Page 25 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

She spun towards Lady Catherine. “But madam, you…you warned me if I ever repeated this…”

Lady Catherine fluttered her hand. “Never mind what I said before. Answer my nephew’s questions, for he insists upon knowing what happened.”

The housekeeper shifted back towards me. “God help me, everything I told Lady Catherine is true.”

I pointed to a nearby chair. “Please, sit here.”

She perched on the edge of the seat in a stiff position.

“How old were you in 1784?”

“Twelve, sir.”

“That is exceedingly young to be working with a midwife.”

“Yes, but my mother compelled me to assist her once I reached my tenth birthday. She’d expected me to follow in her footsteps, but I’d no intention of doing so.” Her mouth twisted downwards. “I canna tolerate the sight of blood.”

“Am I the…firstborn?” I swallowed. With one word, this woman could precipitate the loss of my estate.

“Oh yes, sir, without doubt. You were the first and larger of the two babes.”

Thank goodness. I adjusted my weight as a sensation of lightness traversed my veins. With that ponderous concern settled, I focused upon the most implausible piece of her account. “How could my mother have given birth to twins without being aware of the second child?”

“Lady Anne had been in labour for more than four-and-twenty hours before she gave birth to you. She was elated to learn shehad a healthy son. But within a few minutes, she succumbed to exhaustion and became insensible. Soon thereafter, the second child came.”

“But others must have been present.”

“No, sir. After your birth, the surgeon instructed most of the maids to go and rest. He took you and the remaining maid to the next room while he inspected and bathed you. Then your brother was born, and my mother grew agitated. I recall the ferocious way she gripped my wrist and pointed at the baby’s eyes—one black, the other bright blue. I’d never seen her so frightened before. She crossed herself and whispered, ‘Satan’s child’ over and over again.”

Mrs. Pike wrapped her arms around her middle. “Mama tucked the infant in a blanket and thrust him into my arms. Then she leaned close to my ear, as though she feared the babe would overhear her. She called the infant a demon. She said if we allowed him to live, he would kill you in order to become the heir and eventually slay his parents as well. She ordered me to leave the house through the servants’ passages, drown the babe in the river, and hide his body in the woods.”

My breath rushed out. “Your mother expected you, a mere child, to murder a newborn baby?”

“Yes. She believed I should be ridding the world of an evil being.”

For pity’s sake.“Your mother based this ridiculous notion upon him having two different coloured eyes?”

“Yes, and because he was a twin. Mama believed twin births were bad omens.” Rows of folds formed upon her forehead. “You see, she held many strange ideas and superstitions. In the past six months before your birth, though, she had grown more unbalanced.”

“Why did you not take the child to the surgeon, to my father, or to one of the maids or other servants?”

“I wish I had done so. But at the time, I did not know whom to trust—I could not be certain they would not agree with my mother. Instead, I took the babe to our neighbours in Lambton, the Woods, a cobbler and his wife who had never been blessed with children. I knew them well and trusted in their kind and generous natures. I recounted my mother’s extreme response to the child but did not reveal his true identity. I told them the baby’s mother had been an unmarried maid passing through the area who could not keep him. The Woods were eager and joyful to take him and raise him as their son.”

“Just a moment now.” Lord Matlock raised his hand. “All babies cry when they are born, do they not? Why did the surgeon not hear the second babe from the next room?”

“Not all infants cry at birth. As I recall, he did not make a sound until I carried him from the house. At that time of the morning, most of the household remained abed. Even if someone had heard him, they may have dismissed the noise as a wailing cat.”

I maintained a study of the housekeeper throughout her narrative; if she had manufactured this incredible tale, she exhibited superlative acting skills. “I am certain there is no cobbler in Lambton named Wood.”

Mrs. Pike returned her sight to me. “The Woods had planned a move to Bath in the following month. They chose to depart sooner so they could present the child in their new neighbourhood as their natural son. They hired a wet-nurse in Lambton and left the next day. I suspect they feared the baby’s mother might change her mind and look for him.”

Bath? Could my brother be so close? My fingers splayed over my cravat. “Do the Woods still reside in Bath?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I have never been to Bath and never heard from them after they moved.”

I met her tearful brown eyes. “Do you swear everything you have said is accurate?”

“Yes, sir. ’Tis God’s honest truth.” The housekeeper lifted a handkerchief to her face. “I’m so very sorry. I understand what I did was wrong, but at the time, I didn’t know any better. Please don’t report me to the magistrate.”

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