Page 22 of Pemberley's Imposter
“No.”
“Why Elysande, then?”
“The name is from a legend. I do not know whether it is true. Back in medieval times, Longbourn was called Riverlong. It was a farm, much as it is today. The myth says Elysande, one of the daughters of the churl who owned the estate, was traded by her brother to a Viking warrior. She married and left England to fight alongside her husband. She fought at the battle of Hafrsfjord, on Harald Fairhair’s side. They won, and she became the lady of Nidaros, an earldom gifted by the king for their heroic efforts in the war that won him sovereignty of Norway. According to the legend, Elysande was an accomplished archer.”
“Why would her brother trade her? Were they poor?”
“I do not think so. The ruins of the house still exist, about two hundred yards behind Longbourn, and it was not a small house.
“The brother had been captured by the Vikings. I suppose you are aware that the educated boys were usually castrated and sold to the Far East as eunuchs? To escape that fate, Gaillard, the brother, offered the warrior his prettiest sister, the fair Cecily, but Ulvhedin preferred Elysande for her beautiful long red hair. The legend asserts she fell in love with her Viking warrior and had many children. Their estate, Nidaros, prospered, and their eldest daughter was fostered by Alfred the Great for years. They were even related to the Normandy king Rollo, whose descendants rule England today. Elysande was a strong lady, turning her misfortune into victory. My Elysande will need some of that strength.”
“Elysande will have everything she needs and more,” he stated flatly, making Elizabeth’s eyes flare at his ineloquent statement of the truth.
“You have come to take her from me, then?” Elizabeth picked up her daughter from the chair and held her close to her chest, burying her face in the babe’s soft curls.
“No,” he hastened to amend. In her ears it must sound like a threat, and that was not his intention. “Not necessarily. You are welcome to join her.”
It was insanity to suggest that Elizabeth accompany her daughter. Yet, he could not rip a child from her mother’s arms. Not when the mother was alive and well. Besides, he was in no more danger from her at close proximity than he was from a distance.
“Why?”
“I shall not separate a daughter from her mother if it is not absolutely necessary.”
He reckoned the child was more important to Elizabeth than anything else, and he stooped to bargaining with her maternal sensibilities. Judging by the disdainful look she gave him, any love she had once harboured for him had been extinguished that night in December.She has never held me in any regard, he reminded himself. Her performance in the library contradicted the existence of any tender sentiments.
“She is my heir. Most likely the only one I shall ever have,” he hastened to explain.
“Pemberley does not have an entail?” she asked, clearly bewildered.
“No.”
“Georgiana could inherit…” Elizabeth suggested.
She could not know to whom his sister was engaged. Darcy contemplated how to tell her, but he had so far jumbled every attempt at conversation. He had thought it wise not to rehearsesomething previously written as he had done with his disastrous proposal at Hunsford. Of course, when he had first made a beginning, he had added much nonsense. His second proposal had come from the heart on the spur of the moment. It had served him much better at the time than his rehearsed speech, which had of course led him to the conundrum he was currently facing. He had no idea what to say. He chuckled mirthlessly.
“I do not relish leaving Pemberley to Georgiana because she is engaged to be married to Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth gasped, and her hand flew to her chest.
“Owie, Mama?” his precious daughter asked and tried to blow on Elizabeth’s hand.
“No, petal. Mama is well.”
Darcy noticed Elizabeth’s hands. They were not the soft and delicate ones that had caressed him so tenderly. Had it only been two and a half years? It felt like a lifetime. Her hands had become worn and callused, and the skin was brown from working the fields.
Elizabeth noticed where his gaze was resting and hid her hands in her daughter’s gown. Darcy wanted to cry. He forced his eyes away and bent his head.
“I have pondered what could have been his motive. I had not thought it to be such a grand scheme. What does Georgiana believe happened? Did you leave her uninformed or did you blame the disaster solely on me?” Elizabeth accused him.
“No, she knows the whole sordid tale. She does not believe the colonel has done anything wrong.”
“She believes I instigated the incident in the library?” Elizabeth asked with an incredulous expression on her face. “But of course she believes her heroic cousin and infallible brother.Never mind my stupid question, will Miss Darcy and the colonel be staying with you?”
“Occasionally. Where they are to live permanently has not yet been decided. Will you accompany your daughter to Pemberley or not?”
“What choice do I have?” she asked with bitterness lacing her voice.
“There is always a choice, Mrs Darcy. You could stay here and live off your seventy pounds a year. Youcouldgo to the bank and withdraw your pin money and live much more comfortably on your own, or you could follow Elysande to Pemberley.”
