Susannah sighed and tried to think of something to say that would brighten the day. It distressed her to see Jane in this pitiable state. She was such a gentle soul; the thought that someone could have hurt her to this extent was painful.
The carriage jolted violently as they crested the hill and made their way cautiously down the track on the other side Archie, recently promoted to head coachman at Pemberley, applied the brake, cursing as Tabitha Ford, the young maid sitting next to him, squealed and grasped his arm, although the postillion had dismounted and was holding the horses’ heads to stop them going too fast and slipping on the rough surface.
Susannah wished she knew more about why Jane was so keen to leave home. Not a word had been said about her reasons for the trip and Susannah could only hazard a guess that a young man must be at the centre of the disagreement. She could think of nothing else that would cause such an upset between sisters.
“Jane, my dear, you seem so sad. I do not wish to force a confidence from you, but if there is any way in which I can beof assistance, please tell me. I find your current condition so distressing.”
“Oh I am sorry. I had no intention of making everyone in my life feel as miserable as I do. I just feel…I find it hard to put into words …” She stopped. How could she possibly tell this calm, good-natured woman how unhappy she had become.
“Tell me immediately if I am wrong, but I sense this is something to do with a young gentleman, a certain Mr Digby Frobisher. I shall not pretend ignorance; oh, don’t look so surprised, no one has been talking about you to me, but Bennetta tells all the gossip to Cassandra and I cannot help but overhear.”
Digby! Jane shut her eyes, trying to banish the picture in her mind of his fair hair, good-looking face and a manner and words that had once seemed to promise her all the affection in the world.
Just then the carriage reached the bottom of the hill and came to a halt. Archie dismounted and came round to the window. “Miss Jane, we have about ten more miles to go before we reach Deerwood Park. I need to rest the horses for a while, so if you and Miss Courtney wish to alight for a breath of air, please do so.”
“Thank you, Archie.”
They stepped down with his help and wandered across the road to where a stile led onto a footpath that vanished away into a thick wood. Jane sat on the step, trying to discipline her billowing skirts and gazed at the trees, their branches swaying in the breeze, but she was not seeing the splendour of the day, just a crowded drawing room in Mayfair.
“I first met Digby at Catherine’s wedding to Sir Robert last year. We had a wonderful long and heartfelt conversation about the plays of Shakespeare. We danced and he made sure I had a glass of champagne. Then I met him in London, beforeChristmas. Time has gone by so fast. We had…I believed we had a…a connection.”
She felt hot colour flood up into her cheeks as she remembered. “We spoke of books, we had both seen an exhibition of Ancient Greek artefacts at the British Museum that were of interest. We discussed important things, like the growing problem of unemployed men gathering in London because there is no work to be had in the countryside. Although he seems like a man about town, Digby has a very serious side to his nature and I felt honoured that he had let me see that aspect of his character.”
“I envy you. To find a man whom you can admire and respect is a blessing.”
Jane sighed. “There was no time for us to become closer. I had already promised to visit Dorset to stay with Colonel Fitzwilliam after Christmas, but in the weeks that followed I received letters from Digby. Oh, Susannah, they were such lovely letters! Warm and kind but very proper. No sense of over familiarity, just consideration and intelligence. It led me to believe …”
“That he cared for you?”
“Yes,” came the whispered reply. “And then because we had not celebrated our birthday which falls just before Christmas, Anne wanted to hold a ball at Pemberley. Our cousin Miriam had arrived from Africa, if you remember, and it was to be a grand occasion for her, too, and everything seemed exciting. To my astonishment, Digby drove over from Cheshire that evening with his family. I was not expecting to see him, but oh, I was so pleased. And Anne ruined the evening!”
“Not deliberately, surely?”
“She asked him to dance, she flirted, she encouraged him to stay by her side all evening. As you know, the great artist, Edmund Avery, had painted a portrait of us Darcy children andit was to be unveiled that evening. I so wanted Digby to be by my side when that occurred, but Anne had other plans.”
Susannah looked grave. “But surely, if he was your particular friend …?”
“Oh, she thought it a fine joke. A tease. Afterwards, she said she had no idea I was fond of him in any great way and was sorry for her behaviour. And so I forgave her.”
With a rustle of pale green silk, she stood up abruptly and, careless of her thin leather shoes, walked a little way along the muddy road in the deep shade cast by the trees.
“A day or so later I had a letter full of apologies from Digby, hoping that our friendship had not been spoiled in any way by what he called his ‘attempts to prove himself affable to my twin sister and so win her approval of any future connection between us’. He…he professed to ardently admire and love me!”
“Goodness, that is practically a proposal!”
Jane laughed but it was not a happy sound and she walked further along the road, as if she could not bear to stand still for too long.
“I am glad to hear you say that because I thought so, too. After that we met twice in London—the first time was at a large gathering held for Bennetta’s coming out in July. I was so happy. We danced, we sat on the terrace, oh Susannah, I could not possibly have imagined his feelings for me. I am not the sort of girl who thinks every man she meets will fall in love with her.
“Then just two days later, Digby came to call at Matlock House, to thank my parents for the pleasant evening and we walked together in the garden—although I admit I sensed a certain restraint in his manner towards me. However, I imagined that was because his family had of late suffered from a disaster. Everyone was talking about it at every social occasion.”
“The Frobishers live in Cheshire, I believe. Yes, there were rumours about them. Did not Mr Frobisher Snr lose a vast fortune out in the West Indies?”
Jane nodded. “Indeed, in Antigua, but Digby said very little about it although it was clear he was concerned for his father. However, rightly or wrongly, I believed that they were still a wealthy family and would easily weather the financial storm.”
“A gentleman’s lack of a very great fortune would not have mattered to you if you truly loved him. He was not likely to be destitute and ask you to live in a hovel!”
The breeze swirled along the hedgerow, trembling the late blossoms of honeysuckle that trailed amongst the briars, sending their perfume spinning through the warm air.
