Legacy of Pemberley (The Pemberley Chronicles; Pride and Prejudice Sequel Series)

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  At this she laughed and then bit her lip as though she could hear Fitzwilliam’s voice in his words. “Well, now I have decided, and I need your help to present my plan to my children and make them understand why I have done this.” So saying, she left him to work in the study and went to join her family, having ensured that he had plenty of refreshments to keep him happy while he toiled over the task she had set him on.

  After they had all finished tea and were in good spirits, she shepherded them into the drawing room and, having settled them down with very little preliminary explanation, brought in Mr Jennings, whom everyone except Daniel knew well, but no one was expecting to see at this time.

  There was a general murmur in the room, of mild surprise perhaps, before Caroline said, “I know you are all wondering what I am about to do and why Mr Jennings is here; well, I am going to tell you. I have done this because I do not wish to leave you with any nasty surprises when I am gone, and before you ask, no, I am not unwell, but this is as good a time as any.

  “We are about to celebrate Rachel’s engagement to Daniel Faulkner and two days after Christmas, we will meet again to see them married. Today, I wish you to know what I have decided to do about the family estate, which, in your father’s will, was left entirely in my hands. I asked Mr Jennings to join us, so you can ask him any questions you wish to and he can set your minds at rest about what I have done. I thought it would be best, so we need have no anxiety or squabbling after I am gone.”

  Both Isabella and David protested that she was talking about dying as though it was imminent.

  Caroline, anticipating their objections, held up a hand. “I may not look as though I am about to leave you, and I assure you I am in very good health, but we never can tell when we are to be called away, so please bear with me, my dears. Here is what I have decided. I intend to leave the home farm and this house to James, on condition that if any of his sisters is widowed and needs a home, they will have a place here.”

  At this, young James, who was cuddled up close to his eldest sister, Isabella, smiled without much understanding and rested his head on her shoulder. Isabella shivered and put her arms around him. The decision did not affect either Isabella or David; they had homes of their own and had no interest in the farm, but the thought of her mother’s death was chilling.

  Caroline went on, “David will continue to run the family business, and he will get all of his father’s shareholding to add to his own, while my shares, which make up almost a third of the total, will be divided between my three daughters, Bella, Amy, and Rachel, who will also receive a third each of the interest from my investments as regular income.”

  All three young women looked quite pleased with this announcement, but there was more to come.

  “Finally, there is your father’s annuity. It is not large and will not add much to your own incomes if it were to be divided amongst you. So I am asking you to agree to let me use it to help perhaps one of the most needy groups in our community: women, usually but not always widows, with young children, who have no one to support them and nowhere but the workhouse to go for shelter.

  “I propose to purchase the old manor house at Arrowfield and have it made ready to be used as a refuge for these women and their children. If you agree and we make an immediate start, we may well be able to take in a few of them this Winter. I should like Amy and Rachel to help me with organising it. Your dear husbands will minister to their spiritual needs, no doubt, but I think we must ensure they are fed and sheltered as well.”

  Both her daughters looked a little surprised but neither demurred. They were both aware that in the parishes of Kympton and Riversleigh there would be many such women, with nowhere to go but the workhouse.

  Caroline continued, “I shall set the place up and run it for now, but when I am gone, I shall expect you to continue with the work. Your father and I often discussed the need for such a place, and I am quite sure he would approve of it. Now, are we all agreed?”

  Amy and Rachel agreed immediately, and not a single voice was raised in dissent. Caroline looked around the room at her children, their husbands and wives, and smiled. If any of them had been shocked by her extraordinary plans, they were very good at concealing their feelings, she thought.

  “Bless you,” she said and then turned to the attorney at her side. “Now, Mr Jennings will answer any of your questions,” she offered, and the gentleman looked ready and willing to oblige, but apart from a couple of formalities, no one troubled him for advice that evening.

  “I shall prepare a formal document incorporating all these matters and provide each of you with a copy,” he explained. “The original document will of course be lodged in my safe.”

  When it was done, Caroline said to Mr Jennings with a bright smile, “Well, that wasn’t at all difficult, was it, Mr Jennings?” to which he replied, “Not at all, Mrs Fitzwilliam, I could wish that all my clients managed their business with the same ease and civility as you and your family have just done.”

  Later that night, following a splendid celebratory dinner and after all their guests had either departed or retired to bed, Caroline wrote to Anna and Jonathan Bingley, expressing her thanks especially to Jonathan for his advice, which she had sought while at Netherfield.

  I believe I owe it to you, Jonathan, that everything was so well accepted by all of my children; your advice that I should explain my reasons to them surprised my attorney, Mr Jennings, but later even he was impressed by the civility with which the business was done.

  Inviting them to attend the wedding of her daughter Rachel to the Reverend Daniel Faulkner in December at the parish church at Riversleigh, she wrote:

  My dear Anna, it gives me such joy to tell you that your dear brother Daniel has been received with such affection and warmth by everyone in the family that Rachel claims he will soon be their favourite in-law! My eldest girl, Isabella, had occasionally complained that I wasn’t doing enough to find Rachel a good husband; well, she now admits that left to her own devices, Rachel has done very well indeed. His kind and considerate nature together with his undoubted intelligence and excellent judgment will ensure he will be both a good husband and an exemplary rector of the parish.

  I am confident my dear husband would have approved of him.

  There could be no higher praise from Caroline.

  * * *

  As the year drew to a close, with light snow falling on the mountains and a little sunlight struggling through the high windows of the church, Rachel was married to Daniel Faulkner in the presence not only of their families and friends, but almost all the people of the parish of Riversleigh, who had come to welcome their new rector and his wife.

  Transformed by the hard work of several parishioners who had provided their labour, the church and its superb altarpiece glowed as Frank Grantley led the congregation in the marriage service and blessed the pair who had chosen to serve this small community together.

  After a somewhat grander than expected wedding breakfast, for Caroline had not the heart to do otherwise for Rachel, the couple left, not to speed to some stately hotel but to return secretly to the warmth and intimacy of the rectory that was their new home.

  It had been Daniel’s idea, put rather tentatively at first, for he had feared she may be disappointed, but Rachel had agreed enthusiastically, convincing him that she wanted nothing more. Daniel had been concerned that she may have been disappointed, for they had spoken once or twice of visiting the Lake District; Daniel had heard a great deal about its beauty but had never been there.

  But Rachel had reassured him, “The Lakes can wait until we have some time to spare, perhaps next Summer. Besides, Mrs Darcy has invited us to stay at her farm on the Albury Downs, where we will be a good deal warmer than in Cumbria!” she’d said.

  “And have you accepted?” Daniel asked, to which she replied softly, “I have indeed, but I shall have to confess that we will be spending a few days at Riversleigh first, before travelling south to Woodlands. But
have no fear, Mrs Darcy is the very soul of discretion, she will not say a word to anyone, I can promise you that.”

  “And are you certain it is what you want, my love?” he asked, still anxious to please her, and Rachel had put her arms around him as she said, “More certain than I am of anything else, Daniel, except that I love you and want to be your wife,” which brought a predictable fond response.

  As Rachel wrote in her diary that night:

  I believe Daniel was very surprised when I told him I could think of nothing I should like better than to spend our wedding night at the rectory at Riversleigh. But truly, I cannot, for what could be sweeter than to fall asleep with the sound of the river rushing over the stones and awake at dawn beside my dear husband, hearing the birds calling in the wood behind the church, and look out upon the clear water with the mountains in the distance, knowing that this is indeed our home. Where better to affirm our love?

  Chapter Twelve

  The roses that Colonel Fitzwilliam had planted in a garden bed beside the windows of his study had long finished their blooming, and Caroline was pruning them hard, recalling as she did so that it was a task her late husband had carried out with great energy at the end of each year, declaring that the deeper the cuts in Winter, the more vigorous would be the new growth in Spring and the more beautiful blooms she would have. The memory was vivid and it hurt; it was with some difficulty that she held back the tears.

  She had decided it was the day to prune the colonel’s roses. Concentrating upon her task, she had not heard the arrival of a vehicle at the front door, and it was not until she heard the crunch of footsteps on gravel that she looked up and saw Mr Jennings, her attorney, standing a few feet from her as she gathered up the pruned debris into a wheelbarrow.

  Surprised, she smiled and got to her feet. She knew he was due to deliver some documents relating to the changes to her will, but had not expected that he would be around this early in the New Year. “Mr Jennings, how very nice to see you. Are you here on business or is this a social call?” she asked and was surprised to hear him say, “I have brought your copy of the document, as promised, but I had hoped to convey my best wishes for the New Year as well. We have not met since Miss Rachel’s wedding,” he reminded her.

  “That is true,” said Caroline, and she thanked him, then seeing it was almost eleven o’clock, invited him to take tea. As they walked around to the entrance, she saw the large basket of exquisite hothouse blooms standing beside the front door.

  Mr Jennings, like his father before him, was an enthusiastic grower of exotic orchids; she remembered her husband having long conversations with both men about their collection. “Are these from your conservatory? They are beautiful, Mr Jennings, thank you; I do hope you haven’t completely denuded your orchids; oh what glorious colours, and they do last forever, unlike my roses, which though beautiful, are often blown too soon, for all the effort we put into them.”

  “Yes indeed,” he said, “it was the reason my father preferred to grow orchids. He said they gave a better return for the effort.”

  Caroline laughed and said, “That is a very utilitarian argument to use about something as beautiful as flowers, Mr Jennings, but he was right. My husband loved roses above all other flowers; he spent hours tending them. But I do know he admired your father’s orchids very much, and who would not? They are quite superb.” Mr Jennings, clearly pleased, helped her carry the basket indoors and waited in the hall until she had divested herself of gloves and hat before entering the parlour.

  Once they were seated, Mr Jennings extracted the document he had prepared from his briefcase and presented it to her, watching her as she read it through. When she had done so, she said simply, “That looks exactly right, Mr Jennings, thank you. But there was no need for you to bring it with such haste.”

  Jennings smiled, indicating that it had been no trouble to do so. He had known Caroline and Colonel Fitzwilliam for most of his life, since his father had been the colonel’s attorney while he was still at college studying the law. He remembered being struck by her beauty and vivacity when she and the colonel were married, and the energy with which she would take on and pursue each of the causes her husband espoused. She was still a remarkably attractive woman, he thought, and she had lost none of her vitality or humour.

  During the next hour, they took tea and refreshments and talked of many things, mostly inconsequential matters. Occasionally she mentioned the colonel, and Mr Jennings looked rather uncomfortable, as if he wished she hadn’t, and Caroline wondered at his discomposure.

  Noticing that Mr Jennings had suddenly gone very quiet, Caroline, trying to make conversation, asked if he was returning to Derby that evening.

  “No, I am not,” he replied. “I expect to stay in the area for a day or two; I have taken rooms at the Matlock Arms,” but he gave no reason. Thereafter, it seemed there was very little else to talk about, except for Caroline to offer Mr Jennings more tea. His revelation that he was staying at the Matlock Arms indicated to her that he would not be in a great hurry to leave. Perhaps, she thought, he may even expect to be asked to stay to dinner. After her exertions in the garden, Caroline was beginning to feel rather tired, and as the afternoon wore on, she wondered how she could, politely and without offending him, send her unexpected guest on his way.

  Suddenly and fortuitously, there was a disturbance outside the window, and looking out, she saw Sarah, one of the maids, running out of the farm gate in a clearly distressed state. Glad of the distraction, Caroline rose and moved quickly to the door, making as if to leave the room.

  It was then that Mr Jennings stood up and, barring her way, said in a rather strange formal voice, “Mrs Fitzwilliam, would you spare me a little time, please? There is an important matter I wish to bring to your attention.”

  Surprised, Caroline stepped back, but pointed out that she wished to discover what had caused her maid to run out of the farm gate.

  “If you will pardon me, Mr Jennings, I am concerned about Sarah, she is obviously in some distress; I will return as soon as I am satisfied that she is safe and all is well.” She spoke so firmly, he knew he had to move aside.

  When Caroline returned, having settled the matter of Sarah’s temporary anguish, she found the attorney sitting somewhat disconsolately beside the fire, which had almost died out in the grate. The room was cold, and Caroline apologised before she set about swiftly stoking it up to a reasonable blaze.

  She noted as she did so that he had not offered to do the job himself, presumably expecting her to summon a servant, but Caroline was keen to be rid of him and did not wish to prolong the process. She was about to order more tea, when he said, “I think I have had sufficient tea, thank you, Mrs Fitzwilliam. There is a matter that I particularly wish to speak to you about.”

  More than a little surprised, Caroline sat down in the chair across from him, wondering what it could be that was so urgent, since he had assured her that everything concerning her will had been carefully checked and was quite in order and there appeared to be no problem with the new arrangements she had put in place.

  When he began to speak however, her surprise turned to amazement, for it appeared Mr Jennings had nothing to say about her will. Instead, it seemed he wished to make her an offer of marriage. Caroline, who was aware that Mr Jennings was some years her junior, could scarcely believe what she was hearing.

  He spoke in much the same kind of voice and used very similar language to that which he used when giving her legal advice, and made no pretence of being in love with her, for which Caroline was grateful.

  “At least it means I need feel no remorse at refusing him,” she thought as she heard him declare that he had always respected her and her family and hoped that the long association that existed between his firm and her family would help strengthen her trust in him.

  As she listened, her astonishment increasing with every sentence, he reminded her that his father and he had served her family for many years with unswerving l
oyalty and placed on record his admiration for the manner in which she had supported her husband Colonel Fitzwilliam in all his endeavours. But he proceeded to point out that as a woman alone she may not have the same advantages that she enjoyed as the colonel’s wife and would probably value the protection and favour of a husband.

  Having pointed out the potential hazards of her present situation, he then stated his hope that she would consider his proposal favourably because, he said, they had always got on well together and he had decided that they could be excellent companions for each other in the future. He assured her gravely that he would ask for no changes to be made in her will, since he respected her desire to provide for her children, as he had for his, and added that if she did not wish to move to Derby, he would not press her to do so, understanding her desire to remain in the home she had made for her family over many years.

  “Which means,” thought Caroline, “he intends to move in here!” It was not a prospect that appealed to her at all.

  Finally, almost as an afterthought, he added that he thought he should assure her that, although it had been five years since the death of his late wife, he had made no approaches to any other lady because, he claimed, none of them would have been a worthy successor nor did he believe they could have made him happy. “That I have done today what I have avoided these five years is proof of the admiration and respect I feel for you, and I hope most fervently that it will convince you to accept my suit, ” he concluded a little breathlessly, leaving Caroline feeling exceedingly discomfited.