Page 51 of Such Low Connections

“Colonel Fitzwilliam is a fine man, and we do miss his calls and letters, don’t we, Georgiana?”

“He has such a wonderful singing voice too, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana recalled. “You don’t like to sing, and there is never anyone now to sing the man’s part when I play our favourite songs. Cousin Ludlow does not even like music. Did you know that?”

“Cousin Richard is more amiable than Cousin Ludlow, I know,” Darcy admitted, understanding that indifference to music was likely a terrible character flaw in Georgiana’s eyes. “But Ludlow is doing his best to step into his brother’s shoes as your guardian. He was here this morning, in fact, and would have come to see you if he had not spoken to me first.”

Georgiana looked surprised and not entirely pleased at this news.

“Cousin Ludlow was here again?” she asked him unguardedly, her words and tone unintentionally implying both that she neither approved of nor welcomed his presence.

“I found him borrowing some old maps from the library when I arrived this morning. There’s no harm in that, Georgiana.”

“No, I know,” she acknowledged, bowing her head in reaction to the faint reprimand in Darcy’s voice. “I would not grudge him access to the library. It is only, well, I don’t like the way Cousin Ludlow just walks into Pemberley and helps himself to books or maps as he does. Colonel Fitzwilliam would never do that. Cousin Richard always comes to see me first.”

“I shall make further enquiries in London for news of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s regiment when I return,” Darcy promised, guessing that Georgiana’s present mood stemmed as much from anxiety over Richard as any real displeasure with Ludlow.

“Georgiana and I planned a carriage ride around the lake this afternoon, if you would care to join us, Mr Darcy,” ventured Mrs Annesley, tactfully changing the subject.

Darcy hesitated, wanting time to deal with all his correspondence, but saw the hopefulness in Georgiana’s eyes and nodded his head.

“If you would be good enough to allow me an hour after luncheon for my letters, I will be at your service,” he told his two companions.

∞∞∞

It was not until the following morning after breakfast that he had the chance to begin his search of Darcy family records. Replying to Lady Catherine’s long, strident and demanding letter had taken up far too long after supper the previous night. After that, he was too riled by his aunt and tired from the road to begin anything.

Fitzwilliam, I must insist that you put every energy into resolving this awful matter, which affects not only you, but our entire family…

…How well I remember the happy day of your parents’ marriage! Never could I then have guessed the misfortune that would befall their only son…

What on earth did she imagine Darcy had been doing while these rumours spread? Hiding behind the sofa? Carousing in theton? He had already made every effort he could in London and was now planning to do the same in Derbyshire, without Lady Catherine’s interference.

You must be conscious too of how these base rumours are likely to affect your future. If only you had taken my advice on an early marriage when you first came of age, but young people will never be told. Think on how few young ladies of good birth and fortune would consider your hand now.

It grieves me to think of you without comfort or helpmeet, but this state has been of your own doing…

Yes, he knew all this too, Darcy thought irritably, all the more displeased with the rebuke for recognising it had some merit. He had even tried to rectify his solitary state by proposing to Elizabeth Bennet, not that he imagined that news would be likely to please his aunt. It would have pleased her even less, however, if that young lady had accepted him.

Such an acceptance would have pleased Darcy, though, and he could not help thinking wistfully of Elizabeth Bennet’s fine hazel eyes, quick-moving figure and merry wit. He could almost imagine her here with him now, telling him, with a touch of impatience, that he must be organised and focused in his searches.

He allowed this imaginary figure to linger in his head, acknowledging to himself that it was possible he would never meet the real Elizabeth Bennet again. The imaginary woman tapped her foot, impatient with any touch of self-pity, and insistent that he focus his mind on what he hoped to find.

What exactly did Darcy hope to find? Well, a good start would be his parents’ marriage certificate…

After perusing all the family papers he could find in the study’s drawers, safes and cabinets, however, Darcy drew a blank. Searches of the library’s older family records proved similarly fruitless, as did sifting through the boxes of papers and letters filed away from his father’s private sitting room after his death.

Hours of searching became days. Not only could Darcy find no copy of the certificate, but no record at all of the wedding. An order of service from the wedding day, his mother’s marriage contract, or a copy of a marriage license would all have bolstered his spirits, but none were forthcoming.

He certainly remembered both parents speaking fondly of their wedding day at St. Martin’s church, near Pemberley village. It was odd to find nothing at all.

Darcy increasingly wondered whether his father had deliberately filed these papers away somewhere out of sight and mind after his wife’s death, finding such things unwelcome reminders of grief. Old Mr Darcy might even have destroyed them, although that seemed out of character for so measured and moderate a character.

Well, whatever the explanation, all the most obvious places at Pemberley had been searched, as far as Darcy could without rousing the suspicions of Georgiana or the household staff. On the third day, Darcy donned coat and hat and went down to the stables to have his horse saddled.

Private records presently eluding him, there were still more public records of marriages in the district. He would consult those instead.

∞∞∞

“Stolen?” echoed Darcy in bafflement as the young vicar at St. Martin’s church finished his apologetic story. “Who on earth would steal an old wedding registry book?”