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Posted on Monday, 18 February 2002
"All aboard!" came the guard's cry. Edith took her final look at King's Cross station. Black curtains adorned every window. It was a common sight in London. The Blitz, now six months long, had crippled the nation's capital. The war dominated the people's lives. Indeed, no one was untouched by its pain. Edith remembered only a few months earlier, farewelling Charles from this very platform, as he left for his final training. He was now en route to Singapore, and she prayed every night for his safe return.
The train began to move and Edith acquainted herself with the interior of the carriage. Opposite her sat an officer in Royal Air Force uniform. A younger man, with Sergeant's stripes on his sleeve, accompanied him. The officer took a look out the window as the platform disappeared from view. "Looks like we're in for some more rain," he said.
"Yes, so it would seem," Edith replied. The weather seemed as good a topic as any to begin a conversation with.
"Captain James Westlake," the officer said by way of introduction. "This is Sergeant Thomas McCabe," he continued, indicating to his colleague.
"I'm Edith Holland. As you can tell from the uniform, I'm a nursing sister."
"I'm pleased to meet you Sister. And where does the call of service take you?" the Captain asked.
"Derbyshire. I'll be working in a returned soldiers home."
"Ah, very important. My uncle stayed in one after the First War. It helped him to recover a great deal."
"Of course, it would be better if no casualties were sustained in war at all," said Sergeant McCabe.
Captain Westlake smiled and jovially asked, "Are you turning pacifist now McCabe?"'
The Sergeant did not reply. Edith, however, agreeing with his sentiments, said, "I understand what you mean Sergeant. I have a brother serving in the Army. It is a very worrying time."
"Indeed it is. Tell me Sister, what is the name of this home where you will be working?" asked the Sergeant.
"I believe it is called Pemberley, and that it has been leant to the War Office by its owner in this time of uncertainty." Edith felt a little ashamed that she was not more knowledgeable about her destination. In truth, she had been so keen to receive a posting that she had neglected to investigate Pemberley's history and situation more.
"Pemberley?" asked the Sergeant quizzically.
"Yes, do you know it?" Edith thought his question had betrayed a knowledge of the place.
"No, no, tell me more." She was mistaken.
"I know nothing else about it," she replied.
"Well, I wish you all the best for it Sister," said the Captain amiably.
"Thank you, sir, and the same to you."
Posted on Monday, 18 February 2002
Edith arrived in Derby late at night. The city was blacked out, as was to be expected and she was one of only a few passengers alighting from the train. She felt a cold breeze move across the platform and hugged her overcoat tight. A female figure emerged from the shadows of the stationmaster's office.
"Edith Holland?" the woman asked.
"Yes," Edith replied.
"I'm May Armatige. I'm one of the sisters at the home." May's thick Yorkshire brogue became apparent as she introduced herself.
"Pleased to meet you May."
"Come now, let's get you out of this cold. Are these all your bags?"
May had an Army truck to drive Edith to Pemberley. It turned out that May's duties included visiting many of the local farming families, as the doctors in the area were stretched to their limit. May was slightly taller than Edith, with thick auburn hair. She was the sort of person Edith's father would have called "a tough old bird". Although was not old, she had a natural resilience and confidence that Edith felt she lacked.
It took them just under an hour to arrive at Pemberley. In the dark Edith could not tell what the house looked like, only that it was very large and was surrounded by an extensive park. May showed Edith to her bedroom, which she was to share with an elder nurse called Hetty Wainwright. Edith thanked May for all her help and then lay down for a few hours sleep. Despite Hetty's habitual snoring, Edith found it easy to drift off - her day had been extremely tiring.
Posted on Monday, 18 February 2002
Edith was woken early the next morning by Hetty, or Sister Wainwright, as she insisted on being called. Although old-fashioned in her ways, Sister Wainwright was very helpful in informing Edith as to the arrangements at Pemberley. The day started with breakfast and then the various staff would go their separate ways depending on their duties. After breakfast, Major Burrows, the army medico in charge of the establishment, was to give her a tour of the house and explain her role. In the afternoon she was to start working, caring for patients in the amputee ward with May.
At breakfast, Edith was introduced to another ten or so nurses. Most of them were on duty and so hurried off. Edith found herself waiting for the Major on her own, but she was more than amply engaged by the view from the window to the lake. She had never seen such a picturesque scene before. Her native Hertfordshire had never afforded her such natural beauties.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, also made an appearance and voluntarily provided Edith with a brief history of the house. It was built around the time of the Restoration and was a major source of employment in the local area, even to this day. Edith imagined that a small army must be needed just to keep the gardens so neat.
"What is the name of the family who live here?" she asked.
"Why, the Darcys, Sister." Mrs. Jones' tone sounded as though she expected her to know the family. Certainly in this part of England they must be well known.
Edith was about to ask if any of them were at home at present when Major Burrows strode into the room. The major was a tall, well built man, with a moustache that, had it been during another war, might have been likened to Kitchener's.
"Ah, Sister Holland I believe?" he said, extending his hand and giving Edith a very firm handshake.
"Yes Major."
"Now, you're from Hertfordshire, are you not?"
"That's correct sir."
"Right. Excellent. Come with me. I'll make this brief. This damned place is a bit of a rabbit warren, so take care not to get lost." He marched to the door and opened it for her.
For the next half hour Edith found herself trying to keep up with the Major's brisk pace as he lead her around many rooms and corridors. He occasionally stopped to make comments such as "this room's for amputees" or "psychiatric ward - take care with them". Her favourite room was particularly long and furnished with the designs of many generations. Portraits of Darcys past and present adorned the walls. A grand piano sat in one corner, while the chairs were distinctly Georgian in style. The most modern item in the room was a wireless which was of the latest technology. Pemberley intrigued her greatly, and she could not wait to discover more about it. At the end of Major Burrows' tour, Edith returned to her room to unpack her belongings. In the quietness she reflected on her decision to join the service. Nursing had not been her first choice. She was supposed to be a loving wife by now. Even now, David's abandonment still stung. She had hoped that throwing herself into her profession would take her mind off her disappointment. As yet, she was unsure how successful she had been.
Out of the corner of her eye, Edith spotted a large portrait on the wall about Sister Wainwright's bed. The subject was a woman, around Edith's own age, with dark chestnut coloured hair and what could only be described as fine eyes. I wonder who she was, Edith thought. Checking her watch, she realised it was almost time for her to begin her duty. She would have to puzzle over this mystery-woman's identity at a later date.
Posted on Sunday, 3 March 2002
Life at Pemberley soon became regular and comfortable for Sister Edith Holland. She became used to the routine of night and day shifts. The company of her fellow nurses was also enjoyable, except on occasions when Hetty Wainwright chose to lecture them on their hairstyles or the music they chose to play to the patients. Sadly, as the war rolled on, the number of patients grew. The only benefit to this was that the nurses were worked flat-out, which was just how Edith liked it.
Occasionally she accompanied May on her rounds of the local farms and the village of Lambton. Lambton was a quaint little town that seemed to have hardly changed over the last century. Every so often one came across a more modern addition, such as a telephone booth, but otherwise the town retained a 19th century air. Edith enjoyed visiting the village to do pieces of shopping and imagine herself as the heroine of a romance novel. This fantasy didn't last long, however, as there was little romance to be had in her life. On one morning trip to Lambton with May, Edith revealed something of her past to her new friend.
"Do you know, I think I'm going to call you Edie from now on," May said out of the blue.
"Oh," Edith replied reluctantly and turned her view to the passing woods. May sensed that she had touched on a sore point.
"Why? Don't you like it?"
"Oh, no," Edith said, still refusing to meet May's eye. "It's just that's what my fiancé used to call me."
"Are you engaged? Why, you sly thing!"
"No. I'm not," she answered, then quietly added, "Not any more at least."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"He decided to call it off."
"I'm sorry. Me and my big mouth! Look, they're not worth it, you know. He doesn't know what he's missing."
Edith laughed. "That's what I'm trying to convince myself. Anyway, it's okay. I like being called Edie."
"Good. Now Edie," May said as she parked the truck in front of a cottage, "It's time for you to meet Mrs. Perry, Lambton's very own hypochondriac."
Mrs. Perry's cottage was quite old and in desperate need of repair. Edith would have hated to let her own mother live in such a place. Mrs. Perry noticed her surveying the sitting room. "I know it's not much, but I like it, dear. It was in better shape before, when it was part of the estate, but old Mr. Darcy had to sell it, to pay off his father's debts. I don't have the money to repair it. Now, you young ladies will be wanting a cup of tea."
It didn't take long for the two nurses to diagnose Mrs. Perry's condition - a case of anxiety for her son and grandson at war, and a slight cold. Edith felt that Mrs. Perry's real problem was loneliness. She was very keen to chat.
"So you're working at Pemberley too, are you dear? What do you think of the great house?" she asked Edith.
"It's very grand. I've never seen a place with so many rooms or corridors."
"Aye, well, let me give you a little warning. Be careful. That house is full of bad luck."
"Bad luck?"
"Mrs. Perry," May interrupted, "you'll scare Sister Holland away. Bad luck indeed!"
"Well, I'm just saying that many sad events have taken place there. They say it's haunted!"
"Haunted? Really Mrs. Perry, do you believe that?" May retorted.
"Maybe, maybe not. But why else would the master spend so little time there?"
"Who would expect him to when his house is full of sick soldiers? Anyway, we must be off. I'll check in on you again later in the week."
May was extremely pragmatic. Her Yorkshire blood required it. Essentially, Edith was too, but she couldn't help but be intrigued by Mrs. Perry's allusions to local folklore. After all, why was there none of the present Darcy family at Pemberley? It was exceedingly puzzling.
Posted on Monday, 11 March 2002
Edith decided to bring the subject of bad luck and hauntings up with the housekeeper. The next morning, as she served breakfast, Edith asked Mrs. Jones about the rumours.
"Mrs. Jones, did you know that it's common belief in the village that Pemberley is haunted?"
Mrs. Jones seemed stunned at first by this question. "Haunted, Sister? Why would they think that?"
"I don't know. Mrs. Perry seems to believe the place has been cursed with bad luck."
Mrs. Jones shook her head. "I went to school with Mavis Perry. She always had a great imagination. I don't hold much stead in curses either. I wouldn't worry about it Sister. I've heard all sorts of stories about Pemberley in my time and they hardly ever turn out to be true."
Edith trusted Mrs. Jones' judgment and so thought no more of the matter. One night, however, she had cause to remember Mrs. Perry's words.
She was on duty in the psychiatric ward. It was a quiet night as far as the patients were concerned, they all slept soundly in their beds, and Edith was passing the time by writing a letter to her parents.
Dear Mum and Dad,Well, life at Pemberley continues to be busy. I work many shifts and then help with household chores in my spare hours, so there is very little time for relaxation, although in this national situation I suppose we must forgo many pleasures. I hope you are both well. Mother, I think happily of the day when I return home and you will cook up one of your excellent puddings. I can almost smell it now. Thank you, Father, for the present of the book. I have not yet had a chance to read it - as you can tell I am very occupied - but it does look very enjoyable and I look forward to reading it.
Have you heard from Charles? He promised he would write to me and as yet I have not had a word. I should not complain. I'm sure he is at least five times as busy as I am and, therefore, has every excuse for not writing to his little sister.
Suddenly Edith was distracted from her letter by a whimpering sound from the far end of the room. Walking towards it, she saw that it was Private Collins who was making the noise. His eyes were wide open and he was writhing around in his bedsheets.
"Collins, what is it?" Edith asked.
"Ghosts! People! I can see them!"
"Where? What people?"
"A family. By the fireplace."
Edith could see nothing except some flowers on the mantelpiece. "Collins, there's nobody there. It's just a dream."
"No," he insisted.
"I can't see them," Edith said, somewhat foolishly. She knew she should not indulge his fantasy, but part of her wanted to see the apparitions for herself.
"Come on Collins," she said, trying to regain her professionalism. "Why don't you just try to get back to sleep?"
Edith was surprised that he didn't resist, but quietly turned over and, muttering quietly to himself, appeared to go to sleep. As she left him, she took another look at the fireplace. It looked as benign as ever.
Posted on Monday, 11 March 2002
Pemberley,
May 1st, 1830
My dear Jane,I am so glad to hear that you returned safely from your journey to Ireland. I do hope Bingley's cousins were well, and that you had an enjoyable visit. Life here at Pemberley is rather quiet I am afraid, for the boys have returned to Eton since you last visited, and their presence does deplete us somewhat.
Anne is entertaining hopes of coming out in a few seasons, though I suspect her father would prefer to keep her under his watchful eye for many years to come. At ten years old, she is beginning to show signs of becoming a woman and her interests are changing accordingly. She wishes to learn every dance that ever there was, so find myself often employed as her pianist. She gets on very well in her lessons with Miss Smith, and declares that her favourite subjects are French and music.
Mr. Darcy is at present quite anxious, for there is a large group of tenants who are discontent, and he wishes to please them all, though this is becoming more and more impossible. The dispute seems to be caused by the tenants of our neighbour's estate. My dear husband gives so much concern to the running of the estate. I worry that he doesn't enjoy his time. I hope at least that when the boys return for their summer break he shall ride with them. The children do him a great deal of good.
We received a letter from William last week. As you have observed, he is so like his father in every particular that I believe in a few years I shall not be able to tell them apart. He enjoys his studies, especially the sciences. He has recently become enamored with Newton, and can tell you anything about Calculus or Gravitation that you please. He seems to believe that this is a Century of Science, and is determined to be part of it.
Edmund on the other hand is as gregarious as ever. He plays all kinds of sports, and beats us all at cards. He declares he shall go into politics. William finds this ridiculous, but Edmund says that a second son has a choice between the army or politics, and he chooses the latter. His only dilemma is whether he shall be a Tory or a Whig.
You may wonder, my dear Jane, what I do while all this is going on around me. I find myself quite caught up in my role as wife and mother, yet I maintain my love of a good diversion, as is often provided by my correspondence with Charlotte Collins. Her husband's actions as the master of Longbourn are quite amusing, as you can well imagine.
I must end here, the housekeeper has business to discuss with me. I hope you and Bingley and all your dear children are well. Please try to visit us this summer - I long to see you all.
Your affectionate sister,
Elizabeth Darcy.
Posted on Monday, 18 March 2002
Edith could not ignore Mrs. Perry's warnings after seeing Private Collins' outburst. She decided to tell Major Burrows about it. He was less than impressed.
"Sister Holland," he said, "do you remember what I told you about the patients in the psychiatric ward? They're not harmful chaps, but they're disturbed. Shell-shocked, that's what we called it in the last war."
"But sir..."
"Have you seen any of these ghosts yourself?"
"No, but..."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
Edith sighed. "Yes, sir."
She recounted the event to May, who simply shook her head and said, "See what happens when you listen to gossip."
"I'm not going crazy. I was just wondering if there was a connection."
"It's just a coincidence, and you'd be a fool to let it get to you."
It seemed that nobody would take her seriously. She tried to put the event behind her and move on, which was easy enough, as there was always plenty of work at Pemberley.
One afternoon, about a month after the family of ghosts had haunted Private Collins, Edith was in the front sitting room with some patients who were reading or playing board games with each other. Suddenly the door opened and a young man walked in.
"Excuse me," said Edith angrily. "You can't just come in here! This is War Office property." The man seemed stunned at her tone, and, shocked, did not reply. She stood up and walked towards the man with such determination that he had to retreat out of the room. She closed the door behind him and asked herself, "I wonder what that was all about."
She was soon to find out.
At dinner that night, Major Burrows walked into the dining room. To Edith's surprise he was accompanied by the stranger.
"Sorry to interrupt your meal, ladies, but I wanted to make an introduction. This is Mr. William Darcy, the owner of Pemberley, who as you all know, has generously given the War Office the use of his property."
Edith blushed furiously as she realised her mistake. What a fool she must seem!
"Mr. Darcy will be staying here at Pemberley for the next few weeks at least, but he promises not to get in the way of our day to day running of the place."
Major Burrows and Mr. Darcy then joined the nurses for dinner. After overcoming her initial embarrassment, Edith had the opportunity to take notice of Mr. Darcy's appearance. He was a slightly built man, though of medium height, with blue eyes and light brown hair. She thought him around the same age as her brother Charles, who was 28. His suit, she estimated, was quite expensive, but also more fashionable that she would have expected from the master of Pemberley. Then again, she had always imagined the master of Pemberley to be around fifty, overweight and an avid foxhunter. So far she had been wrong about his age and stature, perhaps she would be wrong about his habits too.
After the meal, Major Burrows came over and introduced her to Mr. Darcy.
"Mr. Darcy, this is Sister Edith Holland."
"Yes, we've already met," Mr. Darcy replied curtly. The Major seemed to ignore this remark and, distracted by a conversation on the other side of the room, he left the two alone. Edith seized the opportunity to apologise.
"Mr. Darcy, may I apologise for my mistake this morning. If I had known..."
"Yes, it was a mistake," he replied in a grave tone, "but I suppose I can forgive you." Then he too left to join the other conversation. Edith wasn't sure if she should be grateful to him or not.
If anything, Mr. Darcy's arrival posed more questions than it answered. Where had he been all this time? Where was the rest of his family? And why, since he was so young a man, was he not serving in the war?
Posted on Friday, 29 March 2002
The strange happenings at Pemberley were not to cease with the return of the master. Only a few days after Mr. Darcy's arrival an incident was to take place that would put the whole house in uproar. Hetty Wainwright was doing a night shift by herself in the amputees' ward - she was covering for May, who had gone on a date - when one of the patients had another miraculous vision. What exactly happened, no one could determine. The patient involved refused to talk about it, and Hetty was equally in a stupor.
What was known, was that at approximately 11:30pm, Edith, who had been helping the cook wash up after supper, had heard a scream from the amputees' room. She and the cook went to investigate, only to find Hetty bolting out of the room, waving her arms and hyperventilating. Edith tried to get her to sit still while the cook went to find Major Burrows. While she was gone, Mr. Darcy came into the sitting room.
"What on earth has happened?" he asked. "There was a terrible scream."
"I don't know yet. I'm trying to find out. Turning to Hetty, she said, "Sister, please, tell us what happened."
"You'll think I'm crazy. I must be crazy."
"No, we won't. We just want to hear the truth."
Hetty sniffed back some tears and murmured very quietly, "There were ghosts in there."
Mr. Darcy laughed very cynically at his, but he was silenced by a glare from Edith.
"What exactly did you see?"
"Private Wilson saw them first. He said they were Victorian and in mourning, over the death of a son, or something." At this point Hetty broke down and couldn't say any more.
Edith turned around to ask Mr. Darcy if he knew who these ghosts could be, but he had left the room. Before she could look for him, Major Burrows strode in and asked for an explanation of the event. As Hetty was still mute, Edith filled him in as best as she could. The Major was still skeptical of the idea of ghosts, but even he couldn't deny that there was something odd about Pemberley.
Mr. Darcy returned to the sitting room and Major Burrows asked him, jestingly, but still curiously, if he knew of any ghosts that inhabited his house. Mr. Darcy smiled faintly and replied that he had not seen any apparitions himself. This satisfied Major Burrows. He told Edith to put Hetty to bed after a nice cup of tea and went on to interview Private Wilson about the affair. Mr. Darcy disappeared again, this time in the direction of the library.
Edith made sure Hetty got to bed and then turned in herself. She was comforted to hear Hetty snoring, and felt rather weary, though for the life of her, she couldn't get to sleep.
Posted on Friday, 29 March 2002
2nd June, 1869
PemberleyDear Edmund,
I write to thank you for your kind condolences on the event of young George's death. We have all bourne the tragedy quite badly. Caroline is distraught, and spends he days in her room with Mrs. Perkins. Elizabeth and Victoria have been kind and resourceful, but they are still feeling the effects of their own mother's death. Young Edward seems unaware of the what has occurred, though he misses having his brother for a playmate.
And I? My grief is quiet and expressed in solitude. The natural order of things has been reversed - I have buried my own son. This is especially poignant as he was so young a son and I am so old a father, but I suppose the children of a second marriage experience this predicament.
I am angry too that science, which I have put so much faith in, failed George. How many more lives must be lost before medicine can find a cure for such an infection? I am sorry brother. I know asking rhetorical questions is your job, as the politician, but I have spent a lot of time of late contemplating these issues.
Edward is now heir to Pemberley, and I hope he will be deserving of such a role. I often think of our father, of how hard he worked as master of this estate. I do not think I have lived up to him.
On this somber note I will leave you Edmund. I understand our aunt Wickham still stays with you in town. She really is a miracle. No money, no sense, yet she lives as good a life as the rest of us. If she is becoming unwelcome, as I sense from the tone of your letter, I suggest that you send her to our cousin, Charles Bingley, or perhaps you could convince her to visit her son in New South Wales.
Your brother,
William Darcy.
Posted on Friday, 29 March 2002
The next morning at Pemberley was equally eventful, although on a less dramatic scale. Hetty was still in shock and disbelief. She was deemed unfit for duty by Major Burrows. He decided to send her to a neighbouring farm for a week to help her recover. The Major was quite angry at May for leaving Hetty on her own, and May found herself covering the majority of Hetty's shifts while she was away.
"I though you were the one who said men weren't worth it," Edith reminded her as May complained about her increased workload.
"Yes, well, I need to listen to my own advice, don't I?" May replied.
With Hetty gone, Edith was able to enjoy having a bedroom to herself. For the first time in some months, Edith found herself wondering about the identity of the woman in the portrait - the one with the sparkling eyes. She was determined to discover her identity.
Mrs. Jones seemed the best person to consult. As the housekeeper, and before that a resident of Lambton, she must have a fair knowledge of the Darcy family history. Edith was not proved wrong. When she asked Mrs. Jones about the subject of the portrait in her room, the housekeeper knew instantly whom she was talking about.
"Ah, that's Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, Sister. She was married to Fitzwilliam Darcy. They would be the great-great grandparents of the current Mr. Darcy."
"What sort of people were they, do you think?"
"Well, they say that theirs was the last truly happy time here at Pemberley. There have been many sad times here since."
Edith wished to ask about these sad times, but perhaps it was not appropriate. Mrs. Jones continued.
"I believe Elizabeth Darcy was from Hertfordshire, Sister, like yourself."
"Really?"
"Yes. They had three children, William, Edmund and Anne, if I'm correct."
Edith was sure she was. "Tell me, does the current Mr. Darcy have any brothers or sisters?"
Mrs. Jones hesitated for a second, then said, "Yes, he has a younger sister, Adeline. She's married to a millionaire in America. I haven't seen her since she was nineteen years old."
Edith wondered that Mr. Darcy could live such a solitary life. Surely he must have friends somewhere, even if he didn't have any close family members.
Such reflections could not last long. As was usual at Pemberley, something new came to distract Edith. Some new soldiers arrived and needed to settle in.
Posted on Friday, 5 April 2002
"Sergeant McCabe!"
Edith recognised the Sergeant from her rail journey immediately as she entered the ward.
"Sister Holland! We meet again."
"Though not perhaps under the best of circumstances," Edith replied, looking at the crutches that Sergeant McCabe was using to walk.
"Indeed," he agreed, smiling.
"How do you like Pemberley?"
"Yes, it's very ... big. But I have seen it before."
Edith was extremely surprised. "Really? When?"
"My father was the rector of a parish on the other side of Lambton. I'm back in my local territory."
"This is surprising. Why didn't you mention it during our train journey?"
"I ... well, I have no explanation."
Suddenly, Edith remembered something. "Do you know William Darcy? Because he is here at the moment."
Sergeant McCabe seemed reluctant to give any answer. "Yes, I do know him." He then abruptly changed the topic.
Later that night, Edith passed Mr. Darcy in one of the house's many corridors.
"Oh, Mr. Darcy," she said. "There's a patient downstairs who's an old acquaintance of yours. Thomas McCabe."
Mr. Darcy appeared almost shocked by this news.
"Right," he replied, "Thank you Sister Holland," and walked on.
Edith related his reaction to Sergeant McCabe.
"Well, he wouldn't be pleased to meet me, would he?"
"Why not?"
"Well, I know what happened to his brother."
"I didn't know Mr. Darcy has a brother."
"Well, he had a brother ..."
Edith was intrigued. The Sergeant continued.
"Around ten years back now, William and his elder brother John were hunting in the woods on the other side of the lake. Next thing, William turns up in Lambton, covered in blood, saying his brother's dead. The police go out to the scene and, true enough, John's been shot. At first they thought it was an accident but it seems their weapons experts didn't agree. They thought William had murdered his brother."
Edith was shocked beyond comprehension. "I don't understand. Why would Mr. Darcy want to kill his brother?"
"Well, he'd stand to inherit this place, and its estate. I mean, the family's wealth isn't as great as it used to be - their grandfather was a serious gambler - but it's still a great inheritance by anyone's standards."
"But how can Mr. Darcy own Pemberley if he killed his brother?"
"It was never proved. The police dropped the case. They say William paid them a handsome fee to keep quiet."
"This ... this is unbelievable."
"Well, you only have to ask anyone 'round here to find out it's the truth. Or if you want to really know the truth, I know where Mrs. Darcy's diaries are."
Normally Edith would not have been so tempted to pry into other people's personal lives, but she desperately wanted to uncover the truth about Pemberley, whatever it was. For the first time, Edith thought to question Sergeant McCabe's knowledge. After all, how would he know where Mrs. Darcy's diaries were? The Sergeant explained that his mother had been a close friend of the late Mrs. Darcy and they had had no secrets between each other. "Come now," he said, "I know you're intrigued. Why don't you look at them?"
Posted on Saturday, 13 April 2002
At breakfast the next morning, Edith's porridge sat growing cold while she played with it with her spoon. "On the one hand," she thought to herself, "you might find out what all these ghost sightings are about. On the other hand, there would be lots of things in there that are none of my business. Oh, how do I get myself into these dilemmas?"
"Penny for your thoughts," May said, taking the seat next to her. Edith was startled. "Ooh, he must be good then."
Edith was slightly annoyed. "Why do you assume everything has to do with a man?"
May pretended not to be affronted. "I'm only pulling your leg."
Edith felt she should apologise. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit distracted."
"You don't say," May replied under her breath. "Look, I just wanted to know if you were going to come to Lambton with me this morning?"
"Oh, no, there's something I need to do here."
"What?"
"Nothing." Edith hadn't been this secretive with anyone since she was a teenager.
May sighed. "Look, I'll see you later."
"Right." Edith returned to her thoughts. "That's it," she thought, "no more wasting time, I'm going to do it."
Despite Pemberley's labyrinthine corridors, it didn't take her long to find the room Sergeant McCabe had described. As she opened the door, a musty smell wafted out. The staff had clearly avoided cleaning this room for some time.
In the corner she found a chest of drawers that seemed like a good place to keep a diary. A thick layer of dust lay across its surface. Old perfume bottles still sat on the top, though their scent had disappeared a long time ago.
Edith opened the top drawer with some hesitation. What a snoop she was being! Drawing in her breath, she was somewhat relieved to find that the drawer was full of ladies' accessories: scarves, gloves and the like. The drawer proved to be much more interesting. It contained not one, but four diaries, each composed in different handwriting. The only similarity between these authors was that they had all borne the title of Mrs. Darcy.
Posted on Sunday, 21 April 2002
I have appropriated some of this format from Peter Carey's True History of the Kelly Gang. If you read it you will discover he is a much better writer than me.
[Diary #1: 12cm ´ 20cm, leather bound with the inscription on the first page: To Dearest Eliza on her Wedding Day.
Elizabeth Darcy, as correctly stated by Mrs. Jones, was from Hertfordshire, and with her husband, Fitzwilliam, had three children, William, Edmund and Anne.]
February 25th, 1813
Pemberley
And so I finally have use for dear Charlotte's wedding gift. I have never been a diary writer - my thoughts flow much too quickly to be recorded satisfactorily - but Charlotte insisted that she found regular diary entries to be a wholesome distraction from married life. I shall not venture to speculate on her marriage, but so far I have not had a moment's reflection on my own.
Due to some pressing matters of business, Mr. Darcy could not be away for long, and so we decided to postpone any wedding trip until a more favourable occasion. After our wedding we spent but a week in London. Mr. Darcy was regularly engaged in his business affairs, but I took delight in exploring my new home. Of course, my aunt Gardiner was happy to help me. Nonetheless, this was not the way I had envisaged the first week of my marriage.
Soon we were on our way to Pemberley and en route Mr. Darcy apologised for his lack of attention to me.
"I'm afraid Elizabeth," he said, "that you are beginning to rue your choice of husband."
"Not at all," I replied jestingly. "You know I would be very unhappy if I had an idle husband."
This seemed to lighten his heart a little, and indeed when we arrived at Pemberley, he was a new man. Christmas was approaching and so we were busy together in preparation for the Gardiners' visit.
But wait! I knew this would happen. Mrs. Reynolds calls me away from my writing this minute. I must attend to her and neglect you, dear diary.
[Diary #2: 6cm ´ 10cm, cloth covered, many of the later entries are written in pencil.
Emma Darcy was the first wife of William Darcy. She died not long after this entry was written, leaving behind her two daughters, Elizabeth and Victoria. William remarried. His knew wife, Caroline, bore him two sons, George and Edward. George late died as a child. There is no evidence that Caroline Darcy kept a diary.]
July 10th, 1850
I cannot hide from it anymore, my health is failing me. I find it difficult to walk from one room to another without feeling weak. I am, by doctor's orders, confined to my room, which is terribly difficult for the girls, who have no one to share their energy with.
William will not accept that there is no cure. He consults with the best physicians in London, but they do not want him to raise his hopes too high. Fortunately, his mother has returned from Anne's and is very comforting for us all. Last night I overheard her say to William, "Emma will not be with us much longer, my dear. You should prepare yourself as well as possible." I hope he takes her advice.
[Diary #3: 15cm ´ 20cm, loose leaf paper tied together by a ribbon.
Catherine Darcy married Edward, the surviving son of William and Caroline. Edward's gambling problems lead to financial difficulties for the family. Despite this, Catherine managed to raise two children, Edward and Alexandra, as well as keep the Pemberley estate out of debt.]
2 March, 1888
Dear Diary,
I never imagined I would say it, but my marriage was a mistake. Father's reasons for disapproving of the match are beginning to prove themselves correct. Edward has deserted me. He went to Bath a fortnight ago and has not replied to my letters begging his return. Since his departure I have received bills from many tradesmen in the local area that cannot possibly be paid for - at least with the money that I have at my disposal. I have also received word that Edward has left gaming debts of a significant nature in London. To add to my worries I have discovered that I am with child. It is not in any way advisable to bring a child into this situation. Not only would it add an extra financial burden to us, but I am so busy running the day-to-day business of the estate that I have not the time to raise a child properly.
I fear that we may have to sell the house in London, which has been in the family for four generations at least. Oh why cannot Edward take responsibility for his debts and his duty? This is a wretched marriage indeed.
[Diary #4: 10cm ´ 20cm, cloth covered with an Oriental pattern.
Winifred Darcy was the wife of Edward, and mother of the current Mr. Darcy. She suffered from a nervous disorder as a result of her son's untimely death and died at early age because of it. She never resolved in her mind whether William was the murderer.]
Sept, 1934
Pemberley
I have been told by my doctors that writing about the events of last Autumn may help me to recover from my illness. I have allowed the grief of John's death to consume me. The loss of a son is always tragic, but under these circumstances, when I hardly know what truly happened, I find myself at a loss to understand the truth of the matter. Only William knows the truth. At present he chooses to stay in Durham with his studies. I cannot tell if he is guilty, as all the town suggests. I don't want to believe that my son could have killed his brother. Yet something happened in the woods that day that William will not reveal. What could force him into secrecy?
I have tried to get it from him, but he pushes me away. "Mother," he said, the last time I asked, "you don't want to know. It's enough that I have to live with it." What is it that torments him so? Is it, as I dread, guilt?
That facts as I know them are as follows. John had come home for the weekend from Cambridge. He was in an excellent mood, he spent all of the Friday night regaling us with stories from his college. I remember he said he was going shooting the next morning and William insisted on going with him. I remember it because William had never really shown an interest in hunting before.
I did not see them that morning as they had already left by the time I went down to breakfast. I spent the morning with Adeline in the music room. She practised her violin and I most likely wrote letters.
It was around 1pm that I discovered that something was wrong. Mrs. Shepherd came running into the room saying that the police had come. She was soon followed by a Constable. I forget his name. He said that John had died, had been shot, and that they believed that William had killed him. I do not remember much of what happened next. I seemed to have blocked it from my memory. I know from what Edward has told me that William spent nearly two days at the police station before he was allowed to come home. He wasn't at the funeral either, as he had to travel to London with the police. He would not even tell Edward what it was about, but I was sure that he would be arrested. When he returned he merely said that, "it was all sorted out". I know what the rumours are, that he bribed the police to drop the case against him. I don't know if there is any truth in that - I hope that there is none - but I am scared, because in my heart I do believe that William is capable of corruption.
Edith spent several hours reading though these diary entries, sharing the high and low points of the lives of the Mrs. Darcys. Mrs. Winifred Darcy's diary was the most intriguing and Edith could not help pacing back and froth across the room as she read with consternation about the death of John Darcy. Surely Mr. Darcy could not be guilty of corruption? She did not know him well but it went against her nature to think that anyone would willfully disguise the truth. Yet certainly it was not in Mr. Darcy's favour that his own mother thought him "capable of corruption". Edith was contemplating these issues when suddenly she heard the doorknob turn behind her. Someone had caught her in this forgotten room.
Posted on Friday, 26 April 2002
Edith's heart was in her mouth as she heard the door creak open. She could not bring herself to turn around, for she feared that it may be Major Burrows and he would not like her snooping around Pemberley.
"Sister Holland, what are you doing in here?"
At the recognition of his voice, she turned around. "Mr. Darcy, I..." Suddenly words failed her. How could she explain to Mr. Darcy what she was doing, and, indeed, why she holding his mother's diary in her hand?
"How did you know I was here?" she ventured.
"My study is directly under this room. I heard footsteps and so decided to see who was in here. I didn't expect to find one of His Majesty's servants." Mr. Darcy was clearly angry to see her snooping around, but there was something in his eye that suggested he found it humorous to catch her in the act. Before she had time to reply, he spied the diary in her hand.
"My mother's memoirs interest you, do they?" His tone was so sarcastic that Edith wished like nothing else that she could escape somehow.
"I am so sorry, sir. I never meant to intrude..."
"What!" Now he was really angry. "Do you think I am completely stupid? You must have planned to intrude on my family's private property or else you would not be in here."
Edith was so frightened and remorseful that she burst into tears. Unwilling to hear anymore of his tirade she ran past him and out of the room, leaving Mr. Darcy to pick up his mother's diary and discover what Edith had been reading.
Edith quickly found her way to her bedroom and locked herself inside. She cried bitterly for over an hour as she thought of her behaviour. What had she been thinking? She had no right to be reading other people's personal diaries. How would those women have felt if they'd known that some girl who thought she was clever enough to solve a mystery would read their innermost secrets?
That thought, of course, reminded her of Mrs. Darcy's thoughts on John's death, and that started another wave of tears as she realised that she could possibly be living in the same house as a murderer and one that she had just angered.
After many tears, Edith finally left her room and, after a trip to the bathroom to maker herself presentable again, she walked downstairs towards the more busy part of the house. Major Burrows came out of his office as he saw her approach.
"Ah, Sister Holland," he said, "can I have a word?"
Suddenly, it entered Edith's head that Mr. Darcy may have told the Major about their encounter and insisted on having her leave Pemberley.
"Sister Holland, I've heard some rather extraordinary news about you this morning. Mr. Darcy was in here. I understand that he caught you rifling through his mother's possessions."
"Sir, if Mr. Darcy wants me to leave Pemberley then I'll go and pack my things straight away."
"No, no, he wants nothing of the sort. I must say, he's being very reasonable indeed. But I do think an apology would be in order."
"Yes, sir."
"I'd go and do it now if I were you."
"Yes, sir."
It was with great trepidation that Edith approached Mr. Darcy's study. She knocked anxiously on his door and her heart leapt as she heard the words "Come in."
"Mr. Darcy, I have come to apologise for my behaviour this morning. It was unpardonable and I hope that you will forgive me. It will not happen again."
"I accept you apology, Sister." Mr. Darcy returned to his writing so Edith turned to leave the room.
"Sister Holland," he called, "do you believe that I murdered my brother?"
"I don't know." It was the only truthful answer she could give. After a silence of some seconds she left the room, leaving Mr. Darcy to his thoughts.
Posted on Thursday, 16 May 2002
It is not this writer's task to explain the thoughts of William Darcy in too much detail. Certainly, since returning to Derbyshire a number of events had occurred that had unsettled him. Although he had laughed it off at the time, Hetty's ghost sighting had unnerved him. His mother had claimed to see ghosts at Pemberley in the months before her death. The doctors had explained that this was part of her nervous disorder, but perhaps there was some truth to it after all. And William had discovered that the event described by Hetty and Private Wilson had actually happened. His great-grandfather, an earlier William Darcy, had lost his elder son, George, to an infection in 1869.
What disconcerted him most (the present William Darcy that is) was the sudden reopening of the events surrounding his brother's death. He was annoyed by Edith's obvious interest in the case. What had she to do with it? No doubt Thomas McCabe had been interfering and regaling the nursing staff with the story.
William had a resilient character, however, and was unlikely to be persuaded to leave Pemberley because of the gossip of a nurse and one of her patients. No, it was an occurrence of a much more personal nature that finally made him pack his bags.
It was early in the morning after Darcy had discovered Edith in his mother's room, around 3am. After spending many hours finalising estate business, he left his study to head for his bedroom. The corridors were dark but he knew them well. After taking a few steps he heard what sounded like footsteps behind him. He turned around cautiously but, of course, there was no one there. A few steps more and there was the sound again. This time he chose to ignore it, but it persisted. Finally, he turned around to a most unexpected sight.
"John?" He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. There, standing before him was his brother. He was not, as ghosts are generally expected to be, transparent, but appeared to be just as alive as the day he had died.
"John...I...what..." Darcy was speechless. The spectre didn't speak, he just stared at William, stared straight through him.
Mr. Darcy did not stay in the corridor in order to convince himself that his eyes were deceiving him or that John's apparition was just a figment of his tired mind. He acted only in primitive fear and ran as fast as he could to his room, locked the door behind him and sat on his bed in a cold sweat. Perhaps his mother's nerves were hereditary.
Posted on Thursday, 16 May 2002
When Edith awoke she naturally had no idea that there had been another ghost sighting at Pemberley during the night. Her first thoughts were of her misadventure the previous morning. It was with much self-pity that she took herself downstairs to breakfast. She walked directly into chaos. Servants were running from room to room and several large suitcases were being carried downstairs. Outside there was just as much ruckus. She looked out one of the windows and saw Mr. Darcy giving a long list of instructions to Mrs. Jones while warming up his car. The suitcases were promptly loaded onto the back seat.
"It's chaos 'round here, isn't it?" May said as she spied Edith watching through the window.
"What's going on?" Edith asked her.
"It seems Mr. Darcy had decided that he must leave Pemberley at once." May's tone made Mr. Darcy's decision seems very childish and impulsive. She didn't have much time or respect for the upper classes.
"Where's he going?"
"London, I imagine. He certainly has a lot of luggage."
May and Edith continued to watch Mr. Darcy. As he was about to get into the car, he looked through the window at Edith with a mixed expression of anger and sadness. Edith at once felt guilty again and wondered if he was leaving on her account. May noticed the glance from the landlord and, as he drove off from the house, she asked "What was that about?"
"I think I may be the reason why he's leaving," Edith admitted.
"You? Why, what did you do? Refuse an offer of marriage?"
"No!" Edith exclaimed laughingly. "No, but I may have led him to believe that I believe that he's a murderer." She whispered the last part.
"What!?" May shouted.
"Sister Armatige, please restrain yourself," Major Burrows boomed from across the room. "Have you forgotten that this is a hospital?"
"No, sir, it's just..." She stopped trying to explain as Edith dug her in the ribs.
"Both of you get on with your duties."
Edith found herself back on duty in Sergeant McCabe's ward. He was eager to speak to her. Edith was confused by the events of the previous day and wasn't really sure if she wanted to talk about it, but the Sergeant began to question her as soon as an opportunity arose.
"So, did you go?" he asked.
"Yes," Edith replied quietly.
"And? What did you find?"
"The diaries, as you said."
"And?" Sergeant McCabe was impatient for information.
"It seems that his mother believed he was a murderer."
"And what about you?"
"I don't know. Sergeant, he caught me in there, reading his mother's diary. I'm afraid that's why he's left this morning."
Sergeant McCabe didn't seem too worried about this. "It's for the best," he said, "We don't want a murderer around here."
There was something in his tone that disturbed Edith, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.
Many moths passed at Pemberley and there was no sign of Mr. Darcy's return. There were no further ghost sightings or exciting revelations about the landlord. Sergeant McCabe was soon well enough to return to his squadron. Edith was not sad to see him go. She was still unsure what to think about Thomas McCabe, William Darcy and the death of John Darcy.
Posted on Saturday, 25 May 2002
In her spare time, rare as it was, Edith had taken to walking the grounds of Pemberley. She particularly liked visiting the little cemetery in the churchyard. It was hidden behind a small wood. It was Edith was walking through this wood one day that she got a great surprise.
As it was very quiet, she could hear sobbing from the direction of the cemetery. She continued on cautiously. As she reached the edge of the wood she noticed a man sitting in front of one of the graves. His back was facing her, so she couldn't tell who he was. She had just decided to turn back to the house and give the man some privacy when a chilling breeze made her sneeze. This gave away her presence and the man turned around.
"Sister Holland, is that you?" The man was Mr. Darcy. Edith felt all the embarrassment that came with such a situation. Before she could speak, he smiled through his red-rimmed eyes and said, "We really should stop meeting like this."
Edith was still undecided as to whether she should stay or go, but Mr. Darcy tried to make her feel comfortable.
"It's alright," he said, "I was just visiting my parents and my brother."
Edith approached the graves. "I didn't know you had returned from London," she said.
"I only came up this morning." He offered no explanation for his absence. "How has Pemberley survived without me?"
She sat down beside him. "It's still standing." It was the only answer Edith could think of.
"Good." After a short silence he continued. "It wasn't meant to be my concern, Pemberley. I was going to be a diplomat. Good at languages, you see."
Edith noticed a tone of regret in his voice, which made her, for the first time, question his motive for murdering his brother. He didn't seem to want the inheritance.
"But when your brother died, your plans changed."
"Yes." There was again a short silence. Edith listened to a bird whistle in a nearby tree. She loved the hidden sounds of the outdoors.
"Do you know why I left so suddenly in February?" Mr. Darcy asked.
"No."
"I had a ... a Macbeth moment, shall we say."
Edith was puzzled. "I'm sorry," she said," we studied King Lear at my school."
Mr. Darcy smiled. "Macbeth begins to see ghost after he murders the king."
Hesitatingly, Edith said, "So you..."
"Saw my brother's ghost." He finished her sentence for her. Was this an admission of guilt?
He continued. "Sister..."
"Please, call me Edith. This 'Sister' business makes me feel like I'm in a convent."
"Well, Edith, you have expressed an interest in my brother's death. May I tell you the truth of it?"
"Of course." Edith wasn't sure what to expect.
"I don't know what Thomas McCabe told you, or what my mother wrote in her diary, but I have only ever shared my ... account of the day with the police.
"My brother John was two years older than me and I had always looked up to him. He was good at everything that I failed at: sport, shooting, he was the life of every party since he was a child. I was never jealous of him though. I just enjoyed being with him. I suppose I hoped that some of his glory would rub off on me.
"We went to school together but John had gone to Cambridge for a year before he died. I didn't see him much then, but the news I got from my parents was that he was having a wonderful time and found all his subjects terribly easy. Father was very pleased, he hoped that John would be equipped to be an excellent landlord and master. Times were tough then, as you know, and it wasn't as easy as it might seem for my father to send John to Cambridge, but he was happy to make the sacrifice for his elder son.
"Anyway, on this particular weekend, John and I were both at home at the same time. I couldn't wait to see him again. I was not disappointed. All Friday evening, John regaled us with funny stories about his life at university. I wished that I could have joined, but I knew that my father had said there would not be money enough for both of us to go to Cambridge.
"Then John told Mother that he planned to go hunting in the morning and I instantly asked if I could join him. He seemed surprised, as I had enjoying hunting and he tried to dissuade me from going. He thought of many reasons why I shouldn't go, but I was determined, and eventually he capitulated.
"The next morning he seemed more happy about my presence and was keen to get started. We walked to Hare Wood, on the far side of the estate, which I thought was strange. I always thought my father and his friends preferred to shoot closer to the house. The when we were setting down our guns, John suddenly remembered that he had forgotten the cartridges for his rifle. He asked me to go and get a replacement from the house, said he was tired from walking. I obliged. I was starting to regret asking to come. I really didn't enjoy shooting.
"'You owe me,' I said.
"'Don't worry. I'll reward you,' he replied."
Although enthralled in Mr. Darcy's narrative, Edith noticed that his hands had begun to shake slightly.
"I had only walked 500 feet when I heard a gunshot behind me. I ran back ... I don't need to tell you what I found."
"An accident?" Edith ventured quietly, hoping rather than believing.
Mr. Darcy shook his head. "No. There was a note for me. He said that he had never wanted Pemberley and all its responsibilities and that he was handing it to somebody who could do it all much better. But I never wanted this either! I didn't want for everyone I knew to think I was a murderer, or for my parents to die broken-hearted because of their favourite son's death, or for my sister to marry an American because she couldn't stand to be around our tragic family anymore."
Mr. Darcy had worked himself into quite an angry state, but it was obvious that he had never had a chance to express these feelings.
"Why couldn't you tell the truth and clear your name?" Edith asked when he had calmed.
"I told the police, I had to, but I couldn't tell my parents. How could I tell them that their beloved son had turned his back on his family and all it had to give him?"
"Do you really think that's why he ... killed himself?"
"To be honest, I think it was just an excuse. I later discovered that he had failed his first year at university and had considerable debts to a bookmaker in London."
Edith pondered all the revelations she had heard and came to one conclusion.
"Mr. Darcy, I must apologise to you."
"You've done nothing wrong. You didn't know the truth."
"No, but I judged you before I had all the facts, and if there's one thing I despise, it's people who form ignorant opinions."
Mr. Darcy smiled. "I forgive you. And I'm not being sarcastic this time!"
Edith laughed, then checked her watch. "Goodness!" she exclaimed, "I have to get back for my next shift." She stood up quickly.
"May I walk back with you?" Mr. Darcy asked, standing as well.
"Certainly, but I warn you, I don't dawdle."
"Not a problem. After you."
Posted on Thursday, 30 May 2002
After they had left the cemetery, Edith asked, "Can you explain all these ghost sightings at Pemberley?"
"Well, I don't really understand it," Mr. Darcy replied. "My mother said that she had seen ghosts not long before she died, but we thought it was part of the ... condition she was suffering from."
"Do you know who they are?"
"I ...well, I should say I don't actually believe in ghosts."
"Not even after seeing your brother?"
"Yes, it's ridiculous, isn't it? But at any rate, I still rather skeptical."
"Mmmm..."
"But in answer to your first question, Sister Wainwright's description sounds like my great-grandparents' family."
"Could you tell me a bit about the family history."
"I said I was a linguist, not a historian. My father was more interested in his ancestry than I was, but I heard him talk about it enough. I think I remember some details."
"Then I want to hear them."
"Okay, well, let's start with my great-great-great grandfather, George Darcy. His wife's name was Anne. They had a son and a daughter, Fitzwilliam and Georgiana."
"Fitzwilliam?" Edith asked incredulously.
"Don't make fun of my relations!"
"I've just never heard that name before."
"I think it was a name from Anne Darcy's family. Anyway, Fitzwilliam Darcy married Elizabeth Bennet..."
"Oh, I know her," Edith interrupted. "Her portrait is in my bedroom."
"Really? I'm not sure if I've ever seen that portrait."
"They had three children, didn't they?"
"Yes, your snooping has been accurate. Their names were William, Edmund and Anne. William's first wife was Emma... oh, I forget her surname. At any rate, she died after having two daughters, Elizabeth and Victoria. He married again, to a Caroline and they had two sons, George and Edward."
"George is the one who died."
"That's right. It sounds like they were the ghosts Sister Wainwright and that Private saw."
"So Edward was you grandfather?"
"Yes, and a right rogue he was too. He gambled half the estate away." Mr. Darcy shook his head. "My father always disliked the way his father treated his mother. I think that's what made him such a gentle man. He didn't deserve everything that happened to him."
"Your sister lives in America now?"
"Yes, in Boston. Her way of escaping."
"And you went to Durham?"
"Yes, as I said, there wasn't enough money for me to go to Cambridge. But after everything that happened, I wouldn't have wanted to go there anyway."
William and Edith walked out of the seclusion of the wood to see the grandeur of Pemberley ahead of them.
"You know," Edith said, "despite the ghosts and the tragic past, it really is a beautiful house."
"You're right. Sometimes I forget that."
Edith observed a wistful expression on his face. How much he had changed in her estimation in the last hour!
"Edith," he said as she increased her pace towards the house, "you know this dance that's being planned?" He referred to a dance being organised by Major Burrows and an Air Force squadron staying near by for the nurses and servicemen.
"How could I forget it? It's all us nurses have been talking about for the last month."
"Yes, well ... would you be my partner?"
She hadn't predicted this. "Are you sure? I..."
"If you don't want to..." He seemed intensely embarrassed. When Edith reflected on it later, she wondered if he'd asked many girls out.
"No, no, I'd love to." She checked her watch again. "I'm sorry, I really do have to hurry off now."
"Of course. I'll see you later."
"Bye-bye."
Posted on Saturday, 8 June 2002
The dance was originally planned to be held at the church hall in Lambton, but when Major Burrows became involved, he decided it would be better to hold it at Pemberley, so that the nurses would not be far from the most needy patients. Mr. Darcy of course acquiesced. Apart from the fact that he had already found the courage to ask Edith, he also wanted to make a good impression on the guests, who no doubt had a less than positive view of him. He was not much of an entertainer, but he consulted Mrs. Jones about what needed to be done to prepare the place. The family housekeeper was more than happy to help.
"Your mother always loved holding balls," she said.
"It's just a dance, Mrs. Jones. Nothing special," Mr. Darcy replied as he watched her stir a large pot of soup. Normally, no self-respecting housekeeper would be seen working in the kitchen, but the war had led to a shortage of staff at Pemberley, and so Mrs. Jones helped the other servants whenever she saw a need.
"But it's so long since we had anything like a ball here. Now, I wonder where I put those lanterns that your mother used to use?"
Edith soon realised that this dance was to be her first date since her engagement to David had ended. There had been a time, not so long ago, when she had thought that she would never even speak to a man again, at least pleasantly. There was so much about William Darcy that she didn't know. She had known Dave all her life, they'd had no secrets. Or so she had thought, until he decided that he didn't want to marry her after all.
May could not hide her astonishment when she discovered that Mr. Darcy was Edith's partner for the dance.
"Let me get this straight," she said. "You thought he was a murderer, and now you're going to spend a night dancing with him?"
"I admit, it's unusual," Edith admitted.
"I'll say!"
"Let's just say, my opinion has changed greatly."
Edith was more worried about what she was going to wear. When she'd packed to come to Pemberley she'd only brought her uniforms and a few spare dresses. She didn't have the time or the money to buy anything new, so she settled on a floral dress her mother had made a couple of years earlier and hoped that it would do.
She didn't get a chance to talk to Mr. Darcy much before the big night. She knew he had been helping Mrs. Jones to prepare the house. Part of Edith wished that she was included in these preparations, but then the other part of her remembered how much she hated organising events like this.
The morning of the dance she met Mr. Darcy in the front sitting room, where they had first met many months before. He looked remarkably calm for someone who was about to host a large gathering, as he read a book with a cup of tea sitting next to him.
"Looking forward to it?" he asked cheerfully.
"I think so, apart from the fact that I don't have any suitable shoes and I've probably forgotten every dance-step I've ever learnt."
"Oh dear. I'd forgotten about that. Oh well, between the two of us we should be able to figure something out."
"How many guests are you expecting?"
He tilted his head and raised his eyes slightly as he calculated in his mind. "Sixty-four."
"Sixty-four? I thought it was only meant to be a small dance."
"Yes, well, it seems to have taken on a life of its own."
"I hope Mrs. Jones is prepared to feed them all."
"I cannot think of anyone less able to do so."
"And who's providing the music?"
"Ah, now that was a stroke of luck. The squadron leader has organised a RAF band for the night."
"Wonderful...What are you reading?"
"Nothing," he replied with mock secrecy.
She took the book out of his hands and skimmed its pages. "It's German!"
"You're not going to accuse me of being a Nazi now, are you?"
"Of course not, but you must be very good at it if you can read a whole book in it. What's it about?"
This seemed a bit too close to the bone for Mr. Darcy. "Haven't you got anything better to do? The Führer will not be happy if he sees you wasting time."
"Fine. I'll see you tonight then." She smiled and walked out of the room.
"Heil Hitler!" he called out behind her.
Edith had planned to get herself ready as early as possible, but her plans were thwarted by a particularly sick patient, who needed her attention. Consequently, some of the guests had already begun arriving by the time she dashed upstairs to get dressed. She quickly found her dress, deliberated for a while over which shoes she should wear and then added a touch of colour to her lips. Hmm, not exactly glamorous, but fine all the same. Then, with a smile at Elizabeth Darcy's portrait, she closed the door and headed downstairs.
Mr. Darcy was waiting for her at the foot of the staircase, though he didn't seem impatient. He was wearing a charcoal-coloured suit and a red tie that, coincidentally, matched the roses on Edith's dress.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Edith apologised.
"It's alright. I believe being late is fashionable these days. I like your dress."
"This? Oh, it's just something my mother made."
"It suits you."
Edith looked intently at her shoes. She wasn't good at accepting compliments.
"Oh, here, I almost forgot," Mr. Darcy continued. "I wasn't sure what colour you'd be wearing, but Mrs. Jones said the carnations were in bloom, so here...for you." He produced a single white carnation and handed it to Edith with a pin. She attached it to her dress.
"Thank you, it's beautiful."
From inside the ballroom the sound of the brass band began.
"Shall we go in?" Mr. Darcy suggested.
"Of course."
Before they reached the entrance, May rushed out.
"Edie, there's someone here who knows you."
Without having a change to reply, Edith was spotted from the doorway by the mystery guest.
"Edie, love, how are you?"
"Dave!? What are you doing here?"
Posted on Sunday, 23 June 2002
There was a kind of four-way standoff in the doorway as Edith, William, May and David tried to work out each other's intentions. Dave made the first move.
"What am I doing here? Honey, I'm part of the squadron. Lucky, isn't it?"
"It's a coincidence alright," Edith replied. She was still in shock. Dave was the last person she'd expected to see at Pemberley.
"I'm sorry," Mr. Darcy said in all politeness. "I don't believe we've met. William Darcy. I own the place." He extended his hand towards Dave.
"David Cox," he said as they shook hands. "I'm Edie's fiancé." He put his arm around her shoulder as if to show everyone that she belonged to him.
A look of confusion washed over Mr. Darcy's face, but he did not betray his surprise. He was not the only one to be shocked. Edith couldn't understand why Dave had lied. After all, he was the one who had broken off their engagement.
"I see," Mr. Darcy said at last. "Well, I suppose we should leave you two alone. You've probably got a lot of catching up to do." Edith wanted to explain everything to him but he retreated into the ballroom before she was composed enough to say anything. May took the hint and followed after him.
"So," Dave began once they were alone, "have you missed me?" He tried to give Edith a kiss but she wriggled out of his embrace.
"Dave, what's going on?"
"What do you mean, 'what's going on'? I'm just happy to see my fiancée again."
"But Dave, you ended our engagement. You said you were looking for someone different, remember?"
"I know, but I've changed my mind. I've missed you. Nobody else is like you Edie. I think we should get married as soon as possible."
"You can't just change your mind like that!"
"Why not? I don't think you've had a better offer in the meantime."
Edith couldn't decide is she was more offended by Dave's assertion that she had been left on the shelf or the fact that he thought she was too stupid to be offended.
"C'mon Edie. I can see you're thinking about it. Let's have a dance."
Edith silently obeyed. She was too confused to object.
While they were dancing, Dave began to ask her about Mr. Darcy.
"Is he married?"
"No."
"So he lives in this big old place by himself?"
"Yes."
"Lucky man. Where's he serving?"
"Sorry?"
"What is he? Army? Navy? RAF?"
"I don't know. Most of the time he's here in Derbyshire, and he always wears civilians."
Dave seemed personally offended by this knowledge. "What is he? Some kind of conscientious objector or something?" He spoke with disdain.
"I don't know, but he's not on active service, I'm sure."
"I suppose he thinks he can lend his house to the War Ministry and hold a few dances for the troops and everything's fine."
"Isn't it?" Edith couldn't understand his anger.
"Every man should do his bit for his country. It's a bit suspicious when he doesn't."
"What are you saying?"
"Maybe he's working for this other side."
"You don't know that." That seemed a bit far-fetched.
"Well, either way, he'd a coward, and that makes him a traitor in my mind."
This seemed to be a bee in Dave's bonnet and as soon as e saw Mr. Darcy nearby he took the opportunity to acquaint him with his feelings.
"Ah Mr. Darcy, nice place you've got here."
"Thank you."
"Does it appease your conscience?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Letting the War Office use your house while you do nothing."
Mr. Darcy became defensive. "What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying, I don't like cowards much."
Mr. Darcy let out a short laugh and turned his back on Dave.
"Don't you turn your back on me!" Dave grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to turn him around. Somehow his fist ended up making contact with Mr. Darcy's face. Mr. Darcy tried to defend himself and in so doing injured Dave's neck.
"Ow! Bloody hell!" Dave yelled, grabbing the back of his neck. By this stage the whole room was watching. While Dave continued to complain about the pain, Mr. Darcy calmly walked out of the room. Edith was torn. She didn't know who she should follow, Mr. Darcy or Dave. Dave was the most urgent concern. He was still writhing about in pain.
"I'll kill him!" he said.
"I don't think you'll do any such thing, young man," said Major Burrows. "Come with me. I'll have a look at your neck." The two men left the ballroom. The band resumed playing and couples around the room returned to dancing after the spectacle.
Edith left the room as well and went in search of Mr. Darcy. She saw a light on in his study and knocked on the door. There was no response so she opened the door. Mr. Darcy sat at his desk with his hand protecting his injured jaw. Edith felt little sympathy for him.
"I hope you're happy," she said.
"Excuse me?"
"Dave's being examined by Major Burrows to see if he has any serious injury."
Mr. Darcy was incredulous. "He started it."
"You know, maybe he's right. Maybe you are a coward."
"I don't see what right you have to judge my character. I didn't disguise the fact that I had a fiancé."
"Dave and I broke up over a year ago. He seems to have blocked that from his memory. As far as I'm concerned, I've had enough of all of you." She turned to leave the room.
"Edith, I'm going to London tomorrow. I planned it a while ago. I thought you should know. I wouldn't want you to think I was running away because I'm a coward." There was a hint of his old bitterness in his voice. Perhaps it would be for the best if they weren't to see each other for a while.
Downstairs she was met by Dave.
"How's your neck?" she asked unsympathetically.
"Not too bad. The Major said I was lucky, no serious injury."
"That's good."
"I won't forget what that Darcy did though. Wait 'til I see him again."
"Well, he'd leaving for London in the morning, thankfully."
"Hmmm, in that case then, maybe I'd be better off spending my time with you." Dave tried to put his arm around Edith waist.
"I don't think so," she replied, taking he arm from behind her back. "Listen to me carefully. When you broke up with me, you broke my heart. You can't just swan in here and take that back. Right now, I don't ever want to see you again."
Dave was, understandably, shocked. He had never heard Edith stand up to him like this. "Well, if that's how you feel, I'll leave," he said. "But don't expect me to make you any offers again." He marched off.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Posted on Sunday, 23 June 2002
Edith slept remarkably well considering all that had happened the night before. She was so sound asleep that Hetty had to wake her so she didn't miss breakfast.
"Sister Holland! Sister Holland! It's time to wake up," she called gently.
"What? Oh, thanks Sister Wainwright." She sat up, though her head was still heavy.
"Are you alright dear?" Hetty asked.
"Alright? Yes, of course." Edith didn't know what she meant.
"I mean, after what happened last night in the ballroom."
"Oh." Now she remembered. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking. I'm not sure about the two gentlemen involved though."
"I dare say they'll survive. They both brought it upon themselves, if you ask me."
"I wholeheartedly agree, Sister. Now, don't let me keep you from your breakfast. I'll be down soon."
"Very well. I'll see you later."
True to his word, Mr. Darcy had departed by the time Edith had dressed. She found that most of the staff were in the ballroom, taking down decorations that she had not had a chance to admire the night before. "I wonder how things might have turned out if Dave hadn't shown up," she wondered. But there was no use in worrying about the past. There was too much of concern in the present.
Edith soon had no reason to fear seeing Dave again, as his squadron moved on to another county. She was quite proud of the way she had finally stood up to him. After many years she'd finally shown him that he couldn't just walk all over her and expect to get away with it. As for Mr. Darcy, well, she wasn't sure what her behaviour towards him had displayed. She was just so angry at all the secrecy surrounding his life and the fact that as soon as anybody questioned him be became so defensive and angry.
Like the last time Mr. Darcy had disappeared to London, life went on at Pemberley, only this time, Edith didn't feel guilty. She had said her piece, it was up to him to heal the rift. She didn't see him racing back, so she assumed that any friendship between them was over. This gave her some cause for regret. Mr. Darcy was an intelligent man and she missed their conversations. Or rather, she missed the conversations that they might have had, had things turned out differently.
Edith spent a lot of time nursing in the Darcys' hall and when she a quiet moment, she tried to put names to the faces of the portraits that hung on the walls. She was fairly sure she could identify Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth's husband, and there was another, more modern painting that looked so much like the current Mr. Darcy, that it had to be of his father. There were also a few photographs in frames about the room. He favourite one showed John and William as children with cheeky grins on their faces. If it hadn't been for the fact that she was disgusted by his arrogance, she may have found it easy to imagine her own photograph amongst those of Mr. Darcy's family. But it is not this writer's task to speculate on what might have been.
She was disturbed from this solitude one afternoon by Sister Wainwright, who came in the room quite out of breath after racing up the stairs.
"Sister Holland, Major Burrows is having to perform an appendectomy and he wants you to assist."
"Me?" Edith was surprised. There were plenty of other nurses available.
"You've had surgical experience, haven't you?"
"Well, yes." Edith hesitated. "Will you keep watch here?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," Edith said as she raced downstairs. She found Major Burrows in a laundry room that had been converted into a surgical room. A young man was lying on a bed, clearly in agony.
"Ah, Sister Holland, just in time. We need to anaesthetise Private Jacobs. Can you help me?"
"Of course, sir."
They got to work immediately and soon the Major had removed Private Jacobs' appendix.
"He should recover soon, shouldn't he?" Edith asked.
"From this surgery, I should think so, but he has other injuries that will take time to heal. And as to whether one really ever recovers from war, I cannot say."
The Major seemed very philosophical to Edith. Perhaps that was what seeing all these young men so ill did to you.
"I should go and clean up," she said.
"Yes, of course. Thank you, Sister. You did a good job this afternoon."
After washing up in the bathroom, Edith walked into the sitting room where she heard a radio on. Mrs. Jones was standing with a feather duster poised in mid-air.
"Hello, Mrs. Jones. How are you?"
"Shh, dear," Mrs. Jones said and indicated that she was listening to the radio.
Edith became aware of the announcer's voice. "I am now repeating, there are unconfirmed reports that Singapore has been invaded. I repeat, Japan has taken Singapore. The situation of British troops is unknown."
The words flashed through Edith's mind. Singapore. Charles was in Singapore. Her knees buckled under her and as she collapsed to the floor, she burst into tears. It was just what she had feared. Now her brother could be injured just like Private Jacobs, or worse.
Posted on Saturday, 6 July 2002
"Sister Holland! Sister Holland!" Edith was roused from her grieving trance by Mrs. Jones' voice. Poor Mrs. Jones! She had no idea what had caused this outburst of emotion, and she wasn't sure what questions to ask to find out. Fortunately, Edith was lucid enough to explain it to her.
"My brother ...Charles ... he's there," she managed to get out in between sobs.
"Oh, my dear." Mrs. Jones gave her a big, motherly hug. It was the only response she could make.
"Oh, what if he's hurt, or he's lying somewhere, dying? Or what if he's been captured? What would they do to him?"
"Shh, pet. Don't think the worst. I'm sure your brother is a very brave lad, and wherever he is now, he's doing his best."
Rationally, Edith knew that Charles would not have done anything stupid and so, despite her despair, she hoped that he would at least have avoided any conflict.
Mrs. Jones left the room and fetched Major Burrows, who suggested Edith go to bed.
"But how can I sleep, sir?"
"That's an order Sister."
So she did go to bed, and managed to sleep. Major Burrows told the rest of the staff to be understanding towards her and made her roster a little lighter. She continued to do her work but she had lost any interest in her job. She lost weight as well, because she couldn't bring herself to eat anything more than a few mouthfuls at every meal. May was worried about her.
"Edie, he's probably okay. Maybe he escaped. And even if he's been taken in as a prisoner of war, at least he's still alive."
"I know, I know. May, I think there's more to the way I feel than just what might have happened to Charles. It's this whole war. It's just so wrong. There are families just like mine all over the world who are feeling this way, who don't know where their brothers are, and what for? Why are we having this stupid war anyway?"
"I don't know how to answer that. I believe that we're right to challenge Hitler and Mussolini and Japan. Someone has to stop them from invading countries whenever they please. But you're right. It's not fair that ordinary people have to suffer because of it."
"Charles is such a good person. He's so funny and caring. He signed up the day after war was declared. I don't think Dave or Mr. Darcy would be half as courageous as him."
"Well, it's lucky it's him in this situation and not them."
Edith seemed to cheer up a little after this conversation. One day, however, a telegram arrived. Everyone knew this meant bad news, so when they heard that a telegram had arrived for Edith, they expected the worst. May told her the news.
"Edie, Major Burrows has a telegram for you."
"Who's it from?"
"I don't know. You'd better go see him."
"Yes."
Edith was so nervous, she didn't know if she had the strength to walk to the Major's office. She got there somehow.
"Edith, come in." Edith didn't realise he had abandoned the more formal "Sister Holland". Major Burrows didn't want to be the bearer of bad tidings. "Here it is."
Edith opened the envelope and inhaled sharply as she took out the message. She read it once, then again, then she handed it to Major Burrows. "Could you read it to me? I'm not sure if I'm getting the message right."
The Major read it with a clear voice.
"TO SISTER EDITH HOLLAND STOP CHARLES HOLLAND SAFE STOP EVACUATED TO AUSTRALIA STOP IN NO DANGER STOP."
"So I was reading it correctly!" Edith beamed.
"Yes. Your brother is fine," Major Burrows said, with an uncharacteristic grin.
"I suppose this must be from the War Office."
"It doesn't say, but I would assume so."
"Oh, thank you Major. I must write to my parents. I'm sure they must have got a similar telegram. They will be so happy."
She ran out of the room and found some paper to write to her mother and father.
Dear Mum and Dad,Can you believe the good news? Charles is safe! I had to get Major Burrows to read the telegram to me, I couldn't believe what I was reading. It is so wonderful, considering what I thought only a few hours ago. Oh, there is so much more that I want to say, but I cannot concentrate long enough to write it all down. I have to tell my friends the good news. They have been so worried for me. I hope you are well. How can you not be after this news!
Love always,
Edie.
She hurriedly put the letter in an envelope which she addressed and sealed and then raced downstairs to tell May and the others the good news.
Posted on Saturday, 6 July 2002
Edith got a reply back from her parents must faster than she would have expected. She'd assumed they would have been so happy with the telegram's news that they would not have written back straight away. Still, she did not mind the prompt reply and took herself for a walk in the woods to read it. Its contents, however, surprised her greatly.
Dear Edie,Your father and I are most confused by your letter. Have you heard something about Charles? We have not received any telegrams, as you appear to have done. All we have heard is the official reports on the wireless that Singapore has been lost. Is Charles truly safe, or has he been captured as a POW? We are very confused. Please write as soon as you can to tell us everything you know.
Love,
Mum.
This was shocking. How could they not know that Charles had been evacuated? Their telegram must have been misplaced or lost somewhere along the line. After all, the War Office wouldn't just send the news to her, a soldier's sister.
She re-read the letter to see if there was some other explanation for the misunderstanding. She was interrupted by the sound of a car approaching on the road to her left. The car slowed and stopped in front of her and Mr. Darcy got out of the driver's seat.
"Edith, how are you?" he asked immediately.
"I'm alright. You're back then?" Edith was still unsure of how she felt about Mr. Darcy.
"Yes," he said, "for awhile. Look, I wanted to apologise for the way I acted at the dance. It really was most inappropriate."
"Apology accepted. You never really answer Dave's insinuations though, did you?"
Mr. Darcy was confused. "I'm sorry, I don't really remember."
"About your military service, or lack of it," Edith reminded him.
"I don't see what that has to do with anything," he replied cagily.
Edith had had enough. "William, you act as though you want to be friends with me, but friends trust each other. They don't keep secrets."
Mr. Darcy was silent.
"So, are you going to tell me?"
"I can't," Mr. Darcy replied quietly.
"Can't or won't?" Edith retorted. Again Mr. Darcy made no reply.
"Fine. I'll take that to mean that Dave was right, that you're not involved in the war effort. Well, apart from donating your house to the cause, which is very generous, since you're never here."
Mr. Darcy just stared at the ground. Edith was about to walk off when she thought of one more thing to say.
"You know, if someone knew about those German books in your library and all these secret trips to London, they could be easily forgiven for thinking you were working for the other side."
"Before she could allow Mr. Darcy the chance to defend himself, she marched off deeper into the woods. Mr. Darcy kicked the tyre of his car in frustration. Then he decided to go after her.
Edith walked for over an hour. She was so angry and frustrated. If he had opened up to her about his brother's suicide, why wouldn't he tell her about his war service, or lack there of. It wasn't as if she would have minded that he was not a serviceman. Plenty of men had reasons not to join up. Maybe he had a health problem. Actually, the more Edith thought about this the more it seemed likely. Maybe he had psychiatric problems after his brother's death. They might not be serious, but in a wartime situation, in a battle, he could be a liability. Still, the military were so desperate for numbers, surely they would have given him a desk job somewhere rather than turn him away.
There was always the chance, as Dave had suggested, that he was a conscientious objector. After all, he had been to university and her father had always said that universities only taught people to criticise the King and parliament and that many of the students were communists.
Whatever the case, the fact that he refused to tell her truth was the most frustrating part.
When he decided to follow her, Mr. Darcy had unfortunately taken a wrong turn and so he and Edith had ended up on divergent paths. He was just about to give up and return to his car when he saw Edith walking away from him. She had not seen him so he called out her name. She didn't respond so he tried again.
"Edith!"
This time she heard him, but refused to turn around. He had one last attempt to get her attention. Sighing, he asked, "Did you get the telegram?"
Edith turned around immediately. "Pardon?"
"Did you get the telegram?" he repeated.
Edith paused. "How do you know about that?" she asked, her anger transforming into burning curiosity.
"Because I'm the one who sent it," Mr. Darcy admitted.
Posted on Friday, 2 August 2002
How could he have sent it? Edith thought to herself. "That telegram was about my brother. How do you know what happened to him?"
Mr. Darcy replied slowly. He could not go back on the truth now. "Because I got the information from the War Office."
Edith didn't stop to take this information in. "So why didn't the War Office send the telegram?" she asked.
"Information on individual troop movements isn't available to just anyone in the Office. I had to get a friend to find out for me. To be honest, he was lucky to track your brother down. It sounds like it's chaos down there."
"But if this information is privileged, why would your friend tell you about Charles Holland. I mean, as far as he knows, you have nothing to do with it."
"When I said he was a friend, I should have said he was a subordinate." He continued before she could interject. "I'm a Captain in the Army, and I run an intelligence sub-branch. I got my Sergeant to find any information he could about your brother when Mrs. Jones told me how worried you were."
Suddenly, Edith began to feel that she had been treating Mr. Darcy unjustly again. She could tell she was going to have to do some serious apologising soon. But first she wanted to appease her curiosity a little more.
"Intelligence? I don't understand?"
"We gather information from across Europe and pass it on to the War Office chiefs."
"Information from spies?"
"I really can't say too much about it."
"But your language skills have come in handy after all."
"Yes, I do a lot of translation work."
"So that book your were reading in German, was that full of secret information?"
"What? Oh no, that was Faust. I just like reading Goethe."
Edith shook her head and laughed. "But why are you always coming and going between London and Pemberley?"
"Different groups work at different times. The idea is to make as little disruption to our normal lives as possible. That way, hopefully, no one will ask too many questions."
Edith blushed. "Unlike me," she said ruefully.
"That's right."
"I'm so sorry," Edith said apologetically. "Everything I do, I seem to make a complete fool of myself."
"It's alright. When I started this job, I thought I was lucky that I didn't have anyone who would ask awkward questions about what I was doing. But since you've been here, well, my secrecy has been in danger."
"I'm sorry. You probably wish I'd never come to Pemberley."
"Not at all. Actually, the whole time I was in London, I couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again."
Edith stared, completely astonished. Mr. Darcy continued.
"Edith, I know we didn't get off to a good start, but...well...do you think we could start again?"
Edith smiled. "Only if you promise me one thing?"
"Of course."
"No more secrets! Promise me you'll always tell me the truth all of the time. No more misunderstandings!"
He laughed. "I'm more than willing to agree to that, but you must promise something in return."
"Sure."
"Please, no more jumping to conclusions. I don't think I can take any more attacks to my character. I'm not the most confident person at the best of times, and it's been difficult dealing with being accused of being a murderer, a coward and who knows what else in the space of one year."
"I'm so sorry..."
"Oh, and no more apologising. Considering the behaviour of both of us, I think we're about even."
"Agreed."
"Good. Now, I don't suppose you know how to get back to the road from here, because I am completely lost."
On their way back to Mr. Darcy's car they talked about the dance and what a disaster it had been.
"I couldn't believe my eyes when Dave walked through that door. He was the last person I was expecting to see that night," Edith said.
"Maybe you can explain something to me. If your engagement to Dave was over, why was he pretending that he was still your fiancé?"
"I have no idea! It was his idea to break it off in the first place."
"It sounds unusual sort of behaviour to me."
"Well, in Dave's mind it seemed completely normal. He said that he's changed his mind and that he wanted to get married after all. It didn't cross his mind that I might have other ideas."
"Hmm. He seems very...confident in himself," Mr. Darcy said.
"You mean arrogant. It's okay. I would agree with you there. Anyway, with any luck, I won't ever see him again."
"What happened to him?"
"His squadron moved on, out of Derbyshire." Edith had a realisation. "You know when you and Dave had that...scuffle and you hurt his neck, was that some secret way of attacking the enemy or something?"
"Edie, I work in an office all day. I'm not a commando." Edith seemed slightly disappointed. "No, that was a move that one learns when one has an elder brother who is in all ways physically superior. Pressure point, you see. Anyone can do it."
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if John was still here?"
"Of course. But in the end, I've ended up doing exactly what I wanted to anyway, even if it does mean putting up with nosy nurses who don't know their place."
From this day, their friendship truly began, this time on an equal footing. When Mr. Darcy eventually had to return to London, Edith was no longer suspicious. In fact, she felt almost proud as she imagined Hitler's plans being stifled by the decoding work of this young man from Derbyshire, the master of Pemberley.
She quickly responded to her mother's letter once she knew the truth, although she was somewhat evasive in her answer as to how she had got this information. It didn't matter. Her parents were overjoyed just to know that their son was indeed safe. In time they received a letter from him themselves, although he had no idea that they were already aware of his escape from danger.
Major Burrows and the nurses under his command were kept busy for the duration of the war. Edith's surgical skills came in handy more than once. She also continued to visit the local people in Lambton and around Pemberley with May. They constantly called on Mrs. Perry, who almost always was suffering from loneliness rather than anything more serious. The old lady still insisted that Pemberley was haunted and perhaps even was cursed. Edith just smiled, but in her heart she thought that if there had been a curse, it had probably moved on by now. Surely the Darcys had suffered enough.
William had given her the privilege of reading the diaries that he had once caught her reading in full. She was amazed that the mistresses of Pemberley had had enough time to record so much of their lives. Despite the sadness, there were also happy times, with family and friends, and each woman in her own way, had changed the course of the family forever.
The end of the war came and eventually Pemberley was decommissioned as a hospital. Major Burrows and the nurses all returned to the homes and lives that had been theirs before the war. All except one. For Edith, the end of the war meant the beginning of a new life. William had proposed to her via telegram - since it had obviously got his message across before. This time there was no confusion over who had sent the message, and the offer was most readily accepted. They married in the family church, next to the cemetery when he had once confessed the truth to her. On the occasion she received from him the present of a diary, to continue a tradition that had started long ago. The great house returned to its pre-war routine, but this time there were no ghosts. It was as though the owners of Pemberley past finally felt at rest.