Chapter 16

Pemberley

March 1852

And so, life in Derbyshire continued on until March, when suddenly a battered express letter arrived. The entire household was in the drawing room before dinner. As a rare occurrence, Colonel Brandon was in attendance, looking like a shade of himself as usual. Timothy brought the letter to Elizabeth. It was written in an unfamiliar female hand. "It is an express posted from Ireland," Elizabeth announced, as she opened the letter. After she reviewed its contents, she began to read aloud in a shaking voice.

Wicklow Edge,

County Wicklow, Ireland

Dear Lady Darcy,

The Earl of Clive has died, and there is a lady here, his wife, and I believe she belongs to you. I know not her maiden name, not even her Christian name, she has never spoken it, she is only known in the house as "her ladyship" and she isn't allowed to leave the second floor unaccompanied.

I have encouraged her to write to you, she says you are her sister, but after the letters she wrote when she first came went unanswered, she fell into despair, and believes you have forgotten her. She refuses to try again fearing pain and disappointment. I remembered your direction from seeing it on a letter she wrote when she came. I hope it is correct. She's been treated well, but she hasn't been allowed to see a soul since she arrived, and he made me give her nerve tonics every day that I do not believe she needs. His lordship's manner was funny when he took the letters from her. I am certain he never meant them to be sent.

She is a kind lady, she taught me to read and write proper and fine like a real lady's maid, and encouraged his lordship to pay me a proper wage so I might help my family survive the famine. I am sure I do not know what will happen to them now. I am using everything I have to send this express, and I will have nothing to give them now to buy food, but the footman Conor has taken over the house, and he has informed no one of his lordship's passing. Just locked the door to the master's apartments, and set himself up as the new master. I know not how long he plans to continue this folly.

I do not believe her ladyship ought to stay here. Conor is a drunkard, and I know not what he plans to do with her, but if she is your sister, you ought to come get her as soon as you can. Eventually he will run through the wine cellar, and the brandy, and then Lord knows what he will do next. She's a right nice lady. I hope you come help her. She has been desperately unhappy since she came, and she says all the time how she misses her sisters.

Your Servant,

Nancy Corrigan

Elizabeth looked up in shock. "Clive," she said to Colonel Brandon in a shaking voice.

"The gambler," he said, staring at the letter as if it would suddenly burst into flames.

Will spoke up. "Is that name familiar, Elizabeth? Is that something important you've recognized?"

Bingley interjected, "But surely you have received similar letters, hundreds of them, perhaps! What is different about this one?"

Elizabeth took a shaking breath. "When the Queen's secretary went through the duke's papers, he found vowels and evidence of calling in a massive debt from a gambler who then killed himself. The gambler was the Earl of Clive's son."

"I questioned the son's wife, his steward, and his parish vicars." Brandon said, disbelieving. "Even the local priest. I spoke to the mayor, the local spinsters even! His wife insisted that after her husband's death, the bailiffs never came for them. The family presumed Leeds had his apoplexy before he was able to arrange it. I went to the father's house in County Wicklow. I was not permitted entrance, but was assured by all who lived nearby that the elderly man was in extremely poor health, and unable to see me. I questioned his parish curate and local priest as well. I searched all the church records! No one knew anything about a new lady who seemed out of place or arrived suddenly! More than half of Ireland is starving to death, half a loaf of bread would be more than enough to compel anyone to turn over their own mother to the devil himself!"

"Clive has property in County Kildare as well, I believe, as well as other locations in England and Ireland." Darcy informed them. "One is close to the Darcy estate in Ireland. It is possible he married her there, or at one of his other properties."

Now that the moment had come the entire household was silent in shock. Suddenly Colonel Brandon let out a scream of anguish and frustration, then lifted a small table and hurled it into a mirror hanging upon the wall, destroying the small but priceless trinkets on the shelf before it, and making most of the ladies cry out in alarm.

Elizabeth gave no reaction to this. She fervently wished she could break something as well. "We have to leave," she said suddenly. "We have to leave at first light. Will, we must prepare to leave immediately! Richard, will you come? I must speak to Banks and Wilson."

"I have to leave NOW!" Colonel Brandon rasped. "There is not a moment to be lost! My horse! My horse, immediately man!" He went to the door and called out to the footman in the hall.

"Brandon, be reasonable, it is not even close to the full moon, you must wait until morning," Richard attempted to reason with his longtime friend, but Brandon was already going to pace in the great hall.

Elizabeth followed and said, "Colonel, let us all go, together! We shall leave at first light! Let us all go to her together!"

"No, no, NO! I must leave this very moment! I need not clothes, nor anything! I have money, I can buy what I need. There is not a moment to lose! I must go now!" Brandon was nearly incoherent as he paced the hall. "My horse!" he bellowed. "Where in the bloody hell is my damned horse!"

Elizabeth turned to another footman, "Run and have them saddle Wilson's horse as well, and tell them to bring them out at the same time," she instructed the man. She then ran to her study, opened her strongbox, and removed a purse full of money. She returned to the hall where servants were starting to gather, drawn by the noise and bellowing, and approached Wilson.

"I am sorry that you have no time to pack or prepare. Go with him, Wilson, make sure he is alright, and make the journey as easy and safe as you can. Make sure he does not get himself hurt or killed, and leave messages and horses for us when you can. We shall follow at first light."

Wilson assured her that it was quite alright, and that he would go unprepared and gladly if it would bring Miss Bennet home. Kitty was the only Miss Bennet in the house. Another servant had made the mistake of calling Lydia Miss Bennet once when she first arrived, and had received the tongue lashing of the century. Lydia refused to step into her sister's name in her absence. When Elizabeth pointed out to Lydia that she had been unfair to the maid because technically, if Kitty was absent, it was natural for society to refer to her as Miss Bennet, Lydia had shrieked that she would not have it, and word had spread among the household quickly.

The horses were brought round, and Elizabeth had also run into the dining room, tied rolls and meat into napkins, and brought them out for the men to carry with them, thankful that the courses had been brought up, as they had had no dinner. Brandon leapt onto his horse without a word of farewell, and tore off into the darkness, Wilson close on his heels.

The family returned indoors, and pandemonium reigned as everyone began talking at once in the great hall. Elizabeth asked the head footman to have the courses and decanters left on the sideboard, and to dismiss the footmen until she rang for them. She then herded the family into the dining room. Banks began directing Sarah and Watson to begin packing for Elizabeth and Darcy, and began arranging for grooms and carriages to be prepared for a journey as he waited for more specific instructions.

The family served themselves, and talked amongst each other and over each other in excitement and apprehension. This was not the first time a line of information had seemed certain. They had been bitterly disappointed many times over, to Elizabeth's despair. When they were all seated, Elizabeth managed to quiet everyone and spoke. "Darcy and I will leave at first light. Richard, Mary, will you accompany us?"

As Mary and Richard agreed immediately, Mrs Bennet spoke up quietly. "I beg your pardon, but I will accompany you."

When Elizabeth argued that Mrs Bennet was a notoriously uncomfortable traveller, the lady shouted her down, for once resembling the shrill woman she had once been. Next Lydia began loudly declaring that she would not be left behind, and that she would go. As Elizabeth, Darcy, and Richard began to explain that if too many came, it would slow the journey, which none of them would wish, Jane began to insist that they must all go together to fetch Kitty home, and that she and Charles were certainly coming too, even if she had to nurse little Catherine in the carriage the entire way.

It was declared by Elizabeth's stepmother and sisters that the decision had been made. They all decided that no one would pack a trunk. They would each pack a small valise with only a few days of travelling clothes, and they would all leave their maids and valets at home, helping each other as they had done at Longbourn. That would make the journey much lighter, leaving the luggage and personal servants behind. Only Jane's nursemaid, Sarah, and Hill would go to help Elizabeth and the ladies care for Kitty, if she needed it. It sounded like a maid was caring for her, but they wanted to bring a few servants from home that Kitty knew well. The maid who had served Kitty when she lived at Pemberley briefly had married a man from her home village, who had been finally given a living.

The men's horses would travel with the outriders, and they would ride with them most of the way, lightening the load on the carriages, and giving Jane privacy for nursing. Elizabeth knew not how they would find accommodations on the road for eight travellers, three personal servants, a dozen outriders and grooms, and one tiny infant.

The next morning arrived, and the family was in the carriages before the dawn. They did not even break their fast, baskets of food and cider having been provided by the kitchens for breakfast and lunch. Georgiana, Charlotte, and Granny had all been there to wave them off, sending all manner of messages for Kitty, and assuring Elizabeth and Darcy of the children's well- being in their absence. The journey took three days, and each night the family had to split up among the available inns in each village due to them having not sent word ahead. Horses were also a problem. Changes of four horses per carriage at each stop proved nearly impossible, even though Wilson and Brandon had left their horses behind for them at the first stop, and Wilson had reserved as many horses as they could in advance of the party along the road. Elizabeth still purchased several horses from local farmers at more than twice their value in order to obtain what they needed at different stops along the way, and lose no time in their travels.

*****

A few days later, at an estate called Wicklow Edge, in County Wicklow, Ireland, a young lady sat in a chair and looked out of the window over what her husband had proudly called "The Garden of Ireland." He had been very proud of the lovely scenery, and that at the very least, he could provide a stunning vista for his wife's artistic enjoyment. Her art studio had been moved from one corner to another of the second floor twice, so that she always had new views to sketch and paint. He had been a kind man, the young lady mused as she sat quietly and contemplated what might happen to her now.

She ought to feel sad about her husband's demise, but though he had not been cruel, she could not but hope that her freedom might now somehow be secured, though she knew not where she would go. Corrigan kept badgering her to write to her sister, but the young woman had written dozens of letters that had all gone unanswered. Corrigan had sworn she did not believe that the letters had ever been sent, but the young lady could not bear to try again and be disappointed. Her heart could bear no more. If she wrote again and her sisters ignored her, it would be more than she could stand. She knew not what would happen to her next, but anything was better than another bitter disappointment.

One morning, Nancy had come to tell her that her husband had died in his sleep. Later, instead of contacting his solicitors or family, the footman Conor had locked the doors to the master's suite, and set himself to drinking his way through the wine cellar.

Nancy only left the young woman's rooms when she was sure he was unconscious, to obtain food from the kitchens. She had been terrified to go out and leave the estate to send the express, but she felt she must, before something happened to her ladyship. She had managed to go and return before anything happened; indeed, Conor had been exactly where she left him when she returned. She shuddered to think what might have happened if he had awoken and chosen to go upstairs while she was gone.

Nancy Corrigan hated Conor. There was good reason for her ladyship to feel uncomfortable when he looked at her. Corrigan had physically disabused him of the idea of attempting to harm her or her ladyship on several occasions long before his lordship died. Thankfully, the knowledge she had gained fighting with her brothers when she had been young had served her well. It had been some time since Conor had attempted to put his hands upon her, and she made certain he understood that she would protect her mistress as well. The evil man drank his wages each quarter, and his parents had starved in the famine some time ago, due to his disinterest in helping them.

Corrigan was certain her family would starve as well, and that she would eventually starve with them. They were tenants of the estate, and his lordship had not been a hard master, he had waived the rents since the famine had taken hold. However, he did nothing else to assist his tenants since the worst of the famine had taken hold of the country. The wages of Nancy Corrigan and her two older brothers had been little enough, but they had helped. Now she would have no wages, she had used the last of her funds to send the express, and she was sure that once her ladyship had moved on or been claimed by her family, that she would be unable to find work. With the cost of food being so high, many wealthy families had learned to do for themselves rather than use precious funds to pay or feed servants, and so there was very little work to be had. Often what work there was, was unpaid, for employers considered you to be fortunate to have the job if they could feed you.

The young lady continued to sit quietly by the window. A horse and a rider, two of them in fact, were coming from very far down the lane, she saw through the looking glass her husband had given her. The riders would take more than another quarter hour to reach the house, even at a gallop. She wondered if they were indeed coming here, and what would happen when they arrived if they were.

Suddenly a pounding began upon her chamber door. She jumped, startled, but it was not the first time it had happened. The footman had pounded upon the door many times over the last days, but usually was too drunk to break it down, and would give up after a few minutes. She knew eventually he would enter the room, and she was terrified of the idea. She knew what he wanted.

This was it. As the footman bellowed angrily and attempted to batter the door down, she knew that he would soon enter the room. She reached under the cushion and found a knife she had taken from a tray and hidden in the cushions. There were many about the apartment. She was even reasonably certain that Nancy had noticed she had taken them on many occasions, and Lord knew what the maid thought she might do with them, but she had said nothing. She was alone in the chamber. Corrigan had left some time ago for food and water, and had yet to return. She was alone. And that horrid man was outside the door.

Eventually after several minutes of the man bellowing and abusing the door, the casing cracked, and the door burst open. She knew not how he even stood up; he was so drunk. She could smell the sour wine and spirits from across the room, and as he made his way across the room towards her, she slid the knife up her sleeve and began to back away, as he came forward, giggling and muttering about how long he had wished to take her. After a moment of circling each other, the drunken footman roared and charged at her.

She thought she might faint from fear, but suddenly she remembered all she had been taught by Miss Carmichael. Her body remembered how to defend itself, and suddenly she was fighting as she never had before. Her hair fell down about her face as she struggled for her life. Conor slammed her into a wall, choking in rage as she punched him hard in the throat, and he gagged, but it had not been hard enough to properly choke him.

Her hand reached out, and she felt the large and heavy oriental vase upon the nearby shelf. She used all of her strength, and brought the vase crashing down upon his head. He staggered away. She knew not how he was still conscious after the blow she had caused to his head, but somehow, he was still upon his feet, though bleeding profusely. She had lost the knife. It had been idiotic of her to believe she was skilled enough to use it to defend herself. She was not Lizzy!

As she cursed her own stupidity, she looked about desperately, searching for something else to use to defend herself when suddenly there was a shockingly loud bang, and there was Corrigan, standing in the doorway, holding a smoking pistol.

The women stood for a moment in shock, watching blood pool about the man on the floor. Suddenly she could taste bile, and felt as if she might lose the contents of her stomach. She stumbled toward the window. The riders. Where were they? Were they coming here? She no longer needed the looking glass to see them. They appeared to be coming toward the manor at a gallop. Suddenly she thought for a moment that one, no both of them, seemed vaguely familiar, but they were not close enough to see their faces under their hats, even with the looking glass. Suddenly another wave of nausea washed over her, and she retched, trying desperately to gain control of her stomach.

*****

Desperate suddenly to feel fresh air and sun upon her face, she pushed past Corrigan, who made no effort to stop her. She knew not where to go, following her instincts as she fled down the stairs, and pushed her way out of the front door into the sunlight. Corrigan followed. As she stumbled into the park, she fell to her hands and knees, gasping as if she had never tasted air before. Corrigan was sobbing as she fell to her knees as well, and put her arms about the woman she had served for more than two years. "Your ladyship… It will be alright… It will be alright…"

"Do not call me that anymore, Corrigan," The young woman breathed as she tasted the air of freedom for the first time in far too long. "It is not my name."

"But you've never told me your name, ma'am," Corrigan hiccupped.

She stood and turned around as hoofbeats thundered up the drive, and there he was. With her sister's servant following close on his heels. It was him. For hundreds of nights, when she had dreamed of being rescued, it was always him. She had somehow known that if she was ever saved, he would be there. And here he was. He leapt off his horse and raced to her. "Catherine!" As he cupped her face the two fell to their knees, and tears rolled down his face and hers as he said, "Catherine. I am sorry. I was here a year and a half ago. I questioned everyone. The vicar, the priest. The footman. Did he hurt you? You look like you've been hurt. Catherine… Darling Kitty, please, tell me… Are you hurt?"

"Catherine! Your name is Catherine!" Corrigan cried, and suddenly the two women were hugging and sobbing, and Nancy Corrigan was begging her forgiveness for her part in the matter, and Kitty was shushing her and thanking her for all of her kindness, when she could have been quite cruel if she had wished to be.

"Your name is Catherine!" Corrigan laughed and cried all at once. Kitty stood and held out her hand to help the maid up.

"Call me Kitty, Corrigan," she replied. "My name is Kitty Bennet." And suddenly she felt it all wash away. No longer was she ‘the young lady' or ‘her ladyship' or ‘the mistress.' Finally, she could once again be Kitty Bennet. She turned back to Colonel Brandon, "How?" she asked hoarsely. She had barely used her voice for years, as she had sat quietly in her chair by the window, there had rarely been reason to talk. Already in just a few moments, she had spoken more than she had all month.

"Your maid," Brandon gestured to the girl. "Your sister received an express at Pemberley from your maid, she used all her funds to send it, believing Clive had never sent the others you wrote."

Again, Kitty and Corrigan were laughing, crying, and hugging one another. Even Wilson received a well-deserved hug for all the miles he had spent on the road for two years in search of her, and the servant struggled to maintain a dry eye. After a few moments, when the ladies had begun to collect themselves, Brandon inquired about the cause of the bruises and injuries to Kitty's face, and the ladies related the events of the last several days, particularly the last half hour, to the men.

Brandon decided not to enter the house without the magistrate. He did not wish to be accused of tampering. Nancy assured him that there were no servants left, there had only been a cook and two other maids. They all left except herself and Conor when Clive had died. They had stolen all the food they could carry, but Nancy had managed to steal the cook's keys to the larder, and hid them the moment she heard of his lordship's death, and that is what had saved them from starvation. She already had the housekeeper's keys in her possession since the woman had been sent away some time ago.

Conor had stayed so drunk, Nancy had found she could keep him from forcing entry to the larder simply by leaving the wine cellar open and leaving a reasonable amount of food out on a table in the kitchens each day. As long as the man had ample wine and enough to eat when he remembered to do so, he did not care. He spent his days and nights drinking as much as he possibly could, and packing his Lordship's treasures in chests that he dragged downstairs from the attics, to be loaded onto the master's carriage, and taken with him when the brandy and food ran out and he made his escape. Nancy had no idea what horses he planned to take, if it were not for her going out each day to feed and water the poor beasts, they would be dead by the time Conor remembered them, and because she could not take them out or exercise them, she was certain they were in a lamentable state, but she had done what she could to keep them from starving in their stalls due to Conor's drunkenness.

There was no one to refer to on the estate, no steward, no butler, not even a hall boy. Nancy decided the best way forward would be to lead Wilson to her father's house, which was a few miles away. Her father sent the likeliest pair of her younger brothers running to the magistrate's estate. Wilson was quite appalled by the state of Nancy's family, but at the same time, he had been horrified ever since he had entered Ireland. The famine had raged for four years, and the sight of so many starving people was worse than appalling. There were no words for it.

Thankfully Nancy's family were in somewhat better shape than those they had previously seen. He and Brandon had not eaten a bite since leaving the ship a day ago. How could you put food to your mouth, a well fed, healthy man, while making eye contact with someone who was near death? Surrounded by dying children? The ship captain had insisted upon them each taking a large sack of food with them. They had both given it all away on the journey, Brandon holding back a small portion in case Kitty was starving also when she was found.

Nancy's father returned with them to the manor, where Brandon and Catherine were patiently waiting and talking in the gardens like they might never have another opportunity. Eventually the boys returned hanging from the back of the magistrate's carriage. The man stepped down, and Brandon introduced himself, then gave a brief explanation of events, minus the bit about Kitty being sold to the earl or having been missing for two years.

The magistrate questioned the maid, who affirmed that his lordship had died, the only footman had locked his body in his chamber, and set to drinking and taking over the house. The only other servants had fled in fear, and Nancy had written to her ladyship's family, and later shot the footman in defence of her mistress, with his lordship's pistol.

After seeing poor Kitty's bruises, tumbled hair, and battered gown, the magistrate seemed to accept this story, and entered the house with the gentlemen, while Kitty and Nancy waited with Mr Corrigan in the garden. Kitty had no desire to return to the house ever again. The gentlemen were gone for some time, but when they finally returned, they agreed that everything they had observed corroborated with the story that had been given. The magistrate said there would be no inquest, and invited them to stay at his home for the night. Thankfully, Kitty would not need to return to the house, and Elizabeth's party was invited to stay as well when they arrived.

The magistrate seemed delighted to host an earl and countess, but was slightly concerned that they might find the hospitality lacking, because like most households, they had dismissed many of their servants, and meals were heavily rationed for all. Kitty assured him that her sister, while not being mean in any way, was quite practical, and that anyone travelling with her would know their way around making their own bed, and would find whatever fare that was available, acceptable. Indeed, she also had been accustomed to plain and simple fare at the manor.

Kitty knew of the famine, though she had seen none of it, never leaving the estate. The earl had not helped his tenants other than waiving the rents, but neither did he even attempt to waste funds eating decadently during the crisis. She did not remember the journey here, but Nancy had told her much about the blight. Kitty was still shocked at the sight of Nancy's father and little brothers. The magistrate instructed Nancy's father to empty the larder and distribute the food to as many families on the estate as it would stretch.

When the Darcys and their family arrived in Liverpool, Elizabeth learned that Wilson had the presence of mind to drag Brandon to her shipyard and obtain passage on one of her own ships. A captain was waiting for her party and once he received word from the boys he had watching the roads for them, he presented himself at the inn and assured Elizabeth that he had one of her fastest ships waiting to conduct her party personally to Dublin. Captain Eugene Harrison had not anticipated such a large party to be travelling, but once he had obtained all of the particulars, he returned to the shipyard, assuring Elizabeth that all was well in hand to depart on the very next tide. Darcy and Richard had to admit that being married to an industry and shipping tycoon had its merits.