her hand trembled as he held it and said, “It is of no consequence now, because, my dear Kathryn, it has all been dealt with. I would never have mentioned the matter had you not asked the question, but since you have, I thought it best to be open with you.”
She was deeply distressed. “If you will not reveal what it said, then will you not at least tell me how it was dealt with and who else among your acquaintance and family knew of it?” she asked, concerned that her reputation may have been sullied.
“Certainly, if it will put your mind at rest. But you must not be upset, since it was a vile lie, wholly untrue and proven to be so. In order to expose it and its author, I had to make a couple of journeys, outside the county and once to London. With my brother-in-law Mr Carr, who is the only other person in my family to whom I have spoken of this matter, I returned to Yorkshire to see Mrs Ellis. She gave us a sworn statement about Hartley-Brown and his activities at Lindfield, which enabled us to enlist the help of Lord Denny and the police. They tracked him down to a lodging house, where they apprehended a man who was not Hartley-Brown but a former confidant of his, who readily gave information against him. He was finally arrested in Worthing, among some of his cronies, and taken in for questioning. When confronted with the evidence of his crimes, he confessed to writing the letters and many other things besides,” Darcy explained.
“Where is he now?” asked Kathryn, apprehensive that the man was still able to pursue and torment her.
Darcy was quick to reassure her. “He is soon to be arraigned and prosecuted for this and other offences, including the theft of his Lordship's property. Needless to say, Lord Denny is particularly pleased with the result, and so of course should we be. He has admitted that the accusations he made against you were totally false and were made not so much out of jealousy, as I had thought then, but to extort money from me. He meant to blackmail me into paying for his silence. He thought he could gull me into believing his lies. When Carr and I called his bluff, he was easily destroyed. Hartley-Brown will trouble us no more; the villain is likely to spend quite a long spell as a guest of Her Majesty!” he said with some satisfaction.
“So you see, dearest Kathryn, it was while this matter was in progress that I stayed away. My apparent preoccupation was real enough—I was trying to find and prosecute this blackguard, during which time I had to keep my distance from you, lest I gave something away in an unguarded moment and placed our entire plan in jeopardy.”
Her disquiet was so apparent, he took both her hands in his and asked, “Do you understand now, my darling? It was never a question of a change
in my feelings for you—if anything, they have grown stronger over these weeks when I was trying to protect you. And no other member of my family has heard or will hear of these matters. My brother-in-law has given me his word that not even Lizzie will know. Perhaps I should have explained earlier; I am sorry to have caused you concern; please forgive me.”
While learning the truth had certainly made Kathryn feel better, she began to experience feelings of guilt for having doubted him. What she had thought was indifference, was in reality the very opposite. He had been engaged in defending her good name from a malicious attack by Hartley-Brown. Even the thought of it made her shudder.
Knowing now how deeply Darcy loved her, she wished to reassure him. “Darcy, of course I understand, and what is there for me to forgive? Your actions were beyond reproach. It is I who am sorry for having thought otherwise. You were not neglecting me; indeed, the reverse was true.”
There were tears in her eyes as she continued, “How shall I ever thank you enough for what you have done? Your actions have preserved not only my reputation, but protected my entire family from scandal. Had Hartley-Brown been able to spread his slander, they should all have been tainted, and I would have been to blame. Even young Elena would have suffered from the disgrace.
“My parents know nothing of my earlier, foolish association with him! It would have horrified and shamed them. Darcy, you have spared us all this, truly; I do not know how to thank you.”
Assured that she had no need to do or say any more than she had already, that he had acted as he had because he loved her, Kathryn was eager to make amends, and Darcy was content to let her affirm her love and esteem for him in the warmest, most generous words she could find.
With every question between them thus resolved, he suggested that they take a turn in the garden, to which she readily agreed. The low cloud that had earlier obscured the view had lifted, and the late evening light softened the outlines of the hills. A brisk shower had left the air clean and sweet.
Postscript from Pemberley Page 34
