Secrets at Pemberley

by Penelope Swan

  “I do declare, Miss Bennet, I am in awe of your independent style. To have such confidence and exhibit such indifference to decorum when the fancy takes you!” said Caroline Bingley with mock reverence. “I own, I am full of admiration for your boldness. Indeed, did you not fly in the face of convention by meeting a gentleman—a highwayman no less—alone in the night while staying at Netherfield Park?”

  Elizabeth looked up angrily. “I—”

  “And it appears that you are indulging in the same fancies again,” Caroline Bingley interrupted. “For I have it on good authority that you were seen yesterday afternoon enjoying an encounter with a certain highwayman.” She gave a sly sideways glance at Darcy, and sent a suggestive smile around the table.

  A shocked silence greeted this announcement, and all eyes turned towards Elizabeth. She opened her mouth to protest, then caught sight of Georgiana’s face across the table from her. The girl looked as if she might faint and Elizabeth belatedly remembered Georgiana’s confession of meeting Wickham in the rockery the day before. Whoever had witnessed the encounter had obviously not been close enough to confirm the identity of the young lady in question. There was enough doubt at present for Georgiana to escape notice, but should Elizabeth protest her innocence, the focus would shift to another… very possibly to Darcy’s sister. She saw the girl raise her eyes in desperate entreaty.

  Elizabeth hesitated, then said at last, “I… I know not what you mean.”

  “Indeed?” said Miss Bingley, enjoying her discomfiture. “Perhaps I need to refresh your memory: a young lady was seen in the rockery, meeting with George Wickham and spending a good amount of time in his company.”

  “Is the source of your information backstairs gossip?” said Mrs Gardiner sharply, giving Caroline Bingley a withering glance.

  The other woman hesitated, then muttered, “My maid heard some talk while she was in the village this morning. It appears that someone was delivering something to the estate and witnessed the encounter.”

  Mrs Gardiner raised her eyebrows. “I could hardly credit you with repeating servants’ gossip, Miss Bingley. ’Tis certainly not the behaviour expected of a true lady.”

  Caroline Bingley flushed angrily at the rebuke. One of Darcy’s other guests hurriedly changed the topic to the wonders of Haddon Hall, another favourite Derbyshire attraction, and Mr Gardner quickly picked up the thread of conversation, promising to add the recommendation to their itinerary. Soon the topic at the table veered into more comfortable territory.

  The damage, however, had been done. By her hesitation alone, Elizabeth knew that she had indicated a tacit acceptance of Caroline Bingley’s accusations. When she dared to glance down the table at Darcy, she could see by his stony expression that he had certainly come to the worst conclusion regarding the affair. Her heart sank. Even Georgiana’s grateful look from across the table was not enough to soothe Elizabeth’s feelings and she spent the rest of dinner in an agony of misery and frustration.

  The gentlemen did not linger long at the table and soon joined the ladies in the drawing room after dinner. Though Caroline Bingley refrained from any more barbed comments, there remained an undercurrent of tension in the atmosphere. Elizabeth was relieved when Georgiana volunteered to provide them with some music. Perhaps some entertainment would lighten the mood. The others settled down at the card tables which had been set up on one side of the drawing room. Elizabeth watched as Miss Bingley, with a triumphant smile, quickly manoeuvred into position next to Darcy at one of the card tables.

  She herself had no interest in playing cards and she drifted to a seat near the pianoforte to better enjoy the music. Georgiana had selected a Bach sonata with complex trills, mordents, and acciaccatura, which required superior fingerwork and confident mastery of the keys. It was an ambitious choice and Elizabeth was proud of Darcy’s sister for having the courage to attempt such a piece. She listened with appreciation as the girl persevered, moving carefully through the intricate turns and stumbling occasionally over a rapid trill…

  Elizabeth sat up straight in her chair. She had heard another player recently, stumbling in a similar fashion over the trills in the melody…

  She turned and stared at Darcy’s sister, who was still bent intently over the keys, and a suspicion began forming in her mind. Could it be…?

  Later that evening, when all had retired to bed, Elizabeth purposefully remained dressed and settled down with a book to await the execution of her plan. It was a few hours before all was still and she could be sure that the household was asleep. Carefully, Elizabeth opened her bedroom door and peered into the corridor. It was empty. On silent feet, she slipped out and hurried downstairs. Her many times travelling this route in the last few nights had given her a familiarity with the layout of the house and she moved with confidence down the darkened staircase and across the hallway to the music room. Once there, she found a corner hidden in the shadows and settled down to wait.

  The minutes ticked past. Elizabeth felt her limbs becoming stiff and cramped, and she longed to stretch them, but was afraid of revealing her position should anyone enter the room. As the clock struck one hour past midnight, she was rewarded at last by the sight of a slight figure entering the music room.

  It was a girl, dressed only in a nightgown, her hair loose and long down her back. She crossed the music room slowly, heading for the pianoforte, and as she passed in front of the windows, a beam of moonlight fell onto her features. Elizabeth caught her breath at the confirmation.

  It was Georgiana Darcy.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As Elizabeth watched, Georgiana circled the instrument and quietly lifted its lid. She pulled out the stool and sat down gracefully, flexing her fingers and placing them on the keys. Then she bent her head and began to play. The same haunting melody which had woken everyone in the last few nights filled the air.

  Elizabeth sprang up from her hiding place and hurried towards the girl, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “Georgiana!” she said in a whisper.

  The girl paused and turned her head. Elizabeth drew a sharp breath as she stared into the girl’s blank eyes. They were open, but unseeing.

  She is sleepwalking, Elizabeth realised. Georgiana was completely unaware of where she was and what she was doing.

  So this was the answer to the mystery of the ghostly player! Elizabeth had always imagined that Darcy’s sister had arrived in the music room before her in each of the previous instances, but now she realised that it was not the girl hurrying to the scene to discover the identity of the performer. The girl was the performer! Georgiana had fooled them all, though perhaps not deliberately—for the girl’s confusion in the past instances had seemed genuine. She knew not herself why she awakened in the music room for she likely had no knowledge of her journey there and her own performance on the pianoforte.

  Elizabeth strained her memory to recall the books she had read on the phenomenon of sleepwalking. From what she could remember, it frequently resulted from a disturbance of the mind or great anguish of the emotions. Furthermore, it could be harmful to startle the sleeper or attempt to wake them. It was believed best to lead them gently back to their beds and return them to slumber.

  Accordingly, she put a hand under Georgiana’s elbow and guided the girl to her feet. Darcy’s sister made no resistance and waited obediently next to Elizabeth as the latter shut the pianoforte and returned the stool to its original position. Then, together, they crossed the music room, back through the hallway and slowly up the main staircase.

  At the top of the stairs, Georgiana paused in confusion and resisted slightly. Elizabeth feared that she should awaken and possibly scream with fright—but after a moment, the girl subsided and allowed herself to be led back to her room. Several minutes later, she was safely in bed and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the girl’s chambers and shut the door. She tiptoed quietly back to her own room and was about to grasp the door handle when a deep voice so
unded behind her.

  “Would you care to explain, madam, why you should be walking the corridors in the middle of the night in such a furtive manner?”

  Elizabeth gasped and spun around. She beheld Darcy standing before her. He was clad in a navy brocade dressing gown, the simple lines of the garment seeming to only emphasise his masculinity. His dark eyes held no warmth, however, and his face was cold with anger.

  “I… I had just returned from the music room downstairs. Georgiana—”

  “Do not involve my sister in your falsehoods!” Darcy thundered, advancing towards her. “’Tis bad enough that I should be taken in by your lies, but I will not allow my sister to be tainted by your duplicity. She has been wounded enough already and would be distraught to learn of your dalliance with the very man who used her so badly.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth stared at him.

  “Oh, there is no need to play the innocent with me, Miss Bennet. I know that you are returning from an assignation with Wickham. Why else would you be fully dressed and creeping about in the middle of the night?” He gave her a look of disgust. “Your hunger for his company must be great indeed, madam, if you cannot resist another meeting so soon after your illicit encounter yesterday afternoon.”

  Elizabeth shook her head wildly and placed an urgent hand on his arm. “Sir, you are mistaken! I have had no assignation with Wickham. Surely you cannot be putting stock in servants’ gossip—”

  He shook her hand off. “You cannot deny that you did meet the highwayman alone in the night on a previous occasion? That is no servants’ gossip. I myself witnessed your encounter with Wickham at Netherfield Park; you admitted your association with him during the Netherfield ball and I saw you together again, here, by the stables not two days ago. My own eyes do not deceive me.” His mouth twisted. “To think that I had considered you so worthy of my trust that I confided the whole of Georgiana’s elopement to you… and this is how you repay that trust!”

  “No, Mr Darcy, you must believe me—”

  “Believe you? What a great fool I have already been to have ever believed in you!” Darcy said bitterly. He caught hold of her shoulders and, for a moment, Elizabeth thought that he was going to shake her. “Oh, I am aware of the arts which ladies sometimes employ for captivation but I had not thought you capable of such sly cunning. Deceit of every sort is abhorrent to me and yours is the worst kind.” His fingers were biting into her flesh now, making her almost cry out. “You knew my feelings for you and you delighted in encouraging them, whilst dallying with Wickham behind my back.”

  “That is not true!” said Elizabeth, her dismay turning to anger at his refusal to believe her. “Your blind prejudice regarding anything to do with Wickham is leading you to condemn me without proper reasoning. I am innocent of the charges you have laid at my door and yet you will not allow me to defend myself! Is this the behaviour of a gentleman?”

  “I do not—”

  The creak of a door and the sound of rustling and movement brought their discussion to an abrupt halt. Elizabeth glanced down the corridor. They had been talking in furious whispers so far, but even so, their heated exchange must have disturbed those in the rooms around them. She saw a door open and a face peer out. It was Caroline Bingley. The tall woman’s eyes widened as she saw them, then a smug smile touched her mouth as she noticed their angry expressions and hostile postures. Another door opened and one of Darcy’s guests stepped out in his nightshirt.

  “I say, Darcy… is there a problem?” he asked hesitantly.

  Elizabeth felt a wave of humiliation wash over her. Darcy had released her and taken a step back as soon as the doors had opened, but she still felt the sting of humiliation. Fury filled her. She had done nothing wrong! She should not be castigated here in public by Darcy, like some errant schoolgirl.

  She lifted her chin and gave him a cold look. “Goodnight, Mr Darcy.”

  Turning, Elizabeth opened the door to her room, stepped inside, and slammed it shut behind her. Angry tears started to her eyes, but she would not let them fall. The memory of Darcy’s words stung like the lashes of a whip. How could she have thought him amiable? Why would he not listen to her? Why could he not concede that he could be wrong about her?

  Because of his pride—his abominable pride!

  Oh, she could not stay in the same house with him any longer. Tomorrow morning, they would leave. She would insist on it. She would not remain here to be shamed and humiliated in this manner. She paced the room until her fury was spent and she fell at last, exhausted, into bed, lapsing into a deep and troubled sleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next morning dawned wet and grey, the weather seeming to match Elizabeth’s dark mood as she rose and dressed. She sought her aunt out before breakfast and begged that they change their plans, so as to leave Pemberley at once.

  “Leave?” Mrs Gardiner looked at her in surprise. “Why? Whatever is the matter, Lizzy?”

  “Oh… Nothing of consequence,” said Elizabeth weakly. “It is merely that I feel we are imposing here and it would be better to continue our touring from a different base.”

  Mrs Gardiner looked at her niece in consternation, taking in the dark circles under the eyes and the paleness of the face. She lowered her voice. “Has something occurred with Mr Darcy, Lizzy? I am aware there was a disturbance last night and I understand that several of the other guests had witnessed an unpleasant exchange between you and the master of the house. I will not press you for the details, but I must ask—has something untoward occurred between you and Mr Darcy?”

  “N-no… though I believe I was wrong in my estimation of that gentleman,” said Elizabeth. “Indeed, to remain in his presence would be extremely painful to me. I beg you, aunt, to humour my whim and allow us to leave here at once.”

  “Certainly, my love, if you should wish it,” said Mrs Gardiner, seeing Elizabeth’s genuine distress.

  “I do… I do wish it.”

  “Then I shall go and speak to your uncle immediately and we may leave directly after breakfast. It would be unseemly to hurry away before then. We should at the very least take proper leave of our host and his other guests.”

  Elizabeth conceded that her aunt was right, though her heart sank at the thought of meeting Darcy over the breakfast table. However, the act of packing her belongings improved her mood greatly and when at length she descended the stairs, she had recovered her composure enough to assume a mantle of indifference. She was relieved, nevertheless, to see that Darcy was not in the breakfast parlour. Most of the other guests were already present and they all looked at her curiously as she entered.

  Elizabeth remembered Caroline Bingley’s face peering out of her room and her expression of smug satisfaction upon seeing the midnight altercation. She steeled herself for a snide remark, but before the other woman could utter a word, Darcy strode into the room. Elizabeth was surprised to see that though he was as immaculately dressed as ever, his dark hair was rumpled, as if he had been running his hands through it in agitation.

  “Has anyone seen Georgiana?” he demanded.

  “Miss Darcy? No, I have not seen her this morning…” said Miss Annesley, getting up from the table. “Is she not about her apartments?”

  “No,” said Darcy. “Her rooms are empty and she is not in the music room, nor in the library. Indeed, the servants claim to have had no sight of her this morning.”

  Elizabeth felt a shiver of alarm as she saw the look in Darcy’s eyes. She knew better than anyone what a vulnerable state Georgiana was in; she feared that some harm should have come to the girl. Perhaps I should not have left her alone last night after I escorted her to her room, Elizabeth berated herself. Perhaps the sleepwalking was merely the first symptom of a greater anguish which had festered and grown without a comforting presence nearby.

  “Perhaps she is about the grounds?” suggested Mr Gardiner. “She could have decided to go for a morning stroll before breakfast—”

  “I ha
d already sent footmen to search for her,” said Darcy. “They reported no sign of her in the nearer gardens. It is unlike her to wander far beyond.”

  “No, indeed,” Miss Annesley agreed. “She has never ventured far from the house on her own. She would always wait to be in your company or mine.” She glanced out of the window. “And it is such a wet, dreary day today—it is unlikely she would have gone for a long walk in this weather.”

  “Could she have gone for a ride?” one of Darcy’s other guests asked.

  Darcy shook his head. “All the horses in the stables are accounted for.”

  His brow furrowed in worry and, in spite of her fury at his behaviour the night before, Elizabeth felt her heart go out to him. In his duties as a brother, she could not fault him and, her own affection for Georgiana having grown in the past few days, she empathised deeply with his concern.

  Miss Annesley looked anxious. “I shall go to Miss Darcy’s chambers now and see if I can discover any other clue as to her whereabouts,” she said, hurrying from the room.

  Darcy turned swiftly and followed her. Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. She was still angry with him and not prepared to forgive his treatment of her the night before. Nevertheless, she could not bear to sit aside and do nothing when there might be something she could contribute to help. She got up from the table and hurried after Darcy, catching up with him at the bottom of the staircase.

  “Mr Darcy…”

  He turned.

  “If I might speak to you privately…” Elizabeth gestured awkwardly.

  He regarded her silently for a moment, then gave a curt nod and led the way to his study. Once inside, he sat down behind his large mahogany desk, leaving Elizabeth to take one of the upholstered chairs opposite him. She did not know if his choice of positions was by design, but she felt the emphasis of the barrier and distance between them.

  She sat down, cleared her throat and said, “There is something… I do not know if it is of direct relevance to Georgiana’s disappearance but I feel that you ought to know…”