Mr. Darcy's Secret (26 page)

Elizabeth felt the tears prick and tried to blink them away. How foolish she had been. When she thought how he must perceive her words, nay, her accusations, she wished she could take them back. Every apology, everything she could summon up by way of saying she was sorry seemed totally inadequate. Her lips opened yet no sound came from within.

He continued, "I must confess that as a young man I did fall in love with Viola Wickham. It was a boyish love given in all innocence and never to be returned, although I did not appreciate it at the time. If you care to believe me, not even a kiss was exchanged between us. The letters you found, I thought had been lost long ago. What an unhappy circumstance that you found them. What a pity that you felt it necessary to read them."

Elizabeth winced at that remark. How could she explain that she had never meant to read them? How could she reconcile the fact that she had? She could not meet his gaze though she felt his eyes upon her.

"For a time I wanted to protect the child's mother out of loyalty and my love for her. She told me she was in trouble and I helped her with what money I had. However, in the end, it was the child's welfare that interested me. Poor soul, he could not be blamed for his condition in life. My dear mother's maid agreed to take on the child, to give him a loving home, and Viola was only too happy to give him up. I promised to help provide what I could, though I had not yet come into my money and would not do so for some time. It was all discreetly done, although in such cases as these, however careful one might be, there is bound to be talk. I kept in touch, but after arrangements were made for the child I did not hear from her again. I think as far as she was concerned I had outgrown my usefulness. It was only much later, when Viola Wickham came back into my life briefly, that I found I was duty bound to consider the child's welfare. At my father's funeral she appeared once more, demanding to see me. It was then that I learned the truth, the facts that I still find hard to contain. With my father's death her financial security withered. He did not provide for her in his will and she came to see what I would do for her."

Elizabeth hesitated. "But why should your father provide for her in his will? Was your father helping her, though you were not aware of it at the time?"

Mr Darcy nodded. "After his death, I found a letter outlining his intentions to provide for the child. Money was sent to Miss Wickham on a regular basis."

Darcy abruptly turned away for a moment and his wife heard the momentary distress in his voice.

The shock of understanding this statement gave rise to feelings of both alarm and relief of a kind. The realisation that her supposition must be correct meant that her husband was entirely innocent of the wrongs she had accorded him.

"I cannot have understood correctly," Elizabeth began, wishing she really had no comprehension at all.

Darcy nodded. "Elizabeth, I wish I could tell you differently, but there is no other explanation. George Tissington is no heir to the Pemberley fortune, but he is my brother."

"I still don't quite understand how you managed to retrieve the rest of the letter from Mrs Younge," said Elizabeth a week later as they travelled into Lambton one morning to visit their tenants, "even though I know if anyone could accomplish such a task easily, it would be you."

"Our brother-in-law has his uses," Darcy explained. "When he came to comprehend that I could make his life very difficult if it was not returned to me immediately, his step-sister saw sense. I do not think we shall be hearing from Mrs Younge again, especially if Wickham wishes me to help him in the future."

"Do you think Wickham was conspiring with her?"

"Not a doubt of it, but of course I have no proof. In any case, I should not wish to make Lydia's existence any more miserable than it must be. If I'd had him bound over, it is only your sister who would have truly suffered. He is stupid enough to think that I do not know what he was about, and I daresay he thinks he has got away with it. I have my men keeping an eye on them; do not fear. At least we know that the Wickhams are back in Newcastle and Mrs Younge is returned to her usual haunts in London."

"I will never forgive myself for doubting you," said Elizabeth, reddening with shame at the recollection of all that had passed.

"No, it was not your fault. When I now consider how you must have perceived my actions alone, I cannot blame you. I should have told you, but I must admit, it is a part of my history and that of my family's past that I wished to forget and did not want to acknowledge. I still cannot believe the truth of the matter. When I consider the character of the man most dear to me, he who was the most excellent of men, honest and upright..." Darcy paused to collect himself. Elizabeth thought her heart would break as she listened to him pour out his soul. "I have never spoken of this to another living person; it is the most difficult episode of my life."

"My darling Mr Darcy, speak no more. What is done belongs to the past and cannot be changed. Only know that I am honoured that you have been able to share your thoughts with me. I love you so much, Fitzwilliam."

Mr Darcy turned to face his beloved wife. At last he could look into her eyes. "I love you too, Elizabeth."

∗ ∗ ∗

Georgiana could hardly contain her excitement. She had never dreamed that this day would arrive when just a few weeks ago she had felt the disgrace of her foolish conduct, but today Mr Thomas Butler was being allowed to visit.

Mr Darcy had suggested to Elizabeth that she should chaperone the young couple at all times, but after sitting in the drawing room for fifteen minutes, listening to the polite conversation of those who know their every word is being heard, Elizabeth excused herself by saying she had just remembered something important she had to divulge to Mrs Reynolds about the dinner menu.

In an instant Tom crossed the room. He could not wait a moment longer. Before Georgiana could protest she was in his arms.

"Oh, do be careful, Tom," chided Georgiana playfully, "Elizabeth may return at any moment.

"I couldn't care if your brother were to walk in on us this minute," Tom cried, taking her hands in his and drawing them towards him. "How I have missed you."

"I've missed you too, Tom," cried Georgiana, gazing up at him with adoration.

Tom drew back to regard the face of the girl he loved and traced his finger down her cheek, tilting her chin to raise her lips within his view. How soft and inviting they looked; her mouth appeared more beautiful to him than in all his dreams of longing. "I have been denied this pleasure for too long, Miss Darcy," he whispered, caressing her lips with his own. "Please don't stop me now, I beg you."

Georgiana had no intention of stopping him; submitting to his sweet kisses, she felt she had never known such happiness. To have Tom at her side holding her in his arms was heavenly.

"I never thought this day would ever come," said Tom, reluctantly letting her go at last. "I have so much to tell you, and I cannot think where to begin. Oh, Georgiana, I have been bursting to tell you my news. You will not believe my good fortune."

"Thomas, tell me quickly before anyone comes. I cannot wait to hear all that you have been doing. Is it about your work?"

"It is not. Indeed, it has nothing whatsoever to do with work. I might never work again if I did not want to, but then I would become a very lazy fellow, and I am sure that Mrs Butler would not like that one bit. That is, if Mrs Butler should become my wife."

"Tom, what are you saying?" interrupted Georgiana. "You are running on the like of which I never heard before. What do you mean about not working ever again, and who is Mrs Butler? I am sure you cannot refer to your mother."

"Georgiana, I am made! Lord Featherstone is the hero of the hour. I have naturally spent a lot of time with him lately, and when I confessed to him my reasons for suddenly quitting the Lake District, he wanted to know all about it. Having never had the good luck to fall in love himself, he has taken our plight to his heart. He believes that we should be allowed our portion of happiness with no further delay. Georgiana, I am to have an estate of my own in Nottinghamshire and a settlement of six thousand pounds a year. In short, he has made it possible for us to marry as soon as we might wish. You are the Mrs Butler I hope will become my wife... that is, if you have not changed your mind. Please, Miss Darcy, perhaps I should have gone to your brother first, but I could not wait to ask. Will you marry me?"

He knelt before Georgiana, his eyes imploring her to agree to his desires.

"Thomas Butler, of course I will. I cannot wait to be your Mrs Butler," Georgiana cried, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him once more.

∗ ∗ ∗

The wedding of Miss Georgiana Darcy to Mr Thomas Butler took place the following month in the chapel at Pemberley. The bride looked as beautiful and as happy as a young bride should in the company of her new husband, who beamed with pride throughout the proceedings. A small family affair, apart from the presence of Lord Featherstone and Mrs Butler, the only other witnesses present were Mr and Mrs Darcy, which was just as Georgiana had wished it to be.

Despite the lack of guests, congratulations and felicitations came from all corners of England: from the Bennets, the Bingleys, the Collinses, and even Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself. Every missive contained good wishes for the young couple, who left for a little holiday to the seaside as soon as they left the church door.

Arriving too late to be read by the Butlers was a letter from Mrs Lydia Wickham. Mrs Darcy opened it one morning as she and Fitzwilliam sat at breakfast. On reading its contents, she found it most troubling and could hardly fathom its meaning. She decided to read it out loud in order to see what Fitzwilliam might think. The letter read:

Westcott Buildings, Newcastle

Dearest Elizabeth,

I hope this letter finds you well. We are always the last to be informed of important events within the family, it seems, or I should have sent my felicitations sooner. Wickie and I wish Mr and Mrs Butler every happiness; some people certainly appear to have all the luck! It is not as if he needed a fortune of his own, but they will be as rich as kings, I daresay.

Lizzy, I am enclosing a letter I found when I was clearing out some of Wickie's things. I do not know what to make of it. I know you have a clever eye for a puzzle and wonder what you think it can possibly mean. Have you ever heard of Viola Wickham? I am sure I have not! It seems from this intelligence that she is George's sister, but I never heard of her in my life and my own enquiries have come to naught. It is something of a mystery--and I can't make head nor tail of why she should mention Pemberley if she was nothing at all to the Wickhams. There is the curious mention of duping the father and son--can she mean Mr Darcy? I wondered if your husband could throw any light on the matter--I am most anxious to learn what it is all about. George would be so cross that I have been through his things--I didn't mention the letter to him, but I would be most interested to hear what you make of it for it is a complete riddle to me. I didn't know who else to ask. It is an old letter but most intriguing. Write back soon.

Yours ever,

Lydia

P.S. I am a little short for the rent this month. Do not scold me, but I could not resist the straw bonnet on display in the milliner's!

The enclosed letter was unfolded once more. Elizabeth had read it twice through already but could not be sure she understood its contents. She read it out loud to Mr Darcy before passing it to him across the table. He read it to himself. That he was disturbed by its contents was clear.

December 20, 1792

Dear George,

Thank you for your letter, I am very well. I cannot tell you what it meant to me to receive a letter with such heartfelt sentiments. My love for you is returned and ever constant; I trust and pray we will be united very soon.

You ask so many questions about him, I do not know what to tell you except to say that the babe has such a look of the Wickhams about him; indeed, his eyes are yours. I know you would recognise him as our own and that you would laugh to see it. I have named him for his father, of course, though our dear sister assumes that person's initials are entirely different... she has no suspicion of the truth, thank heaven, nor has anyone else. Our secret is safe, Georgie. Duping both the father and the son at Pemberley has been vastly entertaining--I have come into a little money, though how long it will last I cannot say. I am in such dire need of everything new and the rent our sister charges me is not cheap. I am assured of seeing the child from time to time if I wish it, but though he amuses me, you know he will be better off where he is going. Besides, so long as I have the comfort of your company I could not desire anything more. Georgie, will you come and see me soon? I cannot bear to be without you. Are you not a little curious to see him before he is gone forever? Such a bonny babe you never did see. I cannot write more now for fear of discovery, but I promise to write whenever I can. Come soon,

I am yours ever,

A loving sister always,

Viola.

"I have read it twice through and cannot make it out entirely. But Darcy, if what sense I can make of it were true, it would seem that what you have formerly thought about your father couldn't be the case. What do you think?"

There was a pause. There was a minute's silence during which every emotion seemed to pass across her husband's face. At last Darcy raised his head, engaging Elizabeth with his dark eyes which penetrated hers with an expression of triumph. "It is as I always hoped. My father's memory is vindicated. I have thought the worst of him and now I know he was the very generous man I always believed him to be. I knew of my father's innocence in all of this; I knew it in my heart and yet I doubted him. I do not think I shall ever forgive myself."

"You are not responsible. The duplicity of others is to blame. Fitzwilliam, you must not reproach yourself. Let us celebrate the fact that here is proof that your father is entirely guiltless in this whole affair. But I cannot help wondering about the truth of the matter, though perhaps the whole episode would be better laid to rest--I have no desire to learn anything of the Wickhams' secrets. One would presume that your father must have taken pity on the disgraced Miss Wickham. He must have been a very kind and understanding man."

Elizabeth watched her husband's countenance grow pale. Fitzwilliam sat very still in deep contemplation. His expression, though serious and grave, started to show some signs of relief after a moment or two. He raked his fingers through his hair once or twice, but his eyes were fixed on his plate as he spoke, avoiding Elizabeth's scrutiny of his countenance.

"I do not think we will ever know the complete truth, nor do I wish to dwell on it further. It does not concern us; we have all the information we need to know. My father was an excellent man until his dying day... I only hope that some day I might grow to be more like him."

Elizabeth stood up and ran to his side. "Oh, my darling, you need never worry ever again. You know your father must have been a wonderful man to show such compassion for Miss Wickham. Just like his son, who is also most excellent in every way!"

Elizabeth threw her arms about his neck, kissing the top of his head just to confirm her delight. It was most fortunate that just at that moment she could not read Mr Darcy's mind or his thoughts as he contemplated the thorough wickedness of the steward's son he had grown up with at Pemberley.

∗ ∗ ∗

The end of May heralded the beginning of summer, sunny days perfumed with the heady scents of lilac in the syringa grove, which was a favourite haunt for the Darcys' afternoon walk. The white blooms nodding their heads in the soft breeze were a reminder that Mr Butler's design for the grove and Darcy's Hall (as the folly was re-named by Elizabeth) had been most successful. For Elizabeth it was the happiest time of her marriage to date, having found a new understanding with Fitzwilliam and a deep sense of satisfaction that life was just getting better and better. The knowledge that Fitzwilliam had chosen to share in divulging past secrets of Pemberley House had only brought them closer together, and in their newfound intimacy love flourished with a deeper profundity.

"How wonderful it is to be in Derbyshire, the most divine county in all of England. I think this will always be my preferred season at Pemberley," Elizabeth said, as they walked along arm in arm. "It is such a perfect time with everything coming into flower and blossoming into beauty."

"Just like its mistress," said Mr Darcy, laying his hand over hers in a tender gesture. "I have never seen you look more beautiful than you do today, my love. If I could paint your portrait this is how I would like to see you forever more: on this day, dressed in yellow with your dark eyes dancing with amusement."

"I am amused, I confess, at the thought of you painting my portrait. I never dreamed you had such a creative spirit when first I met you, though I have learned something of your talent for poetry. Tell me, are your artistic endeavours as exciting as your aptitude for rhyming a couplet?"