Happy New Year everyone ! Here is Ch. 5 and I hope it follows chapter 4! Best wishes, Lily B.

Chapter 5

While Elizabeth was working as a companion for Mrs Murray, she slept and ate an early breakfast in Mrs Hopkins home. Her hostess lived modestly and Elizabeth gladly gave her part of her wages every week to help defray the cost of feeding and housing her. Now without work, Mrs Hopkins was the only person she knew who could possibly hear of any possible job prospects in the area. I need employment; how much longer will Mrs Hopkins be willing to host me? Wherever I find work, I will have to save all my money in the event I need to find my own place to live. I am a gentleman's daughter, but if I cannot find a position as a companion or governess, I may be forced to work as a maid. It is still difficult to accept my new status in the world; like it or not, I am in service.

Several weeks passed with no news of potential opportunities and she felt ill at ease depending on her hostess's generosity. While Mrs Hopkins was out one morning, Elizabeth walked a short distance to seek a job at the Rose and Crown. While waiting to meet with the proprietor, she overheard two men in the bar conversing and moved closer to hear them better.

"No one wants to work at Pembrook Cottage. Me sister Patsy only lasted two days thar and you know what a thick 'ide she 'as. She an' some of the other girls who left thar 'ave gone to off to Chesterfield to look for work."

"What be the problem? I 'eard more than ten girls got 'ired and left soon after."

"'Tis Mr Darcy. Since the fire, 'e is no 'isself. 'E was always a fair and gen'rous master and now 'e yells and throws things at anyone near 'im. Patsy say, his face is scarred somethin' awful and 'e can barely walk. 'E's in his cups day an night raging about all kinds of things."

"No surprise no one lasts long working thar."

Elizabeth approached the men showing them her left side. "Pardon me, I could not help but overhear your conversation about a job at Pembrook Cottage. I am looking for work and believe I could last longer than the others."

"What's a pretty girl like you needin' to work as a maid?"

She turned to show them the right side of her face. "Who should I speak to about the job?"

The men scrambled to find the right words after seeing her birthmark. One of them found his voice and answered, "that be Mrs Reynolds, miss. She comes into the village 'most every morning to buy food for the master. She is not yet fifty and 'as dark 'air and bright blue eyes. If you see 'er, she will speak to you. No airs from Mrs Reynolds."

"I thank you both and hope to meet her in the morning." Elizabeth curtsied and left the inn feeling more optimistic than she had in weeks.

"She might do alright at the cottage after all. She was not dressed like a maid but with 'er scars and Mr Darcy with 'is, they may get along just fine."

"You never know what might 'appen."

The next morning Elizabeth and Mrs Hopkins waited in front of the butcher shop. "She is coming now; I will introduce you and then leave to finish my marketing."

"Good morning, Mrs Reynolds."

"Good morning."

"Allow me to introduce my cousin Elizabeth Bennet, who is staying with me."

"How do you do, Miss Bennet? How may I help you?" Mrs Hopkins made her excuses and left the women to speak privately.

"I am looking for work and heard you might need another maid at Pembrook Cottage."

"You are too well dressed to be a maid, are you certain you wish to seek work?"

"Yes ma'am, my story is a familiar one; I am the daughter of a landed gentleman who died suddenly leaving nothing to support his wife and daughters. The estate was entailed to a distant cousin and I have no choice but to find work."

"I understand your dilemma. If you are related to Alice Hopkins, I will give you a chance; at this point I am desperate. I warn you now the master, Mr Darcy is not himself and is very difficult to be around. I have known him since he was a child; he is a good man who has suffered an unspeakable tragedy; both losing his home and being seriously injured. When can you begin?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

"I will send a carriage to Mrs Hopkins' home in the morning."

"Thank you for the opportunity, Mrs Reynolds."

"I wish you luck young lady; you will need it."

When Elizabeth returned home, she confirmed she was going to start working at Pembrook Cottage in the morning. Mrs Hopkins smiled and asked her guest to sit beside her. "I am very pleased for you but now that you will be working there, you should know there are many stories about that old place."

"What kind of stories? I hope no one thinks the cottage is haunted!"

"Quite the opposite; many say the cottage is enchanted."

Elizabeth scoffed, "enchanted? Do you really believe that?"

"I only know what I have heard. The next time you write to your Aunt Gardiner, ask her about the cottage and I am certain she will confirm the rumours. They say enchantment is the oldest form of medicine and perhaps it will help Mr Darcy's recovery."

Elizabeth did not know what to make of Mrs Hopkins statement. After the unhappy events of the recent months, she was looking forward to any positive experiences within her new home, enchantment or not.

As promised, a carriage arrived the following morning to bring Elizabeth and her trunks to Pembrook Cottage. She vividly remembered her aunt's description of the many tours she took of the outside of the manor house and grounds before her family moved to London. Her aunt spoke in detail about the home's beautiful stone façade reflected in the lake fronting the house although her favourite part of the tours were the massive flower gardens with blooms bursting in every colour. My aunt was correct, the trees, the stream, the blue sky and the lake create a beautiful natural setting. When she saw what was left of the manor house and grounds, she gasped in shock; the stone walls were thick with soot and the air was redolent with smoke. The Lodge House we just passed is quite imposing; Pemberley House must have been massive. All that remains are the charred stones and bricks used to build the structure and in many places those have collapsed. My aunt will be saddened to learn the once beautiful gardens are all charred and lifeless. To think, that small lake once reflected the beauty of the manor house. When she arrived at her destination, she thought the cottage was utterly charming. Flowers had been planted on either side of a stone bench near the front door and the bright colours enhanced the cottage's appeal and made her feel welcome.

Mrs Reynolds greeted her and showed her to her chambers near the kitchen. "I will not introduce you to Mr Darcy quite yet. He has not been civil to your predecessors but pray be understanding if he sees you and treats you thus. Keep in mind he is seriously injured and has lost his home. Before the fire you could not meet a kinder, more generous master."

"Yes, ma'am, I will. Where shall I begin?"

Over the next few weeks, Elizabeth caught glimpses of Darcy but stayed as far away from him as possible. She witnessed him yelling at anyone near him and throwing things without reason. The local apothecary came regularly for the first few weeks she was there but then his visits stopped. I never met someone so unpleasant and disagreeable in my life. He is quite handsome despite the fresh wounds that cover half his face and he can barely get around using a cane – I suppose his legs were also injured by the blaze. When I encounter him, I must be sympathetic and remember all he has been through.

One morning, Elizabeth was sent up to Darcy's room with fresh linens; she had never before made a bed but thought it could not be that difficult to figure out. When she knocked and entered, the smell was so foul she needed to hold her nose. Lucky for her, Darcy was still asleep in his bed, so she retreated and quietly closed the door. She found Mrs Reynolds and explained why she had failed to complete the task assigned to her. The housekeeper nodded and looked disconsolate hearing what she already knew to be true. "He was a sweet tempered, kind boy and I can only pray something, or someone can help him get over his current state of mind." Elizabeth needed the job and save all the money she could. She would deal with her employer's unsavoury behaviour as long as necessary to keep working.

"Thank you for coming vicar; I did not know to whom I should turn for help. He has barely left his room for weeks; I will show you up to his chambers."

"I will do whatever I can to help."

"Mr Darcy?" The housekeeper knocked hard on his door. She raised her voice, "sir, Mr Martin is here to see you."

Darcy's speech was slurred as he shouted, "send him away! I told you I will not speak to anyone!"

Without an invitation, Mr. Martin opened the door to Darcy's chambers. The room was dark despite the morning hour, and it reeked of alcohol and the unwashed man sitting on the floor. "Mrs Reynolds, pray bring up lots of strong coffee and some food. Bathing can wait for now."

"Get out, Martin! I am in no mood for your platitudes." The vicar gently removed the bottle of brandy Darcy held loosely in his hand. "Pemberley House is a burnt-out ruin and the only thing I did not destroy is the wine cellar." He snickered, "I plan to empty it myself as quickly as I can."

"I had not heard that you set fire to the manor house. Is this something new?"

"I know you mean well but pray leave me to drink myself into oblivion. It is the only way I can find peace. There is nothing left of what my family has built over the last three hundred years. I did nothing to earn my estate but I was charged with its care and my parents would be so disappointed in me. Nothing remains but ashes," his voice faded as he repeated, "all ashes, ashes."

Mr Martin opened the heavy curtains and as the morning sun poured in, Darcy covered his eyes to shield them from the bright light. The vicar saw it had been a long time since the room and its occupant had been cleaned. Dirty clothes were discarded everywhere, bed linens badly needing washing were dangling from the bed, and empty wine bottles sat atop every flat surface.

"Come in," Martin responded to the housekeeper's knock. "Please put everything on the desk and I will serve Mr Darcy. Ask his valet to join us in thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir." The housekeeper looked at the shell of the man collapsed against the wall; the man who was once Fitzwilliam Darcy, the kind and generous master of Pemberley. She had tears in her eyes as she left the room and went to find Kenton.

The cleric poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Darcy who looked up with a leer. "Drink this and another one after that. Maybe then you will be able to think and speak more clearly."

"I know you mean well but look at me. My face is hideous, and I can barely walk. I have nothing to live for! Even the woman I was being forced to marry will no longer have me and she is bearing another man's child. Pemberley Park is gone."

"Listen to me carefully, you have everything to live for. First, you have your sister and your family. They love and care for you which you would know if you had not refused to see them. Secondly, your wounds will heal; the fire was only a few weeks ago. Give it time; the pain will lessen each day and your leg will get stronger if you use it to do more than walk within these walls. Pemberley House can be rebuilt and returned to what it once was, maybe better. I know you have always taken care of your tenants regardless of the success of the harvest and you will do so again. There is no reason you cannot plant new crops in the spring." A knock interrupted him, "come in. Good morning, Kenton, I believe Mr Darcy needs a long bath, a shave and haircut, and some clean clothes. I will ask Mrs Reynolds to have the maids change his bed linens and collect his dirty garments while he is in the tub. Farewell, for today, sir. I will return to see you soon." He growled as Martin closed the door and the valet helped his master stand and led him to the tub of hot water.

Darcy gave a great deal of thought to Mr Martin's advice. From that day on, he resisted being drunk beyond reason every day. Some days were more difficult than others and he used copious amounts of brandy to succumb to the arms of Morpheus. Even if he could walk that far, he had no wish to return to the manor house; he could not force himself to bear witness to the extent of the devastation.

Several days after Mr Martin's visit, Lambton's constable, Jonas Franklin, came to inspect the damage and then asked to meet with Darcy. He had no choice but to slowly make his way to the front of the house. Mr Franklin asked after Darcy's health and then asked where he was currently living. When he heard the answer, the constable smiled and replied, "there is a story about that old place, but I will not bother you with it now." They both turned to gaze at the damage. "Sir, do you have fire insurance for Pemberley House?"

"No, only for my townhouse in London; if a fire started in one of the neighbouring houses it would quickly spread. This house is so big I always assumed we would be able to contain a fire to a small area. Unfortunately, it looks as if I was wrong."

"After my inspection, there is a great deal of evidence that the fire was not an accident but was deliberately set."

"How did you arrive at that conclusion?" Darcy was incredulous.

"A pile of books was stacked by the library doors and another heap was set ablaze in one of the other rooms. There were probably other areas where other fires were started but it was not safe for me to inspect the entire first floor. Not only that, I found the doors to the library and the other rooms open, which helped the fire spread more rapidly. The blaze swiftly moved through the house and acting in the middle of the night prevented anyone from noticing the smoke and fire until it was too late. An inadvertent fire almost always starts in one place, one more reason I suspect this damage was intentional."

Darcy was bewildered and some of his guilt began to ease. The destruction of Pemberley House was not due to any carelessness on my part. "Who…who would have done such a thing?"

"Do you have any enemies? Anyone who holds a grudge against you? I know you are well liked by your servants and your tenants speak very highly of you. Someone would have to bear a great deal of animosity toward you to do something like this."

The only person Darcy knew who hated him so much that he would set fire to a house full of sleeping people was George Wickham. He had not seen him in more than a year but he would not mention his suspicions to the constable until he could prove his former friend was responsible. "No, no one I can think of, butI will try to recall all my past business dealings and see if any of them ended badly enough for someone to do this. I have not yet entered the house but when I do, I will go through everything in my study carefully to see if I can find any clues. I will let you know if I discover something." Darcy knew there was no need to look through any records; the more he thought about it he knew there was only one person responsible for the destruction.

When he returned to the cottage, Mrs Reynolds asked him if he needed anything. "No thank you, I am just thinking about what Franklin said."

"Does he know how the fire started?"

He was lost in his thoughts. "What? What did you say?"

"I asked if Mr Franklin knows how the fire started."

"Oh no, too early to tell." I will not say that fiend's name aloud until there is proof Wickham did it.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam unexpectedly arrived at the cottage one afternoon and found his cousin drinking brandy in his chambers. When he entered the room his closest friend cried, "my ancestors built Pemberley Park to be the fine estate it was, but that heritage has been destroyed. Richard," Darcy whined, "my dear mother chose the furniture and curtains and now it is all lost!"

"Listen to me." He removed the glass from Darcy's hand and placed the bottle out of sight. "The fire is tragic but none of this is your fault. Thank heavens you escaped with your life, and no one died in the fire. Another good thing came out of it; it ended your betrothal to Lady Beatrice, who, I have heard is almost ready to give Palmerston an heir." He paused before adding, "we have always been brothers to each other and as someone who loves you, It is time to get your life back in order; being drunk all day must cease."

"I am not drunk every day." He hesitated before telling his cousin what had been weighing on him. "Richard, listen to me. The constable was here..." Darcy recounted what the inspection revealed without divulging his suspicions.

"Wickham! That dog is the only person who would try to kill you and Georgie and destroy the house in which you slept. After you spoiled his plans to elope with your sister last summer, he was clearly out for revenge of the cruellest kind. Thankfully, she was with my parents when the fire was set and not in danger. You should have let me run him through after Ramsgate."

"It is the only thing I can think about. When I prevented him from eloping with Georgiana last summer, he realized he would never get his hands on her £30,000. Perhaps he thought this was one way he could exact the ultimate revenge by killing us both."

"Yes, that is possible but how…how could he financially benefit from your deaths? Money! Money is all Wickham cares about. He would not inherit a farthing if you died and…wait? Is anything valuable missing from the house? Have you checked the safe? He may have used the fire as a distraction to steal the Darcy jewels or some other valuables from you."

"But all those things were locked in a safe in my study."

"Where is the key?"

"It was in my desk."

"What is in the safe now?"

He reluctantly admitted, "I cannot say; I have not yet summoned the courage to enter the house. You may be onto something Richard; if it was Wickham, stealing everything in the safe may have been his primary motivation – killing us was just an added bonus. The sun is setting but in the morning, we can go through my study together and see what we can find. I must force myself to do what is right by my parents and all those who came before them."

"I must return to my troops in two days. Before we search your study, will you ride with me in the morning? Mrs Reynolds told me the stables suffered only minor damage."

"Look at me! I cannot ride!" Darcy barked. "I am a crippled man who will never ride again!" Richard let the subject drop but planned to consult the London doctor who treated his cousin as soon as possible. He needed the truth regarding his cousin's ability to ride again, not just him feeling sorry for himself.

The thought of entering Pemberley House terrified Darcy as the cousins walked toward the manor house the following morning. His legs were shaking, and he felt sick to his stomach. When they stepped through the doorway, the first thing they saw were the charred portraits of his Darcy ancestors scattered across the ash covered floor. I was tasked to follow in their noble footsteps; to be a fair landlord and master as well as a devoted brother. I certainly failed at all my responsibilities. "Some of these paintings hung in the upstairs gallery. The floor must have been completely destroyed."

Richard did not respond as they carefully walked among the ruins until they entered the study. The solid oak desk had sustained extensive fire damage, but the contents of the drawers were not affected. He took the key from the same box he and his father used and showed it to his cousin. The bookcase was charred but intact and he used the lever to expose the safe and immediately saw it was empty. "Only one man could have done it. I know in my soul it was him! He has the deed for this estate and all my other properties. More than five hundred pounds and the Darcy jewels are gone! All he left are these empty trays. He always wanted Pemberley Park for himself, and I would bet everything that he is at this very moment in London trying to have everything changed to his name. How can he think he will ever assume ownership of my properties? He has always wanted to be a member of the bon ton, and I am certain he has used the money he stole to purchase a new wardrobe and let a residence at a fashionable address. If he attempts to sell any of my mother's jewels," Darcy paused and ran his hand through his hair. "I will never allow him to get away with it! Never! My father guided this estate through years of droughts and floods but knew what to do to safeguard the Park and all the tenants. Wickham is responsible for all this." He waved his hand around the burnt remains of his study.

"How kind of him to replace the key precisely where he found it. The constable would never suspect a robbery since the safe was concealed but how did he know where to find the key?"

"The reprobate undoubtedly spied on my father every chance he got and watched him open the safe and put the key away. I would not put anything past that snake."

"He always boasted he was more loved than you and may have been sending a message to anyone who may have survived. I must return to London tomorrow and I will let you know what I can find out. If necessary, I will contact some of my former troops who are now Bow Street Runners. I would like nothing more than to see Wickham hang after what he tried to do to Georgie last summer; the fire and theft will insure he pays the ultimate price for his behaviours."

"Pray contact my solicitors as soon as possible and tell them everything that has happened here. No one would believe I would sell Pemberley Park to that wastrel, but George is devious and clever. When the authorities are informed of what he has done here, he will spend a long time in gaol if not worse. My bankers and solicitors should know enough not to believe he is acting on my behalf and I pray my assets are still intact."

The colonel looked at his injured cousin, "I imagine you will not be in town any time soon and you sent Georgie away. Darcy, I worry about you being here alone. There must be some lovely young women living at nearby estates."

"Have you taken a good look at me? I am a cripple, and my face is hideous."

"The right woman will love you as you are; being all alone for so long is not healthy. You have always taken care of everyone you love but you need someone who will take care of you. Find someone to love and stand beside you when you decide to rebuild."

Darcy looked down at the ground and shook his head. No one will ever look at me without the same revulsion I saw on Lady Beatrice's face. Richard is accustomed to seeing wounded men and has seen burns like mine on the battlefield. No woman will ever love me for myself, only for my wealth. "We had better leave now; the beams above us are creaking and for all I know the ceiling could collapse on top of us any minute."

As they walked out the front door, Richard inquired, "how do think Wickham got in? I assume all the doors are locked at night."

"Yes, the footmen check to see the house is secure before retiring."

"Can you get back on your own?" Darcy nodded. "I wish to do a bit of investigating and will join you as soon as I can."

An hour later, Richard entered the cottage, "it is just as I thought. I walked around the back of the house and saw a window in the library had been forced from its frame. Most of the windows were shattered by the heat of the fire, but that particular window was placed against the stone wall and remains intact."

"We must find that miserable rat and see that he pays for all the damage he has inflicted on my family since he was a boy."

"I will start the search as soon as I get back to town. Rest easy, we will find him no matter how long it takes; George Wickham will live to regret ever harming the Darcy family."

Weeks after being dispatched, Darcy received the express from the jeweller. Because it could not be delivered to Pemberley House, it was misdirected back to Darcy House in London and took weeks to find its way to the cottage. The jeweller wrote about a gentleman who came into his store trying to sell several items he made exclusively for Lady Anne. Mr Carter had not heard Mr Darcy wished to sell them and wanted to be certain he was correct in his thinking. He described in detail the man who attempted to sell them, and Darcy was now certain Wickham was responsible for everything. He wrote his cousin and asked him to visit Carter's shop and any others he thought might be involved. He asked Richard to assure them that he would buy back any jewels they had purchased and to hold onto them until they could be reclaimed.

London

After receiving his cousin's letter, Richard visited Mr Carter, and got a more detailed description of the man trying to sell the Darcy jewels; he, too, was now certain it was Wickham. "Sir, have any of your fellow craftsmen tried to sell you any of the stolen property?"

"Yes, Colonel, when I make something as exquisite as Lady Anne's jewels, although not easily visible to the naked eye, I engrave my initials on the back of each piece; much like an artist signing a painting. Several merchants with less than stellar reputations saw my initials and came here to ask if I would like to buy the jewels back. I took them on consignment, assuming the Darcy family would reclaim them one day."

"Thank you, Mr Carter, pray hold onto them until the thief can be apprehended."

Richard was fuming as he walked back to his barracks. He was frustrated by his inability to find and punish Wickham for what he had done to his family. Even Carter's description is not enough proof that George committed the crime; he must be caught in the act of selling the stolen items. It is time to call in some favours; but if I should find him first, I will gladly wring his neck.

The following day he met with several men who had served under him and now worked with the Bow Street Runners. "I know who committed the crime, but we need concrete proof; perhaps a receipt from the jewellers where his ill-gotten gains were sold - if he was brazen enough to use his real name. We need to find out how many jewellers are involved and have them describe the man who sold the stolen items to them. Here is a likeness of the man you are looking for. We need to find him in the act of selling the stolen property. Mr Darcy is a wealthy man, and you will all be well compensated when George Wickham is securely behind bars." Richard left the meeting confident that the Runners would not fail their former commander and do everything possible to find their prey.

The pouch from his solicitors arrived by courier and Darcy was relieved to hold the stolen deeds in his hands; he was thankful that Pemberley Park, even in its current state, was still his. Before the courier departed, he expressed his appreciation to him for travelling so far and added, "pray thank Mr Hartford for me. I have known him since I was a boy when I visited his office with my father. He knows I would never sell what has taken generations to build."

"We were curious as to why the gentleman who brought the deeds to our office said that Pemberley Park was in ruins. Mr Hartford had not heard of the fire."

"The only person who could have said that is the man who set the blaze. Thank you for telling me; that man is no gentleman and he will soon be behind bars for the rest of his life."

"Mrs Reynolds, I owe you an apology."

"An apology, sir?"

"I am terribly sorry for the way I spoke to you after the fire. I was not myself and you, more than anyone else, deserve my respect, not my abuse."

"Mr Darcy, I have known you since you were a boy, a kind sweet hearted boy. You were a caring and generous master until you were struck with an unimaginable disaster. I am proud of you and always will be."

"I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I am thankful to have it."