The Darcys of Pemberley

by Shannon Winslow

  Lady Catherine looked dubious but she said, “Of course, I should be glad to hear you sing, Mrs. Darcy … some time or other.”

  At this point, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh arrived and were announced to those already gathered in the drawing room. After a full round of greetings, Lady Catherine required a detailed report of their mission on Bond Street. Anne looked fatigued and quite unequal to the task, so Fitzwilliam, who remained attentively by her side, answered her mother’s questions for them both.

  Over light refreshments, the conversation continued to be dominated by her ladyship, which the others took as a matter of course. As usual, she had opinions about everything from the quality of cucumbers available in the marketplace to the price of coal, and she hesitated not to share them. On this occasion, though, she managed to avoid anything that savored of criticism against Mrs. Darcy, her relations, and her housekeeping. Afterward, she thanked her hostess for receiving her and declared that, “regrettably,” she and her party must now take their leave.

  Elizabeth accepted with philosophy the disappointment of Lady Catherine’s early departure. The visit had been necessary, and in some respects gratifying, but she had no desire to prolong the experience. If it smoothed the way for more congenial family relations in future, the exercise had served its purpose.

  Whilst Darcy escorted their guests to the waiting carriage, Elizabeth had a few private words with Georgiana. “I was afraid this visit might disturb you, my dear – seeing Anne and Fitzwilliam together. I am relieved to find that you bear it with so much serenity.”

  “I wish I could say that perfect peace is what I feel, but it is all a guise, Elizabeth. I have told myself I must get accustomed to seeing them together and thinking of them as a married couple, which they very shortly will be. The sooner I accept that fact, the sooner I can seriously consider other possibilities for myself.”

  “I admire your courage and your determination. As time passes, it will become more comfortable. I hope that someday you shall once again find only pleasure in seeing both your cousins.” Elizabeth gave her sister’s hand an affectionate squeeze as Darcy reentered.

  Georgiana excused herself to return to her one true consolation: her music. She was soon playing with much feeling, liberating the emotions she had restrained whilst their guests were present. Elizabeth’s strong sentiments – on behalf of her sister and for herself – found no such ready release. Since she had not the ability to pour them into music or any other art, she relied on the relief of conversation. Even in this, however, she was obliged to be guarded for the sake of another.

  “I must confess, I am glad to have that over,” she said to her husband.

  “Was it difficult for you then, Lizzy? Your manners and countenance never betrayed you; you appeared confidently at ease throughout the whole of it. I am convinced that even Lady Catherine could not fault you on any point, though she may be the most fastidious person we know.”

  “This is high praise indeed, Darcy. And were you just as pleased with your aunt’s behavior? Has she met all your conditions to be accepted back into the family fold?”

  “It was gratifying to see her pay the respect long overdue to you. Although I am not so naive as to believe that her deference is sincere, I have to admit she made a real effort to please. Yes, I am satisfied.”

  “Then may we accept her invitation to visit Rosings?”

  “If you wish it. I am surprised, though, that you should want to revisit the place. As the scene of your cousin’s untimely death and the grievous ill-usage you suffered yourself, Hunsford must harbor unpleasant memories for you. To this day, I cannot think of my own conduct there without abhorrence.”

  “No specter of Mr. Collins haunts me, I assure you, and we have forgiven your aunt, have we not? As for you, Mr. Darcy, I remember only what I wish to remember. I remember we became better acquainted as we met very often at Rosings, and I remember that you first declared your love for me at Hunsford parsonage. How can any of this be unpleasant? I only ask that you be similarly selective in your recollection of my behavior. Then I think we may visit again without fear of recriminations.”

  “So, we go to Rosings with only pleasant thoughts and happy memories. An elegant solution, Lizzy. At any rate, I shall be glad for the chance to offer Fitzwilliam encouragement. He seemed rather low today.”

  “I suppose it is just what he said in his letter – concern for Anne and the toll taken on her by preparations for their wedding. I daresay her constitution still cannot be considered strong, and she certainly looked to be suffering some affliction of body or soul.”

  “Blast!” Darcy expostulated, driving the fist of one hand into the palm of the other. “It is this infernal arranged marriage; that is the source of the trouble.”

  “We have been through this again and again, my love. Anne is a sweet girl, and I believe the colonel is genuinely fond of her. They may do very well together. We must accept their decision regardless, and hope for the best.”

  “So I have been endeavoring to do … without success.”

  Darcy and Elizabeth settled between them that they would travel to Hunsford on Monday. Elizabeth made a point of speaking to Georgiana about the plan as soon as she had a moment alone with her.

  “What do you think?” she asked. “Can you face such a visit, or will it be too much to endure? I could contrive some excuse for you if you think it best.”

  “That will not be necessary. Their calling today has taught me to trust my own strength. No, I will go. My aunt wishes it, and I should like to see Rosings again.”

  Chapter 20

  Rosings Park

  The pace of social activity not slackening in the least, the Darcys kept well occupied. They attended another ball that evening and a dinner party at the Applewhites’ home the next. Then Sunday, after church, the whole afternoon was spent in the agreeable company of the Gardiners. In this way the days passed quickly, and it was soon time for their visit to Hunsford.

  When they arrived at Rosings, Colonel Fitzwilliam met and welcomed them cheerfully, helping the ladies from the carriage. “I am so delighted that you are come,” he said. “Rosings Park may be admired for its manicured lawns and generous glazing, but I believe it is only truly exceptional when graced by beautiful women. Darcy, I thank you for bringing them.”

  The elegant compliment had the desired effect. Elizabeth and Georgiana were immediately disposed to think the colonel more than usually charming.

  Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes heavenward. “Shameless flatterer,” he muttered, shaking his cousin’s hand. “Still, I am glad to find you in good spirits today, Fitzwilliam. I suppose we owe it to the fact that your wedding is now only a few days off.”

  “What? Oh, yes, of course, the wedding,” he agreed, nodding and smiling. “How fortuitous that you have come today, for I think I can promise that Rosings will prove far and away more entertaining than you ordinarily find it. Come in! Come in! Anne and her ladyship will be very glad to see you.”

  They surmounted the front stairs of the imposing structure and were shown into the oversized drawing room. There they found the principal residents – Lady Catherine and Miss Anne de Bourgh – and Mrs. Jenkinson, a woman long employed as Anne’s companion. Lady Catherine received her guests with generous condescension, and everybody acknowledged everybody else in proper form.

  Despite her assurances to her husband, Elizabeth found that she could not observe the scene without thoughts of the past. She was struck more forcibly than she would have expected by the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Collins, without whose company she had never been in this house before. It would be a different sort of visit without Mr. Collins’s obsequious attentions to her ladyship and his rapturous praise for the splendors of Rosings Park.

  Otherwise, things appeared just as Elizabeth remembered; the expensive furnishings were arranged exactly as before, and the three women even seated themselves in the same places as they used to do. Lady Catherine sat in her formal, high-
backed chair, its style and situation serving to accentuate her position of authority. Her chin worn high, she sited down her aquiline nose as her small court assembled about her.

  Elizabeth noticed at once that Anne was far more animated than she had been only a few days earlier in town. Her eyes were bright and alert, and her good color had returned. In fact, she looked a little flushed.

  “How was your drive from town, Darcy?” asked her ladyship, after they were all settled.

  “Quite tolerable. The roads were dry,” he answered.

  “I understand that you brought Mrs. Collins with you from Derbyshire.”

  “Yes, your ladyship,” said Elizabeth. “She was good enough to accompany us as far as Hertfordshire. She is visiting her family there and will come into London on Thursday so that she may drive down with us for the wedding on Friday.”

  “It was very charitable of you to convey her so far,” continued her ladyship. “I doubt that she could have afforded such a journey otherwise, with her modest resources. I shall be glad to see her again. She and Mr. Collins always suited me so much better than the new rector and his wife. I find Mr. and Mrs. Chesterfield entirely too independent for persons in their situation. Why, only last week I discovered that they have made changes to the parsonage – removing shelves from the closets and rearranging the furniture – all without my permission. And Mrs. Chesterfield has recklessly converted some of the garden from the growing of vegetables to the purpose of raising flowers! I would have been glad to advise her against such foolishness if she had had the courtesy to consult me, but neither of them can be troubled to call at Rosings above once a week. I am quite put out by the way Mr. Chesterfield neglects his duty.”

  “He is still new to the position, Aunt. Perhaps he does not yet understand what is expected of him and of his wife,” suggested Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “How does Mr. Chesterfield do at his other responsibilities?” asked Elizabeth. “Does he have more aptitude for preaching than he does for obeisance, perhaps?”

  “I suppose he does. I have no complaint against his sermons; they always seem correct and well-considered,” Lady Catherine conceded.

  “He also spends a great deal of time visiting the poor and infirmed,” said Miss de Bourgh in the clergyman’s defense. “I have heard good reports of that sort from many people in the parish, and Dr. Essex says that he often encounters Mr. Chesterfield as he makes his rounds among the sick.”

  “From what you say, Anne, I am inclined to think well of the man,” said Mr. Darcy, “despite his shortcomings,” he added dryly.

  “He sounds a lot like our good Mr. Thornton,” offered Georgiana.

  Apprehending that her audience was not entirely sympathetic to her grievances, Lady Catherine changed the subject. “Mrs. Darcy, when I saw you lately in London, you expressed an interest in making the acquaintance of Dr. Essex. I am pleased to say that he will be returning from town this very day. He sent word that we should expect him by dinner if not before. So, you may have the pleasure of meeting him after all … if you would care to stay.”

  “Yes, do stay,” encouraged Fitzwilliam. “It will certainly be worth your while.”

  As the Darcys had no very pressing engagements in town, they consented to remain at Rosings.

  When the conversation waned, Lady Catherine called for some music. Elizabeth and Georgiana, fully prepared for the request, passed through the wide archway into the adjoining room to comply. Georgiana could not resist the opportunity to play a fine instrument. She directly took her place at the pianoforte, which, true to her ladyship’s boast, was capital indeed. Elizabeth had no intention of playing, but she did not mind singing with her sister-in-law’s accompaniment.

  They began with Voi Che Sapete, an aria in Italian from The Marriage of Figaro by Mozart. Being one of Darcy’s favorites, it captured his full interest. Colonel Fitzwilliam was likewise entranced. Lady Catherine, who by her own profession was a very great appreciator of music, concentrated all her attention on the performance for at least two minutes before remembering something important she needed to discuss with Mrs. Jenkinson. This she did not scruple to do without delay, despite the difficulty of making herself heard above the song. Mrs. Jenkinson had no choice but to listen to her ladyship as she talked on. The others, however, one by one, made their way out of the conversation circle and into the music room, constituting a small but appreciative audience for Elizabeth and Georgiana’s efforts.

  Despite her continued inattentiveness throughout the three songs that followed, Lady Catherine felt fully capable of rendering an authoritative judgment as to the quality of the performances. She praised Miss Darcy’s playing without hesitation or parsimony. For Elizabeth, her compliments were more tempered.

  “As for your singing, Mrs. Darcy, I must allow that it is not altogether lacking in value. I would go so far as to say that you possess a fine, natural voice. Clearly, though, that potential was never properly developed. Use of the voice is like the playing of any other instrument. One must be continuously schooled in it from an early age under the guidance of an expert. No true excellence can reasonably be looked for otherwise. Your parents should have engaged a master for you. Then, with faithful practice, you might have been a true proficient.”

  After hearing this speech, Mr. Darcy declared himself to be in grave need of fresh air. His wife and sister readily accepted his invitation to accompany him in a turn through the gardens before dinner. Fitzwilliam stood to join them, and Anne was ultimately persuaded as well. Mrs. Jenkinson, who would not be joining them for dinner, took leave and retired to her own apartment for the evening.

  When Elizabeth had visited Hunsford before, she had taken great pleasure in long solitary walks about the extensive grounds of Rosings Park. This day’s tour would be neither solitary nor lengthy, however. In consideration of the lateness of the hour and of the sky, which threatened rain, they were obliged to stay close to the house. They strolled through the formal gardens at a leisurely pace, Darcy escorting his wife and sister, and Anne on Fitzwilliam’s arm. No one appeared in any hurry to return to the confines of the drawing room.

  Before long, their walk was interrupted by the arrival of a gig, which Anne readily identified as belonging to the expected Dr. Essex. The good physician climbed down from his modest equipage, and, upon seeing the group, made his way in their direction. His long strides brought him swiftly to them, whereupon he was immediately introduced. A man of roughly thirty, Dr. Essex carried himself well and spoke with the intelligence and manners of a gentleman, making a very good impression on the Darcys, who were prepared to be pleased by what they already knew of him.

  “You are a miracle worker, sir,” said Darcy after the first flush of civilities. “I have long wished to make the acquaintance of the man responsible for my cousin’s transformation.”

  “I was only too glad to help. I am sure my predecessor did his best, but it is high time medicine advanced beyond the dark ages. Patients like your cousin, Mr. Darcy, deserve all the benefits modern science has to offer.” Dr. Essex then turned his attention to Anne. “I hope you are feeling especially well and strong on this particular day, Miss de Bourgh.”

  “I am well. Whether I am strong enough or not, we shall soon discover, shan’t we? But, now you are come, I feel up to any challenge.”

  “And you have a surprising number of companions here to lend you their support,” he encouraged.

  “Aye. They are loyal friends, and I am grateful to have them with me, especially today.”

  This enigmatic exchange raised interest and eyebrows. Fitzwilliam, however – the only one present who could have reasonably inquired about its meaning – apparently suffered from a deplorable lack of curiosity. His only question was if everybody was ready to go inside, now that Dr. Essex had arrived. He released Anne to the care of her physician and offered his now-vacant arm to Georgiana, who had no choice but to take it. The six of them thus returned to the house where they were shown in to dinner fo
rthwith.

  Before they sat down, Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy and Elizabeth with merriment in his eyes and whispered, “I promised that the day would not fail to entertain. Well, my friends, the fun is about to begin.”

  Chapter 21

  Showdown

  The dinner was very fine indeed – the best food served on expensive china by an extravagant number of liveried servants. However, since the guests had all dined at Rosings before, the ostentatious display failed to impress them so much as it otherwise might have done.

  Despite Colonel Fitzwilliam’s hint about some excitement in the offing, at first, nothing out of the ordinary appeared. The soup was consumed without incident, followed by the fish course, which also passed uneventfully. All parties steadfastly maintained polite conversation throughout. The only clue that the peace would not last could be found in Anne’s tense expression and lack of appetite.

  Lady Catherine ate little herself, finding the food less tempting than the singular opportunity of talking to people who could not talk back by virtue of their mouths being otherwise engaged. When she did at last allow herself a brief intermission to sample the roasted pheasant, her daughter claimed the advantage.

  Dr. Essex gave Anne a nod and a fortifying look across the table.

  “Mama, I have something important to tell you,” she said with resolve.

  It was not so much the rather ordinary words as the bold tenor of her voice that claimed her mother’s immediate interest. Her ladyship was unaccustomed to anybody speaking so firmly to her, least of all her daughter.

  Lady Catherine matched her daughter’s strong tone and added a measure of practiced intimidation to it. “What did you say, Anne?”

  Anne instinctively cringed at the voice of authority that had heretofore so thoroughly dominated her life. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, she set her jaw, stood, faced her mother, and repeated her declaration. “I said I have something important to tell you.”