Mr. Darcy's Daughter (23 page)

When
she had indulged herself with a long, hot, lavender-scented bath, put on fresh
clothes and shoes, and brushed out her hair, she began to feel a little calmer.
It was still not quite tea time, but the maid had brought her some anyway,
which she took with her into the sitting room. She hoped to practice for a
while at the pianoforte and, having selected some music, had been seated at the
instrument only a little while, when she heard the sound of a carriage coming
up the drive.

Believing
it to be her mother, who had been at Pemberley all day, attending to the
concerns of Mr. Darcy's tenants, Lizzie continued playing. Moments later, the
maid opened the door of the room to admit Mr. Carr. Lizzie sprang up from her
seat as he came towards her. He looked rather awkward and uneasy, she thought
and wondered what could be amiss, when taking her hand, he said,

"Miss
Gardiner, forgive me if I have intruded upon you, but I have only just heard the
sad news about your uncle, Mr. Julian Darcy...I am so very sorry."

Lizzie's
cheeks flamed with embarrassment. How could he have discovered it? Who could
have told him? she wondered.

"Mr.
Carr, thank you for your concern; indeed it is a very unhappy situation for my
uncle and the rest of his family, but may I ask how you learned of his
misfortune? Was it from my brother Darcy?" she asked, bewildered that the
news had reached him so swiftly.

"No
indeed, it was only by the merest accident," he explained. "I went
into the inn at Matlock around midday and there met a fellow who was
interested, so the landlord told me, in buying a pair of horses. When I was
introduced to him, I recalled that we had met before, in London at a club where
I had been with a mutual friend."

Even
more confused, Lizzie asked, "And did
he
tell you of my uncle's troubles? Who is this man?"

"Indeed
he did," Carr replied. "He claimed he knew Mr. Julian Darcy and his
wife well; he is from London, a Mr. Jones, Andrew Jones."

"Mr.
Jones!" The name sprang from her lips like a gunshot, before she could
stop it. Her outrage was plain, even to Mr. Carr.

"Do
you know him?" he asked, and she was quick to deny it. "I would not
say I knew him at all. We have met once or twice at my uncle's house."

Mr.
Carr nodded and, clearly unaware of any problem, went on, "Well, he is
staying in the area before proceeding to spend some time shooting with friends
in Cromford, he said. He wishes to acquire a pair of horses and was interested
in mine. I'm afraid I had to disappoint him; I am not selling any horses,
though I told him he was welcome to visit the stud and take a look at them, if
he had a mind to do so," he explained, while Lizzie could scarcely contain
her anger.

At
this point, Mr. Carr, alerted by the sharpness of Lizzie's voice as well as the
frown on her face, added, "It was when he heard that I had come to
purchase the property through the good offices of your father and brother that
he, aware of the family connection, told me of your Uncle Julian's unhappy
situation."

"I
was completely ignorant of the circumstances, but he seemed very well informed.
When he appeared to want to tell me more about Mrs. Darcy and his friend
Barrett, of whom I had no knowledge at all, I confess I felt uneasy and made an
excuse to get away."

Lizzie
could well believe it. He looked most awkward and unhappy but, determined to be
helpful, he said his piece. "Miss Gardiner, if this is true, I am very
sorry.

I
came directly to offer any assistance that you or your parents may need at this
time. If there is anything at all that I can do to help, please do not hesitate
to ask."

There
was no doubting the sincerity of his offer and the quite genuine concern in his
voice. The gravity of his countenance was evidence that he had been shocked by
the news.

Lizzie,
who had at first felt vexed and uncomfortable at this intrusion into their
lives, soon realised that Mr. Carr was not to blame; it had been the
insufferable Mr. Jones who had been so eager to gossip about Josie and Mr.
Barrett.

Mr.
Carr had come only to offer sympathy and help, if it was needed, and was surely
to be commended, not blamed.

This
time, she spoke more gently and with greater appreciation.

"Thank
you, Mr. Carr; I am sorry to have to say there is some truth in what you have
heard. Josie, Mrs. Darcy, has left my uncle's house, though with what motive,
we are not as yet certain. I will convey your sentiments to my parents, and I
am sure they will appreciate your concern," she said, "especially
Mama, who is at Pemberley today helping my grandfather, Mr. Darcy, with the
management of his estate, undertaking many of the tasks that should have been
the responsibility of my Uncle Julian."

Mr.
Carr nodded, appearing to understand the difficulties they faced, and once
again offered his help. "I can only say again that if there is anything at
all I can do, I should be most happy...you must feel free to call on
me..."

However,
when Lizzie, beginning now to feel kinder towards him, offered him some tea, he
politely declined, sensitive perhaps to the feelings of the family and not
wishing to intrude upon them any longer.

"I
must be back at the farm, Miss Gardiner, but I shall call again if I may.

Please
convey my regards to your parents. I take it your brother Darcy is still in
London?" Lizzie nodded as they went out into the hall. They were almost at
the door when Cassandra arrived, alighting from the carriage and coming quickly
up the steps into the house.

On
seeing Mr. Carr in the hall, she greeted him cordially and, having assured him
he was definitely not intruding, invited him to return to the sitting room and
take tea with her. "I have something very particular to ask of you,"
she said, and Mr. Carr was happy to oblige. This was exactly what he had hoped
to do.

"Lizzie,
darling, would you ask Alice to fetch a large pot of tea? I shall probably need
two cups at least and I am sure Mr. Carr will join us, will you not?" said
Cassy, turning to him, and this time he did not decline.

As
Lizzie went to order more tea, she wondered how Mr. Carr and her mother would
negotiate the perilous waters of her uncle's situation, but she need not have
worried. When she returned, with Alice bearing tea and cake, she found them
deep in discussion not of Julian Darcy's marital problems, but the vexatious
claims of some leaseholders who, having recently come into the district, were
demanding access to the Commons, land which had been for generations the
preserve of the people in the two villages that lay within the boundaries of
the estates of Pemberley and Camden Park.

"You
see, Mr. Carr, my father and Sir Thomas Camden chose not to enclose the Commons
and deprive the people of their rights. Now, these men, who have themselves
evicted many poor tenant farmers from their lands, want the same rights. My
father will not hear of it, and I believe Sir Thomas agrees with him.

I
need to discover whether their claims have any legal force. I do not wish to
alert these men by calling in my father's attorney, but if you were to make
some discreet enquiries..."

Mr.
Carr was happy to be of use and, even before she had finished her question, he
had offered to see his attorney and obtain an opinion for her. Cassy was very
pleased.

"Thank
you very much indeed, Mr. Carr," she said, as Lizzie poured out the tea.
"It would not have been so aggravating if they had a genuine interest in
the improvement of the land, but most of them are merely seeking to make a
profit by harassing perfectly decent people and pushing them off their small
holdings.

My
father is very angry about it; he has already accommodated two families who
have been evicted by these men, families that have farmed here for generations.
It is an abominable practice."

Mr.
Carr agreed and, as they took tea together, Lizzie looked on with some
amusement. This businesslike side of her mother she did not often see. No doubt
she was getting accustomed to dealing with such matters at Pemberley, Lizzie
thought, with a wry smile.

A
little later, she was surprised to hear her mother say, "Mr. Carr, there
is another little matter you can help us with," and as he turned to her,
Cassy continued, "Your housekeeper, Mrs. Allan, has a sister, Mrs. Baines,
who used to work for my mother at Pemberley. She has two daughters. Mary the
elder girl is married, but Margaret, who cannot be more than eighteen, is still
at home, or so my mother believes.

"If
this is the case, I should like to offer her some regular work here, assisting
my housekeeper and helping with the two boys, James and my brother's son
Anthony, who will be staying with us. I wonder if I may trouble you to convey a
message to Mrs. Allan and through her to Mrs. Baines? If she is agreeable, I
should like to see her and Margaret in the next day or so."

As
Lizzie watched, somewhat bemused, Mr. Carr appeared not at all put out by her
mother's request and promised to convey the message to his housekeeper that
very evening. Indeed, he appeared now much more at ease than when he had first
arrived, clearly happy to be of service. Having finished his tea, he left, but
not before he had been invited to dine with them on the Sunday following, an
invitation he accepted with obvious pleasure.

*

When
he had gone, Cassandra put down her empty cup and declared that Mr. Carr was
such a kind, obliging young man.

"He
puts me in mind of dear Mr. Gardiner; he was very similar, always happy to help
anyone who asked, ever ready to put himself out for a friend. He was such a
wonderful man," she mused sadly.

Lizzie
smiled and agreed that Mr. Carr was indeed kind and obliging, but was it fair,
she asked, to make use of him to run errands for them? She had been amused by
the casual manner in which her mother had asked him to take a message to his
housekeeper. This was certainly not the sort of thing Mrs. Darcy or her sister Mrs.
Jane Bingley would have done.

But
Cassy expressed astonishment at her question.

"Run
errands? Lizzie, I am surprised at you! Whatever do you mean by run errands?
Why, Mr. Carr, having heard of the awful business of your Uncle Julian and Aunt
Josie, had very kindly offered to help, 'in any way,' he said. 'Please do not
hesitate to ask,' he said. So, having taken him into our confidence as a
neighbour and a friend of your brother's, a gentleman of whom your Papa
approves, I asked for his help in a couple of small but important matters,
which I could not attend to myself. As you saw, Mr. Carr agreed gladly. Said he
was most happy to oblige. There is surely nothing wrong in that? Is
there?"

Lizzie,
faced with this completely logical, if somewhat unusual argument, gave in.
"No, Mama, of course not. It is only that I feel we should not treat Mr.
Carr any differently to the way we would treat our other friends and
neighbours," she said, and Cassy replied, "Do you mean, would I ask
Sir Thomas Camden to give a message to his housekeeper? Oh Lizzie, that would
be silly, because I do not believe Sir Thomas ever speaks to his housekeeper,
unless it were to complain of some inadequacy; that is his way. Mr. Carr is
different; he is younger, for one thing, of a different generation, and
remember, Lizzie, he is an American. They do not stand on ceremony as we
do."

And
seeing her daughter's smile widen considerably, she said, "Come now,
Lizzie, you cannot tell me that he wasn't happy to be asked to help?"

Realising
that she had no chance of winning this debate, Lizzie surrendered, and mother
and daughter went upstairs together to rest before dressing for dinner.

Lying
in her bed, Lizzie could see from her window the branches of the old elm,
moving restlessly against the blue of the late-afternoon sky arching overhead.
Lizzie loved the elm, like an old friend. She, with her brother Darcy, had
often climbed into its sturdy arms to look at the world beyond their own domestic
environment. You could see all the way across the river and into the village
beyond, and if you were brave enough to climb higher, Darcy used to tell her,
you could see into the next county, with the smoke rising from the kilns of the
potteries. Lizzie had never climbed high enough, afraid that she would be
caught by their nurse, who would surely disapprove of young girls clambering
around in trees. There was also the ever-present fear that she may fall and
break a leg.

But,
Lizzie did recall an occasion, some years ago, when Josie Tate, who was the
same age as Darcy, had climbed so high into the tree, she had been terrified,
unable to get back down again, and had to be rescued by the gardener using a
ladder and rope.

There
had been a great fuss about that. Lizzie smiled as she recalled her mother's
stern words to Darcy for leading Josie astray.

They
had all been great friends then; that was, of course, before their Uncle Julian
had fallen in love with her and things had changed considerably for Josie Tate.

*

By
the time Mr. Carr returned to dine with them on Sunday, several things had
taken place. Darcy Gardiner had returned, coming away from the election
campaign to spend a week at home, and he had brought bad news. The story of
Julian and Josie had "got around London," he said, and several people
were speaking quite disparagingly of Josie.