Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley
Chapter 1: The Remarkable Mr. Graham
Chapter 2: An Extraordinarily Popular Guest
Chapter 3: A Most Unpleasant Surprise
Chapter 4: A Heated Argument
Chapter 5: Elizabeth Fixes upon a Lofty Goal
Chapter 6: A Brother’s Visit
Chapter 7: A Mother’s Bitter Remembrances
Chapter 8: A Suspicion of Doom
Chapter 9: An Enlightening Picnic
Chapter 10: A Rousing Song
Chapter 11: Lady Catherine’s Story
Chapter 12: Time Runs Out
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Book Club Questions
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY AT PEMBERLEY
Copyright © 2019 by Kelly Miller
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any format whatsoever. For information: P.O. Box 34, Oysterville WA 98641
ISBN: 978-1-68131-032-9
Cover design by Janet Taylor
Graphic layout by Ellen Pickels
Dedication
To my mom and Tim, my earliest readers who, with straight faces, claimed to enjoy the result of my first-ever attempt at writing a novel
And to my daughter Alexa, a constant source of inspiration and wonder
A note on the spelling and language in
Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley
In order to bring authenticity to the time frame and setting of this story, the Regency era in England, an effort was made to avoid the use of any phrases, words, or word usages that would not have been in use in 1815 England. Also, British English spellings were utilized even though the author’s own familiarity is with American English. Since British English spelling changes took place after the American Revolution, some words may look misspelled to American readers (colour, honour, travelled, lustre), while others may look misspelled to modern British readers (apologize, realize).
Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley
“I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child, I was taught what was right; but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing—to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”
—Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 58
Chapter 1: The Remarkable Mr. Graham
Wednesday, September 13, 1815
The view afforded by the precipice not three feet from Fitzwilliam Darcy was vast and daunting to most, but the gentleman spared nary a glance at the stupendous prospect of the limestone ravine below. He had taken this trail hundreds of times before, as had Regal, his majestic, black, Arabian stallion.
“I have never seen a mare quite like her. She is the prettiest horse I have ever seen. Her coat is the colour of polished copper, and I could not find even one fault in her conformation. The Welsh pony is calm, wise, and gentle—ideal for Bennet.”
Regal flicked his ears back now and again as Darcy continued to expound in great detail on the presents he had purchased for his wife and son. Although considered by most a laconic sort, Darcy had discovered as a child that talking to horses benefited both parties: the sound of his voice calmed the horses, and he was more comfortable talking with them than with people. He leaned forward in the saddle as he spoke, his mind focused upon his discourse. In listing for Regal the virtues of the notable equine specimens scheduled for delivery from the neighbouring estate, he reaffirmed in his own mind that he had chosen well.
A cutting gust interrupted his thoughts with a pervasive discomfort, prompting him to raise the collar of his greatcoat and affirming his choice to take this particular route; the narrow, winding trail was a faster route to Pemberley than the road.
The plans that had been made to surprise his wife dominated his mind. Her lovely countenance would be luminous and joyful when she comprehended what he had done. Many hours had been spent in consideration of the smallest details for the celebration, all the while ensuring that Elizabeth, as clever as she was, would not suspect anything beyond the special birthday dinner she was expecting. His object was to show her his appreciation for her support, patience, and understanding these past weeks.
A tightness in his throat impelled him to swallow several times as doubt intruded upon his reasoning. Would Elizabeth be pleased with his efforts to plan a memorable celebration for her? To gratify her, he would have spared no expense in marking this occasion with a lavish affair. However, his knowledge of his wife persuaded him that she would prefer the simple celebration planned for the following se’nnight to mark her twenty-fourth birthday and their son, Bennet’s, second.
While in contemplation of the meal planned for Elizabeth’s birthday dinner, his body was jerked forward by Regal’s inexplicable, erratic backward jump. “Deuced horse! Are you mad?” His eyes went wide as the verge of the narrow section of trail and the sheer drop below loomed next to him. Before he could breathe, let alone take his bearings, Regal reared up in a sudden, jarring movement.
A strangled breath escaped him—he had allowed the reins to slip from his fingers, and they fell uselessly to the ground. He grasped for Regal’s mane in a frenzied motion while inhaling a sharp burst of air. Darcy’s heart lurched when his sleek, new leather gloves failed to find a firm grip. The slow, steady loss of his balance and the frightening certainty that he was going to fall over the cliff into the ravine below caused every muscle in his body to tense. No, this cannot be!
Regal’s position at the edge of the trail left no section of ground available for a safe landing. Nothing—no trees, bushes, or even rocks were within reach to seize upon and prevent his fall, and the drop was certain to be fatal. It was a distance of over two hundred feet, and the rocky ground would not provide a soft landing. His breath came in ragged pants. Seized with horror, disbelief, and a frightening sense of helplessness, his body descended towards certain death.
***
Whilst walking in the rose garden at Pemberley with her faithful collie, Rory, at her side, Elizabeth Darcy halted her movement and wrapped her arms around herself. Her smile vanished. A change had occurred in the peaceful atmosphere surrounding her. An almost imperceptible, elusive tugging at the edges of her awareness grew in intensity until it filled her with the certitude of impending doom. The sky turned grey as a dark, malevolent cloud appeared above her, and the air grew chillingly cold. Gooseflesh covered her arms, and a shiver crept down her back as her eyes flitted around the shaded garden.
Alone in the garden,
she was safe. What could happen to her at Pemberley? This was her home; in no other place was she better protected. If she called out, three or four servants would come running. Yet the instinctive certainty that a terrible occurrence was about to take place caused her body to become infused with heat as Rory began barking—not his happy, playful bark but one of alarm. She raised her hand to her head when dizziness came over her and everything went dark. She was about to succumb in a way she had always associated with excitable women like her mother: she fainted.
***
Darcy accepted all was lost, and his body languished along with his hope. But then, it happened—an astounding occurrence—as if time had stopped. All sound and movement ceased, and he had a sensation of floating in air. He must have become insensible for a time because, when he regained consciousness, he was standing on the hard, solid ground of the trail beside Regal, with no notion of how he arrived there and no understanding of how he had saved himself. As he rubbed his temple, a survey of the stark surroundings gave him pause. How had he prevented himself from falling off the precipice? Had he somehow managed to grab the stirrup? Whatever he had done, he had no recollection of the circumstances.
For several minutes, Darcy stood on tremulous legs in a struggle to maintain his upright position next to Regal whilst his heart thundered in his chest.
“What happened, Regal? How did I end up here, and why do I have no memory of it?”
His horse seemed heedless of the fact he had almost killed his master, and paid him not the least attention. Rather, the stallion stamped his foreleg and snorted at something ahead of them on the trail—a snake! The creature moved off and disappeared into a small hole. Was this the explanation for Regal’s extreme reaction—that which unseated him? The ordinarily calm, reliable steed had a strong aversion to snakes.
The ramifications of what had almost occurred ran through his mind as laboured breaths heaved his chest. He could have died! His own careless inattention almost caused his demise. He would never have seen Elizabeth or Bennet again.
He invoked an image of his beloved Elizabeth. She had rendered a profound change upon his life. She had introduced joy, passion, and liveliness into the drab world in which he had existed before meeting her. Of course, the road to his current felicity had been anything but smooth. He had never known such agony as when she had rejected him with apparent finality following his first botched-up proposal. He winced as the memory of those long months of longing and despair, when she had seemed lost to him, came back in vivid detail. In stark contrast, his heart had leapt with joy when she let him know she had come to love him. Until that moment, such bliss had seemed an impossible dream.
Each day with Elizabeth had been a gift. The knowledge of her love kept him warm and sheltered from life’s little calamities. Just when he felt certain he could not possibly be made any happier, they had been blessed with Bennet. As if by magic, his capacity to love had grown upon his first glimpse of Bennet’s red, blotchy face. From that moment, he had no greater purpose in life than to guide and protect his son and any other children he might be lucky enough to have.
If he had died today, how would his family have been affected? Were there any matters of importance he had failed to anticipate? Upon giving the matter consideration, he was satisfied with the way he had written his marriage settlements and will. Elizabeth would be left wealthy, and she would take over the management of Pemberley. His wife was more than capable of overseeing the estate as long as a good steward was found. Mrs. Reynolds was competent to run the household as she had done before his marriage. Though the faithful housekeeper was getting along in years, she still had her wits, and she was training an efficient young maid to one day be responsible.
As Darcy breathed deeply, the rigidity in his spine lessened. He would have left them in a good financial state, but tears came to his eyes at the possibility of his time with his precious family being cut short. How fortunate I am to have Elizabeth and Bennet in my life! Yet I wish for more. I hope to have more children, raise them, and grow old with Elizabeth by my side. Today I almost lost my life. I must be more careful from now on. I have everything to live for.
Under the circumstances, he was not eager to ride. But the tingling in his limbs gradually abated as he led his horse toward Pemberley, so after twenty minutes, he halted, gave Regal several strokes on the neck, and mounted again.
When Darcy arrived home, he instructed a servant to have water sent up for a bath. In the main hall, he spun on his heel to face Mrs. Reynolds, who approached at a brisk pace.
The housekeeper’s forehead was replete with lines, and her words were rushed. “Sir, I am glad you are back. An incident occurred with Mrs. Darcy while you were out. She has recovered now, but she fainted while outside in the rose garden.”
His breath hitched. Elizabeth had never fainted before! His words rushed out in a booming voice. “Where is she now?”
Informed of his wife’s location, Darcy darted down the corridor towards the library. He halted at the entrance, transfixed at the sight before him. Elizabeth sat in a large chair with Bennet in her lap, reading one of his son’s favourite books. His breathing slowed. It was apparent that she was fine—not just fine but lovely and serene. He took another moment to savour the picture of his two most precious people on earth.
She raised her eyes to him and grinned as he entered.
He strode across the room to her side. “I was told you had fainted. Pray, tell me: How are you feeling?”
She reached her hand towards him. He took it, held it between his two hands, and then rubbed it as he searched her countenance.
“I am well, I assure you.” Elizabeth gave him an abashed smile. “I believe I did not drink enough water today. I feel rather foolish now.”
With a taut attitude, Darcy swallowed the words of admonition he might have uttered. He would have been more at ease had he insisted that, at least for the next few days, she keep a servant with her at all times, but his wife was certain to disagree.
Bennet grabbed the pages of his book, and Elizabeth gently worked his tiny hand loose lest he tear them. “How was your ride?”
He twisted his lips into a half-smile. “I found it more stimulating than I might have preferred.”
She raised her eyebrows at him.
As if tired of being ignored, the toddler said in a demanding, yet endearing tone, “Papa!”
Darcy leaned down to kiss Bennet’s forehead and then Elizabeth’s as well. “How is my boy today?”
He curled his mouth into a pout. “Want biscuit!”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “He has been saying that for the past ten minutes.” She leaned next to Bennet’s ear. “You need to eat your dinner first, my love.”
“No! Biscuit!” Bennet’s forehead took on a crinkled appearance.
She pointed to the set of blocks set out for his use. “Bennet, there are your blocks. Would you not like to play with them?”
He climbed down from his mother’s lap and busied himself with his blocks. It seemed the biscuit had been forgotten.
Elizabeth’s fond smile was directed towards their son as he played. Turning, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Considering his parents, it is no surprise the boy has a sweet tooth.”
She was correct. Until he met Elizabeth, Darcy was of the mistaken belief that his own exorbitant fondness for desserts was unsurpassed.
Bennet put together a structure that could best be described as a trapezoid. When it was clear that his attention was engaged in this project, Elizabeth rose and pulled Darcy to a nearby sofa so they could sit together. “Please tell me of your ride today.”
With his gaze focused upon his son, Darcy endeavoured to keep his tone calm and unfettered though his breathing became shallow at the memory. “I had a close call on one of the steep trails along the northern hills. Regal was startled by a snak
e. I lost my balance and almost went off the side of the path into the ravine. I thought I was done for, but I managed to stop myself in time.”
Elizabeth lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed it. Her eyes perused him with a flickering lustre. “Thank God you did not fall. You do not appear hurt.”
“No, I am unharmed. It was providential. I have asked for bath water to be sent up. I hoped you would join me.” His shoulders were taut, and his breath halted as he awaited her answer. He needed her in a way that defied explanation.
Biting her lip, she smiled back at him. “That is the best offer I have had all day.”
Bennet’s nurse, Miss Hunter, was summoned to take over the child’s care, and his parents walked upstairs hand in hand.
When the tub was filled and several extra buckets of hot water had been delivered, Darcy dismissed the servants and concentrated on the tiny buttons on Elizabeth’s dress. He let out a muffled curse as his building anticipation caused his fingers to fumble.
“What did you say, my love?”
Blast—she always did have excellent hearing! “Forgive me, my love. I was lamenting the number of small buttons on this dress. Whoever made this must have had tiny hands.” He expelled a deep breath as he unfastened the last of the buttons. “I cannot recall the last time we shared a bath.” He discarded her dress, and he would have moved on to her stays, but she spun to face him.
A wistfulness was detectable in her speech. “It has been too long.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before untying the knot in his cravat with deft fingers.
Because of circumstances beyond his control, Darcy had spent precious little time with his wife and child of late. His steward, Mr. Hughes, had resigned his position several weeks earlier, announcing his intention of marrying and relocating with his new wife in Scotland. Until Darcy found the right person for that crucial post, he was forced to deal with a multitude of tasks his steward would customarily have handled. “I am sorry, Elizabeth. I have neglected you of late, and I mean to do better in future.”