Page 7 of The Painting (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
E lizabeth woke up in excellent spirits, excited to start the new day the moment the first sounds entered through the open window.
The previous evening, after dinner, attracted by the beauty of the bright night, she had begged Jane to accompany her on a short walk along the shore.
Her sister eventually accepted, reluctant to be out alone in an unfamiliar place, with the promise that they would remain in full sight of the house.
However, once they were out, the stunning view, the call of the gently lapping water where the stars and the moon were reflected, the cool breeze—all were inviting and welcoming them, so the short stroll had lasted more than an hour.
When they returned to their chamber it was almost midnight, and they needed another hour to finally fall asleep.
The proximity of the sea brought Elizabeth more distressing musings, about a young, na?ve and sweet girl, enchanted by the sea view and deceived by a rascal.
Every time she thought of Wickham, her anger increased—more towards herself than towards him.
He was a scoundrel who had taken advantage of his godfather’s affection and kindness, thrown away all his chances to build himself an honourable and comfortable life and chosen instead to live in deception and corruption, using seduction for personal gain.
And she had fallen for his charming manners, blinded by her prejudice against Darcy !
Another concern that troubled her exceedingly was Darcy’s opinion of her, since he knew Wickham’s nature only too well.
Considering she had defended Wickham so forcefully, could he have imagined that she was concealing an improper relationship or feelings for that man?
While she did not regret for a moment rejecting Darcy’s proposal, she could not bear the shame of knowing he might think ill of her or despise her.
Unexpectedly, and for no particular reason, Elizabeth’s concern moved to Lydia.
Her youngest sister would be in Wickham’s company and such a circumstance was distressing, although Lydia could not be the recipient of his interest. She decided to visit Lydia that very day and to invite her to stay with them—as propriety required.
Ellen and Margaret’s impromptu and noisy entrance woke up Jane and brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face, making her put her worries aside for the moment.
“Lizzy, Mama says we will have a bathing machine. Mrs Crawford said she has rented one for all her guests. We are her guests too. And she said the water is not too deep and we can swim. Do you know how to swim, Lizzy?” Margaret asked.
Little Ellen replied with superior knowledge, “Of course she does! Lizzy knows how to do everything!”
Elizabeth laughed and embraced her two nieces, kissing their cheeks. “I do not know how to swim, or if I once knew, I have forgotten. But we will learn together.”
“George says he is an excellent swimmer, but I am sure he is only bragging,” Margaret continued, with a trace of jealousy, just as her brother burst into the room, ready to contradict her.
After a noisy breakfast, the party prepared to head towards the beach. But before that, Elizabeth sent a note to Mrs Forster, kindly asking for the opportunity to call on her and to visit their sister Lydia.
∞∞ ∞
Being in the room that had once sheltered his mother’s struggles only added more torment to Darcy’s already perturbed state. The chamber was comfortable and had been cleaned properly, but he barely slept at all, spending the night listening to the sound of the wind and the waves.
Anxiety overwhelmed him as he felt caught in the middle; he suspected that the story described in the letters happened in Brighton, and it lasted more than one summer.
Considering his mother had always stayed in Mrs Clarke’s cottage and nowhere else since she was very young, the events must have occurred somewhere in the neighbourhood; Lady Anne had not been the sort of a woman to seek out adventures.
He was tempted to make enquiries but did not trust his composure enough to address the right questions.
And what could he ask? Protecting his mother’s secret was much more important than satisfying his own curiosity; he wished he possessed the strength to forget about the past, but he did not it seemed.
His thoughts spun between the letters sent to his mother and the one he had sent to Elizabeth, and he could not decide which of those circumstances caused him more pain.
The upcoming meeting with Bingley was another reason for distress.
He had decided to confess the truth to his friend, including his deception regarding Jane Bennet’s presence in town, and he worried that the disclosure might affect their friendship.
He also feared discovering how much his arrogant presumption had hurt Bingley.
Regardless, their discussion must take place without delay, face to face; his friend deserved as much consideration.
He looked out of the window. The beach was empty at that early hour.
He briefly considered he had not indulged in sea bathing for more years than he could even remember.
His mother used to come to Brighton at the doctor’s recommendation, until the year she passed.
The sun, the salty breeze and the sea bathing appeared to be beneficial to her fragile health, but sadly it had not been enough.
A knock at the door startled him and his valet entered .
“Sir, breakfast is ready. Would you care to have it downstairs or shall I bring it up here?”
“I will come down, thank you. I hope Mrs Clarke will have a cup of tea with me. Has she found help for the household?”
“Yes. She has hired three maids and a young man who will help in the house and with the garden. Dickson and I will help them too. All the newly hired staff are related to her present servants. They do not have references but—”
“I have no concerns about references in this case. Did you find appropriate rooms for you and Dickson?”
“Yes, sir. There are plenty of rooms in the house, they only needed to be cleaned and arranged.”
“Good. Bingley will arrive later today, please make certain he and his man are properly accommodated.”
“Of course, sir.”
The breeze pushed the window open wider and voices from outside interrupted their conversation. Apparently, the newly hired help was already attending to their duties.
Darcy still remembered the house well enough to easily find the dining room.
Mrs Clarke greeted him with grateful joy, fussing around him anxiously. It took Darcy quite a while to calm her and convince her to sit and enjoy breakfast with him. While the lady looked animated and excited, her appetite was low, subdued by her restlessness.
“Mrs Clarke, let us not discuss this matter any longer. It is my pleasure to see this house restored to its past beauty. And if you are able to rent rooms again, so much the better. You owe me nothing and I do not wish to see you distressed. The view from my room is spectacular; I can see why my mother adored it.”
His tone, although polite, allowed no further argument on the subject, and Mrs Clarke abandoned any attempt to express further gratitude.
“I am glad you are enjoying the view, sir. Lady Anne spent hours by the window. She had a pianoforte up there and she used to play. Your father asked us to send it back to Pemberley fifteen years ago…”
“Yes, I remember. I know my mother spent many summers here. Do you happen to remember if she had any friends who visited her? Any usual visitors, somebody who kept her company regularly?”
He struggled to conceal his uneasiness as he brought up the intrusive questions; his curiosity, however, would not be easily defeated.
“Friends? I cannot recall anyone particular, sir. I know she was always with her companion. And Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine came with her occasionally. And there was an old doctor and a young one who took care of her.”
“Yes, Doctor Burton and his son.”
“Oh dear, yes, are they still alive? Doctor Burton was old even then.”
“He passed away before my mother but the son, Doctor John Burton, is still close to our family,” Darcy replied, still hesitant and uncomfortable. “Anyone else, perhaps? Outside the family?”
“I do not remember. But I will think harder. And I will ask Jenny—she has been with us for more than thirty years now. And even if she is older than me, her memory is much better.”
“Very well. And…as for your neighbours, do you know which of them have been around since those times?”
“Well, the closest to us are the Dunns, the Fitzroys, the Crawfords, the Stantons and the Youngs. I think they have all been here since I was a child—at least the families have. Some members have passed away, some have moved away, but their families have remained.”
“Thank you, Mrs Clarke,” Darcy attempted to sound light and calm.
Even if it was an unreasonable assumption, those names increased his anxiety, as he realised the secret might lie among them.
There was not much he could do, but at least he could walk around the nearby houses, and steal some glances. He might notice something, anything…
“Mrs Clarke, I heard the sound of a pianoforte yesterday. It was an excellent performance, indeed. Do you know who might have been playing?”
“Oh yes, of course! It is Julia, the Fitzroys’ granddaughter. She is married to a naval captain and she has two lovely young children. Her husband is fighting in the war and she has returned to live with her uncle and manage the household. The old Fitzroys passed away years ago.”
“I see…” Darcy replied.
“Julia was a good friend of my daughter when they were young. They both married quite well, to worthy men with good livings, thank the Lord! But her husband’s occupation is very dangerous in these times.
She seems to suffer for him so much! It is such a pity for her, she is such a pretty and caring girl.
She always has been! And so accomplished!
She plays and sings and paints and takes care of everything. ”
“How praiseworthy,” Darcy answered. “For her talent at the pianoforte, I can testify myself. My sister is also very fond of music and exceedingly talented too.”
“Oh, dear Miss Georgiana, I would give anything to meet her. Mrs Reynolds told me that she was the sweetest and most beautiful child she had ever seen.”
“I know she would love to meet you too and hopefully it will happen soon. But I am not certain of my plans yet. Now please excuse me, I am going out for another ride if you do not mind,” Darcy concluded.
“Yes, yes. And I will talk to Jenny and see if we can remember any friend of Lady Anne, although I doubt it. What a wonderful and fine lady she was. The finest. And she loved you both so much.”
“Yes, I know,” Darcy replied, eager to leave.
“I understand why you are looking for people who may have known her. Any memories about her must be very precious to you,” Mrs Clarke continued and Darcy’s embarrassment increased.
“Indeed,” he said briefly, then took his farewell again.
Mrs Clarke’s voice calling to the servants followed Darcy as he left the house.
He welcomed the fresh air and was about to mount his horse when his attention was drawn to a large group of ladies and children heading towards the shore.
He could not clearly see them through the trees and bushes, but their voices sounded loud, bright and joyful.
He suddenly realised that he could not remember a single instance when he had heard Georgiana laughing loudly, unrestrainedly, with all her heart, as most children were wont to do.
She had always been shy and reserved, always guarded with her manners, always worried about disturbing others.
She had always been so perfectly behaved that she had barely had the time to be a child.
As he mounted, Elizabeth’s smiling eyes appeared in his mind for a moment, but he dismissed the image quickly and spurred on his stallion.