Chapter 13
After dinner, the Duchess wished to retire early.
She was exhausted not only by the journey but also by the many revelations of the day.
The family witnessed, for the first time in fifteen years, a show of tenderness between master and mistress.
The Duke personally escorted his wife to her chambers while patting her hand and speaking softly to her.
The sisters, accompanied by the housekeeper, began their postponed house tour. Again, there were continual ‘oohs and ahs.’
The housekeeper helpfully added that the gallery could accommodate over one hundred and fifty people for a state dinner. As the group moved on, Kitty slowly trailed them, looking at the paintings with awe.
“I shall spend all my waking hours here, unless I go shopping,” Kitty exclaimed joyously.
Mary was next to fall in love with a room—the music room. The glorious pianoforte there had seen many renowned virtuosos, including George Frideric Handel.
By the time the party went back downstairs to view the library, only Jane and Elizabeth were left.
“Ah, this is what I call a proper library—leather chairs around a warm fire, filled bookshelves all the way to the ceiling… I cannot wait to climb the ladder to the upper stacks!” exclaimed Elizabeth.
Mrs. Moffitt was heartened that the Duke’s daughters were lively and without airs, so unlike the young ladies in other noble houses she had served through the years.
Those ladies were, almost without exception, bored and pompous.
The help was invisible to them and yet was expected to submit to their every whim.
She felt fortunate to have secured her position at Northampton House, where there had been no womenfolk.
She had been apprehensive about the new duke and his family, but so far, she was well pleased.
All the young ladies were beautiful, and the Duchess would be quite regal once she convinced herself that she was indeed the rightful owner of her title.
She wagered the eldest two daughters would not live at the house long before they were snatched up by worthy gentlemen.
Noticing that Lady Jane had not expressed a partiality toward any room in the house, the housekeeper ventured to ask, “M’lady, have you found a favorite among the rooms you have seen?”
“Oh!” Jane looked surprised to be addressed by her title, but answered evenly, “Mrs. Moffitt, every room is beautiful, each in its own way. I truly cannot pick a favorite. My interest lies in creating fragrant and healing waters. I hope you will show me the still room tomorrow as I do not wish to disturb the staff at this late hour. The room is below stairs, is it not?”
Mrs. Moffitt decided that the eldest ducal daughter was her favorite—so gentle, kind, and graceful. She looked forward to serving a house full of active, unpretentious ladies.
◆◆◆
Elizabeth woke up at the crack of dawn, as was her wont. She was disoriented because her room, illuminated only by a low-burning fire in the fireplace, was unfamiliar and dark.
She turned to her left to see whether Jane was awake, but was cruelly reminded that she and Jane now slept in separate bedrooms. The enormous bed with an embroidered canopy over it was for her alone.
“Ugh! So many changes! Too many!”
She left her bed to peek out of the window overlooking the park. It was cold outside, and her breath was quickly fogging up the glass.
Just then, as if by magic, her maid came into the room. The bit of noise she had made shuffling around was enough to alert the maid that she was ready for the day. This maid, however, was not Nancy, who had unpacked her trunks the day before.
“Good morning, m’lady. My name is Jenny. I am to serve as your lady’s maid until Mrs. Moffitt has found you someone suitable. There is hot water in the dressing room for a bath whenever you are ready for it.”
Jenny was extremely competent. In no time at all, she helped her mistress undress and climb into the spacious copper tub—so much better than the hip bath she had used at Longbourn.
Elizabeth sighed contentedly. Soaking in hot bathwater next to a warm fire on a cold day, and in her own dressing room, was beyond heavenly.
This… I can get used to!
When Jenny came in to check on her, Elizabeth wished to know her new maid better.
“Jenny, you are very well-spoken and have done an excellent job so far. I will ask Mrs. Moffitt to assign you to me permanently. Would you object?” Elizabeth asked solicitously, even though she did not anticipate Jenny refusing.
“Thank you, m’lady, but I am on loan from Darcy House until Mrs. Moffitt has found enough trained lady’s maids for this household of six ladies.”
“Darcy House…” Elizabeth murmured. That gentleman certainly had a way of exerting his influence everywhere: on her papa, and now in her bedchamber!
“Should not the new Mrs. Darcy need your service?” asked Elizabeth.
“Ma’am, the new Mrs. Darcy does not live at Darcy House. Mrs. Hammond thought she would and sent for me from Pemberley, Mr. Darcy’s estate.”
“I know Mr. Darcy and have heard of Pemberley. Is Pemberley as grand and wonderful as its reputation?”
“Ma’am, Pemberley is more beautiful than any place I have ever seen, except, of course, for His Grace’s estates.
And you are friends with Mr. Darcy. You must already know he is the best master anyone can hope for.
All of his tenants want their children to work at the manor house, and I was fortunate to have Mrs. Reynolds pick me. ”
Elizabeth did not expect this gushing praise of the man she was certain she despised.
However, lately, there had been accolade upon accolade heaped on him from every direction.
But to be so beloved by a maid! She could not reconcile the vast chasm between her first impressions of the gentleman and the paragon emerging from everyone else’s opinion.
“How is he the best master? I wish to know so I can become a good mistress myself.”
“M’lady, you are already an excellent mistress.
You speak to me, a servant, without airs.
Mr. Darcy is like that, seeing to his dependents with the best of care.
I am of a similar age as he, and he has always been kind—since he was a boy.
Sometimes, he even came into the school to teach us what he had learned from his tutors! ”
“Oh, that is unexpected. You went to school on the estate?”
“Yes, ma’am. The late Lady Anne, Mr. Darcy’s mother, set up schools for the children of the tenants and staff at Pemberley, as well as the surrounding villages, so I can read and write.
I was trained as a lady’s maid, but there has been no mistress at Pemberley for a long time, which left me with a lot of time to do as I pleased.
I sometimes teach at the school set up at Lambton, and I have time to read.
Do not be alarmed, m’lady, I read only the Bible and instructional works by Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Trimmer. ”
Jenny had a lot to say when the topic interested her. Elizabeth rather wanted Jenny as her maid.
“So, Pemberley is like paradise? Have there been no scoundrels and rakes among the residents?” Elizabeth asked teasingly.
By now, she had formed the impression that either Mr. Darcy or Mr. Wickham was disreputable, and over the last few days, Mr. Wickham had begun to look much more likely to be the villain.
To test her theory, Elizabeth asked, “Mr. George Wickham?”
The maid’s face turned ghostly pale. She staggered.
“Jenny, are you all right? What is the matter?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.
Jenny calmed down after a few moments. She was obviously distressed and said hesitantly, “Ma’am, if you wish to replace me with another, I’ll leave this house right away.”
“Why, Jenny, I wish no such thing! Why are you so troubled by my mentioning Mr. Wickham? I wish to know the truth. I shall hold nothing against you.”
Jenny did not seem convinced. She kept her head down and sobbed.
Elizabeth was sitting in the bath and could not reach out to comfort the woman.
She said instead, “Come here, Jenny. It is very important for me to know the truth. Mr. Wickham said unsavory things about Mr. Darcy, and I believed him. From your reaction, I begin to see that Mr. Wickham slandered your good master. I will not blame you for anything Mr. Wickham might have done to you…”
Jenny relaxed and said with more determination, “I will tell you everything, ma’am, to clear Mr. Darcy’s name.” She took a deep breath before continuing.
“George Wickham is the son…”
Elizabeth interrupted and said, “I know Mr. Wickham is the son of the steward and the godson of the late Mr. Darcy. You could just tell me what Mr. Wickham did to you…or your family.”
Jenny seemed unprepared to hear her mistress’s knowledge of the scoundrel. She gravely continued.
“George Wickham is three years older than me.
He was sent away to school with the young master.
When the old master was around, he behaved.
As soon as the master turned his back, his true nature came out.
He fought with the boys on the estate. When he lost, he went to the late master to tell untrue tales about that boy.
Fortunately, his own father was a just man and convinced the old master not to punish the boys, saying, ‘Boys will be boys’ or some such.
When he grew older, he started bothering the girls in the neighborhood.
By the time I was sixteen, I had heard of at least two girls leaving the estate under unexplained circumstances.