42

20 August, 1807

Pemberley, Derbyshire

Jane and Charles arrived at Pemberley early in the afternoon on the day that marked two years since the Lucas twins’ birth. Charlotte was expected to arrive before dinner, having written ahead of some delay at the last coaching inn.

The Darcys had asked their cook to delay serving the evening meal, and they waited anxiously with the Bingleys in the drawing room as the weather turned for the worse. A peal of thunder echoed and lightning flashed in the large window, and then Charlotte Goulding was shown in by a footman. A man in a cloak trailed behind her, the hood hanging low on his downturned face; Elizabeth momentarily supposed that Charlotte had brought her husband.

But when the footman offered to take the wet cloak, the man turned and doffed his outerwear, then dismissed the servant, pulling the drawing room doors closed. Charles and Jane were already calling out their greetings to Charlotte, but the room fell silent as the gentleman turned to face them. Elizabeth’s mouth hung agape as she stared across the room at Oliver Lucas.

“I do hope you will forgive my dramatic entrance, though I can no more claim the credit of making it rain than your mother, Lizzy,” Olly said with a broad grin.

Charlotte fixed her brother with a look of supreme irritation before crossing the room and sitting beside Elizabeth. “I have thought of little else but how to tell you…. There did not seem a gentle way to go about it.”

But Elizabeth did not take her eyes off her husband – her first husband. Finally she glanced over at her other husband and beheld pure terror on his visage. She turned back to Olly and stammered, “You are alive.”

Charles had been standing near the window, and he took a few steps closer to his old friend, drawing him into a hearty embrace. “Good God! You are not dead!”

Olly clapped Charles on the back, but his gaze did not leave Elizabeth. “You are both correct.”

Jane Bingley gave a little groan and proceeded to faint, and Charles rushed to her aid.

Darcy had not moved; Elizabeth wished to go to him, and yet she, too, could not tear her gaze away from Olly. He seemed to sense this, and moved closer, until he was standing near enough to extend one hand to Elizabeth and the other to Darcy. “I was delighted when I heard news of your marriage.”

Elizabeth took Olly’s proffered hand, but Darcy did not. He looked over at Elizabeth with a wild tumult of sadness and anger in his eyes as he said, “It would seem we are not married, after all.”

“You certainly are,” Olly replied. “In the eyes of the law, Oliver Lucas died at Trafalgar. You are wed before God and all the world, and I have not returned to challenge you. Will you not shake hands with me, my old friend?”

Elizabeth knew not whether she would soften her husband or wound him further by embracing Olly, but she rose on shaking legs and did just that. Her mind was awhirl with thoughts and questions, but the dearest friend of her youth was not dead, and she wished only to celebrate that before she was forced to ponder the ramifications. She held him for as long as he allowed her before he gave a little gesture of his head for her to sit down beside Darcy.

Elizabeth sat close to Darcy and took his hand in hers. “I suppose Olly has quite a story to share with us,” she said to him.

Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand in hers, and he turned to look at her with sheer torment in his face. He did not need to speak for her to understand what he was feeling, but finally he said, “I have lost too many people that I care about. I mourned for you, Olly, even as I grieved for my father and brother. I wish to be glad for your safe return, but not at the cost of my wife and family.”

Olly drew a chair near the Darcys and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I am sorry for the pain I caused you, Will. I am sorry that it hurt you to believe me lost, though I confess I hoped your sorrow at my death would be eased by a reunion with Elizabeth. And I am not, as you see, actually dead. Of all the loved ones you have lost, one has come back – can you not rejoice? As far as any of us need be concerned, Oliver Lucas is dead. I have lived for nearly two years now as Thomas Nelson, a gentleman farmer in North Carolina, near Wilmington. I have made a new life for myself, and I have no intention of reclaiming my old one.”

Charles had roused Jane, who now leaned against her husband and asked, “Why would you abandon my sister? And your own children, Olly!”

“I married Elizabeth because she believed Will had married another. I have always cared for her as a sister, and I wished to give her a chance at a good life, children and a home of her own. And I had my own heart broken; I believed myself equally forsaken by John Drake.” Here he turned to the Bingleys, a look of resolution on his countenance. “Perhaps you heard certain rumours in Meryton – they were not without foundation, though my marriage to Elizabeth quieted the worst of the gossip. But neither of us ever forgot our first love.”

Elizabeth tightened her grip on Darcy’s hand and looked at him, nodding sadly. She had admitted as much to Darcy in the early months of their marriage, that despite her contentment with Olly, she had always held a space for him in her heart. She smiled as she saw Darcy’s thunderous expression soften.

“When I saw you in London a couple months before Trafalgar, I was surprised to learn you had not wed your cousin Lady Amelia, for it had been in the papers just before Lizzy and I wed – it was why she accepted me. We did not speak long, but our encounter haunted me,” Olly said, running a hand through his hair as he continued to pace. “I was in London to attend meetings at the Office of the Admiralty, planning our attack on the French. I think you can guess whom I spoke to about you.”

Darcy sat up straighter, comprehension in his eyes. “I had recommended you to my uncle’s notice when we first returned to England.”

“Lord Ambrose Russell is one of the best men I have ever known,” Olly said with a nod. “I told him everything.”

“Including your other chance encounter in London,” Charlotte prompted her brother.

“Yes. The day after I saw you at the club, John Drake came to visit me. What I say to you all is at great risk to more than myself, and may shock you all exceedingly – I must beg you all to recollect our friendship and the love I bear you,” Olly said, looking especially at Charles, who had ever been ignorant of Olly’s particular predilection.

“I had loved John for years, and it crushed me when I heard that he had wed his cousin. I read of it in the papers, rather than hearing of it from himself. He asked my forgiveness, told me that he had not known what to say to me at the time. His marriage was no more a love match than my own, borne of warm affection and a desire to help a worthy woman. His cousin is like him; Mrs. Drake prefers the company of her own sex. She had been found out and her family was furious, and he acted rashly out of a regard for her from their childhood – he had thought only of protecting Marjorie when her inheritance was threatened. Before he could explain himself to me, I responded in kind by attaching myself to Elizabeth, and he had seen with his own eyes how fond I am of her, for he was at the Meryton assembly. I am not entirely like John and Marjorie – I find the company of men and women equally agreeable. And so John had believed himself the wounded party. It was all a horrid mess.”

“You… oh!” Charles cried in surprise. Jane gave him a wary look, and he relaxed a little, his countenance rueful. “Well, of all people, I shall certainly not judge you for it,” he said. His eyes darkened, and Elizabeth wondered if he was thinking of his fateful night with Caroline.

“I am remarkably fortunate that my friends are so open-minded,” Olly replied, bowing his head in gratitude. “But at the time of all this, I was not feeling so lucky. I thought myself the cause of three other people’s misery, as well as my own. I was not unhappy with you, Lizzy, and I do not think you were, either. But I had seen the envy in Darcy’s eyes, and I knew he would have come back for you if I had not wed you.”

“I did come back for her,” Darcy said softly. “I was too late; I arrived just in time to witness your wedding. I had printed a retraction of the supposed engagement to my cousin, which was a scheme of my Aunt Catherine’s to force me to oblige her wishes.”

“We stopped reading the society pages after hearing of the betrothals,” Elizabeth sighed. “We never saw the retraction.”

Olly looked pained, and muttered an oath. “I knew you loved her still, when I saw you in London, and when I discovered that John still felt for me what I had not ceased to feel for him, I confided my own wretchedness to the wisest man I knew, Lord Russell. He was aware of my… particular affinities, but his romantic sensibilities are fortunately greater than his prudence. He spoke to me about you at length, Will. He and his wife had not been able to visit Pemberley when your father and brother died, for Lady Isabel had delivered a stillborn around that time. But he had heard from Lady Anne and he knew what you and your sister suffered. We drank late into the night together, and contrived a way that I might put it all to rights.”

Elizabeth gasped and then grinned up at him, shaking her head as if it was merely Olly up to his old antics. “You conspired to fake your death. Lord Russell told me he was there, when the casualties were brought ashore.”

“He bid me Godspeed, and agreed to count me amongst the dead,” Olly confirmed with a nod. “I knew that you and Will would find your way back to one another.”

“My uncle encouraged me to renew my friendship with Charles,” Darcy murmured.

“He was your link to Elizabeth,” Olly said with a smile.

“You were right to trust me with the rest,” Charles said. “When I heard from Will, my first thought was that Lizzy was a widow, and Jane and I instantly set to work planning their reunion, did we not, my love?”

Jane smiled at her husband, then she looked to Charlotte. “But how long have you known of this?”

“Olly wrote to me a few months after our younger half-brother died of fever last February. He heard of it through Mrs. Drake, who had heard in a roundabout sort of way through some mutual acquaintance – I believe she met the Lucases a couple months after Trafalgar. Olly wrote me a letter of condolence, and explained the whole truth. And then a month later, you began to plan your house party.”

Elizabeth stared up at Olly with wonder before rising and embracing him once more. This time, tears poured down her face. “You did all this for me, that William and I might finally be together?”

“And John and I, yes.”

“But how have you been living? You gave up so much!”

“I put aside some money, for there was a considerable sum left over from my prize-winnings even after I purchased Netherfield. After Lord Russell agreed to conceal my survival – for I certainly intended on surviving the battle – I spoke with your Uncle Gardiner, who invested half of my fortune on behalf of the twins. The other half I liquidated and took with me to America. Combined with what the Drakes were able to get for selling their small estate in Scotland, we were able to purchase ten thousand acres in North Carolina, and build a fine house for the four of us – John and I, and Marjorie and her friend Dorothea. To all the world, Marjorie is my sister and Dorothea is John’s sister, and the four of us are most sincerely attached, our own little family, and quite content to share the large farmhouse.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow in confusion. “I do not understand – John and his wife came to Hertfordhsire at Christmas, after he heard of your death. He appeared to believe it to be the truth, else he gave a performance fit for the stage.”

Olly gave a rueful laugh. “That was a ghastly ordeal. We had indeed planned to go to America together before the battle, though the plan went horribly awry. I was to meet John and Marjorie in Aberdeen on the twenty-sixth of November, once I had attended to matters of business in London. I made it to town three days after the battle and stayed a fortnight to make sure everything was in order for our journey to Wilmington. My journey north took far longer than it ought to have. You may recall, we had an early snow that year, and there was a terrible storm that delayed my travel. By the time I reached Aberdeen, John had heard news of my death, which was of course to be expected, but when I failed to appear for our rendezvous for a fortnight, he feared perhaps I had been killed, for he knew I was to remain close to Admiral Nelson. I missed them by only two days – we must have passed on the road. They stopped in Hertfordshire on their way to London, but of course I could not stop as I passed through Meryton. I met with them in London and all was put right. The letter I had asked you to give John was meant only to be given if I had truly perished, but luckily it was full of enough tender sentiment that he forgave me the dreadful fright I gave him.”

Elizabeth smiled over at Darcy, remembering how he had told her of his own similar mishap – he had pursued her all over England after she left Kent. She could see in his eyes that he was thinking of this, too, and it seemed as though this recollection softened him toward Olly, though he did not speak.

“I am glad you were able to find your way back to him, and begin anew in America,” Elizabeth said. “I cannot imagine what an adventure it must be.”

“It is unlike anything I have ever known. Life is harder, but it is invigorating; I enjoy working the land. We have tenant farmers, but it is very different in America. Landowners do a vast deal more labour, the land is new and rugged – what stories I have of the local rustics – and the Indians! I have such tall tales to share with you.”

“Tell me you do not own slaves,” Elizabeth gasped.

“I am far too English for such barbarism,” Olly said at once. “And Dorothea has begun hosting secret meetings for the abolitionists – the local Quakers are rather agreeable in that regard. Before I sailed for England last month, we made arrangements for seven escaped slaves to be transported to a place called Texas, which sounds rather exciting, though it is under Spanish control. No, we have paid farm hands and servants of course, but we work the land ourselves, John and I, and it is more liberating than I can say to be the equal of every man who works alongside us. ‘Tis very American, is it not? Marjorie and Dorothea work, too – they can preserves and sell baked goods, they make candles and sew quilts with their friends, even selling them from time to time. There is a self-sufficiency in our lives that we all find rewarding.”

Elizabeth leaned back against the sofa, marvelling as she imagined the new life Olly had made for himself. She had a thousand questions she wished to ask, and knew that dinner would be a lively affair indeed if he meant to share stories of his unconventional family and their rugged frontier life. At her side, Darcy’s hostility had nearly evaporated. “Why have you come to England?”

“To see my children,” Olly said, as if the answer was perfectly obvious. “To see all of you, in truth, but my twins are two years old, and I have not seen them since their infancy. I have not forgotten them.” He withdrew a miniature from his coat pocket, a painting Kitty had done of the Lucas family just before Trafalgar.

“I always meant to come back – to visit discreetly, as Thomas Nelson. I have grown my beard out, you see, and time will continue to alter my appearance. Someday I might even reside in England once more, but until then I could not allow you to think me dead. I mean to replace the money I took from my children to start anew, for I have prospered beyond anything I imagined in America. And I wish to know them. I only waited because I knew how you would react, Will. I told Charlotte that I meant to wait until you and Lizzy had wed and started a family, for then you would understand that your union is unshakeable. She wrote to me six months ago of the birth of your daughter Annabel. Word travels slowly, back and forth across the Atlantic, but I have come now that I have the surety of convincing you not to let my survival jeopardise your felicity. After all, you have a child to think of.”

“If I had known of your intentions, I would have attempted to dissuade you. I would have insisted that I was content enough in our life together, and I believed I was,” Elizabeth said to Olly. “I have loved you all my life, and our marriage was just what I needed at a crucial time, when all around me was pain and loss. I ought to throttle you for making such a decision without consulting me, but I cannot regret what you have done. Your appearance is greatly altered, but I can see the happiness in you eyes, and my heart rejoices for it.”

“I might say the same of you,” Olly replied. “I knew before the two of you had ever met that you were perfect for one another, let us not forget that! I promised you that your union would come to pass, and I am a man of my word. So, too, is Thomas Nelson, so nothing need have changed. Let neither God nor any man doubt the validity of your second marriage.” This last was addressed chiefly to Darcy, who appeared less agitated, though he had scarcely spoken a word.

Everyone in the room watched Darcy and waited with bated breath until at last Darcy stood and extended his hand for Olly to shake. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nelson. You remind me of an old comrade from my days in the navy, a man whose memory I cherish, and I trust I shall find you just as agreeable a friend.”

***

Olly regaled them all with tales of his American exploits throughout dinner. He spoke of his endeavours to earn the trust of the natives, a tribe called the Waccamaw who lived to the west of his lands in Green Swamp, and displayed an exotic looking beaded necklace which he wore under his shirt, which one of the elder women of the tribe had given him as a talisman of protection for his sea voyage. He described encounters with the wildlife, for the country was untamed and unlike anything in England. They had shot bears, cougars, and coyotes, they regularly hunted beavers and wild turkeys, and had even once encountered an alligator in the swamp. He and John had attempted to distil their own spirits, but nearly blew up the barn and were prevailed upon by Marjorie and Dorothea to abandon that endeavour – now they fermented muscadine wine.

Jane and Charles were content to follow Elizabeth and Darcy’s lead, knowing that their own shock could be nothing to what the Darcys were feeling. But Elizabeth was not the least bit daunted by any apprehension; she felt herself alight with joy at being once again in company with a friend who had, for most of her life, been amongst those nearest and dearest to her. It felt as it had in their youth, not as it was during the brief year of their marriage. Everything was comfortable and amusing, and exactly as it ought to be.

Elizabeth knew that it was her own easy acceptance of Olly’s return that had tempered her husband’s agitation. Darcy’s first thought had been panic and fear that his marriage was invalid, but he had accepted Olly’s reassurances and now seemed to glow with joy at the company of his dearest friend. It was as he had said – they had both lost so many people, it was a miracle that one had come back from the so-called dead.

Charlotte did her part to help her friends grow comfortable with Olly, and Jane even remarked that he had altered so greatly in his rugged appearance that it was like they were meeting a new friend, this utterly American Thomas Nelson, who happened to have a similar disposition to their childhood friend. And so, this was the story they agreed to tell themselves.

Though the Darcys and Bingleys might have been diverted to listen to Olly tell them of his life in America all evening, Olly grew eager to see his children. “I know it is a late hour and they must be sleeping – I promise I shall not wake them, but I wish to at least look in on them and see how they have grown.”

They all crept into the nursery after dinner, careful not to wake the six sleeping children, but Olly stepped on a floorboard the others knew to be creaky and avoided. Diana Bingley gave a sharp cry, and Charles hastened to pick up his tiny six-week-old daughter. Bess Bingley began to stir, and Charlotte lifted the girl in her arms. Charles liked to jest that Lizzy had her twins, while Bess and Diana were his Irish twins, born a few days shy of a year apart. The latter had been named for both Lydia and Lady Webster, for Georgie had become a close friend of Jane’s as the two both shared a more sedate disposition than lively Lydia and Elizabeth. Lydia had suggested they call the girl Lydiana, which had been shortened to Diana, a fusion of the two young womens’ names, for it was only fair after Bess had been named after Elizabeth.

Jane reached for little Marcus, who stood in his little bed and held his arms out for her. She winced at the weight of him, for he was nearly three, and she sank into a chair, resting the boy on her lap, instead, as she introduced him to Mr. Nelson.

Olly admired the three Bingley children, but he was eager to see the others. Annabel Darcy had rolled over onto her back and flailed her arms for Elizabeth, who smiled as she lifted her out of the cradle. “This one never cries, she is a perfect angel. Your children, on the other hand, are unholy terrors,” she teased Olly.

Bennet had stood drowsily and clung to the edge of the crib he shared with Sophia. He laughed and reached a small, pudgy hand toward his father as Olly crouched down and smiled at the boy. “Happy birthday, my boy.” He turned to Elizabeth with tears in his eyes. “Do you think he knows me?”

“He has seen your eyes in his sister’s face all his life, perhaps there is something familiar about you.”

Olly lifted his son into his arms, and Darcy reached for Sophia just as she sat up and opened her mouth to squeal. Instead, she patted his face and said, “Papa.”

Darcy began to look almost apologetic, but Olly shook his head and smiled. “I am honoured that they should have such a father. Honoured and proud, and deeply grateful. Ben shall have Netherfield and Lucas Lodge someday, and there is money for both of them when they come of age – I can at least provide for them – but if there is to be any other man in the world to raise them, it could only be you, Will. I know you will love them and teach them what is right, just as Lizzy will make sure they have a sense of humour.”

Darcy gave a nod, his face betraying his high emotion as he shifted Sophia into his left arm so that he could extend his right hand out to his friend. Olly shook it warmly.

“Now that you know my secret, I hope you will write to me often about them, about all of you and your lives, and everything familiar about England,” Olly said. Then he grinned wickedly before throwing his head back and giving a hoot of laughter. “Perhaps I will come back someday – I am sure I shall. In a dozen years there shall be nobody left in Meryton who will recognize me, altered as I shall appear by then. John and I might leave the farm to the ladies, perhaps he might rent Lucas Lodge from young Bennet, and we can visit you on your trips to Netherfield. John can play the part of a widower, and I shall be his eccentric friend, a French exile, Monsieur Luc Olivier! I shall develop an endearing enthusiasm for Hertfordshire, and remain there as steward to Netherfield, with a snug little cottage on the western border near Lucas Lodge. I shall take an eager interest in your children, and they shall call me uncle!”

“I shall look forward to it,” Elizabeth said. She felt a wave of peace wash over her, and she closed her eyes as she drew Annabel closer. Her second daughter was named for Lady Anne and Aunt Isabel, and she was just as gentle and affectionate. The girl buried her fingers in Elizabeth’s hair and cooed, and Elizabeth gave a hum of contentment. Surrounded by her family, everyone cherishing the sweet children, Elizabeth felt that her life had turned out exactly as it ought to have, for she and her sisters, and both of her husbands.