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

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  Darcy put it succinctly. “It seems from what you say, Miss O’Connor, that if your family accepts the offer put by Barwick’s attorney, you would have to sell Willowdale Farm, but then, you would have no home and inadequate funds to purchase another. And if you refused, there are these indeterminate threats that you could lose your home anyway and be even worse off.”

  “And either way, Willowdale Farm would be destroyed, and they’d build a lot of dreadful villas in its place,” cried Laura Ann. “What can we do, Darcy?”

  Darcy looked unsure. “I wish my grandfather were here or Colonel Fitzwilliam, they’d know what to do.”

  “Why don’t we talk to Papa?” his sister asked.

  “We could do that, but Papa is not really interested in matters of property and is unlikely to know how one can legally thwart the plans of a developer.”

  With Marguerite looking increasingly more anxious, Laura said, “Well, there’s Aunt Caroline; she was very concerned about Barwick’s plans, even though she was unaware of the problem with Willowdale. I know she was going to the council again this morning.”

  It was Darcy who suggested that they meet at Pemberley and talk about the problem together.

  “Why Pemberley?” asked Laura Ann. “Mr and Mrs Darcy are away, and Anthony is not able to help us solve the problem, is he? He is ten years old.”

  “But Julian might, and it is right that we ask him,” said Darcy.

  Marguerite was puzzled; she knew little of the complex relationships that existed within the Pemberley families. “What has Pemberley to do with Willowdale Farm?” she asked.

  “Everything,” said Darcy. “Pemberley has everything to do with the manner in which land is bought and sold and developed in this district, because in the end, it will reflect upon the estate itself and the people who live and work here. My grandfather has always believed that and has taught me to look not at the prosperity of the estate alone, but of all the villages and farms that depend upon it. If the properties around Pemberley are chopped up into little parcels of land and sold off to buyers from outside the county, who have no particular interest in or love of the land, Pemberley itself will decline in value and stature. Mr Darcy certainly believed that, and I am sure Julian understands that as well as his father does. He may not have wanted the responsibility of the daily management of the estate, but I am quite certain he loves Pemberley and will do what he can to protect its interest.”

  Laura Ann agreed. “Mama has always believed that. Uncle Julian is much younger than her, and she knows his first love was his scientific work, but she is convinced of his loyalty to Pemberley. In fact, after his marriage to Jessica, he seems to have settled into life at Pemberley very easily.”

  Kate laughed a little wry laugh. “That would not be difficult, especially when Darcy and his mother do all the hard work,” she said, but did not deny that Julian appeared to have more time for the family estate. She supported also the suggestion that Caroline Fitzwilliam be consulted. “I agree with Laura Ann that Caroline should be asked; I do not believe there is one other person I know who is so well versed in the detail of council matters, and her advice will be invaluable.”

  Darcy was charged with taking the message to his parents and his uncle Julian, while Kate would visit Caroline. Meanwhile, Laura and Marguerite were to tell no one but Tom O’Connor of the letter that had been received from Barwick’s attorney and persuade him to come to Pemberley on the morrow.

  “Your brother, being the eldest in the family, must attend the meeting at Pemberley tomorrow, but were your mama to find out about the letter, she may well be so upset, she could talk to the neighbours, and if a rumour starts running, we will have little hope of doing anything at all to avert this disaster,” Darcy warned, adding, with deep sincerity, “And let us give thanks that Mr and Mrs Robert Gardiner are in London and unable to intervene; that at least is in our favour.”

  Returning to Willowdale Farm, they found Tom in a state of high euphoria. His meeting with Mr Walter Tate had resulted in an offer of a position at the printery, initially as an under-manager who would oversee and direct the printing of the Review, but with the prospect after some months of a position in which he could occasionally write for the paper.

  “I cannot yet believe it myself,” he said, unable to stop smiling as he spoke, “and Laura Ann, I shall be forever in your father’s debt. Please, Miss Gardiner, do tell him and say that I thank him from the bottom of my heart. I shall write to him too, of course.” Both Laura and Marguerite were so pleased for him, they regretted having to curtail his happiness with the news of the threat to Willowdale.

  On the pretext of hearing more about his new job, they took him out into the garden, and there, while Mrs O’Connor revelled in the scent of Kate’s roses, which she was arranging in a bowl, Marguerite revealed the letter, begging him not to let their mother discover the truth.

  Upon reading it, Tom was so stricken that he was speechless for fully five minutes. He walked about the terrace, clearly confounded. He had feared for the neighbourhood on hearing about Barwick’s plans for mansions and villas for the wealthy, but had never dreamed it could affect his own home. “But what is to be done? Who will help us?” he asked and was told of the plans they had made to meet with Julian Darcy and Caroline Fitzwilliam at Pemberley.

  “Why at Pemberley?” he asked; like his sister, he was unaware of the ramification of interests in the district. When it was explained, he agreed and added that he had talked with Mrs Fitzwilliam when she had offered him a ride in her carriage and found her to be a most knowledgeable and determined lady. “If anyone can help us, she can,” he said, and turning to Laura Ann he said, “I have written a letter to Doctor Gardiner giving him my good news and thanking him for his kind recommendation, all the more valuable since it was unsolicited. I intended to post it tomorrow, but if you would take to him tonight, Miss Gardiner, I should be most grateful.”

  She indicated that she would be more than happy to do so, but invited him to call on her father and thank him personally, whenever he wished. “He will be very happy to see you I am sure,” she said, adding as an afterthought, “and so will Mama and I.”

  He smiled, and though he said nothing, she knew he was pleased. Laura Ann was glad that something good had come of his meeting with Walter Tate to alleviate the shock and anxiety caused by the attorney’s letter.

  What Laura could not have known was the incipient fear that many Irish families had of being thrown off their land and left destitute. Having been treated with scant respect in their own country for centuries, they had little faith in the systems of administration and justice. Consequently, they placed a far greater value on the kindness and support of friends.

  * * *

  When it was time for Laura Ann to leave, Tom walked with her to the gates of Camden Park and, as they parted, said again, “I shall never forget the kindness of your father; it has given me so much hope. It has opened up a whole new horizon for me, as indeed have you, Laura Ann. May I say that I enjoy and value your friendship like no other I have known in all my life. It is very special to me.”

  Taken aback by the extravagance of his words and the intensity of feeling they implied, Laura recalled something Elena O’Hare had once said about her fellow countrymen. “One must beware of the Irish, Laura Ann; they have a dangerous streak of poetry in their speech. They will use words to create ecstasy out of simple pleasures and make great tragedy out of tiny wounds,” she had said.

  At the time, Laura had laughed and said surely that could not be such a bad thing, if one could make much of little, especially if life only gave one small servings of happiness. Perhaps, she thought now, that streak of poetic exaggeration may come through in other situations as well.

  Nevertheless, she appreciated the sincerity with which he spoke and responded with characteristic honesty, “And so do I value and enjoy your company, Tom; I have never had so many interesting conversations before with anyone,” she said, watching with so
me amusement as his eyes lit up with deep pleasure and a smile transformed his countenance. He kissed her hand, saying softly, “Thank you, Laura Ann. I did say you played Chopin like an angel, did I not? But I now believe you really are an angel; God bless you.”

  Truly, Laura thought, never before had she known such a fascinating young man.

  Chapter Five

  When they met at Pemberley, none of the members of the family had any notion of how they would deal with the situation that confronted the O’Connor family. At the time Darcy Gardiner had approached his mother and then his uncle Julian Darcy about the plan, they had been somewhat cautious in their support. Cassandra had expressed sympathy for the O’Connors and suggested that perhaps they could be offered the services of Mr Darcy’s lawyers to contest Barwick’s approach, but Darcy and Laura had convinced her that it would be useless to take the matter into the courts; everyone knew that developers had the money to litigate forever, and the O’Connors could not afford it.

  While Julian and Jessica were so incensed by the prospect of having Pemberley surrounded by a patchwork of subdivisions, each with its own mansion or Roman villa, that they offered wholehearted support to any campaign against the men who would perpetrate this atrocity, they were unsure as to what more they could do.

  “My father has long predicted that if these people are permitted to do as they wish, much of the best land in these parts would soon be destroyed,” said Julian gloomily.

  His nephew agreed. “That is unarguable. They will fell the woods, subdivide and fence the commons, and dam the streams as they have done elsewhere in England. The rural scene will disappear beneath a tide of development.”

  “And,” Laura Ann added, “they will build these hideous Roman villas all over the countryside.”

  “I think Aunt Caroline will be best able to advise us,” said Jessica, and since Julian agreed, it was settled that they would meet for a council of war on the morrow.

  When they did gather around midmorning in the saloon, Caroline had both good and bad news for them. The good news concerned the imminent arrival in England of Martin Faulkner—a young man not yet seventeen years old, son of Daniel Faulkner, who had recently married Caroline’s daughter Rachel. Not everyone in the party knew of Martin, and Caroline took much pleasure in enlightening them, explaining that he had won a scholarship to study at an excellent college in Edinburgh, adding with genuine delight, “And during school holidays, he is to stay with me. I have very good reports of him, and if he is anything like his father, I expect we will get on very well. You must all come over and meet him when he arrives.”

  Knowing how much Caroline missed having her family around her, especially since the death of her beloved colonel, the rest of the family agreed that the arrival of young Martin Faulkner was very definitely happy news for her as well as Daniel and Rachel.

  But, on the question of the developer Mr Barwick, Caroline had no good tidings for them; indeed, the situation was quite the reverse, and the news was worse than they had first thought.

  On her visit to the council, Caroline had discovered that Barwick proposed to purchase three large properties, and there was nothing that anyone could do to prevent him from building any number of Roman villas or any other dwelling so long as his plan had the approval of the council.

  “In addition to the old workhouse site, on which he is building a residence for his own family, he has also bought up a farm just outside of Matlock and is in the process of negotiating with the Clarke family to buy Trantford Manor,” she said, and the gasps this information elicited from Cassy and Jessica were proof of their outrage.

  Trantford Manor was a large property situated at Birchgrove some miles from Pemberley, boasting an old historic manor house in a picturesque setting, with a large mixed farm, stables, and several tenants’ cottages all screened from the road by a grove of graceful old birch trees that gave the district its name.

  The Darcys and Gardiners knew the Clarke family that had lived at Trantford Manor for several generations. The death of their father a few years ago had resulted in some financial embarrassment for his wife and daughters, and it was generally known that they lived now in somewhat straitened circumstances.

  “I cannot believe they would sell to a developer who would destroy the place and throw their tenants out on the street,” said Jessica, who was a friend of the younger Miss Clarke. “It is their family home.”

  Caroline was not so sure. “Well, Mrs Clarke is probably too old to care, and her eldest daughter is married to an ambitious man, who will probably prefer to have the money rather than an historic manor house,” she said and proceeded to reveal that she had seen the plans submitted by Barwick for the development at Birchgrove and they included seven Italian-style villas and other smaller dwellings, each in their own enclosed subdivision of a few acres.

  “As for the birches, they would be the first to go. What would be the point of Roman villas if they are hidden from view by a grove of trees?” she asked dramatically.

  “Good God!” said Julian, “that would be a tragedy. How on earth can he be stopped?”

  “Well he cannot, not at Birchgrove if the family agrees to sell,” said Caroline, “because if he acquires the property and the council approves his plans, he is quite entitled to go ahead and build them.”

  Jessica spoke a little tentatively, conscious of her situation as Julian’s wife. They were guests at Pemberley since Julian had relinquished his right to inherit the estate, and she had no wish to force her opinions upon any of them, but she did have an idea she wished to explore. “I wonder what price they have offered the Clarkes for Trantford,” she said, and Tom O’Connor, who had been sitting with Darcy and Kate Gardiner, transfixed by the scale and elegance of Pemberley and reluctant to intrude with an opinion on what was clearly a family conference, spoke for the first time. “If it is anything like the offer they have made for Willowdale Farm, it will not be a fair price,” he said, producing the letter and passing it round.

  Having read the letter, Jessica said, “I think I should like to visit the Clarkes; I knew the younger Miss Clarke well and I am sure I could find out.”

  “And if you did, what would we do?” asked Cassy.

  “If we could suggest to them that it is not a fair price, that they are about to be cheated, they may not wish to sell, or at the very least, they may agree to delay the decision to sell.”

  “And how would that affect Willowdale?” asked Laura Ann, whose chief concern had been to help the O’Connors save their home.

  Jessica explained that any delay in acquiring the properties, and the possibility that he may not get them as cheaply as he had hoped, would disrupt Barwick’s plans and buy more time for the O’Connors and Willowdale.

  “It would certainly allow us time to work on the council, not all of whom are in favour of Barwick buying up parcels of land all over the county. Some of them are concerned about outsiders coming in, manipulating the market, and cheating the landholders of their rights,” said Caroline.

  She then paused, took a deep breath, and said, “Now, I do have another suggestion, which, if all else fails, could be used to protect Mrs O’Connor and her family from being harassed into selling Willowdale, but we shall have to act very quickly.”

  Caroline’s skill and her many successes in dealing with such matters were well known; everyone turned to listen. Addressing Tom O’Connor, she said, “Mr O’Connor, forgive me, but I have to ask you a few questions before I can tell if this plan will succeed. You will need to reveal exactly the price your family paid for Willowdale and produce your title deed. Would you be willing to do that?”

  Tom looked a little surprised, but made no objection. “The title deeds and other papers relating to the purchase are with the lawyers in Derby. I would be quite happy for you or Mr Darcy Gardiner to see them, and I doubt that my mother would have any objection,” he said.

  “Very good,” said Caroline and then proceeded to outline her plan. “Cassy an
d Julian, this is where you come in. We shall have to get Mr Darcy’s attorney out here to advise on the details and draw up the documents, but, in a nutshell, the plan is to have you lend the O’Connors a sum of money from the Pemberley Trust; it need not be large, an inconsequential but credible sum is all that is required, but they must lodge with your lawyers the title deed to Willowdale Farm as security for the loan. Consequently, Willowdale Farm will be legally under mortgage and the O’Connors will no longer be free to sell their property to Barwick or anyone else.”

  “Is that all?” asked Cassy.

  “Yes,” said Caroline, smiling.

  “That is a brilliant scheme,” said Darcy, but Tom asked, “What if they offered to pay off the loan and so release the property?”

  “They may offer, but if Cassy and Julian, representing the interests of the Pemberley Trust, refuse, they are stymied and can go no further. No one can compel the Pemberley Trust to accept any offer from Barwick in repayment of a loan for which the O’Connors are responsible.”

  Julian shook his head. “Caroline, how on earth did you think up such a perfect scheme?”

  “And so simple, too,” said Laura Ann.

  Caroline smiled and said modestly, “My father did something similar once, when a competitor tried to force his hand over a couple of our properties in Liverpool. It worked then, Mr Darcy was the lender on that occasion, and I just thought it might work again. It does depend on Cassy and Julian agreeing to the deal and Mr O’Connor, of course.”

  “There would be no time to consult my father,” warned Julian.

  “There would be no need,” said his sister. “We are joint trustees, Papa has authorised us to act in Anthony’s interest, and anything that affects Pemberley is certainly in Anthony’s interest.”

  “Of course it is,” said Laura Ann. “Well done, Aunt Caroline; your plan may save Willowdale for the O’Connors.”

  Caroline was cautious. ‘“If you are willing to participate, Tom?” she said.