In replying to her aunt, whose advice she had sought, Lizzie seemed unsure of her feelings:
Dearest Aunt, while I must thank you for your very timely and wise advice, I am already preparing for you another query, equally
First, let me say that I entirely agree that there is nothing to be gained by pursuing the matter of my Uncle Julian's marriage and Aunt Josie's conduct with Mr Jones. But surely, dear Aunt, there must be some way in which the right persons must bear the opprobrium for what happened?
Our family, it seems to me, appears ready to forget it ever happened.
Little Anthony is settled with us, Uncle Julian is gone to France, and that is an end of it, as far as they are concerned.
What is to happen to poor Aunt Josie? Is she to go on living with Mr Barrett indefinitely? Is there no way in which those, who by manipulation and deceit inveigled her into this destructive adventure, which has forever tainted the lives of her husband and son, not to mention all her other family connections, is there no means by which they may be brought to book?
While I leave you with this puzzle, let me say that, contrary to what may seem to be the case, I am not eager to begin some vengeful crusade against Mr Jones, even though I find his very presence in this area disgusting in the extreme. So you, dear Aunt, need have no fear that I will act impetuously and confront him; I am too timid for such an undertaking.
But, I do live in hope that he and his friend will get their just deserts and pray that, God willing, I may live to see it.
Meanwhile, I have much more cheerful news for you; see, I am not all gloom and despair. There are many good and decent people and pleasant things may yet happen to take our minds away from the likes of Barrett and Jones.
The day after tomorrow is the day of the dance, given by Mr Carr at Rushmore Farm, and we are all attending. It promises to be an enormous affair, with everyone for miles around being invited. Mr Carr's American upbringing, which makes him astonishingly generous and hospitable, appears to have extinguished totally the traits of his more parsimonious Irish ancestors.
But I do not wish to appear critical, for indeed, I am not. He is a very kind, great-hearted man and my brother Darcy, who counts him as a dear friend, will die for him, if need be.
There is one more thing and I do wish you could have been here to witness it: Darcy and I are to open the dancing!
Now is that not something to celebrate?
The letter was left unfinished for the moment…
When Emma Wilson received it some days later, it had been concluded after the dance at Rushmore Farm.
"I certainly wish I could have been there," she said, and added to herself,"I would also like very much to know a little more about this Mr Michael Carr.
What manner of man is he?"
Her husband heard her question, put down his paper, and said,"Do you mean the young American who has purchased the Camden stud? Darcy Gardiner seems to know him pretty well," he said, and Emma shook her head, for she doubted if applying to young Darcy would get her very much more information than she had received from her niece already. To judge by the letter, neither Darcy Gardiner nor his sister was entirely impartial, when it came to Mr Carr.
It was a fact amply demonstrated at the dance, where Mr Carr, grateful for all they had done to ensure the success of the occasion, had made a brief speech to his guests, thanking them for their attendance and expressing his appreciation of the help he had received, especially from the Gardiner family. They were, he told the assembled company, his honoured guests tonight.
Invitations had gone out to all the families—gentry, middle class, and those from the farms and villages on either side of his property. Most people had accepted, whether out of appreciation or curiosity, it was hard to say. There was, therefore, a great crowd of people gathered at the farm and, with food and drink in such generous quantities, there was plenty for everyone to do. There were fireworks and country dancing on the lawn for everyone to enjoy.
Guests who wanted mainly to eat and drink had no complaints, while those who wished to dance or watch others dance found themselves accommodated in a large, tastefully appointed room, with a small but well-practised orchestra providing appropriate music. When Darcy Gardiner and his sister, who even he admitted was looking very lovely that evening, opened the dancing, the onlookers were so enchanted, they applauded and Cassy, her parents, and her Aunt Jane were justly proud of the young pair.
Later, Mr Carr, who had danced the sedate first quadrille with a young lady from the neighbourhood, sought out Lizzie and led her to the centre of the floor. Lizzie and her brother had been teaching him the intricacies of some of the new European dances for some weeks now, and she was about to discover the success or otherwise of their efforts.
After they had successfully negotiated one simple popular dance, the orchestra paused and struck up the opening bars of a Viennese waltz. Mr Carr turned to Lizzie and said softly,"Miss Gardiner, you are about to witness my first serious attempt at the waltz. I trust you are adequately prepared for the consequences."
Lizzie laughed, aware that they were one of only three couples on the floor and the cynosure of all eyes."For shame, Mr Carr, after all the practice you have had, I expect you to waltz perfectly well tonight or you will have to explain how it is that a man who can perform that silly barn dance they call a polka cannot master something as graceful as a waltz," she said, hoping to tease him into responding.
He smiled but said nothing. However, when they began to dance, her eyes widened in surprise, for he was leading her smoothly in the most perfect waltz. As they went round the floor, she declared,"You are a fraud, Mr Carr; this is too good to be the result of a few weeks' practice. Either you are a practiced dancer and were simply teasing us or you have had other lessons."
He promised faithfully that he'd had no other teachers than her brother and herself.
"In which case," she said,"you must be the best student of dance in the country. Truly, this is good, very good."
He smiled again and remained modestly silent as they danced, and Lizzie decided she would simply enjoy the experience. When the music ended, he led her to her seat and thanked her with a deep bow. He was elated at her words, however lightly spoken, and as if to underline them, there was applause for the couple from those observing them around the room.
In the days that followed, many members of the family would speculate about the night of the dance at Rushmore Farm and wonder at the consequences that flowed from it. The party from Pemberley had been very impressed with the success of the occasion. Recalling that Mr Carr had thanked the Gardiners at the outset, Elizabeth and Jane put it down to the talent of the Gardiners, who were always good at that sort of thing. Mr Darcy expressed his admiration for the splendid organisation and generous hospitality of their host.
Cassy thought her children had excelled themselves, especially Darcy and Lizzie, to whom congratulations must be due, she said, and her husband declared that Mr Carr had proved an excellent host. Young Darcy Gardiner thought he had never seen so many pretty girls in the one room before and wondered where, among the dales, they had all been hiding. While Laura Ann, who had fallen asleep in the carriage on the way home, woke up momentarily to tell them that she had heard the people watching the dancing say that Miss Lizzie Gardiner was the loveliest girl in the room. She then went right back to sleep again.
And Lizzie?Well, Lizzie blushed at the compliment but kept her thoughts mostly to herself, though confessing, when pressed, that she had enjoyed herself more than she had expected to, though she was very tired and was looking forward to bed.
However, when she got home and into bed, she said a little prayer.
"Dear God," she prayed,"please do not let me make a fool of myself, or make a terrible mistake as my Aunt Josie did. Please let me think clearly and do what is right, because, dear God, I do believe that I am in very great danger of falling in love with Mr Carr!"
Having made the confession to herself as well as
to the Almighty, she kept turning it around in her mind. Whichever way she considered the proposition, she could not deny its truth.
Unable to sleep, she rose and concluded her letter to her aunt, Emma Wilson.
The dance was a great success. I do not believe there was anyone who did not enjoy themselves. As for Mr Carr, he has won universal praise for his good humour and generous hospitality. It has been, for him, an exceedingly successful introduction to the people in this part of the county. Those who knew him are confirmed in their good opinion of him and those who did not are most pleasantly
As for me, dear Aunt, before you ask, yes I do like him, I think I like him very much; he is like no other gentleman I have met in my life.
Your loving niece,
Lizzie.
Following the dance, the remaining weeks of waning Summer slipped swiftly by. During most of this time, Cassandra was increasingly occupied with matters pertaining to the Pemberley Estate and, in particular, providing to her father the information he needed to make decisions about the work set out for the following year.
Mr Darcy's steward and manager were frequently surprised at the extent of her knowledge and the depth of her understanding of their work, as well as the ease with which she could deal with their tenants. They were forgetting, no doubt, that as a young girl, Cassy had spent a great deal of time with her father, riding all over the estate, learning all that she needed to know, so she could teach her young brother Julian everything she had acquired, preparing him for the day when he would take over his inheritance.
Meanwhile, young Lizzie, who saw less of her mother than before, found herself alone, with a multitude of thoughts and feelings that had begun to preoccupy her mind. Strangely, almost every one of them seemed to involve Mr Carr. The gentleman had called on the family a day or two after the dance, ostensibly to thank them personally for their contribution to the success of the function and, finding only Lizzie and Laura Ann at home, he had taken tea and, having sat with them for half an hour or so, departed.
Lizzie was grateful that he had made no particular difference in his treatment of herself and her sister. She was anxious to avoid the questions that might follow, if Laura Ann were to become aware of her feelings. And yet, she wondered whether, if he had any particular feelings for her, he might not have indicated it by some discreet sign, a look, a glance, or a word, perhaps taking the opportunity to speak when Laura Ann had gone to order tea. He had not and that set up yet another worrying trend of thought in her mind, which restlessly returned to it over and over again. Was she imagining it all?
Thereafter, they did not hear from him for almost a week, leaving Lizzie in a state of dreadful uncertainty, wondering if he had been looking for some encouragement from her at their last meeting and, not finding it, gone away believing her to be indifferent to him. She had no way of knowing.
* * *
As the days passed, with no one to confide in, since even her brother Darcy was once again gone to London, Lizzie was beginning to fret and even her mother had noticed. She appeared to have lost her appetite and seemed restless, which was most unusual.
"Perhaps you need a holiday, my dear. Would you like me to write to Aunt Emma and ask if you may spend a month with them in Kent? I am sure they would love to have you, and the countryside around Standish Park is at its very best at this time of year. I wish I could have had some time to spare; I'd go with you," said her mother.
Alarmed at the prospect of being sent away to Kent, while the object of her interest remained in Derbyshire, much as she loved her Aunt Emma, Lizzie leapt up from her chair and declared that she was perfectly well and did not need a holiday.
"I do not need to go away, Mama; I am not unwell. I think I need some fresh air and exercise; I shall walk down to the village and get some ribbon for Laura's bonnet. I have been putting off doing it, and she will soon begin to doubt that I mean to do it at all," she said and ran upstairs to get her bonnet and cape.
Her mother, who was about to leave for Pemberley with her younger daughter, smiled and said nothing, but decided she would write to Emma Wilson anyway. Lizzie did look as if she needed a change, she thought, she had worked very hard in the past fortnight and was probably tired. She was certain Emma Wilson would be happy to have her to stay.
Waiting until the carriage taking her mother and sister had turned out of the drive, Lizzie put on her bonnet and left the house, walking briskly down the road to the village, choosing it rather than the path through the woods, in the hope she might meet someone who might be coming up towards the house. If that person turned out to be Mr Carr, it would seem like a happy coincidence, she thought.
Sadly, she met no one of any significance, for the road was deserted, save for a couple of farm labourers and a neighbouring family taking their chickens to market. The children waved to her cheerfully and Lizzie, despite her own rather melancholy mood, waved back.
Once in the village, she spent only a little time at the haberdashery shop, buying the ribbon for Laura's bonnet, before going into one of her favourite haunts, Mrs Hardy's bookstore. Mrs Hardy's daughter Harriet had been at church on Sunday and, after the service was over, she had stopped to mention that they had recently received copies of a new novel by Mrs Gaskell, entitled Sylvia's Lovers. Harriet said she expected it would be very popular among the ladies of the district.
At first, Lizzie had not thought she would be sufficiently interested to want to purchase it, but once in the village, she looked for an excuse to linger a while and the bookshop provided the best possible reason.
She went in and Harriet was helping another customer, while Mrs Hardy was nowhere to be seen. While she waited for Harriet to be free, Lizzie browsed among the shelves, idly reading the titles and picking up a copy of the new book.
The door of the shop opened and someone entered. Though she could not see the person, by the sound of boots on the floor and the swish of a cape, she knew it was a man. Lizzie did not turn around at once, even though some instinct told her he was known to her. Believing it to be Mr Carr, she thought, Well, he can surely see me here; if he does not wish to speak with me, I shall not put myself forward to notice him.
At that very moment, Harriet, freed from her duties, addressed her by name and asked if she would like some help. Before Lizzie could answer, the man, who had been standing a few feet away with his back to her, turned abruptly and said,"Miss Gardiner, I see you are as interested in reading books as I am in publishing them."
Startled, since his was the very last voice she had expected or wanted to hear, Lizzie literally jumped."Mr Jones, I had no idea you were still in the area…" she muttered, trying to say something sensible, without wishing to give him any excuse to believe that she was willing to engage in a conversation. But Jones was not to be easily dissuaded, and having waited for her to make her purchase, without buying anything himself, he followed her out of the shop into the street.
Shaken, Lizzie was at a loss for words. She remembered all the advice her Aunt Emma had given her, and her mind was racing to find a plausible excuse that would let her get away from him without giving offence, for she feared what he might do or say, should she anger him. It soon became abundantly clear to her, from his persistence, that he was determined to walk with her and there was very little she could do to be rid of him, as he strode down the street beside her as though they were friends.
He kept asking her questions, which she answered mechanically, briefly, giving little thought to their substance. When she fell silent for a few minutes, he tried again, asking if he may see what book she had purchased at the bookshop. Once again, Lizzie would have liked to have refused, telling him it was none of his business, but instead, she felt intimidated and meekly handed him the parcel, which he untied and, taking out the book, declared in a loud, jocular voice,"Sylvia's Lovers, eh? There's an interesting choice! Now I know that you are not as innocent as you pretend to be, Miss Gardiner.
"When I met you with Josie, I used to think y
ou a regular little bluestocking, but I know different now. But do not worry, your secret is safe with me; I shall not tell on you. I find it very interesting indeed, you should be reading Mrs Gaskell… it is not exactly the type of novel…" and he broke off, because as they reached a street corner, Lizzie had retrieved her book and, leaving him standing, raced across the road, almost running into the path of a vehicle and through a crowd of children, into the saddlery, where a moment ago, she had caught sight of Mr Carr passing through the doorway.
As she had sought desperately for a means of escape from the unwelcome company of Mr Jones, Mr Carr's tall figure and familiar hat had attracted her eye and, without a second thought, she had decided to approach him.
As she rushed in, breathless, her bonnet pushed back by the breeze as she ran, her face flushed with the exertion, Mr Carr turned around and, seeing her thus, spoke with more concern than politeness."Miss Gardiner!What on earth is the matter, are you not well?" and as he spoke, he signalled to the saddler's apprentice to fetch a chair for the young lady.
Lizzie could not speak at first, and when she tried, her words were quite unintelligible. To avoid other customers intruding upon her, the saddler's wife, a kind woman, presuming she was unwell, asked if the young lady would like to sit in the back room a while and Lizzie, though protesting she was not ill, gratefully accepted her invitation.
Once there, she sat down and was given a cup of hot, sweet tea. It helped alleviate the shock she had suffered and she blurted out her fears to Mr Carr, recounting the incident with Mr Jones and her acute distress at being accosted by him on this as well as a previous occasion.
As he listened, looking concerned and surprised, she said,"I know I should probably have pretended that I was unaffected, but I could not; each time he spoke, I was reminded most forcefully of the way he and his friend Mr Barrett had shamefully deceived my dear Uncle Julian and dishonoured poor Aunt Josie. I could not bear it; clearly he thought he could just address me in the shop or saunter up to me in the street and engage me in casual conversation." Her voice was shaking as she continued,"It was as though he thought I felt no outrage at all at the way they had behaved and would be prepared to encourage his advances."
Mr. Darcy's Daughter Page 18