Clouds Over Pemberley

by Walter Oleksy

  My Dearest Sister, I have very good news. I met a little orphan girl at the library, and Mr. Darcy and I have adopted her. She is here beside us now, happy as a chipmunk. I at first wondered about how Mr. Darcy would accept the notion of adopting a waif, a German child of the poorest class who had been necessarily abandoned through no fault of her own. I thought that despite accepting me as his wife, not being of his society, he would not accept Heidi, our daughter-to-be. But he did not even seem to hesitate in agreeing we should adopt her. I believe his acceptance of her was out of love for me.

  I do love Heidi with all my heart. I also cannot help but hope and pray that, as I have heard sometimes happens, if a childless couple cannot conceive, and they adopt, they may yet have a birth child of their own. Still, should that not occur, I will be very content if Heidi is our only child. Mr. Darcy may have preferred we adopt a boy, but if God wills it, he may yet have a son and heir.

  Mr. Darcy may have grown accustomed to living with someone below his station in life. After all, the dog he adopted, Max, is not a purebred but a mixture of breeds, not entirely black Labrador. He is a mutt. Max and Heidi have taken to each other as soul mates, both of them having been abandoned.

  I know you are not tempted to reject those of lower stations in life, but embrace them with empathy, if not love. The different classes are, after all, the result of the accident of birth.

  I pray that no longer will people regard each other as the poor and the rich, them and us, but as we. Did not the Lord command us, “Love thy neighbor as thyself, as I love thee?”

  With that hopeful thought, I close this letter.

  Your loving sister, Lizzy

  Chapter Twenty-Eight A week after the O’Reilly’s left for Dublin by coach, Paula approached Elizabeth who was reading in the library at Pemberley while Mr. Darcy was out riding with Mr. Bingley. She handed Elizabeth a letter that had just arrived. Elizabeth saw that it was Ireland, and hastily opened and read it.

  Dear Mrs. Darcy,

  I have joyful news. I am with child and know that Mr. O’Reilly is the father. He has not dallied with anyone, I am certain. And yet more good news… While playing craps, Mr. O’Reilly won a large country house and we have moved there. It is near Galway Bay in beautiful green country near the village of Spiddle. The house is not nearly as large and grand as Pemberley, but you and Mr. Darcy can visit. All the Bennet’s can.

  I treasure your friendship very, very much.

  I didn’t think I needed it, but learned what true, unconditional love is, as exists between you and Mr. Darcy.

  Sean and I are sublimely happy together. We can hardly wait for parenthood. If she is a girl, we shall call her Elizabeth. If a boy, Darcy.

  By separate post, I am sending you a book of Irish recipes. I hope you will learn to prepare them as surprises for Mr. Darcy. Sean has decided not to study Holy Orders. Instead he will work on inventions he has in mind. He was never much of a frequenter of the library in Dublin, but is often at the one in Galway, reading on the subject. I have found that the young woman who is librarian there is quite knowledgeable on invention and many other subjects.

  Sean has become an avid reader of Leonardo da Vinci and envisions inventing a horseless carriage, candleless lighting, and a device whereby people can talk to each other at even great distances. Of course, he knows he is not a genius and may never invent such wonders. But he tells me it will be enough for him if he is fortunate enough to invent even one thing that will be a step along the way to help a really gifted person, man or woman, to invent what da Vinci dreamt. Galway locals have already taken to Sean and urged him to run for mayor. He declined, saying that rather than be a politician he should prefer to be a used carriage salesman.

  Your devoted friend, Pippa.

  A letter from Sean then arrived for Mr. Darcy.

  Dear Mr. Darcy, I again apologize for the sermon research my wife and I did for Mr. Collins. Anyone can avoid temptation, if their love is truly for their spouse, whoever and whatever that person’s gender might be.

  Pippa said she wrote Mrs. Darcy about my good luck at craps. We plan to convert the Galway House into a sort of inn, to rent rooms to overnight travelers and provide an Irish breakfast.

  We also plan to install tennis courts and convert some of the parkland to a golf course. There are many doctors in the area who would frequent it, I am sure. Pippa is with child. I can hardly wait to be a father. My child, I am certain. I confess I fell into temptation on my visit to England, but exercised temperance, in my fashion. Especially regarding Mrs. Darcy. I knew how that would displease you both.

  Regarding fisticuffs, since returning home, I have fought some bare-knuckle matches in Dublin, some toe-to-toe. I always get salutes and cheers from spectators while wearing my Irish flag.

  At your suggestion, I took in an orphaned and abandoned puppy, a stray bitch, and named her Annie.

  By-the-by, when you come to Galway I will have Levi Strauss make you a pair of my bluejeans. You would look smashing in them. Hot and sexy.

  Your devoted friend, Sean.

  The Darcy’s seldom exchanged letters, but they did these. Said Elizabeth to Darcy, “Let us plan a trip to Galway, soon.”

  Sean has a way with words, she thought. “Hot and sexy!” Those words apt describe Sean’s Levi’s. She could hardly wait to see Darcy in his. But would she ever wear a pair of bluejeans? She doubted even her granddaughters would. Or her great-granddaughters. Ladies would always wear dresses, not pants.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Elizabeth replied to Pippa: I must tell you the sad news that I miscarried, having fallen down some stairs. Mr. Darcy and I are adopting a waif, a darling orphan girl about six years old named Heidi. We love her dearly.

  And we are hopeful that I may yet give birth. One can always hope, I daresay. And most of us, I believe, live on hope. In other news, my silly sister Lydia, because of Mr. Wickham’s deviant behavior, has obtained an annulment to her marriage. She is again a single woman, living back at home with our parents. She seems content with her return to bachelorhood.

  Mary is again happily married to Captain Ahab, although he is away at sea again. Mrs. Bennet is back to finding husbands for Kitty and Lydia. This time she is not so bent on matching them with gentlemen of fortune, so long as they are what she considers to be “certified gentlemen.” How she will get such certification is beyond my ken. The pursuit should keep her occupied for some time.

  These marital aberrations have caused Mrs. Bennet great anguish, but also have distressed Mr. Bennet considerably. His friend Lord Henderson has invited him to visit again at Downtown Abbey and he has accepted, having left yesterday.

  Also regarding Mrs. Bennet, I enlisted Mr. Darcy’s assistance in persuading his aunt Lady de Bourgh to change her mind about possibly replacing Mr. Collins at Hunsford. I did not want him to lose his parsonage because it would displace his wife, my very good friend Charlotte. Lady de Bourgh agreed on condition that she in the future choose the subject of Mr. Collins’ sermons and that he take courses at an accredited ministerial institution, at his own expense.

  Charlotte is not entirely happy in her marriage, but has resigned herself to it. She and Mr. Collins rarely see or speak to each other anymore, both being so busy otherwise occupied. He with his clergyman duties and studies, and she has become engrossed in a culinary occupation.

  She is preserving fruits such as blackberries and apricots that when put in the sun and then allowed to ferment, turn into quite acceptable brandies. It is amusing because I have seen her sometimes tipsy on her concoctions. She encouraged me to taste some and I have, finding myself to be quite light-headed. One passes through or perhaps endures one’s life as best as one can.

  Mr. Wickham, as you know, is now living in Australia. He has written Mr. Darcy that he finds life on a sheep ranch in the Outback to be quite enjoyable. He said he looked forward to living in the best of both possible worlds, although it would be geographically around the globe from hi
s present abode. Mr. Darcy told me he did not understand what he meant. Nor do I. Perchance, do you? Whatever.

  I look forward to our next exchange of letters and a visit to Galway in the very near future. As for Mr. Collins’ sermon subject, again I assure you that neither Mr. Darcy nor I hold you or your husband responsible for what occurred among any of my sisters and myself and our spouses. Men, after all, are male animals, as Mrs. Bennet has said, and follow their innate instincts. Yet, they are faithful, in their fashion.

  Ladies such as you, Jane, and I are fortunate in that temperance always will overcome our temptation. And so it will be with our spouses. Mr. Darcy is out of the house, visiting the library in nearby Lampton, the closest public library to Pemberley. He seems lately to have renewed his passion for reading and spends more time at the Lampton library than previous.

  The gentleman librarian formerly in Lampton has recently moved to London to work and has been replaced by a young woman who had been the assistant librarian in Meryton. From my acquaintance with her there, I found her to be very knowledgeable about books and life in general, although she is quite young. She also is very charming and agreeable-looking. Dark-haired and slender, in some ways she reminds me of you.

  I must close this now, as the doorbell has rung, and I am alone in the house, having given the servants the morning off to attend a fair in Meryton. Mr. Darcy and I plan to attend it this afternoon.

  I expect the caller at the door to be the milkman with his thrice-weekly delivery. He is a young and lonely bachelor and often stays awhile to engage in general conversation. I enjoy his company.

  He is a very charming tradesman by the name of Errol Flynt. Tall, fair-haired, and most agreeable-looking. In both appearance and manner, he actually reminds me of Mr. O’Reilly.

  It amuses me to see Mr. Darcy display a slight tinge of jealousy when he sees me and Mr. Flynt discoursing. Of course that is absurd and totally unwarranted. The song of temptation in Mr. Collins’ sermon subject is ended and its melody decidedly has not lingered on, at least for Mr. Darcy and me, as and I am certain it has for you and Mr. O’Reilly.

  Well, dear friend Pippa, I digress when I should be ending this reply to your most welcome letter, and am in haste to go to the door. I hope sincerely that both of our futures will be bright.

  Your devoted friend, Elizabeth

  Chapter Thirty A carriage pulled up outside Pemberley House while Darcy was walking Max. A woman alighted and as she approached them, Max said “Woo woo!” and ran to her, his tail wagging happily.

  The woman, elderly and in back pain, bent down and picked him up, cradling him in her arms. “He ran off chasing a cat over a week ago,” said the woman. “My name is Judith Nash and I live near Lampton. I am a widow, and Charlie is my cherished friend and only companion. Wherever did you find him? I have been in hospital and unable to search for him or even post notices that he went missing.”

  Darcy’s heart sank in his chest. Max’s owner had come for him. He had done what Elizabeth had asked him, to see if he could learn from where the dog had come. He checked it out at the Meryton Animal House and when no puppy matching Max’s description had been sheltered there, nor had any “missing dog” notice been reported there, he left a “Found, abandoned puppy” notice.

  “I just got out of hospital this morning and went to the Animal House in Meryton to inquire about Charlie. I learned you had a puppy matching his description.”

  “So you are here to claim him,” said Darcy, crestfallen.

  Mrs. Nash was obviously his beloved puppy’s rightful owner, and was so happy to be back in her arms, that there was nothing for it but to let her reclaim him.

  “I shall miss you terribly, Maxer,” said Mr. Darcy kissing him goodbye on the head and getting kisses in return. “We have had wonderful times together.”

  Darcy thought, every day with a beloved pet is to be treasured.

  Darcy then said to Mrs. Nash, “But I can see he is happy being back with you, and you with him, so I have no objection to you taking him.”

  “You are most kind, sir,” said Mrs. Nash. “I can see that you have taken good care of him and I will be eternally grateful to you for rescuing him.”

  Tears came to Mr. Darcy’s eyes as it began to sink in that he was going to lose his furry friend. “But I have not come to take him away,” said Mrs. Nash. “Because of failing health, I have to give up my home and move into a retirement home. They do not allow pets of any kind, so I must give up Charlie. It breaks my heart, but at least I know where he is and that he has a loving new master.”

  Mrs. Nash returned Max to Mr. Darcy’s arms and he got more wet kisses all over his face.

  “I will take Maxer to visit you,” Mr. Darcy promised her.

  “That is allowed at the Sunset Retirement Home in Meryton,” said Mrs. Nash upon leaving.

  It had been a close call, and he might have lost Max, but Mr. Darcy thought he had done the right thing in checking on his ownership. He then wondered if he should do the same about Heidi. But it could lead to Elizabeth possibly losing her to the girl’s birth mother. Should he risk it? He decided to ask her about it.

  “We might not be as fortunate if you checked out Heidi,” said Elizabeth. Upon giving it some serious thought, she decided that would be best.

  Darcy inquired at the Social Welfare Agency in Meryton and learned about the real circumstances of Heidi’s being an orphan. “Her mother did have to give her up,” said Mrs. Karen Factorum, the welfare agent. “But it was most reluctant, because she had two younger children and could no longer afford to keep Heidi after her husband left her.”

  “I did not know that her husband left her and the children,” said Mr. Darcy. “He went back to Germany, to live with his male lover, a man he had worked with in a coal mine. Heidi’s mother and her two younger children are living in London with her widowed sister.”

  “She should not be required to give up her child for financial reasons. Would she take her child back if that were resolved?”

  “I am most certain it would be so.”

  Mr. Darcy gave the dilemma some thought, then said he would speak to Elizabeth about it.

  Back at Pemberley, Darcy told Elizabeth what he had learned and asked what she wanted to do about the sad results of his inquiry.

  Elizabeth, watching Heidi sitting nearby in the parlor while holding a doll in her arms, did not take long to reply.

  “She must be returned to her birth mother. It will break my heart to give her up, but that is the right thing to do.” “I shall notify Heidi’s mother with money to have her come here by carriage to be reunited with her daughter, and provide a substantial sum to care for her and all her children.”

  Elizabeth agreed and they embraced, each feeling the other’s sorrow in losing a loved one.

  Darcy sent Heidi’s mother fare to come to Pemberley to re-claim her daughter, and she arrived two days later.

  “She is not my daughter,” said the woman when the Darcy’s showed her. “My daughter’s name is not Heidi but Hildegard. I have never seen this child before.”

  The woman left and Elizabeth asked Heidi,

  “Who are you then? Who is your mother and how can we find her?”

  “My name is not Heidi but I took it because I liked its sound,” said the girl sadly. “I have twelve mothers.”

  The Darcy’s were astonished, and Heidi explained.

  “I was left at birth on the doorstep of a house in London that had red lanterns in its windows.” A familiar image came to Mr. Darcy’s mind. “I was taken in, and as I grew up there to the age of six, which was my last birthday, I learned that my home was called The International House of Pleasure.”

  A bordello!, Darcy almost exclaimed. Elizabeth read his mind and grimaced. “Twelve ladies became my mothers. But each spoke a different language… German, French, Italian and others. The only English words my mothers knew and taught me were those I was to speak to their gentlemen callers upon their arrival… ‘
Payment before service.’

  “They worked nights in the bed chambers, and I worked days and nights, changing diapers for their twenty baby daughters and sons, and baby-sitted when their mothers were otherwise occupied.

  “I got very little sleep because at night I was also put to work mixing drinks for my mothers and their gentlemen callers. I know how to make drinks of a dozen countries in Europe and Asia. I had to stand on an orange crate to reach the shelves where the bottles were stored.”

  “So what did you do?” asked Elizabeth. “I ran away about a month ago and came to Lampton and hid in the library. I didn’t think my mothers would go there looking for me. I doubt they are looking for me. I felt lost, until I found you.”

  Elizabeth scooped Heidi up into her arms.

  “And we are keeping you! Aren’t we, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Indeed!” he agreed.

  Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy looked at each other, thinking the same thing: All’s well that ended well, checking out both Max and Heidi.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mr. Bennet received a letter from Lord Henderson.

  Dear Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Henderson was so relaxed in her bath at Bath that she drowned in her tub. Her funeral was yesterday and I will accept my daughter’s invitation to move to Virginia. I will get a new home and wish you would join me.

  Mr. Bennet felt tempted. I am leaving the newspapers to my son. Hugh is illegitimate so he takes his mother’s name, Heflin. She was, as one might say, a one-night stop when I was just a lad. He is now editor and publisher of the newspapers in both Meryton and Lampton. He says he plans to publish a modern magazine for what he says is ‘the enlightenment of gentlemen.’ He envisions himself editing it from his bed while wearing silk pajamas. He intends to call it Bunnyhutch, but I suggested a better name could be Boys at Play.

  In any case, I doubt the magazine will survive beyond the first edition, although the two center pages will contain the photograph of a very beautiful blonde young lady that will likely get attention. But methinks the world is not ready for such a publication. We are still too close to the Victorian Era where temperance rules over temptation.