Author's Note: Last night I posted chapter 11, in which Fitzwilliam Darcy was brutally attacked. A good many reviewers mentioned being distressed by what I had written. Some felt betrayed by the change in the story line, feeling that it was abrupt, and that the violence was unexpected. After considering the manner I decided to alter the way the story is written. I have removed not only the offending chapter, but the previous one which was written primarily from Darcy's perspective. It is now my intention to tell the story solely from Elizabeth's perspective. I am not changing the plot of the story, merely the manner in which it is told. We will now only learn as much about Darcy's experience as Elizabeth does, and at the same time she does. I hope this will be less distressing to my readers. I do greatly appreciate all of the feedback, and I would like to know how you all feel about it.
Chapter XII
Elizabeth was sitting by the fire in the Brooks' kitchen one chilly afternoon, keeping an eye on dinner while she mended one of the boy's shirts. Unusually enough, she was all alone, for the family were all away from home completing various chores and errands. While Elizabeth enjoyed family life with the Brooks, she also appreciated the rare opportunity to have a few moments alone.
Since her duties did not require much thought, she began to daydream as she stitched. Her reverie was suddenly interrupted by loud pounding on the front door. Expecting one of the neighbors who had borrowed a pair of kitchen shears that morning, Elizabeth simply hollered for the person to enter rather than properly answering the door. Thus was she thoroughly surprised to hear a man's heavy footfalls entering the kitchen.
Elizabeth turned quickly, and seeing Mr. Darcy, she cast aside her mending and offered a proper curtsy. Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment as she stammered her apology, "I beg your pardon, sir. I apologize heartily for not receiving you properly. May I offer you a cup of tea?"
"No thank you," Mr. Darcy answered curtly. Elizabeth sighed slightly, thankful she would not have to serve the gentleman tea. "Is Mr. Parker at hand?"
"I am sorry, sir. I believe he is in the back fields with Mr. Brooks. Would you wish me fetch him?"
"Would you instead deliver a message for him?"
"I certainly would not mind, sir. Have you written one already?"
"I have not -"
"Well, sir, as Mr. and Mrs. Brooks do not read. I do not believe they have any paper and pen at hand. Mr. Parker may have some amongst his personal items; however, I would not feel comfortable borrowing them without permission." Mr. Darcy smiled at the girl's rambling response.
"I did not mean to write a letter. I thought for you to deliver the message by mouth."
"Oh! Certainly I can speak to Parker for you."
"My son, Fitzwilliam, returned from Cambridge last night in a very poor condition. I am looking to hire a man to tend him and oversee his recovery. I know that Parker was my nephew's valet for many years, and so I thought to offer him the position if he wishes it. If he wishes to take the job, he must arrive tonight; Fitzwilliam must be tended immediately." Elizabeth's mind was full of questions, but she knew better than to ask them.
"I will speak to Parker as soon as he returns." Mr. Darcy looked thoughtfully at the young girl for a moment.
"With my son's unexpected return, there will be more work for all of the staff. I believe we would benefit from hiring another maid."
"That is a logical conclusion, sir," replied Elizabeth not understanding the purpose of the statement.
"Would you also like to come to Pemberley to work sooner than planned?" Elizabeth did not truly wish to leave the Brooks farm. Nevertheless, she remembered the debt she owed Lady Matlock and readily agreed.
When Parker returned to the house, Elizabeth practically assaulted him with the news, "Parker! You will never guess what has happened today! Mr. Darcy has been here to offer you a position!" Elizabeth continued to relay the message, barely pausing to breathe.
"Calm down!" Parker exclaimed when Elizabeth had fully informed him of the matter. "Did he say how long he expected the position to last? Or how much it would pay? Did he mention the nature of his son's illness? Would I be exposing myself to contagions? Would I be expected to return to Cambridge with the younger Darcy?"
"I know not. I just assumed that you would wish to take the position regardless of the particulars. After all, if you serve well, Mr. Darcy would surely offer you a letter of reference, and then you might be able to find another position if you do not like this one."
"What wisdom you display, Eliza! Let us pack our things and be on our way." Elizabeth giggled at Parker's enthusiasm.
"Maybe we could eat dinner first?"
Because of Elizabeth's inattentiveness, the dinner had been slightly burned, but none of the Brooks family complained. However, several of the children did issue plaintive laments when they learned of Elizabeth's planned departure. They were only slightly mollified by her promise to see them again as soon as she could.
When the meal was complete, Elizabeth tied her few possessions into a bundle, which Parker placed in his valise. Then the pair began the long walk to Pemberley manor. Both of them felt as though they were embarking upon a grand adventure, and they arrived at the manor in high spirits. As soon as they entered, Elizabeth was sent to the housekeeper, while Parker was whisked away to attend his new master.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Bristlethwaite eyed Elizabeth carefully. The woman's scrutiny unnerved her slightly, but she tried to hide her anxiety. Elizabeth briefly wondered whether livestock felt the same when they stood on the auction block.
"I understand you are called Eliza." Elizabeth nodded. "What is your full name?" Mrs. Bristlethwaite sternly demanded.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"And who are your people?"
"My father was Thomas Bennet of Longbourn."
"What was his position?" asked the housekeeper, feeling irked by the airs this new maid had assumed.
"He was the heir of the estate, ma'am. My grandfather mostly left him to manage it."
"You are a gentleman's daughter?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Illegitimate I assume."
"Certainly not!" barked Elizabeth angrily. "My father was respectfully wed to my mother."
"And who is your mother." Elizabeth had to pause for a moment to recall her mother's given name.
"My mother was Fanny Bennet. Her father is an attorney." The housekeeper raised her brows
"Have you any aunts and uncles?"
"My mother's brother, Mr. Gardiner, was in trade in London last I knew. Mama also had a sister, Miss Gardiner, who lives with my grandparents. Or at least she did. She may have married. My father had two sisters. One of them married a captain."
"In the army?"
"The navy I believe."
"And the other?"
"I do not remember. I assume she was married, because she did not live with us at Longbourn, but I cannot remember her at all."
"And have you siblings?"
"Four sisters."
"And where are they?"
"I have no idea. The last I knew they were being sent to an orphanage in London." This statement increased the housekeeper's confusion greatly, and caused her to ask far more questions than she normally would have done. Elizabeth answered the questions to the best of her ability, but as she answered her confusion increased. Elizabeth had never realized how many holes there were in her own story. How had her father died? Why had she and her sisters not been sent to other relatives? What had happened to the dowry her mother surely must have had?
Though she did not say as much, the housekeeper privately vowed to investigate the matter of Elizabeth's circumstances. Aloud, Mrs. Bristlethwaite merely continued to interrogate her new maid about her work experience.
Having lost a good deal of vanity and pride during her months at Matlock, Elizabeth was much wiser and more sincere in her answers than she had been when Mrs. Pringle interviewed her. She did not exaggerate her talents or her experience; however, she did place greater emphasis on the skills which she most enjoyed exercising.
When this interrogation was complete, Mrs. Bristlethwaite again examined Elizabeth's person.
"How old are you Eliza?"
"Thirteen, ma'am."
"We must see that you have some more appropriate attire. And your hair ought to be worn in braids. Your manner of dress suggests you are more mature than thirteen."
"As you wish. I cannot buy any new dresses, though. I have not the money."
"Oh, all of the workers at Pemberley are provided with suitable clothing. The wages here are lower than many other manors, but no one is left without proper attire. Those who are employed temporarily are generally expected to leave their clothing behind when they leave, although I am certain Lady Anne would never send anyone away with nothing to wear."
"Oh." Elizabeth mumbled, not knowing what to think.
"Now, are you familiar with the expectations the Darcys have of their staff?"
"No, ma'am. I did not ask Mr. Darcy many questions."
"Firstly, you will attend morning prayers every morning while you are here, unless you are gravely ill. The only exception is that you do not need to attend prayers in the Pemberley chapel on Sunday morning; you are expected to attend services at either Lambton or Kympton parish. One Sunday a month you will have to miss Sunday services, though." Elizabeth smiled and nodded, pleased she would be attending church.
"Secondly, you must bathe every Saturday evening. On other days you are expected to wash your hands and face and to clean behind your ears. Mrs. Reynolds may inspect you, if she suspects you are not complying. If you wish to bathe more often, you may, but you will be expected to pump water for yourself if you do." Elizabeth grinned as realized this meant that she would not be expected to fetch her own bath water on Saturday nights.
"You will be expected to be in bed every night by ten o'clock unless Mrs. Reynolds or I tell you otherwise."
"What if my assigned duties are not done by then?"
"If that is an issue, please come and tell me, or Mrs. Reynolds. If your duties do cause you to work past ten o'clock, and we feel that you have been truly attempting to complete them, you will be given an extra hour of time off on your half day."
"Will my half day be on Sunday?"
"You will have the entire day off most Sundays, and a half day on the one Sunday a month you must work. In addition to that you will have one half day off each week."
"What will my position be?"
"You will be a chambermaid. We probably need another scullery maid more than we need a chambermaid, but I cannot, in good conscience, allow a gentleman's daughter to work in the scullery."
"I worked in the scullery at Matlock."
"I ought not to disrespect my betters, but Lady Matlock does not know what she is about. As soon as we write a contract for you, I will take you to Mrs. Reynolds who is in charge of the upstairs maids. She will explain your duties to you, show you your living quarters, and help you find all of the supplies you need."
"Thank you."
"Did you have any other questions?"
"Am I allowed to sing while I work?" Eliza's question surprised Mrs. Bristlethwaite, who expect a query about wages.
"As long as you are not disturbing the Darcys."
When the contract was presented to Elizabeth, she read every word of it. She was not surprised that the wages were low, since Mrs. Bristlethwaite had given her some warning. Nonetheless, Elizabeth was dismayed by the realization that three months working at Pemberley would not bring her enough money to fully repay Lady Matlock. Still, she readily signed the contract and did not attempt to negotiate a higher wage.
When Elizabeth first met Mrs. Reynolds, she did not expect to like the woman very well, for Mrs. Reynolds did not seem at all interested in meeting the new maid. She could not know that the older woman was preoccupied by her worries for "Master Fitzwilliam" whom she had known since he was four. However, despite her distraction, Mrs. Reynolds still provided Elizabeth with far more information than she had received at the beginning of her time at Matlock. Thus, Elizabeth thanked Mrs. Reynolds kindly, and then began to retreat to the room she had been told would be hers. Upon arriving in the room, she immediately turned around to seek Mrs. Reynolds again.
When Elizabeth could not find Mrs. Reynolds, she looked for Mrs. Bristlethwaite, but was informed that the housekeeper had retired. Unable to find either of those ladies, she began seeking Parker, who was the person she actually needed to find. She spoke with several other servants before being given direction to Fitzwilliam Darcy's chambers.
Elizabeth stood in the servant's quarters and knocked on the door. To her surprise, she was quickly bid to enter. When she stepped inside, Mr. Darcy frowned dramatically.
"You are not Mrs. Reynolds!"
Elizabeth replied with impertinence, "No more than you were Mrs. Thumbkin this morning." Mr. Darcy raised his lips so that he almost smiled.
"Indeed. Now what brings you here, child."
"I was looking for Parker," Mr. Darcy's eyes narrowed at the girl.
"I cannot condone illicit meetings between menservants and maidservants. I will have to send you back to the Brooks."
"Sir!" snapped Elizabeth, with far more feeling than politeness, "I am merely trying to retrieve my things. Mr. Parker kindly carried them for me in his valise." Mr. Darcy nodded but did not apologize.
"Very well. Get her things, Parker." Mr Darcy paused for a moment, then continued, "Since you have seen my son's state, I will have you assigned to attending his chambers. You will need to come in at least twice through the night to tend the fires, the doctor says he must be kept warm." Elizabeth nodded. She had not previously noticed Fitzwilliam Darcy, but now she turned to the bed where he lay. He barely seemed to be the same young man she had met at Matlock. "You will also bring Fitzwilliam his meals, and you will do any other duties a chambermaid must. The fewer people who see Fitzwilliam this way the better."
Elizabeth again examined Fitzwilliam, who lay curled in a ball upon his bed. Though his pale skin and gaunt face distressed Elizabeth, she was far more disturbed by the haunted look in his eyes. His illness had obviously wreaked great havoc upon him.
In the wee hours of the night, Elizabeth arose and went to Fitzwilliam's bedchamber to tend the fire. Even before reaching the room, she could hear terrified screams. She entered the room and looked immediately to the bed where Fitzwilliam lay writhing and screaming. Parker stood several feet away watching Fitzwilliam but doing nothing.
"Why are you not helping him, Parker?" Elizabeth demanded.
"It is not so simple."
"Whatever can you mean? The poor man needs comfort."
"Watch," hissed Parker. Elizabeth watched as Parker approached Fitzwilliam. When he spoke, Fitzwilliam screamed more loudly. When Parker placed a gentle hand upon Fitzwilliam's shoulder, Fitzwilliam reacted violently.
"I see," Elizabeth responded apologetically.
"He will not be calmed."
"Have you tried singing?" asked Elizabeth, for a brief moment remembering a strange man singing to comfort her littlest sisters.
"I have not." Rather than urge Parker further to start singing, Elizabeth began singing softly. Almost immediately Fitzwilliam's screams decreased in intensity. By the time she had completed a full verse of the song, he had stopped screaming entirely. When Elizabeth paused, Fitzwilliam croaked out, "Mother?" Not knowing that these were the first syllables the gentleman had uttered in many weeks, Elizabeth was not as impacted by his speaking as she might have been. Nevertheless, she knew he was in a desperate position and longed to be of service.
"Parker, please summon Lady Anne. Her son needs her." Elizabeth then continued to sing. Parker quickly rushed off to summon the mistress. Several minutes later he returned alone.
"Where is Lady Anne?"
"I spoke with her maid, who says the mistress will not attend her son because it is not proper for a lady to enter a gentleman's private chambers."
"But the gentleman is her son, and he needs her."
"The rules for the higher levels of society are different."
"What is the point of having a houseful of riches and splendid gardens if a mother cannot tend her son in his hour of need? I cannot believe my mama could ever have been so cold-hearted even if she was a great lady. I do not know what this gentleman's illness is, but I can see that he suffers!"
Elizabeth settled herself on the bed beside the gentleman and spoke soothingly, "I will bring your mother to you or perish in the attempt, sir." Parker might have laughed at her hyperbole had the situation not been so dire. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling some amusement as he watched her raise herself to her full height and storm out of the room.
Since no one was visible in the hallway, and Elizabeth did not know where to find Lady Anne, she rushed into the servants' quarters and located Mrs. Reynolds.
"Where are the mistress's chamber?" Elizabeth sharply inquired.
"That is a question to answer in the morning, child! Why should you wake me with such a trivial concern. You only need to tend Master Fitzwilliam's fire through the night. The master and mistress prefer not to be disturbed.
"The young master is asking for his mother, ma'am."
"He has spoken?"
"He has."
"Praise God!" replied the older maid, with tears in her eyes. Seeing Elizabeth's confusion, she continued, "According to Master Wickham, Master Fitzwilliam has not spoken since he was attacked weeks ago!" Mrs. Reynolds information created more questions in Elizabeth's mind.
"He was attacked? I thought he was simply ill with some dreadful disease."
"Since you are the one who will tending his rooms, I thought you already knew. Master Fitzwilliam was set upon by thugs who robbed him and beat him senseless." Compassion surged in Elizabeth's young heart.
"How could anyone do that?"
"And to such a good man," Mrs. Reynolds replied, unable to attempt an explanation. "Let me fetch the mistress."
"I must come with you, in case she does not immediately agree to see her son." Mrs. Reynolds saw no harm in allowing the young maid to follow her; if she had anticipated that young maids behavior, however, she might have forbade it.
Upon arriving at the mistress chambers, Elizabeth pushed past Mrs. Reynolds and did not bother knocking.
"Lady Anne, you must come at once. The young master needs you!" Mr. Darcy, who was sleeping beside his wife, glared angrily at Elizabeth.
"You again! Get out!"
"I shall not get out until Lady Anne agrees to attend Master Fitzwilliam." The master issued a low growl.
"Is he recovering then? Has he left his bedchamber? Tell me where to find him, and I shall go to him at once," Lady Anne eagerly inquired.
"He has not left his bed, my lady. He asked for his mother, and I promised I would fetch you."
"Why were you in my son's bedchamber, young miss!" shouted Mr. Darcy, unkindly.
"I was tending the fire, Sir, just as you said I must."
"Ah." Mr. Darcy mumbled, "Still, there is no cause for my wife to violate propriety by entering a place where no true lady would venture."
"George," Lady Anne softly intoned, "I will go to my son. If Fitzwilliam needs me, then propriety be hanged." George Darcy clearly did not approve of his wife's choice, but he did not argue further.
After throwing on a dressing gown and slippers, Lady Anne rushed to her son's room. All of the grace and elegance for which she was known had been discarded as her son's welfare mattered more to the lady than any other concern.
Before arriving in Fitzwilliam's chambers, Elizabeth could hear that the gentleman had resumed his nightmares.
"Oh my son!" gasped the great lady, moving more quickly than she had since her girlhood.
Even by the dim light of the fire, Lady Anne discerned that her son was in a sorry state indeed. She rushed to embrace him.
"Oh my child! My darling boy! If I had known you were so poorly, the fire of hell would not have kept me away." Saying this, she took his hands into her own and pressed them to her cheeks.
Before long, Fitzwilliam settled into a restful sleep. Observing this, Elizabeth returned to her own room to rest.