Section I, Next Section

Chapter I

Posted on Monday, 25 July 2005

“Now are you sure Lizzy?” Charlotte’s words reverberated in my head, for what must have been the hundredth time that morning. Taking a deep breath and staring up at the huge townhouse, I was suddenly incredibly unnerved. I laughed lightly, since when had I ever been timid or afraid of new circumstances? No, Miss Elizabeth Bennet had never backed down without a fight and this was not going to be the first time. I turned around and addressed Uncle Gardiner’s driver, “Will you wait a moment, please? My bags need to be unloaded.” Though the words were polite enough there was a clipped soberness about them, I could hear the rudeness of them and thought to make an apology for such abrupt ill-mannered behaviour so I turned to smile ruefully.

“Very good ma’am.”

My knuckle rapped hesitantly against the servants’ door and then I took a step away from it, contemplating bolting like a deer. Before the opportunity arose the door was opened, a young footman surveyed me, not saying a word. It was slightly unnerving; he waited patiently for me to speak. “Good afternoon, I’m Elizabeth Bennet, would you be so kind as to take me to Mrs Turner.”

He didn’t speak; just shut the door in my face, I felt all the rudeness of it! Never in my life had anyone behaved in such a manner, quietly I stepped inside, swallowing the prideful feelings that had risen within my breast; I could not behave so now, it was not my place to expect such deference. Within the space of a few minutes the door had been re-opened to reveal a plump, good natured looking middle aged woman, she smiled affectionately, “You must be Miss Bennet.” I nodded my head, “Well come along in deary, it’s a nippy day, you’ll catch your death standing on that cold step all day.” A grin broke involuntarily from my solemn face; the lady’s mannerisms reminded me of our old housekeeper, Mrs Hill.

Stepping inside I was lead to a chair by the kitchen fire and invited to sit whilst Mrs Turner bustled about, gently scolding the footman for not retrieving my belongings whilst moving about making tea. “I declare it’s mighty chilly out there, it’ll be a cold winter I’ll wager.” She muttered tsk-tsking like a friendly mother hen. “Sugar?” she queried handing over a cup and saucer. I gratefully sipped at the warm beverage, whilst Mrs Turner continued to bustle around about occasionally stopping to instruct a maid or two.

Finishing up the drink, I began to observe the room, it was large. A huge wooden work table was placed in the centre, copper pots and pans hung from the walls and ceiling, along with herbs that were being dried out. There was not one but two agar cookers heating the room with a large pan of water boiling on them. A scullery maid was chopping vegetables and another washing the breakfast dishes, both looked tired and drawn.

Mrs Turner bustled back into the room and I politely rose from the chair, “Now, sit ya down, sit ya down!” Mrs Turner instructed mildly, gently pushing me back into my seat, “I’ll just have all your belongings settled in your rooms and then I’ll show you up there.”

“Thank you.”

“Bit quiet aren’t you? You’ll need a lot more assertiveness about you if you want to go teaching those children anything.” I tried to smile politely at her assessment of my character; few people would ever describe me that way.

“How many children are there?” I asked politely, there had only been a brief correspondence between myself and the housekeeper, which had been enough to decide on the date of my arrival and wages. I would be receiving 45 pounds a year, and that was very good pay for a governess.

“Three. Two young ladies and a little lad, but he’s still young.”

“Shall I have the pleasure of meeting them today?” I inquired.

“I shall take you to the nursery later this morning, when you are rested.”

“I do not need to rest I have only traveled perhaps four miles, from Gracechurch Street.” Mrs Turner seemed to insist that I would still require rest, despite the short distance of my journey. I did not want to tell her that I was not at all fatigued especially since I had been known to walk almost as far. A maid returned and informed Mrs Turner that the room was prepared, and after convincing Mrs Turner I was well enough rested we set off at a brisk pace. The house was in relative silence, the servants worked unobtrusively. The only sound was of Mrs Turners very sturdy boots clacking along the wooden floor. She guided me up several pairs of stairs and across the landing of the servant’s floor.

“Your room is next to mine,” she indicated to the door to our left, and informed me that the Housekeeper’s sitting room was open to my personal use too, should I want it, “You are perfectly welcome. It can become mighty lonesome, with just myself and Mrs Chambers in the evening, especially since neither of us can thread a needle any longer.” She indicated for me to enter, and then followed inside. The room, although not luxurious, was nicely fitted, with a bed, armoire, chest, chaise, writing desk, bookshelves and a small piano forte. Whilst I observed all this Mrs Turner began to untie the ribbon on my bonnet and unbutton the front of my plisse for me and hang them up, as if I were a guest. “I’ll send Elsie up to unpack for you.” She said as she turned to leave.

“That’s quite unnecessary I assure you.” I began to say but the door had already clicked shut, sinking down gratefully onto the chaise I looked about again. The room as I mentioned was very comfortable, one could not wish for better, it was as large as my chamber at Longbourn and contained everything that I could want for, that did not however mean that I was either resolved or content to be here.

Just how had I ended up here anyhow? How had Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the country gentleman’s daughter metamorphosed into an impoverished governess working in London? It began with a tour of Derbyshire, with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner fifteen months ago now. In Bakewell we received a letter from Jane, which informed us that Lydia had eloped with George Wickham. Once I knew this, I insisted that we return home immediately, knowing that Mamma’s nerves would be wearing everyone thin. Upon reaching Longbourn we learnt that Lydia and Wickham had not eloped (well not traditionally anyhow) they had not gone to Gretna Green, and it was believed that they were in London. By this point everyone was frantic with worry, Lydia was so foolish and something told me that Wickham’s intentions could not be honourable; surely if they were he would have asked Papa’s permission.

That fear was only heightened when rumours of his debts in Meryton began circulating, not just debts to the tradesmen, but gambling debts. Worse than that debts of honour! I can still recall Aunt Phillips’s voice, “They say there’s hardly a tradesman in town whose daughter hasn’t been meddled with!”

“Oh sister! And now he’s meddling with our dearest girl!” Mamma wailed pitifully, that was the moment I became certain that all hope for Lydia was truly lost; a man of no fortune could only want one thing from a girl such as my youngest sister. Indeed he took what he wanted and that was enough for him.

Whilst we were being shunned by Meryton society, Uncle Gardiner and Papa were in town searching for Lydia and as the months went by things steadily became worse. Mamma’s health was beginning to fail. At first she had not missed a meal, but slowly her appetite began to decrease, then her weight, she hardly spoke and her good looks slowly began to depart. Papa was much the same; he would return to Longbourn occasionally, weary, drawn and lacking in humour. Mary’s studies became, if possible even more studious, Jane lost her smile, I knew that the light in her eyes would never return not after this, and Mr Bingley’s desertion of her. Kitty had always been sickly, but surprisingly she became a lifeline, faced with the realties of Lydia’s actions she became more serious, more mature. Kitty helped me support the family through it all. She flourished without the influence of Lydia.

Kitty and I took care of Mamma and ran the household, Jane was invited to London by Aunt Gardiner after we informed her of Jane’s situation, and it seemed the best thing to do. It relieved our burden slightly, but only for a while, as not long after we began to feel like terribly selfish sisters’.

In February Mamma passed away, quietly, it was so out of her character that it made her passing all the more poignant for us.

Father returned home again in mid May looking even more despondent than before, he tried to lock himself away in his library but Kitty and I insisted on speaking with him. We were well aware that being alone was not any good. He began berating himself for being a bad father; I started to cry at that, it was Kitty that comforted both of us. She rose from her seat and kissed our father’s brow exclaiming that he was not a bad father. “You are a good girl Kitty, but I fear you shall never be a sensible young lady if you fail to see your father’s failings!” The three of us laughed, but the sound of approaching hoof beats stopped us short. An express had arrived.

Unsealing the letter, Papa read quietly to himself whilst Kitty and I eagerly awaited the news, watching as he read it was clear the news was not good. He turned deathly white and eventually dropped the letter. “What is it Papa?” Kitty asked urgently, there was no response at all; it was as if he couldn’t hear a word that was being said to him. Picking up the letter I read it aloud to everyone:

Gracechurch Street, London, May 12th 1813

My Dear Brother,

At last I am able to send tidings of my niece. The news I fear is very poor, and will undoubtedly shock you exceedingly. There is no gentle way to break the news. Mrs Gardiner suggested that we search the poor houses, as you are aware and my search began yesterday upon your departure. Two were visited to no avail. Neither of the superintendents had heard of or seen a girl matching the description or the name of Lydia Bennet.

Disheartened I began to walk away when a young girl, barely a child stopped me, her name she told me was Bessie, not sure what quite to make of her, I did however inquire of her business with me. She only asked that I follow her. I was lead down a back alleyway and into a house. By the fire was a basket with a baby. She informed me the child was Lydia’s natural daughter.

Not inclined to believe her I began to turn away, she comprehended my motivation and stopped me for an instant, saying that I must believe her. I inquired after Lydia again, Miss Bessie once more insisted the baby was Lydia’s but refused to tell me of Lydia’s whereabouts. Eventually I was able to withdraw the information that my niece, and I am sorry to inform you of this, is dead. Miss Bessie handed me a note from Lydia explaining the circumstances, I will not trouble you with the details, however, arrangements need to be made for your granddaughter, Rachel.

While I understand that you have just returned from town, your presence is required here once more to deal with certain matters, we shall expect you soon. Jane is most upset but sends you her love, she refuses to see the baby.

Yours &c Edw. Gardiner

The letter from Uncle Gardiner was not thoroughly read at the time. Kitty and I were both to distracted by our father, his breathing was shallow, his face pale, and he was clutching his chest. We called for the butler to aid us, just as Papa collapsed onto the floor, he was carried upstairs and the doctor was summoned. All this was useless however, within minutes our dear Father had suffered heart failure and had died.

Mr Collins, the insufferable man was in Meryton within days, Charlotte, being slightly more sensitive had remained at Hunsford, although perhaps that was due to the fact that she was in the last stages of her confinement. He tried daily to condone us. Kitty refused to see him, and I confess to being anything but pleasant to him. Only Mary thought his motives pure. If Mamma had been there she would have said that he was “Viewing it all as his furnishings and property.” I even found myself making that very same comment, however ridiculous it was.

Aunt and Uncle Gardiner arrived with Jane and the baby to support us and offered to take us all to town when we had to leave Longbourn. Mr Collins was generous enough to let us stay till he had cleared up his affairs with Lady Catherine and Charlotte had her child and was well enough to travel. Mary refused to come with us; she had decided that her life was unsatisfactory; instead she journeyed to France, and joined a convent! Undoubtedly it would suit her very well, from what little we have heard from her once since she left England, it does seem to be the case. Kitty distressed by the news of her favourite sister’s death, and under Mary’s guidance she seemed to find solace in the church. Though not in the same was as Mary, Kitty it seemed found comfort in our minister’s nephew, Mr Jonathan Thursfield. They announced that they planned to be married as soon as our deep mourning was over, and he had taken his orders.

After Kitty and Mr Thursfield married they removed to his new living and rectory, in Somerset, with Rachel, who Kitty adores. Jane agreed, to go with them, not knowing what else to do now that our parents were both dead, there was nothing left for her to do it seemed. While I refused to sit pretty, so to speak, and live off the charity of relatives. Thus I decided to take up a governess’s position.

Mrs Turner contacted me after I had Uncle Gardiner place an advertisement in the paper. Charlotte said she would write to Lady Catherine DeBourgh when I informed her of my plans, but I didn’t think I could face it. I couldn’t face Mr Collin’s either, she offered to let me stay with her at Longbourn and help her take care of the baby. She could not stand the thought of me working as a governess. To be perfectly honest, working as a governess is not my idea of fun either, and certainly not in the city, but I am earning a living. I have food and a home, what more could I want?

There are things I know I should probably regret now, like refusing to marry my cousin Mr Collins, perhaps we would not be in such a disastrous state. My sisters and I would all have a home and although Lydia would still undoubtedly have gone to Brighton. Even if I’d married Mr Darcy, although I shudder at the very notion, Lydia could not have gone to Brighton then. And trusting Mr Wickham, why did he seem so trust worthy?

“Excuse me Miss…” A quite voice at the door way whispered. I looked up to see a girl around my age, her hair was flaming red and her eyes vivid green and despite her freckly skin, altogether she was very pretty.

“Yes?”

“Mrs Turner sent me upstairs Miss to see if you required any luncheon, since you have been traveling and the like.” I grinned again at the housekeepers determined pampering.

“No, no it’s perfectly alright. I don’t require anything, thank you erm…”

“Elsie ma’am.” Said the maid bobbing a quick curtsey.

“Thank you Elsie, I’m Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Thank you Miss Bennet. Mrs Turner says that I’m to unpack your belongings for you, is that to your approval ma’am?”

“Yes, yes, would you like some help.”

“No, I mean I don’t mind ma’am.” She replied nervously, as if unsure I should be doing the servants work, where as I was uncertain that I could make use of the servants like a family member.

Elsie was a very pleasant girl, she was smart and quickly understood any instructions I gave her, and she was in possession of a quick wit as well. She was able to mime Mrs Turner exactly; I thought I would burst from laughing. She gossiped about the other maids, though it was never out of spite. She told me about Alice, her sister, “And she’s such a flirt ma’am like I never did see afore, she’s set her cap at Joseph, but she don’t know…” She stopped, blushing. Not liking to pry I simply raised my eyebrow, for I didn’t wish to upset her when it seemed we were becoming such good friends, as I understood it servants were not exactly welcoming to those such as myself, somewhere between the family and the hirelings although as I saw it since I was receiving a wage I was one of them too. By two o’clock our work was finished, my bookshelves were lined with books Mr Collins had permitted me to take from Longbourn, for you know he never read novels! Sheet music was piled on top of the Spinet and gowns were hung away. Elsie bobbed a quick curtsey and said she would inform the housekeeper we were done. Suddenly I felt extremely tired and I lay back on my bed, before I knew it my eyes closed and I had fell asleep.

At just past three I was woken by a faint tapping on my door, after checking my appearance in the mirror of my dressing table, and quickly re-arranging a few curls, I opened the door, “Begging your pardon Miss Bennet, but I thought you should like me to introduce you to the children now, since it is very near their tea time, would that be to your liking ma’am?”

“Very much so, I thank you.” I replied as I, followed my elderly companion out of the room and along the corridor at a relatively slow pace.

“I fear they’ve been quite troublesome to Mrs Chambers and Martha today, what with all the excitement.” I raised my eyebrow again; surely they could not be in such raptures because of my presence? Seeing my querying expression she continued, “The master and mistress return from their grand tour of the continent tomorrow, they’ve been gone a full year.”

“The continent, how lovely that must have been.” I expressed that one thought, but not my true opinion of absent parents who leave their children for a year or more to pursue their own pleasures, and leaving their children to the care of just the household staff, “Then the children have been quite alone, I can imagine they must be enthused by their return.”

“Oh no Miss Bennet, not quite alone for the master’s sister has been here most of the time, but she has gone away for the month as well.”

Any more conversation we might have had ceased as Mrs Turner opened the door to the day nursery. The room was large and very comfortably furnished, with books, dolls, tea sets, toy soldiers, a Noah’s Ark, a baby house, and hobby horses. There was a sharp looking old woman was dosing in a chair by the window and a young nursemaid tidying up. The three children were quietly seated on the floor, the two girls involved in dressing their dolls and the little boy with his fortress. “Cupid is coming.” the eldest girl began.

“How is he coming?”

“He’s skipping,”

“He’s striding,”

“He’s stomping,” Added the boy joining in.

“He’s strolling,”

“He’s singing,”

“No Roberta, he can’t have come singing.”

“Why not?”

“Because singing isn’t a way of moving silly.”

“But it ends with an ‘ing’!” Little Roberta argued, then turned, I presume to ask one of the elders if it counted, it was then she noticed myself and Mrs Turner standing in the door way and gasped, drawing her sisters attention as well. The eldest quickly rose to her feet and smoothed out her skirts then instructed her brother and sister to stand as well. Roberta ran forward to Mrs Turner, “Can Cupid come singing, Mrs Turner, can he?”

“Why yes I do believe he can.” She smiled indulgently at the little child, “Now children,” she began, “This is your new governess, Miss Bennet. Miss Bennet, this is Miss Priscilla Sutton, Miss Roberta Sutton and Master Thomas Sutton.” I curtsied to them all.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Bennet.” They chorused as Priscilla dropped an elegant curtsey. Roberta wobbled slightly while attempting to curtsey and Thomas made an attempt to bow but it was more of a bob. The noise awoke the nanny snoozing and she and the nursemaid made their way over. I was introduced to Mrs Chambers, she was a tall woman and reminded me overall of a red hot poker, her very demeanour taught me instantly who ruled the roost in this nursery, if I had been younger I may have trembled but I knew how to hold my ground with people more powerful than myself, Lady Catherine DeBourgh being a prime example. Martha, a young girl of no more than perhaps sixteen, was a complete contrast to Mrs Chambers, she reminded me of a mouse, with straw coloured hair and dull brown eyes, little and plump.

While I was absorbed in my own analysis, the children were gazing at me curiously. “Miss Bennet’s pretty, isn’t she?” Roberta asked whispering to her sister.

“Her dress is a very ugly colour!” Declared Priscilla, smoothing out her pristine white frock once more, I glanced down at my grey muslin, it was an ugly dark shade, but suitable for mourning clothes.

“Miss Bennet,” I felt a tugging at my hand and looked down at little Thomas, “Will you play soldiers with me?” I was more than pleased by this suggestion, having no brothers we had not had a set but I remembered playing it with Charlotte’s younger brothers.

“I would love to Thomas.” I consented.

“However, Master Tom,” Here Mrs Chambers cut in, “It is very near your tea time, I suggest you and your sisters go and wash your hands, Martha, go and see that they do so properly please. Miss Bennet, shall you stay for tea?” Again I replied in the affirmative.

I stayed in the nursery over tea, followed by tonic, and played a quick game of soldiers with Thomas, before the girls commandeered my time to help them rearrange the furniture in the baby house’s drawing room; it was surprising how much time that task required. At five o’clock dinner was served. Thomas at this point had a tantrum and refused to eat his boiled fish and boiled potato. He only quieted down when Mrs Chambers ordered Martha to fetch laudanum. By half past six the three children were tucked up into bed.

Upon returning to my own chamber I sank back down on the sofa and contemplated going back to sleep. My head was starting to pound, I hadn’t though children could be so troublesome, if it hadn’t been for Thomas’s fit of temper I should have been quite fine. Instead I found myself rubbing my throbbing temples and sending down a note to ask for my own dinner on a tray that evening. Elsie brought my tray up for me, with a cold compress inquiring after my health. I assured her that I would be quite well after a good nights sleep and regretted having had a chance to come below stairs, she said that it was quite unfortunate as all the other girls had looked forward to meeting me as well. When she left me she offered to come up the next morning to help me dress, “Mrs Turner said it’d be helpful to ya.” She added quietly, indeed it would be most helpful, Jane or one of our maids had always helped me dress before now and I was certain that if I was to meet the Mr and Mrs Sutton I would need to appear well turned out, so as not to give a bad impression to my new employers.

Although I had never been of a frivolous nature, the following morning I spent an abnormal amount of time deciding what I should wear. Discontented with the black bombazines and crapes, now trimmed with lighter colours; or the muslins and batiste in greys, mauves, violets, purples, pansies, doves and heliotropes, Miss Priss’s words from yesterday rang in my head “Her dress is an ugly colour.” Combined with my desire to make a good impression I inevitably found my eyes wandering to the pastels, creams and whites which I knew became me far better. With a sigh of dissatisfaction plucked grey muslin trimmed with lilac and Elsie arranged my wayward curls, taming them with matching lilac ribbons weaving in and out. The servants had all breakfasted by the time I made my way downstairs and whilst I ate alone I was informed by Mrs Turner that the master and mistress would return by eleven o’clock. The children had a holiday today, I did wonder briefly why I had come at all until later in the week, but instead asked if it would be convenient if I had them assembled in the East sitting room at half past the hour.

At the designated time of Mr and Mrs Sutton’s arrival I had the children wriggling excitedly in the sitting room, Mrs Chambers and Martha had been good enough to see that they were all impeccably dressed and spotlessly clean, but children are not supposed to stay clean and soon enough their excitement had prevented them from staying still Thomas had a smudge of dirt on the side of his nose, “Thomas come here and let me clean your nose.” He obediently moved towards me but squirmed as I rubbed hard, before I had finished he had escaped my grasp and was dancing around excitedly once more. At this point I offered to play Taboo with them stating that the letter ‘D’ could not be used.

“An animal that has wings, Thomas?” Began Priscilla.

“A bird, Bobbie girl’s clothes?”

“Spenser, Priscilla, a girl’s toy?”

“A baby house, Thomas what do you do to music?”

“You sing! What do you do with crayons and paper, Priscilla?”

“Write, Bobbie people with pistols,”

“Fight, Miss Bennet, who’s higher than an earl?”

“A…a Marquis.” I grinned after nearly getting caught out by a six year old, “Tom, what do gardeners do?”

“Plant flowers, Bobbie, what animals bark?”

“Dogs!” She cried then suddenly groaned as the other two shouted triumphantly. Thomas began jumping again and pulled his sisters hair, the ribbon coming loose along with a few grips and all her hair came down. Now I confess I’ve never been very good with hair and after attempting unsuccessfully to return it to the original style, I began to braid the long, thick mousey coloured hair, my fingers working nimbly as the children began another round with the letter ‘T’ their voices raising with excitement.

Just at that moment I heard a voice, raised in anger, “That is enough madam!” I assumed that this was the master and mistress and quickly told the children to sit still and behave, Priscilla and Thomas, sitting on either side of me, with Bobbie on my lap my head bent over my work as I tried to make her presentable. Too late I heard the door open but did not look up. The other two rose from their seats and I felt Roberta straining to go and greet her parents as well.

A woman with a cold voice spoke, “Hello, my dears.” Considering she had been gone a year she hardly sounded enthusiastic, “Oh no Thomas, desist from your activity it shall crease my new gown.” Roberta impatient for me to complete my task, but also I was determined to finish, just so I could see this woman.

“Oh yes, I do believe you’ve grown Priscilla, I’m not certain though.” She said weakly. Really, this woman called herself a mother! I placed the last grip into the plaited braided bun and tapped her head.

“There you are Bobbie, all done!” I declared as she kissed my cheek affectionately and hopped off my knee. I stood up ready to look at the new faces before me.

No! I stopped. It couldn’t be? I looked at the face staring purposefully at me. What in the world was he doing here?

Chapter 2

Posted on Monday, 1 August 2005

My first impulse was to run, but I was frozen to the spot, unable to move an inch. I could feel my face quickly flushing bright vivid red, as my gaze continued on him. His stare remained steadfastly fixed on me. My only consolation was that he was blushing too. He was the first to recover, “Miss Bennet.” His voice shook ever so slightly and he managed to bow, breaking the uncomfortable eye contact.

“Mr Darcy.” I returned dropping a slight curtsey, whilst twisting my hands uncomfortably. “I… I did not realize, sir.” I succeeded in muttering out incoherently.

“Oh are you two acquainted?” The woman interrupted excitedly.

“Why in some respect yes. Let me introduce you, Miss Bennet, my erm… Lady Arabella Darcy. Madam, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the children’s new governess.” As he said these words his voice got lower and lower. The usual pleasantries were exchanged by her and perhaps I returned them as civilly as I could, for truly I was so embarrassed that I could not remember.

The next thing I knew I had bolted out of the room and up the stair case, back to my rooms. Once there I began impetuously dragging out my trunks and flinging my belongings into them haphazardly. The only coherent though was that I must leave, immediately, without fail. I could not bear to be in this situation, in front of that man! It was just too mortifying. The only viable option was that I leave – for I too have my pride and to be in the employ of my spurned suitor was more than I could possibly bear. I could not leave with my head held high. To remain here in this house, in his presence everyday with him gazing at me! Mocking me! It was just more than I could live with. There was a timid tapping on my door and I recklessly bid entry, “Miss…Miss Bennet, Master Darcy would like to see you in his study, if you please ma’am.” And quickly she ducked her head out of the door, clearly shocked by my wild behaviour, for she must have observed the state of my room. She awaited me outside, for quite some while, for I needed to calm down before I could possibly face him, have a conversation with him. Impossible!

He angrily bid us entry to his study and I found him with his back to the room, staring out the window. A stance I was well familiar with. I had seen him thus on many occasions, and always when he was discomposed, he would glare out of the window until his temper had subsided. I stood and waited for his discomposure to pass, he was silent and so was I. While waiting I wondered what he was thinking, and which of the two of us was more mortified by our present situation. “Miss Bennet.” He began in his usual stern manner, “Perhaps you would like to explain to me how it is that you came to be on my payroll?”

“I am truly very sorry sir, you… you must believe me that I was unaware that… you see I thought… that is to say… I did not realize… my apologies sir.” Oh, how was it he always succeeded in vexing and agitating me so.

“Miss Bennet, your apologies are not needed, nor were they requested, I would like an explanation and I am accustomed to receiving what I demand.”

“I thought, sir, the Sutton children they are not yours.” Was my ridiculously stupid reply.

“Indeed, I am a perfectly certain the last time we met I did not have any children ma’am, your intelligence continues to astound me!” He replied icily, I rose from my chair, after everything I had said to him in the past he still continued to treat me like…like a speck of dirt. “Sit down Miss Bennet, until this has been discussed you shall not leave this room, do you comprehend?”

“With all due respect sir, our notions of a ‘discussion’ seem to be operating on vastly different levels. I will not sit here to be talked down to by you again. I do not have to remain here and suffer under your scrutiny or opinions. This discussion, as you call it, is one we have covered before and I for one do not intend to repeat it.”

“I believe Miss Bennet you have a job to do. I also believe that since you are now most decidedly my inferior it is not your place to continue to challenge me at every turn, you shall do as you are instructed.”

“You are mistaken Mr Darcy, there is no reason for me to remain here, to live in such conditions, I shall leave immediately!” I declared irrationally.

He began pacing and I envisioned another scene, very similar to this one from a year and a half ago. He was stomping about the room in that infuriating manner after I had refused his paltry attempt at a proposal of marriage. I had not seen him since then, and I was thankful for it. But, now we were acting in exactly the same manner as always, it was insufferable and at the same time it was amusing. I laughed in fact I confess that I was close to hysterics. “Miss Bennet I fail to see what can possibly amuse you so much at this very moment, I believe I said once before that I disapprove of everything in life being rendered ridiculous at a joke.”

I suppose he thought me to be laughing at him. I suppose in such a situation as he was in, he too was fairly mortified. I however, had no thought for him because I too was mortified beyond belief and if I did not laugh at the situation I would have been in tears and I was never going to cry in front of Mr Darcy. Besides what did I care for his opinion of me? I have never desired his good opinion. “I’m…I’m sorry sir.” I managed to gasp, “It is just… well do you not find it slightly amusing.”

“No Miss Bennet, I do not find your conjectures amusing in the least bit. And I would urge you to desist so we may continue our discussion in a sensible manner.”

Looking up to face him, stifling a giggle I could perceive some pain in his eyes and thought again how my behaviour must appear. Cruel. That is the only word that fitted. In my opinion it seemed wisest to laugh at the situation. To him it more likely looked like the cruel sentiments of the scornful woman who had once refused him. He was a proud man, I should have known better than to laugh. Looking down at my hands and closing my eyes, I took a few calming breathes preparing to tell him my thoughts, “Sir, it is just that our ‘discussion’ is taking a similar bent to the last one we had and well I am certain it is not one either of us has particularly wanted to repeat. I was not laughing at you Mr Darcy.”

He winced, perhaps that was not the best thing to say but it had to be said, “Miss Bennet, that… incident is not something I want discussed in this house ever and if you chose to remain here then perhaps you should abide to it.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now can we agree to remain cordial to one another or would you prefer to leave? I can procure you another position if you desire.”

I swallowed and scowled slightly, unsure how to respond, would he prefer me to be gone, I supposed he did, “I will defer to your wishes sir.”

“If you agree to abide by certain rules then I am certain that we can inhabit the same house in an amicable fashion.” He returned coldly.

Although angered that it should all fall upon my shoulders, and that once again the wretched man was acting haughtily believing himself above any sort of reformation I consented to his wishes. For to return to Gracechurch Street after only one day was a weak and needy action, and Mr Darcy was not going to scare me off that easily. It seemed some of my old pep was returning to me again. Thus I asked him what exactly my role would entail. He told me he wanted me to teach the children. The girls needed to learn music, geography, history, the modern languages, sewing, a little accounting, drawing if I could. I assured him I knew the basics and had some little sketches and imitations with me however; I certainly could not claim to be a proficient. In turn he assured me it was not necessary and a master would be hired for a particular subject when my knowledge had been exhausted. Thomas needed to be taught the rudiments too; all that was required there was to teach him to read. I was informed a tutor would be hired when the time came for his education to be broadened, in Greek, Latin and so forth. “I can read a little if you want me to show him the basics.” He looked a little astonished by this, no doubt he was of the opinion that women didn’t need to know such things.

“You astonish me Miss Bennet, who could have taught you such a thing?”

“My father taught me, sir.”

“Ah, I forgot you never had a governess, was your father trying to raise five independent young men.” I bristled, was he trying to say something about my family’s behaviour, undoubtedly for if I recall we were all uncivilized, uncultured savages. I opened my mouth to start another argument with him, fortunately, or maybe unfortunately there was a knock on the door interrupting us and omitting the butler entry to the study.

“Excuse me Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy has arrived just this minute.”

“Thank you, Evans. Miss Bennet that shall do for now, the children’s presence shall be required this evening after our dinner. I should like you to join us.” And with that he left, without giving me a chance to answer.

Since the children had been given a holiday I was left with the afternoon to myself and I had nothing to do. My belongings had all been arranged, I had written to Jane and the Gardiners the evening before to inform them of my safe arrival. The letter had been sent so I couldn’t add what had transpired to it. Instead I decided to write to Kitty and her family; she knew something of the past level of my acquaintance with Mr Darcy and in some respects was more in my confidence now than Jane anyway, I had not wanted to burden her with my problems in the months she had been in London.

After that was completed I puzzled over what to do next, I didn’t want to disturb the rest of the family by using the library or the forcing my presence upon the children, since I was their governess I doubted that I was the person they most wanted to see on a holiday. Instead I set about working on lesson plans for the children. Thomas was easy, a hornbook and copybook or slate could be acquired somewhere in the house. I had gathered from Priscilla that she had had a governess before now but that although Roberta had learnt to read she had no other learning. I would start simply with her, and she was only six perhaps I would check her reading writing ability and then teach her to stitch and Priscilla I would set to work on a sampler. It was then I discovered that I didn’t have any samplers to show her so set about work on a new one. While working I ruminated on my current position again. Would I be able to tolerate living under the same roof as Mr Darcy everyday for an indefinitely long period of time? I supposed I would, doubting that we should come into daily contact anyway, Lady Arabella did not seem overly interested in her children and he was not their real father nor had he chosen to adopt them as his own. I would endure this for as long as I possibly could, determined not to be scared off by that man.

By mid afternoon, the sampler was half way to completed, the flowers, birds and curlicues at the top and running down the sides were finished, save a small section which I intended to demonstrate on as well as half the alphabet, all the upper case letters were stitched in and the lower case had not been started, for the same reason, the verse would be left until a later date as it still had to be selected. It was growing dark so it was laid aside till a candle was lighted or I would work on it during the evening.

My meal that evening was eaten in Mrs Turner’s rooms along with Lady Arabella’s maid Marie who spoke incredibly broken English and Mrs Chambers, who was the most abominably rude woman in the world! We were joined for coffee by the butler Mr Evans, the first footman, who everyone called James, but whose real name was Robert and Frasier, Mr Darcy’s valet, apparently his steward was married and always ate with his family.

After returning to my rooms to dress for the evening in the drawing room, once again I puzzled over what to wear. My agonies were saved by a knock on the door and Elsie again made an appearance, thankfully. For an inexplicable reason tonight I wanted to look pretty and the colours presented to me all seemed so ugly, because they were a reminder of the ugly truth of my current situation, they were there to remind me that not only were my mother and father being mourned, but also Lydia. Mr Collins once wrote in a letter ‘her death would have been a blessing in comparison.’ Would it have been preferable to mourn Lydia if she had not died in disgrace? Was that an unkind thought?

Elsie selected a dress for me finally, it was an heliotrope batiste. The rich purple colour became me quite well it was trimmed with black and Elsie wove ribbons of both colours into my hair which she arranged in smooth ringlets. She chattered away quite happily for the greater part of this time, “An’ you still haven’t met all the girls yet, Miss Bennet, ‘tis a shame you had to go to the Pugs Parlour to eat….” She abruptly trailed off blushing fiercely, almost the same shade as her hair. “Beg pardon ma’am.” She muttered quietly.

“For what Elsie?”

“My tongue ma’am I’m sorry for bein’ so impert’nent, Mrs Turner said I ought’ be more careful.” Sensing Elsie concern I sought to reassure her.

“Elsie, have no fear of me, I am just the same as you.”

“But here you are dressed all fancy and ready-in’ yourself to go down and sit with the family for the evenin’ and here’s me talkin’ to you like a chambermaid.”

“I’m not really spending the evening with the family, I’m watching the children. Mr Darcy certainly wouldn’t consider me as being in his company, he made that clear.”

“Oh no ma’am I’m sure he didn’t mean it, he’s the kindest master that ever was seen, I declare!” Again her tongue began to get the better of her and she blushed at her forwardness. She couldn’t speak again after that. It seemed Mr Darcy had an admirer! Because if not, there was no plausible explanation that she should think well of him; well in my opinion anyway.

The children had been allowed to stay up later that evening, instead of retiring at half past six when their parents would eat their evening meal they accompanied me downstairs at eight o clock, quietly and well presented, the girls again decked out in white and blue and Thomas in blue also, they looked very sweet. Somehow they managed to stay seated while we waited for the entrance of the Darcy’s but there was a significant amount of wriggling going on too. They amused themselves with dolls and a single toy solider while I set to work on my sampler; I had selected an appropriate verse while pondering on my position that afternoon:

As I set about working on this Roberta and Priscilla questioned what I was doing. This time when the door opened I quickly rose from my seat to greet the three Darcys to be promptly introduced to Miss Georgiana Darcy, she was on a larger scale than I and not as handsome as her brother, the few minutes which were spent saying how nice it was to meet her convinced me that she was only shy not proud as Mr Wickham had said, I should have known better. Why should anything that man said be trusted? Once again that day I cursed my stupidity, how could the words of that man still be listened to as if they held credibility after all that had happened, yet still I seemed to think there was veracity in his words.

The brother and sister settled down both with a book and the children scampered around their mother for a few minutes until her complete lack of interest deterred them, in fact she lacked interest in anything, she sat on a sofa alone back straight looking around listlessly, occasionally plucking at the silk folds of her skirt or adjusting her hair style. After about half an hour Mr Darcy went out the room and several minutes later Thomas’ fortress and all his soldiers were transported downstairs. He aided Thomas in setting them up whilst on his hands and knees and remained there by the fire to play with him. They made a pretty picture, one could almost have assumed they were father and son but for the great contrast in their colourings, the Sutton children were all fair compared to Mr Darcy, whose dark curls I had always admired. Priscilla and Roberta walked over to the window seat where I was working and tugging my sleeve Roberta asked me most politely to play with them. Mr Darcy looked up when he hear the inquiry “Don’t disturb Miss Bennet if she is busy girls.” He said in an unreadable tone, “You can come and play with Thomas and myself if you like.”

“Soldiers are for boys, sir.” Roberta exclaimed making the funniest face and causing both him and me to laugh. Stopping short I realized I’d never heard him laugh before and recalling Colonel Fitzwilliam’s words about him being ‘lively enough in other places’ I resented that never before seen this side of his character , for he was more likeable when he laughed.

“There’s no need, if the girls want to play then I shall join them, truly my work is not that important.”

“Disagreeing with me again Miss Bennet?”

“As always sir.” I laughed and sat down with the girls. Miss Darcy’s astonished gaze followed me and remained steadfastly upon me, it was almost as unnerving as her brothers. However, unlike his hers were questioning looks of awe in her face, almost as if she were astonished that I should be so impertinent to her brother. Her book lay on her lap completely forgotten, “Shall you not join us Miss Darcy?” She nodded her head and cautiously came to join us on the sofa we were placed at.

Young children have an astonishing ability to ‘make-believe’ but it is one of those characteristics which become lost with age. So whilst Priscilla and Roberta were quite content to babble away in nonsense to the dolls there was a definite need for sane conversation on my part. Talking to Miss Darcy proved quiet difficult all I received in answer was a monosyllabic ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Instead I recalled that it was only polite to inquire of Mr Darcy after common acquaintances, of which there were not many, but I was most interested to hear of Mr Bingley, but thought that it may be easier to begin else where so tactfully I inquired after Colonel Fitzwilliam. “He is well thank you Miss Bennet; he is on the continent at the moment with his regiment My Aunt and Uncle are slightly concerned for him, but he will be back by August. No doubt unharmed as he always is.” Smiling slightly at this news I saw that he was not. That was quite possibly the longest sentence the man had ever uttered in a civil conversation, yet he looked for a second as if he had said too much or that he was angered by something.

“And Miss Bennet how is your family?” Lady Arabella suddenly joined and husband and wife both turned to glare at each other. It was one of the most difficult moments I had ever experienced.

“Quiet well thank you.” I answered stiffly. Hoping fervently that we would not have to go into great detail about the current situation of my family, the drawing room was not the place to discuss it and most certainly not in front of the children. This was certainly not a polite topic of conversation.

“You are in mourning.” She observed rudely. Goodness, surely this was not Mr Darcy’s definition of good breeding, for if it was it seemed all she had done was stand in front of a mirror and recite, ‘niminy piminy.’² Looking over at him to see how he was bearing under such a display he once again wore his mask of pride so it was impossible to understand what he was thinking but knowing the man well enough I was almost certain that he was not accustomed to bearing with such displays. Why Lady Arabella was nearly as bad as my mother had been on occasions.

“Yes.”

“Who…”

“How are your sisters Miss Bennet?” Mr Darcy quickly put in, evidently trying to stop his meddlesome wife.

“They are well thank you, sir. Kitty is married and settled, to a clergyman.” I added purposefully.

“Your mother must be quiet proud.”

“I’m sure she would have been.” I commented a look of understanding crossed over his face.

“I’m sorry, and how does Miss Bennet do, Miss Elizabeth?”

“She is…erm,” How could one tell him that she was much worse than the last time we had spoken? “She is living with my Aunt and Uncle at Gracechurch Street.” He looked puzzled at my choice of the word ‘living’, “Longbourn has passed to Mr Collins, sir. I am surprise Lady Catherine has not informed you.”

At the mention of that lady his face clouded, it seemed that was not the best thing to say. Then I realized why, Mr Darcy was to marry Miss DeBourgh I imagined all contact with her had been broken on his marriage, due to her ladyship’s disapproval. That meant that he did not know about my current situation and now probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up. “I am very sorry to hear that Miss Bennet.” He commented stiffly and then closed his mouth completely; it seemed that our conversation was at an end. Thankfully, although would it be better to reveal the truth to them sooner rather than later. It would not do to think they had been deceived and the master of propriety himself would deem me a disgrace. It would be best to get it over and done with before becoming too attached to the children. Because, no doubt I would be turned out of the house before you could say Jack Robinson. Tomorrow, I would ask for an interview with him and reveal Lydia’s disgrace to him, then return to Cheapside with well, no dignity in tact, But, surely that was the least of my concerns. I should have left this morning when given the option, surely he did not want me here anyway, but then he said that he did.

“Do you have two sisters then Miss Bennet?” Lady Arabella interrupted.

“I have fou… three sisters, ma’am.” Out of the corner of my eye Mr Darcy’s head jolted up and he had a most queer expression on his face.

“Can you not count Miss Bennet, should we be concerned that our children’s governess is unable to calculate?” She laughed annoyingly at her own joke, but it was more like an attempt to conceal her rude comments. It seemed that the lady had at least some breeding although she was close to being of the Miss Bingley breed, yet somehow worse.

“Madam!” Mr Darcy passed his hand over his forehead then got up to stride to the window and stare out of it again. There cannot have been much for him to look at it was pitch black and even the street lighting did little to aid one’s vision. She paid him little heed and continued on with her inquisition, thoughtlessly.

“Tell me sir, since you two are passed acquaintances you should advise me on how many sisters she has.”

“Four is that not correct Miss Bennet?”

Sadly I looked down at my hands and began to fiddle nervously with my fingernails. Now we were coming to the point. I shook my head and the room was silent, continuing to look downwards. Miss Darcy passed me a handkerchief, thinking that it was needed shaking my curls with a quiet ‘thank you’ followed by several deep breaths my eyes ventured upwards to look Mr Darcy in the face. He looked a little flustered, a little astonished. Lady Arabella for once looked interested in her surroundings; apparently she had a penchant for gossip, but then again there are very few women who do not. The children, evidently aware of the adult’s curiosity had fallen silent and although they looked up occasionally they for the most part were more interested in their toys than anything else. Maybe the conversation would be left now. Surely it would other wise go beyond the bounds of politeness.

“I think you must be incorrect for Miss Bennet proclaims she has but three, sir. What have you to say in defense of your mistake?”

“It was four, I am certain you had four sisters.” He stated looking incredibly distressed and shaking his head, “Miss Bennet, then you, then Miss Mary, Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia.” He counted them all off on his fingers then looked at me as if for some form of approval or agreement. Personally I had no desire to continue the conversation and thought he had understood that.

“Indeed I did sir.” I murmured quietly. “Lydia died in May.”

His eyes widened, I think both of us were recalling our memories of Lydia, the strong, stout vigorous young girl, who was forever running around the countryside chasing officers to flirt with. For these images would have been both mine and Mr Darcy’s last images of her. They hardly corresponded with an early death. “I am very sorry.” He muttered.

“Was she ill Miss Bennet?” Again Lady Arabella inquired thoughtlessly.

Now how was one expected to answer that? “No.”

“Then how, was there some sort of accident.”

“No” In my mind it was an accident, but somehow I did not think they would see it the same way as I did. Lydia should never have been allowed to go Brighton, and then she should have been properly chaperoned. The Forster’s and Brighton had been an accident waiting to happen.

“Surely it must have been…”

“Madam!” Once again Mr Darcy attempted vainly to stop her onslaught of questions. However, it seemed she was impervious to his orders and only turned to give him a stately glare. I could not help but feel a little kinship with the woman, despite my dislike of her. Any woman who could defy the overbearing Mr Darcy was worthy of respect, even if, as his wife, it was not her place.

“Surely it must have been one or the other.”

“Miss Bennet…” He sounded very cross. What had I done wrong?

“No, no. It is only right that we know our governess’s situation, sir.” She brushed away his terse words. ‘Only right’ indeed, Lady Arabella was one of those ladies who could smell gossip at twenty paces it appeared, for before she had not been half so interested in the welfare of her children. It was at this moment that I knew there would be no way of escaping this; she was like a hound on the trail of a fox. I was the fox and about to die the most horrible of deaths. Taking a deep breath I took the plunge.

“My sister died in child birth.”

There I had said it.

“Was she very young, it must have been a great loss for her husband?”

“Lydia was but sixteen.”

“How positively horrible for her husband, still girls of such a young age should not be married.” My head dropped downwards again and my cheeks flushed, it was impossible to reply, “Pray tell me how old was she when she wed, she cannot have been much more than fifteen?” She waited for an answer, looking expectantly at me the whole time.

“’Tis shameful to admit, but she never married ma’am.”

Well that was an effective silencer. It appeared Lady Arabella’s onslaught had finally been stopped; she looked a bit like a fish as she sat there gasping for air. “Never married!” Eventually came out of her mouth in a slightly suspicious accent, “Pardon me,” she corrected herself, “never married?”

“She was full young and her companions did not take proper care of her, she was persuaded to elope.” Whilst I was desperately trying to defend my situation Miss Darcy who was sitting besides me stiffened, Mr Darcy glanced over at her, quiet pale about the face as well. For a man who betrayed very little of his feelings he had certainly reacted incredibly violently, surely he could have expected something of this manner from my family. He had been a witness to Lydia’s behaviour whilst at Netherfield. I was quiet confused.

“But she never married.” By now Lady Arabella was sitting forward eagerly in her chair. She coughed delicately, “May one inquire after who the worthless young rake was.”

“Madam!” Once again he tried to chastise her. “That is hardly a polite question. Quiet enough had been said on the subject. Miss Bennet, my sincerest apologies.” Goodness, Mr Darcy apologizing to me!

“No, sir, it is I who should apologize. You should hear this. You must understand that Lydia eloped with Mr Wickham.”

It was aimed as a sort of truce between the two of us, an open acknowledgement that it was I who had been in error of my opinions, which had been so openly spoken to him. For Mr Darcy had been right, Wickham was not a trustworthy man, Mr Darcy was and his warning should have been observed. That was the intended effect, in fact though it was quiet the opposite. Miss Darcy gasped audibly, paled and made to rise from the space she occupied on the floor, next to myself and the two girls, she appeared close to tears. And Mr Darcy had actually gone whiter, in anger then suddenly green. Perhaps it had not been my wisest decision ever. Seriously though, what had upset them so, whilst I was aware that he disliked the man, understandably, Miss Darcy seemed positively terrified and not just of my words but of me. “Miss Bennet,” He addressed me sternly, “would you play for us.” That was an order that would certainly be obeyed. It was probably to be the last as well, except for the one where I was told to pack my bags.

“Miss Bennet, do you need a page turner?” Roberta, spoke excitedly. About to accept he interrupted me,

“No thank you Roberta, you may turn Miss Bennet’s pages another evening. Georgiana,” Miss Darcy who had been slinking silently out the drawing room stopped dead, “would you be so kind as to turn Miss Bennet’s pages.” The sister silently nodded and then followed me over to the instrument, showing me where the music was kept, after several minutes of rifting through the sheets looking for something to play I found one that was suitable. Sitting down and testing the keys before singing:

1. From Patty Coggeshall’s sampler of 1792.
   
2. Little heard nowadays, it was used to deride an affected mode of pronunciation. It was first recorded in the late eighteenth century play, The Heiress 1786 by General John Burgoyne 1722 – 1792. In which Lady Emily tells Miss Alscrip that to acquire the right fashionable manner all you had to do was stand in front of a mirror and repeat ‘niminy piminy,’ then, ‘The lips cannot fail to take the right plie.’
   
3. Julius Caesar Scene III Cleopatra, solo con guardie Cleopatra: ‘E pur cosi’. Aria: ‘Piangero’ George Fredric Handel.
   

Chapter 3

Posted on Monday, 8 August 2005

As it happened, there was no summons to Mr Darcy’s study the next day, nor any message from Lady Arabella instructing me to return to my relative’s home in shame. In short I was left to get on with the job of teaching the children, with very little interruption. My life was quiet, but little more could be expected as my only regular society was that of the children and Mrs Turner. My regular day was always the same. At seven Elsie came and helped me dress before I would make my way down to the House Keepers rooms for breakfast. At half past ten Priscilla and Roberta’s lessons would begin, at first I concentrated my efforts on only a few things, reading, writing and embroidery. Having always thought, that history, geography and such would be too much to exert on young minds that were not in the habit of regular training. The lessons would break at midday when the children were given bread and cheese to eat and after Thomas awoke from his nap. Mrs Chambers or Martha took them out to the park in the square for a walk and some ‘fresh air’. During this time I was permitted to employ my time as I chose, occasionally making use of the library but more often than not returning to my rooms. Lessons began again at two in the afternoon till half three when the children broke for tea, this is when my presence was no longer required and I would occupy myself until my evening meal was served. My evening would be spent in Mrs Turner’s rooms with the upper servants mostly. Once a week the children would be sent for in the drawing rooms, other than that they saw as little, if not less than I did of their parents.

The children were sweet, for the most part though not without their idiosyncrasies. Priscilla had or would have had an affectionate heart had she spent time with a parent. She was always eager for her mother’s attention or approbation, though it was rarely bestowed. The child took after her mother too, she cared far too much about her ‘toilette’ she refused to wear brown calico pinafores over her dresses as she declared the colour far too ugly. “Mamma would never be seen in such a beastly thing!” It seemed fruitless to forbid it. She took after her mother in more ways than one. She was listless, it was rare that she could be made to concentrate for more than half an hour on a task, yet she was clever and a good pupil if made to apply herself properly. Eventually I won the argument over the pinafore when I taught her to write in a pen and ink using a copy book, on several occasions she spilt ink down her front and despite finding that it was a good excuse to shirk her lessons for a while because she went to go and change. Her tactic soon stopped when the gowns returned from the laundry still stained with black ink. “Miss Bennet,” She looked at me solemnly when she came in one morning, “from now on I shall always wear my overalls.”

“Why would that be Priscilla?”

“Because four of my gowns are quite ruined and Mrs Chambers says that I cannot have anymore. I am very sorry for not listening Miss Bennet.” She spoke stiffly.

Roberta was a far more complying pupil, although she did not have the intelligence of her sister, she was by no means stupid. Where as Priscilla was clever and understood immediately, Roberta required more assistance in learning, perhaps because she was younger. However, what she lacked in her mind was superseded by her willingness to try and her affection for everyone and her creativity. She did not excel in the more academic subjects but her needlework was neat and tidy soon she had finished a sampler with a very pretty little verse she selected herself. I had promised that after Christmas I would teach her pianoforte and she was more eager that Priscilla to learn. “It is lovely when you and Aunt Darcy play for us Miss Bennet, but it is best when you sing too.” She exclaimed wriggling about on my lap.

“Then no doubt you shall become as proficient as Miss Darcy is Bobbie.” I laughed at her eagerness, as a child I had been much the same but my parents had never pressured me to learn, or to practice, besides which Mary spent the greater part of her time on our instrument.

“Oh no Miss Bennet, I want to play like you.”

“Do you indeed! Well then you shall not be a very accomplished young lady, for I play quite ill, your Mamma would insist that you play better.”

“But Papa likes your playing, when you play he watches you all the time.” Blushing at what Roberta had inadvertently allowed to slip about Mr Darcy (who it was so strange hearing called ‘Papa’) I managed to stutter something in reply.

The amount of time that was spent with Thomas was limited; Mr Darcy had said that his lessons would not begin until after Christmas, shortly after his fifth birthday. So I saw him only intermittently throughout the day, when he barged into the school room determined to show his sisters something or other. He was something of a handful at times his sprits were somewhat exuberant, particularly when he was taken for a walk in the park and prone to out burst of temper which ran poor Martha off her feet. He was sweet though, he had already declared to me that when he grew up he was going to marry me. I laughed out right at this, “By the time you are grown up I shall be an old maid Tom.”

“But you’re such a nice lady.” He lisped

“Surely you will dance with plenty of young ladies at balls and marry one of them.”

“Urgh!” He stuck out his tongue, “Girls are silly.”

“Does that mean that I am not a girl?”

“Yes!”

“Well, what am I then?”

“I don’t know, but you aren’t a lady like Mamma or a girl like Priscilla or Bobbie.” He frowned a little and then went back to playing with a wooden dog.

Their mother, Lady Arabella was just as I had first supposed. She was a society lady, with nothing better to do with her day than worry about the latest fashions and gossip. She had little to no interest in her children they were left to eat breakfast alone and were summoned into her presence once a week when for the hour we were there she ignored them blithely. Little interest was shown in anyone unless they were the source of some scandal, in which case she found an infinite source of delight in gossiping about them with her sister Lady Augusta Arbuthnott, the Countess of Newlyn, they were like two peas in a pod, that had been the impression they gave on the one occasion I had met Lady Arabella’s sister. Sometime I wondered at Mr Darcy’s decision to marry her, for she seemed just like every other woman of my acquaintance it did not seem possible that she had met with Mr Darcy’s exacting standards. Unless she was very clever. Equally hard to comprehend was why she had married him, for she had security. Thomas was the heir to his father’s estates and fortune why would a woman of eight and twenty re-marry? But then who was I to speculate on his decisions.

Mr Darcy? Well now he was more of a puzzle to me than he had ever been. I was more confused than ever by his actions. As Roberta had pointed out to me he continued to stare at me! It was so infuriating, for I could not understand it. At one time I had thought it to be a look of scorn, then after his proposal realized that is was tinted with a look of what I assumed to be love. So then why would he stare at me now? Why when I had refused him and he had wed another? The only possible explanation was that he saw me as being at fault. From time to time I thought him a little more amiable, yet there was that in his manner that confused me still. With the children he was far more affectionate than his wife; he played with them, occasionally visiting them in the nursery. He had quite the admirer in Roberta, who would always sit on his knee and give him a kiss, she referred to him a ‘Papa’ where as the others called him father, some times I wondered why she liked him so much but then Roberta seemed to like everyone. From a conversation quite early on I had managed to determine that at present Mr Bingley and his sisters were not in the country, but I had some hope that the situation between Bingley and Jane would soon be resolved.

“Miss Bennet, you have a letter.” His voice interrupted my reverie as I sat at the table next to Priscilla who was puzzling over some figures.

“Papa!” Roberta, who had been diligently writing jumped from her seat to greet him, taking his hand and dragging him into the room, I grinned, she was such a dear sweet child. He sat down in her chair and then picked her up and placed her on his knee looking down at her indulgently.

“You have post Miss Bennet.” He repeated handing it over to me, “I was on my way up here already when it was delivered so I thought this would be quickest, and it would save the footman a journey too.”

Taking the letter out of his hand I looked down at the return address, “Oh ‘tis from Kitty.” Finally, it had taken her three whole weeks for her reply to my missive, I did not know her to be so negligent but then she had married only a week before I arrived here, no doubt she was busy. Slipping it into my pocket to read later I looked back up at the rest of the room.

“What are you two girls up to today?” He asked still looking at me, I turned away blushing as they informed him of their current occupation. Priscilla got out of her seat.

“Priscilla, where are you going now?”

“To show Father the sampler, which I finished yesterday.” She said proudly running off to the sowing baskets which were kept in the corner.

“Fetch Bobbie’s too then.” I instructed knowing that Priscilla would be unwilling to show hers next to her sisters, which was the superior of the two, for Priscilla always liked to be best. She presented them both to him laying them down flat on the table.

“My, these are fine; we shall have to have them framed.”

“Which do you like the best Father?”

“Oh! Well…” He looked at me desperately for an answer. “They are both very good.”

“They shall be covering screens in no time.” I added slyly.

“But you must say which one is the best, Father!”

“How much help did Miss Bennet give you?”

“Hardly any.” Priscilla drew herself up straight, in truth she’d had a fair bit of help getting started and her curlicues were still rather wobbly.

“And you Roberta?”

“Not much, did I Miss Bennet?”

“No, Bobbie’s very good at embroidery and I dare say sketching and drawing too.” I smiled at her.

“Well I am glad to hear it.” Roberta leaned up to whisper something in his ear and he laughed, “I should compare them with Miss Bennet’s sampler, really!” He raised an eyebrow at me. Before I knew it Priscilla was out of her seat again and returned baring an old piece of cloth, groaning I knew exactly what it was. I had had Jane search out old samplers from our belongings, to show Priscilla my first meager attempts, and cheer her up when she was having difficulty with hers. Mine was very poor indeed, the flowers and birds looked like…well lets just say when Mamma saw it she nearly had a fit, particularly when compared to Jane’s.

“Now which one is best?”

“I like them all equally,” he said, “Priscilla’s is very tidy, Roberta yours has flair and Miss Bennet’s… it has a lovely verse.”

“Very diplomatic I’m sure sir.” I laughed, “Can you actually make out the verse?” I asked impertinently.

“Of course I can: ‘The industrious bee extracts from ev'ry flower, Its fragrant sweets, and mild balsamic power, Learn here with greatest care and nicest skill, To take the good, and to regret the ill.’ Are you questioning my abilities to read?” He asked me with a smile.

“No indeed, for I was once informed that you never neglected your library at Pemberley, sir.”

He regarded me silently, earnestly as if unsure of how to reply, that was the second time in a matter of a few minutes I had brought up the conversation that we had once had at Netherfield to tease him, surely my impertinence was misplaced, in front of the children and all. How could I be so foolish? So abominably rude to the man who had shown such a great kindness to me by taking me into his home after all that had passed between us. I looked back up and he was still watching me, “I’m sorry sir. Thank you for delivering my letter. Bobbie, where did you leave your primer?”

“Is Papa going to listen to me read?”

“If you want me to I shall stay Roberta.”

He stayed and listened to Roberta read in a stilted voice a dull little story about Mamma taking James and Annabelle to the park and reading a passage from the bible to them after James complained about something or other, although normally he was a very good a virtuous little boy. And while the three of us listened I checked through Priscilla’s work carefully. When she had finished they were excused to leave for their break and Mr Darcy rose to leave also. He walked to the door then turned back. “Miss Bennet, I came as an ambassador not a diplomat, yours and the children’s presence is requested this evening at the usual hour.”

I sat back down again in the window and opened my letter from Kitty. It was a fairly lengthy package, with the envelope another sheet written right through.

Millwood Cottage, Nr Caltringham, Somerset
December 2nd 1813

My dearest Lizzy,

I must apologies for not writing sooner, but I must confess my time has been most agreeably engaged, do not think however that I mean you are less important than those of us here but there has been much for me to see and do, this will no doubt be a lengthy letter, but the whole morning has been set aside for that purpose.

Firstly I believe that I must condone with you, imagine ending up in the care of Mr Darcy, you must be quite uncomfortable I know that I should be truly embarrassed to be living in his home but not as his wife after refusing the position so adamantly. And how does he behave? As if it had never happened I suppose, it is not the type of thing he would want his wife to know, certainly I would quite despise it if Jonathan had a woman in the house he once professed to be violently in love with. It is at least a hundred times worse to be in you position though, how you must long for a confident. Does Jane know everything? You two are so close, so I suppose she must. How are Jane and all the Gardiners?

You are all sorely missed, but there is plenty to make up for it here, both my dear Thursfield and Rachel keep me so well occupied. Jonathan and I have been becoming acquainted with all the parishioners, they are a very friendly crowd, once a week I visit the sick and the poor with care baskets and they are all quite thankful for it, Rachel pines for me when I go on these visits because I have to leave her with our maid, for she is still sickly, but I believe she is improving. Jonathan says it is the fresh sea breeze, but we are quite in land here, do you think he is teasing, for you know I never can tell. He teases me all the time, particularly about my cooking, last night we had burnt offerings again. Fortunately once, maybe even twice a week we are invited to dine at Thursfield’s friends’ (or should I say his patron’s) home, Lord Tyndale, is a most gracious his, his sister and mother likewise and they make sure that both ourselves and Rachel are well cared for – Lord I sound like Mr Collins. He is a very agreeable young man, Jonathan, who knows him from Cambridge, says you will quite like him, no Lizzy I am not matchmaking, I have quite outgrown that phase, however, it would sound very well to introduce you as my sister the Countess of Tyndale.

Another household matter which plagues me is the accounts. I cannot seem to make them workout at all. Papa would be disappointed in me. I was working through them the other day and there is twenty pounds which I cannot account for. It will not sit anywhere and I cannot make out where it came from. Jonathan says I am not to worry about it. But I cannot help but worrying, twenty pounds is a great deal of housekeeping money, perhaps I have forgotten to pay someone for something. Then the will be quite cross at me. Oh what a poor housekeeper I make! Burnt food and poor accounts, Jonathan shall wonder why he ever married me.

Rachel, as was mentioned before, is improving in heath, although still not at her best. At present she is little ill-tempered, the poor dear has started teething, and she is drooling and biting everything she can lay her hands on, I have to keep telling her that books are not for eating. I confess I am a little worried that her teeth have gaps in them, I may write to our Aunt Gardiner for advice. She is growing quite attached to my husband as well whenever he comes into a room with her in she bounces up and down, no wonder for he is quite the doting Papa, the other day he gave her some building blocks to play with, unfortunately instead of making towers she chews them too and when I say no the little monster just laughs at me. She is growing quite vain to and has become enamoured with her reflection in the windows, she is much like her mother in that respect and I predict she will grow into quite the beauty. I told her that I was writing to her Aunt Elizabeth and she sends you all her love.

There is a young widow living in Millwood Village, Mrs Blythe lives with her two young daughters, Emily who is three and Amy who is a few months Rachel’s senior. I quite pity Mrs Blythe her husband was a Colonel and died in France, they had no estate and there was only an adequate sized fortune on her side, she and I call on each other quite often, she reminds me very much of a cross between Jane and Charlotte, you shall like her very much as well. Mrs Blythe regularly advises me on how I ought to look after Rachel and I am quite pleased that Rachel will have such a good play pal when she is older, Rachel and Amy sit on the floor quite contentedly when we visit, and Miss Emily plays with them too. Everyone here is so welcoming and I am quite glad of it.

It shall be Christmas soon, I have discussed this with Jonathan and we would be much obliged if you and Jane and the Gardiners would come down to Millwood to visit us. It will do you good to get out of London, the air in town did not agree with me much and I have very little desire to go back there, and I know how much you love the country Lizzy, you must miss it greatly especially as there is nowhere for you to walk in Town. Do say that you will come; it will be pleasant to have the family together again. Has anyone heard from Mary recently? She must quiet envy me marrying a clergyman; she would certainly enjoy helping to write sermons with her spouse, although my dear Thursfield’s would hardly be considered her cup of tea. Please say you shall come.

Your affectionate sister Kitty Thursfield & Rachel.

PS. Maria Lucas sent me a letter last week; she sends her greetings and love and hopes that you are all in good health. I might invite her down soon. She says she spends a lot of time with Charlotte and baby Lucy, who Mr Collins still insists on calling Catherine!

After reading the letter through twice I chuckled, although Kitty had grown up there were still some definitively ‘Lydia-esque’ phrases in the letter particularly the comment about Mary, but it had all been meant in good humour. Certainly I would visit them for Christmas, it was quite true that I longed to escape London, with all its bad air and confinement, and I wished just as much to see my niece and the happiness of my sister and her husband. Kitty was correct it would be pleasant for the family to be together again, it was just a shame that this year it would not be at Longbourn and in absence of both my parents and Lydia, also there would be no Philips’s there. Or at least this is what Kitty’s missive seemed to imply, Aunt Philips had always been a great favourite with Kitty so I wondered at this but then surely the parsonage would not have that much room, it would be quite a squash anyway.

The afternoon was spent as it always was with little or few interruptions I went for a walk with the children out side in the squares pleasure grounds and returned to lessons then dinner. At eight that evening the children and I went to the drawing room to await the entrance of their elders. Thomas and I were quietly reading The Butterfly Ball together, the girls making artificial flowers and wasting gold paper, Miss Darcy headed straight for the pianoforte, Mr Darcy his own book and Lady Arabella her typical pursuit of nothing although this evening she seemed troubled by a cough. And thus we continued for quite some time, with no conversation only the gentle tinkling of music, the murmur of my voice and the girls’. At one point Roberta and Priscilla did present their mother with an artificial flower which she graciously took then laid aside, Miss Darcy and myself were far more willing, their Aunt Darcy exclaiming that she would have it put it a vase and I allowed them to arrange it as a decoration in my hair.

“Miss Bennet, is your sister in good health?” Mr Darcy broke the silence and after establishing that he meant Kitty I told him that yes she was in the highest of spirits judging by her letter and that Rachel seemed to be making good progress too by all accounts.

“She has asked me to visit them in Somerset over Christmas if that is acceptable to you.” I had planned to go and see him in the morning to speak with him about a leave of absence but now seemed as good a time as any, after all Lady Arabella did deserve some input into the decision too for they were her children and she should decide how long their holiday should be.

“Yes of course.” Was his only reply and after a brief pause, “Where is Mrs Thursfield situated in Somerset?” Roberta who was still playing with my hair at this point, tugging at the curls so that they would spring back into place looked up in interested and spoke.

“Papa, Mamma, don’t we live in Somerset and Uncle Tyndale?” A bell went off in my head; could I not escape these people?

“Lord Tyndale?” I asked slowly.

“Yes indeed, my brother the Earl of Tyndale. Surely you are not acquainted with him?” Lady Arabella seemed to have found something of interest to her.

“No not personally, he is my brother, Mr Thursfield’s patron. I believe they went to Cambridge together.”

“Oh then it is settled, you will not need leave you shall stay with us at Allcotte Abbey.” Lady Arabella continued.

“But Fitzwilliam…” Here Miss Darcy spoke for possible the first time in my presence.

“I thought we had decided we were going to Pemberley for Christmas?” The all commanding voice stated.

“You had decided, for I still wanted to journey to Allcotte to visit my brother and now Miss Bennet will be in that part of the country for Christmas, there is no sense in her traveling all the way up to Derbyshire at all. We had just as well stay in Somerset so she will not have to travel at all.”

“We have not seen Pemberley in a considerable amount of time; the estate cannot be neglected any longer.”

“And it is nearly as long since we have been away from Allcotte.”

“Your brother is in close enough proximity to observe the work carefully, I have not that advantage.”

My they argued almost as admirably as Mr Darcy and me.

“The weather in the north is quite bitter, it shall ruin my complexion.”

“You never leave the house anyway, unless it is to make social calls or go out shopping and as you have so frequently pointed out there is not a great deal of society in Derbyshire for you to amuse yourself with or that you believe deserve your condescending presence, though goodness knows why you should even think that they are all your equals in status and they are your neighbours they do not deserve your scorn.” Mr Darcy stated angrily.

“They are all angry and bitter old women trying to marry their daughters off, to you sir.” Lady Arabella responded.

“You have no reason imaginable to be jealous of them so why do you act so. And madam might I point out that one of these days it shall be you trying to marry off your daughters, probably to the very same families you now scorn!” He raised his voice, in a manner he had never done when we had argued.

Quickly I rose from my seat, looking pointedly at Miss Darcy as I gathered the children up to escort them out of the room, now was certainly not the best time to have them present. As the door clicked shut behind us Lady Arabella’s voice crescendo to the same volume and as we hurried the children along the hallway. Miss Darcy softly singing a nursery rhyme with them as Lady Arabella said, “It is not as if I asked for daughters!”

Miss Darcy led us to a second music room, the one she used in the day when there were callers in the house, and it was quiet and did not adjoin to the drawing room. We amused the children, keeping them distracted with simple duets that they could sing along to if they wanted, effectively blocking out the noise their parents were making. Poor Miss Darcy looked incredibly nervous, her fingers were actually shaking, where as the children. Thankfully seemed completely oblivious to it and I took over and taught them a comical song from the opera The English Fleet in 1342:

They only really got the hang of the parts that needed repeating but we laughed over the pickle we made out of the song. When we did manage to keep the children in tune they did sound very sweet and even Miss Darcy seemed to relax a little. This was the first time since I had met her that she had not been formal and cold with me. There is nothing as relaxing as being around happy children. We had just finished another rendition and absolved in to fits of boisterous laughter. Our merriment was interrupted by a round of applause from the doorway, and there stood, Mrs Turner, Evans and Mr Darcy who was wearing a grin that would certainly rival one of Mr Bingley’s. Never before had I seen him so at ease and it astonished me. Especially considering he had just moments before been in a heated argument with Lady Arabella, as usual he seemed completely unaffected by everything. Miss Darcy stepped forward eagerly and he took her hands in his squeezing them. Did I mention that he was always a very good brother? He leaned in and whispered something in her ear, a small, tentative smile inched across her lips, “Pemberley in January?” She asked and he nodded his head.

“Yes my dear. Now are you five going to perform for me again?”

We gathered back around the instrument and he came in and took a seat while Evans and Mrs Turner left the room, to return to their duties. Our performances were as bad, if not worse than any previous to this but we enjoyed ourselves why even Mr Darcy laughed, although I found that somewhat unnerving, the tables had been effectively turned and I could not like the feeling of being laughed at by him, even if it was all in good spirit. When we had finished that and Ring a Ring O Roses and Rock a By Baby, from Mother Goose's Melody² he rose once more from his seat and suggested that it was time the children retired since it was already long past the usual bed time. Just as I was about to leave the room he stopped me and said, “Miss Bennet, the offer to stay at Allcotte Abbey still stands, it is not more that 10 miles away from Millwood.”

“Thank you, sir.” I replied as I turned to leave, “I shall consider it.”

“Good night Miss Bennet and thank you.” He returned bowing his head in a slight acknowledgement, “Goodnight Priscilla, Roberta, Thomas.” He said as he kissed them all on the head and they all bade him good night as well along with their Aunt Darcy.

“Good night Fitzwilliam, I believe I shall retire too.”

“As you wish, my dear.” He kissed her forehead too. I lead them all up the stair case and escorted the children to the nursery, handing them over to the care of Mrs Chambers before returning to my own rooms. Elsie came in to help me prepare for bed and after blowing out the candle I lay back and thought of my up coming holiday. Did I want to stay at Allcotte or would I prefer the comfort of being with my own family. Well whatever it was that I decided on it seemed that my destination was fixed. I would be in Somerset over Christmas. I wondered what new things I would learn while I was there.

1. All's Well from The English Fleet in 1342 Words by Thomas John Didbin Music by John Braham written 1805
   
2. Mother Goose's Melody c. 1765 and can still be found in print today. Note they would not have sung the version of ‘Ring a Ring O Roses’ we all know, these words have not been found in children's literature before 1881 instead something along the lines of this:
   ‘The cows are in the meadow
   Lying fast asleep
   A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
   We all get up again.’
   There is no ‘fall down’ it would have been a bow or a curtsey apparently. ‘Rock a Bye Baby’ had in the footnotes: 'This may serve as a Warning to the Proud and Ambitious, who climb so high that they generally fall at the last.'
   

Chapter 4

Posted on Friday, 19 August 2005

In the second week of December we set off for our destination of Allcotte Abbey, it was there I was to pass my first week in Somerset. The journey was uneventful, nothing exciting happened and obviously we were not set down by robbers or thieves, all three children in seemed were quite used to traveling and only Martha, a born and bred cockney had never traveled before. I must say that I felt tremendously sorry for her, she was forced to sit on the roof, and the weather as Mrs Turner repeatedly said was bitterly cold.

Allcotte Abbey was not a disappointment on the eye. Founded during the reign of King Stephen, it had been a significant Carthusian monastery, before the Reformation. The buildings that were still standing were all in existence in the Middle Ages, forming the Abbot’s and monk’s quarters, their kitchen, refectories, chapter house, abbey church and the guest wing, still remain. In 1539 when Henry VIII ordered the dissolution of the larger monasteries, Fox, handed his work unfinished of the Abbey over to the King, and was subsequently made vicar of Clayton Green, the local village. 100 years after the dissolution, the Abbey was acquired by Abel Makepeace a supporter of the Commonwealth. It was him who transformed, I was told, the monastery into a magnificent country house, by adding state apartments above the monastic cloisters and transforming the principal rooms with the addition of paneling and ornate plaster ceilings. In 1721 Allcotte Abbey was sold to Robert Sutton and his family, and the estate now belongs to young Thomas, having inherited it from his own father another Robert Sutton died. I could make a good history lesson out of this house when the holidays were over.

On the following Monday Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy and Priscilla and Roberta accompanied me to Millwood Cottage, they were to pay a call on Mrs Thursfield. I was to stay with Kitty and Jonathan until the Friday after Christmas. The journey was 10 miles and Lady Arabella had refused to make the call, saying that they could hardly be considered neighbours! My relations were already present and I was very pleased to be reunited with them again after what seemed so long a period. Kitty handed over Rachel to me as she made the introductions, “Mr Darcy it is so lovely to see you again,” She said in her best gracious voice, “I was so surprised when Lizzy wrote to me to say that she was working as your children’s governess. May I congratulate you on your marriage?”

“Thank you Mrs Thursfield, and may I congratulate you also.”

“You are most kind, sir.” She then realised that he was still standing, “Oh I’m sorry please, this is my husband.” She indicated to Jonathan and both men bowed, “My Aunt and Uncle, Mr and Mrs Edward Gardiner, their children, Margaret, Susan, Edward and Henry and my niece Rachel, who Lizzy has and of course you already know my sister Jane.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you all.” He replied amiably, to my astonishment, were not these the people he had so scorned, “And may I introduce my sister Georgiana.” Poor Miss Darcy was trembling at the sight of so many people, “And Priscilla and Roberta Sutton.” This done, with much bowing and curtseying we finally succeeded in squeezing ourselves into the room and sitting down, but it was something of a squash. All the usual pleasantries were exchanged, between the adults and the children sat and played cheerfully on the floors, Rachel remained on my lap while I fussed about her and played with her.

I observed the room at large however my attention was most called to Mr Darcy’s line of vision; in fact all of Mr Darcy’s behaviour was of great interest to me. He was completely civil and although he did not speak often, the sound of his voice reached our ears more frequently than it ever had on previous occasions. He got along swimmingly with Uncle Gardiner; they were discussing a forth coming hunt with Jonathan, “The weather promises to be very good, there has been a very little ice so far.” And even Aunt Gardiner who initiated a conversation with him and his sister about Derbyshire and more specifically Lambton. These people were my relatives who he had once so distained, yet now he had no difficulty with them I on the other hand was having difficulty getting my head around it. As for his line of vision, it was focused on two objects, Jane and Rachel. Jane I hoped that he was watching her for evidence of melancholy or affection for Bingley and when she venture to bring him up a slight smile graced his face. His motives for watching Rachel I could not discern, there was no reason yet his gaze was frequently turned towards her, and he looked at her in earnest.

I confess to being quite enamoured with the little girl myself. She bore little resemblance to Lydia; she had been much fairer in colouring than Rachel, whose hair was as dark as my own. She was inquisitive and would certainly be a very bright child as well. She was at the age where babies want to learn about everything and they pick up everything they can lay their hands on, that included my hair, “Ouch!” I cried inadvertently as her little fist reached up for a handful of my hair and tugged at it, repeatedly.

“Oh Rachel, no, no, no, you little monster not your Aunt Elizabeth’s hair, it will hurt her!” Scolded Kitty as she rushed forward to come to my aid and remove the limpet who had attached herself to me. Rachel promptly burst into tears at the angry sound of Kitty’s voice and Kitty stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of wailing, looking a little embarrassed and flustered.

Fortunately, for me a hand reached out and carefully uncoiled the baby’s hands from my hair and removed her from my lap. I looked around at Mr Darcy who was seated next to me and blushing. For some unknown and idiotic reason, I thanked him as best I could with a tremendous deal of stuttering, “That is quite alright Miss Bennet.” He said and then turned his attention to Rachel, “There, there little one, it’s alright.” He whispered soothingly, while stroking her head, “Nobody is cross at you, see even your Aunt Elizabeth is smiling.” He turned the teary eyed child to face me and continued to murmur softly to her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. One could not help but smile. As quickly as they had begun Rachel’s tears ceased and she was cheerfully bouncing on Mr Darcy’s knee giggling happily as he played with her.

Rachel’s laughter was so infectious that I had to join it too and till the end of the visit the three of us were happily engaged in games of This Little Piggy or looking at Mr Darcy’s watch, which seemed to quite fascinate her. “Do you like it Rachel? It’s a very smart watch isn’t it?” I cooed. As we bent over and amused her I observed that more than one eye was turned to observe us. I saw Kitty whisper something to Jane, who looked in our direction and for some moments. They were unable to control their mirth and till the end of the visit their shoulders would still occasionally shake, while their heads were bowed, once Kitty even choked in her tea! The only person who did not watch was the person sitting to the right of her brother, after an initial glance at Rachel Miss Darcy refused to look at the child any further. I could not help but wonder why. Did the baby’s presence offend her or was there something else. Why was Miss Darcy never at total ease with me?

Kitty, Jonathan, Rachel and I escorted the four of them back out to their carriage at the end of their visit, where Mr Darcy continued in his civility and expressed a wish for them to all dine at Allcotte one evening if it was at all convenient and then they bid farewell to us all and said that they would see us all again on the twenty seventh, for the annual Boxing Day fox hunt.

When they were gone, Kitty and I returned to Jane who was the only one remaining in the parlour and once the door was shut Kitty and Jane glanced at one another and burst into fits of laughter again. “Just what, may I ask is so funny?” I asked grumpily, a little annoyed that I was excluded from their joke.

“Oh Lizzy… I am sorry it’s… oh… it was.” Jane managed to gasp between giggles.

“You and Mr… Mr Darcy!”

“The two of you were…so….”

“It … it was…fun…funny!” Kitty managed to gasp as she bent over double and clutched her sides as if she were in pain, “Oh stop it…Jane you’re making me laugh!”

“Me? Your make…making me laugh.”

I rolled my eyes at their odd behaviour, if I did not know any better I would think that Kitty had lost all the good sense she had recently acquired and Jane, well Jane must have turned into someone else. What on earth had got into them? “Would you two behave like the sensible young women you are supposed to be?” I demanded crossly. “And when you regain your sanity would you mind sharing with me just what exactly has affected you so.”

They looked at me and were once more over come by a bout of glee which for several minutes they indulged in and finally controlled. “Sorry Lizzy,” Jane muttered looking a little shame face, “I am behaving like I am eight years younger.”

“Oh really, I did not notice?” I teased her good naturedly.

“Sorry, Lizzy.”

“Now will you tell me what the problem is?”

“It’s just that you did not prepare us for such a drastic change in Mr Darcy.” Kitty explained, “Actually I never even thought he should be so civil as to come and call on me to say congratulations. I have always thought he completely scorned me. I mean I can understand why he would have. But he was so changed; he was very polite and good-natured.”

“There is not such a great change in him.”

“Is there not? I do not believe you really think that Lizzy?”

“Excuse me? Kitty what in the world are you speaking of.”

“Well you were getting along with him very nicely this morning.”

“I was playing with Rachel.”

“Really?”

“Yes it is not a crime you know, he was hogging my niece.”

“I am sure Lizzy.” Kitty looked at me skeptically, casting another glance in Jane’s direction, my elder sister giggled again quietly and I glared at her again.

“So you are saying that you do not think there is any improvement in his manners?”

“Not so great a change, he is still arrogant and full of pride and he is still rude to me you know he said that I was ‘most decidedly his inferior’ now.”

“It was very wrong of him to say that.” Jane agreed, “But Lizzy, you know I never thought him that ill behaved. And you know this morning he was very handsomely mannered there was not a hint of condescension and he didn’t appear as if he did not want to be here. Why he was very pleasant to us all.”

“Jane is right Lizzy.”

“I think you two are seeing more than there is. While I am prepared to admit that there is a slight change in his manners, it is not as drastic as you think. He is still rude and ill mannered.”

“And I think you are seeing far less than there is.” Kitty added with a smirk.

“Oh really?” I raised my eyebrow at them both.

“Elizabeth Bennet, you are in complete denial.” Kitty laughed at me again.

“What?” I spluttered blushing slightly.

“Oh I should have thought that was fairly obvious, would you not, Jane?”

“Kitty…I don’t think. Pay no heed to Kitty, Lizzy she does not know what she speaks of.” Jane said apologetically.

“Do I not Jane? I think I know exactly what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” I cried in exasperation.

“You admitted it yourself that you find it very odd working in the family now. But, well, we think that maybe there is something more to it than that.” Kitty admitted squeamishly.

“What more is there?”

“Do you not feel slightly envious of Lady Arabella, being in the position that was once offered to you? Instead you have been demoted to nothing more than a humble governess, working for exactly the same man.” I bowed my head; indeed I could not deny that at times there had been occasions when I felt strange, but envious? That was not a possibility. “Certainly if it had been me, well inevitably there would have been feelings of jealousy.” I opened my mouth to object, “Even if you’re not in love with him.”

“Kitty, what kind of books does Jonathan keep in his book room? I seriously believe you have been reading one too many romances.” I laughed flippantly.

“Oh no Elizabeth, you are not employing that tactic on me now. I saw you today, you got on well enough with him and you must feel like you have been usurped in your position of Mistress of Pemberley. You would have made a very handsome couple, a very handsome family I might say.”

“Is this what all your laughter is about?” I asked incredulously.

“We could not help it, you and Mr Darcy and Rachel looked so well together.” Kitty laughed again.

“I hope you did not marry Jonathan just because you thought you made a handsome couple.”

“You know I did not.” Kitty retorted with a certain smugness.

“Then I fail to see what so funny about it.” I returned arrogantly.

“Can you not?” Kitty turned to look at Jane with a look that said she did not believe me and she could not understand what my thoughts were. “Well we can, you acted as if you were almost married this morning.”

“The pair of you haven’t a clue what you are saying, are you sure this is tea you have served?” The final comment distracted them sufficiently and for a few minutes I was reprieved until Aunt and Uncle Gardiner entered the room. Their observations began; and each of them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to any thing they had expected.

“He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming,” Said my uncle.

“There is something a little stately in him to be sure,” replied Aunt Gardiner, “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now wonder that though some people may call him proud; I have seen nothing of it.”

“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such attention. Elizabeth no, almost everyone had led us to believe him to be quite different.”

“To be sure, Lizzy, he is very handsome his features are perfectly good. He has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance that would not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But how came you to tell us that he was so disagreeable?”

I excused myself as well as I could; saying that he had been better behaved since my re-acquaintance with him but he had never been as amiable as this morning.

“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied Uncle Gardiner, “Your great young men often are.”

I felt that they had mistaken his character, but said nothing. I felt that his character was by no means so faulty, nor Wickham's so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. However, there was no call for me to voice these thoughts aloud, for we all knew it perfectly well already. Besides the occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave me much attention for anything else; and I could do nothing but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy's civility.

The week leading up to Christmas was very busy; we had a house to decorate with Kissing Bows and Yule Logs and so forth, not to mention Kitty, Jane and I visited all their poor parishioners to give them baskets full of breads and linens and a few extra treats, we had baked gingerbread by the dozens. I was most impressed with Kitty, she was gracious and friendly to these people and seemed genuinely thrilled by the task. She had never been on such easy terms with the tenants at Longbourn.

On Christmas morning we all attended church at Millwood, Jonathan’s service was very good; there was humour in what he said although the message was very serious. Kitty insisted that we stay back until everyone had left the church so that she could wish everyone happy Christmas. Upon returning to the rectory we all assembled in the drawing room and happily exchanged gifts, there were the usual handkerchiefs and the children were all given an orange and I was left with one other package that had been delivered yesterday, puzzled I opened a copy of Mrs Hamilton on Education which had a message printed in a child’s hand, “Who is that from Lizzy?”

“The children.”

“Which children? Did Meg, Sukie, Ned and Harry not give you something else?”

“No, I mean yes they have, it is from Priscilla, Bobbie and Tom.” I replied while my two sisters looked at me in astonishment.

Kitty’s housemaid had agreed to stay for half the day to help her with the cooking. Much of which was previously prepared but Kitty feared she might still burn the roast beef and venison or the goose, capon, pheasant, and Christmas pie, all of which we complemented her on saying that it was ‘very well done.’ None of us could face telling her it was scorched. Before we left Hertfordshire Mrs Hill had kindly prepared a Christmas Pudding for Kitty and this was the best part of the meal, it was one of the family recipes which Mrs Hill had passed on to Kitty as a wedding present. Good old Mrs Hill, I believe, she though we would go hungry otherwise.

After the meal we played games of Charades, Bullet Pudding, Apple Bobbing and Snapdragon, which proved to be very dangerous as Uncle Gardiner had his eyebrow burnt off. I think he and Jonathan got a little over excited after having consumed a little too much of the wassail bowl, while the children sang carols for us despite Kitty not having an instrument in the house.

Boxing Day was a Sunday that year so obviously the hunt had been put off until the Monday but Kitty took us out once again to make calls with baskets. There was an infectious fever in the village and the poor were much affected by it. We spent the whole day away from the parsonage and caring for the sick. Mid afternoon one of my patients died, he was a young boy of no more than perhaps eight or nine and it saddened me incredibly. I saw that what Kitty was doing was a great help to these people several of whom could not even afford enough food for their large families.

During this time we did not have the pleasure of being introduced to Lord Tyndale, who I was greatly interested in. He was Lady Arabella’s brother after all, my interest was increased by Jonathan and Kitty’s description of him. They portrayed him as amiable, kind, good humoured, and I got the impression that Kitty had him marked as a prospective husband for me. To sum up, he was the polar opposite of his sisters. At first I denied the possibility and thought that perhaps they had been blinded by gratitude and social standing, much the same as Mr Collins but realized that that was virtually impossible. Jonathan had been a long term friend of Lord Tyndale at both school and university. Jonathan’s family were a wealthy family from the east of England, he was the younger son. Just as his uncle had been and became a clergyman because there was no other option, the Thursfield family did not believe in nepotism so Jonathan had been obliged to make his own way in the world – so to speak because his connections were enough to promote him. His long term friend Lord Tyndale had offered him the opportunity as the clergyman of Featherstone House. Being tolerably acquainted with Jonathan and having enough faith in Kitty’s good judgment this thus ruled out blind gratitude. Therefore, it was concluded that Lord Tyndale his mother and youngest sister were as amiable and as good humoured as my brother an sister portrayed and as different from the Ladies Arabella and Newlyn as could be which only increased by eagerness to meet him.

Actually my impression of him, added to my previous knowledge of the family lead me to believe that Lord Tyndale may be more interested in Jane. However, from conversations with both her and my Aunt I knew that she was most defiantly still in love with Mr Bingley. “I am fine Lizzy.” She assured me, trying to smile. “I just miss Mamma and Papa and Lydia that is all.”

“You are very convincing Jane. However, I know that they are not all that you miss.”

“I am not as materialistic as that sentence makes me sound, I miss Longbourn but the country here is just as charming.”

“I did not know you to be so sly in evading questions dearest.” She looked up at me slightly distressed. “Very well then allow me to rephrase, there are other people who you miss.”

“The loss of the Goldings, Lucas’, Phillips’, Harringtons, Longs and the remaining neighbourhood is no great loss to me Lizzy.” She replied.

“You are being very difficult Jane.”

“Then do not tease me so Lizzy.”

“Might I point out that you and Kitty had your fun with me and that I am being serious. You miss someone else who is not in the immediate neighbourhood any longer.”

“Lizzy I assure you that I am quite over that gentleman, I was foolish enough to believe… but he is forgot, I assure you.”

“You would never want to see him again? What would you do if he called on you?”

Jane earnestly denied that she would want him to call again, but I was not convinced. There was a certain look about her face that betrayed her true feelings coupled with the dejection in her voice as she stated, “Besides he has not called yet, what would make him call now.”

“Jane might I remind you at present he is currently residing on the continent.” I said no more, not wanting to raise her hopes to high, but I was certain that this matter would soon be resolved. She said no more to me on the subject either and I picked up a book and she some embroidery Aunt Gardiner entered.

“I hope I am not disturbing you girls?” She said obviously slightly discomposed by our silence.

“No, I was just leaving.” Jane got up from her chair and left the room. Anxiously I watched her depart then turned to my Aunt and asked her how Jane truly did?

“There is some little improvement, you may have noticed that she is more willing to accept Rachel than before, but still her behaviour is out of character she was such a kind hearted girl. Our families loss has affected her grievously, she seems more dejected than before.”

“It certainly has not improved her spirits.” I answered crossly. “I hope some of her worries will soon be resolved.” I said expressing my dearest wish.

“How can that be Lizzy?”

“Oh I have great hopes that Mr Bingley will return to the country soon.”

“Lizzy…” Aunt Gardiner warned me. “Take care, Elizabeth your hope could be a foolish one.”

“But this time he will be aware she is in town. I am sure to meet him sooner or later and if nobody else informs him then I can, only you must tell me how pleased Jane is for I shall not witness it myself.”

“That is a very bold wish young lady. Mr Bingley may well have completely forgotten her by now, why he could even return from the continent married to another.”

“It is unlikely, he was in love with her, it was most decided. It was only through the interference of others that he was kept away before. Aunt, you received Miss Bingley yourself.” I said with a pointed look.

“You seem very confident, but how do you know that the same thing shall not occur this time around? I remember once before you cast your suspicion upon Mr Darcy, how do you know that he will not keep Jane and Bingley apart again, he might wish for an alliance between his sisters to take place as much as Bingley’s own sisters wish it.” She warned me.

Her warning did not serve as a blow to my confidence even though I was left with a whole week to ruminate upon it. It could not be denied that Mr Darcy was improved in his civilities. I had a feeling that he agreed with my assessment of Jane now, and I had a hope that he would right that wrong that had been committed over two years ago now. I reasoned that if he could accept me into his house and we could get along then he could have no objection in accepting Jane as Mr Bingley’s wife. That was at least providing that he could be civil to my relatives in the future. If on Monday at the beginning of the hunt he was still pleasant to everyone then I could rest assured that my dear Jane would soon be happy and re united with her Mr Bingley again.

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