The was a knock at the study door and Mr. Bennet called for Elizabeth to enter. She saw Mr. Darcy and wondered why he was here. It could not be anything to do with her family, after all. The retrieval of her childhood items must be unrelated to the gentleman's visit. Gentlemen. She only just noticed that Mr. Hurst was present, though he too rose as she came into the room.
She noticed her favorite chair, which was normally situated by the fireplace with a view toward the back garden, had been moved to join the others in front of her father. She looked at him expectantly as she sat down, gently placing her bag at her feet.
"Thank you for joining us. You know Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hurst. They have a something of great importance to discuss with us today." He swiped a hand through his grey hair and let out a shuddering breath. "Lizzy, my brave girl, I have always admired your strength. It will serve you well today, I am certain."
"Papa, you are scaring me." Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hurst were both staring at her. She was used to the weight of Mr. Darcy's gaze and it no longer intimidated her. Mr. Hurst's notice was recent, and it still discomposed her. At whose instigation were they here? And why? She could not fathom it.
"Before we begin, I feel compelled to ask if you would like me to excuse myself. I can offer little more than to play the role of detached observer," Darcy said, sensitive to the situation before them.
The men assented to his presence. He then looked to Elizabeth. That he sought her approval pleased her. "Mr. Darcy, you and the other gentlemen have me at a disadvantage. Not knowing the reason behind this meeting, I cannot make a knowledgeable decision. For now, I will trust my father and you are welcome to remain. However, if at any point I decide differently, I ask you to respect my wishes and take your leave."
"That is perfectly acceptable. Thank you."
"Now, I assume you do not wish for me to let my imagination run wild. It is quite capable of conjuring the most sensational of circumstances. Shall you begin?" This was said with a lighthearted tone, but it was obvious to all that Elizabeth harbored a great deal of anxiety.
"Mr. Hurst, I cede the floor to you," offered Mr. Bennet.
Angling himself toward Elizabeth so he could see her face, Hurst began. "Miss Elizabeth. I know we do not know each other but I hope you will hear what I say with an open mind and an open heart. Over the last few days, I have come to believe that you are my sister." Elizabeth gasped and raised a hand to her chest in surprise. "Will you hear my story?"
Speechless, she nodded her head in consent.
"I will start by telling you of my family. I am David Hurst of Raber Hill in Warwickshire. The Hurst family has been on their estate for five generations. My father, Wesley Hurst, is the current master. My mother, Mabel is the former Mabel Lee of Clessondale, also in Warwickshire. My grandparents Lee still live at Clessondale." His recitation was flat, thinking it would be best to remain as unemotional as possible as Elizabeth become more comfortable with the knowledge of her family. He let her absorb this information before he continued.
"I am the eldest of three children. I have two younger sisters. My sister, Tessa, is five years younger than I. She is now Tessa Michaels. She lives with her husband and children in Oxfordshire. My sister, Elizabeth, is twelve years younger than I. She is one and twenty." Once again, he stopped. This was the easy part, so he wanted to make sure she was ready before the telling became more difficult. He prepared a well-sugared cup of tea for her and placed it in her hand.
"During the festive season of 1792, my family was traveling home after visiting relations in Norfolk. One day we stopped at a busy coaching inn in Wymondham. I was riding in the carriage with my parents. We had a second coach with the nurse and governess. My sisters would often switch between the two carriages during a long trip." Everyone nodded. What he described was quite common when traveling with children.
"Even though I was fourteen, I can admit to acting as a spoiled child. I was on holiday from Harrow, and I wanted all my parents' attention. As we made to leave the inn, that is when everything changed." He paused, this time for the sake of his own equilibrium. "I wanted to ride alone with my parents. So Tessa joined her governess in the second carriage. But in the noise and bustle of the inn there was some miscommunication. My mother asked Elizabeth's nurse to take her in the other carriage, as well. However, the nurse thought my mother was telling her she was taking Elizabeth in my parents' carriage. And so, when the carriages left and Elizabeth was in neither one, it went unnoticed. The occupants of each carriage thought she was in the other."
At the first mention of Wymondham and the busy inn, all Mr. Bennet's doubts fell away. He could well envision the scene Hurst described for he had been in that same inn, also during the festive season in 1792, when he went in search of Elizabeth's parents.
"Shall I continue?" Hurst's question was reserved for Elizabeth only. The others in the room were forgotten. Though tears ran down her face, she gestured for him to proceed. Darcy took the teacup out of her hand and offered her his handkerchief. Instead of taking it, she clasped his hand tightly, letting the tears fall.
"The carriage with the children and servants traveled more quickly. The days were short and cold, and my mother did not want the girls to be out longer than necessary. They made it to the next stop as planned, or so we thought, and settled in for the night. Meanwhile, we were in the slower, larger carriage. Once the weather turned, we were not able to catch up to them. We had to spend the night at a different inn.
"The weather delayed us even more. We only caught up with the other carriage late the next evening. It was then we realized Elizabeth was not with us and traced the mix-up back to the inn at Wymondham. It was too late in the day for the carriage to return. My father and our outriders rode back to search for her immediately. They searched the town while we made our way back more slowly, stopping at every inn, asking if anything was known of Elizabeth. We searched the surrounding area for days. We never found a sign of her. There was no great plot afoot, no villains, no abduction, no demands. It was a most violent rent, all the same. Our lives were ruined by simple carelessness."
"Lizzy, how are you?" Her father asked. He could not read her expression. And it frightened him. He noticed her clutching Mr. Darcy's hand that was still holding the handkerchief. Darcy saw the direction of his gaze and made to gently pull his hand away. She would not allow it. Instead, she gasped it more tightly, pulling it closer.
"I am here. I am not going anywhere. Tell me what I can do for you, Elizabeth." Darcy's use of her name seemed to spur her out of the stupor she was in.
"I am well. It is just so much. Once I was of an age to understand, Papa told me how I was found. Everything Mr. Hurst has said coincides with what I was told, at least what is known from our perspective."
"Do we need a break before we hear that perspective?" Darcy asked. "I think it might be wise."
"Lizzy, if you would like to walk in the garden, I would be happy to walk with you," Mr. Bennet offered. It was a offer he seldom made. That he was willing to do so was enough to make her smile.
"No, thank you, Papa. I would like to walk but, perhaps, Mr. Darcy, you would join me?"
"Of course. I am at your service."
Darcy and Elizabeth collected their outerwear and removed to the garden. Elizabeth needed the fresh air and quiet. Darcy's silence was oddly comforting. The man she often found frustrating was now a solid and steady presence beside her.
The remaining occupants of the study watched them, each with obvious sadness on their faces. "We must not take this personally. It is not a statement against us." Mr. Bennet said, to persuade himself as well as Hurst. "As Darcy said, he is a detached observer. He has no part of this."
After letting them walk for a bit more, Mr. Bennet called them back inside. Hurst had told of Elizabeth's loss. It was now his turn to share the story of how she was found.