Page 50 of Missing

"At this time tomorrow, we shall be at one of the season's most important events, and I shall wear my new gown," said Louisa happily.

"I am delighted that Madame Dupont found time in her busy schedule to make us such beautiful gowns. Besides, we shall wear the jewellery our mother bought for us. Do you not think it is a wonderful idea, Louisa?" Caroline asked her sister.

"Of course, Caroline. We must look as elegant as all the other ladies," Louisa replied. Then she turned to her sister-in-law and asked, "And you, Jane, what gown are you planning to wear?"

The family was dining together, and Jane had remained silent. She did not care to join in her sisters-in-law's frivolous conversation, but unfortunately, Louisa's question left her no choice but to respond.

"I shall wear the cream gown my aunt Gardiner gave me," Jane said quietly, and resumed eating.

Mr Hurst paid no attention to the exchange, being wholly absorbed in his food and drink, while Mr Bingley sat reading a letter from the steward at Netherfield with evident concern.

"Jane, I do not think that gown would be appropriate for Lord Sutton's ball. You should wear the yellow dress I gave you when we purchased your trousseau. The one your aunt selected is far too plain," Caroline said with disdain.

"Dear Jane, your aunt has neither the class nor the social knowledge to comprehend the sort of gown suitable for our circles," Louisa added, echoing her sister's tone.

"I disagree. My aunt is an elegant and sophisticated lady, and the gown she gave me is one of the loveliest I own.

I have never worn it, having reserved it for an occasion such as this," Jane replied nervously.

Though she felt suffocated by tension, she could no longer endure their constant criticism without protest.

"You may do as you please, but do not complain afterwards if you are the laughing-stock of the ball," Caroline concluded. She then ignored Jane entirely and resumed her discussion with Louisa about the details of the event.

Jane continued to eat in silence, though she could not help but glance at her husband.

Mr Bingley seemed unmoved by the manner in which his sisters slighted the wife he professed to love.

Observing the scene, Jane compared Charles to William Dalton.

Once, Caroline had attempted to speak disrespectfully to Elizabeth, and William had defended her immediately, while Charles never offered her the least support.

Jane's admiration for her sister's husband grew still greater, for he was considerate and mature, whereas her own husband appeared weak and compliant.

After dinner, Jane excused herself, pleading a headache, and retired at once to her room. Yet she had scarcely begun to undress when her husband followed her.

"My dear angel, I hope your headache will be but temporary. Do drink plenty of water and go to bed early. First, I shall play cards with Hurst, and later I shall come to you," Charles said.

"It is well, Charles," Jane replied. She longed to tell him how deeply it wounded her when he allowed his sisters to belittle her and her family, but she had not the strength to endure another quarrel, nor did she wish him to see her in tears.

"One more thing, my dear. Tomorrow I wish us to visit the Daltons," Charles added, kissing her cheek.

"Charles, why do you wish to visit my sister's family tomorrow? Is it merely a social call?" Jane asked, already suspecting the true reason.

"Yes, a social call—but I must also speak with Dalton. You see, today I received a letter from Netherfield's steward, and there are matters requiring resolution, though I am not quite certain how to proceed. I do not wish to trouble Uncle Gardiner again, so—"

"CHARLES!" Jane cried, interrupting him.

He was stunned, for he had never imagined his gentle angel capable of raising her voice, let alone shouting.

"What is the matter, Jane?"

"You cannot burden my brother-in-law again with your problems."

"Why not? He is knowledgeable, and I am sure he does not mind assisting me."

"Perhaps not, but it is improper for you always to rely upon others to solve your difficulties."

"And what would you have me do, then?" asked Mr Bingley in rising anger.

"I would have you behave like an adult and learn to manage your own affairs. Besides, Mr Dalton will not help you, for I asked Lizzy to tell her husband not to interfere any longer in your business."

"And why would you do that?"

"For the wrong reasons, yet I believe it was the right decision in the end," Jane replied more calmly.

"I cannot comprehend what you mean, but I prefer not to prolong this discussion. I shall go and play cards with Hurst and pretend this conversation never took place."

"Do as you wish, Charles," Jane said wearily. When her husband left, she cast herself upon her bed and at last fell asleep in tears.

◆◆◆

"Please, Mrs Dalton, be seated. If you will excuse me, I shall pour myself a glass of brandy and listen to all you have to say," said Mr Darcy. He felt unable to master his nerves and needed something to steady himself.

Violet sat down, wiped away a few tears, and at last began to tell Mr Darcy the story of the river boy who had been her dear child for the past twenty-two years.

"That week, when my husband and I returned to Manchester, we were stranded for several days at a small inn. Whilst my husband went to speak to the blacksmith, I took a walk. On the bank of a nearby river, I found a terrified little boy clinging to a tree trunk…"

As Violet recounted the details of how she had found her son William, Mr Darcy listened in horror. His poor child had survived the torrential waters and had spent a whole night alone, frightened and forsaken. The river had carried him for more than twenty miles.

Violet continued with what had happened in the following days.

She explained that no one in the area recognised the child, nor had anyone reported him missing.

"My husband and I pitied the boy we called River, and we decided to take him with us to Manchester.

We had been married more than ten years, were well established financially, yet had never been blessed with children of our own. "

"And that is the reason you chose to keep a child who was not yours?" asked Mr Darcy angrily. "You cannot imagine the agony my wife and I endured, believing our son drowned in that river."

"You are mistaken, Mr Darcy. I know all too well what it is to lose a loved one.

But the circumstances were not as you imply," Violet answered firmly.

She drew from her small bag the clothes William had worn that day and laid them upon Mr Darcy's desk.

Then she produced several old newspapers with notices her husband had placed, as well as the posters their solicitor had distributed across Manchester and sent to the inn near where the boy had been found.

Mr Darcy examined the evidence and was silenced.

The Daltons had indeed attempted to trace the boy's family, though in the wrong place.

"It was hardly surprising that no one in Manchester knew anything of my son.

He grew up on an estate and travelled with us to London; he never set foot in Manchester," he said, still agitated.

Violet disregarded his hostility and continued her tale.

"For three months, the child said nothing.

A physician even told us he was likely deaf, and that was the reason his family had abandoned him.

When at last he spoke, he told me his name, which to our ears sounded like William.

That is why we gave him that name. He never remembered anything of his past, nor could he give us any indication of his origins.

In time, we consulted one of Manchester's most eminent doctors, who concluded that the accident was so traumatic that William had blocked out not only the event itself but all memory of his previous life. "

"It cannot be," cried Mr Darcy, his voice trembling, "that my son lived apart from his family for twenty-two years, that his mother died in grief while strangers raised her child."

"My husband and I did what we believed was right. Had we known his parents were searching for him, we would have restored him to you. We thought him an abandoned boy who, without our protection, would be left to the orphanage or the streets, like so many other children."

"Although I cannot fathom what you and your husband did, I cannot deny that you sheltered and cared for my son when he most needed it, and I am grateful.

But it is now time for MY SON to take his rightful place in his family and in society.

It is time for Fitzwilliam Darcy to return, and I trust you will not obstruct it. "

"I shall do only what is best for my son—"

"Madam, William Dalton does not exist. Fitzwilliam Darcy is the son of my late wife, Anne Darcy. She is his mother, not you!"

"I understand, Mr Darcy. But know this: I shall do what William himself wishes, not what you or I may desire. I shall never stand in the way of my beloved child's happiness; everything I do shall be for him, not for you nor anyone else."

"I must speak to my son at once. He has much to learn about Pemberley and his inheritance. Tomorrow I shall go to your house and tell him everything. He must come to live here, in his home," Mr Darcy declared, speaking almost to himself.

"Mr Darcy, I beg you, allow me to speak to him first."

"Mrs Dalton, have you not had enough years with MY SON? Do not interfere further."

"You may be his father, Mr Darcy, but you do not know him as I do. If you appear at our house tomorrow expecting him to change his life at a word, he will resist you. I know his nature."

"Are you suggesting that my son is unreasonable? Is this what you and your husband taught the heir of Pemberley?" asked Mr Darcy, his temper rising.