"What color coat was Lizzy wearing?"
"It was light blue. It had colorful birds embroidered on the collar." His hands came up, motioning along his neck. Before he could be asked, he revealed more. "She was wearing a bonnet with a ribbon of the same color as her coat, also embroidered with birds. My mother did the embroidery on both items."
Mr. Bennet opened the box that had been brought to him earlier that morning. He gently removed a child's coat and bonnet. They were a little worn but still in fair condition. When Elizabeth outgrew them, they were packed away, waiting for an interview such as this.
"Her dress?"
"White, of course, with little lacy…things." Mr. Bennet chuckled as he took the dress out of the box, for that is exactly how he would have described it himself. "Mr. Bennet, might it be easier if I just tell you what she had with her?"
"Very well, go on."
"She had a small woolen blanket. It was yellow with little flowers on one corner. Though, I could not tell you what kind they were."
"Tulips, I think." Elizabeth said as she pulled the blanket from the bag that held her keepsakes.
Hurst reached out to lift the flowered corner of the threadbare blanket for closer inspection. He ran his thumb over the alleged tulips. "So they are. This was Tessa's handiwork. She was nine, maybe, when she did it. Our sister does not have a patience for embroidery, so she stopped after one corner. You carried this everywhere."
Elizabeth was not sure how to react to 'our sister'. It felt premature yet inevitable all the same. She did not say anything, just carefully folded the blanket and placed it back in the bag.
"You also carried a reticule. It had once been my grandmother's. It made you feel very grown up, even though most of the time you just dragged it along behind you. It was green. You loved anything colorful."
"I still do." She unwrapped an emerald green reticule and showed it to Hurst. He nodded, recognizing it.
"Now, I do not know everything it contained that day. It depended on what struck your fancy. There might be pebbles or sticks, perhaps a biscuit or a sweet, usually a ribbon or two. There are a few things that I know you had. I did a trick I had just learned with a coin and gave it to you to keep." Elizabeth laid a coin on the desk before her.
"I do know you had two other things with you which are related. You need to know you had a kitten you adored. Adored. He was an orange tabby. You would get upset when you could not take him with you everywhere like your blanket. Mother made a soft toy from fabric for you. It was really a pillow, shaped like a cat." As he was saying this, Elizabeth removed the toy cat from the confines of the bag. She ran a loving hand across it, as if stroking a real cat. "You would not leave it, even tried to put it in your reticule. You only gave in when Father told you Dogberry wanted you to take his friend with you so he could watch over you when you were away from home."
For the first time in what seemed like years, Mr. Bennet laughed. "Of course, you would have a cat named Dogberry, Lizzy. Being so young, I imagine you did not name him, but it would be just like you."
"Warwickshire is the county of Shakespeare. My father names his horses and dogs after Shakespearean characters. Dogberry could not escape the same fate." Hurst tilted his head, looking at Elizabeth, as a thought occurred to him. "I have a feeling your humor will prove to be much like Father's." He did not linger on these more personal reflections. Elizabeth was not ready for it. "The other related item is a hand drawn picture book, more like a small pamphlet. It is a really just scenes a girl and a kitten."
Of all the other items, the little book was Elizabeth's most prized possession. She was, obviously, the model for the girl. The likeness was quite good. The kitten was also well drawn. She imagined it was a faithful representation of Dogberry. Her favorite scene was of the little girl asleep, sitting up in a big cozy chair. The cat was curled up beside the girl, his head resting on her little leg. Elizabeth had always felt the affection coming off the page. Somebody had obviously loved her a great deal to take so much time and care to craft this treasure for her.
She carefully removed the book from its protection. Her father had modified one of his own books by removing its pages and fashioning a pocket in the void, to create a makeshift cover that she could tuck her beloved book into without damaging it.
Hurst looked at the fragile, well-read paper. His hand was shaking so badly he did not want to risk harming the item. "I drew this for you. We would look at it together and I would make up stories about each scene. You would not let anyone else do so. And you had only just started to make up stories for me. I am assuming you noticed there was a 'Zibby' hidden in each drawing. You do that on your own drawings."
"Yes, though, when I did it, it seemed rather fanciful. I felt it somehow helped keep the connection with that part of my life alive. I thought it my true family name. Using it was an acknowledgement that it remained part of me though I had assumed the name Bennet."
"Zibby was our nickname for you. My parents called you Libby and my sister and I called you Lizzy. When you started to talk, you would try to say them at the same time and it came out as Zibby. It suited you. If anybody would call you Elizabeth, you would very definitely make known your preference for Zibby, as Mr. Bennet learned."
"Zibby. Zibby." Elizabeth repeated quietly, as if trying it out for the first time. Did she feel like a Zibby?
"Mr. Bennet is there anything else in the box? Or have you any other questions?
"I believe the proof you offer is very conclusive. However, there are a few more things you should see." He reached in and pulled out several newspaper pages. They were each folded to reveal a notice about a lost girl, seeking information about her family, offering details and clues as to help identify her.
"We published the notice every other Sunday, for a year. We place them in the main London papers and several regional papers. My brother Gardiner helped with them. However, as you see, all of the information we provided was not accurate and we kept some back in order to prove the relationship."
"'The estate of Burr Hill or Burrell'? Is that where you thought she lived?" Hurst mouthed the words, trying to remember how Elizabeth said the words so long ago - Raber Hill, Burr Hill, Burrell. He could understand the mistake,
"It was. We even found a Burr Hill estate in Kent. We were quite excited, but it did not yield any results. We did not find any family named Zibby but we did find a Sibby or two."
"You, obviously, did not keep her origins secret."
"We did not tell all and sundry, but we informed the people we trusted. It is just rarely talked about now. The neighborhood accepted Lizzy as one of their own, much as we did. Many in Meryton are quite aware of it. We simply did not know where we might achieve success, so it served no purpose to hide it. For instance, Sir William Lucas is enamored of his visits to St. James's. He goes but rarely. However, when he goes, he listens for anything of note that might relate to Lizzy's origins. It is the same with my brother in London."
"How did my family miss all this? The notices, what happen at Wymondham, everything. Did you not see any of the notices my father placed? I am sure he placed them. I believe he even engaged the Bow Street Runners."
"We did not. Son, your family was dealing with a devasting loss. People do not always think clearly, see clearly, in their grief. Things get missed. Some actions are repeated ten-fold while others are not enacted even once. Meanwhile, our circumstances were much different. We did not have to deal with the urgency or worry or heartbreak. We had the privilege of adding a lovely little girl to our family. She was a blessing. And we vowed to love and provide for her as her own family would for as long as she was with us. But after a year of many false leads and disappointments, we stopped the advertisements. We still place a notice each year, on anniversary of the day we found her."
Hurst looked at the folded page on the top of the stack. It was dated last year. These and the other remaining items were neatly repacked and set aside.
How could they not find her given all the Bennets had done? What must Elizabeth think?
"Elizabeth, I hope I may have leave to call you Elizabeth, do you have any questions for me?"
"I do not think I can take in even one more piece of information. I just cannot. There are too many questions and not enough answers. At the moment, what I need is time alone to think and, if I am honest, to cry, a long walk, and a cup of chocolate."
"I feel much the same, Lizzy. You have been remarkably poised throughout all today's revelations. I will make sure you have your time alone, your quiet, your walk, and your chocolate. You certainly deserve it." Mr. Bennet came from behind his desk and hugged her tightly. "I am very proud of you."
"I would like to offer a suggestion." Darcy looked toward Mr. Bennet with a raised eyebrow.
"Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Go ahead, Mr. Darcy. You have displayed admirable restraint. I free you from your vow of silence."
"Allow Miss Elizabeth to determine the pace as you move forward. There will need to be more discussion and many decisions need to be made. Everything does not have to be done immediately. As excited as the Hurst family will be to learn of her discovery, this will be an overwhelming and emotional time."
"Darcy, my family needs to know! I cannot keep it from them," Hurst exclaimed.
"Hurst, you misunderstand. By all means, notify your family. Bring them to Netherfield or, perhaps, London would be better. If I remember correctly, your parents find Miss Bingley's company…challenging. Just leave it to Miss Elizabeth as to when and where to meet, when to remove from Longbourn, and so on. It is her life that will be the most upended. Though the Bennets and Hursts alike will want best for Elizabeth, it would be very easy to lose sight of her desires under the weight of good intentions." Darcy looked at Elizabeth, hoping he had not overstepped with this advice.
"Mr. Darcy, I thank you for your thoughtful consideration to my predicament. However, Mr. Hurst, oh, should I call you David?"
Hurst's smile showed a hint of delight. "I would love for you to call me David or you are welcome to call me brother. However, you need not feel you must do so until you are ready."
"Taking Mr. Darcy's advice already, Mr. Hurst?" Elizabeth asked, with a smile of her own. "That's probably for the best. From what you related about my early childhood, it is safe to say I was a forceful and stubborn child. You should know, I did not outgrow it and I am much more articulate now."