Preserving Pemberley

by Carrie Mollenkopf

  “A successful steam driven carriage! But how? That sort of construction required the latest technological advances. Darcy and Georgiana are hardly accustomed to physical labor, let alone engineering! They have been lying to me for years!”

  Such was his irritation; Henry chose to forget that he had been practically estranged from the Darcy family until recently. The childhood memories of never been as good as Fitzwilliam Darcy had simmered for years, fueled by his father’s constant comparison. Even in death, Henry could hear old Malcolm Wainright’s criticisms. As he prepared to loft yet another object, Henry suddenly halted in his destruction. It was then that he realized where he had seen the driver of the carriage before.

  “Richard Trevithick! Of course! How stupid of me! They must simply be funding one of his schemes. That strange young man must be one of his apprentices. Well, I can surely do better than that old man, especially when the foundations have already been made. After all, I am the one who actually completed my studies, not Darcy.”

  Henry strode out of his workshop, ignoring the mess made by his fit of anger. He needed to plan his next actions carefully to avoid discovery.

  “I just need an hour undisturbed with their machine… then I can make my own… only much better. People will pay hundreds to have one of my carriages. There will be no need to marry at all, but I shall use Georgiana to achieve it all,” He muttered, allowing greed to cloud his judgement.

  ~31~

  If Elizabeth Darcy wondered as to the actions of those left behind, she gave no sign. The day’s carriage ride to Longbourn had filled her mind with turmoil of such intensity to only match the rolling of her stomach. For the past few weeks, she had held her suspicions that she was carrying a child, but did not want to speak, should she be mistaken. Knowing that Darcy would be immensely pleased, Elizabeth also knew that he would be overbearingly cautious about her condition. She was not a woman to be put to bed for the next seven months. As a person who greatly enjoyed exercise and the out of doors, the prospect of being cooped up to mollify a worried spouse was miserable. He would have probably insisted that they not even go to Longbourn, but from the contents of Jane’s letter, trouble of great magnitude was already brewing. Sighing heavily, Elizabeth looked at her husband. Darcy had fallen asleep to the rocking of the carriage. A stray lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, but she denied herself the desire to brush it away.

  “Sleep while you can, heaven knows there will be precious little of that once we arrive."

  As if hearing her suggestion, Darcy shifted slightly and continued to breathe the heavy deep draughts of sleep. He continued to do so until they arrived, and it was a good thing for they were not the only people coming to the distress of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn. Two carriages bearing military insignia were parked with uniformed drivers holding their charges as they stomped their hooves. One carriage, more of a large box, had great iron bars affixed to a rear door.

  “For prisoners…” Elizabeth muttered. The Darcy carriage, stopping alongside, was met by Elizabeth’s younger sister Kitty. Breathless with excitement, Katherine Bennet did not appear to be the least bit worried about any sort of scandal. Her face was flushed, but a twinkle in her eye gave away her amusement.

  “Oh Lizzie! Dear brother Darcy! I am so pleased that you are here. Mama is beside herself, ranting incoherently and Papa has shut himself inside the library with the military police and brother Wickham. I tried to listen through the door, but all is in hushed voices. I am dying to know what they will do with him! It will be a grand scandal won’t it?”

  “I dearly hope not!” Darcy replied as he helped his wife down. Elizabeth’s face had taken an unnatural paleness that he did not like. She had been unusually silent the entire journey, but he knew she was worried.

  “In the library you say?”

  “Yes, the officers arrived nearly an hour ago. It was quite a fuss. Wickham actually tried to escape, but stupid Lydia told them where he was and then… well, it was all chains and arrests. Mama went into one of her fits and pretended to faint, but I knew better. All it did was force me and Jane to take her above. By then, Lydia had locked herself in her chamber. The library has been closed ever since. A very handsome soldier is standing guard outside, but he won’t even smile at me… I suppose they will allow you…”

  Darcy raised a hand to still her ramblings. He had forgotten how talkative Elizabeth’s sisters were, but it did provide information and forewarning.

  “They will not dare deny me an audience, but I have no sway in military matters. Take Elizabeth to your mother, but stay above until someone sends for you.”

  “Come Lizzie, it is quite entertaining. Lydia keeps insisting that Wickham is innocent, but I doubt it. That’s what she gets for running off with him!”

  Darcy did not reply, but escorted the women inside before speaking with the guard and knocking on the closed library door. Announcing his presence, he was permitted entry, but the ladies were excluded. Only receiving the briefest glance inside, Elizabeth observed heavy iron manacles on the wrists of her brother-in-law who stood between two guards. Her father, showing his age in his distress, sat across from Darcy’s own cousin, glaring at Wickham. Colonel Fitzwilliam had been assigned to the proceedings, but as he was distantly connected to the accused, he had recused himself in favor of another. This officer, a man named Bradford, had served nearly thirty years in the army and wore the rank of brigadier general. His judgement was not to be questioned, simply obeyed. A mild relief at the sight of one familiar face filled Elizabeth as she accepted her exclusion. Her place was unfortunately with her mother and sisters. Steeling for the onslaught of hysterical tears, Elizabeth left her husband and followed Kitty to her mother’s chamber. It was going to be an ordeal for them all.

  *****

  Darcy, taking the only remaining empty chair, simply nodded to the gentlemen present and remained silent. He would much rather have stayed at Pemberley, but it was clearly apparent that George Wickham had once again managed to cause immense trouble.

  “I shall repeat the charges for the benefit of our new arrival, bear in mind, opinions rendered by civilians have no bearing on the outcome,” General Bradford offered with a polite terseness that suggested he resented Darcy’s presence.

  “Of course, this is a military matter. I am merely here in support of the Bennets,” Darcy replied. And, it was the truth. He had no intentions of providing any assistance whatsoever to George Wickham.

  “Hmmm. Well then, as I was saying… George Wickham, former lieutenant in His Majesty’s Regulars is accused of dereliction of duty, conduct unbecoming of an officer and desertion. He will be remanded into custody for a hearing of evidence at which time his sentencing will be determined. As I have already explained to Mr. Bennet, his daughter will have no contact with the prisoner, but neither will she be held liable for his actions. However, claims of damage may be assessed to Mr. Wickham’s estate. This will be a private hearing, with no public access, save for any legal counsel engaged by the accused and two persons that may speak on his behalf. I leave those choices to Mr. Wickham. You will now have a few minutes to speak privately with the prisoner. We shall be waiting in the hall.”

  Darcy and Elizabeth’s father waited calmly until the latch clicked behind the officers before venting their opinions, but little went unheard outside the chamber. It was only years of good breeding and a lack of desire to soil his hands that kept Darcy from striking the smug man before him.

  “What have you to say for yourself? I suppose a complete denial?” Darcy demanded.

  “Actually no, I am guilty as charged…on all accounts…except for the girl. I never touched her, not that she didn’t try. No doubt got herself into trouble and looked to blame anyone convenient. But believe what you will, I hardly expect any tears to be shed over me,” Wickham replied with a smirk.

  Mr. Bennet, tired from the weeks Wickham had spent disrupting his household, tired from the disgrace that had been caused, and tired f
rom simply listening to Lydia and his wife’s high-pitched wails, slumped heavily in his chair.

  “Well, I hope you are pleased with having obtained the complete ruin of my entire family. Whatever happens to you, it is well deserved. I shall not lift a finger or spend one farthing to your defense. Lydia is a stupid girl, in time, she will forget you and the world will forget her association with you. I however, may not live long enough to enjoy it.”

  “Really? Dear Papa and Darcy are not willing to hide a scandal? My, my, the world has indeed changed. Imagine the taint upon your remaining daughters… and sweet Georgiana… who will marry them now?” Wickham taunted and thrust his chained wrists forward so they rattled.

  “Not your concern, nor are you mine…I believe we are finished here. Father Bennet? Would you care to accompany me to the parlor? I have brought a rather fine brandy on which I would like your opinion.”

  “That would please me greatly. I have found today’s events rather tiresome and require refreshment.”

  Darcy opened the door, allowing the soldiers inside. The red-coated officers had fully expected the traditional closing of ranks around one’s own when dealing with the landed class. The change in behavior was both amusing and a relief. There would be no long, drawn out trial, no crying witnesses, and most of all, no use of old money to bribe a criminal’s way to freedom.

  “He is all yours, gentlemen. We shall be having no further contact. Whomever Mr. Wickham desires as counsel or character reference are not to be found here.”

  “Very good sir, we shall take him…” General Bradford agreed, but paused before ordering Wickham’s removal.

  “Ah… due to the prisoner being married to your daughter, we will allow her a moment to say her goodbyes.”

  “That will not be necessary. As of this moment, I do not consider my daughter married to anyone, least of all him. We shall see to the legal process of dissolution for her.”

  “As you see fit. Consider the matter finished in regard to your family.”

  ~32~

  In comparison, Darcy’s level of stress in dealing with the Bennet family paled to that of his wife. Elizabeth, upon arrival in Mrs. Bennet’s bedchamber, bore the brunt of her mother’s hysterics. Jane, having spent the past hours bringing an array of tisanes and possets to calm her mother, now pleaded silently for relief.

  “Dear Jane, it is long past time that you returned to your husband. There is nothing more to be done here, I shall see to Mama.”

  Having no time to reconnect their deep affection for one another, Jane promised to return to Longbourn on the morrow, but left as quickly as possible. In truth, Jane Bingley had wished that her new home was at a greater distance than three miles from Longbourn. The close proximity was quickly turning into a constant call for attention by her mother. Elizabeth’s face, bore a mask of hardness not seen before, causing Jane to be slightly frightened of her sister. Even Kitty, in her desire to not miss a single dramatic event, took her leave.

  “I shall look in on Lydia,” Kitty said, but rather than seek her sister’s chamber, the younger Bennet strategically perched on the stair landing. From that vantage point, she could see and hear all that transpired in the hall… without being seen.

  Now alone with her second daughter, Mrs. Bennet dropped a pretense of illness. Her tears, instantly dried and her wails of persecution ceased. Instead, her voice, taking on a low and caustic tone, issued harsh orders to Elizabeth.

  “I insist you tell that husband of yours to spare no expense in seeing to dear Wickham’s release. Your uncle Gardiner cannot handle this, a London barrister must be engaged….and Wickham must not be seen in shackles. Lady Lucas will surely see the prisoner wagon going past her house. I shall have to create some sort of elaborate story to tell her…. Lizzie! Are you listening?”

  “Indeed, I am Mama.” Elisabeth replied calmly and took the chair so recently vacated by Jane. A small embroidery hoop lay nearby, the threads forming an incomplete rose pattern. Idly poking the needle through the linen, Elizabeth wished she could poke some sense into her mother.

  “Poor Lydia and Wickham must be sent away of course. I suppose ten or twenty thousand pounds should do them nicely. You must see to it immediately…what are you doing with that thing? There is much to be done if Lydia and Wickham are to be saved! No time for stitchery!”

  Elizabeth did not respond, but kept forcing the needle in steady repeated motions feeling the frustration build up inside. Nothing would ever change when it came to her mother’s refusal to see the foolishness of her youngest child. However, this time there would be no Mr. Darcy to hide Wickham’s transgressions. Let the gossips have their day, Lydia’s ruin at the hands of her husband may taint them all, but no more time or money would be spent upon them. Her mother continued to ramble, but all fell upon deaf ears as Elizabeth took her thoughts to another place. It would have been better had they simply remained at Pemberley. After all, it was not as if her parents had ever solicited her presence. It was always Jane that wrote the necessary letters, and Elizabeth that did the cleaning up. Now, as she ignored Mrs. Bennet’s schemes of Lydia’s future, Elizabeth smiled to herself, but the change in her expression led to her mother believing in an acceptance of her plans.

  “Lizzie! There is no time to waste, no go to that husband of yours and demand he do something. He has plenty of money.”

  Exasperated, Elizabeth put down the embroidery and stood, but it was not to the chamber door that she went. Instead, Elizabeth Bennet Darcy drew herself closer to where her mother lay in repose, waving a handkerchief madly. Leaning down, as if to bestow a chaste kiss upon a beloved parent’s cheek, Elizabeth placed her hands on either side of her mother’s face, turning the elder woman’s attentions completely upon her own countenance.

  “Listen to me carefully Mama, for I will only say this once.”

  “Wha…whatever are you doing?”

  “Shut up. It is my turn to speak…. My husband is finished with wasting money hiding the transgressions of George Wickham. Do you even know what it cost to purchase his commission? How many thousands of pounds were required to settle his gambling debts? How many favors were requested to arrange Lydia’s wedding? No! Of course, you don’t. You only care about yourself. Well let me tell you Mama, it was nearly twenty thousand! That is more than Papa earns in ten years! Every misery that Wickham suffers is of his own doing, and that includes Lydia. Pemberley is not to be drained of its resources to save a wastrel. Darcy and I have a great responsibility to hundreds of people that work hard every day. When I think of what they may have done without to cater to the demands of a spoiled child, it sickens me. It is to the residents of Pemberley that I must care for, not a stupid girl who cares only for herself. Am I understood?”

  Mrs. Bennet nodded slowly, but decades of selfishness could not be discarded. The moment Elizabeth removed her hands, the hysterics began. Mrs. Bennet’s shouts were of such a volume as to draw the appearance of all who was in hearing. Within minutes, not only did her father and husband stand in the chamber door, but behind, a smirking Kitty and white-faced Lydia Wickham who began crying in self-pity.

  “Have done woman!” Mr. Bennet shouted above his wife’s cries but Mrs. Bennet continued to wail. Her eyes held a slight sparkle that could not be denied. Tantrums had always been the route to success, but no longer. Reaching out, Mr. Bennet slapped her face, leaving a red mark where his open palm landed.

  “I never though I would see the day that I would strike a lady, but you madam, have pushed me past reason. Now be silent or I shall bind your mouth!”

  By now, Elizabeth was exhausted from the antics and sank heavily into the chair so recently vacated. She was drained physically and mentally from the encounter, but it was a deed long past it’s time. Darcy, seeing her distress, placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, but said nothing. This was Mr. Bennet’s home and family; it was his place to determine a course of action.

  “Now, if everyone has regained their senses, I suggest we r
epair to the sitting room and discuss what is to be done. But… there will be no more bouts of crying or shouting so all of the servants can carry tales. Am I understood?”

  A single nod, accompanied by sniffles as Mrs. Bennet sought to repress her tears, did little to quell those of Lydia who now feigned a swoon, dropping dramatically to the floor. However, it was of little effect, her father simply stepped over the crumpled form as he exited.

  “Ten minutes to repair yourselves, but not a second more. My patience is in very short supply.”

  ~33~

  Instead of ten minutes, the present members of the Bennet family did not meet until over an hour later. However, Mr. Bennet hardly noticed as he spent the time in quiet contemplation, for he had made his decisions without them. While his wife had done her best to draw all possible attention to herself, he had shared another matter with his son-in-law.

  “While I do thank you for the offer, it is one I must decline. As long as my Lydia has her way, she will continue to cause as much trouble as possible. And, despite whatever scandal Wickham will bring upon us, if it results in his absence, I for one, am glad of it.”

  Unbeknownst to the rest of the family, Mr. Bennet had recently received a letter from his sister Matilda. A widow of nearly ten years his senior, Matilda Wilkerson had lived a life of a recluse on the moorlands of Devon. Now getting on in years, she had written to beg the comfort of companionship of one of her nieces. Of who was chosen, she had not been particular, only that they be willing to remain until death claimed her. A hard and stern woman, Mattie would not be an easy person to please. Her home was austere to the brink of Spartan, more suitable to an Army barracks. Positioned some miles out on the moorland, Greywinds was far from any sort of entertainments. To some, this request would be the official makings of a spinster, bordering on imprisonment, but it was not without its benefit. Having a fortune of some merit, Mrs. Wilkerson made it clear that she would name the designated girl her heir. Originally, Mr. Bennet had thought to speak with Mary about the offer, but now, it was clearly the perfect place for Lydia. While he waited for the others to gather, this plan was presented to Elizabeth. Upon her arrival, Mr. Bennet had noticed the dark circles beneath his favorite child’s eyes and the slight fullness to her form. As a man practiced with being around those expecting a child, he had smiled to himself. A grandchild would be a pleasant change. A small being upon which he could bestow attention without censure or obligation. The presumption of Elizabeth’s state had only furthered to cement the decision. However, tempting it would be to take assistance from Darcy, it would not happen. Having George Wickham steal from him and strangers was one thing, taking from the future of his grandchild was another. Removing Matilda’s letter from his breast pocket, he read it once more before the arrival of his wife and younger daughters. It was indeed perfect. Watching as they filed in, he noted the powdered faces and well-groomed coiffures. They had managed quite nicely to make repairs once realizing the futility of tears. Waiting until they were seated, Mr. Bennet leisurely paced the chamber before clearing his throat for their attention.