Mr. Darcy's Secret (3 page)

Darcy walked back to the table to his sister's side and putting out his hand took up Georgiana's small one to pat it reassuringly. "I am sorry if I frightened you, Georgiana, but I was rather cross. I am quite composed now, do not worry."

Miss Darcy looked up and smiled, her affection for her brother clearly etched on every feature. "I am not worried, you know; however rude Lady Catherine might be, her bark is always worse than her bite. I am so sorry, Fitzwilliam, that such a lovely day has been spoiled."

"Oh, do not worry about that, my dear little sister. Nothing could spoil this day for me, which has to be the happiest I have ever known."

Looking over at his wife, Elizabeth caught his eye and the look of love that passed between them made Georgiana smile again. She placed her napkin on the table and rose to leave. "I must go and see Mrs Annesley now, if you will excuse me. There is a drawing I have to finish." She paused at the door and turned toward the happy couple. "I am so delighted that you are both here, especially you, Lizzy."

After she had gone, Elizabeth was concerned that Georgiana might still feel upset about the letter. She felt perhaps her own behaviour had not helped matters and was fearful that she might have embarrassed Georgiana by her forthrightness. "I do not think your sister is used to people teasing you or being rude to you. I do hope she was not affronted."

"Not at all. I should think if anyone's behaviour induced embarrassment it must have been my own. Not just that I was outspoken and impulsive with regard to my aunt's letter. I confess I am forgetting my manners of late when I am with you. Being in the company of lovers is somewhat tedious for anyone else, especially when they must listen to the protestations of love from a newly wedded husband."

"Oh, Mr Darcy, I can find no fault in your manners," said Elizabeth, returning to the table to stand before her beloved husband. "Indeed, they have improved so much that I declare I am quite delighted by your protestations."

"How delighted are you, Mrs Darcy?" he cried, pulling her towards him. "I need proof of such a declaration."

"Oh, my love, I cannot imagine how to accomplish such an avowal to your satisfaction."

"Can you not, Mrs Darcy?" he whispered, enfolding his wife in his arms and planting a tender kiss on her cheek. "Then please let me be the one to enlighten you."

The afternoon disappeared in blissful companionship. Relaxing on a sofa in their private sitting room before a log fire dozing in each other's arms was as close as Elizabeth imagined earthly paradise could be. The day was drawing to a close, shadows creeping stealthily inside and out. Through the floor-length windows, Elizabeth could see the wintry sun low on the horizon, like a scarlet ball sending ribbons of flame and crimson across the sky, making silhouettes of the trees and gilding the water below to a burnished copper. The soft candlelight within mirrored the scene to perfection, so where the interior finished and the garden began seemed indistinct. Happiness filled her soul at everything she observed, but most especially at the sight of her handsome husband slumbering at her side. She kissed him on the cheek but had no wish to wake him; he looked so very peaceful. Lizzy stretched and, getting up, looked about, wondering if she could remember which of the doors was the one to her dressing room. She could not resist another peep into her bedchamber, even if she thought she had better start getting ready for dinner. The heavy door opened onto a scene of delight to Elizabeth's eyes. Decorated in hues of her favourite yellow, her bedchamber looked a sunny room even in dim candlelight. Little had she realised in all their conversations at Longbourn that all the while Mr Darcy had been making mental notes of her preferences in all matters of style. Fitzwilliam had executed every single wish that she could possibly have had. Fresh lavender-scented linen on the bed and plumped pillows embroidered with the Darcy crest looked so inviting that she wished she could dispense with dinner entirely. At the foot of the huge oak tester bed, complete with floral drapes to keep in the warmth, a bowl of potpourri filled with dried roses on a chest assailed her senses with the fragrance of a summer's day. Elizabeth sat down at her dressing table and, glancing at her image in the glass, she was astonished by her reflection, at the sophisticated young woman who looked back at her. How much she seemed to have changed, she thought, in the short time she had become Mrs Darcy, although she readily acknowledged that the appearance of a well-dressed young woman did not altogether reflect the true state of her inner feelings. No matter how much she had convinced herself that being Mrs Darcy would be a matter she could easily take in her stride, wanting to prove her worth as a fitting consort for her husband delighted and unsettled her in equal measures.

Her thoughts turned to the events of the day. Recalling the old woman who had talked of Pemberley heirs, Lizzy could hardly contemplate the subject that filled her with not only a sense of fear, but also of excitement. How soon would there be another firing at the anvil, she wondered. That was a prospect to delight in, even if the very thought was disturbing. A picture of the man she adored smiling at her with that expression she loved most came uppermost to her mind, but whilst she contemplated, she also recollected that today had brought its troubles as well as its joys. Fitzwilliam had seemed very upset when the anvil had been accidentally fired as they arrived at Pemberley; his reaction had startled her, she had to admit. That incident coupled with the letter he had received from Lady Catherine had really ruffled Darcy's feathers. But it had been an eventful and emotional day for them both. Elizabeth thought how much she had to learn about her husband and about being a new wife. One of her first duties must surely involve helping Fitzwilliam be united with his aunt. Proud and disagreeable as Lady Catherine had proved, Elizabeth did not want to be the reason for ending their intimacy. How she was to accomplish such a feat would bring all her powers of cunning, tact, and persuasion to bear. No matter, it would be done somehow and she hoped sooner rather than later. But for now she must look forward to a pleasant evening and the prospect of their first night at Pemberley House. Elizabeth fixed a silk flower in her hair, blew out the candles, and went in search of her darling husband.

Mr Darcy was proved right. A constant flow of visitors eager to see the new bride arrived every morning during the following week. Elizabeth met all the notable families in the area--the Calladines, the Eatons, the Vernons, and the Bradshaws--whose invitations to dine soon mounted on the mantelpiece. Lizzy was happy to meet her neighbours if slightly overwhelmed and exhausted by the experience. As pleasant as the local gentry appeared to be, she soon gained the impression that here, as in any other locality, gossip was rife amongst its inhabitants, and she had to admit she felt most disconcerted by much of what she heard. All she could do was to put such tittle-tattle out of her mind, although one particular tale left her feeling most perplexed. That it involved the Darcy family, albeit indirectly, Elizabeth knew must be at the heart of her uneasiness.

The evening before last had promised to be a trial before it even began. Their hostess, Lady Rackham, was an old acquaintance of Darcy's aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and Elizabeth had no doubt that she would be under particular scrutiny. Before dinner there had been the usual polite but pointed conversation aimed at discovering as much about Lizzy's past and social connections as possible. That this examination had amused her there could be no question, but when the conversation turned to the connection with Darcy's aunt, Elizabeth knew she must be on her guard for her husband's sake. She had the feeling that Lady Rackham had been influenced in her disapproval of Mr Darcy's marriage and that Lady Catherine's opinions of Elizabeth had swiftly become Lady Rackham's own before she had even made the acquaintance.

"Mrs Darcy, I expect you will be staying with Lady Catherine in town for the coming season," said Lady Rackham. "I know Mr Darcy always looks forward to being in London with his aunt, and that she too depends very much upon his company."

Before Elizabeth had a chance to answer, however, Mr Darcy spoke out. He had overheard the conversation and gave his reply, which was abrupt and to the point.

"We have no plans at the present time to go to London, Lady Rackham."

"Oh dear, Mr Darcy, I know your aunt quite depends on your attendance for her comfort."

"I am sure my aunt will find she has enough diversion in London. Besides, it is my wish to stay in Derbyshire."

"I do hope your aunt will not suffer too much under her disappointment at your absence in town. But, I daresay you and Mrs Darcy have your reasons for staying away. And in any case, I expect Lady Catherine will be making her usual visit to Pemberley after Christmas," she said. "She has many friends who welcome her visits; I look forward with great anticipation to her coming to Derbyshire. We have so much to discuss."

Mr Darcy turned away at that moment to address Lord Rackham as if he had not heard her speak. Elizabeth felt mortified by his rude manners and, deciding that she must answer in the affirmative, declared that they were looking forward to a visit whenever Lady Catherine wished to call.

"I know how much she and her daughter look forward to coming to Derbyshire," continued Lady Rackham. "It is a pity that Miss de Bourgh suffers so much with poor health, but I am sure the Derbyshire air does her good. Of course, in the old days when Mrs Darcy was alive we had such splendid gatherings at Pemberley. She and Lady Catherine were the celebrated sisters of their day, such noble blood, with all the elevation of rank--the epitome of fine, aristocratic connections. But with Lady Anne Darcy's untimely death it all came to an end."

"It must have had a devastating effect upon the family," ventured Elizabeth.

"The consequences of that poor lady's death cannot be underestimated--the cost to Pemberley, I do not think we have ever fully appreciated until now. That her influence in all matters is no longer felt is a true detriment. As Lady Catherine said, its history is taking a turn I am certain she would not have endorsed."

Lady Rackham scrutinised Elizabeth with such an expression of hauteur that she felt as if she had personally been accused of causing the lady's demise. Her none too subtle hints seemed to be suggesting that if Mr Darcy's mother had still been alive Elizabeth would certainly not have taken her place. Too shocked to immediately respond, it was with some relief Elizabeth heard that they were all being asked to take their seats for dinner. Holding on to her husband's arm and feeling his reassuring presence as they entered the room, Elizabeth reminded herself that she knew there were always going to be those people connected with Lady Catherine whom she was never going to please. By agreeing to marry Mr Darcy, she had known that there were going to be many trials ahead. Rising above them was a matter she had to overcome.

The dinner passed in the usual way with much consumption by the gentlemen and little from their partners, who were all engaged in the pursuit of talking too much to be eating. At the correct time the ladies withdrew from the table leaving the gentlemen to their drinks and speculation on the sport that was to follow the next day. How Elizabeth wished she could stay with them, even though shooting was not a subject that held much interest. The thought of more searching questions and sneering remarks filled her with dread. She knew it was a matter of time before she would be singled out for the usual probing inspection and it was not long before Mrs Eaton sought Elizabeth's company. They had only met once before but that lady had established herself as a gossip and inquisitive to the point of offensiveness. Elizabeth was on her mettle.

After making enquiries about how Mrs Darcy had been enjoying the hospitality of the people in the surrounding district, the subject of Pemberley, Georgiana, and of Mr Darcy's mother arose again.

"Miss Georgiana is growing into a fine young lady," said Mrs Eaton. "I expect she'll have her coming out soon and we shall see her being courted. I cannot believe she is of an age for dancing with all that that entails." Shaking her head, she sighed. "To think all that time has passed, and that poor girl never knowing her mother. I cannot bear to think of her never experiencing the warmth of maternal love."

"It is true, a mother's care is of a special kind," Elizabeth commented thoughtfully, "but surely it does not follow that there is necessarily any neglect if a child receives love from a devoted parent or sibling--a father or a brother may also bestow much affection, and in my opinion, show quite as much attachment."

"Mrs Darcy, I did not mean to imply that there was ever any absence of care for Miss Georgiana. Indeed, I would say that generally speaking there was more than enough attention lavished on Miss Darcy. No, I believe love has never been wanting in her case. And to speak plainly, she certainly didn't suffer for want of love from one particular quarter."

Elizabeth met Mrs Eaton's eyes and bore all the study of her careful observation. With great alarm, she suddenly felt on her guard; surely this lady had no knowledge of Georgiana's unfortunate past affair with the scandalous Mr Wickham. If she had prior knowledge of the sad business Lizzy was unsure, but she felt relieved that Mrs Eaton did not allude to the comment again as she continued without a pause for breath.

"I daresay you've heard tell of old Mrs Darcy's lady's maid. She was like a second mother to Miss Georgiana until she went away."

The turn in the conversation took her aback, but Elizabeth assured her that she knew of no such lady. "Indeed, I know very little about Mr Darcy's mother, I must confess."

"The poor lady was very fond of Rachel Tissington, I can tell you. When Mrs Darcy died giving birth to Miss Georgiana, her maid lavished as much love on the babe as if she were her own. I daresay if things had not turned out quite as they did, she'd have seen her grow up into the young woman she is today."

Elizabeth instinctively knew that Mrs Eaton was referring to some unpleasantness and desperately sought to change the subject. But her companion was undeterred.

"Between you and me, that's what started it--tending for the babe and longing for a child--as it often does with the lower orders. I am not one to gossip, I can assure you, Mrs Darcy, but when a penniless servant girl is set up for life in a cottage of her own and finds a husband and a baby within a few short months, it is bound to be commented on. Well, it is a blessing Mrs Darcy knew nothing of it, that's all I can say. I am sure it would have broken her heart."

Elizabeth could scarcely hide her astonishment. Unperturbed, Mrs Eaton continued, "Master Tissington was celebrating his birthday on the day you arrived, I believe." Mrs Eaton smiled at Elizabeth. "Well, it was all some years ago now. He's growing into a tall, handsome young man, not a bit of the farm boy about him, they say."

Lizzy had long since formed a very poor opinion of Mrs Eaton on the last occasion of their meeting, but this outburst confirmed her very worst suspicions. How she could have attracted the affable Mr Eaton, Lizzy could not think. On reflection, she decided that it was highly likely that Mrs Eaton's fortune might have prompted Cupid for she was certain it could not have been her charms.

"Well, it's happened before and it will happen again, I daresay, and I don't suppose the boy will ever learn anything of his true heritage. 'Tis a terrible place for gossip, but some very spiteful people say that Master Tissington's father is of noble descent. You might think so, for his mother certainly puts on airs in her little cottage at Birchlow."

Elizabeth felt her heart beating so fast she was sure it might burst. Every feeling of indignation and protest at this woman's horrid, unfeeling intimations filled her with a sense of disgust. It was fortunate that Lady Rackham chose that moment to call upon one of the ladies to play upon the pianoforte or the temptation to tell her what she thought of her uncivil and distasteful discourse might have been effected.

Not long after that the gentlemen joined them, Mr Darcy seeking her out and immediately putting her at ease merely by being there. But despite the reassurance of her husband's company, Elizabeth felt out of sorts. On the journey home in the carriage she could not help recalling Mrs Eaton's words. There had been something so underhand in her manner of communication, an attempt to unsettle her, Elizabeth felt. It was hardly a subject for discussion, and yet the hints Mrs Eaton had made left her feeling that there was more to this tale than one of the servant girl and the child it involved. If only Jane were here to discuss and have it over. A picture of her sister came to mind, and the thought that Jane would have dismissed Mrs Eaton's nastiness as not worth worrying about eased her mind for the present. Neither did she consider that she would mention the episode to Fitzwilliam. Thinking that it was not a matter to be brought to her husband's attention and determined to put the incident out of her mind, she refused to contemplate the matter any further.

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Elizabeth longed for a moment of peace and solitude with a chance to explore her new home. There had not been much opportunity to walk about the grounds as much as she would like, but she supposed it was inevitable that there would be constraints on her leisure time, at least until things settled down. When a letter from Netherfield arrived from Jane, she immediately felt the delight of such a communication with her sister as it became clear that she too was suffering under the same engagements, even if she seemed able to bear it all with far more presence of mind.

On the following Tuesday afternoon, finding the time to take a stroll together at last, Fitzwilliam suggested they walk high into the woods, taking the path past the water cascade. The day was fine, the November sun melting the crystals of ice frosting the grass and the remaining leaves on the trees. The sound of the rushing water falling down the hillside, bubbling along, was a joyful noise to Elizabeth's ears, and as they walked she admired all the views around.

The subject of their conversation soon turned from nature to nurture and subsequently to that of Miss Darcy.

"It is so good to have Georgiana with us," said Elizabeth, taking his arm as they progressed up the steeper part of the hill. "If only we can make Pemberley into a cheerful home for her once more, I will be happy. I am conscious that she has spent considerable time in London and must have missed her childhood home greatly. I am most anxious that she may come to feel the happiness she formerly knew in this house when your parents were alive."

"It is a relief to have her with me again, with us, Elizabeth. I am so fortunate to have you help me with Georgiana, as I know you will."

"I only hope there are not too many memories to haunt her, ones that might give rise to the unhappiness and melancholy that she suffered in the past."

"Never will I forgive that blackguard George Wickham for his treatment of my sister. To think how I might have prevented it if I had spent more time with her."

He stopped and Elizabeth observed how altered his mood became when the displeasing subject of their brother-in-law was touched upon. His black eyes seemed darker than ever and his smile, which usually softened his features into gentleness, was replaced by a scowl. It was evident that he struggled with his composure.

Elizabeth could not bear to see him so upset. "Fortunately for your sister, there was no great harm done, which cannot be said for my own."

"There is always great harm done where that gentleman is concerned," he answered. "At least in Newcastle he has a chance to redeem himself. We can only hope that their marriage will succeed, even if I feel my hopes for such an accomplishment are quite in vain."

"I cannot help but feel for my heedless sister. Lydia will have to live with him for the rest of her life. However silly and imprudent her behaviour, in my heart I do not think she deserved such a fate, even if I know there was nothing more that could be done."

They gained the top of the hill and, looking down, saw the valley and the rising prominence on the other side of the vale. "I do not mean to sound so ungrateful, Fitzwilliam. Without your intervention, who knows what would have become of Lydia. No doubt, when Wickham had become tired of her... Oh, I cannot even contemplate such a thing!"