Postscript from Pemberley

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by Rebecca Ann Collins


  Jessica, seeing his anger and astonishment increase at every moment as he contemplated the situation, knew it was vital that he learn the truth, not from her but from Kathryn herself. Else there was bound to be a series of misunderstandings and suspicions, which would seep like a poison through their friendship and destroy it.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “Darcy, I think it is time you spoke directly to Kathryn. It is neither fair to her nor sensible for you to continue this speculation. Let me go to Colley Dale and fetch her. We will meet you at Lady Anne's gazebo, by the yew tree overlooking the river. There we may all speak openly and without interruption or fear of being overheard.”

  Darcy thought this was a sound idea, but there was a question on which he wished to be quite clear before he agreed to the meeting.

  “Jessica, before you go to her, I need to have you understand one thing. I do not wish Miss O'Hare to believe that I have taken it upon myself to make all these enquiries for some sinister reason. It will only increase her wretchedness, if that is how she feels,” and on being assured by his cousin that “wretched” was possibly too mild a word to describe Kathryn's present state of mind, he continued, “Well then, it is neither fair nor appropriate to add to her tribulation with some inquisition into her past. It would only make matters worse for her.”

  Jessica threw her hands up in frustration. “Then what is to be done? How is this matter to be resolved?”

  At first, Darcy made no answer. He walked up and down the room as if in deep thought, his brow furrowed, shaking his head as though every good idea had deserted him. Then, he stopped and approached Jessica. Standing directly in front of her, he said, “Jessica, I have an idea; you must go to Miss O'Hare and tell her exactly what I told you when I first saw you this afternoon and revealed what I had learned from the landlord at Bakewell.”

  “Do you mean I should tell her that you are already aware that Hartley-Brown is trying to find her?”

  “Yes, and that I fear she is in some danger.”

  “How will that help?”

  “Tell her that, having discussed the matter, we have decided that she should be alerted to the situation. Tell her I am concerned and that I wish to be better informed, should the need arise for me to have Hartley-Brown removed from the neighbourhood by the police, so he will no longer harass her with his attentions.

  “She may then decide that it is best to reveal anything that is pertinent to us. That should convince her also of your sincerity in not wishing to divulge to me what she has told you in confidence. Yet it will allow her to reveal such matters as she feels it is necessary for me to know. What do you think?” he asked, hoping for her acquiescence.

  After a few moments' reflection, Jessica agreed to the scheme.

  “It sounds good; it may work. We shall have to see,” she said and, going to her room to fetch her cloak and bonnet, bade him farewell and left to make the journey to Colley Dale, leaving Darcy to return to the stables and, as agreed, proceed on horseback to the meeting place.

  The gazebo, where they had arranged to meet, stood on the edge of the Pemberley estate. Built on a rising piece of ground, in the lee of an old yew tree, it had been designed for Lady Anne Darcy, mother of Fitzwilliam Darcy, the present master of Pemberley. Lady Anne was said to have come there almost daily, when the weather was fine, to enjoy the vista across the river and write or read poetry.

  It was a pretty, albeit melancholy, spot, since it was generally known that Lady Anne Darcy, who had died relatively young, had left several notebooks, containing scraps of poetry, touching little verses which dwelt mainly upon the beauty of her surroundings and the loneliness of her life.

  Darcy Gardiner had been waiting awhile, when the small carriage from Pemberley came into view on the road below him.

  The two ladies alighted and began to make their way up the bank, towards the gazebo. Darcy went down to assist them, helping each one in turn, supporting them until they reached the clearing on the edge of the woods, in which the gazebo stood.

  Jessica had clambered up easily, being younger and somewhat lighter in frame than her companion. Kathryn, her face partly hidden by her bonnet, made slower progress. Her breath came quickly as she took his outstretched hand and climbed the last few steps to reach firm ground.

  Finally, they were all seated on the old stone seats—a little breathless, their faces flushed from their exertions.

  Jessica was the first to break the silence.

  “Darcy, I have related to Kathryn all that you have told me today, of Mr Hartley-Brown and his activities in the district. Kathryn wishes to acquaint us with some facts of which we were not aware. I have told her she need not do so, but Kathryn insists…”

  At which Darcy stood up and said in a very quiet voice, “Miss O'Hare, pray do not feel under any compulsion to speak of any matters that are not our direct concern. Such associations and friendships which you may have had in the past should in no way matter to us now.

  “My concern has been primarily for your safety; that you may be importuned, harassed, and even placed in some danger by this man's efforts to see you, and that his widespread enquiries in the area, in which he mentions your name and that of your family, may become an embarrassment to yourself. I have some fears also, that if he discovers where you live, he may lie in wait for you and try to confront you as you walk to and from the school. I confess, I have based this only on the sundry pieces of information I have received; it is possible that I am entirely wrong about his intentions and you, knowing the man, will be able to reassure me on that score. “

  Kathryn listened, hearing his words through a fog of her own confused feelings. Jessica already knew some of what she was about to reveal, yet now, she had determined, was the time to be completely open and honest with them, especially in view of their kindness to her.

  There was no other way.

  At first, when she began to speak, her voice was hesitant and soft, but Jessica seated beside her, lent her strength and resolution, as she endeavoured to explain the circumstances of her association with Mr Hartley-Brown.

  “I wish it were possible, Mr Gardiner, as you have suggested, to reassure you, but as you will understand when you have heard what I have to say, I am unable to do so, because I could not vouch for Mr Hartley-Brown in any way at all,” she said, and there was great sadness in her voice.

  It was not an easy story to tell, yet she told it, making no attempt to conceal the facts or spare herself. Anxious above all, to be believed by both Jessica, for whom she felt warm affection, and Darcy Gardiner, whom she regarded with the deepest respect, Kathryn laid the facts before them in her own unembellished words.

  “My own knowledge of Mr Gordon Hartley-Brown goes back to the days when I was in Belgium, studying music and French. During one of our Summer vacations, two of my fellow students and I were visiting Paris, staying at the home of a Mrs Dickinson, who had a villa just outside of town. There I first made the acquaintance of Lady Denny and her cousin Mr Hartley-Brown. He was then her escort, and they were both close friends of Mrs Dickinson.

  “Our hostess, knowing I was soon to return to England, very kindly introduced me, and Lady Denny invited me to apply for the position of governess to her three children. She was very keen, she said, for them to be taught something of the arts and literature. I was pleased to be asked and agreed to consider it.

  “Mr Hartley-Brown seemed a pleasant enough young man, very attentive to his cousin Lady Denny. I saw no more of him and had no further contact with him until a year or fifteen months later. Having returned from Europe to the convent school at East Grinstead, where I had been very happy, I taught there for several months.

  “One morning, I was called to attend the Sister Superior, who said that a letter had been received from Lady Denny requesting a character reference for me. I was surprised, since I had made no application for the position, but also, I will admit, quite flattered that Lady Denny had remembered me.

  “The referenc
e was, I believe, gladly given, and a week or two later, a letter arrived inviting me to present myself at Lindfield Towers.”

  At this point, Kathryn looked around at her listeners and said lightly, “I will not take up your time with details of the occasion. Suffice it to say that I did as requested, was obviously judged to be satisfactory, and was engaged for a period of two years to teach the three children of Lord and Lady Denny. There were few questions asked, which I thought was due to the quality of the reference given by the Sister Superior.

  “The conditions were reasonable and the remuneration generous, with the added attraction of living on the Lindfield Estate, which is a place of considerable beauty, though it is not as grand as Pemberley. My three young charges, at least at first glance, did not present any unusual problems, and I was generally regarded by my friends at the convent as being exceedingly fortunate to have secured such a position.”

  She smiled, and Darcy asked, “And did it live up to expectations?”

  “Indeed, it did, at first. The children, I discovered, were not as keen to learn as I was to teach them—they were not nasty or incorrigible, just rather wild and untaught, but Lady Denny left them mostly to me, seeing them only twice a day, after breakfast and before bed.”

  “And Hartley-Brown?” he prompted.

  “During my first six months at Lindfield Towers, though he visited occasionally, I hardly met him at all. However, later that year, he came more often and stayed longer. Lord Denny was often from home at Westminster when the Lords were sitting or in Scotland, where he had investments in ship-building. Mr Hartley-Brown, as her Ladyship's cousin, seemed to have a special status at Lindfield; he appeared to feel it was his duty to be there more often to support Lady Denny and the family in the absence of her husband.

  “During this period, he began to pay me more attention than he had done on his previous visits. Some of my normal routines too were altered either at his behest or that of her Ladyship.”

  “How do you mean?” asked Darcy, not wishing to pry, but keen to understand her situation.

  Kathryn explained, “I generally took all my meals with the children and only joined the family if invited to do so on some special occasion. But in time, and I became aware later that it was at his suggestion, Lady Denny invited me to join them every night at dinner after the children had gone to bed, and she would persuade me to play for them, especially if they had company. I play both the harp and the pianoforte, and Mr Hartley-Brown was very appreciative of my efforts. He led me to believe then that he had an interest in music and poetry, but that was an illusion,” she said sadly, adding, “He was no more interested in the arts than the man in the moon, but I was too ingenuous to understand. I am now thoroughly ashamed of my naiveté.”

  Darcy shook his head, realising how difficult would have been her position in the household.

  “You must not take all the blame upon yourself, Miss O'Hare. It is clear that they were both far more culpable; it was neither right nor proper that you should have been asked repeatedly to entertain them. It was surely not your role to do so,” he said, and Kathryn shrugged her shoulders.

  “It was not, but I did not mind at first. I suppose I was flattered, but later, I confess, it became a chore rather than a pleasure; I should have preferred to have the time to myself,” she replied, before continuing her tale.

  “Late last Summer, Lady Denny became unwell and took to spending much of her time in her apartments. Lord Denny was away in Europe, and Mr Hartley-Brown, who used to have rooms in Worthing, where he had many friends, moved to live at Lindfield Towers. He has a suite on the second floor, not far from the main apartments.

  “Lady Denny did not wish to be disturbed by the children; instead, she would send him to the nursery or the schoolroom to spend time with them, reading to them and playing games with them.

  “It was during this time that I, being thrown more and more into his company, began to believe that he had a strong partiality for me. It was, I realise now, a foolish and naïve assumption, based more on my susceptibility to flattery than reason. I have no excuse of any kind to offer, except my complete lack of knowledge of those types of people.

  “I had no one to confide in and no one to advise me, except Mrs Ellis the housekeeper, who had warned me to be cautious and not let him be too familiar with me. Thankfully, I was in no such danger; the very strict schooling I had received at the convent ensured that. But I admit, I was flattered and having allowed myself to be persuaded that he loved me, I finally consented, after some initial reluctance, to a secret engagement!”

  At this, she stopped speaking, rose, and walked to the entrance of the building, as though it was a point beyond which she could not proceed, and Jessica, who was hearing this part of the story for the first time, could not suppress a little gasp of astonishment.

  Darcy remained silent, and after a few minutes, Kathryn returned to her place and resumed her story.

  “Being inexperienced in their ways, I was unprepared for what followed.

  “Mr Hartley-Brown confided in his cousin—or so he led me to believe. He said she approved and was very happy for us. Lady Denny sent for me and told me how very happy she was that I had found favour with her dear cousin. She said he had been very lonely of late, and since she was herself unwell, she was pleased I was there as company for him. She said he had confessed to her that he was very attracted to me. But she made no mention of an engagement between us, secret or otherwise, nor did she indicate that there would be any change in my status within the household as a consequence.

  “Bewildered by this rather odd approach, spent several days in a state of uncertainty and confusion, before I discovered, quite by chance, the horrible truth—that I was a mere pawn in a cruel game of deception that Lady Denny and her cousin Mr Hartley-Brown were playing.

  “I was soon to learn that Mr Hartley-Brown and my lady were in truth much more than cousins.”

  Jessica saw Kathryn steel herself at this point and continue as if she were describing a situation out of some nightmare.

  “I should not have believed it, had I not seen it myself, when, quite by accident, I intruded upon them in her apartment.

  “Late one afternoon, hearing voices in Lady Denny's bedchamber, I thought one of the children had gone in and disturbed their mother when she was resting. I knew she would be very annoyed by this and entered the room to take the child away, going in through her dressing room, before I realised who it was she had in her bed. His boots and clothes lay scattered upon the floor, and their voices and their laughter were unmistakable.

  “Fortunately for me, the bed curtains were closed, and they were so engrossed in each other, they failed to notice my intrusion. I withdrew instantly, but not before everything I had been led to believe was shattered. I understood then his increased desire to visit Lindfield when Lord Denny was away. Clearly, I was not the reason, only the decoy, who would help allay any suspicions. They were both using me to deceive Lord Denny. They were probably laughing at me—at how easily I had fallen into their trap.”

  Jessica's expression of revulsion mirrored her thoughts.

  Kathryn's voice shook as she continued, “I was so shaken, so totally mortified at having been duped and used as I had been, I fled and hid in the maids' quarters, unable to face either of them.

  “Sarah, Lady Denny's personal maid, who knew everything that was going on between the mistress and her cousin, suspected from my distress and embarrassment that I had seen something I should not have and delighted in telling me everything she knew. Their affair had been a long-standing one, dating back many years, and the rest of us, including Lord Denny, were all being deceived by them, she said. She explained that none of the servants would go into that part of the house unless summoned.

  “Sarah had been bribed into secrecy, but she was not entirely the loyal servant—for it transpired that he had been previously responsible for despoiling the lives of two young chambermaids, one of whom, a childhood f
riend of Sarah's, had since taken her own life. I realised then why Mrs Ellis the housekeeper had warned me at the outset to beware of his attentions. She knew well his true character.”

  Even as she spoke, Kathryn could see the effect her story was having upon her listeners. Their expressions of acute pain and shock told her how deeply they were affected by these revelations.

  Jessica sat fixed in astonishment, her eyes wide, unable to say a word. She had not expected anything like this; it was quite outside the realm of her experience. Her quiet life at the Kympton rectory and gracious living at Pemberley had not prepared her for this.

  As for Darcy, although he was composed and made no immediate response, Kathryn saw he had been dismayed by her story. Even as she spoke, she could not help wondering if, after this recital, he would ever wish to speak with her again.

  What must he be thinking of me? He may well judge my indiscretion so harshly, that this may be the last time I see him, she thought, and a sharp feeling of hurt cut through her at the prospect.

  Nevertheless, knowing there was no going back, she continued as she had begun. “I stayed out of their way for the rest of the evening, feigning illness in order to avoid them. I knew he was leaving for London that night and determined that when he had gone, I too would leave Lindfield forever.”

  There were tears in her eyes as she explained, “It was clear to me that he never intended us to marry; he may well have hoped, if he had had his way, to abuse and abandon me as he had the other young women whom he had deceived. Worse still, my employer, Lady Denny, who should have been my protector, was probably complicit in the plan. How else could I explain her attitude to me, her encouragement of my association with him, when she knew exactly how things stood between them? Quite plainly, I was nothing to either of them; I have no words to describe my sense of hurt and humiliation.”

 

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