A Peculiar Connection (33 page)

I shrank back into the shadows and watched maids scurry to and fro like mice running from a tomcat. Linton personally escorted Elizabeth up the stairs and forced her into her chamber. When I witnessed her pitiful pleading and cries for his understanding, I could not remain hidden. Running out into the open, I grabbed my brother’s hand and attempted to disengage his grip from my sister’s arm. My efforts were as ineffectual as a tiny insect waging war upon a wild boar. He thrust her into the room and locked the door behind her.

I did not know your father returned to our house that night. I do recall the terrible storm, for its roar was the only sound that muffled my sister’s weeping. At that time, I knew nothing of the lie Linton told your father.

All of us left for Town the next day, save my grandmother. Elizabeth and I were kept apart most of the time or governed by either Mother or the governess. I remember that, during the journey, my sister attempted to run away more than once, but she was recovered each time.

In London, Elizabeth was kept under lock and key for what seemed like ages to a child, but could not have been more than two or three months. Of a sudden, one day she was gone—returned to Bridesgate without explanation. I suppose I was considered too young to be told why. I never saw her again.

In December, a few weeks before Christmas, I was told that my sister had died. I was heartbroken, undone with sorrow. When I asked the cause of her death, no one answered me. I suppose my mother grieved, but if so, she kept it hidden from me. Linton continued on his descent into personal destruction. My grandmother passed away the following month, and when we travelled to Derbyshire to close up the house, I stole away one afternoon and discovered Elizabeth’s grave. There were no blossoms to be found in January, and I grieved that I could not cover her grave with the yellow daffodils she loved so well.

I looked up to see my father sobbing. Tears filled my eyes, and my throat constricted so that I could not continue. William saw my distress and took the letter from me. Father Darcy beckoned, and I knelt on the floor at his feet, holding his hand while William finished reading.

I did not learn that my sister died in childbirth for seven years. Upon her deathbed, my mother revealed the truth to me. She was terrified of dying, afraid that she would be held accountable in the next life for her part in Elizabeth’s tragic story.

You ask whether my sister knew that Mr. Da
rcy
believed her dead. I cannot answer that. As I said, I was prevented from being in her presence alone, for Linton and Mother blamed me for knowing of your parents’ friendship and keeping it secret. I do know that I never saw her smile again or any trace of that lively spirit she had always possessed. I saw nothing but grief and hopeless resignation in her eyes. We snatched but a moment to speak alone the day before she disappeared from our house in Town.

“I shall always love him, Ellie,” she whispered.

“Surely, Darcy will come for you,” I said.

“Yes, he will come if he can, but I fear something dreadful has happened to him, for I know he would never forsake me. No matter what happens or what they do to me, they cannot destroy what I feel in my heart. Linton may annul my marriage, but I shall never marry Lord Haversham. I shall die first, for Darcy will always be my husband.”

Those were the last words I heard Elizabeth utter.

I am sorry, my dear, that I cannot shed more light on your questions or give you more agreeable news. I do know this: Your mother loved your father, and if she had lived, I know she would have loved you more than life itself. She would not have you grieve for her. She would wish for you to live life to its fullest. Be happy, Elizabeth, for your mother’s sake and for your own.

With deepest regards,

Eleanor Willoughby

I heard Mr. Darcy fold the paper and slip it into his coat pocket. I had laid my head upon my father’s knee, and he gently smoothed back my hair. All three of us remained silent, save for the sounds of my father’s weeping. At length, I looked up at his lined face, and he reached out, clutching me to his breast.

“I love you, Father,” I whispered over and over.

“And I love you more than you will ever know, my own dearest child.”

I could hear Mr. Darcy begin to pace, as he did when greatly disturbed. “What has happened is monstrous! Someone must pay for this. I shall call out Willoughby as soon as I reach London!”

“No!” I cried. “William, you must not.”

“Stand still, Fitzwilliam. You tire me out with all that walking about. Come, and listen to reason.”

Mr. Darcy looked as though he wished he might utter an oath, but he ceased pacing and sat in the chair I had vacated.

“It is not right, Uncle! Willoughby should not go free without suffering some consequence for this heinous deed.”

“From what you and Elizabeth have told me, Linton has not gone free. His life is ruined, and he has no future. Do not seek revenge, for it will not undo the past. Leave him to God.”

“I shall never forgive him!” Mr. Darcy muttered.

“You must. Both of you must forgive the man. Your hatred will do him no harm, but it will kill your souls. Forgiveness is the only answer, my children.”

“You ask too much, Uncle.”

“All things are possible with God, my son.” He patted my hair again and stared off in the distance. “The only obstacle I cannot overcome…is how to forgive myself.”

“But, Father,” I said, “you have no guilt in this matter.”

He tenderly placed his hand upon my cheek. “Tell that to my heart, my child.”

][

We sailed from Ireland on the twenty-sixth day of September, taking advantage of the last calm seas before the harsh tides of winter set in. Leaving Father Darcy had proved painful, for we both knew it was most likely that we should never meet again. Before we parted, I asked him whether he regretted learning of my birth.

“Never, my child, for knowing that Elizabeth and I will live on in you and your children is a blessing I never anticipated. I thought that dream had died in England, and now I rejoice that it has come true.”

William and I had discussed the possibility of my father returning to Pemberley with us, but we feared that he could not survive the journey. When we raised the subject with Father, he declined as we expected, stating that Ireland was his home. It had been so far too long for him to leave it now. I promised to write often, and he assured me that Father Rafferty would read the letters to him and copy his answers as he dictated. A generous flood of tears was shed between us, but we parted with a smile. Although I was sad, I longed to go home, and thus, my feelings were conflicted as we rode out of Ballymeghan.

I shall not relate the tedious and often boring detail of our journey. Suffice it to say that it was as tiring as one might expect, by both carriage and ship. My heart, however, gradually began to grow lighter with the passing of each mile, for I looked forward to the future with expectations that I had not dared to entertain before. I knew that, God willing, Mr. Darcy and I would wed at Longbourn Church as soon as he was able to secure a special licence. That thought sustained me through all the discomfort of travelling.

It seems somewhat silly, but I recall that the most difficult aspect of the journey was the fact that William and I were unable to find a moment of privacy together. During the confinement of the long carriage ride, either Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley shared the coach or Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did. William was forced to content himself with simply gazing upon me as the miles crept by. We found the inns crowded along the route to Dublin, so finding a hidden setting proved impossible. Even when we took a walk in the evening, Georgiana wished to keep us company. We loved her, but oh, how we hoped she felt too tired for exercise at the end of each day. Alas, God blessed the young girl with an unpardonable amount of energy!

We spent a week in Dublin awaiting our ship, during which Mr. Darcy secured tickets for a box at the theatre on Wednesday night. Neither Mrs. Gardiner nor Mrs. Annesley felt up to the evening, so my uncle and Georgiana accompanied us. Believe me when I say that Mr. Darcy took every opportunity to hold my hand each time the audience turned their attention to the stage. Softly, he traced circles in my palm or caressed my wrist with such tenderness that I confess I could not tell you what the play was about. I could feel his eyes upon me, and consequently, I spent most of the evening returning his loving gaze rather than watching the actors’ performance. Not a word was spoken between us, but we did not need words.

Once aboard ship, our attempts to be alone were impeded even more. The cramped quarters below deck threw us together with our companions and the other passengers, and on deck, of course, we were in open view of the captain and his crew. Our separation began to play on Mr. Darcy’s temper. More than once, he answered Georgiana with a tone of irritation or refused her requests, whatever they were, a behaviour I had not witnessed before and one that puzzled his young sister.

At length, one evening at the close of the meal, as he withdrew from the table to join the gentlemen for a drink, he stopped beside my chair.

“Your shawl, Miss Bennet,” he said quietly as he picked it up from the floor.

Evidently, it had slipped from my shoulders and dropped from the chair. Placing it in my hands, he also enclosed a tiny scrap of paper. I looked up to meet his eyes and read the message therein. As soon as possible, I unfolded the note.

Meet me on deck after the others retire.

My heart beat faster at the thought. Might I possibly slip away without alerting Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner or being heard by anyone else? The thought filled me with adventure. I feared the evening would never end. The captain and ship’s doctor entertained us with a duet on cello and violin. Their performance was quite proficient, but it would go on and on. Georgiana was entranced and wished for a pianoforte so that she might join them. I began to think they should play all night.

Finally, the company dispersed, and we bade each other good night before we settled in our cabins. I did not undress. Instead, I repeatedly checked my appearance in the small mirror. One would think I was to attend my first ball from the glow on my cheeks.

While tapping my foot impatiently, I placed my head against the wall, hoping to hear nothing but silence from the next room. When all was quiet, I proceeded to the door and leaned against it to detect noises from without. Imagine my surprise when someone rapped on the door precisely on the spot next to my ear!

“Oh!” I cried aloud, but opened the door forthwith to find my aunt asking to come in.

“Why, Lizzy, you have not even begun to prepare for bed. Are you not tired?”

“I…I am. I was just…looking for a favourite book before I turn in. What brings you, Aunt? Are you unwell again? May I be of service?”

She smiled, her complexion turning slightly pink. “No, I just hoped for a quick word. I have news that I wish to share with you. I am with child again.”

“With child? How wonderful! Are you certain?”

“All the signs are evident. That is why I have suffered illness so often on the journey. I tell you, Lizzy, I am much relieved, for I feared these aches and pains were a sign of age. Now, I see that I am not so old after all.”

“Of course not! I am thrilled. What does Uncle Edward say?”

“He is pleased. He hopes for another boy so that, eventually, when he changes the name of his business to
Gardiner and Sons
, there will be one more to add to the company.” We laughed merrily and discussed the upcoming event no little time before she, at last, rose from the bed to leave.

“On another note, Lizzy, I must ask you whether you have noticed how abrupt Mr. Darcy has been with his sister today. Is something amiss?”

I shrugged. “Perhaps he simply tires of the voyage.”

“Hmm…it seems so out of character, for he is the soul of patience with her most days.”

“Everyone has a disagreeable day, even Mr. Darcy, it seems.”

“Yes, even Mr. Darcy. You are quite certain he has not mentioned anything to you, Lizzy?”

“No,” I said honestly, for he truly had not spoken of his ill humour, although I knew perfectly well its cause.

My answer seemed to satisfy Mrs. Gardiner. She withdrew shortly thereafter, cautioning me not to sit up too late. Thus, I was forced to blow out the candle and remain quiet for some time, awaiting the cessation of sound that signalled her eventual retirement for the night.

I heard the bell tolling the midnight hour when I cautiously opened my door, slipped out, and tiptoed up the stairs. My efforts were rewarded with the smile on Mr. Darcy’s face as he waited beside the stairway.

“At last,” he said. “I began to think you would not come.”

“My aunt came calling.” We walked to the railing and then crossed to the starboard side of the ship. “I confess I found your note surprising.”

“Surprising? And why is that? When a man is as starved as I am for time alone with the woman he loves, why should he not resort to any and all pursuits?”

I laughed lightly. “It has been a long time since we have enjoyed a solitary meeting.”

“Long? It has been an eternity. Do you have any idea how I yearn to kiss you and hold you close?”

“We still cannot do so, sir, for we are hardly free of company. I feel the eyes of the seamen upon us this very moment.”

“True, but at least we may speak without restraint.”

We had reached the bow and stood at the railing, leaning into the wind. The night was beautiful, filled with stars that seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth. The splash and churn of waves below us muffled our speech, so even if a crewmember walked past, we could not be heard. Mr. Darcy leaned with his elbows against the rail, extending his arms over the water. We stood in silence for some time, simply content to be together.