The Pemberley Chronicles

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  When they retired after a most pleasant and stimulating evening, Jane expressed her surprise that he was unmarried. Lizzie laughed and warned her against matchmaking—which had been the bane of their lives at home. Jane protested that she had no intention of doing so but added, “Lizzie, he is such a charming and educated gentleman, that I find it impossible to believe, that had he wished to marry, he could not have found a suitable partner. Surely, he does not intend to remain a bachelor?” Lizzie laughed and begged her to remember that Dr Grantley was but a few years older than Mr Darcy, so there was hope for him yet!

  And so, on to Pemberley . . .

  CHAPTER TWO

  . . . To make a celebration

  T

  HE DRIVE TO PEMBERLEY took them through wooded country stripped partially bare by the Winter winds. Though Elizabeth had been to the house both before and after her engagement to Darcy, she was, on this

  occasion, assailed by a tumult of emotions, which kept her unusually silent. Beside her, her husband was also quiet and thoughtful, but this was not particularly unusual for Darcy. It was left to Charles Bingley to keep up a commentary for the benefit of his wife, pointing out every item of interest, every lovely aspect, quite unashamedly showing off his familiarity with his friend’s fine estate. There was no snow on the ground; in fact, the sky was clear and blue. But the clouds gathering up ahead suggested that there might be snow on the way.

  Elizabeth’s mind kept harking back to the first time she had come here driving from Lambton with her aunt and uncle, hoping merely to get a visitor’s view of Pemberley, never suspecting that they would meet the owner himself, returning unexpectedly early. She recalled her confusion and embarrassment on seeing him standing there not twenty yards from her, his face suffused in a deep blush. She smiled to herself as she remembered their encounter and all that had flowed from it.

  Had it really been only last Summer? She sighed and turned slowly from contemplating the cold wintry woods to look at her husband. She was rewarded with a warm smile that confirmed her suspicions that he was remembering too. Unwilling to break the spell of the moment, she said nothing, knowing there was no need for words. The magic moment was gone, however, as Bingley asked, “Not much longer now, is it, Darcy?” to which he replied, “No, just half a mile down the road, and we shall be into the park.” Lapsing into a reverie again, Lizzie recalled how it had looked last Summer as they descended into the valley and drove towards Pemberley House. The handsome, stone building had made her catch her breath as her aunt and uncle admired its elegant lines and noble proportions, set as it was in a beautifully landscaped park, against a background of wooded hills.

  When they had been here again in Autumn, after her engagement to Mr Darcy, she’d had more time to appreciate the myriad of colours in the woods above the house as well as the streams and valleys below it. Darcy had taken special pleasure in showing her his favourite views, and they had walked along the stream till it reached its confluence with the river, which meandered along a lovely winding valley as far as the eye could see. When she had pointed out that it was an ideal spot for a picnic, Darcy had immediately promised they would have one there next Summer, to commemorate her first visit to Pemberley. She had teased him gently then, asking if he really wanted to perpetuate the memory of that day, which had been so embarrassing to both of them. To which Darcy had replied, “But of course, dearest, for after the initial astonishment, I think we got on very well indeed. For my part, it was the day that saw the resurrection of my hopes. I shall never forget the happiness I felt after I had seen you here at Pemberley.” This time, Elizabeth, who had never seen it in Winter, almost gasped at the first view of the house, its graceful architecture thrown into relief by the starkness of the Winter landscape and the dark foliage of the pine and fir trees in the grounds around it.

  Jane, who by now had changed her seat so she could see the way ahead more clearly, was asking questions about the estate, and Darcy, with the courtesy of a gracious host, was answering her enquiries.

  Listening to them, Elizabeth wondered again at her blindness in believing Wickham’s wicked lies that had Mr Darcy as a haughty, short-tempered man with little or no patience for those he presumed to be beneath him. Every circumstance had proved her wrong, as she experienced not only the love and affection he lavished upon her but much more the generosity and genuine graciousness of his behaviour towards all members of her family. As a husband, brother, and friend, Mr Darcy had passed every test. Involuntarily, Lizzie smiled, and Bingley caught her eye as she did. Bingley, whose admiration for his friend knew no bounds, smiled broadly and said in his own amiable way, “I told Jane, Darcy would be the man to tell her about Pemberley; he’s so besotted with the place.”

  “I can understand why,” said Lizzie, as the carriage crossed the bridge and drove to the great front door.

  They alighted and went up the steps into the hall, to be received by Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, who had not seen them since the wedding. Her delight at having her Master back was so apparent it was quite moving, especially to Elizabeth, whom she greeted with warmth and deference, asking if they had had a comfortable journey and showing them into the saloon, where a lively fire was burning and a table was laid for afternoon tea. There, waiting for them was Georgiana, whose greeting was as affectionate and warm as their parting had been, just a week ago. She was obviously delighted to have her brother home again, and of course, now her affection extended to Elizabeth.

  Jane was overwhelmed with the scale and grace of the rooms and the elegance of the furniture and accessories. “Oh Lizzie,” she whispered, “It’s beautiful.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled, but she forbore to tease her sister, as she had done on that night many months ago when she attributed the first stirrings of her love for Darcy to her appreciation of his beautiful estate.

  After tea, they were shown upstairs to their rooms—to rest awhile before dinner, which was always at seven in the Winter unless they had company, other than family. Mrs Reynolds, concerned for their comfort, provided Elizabeth and Jane with a lady’s maid, her niece, Jenny, a pleasant young woman with a strong family resemblance to her aunt. Mrs Reynolds hoped she would be satisfactory, and Lizzie, who had shared a maid with her mother and four sisters, assured her that Jenny would do very nicely. Before leaving them, Mrs Reynolds took the opportunity to explain that she had, in consultation with Miss Darcy, decided that it was not appropriate to present the household staff to the new Mistress of Pemberley as soon as she had arrived after a very long journey. However, the staff would be ready to receive them in the hall before dinner. Lizzie thanked her for her kind consideration and added she was looking forward to meeting them. She understood the formal protocol, and as Darcy explained later, it was a significant day for the staff, too. There had not been a Mistress of Pemberley for many years, since the death of his mother. “Will you be there too?” she asked, a little anxiously, and sensing her nervousness, he smiled and answered, “Of course, my dear,” and she was instantly at ease again.

  When they went down to dinner, Lizzie was glad she had worn her new green silk gown and the jewels her husband had given her; the servants, all of them, were so smartly turned out. With Mr Darcy at her side, she acknowledged them all, and she accepted their good wishes and the welcoming words spoken by Mrs Reynolds. A little girl—the daughter of one of the men— approached with a bunch of Winter roses, and everyone was charmed, when Lizzie, quite spontaneously, bent to thank her with a kiss. Looking on, Darcy knew that these men and women had been enchanted, just as he had been—not just by the beauty, but also by the unaffected charm of their new Mistress. He had known most of them all his life and could sense their pleasure and approval.

  Dinner was a simple but excellent meal, with soup, fish and poultry, roasted vegetables, and a dessert which was declared to be Darcy’s favourite, as well as the best wines from the cellar. Elizabeth could barely suppress a smile at the spoiling of the Master that seemed to be the order of the day. />
  After dinner, it was time to talk of plans for Christmas, with Georgiana pointing out gently that there were but ten days to Christmas Eve and her important party for the children of the Pemberley Estate. Lizzie and Jane promised to help, and it was decided that on the following day, the three of them would sit down after breakfast and draw up some plans. Darcy and Bingley were going to be riding into Lambton, so they would have the morning to themselves.

  Later, Georgiana and Lizzie were persuaded to oblige them with music, and again memories of last Summer came flooding back as Elizabeth played and sang with her sister-in-law, who was now much more at ease than before. Looking across at Darcy, she saw again the expression that she had first seen in this very room. At that time, it had led her to wonder at his feelings for her; she knew now that it was a confirmation of them. The last time they were in this room and she was at the instrument with Georgiana, they may have both preferred to conceal their feelings from each other and the rest of the company; now, they were in love, and it mattered not who knew it. Mrs Reynold’s smile as she brought in the candles and bade them all goodnight suggested that she knew it, too. Lizzie recalled their conversation when they had visited Pemberley last Summer as strangers—Mrs Reynolds was not sure there could be a woman good enough for her Master, who, she had assured them, had been the “sweetest tempered, most generous hearted boy in the world.” Even allowing for some partiality born of loyalty, it had been agreed that this was high praise indeed. Lizzie could now assert that to the best of her own intimate knowledge, that boy had grown into the most generous and kindhearted of men and the best of husbands. She acknowledged herself the most fortunate of women, that he had chosen her to be his wife. Based on her reception and the kindness, concern, and respect extended to her, Lizzie had reason to believe that Mrs Reynolds approved of his choice.

  As they went to bed that night, she told Darcy of that conversation and was assured that he had not always been the perfect little boy Mrs Reynolds recalled. He confessed that he may well have been selfish and stubborn in his behaviour as a young man. “And I need not tell you, my love, that Pride sometimes got in the way too.”

  “Oh, hush,” said Lizzie, not wanting to spoil this lovely evening with memories of recriminations, but Darcy persisted, wanting her to understand the extent of her own influence upon him and the depth of the change he had wrought upon himself for her.

  “Since you wish to credit me with this happy transformation, I will certainly accept it, my dearest,” she said, “but believe me, I have often reproached myself for the harshness of my judgement, the cruelty of my words, and the hurt I must have caused you. So, shall we say we have both accepted our faults and pledge never to hurt one another again? Are we agreed?” Darcy nodded, took both her hands in his, and drew her close; he had no words to express the happiness of this moment, and neither had she, but, no matter, for none were needed.

  The following morning, Mr and Mrs Darcy rose late, dressed, and went downstairs to find that most of the others had done the same, except Bingley, who had always been an early bird. Lizzie recalled how very early in the day he used to call on them at Longbourn, much to the confusion of Mrs Bennet. She reminded Jane of the day he had proposed to her, having arrived before any of them were dressed, and the total chaos it had made of their mother’s plans; the sisters laughed together at the memory, commenting as they did on the delightful consequences of that day upon all their lives. “Of course, Lizzie, I had no idea then that you and Mr Darcy were in love and so close to becoming engaged,” Jane teased, prompting both Darcy and Lizzie to protest that they barely knew it themselves at the time, and it was to the amazing intervention of Lady Catherine de Bourgh that they owed the good understanding that followed and actually led to their engagement.

  Jane laughed a delightful happy laugh as she took both their hands and drew them to her side, “I well remember the visit of Lady Catherine to Longbourn, and I swear I would never have believed at the time that any of us would owe our happiness to her!” Elizabeth looked quickly at Darcy’s face, but he was laughing with them and proceeded to declare that Lady Catherine was bound to suffer even more discomfiture very soon, when she discovered, shortly after Christmas, that her nephew James, brother of Colonel Fitzwilliam, was engaged to Miss Rosamund Camden, the daughter of one of Darcy’s neighbours.

  Lizzie and Jane knew nothing of this; Darcy proceeded to explain that the couple had met a year ago when the Fitzwilliams had stayed at Pemberley. “Rosamund is several years older than Georgiana,” Darcy explained, “and a very personable young lady. Naturally, James spent most of the time with her. They have much in common—both coming from similar farming families—and I was not surprised to hear from Fitzwilliam that he was sorry to be missing his brother’s wedding, which he believed would take place at Easter.”

  “And why are you so certain of the effect this will have upon Lady Catherine?” asked Elizabeth, unaware of the ineligibility of Miss Camden as a bride for Darcy’s cousin.

  Darcy smiled, “Because as you well know, my dearest, my aunt likes to manage people’s lives, and she had hoped that James would look favourably in the direction of a certain lady, whom you both know well,” he said, and of course, they demanded to know who it was. “It’s Miss Bingley,” he said quietly. Jane and Lizzie were amazed. “Miss Bingley? Caroline?” they cried, unable to believe their ears.

  Darcy chuckled. “Indeed. Her fortune is twice that of Rosamund Camden’s. She and her sister have been presented at Court and own a valuable house in London, and that would carry more weight with my aunt than almost anything. In addition, Miss Bingley is very deferential to Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh, and that is much appreciated. Indeed, I believe they are at Rosings this Christmas.” Jane testified that this was indeed true. “Well, Lady Catherine will be hoping that Fitzwilliam will soon be joining them, unaware that he is already with the Camdens at Rushmore Farm, near Lambton, which is where Bingley and I are going later today,” said Darcy, obviously enjoying himself in the telling of it.

  “That is indeed as droll a tale as ever I’ve heard,” said Jane, and Lizzie had to agree that her husband had certainly surprised them.

  Bingley, who had been out riding very early, returned as they were finishing breakfast, which ended the conversation, since none of them wished to offend him in any way. He sat down to breakfast, assuring Darcy he would not be late for their ride into Lambton, adding, “I am very keen to see the horses; Fitzwilliam recommended a particularly promising pony.” Lizzie and Jane exchanged glances, but clearly, Darcy had not said a word to his friend of his aunt’s plans for Caroline Bingley!

  After breakfast, the gentlemen set off for Lambton and Rushmore Farm. Lizzie and Jane were immediately drawn by Georgiana into the morning room, where the warmth generated by a crackling fire augmented the rather watery sunshine that struggled through the clouds.

  Unaccustomed to the vagaries of the Northern weather, Jane shivered, and Georgiana, concerned, asked for a shawl to be brought for her. Lizzie, alerted by her husband, had dressed in warmer clothes and seemed comfortable enough but was solicitous of her sister, who did not have a particularly strong constitution.

  Plans for the children’s party were soon on the table. Mrs Reynolds needed to know details of their requirements, so she could instruct the cook, the maids, and the butler. Lizzie was feeling a little tired, when after a couple of hours, they had not got very far with ideas for the entertainment.

  Georgiana wondered if there was something new they could do as everyone was tired of Punch and Judy, and not all the children could be trusted with fireworks. “Do they sing?” asked Elizabeth, suddenly. Both Jane and Georgiana said, “Sing?” looking quite confused.

  “Yes,” said Elizabeth, “after all, it is Christmas, and they could sing Christmas carols.” “Oh Lizzie,” cried Georgiana, “what a wonderful idea!”

  “It’s a lovely idea, Lizzie, but how would they learn them?” asked Jane.

  “W
e shall have to get them together and train them,” said Lizzie.

  “Do you mean like a choir?”

  “Exactly, a children’s choir—the Pemberley Children’s Choir,” said Lizzie. Both Jane and Georgiana were delighted, and immediately, there was a sense of excitement. Mrs Reynolds, who came in to ask if they would like some tea, was requested to provide the names of staff with children who could be taught to sing Christmas carols. A little confused and uncertain at first, she soon got into the spirit of things and provided a dozen or so names. By the time the gentlemen returned, much had been accomplished. Neither could quite believe that a choir of Pemberley children could be trained to sing carols in less than ten days, but they were willing to help the ladies try. From then on, the music room and an adjoining sitting room became a hive of activity, with preparations for the Pemberley Children’s Choir taking precedence over all else. Darcy was particularly pleased to see how well Georgiana worked together with Jane and Elizabeth.

  The staff whose children were to be trained to sing were so delighted they couldn’t do enough to help—many staying on after their work was done to help with costumes and decorations. A stage had to be built at one end of the large room that was always used for the party; Bingley supervised the carpenters, while Mr Darcy organised the transport for the children. They seemed to enjoy singing, but few of them, except for a very young lad with a high sweet voice, had ever been in a choir. Elizabeth played, and Georgiana sang along with them, while Jane plied them with tea and ginger bread, courtesy of the cook. It was hard work, and every so often, Elizabeth wondered what had possessed her to suggest a choir! Then, they would behave and sing like angels, and she knew it was all worthwhile. It was amidst all this activity that a message came from the inn at Lambton that the Gardiners had arrived, with Mary and Kitty, and would be driving up to Pemberley on the following day. The news, which Darcy whispered to Elizabeth in the midst of a rehearsal, immediately lifted her spirits, for there were going to be several more helpers and a few excellent to passable voices among them. That would make a considerable difference to their little choir.