Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley

by Kelly Miller

Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Yes, I do. I got a taste of her malice last night. My efforts at gaining your aunt’s good opinion might be a waste of time, yet I should like to try.”

  He brought her hand to his chest; his eyes pleaded with her. “I do not know whether I can agree to allow my aunt to stay here, knowing she has such evil intentions.”

  “I cannot believe you truly see your aunt as evil. She is stubborn and ill behaved, but she desires to hurt me in order to avenge a perceived wrong to her daughter. Erroneous as she may be, it is not a senseless desire to harm but a maternal instinct that impels her.” Her husband’s frown and the determined set to his jaw signified his inner struggle. The dear man was anxious for her sake. In other circumstances, it might be unfair to take advantage of the knowledge that he loathed denying her anything she desired; but in this case, she was acting for his benefit.

  “I see your point, but the timing of their visit could not have been worse. I know you are disappointed that both Georgiana and Jane are unable to come for your birthday”—his inflection increased in strength—“but to have the company of Lady Catherine and her ‘friend’ thrust upon you at this time is insupportable.”

  Elizabeth gave him a smile that had always served to placate him in the past and moved her fingers through his hair. It was not a secret that Fitzwilliam had been meeting with Mrs. Reynolds to plan a special birthday meal for her on September 19. She and Bennet were both born in the month of September, she on the nineteenth and her son on the twenty-fourth. “You must know the only people I need around me to have a happy birthday are you and Bennet.”

  He groaned. “My love, if you truly wish to try to change my aunt’s mind, then I suppose we shall let them stay—at least for now.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “You are an extraordinary lady to attempt this; my aunt is such a bitter old woman. I know it is for my sake that you are making this effort, and I love you for it.”

  She whispered, “I love you too.”

  Fitzwilliam’s lips were on hers in a hungry kiss, eliciting familiar, enticing sensations that coursed through her, inciting moans. As he trailed his kisses from her lips to her neck, she tilted her head to facilitate his movement. When he halted and moved away, she peered at him through her lashes.

  He traced his finger over her bottom lip. “I am afraid it is time we went downstairs for dinner.”

  She raised a brow, and her lips turned upwards, forming the saucy expression he treasured. “Then I dare say you had better hurry.”

  His fiery eyes caressed her; his voice was husky. “As you wish.”

  ***

  When Darcy and Elizabeth, both smiling like simple-minded fools, arrived several minutes late for dinner, Lady Catherine did not rouse herself to remark on it, but gave them both a pointed glare, ensuring they knew their transgression had not gone unnoticed. It was insupportable for the host and hostess to show up late when guests were present, but this sort of thing was to be expected when one had married a woman of such poor breeding.

  It was a disheartening situation; her nephew lived in such a plebeian mode! Her dear sister Anne would be distraught if she had lived to see the woman to whom her son had tied himself. Would that she was not forced to witness it! Due to the efficiency of Mrs. Reynolds, the household continued to run without calamity despite having an incompetent mistress. If not for her housekeeper, Elizabeth would be exposed for what she was: uncouth, low-born, cunning baggage with no idea how to behave with decorum.

  Throughout dinner, as she had done the prior evening, Lady Catherine directed all of her attention to her nephew in order to excite his anticipation of hearing Lady Rebecca’s musical performance after dinner. Despite her efforts, as he answered each query, he ended with some question or remark to his wife, repeatedly drawing her into their conversation. By the third time this occurred, she was grinding her teeth. Why would she wish to listen to anything that woman could have to say on any subject? In her pique, she grew quieter than was her wont. The object of Lady Catherine’s scorn drew her attention as the woman spoke in a teasing fashion to her husband. She made a grudging acknowledgement to herself that, for all she lacked in education and breeding, Elizabeth was gifted when it came to maintaining Darcy’s interest.

  ***

  As he made his way through an ample serving of roast beef with roasted vegetables, chicken fricassee, Scotch eggs, mashed turnips, braised celery, bread, and gravy, Graham made note of the Darcys’ demeanour. It appeared they had settled their argument. Elizabeth had made several stalwart attempts to get Lady Catherine to converse with her, but the old woman seemed determined to give her as little notice as she possibly could. Why did Elizabeth bother?

  Lady Catherine continued in her attempts to impress Darcy with Lady Rebecca’s virtues. The older lady asked to hear Lady Rebecca display her talents on both the harp and the pianoforte after dinner. She monopolised Darcy’s attention, all the while putting forth effusive praise for the lady’s skill at both instruments and her exquisite singing voice.

  His reflections were interrupted by the servant who brought out the evening’s dessert course items, which included apple pie and pound cake with clotted cream. The pie had an appetizing appearance and an amazing aroma! The girl flashed him a smile as she set it on the table.

  He moved the pie closer and helped himself to a portion. It was delicious! Before the group left the table, he had consumed two more slices and proclaimed the pie to be the best thing he had ever eaten.

  ***

  Lady Catherine wore a satisfied smile. She almost hummed along as Lady Rebecca delivered a splendid musical performance. Lady Rebecca acquitted herself admirably, singing and playing on the harp and pianoforte. By design, her selection of pieces included Darcy’s particular favourites. However, her smile disappeared at the sight of the Darcys sitting close together on a sofa and holding hands. Such improper behaviour in front of guests was not to be borne! Darcy was raised to know better.

  Lady Rebecca’s performances must have impressed Darcy, and yet several times he had been talking softly to his wife instead of listening. Even so, Lady Rebecca finished playing to thunderous applause and words of praise from all present. The lady glanced her way as she walked to her seat as if seeking approval for a job well done, and she managed to produce a tight-lipped smile. It was not her fault that her nephew did not seem to appreciate how talented the woman was. Mayhap he should be made to see the stark contrast between his wife’s meagre talents and Lady Rebecca’s.

  Upon her request to hear Elizabeth play, she received a wide-eyed look in response; no doubt, Elizabeth was surprised. Nevertheless, the chit complied.

  Her anticipatory smile died on her lips soon after Elizabeth began to play a wistful Beethoven sonata. The former Miss Bennet’s skill had improved a great deal since her visit to Rosings over three years ago. It seemed the wench had taken her advice and become more diligent about practicing. This was not surprising since, as Mrs. Darcy, she could now afford to study with masters. How vexing! The difference between her skill at the pianoforte and Lady Rebecca’s was not so very obvious.

  Although Lady Rebecca had taken Elizabeth’s place on the sofa next to Darcy, her attempts to engage him in conversation were not successful. It was plain to see that her nephew was intent on listening to his wife play and was not inclined to talk through her performance.

  In a final attempt to display the superiority of Lady Rebecca, she asked Elizabeth to sing for them. She sang a sweet, melancholy, Irish folk song.

  This proved a bit more successful. Lady Rebecca’s voice was superior in every way to Elizabeth’s. But Lady Catherine was bound for disappointment yet again. Her nephew’s visage attested a different opinion. As the uplifting sound of his wife’s singing reached him, he displayed a slight smile and a distant look entered his eyes. It seemed that the man had deluded himself into thinking his wife w
as a gifted songstress.

  Soon thereafter, everyone decided to turn in for the evening. Mr. Graham was the first to leave. He said goodnight to everyone and disappeared soon thereafter.

  With a rigid posture, she walked beside Lady Rebecca as they ascended the stairs to retire, followed by their hosts. At the second floor landing, she and her companion turned left towards their rooms while Darcy and Elizabeth turned right towards the master’s and mistress’s chambers.

  When Lady Catherine reached the door to her own chamber, a sudden impulse made her turn towards the couple before entering her room. They walked hand in hand, stopping in front of the door. Darcy raised his wife’s hand to his lips and kissed it as Elizabeth gazed at him with a seductive smile. With her jaw clenched and her spine rigid, Lady Catherine continued to keep her eyes on the pair until they entered the mistress’ room and shut the door.

  ***

  Sunday, September 17

  Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were to visit the Green family on their morning walk, so her husband carried a basket of fruit and assorted baked goods. The couple traded diverting remembrances of their individual time spent with Bennet during the past several days as they walked the two miles to the Greens’ residence. Elizabeth shared the entries added that morning to the “Bennet Journal,” a written log she had started in the first month of his birth to keep track of their son’s growth, activities, and most memorable words and phrases.

  Their light-hearted discourse and forward movement halted as they came within sight of a mourning wreath on the door.

  She gasped and her eyes met his. He gave her hand a squeeze, and they continued. The door opened before they reached it, and they were greeted by Martin and Selina Green, who welcomed them in and thanked them for coming.

  Fitzwilliam handed Selina the basket. “I am sorry to have come too late to see your mother one last time.”

  Mr. Green said, “There is no need to apologize. We can imagine how busy you have been since Mr. Hughes left. Besides, my mother was much comforted by the visit with Mrs. Darcy and your friend.”

  Selina nodded and placed a hand on her heart. “You should have heard mother Green talk on and on of how wonderful it was to meet Mr. Graham, and how thoughtful Mrs. Darcy was to bring her the Pomfret cakes she so loved. Her mood had been elevated after your visit for the whole of the day and evening. In fact, she was more animated last night than we had seen her in months. I must admit to being curious regarding an aspect of your visit. My mother-in-law would not tell us exactly what Mr. Graham had said, only that what he said gave her peace.” Selina’s eyes fastened upon her with an expectant glint.

  With her husband and Mr. Green now gazing upon her with undisguised interest in what Graham had imparted to the older Mrs. Green, she swallowed. What could she tell them that would satisfy their curiosity? She would not tell the Greens the truth; many people were superstitious and wary of anyone who seemed to be different or unnatural in any way. The fewer people who were aware of Graham’s “gift,” the better. Besides, for whatever reason, old Mrs. Green had not seen fit to pass on to her family the information she had learned from Graham. “Oh, she must have been referring to a poem Mr. Graham quoted that day. It was William Cowper’s ‘Light Shining out of Darkness.’ Mrs. Green seemed to find comfort in the words, and she remained in higher spirits for the rest of our visit.”

  Mr. Green shared a puzzled look with his wife. “Well, I am surprised to hear that a poem could have such an effect on my mother; she was never one to read poetry. But no matter, I must thank you, Mrs. Darcy, for coming to visit her with Mr. Graham. We believe it was in the early hours of the morning that my mother left this earth. It seemed she went peacefully in her sleep, which is all any of us could hope for.” The man’s facial muscles tightened. “I must say the timing of it was fortuitous. Early this morning we received notification from the army of my brother, Lewis’s, fate. We had not heard from him in many months and feared the worst. When we last heard from Lewis, he was to go to Spain. We learned this morning that he lost his life during battle in the Pyrenees Mountains.”

  Both Darcys expressed their condolences for this second loss to the Green family.

  Mr. Green nodded, his voice solemn. “I thank you. We are proud of Lewis. My brother was a brave man, and I have no doubt he fought with everything he had in him.”

  Fitzwilliam said, “You have every reason to be proud of your brother; he died in the most honourable of circumstances. But this is indeed a sad time for your family. If there is aught we can do to help you, please let us know.”

  “I thank you, Mr. Darcy. I have lived here all of my life, but I have heard tales in my day of how tenants are treated on other estates. I appreciate how kind and fair you have always been in the way you run your estate. Your father was the same way. I believe part of the reason Pemberley is so prosperous is because your tenants respect you as a landlord and want to work hard for you. We appreciate the generous manner in which you allow your tenants to share in the profits from their crops.”

  Elizabeth’s chest swelled at the well-deserved praise Fitzwilliam received from his tenant. Her husband, however, displayed a stiff attitude. He was uncomfortable receiving such attention.

  Directing his gaze towards the window, Fitzwilliam spoke in a quiet tone. “I am glad to know you are happy living here, Mr. Green.”

  ***

  On their way back to the house, Darcy brought up the subject of Graham’s words to the late Mrs. Green. “Elizabeth, I know you well enough to be certain you either prevaricated or held information back from the Greens. I cannot help but wonder why you felt the need to do so.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder as she flashed a smile his way. “I should have known you would realize that. I had intended to tell you of our visit. I should have told you the other day, but Lady Catherine showed up, and…well…my mind was occupied with other things. But I shall tell you now; it was amazing to observe.” Elizabeth recounted the details of the visit with the late Mrs. Green, including the woman’s own words of gratitude towards him. When she spoke of the revelation Graham had shared regarding the fate of Mrs. Green’s son, Lewis, and his later recounting of an experience she had with her own late grandmother, her eyes were riveted on his face.

  He resisted the inclination to look away. Why had Graham revealed such an extraordinary ability to Elizabeth and the late Mrs. Green, and what should he say about it now?

  “From your lack of reaction, I must assume you were aware of Graham’s unique gift.”

  He coughed. Since Graham’s arrival, he had struggled with the question of whether he should reveal the truth to Elizabeth so she would be forewarned of the possible danger he posed. Would she even believe it? What if he managed to convince her and it served only to frighten her—or worse, endanger her? He would not take that chance. “I suppose you could say I knew Graham was a most singular individual with unusual talents.”

  He halted their progress and spoke in a grave tone. “Elizabeth, you must promise to tell me if Graham ever does anything to make you uncomfortable.”

  Her brows drew together as her eyes searched his face. “I shall, of course, but I cannot believe you expect anything of the sort.”

  “No, I do not. It is just that I have not seen Graham in many years. It is possible for people to change over time, so he may not be the man he used to be.”

  Pressing her lips together, she seemed to muse on his reply. She would probably attribute the warning to his tendency to be overly protective. She used a hesitant tone. “Are you concerned about Graham’s involvement with Sarah Mead? Do you imagine he will damage her reputation?”

  He tensed at this reminder of why they had been spared the man’s presence this morning. “I cannot like his consorting with your friend in such a way, but he insists he will be discreet and not ruin her good name. I am not sure how he h
as managed it, but I have not heard any whispers concerning the two of them.”

  “Neither have I, thank goodness. But I also fear that Sarah’s feelings will be engaged; I would not want her to be hurt when Graham returns to Italy. I hope she takes care not to get too attached to the man. I could be wrong, but he has given me no indication that he is looking to take a wife.”

  Now that was a disturbing thought! Certainly, there could be no chance of Graham wishing to take Mrs. Mead or anyone else with him when he should leave. “I do not think you are wrong. I think your friend would be wise to keep a guard on her heart.”

  With a gentle tug on his hand, Elizabeth pulled him back into a walk.

  Chapter 6: A Brother’s Visit

  Later that morning, while Graham and Darcy were out taking care of estate business and Elizabeth was on her way to visit with Bennet in the nursery, Mrs. Reynolds called out to her. The housekeeper informed her that Lady Rebecca—who had missed church services that morning, indicating she was indisposed—expected to remain in her room for a few days. It seemed the lady suffered from a recurring ailment that was debilitating but not serious.

  She nodded at her housekeeper and continued on her way. Her lips moved of their own accord into a smile. A moment later, she halted and pressed her hand upon her mouth. She could not allow Lady Rebecca to affect her in so negative a manner! How could she be so unkind as to rejoice at another woman’s infirmity? The uncomfortable thought was pushed from her mind as an idea formed. This was an ideal opportunity to seek out Lady Catherine.

  Having ascertained that the lady was in the library, she took Bennet from the nursery and entered the room hand in hand with her son. As they neared the forbidding woman, who was perusing a London magazine, she said, “Good morning, Lady Catherine. I hope you have been comfortable here and have everything you need.”

  The lady’s sole answer was a grunt.