  Saturday, 9th November: Claresfont Two occupants, each on opposite wings of the second floor of Claresfont, woke earlier than usual on Saturday morning. Unsurprisingly, their thoughts largely involved each other. Elizabeth awoke before first light, but rather than summon her maid, she elected to stay within the warmth of her bed, as she pondered the events of the prior night. As she looked across the room, she saw that Darcy had taken the tray of wine with him when he had left. He had also replaced Lady Matlock's collection of drawings into their case and tied it shut, leaving the portfolio on the table. Its presence there convinced her that she had not merely dreamed what had happened between them. What had possessed me? she wondered. She could have distracted him with some innocent story: as long as it involved his aunt, she did not believe that he would have doubted her. She prided herself on her honesty, but if there was ever a moment to not stand on principle, that may have been it. For that matter, she was not really sure what had possessed Mr. Darcy. His behavior had not been anything like what she imagined that a man's would be in such circumstances, even a most honorable man. She would not have expected him to urge her to anticipate their marriage vows, but surely, he would have wanted to experience his own pleasure! She glanced across the room again, at Lady Matlock's book. She would return it to her with some excuse, when they were next alone; she suspected that she no longer needed it. She blushed at her next thought, when she wondered whether the Countess had another volume of drawings secreted away somewhere, which divulged the other part of the puzzle. She suspected that she would be too mortified to ask her that, although after what had occurred with William Her musings were eventually interrupted by the sound of Sally entering the dressing room. A few minutes later, she was out of bed, getting ready for the day.
Darcy had fallen into a deep sleep, almost immediately after he returned to his room. As he slowly became conscious on the next morning, he realized that his first and very much unplanned visit to Elizabeth's chamber had both exhilarated and emotionally drained him. He sat up in bed and reached for his pocket-watch to check the time: it was just past six. The day was to be a critical one, and plans made earlier in the week, necessitated that he leave Claresfont before noon-time. But his experience with Elizabeth presented a complication, one which needed to be addressed before he departed. For the last thing that he desired was that she interpret his immediate absence as a censure of her, in any way. After a quarter of an hour of contemplation, he had decided upon a solution. He wasted no time in calling for his man, but rather, put on his night-time robe and quickly made his way down to the library. He knew where the volume that he sought was shelved and before long, had returned to his chambers. There he set the one book aside and took another from the small shelf in the room. When he had found the section which he wanted, he rang for Mr. Curtis and asked that he have a bath prepared for him. While that was being done, Darcy copied out some short lines of verse, making a small change to the author's words. When the ink had dried, he folded the sheet of paper, addressed it to Elizabeth and then slipped it into the book. Satisfied, he then joined his valet in his dressing room.
As had become their morning custom, Elizabeth knocked on her sister's bed-chamber door before proceeding downstairs. Mary soon opened it and the two sisters walked together towards the staircase. "Elizabeth, did someone come to our sitting room last night?" Mary suddenly asked. "I thought I heard people speaking." "Yes, William did. He had something to tell me and was also wondering why everyone had disappeared!" "We did all retire quite early, did we not! I even saw Lord Matlock and Edward halfway ahead of me on the stairs." Elizabeth started at Mary's use of the Colonel's Christian name but decided not to tease her about it, since it was likely just a slip of tongue. Mary, for her part, did not seem to even realize what she had said. Instead, she asked what Darcy's news had been. Looking about to assure that no servant was nearby, Elizabeth told Mary about the plan to relocate Letty Sares to the south of the country, where, at least, she need not fear seeing the miscreants who had so badly used her. Neither sister said what they both thought to be true: that the poor girl would likely live in fear of many things for the rest of her life.
When the Bennet sisters reached the family dining parlor, only Darcy and the Colonel were present. Both men rose to their feet and then Darcy gestured for Elizabeth to sit next to him, pulling the chair out to assist her in doing so. The uncertainty which both of them felt, but which each were trying not to reveal, evaporated the moment that their eyes met. Darcy smiled at her in a way which Elizabeth found to be endearing, in its shy determination. In return, she offered him such a glowing one of her own, that both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary would have been shocked by its intensity, had they not already walked to the sideboard together to select their meal. In short order, Darcy and Elizabeth joined them, and then breakfast proceeded as it did on most mornings at Claresfont. However, both Darcy and the Colonel knew that the day would well be one of the most serious ones of their lives, a fact that they could not share at that time with either young woman. When they were through eating, Darcy casually indicated that he and Edward would be away from the estate for most of the day, on a matter of business. As the four of them left the room, he mentioned to Elizabeth that he had a book which he thought might interest her and asked that she join him in the library. However, when they reached it, he removed a volume not from a shelf, but rather from the pocket of his jacket, before giving it to her. He then took hold of her hand and kissed it, before quickly leaving the room. More bemused than puzzled, Elizabeth opened the book and read its frontispiece, which announced that it was the very recent translation, by Henry Francis Cary, of the Italian poet Dante Alighieri's work, Il Paradiso. Paradise. She smiled, thinking that Darcy intended a play on words, until she realized that there was a sheet of note paper secreted within the book. The paper was folded and was addressed to her. She thought the better of reading it there in public, and slipped the small book into the pocket of her dress. Once she was back in her room, she unfolded the note and read it carefully:
Some ask'd me where the Rubies grew: F.D One phrase above all of the others danced in Elizabeth's mind: Some ask'd how the Pearl did grow, and where: Then spoke I to my girl, To part her lips, and guide me there... Elizabeth was somewhat familiar with Robert Herrick, the 17th Century English Romantic poet, whose best known poem began with the provocative line Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Her father did not buy his works: rather she had seen them on trips to the Library while visiting the Gardiners in London. Like many of the romantic poets, his words were frequently symbolic, rather than literal, and often referred to love-making. Her contemplation of the Pearl in question began to make her squirm, in a pleasant but entirely impractical way. For another onslaught of seamstresses were expected imminently that morning. She concentrated on that annoyance to distract herself. When she feeling more composed, she went in search of her sister, Georgiana and Lady Matlock, to prepare for what she hoped was the final invasion of Mrs. Groton's minions. But she could not completely escape the words which had burned themselves into her memory.
Derbyshire: Lambton Early Saturday Morning Darius Tate brought his horse to a stop in front of the main entrance to Pemberley. Earlier in the week, a servant from that estate had appeared at his shop and handed him a letter. He was confused by its message, which merely said that Mr. Darcy of Pemberley wished to meet with him, on a matter of interest to both of their families. It also asked him to keep the message in confidence, even from his younger brother. The note indicated that the meeting would take place at a location other than Derbyshire, to which he would be conveyed by a carriage from Pemberley. That alone shocked him. However, he knew that Mr. Darcy was viewed as an excellent landlord by his tenants and while not often a visitor to Lambton, treated its occupants with civility when he did so. He also had an excellent reputation for his generosity to the neighborhood's poor. On the few occasions that he had met the man, Darcy had also been unfailingly polite to him. Given this, and the gentleman's status, Tate felt obliged to accept the invitation. As he disembarked, a groom appeared to take charge of his mount. A well dressed man whom he knew be Mr. Norris, the estate's butler, himself opened the door and then escorted him to a small parlor, in which some food was waiting. Norris informed him that he would be departing to his destination in about a half of an hour, apologizing for the delay. Never having tasted a rich man's breakfast before, Darius took a warm roll and butter, as well as a piece of fruit. He then poured himself a cup of the best tea which he had ever drank. Unwilling to sit down, lest he spill something on the room's fine furniture, he carried his plate and cup over to a window and looked outside. Given the hour, he was surprised to see two women, a man and a girl exit the house, walking to a waiting coach. The girl was barely moving on her own; she being almost carried by the two women. After they helped her into the carriage, one of the women withdrew and the man then boarded it in her stead. After the carriage departed and the remaining woman turned towards the house, Tate realized that she was Mrs. Reynolds, the estate's housekeeper, whom he had seen often enough in Lambton over the years. Not knowing what to make of what he had seen, he returned to the sideboard and carefully put down his plates. Then he waited for Mr. Norris to return. Less than four hours later, Tate watched in wonder as the carriage, in which he had traveled alone, approached yet another great estate. He opened the window and shouted up to the two drivers. "What's this place?" he asked. "Who lives here?" "It's called Hob Hill," the assistant driver called down. "T'is the house of His Grace, the Duke of Alsworth." At that point, Darius Tate stopped trying to guess the reason for his summons: it was all beyond him.
When he entered the house, a footman quickly escorted Tate to a study on the house's first floor, where he found Darcy waiting. Darcy quickly stood up and offered the man his hand. "Thank you for coming all this distance to speak with us, Mr. Tate, especially since I did not tell you the reason for this meeting." Tate shrugged slightly in response. "I was surprised to be sure, Mr. Darcy but I figured yer wouldn't hafe asked without a good reason." Darcy nodded. "I have something that I must tell you. But are you hungry? We can eat beforehand, if you wish." "Yer cook sent a basket of food along fer me. There was more than enough." "Yes. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, often says that Mrs. Mayson would love to be feeding an entire regiment." "T'is a shame we are both married, sir. Fine cooking like that ain't often found." "She is sixty, if she is a day, Mr. Tate." "Given my healthy appetite, sir, that would not matter so much to me!" Darcy had to smile at that. "All right, we can postpone any meal, but we should share a glass of brandy." He knew they would both need it. When they had both sat down, Darcy took a deep breath, then began the story which he wanted to tell. "Mr. Tate, I must tell you in advance that this story will bring back terrible memories, for myself and, even worse ones for you. For you see, thirteen years ago, it was I who found your sister Anna's lifeless body, in a field at Pemberley." Darcy proceeded to tell Darius the series of events which had followed the girl's suicide, including the fact that he had in his possession a letter from the man's mother written at the time of his sister's death. "Do you this letter here, sir?" "Yes." "Then let me have it." Out of a drawer in the Duke's desk, Darcy removed an envelope, still sealed with wax from so many years earlier. He placed the letter on the desk then looked at Tate. "Would you like me to leave, so you may read this in private?" Tate shook his head as he reached for the letter. He hesitated for just a moment, then open it.
23 July, 1785 To my deerest boys, Darius and Martin, I'm writing this to you so you know whot it was that killed my poor Anna. She took her own life but only becauze she was raped by Clemant Walcott, while she was in service at his father's house. She became with child and she couldn' take the shame of it. so she ended her own life. She wrot a letter to me tellin' me why she did whot she did. It was young Master Darcy who found her. He removered her letter to give it to Mr. Robert Darcy, who sent his men to get owr poor girl's body and bring her home. I begged Mr. Darcy to help me bury her shriven and he did as I asked him. But I made him promize that if he heard of another girl hurt by this same basterd, that he would give you mine letter and the one from Anna, so you would stop the man from hurting even more girls. He also told Walcott that would happen. If you are see'in this letter now, then something bad has happened again because of this man. I ask that you do what your heart sayz is right, Yer loving mother, Mary Tate
Darius Tate paused for a moment, then read the note left by his sister. The slightest glint of tears appeared in his eyes. Then he looked up at Darcy. "What has happened, for you to give me these?" he asked. Darcy summarized the Walcotts' interference with his own family and then told Tate about Letty Sares. "My oldest, she's just ten," Tate remarked. "This girl they hurt, who was taken in at your house, did you have her moved this morning?" "Yes, quite early. She is traveling with an older woman as a companion and my physician." "I seen her, through the window, while I was waiting to leave for here. You say this happened two weeks ago? I seen newborn foals more steady on their feet than she was." Tate leaned forward in his seat. "What is it that you want from me, Mr. Darcy?" he asked. "The chances of these men being brought to justice in the House of Lords or in any court of law, is virtually impossible at this point, Mr. Tate. But justice must be served. And they must be stopped. We want you to help us kill them." Darius Tate nodded, then stood up. "Thank you for doing what you could to help my poor sister, Mr. Darcy." He held out his hand. "My brother and me will do whatever t'is you need us to do." Darcy shook Tate's hand and then escorted him out of the study, to the parlor where Colonel Fitzwilliam and the Duke of Alsworth were awaiting them. He hoped with all of his being that they were not making a tragic mistake but he could think of no other alternative. |
