“But you have enabled it to be done,” she insisted.
“Several people have enabled it to be done,” he replied. “Mr. Gardiner, my sister-in-law’s uncle, has done much of the work. I have merely helped with the funds and encouraged others to contribute.”
Sensing his reluctance to continue this conversation, she turned the conversation to another topic. When they first met, she had been prejudiced against him because of his wealth and position. Her first marriage was to a man similar to George in both position and appearance, and she had been sure he was the same sort of man. However, the more she saw of him, the more she began to doubt it.
Her widow’s weeds were intended to put off any potential suitors. She still possessed an adequate fortune from her dowry and the settlement her father insisted upon. Her husband’s death in a duel has stirred a scandal preventing her from returning home but left her in possession of the townhouse she shared with her husband. She sold it, using the funds to purchase a smaller home in a less pretentious area of London. She rarely participated in society now, spending her time and funds helping those in need. Along with the orphanage, she did much to support women, especially those escaping from marriages similar to hers.
Another reason she eschewed the idea of remarriage because she believed she could never mother a child. During her marriage, she miscarried twice—both times following some abuse from her husband, who had been angry over some perceived slight. The last time, she bled heavily, and the midwife informed her it was unlikely she would ever be able to have a child again. When her husband died a few months later, she was pleased since it meant she would never again have to willingly submit to a man.
The feelings she had toward George Darcy were unsettling. She knew he was highly sought after in thetonand, at 35, was not an old man, but he appeared no more interested in marriage than she did. Lady Anne shared the story of his first marriage with Mrs. Hannah one afternoon, although she did not initially realise why the lady did so. It appeared Lady Anne recognised the interest both shared.
Several weeks later, Mrs. Hannah told Lady Anne about her marriage. For the first time in years, she shared with another her real name. “Lady Anne, I want you to know who I truly am as you have always been so kind and accepted me. My full name is Hannah Thompson, and I was married to Lord David Thompson, a baron. He was killed in a duel over a courtesan several years ago, which caused a terrible scandal. My parents refused to let me return home, so I sold the townhouse in Mayfair and moved into a modest townhouse further away from the fashionable area. I have spoken to few members of thetonsince, and I have hidden my true identity from most people I meet.”
Lady Anne thought for a moment. “I believe I vaguely recall Lord Thompson and do not recall any scandal related to his name. Most scandals die out before too much time passes, and it is possible few would remember the name now,” she replied. “Now that you are comfortable with my family, you would come to dinner at Darcy House. We would limit the guest list to just a few family members if it would make you more comfortable. My children and the Gardiners, perhaps?”
Mrs. Hannah agreed and asked Lady Anne to inform the rest of the family of her full name. She preferred to remain known as Mrs. Hannah as she had come to hate her surname since hermarriage, which was another reason she preferred to go by her Christian name.
Several nights later, Mrs. Hannah arrived at the event. In stark contrast to her attire at the orphanage, she was now dressed in a lavender evening gown made from exquisite silk. Her ensemble was equally as elegant as the other guests at the party. She was introduced to several gentlemen whom she had not previously met. Mary attended the gathering with her intended, a gentleman from Lancashire she met while visiting Charlotte. Mr. Pattinson, a young man, was the heir to an estate near the Livesays’. His parents were still living and were in town for the season as they prepared for the wedding. They greatly liked Mary and held her in high regard, especially when they learned of her charitable work.
Georgiana and Lydia, both 17, were making their debut in society, marking their first season. Kitty, at 19, was participating in her second. They had attracted many suitors, but none had yet captured their hearts. Too many gentlemen pursued them for their perceived wealth and connections, not for themselves. They were all determined to make a love match, and George, Fitzwilliam, and Richard all kept careful watch on their sisters and cousins. Richard, now a colonel, recently found his heiress to marry. She was the daughter of his former general, and the two admired each other for some time, although neither knew of the other’s interest. Their courtship had been interesting, but they married the previous autumn and began their life together at Foxwood Hall.
All these family members were present at the dinner, and Mrs. Hannah was warmly embraced into the family gathering. George frequently remained near her, although their conversations were limited, which amused Lady Anne. She noticed her son’s interestin their guest but sensed his hesitance to approach her. In a subtle conversation, Lady Anne hinted at Mrs. Hannah’s past marriage, and the memory of her husband’s name and the scandal surrounding his death added to George’s reservations, making him grapple with his growing attraction to her.
After that evening, Mrs. Hannah continued participating in the Darcy family’s social events. She was still discreet in her interactions with society, yet she attended several more dinners with the family and accompanied them on outings to museums, Kensington Gardens, and a night at the theatre. On these occasions, she often stayed close to Lady Anne and was rarely seen in the company of George, as they both wished to avoid attracting the attention of theton. However, as his initial hesitation waned, he found himself drawn to her more frequently, and their paths continued to cross at the orphanage. She also visited Lady Anne at Darcy House several times and had developed a relationship with his precocious three-year-old daughter Grace.
When summer arrived, the families left London again for their respective estates. Elizabeth felt the quickening of the child she suspected was on the way in early June. On the other hand, George experienced a growing sense ofennuiupon arriving at Pemberley, feeling as though something—or someone—was conspicuously absent from his life.
Not one to rush toLondon to attend to his duties in Parliament, this autumn found George leaving Pemberley muchsooner than usual. He dreaded the thought of months without his daughter, who, as she grew, became far more interesting to her father, but he knew his mother would bring her and the other girls to town around Christmas after Elizabeth’s confinement. She expected this new child in November, and Lady Anne was reluctant to leave Derbyshire until after the birth.
Without his women with him, George had fewer reasons to visit the orphanage. Lady Anne gave him a note, allowing him to call on the lady at her home. Upon arriving, he greeted her and, his nerves getting the best of him, quickly expressed his desire: “Mrs. Hannah, would you consider, well, I mean, I would like to pay my respects to you, truly, to court you, to see if we are compatible. If… if you would be amenable to it.” His nervousness caused him to blurt out his request with less grace than he intended.
His request took her aback. “You… what?” Her face paled as she continued, “No, I could never marry again. Courting would serve little purpose, surely you understand,” her voice quivering with a hint of desperation.
“I thought, well, I hoped perhaps I might be able to persuade you to think differently of marriage. We have known each other for several years, and you must know I am nothing like your former husband,” George implored.
“No, no, there are no circumstances where I can envision submitting to a man’s authority again. It does not matter what kind of man he is; I cannot go through that again,” she responded, her voice pleading. “Please, sir, try to understand.”
George nodded, but, having already made his request, he had little more to say. Stiffly, he took his leave and left the house. Hewas glad he rode his horse there as he turned his mount toward the outskirts of town to a field he often used when he needed a gallop.
At her house, Mrs. Hannah sat in shock for several minutes. A servant brought the tea she requested when George arrived, but he had left too quickly for it to arrive.
Sighing, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat down to read the letter from Lady Anne. It did not take long before she sat up straighter, as she was shocked by what the lady had written.
My dear, I understand your fear of marriage, considering your past with your late husband and his treatment of you. Nonetheless, I implore you not to allow his memory to perpetually haunt you and to reject a man who would cherish and adore you.
This line was the only hint at her son’s intentions, and she wondered whether he had discussed it with his mother or if she had merely deduced it. She reflected on her friend’s words and questioned whether she had been too hasty in her outright rejection.
Over the next several weeks, Mrs. Hannah noticed George rarely visited the orphanage and rarely when she was there. Believing he was avoiding her, she wondered what she could do to create another chance to speak to him. Realising she had not yet responded to Lady Anne’s letter, she wondered what she might write to her to encourage George to call again.
She sat down immediately to write to Lady Anne and poured out her heart to the lady, finding she could not be as subtle as sheoriginally intended. The letter was a mess, and she expressed so many thoughts she had never before shared with another, but before she could change her mind, she sanded and sealed the letter and gave it to a servant to post.
A monthafter sending her letter, near the end of December, Mrs. Hannah ran into Lady Anne at the orphanage. “How are you, my dear,” she asked her friend. “I was afraid when I did not hear from you following my letter, you were determined to completely cut the connection with my family. I do hope George did not upset you too terribly.”
“You … you never received my letter in reply?” Mrs. Hannah stammered.
“No, dear, did you send one?” Lady Anne asked in concern.
“I did, but it was several weeks after it was delivered,” she admitted. “It … it took a few weeks before I was ready to write, but I do not know why you did not receive it.”
