Posted on 2017-04-04
This story doesn’t tell the Pride and Prejudice story, but assumes you know it. Instead, it describes the unrecorded, till now, interaction with the servant staff, which with their help, P&P had a happy ending.
With the Servant's Help:
Mrs. Leanne Hill
Housekeeper
Longborne
Miss Elizabeth may think she can hide her feelings from her family, and I no doubt she does, but I come from more observant stock. You got to be people-wise to be a servant here in Longborne. Imagine what Mrs. Bennet would be like if I taint!
I’ve worked for the Bennets starting when I was 15 and I’m much, much older now. I tried with their kids I did. When Jane was borne it wasn’t days before I knew I had to step in to help Mrs. Bennet in a major way. That help didn’t stop for the next 20 years. I installed honesty, justice and common sense in Mrs. Bennets’ first two children but in ’09 when I broke my hip and my pa died, there was only so much I could do for the young ones. I have always feel a twinge of regret when I seen how they turned out. Now I don’t blame them, I just wish I could have done more.
Well it all started the night of the Meryton assembly. My (yes, my) Jane came back from the assembly and she rushed back to kitchens to tell me about it. I had cooked some cherry scones, Jane’s favorite so we could nibble during our gossipin’, I learned about Mr. Bingley and how wonderful, … well, that’s another story. But I also learned from Jane how a Mr. Darcy must have been mighty confused and insulted our Lizzy and much more about his character.
I was able to talk to Lizzy the next morning where the information was confirmed. Though Lizzy made light of the situation, I could tell she was hurt. I worked in the conversation that one should not be hasty in making out a person’s character. I remember thinking, this man will always be in Lizzy’s bad graces. If I had only known. Well, I insisted, as I had teached her, to take a walk to clear her head, it was a gorgeous day, and I couldn’t have her sitting in the kitchen all day.
The night she and Jane return from the Netherfield ball I was able to obtain more information. Jane and Mr. Bingley’s relation was progress quite nicely. Just like a good soufflé – each recipe step needs to be careful taken and yet the result when completed, is so delicious. And Lizzy’s continue relationship (should I even call it that?) with that Mr. Darcy was examined. They had dance. They had argued.
This Mr. Darcy, that fellow started making a number of visits to Longborne. He is a silent type like my husband. You get use to them and learn that small actions mean big things. Like how he would look out the window whenever Lizzy came into the room but not two minutes later, he was catching glances of her whenever he thought no one was lookin’ at him. I learned his favorite was coffee (strong, hot) and my English shortbread. I made sure to always have some on hand for his visits after that. I decided he wasn’t half bad. Well, you include his looks, he wasn’t bad at all. Seemed just the type for Lizzy.
And that Bingley. He was just the match for Jane and I liked him mighty fine. Anyone who treats her so fine, and calls my biscuits “heavenly” is going to be on my good side. But when he and Mr. Darcy left for London and didn’t return, I was so mad. I made the toughest bread that day. Obvious spend too much time kneading and punching that bread. But if London was where they left to, the only answer was to get Jane up to London. Now, Jane didn’t take any of my hint here but I’m sure I can get Lizzy to see things my way. It didn’t take too many comments about our need for some London kitchen supplies for Lizzy to figure this out.
Now, while you may wish to know more about our other visitor, Mr. Collins – My mother taught me if you couldn’t say something nice a person, you shouldn’t say anything. So I can’t tell you anything about Mr. Collins except that he upset my Lizzy. I still need to confess to the Lord that I had my revenge by putting, well I better not say exactly what I put in his porridge the next day. Only I can’t confess until I regret what I did, and I don’t.
Abby
Parlor Maid
Huntford Parsonage
Is it that the rich don’t have brains in their heads? One cannot yell in a cottage of this size and not expect the servants to hear.
But I’m quite proud of my sex, Miss Elizabeth sure can give it as well as she can take it. She’s at it with that prideful Mister Darcy now. Marriage? Wickham? Jane? What they talkin’ about?
I try to keep as close to the door as possible to get as much information for my Mistress – oh, no I don’t mean Mrs. Collins, I mean my mistress Lady Catherine de Bourg. She’s let it be known that any interesting morsel of information I could obtain will be paid for nicely. I pass on the little stuff like the roast size Misses Collin bought or how fatty it is and the Lady does love to then preach to the Collins. So’s I make sure to watch Miss Elizabeth and isn’t it the next day that she returns with a letter that she thinks she is hiding from everyone. Now I know the post had not arrived that day so I put one and one together and get Mr. Darcy. Now the only trick is to figure out what’s in the letter. I get Miss Elizabeth to be called to the kitchen and then it’s a simple matter of a quick read of the letter.
“.. repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night …” What does this mean? Did the proud one actually propose to Miss Elizabeth? He probably thinks he can snap his fingers and she would marry him just because he’s so rich. Now I would, in a second, with a smile on my face. Dear me, I think I’m blushing! But not Miss Elizabeth, she be special.
But before I can any read any further I have to run from the room as the lady returns to the room. What more I could have learned. Damn.
A few hours later I find time to serve tea and ask if I can help Miss E. with anything. We get to chatting in that servant-mistress way where you can’t really speak your mind but you can still get your thoughts across as long as you can make your mistress think they are their own. And in the end, I make it to a point to say one, if one can, should always marry for love but one should not close doors on others, as you never know when you may love them too. I hope that helps her. I think I’ll keep this info from “the dear” Lady of Rosing.
Mrs. Brenda Steward
Housekeeper at Darcy House
London
The master is dejected. The servants are unhappy. Darcy house is affected. It is my job to see Darcy house is run well and given the circumstances, I need to take the horse by its bit if you get my point.
Sunday night and Master Darcy is in the library. I’m tempted to change the carpet in that room given the wear between the fireplace and the window. But I enter quietly and we spent ten minutes dealing with household affairs. He’s twisting his ring again so I know something eating at him. But then I look him in the eyes and ask him directly, “What is affect you so?” He brushes that off but I give him the “Lady Anne” look and he laughs nervously, and then we wait. Now I like silence. I can enjoy its length. I love the way the tension builds as I look expectantly at the master even though in fact I’m constructing my shopping list for market next week. And not three minutes later, Mr. Darcy’s shoulder relax and he says he’s been an ass. “I am all astonished!” I say before I can stop myself. Well, it’s been nice working for the man. But instead of a dismissal, he starts talking about his behavior and even more, hints about a young lady and the requirements for the Mistress of Pemberley. He has it hard – I can tell.
Finding the direct method is working well, I ask “Is there a particular person we are discussing here?” Again the silence, this time I start and complete my spring cleaning task list before I hear a meek “Yes” from Master Darcy. We spend time talking in a way few servants get the chance. The poor boy had responsibility thrust on him at an early age, a responsibility larger than most of us will ever have. But worse, he has no confidant or role models given his parents are dead. So I relate how his parents would look at this situation and how Lady Anne and his father would have wanted Mr. Darcy to have a love match. And yes Master Darcy, even if the lady was not rich or already of society. I remind him that Lady Anne herself married a non-titled man even though she was an Earl’s daughter and she never had reason to regret her actions. I think Mr. Darcy got it. I hope he does.
The next day the master and Georgiana decide to go to Pemberley – I also think it will be good for them. I suggest that perhaps a quiet ride a day ahead of times might help Mr. Darcy clear his head (and steer clear of that Miss Bingley). With a small smile, Mr. Darcy agrees to the plan.
Mr. David Hill
The Longborne man servant
Longborne
Miss Elizabeth thinks she’s a fine character taker but the girl’s only 16. You need to be an old man like me who seen the whole of the county to get a feel for people. And the feel I had of the officers that visited was just fine, expect for one worm named Wickham. It didn’t take more than two visits to see through this reptile. And a little discrete fact checking with the merchants was all that was needed to confirm his character. I wouldn’t’ve let him in the house even though Lydia likes her men in regimentals. I hinted to my master that it might make sense to investigate the militia men more completely but all I got was a dressing down by Mr. Bennet as he picks up his “Tom Jones” to continue reading. Such an educated smart man. Such a dumb-about-people man. I can at least keep a watch while the weasel’s in the house to see that nothing happens.
Mrs. Reynolds
Head Housekeeper
Pemberley
I haven’t been housekeeper, mother figure, and confidant to Mr. Darcy for so many years for him to fool me! That Bennet girl, she was quite pretty and intelligent when she and the Gardiners toured the house. My esteem for her increased when I learned she knew the Master. It’s my understanding that “those who say good things about the Master, are themselves good people.”
It wasn’t long after I released the party to the head gardener that Mr. Henry, the butler asks me to come with him to the front parlor window. I respect Mr. Henry so I made myself available immediately and look at the fine Pemberley lawn … and then notice a very strange occurrence. The master, whose jacket is off and I can’t quite tell but he looks like he’s been dunked in the pond, is talking with the Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“Do you know the women?” I turn to Mr. Henry and tell him my small experience with the lass, and what I know about her visit. “I also now remember now that Miss Darcy had happened to mention an Elizabeth several times to her brother when I happen to be within hearing distance. Oh, what did she say? Something about Bingley and such.” Sometimes I wish I was more of a busybody. It seemed very important right now.
“Do you know why the master is acting in such an odd way?” But before I can say anything the master is heading toward the house. I only have a minute to send a footman double time to find Mr. James, Mr. Darcy’s valet, and get a message down to the kitchen to get hot water immediately up to Mr. Darcy’s room before he is in the hallway yelling for his valet and water and why is everyone moving so slowly today. Off I run to make sure his wishes are met.
Ten minutes later, looking slightly more respectable, out the door he goes. Interestingly I find myself with Mr. James and Mr. Henry at the front window again. (You can’t blame us, we have the Master’s interests at heart and how are we to help without full understanding of the situation?)
“The Master is acting quite oddly today.” Opines Mr. James.
“There’s a lady involve. See her there.”
“Oh, she’s quite pretty.”
“And I’ll say she’s quite witty.” The three of us stand in silence for a minute watching the action outside. In all three of our minds, we are all thinking, “Dare we hope?”
Mr. Fox
Head Grounds Man
Pemberley
I’ve worked for the Darcys for onto 40 years but I ain’t ever seen anything like it. Now, when the boys were boys, and here I mean Mr. Darcy and that army friend of his, they would run around Pemberley making mischief left and right. I remember one summer having to run them out of the orchard as they had some plan to strip all the apples off the trees for some crazy reason. But they be grown men now. So why would Mr. Darcy be drenched head to toe as if he had just be swimming in the pond, and why would he stop to talk with country visitors I was givin’ a tour of the park.
We had just passed the statue of the Goddess Diana that Mr. Samuel Darcy had bought in 1683 and I was showing our guests the formal garden. The older folks were much pleased with the layout and I always make sure to showcase Lady Anne’s Starlight roses but the young lady had strong legs and was already investigating the north end of the garden. I saw her start, and I did immediately after when Mr. Darcy came over the edge. The two talked closely for several minutes so I bring the Gardiners, yes, that was their name, over to him.
Three minutes later, off he runs to the house like Mrs. Reynolds has offered him a piece of berry pie that he so loves.
So, I continue my tour, the short one up and back by the river. Mr. Gardiner is obvious a fisherman as he keeps eying the river for signs of fish. Mrs. Gardiner knows her flowers as the rare trillium is known to her though she says she has never seen one before. Miss Bennett is quiet - sort of nervous like a rabbit when it’s caught a dog’s scent.
As we round the corner near the first bridge, I see Mr. Darcy again coming up behind us. Now what could this mean? He knows there folks out this way and one would assume he would want to avoid them. But that’s not to be. Here he is and he tells me that he will continue the tour for these folks. With a quick nod I am dismiss but not before I can pass on confidentially that Mr. Gardiner is a fisherman. Something clicks because the Master is suddenly smiling.
Most unusual I think as I march back toward the stables. I’ll have to find out more from the boys there.
I keep my eye on them, not that I don’t trust ‘em, but there are some uneven areas on that path and I see the Darcy change places with Mrs. Gardiner to the Miss Elisabeth. My, she has fine eyes. And yet, she looks so sad. The Master also seems like he is on pins and needles – a smile here, anguish there. I hope the best for the master.
Beth Smith
Wash girl
Pemberley
Yes, I remember the episode incident distinctly as the master has never been so peculiar. It was wash day and the dirties from the upstairs rooms had all be collected. As I sorted the laundry I found a handkerchief I had never seen below. Beautiful it was, with forget-me-nots all around the edge in indigo thread and the initials E.B. I stopped and thought, “Now, Bessie, who could that be, there ain’t no EB’s in the house.” But, time and weather doesn’t wait for me so into the white’s pile it went and I returned my attention to the petticoats already soaking when, in comes the master. I was blimeyed. I didn’t even think the master knew where the washroom was. And his manner was as though the Frenchies had attacked.
“Where is it” he demand. “I want it back now!”
I, of course, says “Yes, master” even though I hadn’t the least idea to what the master was referring.
“The handkerchief – w/ blue flowers!” luckily he stated in even a more demanding mode.
With that info, and with even more surprise, I pulled apart the whites pile trying to find the blasted handkerchief in record time. It’s not easy to work when the master is breathing so hard behind you. Lord forgive, I thought he was going to help by searching the pile heself and I went bright red when I remembered what else was in that pile.
However, things got more relaxed as soon as I found the article and Mr. Darcy had it in his hands. EB on the handkerchief. Soothing thoughts on the master face. Was there a connection, I thinks to myself.
Sos at dinner, I drop a question to my fellow domestics sounding all casual and such “Humm, does anyone know why there was a handkerchief with the initial E.B. in the wash today?” Mr. Henry, the butler glances significantly at Mr. Darcy’s valet, Mr. James. But all Mr. Henry says is “This is not a concern of ours Bessie, it is important you keep your mind on your business.” Wells, I’s grown up in a household of five children and I know Mr. Henry is a stick-in-the-mud. So that night, I find the bedroom footman all alone like and ask him for his say.
“I’m trying to figure it out myself, Bessie.” He whispers. “I was in the servant’s hallway just outside his door when I hear him shouting. ‘I can’t have lost it. I have so little of her respect, so little to remember her by. It can’t be lost.’ Thinking he may be talking to someone, and not wanting to interrupt, I wait. And he continues, but this time I can tell he’s talking to himself. “She was here. She saw Pemberley. Is there hope? Do I have a chance? That blasted handkerchief is the only thing keeping me sane.”
At this point, Mr. James had arrived and knocked on his door and asked the Master what he can do to help.
Mr. Darcy gives me and Mr. James a look, and then feigning calmness, asks if he had seen a pettish handkerchief that he had bought in London for Georgianna. We’ll, the master is the master and would never lie but even I would question why his sister would want a handkerchief with the initials EB. But Mr. James answers the master that yes, he had seen the item and that it was in need of a wash.
And with that, Mr. Darcy was out the door before anyone could say another word. So, who is E.B?
Hannah Innsman
Servant at the King’s Inn
Lambdon
The Darcys has been our town’s patrons for years. I have heard tales from my father of how the late Mr. Darcy use to host hunting parties and he would always find a way to stop in the inn with his guest. Mrs. Darcy use to shop at all the stores finding something in one shop to buy and leaving a nice word w/ the owner at another. And in ‘03 when the flu was so bad my ma and pa weren’t sure to make it, wasn’t it the Darcy’s who tided us over making sure we were fed, and made well. Yes, the Darcy’s look after us and we are grateful.
The current Mr. Darcy, well, he’s been a little less outgoing. We get to see him often driving or riding through town but not as often stoppin’ in town. That’s why his visit at the Inn that day was so surprising. And that his beautiful sister, Georgianna, was present was even more of a mystery. So I curtsy and ask how I can do to serve him.
“Would you please take me to the room of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?” Now, there is a genteel couple. I had been working as ladies maid for them and Mrs. Gardiner treats me so well, with “pleases” and “thank-you’s” and “what do you thinks.” But thinking abouts it, perhaps it isn’t the Gardiner’s Mr. Darcy is interesting in seeing in that the Gardiner’s niece is also along. What a wonderful lady! Miss Elizabeth.
So I show the gentlemen and lady to room 2 and I guess right. Only Miss Elizabeth is there and Mr. Darcy is introducing his sister to her. Who are these people? I remember they are from London. And Mr. Gardiner had mentioned something about trade. And Mr. Darcy is talking with his niece. Strange and stranger.
So as I exit the room, I look to Miss Elizabeth and I see love. Yes I do. But not only in Miss Elizabeth’s eyes but also in Mr. Darcy’s. And yet in their manners, they are all stiff and proper. Why the rich folk don’t act more and think less is beyond me but here these two love birds are and not a kiss happenin’.
I wonder what my brother up at the big house can tell me as I finish closing the door.
Later that day when Seth joins our family for dinner, I have my chance. “Seth, Mr. Darcy was in town today, in our inn. He met with our lodgers in room 2.”
Seth thinks for a few seconds and replies “I’m to have the phantom ready at 5 tonight to run into town. I won’t be driving it unless there were a number of people to convey. Do you think it is this party? They are to come to Pemberley for dinner. “
“But the Gardiners are trades folks. It can’t be them. Mr. Darcy don’t hobnob with us common folks. And yet, from what I saw today, maybe … yes, … maybe.”
“What the folk’s name? asks Seth. From overheard conversations, I let him know I believe Mr. Gardiner is Edward, Mrs. Gardiner is Madaline, and the young lady is Elizabeth?
“What letter does Elizabeth start with?”
“An ‘E’, Seth!”
And with that morsel of information, all the parties have something to think about.
Hannah
What’s happened? I’m to help pack the Gardeners for their removal in an ‘our. Is it something to do with Mr. Darcy? I didn’t know so many tears could fall from such fine eyes.
Mrs. Leanne Hill
I knew that spoiled child would be the death of me.
Mr. Fox
If I ever see that weasel again, I’m going to break his …
Mr. Ethan Davidson
Man Servant at Gardener’s House
Cheapside
I’ve served the Gardeners as man servant for the last 15 years. Both Gardeners, and even their children, are very special to mes. I was down on my luck when Mr. Gardener hired me and I tried to pay back that confidence ever since. So when it became clear to me to that something very unusual was happening, and after five minutes I came to understand that Lydia Bennet was involved, I looked for a way to help.
It wasn’t hard. Mr. Gardener needed someone to protect Mr. Darcy and the Gardiner’s carriage since Mr. Darcy had to travel to the very worse parts of town. Now, I’m a gentle person at heart but the deep scar over my left eye and my size often causes people a pause to consider if they really want to go a tumble with me. And if they do, I usually hold my own.
So, into the harbor district of London we went for several days. The stop was a Miss Younge’s establishment where Mr. Darcy argued with Miss Younge while I spent my time in the kitchen. At first, the Younge servants were a suspicious people. But slowly, with some innocent gossip about the Gardiners, they opened up. They weren’t a happy group and thus in the end it was more of directing the conversation. I learned over time who Miss Younge is. And how she became a housekeeper, and … I then hit on asking about men friends and Wickham’s name was mentioned. I mentioned I thought the man had visited the Gardeners and ask for his address to validate. Unfortunately, none of them knew.
The next day I joked with the servants about the “young” Miss and her “beau” and how often they met. I was surprised to learn that no one escorts Miss Younge to Mr. Wickham’s place and that Miss Younge walks there, so it couldn’t be far. I learned later that the footman had once carried some packages for Miss Younge there but had been dismissed at the Drunk Swan Inn as Miss Younge went on alone as “Wicky was just around the corner”.
Said information was passed onto Mr. Darcy that night and I got a half crown in return! The next day, Mr. Darcy gots Miss Younge to given him the exact address of her “Wicky”!
Mrs. Leanne Hill
Well, with Mrs. Have-no-Sense Wickham now departed, I can spend some more time watch over my Lizzy. And watching over is needed as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are back in town. I see Mr. Darcy is having a hard time of it – being shy ain’t easy so one day, when Lizzy is upstairs getting her pelisse for a walk, I ask Mr. Darcy if I could have a word with him in the kitchen. He looks at me queer like but he follows me to that room.
“Excuse me for saying so Mr. Darcy but I wanted to tell you of an old wives’ tales my mother told me when I was young. It’s really rather simple but effective. One only has to do is take a shortbread cookie, eats most of it but let a portion dissolve under your tongue. As soon as the cookie dissolves, one will get a ‘yes’ to the next question one asks.”*
“Would you like a cookie?” I ask as I hold out the tin. He looks at me again hesitantly before saying “I do”. And with that, I know I’ll be hearing more of those exact words in the near future.
*I told my mother this “wives’ tale” the next time I sees her. Her response – “What a bunch of malarkey” and I couldn’t but agree. And yet, one can never argue with success.
Epilog
Mr. Darcy loves his shortbread and he loved his short engagement. We servants were able to attend the wedding as Mr. Darcy invited myself, Mrs. Steward, Mrs. Reynolds and of course Mister James. Mister James says Mr. Darcy winked at them at in the middle of the wedding but I know that ain’t true because he couldn’t take his eyes off Lizzy. He also had troubles remembering where he were given when the pastor said to kiss the bride, we all started chuckling when “the kiss that wouldn’t end” didn’t end.
With the Servant's Help:
Mrs. Leanne Hill
Housekeeper
Longborne
Miss Elizabeth may think she can hide her feelings from her family, and I no doubt she does, but I come from more observant stock. You got to be people-wise to be a servant here in Longborne. Imagine what Mrs. Bennet would be like if I taint!
I’ve worked for the Bennets starting when I was 15 and I’m much, much older now. I tried with their kids I did. When Jane was borne it wasn’t days before I knew I had to step in to help Mrs. Bennet in a major way. That help didn’t stop for the next 20 years. I installed honesty, justice and common sense in Mrs. Bennets’ first two children but in ’09 when I broke my hip and my pa died, there was only so much I could do for the young ones. I have always feel a twinge of regret when I seen how they turned out. Now I don’t blame them, I just wish I could have done more.
Well it all started the night of the Meryton assembly. My (yes, my) Jane came back from the assembly and she rushed back to kitchens to tell me about it. I had cooked some cherry scones, Jane’s favorite so we could nibble during our gossipin’, I learned about Mr. Bingley and how wonderful, … well, that’s another story. But I also learned from Jane how a Mr. Darcy must have been mighty confused and insulted our Lizzy and much more about his character.
I was able to talk to Lizzy the next morning where the information was confirmed. Though Lizzy made light of the situation, I could tell she was hurt. I worked in the conversation that one should not be hasty in making out a person’s character. I remember thinking, this man will always be in Lizzy’s bad graces. If I had only known. Well, I insisted, as I had teached her, to take a walk to clear her head, it was a gorgeous day, and I couldn’t have her sitting in the kitchen all day.
The night she and Jane return from the Netherfield ball I was able to obtain more information. Jane and Mr. Bingley’s relation was progress quite nicely. Just like a good soufflé – each recipe step needs to be careful taken and yet the result when completed, is so delicious. And Lizzy’s continue relationship (should I even call it that?) with that Mr. Darcy was examined. They had dance. They had argued.
This Mr. Darcy, that fellow started making a number of visits to Longborne. He is a silent type like my husband. You get use to them and learn that small actions mean big things. Like how he would look out the window whenever Lizzy came into the room but not two minutes later, he was catching glances of her whenever he thought no one was lookin’ at him. I learned his favorite was coffee (strong, hot) and my English shortbread. I made sure to always have some on hand for his visits after that. I decided he wasn’t half bad. Well, you include his looks, he wasn’t bad at all. Seemed just the type for Lizzy.
And that Bingley. He was just the match for Jane and I liked him mighty fine. Anyone who treats her so fine, and calls my biscuits “heavenly” is going to be on my good side. But when he and Mr. Darcy left for London and didn’t return, I was so mad. I made the toughest bread that day. Obvious spend too much time kneading and punching that bread. But if London was where they left to, the only answer was to get Jane up to London. Now, Jane didn’t take any of my hint here but I’m sure I can get Lizzy to see things my way. It didn’t take too many comments about our need for some London kitchen supplies for Lizzy to figure this out.
Now, while you may wish to know more about our other visitor, Mr. Collins – My mother taught me if you couldn’t say something nice a person, you shouldn’t say anything. So I can’t tell you anything about Mr. Collins except that he upset my Lizzy. I still need to confess to the Lord that I had my revenge by putting, well I better not say exactly what I put in his porridge the next day. Only I can’t confess until I regret what I did, and I don’t.
Abby
Parlor Maid
Huntford Parsonage
Is it that the rich don’t have brains in their heads? One cannot yell in a cottage of this size and not expect the servants to hear.
But I’m quite proud of my sex, Miss Elizabeth sure can give it as well as she can take it. She’s at it with that prideful Mister Darcy now. Marriage? Wickham? Jane? What they talkin’ about?
I try to keep as close to the door as possible to get as much information for my Mistress – oh, no I don’t mean Mrs. Collins, I mean my mistress Lady Catherine de Bourg. She’s let it be known that any interesting morsel of information I could obtain will be paid for nicely. I pass on the little stuff like the roast size Misses Collin bought or how fatty it is and the Lady does love to then preach to the Collins. So’s I make sure to watch Miss Elizabeth and isn’t it the next day that she returns with a letter that she thinks she is hiding from everyone. Now I know the post had not arrived that day so I put one and one together and get Mr. Darcy. Now the only trick is to figure out what’s in the letter. I get Miss Elizabeth to be called to the kitchen and then it’s a simple matter of a quick read of the letter.
“.. repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night …” What does this mean? Did the proud one actually propose to Miss Elizabeth? He probably thinks he can snap his fingers and she would marry him just because he’s so rich. Now I would, in a second, with a smile on my face. Dear me, I think I’m blushing! But not Miss Elizabeth, she be special.
But before I can any read any further I have to run from the room as the lady returns to the room. What more I could have learned. Damn.
A few hours later I find time to serve tea and ask if I can help Miss E. with anything. We get to chatting in that servant-mistress way where you can’t really speak your mind but you can still get your thoughts across as long as you can make your mistress think they are their own. And in the end, I make it to a point to say one, if one can, should always marry for love but one should not close doors on others, as you never know when you may love them too. I hope that helps her. I think I’ll keep this info from “the dear” Lady of Rosing.
Mrs. Brenda Steward
Housekeeper at Darcy House
London
The master is dejected. The servants are unhappy. Darcy house is affected. It is my job to see Darcy house is run well and given the circumstances, I need to take the horse by its bit if you get my point.
Sunday night and Master Darcy is in the library. I’m tempted to change the carpet in that room given the wear between the fireplace and the window. But I enter quietly and we spent ten minutes dealing with household affairs. He’s twisting his ring again so I know something eating at him. But then I look him in the eyes and ask him directly, “What is affect you so?” He brushes that off but I give him the “Lady Anne” look and he laughs nervously, and then we wait. Now I like silence. I can enjoy its length. I love the way the tension builds as I look expectantly at the master even though in fact I’m constructing my shopping list for market next week. And not three minutes later, Mr. Darcy’s shoulder relax and he says he’s been an ass. “I am all astonished!” I say before I can stop myself. Well, it’s been nice working for the man. But instead of a dismissal, he starts talking about his behavior and even more, hints about a young lady and the requirements for the Mistress of Pemberley. He has it hard – I can tell.
Finding the direct method is working well, I ask “Is there a particular person we are discussing here?” Again the silence, this time I start and complete my spring cleaning task list before I hear a meek “Yes” from Master Darcy. We spend time talking in a way few servants get the chance. The poor boy had responsibility thrust on him at an early age, a responsibility larger than most of us will ever have. But worse, he has no confidant or role models given his parents are dead. So I relate how his parents would look at this situation and how Lady Anne and his father would have wanted Mr. Darcy to have a love match. And yes Master Darcy, even if the lady was not rich or already of society. I remind him that Lady Anne herself married a non-titled man even though she was an Earl’s daughter and she never had reason to regret her actions. I think Mr. Darcy got it. I hope he does.
The next day the master and Georgiana decide to go to Pemberley – I also think it will be good for them. I suggest that perhaps a quiet ride a day ahead of times might help Mr. Darcy clear his head (and steer clear of that Miss Bingley). With a small smile, Mr. Darcy agrees to the plan.
Mr. David Hill
The Longborne man servant
Longborne
Miss Elizabeth thinks she’s a fine character taker but the girl’s only 16. You need to be an old man like me who seen the whole of the county to get a feel for people. And the feel I had of the officers that visited was just fine, expect for one worm named Wickham. It didn’t take more than two visits to see through this reptile. And a little discrete fact checking with the merchants was all that was needed to confirm his character. I wouldn’t’ve let him in the house even though Lydia likes her men in regimentals. I hinted to my master that it might make sense to investigate the militia men more completely but all I got was a dressing down by Mr. Bennet as he picks up his “Tom Jones” to continue reading. Such an educated smart man. Such a dumb-about-people man. I can at least keep a watch while the weasel’s in the house to see that nothing happens.
Mrs. Reynolds
Head Housekeeper
Pemberley
I haven’t been housekeeper, mother figure, and confidant to Mr. Darcy for so many years for him to fool me! That Bennet girl, she was quite pretty and intelligent when she and the Gardiners toured the house. My esteem for her increased when I learned she knew the Master. It’s my understanding that “those who say good things about the Master, are themselves good people.”
It wasn’t long after I released the party to the head gardener that Mr. Henry, the butler asks me to come with him to the front parlor window. I respect Mr. Henry so I made myself available immediately and look at the fine Pemberley lawn … and then notice a very strange occurrence. The master, whose jacket is off and I can’t quite tell but he looks like he’s been dunked in the pond, is talking with the Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“Do you know the women?” I turn to Mr. Henry and tell him my small experience with the lass, and what I know about her visit. “I also now remember now that Miss Darcy had happened to mention an Elizabeth several times to her brother when I happen to be within hearing distance. Oh, what did she say? Something about Bingley and such.” Sometimes I wish I was more of a busybody. It seemed very important right now.
“Do you know why the master is acting in such an odd way?” But before I can say anything the master is heading toward the house. I only have a minute to send a footman double time to find Mr. James, Mr. Darcy’s valet, and get a message down to the kitchen to get hot water immediately up to Mr. Darcy’s room before he is in the hallway yelling for his valet and water and why is everyone moving so slowly today. Off I run to make sure his wishes are met.
Ten minutes later, looking slightly more respectable, out the door he goes. Interestingly I find myself with Mr. James and Mr. Henry at the front window again. (You can’t blame us, we have the Master’s interests at heart and how are we to help without full understanding of the situation?)
“The Master is acting quite oddly today.” Opines Mr. James.
“There’s a lady involve. See her there.”
“Oh, she’s quite pretty.”
“And I’ll say she’s quite witty.” The three of us stand in silence for a minute watching the action outside. In all three of our minds, we are all thinking, “Dare we hope?”
Mr. Fox
Head Grounds Man
Pemberley
I’ve worked for the Darcys for onto 40 years but I ain’t ever seen anything like it. Now, when the boys were boys, and here I mean Mr. Darcy and that army friend of his, they would run around Pemberley making mischief left and right. I remember one summer having to run them out of the orchard as they had some plan to strip all the apples off the trees for some crazy reason. But they be grown men now. So why would Mr. Darcy be drenched head to toe as if he had just be swimming in the pond, and why would he stop to talk with country visitors I was givin’ a tour of the park.
We had just passed the statue of the Goddess Diana that Mr. Samuel Darcy had bought in 1683 and I was showing our guests the formal garden. The older folks were much pleased with the layout and I always make sure to showcase Lady Anne’s Starlight roses but the young lady had strong legs and was already investigating the north end of the garden. I saw her start, and I did immediately after when Mr. Darcy came over the edge. The two talked closely for several minutes so I bring the Gardiners, yes, that was their name, over to him.
Three minutes later, off he runs to the house like Mrs. Reynolds has offered him a piece of berry pie that he so loves.
So, I continue my tour, the short one up and back by the river. Mr. Gardiner is obvious a fisherman as he keeps eying the river for signs of fish. Mrs. Gardiner knows her flowers as the rare trillium is known to her though she says she has never seen one before. Miss Bennett is quiet - sort of nervous like a rabbit when it’s caught a dog’s scent.
As we round the corner near the first bridge, I see Mr. Darcy again coming up behind us. Now what could this mean? He knows there folks out this way and one would assume he would want to avoid them. But that’s not to be. Here he is and he tells me that he will continue the tour for these folks. With a quick nod I am dismiss but not before I can pass on confidentially that Mr. Gardiner is a fisherman. Something clicks because the Master is suddenly smiling.
Most unusual I think as I march back toward the stables. I’ll have to find out more from the boys there.
I keep my eye on them, not that I don’t trust ‘em, but there are some uneven areas on that path and I see the Darcy change places with Mrs. Gardiner to the Miss Elisabeth. My, she has fine eyes. And yet, she looks so sad. The Master also seems like he is on pins and needles – a smile here, anguish there. I hope the best for the master.
Beth Smith
Wash girl
Pemberley
Yes, I remember the episode incident distinctly as the master has never been so peculiar. It was wash day and the dirties from the upstairs rooms had all be collected. As I sorted the laundry I found a handkerchief I had never seen below. Beautiful it was, with forget-me-nots all around the edge in indigo thread and the initials E.B. I stopped and thought, “Now, Bessie, who could that be, there ain’t no EB’s in the house.” But, time and weather doesn’t wait for me so into the white’s pile it went and I returned my attention to the petticoats already soaking when, in comes the master. I was blimeyed. I didn’t even think the master knew where the washroom was. And his manner was as though the Frenchies had attacked.
“Where is it” he demand. “I want it back now!”
I, of course, says “Yes, master” even though I hadn’t the least idea to what the master was referring.
“The handkerchief – w/ blue flowers!” luckily he stated in even a more demanding mode.
With that info, and with even more surprise, I pulled apart the whites pile trying to find the blasted handkerchief in record time. It’s not easy to work when the master is breathing so hard behind you. Lord forgive, I thought he was going to help by searching the pile heself and I went bright red when I remembered what else was in that pile.
However, things got more relaxed as soon as I found the article and Mr. Darcy had it in his hands. EB on the handkerchief. Soothing thoughts on the master face. Was there a connection, I thinks to myself.
Sos at dinner, I drop a question to my fellow domestics sounding all casual and such “Humm, does anyone know why there was a handkerchief with the initial E.B. in the wash today?” Mr. Henry, the butler glances significantly at Mr. Darcy’s valet, Mr. James. But all Mr. Henry says is “This is not a concern of ours Bessie, it is important you keep your mind on your business.” Wells, I’s grown up in a household of five children and I know Mr. Henry is a stick-in-the-mud. So that night, I find the bedroom footman all alone like and ask him for his say.
“I’m trying to figure it out myself, Bessie.” He whispers. “I was in the servant’s hallway just outside his door when I hear him shouting. ‘I can’t have lost it. I have so little of her respect, so little to remember her by. It can’t be lost.’ Thinking he may be talking to someone, and not wanting to interrupt, I wait. And he continues, but this time I can tell he’s talking to himself. “She was here. She saw Pemberley. Is there hope? Do I have a chance? That blasted handkerchief is the only thing keeping me sane.”
At this point, Mr. James had arrived and knocked on his door and asked the Master what he can do to help.
Mr. Darcy gives me and Mr. James a look, and then feigning calmness, asks if he had seen a pettish handkerchief that he had bought in London for Georgianna. We’ll, the master is the master and would never lie but even I would question why his sister would want a handkerchief with the initials EB. But Mr. James answers the master that yes, he had seen the item and that it was in need of a wash.
And with that, Mr. Darcy was out the door before anyone could say another word. So, who is E.B?
Hannah Innsman
Servant at the King’s Inn
Lambdon
The Darcys has been our town’s patrons for years. I have heard tales from my father of how the late Mr. Darcy use to host hunting parties and he would always find a way to stop in the inn with his guest. Mrs. Darcy use to shop at all the stores finding something in one shop to buy and leaving a nice word w/ the owner at another. And in ‘03 when the flu was so bad my ma and pa weren’t sure to make it, wasn’t it the Darcy’s who tided us over making sure we were fed, and made well. Yes, the Darcy’s look after us and we are grateful.
The current Mr. Darcy, well, he’s been a little less outgoing. We get to see him often driving or riding through town but not as often stoppin’ in town. That’s why his visit at the Inn that day was so surprising. And that his beautiful sister, Georgianna, was present was even more of a mystery. So I curtsy and ask how I can do to serve him.
“Would you please take me to the room of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?” Now, there is a genteel couple. I had been working as ladies maid for them and Mrs. Gardiner treats me so well, with “pleases” and “thank-you’s” and “what do you thinks.” But thinking abouts it, perhaps it isn’t the Gardiner’s Mr. Darcy is interesting in seeing in that the Gardiner’s niece is also along. What a wonderful lady! Miss Elizabeth.
So I show the gentlemen and lady to room 2 and I guess right. Only Miss Elizabeth is there and Mr. Darcy is introducing his sister to her. Who are these people? I remember they are from London. And Mr. Gardiner had mentioned something about trade. And Mr. Darcy is talking with his niece. Strange and stranger.
So as I exit the room, I look to Miss Elizabeth and I see love. Yes I do. But not only in Miss Elizabeth’s eyes but also in Mr. Darcy’s. And yet in their manners, they are all stiff and proper. Why the rich folk don’t act more and think less is beyond me but here these two love birds are and not a kiss happenin’.
I wonder what my brother up at the big house can tell me as I finish closing the door.
Later that day when Seth joins our family for dinner, I have my chance. “Seth, Mr. Darcy was in town today, in our inn. He met with our lodgers in room 2.”
Seth thinks for a few seconds and replies “I’m to have the phantom ready at 5 tonight to run into town. I won’t be driving it unless there were a number of people to convey. Do you think it is this party? They are to come to Pemberley for dinner. “
“But the Gardiners are trades folks. It can’t be them. Mr. Darcy don’t hobnob with us common folks. And yet, from what I saw today, maybe … yes, … maybe.”
“What the folk’s name? asks Seth. From overheard conversations, I let him know I believe Mr. Gardiner is Edward, Mrs. Gardiner is Madaline, and the young lady is Elizabeth?
“What letter does Elizabeth start with?”
“An ‘E’, Seth!”
And with that morsel of information, all the parties have something to think about.
Hannah
What’s happened? I’m to help pack the Gardeners for their removal in an ‘our. Is it something to do with Mr. Darcy? I didn’t know so many tears could fall from such fine eyes.
Mrs. Leanne Hill
I knew that spoiled child would be the death of me.
Mr. Fox
If I ever see that weasel again, I’m going to break his …
Mr. Ethan Davidson
Man Servant at Gardener’s House
Cheapside
I’ve served the Gardeners as man servant for the last 15 years. Both Gardeners, and even their children, are very special to mes. I was down on my luck when Mr. Gardener hired me and I tried to pay back that confidence ever since. So when it became clear to me to that something very unusual was happening, and after five minutes I came to understand that Lydia Bennet was involved, I looked for a way to help.
It wasn’t hard. Mr. Gardener needed someone to protect Mr. Darcy and the Gardiner’s carriage since Mr. Darcy had to travel to the very worse parts of town. Now, I’m a gentle person at heart but the deep scar over my left eye and my size often causes people a pause to consider if they really want to go a tumble with me. And if they do, I usually hold my own.
So, into the harbor district of London we went for several days. The stop was a Miss Younge’s establishment where Mr. Darcy argued with Miss Younge while I spent my time in the kitchen. At first, the Younge servants were a suspicious people. But slowly, with some innocent gossip about the Gardiners, they opened up. They weren’t a happy group and thus in the end it was more of directing the conversation. I learned over time who Miss Younge is. And how she became a housekeeper, and … I then hit on asking about men friends and Wickham’s name was mentioned. I mentioned I thought the man had visited the Gardeners and ask for his address to validate. Unfortunately, none of them knew.
The next day I joked with the servants about the “young” Miss and her “beau” and how often they met. I was surprised to learn that no one escorts Miss Younge to Mr. Wickham’s place and that Miss Younge walks there, so it couldn’t be far. I learned later that the footman had once carried some packages for Miss Younge there but had been dismissed at the Drunk Swan Inn as Miss Younge went on alone as “Wicky was just around the corner”.
Said information was passed onto Mr. Darcy that night and I got a half crown in return! The next day, Mr. Darcy gots Miss Younge to given him the exact address of her “Wicky”!
Mrs. Leanne Hill
Well, with Mrs. Have-no-Sense Wickham now departed, I can spend some more time watch over my Lizzy. And watching over is needed as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are back in town. I see Mr. Darcy is having a hard time of it – being shy ain’t easy so one day, when Lizzy is upstairs getting her pelisse for a walk, I ask Mr. Darcy if I could have a word with him in the kitchen. He looks at me queer like but he follows me to that room.
“Excuse me for saying so Mr. Darcy but I wanted to tell you of an old wives’ tales my mother told me when I was young. It’s really rather simple but effective. One only has to do is take a shortbread cookie, eats most of it but let a portion dissolve under your tongue. As soon as the cookie dissolves, one will get a ‘yes’ to the next question one asks.”*
“Would you like a cookie?” I ask as I hold out the tin. He looks at me again hesitantly before saying “I do”. And with that, I know I’ll be hearing more of those exact words in the near future.
*I told my mother this “wives’ tale” the next time I sees her. Her response – “What a bunch of malarkey” and I couldn’t but agree. And yet, one can never argue with success.
Epilog
Mr. Darcy loves his shortbread and he loved his short engagement. We servants were able to attend the wedding as Mr. Darcy invited myself, Mrs. Steward, Mrs. Reynolds and of course Mister James. Mister James says Mr. Darcy winked at them at in the middle of the wedding but I know that ain’t true because he couldn’t take his eyes off Lizzy. He also had troubles remembering where he were given when the pastor said to kiss the bride, we all started chuckling when “the kiss that wouldn’t end” didn’t end.