An Incident at the Royal Rest Inn

A savage storm, two distressed young couples, and an exhausted nursemaid change the courses of two little lives. Twenty years later, it becomes the burden of Fitzwilliam Darcy to discover and reveal the truth. But who will thank him and who will despise him for his efforts?

Prologue

The Royal Rest Inn was so named due to its much-repeated claim to have hosted not one, not two, but three royal guests during its existence. There was no clear proof, and many were skeptical, but enough believed the tale that the inn was usually the first choice for exhausted travelers… that was until the new highway took a new route, bypassing the old Monks Road for a more direct route southward towards London.

Over the past fourteen years the old inn had taken on a much more forlorn appearance, and it had changed hands twice. So then the new owners should have been extremely pleased when a massive storm flooded the new highway and drove two different carriages, travelling in opposite directions, onto Monks Road and into the waiting arms of The Royal Rest. Unfortunately, and perhaps ironically, the innkeeper's wife had suffered a miscarriage only the night before.

Nevertheless, an inn must do business to survive, and two relatively wealthy couples could certainly not be turned away. Irony having already been mentioned, it must now be noted that both couples, one arriving two hours after the other, were expecting new additions to their families… and both very soon. Why they were travelling so close to the expected due dates will not be mentioned at this point, though accusations and recriminations flew from at least one quarter on this issue for many years to come. Whatever the reason, the result was that two young ladies arrived at the same inn on the same day and both went into labor during that dark and torrentially stormy night.

The two fathers adjourned to the main room where each nursed their drink of choice. They paced. They read. They shared a few stories and jokes. They even attempted a game of chess, for which neither could produce the necessary concentration. Oddly enough, they never thought to share their names or discuss their homes. They shared camaraderie that night, but parted almost as near to strangers as they arrived.

Two beautiful baby girls were delivered, much to the delight of one mother and the chagrin of the other. Both mothers suffered during the long hours of delivery. Both were incapable, at least in the immediate aftermath of delivery, of providing nourishment for their young daughters. With the storm making even local travel impossible, the only available nursemaid was the innkeeper's own distraught and despondent wife. So then the woman who had just lost her own child had to sit up during the night. She enlisted the aid of a young niece who was good with babies, although not too bright. Because the little girls were both born with bald heads and blue eyes, the nursemaid elected to feed each at a designated breast.

This worked throughout that seemingly endless first night until near-dawn. One baby had fallen asleep and had been laid on the bed. The fussiest of the little girls remained stubbornly awake. She flailed and squirmed and finally managed to claw her food source with vicious little fingernails. In that moment of pain and distraction, the lethargic nursemaid switched the fussy little baby to her other breast, while taking careful charge of flailing claws. Both nursemaid and charge finally fell into a deep slumber. The niece, returning to the room after her own brief rest, followed the agreed-upon procedure, returning each baby to its respective cradle.

Dawn broke to a bright new day. Neither couple wished to linger when their homes were only a short carriage ride away. By mid-morning both families departed, one south to London and the other north to the little town of Meryton.

All records of their brief stays disappeared five months later when some exuberant guest from the Four-Horse Club overset a candle, burning the storied inn to the ground and taking the lives of both owners and several guests.

Chapter One – Newcomers at the Assembly

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as the entire assembled crowd, dancers, sideliners, and musicians alike, almost froze with the arrival of the strangers. She could only assume that this was the infamous Netherfield party. After a quick assessment, she turned to her best friend Charlotte, "Only five in the party? Do you know who each is?"

"The blond gentleman with the big smile is Mr. Bingley. The two ladies are his sisters. The shorter one is Mrs. Hurst; she is here with her husband."

"The tall, forbidding gentleman?" Lizzy inquired with attempted nonchalance as she admired the man.

Charlotte smiled, neither fooled nor surprised that the man would attract her friend's eye, "No, the rotund man who is making a run for the refreshments."

"Better and better, though the tall one does appear rather unhappy to be here. The sisters certainly seem more pleased with themselves than with their current surroundings."

Charlotte nodded. She had visited Netherfield Park with her father. The sisters, especially the younger one, had made no secret of their disdain for all things rural. "She will be acting as the hostess. She doesn't seem too impressed with our little area of England."

Lizzy flinched when she heard an all too familiar voice stating, entirely too loudly, "And Mr. Bingley's fortune is nothing to that gentleman's. Why, he has ten-thousand a year!" She turned away from the matron, hoping somehow to dissociate herself. The music began again and Toby Long stepped forward to claim his dance. Lizzy did her best to overcome her mortification, successfully enough that she was smiling again by the end of the dance. Charlotte had also danced, albeit with a much older man. The friends were reuniting to secure refreshments and continue their chat when their progress was interrupted.

"Girls! Girls! Come here! You too, Lizzy, though I don't know why I should bother," Mrs. Bennet's call was somewhere between a bark and a crow's caw. Elizabeth grimaced but obeyed, followed by Charlotte's sympathetic gaze. After marshalling her three eldest chicks, the mother hen led them over to where Sir Lucas was standing with four of the newcomers.

Good naturedly, if a trifle pompously, Sir William Lucas made the introductions, "Mr. Bingley, ladies, please allow me to introduce one of our foremost families, the Bennets. Mr. Bennet is not here tonight, but may I introduce Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary?" He paused to look for the missing duo and Mrs. Bennet promptly took over.

"So very honored to meet you, Mr. Bingley. As Sir Lucas said, this is my eldest, Jane. This is my middle child, Mary. My two youngest are over there dancing…" All eyes followed her gesture to see two young girls dancing and flirting rather outrageously with several men, "… and, oh yes, Lizzy." Her enthusiasm seemed to drop with the last introduction, causing all eyes to turn to the shorter, dark auburn-haired girl, who was flushing with embarrassment.

Mr. Bingley, who very seldom picked up on social cues, answered with a bright smile, "Very pleased to meet you all. Please allow me to introduce my dear friend, Mr. Darcy, my elder sister, Mrs. Hurst…" he paused for a disconcerted moment, only then realizing that his brother-in-law had vanished, "and my younger sister, Miss Caroline."

Mrs. Bennet gushed. Miss Bingley turned her nose up. Mr. Bingley solicited the next two dances from a blushing Jane, to which she assented. Elizabeth was aware of all of this in a periphery manner, but her focus was shifting between Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Darcy. For some odd reason, both of their gazes were fixed on her in the most unnerving manner. She was about to question them when her mother's voice intruded once again, "And do you dance, Mr. Darcy? My Mary is currently in want of a partner."

The plain, brown-haired girl mentioned had been focused elsewhere. With her mother's tactless prompt her focus was snapped back to the group with a look of alarm. Rather than respond, the tall, forbidding man scowled, bowed, and walked away. Mrs. Bennet's face contorted into a mask of hatred and she declared, "Why, have you ever seen such a proud, disagreeable man!?"

Mary had already headed back to her favorite corner, so it fell to Elizabeth to speak, "Mother! Please, he'll hear you!"

The older woman spun and turned her ire on her least favorite daughter, "Well I certainly don't care if he does hear. Who is he to look down on one of my precious daughters? I don't care if he does have ten-thousand a year! And you! Trying to put on airs like you are somebody special. Don't you ever try to correct me again!" With that, she headed towards the tables where the other gossiping matriarchs were sitting, rudely shoving past the stricken young woman.