Chapter One

1831

Bella Wickham's life consisted of squalid chaos punctuated by her father's disappearances and her mother's nerves. She neither expected nor received the slightest notice from anybody except her brother Jack, and even he had little attention to spare for one frail, unobtrusive girl. Thus the news of her impending departure struck her as not merely surprising, but incomprehensible. Try though she might, she could not think of one good reason why the Darcys should have chosen her above all the others.

Bella reached Derby in good time, still utterly perplexed by her circumstances. There she met with a tall, angular woman, about ten years her mother's junior.

'You must be Isabella,' she pronounced. 'I am your aunt, Mrs Clement. Come, there is no time for dawdling, we still have a long way ahead of us.'

Once in the carriage, she went on in a brisk manner that was clearly habitual with her, 'Let me look at you, child. Oh! Well, at least you have the Gardiner eyes. Now, what did your mother explain to you?'

'M-my mother?' Bella stared at her. 'I . . . I did not even know I was to come until Betsey and George and Jack told me.'

Mrs Clement frowned. 'I see. Well, I am sure you understand that you owe a great deal to your aunt and uncle. Though the original idea, I confess, was mine, the expense will be all theirs, and quite considerable. You must not forget to be very grateful.'

Bella shook her head fervently. She was grateful already, for whatever might happen, the peace and quiet which had reigned thus far seemed to her the greatest of luxuries.

Both spent the rest of the journey, from Derby to Pemberley, fast asleep. Mrs Clement woke both herself and her niece shortly after they had passed onto the Pemberley estates.

'D-does my uncle own this all?' Bella asked tremulously.

Mrs Clement laughed. 'Yes, of course, and some other property besides. He is very rich; that is why they are taking you in, and not I.'

'Oh . . .' She stared out the window as they passed cottages and villages and farms, everything appearing neat and prosperous, far more so than her own, larger house had ever been. Then the carriage brought them down, across an arching bridge. Mrs Clement was still prattling away, but Bella heard not a word in ten, her eyes enormous and her ears filled with rushing water. Through the profusion of trees and flowers, she could just make out hints of what looked, to her bedazzled eyes, like a castle; then, with a sudden sharp turn, they were on a path lined with even more greenery, the trees casting long shadows everywhere, and she could see it. Pemberley House seemed somehow less imposing and even more beautiful when in full view, with all sorts of plants climbing up the walls and around the windows, but it was still far grander than anything Bella had ever seen. She swallowed.

'There, there,' said Mrs Clement kindly, patting her hand. 'You will never be a Miss Darcy, of course, but I am certain you shall be very welcome.'

Bella did not feel particularly reassured, and walked behind her aunt with a loud pounding in her ears, trying to take in everything at once. Inside, all was quiet and stately, her shoes audible against the polished marble floor. Servants threw frequent curious glances in her direction; Bella turned a dull red and goosebumps rose on her arms.

'Mrs Clement and Miss Isabella Wickham,' announced a footman, ushering them into yet another room. Four people rose as they entered, and Bella, following her aunt's example, managed an unsteady curtsey.

Though her first impulse was to examine all the light, pretty things scattered about, she instead found her gaze involuntarily drawn towards one slight, delicate lady in the centre of the room, about the same age as Mrs Clement.

'Catherine, there you are!' the lady exclaimed. 'We were afraid something might have happened to you.—And you must be Isabella?'

'Y-yes,' stammered Bella, scarcely aware of the room's other occupants, 'but nobody ever calls me that, they call me Bella.'

'And do you like being called Bella?'

She stared, wondering if Pemberley was always such an elegant, orderly bedlam. 'I . . . I think so.'

'Well,' said the lady, 'until you make up your mind on the subject, we shall content ourselves with Bella. I am your other aunt, Lady Darcy.'

'Oh!' Bella's eyes widened. 'I thought you'd be taller!' Then she covered her mouth in astonished horror. 'That is . . . I meant . . .'

Somebody choked down laughter, and she turned a deep red. But Lady Darcy only smiled.

'You would be surprised,' she said, 'at how many people have said those exact words upon meeting me. Now, your uncle should be here in a few moments, but as we were all family, I do not think we need stand on ceremony. Please sit down, both of you; I certainly intend to. Bella, are you hungry?'

She hardly knew what to say; her rumbling stomach answered for her.

'Richard,' her aunt ordered, 'give your cousin a pastry.' Immediately one of the three children clustered about Lady Darcy, a boy of perhaps thirteen or fourteen, detached himself and held something thin and flaky towards Bella. 'This should keep you until dinner,' he said cheerfully, his narrow dark face strikingly similar to his mother's. 'Oh, I'm Richard Darcy, one of your cousins.' He held out his hand, and she awkwardly shook it, mumbling her own greeting through the pastry.

After a moment, she summoned enough courage to look directly at the two remaining strangers. Though not at all like him, they could only be Richard's brother and sister, the former in all his handsome dignity practically a man, while the other, a grey-eyed girl sitting at her mother's knee, seemed scarcely older than Bella herself.

'These are some of your other cousins,' said Lady Darcy, 'my eldest son Edward, and my daughter Georgiana.'

Edward inclined his head and greeted her politely enough, but true enthusiasm was left for Georgiana, who sprang to her feet with a bright smile, curls bouncing. 'I am so glad that you are finally here,' she exclaimed, holding out her hands, 'I have been waiting for days and days, I thought you would never come. I do hope we shall be friends, almost everybody I know is frightfully old.'

'I . . .'

'How old are you?'

'Ten,' Bella managed.

'Mama, did you hear? Bella is the same age as me! I am going to be eleven in December. When shall you be eleven?'

'May — '

'Then I must help you, as you are so much younger. Mama, may I show Bella her room?'

'No,' said Lady Darcy firmly, 'you are not going anywhere.'

'Oh, very well.' Georgiana scowled, then her expression cleared. 'You are almost as tall as I am,' she observed. 'I shall give you some of my dresses, they are much nicer than yours.'

Both her mother and eldest brother opened their mouths to scold her, but were interrupted by the sound of soft laughter mingled with light, steady footsteps. Edward and Mrs Clement straightened anxiously, while Richard fixed his eyes on the opening door.

Had there been time, Bella would have been afraid, she would have quailed and scarcely gathered the courage to lift her eyes from the floor, but instead she was already gazing with wide-eyed curiosity at the gentleman and young lady who entered the room. They were both tall and handsome, looking a little like Georgiana, a great deal like Edward, and mostly like each other. Bella instinctively stumbled to her feet, wiping one sticky hand on her dress.

'Papa!' shrieked Georgiana, and rushed towards her father and sister, kissing and embracing them both. Her cousin, whose eldest siblings had supplied very thorough accounts of Lord Darcy's awful severity, could only stare in astonishment.

Then, to Bella's horror, he looked at her. She felt the condemnation in his chilly grey eyes as an almost palpable thing, would not have been surprised in the least had he sent her straight back to Portsmouth. Yet she did not shrink back, standing very straight and still as she waited.

'Welcome to Pemberley, Isabella,' said Lord Darcy, and everybody, it seemed, exhaled a sigh of relief.