Pride Prejudice and Perplexity

A Mysterious Lady

Chapter Eight – A Mysterious Lady

When they heard the carriage arrive, early the next morning, Elizabeth looked out the window and said reassuringly, “It is just as I expected, Jane, it is Mr Darcy's carriage; you need have no fear, we shall be perfectly safe.”

The journey took above three hours, and although Elizabeth tried hard to determine to whence they travelled, all she could be certain of was that their direction was a northerly one. Nevertheless, as they drove along, she industriously noted down the names of the turnpike roads and villages through which they passed, along with notable landmarks, such as rivers and hills, using a pencil and paper she had brought for the purpose. Eventually, the carriage entered the grounds of a small country house. What they could observe of the grounds from the carriage window was delightful, and the house was very pretty too – all covered in vines.

The carriage stopped at the front door, and Lydia came rushing out, as fast as she was able; for she was, most evidently, with child. She threw her arms around Kitty, who alighted first, clearly delighted to see her sister; but when she saw Elizabeth, she gasped, “Lizzy, what are you doing here? It was only supposed to be Kitty!” But she nevertheless embraced Elizabeth. “Mr Darcy will not be happy when he learns that you, too, were here! Oh hang him; I am pleased to see you, Lizzy! Come,” she said, offering an arm to each sister and leading them inside.

Looking around, Elizabeth observed that it was a most comfortable house – and if not quite so large as that of her father, it was more than its equal in elegance; all that she saw of the fittings and furniture confirmed her favourable opinion.

Lydia led them to a comfortable sitting room, where she rang the bell for tea. The lady who entered the room gasped when she saw that there were two ladies; but recovering herself, she asked politely, “Yes, Madam?”

“We will have tea now, Harrison,” said Lydia self-consciously, in a manner that immediately aroused Elizabeth's suspicions.

“And will there be a second guest for the dinner, Madam?”

“Err... yes,” stuttered Lydia, “please advise the cook.”

“Very good, Madam,” she said with a bow, before leaving the room.

“Who is that lady?” asked Elizabeth.

“Oh, that's just Mrs Harrison, the housekeeper,” replied Lydia, in a dismissive tone.

Elizabeth said nothing, but the look she had observed passing between the older lady and Lydia, when the former first entered the room and saw that there were two visitors, seemed almost an admonishing one – hardly what one would expect of a servant.

“Do you know, it must be above eight months, since last I saw you – since I left Longbourn,” said Lydia wistfully. Elizabeth perceived a great alteration in her younger sister. Though she was evidently happy at seeing them, there was a sadness and joylessness which she had never before observed in her.

“I imagine that you are both very curious to know all that has happened in that time. Well, I do not need to speak of Brighton, for you received all my letters, and so you know what a wonderful time I had there… if only I had remained in Brighton, and not been such a fool as to fall in love with George Wickham,” she said with a sigh, shaking her head as she stared at the wall, perhaps recalling those carefree days that were forever gone.

“I must have been a complete simpleton to have been taken in by that insincere scoundrel. If only I had been less impetuous... how very different my life would now be.” Elizabeth, who sat beside her on the couch reached out and squeezed her sister's hand comfortingly. She felt guilty for not having warned Lydia of what she had learned from Mr Darcy concerning the truth about Wickham's character; if only she had foreseen the danger and acted! But it was all too late, and it would be in no way helpful to make mention of it now.

“When I left Brighton with him, Wickham said we were going to Gretna Green to be married; but then, when we reached London, he said we must stop a while in town, for he had some matters of business that first needed attending to; and I doubted not his sincerity. But now, to my cost, I know better. I am quite certain that he never intended to marry me; the wicked, vile, deceiver!

“One day he went out from the rooms where we stayed, leaving me behind as always, and he never returned. When later I looked in the wardrobe, I discovered that all his things were gone. When the landlord saw that I had been abandoned, he demanded the rent that was owed, for Wickham had not paid him – but I had no money.

“I knew not what to do. I felt such a fool, and realised how I had disgraced my father and all my family. I was penniless; how was I to get to Longbourn, if I found the courage to return? Then I remembered my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner lived in London, but I had not the least idea where, or how to find them; and, in any case, I could not, for the landlord had become angry when I told him I had no money to pay him, and he locked me in my room.”

Lydia took a handkerchief to dry her eyes, and Elizabeth again took her hand. Kitty rose up from her chair to go to her sister, but Lydia pulled her hand away from Elizabeth's, and waved Kitty back. “Stay where you are, Kitty, I am all right; I have accepted my lot in life, and that I must now pay for my sins; it is many months, now, since last I felt sorry for myself and cried. It was just because I was retelling the start of my story, when still I had hopes of better things. Pray, allow me finish.

“The landlord turned me over to a gentleman – whose name I shall not reveal – from whom, I suppose, he received money which he thought was his due in lieu of the rent. The man took me to another lodging house in a poorer part of town, where the rooms were small and mean. He kept me there for his pleasure; although he did not live there himself, but visited when it suited him. It was there that I realised that I was with child – his child, I am certain – not Wickham's. There were other poor creatures, living like myself, in that awful place, and one of them befriended me. When I told her I was with child, she warned me to hide it for as long as possible, from the man who kept me; for when he found out, he would surely throw me out onto the street, she said. I was terrified. Every time he came, I was fearful he would discover my condition – I was living in constant fear.

“Then one day when I was alone, Mr Darcy came. He had somehow learned where Wickham and I had been staying, and must have bribed the landlord to tell him where I had been taken. He gave me the news that Wickham had eloped with Mary King – do you remember her, with all the freckles?”

“And the ten thousand pounds,” added Elizabeth.

“He must have encountered her on one of his outings from our lodging house, I suppose,” said Lydia stoically, “and of course he never mentioned anything of it to me. But I do not blame her – she will have known nothing of me; and in any case, I am now convinced that Wickham always intended to abandon me. I do not envy Mary King one bit, being married to that lying, deceiving, rogue.”

“Nor I,” said Elizabeth. “Did Mr Darcy know you were with child?”

“Yes, of course, for I told him everything. I cannot, for the life of me, fathom why he went to so much trouble to find me, and why he should want to rescue me; for I know he has a low opinion of me, and he certainly was not seeking any favours – like Wickham, and the second gentleman – if you take my meaning.

“He said that he wished to immediately remove me from my present circumstances, and take me to my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, who would contact my father, that they might decide what was to be done. He said that if they should determine that it was best for me to be secluded quietly in the countryside, that he knew of a suitable place, and would take care of everything.

“I refused to go with him to my aunt and uncle, for I was too ashamed to see any of my relations, and I wished that none of them should ever again hear from me. I realised how my disgrace must bring shame upon my whole family and would damage the marriage prospects of all my sisters. Before Mr Darcy came, it seemed certain that it was only a matter of time before I was thrown out onto the streets, where I would starve, and eventually die. At least it would be the end of the shame for my family, for no one would ever know what had become of me.

“When I refused to go to my aunt and uncle, Mr Darcy said that he would take me to the place in the country, of which he had earlier spoken, and that I would be comfortable and well. He promised me that I could raise my child, and that we could live our whole lives there. I agreed to go on one condition, only – that he promise never to tell my family what had become of me. He said that I owed it to them, to at least let them know I was safe and well, for otherwise they would fear the worst; but I would not be persuaded; and in the end he gave me his promise; although whenever he came here, he begged me to contact my family – and eventually he succeeded in prevailing upon me. You may tell my parents and sisters everything you have heard today. Tell them I am very well here, and, as you can see, very comfortable. But they will never see me again in Longbourn.”

“Considering how dire were your circumstances in London, you are most fortunate, indeed, Lydia, to now find yourself here in this lovely country place,” observed Elizabeth.

“Oh, yes, I know it – believe me – after all I have experienced in town. But if only it were a little more lively here, there is just… myself,” said Lydia.

Elizabeth thought her sister had intended saying something else and stopped herself short. “Does this property belong to Mr Darcy?” enquired Elizabeth.

Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, I suppose it must.”

“But do you think he has been in possession of it for some time? It seems strange that he should have an establishment like this – which must be very far from Derbyshire, and also at quite a distance from town. Does he sometimes stay here?”

Lydia became uneasy. “I think he must have had this place for some time, for Mrs Harrison has lived here for quite a while, I think. He visits sometimes, but he does not stay here. Come, it is time for the meal,” said Lydia, evidently wishing to change the subject.

The three young ladies enjoyed an excellent dinner, and afterwards returned to the sitting room. Lydia, having told them all her news, was eager to hear about what had been happening at Longbourn; for all that Mr Darcy had been able to tell her was that Jane had married Mr Bingley. Kitty was pleased at the opportunity to recount all that had passed in the eight months since her sister was last at home; but Elizabeth, who was little interested in Kitty's gossip, excused herself, intending to walk in the pretty garden; for though it was cold, it was clear and sunny.

As she was walking along a lovely path, bordered on one side by a hedge, which formed the boundary of the property, Elizabeth came upon a gate, through which she could see a sizeable river, not very far away. It looked delightful, with the sun reflecting upon the water like diamonds. Finding the gate unlocked, Elizabeth walked to the river bank, where she stood for some time, observing the beauty of the swiftly flowing water, and reflecting sadly upon her unfortunate sister, and all that had befallen her. There was a path along the bank, which she began to follow.

Elizabeth had gone about a mile and was thinking that she must soon turn back, when she noticed someone ahead of her, sitting upon a small stool on the river bank, painting. So engrossed was the young lady in her art, that she did not notice Elizabeth, until she was almost upon her. Looking up, the artist appeared startled to see another soul in that lonely place.

“You paint beautifully,” said Elizabeth, in genuine admiration, “you have captured the sparkle of the sun on the water, and the swirling river currents, most admirably.”

The young lady smiled. She was about the same age as Elizabeth, and had dark hair and eyes. Elizabeth found a strange haunting beauty in her face. “Where have you come from?” she asked, looking at Elizabeth curiously.

“I am a visitor at the house over there,” she said, pointing to the hedgerow which was all that could be seen of it from here.

“Oh!” she replied, evidently alarmed at the information; and quickly turned back to her painting.

Elizabeth knew not what to think. Did the house where her sister lived have some evil reputation in the neighbourhood? She could think of no way to ask the young lady, who now appeared entirely engrossed in her work, and apparently did not wish to converse further. “I had best be getting back; good day, to you,” said Elizabeth politely.

“Good day,” said the young lady, her eyes remaining fixed upon her canvas; but just as Elizabeth was about to turn, she looked up for a brief moment, staring searchingly into her face.

As she walked back along the picturesque river, Elizabeth barely paid it any attention, for it was the beautiful face of the strange young lady that appeared in her mind; and her expression, when she had mentioned the house where Lydia was living.

Upon re-entering the house, Elizabeth looked about carefully, as if it perhaps hid some great mystery. On one of the drawing room walls, she noticed two paintings; and though one was of a village and the other of fields, there was an unmistakable similarity of style between them, and the painting of the young lady beside the river. Elizabeth could not see a name on either, but she felt certain that all three paintings were the work of the same artist. Looking about her, she noticed a pianoforte which gave the appearance of having been very recently used, for sheets of music lay upon it. Although some trouble had been taken to hide it, Elizabeth noticed other signs of a second occupant; a second work bag, and a number of coats hanging inside the front door that were more than could belong to one young lady.

Before she and Kitty departed, Elizabeth asked her sister pointedly. “Lydia, are you really living here all alone, with just the housekeeper, Mrs Harrison, and the servants?”

“Yes, of course, Lizzy. I have no idea why you should ask such a silly question.” Lydia blushed and appeared discomposed.

Taking pity upon her, Elizabeth said nothing further on the subject, and embraced her sister warmly, in farewell. “Now we know all about you, there is nothing further to hide; you must write to us sometimes, and let us know how you are, dear Lydia. Are we permitted to know the location of this house, that we may write to you?”

“I think Mr Darcy may wish for it to remain secret,” said Lydia uneasily.

“Then I suppose we can always give a letter to him to send on to you.”

“Yes, of course,” said Lydia, embracing her sisters again, before they climbed into the carriage. As they drove out of the gate, Elizabeth again took from her bag the piece of paper and pencil, and again noted everything that might help her determine where Lydia was living – and not just Lydia – the other young lady too, whom she had encountered painting beside the river. It was evident now, that she had deliberately absented herself from the house, so that Lydia's visitor would not see her. She, along with Lydia and the housekeeper, Mrs Harrison, had gone to some trouble to prevent her presence in the house being discovered; and it seemed certain that the person, who wished to keep her existence secret, was none other than Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth suspected that the other young lady had been living in the house for quite some time – very probably well before the arrival of Lydia – and in fact the very reason for the existence of the establishment was to provide a home for her. When he had found Lydia in need of a secluded country house, Mr Darcy had brought her there. But who, she asked herself, was the mysterious young lady? Was she another victim of George Wickham perhaps, whom Mr Darcy had felt honour-bound to save? She was very beautiful, and Elizabeth could not help suspecting that her acquaintance with Mr Darcy might possibly be of a more intimate nature.

~~~~~

When Elizabeth and Kitty arrived back in the evening, Jane was eager to hear all their news concerning Lydia.

“Considering what we imagined,” observed Jane, “our sister's seclusion in the country is the best possible outcome both for Lydia and our whole family. In time, her disgrace will be all but forgotten around Meryton, and it is hardly known of, at all, in town.”

“For which, we are fortunate,” added Elizabeth, “that Caroline Bingley is now our relation and cannot blacken the name of Bennet without tarnishing that of Bingley. I surprise myself in discovering that, in this matter at least, I am pleased, Jane, that you may call her sister.”

Kitty, who was eager to be the bearer of the good news, excused herself and went up to her apartments to write to their mother.

“Our mother will be greatly relieved, and delighted, to learn of Lydia's present situation,” said Jane.

“But not, I think, when she learns to whom she is indebted for it – or that she will no longer be able to damn Mr Darcy's reputation, and is now obliged to cease circulating her fanciful stories about his supposed infamy.”

Jane smiled. “On the whole, I believe she will be well satisfied, as will our father. Mr Darcy has done our whole family an enormous, and most valuable, service. Since we may now be certain that there was nothing in the least way improper between him and our sister, it is most difficult to explain, is it not, why he should have gone to so much trouble and expense for a young lady whom he barely knew, and for whom he can have had very little regard. There is, however, one explanation that comes to mind,” said Jane teasingly.

Elizabeth smiled. “And there is also another; Mr Darcy felt responsible for Lydia's elopement with Wickham – which led to every other ill – because he chose to keep Wickham 's disreputable character secret, for fear of compromising his own sister's reputation.”

“I think it unlikely that such a noble sense of responsibility would, of itself, have been a strong enough inducement; however, it may, very likely, have been a combination of the two,” concluded Jane. “I do not believe he would have acted to save our sister, had it not been for his regard for you, Lizzy. And it is now evident that Mr Darcy has long been most eager for Lydia to write to her family, and thus reveal his innocence in her regard, and thereby absolve him of the blame of which he has been unable to defend himself, on account of the promise of silence he had given to Lydia.”

“Yes, I think what you say is most probably true.”

“He may now, very likely, hope to prevail upon you to accept him when he pays you his addresses – which, I suspect, could be as soon as tomorrow – for I have not yet told you that I was surprised to receive an invitation this morning, from Georgiana, for us to dine at Grosvenor Square tomorrow, which, of course, I have accepted. Although Mr Darcy was unaware that you would accompany Kitty today, he will have anticipated that you must, by now, be familiar with all the details surrounding Lydia. I am inclined to suspect that the dinner invitation, given at such short notice, was all Mr Darcy's doing, and a very clear indication of his intention.”

“If that is his intention – and I am not at all certain that it is – then he shall find himself obliged to satisfy my curiosity on an entirely different matter before I will agree to hear any proposal of marriage.”

“Good heavens, Lizzy! What can you be about? Do you mean to torture the poor man forever? Surely after everything you learned today – all that he has done for our sister in saving her from a fate of unimaginable pain and degradation; and in which he has acquitted himself of every evil design that our dear mamma has laid at his door – what other satisfaction can you possibly wish for?”

Elizabeth told Jane of the beautiful young lady she had encountered upon the river bank, and of her suspicion that she, too, resided in the house, along with their sister.

Jane was so surprised at this information – which Elizabeth had not confided in Kitty – that she remained silent, shaking her head, and searching for an innocent explanation; for it was her nature to always think the very best of everyone, and she had the highest regard for her husband's friend. “You do not know for certain that the young lady lives in the house – although I grant you, there are strong reasons for believing it. And if she does, you have not the slightest reason to suspect that her connection with Mr Darcy is in any way different from that of Lydia's. Did it appear to you as if she was, likewise, with child?”

“I cannot say, for she was seated and wearing a thick pelisse. But Jane, you said, yourself, that you did not consider Mr Darcy's wish to make amends for keeping Wickham's character secret, was sufficient explanation for the trouble and expense of him rescuing Lydia – so how could such an explanation, that the mysterious young lady was, likewise, a victim of George Wickham be plausible – unless, of course, she also, has a sister he is bent upon marrying?”

“Yes, I see what you mean. Perhaps there will be an opportunity to question Mr Darcy about the young lady tomorrow?”

“If your suspicions, regarding the reasons for the dinner, are correct, then I am confident that Mr Darcy will find a suitable opportunity for a tête-à-tête – but I am not at all confident that he will be able to satisfy me, and proceed to what you suppose to be, his intended purpose.”