Virtue and Vanity: Continuing Story of Desire and Duty Read online

  “I am not sure my simple story would do all that, but it will give me an admirable goal.”

  Georgiana added, “With your sweet spirit and positive outlook on life, I do not think your novel could be anything less than what Sir Thomas has described.”

  Sarah blushed and answered softly, “Thank you for the compliment. I will certainly let you read my writing before I send it off for a publisher to look at. . . I do not want to include anything that would reflect on you in an unfavorable light. . . but, I find so many things about high society, such as those at the ball, amusing and contradictory that I would like to include a few of those things. So many people think life would be perfect if they were able to move in a higher social circle. . . I would like to point out some of the good and bad things about it.”

  Thomas laughed, “Indeed. I am glad you see beyond the polished facade these people present. Just be careful to not make your characters too close to any real person. . . of course, few arrogant, pompous fools would recognize a description of themselves.”

  An envelope dropped to the floor. Georgiana picked it up and said, “I was so excited to hear your good news, Sarah, that I forgot about my letter.” The family chatted amiably while Georgiana perused her correspondence. When she completed reading, she looked up and said, “This is from my dear sister-in-law at Pemberley, Elizabeth Darcy. It appears her children will be here in a few days for a visit. Andrew and John will be participating in a fencing tournament and Maria insisted on coming along to visit us.”

  Sarah was delighted to hear that her cousin Maria, who was her own age, was coming to visit. Maria had grown into a graceful, lovely young woman who was an easy conversationalist; though, she seemed to talk incessantly about the opposite sex. Maria would help divert Sarah’s attention from that of the Darcy brothers, with whom Sarah sometimes felt uneasy. Andrew Darcy, age two and twenty, was the older of the two fraternal twins. Andrew had dark hair and spoke sparingly. He was agreeably handsome, but not as striking as his twin, John Darcy. John’s dark blond hair, muscular build and outgoing manner made a favorable impression on everyone. John seemed to have inherited all the liveliness of his mother, while Andrew reflected the quiet moodiness of his father.

  That night in her own bedroom, Sarah once again explored her mixed feelings towards Andrew and John.

  John tended not to pay much attention to her since she was quiet and studious. She enjoyed the animated atmosphere he brought, but felt as an onlooker when he entered the room. John was the type of man she wished a brother, if one had been born, would have been like.

  Andrew, on the other hand, always evoked mixed feelings in her. At one time, she had very strong affection for him. Her mind returned to that fateful event eight years earlier.

  Chapter Three

  “What are you looking for?” the twelve year old Sarah Bingley ran up to sit by the fourteen year old Andrew Darcy. He was sitting on the bank of the Derwent river, not too far from the bridge to Pemberley. The spring day was bright, with birds singing nearby.

  Andrew turned the botanical atlas towards her and pointed to a purple-flowered plant. “I am still looking for a foxglove for my collection. Some doctors use it as medicine.”

  “May I help you look for it?” Sarah asked.

  “Why. . . yes.” He studied her for a moment before adding, “If you sincerely wish to help, I would enjoy the company. The other children think it silly to be collecting plants,” Andrew looked at her seriously, “but to me they are botanical specimens.”

  She had heard the other children belittling Andrew on several occasions, but to her it was fascinating that he was so interested in, and knew so much about, beautiful plants. She smiled, “I think I may have seen that flower on the other side of the bridge.” Sarah said as she stood and raced away to see if her memory was correct. Moments later, Sarah returned triumphantly with the aforesaid flower.

  Andrew stood and said, “A foxglove! I really appreciate your help. You are not like the other girls.”

  Sarah beamed. At that moment, Andrew began to be special in her eyes.

  After studying the atlas together to verify the new discovery, Andrew said, “Would you like to see the rest of my collection of flora and fauna?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  They turned and walked across the stone arched bridge back to Pemberley. Her fourteen year old sister, Laura, was standing on the bridge. She turned to watch them--Andrew carrying his atlas and Sarah holding the flower like a prized possession.

  Laura said, “Do not tell me you are helping Andrew with his beastly collections. That is not very ladylike, Sarah.”

  Sarah tried not to cringe from her older sister’s comment. She considered Laura much more beautiful than herself and difficult to disagree with.

  Andrew said to Sarah, as they passed Laura on the bridge, “Don’t pay attention to your sister. She does not understand our secret.” Sarah was not sure what their secret was, but it made for a great diversion to act as though she and Andrew shared a mysterious confidence.

  As they climbed the grand semicircular staircase inside Pemberley, they could hear the complaining voice of a maid, “Mrs. Reynolds, must I clean Master Andrew’s museum? He has bugs and plants and only God knows what. I never know what to throw out or to clean.”

  “Just do your best. . . I understand his room will never be perfect,” replied Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper.

  Andrew smiled widely as he and Sarah trooped by the two women and entered Andrew’s “museum”. The ten foot by twelve foot room was lined on one side with shelves filled with all sorts of bottles containing biological specimens. Across from the shelves, several glass-encased collections of butterflies and flowers hung on the wall.

  Sarah stood looking at the flowers on the wall as Andrew put the foxglove away. “Andrew, the flowers are quite pretty.”

  “The two large collections on top were done by my grandfather, Mr. Darcy. Unfortunately, he died many years before I was born. The smaller collection closest to us is my first display.”

  Sarah spent a pleasant afternoon while Andrew showed her the museum. She helped identify some of the flowers on the wall as they went through the pages of the atlas. As they were called to supper, she realized this room was a special place for Andrew. She felt she understood something about him that no one else did.

  The next day, Laura, Sarah and the Darcy twins were near the bridge when Laura proposed, “We need to have a make believe wedding.”

  John was on the verge of dashing away when Laura caught his arm and said, “John, you will play the minister.” Laura marched him to the front pillar of the bridge. She then pulled a puzzled Andrew next to her and said, “Now, John, say the words to. . . .”

  Laura was interrupted as the two boys bolted away, leaving Laura and Sarah standing alone, looking after them. Laura spoke her thoughts out loud. “Those boys seem skittish about being married. I wonder what their problem is?”

  Sarah, sensing an here-to-fore unique feeling she would later come to understand as jealousy, said, “Why do you want to scare Andrew by practicing a marriage ceremony with him?”

  “Look, little sister, whether Andrew wants me or not, the older sister must marry the older brother. Having a pretend wedding might help get his thoughts flowing in the right direction.”

  Stammering, Sarah asked, “What if Andrew does not love you?”

  “Boys are so foolish, they do not know what is destined for them,” Laura sighed and continued, “but, it is only a matter of time before he succumbs to my beauty and charm.”

  Sarah found it difficult to controvert her older sister and turned away from Laura in disgust. Laura ran to her side and said, “Between us, Andrew is mine. I want the grand status of the Darcys.”

  Sarah burst into tears and ran away.

  The following day, the Darcy and Bingley children walked stealthily into the parlor of Pemberley, where their parents were sitting engaged in lively conversation. Andrew, the elected
spokesman, approached Mr. Darcy and asked, “Father, may we go to the fair at Buxton?”

  “Who is going to take you?”

  “Good old Reynolds has offered to take us in the carraige.”

  Mr. Darcy looked at the well-dressed, grandfatherly servant who, with his wife Mrs. Reynolds, had served at Pemberley since before his own birth. He recalled some of the pleasant diversions the faithful servant had provided for him as a child and the watchful, protective eye he always felt when in Mr. Reynold’s presence. He knew his children would be well-cared for and kept from harm during the excursion. So, he answered, “If I refuse permission, I shall never hear the end of it from your lively mother. However, I cannot speak for the Bingleys.”

  The entire room turned to look at Charles and Jane Bingley. Charles gave a look of deference to his wife. Jane said, “I see no problem in Laura going, but Sarah must not go.”

  The extreme delicacy of Sarah’s constitution had hitherto deferred Mrs. Bingley from having her inoculated against smallpox. Sarah had been scrupulously kept from all miscellaneous exposure in the neighborhood. Now, as her child’s weakness was promising to change into health and strength, Mrs. Bingley planned for the inoculation immediately after the heat of the present autumn subsided.

  Sarah began to cry very quietly and ran forward to place her head in her mother’s lap.

  Andrew approached and said, with gentle pleading, “Aunt Jane, it will be a sore disappointment for Sarah if she cannot come with us. Could she join us if she stays in the carriage?”

  Looking up hopefully, Sarah softly added, “Oh, please mother. Even from the carriage I may see the sights and hear the delightful sounds. It will be a wonderful diversion for me.”

  For a few moments, the beautiful face of Jane Bingley showed a struggle, then her amiable spirit quickly decided in favor of her younger child, a girl who possessed a spirit so like her own. “How can I say no to you, my love,” Mrs. Bingley said as Sarah jumped up and hugged her tightly.

  Elizabeth looked at Mr. Reynolds, as he kept his respectful silence behind the children. “Mr. Reynolds, you may take all the children, but Sarah is to stay in the carriage at all times.”

  “I understand, ma’am.”

  The carriage was called for and took off with its passengers, who were delighting in the bright summer morning. As the fair was approached, they passed an occasional colorful booth.

  During the ride, John exclaimed, “I shall want to see the jugglers most of all. How about you, Andrew?”

  “I have heard they might have a lion or tiger. I have never seen a real lion before.”

  “Boys, boys, boys,” cried Laura in a condescending tone, “I shall want to see the beautiful dresses of the actresses on stage.”

  Sarah remained quiet, with a resigned but hopeful look on her face. When the booths became more numerous, Laura cried, “Oh, please, let us stop here!”

  Mr. Reynolds told the driver to stop. The Darcy children and Laura clambered out the door and raced off, leaving Sarah and Mr. Reynolds watching them from the door of the coach.

  Sarah said meekly, “I cannot see where the others went.” She then sat back with a despondent look.

  Mr. Reynolds observed her with compassion and then moved over to the carriage door and said, “Very little activity is occurring here.” He poked his head out the door and ordered, “Driver, move ahead to any booth selling toys. Keep a sharp look out for anyone with smallpox.”

  In short order, the carriage stopped in front of a booth filled with trinkets and toys.

  Mr. Reynolds alighted and went over to the booth. He asked Sarah to point out any toys she wanted. She was now ecstatic, although she had difficulty getting Mr. Reynolds to understand the descriptions of the toys she was interested in.

  Andrew watched where the carriage had stopped and then walked to the booth before proceeding to the carriage. “Why don’t you get out and walk over to the booth?” Andrew asked.

  “Mama told me to stay inside the carriage.”

  “I do not see anyone with smallpox around here and surely your mother would not object to a few steps over to a booth.” Andrew turned to Mr. Reynolds and raised his voice, “Mr. Reynolds, may Sarah come visit the booth?”

  After mumbling something about Mrs. Bingley, Mr. Reynolds said, “I cannot say no to such a sweet creature. . . Sarah, come over her and choose as many toys as you can carry.”

  Andrew opened the carriage door with aplomb and bowed as Sarah stepped out of the vehicle. He then followed her over to the booth.

  Mr. Reynolds encouraged her to fill the skirt of her white frock. Andrew held the toys up for her to see before handing them back or placing them in her skirt.

  Laura, Maria and John soon appeared and enjoyed watching Sarah collect her trinkets. Mr. Reynolds promised the children, “You shall all have your chance to buy some toys, but Miss Sarah will select hers first so she will have something to entertain herself with while you are all venturing around the fair.”

  Unnoticed by the group, a little boy approached. Maria turned and said innocently, “Little boy, what’s the matter with your face?”

  Andrew turned and shouted, “Smallpox!”

  Sarah dropped her apron-skit with all its toys and fell to her knees.

  “Oh, my God!” exclaimed Mr. Reynolds, while Laura and John started shooing the little boy, “Go away! Go away!”

  Andrew grasped Sarah’s upper arms and helped her up. He then escorted the trembling girl back to the carriage.

  Laura and Maria climbed in to sit by the crying Sarah. Through her tears, Sarah said, “Oh, Laura, I have disobeyed Mama! I did not mean it in the least. I forgot all of her commands. I do not care if I get smallpox, but I do not wish mother to grieve.”

  Overcome by emotion, Mr. Reynolds sat down next to the booth and said, “Lord help us! What poor, sinful creatures we are.”

  Andrew returned to Mr. Reynolds and pulled the reluctant servant back to the carriage. The somber group returned to Pemberley. As the carriage arrived, the Darcys and Bingleys stood near the tall front entrance doors in front of the grand manor house.

  At first, no one spoke or stirred in the carriage. After a delay of a few moments, Andrew emerged with Mr. Reynolds following behind. The young man and elderly servant drew to silent attention before the expectant and now alarmed parents. “What is the matter, Andrew?” asked Mr. Darcy. “Why have you returned home so soon?”

  “It is all my fault, sir,” replied Andrew, looking down at his feet.

  “What is your fault?”

  “I encouraged Sarah to step down from the carriage. . . .”

  Here, Mr. Reynolds interrupted. “It is my mistaken judgement, since I gave permission.”

  “What the devil are you both talking about?” As Mr. Darcy said this, Mrs. Jane Bingley began running to the carriage.

  She opened the door and Sarah began sobbing, “Oh, Mama, there was a boy with smallpox there.”

  Mrs. Bingley gathered Sarah up in her arms and supported her as they moved into the hall.

  Mrs. Darcy said to the group, “This is no time to worry about blame. We need to see about warding off the infection.” Elizabeth’s last statement was uttered as she turned to follow her sister, Mrs. Bingley into the hall.

  The contrition of the trembling Andrew and the sorrow of Mr. Reynolds could not but help obtain the pardon they requested from the Darcys and Bingleys. However, it was months before Mr. Reynolds could walk at ease around Mrs. Reynolds. Her umbrage of “How could you be so stupid?” was heard many times.

  Every precaution possible for warding off infection was taken in regards to Sarah. Her clothes were burned. She was given a thorough bath and put to bed.

  After four days, just as the household was beginning to believe she must have escaped the disease, Sarah began running a high fever. The surgeon was called for and, after examining his patient, he came to the assembled group and said to Mrs. Bingley, “Your child clearly has symptoms of smallpox.�
��

  “Will she live?” Mrs. Bingley asked with bated breath.

  “I am sorry to relate this, but she has several signs indicating a severe prognosis. You must prepare yourselves.” After closing his black bag, the surgeon gave a few more instructions and left the shocked and silent group.

  Mrs. Bingley ran up the semicircular stairs of Pemberley as Mr. Bingley said to the group, “We want to spend as much time as possible with our angel.” Then Mr. Bingley followed the footsteps of his wife.

  Andrew ran down the hall to the chapel of Pemberley, where he entered the quiet, empty chamber and threw himself onto the kneeling pad and began to earnestly pray. “Oh, God. I have not always been the boy I should be. Forgive me my sins. It will be my fault if my dear cousin dies. Please be merciful and spare her life. You see, she is special to me. Indeed, sometimes I feel she is the only person who understands me.”

  After many minutes of desperate prayer, Andrew heard the chapel door open and looked up to see his father enter and approach, sitting close to where his elder son knelt. While Andrew expected his father to upbraid him, Mr. Darcy remained silent. Finally, after several minutes, Andrew said, “I am praying for Sarah to get well. . . you see, if she dies, it is all my fault. . .Do you think God will grant my prayer?”

  Mr. Darcy bid his son to rise off his knees and come sit next to him. As the boy lowered himself to the pew, Mr. Darcy placed his arm over Andrew’s shoulders and said, “The Almighty has surely heard your prayer. God has not always answered my prayers the way I have wanted. I remember at eighteen. . . I prayed desperately for my own mother, who was not to be prevented from moving on to eternal glory.”

  “However, at a later time, my prayers for your own mother’s health were granted. She survived and delivered you and your brother.”