Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  'She said you lived up to your name with your perfect manners.'

  Instead of the 'I told you so' look Anne had expected, Frederick was quite obviously pleased. Another soul won, and if an elderly housekeeper didn't have the right to make threadbare comparisons, who did?

  'Now if I'd had a Mrs Reynolds to raise me, things might have been different.'

  And Anne hadn't a clue whether he meant that or was making fun of the old lady lacking a sense of humour, but by now they had reached the top of the stairs, two flights of them, and were beyond Anne's knowledge of Pemberley.

  Time for some serious exploring, Anne had no idea what to expect.

  'So not one of the regular staff ever comes here?'

  Well behind them, Nick and Simon were having a conversation of their own.

  'That is what Mr Darcy told me, Nick. Apparently our new master wants to try out whether you and I can take care of two married couples abroad. We can, but for the sake of propriety we'd really need a lady's maid as well.

  Though I suppose Fanny will take care of Dora for the time being.'

  'I'm afraid poor Dora will feel very bad about that. She has done so well, never saying anything she shouldn't, but she gets shut out all the time.'

  Nick really felt that, but he obviously hadn't meant either Anne or Frederick to hear. When Frederick turned towards Nick to address his observation the latter almost cringed.

  'I'm sorry, Mr Manners, I know it's not my place to criticise.'

  Seeing her beloved behave like a browbeaten servant hurt Anne almost as much as it did Frederick. He had never given Nick any reason to fear him, he had been nothing but kind and respectful towards the man he regarded as a kind of fiancée, like Anne did Simon. But she couldn't blame Nick either, he had grown immensely the last few days under the constant attention of such superior company, but he was still at the mercy of others, and one couldn't just lay aside years of servitude as if it were a garment no longer needed.

  As gently as he would approach a skittish horse, Frederick now addressed

  Nick, hiding his disappointment as only an English gentleman could hide his feelings.

  'I know we're not being fair to Dora, Nick. If I promise to make it up to her will you believe me?'

  'I'm sorry, Frederick, I suppose I'm a bit overwhelmed by all this, I don't know what came over me. I felt very small all of a sudden. You've always been kindness itself to me and I react as if you're about to box my ears.'

  'Fair is fair, I do remember clouting the very breath out of you, Nick.'

  Good, Frederick had his sense of humour back, that was the way to handle poor Nick.

  But Nick didn't find it funny, he hung his head and looked altogether helpless and therefore irresistible. Anne practically threw herself at him, and as his strong arms closed around her she could feel his body strung like a wire, and not with heat.

  'Let's go exploring, I've been here only rarely myself,' Simon said, ignoring the whole situation. Frederick looked as if he was going to protest, he wanted to talk about what happened, he wanted to be liked, not feared, but Nick just wasn't up to it anymore today. He needed a little time to adjust, and Simon knew. Showing the three of them, including Nick, that he was not always bossy and in control, Frederick did accede to Simon's suggestion. Simon in front, Frederick right on his heels, and Anne holding hands with Nick, they started with the hall to their left, trusting to Simon to show them the way.

  Chapter 2

  Mrs Reynolds, or rather Mrs Eliot, her temporary replacement, must have hired extra staff to clean the entire second floor, for whichever room Georgiana and Eric explored, they were all specklessly clean. Bare, certainly, the old-fashioned oak-panelled walls looked dreary without the occasional picture or some other form of decoration, and the windows were like gaping holes without even the simplest of hangings. But there was potential here, Fitzwilliam had excellent taste in decorating but somehow it was all so modern. This floor practically breathed history, and Georgiana couldn't wait to hunt for fabrics and decorations as well as suitable furniture. Not from the same period as the rooms themselves, that would be depressing, the few

  chairs and tables remaining and those cabinets too heavy to move out were solid chunks of massive wood, making the gloom even more oppressive.

  No, they'd find lighter chairs and tables, not so much in colour as in build.

  She didn't mind the dark wood, it had a nice old feel, but she wanted the furniture to be a lot more elegant. It didn't matter whether it was older or more recent than the rooms themselves, she knew what she liked and she'd choose that. Hopefully there would be some really flimsy fabrics for curtains, to make the whole a bit less solid. It would take a lot of work to make the rooms habitable, but it would be fun. Already she felt the strain of the last weeks slipping away, and judging by Eric's demeanour it wasn't much different for him. It was a perfect moment to take a little break from exploring, or rather, to explore something different. Eric seemed to have had the same idea for he took his brand-new wife in his arms, and they kissed passionately. There was no opportunity to take things further but they went as far as they could, counting on being disturbed sooner or later.

  And of course they were, not by servants but by their party of friends, a welcome sight to Georgiana for now they could actually choose which rooms to use.

  'It's just as I remembered, terribly gloomy. The panelling must have cost a fortune in oak and walnut, but it's gloomy nonetheless. Did you find anything remotely suitable?'

  Simon was totally at home here and as familiar as he'd ever been whenever they were in private, but poor Fowler seemed very much impressed by Pemberley's magnificence.

  'I think we did, quite a few, actually. They are large, and some have a door connecting them, like our apartment in town. And we won't have to strip a room for the piano, they're totally bare now.'

  Of course Eric mainly cared about his piano. Their piano, for it had been as much Georgiana's present, and she planned to play it a lot.

  They now continued their explorations together, and finally found a room large enough to serve as their headquarters, where they would plan their journey and teach and learn. Like all the other rooms on this floor it had a relatively low ceiling, and the naturally dark wood panelling reached from floor to ceiling, where these days it was more common to have panelling to waist height, painted in a neutral colour, with decorated wall paper above it.

  The room was very clean and this time it wasn't completely bare, a huge rectangular table stood right in the middle of it, with ten matching chairs. It

  was perfect for poring over maps, however had it gotten there? It was solid and fit the room really well, but somehow Georgiana was convinced it was not contemporary with the room itself, it was much too elegant for that. And what would its original use have been? Then it struck her: Fitzwilliam had ordered it made for them! But he couldn't have, the time was too short. So he'd probably sent someone to the local craftspeople to find a table like this already made, and this was what that person came up with. It was magnificent, and just what they needed.

  'Your brother has outdone himself, dear Georgiana. Just look at that magnificent table, if that isn't brand new I'm very much mistaken. How does he do it, arrange things on such short notice? I cannot wait to spend our evenings sitting at that table. And what about our bedrooms, shall we choose them close to this room? Simon and I would like to have adjoining rooms with one of those doors between them.'

  Georgiana supposed no-one would think anything of that, but if Anne and Nick were to do that the cleaning maids might talk. Though Anne could leave the key on her own side.

  'Let's take a look at what rooms are available on this side of the second floor.

  I'm certain we'll find the right ones.'

  And they all did, Anne and Frederick choosing adjoining rooms, with their partners on the other side. Georgiana had to admit that Anne had made the right choice, Nick was proving himself an excellent companion. Though the
y had seen little of either him and Anne during their four days of travel, when they did all get together for dinner in some quaint little inn it was obvious they had used the long hours of transportation well, for his accent was much reduced and he used hardly any coarse expressions at all anymore. Maybe he did not have the natural sensibility Eric had, Georgiana was convinced her beloved husband would have grown up a gentleman even in the backstreets of London, though that probably just proved how much she loved him, at least Nick was polite and kind, and she was certain he'd get over his servility if they all treated him fairly.

  He and Simon had a very practical view on how to get the necessary furniture down from the attics in time for them to get settled before nightfall, and their little group of six was as close and as comfortable as it had been with five.

  But then it was time to have lunch, and it was obvious Nick was not feeling comfortable at all with his role between servant and partner to a lady.

  'Come, Nick, it's time you get to know the Pemberley staff, notably Mrs

  Reynolds. Though Mr Hugo is also quite a character, I'm afraid you won't recognise him once he's back, he's very much in charge here. Of course we're visiting staff, they have no say over us, I'm looking forward very much to making use of that privilege.'

  Simon's easy way of speaking helped Nick immensely, and his face cleared altogether. Georgiana had heard what had happened to him in the Blackwood household, and she could imagine he'd feel much safer with Simon around to introduce him to a lot of strangers.

  'You're not lunching with us?' Anne asked, disappointed.

  Now her man showed his true spirit, taking her in his arms gently, kissing her throat and face with so much love.

  'I'm sorry, Anne, but that was never an option. We're staff, we're not supposed to mingle with the genteel folk. Mr Darcy is very kind to let us stay on this side of the house at all. But Simon and I will have each other, just like you and Frederick will be together. Don't worry, I'll be fine.'

  And he would be, probably more so than he would be dining with the family.

  Georgiana would be very much surprised if a man like Nick had any table manners. Though he would have to learn them if they wanted Simon and him to be true gentlemen abroad. Oh well, that was what Fitzwilliam's huge present was for. They could dine up here sometimes, they could even have a few people over, like Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, and maybe Mr Bennet, who according to Elizabeth knew a lot more than he let them believe.

  It was so good to be back! Of course there were the usual pleasantries to be exchanged with those of the staff that were present to receive them, but that was as it should be, they were not on their way through this time, they were going to stay. Mrs Reynolds was looking much better, though the elderly Mrs Eliot was still present to perform most of the housekeeper's duties.

  Fortunately the weather was relatively fine, it would do Mrs Reynolds good, and it would enable them to start rambling and riding immediately.

  Georgiana and Eric had disappeared right after their arrival, and the others had soon followed, but not before Frederick had charmed Mrs Reynolds, of course.

  'You seem very pleased to have returned, Mrs Darcy, and yet you were so much admired in London.'

  'You have no idea, Mrs Reynolds,' Fitzwilliam observed smugly, 'she even had the Prince of Wales at her feet.'

  And he told the ladies about her visit to Carlton House, leaving Prince George's improper proposal out of the conversation of course. Elizabeth was glad to hear him proud of her instead of keeping a hurt silence about it. But now she wanted to see her new horse, and then maybe spend some time in their private rooms. Travelling with friends was entertaining, but they´d had so little private time for months, she was really planning to catch up as much as possible.

  'We didn't read anything about your visit in the papers, Mrs Darcy,' Mrs Eliot dared suggest.

  Did that mean they doubted it had really happened? Imagining what an article would have said had a reporter seen her being returned by the Prince himself in his private phaeton, way past midnight, Elizabeth could not but smile in relief.

  'I suppose a few hours' visit in the afternoon to a private occasion they couldn't attend doesn't rate an article, Mrs Eliot. Besides, we used Mr Manners' team and he is out and about all the time, maybe they didn't realise it was us going to Carlton House.'

  After a short description of Carlton House and the Heir Presumptive himself and the fabulous sweets he served his guests they took their leave and went straight to the stables, it was of little use to wash before petting a horse after all.

  Crossing the front lawn, her beloved took her arm in his and kissed her right behind her ear. A shiver ran through her, she knew what he wanted and she couldn't wait herself. But first she'd meet his magnificent present and maybe say hello to Peter and the rest of the stable-boys.

  'Did you mind my mentioning your visit to the Prince of Wales and his liking you so much?'

  'Actually, I'm glad you view it exactly for what it was: a fun visit to a beautiful house and kind people. Nothing more and nothing less. I'm glad you're not jealous.'

  'I was, very much so, when you didn't return.'

  'Not towards me, you weren't, my love. Nor to the Prince. When I came back you were merely very happy.'

  'I had to use Bob's advice when he talked to you like that, I imagined riding my favourite horse, that always seems to make me very mellow.'

  'It was something to be proud of anyway, my love. You've shown admirable restraint, even towards Wickham, and he is not a powerful man, you need not

  fear angering him.'

  'I still hate him, though. I hope we'll never have to see him again. Though I'm not in any way jealous of him, not anymore. I know you feel nothing for him but kind concern.'

  Was this the right moment? When Fitzwilliam had just confirmed he truly hated Wickham? Elizabeth was looking forward to solving the mystery of Wickham's parentage, and though she feared Fitzwilliam's reaction it was not because she was afraid of him, she was merely afraid to make him unhappy.

  But Frederick was right, she could not keep a secret from her beloved, he'd notice she was keeping things to herself and imagine the worst.

  'Fitzwilliam? There is something about Wickham I have been meaning to talk to you about.'

  His reactions was not hopeful. He stopped in his tracks and looked at her with concern and even a little apprehension.

  'I could sense you'd had some kind of row, but then you were nice to him.

  Not too nice, exactly right for your relationship as brother and sister.'

  'There is no love lost between Wickham and myself, he cannot seem to stop trying to impose on my feelings. Well, actually he used to, I've settled him for good. But that is not the point, it's something that goes way back, before we even met, before I was even born.'

  'You mean to say you weren't but that I had been? It happened in the years that we were good friends, Wickham and I?'

  'You're not that much older than I am. No, this happened when you were a little boy.'

  Nothing for it but to blurt it out, there was no way to bring this diplomatically.

  'Your uncle Spencer and I agree that Wickham may be your illegitimate half-brother. I'd like to try to find out whether there was anything more than a steady friendship between your father and his mother.'

  Fitzwilliam's expression of pain, shock and disgust exceeded anything she had expected. If she had known he'd take it so badly she would probably have refrained from mentioning it. She did not want to hurt her idol, her beloved!

  She did not want to risk losing his respect!

  After a long, long, painful silence he took her in his arms and rested his head on hers in defeat.

  'Damned useless jackass!'

  What had she done? Her calm, collected beloved reduced to venting his

  feelings in terms they had been trying to wean Nick away from?

  'All my life he has been dodging my steps, envying me everything I shared with
him and would have shared with him, trying to steal my father away from me, and my sister and even my wife! And still I have had to bear him in my life, exert myself to further his career when I'd just as soon see him drop dead or at least disappear from my notice forever. And now you tell me he may be my half-brother? And uncle Spencer supports your belief? Does he know? Does Wickham know?'

  So it was possible to feel a twinge of fear towards the person one loved more than oneself. Fitzwilliam was no longer beat, but intensely angry and he was frightening. Towering over her he held her so firmly it almost hurt, and his usually cold and detached anger seemed to burn instead, making it all the more real. But Elizabeth was not going to let her own foolishness ruin their bond, and she forced herself to look at him and reply calmly and with a steady voice.

  'I don't think he does, no. And your uncle told me your mother had her suspicions.'

  'No, indeed, he doesn't know, or he would have tried to use his knowledge against me long before now.'

  The anger was gone, just like that, and his head was back against hers, his grip loosened.

  'My poor mother. And I never had a clue, I worshipped my father.'

  He took her face in both his large hands, but very gently, very tenderly. Then he kissed her softly on her lips.

  'I'm sorry, my love, I frightened you, didn't I? Hurt you even? I love you more than anyone, I shouldn't have let the very mention of George Wickham make me fly in a rage like that. And taking it out on you is downright despicable. I asked you to tell me everything you had on your mind, and that is what you did. I should be grateful to you for respecting my wishes. Please forgive me.'

  And Elizabeth was glad he felt that way, she had been frightened for a few seconds, she loved him so much that to see him beside himself was absolutely terrifying. But to admit this would only make him feel even more guilty, so she gripped his neck instead and pulled his face down towards her to be able to kiss him and whisper in his ear, 'Don't be so hard on yourself, my love. You have every right to hate Wickham, and he need never know you two may be related by blood. And you may very well not be, apparently