Chapter Two

July 1812

Lake House

Ramsgate

Elizabeth

Miss Elizabeth Bennet, lately of Longbourn in Hertfordshire, blinked against the bright sunlight streaming into her bedchamber. Confusion reigned for a moment before she recalled she was no longer in her familiar childhood room, but in the luxurious bedchamber of the house her brother-in-law had leased in Ramsgate. Mr Charles Bingley had married Elizabeth’s elder sister Jane just six months ago. The pair were blissfully happy, though Jane’s delicate condition had brought on constant nausea and fatigue, prompting her husband to seek a house near the sea for the duration of her confinement.

Jane had begged Elizabeth to accompany them when they left Netherfield Park a week ago. “I cannot do without you, you know,” she said from her bed when her younger sister had visited her one afternoon. Elizabeth recalled Jane’s pallid complexion and her wan features as she presented her offer. Even if Jane had looked half as miserable as she most certainly was, Elizabeth knew she could never have refused her sister’s request.

“You may rest easy, dearest,” Elizabeth said that afternoon. “I am certain my father can spare me; it will leave only our three younger sisters at home, but he has suffered through such before.”

Jane expressed her gratitude fervently, reaching out to clasp Elizabeth’s hand. “Thank you. It will ease my mind to know that my household will not suffer neglect because of my lack of health.”

“If Aunt Gardiner is to be believed, your illness will not be of long duration. She says the sickness usually subsides after a few months.”

Jane let out a soft snort. “The last few weeks have been trying enough. I can scarcely imagine how I will survive for several more months !”

“Will you be able to endure a carriage ride?” Elizabeth was deeply concerned for Jane; never had she seen her sister look so ill. “Will the rocking and swaying not exacerbate your condition?”

Jane’s face turned a sickly shade of green, and Elizabeth promptly held a bowl under her chin. Jane heaved, though the nausea had long since relieved her of her breakfast. She sat back and used a handkerchief to wipe her lips.

“Mr Jones insists that the sea air will help me,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning into her pillow. “Charles’s physician agrees, and since my husband will not be dissuaded, to the sea we shall go.”

“Have you a location in mind?”

“We have had a letter in reply to our inquiries. There is a house in Ramsgate that has recently come available to lease. Charles will take it for the year. That will give time for the babe to be born and for the little one to grow strong enough to travel home.”

Elizabeth had never been to the sea, and the mention of Ramsgate sent a thrill of excitement through her. “Will you tell me of it?” She blushed a little as she detected the eager pleading in her voice.

Jane smiled serenely. “If the description holds true, it is a handsome house. The residence is in a fashionable location and only minutes from the seaside. Lake House—that is its name—has four family chambers and three guest chambers. At the back of the house lies a pleasing garden, enclosed on three sides by a tall brick wall, offering a sense of privacy while leaving the fourth side open to the sea. The public rooms include a music room, a parlour, a sitting room, dining room, and more.”

“It sounds like a delightful prospect. Is there a lake nearby?”

Jane looked puzzled. “Why do you ask? Is the sea not enough for you?”

Elizabeth swatted her sister playfully and laughed. “I only wonder at the name Lake House. What a peculiar name if the structure is not anywhere near a lake!”

“What a silly thing to quibble about!” Jane laughed, as Elizabeth had intended her to. “I am unsure whence the name comes, but I am certain that there is a logical explanation.”

“When are we to depart?”

Jane’s eyes drifted closed, and she yawned. “Charles would like to leave immediately. I have convinced him to delay for three days. That will give you enough time to ready yourself, and for my dear husband to approach Papa about stealing you away from him.”

“Then I shall leave you now,” Elizabeth replied, wiping a stray lock of hair from Jane’s forehead. “The sooner I pack my trunks, the happier my brother will be!”

“Have him escort you back to Longbourn. He can speak to Papa.”

Elizabeth nodded and stood. She bent and kissed Jane’s forehead and quietly left the room.

That was ten days past. After securing her father’s reluctant consent, Elizabeth had made ready to depart immediately. Her haste pleased her brother, and the little party left Netherfield only two days after Jane had issued her invitation. Their journey had been slow, with frequent stops to ensure Jane’s comfort, but now they had arrived at Lake House and Elizabeth held high hopes that her sister’s condition would soon improve.

Rising from her bed, she rang for a maid, eager to begin her day. Jane had instructed the housekeeper, Mrs Palmer, to speak to Elizabeth on household matters, and Charles had requested that Elizabeth take an inventory of the house and its conditions to forward on to the solicitor. She had promptly completed the task and left the letter on the salver the previous day to be posted. She smiled as she recalled the green tracks on the front stoop, which were no doubt left by a mischievous cat when the groundskeeper painted the railing. Overall, the house was in good order, leaving Elizabeth with little to report in her letter to the solicitor.

The maid assigned to her entered her chamber. She was slight of stature, with corn-yellow hair and rosy cheeks. “Good morning, Susan,” Elizabeth greeted her, and the maid dipped a curtsey in response.

“I believe the blue gown will suit today,” she said, gesturing to the ensemble she had already selected. In a trice, the gown was on, and Susan had fastened the buttons. Elizabeth sat before the mirror, watching as the maid worked miracles on her unruly locks, twisting and pulling them into some semblance of order.

“I am impressed,” she told the maid. “I have never seen one so adept at handling my wild curls!”

“I have had much practise, madam,” Susan replied demurely. “There are several girls here with hair like yours. They let me at their locks occasionally.”

“Time well spent, to be sure,” Elizabeth murmured. “Thank you. I shall be off to break my fast now. Has Mrs Bingley awakened?”

Susan shook her head. “No, madam. Mr Bingley requested no one disturb her until she rings for a maid.”

“Very well, then. I would be foolish not to heed my dear brother’s wishes. Thank you again.” Rising from her seat, she left the room, pausing briefly to recall the way to the dining room. She soon remembered the correct door and joined her brother there.

“Good morning, Lizzy,” Charles said from his place at the table. “How do you do today? Are you rested after our long journey?”

“I am well enough,” she replied. “What a fine spread! Rashers of bacon, scones, eggs, honey ham, and fresh fruit. I must say, I feel quite spoiled!”

“The staff are eager to please. From what I have gathered, the house has been empty for some time.”

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Was it not let to another before now?”

Charles shook his head but did not look up from his plate. “It is a family residence. I do not know why it has been vacant for so long, and I did not think to enquire, but as it is well-maintained, I have no grounds for complaint.”

She shrugged and took her seat at Charles’s left. Once she filled her plate with her favourites, she put a generous helping of fruit preserves on her scone and took a bite. It tasted every bit as heavenly as it smelled, and she sighed in pleasure.

“Have you anything in particular you would like me to accomplish today?” she asked her brother-in-law.

Charles looked up from his plate. “You are not here to be a servant, Lizzy,” he chided teasingly.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I know. But I am here to help Jane and to make things easier for her.”

“I imagine you ought to consult with her on her expectations.” Charles dabbed his lips with his serviette. “Neither of us wishes you to work yourself to the bone whilst you are our guest. Take time to see the ocean and visit the shops. Jane will likely request only that you seek her approval of menus and any large decisions that need to be made. If you can relieve her of the minutiae that does not require her personal attention, that would be ideal.”

Elizabeth nodded and took another bite of her scone. “I will wait until she awakens and then have a discussion with her. I imagine she will be abed for some time. She looked exhausted when we arrived yesterday.”

A look of concern flashed across Charles’s face before his customary smile blossomed. “Jane will be well. It is only a matter of time.”

Elizabeth nodded and wondered who he was trying to convince. Of course, Jane would be well! Women had come through pregnancy since the beginning of time, and her dear sister would be no different.

Once he finished his meal, Charles stood. “I shall be in the study if you have need of me,” he said. “There are a few matters of business I need to attend to. Did you know there was already a letter from Netherfield’s steward waiting for me when we arrived?”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Such is the lot of a landowner. Will you purchase the estate, do you think?”

Her brother shrugged. “It is as good as an estate as any, I suppose. I once considered purchasing farther north, but…” He shook his head. “No matter. I can consider my options this autumn when it comes time to renew the lease.”

“Very prudent,” Elizabeth agreed. “I shall check in on Jane when I am done here.”

Her brother nodded and left the room, leaving Elizabeth to finish her meal in solitude.

Jane was awake when Elizabeth entered her sister’s chamber a half-hour later. She was propped up in bed, her face a pasty white. A flaxen braid cascaded over one shoulder. Had she not looked so dreadfully ill, Elizabeth thought Jane would have presented a charming picture.

“Good morning, Jane dear,” she said softly. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I feel rather dreadful.” Jane’s voice sounded raspy, doubtless from losing the contents of her stomach so many times. “I have such nervous flutterings and my head aches and… Oh! Am I turning into Mama, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth wanted to laugh at Jane’s panicked expression but instantly sought to reassure her sister. “Oh, Jane! You are far too serene to become like our mother. Now, have you attempted to eat anything this morning? I can ring for some toast and ginger tea.”

“That sounds lovely. I hope I can keep it down. Nothing seems to agree with me.”

“I planned to consult with the housekeeper this morning on the menu for the week,” Elizabeth continued. “Do you have any particular requests?”

“Since I very much doubt that I will join you at the dinner table, I leave everything up to you. You might ask Charles for his preferences. However, if there are any decisions you feel unequal to making without my aid, I will step in, but the management of the house is yours, if you have no objections.”

Elizabeth smiled and patted her sister’s hand. “Very well. I will ring for your toast and tea and then go to meet Mrs Palmer.” She stood and pulled the bell.

Jane nodded weakly and Elizabeth turned to leave the room. She met her sister’s maid, Sally, just outside the bedchamber door. “Mrs Bingley wishes for toast and ginger tea,” she directed the maid, pleased with her expeditious appearance.

Sally curtseyed and departed immediately, leaving Elizabeth to make her way downstairs to Mrs Palmer’s office.

Elizabeth had the menus sorted forty-five minutes later, and then retired to the sitting room with a book. So absorbed was she that she startled when the butler knocked upon the door.

“The post has arrived, Miss Bennet,” he announced sombrely, holding out the salver.

“Thank you, Smythe,” she replied, taking the stack of letters. There were only three, two of which were addressed to her brother. The third displayed her name in a bold, masculine hand, and Elizabeth’s brow furrowed in confusion. She flipped the letter over to read the return direction, and her jaw dropped open in shock.

“The Lake House?” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She set aside her brother’s letters and quickly tore the seal on her own. Impatiently, she began to read. With each word, her anger grew. Her cheeks flushed as she scowled.

“How dare he!” she hissed under her breath. “Who does this man think he is to berate me so? I lack wit? What sort of trickery is this—to imply the house is not under lease and that the year is only 1810?” She stood, intent on informing her brother of the mysterious letter at once. She was halfway to the door when she paused. Charles had enough to worry about. Jane’s health was tenuous, and he was already being inundated with letters from his steward and his business managers. There was even a letter from his younger sister, Caroline Bingley, no doubt asking for an advance on her allowance. No, Elizabeth would handle this matter herself.

“Whoever this Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy is, he has met his match.” She strode over to the writing desk and pulled a clean sheet of paper towards her.

Lake House

Ramsgate

July 6, 1812

Dear Mr Darcy,

I am unaccustomed to being so maligned, whether in person or in letter form, and so take this opportunity to address the accusations laid at my door, unfair as they are. You are as unknown to me as I am to you, and I can only rejoice that it is so. I am uncertain how you acquired a letter that was clearly addressed to another, and more baffled still that you opened it.

It will bruise your ego, to be sure, to know that I have never heard of the Darcys of Pemberley, and so it is perfectly clear that your name carries as little weight as my own. You might as well be the Prince of Persia for all I care. If you are a gentleman—and I have my doubts as to such—I can only conclude that your education was sadly lacking as to the proper behaviour of one bearing that title. How dare you question my integrity and claim that I have breached propriety, hoping to gain admittance into your circles!

I know nothing of your sister, either, and can only pity her for having such an officious and proud elder brother! I assure you, sir, that nothing in the world could convince me to marry a man who so blatantly seeks to wound another, casting aspersions and making accusations with nary a thought to the facts.

I will inform you that the railing of Lake House is indeed green, and had I a way to capture it, I would enclose the evidence in this letter immediately. The year is 1812, and I shall drop a nugget of information in your lap to prove it. In the year 1810, Napoleon annexed the Kingdom of Holland as the first part of the French Empire. The official annexation was on the ninth of July. I am certain it will be some time before you receive confirmation of my claim, should you choose to send out inquiries. The Little Corsican’s reign of terror is just beginning, and the war will claim many lives in the years to follow. Lest you accuse me of being a French spy, I will tell you I read of the event myself in the London paper when it arrived at my father’s estate.

Your sister has my pity for having to face such false friends. With all my heart, I sincerely hope that Miss Darcy will find a loyal companion, one who esteems her for herself and not for any other reason. I do wonder whether her ‘friends’ would be so interested in you had they been the recipient of letters such as the one I received this morning.

My reputation is safe from you or from any other gentleman, and I assure you that my brother-in-law is more than capable of protecting me from one such as yourself.

If Farnsworth-Durham deigns to acknowledge your orders, I should be surprised. It is their establishment that brokered the lease of the house to my brother, after all.

I bid you to have the day you deserve, sir, and beg you to importune me no further with your petty accusations.

Yours, etc.,

Elizabeth Bennet

She signed her name with relish and examined her work carefully. It was bewildering how her letter had ended up in the hands of this Fitzwilliam Darcy . The house had stood empty for a long time; perhaps some interloper was hiding in the attic?

She shook her head and chuckled. How very gothic it all sounded! Papa would scold her for being as silly as Lydia.

She sanded the paper and folded the letter carefully. After sealing it, she hesitated, wondering how to address the missive.

He claims he is in residence here. Let him prove it. She scrawled the direction quickly: To Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, Lake House, Ramsgate. With her anger replaced by smugness, Elizabeth left the room and deposited the letter on the salver in the entryway to be posted. Now, only time would reveal the truth.