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After throwing a final look of amusement toward her husband, Elizabeth answered, “Well, Kitty and her Mr. Wright spend most of their time at his family’s estate in Essex.

They have three children—two girls and a boy—and seem to be perfectly content tending to their bat willows and entertaining the four and twenty families in their neighborhood.

Mr. Wright’s father suffers from gout, but he and Mrs. Wright get along very well with Kitty, and I believe that they enjoy having their grandchildren growing up around them. ”

Noticing that they had all finished their meals, Mrs. Darcy suggested that the trio adjourn to the sitting room for tea and cakes.

While Elizabeth was serving, Mr. Darcy told Mary a little about the Gardiners.

“I will be sponsoring Jonathan at his levee next week, after which we will host a dinner here and then accompany him to a ball at St. James. He has grown into an exceptional young man; I expect that he will do very well.”

“By which my husband means that our young cousin has been schooled in the dignified air and forbidding countenance that Fitzwilliam deems necessary to survive in the first circles of Society,” said Elizabeth impertinently.

“By which I mean that he is likely to be accepted into whatever circles he chooses to frequent, due to his intelligence and good manners, not simply the size of his bank account and estate,” retorted the gentleman firmly, though it was clear that he knew he was being teased.

Elizabeth’s voice softened and her pride in her husband was perfectly obvious. “Yes, dear.”

After a few moments, Mary observed, “You’ve not said much about Jane and Mr. Bingley. Are they well?”

“Oh yes,” responded Lizzy, a little too quickly. “They have eight children and I just received a letter from Jane—she is increasing again.”

Mrs. Tucker watched the Darcys exchange a worried look and easily understood their concern. “And they have only been married for twelve years? Or is it thirteen? How is her health?”

“Not quite twelve,” agreed Elizabeth somberly.

“Jane says that she is perfectly well, but when has she ever been one to complain? All I know is that she has seemed so very tired these last few years. Of course, they have a wet nurse and a governess, but… well, you know the risks as well as I.” Seeing her husband’s expression become grim, Mrs. Darcy changed the subject.

“But Mary, you’ve told us very little about your family. ”

The other woman sipped her tea and gathered her thoughts for a moment before answering. “Matthew is my eldest—he was born while we were still in the Cape Colony—he is my strength, though he is not quite ten. ”

“He is well-named, then,” commented Mr. Darcy.

Mary smiled in agreement before continuing; “My younger son is six—Jeremiah. He is a good boy—very quiet, but not quite as serious as his brother.”

“And the others?”

Mrs. Tucker bowed her head for a moment, saying a prayer for the dead. “The others are orphans. Fred and Johnny have family near Basingstoke whom I hope to discover. The other four have no one but me; their mother died in my arms and I promised her that I would raise them as my own.”

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes when she reached to squeeze her sister’s hand, and Mr. Darcy offered gruffly, “We will be glad to help in whatever way we can, Mrs. Tucker.”

Mary nodded her gratitude, as her throat was too tight to form any words. Fortunately, a knock at the door saved her from having to speak.

The maid who had been put in charge of the Tucker children appeared, looking slightly abashed for intruding upon the master and mistress while they were entertaining a guest. “Yes Alice?” asked Mrs. Darcy gently. “Is anything wrong?”

“No ma’am. The children are all bathed and ready for bed; we set up cots for them in the guest nursery, just as you said. They’ve all been good as gold, nary a complaint, but they’re feeling a mite out of place, if you catch my meaning.”

Elizabeth understood instantly. “And seeing their Mama would help them settle before the candles are put out; of course.” She turned to Mary. “Shall we go up to see them together?

Mrs. Tucker agreed instantly and stood. Though she turned away slightly, she could not suppress the yawn that threatened to split her face at the thought of a bed that did not move with the rocking boat.

“Oh Mary—you’re exhausted and here I am keeping you from your rest. Please forgive me.” Elizabeth took her sister’s arm and, once Mr. Darcy had bid their guest good night, the pair followed the maid upstairs.

The house seemed like an endless maze of hallways and doors to Mrs. Tucker; she was relieved when her hostess pointed out that Mary’s bedchamber was separated from the children by only a sitting room.

“During the first few months that we lived here, I was convinced that the rooms rearranged themselves while we were sleeping, or at the very least, that someone was moving the paintings around so that I could not rely on them as landmarks.

“Well, here we are. Fourth floor—just come up the front staircase until you see this portrait of the young lady with the red sleeves and the black hat, and then turn left.” Elizabeth paused for an instant; “I’ve always thought that she has a very satirical eye—I would have liked to have met her, I believe. ”

With that one brief, quirky comment, Mary finally relaxed and allowed herself to feel truly safe for the first time in years, sheltered as she was in the bosom of family. She turned and hugged her sister tightly. “Oh Lizzy—how I have missed you!”

The Tuckers remained at Derwent House for two weeks before traveling north with the Darcys.

Though she did not attend any of the public festivities associated with her cousin’s presentation at court, Mary was very glad to see the Gardiners again and enjoyed a long chat with her aunt about how the realities of missionary work had been nothing like what she expected.

“I feel closer to God, but less concerned with the Church and its strictures, if that makes any sense,” admitted Mrs. Tucker.

When Mrs. Gardiner asked her to explain, Mary was silent for a moment.

“One of the most spiritual people I’ve ever met was an old Zulu woman who had never heard of Jesus Christ or Jehovah…

she had other names for her gods, but her faith was so strong that one could feel the power in her.

We talked a great deal while I was recovering from the fever, and I came to understand that it matters little what name we call Him by, or what myths we use to explain His origin or existence.

It is those most fundamental tenets by which we are taught to live our lives—the virtues we aspire to and the vices we fight against—that are most critical.

When we compared notes, the similarities were too great for it to be a coincidence; I could only conclude that there is a higher power, but that he cares little about what we call him or the semantics of our prayers…

what matters is how we honor our faith by living an honorable and moral life. ”

Madeleine squeezed her niece’s hand and said, “That is beautiful, Mary. I hope that, one day, you will write down these thoughts and share them.”

Mrs. Tucker actually laughed aloud at that. “I may write them down, I suppose, but I dare not distribute them unless I wish to be excommunicated at best, or perhaps tried for treason at worst!”

Mrs. Gardiner was forced to admit that some in the Anglican Church would probably object to such ideas as heresy.

“Well, perhaps if you merely reported the conversation as a small section within a broader account of your travels. Truly, Mary—I’ve heard only a few of your stories, but I believe many would find them fascinating. ”

Mrs. Tucker agreed to consider the prospect more out of politeness than any ambition, but within a few months she found herself jotting down various anecdotes that recalled her experiences, and it was not many years later that she asked the Gardiners and Darcys to read a manuscript.

The subsequent publication proved so popular among the general public (the vast majority of whom were admittedly more interested in hearing tales from Africa than considering divinical philosophy) that the Tucker children (born and adopted) each inherited a far more significant portion than one might have expected, given their origins .

Although visiting with the Gardiners was always enjoyable, the Darcys and Tuckers were glad when they could finally leave London behind.

After delivering the two Burgess lads to an aunt and uncle (a heretofore childless couple whose joy upon receiving the boys was diminished only by the news of their parents’ demise), the carriages headed into Hertfordshire.

They broke their journey at Longbourn for a week, and although Mrs. Tucker was glad to see Mr. Bennet and to visit her mother’s grave, the residents of Meryton (most of whom had never ventured more than fifty miles from the place where they had been born) did not know quite what to make of her.

Mary found Mrs. Phillips particularly difficult to endure, for not only did her aunt have looks and mannerisms reminiscent of the late Mrs. Bennet, but she also felt it necessary to take her sister’s place in advising Mary on how to be a proper mother and wife.

The younger woman had sat placidly, listening to her aunt’s well-meant but ignorant counsel, right up until Mrs. Phillips saw fit to express her opinion on Mr. Tucker.

“You would be better off if he had died from that fever, for what use will such a husband be? Why, it will be like having a child for whom you are doomed to care for the rest of his life! At least if he were dead, you could re-marry, and I’m sure that with your sisters’ connections… Mary? Where are you going, Mary?”