Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley

by Kelly Miller

  Emanating energy and good humour, Graham moved with great purpose towards them. After greetings were exchanged, the trio entered the breakfast room and made their selections from the abundant food choices upon the sideboard before taking their seats.

  The blond gentleman leaned forward to inhale the aroma from the food on his plate. “It smells delicious. I am pleased to have arrived in time to eat with you. I worked up an enormous appetite last night. I do not mind telling you. I was—”

  “Graham, I insist that you mind what you say in my wife’s presence.”

  She jerked her head towards her husband at his sharp tone. What was wrong with him? What would possess him to interrupt his friend in such a rude way?

  If Graham was puzzled by Fitzwilliam’s demeanour, he did not reveal it. He laughed as he lifted his gaze from his plate of food. “Darcy, my friend, I was merely going to mention that I assisted Mrs. Mead last night in rearranging her furniture. I noted she was not making the best use of the natural light for reading and sewing work. She was delighted with my suggestions.”

  What was this? Her breathing became rapid as she stared at Graham. “Mrs.—Mrs. Mead? You mean to say you were with Mrs. Mead at her residence last night—the entire night?”

  “Why yes, Elizabeth. Although I have known her but a short time, she and I have formed a strong bond of friendship.”

  Her eyes widened, and a flaming heat suffused her face. There was no mistaking the implication of his words. Her husband’s brows constricted, but no sign of shock or surprise was displayed. He had known of this, and his disquiet at her reaction showed.

  “I see. It was…thoughtful of you to provide assistance to Mrs. Mead.” She paused, employing a more emphatic tone. “Mrs. Mead is a close friend of mine. She is a kind and respectable lady.”

  Graham shifted in his chair. “Oh, well, I assure you, Elizabeth, it was a pleasure to be of help to Sar—um, that is, Mrs. Mead. And you are correct. She is an admirable lady.”

  Elizabeth flinched when he started to use Sarah’s given name. How was she supposed to feel about this awkward situation? It seemed so wrong and yet…how could she judge her friend’s actions? She had no notion of the effect on Sarah of losing her husband so soon after marriage—it was unimaginable. After enduring such a loss, could she blame Sarah for alleviating her loneliness where she could?

  Graham was quiet thereafter and focused on consuming the food on his plate.

  Her attention shifted towards her husband, who had returned to his meal but continued to send glances her way. He and Graham must have discussed this the previous night in the study. No doubt it had prompted an argument. She could not be easy with the revelation that Graham spent the night with her friend, but she soon chided herself for being missish. Sarah was not the first widow to find comfort in the arms of a man without the benefit of marriage.

  Giving her husband a weak smile, she broached the subject of their plan to visit the Green family for Graham’s benefit. When she asked him if he still planned to accompany them, he nodded his agreement.

  ***

  As it turned out, Darcy was unable to accompany Elizabeth and Graham to call upon the Green family. Mr. Cross had shown up breathless and wringing his hands as he requested immediate assistance to deal with a heated dispute between two tenants over a section of land they each believed was theirs to use. Mr. Cross feared the two men would come to blows if the master did not intervene.

  Elizabeth offered to delay the visit until his return, but it was possible he would be occupied for several hours. As tempted as Darcy was to ask her to wait, he did not. If he did, he could cause them to arrive too late to see Mrs. Green. Ignoring the churning in his stomach, he told her to go without him.

  ***

  Elizabeth and Graham were welcomed to the Greens’ humble home by Selina Green, a young woman in the midst of her third decade. Elizabeth introduced Graham as a good friend of her husband. On her husband’s behalf, she expressed his regrets for not being able to accompany them due to a last minute estate matter.

  Selina Green gave Graham a look that resembled an ogle. “I am sorry to miss seeing Mr. Darcy but pleased you and Mr. Graham came.” She asked after Bennet and smiled as Elizabeth spoke with no little pride of her young child’s progress learning his letters.

  In response to Elizabeth’s inquiry after Selina’s husband and children, she affirmed that they were all well; her boy was helping his father in the fields, and her young daughter was taking a nap.

  Setting the basket of provisions she brought for them on a table, Elizabeth removed the jar of Pomfret cakes. “I saw this at Birk’s and remembered what you said of your mother-in-law’s fondness for the liquorice cakes.”

  In a buoyant tone, Selina said, “Oh, Mrs. Darcy, I am sure my mother-in-law will be overjoyed to have them. Her appetite is not what it used to be, but she mentioned a few days past how she loves the taste of Pomfret cakes. Would you like to go in now and see her?”

  At her agreement, they were led to another room where an elderly woman lay in bed reading a book.

  Selina stood at the doorway and knocked on the open door. “Mother, look who is here to see you.”

  As they entered the room, Mrs. Green closed her book and set it on the table. Adjusting herself to a sitting position, she gave her visitors a weak, but genuine, smile. “Mrs. Darcy, you are a sight for sore eyes. I do so enjoy your visits. And who is this stranger? Wherever did you find such a striking gentleman? I have never seen a man so handsome.”

  Elizabeth walked forward with Graham, who favoured Mrs. Green with his most dazzling smile. “Mrs. Green, may I present my husband’s good friend, Mr. Graham? He is visiting us from Calabria.”

  With an exaggerated bow, Graham said, “It is my great pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Green.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Graham.” Mrs. Green pointed to the chair closest to her bed. “Sir, please indulge me by sitting here. My eyes are not what they used to be, and I have few enough pleasures these days. I should like to get a good look at you.”

  Graham’s hearty laughter lightened the atmosphere of the room as he took the designated chair. “You are most kind, madam. I feel privileged to have been afforded the best seat in the room.” Angling his head to the side, he winked at Elizabeth as she sat in the other chair.

  Declaring the need to look in on her daughter, Selina excused herself and left the room.

  Holding the distinctive jar decorated in black and white stripes in view of the older lady, Elizabeth said, “I heard from your daughter that you have a preference for Pomfret cakes. Would you care for one now?”

  Mrs. Green clapped her hands and grinned. “Oh, you dear lady! I have been dreaming of those confections for weeks. They are an extravagance I have on rare occasions. Yes, please, I should love one, and I hope you will help yourselves as well.”

  She opened the jar and handed one of the flat, round Pomfret cakes to Mrs. Green. “I thank you, but to be truthful, I do not favour them.”

  She offered the jar to Graham but he shook his head and put his hand on his stomach. “If you recall, I ate a great deal at breakfast.”

  She smiled at his gesture. His statement was true enough; she had never seen a man consume so much at one sitting. She set the jar on the table.

  Mrs. Green held the cake aloft to view its familiar engraving as she spoke. “It is true; not everyone appreciates these. My granddaughter and I are the only ones in my family who enjoy them.” She took a small bite, and a sigh slipped past her lips as she chewed the sweet confection. “Mrs. Darcy, I cannot thank you enough, both for the Pomfret cakes and for bringing along this delightful young man for me to gaze upon.”

  “You are a flatterer. I should wager you turned a few heads in your day.” Graham waggled his eyebrows at the older lady.

  A touch of pi
nk could be seen on Mrs. Green’s otherwise pallid cheeks. “I suppose one could say I was attractive in my youth. My dear, departed husband, Thomas, used to tell me I was the prettiest girl in Lambton.”

  Graham beamed. “I knew I was correct. The true beauty of a woman is constant; it never fades away.”

  A lump formed in Elizabeth’s throat. Graham’s talent as a charmer was impressive; it was no wonder Sarah was unable to resist him. The trio continued to chat in a light, cordial style. After a while, the elderly woman grew quiet—an apparent signal to a shift in her mood.

  Mrs. Green’s smile evaporated and her eyes closed. When she opened her eyes, her visage had clouded, and her forehead was filled with lines. “I hope you will excuse my frankness. I do not have a great deal of time left on this earth. The surgeon, Mr. Cooper, has said I may last a few days or less. I grow weaker with each sunrise, and I am ready to leave.” She paused, taking several measured breaths. “I hope you will convey to your husband that my family and I appreciate what a generous and responsible landlord he has been.”

  Moisture pooled in Elizabeth’s eyes. “I am awed that you would think of this at such a time. I know I can speak for my husband when I say that it is a privilege for him to have hard-working tenants like your family at Pemberley. But I shall relay your message to Mr. Darcy.”

  The elderly woman nodded. As her eyes moved towards the window, a doleful heaviness filled them.

  “I hope you shall excuse my impertinence,” said Graham, “but despite your words, it is plain to me you are aggrieved. It might help you to speak of it. Will you not tell us what is on your mind?”

  Mrs. Green smiled at him with an air of wistfulness. “You are a perceptive young man. My youngest son, Lewis, is in the army. The last I heard from him was months ago when he wrote to tell us he was to be sent to Spain. I had hoped to hear word from him before I pass away, but it appears it will not happen.”

  Graham reached out to take her hand. “I have an unusual request. I ask that you close your eyes and picture your son Lewis.”

  Her eyes widened, and she turned to Elizabeth as if to gauge her reaction to his words.

  Although Elizabeth took care to keep her countenance, her breathing grew shallow at Graham’s peculiar request. What did the man have in mind?

  After a moment, Mrs. Green gave him a weak smile and closed her eyes.

  He closed his eyes as well. His lips pressed together, and his forehead contorted as if deep in thought. At length, he opened his eyes and regarded the elderly woman with a grave expression. “Madam, I am aware of your son Lewis’ fate. Would you like me to tell you of it?”

  Elizabeth put her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. A smothering rush of heat spread through her. Did Graham imagine himself to be a soothsayer?

  Mrs. Green opened her eyes, blinking several times. After staring back at him for a long moment, she spoke with certitude. “Yes, please. I would like to know my son’s destiny.”

  Graham spoke in a soothing baritone. “Your son Lewis was involved in a battle that took place in the mountains of Spain in June. He exhibited bravery and strength in his efforts in combat before being hit by enemy fire. I assure you, your valiant son did not suffer. His death was immediate.”

  Drawing her hands to her face, Mrs. Green dipped her head and bewailed her loss. Elizabeth sucked in her breath, clenching her hands in her lap as the soft, mournful lament permeated the small room. Graham leaned towards the elderly woman, his brows raised in silent question. She took several shallow breaths, met his eyes, and nodded.

  “He died as a hero. His actions allowed many others in his regiment to avoid injury or death. Lewis’s last thoughts were of you. He recalled the day he left home and pictured you sitting outside in your favourite chair as you admired the blooming bluebells. You had baked him his favourite currant tea biscuits early that morning to take with him.”

  With her eyes glistening, she nodded. “Yes, that is correct.” She pointed out the window. “Right there; that is where I was when I last saw my Lewis. He hugged me as he said goodbye and told me he loved me.”

  He squeezed the elderly woman’s hand and released it. “Do not fret over Lewis anymore. You will be with him again soon, and you will be reunited with your husband as well.”

  Dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, she smiled at him. “Mr. Graham, you have brought me a great deal of comfort.” She turned to Elizabeth. “I am grateful to you both for your visit. Now, if you will excuse me, I have become fatigued.”

  Elizabeth, who had been staring at Graham with a slack jaw, roused herself to stand and face Mrs. Green with the semblance of calm. “In that case, we shall take our leave now. Goodbye, Mrs. Green.”

  Her smile was faint. “Goodbye, Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Graham.”

  Graham rose, bowed to Mrs. Green, and they left the room.

  Riding in the curricle back to the house, Elizabeth could not contain her curiosity. “How did you know to say those things to Mrs. Green?”

  Bringing the horses to a halt, he gave her a glance then looked ahead of them into the distance, seeming to contemplate his response. “I am able to sense certain details pertaining to people, living and dead. It is a sort of…intuition. When I apply my mind to the task, I can make a connection of sorts with other people, and images enter my head, such as that of Mrs. Green in her favourite chair.” He faced her. His eyes blazed at her like a probe, appearing to gauge her reaction.

  She answered with a slow nod. This was all so fantastic, the stuff of fairy-tales, yet he made it sound almost reasonable.

  “You see, there are times when a person’s thoughts are palpable to me, such as the final moments before death or when experiencing a potent emotion. At these times, the mental images leave an impression that I am able to extract. Random thoughts of people I pass by may be accessible to me, but the reflections of most people, like yourself and Darcy, are unavailable to me unless I am in physical contact and using all of my faculties to receive them. In the case of those who have passed on, I can communicate with them via physical contact with their living loved ones as I did with Mrs. Green.”

  She bit her lower lip as she considered his words. “I must tell you, it was remarkable to witness. Your words seemed to give Mrs. Green serenity.” Her brow crinkled. It occurred to her that having such a “gift” might be an ordeal for Graham. At times, he must be subjected to all manner of unpleasant feelings and images. The poor man—what an awful burden this must be!

  “Did my explanation disturb you? I was afraid it might. Or…are you thinking of a person who passed on and wondering what that person’s last ruminations might have been?”

  She took in a sharp breath. “I had not considered that. I cannot deny the concept is intriguing, but I do not wish to trouble you.”

  “Please do not think of it as troubling me. I should be pleased to do this for you.”

  “Are you certain?”

  He smiled. “Yes, I am certain.” He tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows.

  She attempted to quell the excitement welling up in her breast lest she be left disappointed. Her voice held a slight quaver. “Since you raised the subject, I lost my Grandmother Bennet six years ago to influenza. She and I were close. She lived with our family the last few of years of her life, but when she died, I was visiting my aunt and uncle Gardiner in London. I have often regretted not being there to say goodbye.”

  His smile became a grin as he leaned in towards her. “It would be my pleasure to attempt to obtain memories from your grandmother.”

  Could he do this? Inundated with thoughts and images of her beloved Grandmama Jemma, her heart thudded at the notion of getting a message from her. “I—I would love to hear anything you could tell me of her.” He held out his hand. She reached out and placed her hand on top of his.

  “Please close your e
yes and imagine your Grandmother Bennet.”

  Closing her eyes, she formed an image in her mind of her smiling Grandmama Jemma. A particular instance when she was eight years old came into her mind. Her grandmother had comforted her after she had been chastised by her mother for getting her dress dirty. Grandmama Jemma’s eyes had gleamed at her as she spoke in a loving tone. “Cheer up, my sweet Lizzy. I fear your poor mother will never understand you, but do not ever lose your spirit for adventure and your hunger for learning. These are the qualities that make you so special.” Upon hearing Graham’s voice, she opened her eyes, and she was taken out of her reverie.

  “I am seeing a memory. A grey-haired lady was giving a riding lesson to a reluctant young girl of twelve or thirteen. The girl had a fear of horses, but I sense she was determined to please the older lady, so she worked to overcome her fright.” His eyes opened and fluttered. “The little girl was you, was it not?”

  She nodded as tears formed in her eyes. She brought out her handkerchief. “Yes. I suffered a bad fall from a horse when I was ten, and I had no wish ever to ride again, such was my fear of getting back on a horse. But Grandmama Jemma thought it was unhealthy for me to allow my fear to rule me. Since she had always adored horses and riding, she convinced me to try riding again on her own horse, a wise and gentle old mare named Jenny. Once I became comfortable riding Jenny, I rode her every day until the sweet old horse grew sick and died a year or so after Grandmama Jemma’s death.”

  Graham closed his eyes again. “Your Grandmother Bennet is letting me know that she is not sorry she passed while you were away. She preferred you remember her as she was when you last saw her—when she hugged you goodbye before you got into your father’s carriage to go to London.” He opened his eyes and removed his hand from under hers.