A Generation's Secrets

by SophieTurner1805

In the wake of a life-changing event, Georgiana and Elizabeth learn the secrets of the previous generation. A trip to America will reunite the former Bennet sisters, but when they gather at Pemberley, events there will leave their generation with its own secrets to hide. Fourth story in the Constant Love series.

25. Part 1, Chapter 25

Chapter 25

They were fortunate that the quarter sessions came not long after Jemmy Brown's arrest for poaching. While Mrs. Brown understandably grew more fretful in the preceding days, Elizabeth was glad to approach a resolution. No good would come of keeping Jemmy in gaol for weeks on end, unable to earn anything to aid his family and causing worry for all who knew of the situation and viewed it with sympathy rather than heartlessness.

Mrs. Brown and her children went to Derby in a carriage provided by the Darcys. It was an older model typically used to transport the family's servants, but Mrs. Brown still seemed overwhelmed by its quality, lifting her two younger children inside gingerly, and then thanking the Darcys profusely as she climbed inside herself. The Darcys were in a rather unusual formation for husband and wife: Mr. Darcy in the post-chaise with his valet, Mrs. Darcy riding alongside it on her mare. Elizabeth had found a little amusement in this juxtaposition, amusement which was sorely needed to see such a travelling party off. She had taken to riding Flora into the village more often, so as to draw less notice to that first time she had done so, and found she liked it better. The approach of the Darcy carriage always seemed to change the mood of the village – Elizabeth had often caught people stopping to bow or simply to stare. A lady on horseback, however, was just a little more like them and far less grand, even if she was wearing a very smart green riding habit and riding the prettiest thoroughbred mare anyone in the village had ever seen.

The weather was fine and the windows had been let down on the post-chaise, so when Mrs. Brown and her children seemed settled, Darcy beckoned Elizabeth over to his side of the chaise and held out his hand. Elizabeth drew Flora up as close as she could and offered her own hand. He clasped it, and murmured, "I intend to return as soon as the trial is over, but if perchance we are delayed, I will send word of the outcome."

"I pray it will be that he is not guilty," Elizabeth said. "Good luck to you, my love."

He pulled her hand closer and leaned down to kiss the top of her glove. "I will do all I can, and pray it will be enough." Then he released her hand and called out to Powell to set off.

Since Laurence Sinclair would surely be going to the quarter sessions as well, Elizabeth thought she would call on Abigail on her way home, knowing her friend would be more relaxed in his absence. She informed Alfred, the groom attending her, that they would go home by way of Berewick, and then turned Flora around to go back through the village. When she arrived at Berewick however, she found she had been too early, for there was a post-chaise in the drive and Laurence Sinclair could be seen striding towards it. He saw Elizabeth and came around to the other side of the chaise, saying, "Mrs. Darcy, it is good of you to call, but Mrs. Sinclair is unwell and will not be able to see you." His eyes rather obviously moved over the entirety of Elizabeth and Flora, from hat to hooves, and he added, "Where do you have your riding habits made, Mrs. Darcy? My wife could at least dress more modishly, if she insists on staying mounted on that old nag."

"They are done by my husband's tailor, Stultz," said Elizabeth. She did not inform him that unless a riding habit for Abigail was commissioned by one of the Darcys, he was likely to wait some months for it to be done. Elizabeth's patronising Stultz for the occasional pelisse and all of her riding habits had led to quite a surge in business for an already busy man, although he always executed her requests and those of her husband expediently, well aware of who it was that drove this new demand. Nor did she mention that she knew far more than she ought regarding Berewick's present finances, thanks to her efforts to help Abigail retrench in a way that would not be noticed by her husband. A riding habit made by Stultz was not something the Sinclairs could afford. Not that such a thing would stop Laurence Sinclair, Elizabeth thought bitterly.

"Ah, Stultz. I prefer Weston, but everyone knows his work is excellent."

"I have always been very pleased with it," said Elizabeth. "I am very sorry to hear Abigail is feeling poorly. Is there anything I can do to aid her? Some arrowroot, perhaps?"

For just a moment, he looked discomfited, but then his countenance returned to its usual boorish arrogance, and he said, "Just the usual female indisposition. Nothing to worry over."

"Oh, of course. Well, do not let me keep you from your travels, Mr. Sinclair. Perhaps Morley could have a note sent round to Pemberley, when Mrs. Sinclair is feeling up to company again?" Elizabeth glanced over at Berewick's butler, and he nodded.

"Yes, very well," said Laurence Sinclair. "Well, I must be off – quarter sessions, part of a magistrate's duties, you understand."

"Yes," replied Elizabeth sharply, "I understand very well."

Sinclair lept into his post-chaise, called out to his postillion to ride on, and drove off in a cloud of dust. Left in said dust, Elizabeth glanced over the façade of Berewick. It was older than Pemberley – more of an age with Longbourn, abeit larger – but she had always found it to be a charming old place when occupied by the prior generation. Now, however, she espied Abigail standing before one of the old windows, and started when she saw the great purple bruise surrounding the lady's eye. Elizabeth raised her hand weakly in acknowledgement and Abigail flitted back from the window. It had been made clear that Elizabeth was not to visit with Abigail while this evidence of her husband's abuse was still visible, but Elizabeth vowed they would speak of it, when next she was allowed to see her friend.

Disheartened and worried, she rode back to Pemberley's stables, was assisted down from the saddle by Marshall, and began the walk back to the house. There was a side entrance to Pemberley, one convenient to the working rooms of the estate on the ground storey – the entrance went right past Mr. Richardson's study – but also to the master's and mistress's apartments on the first storey, and Elizabeth had always presumed it to have been designed with access to the stables in mind, for this most equestrian of families. There was one thing slightly different in the view of the side of the house these days, and that was the curtains hanging in the windows of Elizbeth's apartments. They had been made and installed, giving Elizabeth ready inspiration for the rest of the décor. Jasper would have to remove them and reinstall them when he got to the more serious work on the room – removing the panelling would be quite an undertaking – but although he had known this, he had hung them cheerfully, even pronouncing them to be very nice. Jasper would be required to start on this next phase of work fairly soon, for Sarah had procured the samples of wallpaper and Elizabeth had made her decision: a series featuring scenes of Italy was to adorn the walls of both her dressing-room and bedchamber. It had been the most stimulating of the options Sarah had given her, and although Elizabeth had not seen the full series, she was promised both the famous landmarks she and George had looked through, and garden terraces and groves of orange trees. It had been the latter two that had most appealed to her, although the famous landmarks could not be ignored either. Since Elizabeth and her family had been deprived of their trip to the Mediterranean, it would instead adorn her walls, and further her plans for rooms that felt as though they had brought the outdoors inside.

Elizabeth felt a welcome swell of pleasure as she viewed the new curtains hanging from her windows. Except – she halted, and gazed at the windows with narrowed eyes. It appeared Jasper had missed the farthest window to the left in his installation of the new curtains. Yet a few moments' thought told her this was not possible, as she had been in the bedchamber multiple times and seen all of the windows adorned with the new curtains. It should not have been possible at all for there to be a window still featuring Lady Anne Darcy's old gilt fringed damask curtains, for the space beside Elizabeth's bedchamber was the east staircase, with its curtainless windows.

Which could only mean that the space immediately beside Elizabeth's bedchamber was not the east staircase. Her stomach lurching in anticipation of the possibilities, Elizabeth increased her pace towards the house, strode inside with the barest acknowledgement for the footman who opened the door for her, and raced up the east staircase – which had nary a curtain in sight. Indulging in her suspicion, Elizabeth paced out the length of the hallway leading to her door, then went inside the bedchamber and paced out the distance from the door to the wall. With giddy excitement, she found the distances did not match.

Before they had taken up residence at Pemberley, Darcy had told her of the one secret room in the house he knew of, off of the library, and had teazed her that perhaps there were others she might encounter. She did not think he knew of this one – surely such a room must be the cause of what she had observed – for even if his original intent had been to let her discover it, she did not think he would have let her go this long with nary a hint as to what lurked beside her own bedchamber.

Now that Elizabeth had identified that there was a secret room, she was eager to find the entrance. Surely it must be hidden within the wood paneling along the wall – now that she looked at it considering that a door could be inside, she could see any number of places where one might have been concealed. Starting nearest the window, she began looking along the wall for some latch or some mark on the wood that might indicate a means of entry, but could not find anything promising. She went around the bed and searched there as well, but her efforts were similarly unfruitful. Scowling, she looked at the bed and determined the mechanism for entry must be somewhere behind it, and if this was the case, she would need to wait for its removal. Impatience welled within her at the thought. She leaned against the wall beside the bed to see if there was anything visibly suspicious behind the tall old four-poster, and promptly tumbled into the space she had been attempting to gain access to. She landed on the floor within, stirring up a great cloud of dust. Dust was not her immediate concern, however.

Her immediate concern was that if the door was so simple that it could be opened by pushing on it, then the room could only be fully closed from the inside, and if it had been closed for all these years, there must still be some incumbent within. Desperately, she looked about her for the skeleton she – fueled by a penchant for gothic novels in her youth – not only wholly expected to find, but presumed would be wearing a veil. There was no skeleton to be seen, however.

Laughing at herself, she sat up on the floor and began examining the door to figure out how it had managed to get closed so thoroughly from the outside. Eventually, she found something at the very bottom – a nail through a tattered piece of ribbon. Elizabeth pulled at the ribbon and it ripped free from the nail, and as she ran it between her thumb and forefingers, she found it entirely dry-rotted. She could only presume that the ribbon had once been much longer, enabling someone in the bedchamber to pull the door closed. A little piece of ribbon up against the wall would have been wholly innocuous in a lady's bedroom – so innocuous, indeed, that Elizabeth presumed that after the dry rot had set in, some maid had pulled at it and disposed of the piece that had come away in her hand.

Now that she had solved this mystery, she looked about her to see what it was precisely she had gained access to. Her view of this was partially obscured, for there was still a heavy cloud of dust in the air, lit by the sunlight from the window so that it seemed as though the room was enveloped in a strange, glittering fog. Elizabeth clambered over some piece of furniture and made to open the window so as to freshen the air, and although surprisingly it yielded with no more effort than the others in her bedchamber, her doing so made a sudden gust of wind hit the room and stir up even more dust.

Coughing, Elizabeth was forced to retreat to the bedchamber and find her handkerchief, so she could hold it up against her mouth and nose. Then she pushed the door open again – how delightfully simple yet well-concealed it was, and perhaps this was why she had never noticed it within the panelling! – and had her first proper look at the room.

What she saw amazed her. The item of furniture before the window was a chaise that had once been thickly cushioned, but the cushion was a little misshapen from use and the simple silk fabric heavily faded. Over the back of the chaise was haphazardly draped a blanket, and on the windowsill beside it laid a book. Elizabeth stepped closer, saw that it was the fourth volume of Sir Charles Grandison, and found herself strangely concerned that its reader had embarked on it without finishing it, for there was something about the room that made it feel as though it had been stopped at a moment in time, so she did not think the leaving off of Sir Charles Grandison had been voluntary – although with a work of such length, this could not be entirely ruled out.

She looked about the rest of the room. It was long and narrow, and the darker back half seemed to be used only for storage. Nearer to Elizabeth was a pretty little secretaire and a chair. The curtains on the window were the only thing of Lady Anne's usual ostentation, for the walls were plain white, although as Elizabeth drew closer to them, she found them hung with pictures of the greatest fascination.

They were all watercolours, and the first she saw was of a boy and a far younger girl, standing hand-in-hand before a lake. Their backs were to the painter, but their faces were turned just enough towards each other for an indication of sibling affection to be visible. The skill of the painter was evident and felt vaguely familiar to Elizabeth, but what struck her most was the tone of it, as though she could not only see but hear the stream. She stepped closer to the painting, and saw that it was signed only with the initials "E. F.," but this was sufficient for her to know who the painter had been. This had been a gift from Lady Ellen to her sister by marriage, and this meant the children in the painting could only be Darcy and Georgiana. Upon realizing this, Elizabeth examined it with even more fondness. There were others, one of Pemberley and several scenes of Stradbroke Castle, a view of Lambton common, and one of four boys playing together, a taller one that must have been young Andrew Fitzwilliam, the other three nearer in height: Edward, Darcy, and George Wickham, Elizabeth presumed. All of the paintings, save perhaps the latter, which showed a man her husband would rather forget, ought to be displayed in more prominent places within the house, rather than being hidden away here, and it was only her curiosity to learn what else was within the room that prevented Elizabeth from immediately removing them from the walls.

She moved towards the back of the room to the storage space, comprised of shelves filled with various items: a book carrier that held the other volumes of Sir Charles Grandison; a large box of such quality as indicated its maker had been a master of the art of quilling, and within two patch boxes, a filigree vase similar to those of George Darcy's collection, and an exquisite painted fan showing what must have been some scene from antiquity; valises holding neatly folded children's' clothing, including more christening gowns than Elizabeth would have expected; a writing slope that had clearly borne much travelling; and finally a large set of the sort of inexpensive marbled journals that can be bought at any bookshop or circulating library. They were less worn than Samuel Richardson's volumes had shown themselves to be on closer inspection, but they had clearly been filled. Hesitantly, Elizabeth drew one out and opened to the first page to read:

"December 2, 1778

"Mama and Cathy are arguing again over my presentation at Court. Cathy continues to fight it because she is still unwed, but mama says she has had three seasons to make a match and has not done so. Mama claims that with my more biddable disposition I will be easier to marry off, and therefore she would rather have me out now, for it will be sooner for her to have only one daughter to dispose of. These are not quite the words mama used, but her sentiment was clear enough. I know I am quieter than Cathy, but I do not know that this means I should be married off any sooner than her. In truth I do not know how either of us should be married off with naught but 10,000 pounds for a dowry. Would that Andrew had been here over the past two years! He cannot always influence papa, particularly to curb his gambling, but perhaps at least he could have stopped papa from making such awful investments to try to reduce his losses."

"Oh dear," Elizabeth murmured. A quick glance through the remainder of the pages proved her initial suspicion to be correct, that this was Lady Anne Darcy's journal, although more correctly she had still been Lady Anne Fitzwilliam at the time of writing this entry. Elizabeth faced a choice, then, and a little guiltily made the decision within moments: Lady Anne's privacy could not hold strong against such an overwhelming tide of curiosity. Elizabeth read on.

"10,000 pounds, for the daughter of an earl! I do not blame mama for it, for she has done her best to keep papa out of the gaming hells, but still, it is one thing I completely agree with my sister on, that we have been placed in a most unfair position, to have portions that do not match our position. I am more practical about things than Cathy, tho. I am sure Sir Lewis de Bourgh would offer for her, were she merely to give him the slightest hint that he would meet with success, but she swears she will not settle for a knight and nothing less than a viscount will do. I do not agree with her. I would be perfectly happy to be courted by a man below my station, so long as he has fortune enough to maintain us and has affections towards me. I look at poor mama, who had a marriage arranged with a man of her station, only to be required to suffer papa's gambling all these years. I do not know that I should seek to marry for love, for I am not sure I should ever be so fortunate as to find a man I could love, but I should like to find a reasonable man, a responsible man, and above all a kind man, and I do not know that there is a man within our sphere who possesses these qualities and would be willing to take a wife with only 10,000 pounds.

"December 7, 1778

"Andrew is coming home! We just received a letter from him that he and Mr. Darcy will take their passage to Dover from Naples on the next ship bound thither. They have grown concerned that with the hostilities between France and our country, passage should grow ever more dangerous and so they will travel on a Neapolitan merchant ship. Their letter was carried by an English frigate which must have got through, and by the timing Andrew gives they should be here at Stradbroke before Christmas.

"O, how I long to see Andrew again! I do not begrudge him his Grand Tour, and I am glad his schoolfellow thought the prestige of Andrew's place an equal trade for this Mr. George Darcy's more ample funds, but still, I think Andrew is the only person in our family who truly understands me and I have missed him desperately. Andrew's friend is to stay with us for a few days before travelling on to his family in Derbyshire. He sounds very amiable from Andrew's letters and so I think it will be nice to have him here. I know that I am quite weary of being here with just papa, mama, and Cathy, and I expect a good friend of Andrew's to be better company than the three of them, although that is unfair to poor mama, who I think might have been different, had she married a different man.

"December 16, 1778

"They are here! I shall write more later, but I am so very happy to see Andrew again. I cannot say I had particular expectations of Mr. Darcy, but even so, he has exceeded them all. I do not think I have ever met a more handsome or more amiable man. I was shocked by both him and Andrew when they alighted the post-chaise – both of them were deeply tanned. I suppose it should be expected for two young men travelling in such a climate but I had not thought to expect it. So this was what I noticed first, but then I had a better look at Mr. Darcy's countenance and was quite overwhelmed. He wears his own hair, and it was unpowdered for travelling. His eyes are intelligent and his mouth – there is something pleasing about his mouth when he speaks.

"Andrew had collected very little, owing to our situation here, but Mr. Darcy had a whole trunkful of items – and, we were given to understand, many more pieces that had been shipped directly to his family home at Pemberley – and he showed us so many interesting pieces when the gentlemen rejoined the ladies after dinner. I think I could have watched him talk all night – and listened, for he has a melodic, resonant voice.

"December 18, 1778

"I do not know what is happening to me. Whenever I am in company with Mr. Darcy, I feel this strange dizziness and a churning in my stomach. It is not just that he is handsome, although he is, exceedingly so. He is so kind, and solicitous, and intelligent. I find it difficult to converse with strangers, but when I speak with him I never feel uncomfortable, as tho I have nothing to say. Even with the physical affect his presence has on me, I can still converse with him. Much of this is to his credit – he asks questions at just the right time to keep the conversation going. He seems to be one of those people who is exceedingly skilled in conversation. I admire it – O, I admire so much about him!

"Today he expressed an interest in seeing the old castle, and Andrew said he would take him on a tour and invited Cathy and I to go with them. Cathy says he is a commoner and surely this is why she immediately said she had no interest in going through the droughty old castle, but I think I would have gone anywhere to spend more time in Mr. Darcy's company, so I went with them. I think we were there for half the day and yet it felt like no time at all. Andrew and Mr. Darcy told me many tales of their travels but Mr. Darcy also asked me many questions about myself and what it was like to live at Stradbroke. I am given to understand that Pemberley, his family estate in Derbyshire, features a much newer house although the family have been in England since William the Conqueror – the former house has gone to ruin, he said. He quite enjoyed the castle and all its dusty corners because it is novel to him. He says he enjoys dining in the great hall for the same reason. I wish I could find his enthusiasm contagious in this. I would much rather live in a house where Robert Adam had recently designed the state rooms over old Stradbroke with its sad brick façade and ancient old furniture. I am always ashamed when we have people to visit, although at least that no longer happens with any frequency, since we have retrenched so much.

"We also talked about my accomplishments and again he was very complimentary of my playing the harpsichord. He must think me terribly old-fashioned, although he has been kind about it. How I wish mama and papa would let me get a pianoforte instead, but they see it as an unnecessary expense. It makes me so angry at papa that he can lose five times the cost of a new pianoforte in one night at Almack's Club, and thus it is considered something I cannot have. I am sure all the other debutantes will have changed to that instrument and I only hope I will not be a laughingstock. Sometimes I wish for nothing more than to get away from Stradbroke, from debt and retrenchment and Cathy and papa.

"I will not admit this anywhere but here, but over the past few days I have been wondering if it could be Mr. Darcy to rescue me. It is terribly forward of me! Yet everything about his situation save his lack of a title is so very eligible, and I would gladly give that up to be joined to such a man. I never believed in love at first sight but now I do wonder if it is indeed real. Or is this just an infatuation that will pass? I cannot tell at this time – I feel the desire to be in his company as much as I possibly can, and I have never felt that way about anyone before. I think his appearance of goodness must match what is inside his head and heart – Andrew would not have travelled with him for two years if it did not. And of course beyond my own feelings I am being very premature in presuming anything about his. He often initiates conversation with me, but he seems the sort of man who endeavours to make every member of his party comfortable in conversation, and perhaps he senses that I am least comfortable, even among my own family. And I know not whether he is even allowed to consider his own heart. It may be that there are other plans for him – plans involving a more well-dowered bride. All I know is that when he is gone I will miss him terribly, and I am glad he has already promised to see us often in town during the season. His father is a member in the Commons and the whole family will be coming to town. Given his friendship with Andrew I have hopes of seeing him often.

"December 21, 1778

"He is gone. The wait now until the season seems unbearable, but at least we had a wonderful evening last night. I played Scarlatti and he offered to turn the pages for me. I am glad I know it so well or I think the distraction of his presence would have caused me to make a great many blunders. He was so very complimentary again when I finished and then Cathy tried to ruin everything by giving her old line about how if she would have learned she would have been a true proficient – meaning, of course, more proficient than her sister. It upset me, as it always does, thinking of how I applied myself to practise and she never did, and my family just ignored her, as they always do. But Mr. Darcy expressed his sympathy over whatever physical condition had prevented her from learning. His tone was innocent and Cathy spluttered that there was nothing physically wrong with her, and how dare he presume there was. And he said, O! I shall never forget it – 'my apologies, Lady Catherine, I made an assumption on why you do not play given your sister's skill. I should not have presumed the cause.' And Cathy turned bright red in the face, but there was nothing she could say, and then he looked down at me for just a moment, but in that moment I could see that he knew, that he understood my situation. It was then that I knew I loved him, and I almost fainted when he offered his hand to assist me in rising from the stool. So it is decided – I love George Darcy, and the wait until I see him again will be most painful to endure."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "I think this infatuation of yours shall come out well," she murmured, in amusement. There was much to be amused about in what Lady Anne wrote – such strong romantic feelings in such a young lady for the man she had ultimately married, and every reference to Cathy brought Elizabeth near giggles, particularly when Mr. Darcy had caught her out in not learning the harpsichord. Yet there was more hardship than Elizabeth had expected – she had understood that Stradbroke had been in some debt in the previous generation, but not the impact on its daughters. It made sense, when she thought on it, that neither Anne nor Cathy had married the heir to a noble title, as might have been expected of them. What touched Elizabeth's heart, though, was Lady Anne's seeming discomfiture in the world, the sisterly and even motherly affection she lacked, her desire to escape her childhood home. Elizabeth had been standing as she read the passages, and she drifted toward the chaise and sat down to read more.

"December 25, 1778

"Christmas was nicer than I expected. Mama had already told me not to expect many gifts with all it will cost to dress me for the season, but Andrew had bought me some pretty little things during his travels: a filigree glass vase and a very pretty patch box, and a fan so exquisite I think I will be afraid to use it.

"It has been his presence which made this year's Christmas far more bearable than the last, and yet I still spent more time than I ought thinking about his friend, whether he had a safe journey back to Pemberley and wondering how the Darcys spent their day."

"December 26, 1778

"O, what an awful day! The outcome of it was for the best but I have found it all terribly distressing. It all began at breakfast, when papa told Andrew he shouldn't have bought things for us during his travels – and really he should have retrenched with the rest of us and returned much earlier. Andrew said he'd never spent more than his meagre allowance and we have Mr. Darcy to thank for that, for his friend is generous and has the means to be generous because his own father has been more responsible with his money. I know I have long thought this, but still, for Andrew to say it out loud was a shock. Papa was certainly shocked. He turned very red in the face and told Andrew not to speak thus to his father, but Andrew continued. He asked where the Rubens had gone – for anyone could see the big empty space in the Great Hall. Papa spluttered that Andrew would be sent to his room if he kept on. Andrew said he would go there but really those who should be sent to their rooms were those who could not act as responsible men should. They were shouting – they have never spoken to each other thus and I know it must have been difficult for quiet Andrew to stand up to papa in such a manner. It made me feel very distraught and anxious and Andrew said I was unwell and he would take me up.

"'It needed to be said, Anne,' was all he said to me, except to say he'd have them send up some tea, to soothe my nerves. I spent the rest of the day before dinner in my room and developed quite a head-ache. I almost asked to take a tray there, but I was hoping Andrew and papa would reconcile during dinner and I wanted to know we were all at peace again. But we were not. Andrew bade the servants to leave and they commenced shouting at each other again. I excused myself as my head-ache was growing ever worse, but Andrew asked me to wait, and he told papa that if he was not ashamed about Andrew's birthright and the Earldom, he ought to be ashamed of what he had done to his daughters, that I was the sweetest, gentlest creature in the world and could have made a brilliant match with an appropriate dowry for my station. They argued still more until Andrew finally proposed what I suppose he had been working towards all this time – that when we went to town he would see to tying up what remained of our dowries in trust so that even if papa contracted further debts, they would be protected.

"O, dear Andrew! To prompt such a confrontation on my behalf! Papa did agree to it, although begrudgingly. He claimed he would never gamble again but none of the rest of us believed him and he must have seen it on our countenances. I left after that and I believe everyone else retired not soon after, for Andrew came to my room and asked if I still had the head-ache and I said I did so he went to get me some laudanum. The new apothecary at Stradbroke village, Mr. Evans, prepares laudanum as a tincture in brandy, and I find it very strong but I did drink it and felt less distressed. I thanked Andrew for what he had done for us and he said quietly that he hadn't done it for Cathy. He told me he knew it would not be easy to make a match in my first season, to throw myself into so many events that were bound to make me anxious, but I needed to do so. Even if he tied up the money, our family's standing has fallen and could fall still further. I could not help but think that I had already met the man I wanted to marry and I wanted to ask Andrew if Mr. Darcy had ever said anything about me, but I find this is the one thing I cannot speak to Andrew about. I did finally ask him if he thought it would be a problem if I found someone of the gentry, so long as he was from a good family and had sufficient income. He said that was more aligned with my dowry, and if mama or papa had a problem with it, he'd help fight my corner. I think maybe by the look on his countenance that he knew I was thinking of a particular man from the gentry."

There were nearly two months' worth of entries in fretful anticipation of the coming season, interspersed with a happier excitement to see Mr. Darcy again. Then, finally, Lady Anne wrote of trunks being packed, of a set date for their departure, and then:

"February 24, 1779

"Grandmother looks much as she always has. Thank goodness for her jointure and her life interest in Massingham House, for without them I do not know that we could afford a London season at all. She promised she would see to a new court dress and a few other dresses for me. Cathy complained that she ought to have new dresses, too, but grandmother is one of the few people who won't suffer Cathy's dramatics, and she told her she'd had plenty of new dresses her first and second seasons and it was my turn and if Cathy didn't like it she could go back to Stradbroke. Cathy got so angry – we could all see it – but she knows grandmother means what she says and if she complained grandmother would have ordered Andrew to take her back to Norfolk.

"March 1, 1779

"Grandmother took me in for another fitting for my court dress, and to order my other dresses. Mama told me I shouldn't get a gown with a polonaise back as it was a waste of fabric, but I really wanted one, and grandmother said if that was what I wanted and I would feel more confident in it, then that's what I should get, and since she was paying mama couldn't complain. So one of my dresses is to have a polonaise back in a very pretty silk. Indeed all of them are of pretty silk – grandmother knows the best warehouses for getting fine silk at a reasonable price.

"When we were in the carriage back to her house, tho, she made me sad. She said I was such a pretty, sweet, and complying girl that had I the 30,000 pounds I was supposed to, I could have had any man I chose that season. She said she wished she could do more for us, but there would be no more jointure after she died, and she thought the best thing she could do was spend what she has now to give us a good season, and that I ought to choose the man I liked best, rather than the one who was the best match, for she had chosen the best match for mama and condemned her to such a life. If nothing else, she wished she and the duke had ensured all of the Brandon property was entailed, so at least the estate would pass intact, for there was no certainty of that at present for poor Andrew. It made me worry for him – he is meeting with solicitors to tie up Cathy's and my portions in trust, but there is no certainty for him. It is very possible he will be a penniless earl, or still worse, one who inherits insurmountable debts. When I think of his situation I am angriest at papa, for selfishly ruining what should have been the work of generations, passed down to his son. I know our family has made political missteps in the past that have set us back, but at least those were an attempt to gain power. There was never any power to be gained at the Pharo table."

"March 6, 1779

"My court dress arrived yesterday and after I tried it on and grandmother was sure it fit well, she sent notes around to some of her friends to call on us and see me in it. I saw little purpose in it, but she says their approval will help me, even if none of them have sons or grandsons of marriageable age. If we are lucky, she said, I would be written up in the papers even before my Drawing-Room.

"Grandmother insisted I wear slightly larger panniers than are truly fashionable these days for court, because she says my figure is so slight we don't want anyone thinking I cannot bear children. Even so, when I came down to see her friends, they all agreed I was a pretty little thing and it was a very fine dress, that pale pink silk was just the thing for a young creature like me. One of them said I wouldn't last long on the marriage mart and another complimented my manners when I poured the tea. I could tell it was making Cathy very angry to have such attentions on me, but she did not say anything.

"March 9, 1779

"This has been a very nice day. Mama arrived and said papa had promised her yet again that he will stay at Stradbroke and live quietly. We are to say he is unwell and mama will go back to nursing him after my presentation at Court. My polonaise dress also arrived and I tried it on and it looked so pretty! It is a yellow silk with flowers embroidered on and grandmother said I looked lovely in it. Mama didn't say anything about the dress at all and Cathy said it made me look like a shepherdess but I think she was just jealous.

"And Lady Ettington sent round her diamonds with a note that said she was very impressed with my deportment at my dress viewing and thought they might go very well with my Court dress if I would like to consider wearing them at my presentation. I certainly will wear them! They're so beautiful and grandmother says it will be good to be seen in them as Lady Ettington is a great favourite at Court and would not loan her diamonds out to just any deb. I have been worried about jewellery. Most of grandmother's went to her nephew after grandfather's death and they have distanced themselves from us since papa's troubles became known to them – I think they fear being asked to rescue us. But grandmother does have some pieces of her own that she says I may wear and we have not yet parted with the more famous of the Fitzwilliam pieces, so I hope I shall have jewellery enough for a lady of my station.

"Mama had not seen the write-up on my Court dress in the gossip pages while she had been travelling, so grandmother took out the paper and read it to her. I think I can remember all of it so I shall copy it out here so I can recollect it later: 'Lady A. F., youngest daughter of the E. of B., displayed her Court dress yesterday to select company including the M. of E., V. of H., and C. of J., at the home of the Dow. D. of M. Reports are that both girl and dress are very pretty and she will make her curtsey soon.'

"March 10, 1779

"My presentation is tomorrow. I was feeling nervous but grandmother made me feel better by telling me I didn't have to speak much – she or mama could speak for me if I was feeling tongue-tied. And she had me practise my curtsey again and again until I was feeling more confident about making it the right depth for the Queen, for it is her Drawing-Room we are to attend. It will only be grandmother, mama and Andrew to attend tomorrow – grandmother said Cathy was not necessary and would not go. I think she knows that Cathy would try to claim the Queen's attention if she attended with us and tomorrow is to be about my introduction to society.

"I am less nervous, but I will still be very happy when it is over."

"March 11, 1779

"Well, my presentation is done and it was as if I was never there. I suppose that was better than making some blunder that would embarrass me in front of the Queen and her courtiers but I might as well have not been there at all, so far as everyone was concerned.

"Things began as I had expected, based on what grandmother had told me. We awaited our turn and then grandmother and then mama were announced, and finally me. I felt very pretty in my dress and Lady Ettington's diamonds and I even overheard someone say that I was indeed very pretty as we went in. I made my first curtsey and we approached Queen Charlotte, then I made my second. She spoke to grandmother for a little while and only asked me one question, whether I was anticipating my first season. I said that I was but my voice wavered, I was so nervous to speak to her. I think she understood, tho, because she said she hoped she would see me at her Birthday Ball. Grandmother said we would certainly be there and then she indicated we should back away and make our final curtsey. She put her hand on my shoulder when we were back in the antechamber and said I had done well.

"Then there was this stirring in the antechamber and the most exquisite young lady I have ever seen came in alongside an older gentleman. She was so elegant and I am sure her dress cost three times what mine did, for it was a beautiful blue silk with gold lace and gold beading and she was wearing sapphires the colour of the dress set amongst diamonds. Her carriage was so confident and elegant, although I suppose anyone should feel confident in such a dress and such jewels. Everyone stopped to watch her as she glided across the antechamber, our party included. Grandmother murmured that they were not familiar to her, and as she knows almost everyone in town that made the young lady even more mysterious.

"Then they were announced as the Marquess of Lynton and Lady Ellen Montfort and grandmother nodded her head and said of course – Lord Lynton had aged so much since the death of his wife she hardly recognised him. He had been in Cornwall, in mourning, for some years. He must have decided this was the year to come out of mourning and bring his only daughter out into society. There was something dejected in her tone as she spoke and I understood what she meant: no one else could shine beside such an ornament, still less Lady Anne Fitzwilliam with only 10,000 pounds.

"It got worse, tho. Grandmother spoke with some of her acquaintances before we left and shared what she had learned during dinner at her house. It was supposed to be a celebratory dinner but we felt much less celebratory than we should have. She shared that as Lord Lynton had no sons and did not favour the cousin who was to inherit the Marquessate, he had decided to leave all of his fortune that was not entailed to his daughter. I shall never forget her tone as she said, 'Lady Ellen Montfort is said to be worth 200,000 pounds.' We all sat there in shock for some moments until Cathy sniffed and said, 'If they're from Cornwall, it's probably tin money, or copper.' Andrew said he wouldn't complain if someone gave him 200,000 pounds of tin money. Mama said he ought to pursue her and Andrew said he wouldn't play a game he had no chance of winning. Mama said he had seemed as enthralled by Lady Ellen as anyone and 200,000 pounds would solve all of our problems and Andrew said not to press him as he had no interest in seeing papa gamble away a beautiful young woman's fortune – nor, it was likely, did the lady herself – and he did not intend to spend his time in futile pursuits. After that, we dined quietly. I do not think any of us was very happy."

Had she been reading a novel, Elizabeth would have said that Lady Anne's primary adversary had just made her appearance, for Lady Catherine, as irritating as she had been even then, Elizabeth could not consider to be such a character. Yet as Lady Ellen was a beloved aunt-in-law, and had ended up marrying Anne's brother, Elizabeth felt still greater curiosity as to how such events had come about. She was just reading the date of the next entry – March 12 – when a remote thumping could be heard, and then,

"Ma'am, are ye in here? Master Charles has need of ye." It was Martha – Browning, now, Elizabeth reminded herself. Hastily and with a goodly measure of guilt, she set the journal down and rushed back into her bedchamber, attempting to close the door behind her as best she could without benefit of a ribbon. She ran to the bedroom door and opened it, saying, "I'm so sorry, Browning. I was distracted – quite lost in what I was reading – so very interesting – I shall take him in here."

Browning nodded and handed Charles – already reaching out for his mother's breasts – over to her. "D'ye want dinner, ma'am? It's – well, it's past time, and everybody was wonderin'."

"I'll have a tray here in half-an-hour, if I may," said Elizabeth guiltily. The Darcys had agreed that Miss Fischer should be invited to dine with them a few times each week, and she had intended to invite the governess to dinner that evening. It was far too late for that, now, so instead they would both dine alone.

"Of course, ma'am. I'll let 'em know."

Elizabeth endeavoured to keep Browning talking as the undernurse helped with her dress and stays, so the young woman would not notice the opened panel within the room. After Browning had left and Charles had drank his fill, Elizabeth laid him down on the carpet and ran into her dressing room to find a small, thin ribbon, managing finally after a couple of attempts to hook it around the nail and tie it tight, so that the panel could be shut thoroughly. Eventually at least some of the staff would need to be told of the existence of the room, but for now it was a secret still too new to be shared beyond those two Elizabeth was certain knew of it: the prior and current mistresses of Pemberley.

Charles was returned to the nursery and the tray deposited within Elizabeth's bedchamber by Parker himself, whom Elizabeth suspected as having been nominated by the senior staff to check on what had been admittedly strange behaviour by her that evening, for she hardly ever spent any time in this room. Once Parker had left, though, Elizabeth's mind quickly ranged back to 1779, and before she so much as touched a thing from the tray, she had gone back into the secret room to retrieve the journal she had been reading.

"March 12, 1779

"O, but today was a much happier day! In the morning, what should be delivered but a square Broadwood pianoforte! Grandmother was not willing to remove her harpsichord (it is a very beautiful instrument) but she said she could surely make a little room in her drawing-room for this. It is on lease from Broadwood's so if I find I do not like it there will be little harm in it. I overheard mama telling her she indulged me too much but grandmother said I needed confidence and she would do everything to aid me in that within her capacity. I started practicing on my new instrument right away. It is strange to get a feel of, because depending on how hard you press the keys, the sound is different. I think I was getting better after I played for a while, tho.

"Grandmother also ordered some new music for me, and I was working my way through Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 8 in A Minor when I heard voices in the drawing-room. I turned around and saw it was Andrew and Mr. Darcy! He looked even handsomer than I had remembered and when he apologised for interrupting me, he did it in such a graceful manner. I said I did not mind and I was very glad to see him again. He came over to take my hand and lead me from the bench, and yet again the feel of his hand and his gaze upon mine made me feel a little dizzy.

"Grandmother and mama came in and Andrew introduced Mr. Darcy to grandmother. I was worried she wouldn't approve of him because of his rank, but he was very nicely dressed in a blue wool coat and cream-coloured breeches and I knew she liked him when she rang for tea and cakes because grandmother will not serve refreshments to anyone she does not think worthy of her time.

"His family took up the lease on a house in Curzon Street a few years ago and they will be staying there. It is a very convenient distance to the park and he said he hoped he would see us there frequently, and at the Pantheon and Almack's Assembly Rooms and the pleasure gardens. Andrew said that he would – although grandmother says she is too old to be attending such events every night, Andrew has promised to squire us to whatever we wish to attend.

"March 16, 1779

"My first ball was all I would have hoped for. All I really wanted was to dance with Mr. Darcy, and that I did. But must not get too far ahead of myself for there is more I want to recall about the night. I was amazed by the spaces of the Pantheon, of the great high ceilings and detail in the plasterwork, so much so that when Cathy told me to stop gawping before I embarrassed all of us, I obeyed, for I thought she was right for once. It was very crowded, and I was worried at first that without grandmother we wouldn't know a very wide acquaintance, but I soon learned that Andrew was actually the best sort of escort for such an evening, for although he is quiet, he still managed to amass quite an acquaintance at university, and his old schoolfellows are of just the right age to wish to dance with his sisters. He saw Mr. Darcy even before I did and took us over to greet him, and when we arrived it seemed Mr. Darcy was standing with someone else known to Andrew, who was introduced as Lord Hildenborough (Andrew told us later he is heir to the title of Viscount Tonbridge). Lord Hildenborough asked if we had met her yet and he didn't have to say who he meant – we all knew, even before he glanced over at where Lady Ellen Montfort stood with an older woman and what appeared a cadre of admirers.

"I was wearing my new polonaise dress and had been feeling proud of it but I was shocked to see she wore a simple robe a l'anglaise with the barest of hoops. The fabric was striped, and this served to accentuate both her figure and her bearing. It made me feel much less enamoured of my own dress, and I hated her in that moment for it, even as I knew that was unfair.

"Lord Hildenborough led us over to her and waited until she nodded to him that he should introduce us. She acknowledged the introduction so neatly that I could not but wish I could ever be half so elegant as her. Her every movement is like the water of a stream, flowing exactly where it should. I could tell Cathy was looking at her trying to find something to criticise, but even Cathy could not find anything with such a lady and thank goodness she didn't say anything other than she was pleased to make Lady Ellen's acquaintance. Then the gentlemen all proceeded to ask the ladies for dances. I was jealous to find Lady Ellen was already filling her sixth, seventh, and eighth dances – I was promised only for the first set to Andrew – but then Mr. Darcy asked me for the second and I didn't much care who else danced with who after that except to notice poor Andrew asked Lady Ellen for a dance because it seemed to be expected of him. I was glad at least that mama and grandmother were not there so he would feel no pressure to pay court to her for her fortune.

"I was so nervous when my dance with Mr. Darcy came around, but once we started and began to speak I felt much more comfortable. I do not know what it is about him, but he makes me feel as tho everyone else does not matter – society does not matter, all those people in the Pantheon watching us did not matter, almost as tho they did not exist. We spoke of how I was getting on with my new pianoforte and how his journey down from Derbyshire had been and so many other things. He was so solicitous after the dance had ended, taking me to the refreshments table and giving me a lemonade when I said it was my preference. It felt so right to take his hand to walk back to Andrew – I think if he had proposed I take his hand to walk back to Derbyshire instead I would have done so gladly.

"I partnered with Lord Hildenborough for the next, and tho my dances did not fill so quickly as those of Lady Ellen Montfort, they did at least fill. The same could not be said for Cathy, and after she had to sit out the quadrille I saw Sir Lewis de Bourgh approach her. I was glad she accepted him, although I think it was more to ensure she had no further lack of consequence by sitting out another dance. Poor Sir Lewis.

"My feet hurt so badly by the end of the night but I was happy it had gone so well. And at the end of the dancing, Mr. Courtenay, who was my last partner, escorted me over to Andrew, who was speaking to Lady Ellen Montfort, who had been his last partner. Lady Ellen said she liked my dress very much and she thought the fabric was just perfect for a polonaise. I was so surprised but I still managed to compliment her on her own dress and she seemed very kind in acknowledging my compliments. I could not hate her so much after that, although I am not sure I shall ever be able to like her."

Elizabeth recalled well her own first ball – an assembly in Meryton she expected had been more mixed in attendance and therefore more raucous than a ball at the Pantheon in those days – and the feeling of nervous excitement that had attended it, the satisfying ache of her feet that had followed. How much more would that feeling have been heightened if she had anticipated the joy of dancing with a suitor she looked to with such affection? Elizabeth could not tell. In truth, she had never known such feelings – ones she had witnessed in Jane, Kitty, Georgiana, and even Mary. She had, of course, danced once with the man she now loved with all her heart, but her horrid thoughts at that time had been filled with contempt. She could look back now and understand a certain frisson between the two of them, could understand that her feelings, even when misguided, had always been strong. This happy, stomach-churning anticipation of these other romances, however, was not something she would ever know.

Knowing her husband as a wife did for so many years, she could readily recognise how very like his mother he was, and she wondered how he must have felt, in asking for her hand at the Netherfield ball. In being able to read of Lady Anne's thoughts and worries in this fashion, Elizabeth had found herself immediately sympathising with the young lady, a sympathy that had been much harder earned by Lady Anne's son. How different might things have been, Elizabeth wondered, if she could have understood him so well from the very beginning? Such a question could have no firm answer, and she read on.

"March 25, 1779

"Lady Ellen was not at Almack's Assembly Rooms last night. Her absence prompted quite a lot of disappointment from all of the gentlemen present, although the Duke of Rougham was the only one who openly sulked. I think he is as smitten with her as Sir Lewis is with Cathy. For the rest of the ladies, her absence meant the rest of us were more interesting than we might have been. I wish that might have been better for me, but I have not met any men who interest me more than Mr. Darcy, and while I was dancing with Lord Hildenborough I overheard something very distressing. Mr. Courtenay and Lord Bolsover were speaking and it became clear they were talking about asking me to dance for Mr. Courtenay exclaimed, 'Lady Silence? She may be pretty but I'd like some manner of conversation from my partner when dancing, as well as in life.' He looked right at me and I was mortified. I know that I am not very inclined to speak much with most young men, and perhaps this is why I have not had so many inclined to dance with me at every assembly. Mr. Darcy has done so, else I would have been far more upset long before now, but I cannot know whether he does so because he truly has some interest in me or because he feels obliged to dance with his friend's sister. Still, I was glad I was dancing the next with him, for he sensed I was upset and asked what the matter was. I think if a little time had passed I would have kept it to myself, but I could not but share it with him. He said he had heard that sobriquet a few times for me and had always spoken against it, for he always enjoyed conversing with me. I felt much better after that and we spoke throughout our time together, so I hope Mr. Courtenay saw."

Elizabeth was required to set the journal aside, for a time, to wipe at the tears in her eyes and further feel her own guilt. "I am so sorry, my love," she whispered. "Would that I could have understood you so well as your father did her, from the very beginning."

"I mentioned it to grandmother this morning and she was also reassuring, although in a very different way than Mr. Darcy. She said let them call me Lady Silence, for it was better than some of these other young debs who liked to rattle on without saying anything of import. There were plenty of men out there who would like a quiet, pretty, complacent wife, she said. She looked at Cathy when she said it and I understood what she meant. Cathy did not, of course."

It was as Elizabeth was contemplating what the previous Mr. Darcy had apparently looked for in a wife – certainly not what his son had desired – that there was another knock at the door. It was Henry, the footman, asking if she wished for light in the room. It was twilight, Elizabeth realised.

"Just the sconces on the wall, please," she said, "and please bring the oil lamp in from the sitting room. Oh – and I would like a chamberstick. There is something I wish to look at in the gallery."

"Of course, ma'am." Henry saw to the chamberstick first, asked if she wished for additional candles to be lit within the gallery – she did not – and was seeing to the sconces when Elizabeth took up her chamberstick and left the room.

She walked to the gallery, the light from her candle bouncing against the walls, and stopped at the portrait of the previous generation of Darcys. It was by Gainsborough, painted late in his life, and showed Mr. and Lady Anne Darcy within what Elizabeth presumed to be Pemberley Woods. Mr. Darcy stood beside his wife, who was wearing one of the chemise dresses of the time and seated – holding her son, who could not have been more than two years old – within her arms. Elizabeth had always focused her attention upon the little boy, amused by the solemn expression upon his face, but now she held her candle closer to his mother. Lady Anne's countenance was even more enigmatic than that of her son – there was perhaps a faint hint of pleasure, of contentedness, but mostly there was reserve.

Elizabeth now saw better echoes of that reserve, when she stepped over to put her candle before the portrait of her husband. She gazed up at him and thought about Lady Anne's grandmother stating that men would like a "quiet, pretty, complacent wife," and laughed softly. "You did not want that, did you?" she whispered. "You knew what you wanted and not even a spiteful refusal was enough to stop you, thank God. I am so glad you are happy, that you got what you wanted. I am sure life would have been much more peaceful for you, had you chosen a complacent wife."

She gazed at him for some time longer, but realised how strange she must have seemed – although no one should have been in this part of the house to observe her – to be speaking to her husband's portrait when he had only left for the quarter sessions that morning. With a last glimpse over his countenance, she turned to go back to her bedchamber.

Henry had left the oil lamp burning on the nightstand, and once Sarah had come to change her mistress – finding Mrs. Darcy much shorter of patience than usual, and dismissive over Sarah's concerns as to how her dress could have gotten so dusty – Elizabeth clambered up into the bed and kicked the brocade out of her way, curling up on her side to read:

"March 30, 1779

"Lady Ellen was at the Pantheon last night, and I hardly know how it came about, but one moment we were speaking of how the weather is improving and the next we were forming an expedition to Ranelagh. It is to be a far more intimate party than I ever expected to form with Lady Ellen – it is to be her, her companion Mrs. Rowe, Lord Hildenborough, Mr. Darcy, Andrew, myself, and Cathy.

"I need not write again that I anticipate it because Mr. Darcy is to form part of the party. We danced again and it was every bit as wonderful as it always is. But I am anticipating simply going to Ranelagh. Grandmother took me some years ago just so I could see the gardens and enjoy the music, but as I was not yet out in society, it was a different experience than I think it will be to go with a party of young people.

"At the end of the evening, Mr. Darcy also asked Andrew if he thought it would be acceptable for his parents to invite us all to dine, including grandmother. Andrew said he thought we would all be happy to accept such an invitation, and Mr. Darcy said his mother would call on us to issue it.

"March 31, 1779

"Mrs. Darcy called on us this morning, and we decided next Tuesday would suit us all to dine. She is just a little taller than me, for having such a tall son, and I found her manners to be very kindly, particularly towards me, asking about my playing of the harpsichord and the pianoforte. She said she had heard from her son that I played beautifully and hoped I would oblige her by playing after dinner. I can only presume Mr. Darcy – or I suppose I should write Mr. George Darcy, as Mr. Darcy to her is her husband – told her I am the most shy of my family and to ensure my comfort. We are still too new in our acquaintance for me to hope for anything else."

"April 7, 1779

"Dinner was so lovely, I am so happy! The Darcys live in a terrace house, so it is not so big as grandmother's house, but I found it a fine enough size. Mrs. Darcy was very warm towards me but she did seem a bit nervous, I think because of having grandmother in her drawing-room. Mr. Darcy the father seems much sterner than his son. I will not say he was unkind, merely very formal and serious. He seemed very firm in his opinions, although I suppose I can find no fault in that given he did not seem to be incorrect in any of them. He has a brother who is a judge and a widower so it was just the 8 of us to dine. As everyone else was of higher rank than Mr. George Darcy and I, I got to go in with him, and we sat beside each other and conversed for much of the night – his mother was beside him and sometimes she spoke to me as well. When the ladies went through, it was Mrs. Darcy and grandmother who managed the conversation. Cathy hardly spoke at all – she was sulking because she thinks the Darcys beneath us. The gentlemen came through after very little time – Mrs. Darcy poured out the tea and then asked if I would favour them with a song on the pianoforte. The Darcys have only a pianoforte – I do not know whether there was once a harpsichord and it had been replaced, or if no one in the family was musical enough for the older instrument. But their pianoforte is a very pretty Broadwood."

"I played the Mozart and I was very nervous because I am still so new to it and to the instrument, but when I was done everyone applauded, even Cathy! Mr. Darcy even said he was impressed by my talent and dedication to practise. Mr. George Darcy came over to take my hand to lead me away from the instrument and he murmured that this was very high praise from his father, who was never one to exaggerate. For himself he was very impressed that I had adjusted to the pianoforte so quickly. Then he escorted me over to an open sofa where we might sit together, and went to bring me another cup of tea."

"Can it be any wonder that I am so happy after such a night? I still do not have any notion of Mr. George Darcy's feelings towards me, but if things do move towards a match between us, I know that I have made a favourable impression on his parents.

"April 13, 1779

"I was not sure what would come of our expedition to Ranelagh, but overall I enjoyed forming part of such a party. The only person among us who was more than thirty years of age was Mrs. Rowe and she hardly spoke at all unless Lady Ellen addressed her.

"I wore my green silk dress and as Lady Ellen was also dressed a'l'anglaise I felt very comfortable in my choice. Cathy was dressed a'l'nglaise as well but with that garish embroidery she insists becomes her. We went to the Rotunda first and I adored the decoration and the detail but then I made myself stop gawping before Cathy told me to do so. We got a box, to dine, if cold chicken and ham with weak tea can be called dining. I had been wanting to stay until the musicians began their concert, but once the food was gone everyone began speaking of going to see the Chinese House and then they were leaving the box. Mr. Darcy was waiting for me as I came out of the box and he asked if I had wanted to stay for the concert and I said that I had rather done so but I did not mind going to see the Chinese House instead. He said he thought so and wished he had spoken on my behalf. This was very embarrassing to me that he felt I could not speak for myself although some part of me was pleased that he thought of me. I experienced some moments of bitterness and almost said that Lady Silence ought to learn to speak for herself. I am glad I – perhaps true to my sobriquet – stayed silent and just took his hand so we could follow the others. He said he was sure there would be other opportunities this season for me to listen to music I did not have to make myself and in all likelihood they would be better opportunities than those offered by Ranelagh this evening, for he thought the days of Mozart performing here were past. So we followed after the others to the Chinese House. Lord Hildenborough had taken Cathy's hand and Andrew Lady Ellen's, and her companion followed after all of us to act as chaperone. There was much to look at in the Chinese House and by the time we came out the fireworks had begun, so we went to watch. They were beautiful and I enjoyed them very much. Our group had rearranged ourselves by this time so I was beside Lord Hildenborough, and Andrew with Cathy and Mr. Darcy with Lady Ellen. I find Lord Hildenborough to be pleasant company and he seemed to be enjoying the fireworks as well so I didn't mind too much. Although I could never say I enjoy his company as much as Mr. Darcy's, I find I enjoy it much more than any of the other men I have met this season."

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, well aware that she should not read any more that night, and yet exceedingly tempted to do so. There was something she adored about Lady Anne's sweet, simple and yet very deep affections – they made her wish she could travel back through time and give the poor young lady a hug and say it would all turn out well in the end. That was the strange crux of it – Elizabeth knew that it would all come out, but she did not know how, and she had come to understand that would be the most important part of this love-story. Even that it was a love-story was a bit of a surprise. Darcy and Georgiana always spoke of their parents as honourable people, responsible people, good people, but Elizabeth had presumed – quite wrongly, as it turned out – that even if their marriage had not been arranged, it had not been based on deep, romantic love. No-one of their generation had married for love, Lady Catherine had once claimed. Elizabeth had believed her at the time, but now saw Cathy according to her own suspicions and Lady Anne's observations: she was a woman who stated the world was as she saw it, and put blinders on when it came to anything that did not agree with her own interpretations. Lady Anne was such a delightfully different person from her sister, and it was clear the young lady's heart had raced any time George Darcy was near. The thing that was missing from the love-story, Elizabeth realised, was confirmation that Anne's Mr. Darcy returned her affections.

"If you marry her and do not love her, I swear I will – " Elizabeth's diatribe dropped off, for there was little recourse she could have against a man who had been dead for a dozen years. She was about to continue on to the next entry, but crying from her dressing-room next door informed her that Charles had need of her, and she had risen from the bed and was approaching the connecting door to that chamber when Browning knocked, entered, and held out the boy to her.

Elizabeth took him up into the bed with her, and somewhat guiltily endeavoured to fit in another entry as her son nursed.

"April 20, 1779

"Lady Ellen was absent from the Pantheon last night, as were some other of the more important members of society. There was said to be a private party given by the Earl of Whitehaven, which we were not invited to. He is too young to consider grandmother an important connexion, but not so young as to be an acquaintance of Andrew's.

"Of course everyone noticed Lady Ellen's absence. Only Andrew and I noticed Mr. Darcy was also absent. I am glad Cathy did not notice, for I am sure she would have had much to say about how a commoner could be invited to such an event while we were not. But for myself I could only recall that Mr. Darcy and Lady Ellen had been walking together while we were at Ranelagh. I had thought nothing of it at the time for like everyone I had presumed she would marry very high – she could have any current or future duke she wants, I am sure. Yet Lady Ellen's situation is without precedent already – her fortune would be sufficient to buy a title for a gentleman who wished for it, particularly one who already came from an old and respected family. Perhaps this is why Lady Ellen wished to form part of such a small party at Ranelagh. Without being able to see them myself at Lord Whitehaven's fete I cannot know with any certainty, but then again if they are carrying on a flirtation I think I would rather not be required to watch."