The Pemberley Chronicles

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  J

  When Elizabeth and Jane came down to breakfast the following morning, the clouds that had threatened sleet or snow all of the previous day had been blown away overnight by great gusts of wind. The gardeners were out early, clearing away the debris, piles of fallen leaves and shattered branches, which lay all over the park. A very pale sun struggled above the horizon.

  Darcy and Bingley returned from their early ride, and Mrs Reynolds was quick to produce fresh pots of tea and hot food for the gentlemen, who were coming in from the cold. Jane and Lizzie had already commented with some amusement at the way in which the men of the household were thoroughly spoilt by the staff. Having grown up in a house full of women, where their father spent a good deal of time trying to keep out of the way of the womenfolk, they found the situation at Pemberley quite diverting. Jane thought it was probably the result of Mrs Reynolds taking on the care of the children when their mother died. Lizzie suggested it was more a mutual admiration society, because the servants felt that lavishing attention on their wonderful Master and his sister was their appointed role, while the Master and his sister would wonder how they would ever get on without the help of their staff. “Oh Lizzie,” Jane protested, “I do believe you are too harsh; besides, I cannot see any harm in it.”

  “Nor can I, but you must admit, it is the relationship of mutual dependence that holds them together so well. I cannot see a similar situation at Longbourn, could you?” Jane confessed that it did not seem likely and added that while the servants at Bingley’s house in Grosvenor Street were most efficient and attentive, they did not appear to have the same familial attitude that existed at Pemberley. It must have something to do with being in the country, she thought.

  Elizabeth did not entirely agree but kept her counsel, not wishing to offend or hurt her beloved Jane by pointing out that, grand though Mr Bingley’s house was, it was not Pemberley, where generations of servants had served the Darcy family. While the servants at Grosvenor Street had been hired for their excellence, those at Pemberley had been mostly born into service, and loyalty was their strongest suit. There was certainly no suggestion that Darcy and Georgiana had any reservations about the staff, and they appeared content to leave most of the management of the household to Mrs Reynolds. Mr Darcy had urged Elizabeth to instruct the housekeeper about arrangements for the Christmas guests. Mrs Reynolds herself had, on the day after they’d arrived home, apologised for troubling her but asked if Elizabeth had any special instructions for the meals. Content to leave things in her capable hands for the moment, Elizabeth had thanked Mrs Reynolds but pointed out that since she had plans already in hand, Elizabeth would not want to make changes. However, perhaps in the New Year, after she had got accustomed to the way things were done, she might wish to make some suggestions. The happy smile on the housekeeper’s face convinced her that she had said absolutely the right thing.

  It was midmorning, when the sound of horse’s hooves and carriage wheels on the gravelled drive attracted Jane and Lizzie to the windows of the upstairs sitting room. No sooner did they see the Gardiners, than they ran downstairs to greet them. The servants were helping the travellers out and unloading their trunks, when Lizzie and Jane embraced their aunt and uncle, the young Gardiners, and their younger sisters, Mary and Kitty, whom they had not seen since their wedding in October. Kitty was especially tearful, having missed her two elder sisters terribly, while Mary had so many books and manuscripts with her, she appeared to have come prepared for long periods of study and practise on the piano.

  Darcy was already out greeting Mr and Mrs Gardiner and welcoming them back to Pemberley. Elizabeth did not doubt that they would all have recalled the last occasion when they had stood there together. How much had changed since then; she caught her aunt’s eye, and they smiled.

  It was left to Mrs Reynolds to persuade everyone to come indoors and enjoy the warmth of a fire and tea in the morning room. Georgiana, who had been practising in the music room, came out to join them, and the halls of Pemberley, which had been so quiet a mere half hour ago, were filled with many voices, including those of the four young Gardiners.

  Caroline Gardiner, who was meeting Georgiana for the first time after the weddings of Jane and Lizzie, was delighted to be asked to help with the choir. After tea, Mrs Gardiner went upstairs with her nieces to take a look at their rooms, unpack her presents, and enjoy a long conversation with her favourite young women. This time, she had good news for them. Their mother was feeling much better, and was planning to go North to Newcastle to Lydia and Wickham, who were expecting their first child in Spring. Jane and Elizabeth gave silent thanks that they were not at Longbourn to share in their mother’s enthusiastic and expensive preparations for the birth of her first grandchild.

  More news, this time from the Lucas household: it appeared that Charlotte’s sister, Maria Lucas, was being courted by the new doctor at Meryton. “Maria Lucas!” cried Jane, “but she is younger than Kitty.”

  “Only by a few months,” said Lizzie, “but nevertheless, this is a surprise. How did it come about?”

  “Apparently, Lady Lucas was unwell and sent for Mr Jones the apothecary, who happened to be away visiting his daughter. In his stead came a young man recently arrived in Meryton, a Dr John Faulkner, a physician, who has set up his practice in the town.” Mrs Gardiner explained, and seeing that her nieces were agog for more, she went on, “Of course, young Maria Lucas was on hand to assist her mother and to offer Dr Faulkner tea afterwards.”

  “Is that all?” Lizzie sounded disappointed, but her aunt had more to tell. “Your mother tells me that he has visited Lady Lucas four times in the last fortnight, and Hill has heard from the Lucases’ cook that he spends most of his visit, having tea and walking in the conservatory with young Miss Maria.”

  “No doubt Mama is very vexed,” quipped Lizzie “that Kitty has not been preferred by the new doctor.”

  “But Kitty is not likely to be planning to catch herself a suitor, however much mama might wish it,” said Jane. Mrs Gardiner agreed, saying Kitty had seemed quite unfussed by her friend Maria’s achievement, except to say “Dr Faulkner was much less boring than Mr. Collins!” “So it seems Kitty approves of Maria’s choice,” said Jane, to which Lizzie added that it was hardly Maria’s choice; more likely Dr Faulkner had done the choosing.

  Their aunt decided she had to stop her nieces from having young Miss Lucas married off to the Doctor in the next few minutes. “Now, let us not run on so fast, my dears, there is not even talk of an engagement as yet—much less a wedding,” she warned, and Lizzie laughed.

  “Yes, and we know one cannot count on these romances always turning out as one might expect. But I do not want you to think that I don’t wish young Maria well. She is a very pleasant girl, and I do hope she is happy.” Jane and Mrs Gardiner agreed, and the conversation was closed abruptly as they were interrupted by Emily and Caroline who came to say luncheon was on the table.

  Later, the children came to rehearse their concert of carols, and what a delight it was for the visitors. When they had run through the chosen carols— mostly of old English vintage—and been heartily applauded by their audience of family and servants, Elizabeth and Georgiana invited the four Gardiner children to join them.

  Ranging from ten year old Caroline and Emily, who was seven, to Richard and Robert, who were six and four, they could all sing and made a spectacular contribution to the volume and quality of the choir. Mary was happy to assist with the accompaniment and so released Elizabeth to sit with her guests, while Kitty was totally engrossed with making appropriate Christmas hats for the children. Mrs Gardiner suggested the older children hold little candles, a European custom she had found appealing, while on a visit to France.

  Later, after hot chocolate and cake had been duly consumed, Georgiana persuaded Caroline to try a solo carol, and they chose the gentle Virgin’s Lullaby, which almost had the listeners in tears. The excellent work done by the ladies received much praise, while Mr Dar
cy had never looked happier.

  J

  Christmas Eve dawned cold and bright.

  After breakfast, everyone who wanted to got rugged up and went into the woods to collect boughs of fir, pine cones, and holly for decorating the rooms and the stage. The younger members of the family enjoyed this part of the preparations most and spent all afternoon making garlands to hang across the windows.

  Shortly before lunch, a carriage arrived, bringing Dr Grantley, who apologised for being late but assured everyone he was willing and ready to help, “I’ll do anything,” he offered, and Lizzie, seeing poor Jane and Georgiana working very hard in the music room, sent him along to help them. With everyone pressed into service, the house hummed. Bingley and Darcy wandered in and out of the rooms, amazed at the activity. Darcy swore he could not recall an occasion when there was so much going on at Pemberley.

  By late afternoon, everything was in readiness. The children had all been fetched and costumed like little choristers. The fires burned brightly and burnished all the dark oak and copper as well as the glowing red berried garlands around the walls and over the windows.

  By six o’clock, the room had filled with guests and neighbours, and when the children walked in carrying their candles, there were gasps of surprise. Their glowing faces and sparkling eyes told of their excitement.

  Jane, Elizabeth, and Georgiana shepherded them into place, and then, Dr Grantley read the story of Christmas from the Bible. It was the perfect touch, suggested by Georgiana and gladly carried out by Dr Grantley. When the singers began, a little nervously at first, but stronger and sweeter by the minute, the tears in the eyes and the smiles on the faces of the audience told the story. The parents of the children of the estate ranged from yeoman farmers to grooms, maids, and gardeners. Never before had they seen their children afforded such an opportunity as this to participate in the festivities at Pemberley. When it was known, mainly through Jenny and Mrs Reynolds, that it was all Mrs Darcy’s doing, her popularity among them soared. When they broke for an intermission, to allow the little voices some rest, Elizabeth came over to Darcy who was sitting with the Gardiners. She had wanted reassurance that it was proceeding well; what she got was adulation from everyone around her. Elizabeth glowed, and Mr Darcy could barely contain his joy. If Mrs Gardiner needed any proof of the success of this match, for which she and her husband felt partly responsible, she had it there in front of her as Darcy reached across and took Elizabeth’s hand and said, “I cannot honestly remember a happier Christmas Eve, since I was a boy.”

  When they went upstairs, Elizabeth embraced her aunt. “If it had not been for you, I may never have come to Pemberley last Summer, never have met him again in such happy circumstances, and never found the happiness we have today,” she said. Mrs Gardiner had never doubted that Jane and Bingley would have a felicitous union, for they were both so similar, so attuned to each other, that it was not difficult to imagine them making a harmonious marriage. With Lizzie and Darcy, it was more complex: they were both strong characters, with high standards and high expectations; she had, despite her love for both of them, worried that their very strength could lead, even unwittingly, to tension and unhappiness. Seeing them in London some weeks ago, she had been very impressed with the promise of maturity in their relationship. Seeing them at Pemberley together confirmed her hopes. Here indeed was the happiest couple she had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She could only pray that their future would be as blessed as the present.

  Later, Darcy and Mr Gardiner joined them. Sensing the unspoken query in Lizzie’s eyes, Darcy explained that Jane and Mr Bingley had sat down with Georgiana and Dr Grantley to a game of whist. “Whist!” exclaimed both ladies together, unable to believe that anyone had sufficient energy left at the end of this day for a game of whist.

  “Indeed,” said Darcy, “a somewhat merrier version of it than usual.”

  “I was just saying to Mr Darcy how well Lizzie and Miss Darcy have done in putting together the entertainment this evening. No one would believe that most of the children had never sung in a choir before,” said Mr Gardiner.

  Darcy agreed enthusiastically and, putting an arm around his wife, said, “I am very proud of them, especially Lizzie, whose idea it was. I have never enjoyed a better Christmas Eve, and what’s more, my dear, Dr Grantley is so impressed, he has asked that they sing when he takes Evensong in the chapel, tomorrow.”

  Lizzie and Mrs Gardiner were delighted. “Now that is an honour, indeed. Knowing the reputation of the choir of St John’s, I must say it is very kind of Dr Grantley,” said Lizzie, adding that the four young Gardiners had made a vital contribution to the success of the evening. The Gardiners gently disengaged themselves on the pretext of getting their lively children to bed. Darcy and Elizabeth smiled and did not try to keep them from going. Much as they loved the Gardiners, it was the first time in almost twenty-four hours that they had found themselves alone together, and the pleasure was as sweet as it was unexpected.

  J

  A light snowfall overnight created a picture book Christmas scene as the family and guests went to church in the village below the Pemberley Estate, where Dr Grantley joined the resident curate, Mr Jenkins, in conducting the service. The little church was full with the young “choristers” sitting together at the front. The singing was sweet and strong. Elizabeth was delighted to hear the voices of the children in natural harmony. Exchanging glances with Mrs Gardiner and her husband, she vowed to carry on the Pemberley Children’s Choir, “We’ll make a tradition that Pemberley will be proud of,” she thought, as she listened.

  Later, the young curate congratulated her, “I’ve never had such fine singing here before, Mrs Darcy. I believe we have you to thank.”

  Elizabeth blushed. “Oh no, Mr Jenkins, many people including Miss Darcy and my sister Mrs Bingley helped. And ultimately, it was the children themselves; they were so keen to learn to sing.”

  “Well, it looks to me we could have the beginnings of a proper choir at Pemberley,” said Mr Jenkins, who was Welsh and heir to a fine tradition of choral singing.

  “I think we should build on this excellent foundation,” Elizabeth agreed, and her husband added, “I think you have started something here, my dear.” They invited Mr Jenkins to join them at Pemberley for Evensong that night and stay to supper, an invitation that was readily accepted by the young clergyman.

  Christmas dinner was a splendid feast. Mrs Reynolds excelled herself, and the cook had produced delectable dishes of game and poultry prepared in the traditional style, as well as a range of side and corner dishes to tempt the palate on a cold afternoon. Punch and mulled wine were served before, and hock and claret accompanied the courses, until finally Christmas pudding and a festive centrepiece of fresh fruit and syllabub, with small bowls of nuts and preserved ginger, were placed on the uncovered table.

  Elizabeth was so pleased, she thanked Mrs Reynolds and asked to be taken to the kitchen so she could thank the staff and especially the cook for the splendid meal. No previous Mistress had done such a thing. The staff was surprised and gratified at the gesture and thanked Mrs Darcy for her appreciation. It was clear that she had made an excellent debut at Pemberley.

  The festive mood seemed to affect everyone—as the diners rose and proceeded to the music room to sing and play, while the children played Hunt the Slipper and Hide and Seek—their voices ringing through the halls and corridors of the house. The often awesome atmosphere of the stately building was lightened with an infusion of fun overlaying generations of formality and tradition.

  Darcy, too, appeared to have shed the shyness that masqueraded as a serious and taciturn disposition and revealed a whole new aspect of his nature. His hospitality and concern for his guests were impeccable and moreover, were warm and sincere. Jane, tiring a little of entertaining the children, came over to where Elizabeth sat, a little apart from the company. “You seem tired, Lizzie,” she said, as she sat down beside her.

  Lizzie nodded but ad
ded, “Yes, but, oh so happy, Jane . . . I cannot believe that a year ago we were all so sad and despondent.” Jane smiled as only the truly contented woman can and said, “I know exactly how you feel, Lizzie. Mr Bingley and I have noticed how much Mr Darcy has changed—he is so much more sociable; he does not seem to stand apart as he used to before. We are quite sure it is all due to you, Lizzie. He is happier and therefore more at ease with everyone. Bingley is very pleased.” Elizabeth smiled and wondered at the perceptive comments of her sister; she knew in her heart that Jane was right but was reluctant to accept all the credit for herself. She hastened to say that Darcy had always been amiable and had no improper pride; his shyness and uncertainty of acceptance had led to a reputation for hauteur, which was, for the most part, undeserved. Jane put an arm around her, “I have no need to be convinced of this, dear Lizzie, Mr Bingley has always told me that his friend was the best of men, and I know you would not have accepted him if it were not so.”

  Afterwards, Georgiana came to sit with her; as they watched Darcy move among the guests, she said, “Lizzie, I cannot tell you what a lovely Christmas this has been,” and spoke with such warmth and sincerity that Elizabeth had to believe this was more than a polite expression of thanks. “I have no memory of enjoying myself so much, and I am sure that my brother feels the same. You only have to look at him to see how happy he is. Lizzie, it is all due to you, and I am so very grateful.” Elizabeth coloured with pleasure and some embarrassment; she had not expected all these compliments, and much as she enjoyed the appreciation, it troubled her a little to accept so much praise. Darcy, seeing them together, came across and put his arms around them both and hugged them in full view of everyone. It left no one in any doubt that the Master of Pemberley was having his happiest Christmas in many years.