To complete a wonderful day, after everyone had exchanged gifts, they filled the little chapel at Pemberley for Evensong. This time, the choristers were joined by the family and visitors, Mary, Kitty, and the Gardiner children together with the resounding Welsh tenor of Mr Jenkins making the place ring with the loveliest sounds ever heard in this great house. Darcy, standing beside his wife, felt for the first time that he was making his own mark as the Master of Pemberley; with Elizabeth beside him, he was confident this was only the beginning of a new era. Elizabeth sensed his happiness and gently pushed her hand into his to share a moment of tenderness. Bingley and Jane looked across at them, and, catching her sister’s eye, Elizabeth smiled, her felicity there for all to see.
J
On the morning of Boxing Day, the traditional Christmas boxes were handed out to the servants and farm workers of the Pemberley Estate. Darcy’s generosity was now clear, with the very substantial rewards he gave to people who had provided services to the family through the year. Through the day, they were visited by the tenants and their children. Later, Mr Darcy and Georgiana invited Elizabeth to accompany them as they drove out to the far side of the estate to visit two families, who had not been able to attend the Christmas festivities at the house.
In the case of the Lawsons, the father was an invalid—having hurt his back in a farm accident, and the mother had worked for years to bring up their children—one of whom was apprenticed to the Pemberley stables. Georgiana explained to Elizabeth that her brother had always insisted on coming himself to visit them. It being Boxing Day, they brought the usual Christmas box, as well as a hamper of festive fare packed by Mrs Reynolds. Seeing the pleasure this brought to the Lawson family, especially the hardworking wife, reminded Lizzie of the words of Mrs Reynolds praising Darcy’s generosity and his concern for his tenants.
Georgiana showed she was learning valuable lessons from her brother. Her caring and gentle nature was touched by the misfortune of the Lawsons. She spoke sympathetically, without any hint of patronage, to inquire into the needs of the family and, like her brother, seemed ready to provide some practical help. Learning that one of the children was ill with a bad cough, she promised to send a vehicle that afternoon, so the child could be conveyed to the apothecary at Lambton.
That she had made the promise without even consulting her brother suggested to Elizabeth that brother and sister were agreed upon these responsibilities and she didn’t need to seek his approval. It was an indication of the remarkable level of personal responsibility accepted by Mr Darcy for the people on his estate. It was reinforced by their next visit to a very old man, Tom Hobbs, a former horse trainer who had lost a leg in an accident and had lived with the pain and disability for many years.
As Georgiana helped put away the rest of the fare, she talked with his daughter. Elizabeth overheard the girl say, “He cannot stop talking about you and Mr Darcy, Ma’am. He knows how kind you have been to us. It is so good of you to come out in this weather.” Elizabeth recalled again the words of Mrs Reynolds, last Summer. “He is the best landlord and the best Master . . . there is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give him a good name,” she had said.
At the time, they had made allowance for a degree of partiality on her part, because of her long association with the family, but time and again Elizabeth had seen evidence that served to enhance the veracity of the housekeeper’s words. The very genuine concern and kindness in his actions and manner towards the people who lived and worked on the Pemberley Estate were plain for all to see. He made no speeches about it, but the strong sense of responsibility he demonstrated convinced her that her husband was indeed “an excellent man,” as well as being “the best landlord and Master, ever.”
Later, she shared her experiences and feelings with her aunt and sister, as they relaxed in her private sitting room enjoying shortbread and tea. Mrs Gardiner also recalled the words of Mrs Reynolds and added that she had never found it difficult to accept the housekeeper’s praise of Mr Darcy, because it had been more than confirmed by his amazing generosity and single-minded pursuit of Lydia and Wickham. “I realize, Lizzie, that it was all done for love of you, but even so, his general demeanour and his behaviour to your uncle and myself were always so pleasing, so much more genuine than some other gentlemen we have known, that I could not possibly believe him to be other than the best of men,” said Mrs Gardiner, making her niece very happy indeed.
That evening, as the younger members of the party dressed up in masks and costumes for the customary pantomime, the sisters watched their husbands help to set the stage for the performance. Georgiana and Dr Grantley were busy organising the music, and Mrs Gardiner with the help of the maids was putting the finishing touches to the costumes. Jane and Lizzie, who had the task of judging the best performance, sat apart in the alcove at the back of the room. They did not need to say very much; there was such a close understanding between them, they could enjoy the felicity of their situation, without saying a word. Of the success of Elizabeth’s first Christmas at Pemberley, they had no doubt at all.
CHAPTER THREE
A seal upon thine heart
T
HE WEATHER CLOSED IN after Boxing Day and made travelling much more difficult. It was generally acknowledged that staying indoors was the best option, and several activities were organised to keep everyone
entertained. Mary was quite content to spend hours in the library or the music room, oblivious of the weather outside or the people inside the house. The Gardiner children were generally well able to entertain themselves with a range of games, and Kitty was still sufficiently youthful to join in.
Dr Grantley, who was working on a paper on early English church music, was grateful for the assistance that Georgiana could give him, and the two of them spent a great deal of time in the library and the music room, going through the extensive collection, which was the work of many generations of the Darcy family.
Elizabeth spent some time with them and came away fascinated by the extent and variety of the resources available to them at Pemberley. She talked to Darcy about providing a scholarship, perhaps in memory of his mother, for students of music, who may wish to use the library. She was convinced that the treasures of the Pemberley collection could be shared with others who had no opportunity to appreciate them in this way. “It is such an excellent collection, much too valuable to be hidden away,” she declared, adding that Dr Grantley had said that there were students of his at Oxford who could benefit from a visit to the library. Darcy promised to consider it and talk to Dr Grantley.
He was, in fact, quite delighted that his wife, like his mother, had realised the richness and value of the Pemberley heritage. He experienced a twinge of guilt that he had ever doubted Elizabeth’s suitability to be the Mistress of Pemberley. He thrust the thought out with the absolute certainty he now felt about her ability to fill the role with distinction and be an adornment to their family.
J
The following day, a party from Rushmore Farm came to call, in the middle of what could almost be called a blizzard, so blustery and cold was the weather. Though not the best day for entertaining, it did give Elizabeth and Jane an opportunity to meet James Fitzwilliam and Rosamund Camden, who had become engaged at Christmas. Recalling Darcy’s droll tale of Lady Catherine’s vain hope of marrying James off to Caroline Bingley, Jane and Lizzie could not help but wonder at her lack of judgement—for the gentleman was so unlikely to suit Miss Bingley as to make the whole idea ludicrous.
James Fitzwilliam was a solid farmer if ever there was one. He was plain speaking and fairly ordinary in appearance, unthinkable then that a sophisticated and fashionable woman like Miss Bingley would be an appropriate partner for him, in spite of his lineage. Rosamund Camden, on the other hand, seemed a sensible young woman, with sufficient personal style to fill her role, whenever her husband succeeded to his title and estate. Mr and Mrs Gardiner agreed that the couple appeared well-suited and they had no doubt at
all that James Fitzwilliam would not have been making a good marriage had he followed the wishes of his Aunt Catherine, instead of his own heart. Before the Camdens left, an invitation was issued to all at Pemberley to dine at Rushmore Farm the following day.
After days of poor weather, when they had stayed mostly indoors, everyone and especially the children looked forward to the visit to Rushmore Farm, where Bingley promised them they could see the famous horses of the Rushmore Stud. Unfortunately, these plans were disrupted on the following day, when Jane became unwell and quite unable to leave her bed. Mrs Gardiner was determined to stay behind with her. Elizabeth was also reluctant to leave her sister but was persuaded by both Jane and Mrs Gardiner that she ought to accompany her husband.
The evening dragged on for both Elizabeth and Bingley, whose anxiety about Jane could not be concealed. Elizabeth apologised to her hosts for her preoccupation and was persuaded only with difficulty to accompany Caroline and Georgiana on the pianoforte, when they agreed to sing after dinner.
Darcy, realising the extent of her anxiety, had proposed an early departure and they made their excuses to the Camdens. On the short journey home, he tried to reassure her. He knew Jane was not very strong and prone to colds and chills: they recalled her unhappy illness two years ago, during a visit to Netherfield.
On their return to Pemberley, Bingley alighted from the carriage and ran up the stairs to the room where Jane was resting, while Lizzie went in search of her aunt. She found her in the sitting room taking tea and talking with Mrs Reynolds, whose countenance did not suggest that there had been any bad news. Both women smiled as Lizzie rushed in, taking off her cape as she entered. Even before she could speak, Mrs Gardiner stood up and came to her. “Sit down, Lizzie,” said her aunt, seeing her anxious expression, “Jane is going to be quite all right.”
“What did the doctor say?” she asked and seeing her aunt smile, “Do tell me please, what is it?”
Mrs Gardiner spoke gently. “He said what I expected him to say, Lizzie, but I had no right to tell you until the doctor had seen her: your sister Jane is going to have a baby.”
Elizabeth cried out, tears filling her eyes; she leapt up and ran out of the room, ran back in again, hugged her aunt and Mrs Reynolds, and then ran upstairs to her sister’s room. She found Jane sitting up in bed with her husband beside her, both of them looking very happy indeed. The sisters embraced, and there were more tears.
Bingley decided to leave them alone for awhile and went down stairs to give Darcy the good news. They could barely speak for the emotion that welled up in them. “Oh darling Jane, what a wonderful Christmas present!”
“Lizzie, I cannot believe how fortunate I am; I am sorry to have caused all of you so much concern,” said Jane.
“Oh hush, I was concerned that you might have caught a chill in all this bad weather, but my aunt says she expected the doctor’s verdict. I have to say, Jane dearest, I cannot wait to be an aunt.” Lizzie’s voice bubbled over with joy, as her sister reached out and held her hand tight. “We have already decided that Mr Darcy and you are to be godparents,” she said, and Elizabeth was ecstatic.
Darcy was so pleased for Jane and Bingley that Elizabeth felt the tiniest tinge of regret that she had not been able to give him the news herself. Later that night, preparing for bed, she ventured to tease him about being godfather to the Bingley’s child. But he had anticipated her and refused to be teased, saying only that he knew how much it meant to Jane and Bingley and what good parents they would make. “Bingley,” he said, “is very fond of children and will make an excellent father.”
“As I know you would,” said Elizabeth, determined to find out how he really felt. This time, he did as she plainly wished him to, as he took her in his arms and said, “Of course, my dear, when we have our own children, I have no doubt that we shall make excellent parents,” adding with a smile, “I know you will insist upon it.”
On the following Sunday, the weather had cleared sufficiently to enable the Gardiners and Bingleys to leave Pemberley for London and thence to Netherfield Park and Longbourn. Bingley, in particular, had been very reluctant to have his wife put at risk in any way by rough weather and bad roads. Elizabeth had been very touched by the extraordinary care he showed towards her sister.
Parting from both Jane and Mrs Gardiner at once was heart wrenching, and for Lizzie, it was also a realisation that she was now on her own at Pemberley. Without her aunt and sisters, she felt suddenly alone, despite the loving support of her husband and the admiration and affection of her sister-in-law. This prompted her to invite Kitty to stay on while Mary returned home.
“You could stay on until after Father arrives and return to Longbourn in the Spring with him,” she suggested and was a little surprised at the cheerful alacrity with which Kitty accepted, asking only that her mother pack a couple of her favourite dresses and a bonnet, to be sent over with her father’s things when he came to Pemberley. Elizabeth was pleased. She and Jane had only recently discussed the change in Kitty since being separated from Lydia. “Yes, and I do believe if she were to return to Longbourn, our mother will very likely take her North to Newcastle, when she travels there in March,” said Jane, adding, “and all the good work we’ve done will be undone.”
“Indeed it will, and I am sure it will not be in Kitty’s interest to fall in with the type of person with whom Wickham and Lydia are likely to keep company,” observed Lizzie, thinking, as she spoke, that it would never do for their family to have to contend with another catastrophe of the kind visited upon them by Lydia and Wickham.
She could imagine the outrage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and the sneering comments of Caroline Bingley, which would surely sour her own marriage, should such a circumstance arise again. Darcy’s forbearance and generosity of spirit were likely to be sorely tested, and neither he nor Bingley would feel comfortable trying to explain away another faux pas by one of their sisters.
For Kitty’s sake, too, it was far better that she complete her development in the society of people far superior to those her errant sister could provide in Newcastle. Strangely, it seemed Kitty had come to the same conclusion, because she appeared to spend much of her time with Georgiana, actually practising the piano, helping with her music and the Children’s Choir.
Elizabeth wept as she parted from Jane; they had grown even closer together since being married, and the knowledge that Jane would probably not return for the wedding of Rosamund Camden and James Fitzwilliam, later that year, saddened her sister considerably.
Darcy noticed her distress and moved to console both sisters with a promise that they would surely be visiting Netherfield very soon. After many affectionate hugs and kisses and faithful promises to write almost at once, if not sooner, they were gone, leaving a tearful little party on the steps, for even the servants had grown so fond of the lovely Mrs Bingley. With her sweet nature and gentle ways, she was their favourite.
Close behind them, the Gardiners’ carriage, with Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Mary, and the little Gardiners hanging out of the windows, rolled forward, and there were more hugs and tears. When the two carriages had disappeared from sight, Elizabeth turned and found her husband close beside her, took his arm, and went indoors, not even trying to hide her tears.
CHAPTER FOUR
Letters
I
N THE MONTHS THAT followed, many letters flowed between Pemberley, London, Netherfield Park, and Longbourn. Elizabeth had not spent more than a few days before she longed to put pen to paper. In her private sitting
room, overlooking the park, she pondered on all that surrounded her at Pemberley. It was not just the years of tradition and family history or the exquisite treasures of Darcy’s forebears, nor was it the presence of an army of servants and tenant families, who regarded her husband with so much deference and respect, that now flowed through to her. It was much more than that. It was a sense of stability, an environment of elegance and harmony that prevailed throughout, almost defying
the ravages of conflict, to create a pervading atmosphere of tranquillity. It was this same stability she had begun to appreciate in her husband, with his unswerving consistency of behaviour, based upon a high sense of personal honour and responsibility. Combined with the constancy and tenderness of their mutual love and esteem, it was an ideal Elizabeth may only have dared to dream of.
There was no doubt, however, that she was missing her beloved sister. Writing to Jane, she struggled to put her thoughts into words:
I have tried, these many hours, to think how I might best convey to you, my dearest Jane, the sense of loss I feel at your departure from Pemberley. Each night since you and my dear Aunt and Uncle left us, we have sat but a short time at the table after dinner, yet no sooner have we risen and gone upstairs to our sitting room, than we speak longingly of the days just gone and the evenings filled with laughter. Oh Jane, both of us miss you so. Darcy has promised that we will visit you soon, probably when father returns to Longbourn. There is no need for me to tell you how much I look forward to seeing you, again.
Meanwhile, I cannot let you believe that we are all gloom and despondency, for that would be unfair to the efforts of Mr Darcy to engage my interest in a dozen different schemes. Tomorrow, we hope the weather will be as good as it is today, which only means cold and dry, instead of cold and wet, for we are invited to a reception for the Duke of Wellington at the estate of the Earl of Lichfield in Staffordshire. The Duke is being feted for his splendid achievements at Waterloo and elsewhere, now that the war is over. The family at Pemberley has had a long association with the Ansons, whose family are the Earls of Lichfield. Mrs Reynolds has told me that Darcy’s father, who was much loved and respected, was a close friend of the late Earl.
Afterwards, Darcy has promised we shall visit Lichfield, where my dear favourite Doctor Johnson was born, to attend a choral recital at the great Cathedral there. It is a pleasure I should only have dreamed of, dear Jane, and one I shall enjoy all the more knowing that Darcy will share it with me. He has an excellent understanding of music and will often help Georgiana or myself in reading and interpreting some of the new European compositions. This is especially good for me, since my knowledge of music is mostly self taught, as you know, and not particularly extensive. Georgiana and Dr Grantley are to accompany us; although they are not asked to the reception, they will visit the castle and High House at Stafford, while Mr Darcy and I attend the function for the great man. As you know, Dr Grantley has a great interest in Church music, and Georgiana has been helping him with the material in the Pemberley collection, and he is very appreciative of her interest in his work.
The Pemberley Chronicles Page 6