The Ballad of Gregoire Darcy (38 page)

“I knew about the trust for Joseph.”

“Yes. And he gave that before the child was born. Mr. Mastai—that is his name, though we never utter it here—is very penitent. Perhaps because he is supposed to be celibate.Yes, Mary had possibly the largest dowry in England, but we never made it public. If she had wanted to, we would have. You've struck gold, Dr. Bertrand.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Bennet, that is not the real gold I struck today,” he said. “And my name is Andrew.”

Although the engagement of Dr. Bertrand and Mary Bennet was no surprise to the Derbyshire crowd, it was an excitement nonetheless, especially in Elizabeth's dull days with Darcy gone. Well, they were hardly
dull,
with one son and three daughters, but they were less full.

“Where will we spend Christmas?” Jane asked as she sat with her sister on the terrace of Kirkland, discussing the news. “The wedding is close enough that we must stay in Hertfordshire.”

“If Hertfordshire can hold us. And if they do not have a Town wedding,” Elizabeth said. “She writes that they have not decided. His parents may demand it. Or the very opposite, when they see the English commoners that their son is marrying into.” She was interrupted by Monkey jumping up on the serving table and grabbing a scone in his mouth. “Monkey!”

“What's this about English commoners?” Bingley said, as Monkey's arrival could only mean that he was not far behind.

“Dr. Bertrand's parents are French nobility. Their name isn't even Bertrand. They changed it while hiding during the Revolution. So they must not think much of us, whatever our fortune,” Elizabeth said.

“Is that right?” Jane said, reaching for her husband's arm as he stood by her side and Monkey climbed back up onto his shoulder, taking the scone with him. “Would they consider us commoners?”

“To be noble, you must have more ball gowns than you could ever wear and be deep in very fashionable debt.You are neither, my dear, so I suppose we do not fit the bill and are unsuitable company for Mr. and Mrs. Bertrand,” he said. “What's this about the wedding? Finally?”

“I think the only one still in a state of indecision was Mary,” Elizabeth said. “The rest of us were soundly aligned long ago. What a family she had to contend with!”

“He is a sweet man,” Jane said. “And he helped to save Grégoire's life.”

“Speaking of him,” Bingley said. “Any idea when they'll be back from—where did they go, Scotland?”

“The Isle of Man.”

“The Isle of Man?” Bingley shrugged. Darcy had many holdings in many places and didn't discuss them. “So—any news?”

“The last I heard, they would stay for a few days. If they've written to say that they've departed, it has not yet reached me, sadly,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, I suppose we'll hear soon. Mrs. Darcy.” He bowed with as much dignity as he could with Monkey clinging to his arm, and went back inside. He and Georgie had just returned from the visit with the Maddoxes, and he had been restless ever since.

“Your husband has lost his playmate,” Elizabeth said, and Jane did her best not to laugh about the reference to Darcy's absence. She was not entirely successful.

The post being what it was, Elizabeth received a letter that they were leaving the island to come home only a day before they made their reappearance.The Darcy carriage was followed by wagons of shipping boxes, and one carrying a wooden box that could almost be mistaken for a coffin. But as both brothers got out of the carriage, it could hardly be that.

“Papa!” Because her legs were longer, it was Sarah, not Cassandra, who made it to Darcy first. Anne Darcy was now seven and did not run around like an enthusiastic toddler. Most of the time, that was. She was third, though, to greet her papa. Then the adults emerged to welcome Darcy and Grégoire.

“Lizzy,” he said with his second daughter in his arms, and leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek. “Georgiana. Lord Kincaid.”

“Mr. Darcy. Mr. Grégoire,” Lord Kincaid said. “I trust the trip was a success.”

“Yes,” Grégoire said. “We stayed only long enough to reclaim some personal items left on the site before it could be sold.”

“Books,” Darcy said. “Lots of books.” He turned to Mr. Reed, who stood quietly at his side. “Have the last wagon brought up alongside the chapel.”

As they entered, Darcy and Grégoire were brought up on the latest news about the engagement, which delighted Grégoire. Darcy said that it was a fine—a very fine—choice. “Where is Geoffrey?”

“He is at Kirkland,” Elizabeth explained, and they sent someone to summon him. As they left to refresh themselves from a long journey, Darcy made a strange request—that Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Geoffrey join them in the chapel at two. They said yes, and he left to get cleaned up.

An hour later, the specified people gathered in the tiny chapel. Elizabeth realized that everyone but she was a Darcy by blood, and Lord Kincaid had been excluded.

“Geoffrey,” Darcy said gravely, “we decided that you're old enough to be part of this, but you're not to say a word of this to anyone without our permission.” He cleared his throat. “Even Miss Georgiana Bingley. Understood?”

Geoffrey nodded.

Darcy sighed and continued, with a look of encouragement from his brother. “Our father—Geoffrey Darcy—had an older brother. We had an uncle. His name was Gregory.”

“Why have I never heard of him?” Georgiana asked. “When did he die?”

“You were two,” he said, “and by then, any traces of him had already been erased from Pemberley's records. I knew of him because I met him twice, first when I was a little boy and again when I was fifteen, just before he died. On the Isle of Man.” He continued before they could question him further. “He was mad. His death was faked when he was of age and he was removed from the records so it wouldn't…hurt our father's marriage prospects. By the time of your birth, Georgiana, the only ones who knew of him were our
father, our mother, and me. The house where he lived remained in the ledgers until recently, when someone made an offer for it. And seeing that Father named Grégoire after his brother, whom he loved very much, I decided to…take him there.”

“He left a journal,” Grégoire said as the audience sat quietly, attempting to absorb this terrible information. “When he was a child, he was raised to be master of Pemberley, but when he started showing signs of mental illness, a doctor was brought in who probably drove him mad with his treatments. When he turned seventeen, he asked to be disinherited. Father would inherit, and Uncle Gregory would disappear. All of Gregory's portraits were burned. The only ones we have are some tiny ones we found on the island.”

Georgiana was the first person to speak. “Darcy—you met him! While I was alive! Why didn't you tell me when I came of age?”

“Father told me never to speak of him, and I listened,” he said quietly. “I would never have spoken of him again, but this sale came up. It was the way they both wanted it. Georgiana, I'm sorry. I truly am.”

Elizabeth raised her objection. “Why did you not tell us when—”

“I did tell Dr. Maddox,” he interrupted. “I told him in Austria, when I lost my senses. I made him swear never to speak of it to anyone. Apparently, he kept that promise.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, each with his or her own thoughts. Elizabeth looked at her husband. He looked tired, and not from traveling.

“We decided—if everyone here agrees—that he should be written back into the family,” Grégoire said. “Or, at the very least, reburied here at Pemberley. Along with all of his books and his notes and his personal effects, we've brought
him
. What's left of his body, that is.”

“Did he want that?”

“We'll never know,” Darcy answered. “He never said, and there's no one alive who can answer that question. Geoffrey, you are not to tell your sisters what happened to Uncle Gregory and why he lived
far away.Your mother and I will tell them when they're old enough. And Georgiana, you should tell your husband.”

She nodded numbly.

“I'll tell George,” he added. “Just him. He deserves to know the whole of it.” He didn't need to say why. Those who knew understood perfectly.

They filed out in silence, each with his or her own thoughts. It was time for Grégoire's prayer. So their last wagon had been carrying a casket after all, even if it was filled only with bones.

The next day, they had the workers from the Isle of Man pull the edge of one side of the fence around the Pemberley graveyard back far enough to dig a grave. The tombstone would come later. Grégoire put up a wooden cross with his uncle's name on it. For the time being, it would suffice.

“Why can't he be buried alongside Father?” Georgiana whispered to Darcy.

“Because he can't be buried in consecrated ground,” he said. “He committed suicide.”

She leaned into him, and he hugged his little sister as a local vicar said prayers over the barely covered grave. Gregory Darcy, lost for so many years, was finally buried in his home soil, near generations who had come before him and leaving space for generations who would come after him.

CHAPTER 25

ON DECEMBER 15, 1817, Dr. Andrew Bertrand and Mary Bennet were joined in marriage in the same church where her four sisters had all been wedded to their
current
husbands. As Mr. Bennet gave away his last daughter, there was nary a dry female eye in the house. Normally, children were not invited to a wedding ceremony, but an exception was made for Joseph, who looked nervous until his mother smiled at him as she walked down the aisle.

Dr. Bertrand's parents did attend the wedding, and made a point of speaking only French at the wedding breakfast afterward. To their horror, almost all of the people present spoke at least some French, and understood them perfectly.The newly married couple were too happy to be distracted, and no major social disasters occurred before they left for a week in Town, leaving Joseph behind (in a shower of kisses) with his family.

Christmas, it had been decided, would be at Longbourn this year—no one would be missing, no one abroad, no one ill (aside from Mrs. Bennet, but they were all adjusted to that reality), no one dying, and no one ready to give birth. For that, everyone was grateful. All five former Bennet sisters under one roof, with their children and husbands, were quite enough. Lord and Lady Kincaid had returned to Scotland, taking Grégoire with them for a time. The Hursts and Dr. Daniel Maddox and Caroline Maddox, along with their children, were at Brian and Princess Nadezhda's estate.

Some of the children were not happy with this news. They loved their crazy aunt and uncle and their crazy guest. “Christmas comes every year,” Bingley reminded his children. “If you got
everything
you wanted one year, then the others wouldn't be special.”