5. Chapter 5 The Housekeeper’s Testimony
Chapter 5: The Housekeeper’s Testimony
Sunday, 17 May
Matlock House, London
Darcy
R ichard strode towards me in the hall and gave my hand a hearty shake. “Good morning, Cousin. As you may surmise, I received your message. I congratulate you for obtaining Miss Bennet’s hand.”
I had written to my cousin last night and asked him to be present when I met with Lord Matlock today. “Thank you, Richard.” I patted his upper arm and released his hand. “Is Berkeley at home?” Lord Matlock’s heir, Viscount Berkeley, known to his immediate family as Henry, usually fenced on Thursday mornings.
“No, he already left for Angelo’s.”
“That is just as well. I should rather not share my news with him until I have obtained your father’s support.”
Richard grinned. “Ah, conquer the primary obstacle first, and the next one will be child’s play, huh?”
“That is the general idea. Have you seen your father this morning?”
“Not yet. Why do you ask?”
“No doubt Lady Catherine has been here and has done her utmost to convince him that Miss Bennet is a fortune-hunter.”
“You are correct.” The singular feminine inflexion belonged to Lady Matlock. “And she made her opinions known to me as well.”
I whipped towards my aunt, whose noiseless, slippered tread had allowed her to sneak up on us. Richard and I exchanged greetings with her.
“Never before had I observed my sister-in-law in such a disturbed state. She looked as though she had not slept in a week. I assumed her to be ill, but she denied being unwell.” Lady Matlock’s gaze flitted to Richard and back to me. “Am I to understand you have committed yourself to a lady unknown to me?”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth Bennet and I have an understanding.”
Her fingers closed around her silk scarf. “Oh dear. I never should have expected this—from Henry, yes, but not from you.”
“Do not fret, Mother.” Richard patted Lady Matlock’s arm. “I have met Miss Bennet, and she is a fine lady.”
“Have you? Ah, and I suppose you are here to advocate in support of your cousin.”
“Yes, you are correct.” Richard glanced at his watch. “Papa expects Darcy and me to join him in his study. You ought to come as well.”
His suggestion had merit: Lady Matlock’s support would be vital to Elizabeth’s acceptance in town.
“Yes, I agree.” She led the way.
We entered my uncle’s sizeable study, which featured a formidable mahogany desk situated between a pair of large windows. He kissed Lady Matlock’s cheek, held Richard’s shoulder while clapping him on the back, and gave me a more subdued greeting before directing us to seats.
Lord Matlock beheld me, and his visage took on a dark cast. “Last night, my sister demanded to see me. I had never observed her in such a state of high dudgeon, and she looked quite ill. She maintained you had been taken in by a penniless mercenary.” He released a harsh laugh. “I have never heard such slum! I trust you have an inkling of how she fell prey to this misconception.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me. My choice of wife will surprise many in our circle. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is neither rich nor well-connected, but what she lacks in material advantages is more than compensated for in her character, intelligence, and amiability. I am resolute to marry her and no other.”
Whilst Lady Matlock’s head canted downwards, Lord Matlock’s mouth opened and closed several times without him uttering a word.
My cousin coughed. “I met Miss Bennet while Darcy and I stayed at Rosings. She is a charming and self-assured lady who I believe will make Darcy a splendid wife. And he ought to be grateful she lacks a fortune—otherwise, I should have pursued her for myself.”
Despite the gleam in Richard’s eyes signifying his intent to tease me, I glared at him.
My uncle swayed his dour mien from me to Richard and back. “So the pair of you have been taken in by this temptress—she must be a talented one indeed.”
“You are speaking of my future wife.” My voice descended towards a growl.
“Father, Miss Bennet is not mercenary. Darcy can explain why this is a certainty.” Richard gripped my shoulder and gave me a significant look: he wanted me to relate my failed proposal.
I nodded my assent and provided a concise account of my rejected marriage offer at Hunsford Parsonage.
“ Good God —she refused you!” Lord Matlock’s voice boomed throughout the room. He and my aunt exchanged astonished glances.
“At the time, my bewilderment rivalled yours.” I provided a summary of my past acquaintance with Elizabeth, including the lies Wickham had told her. I further revealed a protracted discussion had been necessary before she would agree to see me again in London.
My aunt adjusted her seat closer to me. “Is it possible Miss Bennet did not realise the extent of your wealth and property?”
“Or of your connexions ?” added my uncle.
“She had a fair knowledge of my affluence and holdings, but my riches did not matter to her. She will not marry for financial gain. My character is what she values.”
Lady Matlock’s hand flickered at me. “Tell us about the lady’s family.”
“Her mother and younger sisters lack proper decorum at times, but they are no worse than Berkeley or Lady Catherine. Miss Bennet stays in town at the home of her uncle Mr. Gardiner, who owns a successful import business.”
My aunt drew in a quick breath. “Dear me.”
“She is residing with a tradesman ?” My uncle blanched.
“Yes. Mr. Gardiner and his wife are educated and genteel.” I steeled my spine. “Do not mistake me—my decision is final. Although I should appreciate your approval, I will marry Miss Bennet with or without it.”
Lord Matlock rested his elbow upon the chair. “Even as a lad, you demonstrated superior judgment to most men of my acquaintance. I cannot imagine you would err in a decision of this significance. Very well, my boy, you have my support.”
Thank the stars . The tension in my back dissipated.
“And my wife will do her part as well.” He fixed upon Lady Matlock with an intent look.
My aunt, though, wore a deepening frown. “I wish you would reconsider, Darcy. If you were to make an advantageous match, you would confer a benefit to Georgiana and your future children. My goodness, think of your parents. Do you suppose they would agree with your plan to wed an unknown, penniless country lady?”
“With all due respect, I have contemplated the possible negative ramifications of my choice, and they do not sway me. If my parents still lived, their objections would be apt to mirror yours. In the end, though, they would not deny me a love match with a gentleman’s daughter.”
Her attitude shrank. “Well, it is plain to see you are determined to have your way. You may be assured I shall do what is best for the family.”
“Thank you, Aunt, Uncle.” The pressure in my chest abated, yet the most troubling subject remained to be addressed. “Lady Catherine has made a disturbing allegation.” I recounted her declaration and threat.
Richard groaned. “This fiction from Lady Catherine is too fantastic to be true. She must be desperate to have you as a son-in-law to concoct such a preposterous tale.”
“She must be mad!” Lord Matlock shifted towards his wife. “A scandal like this would be disastrous for the entire family.”
“Yes, and your sister is not ignorant of the danger.” Lady Matlock tapped the arm of her chair. “I am certain she would never make this story public.”
“The foolish woman!” Lord Matlock slapped a hand on his thigh. “I agree with Richard. She invented this atrocious lie.”
“Perhaps, but I must determine the truth. If I have a brother, I cannot disregard that fact.”
Richard’s fingers brushed over his chin. “If the tale is true, how will you proceed?”
“If my brother exists and he is the first born, he must receive his birthright.”
“Good Lord!” My uncle rubbed his forehead. “It would be a damnable shame if you gave up Pemberley. I advise you against pursuing this Pandora’s box. What if your brother is an unprincipled man? This could be disastrous—not just for you and Georgiana but for everyone dependent upon Pemberley’s success.”
“Nevertheless, I must find out if my brother exists.”
My uncle rose to his feet. “In that case, we ought to determine whether there is any validity to the yarn as soon as possible. Shall we pay my sister a call?”
I stood. “Yes.”
de Bourgh House, London
Darcy
I waited with Lord and Lady Matlock in the opulent drawing-room: a visual onslaught of gaudy furnishings in shades of gold, black, and red. Richard had declined to accompany us, citing his need to return to the barracks.
After a few minutes, Lady Catherine lumbered in. She bore little resemblance to the fierce woman who had confronted me yesterday. Her tall form had a hunched appearance, and a heavy application of face powder failed to mask the swollen areas surrounding her red-rimmed eyes. I strode to her. “Lady Catherine, what ails you?”
“Nothing, I am not ill.” Her gaze progressed to include Lord and Lady Matlock. “There is no use in concealment any longer. Anne is dying. She has brain cancer, and the doctors believe she has less than two months to live.”
Anne is dying? I kneaded my fingers against my sternum. “Aunt, I am…so sorry.”
“Thank you, Darcy.” She sounded faint, almost unrecognisable. I took her hand and gave it a squeeze, then moved aside as my uncle and Lady Matlock came forwards.
Lord Matlock held his sister’s shoulders. “Catherine, this is dreadful news.”
“This is so awful and unexpected.” Lady Matlock wrung her hands.
“Are you certain there is no mistake?” My uncle glanced at me. “Darcy’s doctor has a fine reputation. We must get a second opinion.”
“Three of the finest physicians in town have examined her, and they are in agreement.” With a shudder, Lady Catherine turned to me. “Anne had stated in the past she did not want to marry you, but I assumed she had spoken to preserve her pride—since you had never proposed to her. When she received this diagnosis, I fixed upon the notion that as your wife she may find happiness in her final weeks. But I was mistaken. She stated in no uncertain terms today she has never wanted to marry anyone. I am very sorry, Darcy. Neither you nor Miss Bennet deserved my interference and vitriol.”
“I understand and forgive you.”
“Please extend an apology on my behalf to Miss Bennet as well.”
“Yes, I shall do so.”
Lady Catherine nodded. “No one can deny she is well below our social sphere, but if you are set upon having her, I suppose you could have done worse.”
I bit the inside of my mouth, tempering my response. “She is the best possible match for me.”
“Spoken like a fool in love.” Lady Catherine elevated her posture and directed a bony finger at me. “Mark my words, a strong-willed woman such as she will make you a contentious wife.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
My uncle took Lady Catherine’s hand. “You and Anne ought to come and stay with us.”
“No, thank you. Anne has accepted her fate and wants…um…to spend her last days at her beloved estate. We leave for Rosings tomorrow. You and your family are welcome to join us there.”
Lord Matlock shifted towards Lady Matlock. “I am obligated to remain in town for at least the next two weeks, but I believe my wife may be able to go sooner.”
She touched his arm. “Yes, I also have engagements I must keep, but I shall go to Rosings as often as possible. And I am certain Richard and Henry will do the same.”
Lady Catherine raised her sight to me. “Darcy, despite everything, I hope you will come and stay for a while too.”
“Yes, of course.” A lump formed in my throat; any time I spent in Kent meant a separation from Elizabeth. “I am obligated to attend my friend’s wedding next week and shall go to Rosings soon afterwards.”
Lady Matlock cleared her throat. May we see Anne now?”
“I am afraid not. She has taken a draught and is asleep. You could come back this evening, perhaps at eight. I expect she will be awake then.”
Lord and Lady Matlock voiced their agreement. I promised to return tonight with Georgiana. We all took seats, and my uncle addressed Lady Catherine. “Did you fabricate the tale of Darcy having a brother?”
“No. Nevertheless, I regret ever having mentioned the matter.” She turned to me. “I pray you will forget I ever disclosed this information.”
“That is not possible.”
“What do you mean? There is nothing to be done. Perhaps if this information had come to light fifteen or twenty years ago, steps could have been taken then. But it is far too late now. No good could come from digging in the past.”
“I must speak to your housekeeper. If she sounds the least bit credible and can provide specifics, I intend to determine whether or not her story is true.”
My aunt’s features contorted. “Darcy, you must not pursue this quagmire—it would be foolhardy and could lead to your ruin!”
“You cannot expect me to overlook the possibility I might have a brother.”
“You can and you must! You are too intelligent to disregard the possible dangers of this action.”
“I am aware of the risks.”
“Are you resolved to go forward with this?”
“Yes.”
Lady Catherine sighed. “Very well.” With laboured movements, she rang for Mrs. Pike.
A round-faced, stout woman entered the room and approached Lady Catherine. “Yes, madam?”
“You will remember my brother, Lord Matlock, and his wife, Lady Matlock.” Lady Catherine gestured to me. “This is my nephew, Mr. Darcy. He wishes to ask you a few questions.”
The colour drained from Mrs. Pike’s complexion as she faced me. “I do not understand, sir. Why would you wish to speak to me ?”
I drew closer and stopped within a few feet of the housekeeper. “Mrs. Pike, you told my aunt that you attended my birth. You said I have a brother. Did you speak the truth?”
She spun towards Lady Catherine. “But madam, you…you warned me if I ever repeated this…”
Lady Catherine fluttered her hand. “Never mind what I said before. Answer my nephew’s questions, for he insists upon knowing what happened.”
The housekeeper shifted back towards me. “God help me, everything I told Lady Catherine is true.”
I pointed to a nearby chair. “Please, sit here.”
She perched on the edge of the seat in a stiff position.
“How old were you in 1784?”
“Twelve, sir.”
“That is exceedingly young to be working with a midwife.”
“Yes, but my mother compelled me to assist her once I reached my tenth birthday. She’d expected me to follow in her footsteps, but I’d no intention of doing so.” Her mouth twisted downwards. “I canna tolerate the sight of blood.”
“Am I the…firstborn?” I swallowed. With one word, this woman could precipitate the loss of my estate.
“Oh yes, sir, without doubt. You were the first and larger of the two babes.”
Thank goodness . I adjusted my weight as a sensation of lightness traversed my veins. With that ponderous concern settled, I focused upon the most implausible piece of her account. “How could my mother have given birth to twins without being aware of the second child?”
“Lady Anne had been in labour for more than four-and-twenty hours before she gave birth to you. She was elated to learn she had a healthy son. But within a few minutes, she succumbed to exhaustion and became insensible. Soon thereafter, the second child came.”
“But others must have been present.”
“No, sir. After your birth, the surgeon instructed most of the maids to go and rest. He took you and the remaining maid to the next room while he inspected and bathed you. Then your brother was born, and my mother grew agitated. I recall the ferocious way she gripped my wrist and pointed at the baby’s eyes—one black, the other bright blue. I’d never seen her so frightened before. She crossed herself and whispered, ‘Satan’s child’ over and over again.”
Mrs. Pike wrapped her arms around her middle. “Mama tucked the infant in a blanket and thrust him into my arms. Then she leaned close to my ear, as though she feared the babe would overhear her. She called the infant a demon. She said if we allowed him to live, he would kill you in order to become the heir and eventually slay his parents as well. She ordered me to leave the house through the servants’ passages, drown the babe in the river, and hide his body in the woods.”
My breath rushed out. “Your mother expected you, a mere child, to murder a newborn baby?”
“Yes. She believed I should be ridding the world of an evil being.”
For pity’s sake. “Your mother based this ridiculous notion upon him having two different coloured eyes?”
“Yes, and because he was a twin. Mama believed twin births were bad omens.” Rows of folds formed upon her forehead. “You see, she held many strange ideas and superstitions. In the past six months before your birth, though, she had grown more unbalanced.”
“Why did you not take the child to the surgeon, to my father, or to one of the maids or other servants?”
“I wish I had done so. But at the time, I did not know whom to trust—I could not be certain they would not agree with my mother. Instead, I took the babe to our neighbours in Lambton, the Woods, a cobbler and his wife who had never been blessed with children. I knew them well and trusted in their kind and generous natures. I recounted my mother’s extreme response to the child but did not reveal his true identity. I told them the baby’s mother had been an unmarried maid passing through the area who could not keep him. The Woods were eager and joyful to take him and raise him as their son.”
“Just a moment now.” Lord Matlock raised his hand. “All babies cry when they are born, do they not? Why did the surgeon not hear the second babe from the next room?”
“Not all infants cry at birth. As I recall, he did not make a sound until I carried him from the house. At that time of the morning, most of the household remained abed. Even if someone had heard him, they may have dismissed the noise as a wailing cat.”
I maintained a study of the housekeeper throughout her narrative; if she had manufactured this incredible tale, she exhibited superlative acting skills. “I am certain there is no cobbler in Lambton named Wood.”
Mrs. Pike returned her sight to me. “The Woods had planned a move to Bath in the following month. They chose to depart sooner so they could present the child in their new neighbourhood as their natural son. They hired a wet-nurse in Lambton and left the next day. I suspect they feared the baby’s mother might change her mind and look for him.”
Bath? Could my brother be so close? My fingers splayed over my cravat. “Do the Woods still reside in Bath?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I have never been to Bath and never heard from them after they moved.”
I met her tearful brown eyes. “Do you swear everything you have said is accurate?”
“Yes, sir. ’Tis God’s honest truth.” The housekeeper lifted a handkerchief to her face. “I’m so very sorry. I understand what I did was wrong, but at the time, I didn’t know any better. Please don’t report me to the magistrate.”
“I shall not. Based upon your testimony, your mother put you, a child of twelve, in a horrific predicament.”
“Thank you for your forbearance, sir.” Mrs. Pike used a hoarse whisper. After she quit the room, Lord Matlock poured and dispensed drinks: sherry for Lady Catherine and Lady Matlock and brandy for himself and me.
“What a shocking account!” My uncle sat across from me. “Darcy, do not make any rash decisions. This situation demands careful deliberation and caution. If we can take the housekeeper at her word, then your younger brother grew up as a tradesman’s son. If you find him now and tell him his true identity, he may become bitter and hostile.”
“Most people would welcome an unexpected connexion to a wealthy family.”
“He might become furious over what he has lost—the parents he will never know and the advantages he never had. Or he may have unrealistic expectations for how you ought to compensate him—as though you bore any fault for his fate.” My uncle swirled the brandy in his glass. “Against my advice, your father conferred benefits to the son of your former steward. From what I understand, the man is an unrepentant blackguard.”
“Yes, but the circumstances differ—Wickham is not a relation.” I sipped the amber liquor.
Lady Matlock inched forwards to meet my gaze. “For what it is worth, I agree with my husband.”
“They are correct, Darcy.” Lady Catherine raised her glass towards me. “It would be madness to pursue this any further. This man could prove to be uneducated and deceitful. Think of your sister’s welfare.”
“And that of your future wife.” My uncle crossed his arms. “Would you risk exposing them to a pernicious presence?”
“No, I should not.” I scrubbed both hands over my face. Had my parents been robbed of a son? And had I been denied my twin brother, who may have been my closest companion and confidant? Yet what if he turned out to be a dishonest rogue? “If my brother exists, I shall decide how to proceed after I have met him.”
“You could mistake the man’s character.” Lady Catherine used a quiet tone. “Some people are gifted deceivers.”
Yes, people like Wickham and Mrs. Younge. I pressed my knuckles to my mouth. After that near disaster at Ramsgate last summer, I had employed Mr. Notley, a Bow Street Runner, to verify Mrs. Annesley’s honourable character, and he had provided a thorough report. Why not put his skills to use once again? “I shall hire a professional investigator to refute or affirm Mrs. Pike’s story, and then, if applicable, determine whether or not my brother is an honourable man.”
My uncle gulped the remainder of his brandy. “Do you think it wise to trust a stranger with this sensitive information?”
“This investigator has assisted me once before. He is known to be efficient and discreet.”
My uncle grimaced. “Well, I hope you never have cause to regret this decision.”
Monday, 18 May
Gracechurch Street
Elizabeth
In anticipation of Fitzwilliam’s arrival, I spent the morning in the front sitting room with my latest sewing project. I sprang from my seat at the sight of his coach and met him in the vestibule. Although he greeted me with a smile, he drifted into a sombre mood when we settled in the drawing-room with my aunt. I attempted to keep dire suppositions of what may have transpired since we last met at bay.
He related grievous and shocking news: Miss de Bourgh suffered from a fatal illness; the poor woman! Lady Catherine’s egregious conduct with me had been an ill-conceived attempt to obtain contentment for her dying daughter. My aunt and I expressed our condolences. He conveyed Lady Catherine’s apology to me, and I assured him of my acceptance.
Next, Fitzwilliam recounted Mrs. Pike’s disquieting narrative and his decision to employ a Bow Street Runner. By the time he concluded the remarkable tale, unshed tears impelled me to blink. He removed his handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to me.
I raised the fine cloth to my eyes and retained it upon my lap. “Have you informed Miss Darcy the two of you may have a brother?”
“No, not yet. I shall wait until I have received Mr. Notley’s report. If my brother exists and appears to be man of good character, then I shall seek him out. In that instance, my intention would be to introduce him as a distant cousin. While I abhor the deception, this course of action would eliminate the need to disclose the midwife’s loathsome crime and expose my family to distasteful gossip.”
Yes, a previously unknown Darcy cousin would be much easier to explain. I shared a look with my aunt. “That sounds like a prudent plan.”
Two maids entered with tea and assorted cakes. When they left, Aunt Gardiner filled a cup and handed it to him. “It is a relief to know there is no question of you losing Pemberley. An estate of that size needs a knowledgeable and responsible master like you.”
“I appreciate that.” Fitzwilliam directed his sight to me. “Georgiana and I should like you to ride with us to Hertfordshire on Monday next.”
“Thank you, I should be pleased to go with you.”
My aunt touched my wrist. “In consideration of your father’s precept, I do not recommend that—we do not want to anger him. You had better travel with your uncle and me as we had planned.”
Drat. “Very well.” I met his gaze. “I apologise, but I must decline.”
“I understand.”
“If you and Miss Darcy are free tonight”—my aunt employed a cheery intonation—“we should be pleased if you would join us for dinner.”
“Thank you, I accept.”
“Very good.” Aunt Gardiner set down her half-full teacup. “If you will excuse me, the children await my arrival. I had promised to read them a story.”
Fitzwilliam stood and regained his seat after my aunt departed the room. He moved to the edge of his chair. “Mrs. Gardiner is generous to allow us this time alone.”
“Yes, she is a lady of keen insight.” I searched his aspect, which I had grown to cherish. What must he be feeling now? In his place, my thoughts and concerns would be swirling in a continuous state of flux. “Are you…pleased at the notion of having a brother?”
“Yes, although I am still growing accustomed to the concept. And much depends upon Mr. Notley’s findings. Rest assured, I shall not expose you or Georgiana to anyone who lacks honour.”
“I never doubted that.” I gave him a tender smile. “I hope with all my heart he will prove to be a true brother to you and Miss Darcy.”
“That would be ideal.” With a release of breath, a grim camber shaded his face. “Lady Catherine and Anne have returned to Rosings, where my cousin wants to live out her final days. My aunt asked me and the others in the family to spend as much time there as possible. I have agreed to go there in the near future and cannot predict how long I may be gone.”
Throes afflicted my stomach. Papa’s edict, though disappointing, had seemed bearable with the assumption I should see Fitzwilliam often. Now, due to his cousin’s diagnosis, I should be deprived of his company for days or even weeks at a time. If I explained the situation to my father, would he allow us to wed sooner? Then again, would it be appropriate for us to marry while Miss de Bourgh hovered at death’s door? Yet, if we waited—
“Elizabeth.” He moved to sit beside me, and his forehead constricted. “Are you well?”
“Yes, I am.” No matter how much I despised the thought of his being away, I must follow the honourable course and support his decision. “I understand. You must attend to your poor cousin as much as possible.”
“Thank you. It is a difficult situation, and I appreciate your compassion.” Fitzwilliam reached for my hand.
My fingers threaded and locked with his. “You need not thank me.” I pressed my mouth shut, combatting the urge to share my thoughts—they would sound callous and inexcusably selfish. If we must wait an additional few weeks after his cousin’s death to take our vows, then so be it. I could endure the delay.
At the sound of Aunt Gardiner’s approaching footsteps, I forced myself to release his hand and reposed against the settee with a veiled sigh.