Page 14 of Fitzwilliam Darcy An Honourable Man

Sheffield, England

Rose & Crown Inn

It was nearly noon on the day after William and Richard had arrived in Sheffield, and still no one had come to meet them. Having reached the Rose and Crown in the afternoon, they had gone to bed at dark, as they were exhausted from their long journey. In addition, they had arisen early, dressed and eaten, fully expecting someone to arrive promptly at eight o’clock as the letter indicated. As the hours slipped away, William kept pulling the missive out of his pocket to read it through again, wondering if he had missed some detail. Nevertheless, upon each reading, the instructions were the same—to wait at the inn for someone to contact them.

“I cannot sit here one minute longer!” Richard declared, standing and striding towards the door. “Besides, I am getting hungry, so I shall order us something to eat.”

Just as he turned the knob on the door, someone began to knock on the other side. Richard pulled it open. Standing there was a skinny, red-headed young man of about eighteen with his fist still raised in the air.

Surprised, Richard stuttered out an apology and stepped back at the frightened look on the intruder’s face. “Excuse me. I—I was only ... Are you here to see us?”

The boy, eyes wide now, swallowed hard and nodded. “Then, do come in!”

Stepping barely inside the room, he squeaked up at Richard, “Mr. Darcy?” If Richard and William were not previously aware of his nervousness, his voice betrayed it now.

Richard forced himself not to smile, replying in his most officious voice, “I am Colonel Fitzwilliam.” He motioned towards William, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed, but was now beginning to stand. “This is my cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” William nodded.

“I—I am Arthur Fielding, sir,” the boy managed to get out. “My aunt, Mrs. Browning, requests that you come with me.”

At that, the boy did a perfect about-face, walking away as though he fully expected them to obey his aunt without question. Realising that the young man was not waiting, neither was he leaving the establishment by way of the front door, William and Richard grabbed their coats and hats and made haste to catch up to him. By the time they exited the back door, he was holding open the door to an old carriage and motioning for them to enter it. They exchanged quick glances and did as directed.

Their escort assumed the driver’s position and whipped the horses into motion, quite oblivious to the silent exchanges between the two men being transported in the shabby carriage. With a slight lift of the corners of his mouth, William nodded to Richard. One had to admire the ingenuity of the person who had sent for them. They had been secreted out of the inn by way of the rear entrance, and rushed into this miserable conveyance without drawing the least bit of attention from anyone, servant or guest. In addition, it was highly improbable that anyone would desire to know the identity of whoever travelled in this dilapidated carriage or his or her destination.

Long past serviceable, the interior of the carriage was in even worse condition than the exterior. The old cushions, with little or no padding, were ripped in several places. Being used to more comfortable means of travel, William felt every rut in the road down to his very bones. For his part, Richard had put up with worse in his career with the army, so he was unfazed and focused on the passing scenery. Pleasantly surprised at the loveliness of the landscape, he turned to look out the window on the opposite side of the coach and noticed that William was not as agreeably occupied. His wealthy cousin was concentrating on a tear in the seat cover, unconsciously fiddling with a piece that was hanging loose.

Waiting until William noticed his observation, Richard wagged his brows and chuckled. William shook his head, smiled knowingly and looked away. Leaning towards him, Richard spoke just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the road. “Come on, Darce, you have to admit this is hilarious! Can you imagine what gossip would ensue if the ton caught sight of the illustrious Master of Pemberley riding in a carriage so dilapidated? Good Lord, it may disintegrate at any moment, depositing us upon the ground with little or no ceremony.”

A small smile began at the corners of William’s lips, and then blossomed into a wide grin before he could suppress it. Richard relaxed—satisfied. If only he could coax a smile from his dour cousin more often.

They had not travelled many miles before the carriage turned off the main road and passed through an old rusted gate. Then they continued for perhaps another quarter-mile through some lovely woods before a modest estate was seen in the distance. As the carriage negotiated the last hundred feet towards the front entrance of the house, the front door flew open and two older women emerged, each waiting on the portico. The carriage came to an abrupt stop and their young driver unceremoniously hopped down and opened the carriage door, motioning for them to alight. As they did, the women began to descend the steps, not pausing until they stood directly in front of them, bobbing slightly.

“I am Gertrude Browning, the housekeeper at Northgate Manor,” the first declared and nodded towards the other. “And this is my sister, Mary Sweeten.” She swept her hand towards the dwelling. “It is her home we are using for our meeting.” Beaming now at the red-haired boy, she continued. “And you have already met my nephew, Arthur.”

Richard usually took the lead in conversations with strangers, and this time was no different. “I am Richard Fitzwilliam, and this is my cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” Both men bowed. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance and wish to thank you for agreeing to meet with us in place of the Bingleys.”

Mrs. Browning nodded, smiling pleasantly. “Please come inside. We shall have a cup of tea while I explain the reason I asked you to make this journey.”

The smell of freshly baked bread instantly enticed their senses as they entered the foyer, and Richard inhaled deeply as a blissful look swept across his face. It did not go unnoticed by his hostess.

She enquired cleverly, “A bit of bread and jam with your tea would not be unwelcome, I suppose?”

“You are too kind, madam. That sounds lovely,” he quickly responded, trying to keep his growling stomach from being heard.

“It would be most welcome,” William confessed. “We have not had time to eat since early this morning.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Browning frowned. “Then we shall have to remedy that. Follow me.”

~~~*~~~

After they had enjoyed a much-appreciated repast of hot soup, cold meats, cheeses, jams and the newly baked bread, everyone, including Mrs. Browning’s sister and nephew, settled in the parlour with fresh cups of tea. However, all attention was focused on Mrs. Browning, who cleared her throat self-consciously.

“First, let me apologise for Arthur not being at the inn earlier as planned and for requiring you to ride in that eyesore.” Her eyes lit up as both men smiled. “I felt your coach would draw unwelcome attention to your presence at my sister’s home. In our small town, as in any other, I am sure, there are eyes and ears eager to find some gossip. Let them think that the person who arrived in that fine coach was only at the inn to rest before continuing his journey and not here for some specific purpose. Likewise, it would be best if you leave as soon as possible after we conclude our business. The less attention you command, the better.”

“I agree completely,” William stated solemnly.

“The reason for the delay in meeting you earlier was due to some problems at Northgate Manor. We have had a great deal of trouble keeping servants, and just this morning we lost another. To put it simply, we do not have the required number of people to maintain the up-keep of the house, and when someone leaves without notice ...” Her voice trailed off as she sighed. “I am sorry. I should not bother you with my concerns.”

William spoke up, “If I may ask, how far is Northgate Manor from the village?”

“The entrance is only six miles to the north of the village, but after you enter the gates, the drive winds a half-mile before reaching the mansion.”

He nodded. “Are the lands extensive?”

“They once were, but Lord Stanton sold many hundreds of acres in the last few years. I believe I heard him say it now consists of less than four hundred acres.”

“I see.” William glanced at Richard, both knowing that this was not enough land to support a large estate.

Mrs. Browning began to reminisce, unaware of their silent exchange. “At one time, Northgate was thriving, with nearly a hundred servants and tenants tending the grounds and the house. It was quite a showplace. Now much of the up-keep, as well as the management are left to Cliffton, me, and the few others who are left.”

Seeing the question in their eyes, she offered, “Cliffton is my husband. He has been the butler at Northgate for nearly as long as I have been there, almost thirty years now, though his duties are so much more extensive than that. At present, he is watching the house so I can meet with you. Mr. Johnston, the Stanton’s steward, has arrived, and I overheard him tell his assistant that Lord Stanton would be coming to Northgate in the near future, I suppose to approve the final repairs.”

She sulked. “I am never notified of his comings or goings anymore, so it behooves us to hurry, just in case he arrives later today. I would not have him wondering where I am.”

Mrs. Browning saw the men glance towards her sister and nephew. “You may speak freely in front of Mary and Arthur. Arthur was the one I sent to Meryton to find Miss Elizabeth’s sister, and Mary hid her in this house while she recovered from her injuries. You can trust them.”

William apologised. “I am sorry if we offended anyone. We are just fearful for Elizabeth’s safety.”

“No offense was taken. I am glad that you are careful, as you are correct to fear. The young master can be cruel, and I believe him capable of doing great harm if he feels threatened.”

William ventured, “May I ask why you continue to work for such a man?”

“I do not work for the son, I work for the father,” she replied defensively. “The old master, Lord Stanton, is a good man, though he is rarely here anymore. He suffered a great heartache years ago when his foreign wife left him, taking their son back to Italy with her. He was but seven at the time. Afterwards, the master lived here only about four months a year, preferring to live in London the rest of the time.” She shook her head. “I think Northgate Manor held too many memories.

“When Stephen, Viscount Glascomb, returned to England at almost twenty, he and Lord Stanton moved back here. I understand that Lord Stanton had hopes of grooming him to take over the estate after university. However, the viscount was no longer a sweet-tempered boy. In fact, he had a volatile temper, and they disagreed often and forcefully. After he entered Cambridge, Stephen refused to visit, and Lord Stanton returned to London. In the last few years, I have seen them sporadically and usually separately.”

“You called him Stephen, though he calls himself Stefano,” Richard interjected.

“Yes, well he was born Stephen Anthony Stanton, Viscount Glascomb. However, when he returned from Italy, he preferred the name and title he had inherited from his maternal grandfather, Count Stefano Gianni Montalvo de Cavour. He is quite taken with his perceived importance and refers to himself as Count Stefano. Naturally, the rejection of the family name broke his father’s heart.”

“You seem to care for the father. Why would you risk making him angry by seemingly betraying the son?”

“There are two reasons. First, Lord Stanton does not approve of most of his son’s activities, though it is plain he chooses to ignore some of his faults. After all, Stephen is still his son, even if he is estranged from him.”

William ventured, “And second?”

“I truly care for Miss Elizabeth. She is a very kind young woman who has been ill-used. She puts me in mind of my youngest sister, Grace.” For just a moment, Mrs. Browning seemed to reminisce as she played with the fringe on a pillow. “We lost her to a ruthless cad many years ago.” Then shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, she resumed her narration.

“I was surprised when the young master arrived with Miss Elizabeth, as he had hardly been in residence in the previous six months. In any event, he arrived unannounced in the middle of the night, carrying this young woman in his arms—his wife, he insisted. I assumed she was ill, as she was definitely not conscious. She did not stir for days, and I began to worry that she never would.”

William closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths before rising to take his usual stance at a window. His discomposure was noticed by the other occupants of the room, Mrs. Browning especially. She had suspected all along that this wealthy gentleman would not have taken Miss Elizabeth into his home, as the Bingleys had explained, unless he was very much in love with her. Seeking the colonel’s eyes, his nod gave her permission to resume her story.

“Stephen rattled on almost incoherently—they had been married in Gretna Green—she was ill—he hoped their marriage would be incentive for her to recover. The next day I was given very precise instructions as to her care. I was to administer powders, mixed in tea, every morning before she had eaten.” She began to sniffle, her voice almost a whisper. “I truly did not know she was being drugged to keep her submissive until much later.”

Richard’s eyes cut to William, who had initially clasped his hands behind his back. Now his arms hung down futilely, the only sign of his discomposure being the curling and uncurling of his fingers into fists. Mrs. Browning’s next exclamation brought Richard’s attention back to her.

“Almost immediately, Stephen left! He received an express from London the day after and set off for Town, staying away three full months. This became his practice, arriving and staying for two or three days, then leaving and staying away for months on end. It continued this same way for almost two years ... until the fire.

“Dutifully, I gave Miss Elizabeth the powders every day for weeks, since he had left explicit instructions, and I believed her to be ill. However, the truth always comes out in the end! My sister, Mary, was terribly sick and had no one to care for her, so I had to leave. I left it up to Addie, Miss Elizabeth’s maid, to administer the powders, and being a flighty young thing, she forgot. By that evening, her charge was awake and talking. So the next day, Addie withheld the powders again—deliberately—and she improved even more astonishingly. By the time that I returned several days later, it was obvious that the powders were being used only to keep her immobile and mute. But, of course, this discovery brought its own set of problems.”

“She realised she had been trapped,” William ventured from his perch by the windows. His voice sounded hoarse, and though he kept his gaze fixed on something in the distance, Richard noted that he had begun to run his hands through his hair. This had always been a sure indication that William was trying to control his temper.

Mrs. Browning’s head swung around, astounded at William’s understanding. “Precisely!”

William continued, his voice eerily calm. “And she could not remember how she came to be married.”

“You are correct, sir. Miss Elizabeth could not remember anything beyond entering her home to find her own mother entertaining the man she had vehemently refused—Count Stefano ... Stephen. She began to cry hysterically, telling me she would never have consented to marry him and asking for my help. But what remedy did the poor child have? She could not return home if her own vile mother had pushed him upon her daughter, mind you. And if she left now, her reputation would be ruined anyway. She had no hope of escape.”

All was quiet in the small parlour for several seconds, each person present considering Elizabeth’s cruel fate. Mrs. Browning pulled a large white handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her now red eyes. “Addie and I came to believe she had been drugged and kidnapped with her mother’s consent.”

“When did she become resigned to her fate?” The flat tone of William’s enquiry belied the turmoil he felt, and even Mrs. Browning was not fooled.

“Not many days later, I found her staring into space. She no longer carried on much conversation with Addie or me, preferring to be alone. We worried for her sanity and her person, thinking once she had given up, she might harm herself.”

William shuddered, dropping his head. “What happened when Stefano returned to find her awake?”

“We had all decided—Addie, Miss Elizabeth, and me—to let him think she was still taking the powders. So whenever Stephen was here, we would take note of his whereabouts and warn her when he came towards her rooms. We thought she could feign sleep if he went near her.”

“That makes no sense!” Richard said vehemently, causing everyone to jump. “What man wants a wife who sleeps all the time? What would be the sense in that?”

He became aware of William’s glare and softened his demeanour. “I am only saying, Cousin, that any man who wants a comatose wife is obviously not sane.”

“You are correct in both your assertions, Colonel,” Mrs. Browning replied. “Our plan began to unravel when he decided he wanted Miss Elizabeth to be awake, at least whenever he was in residence. About eight months after he brought her here, he arrived unannounced, as usual, and more irritable than I had ever seen him. I remember the strong smell of liquor on his breath when he gave me his instructions.”

William turned questioning eyes towards her, and seeing the dread on his face, she dropped her gaze. “He ordered me to stop administering the powders.”

She continued, barely audible. “Perhaps Elizabeth will tell you what transpired between them, if she recovers.” Glancing at William’s pained expression, she offered, “Never once did she confide in me—or Addie, to my knowledge—what happened during those times he was in her room.”

William stiffened now, holding on to the window frame to brace himself. “What do you know of the fire?”

“Very little actually. I had gone to visit my aunt and returned a day and a half later to find that several rooms in one wing had burned—parts of it were still smouldering. The servants who were still there were trying to salvage what they could from the ruins. I feel sure the entire house would have burned had it not been storming that night.”

“Elizabeth is terrified of storms.” The soft whisper did not seem to belong to the tall gentleman poised at the window, though those exchanging worried glances knew the truth.

Her eyes tearing up at his obvious pain, Mrs. Browning continued with some difficulty. “I immediately sought word of my Cliffton and was told that he was well and at my sister’s home. When I enquired about Miss Elizabeth, I was informed that she had perished in the flames, along with Addie. Addie’s little girl had survived and was being cared for by another servant, and there were other servants missing, some found later in the rubble.”

At the mention of Elizabeth’s death, William sunk into a chair, his head propped on one arm, a hand covering his face.

“But,” she quickly explained, “my nephew arrived directly afterward to inform me that Cliffton had spirited Miss Elizabeth to my sister’s home under cover of darkness. Her lungs had been injured by the smoke, and she suffered some burns, but her head wound was her most serious injury. The local physician is a kindly old man we have known and used for years, and when I explained her circumstances, he treated her in secret.

“We pretended one of the bodies found in the rubble was Miss Elizabeth, though I knew it to be another young servant who had no family. That girl is buried in Elizabeth’s grave in Meryton.”

“I saw her grave,” William offered with barely controlled emotion, causing Richard to ponder how on earth his cousin had kept secret so deep a devotion.

“As you are aware, once we were confident Miss Elizabeth would survive, we set out to locate the sister she had mentioned—Jane.”

William nodded. “Yes. The Bingleys were most appreciative of your kindness towards Elizabeth and them, and you can rest assured, I will forever be indebted to you.”

“There is no debt, young man, as we are all very fond of Miss Elizabeth.” The truth of her statement was evident in the faces now observing him. His blue eyes shined as he looked around the room, offering, “Then I thank each and every one of you.”

Mrs. Browning sat up straighter and took a deep breath, trying to gain her composure. “Now we come to my reason for asking you here today. I mentioned that the steward is here now, but a few weeks before he came, a strange little man arrived. He carried a letter of introduction from the young master. Mr. Chaney, he called himself. He said he was supposed to prepare an estimate on the cost of repairs, and he asked many questions, but not many were pertaining to that purpose. He wanted a list of everyone who died in the fire and where they were buried. After I gave him the list I had falsified, he specifically questioned me on my claim that Miss Elizabeth died in the fire and was buried in Hertfordshire, near her family. I do not think he believed me.”

Richard and William exchanged worried glances.

“My friends tell me he spread quite a bit of money around town, trying to loosen tongues. I cannot vouch for everyone who works at Northgate, other than those I trust. I fear that someone could have learned the truth and passed it on to him. Before he left, he made it clear that he was not convinced that all the people who died had been accounted for, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.”

“So it begins,” William muttered to himself, glancing to see everyone’s eyes on him. “I cannot let him find Elizabeth.” No one replied, each knowing that the undertaking would be easier said than done. Even Richard did not reply, as he was already mentally engaged in planning how to help his cousin.

Suddenly, Mrs. Browning exclaimed again. “Oh! I almost forgot. Arthur, bring me the chest!”

The red-haired boy hurried out of the room, and the housekeeper’s voice became a little more animated. “I discovered a small chest belonging to Miss Elizabeth in the room the young master frequents when he is at Northgate. I knew when I saw it that it was hers, as it had arrived with her and was usually left in her room. I peered inside, just to be sure, you understand.” She looked about to see everyone nodding in approval. “And Elizabeth’s Bible was on top, so I knew it was her property. I thought it might bring her some happiness to have returned the few small items that belong to her.”

At that moment the door flew open, and an elderly woman shuffled in holding a crying child of about two and a half years of age. William’s first thought was that the child was the image of Georgiana at that age. In fact, he reflected, if she stood next to a portrait of his sister as a child, it would be difficult to tell them apart. Her hair was light blond, and though her eyes were filled with tears, they were obviously light blue.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Gertrude, but she will not be comforted. I thought you might—”

Mrs. Browning reached for the child, pulling her into her lap and kissing the top of her golden curls. The child leaned into her chest, instantly quieting and closing her eyes. “Never mind, Clara. I have spoiled her.” With a smile and a wink, she dismissed the other woman, who retreated into the room from whence she came.

She spoke quietly, stroking Millie’s hair. “Gentlemen, this is Millie, Addie’s child. Addie was just a young girl when she came to Northgate. I trained her to be a maid, and she served as Miss Elizabeth’s personal maid while she was at Northgate. You will remember that Addie,” she stopped realising the child might hear, “well, you know the results of the fire already.” She rubbed the child’s back protectively. “Millie has been living here since the woman who took her in had to move back home with her parents.”

“A maid with a child?” Richard ventured, almost afraid to ask but curious just the same.

“Yes. She was taken advantage of by a heartless cad, who paraded about as a valet for Lord Stanton. I would not dismiss her, though I did influence the old master to rid himself of that vile man!” She sighed heavily. “In any event, we are all too old to begin raising children again, and Millie needs to be with a young couple.”

Suddenly, a solution to her problem came to mind, and William almost withered as she turned a penetrating gaze on him. “Mr. Darcy, did you mean it when you said you were indebted to us?”

He paled and Richard tried not to smile at the look his cousin was desperately trying to hide. Swallowing the lump in his throat, William tried to sound nonchalant, wondering what she was about. “Yes, madam, every word.”

“Then I have a request. Millie has no living relations, and her mother would have wanted her to have a mother and a father—not be condemned to an orphans’ home. Do you know of any people, good folk, among your acquaintance that might take Millie and raise her as their own? I ask because, to be honest, you are wealthy and have connections. Anyone you recommend, I am sure, could offer Millie a much easier life than those with whom I am acquainted. She has had such heartache in her short life. I wish to give her every chance for a good future.”

William exchanged glances with Richard and saw him nod. “I think I know the perfect couple.”

“I can tell you are a good man with a kind heart, Mr. Darcy, but I must insist on one thing before you take this precious child from my guardianship.”

“You have only to state your conditions, madam.”

“I would have your solemn promise that no matter who you deem worthy of raising Millie, you will take an interest in her affairs for the rest of your life—take on the role of a godfather, if you will. Since there is no parent to designate you as such, I will do so here and now, in front of all these witnesses. Do you accept?”

William’s eyes flicked to Richard, then back to Mrs. Browning’s steely gaze. “I accept most heartily, and I assure you, I will be in close proximity to Miss Millie as she grows. Her welfare will be my utmost concern.”

Large tears filled the housekeeper’s eyes. “I knew you were an honourable man, Mr. Darcy, the minute Mrs. Bingley told me what you were doing for Miss Elizabeth.”

“You are too kind. I am only doing what anyone would.”

“No, sir. You are doing what few men of your station would, both for Miss Elizabeth and now Millie.”

Her handkerchief now soaked, she swiped at her tears with the back of her hand and leaned down to kiss the top of Millie’s head. “It will be best for the child to get things settled quickly. When you leave, you shall take Millie with you. Arthur will go along to see after her, as she is as comfortable with him as he is with her. Once you are home, you may put him on a coach back here.”

Just at that moment, Arthur returned with the chest. As he walked into the room, every eye fixed on him, causing him to blush as red as his hair.

“What?”

~~~*~~~