Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  his father kept Mrs Wickham away from the master of the house.'

  'No, my dearest Elizabeth, I'm afraid my uncle isn't like his big sister Catherine at all, he does not tell anything but the absolute truth. If he says my mother told him she knew my father cheated on her, and that she suspected he had sired his steward's wife's child, I believe him. My father may even have known, hiding it to protect his name and his estate. He always loved George more than he loved me, I knew that, and in time I started to resent George for it. Which young man wouldn't have?'

  'And yet you were good friends for quite a long time?'

  'We were, and I could understand why my father loved him, he was much more likeable than I ever was. I loved George, too. Until he started to show signs of his moral weakness and lack of restraint, and hid them from my father. Again, I'm sorry for my reaction, my love, you couldn't help it at all. I need a little time to come to terms with this, what to do with it.'

  'I don't think your mother really knew, she merely suspected. It's still merely a suspicion and any proof has most likely been lost. You can easily forget about it, my love.'

  'And I may decide to do that. So you're not angry with me? I couldn't stand to fall out with you over bloody Wickham!'

  She looked up at him with surprise at his language, and he laughed and hugged her so tightly she nearly squealed. But she was glad to find him back to reason, and relieved to have told him. Frederick had been right, this was the right thing to do, if it hurt Fitzwilliam so much to know that the man he detested might have been his father's son as well as his favourite, they should not attempt to clear up the case. It wouldn't change anything, Fitzwilliam was the elder, and illegitimate sons did not inherit. Even Mr Richard Darcy hadn't wanted his legal heir to miss out, though he had not known how badly his terrible example had led the younger astray. If Wickham was indeed his son, Elizabeth still doubted, Fitzwilliam did overrate his uncle's surety. But at least he was back to a good humour.

  'Come, let's find your new horse, and maybe listen to Peter gushing over it, and over his missus, and his son. Maybe we should take some time soon to explore the attics of the barns, where we keep the hay. Who knows when we'll make ourselves a baby, and I'd like him or her to grow up a sensible person, with an eye for those depending on him. Having been conceived in a haystack should give our child a suitable start in life, much better than a hardwood bed covered with satin and down.'

  Shaking her head over his funny but coarse observation, Elizabeth took his offered hand and followed her beloved husband across the large stable yard, ending up in a brand-new set of paddocks behind the large stables that housed the carriages.

  'What do you think? I was so impressed with Mr Miller's paddocks I wanted some myself, watching the thoroughbreds frisking and grooming I just knew they needed some space to move and the chance to touch their own kind, even more than we do. My steward has been a very busy man, arranging the construction of these and preparing a little welcome surprise for Georgiana and the other explorers.'

  'The paddocks are beautiful, just look at the horses being together like that.

  You had them built after we came back from Newcastle? And you got Georgiana a present? That is what changed my feelings towards you, my love, hearing from Mrs Reynolds how good a brother you were to dear Georgiana.'

  'Imagine Mrs Reynolds saving my life without even realising it.'

  He kissed her, not caring which stable hand might see them.

  'It's not just for Georgiana, though, I had Nathan find a huge table with plenty of chairs for the lot of them to spread out their maps on to pore over and maybe dine together sometimes. You know they may yet succeed in civilising Fowler, but a gentleman is not solely a well-dressed man who uses the King's English and refrains from crudity.'

  'You like him! Don't deny it, I can see it in your eyes! But you know, Mr Hurst doesn't have the best table-manners either.'

  'And he is from a respectable family though I admit it doesn't always show.

  I've known a lot of gentlemen who were less-than-true gentlemen in more ways than one. Ladies, too, I'm afraid. Maybe Fowler is an improvement on Mr Hurst, he makes a lot more sense, anyway, and so does Simon. As does Nathan, who managed to find this unique present within a week. I'm sure you'll get to see it before the day is done. But now I cannot wait to show you your new hunter, according to Mrs Norman he is the sweetest horse ever.

  Come!'

  And he practically pulled her over to one of the paddocks, where three sturdy horses immediately gathered to greet them. A fourth held back, and Elizabeth was a bit overwhelmed to see that horse looking so much like Colonel Drummond's Bucephalus that they might have been brothers. Except for their attitude, which Elizabeth guessed might be the reason Fitzwilliam even dared

  suggest she trust her life to this one, for there was no doubt in her mind that the stunning light bay horse too shy to push himself forward to get his share of the attention was her very own hunter.

  He was elegant, much more so than any horse she'd ever seen besides said Bucephalus and their own thoroughbreds. He was slightly smaller than the three he shared a paddock with, and Elizabeth guessed he was not that much taller than Daisy. His legs were long and slim, his midnight black mane and tail were long but not particularly full, his forehead significantly broader than the lower part of his face, which was rather narrow from the front and slightly concave in profile, the single marked difference that separated his face from that of his feisty copy Bucephalus. He was a beautiful horse, and though his muscular body promised speed and stamina, his dark eyes were soft and gentle.

  'He looks just like Bucephalus, Fitzwilliam. Are you certain he is not too much for me to handle? Bucephalus tested even your riding skills.'

  'He looks a lot like him, I admit, and he is as sensitive, but he lacks Bucephalus' strong will. A stallion wants to be master of everything, this gelding will mind you as easily as Daisy ever did. He may be slightly less stolid, but he is certainly not fearful. Mrs Norman suspects there is quite a bit of Arabian blood in this one, he is hardier than most of the other horses she has ridden and she is used to the best hunters. The concave profile and the way he carries his head and tail seem to support that theory. Arabians are often smaller and slimmer than English horses, and they are sensitive to people but not so much to their environment, they don't shy easily if they trust their rider. I suspect his breeder made a mistake allowing too much Arabian blood in his line, causing this horse to stay smaller and slimmer than an English gentleman likes to see his hunters. But his loss is your gain, my love, if you manage to win his trust he will give you everything he has, and that is a lot. Let's go in and make our acquaintance, I haven't handled him either.'

  They closed the gate behind them, the other horses soon accepting they were not the centre of attention today. Once they were back to minding their own business, the new horse approached the two of them and carefully examined their offered hands and even their clothes.

  As soon as Elizabeth thought it was all right to touch him she could feel his soft nose exploring her hands, and smell the typical scent of a horse, a smell she had gotten used to quickly once she and Fitzwilliam had come to an

  agreement. He still smelled slightly of horse most of the time, though she supposed she did, too, despite regular washing. They generally rode together, after all, and Fitzwilliam was as fastidious as she was with changing riding breeches and coats after exercising their horses.

  'Does he have a name?' she asked, suspecting he hadn't or she would have heard it by now. Though Fitzwilliam never named his horses he had no problem calling them by name when an animal already had one.

  'No, he didn't. And we have more than one bay in our stables, so I guess you'll need to name him. But I suppose you'd do that anyway. I'm starting to see the sense in that, if you want to create a bond with an animal you rely on to keep you safe, you should think of him as a kind of person, not a thing.'

  'I'll think of something once I g
et to know him better. Or maybe he already has a name after all, you say Mrs Norman has worked with him a lot, she must call him something. I liked the name of that beautiful black stallion, Cavort. It seemed so fitting.'

  By now, her new horse had lost most of his initial shyness and was nudging her to gain her attention. He was so beautiful, she could hardly believe she could ride such a dainty creature, he looked as if he could fly.

  'I think he is the most beautiful horse I ever saw, my love,' she said to her beloved, 'thank you for such a princely gift. I cannot wait to ride him, though I suppose I will be afraid at first.'

  'At least you can ride him astride, my love, I'm sure that will make you feel much safer. And me. Do you want to try tomorrow? I've arranged for Mrs Norman to be there, she knows him best and she may be even better at instructing than Peter. She taught him, after all.'

  'Didn't she say he was the sweetest horse she ever rode? I believe it, just look at his face, his big brown eyes, and doesn't he have tiny ears?'

  Elizabeth was falling in love rapidly, and actually looked forward to the next day and those to follow. But right now, she wanted half an hour with her beloved before it was time for lunch. As if he knew, the bay horse whuffed her hand one last time, then walked away to join the others. He didn't seem very shy anymore, and it was obvious this was the way to keep horses, even if it was still too early in the year to let them loose in the large meadows beyond the landscaped garden.

  Planning to join his sister and the rest on the second floor, Darcy was

  pleasantly surprised to find himself led to their own bedroom on the first floor instead. Of course Elizabeth wanted to freshen up a little, and change into a more suitable dress, she had been wearing a travelling dress for four days in a row after having been dressed up to within an inch of her life for months on end. Though to him it looked fine, he knew Georgiana didn't like wearing a wrinkly dress either, somehow it bothered the ladies.

  But when they entered their own bedroom she did not walk straight to the dressing table but rather to the bed, where she removed his coat quickly and efficiently, it was a hunting coat and not too tight, and subsequently pushed him to the bed. Then she sat on his face, road dust, wrinkly dress, horse smell and all, and lifted her skirts, still wearing her sturdy boots and stockings!

  After a few moments of confusion at her unexpected behaviour, his excitement went into overdrive, and he availed himself of the opportunity offered with energy, even greed. It was as good as ever, and somehow those boots and her skirts draped all over him heightened the sensation.

  He no longer felt angry towards Wickham, if the wretch really was his brother he was even more a victim of circumstance than Darcy. Instead of feeling jealousy, he merely felt love and admiration for his young wife, who had the London scene at her feet and didn't care a bit. Not even about catching the Prince of Wales' attention.

  Then she turned around, still giving him access to her most intimate parts, hidden under her skirts but not in the sturdy drawers he supposed all men wore to be able to bear the chafing of their tight pantaloons. And when she expertly opened the front of those pantaloons and made use of the stretchy wool of his underwear to access his tackle he stopped thinking altogether.

  Well, except for a short moment to berate himself for again using coarse language, be it only in thoughts. It just wouldn't do for a gentleman to form such habits!

  When her ministrations caused his excitement to grow too quickly and too high, he gently righted himself and disengaged, sending her a loving look to excuse himself for his lack of control. She did not speak, but acknowledged him by kissing him ardently, apparently not minding her own taste on his tongue.

  Slowly they undressed each other, starting with the boots, after which he took his time savouring her taste and rising excitement. Soon their lust was almost on a par, moaning and breathing quickly, and after another shuddering release his beloved pushed him back to the bed and mounted him, riding his frantic

  movements with an expression of ardour. Then she laughed, not slowing down at all.

  'Oh, I'm going to be very stiff for a few days when I pick up riding astride, I can feel that riding side-saddle uses different muscles. No, don't stop, it's good!'

  But he didn't want her to be in pain before she even got on the horse. So he flipped her over easily, not even slowing down, then speeded up until she was panting and clutching his arms, totally overcome with heat.

  When they finally lay back he was exhausted and his stomach hurt with the effort, but his mind was back to its usual calm and he felt wonderful. His beloved in his arms, smelling slightly of horse, his present well-received, what more could a man want?

  'I suppose a real bed with down covers does have its charms, my love. Can't we just teach our children respect instead of trying to have those excellent traits born into them? Do you believe children can be influenced by their mother's mindset?'

  'I cannot truthfully say I ever gave the matter any thought, dearest Elizabeth.

  Though I suppose children mostly resemble their parents, both from birth and from being raised by them. Look at George Wickham, raised by our steward, the most dependable man I ever knew, and yet his behaviour was as bad as his mother's and my father's combined. '

  'But he was indulged by your father, and I suppose his mother. His poor father couldn't have made up for that, not even if Wickham had had a share of his father's righteousness. And your father wasn't all bad, I heard plenty of praise sung to him when I stayed in that Lambton inn with my aunt and uncle.'

  'True, my love, he was a good man, with a rough edge, well hidden. Not at all like our brother-in-law, who used to be mostly bad news. And even he has turned out an excellent officer, I heard nothing but praise from his superiors in Newcastle. Well, my love, as much as I'd like to forget all about him, I cannot. It feels wrong to not pursue this, so I guess we will have a mystery to occupy our time during our stay here: find proof of George's parentage, either written or directly from a witness. We'll find the truth, and if we don't, we'll forget all about him after all. Come, let's dress for lunch, we have enough of a reputation for lechery as it is.'

  Good, he had impressed his little wife, being able to face the horrific Wickham as his potential half-brother. Hard work done, the fun could begin,

  searching the house for treasures and proof.

  'Nathan will let us look through any old stuff left in the attic of their cottage, you know Wickham's family lived there until his father passed away. Though Mrs Brewer looks like a very tidy woman, she may have thrown out all the old dusty stuff.'

  Chapter 3

  After lunch, the others were keen to return to their new quarters to make them habitable as soon as possible, though Darcy had had rooms prepared for all of them to use until their explorer's haunt was ready. He guessed that might take awhile, since they all wanted to choose their beds and other furniture from the attic, which would then have to be brought down the stairs, cleaned and possibly repaired. It might take a week to have those rooms readied, and since it was supposed to be entertainment they'd better take the time to enjoy the process instead of rushing.

  'These rooms are just beautiful! It's as if we've gone back in time about fifty years!'

  Hopefully, Elizabeth wouldn't want to move upstairs as well, after all the trouble he'd taken to decorate the lower two floors to all the modern standards.

  'Isn't it just?' Georgiana gushed, 'let's go upstairs right away, I can't wait to see the attics.'

  'Shall I take Nick downstairs to get a set of lamps? I cannot imagine the attics here being much less dark than those in town.'

  Simon was bright enough proposing to do a servant's work yet again, but Manners and Anne obviously objected. Couldn't they understand that Simon would feel embarrassed to see his former colleagues working while he stood by watching? When he knew exactly where the lamps were and whom to tell he'd taken them?

  'If you please, Simon,' Elizabeth offered. 'We cannot do it ourse
lves, and to ring for someone would make people think, and not in a good way. In return I'll watch the lamps so you can explore with Georgiana. Did they treat you well during lunch, Nick?'

  'Very well indeed, Mrs Darcy. I felt very welcome and the fare was excellent.

  You were all so right to tell me to watch my language, thank you so much, some of your staff do have an accent but a totally different one, and I didn't hear one inappropriate word, not even from the cook. You should have heard Mr Blackwood's cook when things got busy. Or maybe not. Anyway, the two elderly housekeepers are so dignified they're almost ladies themselves!'

  Darcy couldn't suppress a laugh and observed, 'They are from very good families, Fowler, but without the independence to live as ladies. There are more of those than you'd think. Some choose to live with relatives, some marry well, and some find an occupation. A bit like my cousin Colonel Compton, who is a second son and has had to pursue a career in His Majesty's service. Although ladies are not allowed to become officers, they often serve as housekeepers or governesses in other families.'

  Fowler nodded as if he understood, and his polite remark proved he did.

  'Your kind explanation makes me glad that Miss Sophie and Miss Angelina had their own fortunes. They were not raised to support themselves. And now I also understand why Mr Blackwood said he'd find them husbands if they weren't married at the age of twenty one. It was his way to protect them from want.'

  Taking a quick look at Elizabeth, Darcy could see her expression serious, hopefully Fowler wouldn't think she disapproved of his participating in their conversation.

  'I was one of those girls with marriage as my only career option, Nick. I didn't have a fortune, nor the formal education to be a governess, and no rich relatives to need a housekeeper. My father's estate was entailed to his closest male relative, his brother's son, because he only had five daughters, no son to inherit the property. Fortunately I never realised our predicament before both my eldest sister and I made an advantageous marriage.'