Pemberley Chronicles

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  “He will be twenty-six, soon after Christmas,” Elizabeth replied. Nothing more was said on the subject, and after resting awhile, they went downstairs again and out into the late afternoon sunshine, where the fairground was slowly emptying as most people loaded up their carts and made their way home.

  Later, Elizabeth watched as her daughter persuaded first her friends and then her cousin Richard to join in the country dancing, which was in progress on the lawn. “Now there is a man with a big heart,” said Fitzwilliam, to Elizabeth. Mrs Gardiner, sitting beside them commented, “Cassy has been very busy all day, and yet she does not seem at all tired. Indeed, she looks livelier and more vivacious than ever in that pretty new gown.” Elizabeth touched her aunt’s hand and asked, “Do you think, dear Aunt, that there could be some special reason for this liveliness and vivacity?” Hearing something of the old archness in her niece’s voice, Mrs Gardiner looked quickly across at her, but she was prevented from answering by the arrival of William, who had stoutly refused to dance. Like his father, who had on a famous occasion in Meryton surprised Sir William Lucas with the laconic comment that, “Every savage can dance,” William found it a boring activity and rarely participated unless he had a particularly pretty or amiable partner.

  As the sun sank behind the hills, a cool breeze sprang up and reminded everyone that it was indeed Autumn. Many people came to thank Mr and Mrs Darcy for their hospitality and the opportunity to sell their wares. Mr Gardiner, seeing that his wife was looking rather tired, suggested that it was time to leave, but not before he had heaped lavish praise upon Elizabeth and Darcy and everyone involved in the day’s success. “I have to say, it has been a splendid day, Elizabeth. I am sure you will have requests for a repeat next year,” he predicted. Darcy agreed, adding that Sir Thomas Camden had offered to host the fair next year.

  “What an excellent idea,” said Mr Gardiner, expressing what appeared to be the general view.

  The family returned to the house, and Elizabeth suggested an early night. Charlotte and her two younger daughters were expected the following morning.

  That Pemberley was meant to be a venue for a grand ball was not in any doubt. Its gracious proportions and beautiful grounds, its exquisite furnishings and accessories, all combined to provide an ideal setting. Sadly, its present Master had no taste for dancing and did not give many balls.

  This occasion, however, was quite another matter, being in honour of three young ladies, who had all recently turned seventeen. No expense was spared to make it perfect for them. Jenny Grantham and a team of Pemberley staff together with hired help had spent many days getting all the arrangements right. Menus had been meticulously planned, and the best of everything—linen, chinaware, and crystal—brought out of storage to grace the tables. Vases and baskets of flowers filled the corners of every room, and hundreds of candles waited for twilight to be lit. Not one, but two, groups of musicians were to provide music—chamber music before and during dinner with music for dancing afterwards.

  Earlier that morning, hearing the sound of music floating through the house, Elizabeth had entered the music room, and seeing William’s golden head bowed over the instrument, she had felt, suddenly, unaccountably, sad. He looked lonely and vulnerable. He was determined to master a difficult passage in the composition and repeated it until he had it right. Elizabeth knew he would love to be a concert pianist; he had told her so when he was twelve. But would it ever do for the future Master of Pemberley? Would not everyone say it was frivolous self-indulgence for a young man in his position not to undertake a serious education?

  As he concluded playing, Elizabeth applauded. William turned and, delighted by her appreciation, came over to her. “William, that was good. Mr Goldman will be pleased,” she said.

  “But I suppose there is no hope of Papa’s permitting me to take it up seriously—as a career, I mean?” he asked, tentatively.

  “Have you ever tried asking him?”

  He shook his head and ran his fingers through his already unruly hair. “I am too afraid—not of Papa, afraid of being refused, I suppose. I just want to keep hoping.”

  “Is it what you really want to do?”

  “More than anything in the world, Mama,” he said, sounding so totally sincere and serious that Elizabeth felt a tug on her heart that made her promise to speak to Darcy, after all the festivities were over.

  “Perhaps we could suggest that you study music seriously, maybe with a more advanced teacher for two years, and then, if you did not wish to pursue it further, you would still be young enough to take on something else,” she said.

  “Such as managing Pemberley?”William quipped, with a sardonic smile. As he returned to the piano, she asked, “Will you play the new Mozart sonata for Papa and me, sometime?”

  He smiled, and his face lit up with pleasure, “Of course, I’d love to. Do you think it will help to persuade him?”

  “It may well do. In any case, it is a beautiful composition, and I am sure he will enjoy hearing you play it. Your Papa has an excellent appreciation of music.”

  He came back to her and suddenly, impulsively, hugged her as he used to do when he was a little boy. “You are the best mother in the world,” he declared. “Thank you.”

  Touched, Elizabeth embraced the boy, then begged him not to be too long. “I do need your help with Charlotte’s girls, and they will be here soon,” she said and gently shut the door behind her.

  That evening, Elizabeth took great care with her clothes and hair, selecting her gown and jewellery. It was a very special occasion. As she was completing her toilet, Cassandra came in to ask if she could borrow some of her mother’s jewels to set off her new gown. Her hair had been styled in the fashionable Grecian mode, and she had an extra glow of excitement that presaged something; her mother was not yet certain what it was.

  As she helped her select earrings and a necklace, Elizabeth asked, casually, “And has any gentleman asked you to reserve the first dance tonight?” She had expected an evasive answer, so it surprised her when her daughter laughed and said, “Oh yes, Richard has, for the first and the second and quite a few more.” Seeing her mother’s face, she added, “Mama, I fear I have fallen in love with him. I did not mean to, but there it is.” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

  “Indeed? And what is the cause of your fear?”

  “That Papa would not approve, which would really break my heart.”

  “And why should he not approve?” asked Elizabeth, quite unable to comprehend the logic of this argument.

  “I do not know, Mama. Richard is the most intelligent, handsome, kindest man for hundreds of miles around. Why on earth would Papa object? But Richard seems to be anxious too.”

  “I cannot imagine why,” said her mother, “And since Papa has not had the opportunity to do one thing or another, it hardly seems fair to assume he would disapprove.” Then deciding to defer the discussion, she added, “in any event, that is a matter that will arise only when Richard decides to ask your Papa’s permission, and we are not there yet. For tonight, my love, I suggest you enjoy yourself, but do be discreet.”

  “Oh I will, Mama, I do not wish to spoil anything, and neither does Richard.”

  That night, as they watched the dancers, Jane and Elizabeth let their imaginations wander at will. There were several handsome couples; Jonathan was dancing with Rose Fitzwilliam, Becky Collins danced often with young Anthony Tate, who was now editor of the Review, and Emma Bingley, without any doubt the most beautiful girl at the ball, was never short of partners.

  It was, however, Richard and Cassandra who caught their eye and caused Jane to comment that she hoped Darcy had prepared his speech, because he was surely going to need it very soon. Elizabeth had never been able to conceal anything from her dearest sister and found herself repeating her conversation with her daughter.

  Jane, remembering many unhappy, anxious days and nights spent wondering about the intentions of the men who became their husbands, smiled as she ack
nowledged that the younger generation was so much more open with their affections. “It is plain to see that Richard and Cassy are in love, and while there is no lack of decorum in their behaviour, they do not appear to wish to conceal their feelings. When I think of the unhappiness we suffered, I rejoice that our children will be spared such wholly unnecessary grief. Bingley and I have often regretted the long months we spent apart, being miserable, each ignorant of the other’s feelings.” Elizabeth agreed wholeheartedly and was only prevented from replying at length by her husband’s arriving to claim her for the next dance. She always enjoyed dancing with him yet could not resist taking the opportunity to tease him a little by trying to draw him into a conversation as they danced.

  “Have you noticed how well Cassandra looks tonight?” she asked.

  “I have indeed, she’s looking very elegant,” he replied, and then added, “But if my observation of young Doctor Gardiner is worth anything, I may have to begin preparing an answer to that question that all fathers of beautiful young women have to ponder.”

  “And have you thought what your answer will be?” his wife asked.

  “What would you like it to be, Lizzie?” he teased. She was determined that he should give her an answer, first.

  “It is you who will have to give him an answer. What is it to be?”

  Darcy smiled. “If you are content to leave it to me, I shall have no difficulty at all.

  Richard is perhaps the most eligible young man in the district, and I cannot think of anyone more suitable for Cassandra. He is mature and responsible, with a sound career, and she seems to have a good deal of affection for him. Has she told you she means to accept him?” he asked.

  “Not in so many words, but she isn’t likely to refuse him. They’ve been inseparable these last three days; they obviously enjoy each other’s company and do not seem to mind who knows it,” she replied.

  Darcy smiled and, like Jane, commented upon the open acknowledgement of affection that characterised the younger set. “If she accepts him, I can see no reason to refuse permission, provided they are willing to become engaged and wait until she is eighteen.” Delighted with his answer, Elizabeth longed to tell her sister and would have gone to her immediately, had there not been a sudden burst of applause from the dancers on the floor. William, for the first time, was leading a partner into the dance, and it was Charlotte’s youngest girl, Amelia-Jane, who was acknowledged by everyone to be the prettiest of the three Collins girls. William’s fair good looks, a striking contrast to his partner’s dark beauty, complemented Amelia-Jane’s graceful figure, as they went down the line of the dance. Elizabeth’s cup was full to the brim. Much as she loved her daughter and took pride in her achievements, it was her young son, now almost seventeen, who always made her heart race with joy. Because she had never had a brother, the birth of William had brought a new dimension to her life. He had, with his gentle affectionate nature, added considerably to the sum total of her happiness.

  When Darcy left her to join Bingley and Fitzwilliam, she found Jane on the stairs and immediately proceeded to share her secret. The sisters, after twenty years of marriage, had lost nothing of their sense of fun, and it was in conspiratorial whispers that they shared their information. Jane declared that there was no doubt in her mind, having observed the couple, that Richard intended to propose tonight. “Lizzie, they have never left each other’s side, except to dance with a cousin or a sister, and though they have been very discreet, I could swear I saw them slip away during the polka.”

  Just then, the musicians struck up a waltz, and apart from a few intrepid couples, the floor was left to the younger dancers, whose mastery of the light swirling steps was watched with envy and admiration by many. Jonathan, having claimed young Amelia-Jane, joined Richard and Cassandra and a few other couples on the floor, as the dance that had taken Europe by storm, and was the rage in the assembly rooms of London, invaded Derbyshire. When all the dancers finally left the floor and the weary musicians put away their instruments, it was late.

  As they went upstairs, Elizabeth looked in vain for Cassandra. She had half expected her to bring her some news, but she had disappeared. Only after the last carriage had left and the remaining guests had retired, was there a gentle knock on her door. Pulling her mother out into the cold corridor, Cassandra whispered the news that Richard was expected early on the morrow. “He is going to ask Papa,” she said, “but he wants to tell his parents first.” Elizabeth embraced her daughter and assured her they had no need to fear her father’s objections; there would be none. “Mama, do you think we shall be as happy as you are?” Cassy asked wistfully, to which her mother had only one reply, and that was given with all the assurance that she could muster.

  “If you are as sure of your feelings as we were when we married, I have no doubt of your happiness. Are you?” she asked. Cassandra’s voice was quite firm, “Oh yes, Mama, I have always adored him. He says he has loved me for years but was reluctant to declare it until he was settled in his profession. Tonight just seemed to be the perfect time.” Elizabeth smiled a wry smile, recalling how much difficulty Darcy had had with getting the words and timing of his proposal right. Richard had obviously had no such problem.

  The sun rose on a day as pretty, if a little cooler, than the one just past. The debris of the ball had been cleared away by a small army of servants, and the early risers had already ridden out to enjoy the fresh Autumn air in the park. Elizabeth, having told Darcy to expect Richard, had decided to spend a little longer in bed than usual and was still not fully awake, when Cassy bounded in, all dressed up and eager, urging her mother to rise and dress for breakfast. Elizabeth sent her away, but she returned half an hour later, to declare that Richard had already arrived and was in the morning room with her father. “Papa was just returning from his ride in the park with Mr Bingley, when Richard arrived,” she said, “so you must go down.” Elizabeth recalled the day, some twenty years ago, when Bingley, impatient to propose to Jane, had ridden over from Netherfield, almost before anyone at Longbourn was awake. He’d had to sit alone in the parlour, and poor Mrs Bennet had been thrown into complete confusion, while her daughters raced around upstairs, getting suitably dressed for their very welcome, though untimely, guest. Elizabeth sought, however, to calm her daughter’s anxiety, “Cassy, my darling, it is your father that Richard is here to see. Afterwards, they will want to see you, and when they do, you must be ready. I shall come downstairs to hear the good news before breakfast.” Cassy seemed unconvinced, but later, Elizabeth was proved right, when her father called her in to give them his blessing, by which time Elizabeth and William had come downstairs in time to wish the happy pair even greater joy.

  At breakfast, where they were joined by the Bingleys and Charlotte’s family, it was agreed that this was too good a day to spend indoors. The engagement and pleasant weather were justification for a picnic, and soon preparations were afoot, while Richard and Cassandra decided to drive to Lambton, to tell the Gardiners their good news, before returning together for the picnic in the park.

  As the family gathered that afternoon, on one of those magical Autumn days, when golden light filtered through the leaves creates a dream-like atmosphere, happiness reigned.

  For Elizabeth and Darcy, the engagement of their daughter to Richard, the son of the Gardiners, who were their dearest and most trusted friends, was a match made in heaven. Elizabeth could not imagine anything that could possibly spoil this perfect day.

  A repast fit for the occasion had been prepared and carried down to the picnic spot in baskets. Elizabeth had picked the prettiest spot in the park, shaded by ancient oak and elm trees, within sight of the stream, where they’d had many picnics but none as special as this, nor in such congenial company. The afternoon slipped by very slowly, in a kind of post-harvest haze, quite unlike the hectic days of Summer. Most of the guests declared they had too much to eat; some fell asleep, while the newly engaged couple strolled away for a quiet walk in the woods.
Elizabeth and Darcy were too comfortable to want to move just yet, but after a while Jonathan and William stood up and announced they would walk to the house, following the stream, and Edward, Caroline’s son, joined them.

  Some time later, Jane made to rise, and this prompted a more general movement, as Bingley rose to accompany her. A sudden gust of wind caught Elizabeth’s scarf and made her shiver as the oak leaves, russet and brown, showered down around her. Helping her up, Darcy said, “That was the first really cold gust of wind we’ve had all day,” and Caroline, putting on a wrap, agreed.

  “I’m afraid it looks as though our glorious Autumn weather is finally ending.” It was a remark she would recall again and again. Another cold gust, more leaves rustled down onto the grass, and everyone was ready to go indoors.

  As they approached the house, walking in groups or as in the case of Mrs Gardiner and Jane, driven in a little phaeton, Jonathan was standing in the drive, with a young man not much older than William. Elizabeth did not recognise him, nor did Darcy. But young Isabella Fitzwilliam did. “It’s that horrid Lindley fellow, Mama, his father has a farm at Bakewell, and they breed horses. They enjoy showing off.”

  “I wonder what he wants,” said Elizabeth.