Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  It seemed like a lot of bother to put on a dress for breakfast and change afterwards, plenty of reason to instead pick one of her riding skirts and a beautifully patterned blouse with lace decorations. It would be wise to wear a pair of those woollen undergarments, though they might be too warm for spring. But taking a riding lesson astride a horse would hurt her legs enough without chafing them as well, and her woollies were virtually invisible beneath the flowing fabric. Her sturdy boots completed her outfit.

  No gentleman or lady had ever seen her thus attired, and she felt slightly nervous to join the others at the table. Of course Fitzwilliam's obvious excitement helped, he was so pleased and looked at her with such love, it reminded her of those first few days together at Pemberley. He insisted on holding her hand all the way down the stairs and to the breakfast parlour, and every ten steps he bent down and kissed her tenderly.

  Thus they met Anne and Nick at the bottom of the stairs. Those two were all business towards each other, and parted with a mere nod on Anne's side and a polite bow on his, each to his own sphere. But not before Nick had bowed flamboyantly to Elizabeth, and respectfully to Fitzwilliam, and Anne exclaimed, 'Elizabeth, you look marvellous! I thought you were going to dress down in the country, but here you've brought a whole new ensemble!'

  And she meant it, she hadn't even noticed the skirts were split. Not yet. Then when Elizabeth showed her by taking a large step, she was even more impressed.

  'So these are the famous riding skirts! Well, I'll not be ashamed to be seen in one of them, although mother would have a cat. I want a blouse like that, too, and I'd wear it in town. You could start a whole new fashion....again.'

  Seeing Anne in a setting like this, amidst the riches of a gentleman's country estate, the change from the languid, sickly creature she had been to this vibrant, kind, and beautiful young woman suddenly struck Elizabeth all over again, and she just had to embrace and kiss her.

  'Elizabeth? Did I say something? Darcy, you too? Did something happen?'

  Even Fitzwilliam couldn't help hugging her, right there in the large hall.

  'I suppose Elizabeth and I had a similar experience, Anne. Somehow, this hall reminded us of the old you. Seeing you like this made me very happy. Am I right, my love?'

  'You are. Anne, I remembered you sickly and depressed, and now you're so alive! I'm so happy for you.'

  They both got their hugs right back, and all three took their time composing themselves.

  'I hardly ever think of that anymore. Really. I'm just too busy enjoying myself. We had such a good night, Nick and I, thank you so much for everything you did. I can't wait to ride a horse myself.'

  Then they entered the breakfast room, and of course Eric and Georgiana were already there. Those two had probably been practising before breakfast, despite having their honeymoon there was work to do.

  'Good morning, everyone!,' Georgiana called out happily, 'Elizabeth, you keep crediting others with your fame in fashion, but I really believe you're selling yourself short. If this is your country attire, I'm glad no-one cares what is happening in the northern countryside, or we'd be overrun with fashion reporters after all, Mme Beaution in front!'

  Flattered because Anne and Georgiana did not praise insincerely, Elizabeth observed, 'I'll ask Mrs Norman to make you several, you'll need them if you are going to ride astride. Then we can look our best together.'

  'So you're going to try your new hunter today, Elizabeth?' Frederick asked, just having entered the room. 'I like this skirt or these trousers, or what you call them: right now you seem to be wearing a skirt, but when you moved a little I could see you can easily sit astride a horse. Are you nervous?'

  Elizabeth searched her soul before answering, 'I suppose I'm not. Mrs Norman will be there, and I trust her even more than her husband. She knows the horse and wouldn't let me ride him if he were dangerous.'

  'What is his name, Elizabeth?' Georgiana now wanted to know.

  'He doesn't have one, but I'm planning to name him, I'm just waiting to hear whether Mrs Norman has already chosen a name for him to work with, she knows him best.'

  Georgiana nodded. 'Good idea, a name should fit its bearer.'

  And indeed Elizabeth was not nervous when they approached the riding

  paddock, where Mrs Norman was already present with Peter, her adoring husband. Of course they greeted the other couple heartily before starting on the action.

  'Do you want me to try him first, ma'am?' Peter then offered, 'so you can see how he reacts?'

  But Elizabeth didn't, she wanted to ride her horse right now, without delay.

  'Thank you, Peter, but I suppose I'll just hop on and do whatever Mrs Norman says.'

  A big grin proved Peter appreciated his mistress' bravery and trust in his beloved missus, and without delay he helped Elizabeth get into the saddle.

  Sitting astride for the first time in months, she was glad to be wearing her woollen underwear, for though it would soon get too hot to wear it, at this moment it protected her skin against the rubbing of the hard saddle.

  The bay horse waited patiently until Mrs Norman said, 'Just use your legs as always, ma'am, but maybe a little less firmly. He is much more sensitive than Daisy.'

  Elizabeth did, very conscious of the warm, strong body beneath her. Still, she was sitting so much firmer than on a lady's saddle, there was no comparison.

  And with the slightest pressure of her calves, he stepped forward at a sedate walk, enabling her to try out his reaction to the reins and her seat. She tried to make him take a stride towards the right with just her left leg, and succeeded.

  Then she sat down into the saddle firmly, exhaling, and he stopped.

  'Very good, ma'am, I can see I'm hardly needed at all! You have not forgotten how to ride astride.'

  And then she put Elizabeth to work as never before, riding circles and eights in the paddock on her seat alone, then repeating everything at a trot. On a side-saddle, trotting was pure torture, so Elizabeth had done little of it recently, and it was quite a task to do so now, all the relevant muscles had deteriorated through lack of exercise. But she'd soon get them back, and it was a real thrill to have a horse like this, with a longer stride and more energy in everything he did for her. And to have him do all that for her without question, he was so willing, and he clearly enjoyed the work.

  Finally, Mrs Norman let Elizabeth canter a few circles to the left, then to the right. Then they were done, and Elizabeth thought high time, her muscles were protesting.

  'Excellent, ma'am, you have forgotten very little, and you're really talented!

  Do you want to walk him dry yourself? Peter can do it.'

  'I'd like to do it myself, Mrs Norman, and thank you so much for your lesson.

  Do you have time for me to ask several questions?'

  Mrs Norman came towards her and fell into pace with the horse, her figure very trim in her own coarser riding skirts with a simpler blouse.

  'Would you please call me Sarah, Mrs Darcy? I keep wondering why my mother-in-law is hovering behind me all the time, I'm used to being just plain Sarah.'

  That didn't surprise Elizabeth one bit, she could not imagine anyone more down-to-earth than Sarah Norman.

  'I will, Sarah, if you'll call me Elizabeth. You're my teacher after all, my life is in your hands.'

  Much more easily than Elizabeth had expected, Sarah smiled and affirmed, 'I will, Elizabeth, but only because you asked me. You're not just Peter's mistress, but also rather well-known from the London news in the papers.

  You deserve respect.'

  'Thank you, Sarah. You have a tremendous talent, and I'm so happy with the work you put into this fabulous horse. Now tell me, have you named him?

  You've worked with him for months, you must have used some name to refer to him, or to address him with. You know him much better than I do, and I want his name to fit him.'

  Colouring a little with embarrassment, Sarah said as if confessing a terrible sin, 'You really
know people, Elizabeth, for it would have been impossible for me to work so intensely with an unnamed horse. I called him Barley, for barley sweets. They have the same colour and he is so very sweet. We used to get a few barley sweets at the harvest fair when I was a young girl and I always loved them. I didn´t think you'd ever find out I'd named him.'

  'I think Barley is a fabulous name, he ís sweet, and exactly the colour of barley sweets. You know I got those, too, on market days? Remember, I'm from the country, my father has an estate but not nearly as large as Pemberley. Our carriage horses worked on the farm whenever they were needed, and we had one lazy old riding horse besides my father's hunter. It's a very good name for a horse, not too much of a mouthful. Barley it is then. Oh look, he already minds it!'

  And indeed, Barley's ears flicked towards Elizabeth when she spoke his name this last time. She scratched his neck to acknowledge his attention, and his large head lowered almost towards the ground, whuffing and grunting.

  'I'm so glad to see you've taken to each other already, Elizabeth! I've gotten

  attached to him, I always do with the horses I train. I know I will have to part with them eventually, of course, but it's so much easier when I trust their new master to truly appreciate them. I see no reason not to go out with him tomorrow, you will be with Mr Darcy, who has perfect control over his horse, and you can avoid jumps until I've taught you the right way to take them. His gallop is as comfortable as his canter and he never loses his head, not even in the presence of a nervous hunter. We've tested that with Peter on my father's most bothersome young stallion. Barley just doesn't care, he likes running, but he always minds his rider. He is incredibly hardy, the other horse may run faster, but Barley catches him in the end on pure stamina.'

  'Thank you so much, Sarah, I'm so happy with him! Do you still have time to sew, with your little boy and your father's hunters to ride as well as Barley?

  Mrs Fielding and Mr Darcy's cousin Miss de Bourgh need these skirts, too, they will also be learning how to ride.'

  'Mr Darcy asked me to give them lessons, but I didn't realise they would need skirts, too. Frankly, I do not see how I'll ever find the time, not even with my mother to help out. Shall I just give the pattern to Mrs Reynolds, so she can let your usual seamstress have it to adapt for your relatives?'

  Somehow, that didn't feel right.

  'But then the seamstress can make as many as she likes, and you won't see a penny for the work you had in developing the pattern.'

  Sarah realised that instantly and was lost for words for a few moments, until she observed, 'Begging your pardon, Elizabeth, but do you think many gentlemen will let their ladies ride astride? Do you think there will be a large market for riding skirts?'

  Not many gentlemen would, no. But seamstresses did not only work for the few gentlemen in the county.

  'Sadly you are right where ladies are concerned, but I've heard a lot of farmers' daughters ride, and always astride. They might like a beautiful skirt.

  Why don't I discuss this with Mrs Reynolds, she undoubtedly knows how to deal with the seamstress so you receive your due for developing the riding skirt. And I will let you know what she comes up with. We can just pay for the pattern so you'll have something, though I'd prefer you profit from other sales as well.'

  'You are more than fair, Elizabeth, and I am very glad you and Barley are such a good match. We'll see each other the day after tomorrow then, for another lesson?'

  They set a time for their next lesson, after which Barley had cooled down enough to eat his reward of grain and go back to his paddock. As Peter approached to lead Barley away, Fitzwilliam helped her from the saddle.

  'Elizabeth, my love, I'm stunned to see how well you rode a new horse after months of riding a side-saddle. Do you like him? Never mind, I can see you do, your eyes sparkle, though I suppose your muscles hurt more than a little.'

  'They do. I think I'd like a bath straight away, for I wouldn't want to be too stiff to ride tomorrow. Sarah thinks we can go out tomorrow, she expects no difficulties. We've arranged another lesson the day after. I can't wait, my love, not for the riding out, nor for the lesson. Thank you so much for your beautiful and lovely gift, Fitzwilliam, Barley is the perfect horse for me.'

  'So you were right, he had a name already?'

  'His colour reminded Sarah of the barley sweets she got on special occasions, and since he is as sweet and as special as those were to her then, she thought it a fitting name, though she never expected me to ask for it or keep it. I agree Barley is a good name for a horse and especially this one, for he is indeed sweet, and the colour of barley sweets. I also loved those, though I got them more often, at least every month.'

  'I am glad you like him, and his name. Let's get you that bath, your legs are shaking. Thank you, Mrs Norman, you're a treasure!'

  The good woman didn't even blush at Fitzwilliam's gallantry and why should she? Her own husband worshipped the ground she walked on, and though he didn't own a substantial slice of Derbyshire, Sarah didn't seem to care about that at all.

  Their first night at Pemberley in their very own room had been magical. Last night, that room had only held the bed, but Nick knew Anne had ambitious plans for the decorations, her own little piece of heaven, like Nick's had been in the Blackwood attic but much larger and less secret. Actually, it would be theirs, they had picked out the bed together, a sleek double with clean, flowing lines and a lovely horsehair mattress. And the comforter Mrs Reynolds had provided proved she was really happy to see Anne again, is was so thick and soft, much nicer than the one Nick had on his narrow cot in the adjacent room. He had chosen to furnish his room according to his stature, bare and simple. He did not expect to be there very often, anyway, and the spare time he did spend there by himself he would be reading, Mr Darcy had included Nick in his invitation to use his huge library, an offer

  Nick planned to avail himself of. And not just to to 'improve his mind', though that story had reached him through Anne, and had made both of them very curious about the book with the naughty content.

  'Hello there?' a gentle voice interrupted his thoughts. 'I'm Pauline, one of the general maids. Are you with Mr Darcy's friends? I haven't seen you before, have I?'

  Actually, Nick had seen Pauline from across the table in the common-room, where she had served the staff lunch and dinner. She was about twenty, Nick estimated, and rather pretty in a full-bosomed, red-cheeked way. In his former life, he'd have tumbled her without hesitation or remorse, except that she was of the same household as he was now.

  'Hello Pauline, I'm Nick. I did indeed arrive with the party yesterday, I'm in Mr Manners' service as his fiancée's personal guard. Miss de Bourgh is Mr Darcy's cousin on both their mothers' side.'

  'Mr Darcy's mother is deceased, isn't she?'

  'True, but Miss de Bourgh's mother is still very much alive. I saw her just a few days ago.'

  'As a guard you must see so many important people!'

  Another one? Nick didn't need another wide-eyed maid following his every move, what was it that attracted them to him? He was older, not handsome, constantly on the move with his master and mistress, and he didn't encourage them at all. Or did he, but without being aware of it? Better ask the others, maybe there was something he could do to prevent this from happening again and again.

  'I haven't been a guard for very long, but I've met quite a lot of interesting people. Well, actually, seen them, not met them, we're not acquainted or anything. But they are generally nice. Before Mr Manners hired me I chaperoned two girls in London, twins about your age.'

  'They say Mrs Darcy is just twenty one, but I cannot believe it.'

  'I think she turned twenty one just last winter, so you'd better. Have you worked here long, Pauline? And have you met Dora, Miss de Bourgh's maid?'

  'I was hired especially for spring and summer, because so many guests are expected. I've been here for a week now and I like it a lot. My dad didn't want me to come, he says cooking and cleaning
for my father and later for a husband was good enough for my mother and should be good enough for me.

  But I have three sisters and they need clothes and shoes, and the youngest is really smart. If I earn enough here, maybe she can study to be a nurse and

  escape the village and being some farmer's wife.'

  'Is your father one of Mr Darcy's tenants?'

  'He is. I don't want to be like my mother and scrub my doorstep every day and wash my curtains every week. I want to live and see the world.'

  That was it, she wanted Nick to help her find a position. Well, he could try, and if the sister was as smart as Pauline thought maybe there was a chance of her being sent to a nursing school, he supposed all those villagers needed care every so often, and the women would need midwives, too.

  'Thank you for telling me, Pauline. I may be able to do something to help your sister, but not today or tomorrow, it will take time.'

  The girl laid a hand on his and looked as if she was trying to seduce him. But she wasn't, not really, she hoped to use him and was prepared to pay the price.

  'Never mind, Pauline,' he said calmly and kindly, 'I don't require payment for a little favour, especially not that kind. I'm not even sure I can help, but I will try. I don't do that at all with the people I share a household with, you know.'

  Maybe she would tell others, he could hope, though he wouldn't bet on it.

  And he would ask Mrs Eliot to talk to the girl, to convince her that most men would abuse such an offer. He had a feeling the lady would not fire a maid for trying to get help for her sister, but Nick would have to be careful, he already had this reputation.

  'I've met Dora, she is nice. And she is Miss de Bourgh's personal attendant, that is such an honour. She said Miss de Bourgh promised her she could stay after the wedding, but do you think a married lady in London can have a young girl like Dora as maid? Is it true that Simon only flirts with the maids?