Thinking that I would not get very far before the Honourable Lord Phillip was either found or had recovered his senses, I wasted little time in walking as fast as my skirts would allow…

 
 
Duality

By Susan Brown
 

I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.

There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.

“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

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Dear reader, there are parts of this chapter that may shock those of a delicate nature as there is some discussion of female anatomy. Please forgive me, as it is necessary for the continuation of my strange story.

Previously …

The letter was tear stained but I could not help that. The nightgown was at least some evidence of what had been done to me.

I knew all about men’s emissions. I learnt everything I need and wanted to know from my Mama. I often helped her with changing sheets and queried the strange stain on one of them. It appeared that some young men have dreams at night that resulted in such staining. I had wondered why it had not happened to me…

I left the letter and nightgown on her desk and then left her room. As a final act, I went back into the kitchen and looked at the prone body of Phillip. He was asleep and still snoring. Judging by the state of him. I would not have been surprised if he would not awaken for several hours, by which time I would hopefully be far away.

Perhaps I should have stayed and sought help, but I was not in my right mind and in any case I strongly believed that The Hon Phillips version of the events would have been taken as truth, rather than mine and that my very life would be in jeopardy.

I stole out of the house through the kitchen door and walked down the long drive of The Manor, a place I where had hoped would be my home for the foreseeable future. That future was now wrecked and in ruins.

It was a fine, dry night and the stars filled the heavens. On any other occasion, I would have enjoyed walking through this quiet place, with only the sounds of the wildlife to keep me company. But this was no ordinary time for me, as I had no home, job or future as far as I could see.

What I would do now, I did not know.

I was in despair.

And now the story continues…

It was a clear night and somewhat chilly, as is often the case after a fine day. I was lucky in as much as there was a full moon that helped light my way as I steeled away from The Manor, my home for some months.

I had little idea as to where I would go. I did not know the area well as I had only left the confines of The Manor and grounds on but a few occasions, such as visiting the church on Sundays and delivering a letter to the post in Lambton. I had been told that The Manor was close to many places such as Bakewell, Chatsworth, Matlock, Dove Dale, and the Peak, but my duties as a maid forbad any time off to visit such places.

Thinking that I would not get very far before the Honourable Lord Phillip was either found or had recovered his senses, I wasted little time in walking as fast as my skirts would allow.

Being on the outskirts of The Peak, I knew that I had to stay on the lanes and paths that were well used. I did not want to find myself in the wild yet beautiful countryside where I could easily loose myself and I would be in a worse position than I was at present. I therefor made my way towards Lambton.

I was wary of being out at night by myself. I did not wish to meet anyone at that late hour, in the dark, feeling that no good would come of it. Thoughts of pickpockets, highwaymen and other undesirables were uppermost in my thoughts as I walked along. Mind you there were also wild animals such as foxes and loose wild dogs, known to be in the area and that frightened me as much as anything else.

As I walked, my thoughts turned to the events of the previous few hours. I had little hope of ever returning to The Manor; indeed, I believed if I were caught I would surely hang. I knew my innocence, but I had little to support of that other than my word on it and the evidence of my torn and soiled nightgown.

What chance had I when my accuser would be a titled member of a powerful family?

I wished that I could have the council of my dear sister Julia. She would have known what to do. Had I, by running away, sealed my guilt? Should I have stayed and faced the consequences and plead my innocence?

Phillip had seen my body and knew that I at least looked slightly like a boy. I had little doubt that he would tell anyone who would listen that I was a fraud and a liar and that would as much as anything seal my fate and make me look guilty in the eyes of the law.

I shook my head, tears falling unbidden down my cheeks. This was no good. I was trying to make sense out of a situation that was not of my making. I hated Phillip then as much as I could hate anyone. How could he get away with being such a beast? He had done it before and no doubt he would do it again to some poor innocent creature such as myself. It is truly a man’s world and they held all the cards.

I was beyond outside help now. I would have to do the best that I could to disappear from view and await any developments. How I would do this. I had no idea, but I would try my hardest to eventually be seen as the innocent party and at least regain some satisfaction that I was not such a bad person after all.

I seemed to walk for miles, although it probably wasn’t as far as I thought. I met nobody and for that I was thankful. I did get a fright when a bat flew low over me and actually brushed up against my bonnet, leaving me hysterics for some moments before I could collect and gather myself and eventually continue on my way.

Eventually I arrived at the small town of Lambton. All was quiet, which was good as the last thing I wanted was to be discovered or questioned about what business I had abroad at such a time.

As a boy I would not be questioned, but a girl should not be out at that time and certainly not unaccompanied.

On the other side of Lambton, I stopped and went off the road. Finding an uprooted tree, I sat down upon it and wondered, not for the first time, what I would do. Taking off my bonnet, I wiped the perspiration from my brow.

To be honest, as I had walked, I was feeling increasingly unwell. My belly was sore and I felt slightly sick and lightheaded. I was strangely sleepy and lethargic and I put this down to the all the stresses of the previous hours.

I tried to think of what I should now do. I had no real plans, the only one being getting as far away from The Manor as possible. Now I had to decide what to do. I could not wander the countryside aimlessly. I had some money, the last of the share of what my mother had given us and I also had a little from my wages. Not enough to get too far, but I felt that it would suffice to at least get me away from Derbyshire. Perhaps I could find a position at another house, far away from Lambton?

A major problem was that I had no references and that would go against me, I was sure. Sighing, I realised that I could not tarry any longer. I had to be away. My enforced rest had made me feel perhaps a little better.

Time was of the essence, as I feared deeply that the men of The Manor would try to hunt for me when Phillip was found and my letter to the housekeeper was read.

I placed my bonnet over my rather damp hair and tied the ribbon securely under my chin. It was somewhat windy and the last thing I wanted was for it to fly off. Taking a deep breath, I walked on down the road. I had decided to try to meet the early post chase at the Cross Inn, one of the places where we had gone through on our journey home to my mother’s funeral. I was hopeful that there would be space for me at the early hour of six in the morning.

The walk to the inn was about three miles from Lambton and with a fairly firm step, I went as fast as I could, not because I would be late for the carriage, but because I did not want to be on the road for long and risk getting caught.

I walked along for about ten minutes, getting slower and slower. Once again, I was feeling a little sick and light headed. The pain in my belly was growing somewhat and I wondered if I had eaten something that had disagreed with me, some hours before.

I came to some woods and to my left was a path, leading through the woods. I realised that I was not well enough to walk any further for the moment and I therefor decided that I would find somewhere to rest out of the way of the road and then, when I felt a little better, I could continue my journey.

Going down the path, I could just see that it was not well used and in places, it had become overgrown. This suited my purposes and I continued on as far as I could away from the road. Suddenly, a fox crossed my path. It stopped, looked at me for a moment and then was gone, like a silent phantom.

I should have been fearful of the fox, as I knew that there was a possibility that I might get bitten, but I was beyond caring by now and I just wanted to stop and go to sleep. However, something kept me going until I could go on no longer.

I stumbled along for a few more steps and then stopped, swaying from side to side. My belly was on fire and as I knelt down on the rough ground, I was violently sick. Then a blackness came over me and I knew no more.

I had no idea how long I was unconscious but I was aware of sunlight on my face as it filtered through the trees. Sitting up, I saw that I was on the path still and my dress was filthy and stained and smelt very unpleasant. The pain in my belly was still there, but was now no more than a niggling ache.

The early morning birds’ chorus was in full voice and it looked like it was going to be a fine day. Suddenly, I remembered what had happened the previous night and my flight from The Manor. My heart felt heavy at all that had happened and I realised with horror that the post chase had probably gone by now.

Wearily, I managed somehow to get to my feet. Standing there, swaying slightly, I had no idea as to what to do. My mind felt as if it was full of wool and I had a little difficulty in trying to concentrate on what I should do. I was somewhat thirsty and I could hear the sound of running water coming from the left. I followed the sound and then, just a little way from the path where I had been standing, behind some tall bushes, was, I believed, a stream.

Forcing my way through a gap in the bushes, I sank to my knees and cupped some water into my hands and drank deeply. The water tasted wonderfully clean and after a few moments, I felt refreshed.

After quenching my thirst, my head cleared somewhat and with fumbling fingers, I undid the ribbon and took off my bonnet. I was then able to wash my face in the cool water.

It was nice there by the stream, in the little clearing. The trees were thinner than the surrounding wood and a lot of the sunlight was able to come through, painting the scene with light and picking out lovely colours of yellow, blue and pink of the wild flowers dotted about the place.

It was then that I realised that I had left my laundry bag with my clothes on the path and I went to fetch it, as I did not want it discovered and I wished to change out of my soiled clothes and into something a little cleaner.

The bag was where I had left it the previous night and in moments I was back by the side of the stream.

I removed my soiled dress and petticoat and while in a state of undress, I went over to a tree, squatted and relieved myself.

It was painful to do this and glancing down, I noticed that my piss looked very red and wondered why that would be. Then, when I had finished I glanced over to my discarded petticoat and I noticed a small patch of dried blood. I did not remember cutting myself and after looking at myself I saw no sign of a cut, but did see a trickle of dried blood on the inside of my leg.

This was strange. Where was all the blood coming from and did it have anything to do with my feeling unwell? I did not think that Phillip did anything to me that could warrant an internal injury; although no doubt, given the chance he would have harmed me if he could.

I could do nothing about the problem now and I quickly dressed in the spare dress and petticoat that I had in my bag. Once dressed, I put my soiled garments in my bag and then sat for a moment to gather my thoughts.

Although I had thought that I was feeling better now, just redressing seemed to tire me out and I wondered whether I would be well enough to continue my journey. Luckily, I was not feeling very hungry, so I did not feel the need to find food.

Even though I had only just awakened, I felt the need for sleep once more and I lay down with my head on my bag. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

It was the sound of splashing water that awakened me and then I sat up suddenly at the sound of a voice. Looking around with alarm, I could see the shape of a man on a horse. I felt disoriented and my head spun.

‘Oh Lord, I have been found,’ I cried out.

The bright light of the morning was too much for me and I closed my eyes once more.

I had been caught and I would be dragged back to The Manor.

Seconds later I could feel his presence by my side.

‘Are you unwell?’

‘I…I.’

Words failed me.

‘Bingley, go fetch some men and a stretcher then call for the doctor.’

‘Of course Darcy, I will be as quick as I can.’

The Man called Darcy held me against his shoulder and after a moment I felt slightly better.

‘I have seen you before somewhere, I think, but how came you here, Miss?’ he asked.

‘I…I had to get away.’

‘Away from who or what?’

‘Phillip.’

‘Phillip?’

‘The Honourable Lord Phillip at The Manor. He tried to…to…’

I broke down in tears and he held me closer.

I was asked other questions but other than giving my name, I was incoherent and inconsolable.

I had little recollection of the next few hours, as I believe that I once again fainted. I learnt later that some men were fetched and I was carried away to the great house known as Pemberley in whose grounds I had wondered into.

When I awoke, it was evening time. I was in bed, a bed the like of which I had never slept in. My hair was tied to the side and in ribbons and I was wearing a clean white, very fine nightgown with lace edging on the sleeves and neck.

The room was large, larger even than the bedrooms at The Manor and it was expensively decorated, with portraits on the walls and fine curtains at the windows.

In the large fireplace, logs crackled and gave off a glow that warmed the room and made it somehow rather cosy.
By the fire, a woman sat reading a book.

I coughed and that hurt a bit as my belly was still feeling somewhat tender and my head, the same.

She looked up at me, put her book down and then came over to me.

‘You are awake, I see Miss.’

‘Where am I?’

‘Pemberley, in one of the guest rooms.’

‘Pemberley?’

‘Yes; the master brought you back from the woods, you were unwell. I am the housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds.’

I felt a dread in my breast.

‘Am I to be sent back to The Manor?’

‘No Miss, you shall not. Mr Darcy wishes to explain matters to you. But I can say without fear of contradiction, that you shall never have to go back to that place if you do not wish to.’

‘But I injured The Honourable Phillip.’

‘No more than he deserved.’

‘You know of him?’

‘The whole county knows of him. He has been sent away in disgrace. Are you well enough to know of the details or would you like to rest?’

‘May I have some water?’

‘Yes Miss.’

She went over to a carafe and poured some water into a glass and then fetched it back to me.

After sipping some water, my throat felt less dry and I was able to continue this strange discussion with Mrs Reynolds.

‘Better Miss?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Good. Well, the master will want to tell you certain things, but for now I can tell you this. The Honourable Lord Philip was found by one of the scullery maids the morning after his attack on you. The housekeeper, Mrs Gibbons was called for and then the butler. Your letter and nightgown was found and read. Phillip was still unconscious and a doctor was called. It appears that the wound that you inflicted on Philip was superficial and it was mainly the fact that he had consumed copious amounts of drink that he was in the state that he was.

‘Lord Trencham was called in and it appears that his son has, in the past, done similar things to what he did to you. Eventually, Phillip was awakened by the judicious use of a jug of cold water. He professed his innocence, saying that you egged him on, but on production of your soiled and torn nightdress, he admitted only that he could not recollect much of the night before, except that he thought that you was a boy not a girl.

‘Evidently he was ridiculed for saying this, as everyone who knew you was certain that you were a girl and not some boy in disguise. I will not say more on the matter except that you were believed and not him. A commission has been purchased for him in one of the northern regiments and he is not expected to be welcomed back at The Manor for some time to come. Now I can say no more on the subject except that you are welcome to return to The Manor if you wish. However, my master Mister Darcy will want to see you when you feel able and also the doctor from London will be here shortly to explain matters appertaining to your health. I know that you have questions Miss, but please be patient. You will know all very soon and I promise that you will be satisfied with what you hear.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Seven o’clock.’

‘So I have lain here all day?’

‘You have lain there for four days, Miss.’

‘Four days! I had not thought…’

‘It is true Miss, you have been asleep for four days.’

‘I…I must have been very unwell then. But please call me Georgiana, if you will. It does not seem right that you call me Miss.’

She looked at me and smiled.

‘It would be inappropriate and not be correct for me to call you anything other than Miss for the moment. However, all will be explained in the fullness of time. Are you hungry?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Well you must get you appetite back soon; there is nothing of you. I will bring the doctor up when he comes and then the master will want to talk to you.’

‘Is he angry with me?’

‘Whatever for? No he is not angry, he is just anxious about you. Now, rest easy Miss. If you need anything, just pull the cord.’

She smiled and left me to my solitude. I had much to think about, with no answers to the questions that were whirling around in my head.

I felt an itch down below, between my legs. When I felt down, I noticed that the area was covered in some sort of padding. I wondered if they had found the cut that had caused my bleeding but I was so tired I just needed to sleep again, although questions were going around in my head that made it difficult to relax.

I must have slept as I only woke up at the touch on my arm. Looking up, I saw a man before me, somewhat stout, almost bald and with a smile on his face.

‘Forgive me for awakening you. I am Doctor Fisher, Mr Darcy asked me to have a look at you. How are you feeling?’

‘Tired and my belly aches a little.’

‘Ah yes; tell me have you ever had a doctor examine you?’

‘Yes, just a little while ago after going to my mothers funeral.’

‘You mean step mother?’

‘Yes,’ I answered, wondering how he knew that.

‘I am sorry for your loss. What did you see the doctor for, was it the strange pains that you were having?’

‘Yes and the fact that I was growing as a girl when I had boy parts.’

‘I was called up from Bart’s by Mr Darcy, that is a large hospital in London. I specialise in certain conditions and have had some experience of your problem. I took the liberty of examining you after some concerns were raised by Mr Darcy and in particular Mrs Reynolds who undressed you and saw what state you were in. The doctor that you saw, did he give you a diagnosis?'

‘Yes, he said that he was no expert but he thought that I appeared to be more girl than boy and in his opinion, I should have been called as a boy when I was born. He also said that the pains that I was having were nothing more than growing pains.'

Doctor Fisher sighed.

‘I regret that the good doctor was somewhat mistaken regarding the pains, although, to be fair he was close to the truth in other things. There are some people who are considered hermaphrodite; do you know what that is?’

‘No Sir, but is it something to do with what the other doctor said to me?’

‘Yes, in part. This is when someone is born with male and female parts. You are not what I would consider a true hermaphrodite because you are predominately female, but some of your important parts were covered over and not visible and a mistake was made.

‘When a baby is born and the sex of that child is ambiguous, that is to say, unclear, it is normally up to the midwife or doctor to decide whether the child is a boy or a girl. A surprising number of babies are born with abnormalities and mistakes are made. In many cases, nothing needs to be done. In a few instances, I regret to say, death occurs from unforeseen complications. When we can, we need to do things that help relieve symptoms such as the ones you have been experiencing. You have noticed some bandages and padding down below?’

‘Yes Doctor.’

‘Well the science is not exact in these cases and we are far from perfect medically speaking, but it was clear that you were bleeding from inside and some of the blood was evacuating from the penis.’

He hesitated and then continued.

‘I do not like to speak of such matters to a girl of tender years, but it is necessary for you to know what changes I have been able to do to help you. I speak to you as a medical man would to my patient and as such, social niceties have to be put aside for a moment and things of a delicate and personal nature must be discussed. Do you understand?’

I thought him a little pompous, sanctimonious and condescending and wondered if he would speak like this to a boy, but that was but a passing thought.

‘Please continue Sir.’

He inclined his head.

‘On examination of the area in question, it was evident, that some skin was covering an opening that, I believed was probably your vagina.’

‘Vagina?’

‘Yes, it is the opening that all normal girls have. You are perhaps unaware of certain female parts?’

I blushed.

‘I know little sir. I have, if course, seen farm animals and how they evidently make babies; although I find it hard to believe that any animal parts are similar to ours, but like farm animals, women become pregnant and give birth. My sister has told me certain things that she learned from my mother, such as the fact that girls do not have a erm, penis, and it is obvious that women have erm, bosoms, indeed, I believe that I have erm, certain, erm.’

I waved vaguely at my chest and then hesitantly continued.

‘My sister has seen my male member and she has said that it was unlike any other she had seen; I believe she came across one of the brothers when in a state of undress…’

I once again felt myself blush, as I did not really feel very comfortable talking of such delicate matters.

‘Yes well, the penis you thought that you had is in fact more a clitoris, which only women have, an enlarged one, but definitely a clitoris. As you were unconscious at the time and I felt the your health was in danger, I decide to operate on you to see what lay beneath the skin. As I suspected, it was a virginal canal. I also suspect that you have the reproductive organs of a female, hence the bleeding which was I believe, a monthly menses. Luckily you are young and it appears that the bleeding was light otherwise you may have been in graver danger.’

‘So the other doctor was right, I am more of a girl than a boy?’

‘Yes, indeed I would say that; definitely a girl. Whether you can have children is another matter as there is no way of knowing that and it is Gods hands as to whether you will be blessed. I must now inspect my work. Forgive me, my dear as it needs to be done.’

I was somewhat dumfounded that it was possible that I could actually have children, God willing. For that I would have to marry a man and I was not sure if I wanted to do that. Phillips attempts to rape me had put me off men for life, but perhaps, with time, I would get over the pain and suffering that man had caused me. Then there was the fact that I did not know if I would be attracted to any man…

I winced as a small stab of pain came from between my legs and I wondered what the doctor was doing down there and then, on reflection, I was not sure that I wanted to know.

I tried to take my mind off his examination of me, although it was rather uncomfortable. Thankfully, it was soon over and the bed covers were once again put over me.

‘The wounds look a little sore, but you should be able to use the toilet carefully. Once the swelling dies down, I think that you will look almost like a normal girl. Please be sure to wipe yourself clean with a clean damp cloth after urinating, to avoid the possibility of soreness. I understand that one of the servants with experience of looking after the sick will be looking after you and tend to your needs. You are to have complete bed rest until I see you again. I will visit in one week’s time to see your progress.’

‘Thank you for helping me.’

‘I am well paid for my services, but I have to say that it is a real pleasure to help a young lady like yourself,’ he smiled.

With that he left me and a woman came in and then over to my bed. She was quite old and matronly but she looked nice enough and she was smiling.

‘Hello Miss Georgiana, I am Branson, I was nanny to Mr Darcy and several other members of the family. I have come to look after you.’

‘Thank you Miss Branson.’

‘Just Branson Miss. Now the doctor has told me of your medical problems and I will be here to help you and change your dressings when needed. You are to only get up to use the chamber pot or bourdaloue as any exertions on your part might make you bleed, something that the doctor does not wish to happen.’

‘Erm, I wish to go now?’

I had had an urge to urinate for some time, but I had tried to avoid any embarrassment.

‘Very well, let me help you.’

‘I am sure that I can manage.’

‘I think not Miss. It would be more than my life is worth if any harm comes to you.’

She helped me off with the covers and I stood up…and then nearly fell, as I was so weak.

‘Here, let me help you.’

It was with embarrassment that she lifted up my nightgown, took away the padding which had been attached to some sort of belt and then, picking up an ornate bourdaloue from beneath the bed, she placed it where needed. The pad was stained with dry blood, I noticed as she placed it in a bucket by the wall. A few moments later, although could see nothing under the voluminous white garment, I could hear and feel myself let go. There was a burning feeling that was somewhat unpleasant, but the relief of pressure was nice!

When I had finished, I could see that the contents of the pot were rather red in colour.

‘No need to worry Miss, the doctor said that you should expect a little blood for a while. Now let me dry you.’

‘I can…’

‘No Miss, let me do it, if you are too rough then the scabs will bleed.’

A few moments later, I felt better as a clean pad had been placed upon me and I was safely back in bed.

Just that simple action of going to the toilet had been enough to tire me somewhat and I was left to rest. I was told that a simple supper would be brought up for me in about an hour’s time.

I lay there looking at the ceiling, trying to digest what had happened to me and wondering just who this Mister Darcy was and what interest that he had in me, a poor runaway servant girl?

I awoke to the sound of crockery. Benson had brought in a tray.

‘Sorry to wake you Miss, but Mrs Reynolds said that I must get you to eat. There is nothing of you and you are to eat it all up, doctors orders.’

She helped me to sit up and then a tray was put upon my lap.

‘Please pull the cord what you have finished Miss.’

I looked at the plate. There was some thick soup, almost a broth, and some bread. I had not realised I was so hungry until the smell of the food awakened my senses. I consumed the soup with something like gusto, as it appeared that I had not eaten in some days. There was also some watered down port wine and I drank it with relish, although in my weakened state, it made me feel almost immediately slightly lightheaded.

After completing my repast, I pulled the cord by the bed and almost immediately, Benson came in.

‘Good, you have eaten it all; your cheeks look a bit rosier if I might make bold to say. Mr Darcy has asked if you feel well enough to speak with him?’

‘Of course, I would like to thank him for his charity and kindness.’

“I will let him know directly, Miss, but first we must clean you up.’

I was assisted out of bed and asked to sit on a chair by the fire.

Benson left the room for a moment and then came back with a jug of hot water.

‘You should really have a bath, like the master has, but with your wounds it will have to wait. I will help clean you as best I can and then you will feel better for it.’

She poured the water into a basin and then helped me to remove my rather grubby nightgown. I was a little embarrassed to be virtually naked but Benson did not seem all that embarrassed and so I relaxed, just a little.

‘I can wash myself,’ I said.

‘No Miss, not in your condition and I will be able to reach parts that would be difficult for you.’

I looked down at my body while Benson washed my back with soft cloths. My breasts were growing, if anything, larger than when I last saw them. They were no longer just nubs, but small and definite breasts, which itched slightly. Down below, I could see the belt with the wide pad attached that covered my groin and bottom. It looked strange, but no stranger than other things that were going on around me at present.

I wondered if I was dreaming. Perhaps I was still down by the stream, asleep…

Then Benson came around to the front and washed my face and the rest of my exposed body. This was no dream, this was reality and I started shivering from the cold, even though the fire was lit and I was standing next to it.

‘Not long now, Miss,’ said Benson kindly.

She wiped me dry with some towels and slipped a clean nightgown over my head. Then she sat me down, untied the ribbons in my hair, brushed it and then expertly tied my hair in a beribboned night plat. Finally she helped me back to bed.

‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘that makes me feel much better.’

‘It’s a pleasure Miss Georgiana.’ She replied with a genuine smile.

I did so wish that people would call me by my Christian name and not Miss. I was but a mere servant girl. Even using my surname would seem more correct than Miss. I sighed, knowing that I would not get my way no matter how much I asked.
‘I will inform Mr Darcy that you are now able to see him.’

As I lay there waiting to see the mysterious Mister Darcy, I wondered what he was like. My thoughts on men at that time were far from good, after the experience of my encounter with The Hon Lord Phillip. But I was sure that he was nothing like that odious man and he did rescue me and brought me to his lovely house.

There was a knock on the door.

‘C…come in.’

The door opened and then I saw him clearly for the first time.

It was the stranger who helped carry my mothers’ coffin!

He came over, all smiles.

‘How are you Georgiana?’

‘Well, thank you Sir; forgive me, but are you a member of my mothers’ family that I do not know of? I saw you carry the coffin and later I saw you on the road.’

‘No, not your mothers family, who are, I believe, something like step relations to you.’

‘I did not realise that it was you when you rescued me; I regret, I was not myself.’

‘The doctor explained to me the nature of your ailments. I insisted on knowing. You are still but a child and I felt that you were in need of protection and in any case, I had an interest in his answer, above and beyond mere curiosity and concern for a fellow being.’

Why Sir?’

‘I…I know something of your history.’

‘My history?’

‘Yes; if you are well enough, I need to tell you of certain facts. Are you up to this or would you prefer that I come `and see you tomorrow.’

‘Oh, dear Sir I cannot wait a moment longer, please tell me what you will and then perhaps I might sleep the easier.’

‘May I sit?’

‘Please do Sir.’

He drew a chair close to the bed and sat down. I could see that there was some trouble displayed on his countenance but there was also a firm strength in his manner and deportment that I could only admire.

‘I have a tale to tell, please; I beg do not interrupt until I have finished. Before I begin do you need refreshment?’

‘No Sir.’

‘Very well. I have to tell you a little of my family history. My father was George Darcy and no better man walked the earth. My mother was Lady Ann Darcy, a pretty woman and much loved by my father and myself. However she was not strong physically or mentally and she spent some time away from us, recovering from one episode or another. She had miscarried twice and she was, by all accounts at very low ebb.

‘I was but nine year’s old when things came to a head. My mother disappeared and we had no knowledge of the reason. She was searched for high and low but she was not found.

‘Then several months later she came home and refused to tell anyone where she had been or what she had been doing. I regret that she was still not well in her head and she had flights of fancy when she was gay and happy and days when she raged against the world.

‘She was not a strong woman and the years had not been kind to her as she looked much older than she actually was. One night she left her bedroom in the dead of night and walked out into a raging storm. She was found the following day, quite dead.’

Mr Darcy stopped for a moment almost overcome with emotion but then he seemed to gather himself, smiled at me and then continued.

‘After my mother died we tried to pick up the threads of our lives and I grew even closer to my father, although I knew that he missed her dreadfully, as I did. Five years after my mother died, my father followed and I then took over as master of the house. I have tried to be a fair and kind employer and I think that the workers on the estate are happy enough. For myself, I am somewhat shy and awkward when meeting people other than my immediate circle and I perhaps give the appearance of being aloof and disagreeable. I abhor any falsehood or putting on airs and graces and I fear that I may show my contempt for such actions in my responses. This is perhaps my fault and perhaps I should not expect others to act as I do. I acknowledge it without further comment other than it is for others to judge whether I am a good or bad person.’

He looked slightly fierce as he said that and I was glad that I was not the object of his wrath. He looked at me and smiled, his features relaxing somewhat.

‘Forgive me; I have no wish to concern you with my faults, perceived or true. But enough about me. About a year ago, I found a copy of a letter from my mother, a rough draft if you like, to a Mrs Harriet Digby and in it she enquired about a boy called George. It was a somewhat jumbled letter and it made little sense. I just thought that it referred to a child of someone she was acquainted with and was just asking after the boy’s health.

‘Then I found a few other letters, once again mentioning this child George. I was intrigued enough to make enquiries about this Mrs Harriet Digby and I eventually traced her to a forge in Market Lowerbury in the county of Leicestershire.

‘On visiting her, I found her alone in the house and she welcomed me. After making a few pleasantries, I showed the copies of my mothers’ letters and informed her of my mothers’ death, a fact that she was not aware of. It appears that she had made certain solemn promises to my mother and she was very reluctant to divulge any information that had been given to her in confidence. Is all this clear to you so far Georgiana?’

I nodded, wondering what he had to say to me.

‘I asked why my mother would have any interest in George. I explained that my mother was unwell for many years and the fact that she had lost two children by miscarriage. This had made matters worse for her and that she was subject to fits of depression that finally led to her walking out in a storm and dying of exposure.

‘Mrs Digby looked up at me sharply and then asked about my father and whether he was still a violent man. This took me aback as my father was the gentlest of men and I told her so and also informed her that he too had passed away. She looked alarmed and upset at what I had to say. For some minutes she walked about the room in an agitated way and then sat down once again. I remember almost word for word what she then said to me.

Mrs Digby’s account

‘Sir, I feel that must tell you things that I promised not to tell a living soul except my husband who had to know the particulars. Please do not judge me badly as I agreed to all this with honourable intentions. One evening some years ago, my husband was called out to a pony and trap that had lost its wheel. There was a woman in the trap without any companion and she was discommoded and so my husband brought her back to the house as it was very late she was in some discomfort.’

‘Discomfort?’

‘She was heavy with child.’

‘My God!’

‘I see that you have a notion of what I am saying. I put her to bed directly and because of her condition, I called old Mrs Becket from the village, her being the one person in the village that helped with the berthing’s. My children were away at the time visiting their grandparents, my mother and father that is, and that was a blessing, as I did not want them to be around during that rather eventful time.

‘The birth was a difficult one and the labour lasted several hours. At one time when Mrs Becket was asleep in the kitchen downstairs I was able to ask why she had been travelling in such a manner in her condition without the support of any other person. She told me her story. She said that she had a violent husband and that she feared for her life. She had run away because she feared for her safety and that of her unborn child.

‘I asked if she had any relatives or friends that could help her and she said that had no one. The birth when it came was a painful one, but the child appeared to be healthy and mother and child survived. Strangely, your mother did not take to the child and did not even like to look at him. We had to use a wet nurse from the village, giving the excuse that the mother was too dry to feed the boy herself.

‘About four days after the birth, I went into her room to find the baby crying and your mother gone. A letter was on the pillow and it said simply that she did not want the child to grow up without a proper family and she beseeched me to take him and treat him as my own. She promised to write but told me not to tell anyone of the circumstances regarding the child and above all, not to try to contact her family because she said the child would be in grave danger if this were done. She gave the impression that your father was a dangerous and vindictive man who would harm the child if he was found.’

‘And you believed this madam?’ I asked.

‘Indeed I do. Your mother painted a picture of someone who beats the servants and treated his wife cruelly and with contempt. If you had heard her Sir, you would have believed her in my position. So I took George into the family and treated him as one of my own.’

The end of Mrs Digby’s account

With that Mr Darcy looked at me and said, ‘Mrs Digby was a kindly woman and I liked her. I believed her story, as I knew that my mother was someone who occasionally lived in a world of her own. My only wish was that I could have at least seen you, but you were away on an errand.’

‘So I am your s…s…sister?’

He nodded.

‘Indeed you are dear Georgiana. To find you in my woods, was divine intervention.’

‘I do not know what to say. I am… I am.’

With that I burst into tears and the person that I now knew to be my brother, came close and hugged me to him.

He said some words of comfort, but to this day, I cannot recall them. Eventually, I calmed down, composed myself and told him about what I had been told of my circumstances.

‘I have never heard this story Sir. I thought that my parents and died from the consumption and I had been taken in as an act of kindness. I was told that my parents were genteel, but I could no more information from either my mother or father. My siblings knew nothing about it either and just accepted me as one of the family, for which I was truly thankful. But why did you leave me with the Digby’s when you knew that I was your sister?’

‘That was difficult. I could have been selfish and taken you away, but I was assured that you were happy with your family and to take you away and put you in a place far different from the circumstances that you had experienced the whole of your life would be unkind. So both Mrs Digby and myself decided to let things rest as they were. If there was any situation where you were in need, then she would contact me and so I let it rest there. I received reports from your mother on an irregular basis about how things were going for you and I was assured of your happiness. Many times I wanted to see you, but I knew that it would be difficult without explaining myself.’

‘I wish I had known Sir.’ I said.

He smiled.

‘I think that it is right and proper that you call me Fitzwilliam or perhaps Brother when you are displeased with me.’

When he smiled, it was nice and it made his face so much pleasanter.

‘So, erm Fitzwilliam, how came you to know of my situation?’

When I went to your mothers funeral, I looked for you and made discrete enquiries. I found out that you were unwell. I was not aware that you were now Georgiana and not George. I also found out that Lord Trencham employed you but I had no idea that you were a maid. I thought deeply about whether it was right and proper for you to be employed thus and I made it my business to find out if you were happy. I passed you on the lane away from the church. That was you wasn’t it?’

‘Yes Si…I mean Fitzwilliam.’

‘I thought so. It was something about your face, although I only saw it fleetingly and you were wearing a large bonnet. I take it that you were paying your respects to your and you wished to remain incognito?’

I nodded.

‘Yes, that makes more sense of things. Anyway when I arrived home to Pemberton, I had a letter waiting for me, it was from your mother. It had taken some time to get to me and had been written some weeks before your mother passed away. In it she told me of your subterfuge in taking employment as a girl and the reasons why this had been done. I was very concerned at receiving that information, as I had lately heard rumours of an alarming nature involving Lord Phillip and his rather dubious nature.’

‘He is a hateful man,’ I said with tears once more flowing down my cheeks.

Fitzwilliam held my hand.

‘He is lucky that he is no longer in the county, as I would have called him out, if he was available. If I see him, I will not be responsible for my actions, at the very least, I will horsewhip him and if he is stupid enough to stand up for a duel, I know what the outcome shall be.’

‘Oh, Fitzwilliam, please do not fight him. I would hate to lose you…’

‘You have no fear of that. And anyway, now that I have found you, I will never let you go.’

It was two weeks before I was allowed out of bed. My strength grew daily and this was, in a large part, helped by the love of my brother and the respect and obvious affection that I received from all the staff, despite the fact that I was a relative stranger. After the first week, the doctor returned and after examining me, declared that he was happy with my progress and unless anything untoward happened all would be well with me. I had my own maid in additional to Benson. It was strange to me, as one who was more used to giving service rather than receiving it, to be looked after and my every whim catered for. Not that I had many whims, my days below stairs had taught me not to abuse my now privileged position.

As soon as I felt well enough, I wrote to my dear sister Julia and told her of my good fortune. I eagerly awaited a reply as to how things were going with her. I worried about her, as I believed that she was not happy with her aunt and uncle and I was also concerned for her health, none to strong after the illness that nearly took her away from us.

On the last day but one of my confinement to my bed, I had a visitor. Fitzwilliam had gone hunting with his friends, one of them in particular was very nice, a Mr Charles Bingly.

I was reading a book and must admit that it was somewhat dull and I was beginning to feel sleepy when Caroline, my maid came in and announced a visitor.

‘Sorry to disturb Miss Georgiana but Lady Catherine de Bourgh wishes to see you.’

I sat up straighter in bed. I had been expecting a visit from her and knew her now as my aunt. Fitzwilliam did not have much time for her, considering her to be overbearing and self-opinionating.

Without further notice, the lady in question entered the room, sweeping aside poor Caroline, who left the room with an apologetic look on her face.

‘There you are then. You are Georgiana, I see. Fitzwilliam told me about you of course and I have been waiting for you to visit me but it appears that you have been indisposed. What is wrong with you?’

‘I have been unwell Ma’am.’

‘That is obvious. You shall call me Aunt, but what is wrong with you, I say?’

‘I am much better thank you Ma…I mean Aunt; the doctor needed to perform an operation to clear a blockage…’

‘Most distasteful, I need not know any more. I of course suffer from ill health and it is a marvel that I am alive today.
Even my daughter is of delicate health and she needs the constant attention of the physicians. Do you play the pianoforte?’

‘No, I regret…’ I replied, wondering at the switch in the conversation.

‘No girl of breeding should not be able to play the pianoforte. I understand that you were brought up, in the country following my sisters rather unfortunate illness.’

‘Yes Aunt.’

I did not know what she had been told and I did not wish her to know anything that wasn’t strictly necessary. I did so wish that my brother were present.

‘It appears that there was some sort of breakdown in communication and your location, your very existence, was not discovered until recently.’

‘Yes Aunt.’

‘Don’t “yes aunt me”, girl. I am most vexed. I require to know all the particulars.’

‘I do not know the full facts Aunt, except that I was brought up by the family of an acquaintance of my mother. Both my parents died and I find myself here. I Think Fitzwilliam would be able to give you more information as to the circumstances.’

‘Fitzwilliam, fiddlesticks. He has not been as forthcoming as I would wish in this matter and I believe much of the circumstances of your arriving so suddenly has been kept away from me for some undisclosed reason. I am most vexed and displeased. But enough of that for now, but mark my words Georgina, I will get to the bottom of this. You will of course come visit me at Rosings Park in Kent; the warmer climate would do well for your pasty complexion. Initially, a short visit of not more than a month should suffice. Your cousin Ann is anxious to meet with you. You are young, I see; what thirteen?’

‘Just fourteen, if you please Aunt.’

‘You have a governess?’

‘One is being arranged, I believe.’

‘I know of a good one. I used her for my dear daughter. She cost upwards of twenty pounds a year with board, but you cannot put a price on a good education. I will speak to Darcy about it.’

‘Thank you Aunt.’

‘This room is adequate but the room I will reserve for you at Rosings Park is larger and has a better aspect. I will leave now, but I desire that I am informed of what you are doing and where you are going. I will not be kept in the dark. I expect to see you shortly at Rosings Park. You may kiss me.’

She came and leaned over the bed and I kissed her cheek.

‘Good day to you Georgiana.’

With that, she left and I felt that some sort of immovable force had finally left the room.

When I told my brother about the impromptu visit, he laughed.

‘You did well to fence off her questions Georgiana. She has the personality of one whose will is something of an overpowering nature. She would have me marry Ann, her daughter, but I promise you that will never happen. I try to steer clear of Kent for that very purpose!’

The day finally came when I was allowed out of my room and with care; I was allowed to roam freely. I had only experienced the one room and I marvelled at the rest of that great house; its opulence and splendour never ceased to amaze me. It was large, so very large and the grounds were wonderful and of a far grander a scale than I could ever imagine. The park was very grand and the woods extensive. There was a large lake and a river ran through it. Altogether, I was very much in love with the splendours of Pemberley.

The clothes that I now wore were, to say the least, of the finest materials. When in my sick bed, I was shown many fabrics and seamstresses took careful measurements and made such dresses that I could only dream of being able to wear when I was but a humble maid. I now possessed wonderful gowns of silk, satin and other fine fabrics and I felt so pretty in them.

I dearly wanted to go to dances, but dear Fitzwilliam knew that I was of an age when it would not be right and proper to do so, as I was not out in society and would not be so for a few years at least.

However, Fitzwilliam was concerned that I should be the equal of all the other genteel girls of substance and breeding and as mentioned before, I was to have a governess. Luckily I did not have the governess of Ann De Bourgh who, I heard was not a very nice person and had brought tears to Ann on a number of occasions, but another; Emily Spencer, a genteel woman who due to strained circumstances, deemed it necessary to find work. Miss Spencer was about five and twenty years of age and was of a pleasant nature and knew many of the things deemed necessary for me to eventually be allowed out into society as a well rounded young woman. I will not bore you, dear reader with the details of my education as; no doubt, you will have experienced something similar.

It had been some weeks since I had sent my letter to my sister Julia. I had a brief reply in return to say that she faired well and would write more when she had the time and opportunity. But there was something, was the letter tear stained?

One morning at breakfast, I told my brother of my concerns about Julia and whether she was happy where she was.

‘You have reasons for your concerns?’

‘Yes; her aunt and uncle are not what one would call of an affectionate nature. When I was under their roof, they made no secret of their dislike of me. My mother also had concerns about them but she did not voice any specifics. Julia had not recovered from her sickness and had to go and live with them, as she was no longer strong enough to work as a maid. It was very charitable for them to take her in, but I sensed that it was only out of family duty rather than any deep love that they had for her.

‘The only correspondence that I have received from Julia gives me no hint as to her happiness and I am very concerned for her. We are close, as close as any sisters can be, I feel so guilty that I am here with you dear Fitzwilliam and she might be in a place where there is no love.’

My brother thought for a moment and then turned to me.

‘You wish for me to make enquires as to her position?’

‘I would much rather visit her and see for myself.’

He looked at me with brotherly concern and then smiled.

‘You feel well enough to go and see her?’

‘I believe so, if you are willing to accompany me.’

‘I would not allow you to go by yourself and I will, of course, accompany you. We shall go early tomorrow. I did have plans to go hunting, but the pheasant’s can wait until next week. Leave everything to me.’

I will forgo description of the journey, dear reader, as the roads travelled were similar to the ones used when going to my mothers’ funeral. Indeed, we stayed at the same inns, although we had the best rooms rather than the cheapest! I cannot say that I was not tired at the end of the journey, but as we were using our own coach and four, it was at least as comfortable as it could possibly be.

And so it happened that I found myself back at Upper Lowerbury and at the house of Uncle William and Aunt Sophie. Nothing much had changed and it was much as I had remembered it.

I waited in the coach when my brother knocked upon the door. The door opened and there, I could see, was Aunt Sophie.

I did not hear what was said, but Fitzwilliam was let into the house. It had been decided that I would not accompany him as they were not aware that I was no longer George and that would have caused both my sister and myself some embarrassment.
He was in the house for some moments and then he hurriedly came over had a few words to say to Masters, our coachman and then entered the carriage.

‘Georgiana, I must be quick. Your sister is not very well and has been badly used by these people. Do you wish her to come with us?’

‘Of all things Brother. Oh what has happened!’

‘No time to talk now; I will go with Masters and assist Julia. Stay here, my dear, as I do not wish you to have anything to do with these people. All will be explained later.

With that he went back into the house with Masters and a short while later, I gasped as they came back carrying my dear Julia between them. She was in a nightgown, one that I could see, even at that distance, was soiled and dirty.

She brought into the carriage and placed on the padded seat opposite me.

‘Oh Julia, what has been done to you?’ I cried as I went to her and hugged her.

She was barely awake and just whispered my name before closing her eyes.

‘Fitzwilliam, what has occurred?’

‘I do not know and her aunt was not willing or able to tell me. It appears that Julia’s uncle is a man that will not be crossed and he would not call out the doctor when your sister became ill once more. Julia will be better off with us and we can care for her and give her the help she needs.’

‘You would do that for her?’

‘Yes, but more than that I would do that for you, my dear sister.’

As I sit here overlooking my splendid park and gardens at Longmere, all that I have written has brought back many memories some bad, but many good.

My childhood was a strange one, stranger than most I would wager. I suppose my complete happiness started with the rescue of Julia. She spoke little of the time spent with her aunt and uncle. It appears that they used her cruelly as an unpaid servant, even though she went to them for comfort and support after her terrible illness.

The menial work that Julia had been forced to do in her delicate health made her grow ill again and at the time when my dear brother plucked her from the clutches of that terrible pair, she was weak, starving and close to death once more. But, in herself, glowed a strong will to live and gradually, under the guidance of the doctors and the good nurse Benson, she regained her health and vitality.

How anyone could treat a close relative like that was beyond my comprehension, but I was still but a child and had a rosy view on life despite all that had happened, which, luckily for me, has still not left me.

Fitzwilliam wanted to take the matter further regarding the ill treatment of Julia. Indeed, being a magistrate he could have used his influence to make things very uncomfortable for Julia’s aunt and uncle. However, Julia herself asked that they be left in peace, not wanting to show to the world that members of her family could be such hurtful people.

A few years after the events detailed before, Julia married the local vicar, a Mister Childs; unlike a certain other vicar who had the partronage of my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, he was a kind, gentle man with a ready wit and above all, the love of my sister. They have but three children and I spoil them whenever I see them.

I will gloss over certain matters regarding Mr Wickham, as another has outlined my involvement with that gentleman and as it is a painful episode in my life, I draw a line under it and will speak of it no more.

The Honourable Lord Phillip, another person who I do not like to think of, died in a duel about a year after the events described here, following a card game, where he was caught, I understand, with too many aces up his sleeve. I do not think that many mourned his passing.

On a happier note, my darling brother Fitzwilliam married Elizabeth Bennett after certain silly misunderstandings involving pride on the one part and prejudice on the other. I was so happy for them both. For myself, I had another dear sister who I love and cherish and two more children to lavishly spoil.

I look down on the lawn where my husband, Arthur, Lord Heaversham is playing with Elizabeth and Julia, our two daughters and smile contentedly. Arthur is a handsome man, who I loved almost on first sight at the Spring Ball we held at Pemberton some eight and a half years ago. He said that he loved me as soon as he saw me too, but I believe that it was after I trod on his feet twice that he truly fell for me!

I am so happy now and I feel blessed that I have the love of my family. I never could have thought in my wildest dreams that a small boy, brought up in a forge could possibly be in the position I now find myself to be.

There is a whimpering beside me and I smile as I look down at my youngest child Fitzwilliam, in his cot. Picking him up, I feed him. He is always a hungry child just like his father and he will, in the fullness of time and God willing, take over the estates and be the next Earl of Heaversham. I know that the doctors thought that I might not be able to bear them, but I have spent a large amount of my married life awaiting the birth of my children.

Fitzwilliam has now fallen asleep holding on to my little finger. I should put him back into his cot. Nurse sometimes chastises me for wanting to hold my baby so much, but I am firm on that point. Children need all the love that they can receive from their parents and I intend to give all the love that I can possibly give, no matter how old my darling children get, while there is still breath in my body.

My husband looks up from his rather energetic play with our boisterous girls in their pretty white dresses, hairs all beribboned. I will ask one of the maids to take them their bonnets, for the day is hot and there heads unprotected.

They are going to break hearts one day, but for now, they are just happy to play as children should and not worry about the future.

Arthur glances up and sees me, then he smiles and waves; little Elizabeth and Julia join in and copy their papa. I wave back happily. My baby snores slightly in his sleep, his little thumb in his mouth. I am sure that he is smiling.

Life is so good to me.

---

 
THE END

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* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Georgiana looks like this.