Pemberley: The Next Generation
Susie Darcy’s Tenacious Nature
Wendy Soliman
Pemberley: The Next Generation
Susie Darcy’s Tenacious Nature
Copyright © Wendy Soliman 2018
Edited by: Perry Iles
Cover Design by: Jane Dixon-Smith
This e-Book is a work of fiction, based on the characters created by Jane Austen in her novel, Pride and Prejudice. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations contained are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance of actual living or dead persons, business, or events. Any similarities are coincidental.
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Chapter One
Pemberley, Derbyshire: Spring 1819
‘I had no idea we were on the point of welcoming artistic royalty to the district,’ Lizzy remarked. ‘I thought Mr Tyrell was the darling of the Royal Academy, firmly established in London. What business could possibly bring him to our corner of Derbyshire?’
‘I am sorry to disappoint you, my dear,’ Will Darcy replied, ‘but it is not Samuel Tyrell whom we shall be entertaining. It is his son James.’
‘I have heard that he’s rapidly gaining a reputation for landscape painting too, although perhaps that is in part thanks to his father’s patronage. Art lovers are so keen to cultivate the father’s good opinion that they flatter the son regardless of whether he deserves such praise.’
‘I see you have already made up your mind on the matter.’ Will fixed Lizzy with a tender smile. ‘Since I am well aware that you abhor false flattery, I cannot say that I am surprised.’
‘I have learned not to jump to conclusions based on conjecture…indeed I have!’ she protested, laughing when Will raised a brow in evident disbelief. ‘I am no longer the impulsive, opinionated female you took such instant dislike to all those years ago in Hertfordshire.’
‘I never disliked you.’
‘We shall not argue the point, since I am intrigued to know more particulars about our soon-to-be neighbour and, more specifically, why he felt the need to contact you even before arriving in Derbyshire.’
‘I have a passing acquaintance with his father, who knows Pemberley to be the principal residence in this area. Even so, I agree with you, it seems like an extreme courtesy to contact me so precipitously.’ Will tapped the letter he had just received from Mr James Tyrell against his thigh, his expression thoughtful. ‘He says there is a matter of extreme urgency he wishes to bring to my attention, although he gives no indication as to what it could be.’
‘And he needs your local influence to help him unravel this urgent matter.’ Lizzy, whose interest was piqued, fell into momentary contemplation. ‘One forms the opinion, most likely erroneously, that all artists are taciturn and reclusive, using their talent as an excuse to either hide from society or hurl abuse at anyone who dares to distract their creativity. Hopefully Mr Tyrell will not live up to my preconceived ideas in that regard. We could do with an interesting addition to our social circle.’
‘I would never knowingly curtail any pleasure of yours, my dear. However, dare I suggest that we permit Tyrell to call upon us and get a feel for the man himself before dragging him into social engagements he might prefer to avoid?’
‘Certainly we shall. Anyway, Susie will be pleased to meet him, I should think. She has applied herself to her own artistic endeavours since Rosie left us and I think her passion for watercolours has made her feel less…well, exposed.’
‘Because she will be the last of the girls to marry?’
‘She is quite determined not to. She sees no pressing need to embrace matrimony and I cannot blame her for that. She has seen her sister and all her female cousins marry for love and is unwilling to accept anything less for herself.’
‘How very wise of her.’ Will smiled at Lizzy. ‘She need have no fear. She can live out her days at Pemberley if she would prefer to, and make a nuisance of herself by interfering in the lives of her brothers and their eventual wives.’
‘What a charming picture you do paint, albeit with words rather than watercolours.’
She nodded towards the window, on the other side of which, close to the edge of the lake, Susie had set up her easel and was industriously capturing its likeness in all its glorious spring profusion. Or she had been until, just at that moment, Mr Porter, their steward’s deputy and Wickham’s illegitimate son, stopped by and looked over her shoulder. He said something to make Susie laugh, and lingered with her for some considerable time.
Will noticed and frowned, making Lizzy regret drawing his attention to their younger daughter’s activities. Will was concerned that Susie and Porter were becoming too comfortable with one another’s society. Lizzy had promised to ensure that nothing untoward happened and had warned Susie against becoming too familiar with a young man whom Will still had reservations about engaging.
As Porter lingered and Susie appeared in no hurry to send him on his way, Lizzy’s own anxieties increased. She would have to talk with Susie again. She knew what it cost her beloved husband to see daily reminders of Wickham in his son’s features. He desperately wanted to allay his guilt about Wickham’s death—even though he had nothing to feel guilty about—by giving his son the benefit of the doubt. But he would dismiss him without a second thought and without a character if he thought Susie was developing such an unsuitable attachment.
‘Anyway,’ she added hastily, ‘I am glad that Hillgate House is to be occupied again, albeit temporarily. It has been vacant for too long. Of course, we knew it had been taken. It’s the talk of the village, much as it was the talk of Meryton when a gentleman—’ Lizzy looked up at her husband with mischievously sparkling eyes, ‘a single gentleman of wealth and consequence, took Netherfield Park. We all knew Mr Bingley’s name long before he arrived or were introduced, but there has been great secrecy about the name of the new tenant of Hillgate House, and it is causing endless speculation.’
‘Presumably Tyrell would be bombarded with unwelcome attention if it was known too far in advance that he was coming to this part of the world.’
‘Derbyshire is not London and its residents are not sycophants. Local people will leave Mr Tyrell alone if he makes it known that he doesn’t wish to immerse himself in society. Do we know when he anticipates taking occupation?’
‘I would imagine that he will arrive today or tomorrow. This letter was sent two days ago and he was already on the road then.’
‘I recall seeing some of his father’s work in the Summer Exhibition at the Academy last year. He really is incredibly gifted. However, unlike you, I have not had the pleasure of making the gentleman’s acquaintance.’
‘Well, my
love, you shall certainly meet the son, and if his father should happen to venture north, I shall ensure that you are introduced to him as well.’
‘Do you think that likely? That Tyrell will come to Derbyshire, I mean.’
Will gave a slight shrug. ‘Until I know what brings his son this far north, I cannot possibly say. However, the young Tyrell claims to have been given my name by his father, who sends us his very best wishes, by the way.’
‘How very civilized.’ Lizzy frowned. ‘And all the more intriguing.’
Will laughed, took Lizzy’s hand and kissed the back of it. ‘Now that you and your sisters have run out of daughters to marry off—other than Susie of course,’ he said, ‘it is obvious that you are looking for alternative ways to amuse yourselves.’
‘Not in the least. I still have three unmarried sons—’
‘Who will not tolerate interference in their personal affairs.’
‘I do not interfere.’
Will laughed. ‘Of course you do not.’
‘I do worry about Spence though,’ Lizzy admitted, watching as her second son approached Susie and Porter and also examined Susie’s painting. At least his arrival had the desired effect from Lizzy’s perspective. She watched as Porter nodded a courteous farewell to Susie and took himself off. Spence, in shirtsleeves, threw himself down on the bank of the lake and leaned back on his elbows as he conducted a conversation with his sister. ‘He has not settled in the same way as Marc did since leaving Cambridge.’
‘Marc is my heir and will take full responsibility for Pemberley one day, so his future is clear.’
‘There is plenty for Spence to do as well.’ Lizzy wrinkled her brow. ‘Yet I sense a restlessness in him and fear…well, it is not how I hoped it would be, having my sons at home all the time. Luke will join them in a few weeks, once he finishes his final exams. At least Susie will be glad to have her twin at home and—’
‘And Luke will easily fit into our regime.’ Will rubbed his jaw. ‘Spence is a different proposition, I entirely agree. He is the most intelligent of our three sons and bores easily if his brain is not challenged.’
‘He is a natural leader, but Marc already occupies that position and there can’t be two generals at Pemberley.’
‘Spence is aware of that. He is probably trying not to seem as though he’s challenging his brother’s rightful position.’
‘Very likely,’ Lizzy sighed. ‘You need to find him something else to do, Will. He did well overseeing the cottage project last summer. He needs something else to occupy him that he can control from start to finish. A responsibility that won’t make Marc feel threatened or excluded.’ Lizzy gave a little laugh. ‘My father lamented the fact that he had so many daughters and no sons. Perhaps he was fortunate in that regard. Male self-esteem, I am fast discovering, is at least as delicate as feminine sensitivities. Besides, he was able to marry us all off and be done with responsibility for the lot of us. Sons are a different story.’
Will slid an arm around her shoulders and Lizzy rested her head against his lapels. ‘To put your mind at rest, my love, I will apply my mind to the problem of Spence night and day.’
ᴥᴥᴥ
‘It’s not bad, but you have got those reeds out of perspective,’ Spence said, nodding at Susie’s painting.
‘How would you know? You don’t have an artistic bone in your body.’
‘Perhaps not, but I have eyes in my head.’
‘Mr Porter said I showed great promise,’ Susie said huffily.
‘Of course he did.’ Spence leaned back on his elbows, turned his face up to the sunshine and closed his eyes. ‘He’s madly in love with you so cannot bear to tell you the truth. His compliments, however kindly meant, give you a false sense of your own abilities.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Spence opened one eye and watched his sister’s face flood with colour, confirming his suspicions. Damn, there would be hell to pay if he couldn’t bring her to her senses. He’d been holding back from interfering, hoping he’d got it wrong. ‘He is to be Papa’s next steward, but I am not so high in the instep that I’m unwilling to pass the time of day with a servant, if that’s what you are suggesting. Besides, he makes me laugh.’
‘Make sure that’s all he does.’
‘What are you implying, Spence?’ Susie dabbed brutally at her painting and emitted an unladylike curse when paint splattered in all directions.
‘Where did you learn such language?’ Spence asked, pretending to be shocked.
Susie rolled her eyes. ‘I have three brothers who seldom mind their language.’
Spence laughed. ‘Well, there is that.’ His laughter faded and was carried away on the gentle breeze. ‘Think about Porter’s situation, Susie, and don’t encourage his intimacy. I know he’s a handsome oaf, and charming and worldly and all the rest of it. I can quite see why you would enjoy his company but the old man won’t stand for it if he even suspects you are developing romantic notions.’
‘I am not!’
‘Good, because he will turf him out quick as you please if you give him reason to think otherwise, which will leave Porter with no means of making a living.’
‘You go drinking with him in Lambton. Don’t deny it, because you have been seen in the tavern together.’
‘I don’t harbour a secret desire to marry him,’ Spence said, chuckling.
‘Nor do I.’ Susie waggled her paintbrush at him. ‘Just because you’re supposed to be the brains of the family, Spencer Darcy, it doesn’t mean that you’re right about everything.’
‘Am I not?’ Spence looked so shocked that Susie burst out laughing. ‘All I’m saying, little sister…’ Spence closed his eyes again as he tried to think of a diplomatic way to warn Susie off. ‘Face the facts. It cost our father a deal of pride to employ the man, given his history with his father.’
‘I am well aware of that.’ Susie lost patience with her painting and threw her brush aside. ‘I’ve ruined it,’ she muttered in disgust. ‘Anyway, I wish I knew more about the dispute between Papa and Mr Wickham. Mr Porter’s grandfather was steward here when Papa was a boy, that much I do know.’
‘Our grandfather thought highly of Wickham and encouraged him and our father to play together as boys. Father had no brothers and our aunt Georgie was ten years younger than him, so Wickham made for a convenient playmate.’
‘I feel very sorry for Papa. It must have been lonely for him. Tiresome as you and the rest of my brothers often are, I would not be without you.’
‘Wickham got ideas above his station because he was given so much leeway here,’ Spence said, fixing his sister with a significant look. ‘It turned out badly for all concerned. Wickham married our aunt Lydia but only after they had eloped together.’
‘We all know that. It seems Wickham’s true purpose was to evade his debts, not to actually marry our aunt.’ Susie fell into momentary contemplation. ‘I wonder what persuaded him to do so.’
‘I’m told he had to be bribed to do the right thing by her.’
Susie’s eyes came alight with interest. ‘I have heard such rumours, but was never sure if they were true.’
‘Father told Marc and me some, but I suspect not all, of the particulars. Aunt Lydia was only sixteen at the time and if Wickham was even half as convincing as Porter is then I don’t suppose she could be blamed for falling for his charm.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Susie tilted her head in a speculative manner. ‘You’re worried, I suppose, that Mr Porter is still bent upon revenge and wants to use me to obtain it.’
‘The idea has crossed my mind.’
‘I am not attractive enough to interest him in my own right, I suppose,’ Susie said, turning away from Spence.
‘Don’t get in a taking, little sister. That’s not what I meant, and well you know it. You are an heiress, and fortune hunters abound, to say nothing of those bent upon revenge. I would be lacking in my brotherly duties if I did not alert you to the fact.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Besides, better coming from me than Father.’
Susie shuddered. ‘That’s true, although I haven’t actually done anything to warrant a scolding.’
‘Well anyway, I can tell you that Porter’s mother filled his head with tales of how badly she, and as a consequence he, had been treated by the Darcys. Porter claims to know better now, and I’d like to believe he’s sincere.’ Spence exhaled slowly. ‘He’s not boneheaded and must see the advantages for himself if he allies himself with our family instead of fighting against us. But still, his father, a father whom he never knew, did die whilst trying to flee Pemberley on our uncle Sanford’s wild stallion.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know that. Do tell me more.’
Spence shrugged. ‘I don’t know much more, other than that our father feels responsible for his death, even though he didn’t cause it. He and our uncle witnessed his fall from that horse; that much I do know, and tried to save Wickham. But he was past saving.’
‘Well,’ Susie said, collecting up her painting equipment, ‘that explains a great deal. Thank you for telling me, Spence. No one ever tells me anything the slightest bit salacious about our family history and so I am reduced to listening to servants’ gossip. Not that they ever gossip about Mr Wickham. In fact that are unusually tight-lipped on the subject.’
‘Simpson’s orders, no doubt.’ Spence was referring to the man who had been butler at Pemberley since before Spence had been born and was on the point of retirement. ‘Besides, I doubt if there are many others still in service who were here at the time.’
‘Bella was always good at finding these things out, but she did not always confide in me.’
‘I tell you for your own good,’ Spence said, pushing himself to his feet and folding Susie’s easel for her. They walked towards the house together, Spence carrying all of her things. ‘I like Porter and want to think the best of him. Even so, one cannot overlook his past transgressions. He has not always behaved within the law.’
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