Georgiana Darcy's Secret Letters Read online

  Too much exercise Aunt Catherine had said was the cause, and Anne’s weak constitution was simply not up to gallivanting across fields and playing shuttlecock. Thankfully, a short while later Fitz had arrived to say he and Bingley were retreating to Pemberley and she had jumped at the chance to return home. Such was her life and not that exciting. Might she sound dull when the truth dawned on James? But she had already confessed to no great interest in balls and grand soirees, and it had in no way deterred his writing to her. She would write of things she enjoyed and he would make of it as he would, honesty their pledge.

  In hastening from the bed she placed the letter on the escritoire and opened the door to the sitting room. There inside the cosy room atop the low occasional table was tea and two slices of ginger cake to a plate and left on a silver tray. Riley had been and gone, and not a sound had she heard, his skill in closing doors with barely a click remarkable. She scooped up the tray and retreated to the bedchamber but where to place the tray?

  She chose the bed, taking the cup and plate with her to the escritoire, and whilst nibbling ginger cake she mulled how to begin her letter. But soon her thoughts had to be put to paper.

  ~

  Dear James,

  Whatever your malady— and it saddened me to hear of it, please do not fear I shall feel affronted if letters are less than immediate in reply. I expect there will be times of postal delay due to all manner of reasons, and what is a day, or two, or a se’night when winter sets in, as it does here from time to time with heavy falls of snow. Often then the byways and highways are impassable for days sometimes longer. But aside from winter woes, I suppose we are being decidedly wicked in dropping formal address so soon after our first encounter, but it somehow feels right. I cannot explain it, nor will I try to understand it. Some things just happen as though meant to be, serendipity it is said, though who said? I oft wonder with quotes bandied about where indeed they originated. We at least know ‘The Lady doth protest too much, methinks’ from Hamlet Act 3 Scene 2, and that has been quoted by my brother more times than I care to remember. But I digress, for you asked me of favoured things, and to pinpoint items is harder than realised.

  Flowers for instance, well— I love fragrant violets, small but so very lovely, primroses too, and sweet scented stocks and dianthus. Roses not so much except on the bush or rambling in glory, for they can be brutal things to gather and too often bite back. And today I received a posy of sweet scented pea flowers, not seen before. But to sweetmeats, ah, I confess a weakness for ginger cake, spiced of course, and tartlets of every fruit imaginable along with candy or marzipan treats, which are pure heaven.

  Now, what else can I tell you— oh yes, I do love fur-trim on outer garments but always feel dreadfully guilty that an animal was killed to provide its pelt, so I only approve fur if the carcass ends up in stew pots. Silk I adore but do wonder if the silk worms suffer a great deal, how can one be sure how the thread is gathered? I know nothing of silk worms.

  As to pastimes, I read a great deal, novels in particular, not all good for me as Fitz would say, if it were known I possessed one or two of Anne Radcliffe’s novels. The lady’s plots are, how shall I say, a little risqué, quite frightening, but one feels compelled to turn the pages, especially that of A Sicilian Romance. I have long been in search of Miss Austen’s earlier work, Sense & Sensibility. Alas, have yet to alight on a copy in the local book shop. It was sold out.

  So what else do I do with my time— I ride, I embroider though with no great enthusiasm. I indulge and enjoy watercolour painting, and of course, when here I ramble with Lady Belle’s Scotty dog. When at Pemberley I have accompanied my elder brother to local events, supper parties, and summer picnics with people of whom I am well acquainted. I don’t suppose marriage for my brother will have altered his orderly way of life, and instead of fitting in with his schedule I shall be falling in with the new mistress of Pemberley and her daily schedule— when I finally return home that is. What else can one do but comply with others wishes until one has a home of one’s own. But tell me more about you, your likes and dislikes, for I shall look forward to insight of that nature.

  Ever curious, Georgiana.

  c/o Farthingly.

  ~

  She reread her letter, and for a moment wondered if she had rambled a little too much, and perhaps the last paragraph was a little too forward in talk of one’s own home. Oh dear, but to rewrite it would be tedious. No, she had written it, therefore it must stay written.

  With expediency she sprinkled the letter with sand. Whilst allowing a moment for it to absorb moisture, and instead of blowing the grains all over the escritoire desk, she carefully and loosely folded the paper side to side, tilted it, and then tapped the sand into the sand collection dish. She then reread her missive again before folding ready to seal it, but first the address.

  It was Sunday, and James would be at Farthingly on Wednesday. He may not reply in the interim but she would will it so.

  A tap at the door, and, “Georgie, are you taking rest?”

  “Noooo. I’ll come through to the sitting room, for I was merely catching up on correspondence.”

  Four

  ~

  Belle sashayed across to the sofa nearest to the blazing hearth and perched on the edge of the seat, her gown resplendent with lace trim despite pale blue wool weave, which matched the blue of her eyes, her hair a golden halo. Hamish as always was taking advantage of the hearthside.

  “You are such a good girl, Georgie, in keeping up to date with your letters, and I wilfully inadequate in that quarter. If not for Hanley my desk would vanish beneath mail.”

  “We cannot all afford a man of papers,” said she in settling to the chair she had claimed as hers.

  “Ha, you remembered his saying he did not consider himself a secretary, for it rendered him as wooden as its namesakes. His dislike for clerk was made apparent too.”

  She laughed. “Fitz never lets anyone near his mail. And a man of papers sounds well read and a little in like to a man of business.”

  “Hanley is indeed well read, his literate replies on my behalf are a pleasure to peruse prior to adding my signatory.”

  “You do not let him open private correspondence, surely not.”

  “He has on occasion by mistake, but is the epitome of discretion and admitted immediately to his faux pas. I have since stipulated private letters be marked as such from persons to whom privacy means a great deal.”

  “Does that not raise levels of curiosity?”

  “Oh undoubtedly, and of course, there are those who wish exchange of monies in transactions for equine flesh be kept secret.”

  “How do you keep exchanges of that nature from Hanley, when it is he who keeps your ledgers up to date?”

  “The estate ledgers yes, whereas the stud books are in my safe keeping.”

  “Oh, I see, but if he keeps the account ledgers up to date horse transactions will be there before his eyes.”

  “The sum total paid and name of the horse, Georgie, whereas the purchaser’s name is kept within the stud books.”

  “I find it difficult keeping secrets. In fact I despise deceit, for it always hurts someone in the overall scheme of whatever.”

  “Georgie dearest, you don’t still harbour guilt over your misguided affair with Wickham— surely not.”

  “A little and feel I dare not return to Pemberley else I may land Fitz in a pickle and then his visitations here will be revealed. Think of all that could materialise from one slip of my tongue. Aside from which Fitz has been acting a little strange, constant in enquiring after visitors and—”

  “Do you mean visitors to Farnley?”

  Belle leapt from her seat and moved to stand to the fore of the window, and once again Georgiana ninny head Darcy had opened her mouth when she should have kept quiet.

  “Oh dash it, I did not mean to land him in a pickle here, as well as the pickle that may arise at Pemberley. For there is every likelihood of a pickle if he continues his risqué game-play.”

  “How dare Darcy treat you as a spy in my house? What can he be thinking?”

  “He cares for you Belle, he always has, and I think he fears he will lose you to the earl. You cannot deny you and my brother were constant companions for years, and between the two of you, Bonnie has meant everything and held you together. I know you have stayed away from Pemberley since your first encounter with Caroline Bingley, and all in belief you would not stand in the way if he chose to marry her.”

  “It was the perfect solution, for I knew she was wrong for him and I would not be the one to tell him so. I determined if he took her to the marital bed then I would never set foot in Pemberley again.”

  “Will you now that he is married to Elizabeth?”

  Belle swept back to the sofa, becalmed a little. “If I receive invitation to attend a function at Pemberley, indeed, I will attend, if nothing else but to meet the Mistress of Pemberley.”

  “Will you like her though— as I do?”

  “More to the point, will she tolerate my presence?”

  “You cannot undo all that you and Fitz have shared over the years, and I have looked on you as near to a big sister as ever any girl could wish for. You have always been a great leveller for Fitz too, and when you and he were at the dance years past it was no wonder everyone thought betrothal was a certainty, but you upped and said no. I was rather young and naive and only vaguely remember his disappointment. It was Wickham who later said despair had so beset Fitzwilliam he fled to London, when I had thought he had gone on business. Whilst there he encountered Bingley who then came back to Pemberley with him at news of father’s death, and somehow you and Fitz bridged the divide, and the day Bonnie was born she became the highlight of your lives, and ther
eafter Bingley joined the Derbyshire set.

  “Yes, but Bingley was nothing like his sisters, and when Caroline and the Hurst couple invited themselves to Pemberley two years later, Fitzwilliam played the role of the perfect host, and I dare say Caroline afforded him sense of his attractiveness to young ladies.”

  “For all his handsomeness in recent years he has rarely if ever been sought after by ladies of the Derbyshire set despite he is heir to the Pemberley Estate, his brusque manner off-putting. As one or two young ladies were heard giggling over his cock ‘a’ snoot and stuff shirt ways. So yes, he was perhaps a little enamoured with Caroline’s attentions at the outset, and perhaps he did look on her as a way to avoid marriage to our cousin Anne. That aside, he had always lacked Wickham’s charming ways, and I think Anne was a little afraid of Fitz.”

  “Ah well, Wickham charmed the ladies with his lively spirit and gaming ways, and he did indeed become the lovable rogue alongside the new Master of Pemberley until their falling out over Wickham’s inheritance from your father. But you could be right about Caroline. Perhaps Darcy did look upon her as a means unto end in thwarting Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s ambitions, or merely to present the fact his heart was not in marriage to his cousin. It would account for his jaunt to London for a second time, and in company with the Bingley party. His going inadvertently left the door open for Wickham to make his play for you, and that dashed charming fellow did escort you out riding with no one else in attendance, and whiled an inordinate amount of time in your company when he knew full well he was banned from setting foot on Pemberley soil.”

  “Oh do not remind me of that. I have so desperately tried to put silliness behind me.”

  “You were not silly, Georgie, you became infatuated with the young devil, and it could never be said of Wickham he was slow in putting himself forward in the charm stakes. What happened was as natural as any young lady flattered by his attentions, and you then fell a little in love with him. He broke hearts county-wide in boyhood and farther afield when grown a young buck, and you my love, had reached that vulnerable age, that wondrous age of discovery and realisation a young male friend can be more than a friend if romance blossoms.”

  “I did love him a little more than was good for me, but when the truth was revealed I felt such a fool. If not for Fitz’s sudden arrival in Ramsgate and his belief something was amiss, I would never have confessed my love for Wickham, and may have been wed before Fitz could have prevented it and what then.”

  Belle pursed her lip, perhaps mulling something, and then: “At first I thought Mrs. Younge’s notion to take you away from the sadness prevailing at Pemberley, was a wise decision. You were still grieving the loss of your father, albeit two years after the event, and Darcy agreed a change of scene would be beneficial. That first letter you wrote telling of your arrival in Ramsgate set me pondering the coincidence of Wickham’s arrival in the very same place. It was effectively a warning shot and jarred me from blindness to Wickham’s faults— faults I had dismissed as former wildness of youth. Initially in having seen you so happy in each other’s company it almost swayed me to believe his intentions toward you were honourable and quite innocent. But, I had previously caught him in close discourse with Mrs. Younge whilst in Lambton. They were standing in the shadows of the great yew in Lambton churchyard and something in his posture struck me as inappropriate albeit he stepped smartly aside as I opened the gate to pay visit to my uncle’s grave with a posy of flowers. Suffice to say, I sensed the damnable woman had been equally blinded by Wickham, or that something else entirely was afoot. Thus when that thought leapt to mind, and Wickham conveniently in Margate as were you, I dispatched a missive to Darcy post-haste.

  “I had not thought of Mrs. Younge as attractive to younger men, and it would account for the way in which she always urged me to bed earlier than need be for my years when Wickham came a visiting. I remember his saying it was most inconvenient to lodge at a nearby inn, and he always left very late at night, or at least I presumed he had. Do you suppose that woman and Wickham, well, you know?”

  “I think it very likely.”

  “You see how foolish I was in thinking Mrs. Younge’s smiles in Wickham’s direction were innocent, when— oh what is to become of me, Belle, I am hopeless when it comes to judging men and their motives, and feel I must seek sage advice before I make a fool of myself once again. But let us not forget my brother’s stiff countenance and stoical belief his inheritance passed to him too soon, and true it was, for his freedom was curtailed with added burden as my guardian, and then there was Wickham’s accusations Fitz had cheated him out of his true inheritance. So intense became their argument and accusations, Wickham said in one fiery blast, and I overheard it clearly:

  ‘Why in the deuce do you think so much love and affection was bestowed upon me by Mr. Darcy senior, and the why of his treating me as son alongside you, his pompous and righteous heir. Did it never occur to you, his stomping up the payments for my education in like to yours had greater bearing on his generosity— unusual generosity for a mere estate steward’s son? If you have not worked it out by now, then you are a blind fool’ And oh how Fitz exploded forth with, ‘Get out damn you, be gone and never darken Pemberley again’. Thus Wickham departed and slammed the door with such force I quite believed the woodwork would be damaged. When all fell quiet I fled from the upper sitting room to my bedchamber fearful of Fitz’s rage. And indeed felt terribly sad for Wickham.”

  “If not for your joint guardian, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I think Darcy may have found it far more difficult to shoulder the responsibility for the Pemberley Estate, and your pretty little self, when he had just reached the prime of young manhood. He was torn and relied on others to satisfy your needs, and for him the provision of a companion had seemed the simplest solution. We cannot fault him in that, and it worked out well until Mrs. Younge fell foul to Wickham’s charm.”

  “Poor Fitz really had little opportunity to enjoy life after he graduated from Cambridge. I was foisted onto him and what a burden I have been.”

  “Be assured you are not and never have been a burden to your brother. When he committed to engaging a companion for you, Mrs. Younge was of genteel grace and admirably accredited as governess and companion to young ladies. It was purely out of love for you he harboured belief companionship of a woman would be beneficial to you. There can be no disputing she taught you much in terms of education, the finer things of female interests, dancing, and fashionable elegance.”

  “And I liked her well enough too, but have much preferred my time here at Farthingly. You and I have more in common, and our love for the countryside and sporting equine pursuits requires far less formality.”

  “Indeed we have, but a moment past you mentioned desire for sage advice, so how can I help— if at all?”

  A deep sigh escaped, the moment upon her: “I received a letter from Lieutenant James Dolby, Viscount Welton.”

  “Ah, then I thoroughly approve. I had thought him rather taken with you, and he is a fine officer and gentleman, and handsome to his military boots.”

  “I’m afraid I am quite taken with him.”

  “By the by, has he told you of his heroics and that he was badly injured. At the time it was thought he may lose his leg. The field surgeon determined otherwise and afforded benefit of doubt gangrene would set in. If it had later materialised, it would have been off with the leg above the knee within days.”

  News of that nature always surged and roiled in her stomach and light-headedness befell her. The affliction was but momentary though no less apparent.