Nunes picked up the contract. “I’ve not the money, senhora. But if we alter the price for the wine, then insist that Captain Webber takes you as a passenger to England—to Runcorn, near Manchester.”
“Senhor, you have my undying gratitude. Please, take them all, for I have no need of such wealth.”
Again, Nunes was disarmed. “It must be averybad day. No, Mrs. Darcy, as I said, I cannot take them. Though, perhaps I’ll have the small gem as a token to remember you by—and the day I lost my mind.”
Ntsikana leant down and whispered in his ear. After some time, his face lightened, and a broad smile spread across his countenance. “I am reminded that Ntsikana comes from Xhosa country; he knows their songs and territories. You were washed ashore near where theGrosvenorstruck, which location has been lodged with the Fiscal. Could you also, perchance, draw an outline of the coast and promontories thereabout? You carry a guitar—you must perform, but do you also have a memory for rhythm and melody? Without a doubt, there was a homestead close by. Did they sing a song of farewell?—for they would be greatly honoured byMamlambocoming from the sea onto their shore. Each song is distinctive; Ntsikana will know them by it.”
“Indeed, I remember their song,” replied Elizabeth, “but why do you ask?”
“I would like a fortune, senhora, but not to steal yours. Ntsikana and I will seek the place you were washed ashore.Because where you found a few diamonds, there will be many more.”
Chapter 47
Pemberley, May 25, 1814
“Mr. Darcy, I must apologise, but the visitors arrived without any by-your-leave,” Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper, wrung her hands in agitation. “I’ve put them in the rooms they had before… before the funeral. I trust that is satisfactory.”
“Of course, Mrs. Reynolds, you’ve been running this house for longer than I can remember. I trust your judgement implicitly.”
It had been a month since he and Georgiana had come out of mourning. Fortunately, the final session of Parliament had kept Matlock busy. Now, at the end of May, he had no further obligations in London. Of course, they descended like a pack of hungry wolves on Pemberley. All had come. Matlock. Lady Catherine. But surely not the Bingleys? He had thought Bingley was in Hertfordshire. His heart began to race, his breathing coming in short, rasping bursts; a sharp pain caused his eyes to blur.
“Mr. Winthrop, Jacob, assist Mr. Darcy to his study, now!” The footman, Jacob, took his arm and gently led him down the corridor. The attacks had become more frequent. If she could have, Mrs. Reynolds would have turned away the so-called guests. But he was too kind; the Master had always been thus, since a little boy.
***
“Bingley, ‘tis most inconvenient. I’ve just come out of mourning, the earl and countess are visiting, and so is Lady Catherine. There’s much disarray in thehouse.”
“My apologies, Darcy. Caroline and I were passing on our way to Scarborough. We thought to visit, but truly, I could do with some advice.”
“My advice, these days, is scarcely worth anything. I’m weary; what you see before you is not the man you once knew. But, enough, have a glass—I’ll not join you, for I cannot, at the moment, abide wine or spirits.”
“Let me explain and then take my leave, for I can see you are much occupied.”
It was so unlike his normal effusive self that immediately Darcy took some pity on him. In want of a diversion, a little kindness to his friend was not unwelcome.
“You recall I rented an estate in Hertfordshire. The manor, Netherfield, is excellent, the shooting capital, and society in the neighbourhood was much to my liking. Of course, Caroline grumbled and complained. Which is partly why I’m here.”
“The point, Bingley?”
“The closest neighbours were a family of four daughters whom we met at the local assembly. The eldest, Jane, was exceptionally beautiful, graceful, and well-spoken. Oh, dash it, Darcy, I’ve fallen in love.”
“Then why are you here at Pemberley, and not in Hertfordshire?”
“You see, the family had recently fallen on hard times but had moved back to the manor after the heir presumptive left, no one knows to where. By doing so, he forfeited the rights to the estate. Thus the family has regained ownership—there was an entail, but it is now broken.”
Oh, there’s something so familiar about this tale. Suddenly a piercing headache, Darcy fought to maintain his self-possession. He couldn’t ask the obvious questions—the name of the estate, the family who occupied it? Were the daughters Jane, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia? If it were them, how could he deny all of his doubts and fears? He was not strongenough to fight his guilt, knowing she could have been reunited with her family, but was now lost.
“Caroline believes that were I to offer for Jane, the family would be a burden to me: that the father, only recently recovered from an apoplexy, could relapse, perhaps die; that the mother only looks to my fortune; that Jane is indifferent—she smiles too much to be genuine in her affection; that the youngest girls are vulgar and unseemly.”
Darcy leant back in his chair, turned his head away, pretending to look at the sheep grazing the grass beyond the park. It was Lizzie’s family! Unaware of her being swept away because of the risk of her father’s relapse, because of losing his daughter once again.
“Bingley, I ask you, for a second time. Why are you not in Hertfordshire, at Longbourn, seeking the hand of Jane, who has a disposition that would suit you admirably? Is she not a gentleman’s daughter? For such a connection would raise you in society. Ah, I do understand, for your sister wishes to go much higher…”
Bingley was all astonishment. “What do you know of Longbourn, Darcy? Why, that is the very name of the Bennets’ estate. And Jane has the sweetest nature.”
“I know nothing. But I say this, Bingley. If you love your Jane, then that is enough. Her love for you will grow if it is nurtured daily with care, affection, and respect. If you admire this woman and can see yourself two years from now, standing with her, hand in hand, walking in Netherfield’s park, then don’t hold back. For such moments are precious and may be fleeting. This I do know.”
Tonight, sleepless, he would again fight his fears, with the faint hope that in the morning, he would not have succumbed.
