Caroline wondered how to begin, how best to move from these trivial pleasantries to the subject that had seemed to her to be so important, she felt duty-bound to reveal it. Again, it was Mr Darcy who came to her rescue.
Setting down his glass, he said, “Caroline, if I have understood Lizzie correctly, you had some information that you wished urgently to impart. Am I right?”
Caroline nodded, and deciding that she must use the opportunity he had provided, she mustered up her courage and said, “I must ask you to bear with me… this is not something I do easily. Indeed, I cannot recall ever having had to do anything like this before. If the need had arisen with any of our children, I am sure Fitzy would have been the one to do it. So, please forgive me if I seem to struggle a little. You may well tell me to mind my own business, Georgiana, but I did think long and hard before I came here.”
Her words seemed so unusual to both her listeners, their attention was immediately riveted. Georgiana stopped walking aimlessly about the room, and Mr Darcy had risen from his chair by the fire and walked over to the sofa where she was seated. Standing in front of her, he said quietly, “Caroline, if there is anything we need to know, anything that affects a member of the family, you must feel free to tell us.”
She knew she had to speak now. “It’s about Mr Adam Fraser,” she said slowly and deliberately, watching for Georgiana’s response. It came instantly.
“What about Mr Fraser? What has he done?” Her voice was unusually sharp and defensive.
“It is not about what he has done,” said Caroline. “It is about who he is.”
“What do you mean? We know who he is. He is from a very old and respectable Scottish family,” Georgiana declared.
Caroline took a deep breath. “He is not from an old and respectable Scottish family. That is what he claims to be.”
“Are you saying his name is not Fraser?” asked Mr Darcy.
“It is, but it has nothing to do with an old and respectable Scottish family. I understand that he is the son of a seaman from California, who made good during the gold rush, and went to Australia, where he made even more money, which he invested in property. Adam Fraser inherited a fortune, but unlike his father, he has not increased it; rather he has squandered quite a lot of it.”
“How do you know all this is true?” demanded Georgiana.
“My informant is Daniel Faulkner. He came to see me yesterday, because, he says, he was beginning to worry about some of the things Mr Fraser was doing and saying. He was concerned because they were not entirely honest. I cannot believe that he would lie about his friend.”
“His friend?” Georgiana’s tone was scathing. “How could he be his friend and yet say such things about him?”
“Georgiana, Daniel is Anna Bingley’s brother; he felt that his loyalty was to this family rather than to Adam Fraser, who is a complete stranger to us. He introduced Mr Fraser to us, and when he saw that he was becoming more than an acquaintance and was being accepted by members of this family as a friend and confidante, he thought it was his duty to let the truth about him be known.”
“And why should we believe him? Why is it not possible that he is mistaken or has some other motive to make us think ill of Mr Fraser?” Georgiana asked.
Mr Darcy intervened to say, “What possible motive could he have to do such a thing?” and Caroline added, “None that I know of. He did not speak out about Mr Fraser in order to promote himself in my estimation; he was afraid that if we remained in ignorance, believing as you did that Adam Fraser was the son of a respectable Scottish family, he might have insinuated himself into your confidence, and things may happen that you might later regret. I was very reluctant to come to you with this information, but he pleaded with me to do so.”
Georgiana was silent, but Mr Darcy asked, “Apart from the matter of his father and the business of his wasted fortune, did Daniel Faulkner tell you anything else about Fraser that reflects upon his character?”
Caroline replied, “He did, not in great detail, because I felt that if you wished to know more, then you should speak to him directly. I agreed only to alert you to the fact that Mr Fraser was not what he claims to be.”
“What more did he say?” asked Georgiana, still unconvinced.
“That Mr Fraser, having gambled much of his money away, is in England looking to wed a wealthy young woman; Daniel was afraid that he may have taken you and Virginia in.”
Georgiana rose from her chair and said in a bitter voice, “I knew it. It becomes clear to me now. Daniel Faulkner is jealous of Adam Fraser; he must have had hopes of securing Virginia for himself, and seeing that she clearly preferred Mr Fraser, who is younger and better-looking, in his disappointment, he means to defame him by putting out some outrageous slander…”
Even before Caroline could protest, Mr Darcy interrupted his sister, “Georgiana, that is unfair and completely unfounded. Caroline is right; Daniel Faulkner has no reason to slander Fraser. Besides, you have no evidence that he is jealous of him; he has shown no particular interest in Virginia. I believe you ought to take what he has said seriously and think how Virginia might be advised to be cautious in her dealings with Fraser. We know nothing about him except what he has told us.”
Despite her implicit trust in her brother’s wisdom, Georgiana was unwilling to accept that she had been mistaken in her judgment of Adam Fraser. Her inexperience in the world, brought about chiefly through her total reliance upon the guidance and judgment of first her brother and then her beloved husband, both exemplary men, had not fitted her to make such decisions.
“I cannot believe it,” she said. “He has been so open and frank with us; why, only the other day, when he was here, he was telling us about his uncle who has this wonderful deer park in the highlands…”
Caroline smiled. “Indeed, I believe Daniel Faulkner heard him telling that tale, and it was the fact that everyone appeared to believe it without question that concerned him most. There is no uncle with a wonderful deer park in the highlands. Daniel feared that Fraser would draw us all in with his tales of his Scottish heritage and great damage may be done to this family, if he kept silent. Since he had introduced Mr Fraser to us, Daniel feels responsible; he believed it was his duty to alert us to the deception being practised upon us.”
Mr Darcy, who had not heard the tale of the deer park himself, said his wife had mentioned it, but since he hated the idea of shooting such magnificent creatures, he had not paid much attention to the story.
“I am more concerned to uncover the truth about his character rather than his fictitious Scottish connections. If he is here on false pretences, it would be bad enough, but if he is also a blackguard and a fortune hunter, then I think some serious action is called for. In the first instance, Virginia must be told.”
Georgiana seemed unwilling to accept it. “Virginia will never believe it. In all these years, he is the first gentleman in whom she has shown the slightest interest. She likes him and enjoys his company.”
“Georgiana, my dear, there is no certainty that he is a gentleman at all,” said her brother quietly, and turning to Caroline, he asked, “Would Daniel Faulkner be prepared to provide me with more detailed information—names, dates, and places—so I can verify some of the facts about this man?”
Caroline agreed to ask him. “He may agree. I think if he felt that you were serious about it, he would be willing to tell you more than he has told me. I was not keen to hear too much, since it did not involve my family directly. What I did learn was sufficient to convince me that I had to warn you. I know Fitzy would have done so. I feel confident that if you were to meet with him, Mr Darcy, he would be willing to reveal much more.”
“Well,” said Mr Darcy, “we might make use of the time that Fraser is visiting his Scottish uncle, or whoever else he may be, to see what more we can discover about him. Caroline, would you be so kind as to send a message to Daniel Faulkner? Tell him I will meet with him tomorrow afternoon at Camden House. I should pref
er that the meeting not be at Pemberley, lest we alert Virginia or Mr Fraser. Georgiana, my dear, I suggest you say nothing of this to anyone until I have met with Daniel Faulkner.”
Georgiana appeared to agree with some reluctance, while Caroline undertook to send word to Mr Faulkner, relieved indeed that Mr Darcy was at least willing to pay some attention to the information she had given them, even though his sister preferred to pretend there was no truth in it.
Chapter Eight
Returning home, Caroline found Rachel waiting for her, anxiety etched upon her face. Having promised to tell her daughter everything, Caroline was as good as her word. When they were alone in her room, she related in some detail the matters Daniel Faulkner had told her and the manner in which she had conveyed the information to Mr Darcy and Mrs Grantley.
“Mr Faulkner felt so strongly about it, he came to see me, to ask if I would speak to Georgiana and open her eyes to the truth about Fraser. From his observations over the previous week, he had concluded that both Virginia and her mother were completely taken in by his charm and general savoir faire. His account convinced me that it was my duty, however unpleasant, to go to Pemberley. I had hoped to see Lizzie, but she was unwell, and I had the daunting task of trying to convince Mr Darcy and Georgiana.”
Rachel listened, eyes wide, hardly saying a word, until her mother said, “Fortuitously, Virginia had been invited to spend a few days with the Bingleys at Ashford Park and the man himself is gone to Scotland, left last morning I was told, to visit his respectable relatives in the highlands!”
At that, Rachel put her hand up to her mouth to suppress a cry of disbelief before saying, “No, Mama, he is not gone to Scotland; I saw him in the woods yesterday, with a young girl. They were on the other side of the river, and I thought I recognised him, but I could not be sure, until I heard him laugh. I knew then that it was definitely Adam Fraser.”
Caroline was shocked. “But if it was, then the young woman could not have been anyone we know, because Virginia is with the Bingleys at Ashford Park.”
“It was certainly not Virginia,” said Rachel. “The girl, though I could not see her face, was much shorter than Virginia and had long, brown hair.”
This new information made the whole sorry business much worse than before, and Caroline decided that it had to be conveyed to Mr Faulkner before he met with Mr Darcy on the morrow. Rachel agreed, but begged that her mother should be the one to tell him, and a servant was despatched immediately to Camden House, inviting Daniel to dine with them that evening.
“Since we are compelled to discuss unpleasant matters, the least we can do is enjoy a good meal together,” said Caroline as she went to consult the cook about the menu.
Daniel Faulkner arrived at the appointed time to find both ladies waiting for him in the parlour. Caroline had decided that it would be best to get the unpleasant business over and done with first, rather than spoil a perfectly good meal. Besides, it would not do to be talking about Virginia and Adam Fraser with the servants in the room. During her stay, Virginia had not been the most popular of house guests, and the maids, who were heartily sick of her demands and complaints, were unlikely to resist the chance to gossip about her.
Which was why Caroline, having waited until Daniel had sat down with a drink in his hand, said quietly, “Mr Faulkner, I have a message for you from Mr Darcy. Following my visit to Pemberley, he has expressed a wish to meet with you, if you are agreeable, at Camden House tomorrow. I need not tell you that it was not possible to convince his sister Georgiana of the truth of the information I had from you, but Mr Darcy is keen to know the facts. Will you meet him?”
“Of course. If there is anything he wishes to ask me, I should be happy to meet him,” he replied, and Caroline was clearly relieved.
“Thank you, I was hoping very much that you would agree,” she said.
“How could I not? I have felt in the last week a most uncomfortable sense of guilt as I watched Fraser spin a web of fiction about himself and his activities. At first it seemed he was about his usual tricks; he has made a habit of pretence and conceit when he is in society, but I fear it is becoming more serious and there are those who may be hurt if nothing is said. If anything I can do will help Mr Darcy prevent that from happening, I should be delighted.” There was no doubting his sincerity.
Later, Caroline, waiting until Rachel had left the room, told him about the couple she had seen in the woods, and he showed no sign of surprise. “I am sorry to say that I am not surprised; it is exactly the kind of subterfuge Fraser uses. He will pretend he is going away on business, but his business is of the kind he cannot reveal in respectable company. Yet he will return and play the gentleman again with the greatest of ease.”
“This girl he was with, Rachel described her as being much shorter than Virginia and with long brown hair. Can you think who she might be?” Caroline asked.
Daniel Faulkner looked pensive. “I cannot say for certain, but he has spoken of a girl he calls Rosie, probably a young person from the village…”
“Rosie! Good God! That could be Rosie Higgins, the innkeeper’s daughter,” Caroline exclaimed, interrupting him. “She is very pretty and has long brown hair… She helps her father at the inn, serving at table. If it is Rosie and Fraser has compromised her in any way, he will not escape her father’s fury.”
Daniel Faulkner looked wretched. “I wish I had never brought him into Derbyshire. I feel this is all my fault.”
Caroline tried to reassure him. “It is not your fault; Mr Fraser is a grown man and you are not his keeper. Besides, you could not have foreseen the circumstances in which he and Virginia were to meet; so please do not blame yourself. Whilst you meet with Mr Darcy tomorrow, I will send a message to Rosie’s mother.”
Presently, Rachel returned; dinner was served, and the conversation changed completely.
Cook had produced a simple but delectable feast, with fish, poultry, and home-grown vegetables and fruit, together with a good wine from the late colonel’s cellar. It was rarely, since her husband’s death, that they had entertained anyone at dinner, and Caroline could not help feeling a little downcast as she recalled with understandable sadness his renowned hospitality and remembered the many pleasurable evenings they had spent in the company of friends and relations over the years of their marriage. Apart from acknowledging Mr Faulkner’s appreciation of the meal, she was less inclined to chat, and consequently Rachel, sensible of her mother’s feelings and her duty to their guest, decided it was up to her to keep the conversation going.
Not knowing a great deal about the antipodes and even less about the place called Ballarat in Australia, where Daniel Faulkner was said to have made his fortune, Rachel supposed that it was best to start by asking a general geographical question. After they had finished the first course, she asked, “Mr Faulkner, what sort of place is Ballarat? I mean, is it a city like Derby or Birmingham?” she asked and was surprised when Daniel Faulkner laughed, before he answered, “I would not call it a city, Miss Rachel; it would be much more like a small country town now. However, when I was first in Ballarat about twenty years ago, it was just a small settlement on the edge of the diggings.”
“The diggings?” she was puzzled by the term.
“Hmm… where the prospectors were living in tents and digging for gold.”
This time it was Rachel who laughed before she asked, “And did you dig for gold?”
He nodded and said, “I did, along with hundreds of others, and what’s more, I found some, too.”
“Lots of it? Enough to make you rich?” asked Rachel, fascinated by these revelations, but her mother, who had heard the conversation, interrupted gently before he could answer.
“Rachel, my dear,” she said reprovingly, “you ought not be asking Mr Faulkner such questions.”
But he intervened with a smile and said, “I have no objection to her questions at all; please ask whatever you wish to know, Miss Rachel. The answer to your question is no, not lots
of it, not enough to make me very wealthy, but enough to enable me to do something more with my life than prospecting for gold.”
Rachel was keen to know more about life on the goldfields, but with her mother now alerted, she was a little less direct in her next question. “And did the other people in Ballarat not mind that hundreds of prospectors were digging up their countryside?” she asked, and he laughed gently and said, “It is unlikely, because it is not like England, with little villages and towns that have been settled for centuries. It’s an enormous country, much of which has not been explored, and Ballarat was just a settlement on the edge of an area where gold had been discovered in 1851. When it became known, men from many parts of the world rushed there.”
“To dig for gold?” she asked.
“Indeed. They had to apply for a licence and stake their claim and dig.”
“And did they all find gold, Mr Faulkner?” asked Caroline.
“Many did, in varying quantities; some found very little after much hard work; others were lucky.”
“Were you one of the lucky ones?” asked Rachel, causing her mother to protest and Daniel Faulkner to laugh again.
“I suppose I was, in that I spent less than three years in Ballarat, but they were very eventful years. I don’t mean just for myself; I was certainly lucky with my prospecting and the partners with whom I worked, but it was also a most interesting period in the history of the town and indeed the colony of Victoria.”
Intrigued, Caroline joined Rachel in asking more about the colony, and Mr Faulkner was happy to satisfy their curiosity. “I arrived in Ballarat in the middle of 1852, not long after gold had been discovered just outside the area at a place called Eureka. There were already many hundreds of men there, but hundreds more were arriving every week. I lodged at an inn at first, and having met a couple of men who invited me to join them, I applied for a licence and we set off for the diggings.”
Legacy of Pemberley (The Pemberley Chronicles; Pride and Prejudice Sequel Series) Page 22