Page 7 of Lizzie’s Spirit

In the library, Darcy sat in one of the high-winged leather chairs. As he sat down, he felt the stiffness of the papers he had placed in his coat earlier that day.

“Ah, I had forgotten. During my trip to St. Albans, I made time to stop at the ecclesiastical archive at Wheathampstead and search their rolls.” Darcy pulled a sheaf of papers from his pocket and handed them to his father.

“I found a reference for the year 1539 to a Lord Dorsey, spelt D-O-R-S-E-Y; a notation after the name was spelt D-A-R-C-Y.

I had no time to further my research, but the implication is the Darcy name was anglicised.

Possibly Dorsey held a barony or baronetcy.

‘Tis hardly worth the effort to investigate such; why you wish to carry out such research, I do not know.”

“Only a vanity of mine. I have no great desire for a title, but our line has shrunk to just myself and Frederick as eldest sons, and seeking ancestors provides a measure of place in the world. We Darcys do not appear to be a fecund line, for I’m aware when Lord Darcy of Aston died in 1635, the title became extinct for lack of issue.

Our line branched well before his. But your information intrigues me.

The year 1537 was when Thomas Darcy, 1st Baron Darcy of Darcy, was attainted due to rebellion against King Henry.

Perchance, another Darcy ancestor changed his name to affirm his allegiance to and favour with the King. ”

“I wish you luck, sir. But forgive me if I do not share your enthusiasm.” Darcy arose and bowed to his father. “I meet Mr. Ellis Bent on the morrow. My superior, he has been appointed Judge-Advocate for New South Wales by Viscount Castlereagh, whom you know from Eton. I take my leave, sir.”

“Castlereagh? Indeed, I know him well. Perhaps a dinner before you go, with Castlereagh, Matlock, Bent, and yourself. Mayhap, Banks as well, since he knows Botany Bay. I shall ask Lady Matlock to issue invitations and act as hostess on my behalf. It would be a good opportunity for you to gain the ear of government, and also to demonstrate the Darcys are united behind your endeavours.”

***

Several days later, Darcy sat at dinner with a select group of powerful peers.

He and Ellis Bent seemed out of place, being mere barristers in the presence of his uncle, the Earl Matlock; Viscount Castlereagh, the Secretary of State for War and the Colonies; Viscount Milton, Matlock’s son and heir; and his father, Mr. George Darcy, who, though untitled, enjoyed a powerful influence in government.

Before going down to dinner, Darcy was introduced to Mr. Ellis Bent, the new Judge-Advocate for New South Wales.

Like him, he was a Cambridge man but had studied law at Peterhouse.

He was a tall, rather heavy man, and seemed in poor health.

Darcy was surprised he intended to take the long journey to New Holland, but clearly, he was enthusiastic about his future role in the colony.

In conversation, he united the mildest and gentlest disposition with conciliating manners, good sense, and accurate legal knowledge.

Darcy’s father favoured an old-fashioned seating arrangement with the gentlemen at one end and the ladies at the other.

Being the lowest-ranked man present, Darcy found himself seated in the middle of the table.

Distant from the heavy discourse of the politicians, he was pleased to be seated next to Mrs. Eliza Bent, wife of Ellis Bent, and opposite Lady Susan, wife of his cousin Milton.

Both were delightful conversationalists, although most of the table banter was between the ladies, with Lady Matlock, his aunt, leading the discussion.

“Oh, you poor dear,” said she to Mrs. Bent, “to lose your nurse just prior to undertaking such a long journey. How will you cope?”

“Truly, I was much dismayed, but Mr. Bent is so keen on his commission, little I could do but make the best of it—I could not disappoint him by cancelling the journey. However, when dining with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, dear friends of ours, a most surprising solution arose. Attending us was Mrs. Gardiner’s niece, a handsome girl, and highly accomplished.

Her father holds a fine estate in Hertfordshire of good income.

Due to the incapacity of the father, the family has moved to the dower house while the heir presumptive takes over management of the estate.

So as not to be a burden on her mother with three sisters remaining at home—an elder sister is visiting in the north—the niece removed to London to seek a position as a lady’s companion.

Of this, I’m sure she has great competency.

She’s well-read, speaks the modern languages, and performed and sang quite admirably when she entertained us.

“Mrs. Gardiner has two children of similar age to my little boy and our younger girl. Miss Elizabeth was so patient with the Gardiners’ children, with a steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly adapted to attending to them in every way—teaching them, playing with them, and with such cheerfulness. ”

“She sounds a lovely girl,” said Lady Susan, letting Mrs. Bent indulge herself in her glowing description of her children, as all mothers are wont to do. “I begin to see where your narrative takes us…”

“Indeed, during the meal, when the loss of our nurse came up in conversation, Miss Elizabeth announced, quite forthrightly, that she would accompany us to New Holland as nurse to the children. Both her uncle and aunt remonstrated with her that the journey is overly long for a young, unaccompanied lady, and that Sydney, our destination, is a penal colony and no place for a gentlewoman. Not to be denied, she immediately suggested Mr. Bent be her protector and guardian, to which role, at my urging, Mr. Bent readily acceded. And the matter was settled—much to my benefit and relief, and with so little effort on my behalf. We had already paid for a cabin for the nurse and two children, so no extra expense was incurred. We’re remarkably fortunate.

Miss Elizabeth appears to be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high as some daughters of squires are apt to be, but of strong and resourceful character. ”

The conversation moved on, but Darcy listened intently while feigning indifference.

So, Miss Elizabeth Bennet had escaped marriage to the buffoon Collins.

He recalled working late into the early hours, carefully wording the court’s decree so that such a marriage was not mandatory.

Should Collins pursue the matter, she could be held in contempt, but the reach of the law would not extend as far as New Holland.

He smiled to himself, recalling an impertinent Miss and her perfect Latin: “Dum spiro, spero—w hile I breathe, I hope! ”