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Chapter Eleven - Springtime in Derbyshire

Posted on 2011-11-08

Charles Bingley was more than happy to commence their journey by a different route, in order that Elizabeth might pay a brief visit to her acquaintance. They were on tour; all was delightful; and he was happy to go in one way as well as any other.

For a time, Elizabeth was confident that they followed the same route that Mr Darcy's carriage had taken herself and Kitty. But little more than an hour beyond London, she found herself in entirely unfamiliar surroundings, which accorded neither with her recollection of the previous journey, nor with the notes that she had made at the time. Eventually, she was obliged to concede that she was no longer certain of the direction they must take, and so they returned to the main turnpike road northwards.

The three travellers spent a most pleasurable month visiting all the famous beauty spots of the Lakes, before finally bending their way southwards. Now that he was married, Charles Bingley was determined to establish himself in the country; and wished, if at all possible, to find an estate tolerably close to Pemberley. He had engaged an agent in London to identify suitable properties in the vicinity of Derbyshire, which he might inspect, and was hopeful that a letter from the agent awaited him at Pemberley.

Mr Darcy welcomed them warmly, and was a most attentive and charming host. Elizabeth was reminded of his behaviour when she had visited Derbyshire the previous summer, with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. It occurred to her that Pemberley somehow brought out the very best in his character. It was abundantly clear that he wished to please her - and he did so in every way possible, except the one that mattered most - in satisfying her with regard to the young lady she had met in Suffolk. Though they were keenly aware of the mutual preference and the high regard that they each held, the one for the other, whenever they were in each other's company, that mysterious young lady seemed also present.

Spring was in full flourish, and the grounds were exquisite. Georgiana was delighted to be able to share the beauty of the season with Elizabeth and Jane. She took them to all the places she loved best; and all around them was the song of birds, and the delightful music of the river, and a feeling of life bursting forth from the earth with the vigour of the season.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was staying at Pemberley, and Elizabeth found his manners and behaviour as delightful as they had been in Kent, the previous year. Although she had seen him in town, it had been but little. In his company, she found herself able to relax and enjoy that sense of carefree pleasure that the countryside and the season invited; something she was unable to do with his cousin; for with Mr Darcy there was always a tension - and that unspoken third person intruded upon their every conversation.

Upon their arrival, Georgiana had informed Elizabeth and Jane that two additional guests were soon expected. Victoria Barclay had written, informing her that she was planning a journey to Blackpool, to visit a dear friend with whom she had been educated, and would be delighted to pay a brief visit to Pemberley upon her journey northwards, if it was at all convenient.

"As you may imagine," said Georgiana, "I was delighted at the prospect, but naturally I sought my brother's approval before replying. At first, he appeared happy to encourage the scheme; however, when he learned that Miss Barclay was to be escorted by Captain Radford, he began discovering all manner of reasons why it might, perhaps, not be such a propitious time for her to visit."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Your brother's attitude to that gentleman is quite unfathomable."

"Oh, yes, indeed," agreed Georgiana. "Fortunately, Colonel Fitzwilliam was present when I raised the matter. He saw immediately what my brother was about, and challenged him on it. He said that he, himself, was entirely satisfied with the character and conduct of Captain Radford, and that it was absurd that I should be denied the company of Miss Barclay on account of his nonsensical prejudices. My brother, finding himself unable to advance a single rational reason for his objection, was obliged to yield in the matter."

Elizabeth smiled. "It was fortunate, indeed, that your cousin was present, for I suspect that you are not the only person at Pemberley whom he would be loath to see denied the pleasure of a visit from Miss Barclay. But perhaps his presence was more than merely a fortunate coincidence?"

Georgiana smiled shyly. "I was in little doubt that my brother would not be pleased to receive a visit from Captain Radford; and I have suspected for some time that my cousin is an admirer of Miss Barclay, and might be depended upon to support the visit. Though I would never be brave enough to speak against my brother's opinions, my cousin has no such reticence; so I made certain that he was present when the matter of the visit was discussed."

"You were very clever, Georgiana," said Elizabeth approvingly.

"Please do not think that I would normally behave in so artful a manner - most especially with my brother - it is very probably the first time. In general, he is eager to please me, and our wishes are almost always in accord. For example, I received a letter from Caroline Bingley last week, full of affection and praise - both for myself and for Pemberley. She informed me that she and the Hursts would be delighted to visit us at any time that was convenient. I do not wish for them to visit, for they are no particular friends of mine, and I have learned to distrust Miss Bingley."

"Most wise," said Elizabeth, "if ever there was a lady worthy of distrust, it is she."

"I showed the letter to my brother and asked him if I was obliged to invite them; and it was obvious that he was no more eager for such a visit than myself. But I must reply to her. What am I to say?"

"Simply write that at present you are expecting visits from a number of friends, and that Mr Darcy will very likely be equally engaged over the summer," said Elizabeth. "You need make no apology."

"Thank you," said Georgiana. "I hope that she will not persist in continuing to write me insincere letters, begging for an invitation."

"If she does, simply continue to politely decline her," said Jane. "Unfortunately, when Bingley and I have found a place to settle, we will be obliged to suffer her visits from time to time; but you may be sure that I shall put her off, as often as I am reasonably able."

"That should not be particularly difficult, Jane; all you need do is inform her that I shall very likely be staying with you," said Elizabeth with a satirical smile. "And if I am known to be otherwise engaged, then you might inform her that you expect a visit from Captain Radford - who would perform the office equally well."

A day or two after their arrival, Elizabeth was sitting outside in the garden, enjoying a book from the Pemberley library when she was approached by Mr Darcy.

"I am sorry to disturb your reading on this lovely afternoon, Miss Bennet; may I beg a moment of your time?"

"Certainly," she replied, putting down her book.

Mr Darcy sat on the bench beside her. "You are probably aware that Miss Barclay and Captain Radford arrive tomorrow to stay some days with us."

"Yes, I am greatly looking forward to seeing them again - but perhaps you are not able to express the same sentiment - at least not in so far as the gentleman is concerned?"

Mr Darcy sighed. "You are well aware of my concerns regarding that gentleman and my sister. I must say, I find it most surprising that they should be travelling together - for they are not, after all, related."

"I understand that Captain Radford escorts Miss Barclay at the express wish of the Admiral, who treats him almost as a son. Indeed, from my observation, the relationship between Miss Barclay and Captain Radford, who have known each other since they were young, is very much one of sister and brother."

"While they may, to all intents and purposes consider themselves brother and sister, in the eyes of the world, they are not related. Still, if her father is not concerned at how it might appear to others, then it is really no concern of mine."

"I think it is evident from the arrangements in his own household, that the Admiral cares very little for the opinion of others," said Elizabeth, referring to Madame Lasalle.

"Yes, it would certainly seem so. Miss Bennet, do you think it at all possible that Miss Barclay has perhaps contrived to have Captain Radford accompany her for the purpose of introducing him to her friend in Blackpool? It has been my observation that ladies seem to delight in such match-making,"

"It would seem that it is you, Mr Darcy, who is hopeful of such a match - or perhaps a match between Captain Radford and any young lady - other than your sister - would suffice?"

"No, not any young lady," said Mr Darcy, looking at her intently.

Elizabeth blushed, for his meaning was obvious. "I am afraid that I shall have to disappoint you regarding your present hopes."

"Oh?" he exclaimed, alarmed at what might be her meaning.

"I speak of your hopes for Captain Radford," she said with a smile. "I understand that he has no intention of staying at Blackpool with Miss Barclay and her friend; after escorting her to her destination, he returns immediately to town."

"Oh, I see," said Mr Darcy, evidently disappointed that Captain Radford was not to be so providentially disposed of. "I am aware that you do not share my concerns regarding Captain Radford and my sister; however that shall not prevent me from requesting a service of you. You will agree, I hope, that whatever may be your own opinions of the gentleman, that as her brother and guardian, and above all, the person in the world who cares the most for my sister, that I have some right to have my opinions considered."

"Indeed, I do agree."

"In that case, I wish you to do everything in your power to ensure that nothing of a romantic nature should arise between my sister and Captain Radford; and, that should you suspect such a thing, you will inform me. My sister is far more likely to confide in you than in myself; and your penetration into such matters is very probably far more acute than my own. Should such an unwanted development arise, you will very likely notice it long before I do."

"I consider any development, such as you describe as being highly improbable. However, I will be happy to do as you ask. I should not like to see Miss Darcy hurt; and should she and the Captain form an attachment, that would most certainly be the result; for it is most evident that you would deny her permission to marry him."

"Indeed I would. I thank you most sincerely, Miss Bennet, for your assistance in this matter, it is greatly appreciated."

Bingley was initially disappointed when the anticipated letter from his London agent was not awaiting him at Pemberley. However, the agent did not fail him, for it arrived not many days after themselves, and identified several potentially suitable properties.

"I have a very good collection of maps of the local area in the library," said Mr Darcy. "Perhaps we may be able find where these properties are situated and so form an opinion on their desirability."

Bingley, Jane, and Elizabeth accompanied him to the library, where they spent some time poring over maps. From his local knowledge, Mr Darcy considered several of them to be in less than desirable locations; on account of soil, climate, or the reputation of the neighbourhood and local society. There were two, however, both of them within a dozen or so miles of Pemberley, that looked most promising.

A plan was formed to visit the first estate, which was located at Ashbourne, the following day. Bingley was naturally anxious to have Darcy join them, for he could not contemplate such an important purchase without hearing his opinion. Colonel Fitzwilliam was happy to be of the party, and eager of the opportunity for a good ride. However, Victoria Barclay and Captain Radford, who had just arrived, were not enthusiastic at the prospect of further travel, and Georgiana preferred to remain with her guests.

Elizabeth was immediately alive to the dilemma this presented to Mr Darcy: He was loath to leave his sister with Captain Radford, despite the presence of Miss Barclay, whom, he feared might oblige her friend, should he hint at wishing for an opportunity of being alone with Georgiana. "Miss Bennet," he said softly, so that only she might hear, "do I ask too much of you, if I request that you remain behind tomorrow to keep my sister company?"

Elizabeth had been looking forward to the excursion, but she was well aware how much Bingley relied upon the judgement of his friend, and so she acceded to his request. She spent a most enjoyable day accompanying Georgiana in conducting a tour for her two new guests of the beautiful gardens and all the delightful places beside the river. Should he ask her, Elizabeth would be able to reassure Mr Darcy, that his sister was entirely safe from the imagined matrimonial designs of Captain Radford.

When the party returned from Ashbourne in the afternoon, the opinion was unanimous that it was an exceedingly charming estate. The park was somewhat smaller than at Pemberley; and, if the gardens, too, were not quite so extensive, they were equally beautiful; with a delightful stream running through them, in which, to Bingley's joy, they observed many fish. The house was handsome, and of exactly the right size. Although they did not yet know the asking price, Mr Darcy guessed that it was unlikely to exceed his friend's means. Jane spoke enthusiastically; everything she had seen had been to her liking. The house was lovely, and the rooms were all of a good size. Bingley was so eager to have it, that he contemplated not even troubling to look at the other estate; but rather, returning straight away to London to begin making the purchase arrangements.

Mr Darcy advised his friend that one or two days would make no material difference, and that he might as well view the other estate the following day. "There is a river of some note and local fame, which runs through it," he said. "Let us all go together, and make a picnic of it."

And so they set off the following morning for Hartington, which was in the direction of Buxton. When they entered the gates, they were immediately impressed with the beauty of the park and the charming rolling hills, the higher reaches of which were cloaked in ancient stands of forest. It was evidently a considerable estate, for it took some time before the house came into view; and when it did, it made a stunning picture, against the backdrop of a forested hill; while before it, the gardens sloped down to the delightful tree-lined river.

Upon inspecting the house, the party were equally impressed, and every opinion was favourable. In size and grandeur, it was the equal of Pemberley. "I suspect it will be beyond my means," said Bingley, as they later sat beside the lovely river, enjoying their picnic.

"It is certain to be the case," agreed Mr Darcy. "To purchase an estate such as this would require two or three times the amount of the one that we viewed yesterday."

Bingley was little concerned. "I shall enquire what is its price, simply out of interest; and be perfectly happy to purchase Ashbourne, which is everything I ever dreamed of, and offers all I could possibly wish for. And if I feel in need of grander surroundings, or I manage to fish out my own stream, then I shall visit Pemberley."

They returned at an early enough hour to permit the gentlemen to engage in some fishing, which was principally at the behest of Charles Bingley, who greatly enjoyed the sport. He was perhaps imagining the felicity of possessing his own stream at Ashbourne, where he might indulge his taste for his favourite pastime as often as he wished.

Georgiana served the ladies tea, and lamented that they would all depart the following day. Victoria Barclay was to carry on to Blackpool; while Jane would return to London with her husband, who was most eager to transact the business of purchasing Ashbourne. Their journey would take them through Hertfordshire, where Elizabeth was to remain, until Jane and Bingley had established themselves in their new home.

"Do not be sad, Georgiana," said Jane encouragingly, "Bingley and I have hopes of being settled at Ashbourne as soon as may be."

"It will be delightful," said Elizabeth, to her sister, "that you shall be so close to Pemberley, for it is a tolerably easy distance to drive for visits, dinner parties or other amusements."

"Yes, and you are to live with us, Lizzy; for as long as you wish."

Elizabeth blushed, for the eyes of both Georgiana and Victoria Barclay were upon her; for there was, in both their minds, an expectation that Elizabeth might soon be living at Pemberley - as its mistress, rather than at Ashbourne, as a guest. Only Jane was aware of the material impediment that seemed destined to prevent an expectation that was shared by so many, from reaching fruition.

This recollection served to remind Elizabeth that she had need of visiting the library; and excusing herself to search for a book of poetry from Mr Darcy's excellent collection, she left the other three ladies to talk of dinner parties and all the other delightful amusements that would soon be enjoyed at Pemberley and Ashbourne.

Upon gaining the library, Elizabeth went straight away to the shelves where Mr Darcy kept his maps. Most were of the local district around Pemberley, or the neighbouring counties. There were also maps of London, and one of Kent. Finally she found what she was looking for - and had half expected she might find - a map of Suffolk. She took it to a table beside a large window that she might examine it carefully, in the hope of identifying the place where she had visited Lydia.

Elizabeth smiled; she had no difficulty in finding it, for someone had circled the very spot. It was located at a place by the name of Freston, beside the River Orwell, along which she had walked - and where she had encountered the mysterious young lady. Elizabeth took a pen and paper and drew a map detailing how it might be reached from the turnpike road. It was a little out of their way, and would require them to make a small detour to the east. It looked to be as close to Longbourn as it was to London, so there should be time to visit, and still arrive at Longbourn on the second evening of their journey, where Jane and Bingley would stay overnight, before carrying on to London.

Chapter Twelve - More of the Mysterious Lady

Posted on 2011-11-08

Jane felt unhappy at again deceiving her husband regarding the identity of the lady whom they wished to visit; and Elizabeth agreed that he might be informed as soon as they had departed Pemberley, and there was no longer a possibility of Mr Darcy learning of their intentions, and attempting either to prevent the visit, or to alert the young lady, that she might avoid them. When Bingley learned that it was Lydia, whom they wished to visit, he was not in the least bit perturbed that they had wished to avoid making mention of his wife's youngest sister on their previous attempt to find the place; for he understood it to be a subject of some delicacy.

When they reached Freston, Elizabeth had no difficulty in finding the house. Bingley, who seemed more than willing to remain without, was happy to drop them at the gate and, at Elizabeth's suggestion, carry on along the road beside the river towards the sea, which was not so very far away, where there would likely be some fine views to be had. It was arranged that he should return in half an hour and await them outside the gate.

Elizabeth hoped that on account of the high boundary hedge that ran all the way along the road, the occupants would not hear the noise of the carriage, or notice it stopping for her and Jane to alight; for she wished to surprise them, and deny the young lady, who was the true object of their visit, the opportunity of hiding herself.

Elizabeth and Jane walked quietly up the path and knocked upon the front door. When the servant opened it, Elizabeth said, "Please inform Miss Bennet that two of her sisters are come to visit." Elizabeth and Jane followed hard on the heels of the servant, and entered the sitting room immediately upon being announced. Lydia and the other young lady sat together with the housekeeper; all three of them industriously sewing clothes, which appeared intended for Lydia's baby. From her appearance, it was evidently due any day. All three were utterly startled to see them.

The housekeeper, Mrs Harrison, recovered the most quickly. Dropping her sewing into a bag and jumping to her feet, she gave a meaningful glance to the young lady, who did likewise. Another glance was exchanged between them, prompting the young lady to curtsy briefly to Elizabeth and Jane, and wordlessly exit the room. Looking up the hallway, Elizabeth saw her take a coat from a hook, and a book from a small table, before disappearing out the front door.

"Please excuse the young lady, she was... just visiting your sister... she is somewhat shy of strangers," said the housekeeper. "I shall arrange to have tea served," she said brusquely, before leaving the room.

"I shall try to find her, Jane, while you two talk," said Elizabeth, walking quickly outside. Recalling that the young lady wore only light shoes, and that in her rush to escape them, she had not changed into boots, Elizabeth guessed that she would very likely stay within the confines of the garden, and nor would she stray very far from the paths. Rather than walk on the path herself, Elizabeth chose to tread silently upon the grassy verge, hoping to surprise her quarry.

For a long time, she searched in vain - either the young lady was not in the garden, or she had hidden herself out of the way. Looking around, Elizabeth noticed what appeared to be a garden shed in one corner, surrounded by a high stone wall, probably designed to protect the young plants that were grown within. Approaching quietly, she threw open the high wooden gate to gain entrance, and there, sitting upon a rough bench against the wall, was the young lady, reading her book in the sunshine. She immediately jumped to her feet.

Elizabeth shut the gate behind her and bolted it, but remained standing before it, for it was the only means of exit. "I am Elizabeth Bennet; Lydia's sister. We met once before, some three months ago; you were painting down by the river. Do you remember?"

The young lady said nothing; she appeared anxious and uncertain.

"May I know your name? I mean you no harm; please trust me."

"Julia."

Taking a step forward, Elizabeth said, "Julia, I know that you live in the house with Lydia; I guessed as much upon my first visit. Will you sit and talk with me a while?"

Julia hesitantly sat down; and Elizabeth joined her on the wooden bench.

"Why do you think I live here?"

"Oh, there are many hints that two young ladies live in the house; but it was the pictures hanging in the sitting room which gave you away. You paint beautifully; and your style is very particular - I observed it both in those pictures and also the one you were painting beside the river that day."

"You are clever."

"I also guessed that you were already living in this house when my sister, Lydia, arrived. How long have you lived here, Julia?"

She shook her head, but said nothing.

"I suppose Mr Darcy set this household up especially for you?"

Julia remained silent.

"Or perhaps it was already here? Perhaps you were not the first young lady to occupy it - and, perhaps, neither will you be the last," added Elizabeth, hoping to provoke Julia to speak. But still she appeared determined to remain silent. "It cannot be very pleasant for a young lady to be sequestered all alone like this. Do you not think it unkind of Mr Darcy?"

"He is the kindest of gentlemen," said Julia. Then, looking up at Elizabeth curiously, she asked, "Are you acquainted with him?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I am. In fact I would say that I am very well acquainted with the gentleman." She hoped that this last statement, which was intended to clearly infer an order of intimacy greater than mere acquaintance, would elicit a response from the young lady, whom she was now quite certain must be his mistress; but she was evidently determined not to betray her feelings.

"Do you love him?" demanded Elizabeth.

"Yes, of course," replied Julia, without hesitation.

"And do you believe that he loves you?"

"Yes," replied Julia, in a voice which conceded not the smallest doubt. Then to Elizabeth's surprise, she asked, "and do you, also, love him?"

Elizabeth looked away from her penetrating gaze.

"And does he love you, do you think?" asked Julia.

"That is a question which would be better asked of the gentleman, himself," replied Elizabeth. She was surprised at Julia's candour and total lack of artifice; and her unquestioning confidence in Mr Darcy's affection. Though she evidently suspected that an affection existed between herself and Mr Darcy, it appeared not to surprise her.

"Do you believe that he wishes to marry you?" asked Julia.

"Again, that is a question you would best ask Mr Darcy." Elizabeth found her directness disconcerting; and her placid acceptance of her situation surprised her. If Julia loved him, as she said she did, how could she speak so calmly of him loving, and, perhaps wishing to marry herself? She supposed that such an unhappy prospect was simply the burden of a mistress - to see the man she loved marry another - a respectable lady, with whom he might go into society, and who would bear his children. It was, after all, simply the way of the world.

"Do you think he might wish to marry you?" asked Elizabeth.

Julia shook her head resolutely. "No, that can never be."

Elizabeth sensed a kind of hopelessness in Julia's situation; and despite the fact that she was not only a competitor for Mr Darcy's heart, but also an insurmountable object, that prevented her from accepting his addresses, she could not help but admiring her. Whatever she, herself, might suffer as a result of what seemed to be an insoluble situation; it was evident that Julia suffered far more. Glancing at the book on the bench beside her, she saw it was an anthology of poetry. She was evidently an educated and accomplished lady.

"My sister, Lydia, cannot be much company for you. I imagine you must find it rather lonely here, hidden away and removed from society."

"Yes, I am very often lonely," said Julia with a sad sigh.

Elizabeth was most curious to know what was her background, for she was evidently a lady of some refinement. She also wished to know how, and when, she had met Mr Darcy, and for how long she had been his mistress. These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a carriage on the road, which she guessed must be Mr Bingley, returning for Jane and herself.

Elizabeth rose and bid Julia farewell with a heavy heart. She felt sad on account of the lonely life that seemed to be Julia's inescapable lot; and she felt sad, too, at parting from her. Though she had expected to feel antipathy for this rival, who stood in the way of her own happiness, Elizabeth found herself liking Julia, and she resolved to never do anything that might harm her, or make her life sadder and lonelier than it already was. She would never demand that Mr Darcy give her up - but neither, too, would she ever accept him, unless he did.

Upon returning to the house and entering the sitting room, Elizabeth told Jane that the carriage had returned for them; and they must go.

"I have just been telling Jane how angry Mr Darcy will be when he learns that you have visited me again," said Lydia. "Did you find her?"

"Julia?"

"So you did find her, then, if you have learned her name," observed Lydia. "What else did you learn from her? She was already living here when I arrived, many months ago; yet I know not a thing about her, for she tells me nothing."

"Is it possible, Lydia," asked Jane, "that she, too, might be a past victim of George Wickham, whom Mr Darcy rescued from circumstances similar to your own?"

Lydia laughed and shook her head. "No! Not a victim of Mr Wickham - of Mr Darcy, more like it! And not a past victim, either - a present one, if you take my meaning."

Elizabeth said nothing, for it coincided with what she had herself suspected before today - and was in agreement with everything Julia had revealed. But Jane was less willing to believe it of Mr Darcy, and objected, "But if she does not confide in you, how can you be certain? Does Mr Darcy stay here sometimes?"

"No, he never stays - or at least not since my arrival; however, there are apartments above stairs which remain locked and unused - I suspect that they are his. Mr Darcy visits often, and takes Julia away in his carriage; they are always gone together for many hours. And once I spied them embracing, when they believed themselves to be unobserved."

"We must go," said Elizabeth dispiritedly; wishing, most resolutely, to be gone from that place.

"You have not even asked me how I am, or any of my news," complained Lydia. "All that you came for is to find out about Julia. You must be in love with Mr Darcy, Lizzy, to go to so much trouble!"

"If I had any feelings for him, before today, then they will certainly not have survived what I have learned here. Lydia, we must go now; Mr Bingley has been waiting for quite some time already; Jane will tell me all your news. Please do not get up, it would be most awkward for you," said Elizabeth, bending over to embrace her sister.

Jane did likewise, saying, "And write to us as soon as the baby is born, and tell us everything about it."

They found Bingley had alighted from the carriage and was walking along the river, admiring it. He was happy to see them, and appeared not the least bit put out at having to wait for them. While they were paying their visit, he had made a delightful excursion, following the River Orwell down to the sea. Due to his presence in the carriage, Elizabeth was unable to recount to her sister all that had passed between herself and Julia, and was obliged to wait until later in the day, when Jane came to her room at Longbourn.

Though she was unable to overcome a sense of melancholy following the visit to Freston, Elizabeth was glad to be home again - back in familiar surroundings, and with people and places that were wholly unconnected with Mr Darcy - about whom she did not wish to be reminded. Unluckily for her, having heard Lydia's sad story - first in the letter from Kitty and then later from Kitty herself, and now from Jane, her parents were eager - each in their own way - to speak upon the matter.

Mrs Bennet's views on the subject of Mr Darcy were hardly altered as a result of all these recent revelations; and she utterly refused to believe that he could be innocent of wrongdoing to her poor daughter. "Why would he go to all the trouble and expense of keeping her in a country house," she demanded repeatedly, "if he had not, himself, taken advantage of my poor girl, and fathered her child; after that scoundrel, Wickham, had abandoned her. This story of some mysterious gentleman, whom she will not name, who supposedly took her from where she was lodged with Wickham to some other place, and is the father of her child - why, it is all a fiction - invented, I am certain, by Mr Darcy, to hide his own guilt! And my poor Lydia is obliged to repeat it or he will throw her out! I am certain that is how it must be! My poor, poor girl!"

Though Elizabeth attempted to convince her mother of her certainty that Lydia spoke the truth, she would not be persuaded - she had known that Mr Darcy was the devil incarnate from the moment she had first set eyes on him; and she had been right all along - although no one would listen to her. Eventually, Elizabeth gave up trying to make her mother see reason - for it only provoked her to give expression to her conviction of Mr Darcy's guilt, all the more fervently.

Her father, however, was entirely prepared to believe Lydia's account of her history. Unlike her mother, he did not believe that Mr Darcy's actions, in saving Lydia and taking her to a country house, were in any way an admission of guilt. But he was at a loss to understand why he should have gone to so much trouble and expense.

"Lizzy, come to my library, my dear," he said on the day following her arrival. "I have been racking my brain, searching for some plausible explanation for Mr Darcy's apparently heroic behaviour; and it occurs to me that you may be able to shed some light on the mystery.

"The only explanation I have been able to come up," said Mr Bennet, seating himself comfortably behind his desk, "is that at the time he performed his invaluable service - which is now many months ago - Mr Darcy was in love with one of my daughters. For in such a circumstance, he would very likely wish to save her the pain of seeing a sister further degraded, and descend into a life of poverty, suffering - and worse. Furthermore, if that daughter held a low opinion of him - which would hardly be surprising given the general disapprobation of the man - in the local neighbourhood at least - then such actions must surely serve to overthrow that opinion, and show him in a most favourable light.

"And, if supposing, he were wishing to marry that daughter, then he would very naturally be eager to sequester Lydia away from the eyes of the world, before any further scandalous news - above what was already known, concerning her elopement with Wickham - could attach itself to the lady's family - and by association, to himself. What say you to my reasoning, Lizzy?"

"Certainly it is rational, Papa - and plausible also. And yet it may not be correct."

"Oh, I think it is correct, Lizzy. And can you not guess which of my daughters I am thinking of?"

Elizabeth blushed, and shook her head, silently, refusing to meet her father's gaze.

Mr Bennet laughed. "Well, I would have thought it obvious! His friend Bingley, he must have known, at the time, was apparently determined to marry Jane; thus, the only eligible daughter remaining was yourself! Whatever my other opinions of Mr Darcy, I credit his intelligence sufficiently to be convinced that he could have no such designs upon any of my three youngest daughters, who must be amongst the silliest girls upon whom he has ever set eyes."

Elizabeth attempted to feign surprise that anyone could suspect Mr Darcy of having designs upon herself; for it was a subject which she desperately wished to avoid discussing with her father.

"Had it not been for the wedding ball at Netherfield, I should have said that it was impossible - that I could not imagine two people who disliked each other more than you and Mr Darcy. But, as I recall, Mr Darcy danced with you three times at the ball. Such a remarkable degree of preference leads me to believe that his opinion of you must have been greatly altered; for I cannot imagine that he should have wished to dance with you at all, let alone thrice, unless he found your company pleasing. Which leads me to likewise believe that your opinion of him must also be altered - for no man could find the company of a young lady who dislikes him, agreeable."

Elizabeth was sitting opposite her father, in front of his desk, and felt his inquisitive gaze upon her; what was she to say? "You are correct, father, in your observation from the ball, that Mr Darcy and I no longer hate each other. Indeed, my opinion of him has improved considerably. Furthermore, I can say that I find his company entirely tolerable, and I believe that his opinion of myself has, likewise, improved. Nevertheless, I cannot agree with the reason to which you attribute his noble action in saving Lydia. There is another far more compelling, and entirely rational, explanation."

"I cannot imagine what it might be. Let me hear it, child."

Elizabeth was now obliged to communicate some of the substance of the letter that Mr Darcy had written in Kent. She revealed the whole of the history between Wickham and Darcy - concealing only the identity of Miss Darcy. She simply said that Wickham had attempted to elope with a young lady of Mr Darcy's acquaintance; and that on account of his keeping all the details secret, he blamed himself for Lydia's misfortunes.

"But Lizzy, this all seems most improbable. Why would Mr Darcy consider himself responsible for Wickham's wickedness - or Lydia's stupidity, in eloping with him? And furthermore, everything that happened after Wickham abandoned Lydia can in no way be attributed to his own actions."

"Mr Darcy told me himself, that he believed that it was on account of his mistaken pride, and reluctance to lay open the details which I have just now recounted, that Wickham's true character had not been known to the world. He blames himself for concealing Wickham's history, which, had it been known, would have made it impossible for any young woman to believe or love him."

"Yes, I suppose there is something in that," agreed her father, "for had Wickham's history been known, he would very likely have not been permitted to enlist in the Militia in the first place; and even had he enlisted, Lydia would have been well warned concerning his character, and certainly never allowed into his society; and so she would not have eloped with him, and suffered every other ill which followed."

"Exactly," said Elizabeth.

"Yet, while it is true that had Mr Darcy acted differently, Lydia's elopement, and subsequent misfortunes, would not have occurred, it does not follow that Mr Darcy is to blame for them. Mr Darcy's actions were but one link in a long chain of cause and effect - and in any case, cause does not imply moral responsibility," reasoned Mr Bennet, who was fond of reading books on Philosophy. "I believe that he draws a rather long bow in attributing responsibility to himself, and then going to such a great deal of trouble and expense in saving Lydia. Still, regardless of the philosophical questions it raises, his behaviour deserves our praise and appreciation. Contrary to all the unfavourable reports of his character, it now transpires that Mr Darcy is the most noble of men! I feel quite ashamed of myself for the poor opinion I previously held of him."

A week after her departure for London, a letter arrived from Jane with two pieces of intelligence, each concerning an estate in Derbyshire. The first was the happy news that the acquisition of Ashbourne was completed, and that she and Bingley would depart, within days, for Pemberley; where they would remain until arrangements at Ashbourne were sufficiently advanced for them to take up residence. The second piece of news was so surprising that Elizabeth found herself re-reading her sister's letter several times over.

...You will be astounded to learn that when Bingley made enquiries regarding the estate at Hartington, he discovered that it had been purchased just the day before. His agent assured him that in any case, he would have been unable to purchase it himself, for the price was more than three times that of Ashbourne.

You will doubtless recall the cold incivility with which Caroline Bingley always treated her cousin, and how certain she was that he was determined to marry her for her fortune. You may not be so very surprised to learn that since hearing of his wealth, and his purchase of Hartington, all her opinions of him have undergone a total reversal. She is constantly begging me to invite both herself and her cousin to dinner (while he has hinted politely to Bingley that nothing could give him less pleasure). And of course she has been fawning over me, and speaking of how very fortunate is her brother at having such a wife; and how much she loves me, and how unbearable it will be when we depart London for Ashbourne, and that I must take pity on her and invite her as soon as may be...

When Elizabeth communicated the principal contents of Jane's letter to her mother, Mrs Bennet was momentarily stunned. But her silence was short-lived, and very soon gave way to outrage, "The deceit of that man! Coming into our society and pretending to be so very poor, when he was, in fact, so very rich! Dishonesty is a terrible thing!" said Mrs Bennet shaking her head.

"But Mamma," said Elizabeth, "I never heard him speak once upon the subject of money. It was you who assumed him to be poor, and told it to your every acquaintance, who told it back to you."

"Don't be silly, child, of course he must have said he was poor - I am absolutely certain of it - and even if he did not, he certainly allowed everyone to think it - which is almost the same thing. Why, I recall speaking with him on the subject of those occupations from which he might choose for the purpose of earning his living, and he never once said that he was rich, and in need of none. It is all so very vexing; for had I known he was wealthy I should have advised you to do all in your power to make him fall in love with you, Lizzy; for he will be a great prize for some lady."

Elizabeth considered pointing out that it was very probably to avoid such matrimonial manoeuvres that he chose to keep his wealth secret - and from Mrs Bennet, most especially. But it was evident from the expression upon her mother's face, that there was no need to speak in Captain Radford's defence, for she was entirely recovered from her indignation. Her mother had evidently forgiven him his offence, and adjusted all of her opinions of the gentleman - as a fortune such as his demanded - and was industriously contemplating how to make up for the lost opportunity, and have him for her son.

"You must go to Ashbourne immediately, Lizzy! Did you not say that it is within a dozen miles of the estate that Captain Radford has purchased?"

"It is, Mamma, and I have every intention of going to Ashbourne, just as soon as Jane writes to inform me that they are tolerably well settled there."

"Nonsense, you must go immediately! Now that his wealth is known there is not a minute to lose! Every mother in Derbyshire will be scheming to marry her daughter to him. And then there is that artful Caroline Bingley - she will be after him for sure; for she is nothing but a brazen fortune-hunter; I am certain of it!"

"You may rest assured, Mamma, that I shall be invited to Ashbourne well before Caroline Bingley."

"That is well, for I do not trust her; but there are bound to be other eligible young ladies in the neighbourhood. Did you not say that the properties of Bingley, Captain Radford, and that abominable Mr Darcy, are all within a dozen miles of each other? And does not Mr Darcy have an unmarried sister? Doubtless, she is as disagreeable and arrogant as himself; but you may be certain that Mr Darcy will be inviting the Captain to dine, and doing everything in his power to marry off his sister to so wealthy a man."

Elizabeth had to suppress a laugh at how greatly did her mother's surmise diverge from Mr Darcy's recent attitude to the possibility of just such a match. But then, she reflected, if Mr Darcy's fears regarding his sister and the Captain had been on account of a suspicion that he was a fortune hunter, intent on his sister's thirty thousand pounds, then surely the news of the Captain's wealth must belie those fears.

"Miss Darcy is yet young, Mamma, she is but seventeen years old; and her brother, I believe, is in no great hurry to marry her off to anyone. She has a large fortune herself, so finding a wealthy husband for her is in no way essential."

But Mrs Bennet was not listening to her daughter, so deeply engrossed was she in her scheming. "He danced with you three times at the wedding ball at Netherfield, so he evidently favours you, Lizzy. And did you not say that he danced twice with you at a ball in London?"

Elizabeth felt tempted to ask her mother to whom she was referring, Captain Radford or Mr Darcy? For she had danced the same number of times with each gentleman at the balls to which her mother alluded. But her mother would not be diverted; nor would she wish to be reminded of how she had berated her for dancing so often with Captain Radford at the wedding ball; and how she had persistently discouraged her from being so much in his company - for that was an entirely different gentleman - one without money. It amused her, that her mother did not even think to ask her opinion of Captain Radford - whether she liked him or found him amiable - or, indeed, if she wished to marry him. His fortune must speak for itself, and guarantee an affirmative answer in every case.

"You are presently in an excellent position, but you must be careful not to lose your advantage! Derbyshire must be full of designing young ladies - and their ambitious mothers! You must go immediately - there is not a moment to be lost!"

"Mamma, we do not even know if Captain Radford is gone to Derbyshire; he might well be yet in London; and Jane will need some weeks to engage servants and arrange her house before she is ready to receive guests. I shall wait until she writes to ask me to come. And tomorrow my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, and all my darling little cousins, arrive at Longbourn to spend a fortnight with us. I shall certainly wait until after they have departed."

"Lizzy, I despair of you! What matters your aunt and uncle and cousins, girl? You are a foolish child, who will not take the important things in life seriously. Heaven knows, I do my very best for you - but you will not listen! And there is little point in asking your father to set you straight - and send you immediately to Derbyshire - for he understands nothing of such matters, and in any case, he always takes your side against mine. If you end up an old maid or married to a man without means, and must endure a life of poverty, do not blame me!"

Chapter Thirteen - An Unexpected Reunion

Posted on 2011-11-11

Elizabeth was delighted at the arrival of her aunt and uncle, and their children. Ever since she and Jane had grown older, they had learned to confide in their Aunt Gardiner, and seek her advice when they were in want of guidance from a sensible older lady, for they were well aware that their own mother was entirely unsuited to the office. And their aunt, who loved them both, had watched her two eldest nieces blossom into intelligent and charming young ladies with delight, and was always most interested to hear of their affairs.

When she was in London, Elizabeth had seen much of her aunt, and had shared all the interesting details of her many acquaintances; and although she had written from Pemberley, there was much to recount and speak of. Her aunt knew of the visit she and Kitty had paid to Lydia, but Elizabeth had not made mention of her encounter with Julia beside the river; and her aunt knew nothing of her recent visit to Freston with Jane.

"I hope you will excuse me, Lizzy," said Mrs Gardiner one day as they were strolling together in the garden, "if I am so presumptuous as to tell you that when we were in Derbyshire last summer, it seemed to both your uncle and myself, that Mr Darcy was very much in love with you; and from what you have told me of him dancing three times with you at Jane's wedding ball, and then twice at the ball he held in London for his sister - including the first set - and his continued attentions when you were recently in Derbyshire, my suspicions of a very strong preference are confirmed. The only thing I find surprising is that he has not yet paid you his addresses. If he cannot see that you return his affections, then the man is blind! Excuse me for saying it, Lizzy, but it is most clear to me that you, too, are in love."

Elizabeth sat down on a bench and, to her aunt's great surprise, began to cry. Sitting beside her and putting a comforting arm around her, Mrs Gardiner asked gently, "What is the matter, child, what has happened?"

Elizabeth spoke of her encounter with Julia, on her first visit to Freston with Kitty; and of her subsequent visit with Jane, on their return journey from Derbyshire. She faithfully repeated her conversation with Julia, and also Lydia's report of her going off with Mr Darcy in his carriage, and observing them embracing.

She was eager to hear her aunt's opinion. "Can there be any explanation other than that she is his mistress?"

"It is difficult to imagine any other," agreed her aunt.

"The reason Mr Darcy does not ask me to marry him, is that I have been explicit that I would never marry a man who keeps a mistress. I know that many wives would simply ignore such a thing, and act as if it were something that only existed in a dream - that was in no way a part of their life - and was of no consequence whatsoever. It would never be spoken of between them. But I could never be happy with such a husband. Am I wrong to refuse to accept such an arrangement?"

"No, my dear, you are entirely right; you could neither be happy, nor make him happy in such a situation. Have you thought to say to him that if he wishes to marry you, he must give up his mistress - and promise you never to again see her, or take another?"

"Yes, before the second visit I did consider it; but when I thought of the young lady I had seen beside the river, and imagined her being thrown out, at my behest, and perhaps falling into such terrible circumstances as those from which Lydia was rescued, I hesitated. And then when I met Julia, again, and became somewhat acquainted with her, and saw how she loved him, I doubted that I could ever demand that he give her up."

"How old is Julia?" asked Mrs Gardiner.

"I should say she must be around one or two and twenty; about the same age as myself."

"And there was a housekeeper, you said, a Mrs Harrison, who was sitting, sewing, together with Lydia and Julia when you and Jane entered the sitting room; and she gave Julia a glance - who then immediately left the house. It is strange behaviour for a housekeeper, is it not?"

"Yes, I agree, it is," said Elizabeth. "It occurred to me at the time, but I dismissed it as being of no importance. I remember now that on my first visit, when Lydia asked Mrs Harrison to serve tea, she did it in so awkward a manner that it seemed to me that she was not used to treating her as a servant. Do you think, perhaps, it can be some kind of boarding house for young ladies in Lydia's circumstances, or one where a gentleman may keep his mistress out of the way? Perhaps Mrs Harrison is the owner of the property, or at least its manager. That would accord far better with the authority I observed in her behaviour, than her being simply the housekeeper."

"Yes, it would. How old is she?"

"A year or two above forty, I should think; and yet she is still a very handsome lady. She must have been quite a beauty in her youth."

"How long did it take you to reach Longbourn from there?"

"From Freston? About three or four hours, I should say."

"I think I should like to visit my niece, and see how she gets on," said her aunt.

"You wish me to take you to Freston? When?"

"Why not tomorrow? Mr Gardiner is engaged to fish with your father, so I may have the use of the carriage. Anna, my nursery maid, can look after the children. We shall leave after breakfast. Of course, I shall inform Mr Gardiner as to where we go, but as for the others, they may think that I simply wish to make a tour of the neighbourhood - otherwise your mother would most certainly wish to join us, and that would not suit my purpose."

When they reached Freston, the following day, Elizabeth and her aunt alighted from the carriage at some distance from the gate, and the coachman was instructed to await them there. They walked quietly to the gate and then up the path. When the servant opened the front door, Elizabeth said, "Please inform Miss Bennet that her sister and Aunt Gardiner are come to visit." They followed closely behind the servant and entered the sitting room immediately they had been announced.

Lydia sat cradling a tiny infant in her arms; and, together with Julia and the housekeeper, she was astonished to see them.

"Lydia!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Why did you not write to say that the baby was born? Are you well? Is your baby well? Is it a boy or a girl?"

Lydia smiled proudly and held her baby up for Elizabeth to take. "It is a darling little girl, and I have named her Susan. She was born just a week ago and we are both very well, as you can see."

"You look well, Lydia," said her aunt, "and little Susan is lovely," she said, taking the baby from Elizabeth.

"I am glad you have come," said Lydia, "for it will save me all the trouble of writing to my mamma, and telling her the news. You may say that I am very well, and tell her all about my lovely little Susan. But now you must excuse me, for I must take her upstairs to be fed and put to bed."

Elizabeth watched her sister, who looked a picture of health and happiness, as she took little Susan back from their aunt and left the room. When she turned back to her aunt, she saw her staring thoughtfully, and with great deliberation, not at Julia, but at Mrs Harrison; who, clearly wishing to escape further scrutiny, rose to her feet. "Excuse me," she said, "I shall arrange refreshments for you." Then turning to Julia, who appeared confused as to what she must do, she said, "Miss Julia, I believe you are expected at your friend's house. Were you not planning to wait on her?"

But before Julia had arisen, Mrs Gardiner surprised them all by saying. "I would prefer you stay a few minutes, if you will, Julia; and you too, Mrs Harrison."

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Mrs Harrison.

"Please be seated," said Mrs Gardiner, politely, but forcefully, as she sat herself down on a sofa and indicated to Elizabeth to join her.

Mrs Harrison reluctantly resumed her seat. "I would be most obliged to you, Madam, if you would explain what this is all about."

To the amazement of the other three ladies, Mrs Gardiner replied, "Do you not recognise me?"

The face of the other lady became most serious, indeed, as she studied the face of her interlocutor, shaking her head.

"Perhaps twenty-two years is rather a long time, Miss Catherine Norton," said Mrs Gardiner.

Mrs Harrison appeared momentarily shaken at hearing herself thus addressed, but recovering herself, she said, "That is not my name, and I have not the least idea who you are, Madam. The servant announced you as Mrs Gardiner, a name with which I am completely unfamiliar."

"Of course, for that is my married name. But before I was married, my name was Jane Elliot. I am quite certain you must recall it, for you repeated it every morning when you read out the roll at the Lambton School for young ladies. And I replied, 'Present, Miss Norton'".

Mrs Harrison gasped, one hand covering her mouth, as she stared back in horror at Mrs Gardiner.

"Then one day, twenty-two years ago, with not the slightest warning, we found ourselves without a teacher. Eventually another lady was found to teach us, and we were told that Miss Norton was gone as a governess, to Scotland. I was an innocent girl of fifteen, and I simply accepted that it must be true; although I recall that your younger sister, Mary, who was my closest friend, was always embarrassed, if ever I spoke of you, or asked to where in Scotland you were gone, or how you liked being a governess.

"Last summer, I had the great pleasure of making a tour of Derbyshire, from whence my family departed, not long after I finished my schooling. Naturally, I was eager to search for old acquaintances of my girlhood days; an endeavour in which I met with some success. One of my former friends, with whom I was pleased to renew my acquaintance was your sister, Mary, who you will be happy to hear, is well-married to an attorney in Lambton and has three delightful children. We had a wonderful time talking about our girlhood days, and of our friends, and what had become of them all.

"I was most curious to know about my former teacher, Miss Norton, for I was now older and wiser in the ways of the world, and the story that had been circulated at the time of her disappearance no longer satisfied me. Your sister confessed that, indeed, it was but an invention, put about to cover up a great scandal. For what could be more disgraceful than a school teacher, the daughter of a vicar, having an illicit liaison with a gentleman, and expecting his child?

"No!" exclaimed Mrs Harrison, more in shock at the revelation, than denial.

Elizabeth, too, was stunned.

"Rather than going to Scotland as a governess, the gentleman who fathered your child removed you from Derbyshire to avoid a scandal, and to protect his name. He purchased this property, where you and your child have lived and been supported ever since. Is it not so, Miss Norton?"

"Please, please, do not call me by that name," she begged, burying her face in her handkerchief. Then looking up woefully she asked, "Did my sister tell you the gentleman's name?"

"Of course - it was Mr Darcy."

Mrs Harrison began crying in earnest; and her former student came to sit beside her on the couch and attempted to comfort her. Turning to Elizabeth, Mrs Gardiner said, "Perhaps you young ladies might like to walk in the garden?"

Elizabeth was in a state of shock, and it was not until Julia stood and looked at her expectantly, that she was able to gather her wits, and rising unsteadily to her feet, she followed Julia outside.

Finally, she managed to say, "Then you are the sister of Mr Darcy?"

"Yes, his half-sister."

Elizabeth stopped and took Julia's hands, staring into her face, looking for some resemblance to Mr Darcy or Georgiana. Eventually she said, "I can see something of your brother, in your eyes and mouth."

"Do you know his face well?" asked Julia, with a shy smile.

"Yes, yes," said Elizabeth, "and I am so happy to learn that you are his sister, and not his..."

"Mistress," said Julia.

"Yes!" said Elizabeth, embracing Julia as if she were her own long-lost sister.

"Let us sit down," said Elizabeth, leading Julia to a bench in the sunshine, "for I wish to hear everything about you; about your whole life, if you do not mind to tell it."

"I do not mind, but there is very little to tell, for I have led such a sheltered and uneventful existence."

"Did you ever meet your father?" asked Elizabeth.

"Oh yes, he visited every year in the winter, when he was in town; and in his later years, following the death of his wife, Lady Anne, he was able to come more often. But I have learned not to think of him as my father, for he did not wish it."

"Did he refuse to recognise you as his daughter?" asked Elizabeth.

"No, not exactly. I remember, since I was very young, him coming to visit my mother each year; he was always very kind to me, bringing me small gifts, and wishing to hear me sing or play, or to admire my drawing books. My mother told me to simply call him 'sir'. At first I did not know he was my father."

"Your mother did not tell you?"

"No. But when I began reading books, I soon understood that a child must have a father; and I asked my mother who was my father, and where did he live; but she would only say that she would tell me when I was older. When I was six or seven, after one of his visits, I guessed that he must be my father; and when I asked my mother, she said yes, he was my father, but I should never address him as such."

"It must have been awful for you, knowing he was your father, but having to act as if he was not," said Elizabeth.

"I believe he treated me like a daughter - albeit one whom he rarely saw - with true affection and love. He provided for my every need; and when my mother, who, as you have heard, was a school teacher, had taught me everything she knew, he arranged for masters to visit and teach me - I had the very best music and art teachers that any young lady could wish for."

"You had the benefit of a much better education than I, or my sisters," observed Elizabeth. "In that regard, at least, you had all the advantages that would have been yours, had you lived at Pemberley."

"Yes, it is true. But while my father was able to ensure that I had every advantage and material comfort I could wish for, he felt guilty, I believe. He greatly regretted that he could never give me a normal, happy life, with friends and family; for I could never go out into society without the stigma of illegitimacy attaching itself to me. He was, I believe,
afraid that the secret of my existence might somehow become known to the world, and bring him shame. That is why he did not wish to have me think of him as my father, because our true relationship could never be acknowledged in the world."

"How very sad," said Elizabeth, wiping away a tear and squeezing Julia's hand. "When did you first meet your brother?"

"I knew nothing of his existence until I was fourteen years old, when our father died. For neither my mother nor my father ever told me that I had a half-sister and half-brother. I remember discovering the name Darcy on a letter, which arrived for my mother; for no one ever told me my father's name, or where he lived, or anything of that nature."

"It must have been very difficult growing up like that. Did your mother never tell you anything of her past, of her own family?" asked Elizabeth.

Julia shook her head. "She was a good mother; kind and entirely devoted to me, but she would tell me none of those things. Today, when Mrs Gardiner spoke of it, was the very first time that I ever heard my mother's real name, or knew that she was from Lambton, or that I have an aunt living there. Whenever I asked, she would always say that she would tell me when I was older. Eventually I stopped asking those questions, for I realised that my mother felt great shame concerning what had happened, and perhaps, like my father, she felt guilty for the lonely life, which must inevitably be mine."

"What happened when your father died? Is that when you first met your brother, the present Mr Darcy?"

"Yes. My mother received a letter from him, informing her that his father had passed away, and that he had been entrusted with providing for us. I remember how my mother cried a great deal at the news; I suppose she must have loved my father very much. I, too, was sad, because he had always been so kind to me; even though I was never permitted to become close to him, or think of him as a father. My mother was anxious, and worried about what would become of us, for she was afraid that the son would be less willing than his father to support us.

"I can remember the first time he came; it was not long after my father's death. I was but fourteen, and my brother must have been one and twenty. It was the happiest day of my life. He immediately laid all mother's fears to rest, and promised that he would continue to maintain our establishment, and make provision for the support of us both, for all of our lives."

"That was most generous," said Elizabeth.

"Oh, yes. And do you know that he, himself, had known nothing of my existence - or of my mother's, or of this house - until just before our father died, when it was all revealed to him. He was as delighted to discover that he had a half-sister as was I, to have a half-brother. And most surprisingly, he wished to treat me as his sister, and for me to think of him as my brother. He straight away understood how lonely was my life here; and over the years, he has done everything in his power to try to make me happy."

"That is most kind," said Elizabeth, "and yet I would expect nothing less of him. Nevertheless, it would seem that there is little he can do to remedy your principal affliction, of isolation and loneliness."

"No. Except to visit me often, which he does - far more often, than did his father. And he always brings me books and the latest musical scores, and the finest painting materials; and he takes me on long drives in the countryside. In summer, we have picnics, and walk along the seashore together. Before your sister, Lydia, came, he would often come for longer visits and stay for several days - but now it is no longer possible. Miss Bennet, please keep your discovery a secret - even from your sister, Lydia. No one but your aunt and yourself must ever know the truth about me."

"Your secret is safe with me, Julia; I shall tell one other person, only; my elder sister Jane - who you briefly saw on my previous visit - for we are very close and always share our confidences."

"You are very lucky to have such a sister; I am so envious," said Julia. "How wonderful it would be, to have a sister with whom I could share all my feelings, and hopes, and fears, and desires."

"But surely you know that you have a sister - Georgiana," said Elizabeth.

"Oh yes, I know all about her; how accomplished she is at the pianoforte, and how beautifully she sings, and what a charming young lady she is. My brother has told me everything; but his promise to his father prevents him from ever mentioning my existence to her. I have the most adorable younger sister, it seems, but I shall never know her," said Julia sadly.

"You cannot blame Mr Darcy; he is a most honourable man, and I am certain that nothing could make him break a vow given to his father."

"Yes, he has no choice in the matter. Before he died, his father made him promise to keep my existence secret from the world. Even in death, he feared for his reputation, and that his most shameful secret should ever be known."

"But it would be difficult for you, also," observed Elizabeth. "The stigma of illegitimacy would make it difficult for you to appear in society, if the circumstances of your birth were known."

"And no gentleman would ever wish to marry me," said Julia sadly.

"Of that, I am not entirely certain," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "You are so very beautiful, Julia, and pleasing in every way. Just imagine that a young man was to fall in love with you, and then afterwards become aware of your parentage?"

"He would feel angry at having been tricked, and wish to have nothing more to do with me," said Julia, shaking her head vehemently.

"Most gentlemen might very probably behave in such a manner," said Elizabeth, "but perhaps not all. But even were you never to marry, that does not mean that you must spend your whole life shut away from the world - it is too horrible to contemplate," said Elizabeth passionately.

"My brother and I have sometimes speculated on how it might be possible for me to enter society; and we have always arrived at the same unhappy conclusion - that it is not possible, without the shame of my birth being attached to me, and the secret of our father's part in it, which my brother is sworn to keep, becoming known to the world. I have long ago come to accept the lonely life that lies before me. Just like my poor mamma, I am doomed to spend the rest of my days in this lovely, gilded cage."

"Leave me to think on it, Julia, and do not give up hope. In another week or two, I go to stay with my sister, Jane, and her husband at Ashbourne, in Derbyshire, where I am certain to meet with your brother. I shall speak with him on these matters, and see if we cannot devise a plan. If you should write to him, it might be best if you do not mention my visit today, or the previous one."

Not many days after the departure of the Gardiners from Longbourn, a letter arrived from Jane to inform Elizabeth that although there was still much to be done at Ashbourne, they were well enough on their way to establishing themselves there as to be ready to receive her. Bingley would send a servant the following week to accompany Elizabeth on the journey.

Mrs Bennet was naturally delighted at the news, and wasted no opportunity in advising Elizabeth to secure Captain Radford as soon as may be. When she was not thus engaged in exhorting her daughter to act speedily, before some other unworthy young lady beat her to the prize, she was contemplating just how rich her second daughter would be - how many carriages and servants she would have, and all the jewellery and pin money that would be hers.

But instead of Bingley's servant coming on the appointed day, a carriage, which Elizabeth immediately recognised as belonging to Mr Darcy, arrived at Longbourn. The coachman handed Elizabeth a note from Jane, explaining that on account of not yet having secured the services of all the servants they wished to engage, Bingley had asked Mr Darcy if he might send one from Pemberley to accompany Elizabeth - however, he had insisted upon sending a carriage instead.

Mrs Bennet was pleased to imagine that the carriage was Bingley's, and that he was wealthy enough to be able to spare one; but Mr Bennet recognised the livery, and when Elizabeth came to his library to bid him farewell, he commented, "The fact that Mr Darcy should send his carriage to convey you to Derbyshire, lends considerable weight to the surmise I related to you here, in this very library, some weeks ago, regarding the reasons for that gentleman's exemplary behaviour towards your sister, Lydia. Would you not agree, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth blushed, for she was quite certain that her father was correct in his conjecture.

"Please be assured, my dear, that I now hold the very highest opinion of the gentleman; and should the circumstance that I supposed, arise while you are in Derbyshire, you may inform Mr Darcy that while I would expect the courtesy of a formal application, he may rest assured that I would not deny him the hand of any of my daughters."

Elizabeth again remained silent, for her father's wit was not enough to overcome her embarrassment at speaking upon such a subject.

Observing his daughter's discomfort, he said, "Do not worry, my dear, on account of how your mother might take the news; for while she would doubtless be shocked at your fickleness, in so unexpectedly transferring your affections from Captain Radford to Mr Darcy; when I have explained to her that Mr Darcy is very likely the richer of the two gentlemen, and most certainly of an older and more noble family, she will be consoled; and very soon discover that others had misled her concerning his character - and that he is the finest of men."

Elizabeth could not but laugh at her father's parody, which was, very likely, exactly how her mother would respond to such news - but she, herself, was cautious; for her relationship with Mr Darcy had undergone so many surprising alterations over the past two years, that she could not share her father's confidence that the happy ending to which he alluded was yet certain.

Chapter Fourteen - Darcy Discomposed

Posted on 2011-11-11

On the day following Elizabeth's arrival at Ashbourne, they were invited to dine at Pemberley, where they arrived at an early hour, for Bingley was eager to fish with Mr Darcy prior to the meal.

While the gentlemen were engaged at their sport, Georgiana served refreshments to the ladies in the garden. "I am afraid it will be a very small party today," said Georgiana, "for my brother did not approve of my plan to invite Captain Radford, who is presently alone at Hartington."

"Why ever not?" demanded Elizabeth. "I am well aware of how he discouraged you from being in his company in London, but I always thought it on account of your brother thinking the Captain was a fortune-hunter; but now that he is known to be wealthy, what possible objections can he have?"

Georgiana shook her head. "I do not know, and I would never dare to challenge him on such a matter."

"But I shall," said Elizabeth, "when a suitable opportunity presents itself. Is Colonel Fitzwilliam at Pemberley?"

"No, not at present," said Georgiana, "but I expect he will arrive soon, for I received a letter from Victoria Barclay, who presently remains in Blackpool with her friend. She arrives at Hartington in a few days, where she intends to remain for some time. She wishes to assist Captain Radford in getting himself properly established there. I took the liberty of communicating the news to my cousin," she said with a smile.

"I am certain he will appreciate receiving your intelligence," observed Jane.

"And your cousin is not the only one to whom you do a service, Georgiana," noted Elizabeth, "for he will insist upon Miss Barclay being invited to dine, and Captain Radford must be invited, also."

"Yes, that is true; but please believe me, that it was not my principal inducement. I suspect that my cousin may have developed a preference for Miss Barclay, whereas I have no such feelings for Captain Radford; I simply find him the most amiable gentleman of my acquaintance, and I always enjoy his company and feel at my ease with him."

"He is amiable indeed," concurred Elizabeth, "and I am very pleased to learn that Victoria Barclay comes to the neighbourhood, and your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, also; we shall have many pleasant visits and dinner parties with so delightful a set."

"Yes," said Georgiana, "and I am hopeful that they will stay through the summer, for in August, my brother is to give a ball, in honour of my birthday."

Elizabeth and Jane were delighted at the news, and the ladies found much to say on the happy prospect. However, their conversation was cut short at this point, for Mr Darcy approached, and greeted them. "I have left all the fish for Bingley, for he is a keener angler than am I," he said by way of explanation. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he turned to Elizabeth and said, "Miss Bennet, I was hoping that there might yet be time, before the meal, for you to view the rose garden - it is considered one of the finest in this part of the country."

"I would be delighted," said Elizabeth, exchanging a glance with her sister and Georgiana; for the three ladies had visited it more than once, when Elizabeth and Jane had stayed at Pemberley in the spring.

"Mr Darcy," began Elizabeth, as they walked along the path, "please allow me to thank you for your kindness in providing a carriage for my journey to Derbyshire, it was a most unexpected, but appreciated, courtesy."

"It was my pleasure; although I would hope that it was not so entirely unexpected," he said meaningfully. Elizabeth looked away from the intensity of his gaze. "Miss Bennet, I am well aware that there is a particular matter which causes you great dissatisfaction. I speak of the young lady whom you encountered by the river when you visited your youngest sister, some months ago. My silence on the subject has, I fear, led to you forming a conclusion regarding my relationship with the young lady, which is entirely false. This will, I know, hardly satisfy your curiosity, but unfortunately there is nothing further I can say on the subject without violating a solemn oath that I have given to another. Since you were last at Pemberley, I have contemplated this matter a great deal; and regrettably, I still find myself unable to solve the dilemma of how to satisfy your justifiable concerns and curiosity while honouring my promise."

"I, too, have been contemplating this matter, Mr Darcy, and you may be surprised to learn that I have attempted, in my own way, to solve the dilemma," said Elizabeth.

"What?" demanded Mr Darcy, abruptly stopping, and staring at Elizabeth in confusion. "How?"

Elizabeth, who had also stopped, now walked on; obliging her companion to do likewise. "When we departed Pemberley in the spring, for Longbourn, we made a small detour through Suffolk; for my sister, Jane, was eager to visit our younger sister, Lydia."

"Oh? I am most surprised to learn that you were able to find the place."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, I imagine you might well be; for your coachman, who conveyed my sister, Catherine, and myself, there from London, took the most circuitous and confusing route. I would not wish to complain about the competence of those in the service of another - most especially when he has been so generous in providing the use of his carriage; and on more than one occasion - but one almost suspects that the coachman was under orders to ensure that it would be quite impossible for us to know to whence we had been taken - or ever to find the place again."

"I may have given an instruction of that nature," said Mr Darcy awkwardly. "So, how then, were you able to find the place?"

"Luckily, I happened to come across a map of Suffolk in your library, upon which someone had, most helpfully, circled Freston."

"I see," said Mr Darcy uneasily.

"Mr Bingley did not enter the house with us, and though he is aware that my sister resides there, he is unaware of the identity of its owner - and knows nothing of its other occupants. While Jane was talking with Lydia, I managed to find Julia, who had hidden herself in the garden."

"My God - you know her name!"

"Yes, but she told me very little else besides - except that she loved you, and believed that her love was returned."

Mr Darcy looked most serious, but said nothing. They had by this time reached the rose garden, and Elizabeth seated herself on a sunny bench, where her companion awkwardly joined her.

"Miss Bennet, I have a solemn request to make of you."

"Yes, Mr Darcy?"

"Please do not repeat anything about Freston and its occupants - save for your younger sister - to anyone. Have you spoken with anyone else on the subject?" he asked anxiously.

"I believe I told you, once before, that my sister, Jane, and I confide everything in the other; however you may be certain that she keeps my confidences, and will tell them to no one - not even her husband."

"And is she is the only one, other than yourself, who knows... of Julia's existence?"

"There is one other - my aunt, Mrs Gardiner, whom you met, together with my uncle, last summer."

"Yes, I remember them - most amiable people - but how came you to tell your aunt?" he demanded.

"As you may imagine, Mr Darcy, after speaking with Julia I was most unhappy indeed; for it confirmed my worst fears. Soon after my return to Longbourn my aunt and uncle came with their children to visit. Jane and I have always been very close to our aunt; and when we find ourselves in need of advice or guidance from a sensible older lady, we have come to greatly value her wise counsel. Hoping that she might find some explanation, other than the obvious one, I told her of my conversation with Julia, and about the house. My aunt was particularly interested in Mrs Harrison, and her behaviour, which I had found puzzling, for she sometimes betrayed an authority that was unexpected in a housekeeper."

"I see," said Mr Darcy uncomfortably.

"My aunt expressed a great desire to see her niece, Lydia."

"My God, you did not go back a third time?"

"I am afraid that I did, Mr Darcy. I do not know if you recall her speaking of it, but my Aunt Gardiner spent much of her youth in Derbyshire - in the town of Lambton - and it seems that my information about Mrs Harrison stirred a recollection of an incident, most strange, that occurred when my aunt was but a girl of fifteen. For one day, quite without warning, she found herself without a teacher. They were told that their teacher had gone as a governess to Scotland. My aunt was the good friend of the younger sister of the teacher; and, by good fortune, when we visited Derbyshire last summer, she succeeded in finding her, and renewing their acquaintance. Having long ago ceased to give credence to the story about their teacher's disappearance, my aunt questioned her friend, who now gave her a completely different account of those long ago events. Her sister, she said, had fallen in love with a wealthy married gentleman, who, upon discovering that she was expecting his child, had secluded her in some distant and unknown place."

Mr Darcy sat shaking his head in disbelief.

"When we entered the house at Freston, much as she had suspected, my aunt recognised Mrs Harrison as being none other than her missing teacher, Catherine Norton; who, when presented with the account of her disappearance, as given by her younger sister, Mary, conceded everything. Mary had not actually revealed the identity of the gentleman, for she herself was ignorant of it. However, given your connection with the house, my aunt had little difficulty in guessing his name; and when she claimed that Mary had, in fact, revealed the father of her daughter as being Mr Darcy, Mrs Harrison readily acknowledged it."

Elizabeth had never seen Mr Darcy look so discomposed. His face was anguished and pale; he hung his head, shaking it. Eventually he took a deep breath and said woefully, "I have betrayed my father; I have failed to keep the oath that I gave him on his deathbed, to keep secret, the great disgrace of his life."

"You blame yourself unfairly, Mr Darcy," said Elizabeth gently. "All your father could possibly have expected of you, and believed you to be promising him, was that you should do everything in your power to guard his secret - which I am certain you have done. No man could reasonably expect another to promise something that was entirely beyond his ability to ensure. Your only contribution to my discovery of your father's secret, was in allowing Lydia to see her sister Catherine, which you could not have imagined would result, as it has, in my discovery.

"The villain of the piece is not you, Mr Darcy, but I; for I have acted from impetuous self-interest, and refused to allow anything to prevent me from uncovering the truth - no matter what unhappiness it might have caused another."

"Please, Miss Bennet, do not blame yourself; do not feel remorseful or suffer regret, for you knew not that you were injuring me."

Elizabeth laughed. "I feel remorse, and suffer regret? I do not! I rejoice at my discovery, which makes everything possible - and as for injuring you - it is a nonsense; for if you imagine yourself to be to blame for my actions, then it is a fanciful injury of wilful self-infliction."

"Yes, perhaps you are correct, Miss Bennet, that I am not culpable for your discovery. However, in being true to the promise I made to my father, I now find myself obliged to beg you, with all my being, to keep this awful secret, and to prevail upon Mrs Bingley and Mrs Gardiner to do likewise."

"You may be assured that I shall do exactly as you ask," promised Elizabeth.

"It may surprise you, that my father should have been so utterly desperate to hide his indiscretion. Most probably, you will think - but surely it is not so unusual a history - a rich gentleman taking advantage of a pretty young girl."

"I will admit that I thought exactly that."

"My father was a moral gentleman of high standards and principles. Regrettably, his married life was not a happy one. That is not an excuse, I know, and he swore to me, when he made his confession on his death-bed, that Miss Norton was the only lady with whom he ever... had committed an indiscretion. And he was truly in love with her, he said. She was the eldest daughter of the rector of Kympton, which was in my father's gift. Mr Norton was a frequent guest at my father's table, and on occasion the generosity was returned, and my father was invited to dine at the parsonage, which was where he made the acquaintance of Miss Norton, who was considered a local beauty. Though his behaviour at the time was reprehensible, he afterwards did everything in his power to make the lives of Miss Norton and her daughter as comfortable and happy as possibly he could; and he continued to visit her for the rest of his life."

"Your father was certainly generous in providing for them; and I understand that you continue to do so, and have unreservedly assured them that they will be supported all their lives."

"Yes, but I am simply carrying out my father's injunction, and honouring my promise to him; I deserve no praise, the credit is his."

"However, in the case of your sister, Julia, you have, I believe, gone far beyond what was required by your promise; you have gone to great lengths to endeavour to advance her happiness."

"What brother could do otherwise, and for so lovely and blameless a one as she? I regret only that I am unable to do more for her; it saddens me that her life is destined to be one of isolation and loneliness; and though I take every opportunity to provide her with what company I am able, it is not enough."

"No, it is not enough. And though you are to be greatly commended for all you have done to please your sister, and to alleviate her loneliness, yet she is melancholy; and her future is not promising."

Mr Darcy shook his head sadly. "Your discernment, Miss Bennet, is acute. You are entirely correct, and it troubles me greatly."

"Do not reproach yourself, Mr Darcy. You are not the author of your sister's misfortune, and you have done everything within your power to soften it."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the dinner gong, and as they were at some distance from the house they immediately set out to return, and rejoin the rest of the company.

"Miss Bennet," said Mr Darcy in a somewhat tentative tone, "there was something you said before which struck me most forcefully. We were speaking upon the subject of your having uncovered my father's secret, and you said that rather than feel remorse or suffer regret at your discovery, you rejoiced, for it made everything possible. May I hope that I did not mistake your meaning?" he asked, looking at her imploringly.

Elizabeth smiled, and looked purposefully at the path before her. "Everything, may mean a great many things; and that, which takes precedence above all others in my mind at the present moment, is the possibility of materially improving your sister's situation."

"Oh, I see," said Mr Darcy, evidently disappointed. "But you, yourself have just now acknowledged that I have done everything in my power - what more, pray tell, can I do?"

"I was not speaking of what you can do, Mr Darcy, but rather of what I can do; although it will require your consent and cooperation."

"Oh?" asked Mr Darcy in surprise. "Of what were you thinking, Miss Bennet?"

"I have been pondering the matter a great deal since I was last at Freston, and I believe I have hit upon a way to relieve Julia's isolation and bring her into society - at least in some small way."

"How do you imagine you might do it, without revealing my father's secret?" asked Mr Darcy, clearly alarmed.

"I wish to invite your sister to visit me at Ashbourne, as my special friend."

Mr Darcy stopped walking. "But surely that will demand some explanation about her background - who is her father, and so on. No, I am sorry, but most regretfully, it cannot be done."

Elizabeth continued to walk. "Yet I believe it can. My sister is but recently arrived in the neighbourhood, and for those who are not aware of the exact details of her family connections, she will simply be considered a lady of good character from the south of England. For as a married woman, her respectability derives principally from her husband; and Mr Bingley is known widely in these parts on account of having visited frequently - but most especially through his being the good friend of yourself. As Mrs Bingley's sister, and living presently under the protection of Mr Bingley, my respectability will be taken for granted, and will, I believe, be consequently conferred upon any guest of Mr and Mrs Bingley who is known to be my special friend."

Mr Darcy looked doubtful. "I cannot see how questions regarding her family cannot arise."

"Initially, I imagine that Julia will wish to remain quietly at Ashbourne. Remember, she is quite unaccustomed to being in society, and it would be best if she is exposed to it gradually. If she were to go amongst strangers - for example, to attend a ball or some large dinner party - then, yes, something would need to be communicated, for she is an unmarried lady. But here, amongst friends and acquaintances of Mr and Mrs Bingley, I believe no one would question her background; and she is so visibly shy, that she would, I believe, be very likely spared questions concerning her past."

"She, herself, may be spared such questions, but others would not," objected Mr Darcy, still unconvinced.

"If someone should ask explicitly as to her background, they will be referred to myself, and I will give them to understand I have my reasons for not wishing to disclose it; and they may think what they will."

"I am not so sure that it will be as easy as you suppose, Miss Bennet, and it could result in a great deal of embarrassment for Julia."

"If your sister's presence should create difficulties, or if she becomes uncomfortable, then she can simply return to Freston. At least she will have had a temporary diversion from her solitude."

"But my sister is a most beautiful and charming young lady. It is inevitable that young men must be attracted to her, and think of her as a prospective wife; in which case, questions of who are her father and mother cannot be avoided. Did you consider that?"

"I did; and indeed my hope is that eventually your sister will be married - for aside from the obvious reason of wishing her every happiness, it would greatly diminish any interest in her origins, for her respectability would be principally determined by that of her husband."

"Yes, perhaps," conceded Mr Darcy. "But how is she ever to find a husband? For any man wishing to marry her would be obliged to enquire about her parentage. All he could be told is that her father was a gentleman, and her mother a gentleman's daughter; and that he might never know their identities - and that furthermore, she was born out of wedlock. Can you not see that under those circumstances, no gentleman would wish to marry her?"

"No, I cannot!" said Elizabeth pointedly. "You do not allow for the strength of love. I concede that perhaps for most gentlemen, even the most ardent love would not be enough to overcome the objections you raise. Yet there are men, I believe, for whom those objections might not be insurmountable. Not every gentleman is of so elevated a rank as your own, nor has he the same feeling as to what is owed to the name of his fathers and forefathers, nor has he all your relations and connections to consider, who would wish to know all the details of the lady's family."

Mr Darcy shook his head and walked on in silence for some time, contemplating Elizabeth's proposal. "Such men may exist, I suppose, although I cannot think of a single one. Please believe me, nothing could give me greater happiness, than that my sister should fall in love with such a gentleman - who, knowing of her background, would still wish to marry her."

"And I, also."

"But I fear that we are become carried away with our hopes; and dream of the impossible, Miss Bennet. For if I am being entirely rational, I am obliged to conclude that such a happy outcome is most unlikely, indeed. Nor can I ignore the potential for mischief and a great deal of unhappiness; for there will be no want of men who would fall in love with my sister - she is truly the loveliest of creatures. And if there are those, whose circumstances are as you describe, who, knowing the truth, would still wish to marry her, they must be a very small number indeed. But what of the others? What of any other gentleman who should fall in love with her? Think of the pain he would suffer, upon learning that marriage was impossible - and think of the pain it would cause Julia if she were in love with him. I am truly sorry, but I cannot allow it."

"You forget that I shall be observing your sister closely, and guiding her carefully. I will make her aware of the dangers of which you speak; and should I observe the possibility of an attachment developing with a gentleman to whom marriage would clearly be impossible, I shall advise her to discourage him. Please trust me, Mr Darcy."

"I do trust you, Miss Bennet, but yet I am wary. Apart from the matters upon which we have been speaking, there is that great fear which I have borne these past seven years, since my father's passing - that the secret he has charged me with guarding might become known to the world. I have deliberated a great deal in that time over how it might be possible to bring my sister out into society without endangering that secret, and it has been my unwavering conclusion that it cannot safely be done. And to attempt it here, in Derbyshire, where she has living relations of both her father and mother, seems most reckless, indeed. I am not acquainted with her aunt - but you tell me that she lives in Lambton, and then there is myself and Georgiana. Someone might observe a family resemblance."

"Of her Aunt Mary, in Lambton, I cannot say. I remember meeting her last year with my own aunt and uncle, but I can remember nothing of her features. I will admit that I did detect some resemblance between Julia and yourself - but only because I was looking for it - I did not notice it on the previous two occasions, before I knew of your relationship. As for Georgiana and Julia, I can find no striking resemblance - or at least nothing that would give rise to suspicions of a relationship."

But try as she might, Elizabeth found herself unable to allay Mr Darcy's fears, which she conceded were not unreasonable. It was evident that though he sincerely wished to do what was best for his sister, his overwhelming sense of obligation to his father, and the promise he had made to him upon his deathbed, overcame every other consideration.

As they neared the house, she said, "Mr Darcy, I understand your doubts concerning the likely success of my plan, and your fears regarding the secret that you have vowed to keep. But consider the happiness of your sister. I know you love her. Is not the possibility of delivering her from a life of loneliness and seclusion worth those risks? And I hardly need add that it would please me greatly."

He sighed deeply. "Please allow me think further on the matter."

When they rejoined the others, the inquisitive eyes of the Jane and Georgiana were straight away upon them; but it was soon evident that the delightful news which they both hoped to hear would not be announced. Elizabeth looked somewhat nettled, and was hardly a picture of joy and happiness, and Mr Darcy seemed severe, and frowned rather a lot, and often appeared lost in thought.

After the meal, when the gentlemen rejoined the ladies in the sitting room, Georgiana played at the pianoforte while Jane and Bingley listened attentively. Mr Darcy took the opportunity of taking Elizabeth aside and seating himself beside her to one side of the room, where they might not be overheard. "Miss Bennet, I first of all wish to tell you how greatly I appreciate - and indeed, am deeply touched - by the depth of your concern for my sister, Julia. Your unyielding determination to extricate her from her lonely existence gives me pause to think that in my preoccupation with keeping the promise I made to my father, that I have erred too much on the side of caution, to the detriment of my sister, for whom I failed to do all that I might."

"You are too severe on yourself, Mr Darcy. No brother, in the circumscribed situation in which you found yourself, could have shown greater love, or done more for his sister."

"You are most kind, but my guilt is not so easily assuaged. Perhaps the only thing I may say in my defence is that I lacked the imagination to devise a scheme as ingenious as yours, which might allow my sister the possibility of coming out into society. I am determined to put it into effect with all urgency."

Elizabeth smiled with delight. "Thank you, Mr Darcy, for granting me my great wish - and for putting your trust in me; I shall strive not to disappoint you. How do you propose to convey your sister to Ashbourne?"

"I have a matter of business that requires me to go to London at some stage within the next few months. I have resolved to bring it forward, and shall depart tomorrow. I will stop in Freston on my way to town, and discuss your scheme with Julia and her mother. If it is favourably received, and Julia wishes to visit Ashbourne as your guest, then I shall call again at Freston on my return journey, and collect Julia."

"Oh, to think that she may be here so soon! I am delighted! Please ask Julia to write to me, straight away, to tell me of her decision - although I have little doubt that it will be in the affirmative. Does she go by the name of Julia Harrison?"

"Yes, although I believe her mother introduced her to your younger sister as Julia Smith, in order to hide their relationship."

"Since you wish to conceal her identity as your sister, you will need another lady to accompany you on your journey," advised Elizabeth.

"I shall bring one of the maids from Freston along with us on the journey; in fact, she might as well remain at Ashbourne, as a maid to my sister."

"I would not recommend it. Servants are in the habit of exchanging confidences with each other; and it is my experience that very often they know a great deal more of what is going forth in the lives of their masters and mistresses than might be imagined. A maid from Freston might very well whisper to the other servants that you were a frequent visitor there, and your secret might soon be known."

"You are most astute, I had not considered that possibility; I shall send the maid back to Freston immediately by post. Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Only that you may wish to enquire of your sister if she is in possession of all the appropriate attire that she will require to engage in society; and if not, she and her mother may wish to provide you with a list of purchases along with her measurements."

"Where would I take such a list?" asked Mr Darcy.

"Harding and Howell, on Pall Mall, should be able to supply all of her requirements. However, you could hardly order such items yourself, for an unknown lady, without creating a scandal."

"Then what would you suggest?"

"Take the list to my Aunt Gardiner. I shall write to her immediately, so that she will know to expect you. She will arrange to have the gowns made up; and if your visit to town is but short, she can give directions for everything to be sent to Ashbourne."

"I do not intend to spend above two or three days in London. You may expect to receive my sister at Ashbourne within a week or ten days."

"I shall look forward to it with the greatest delight," said Elizabeth, smiling happily.