Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  You will be so happy with your little baby, and you are such an active character, you will be back on your horse in no time, really. Even if you do eat too much of Mrs Brewer's pie you will have lost the extra weight before you know it, chasing foxes from the back of your beautiful horse.'

  And again he had made the connection to some tiny bit of information Elizabeth had given away earlier. But he was right, seen from a different perspective she was privileged with a loving husband and supportive relatives. And Jane was with child, and Lydia as well. And Charlotte had a son only a year older, even Fitzwilliam's cousin had a boy that age.

  'You are right, Your Highness, there is nothing to fear for me. I will relish my freedom while it lasts, and then I will enjoy the miracle of giving life. I'm very sorry to hear about your misfortune, yours and Mrs Fitzherbert's.'

  'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. People in general are keen to blame me for my human mistakes, but most seem to forget I have human feelings as much as they do. Please don't think we took it in stride, it was a difficult decision for both Maria and myself. We're not unhappy, and I know I'm spoiled, but being the heir to the throne is not all sunshine, there is always a price to pay.

  Talking of sunshine, let us find the perfect place for your conservatory, the sun is out so we can see which spot will catch the most sunlight in early spring.'

  And just like that, the affable charmer was back, but Elizabeth was no longer fooled, nor would Fitzwilliam be. They soon found the perfect place, snug against the western side of the house where just one tall, rather overgrown fir would have to be felled to allow the sun free access to their conservatory, keeping their future oranges bathing in any sunlight that could be had in an English winter. Elizabeth worried about the pretty rose garden that would have to be moved to make way for the new building, but Fitzwilliam made little of it.

  'The conservatory needs to be built close to the house, my dear, those roses will thrive somewhere else. You know they were my grandmother's, she had a formal garden in front of the house, in the French style. When my father had the front landscaped he wanted to throw them out, but John, who was already serving here but not head-gardener for many years to come, pleaded to hold onto them in her memory, and got permission to make this little rose garden.'

  'I'd love to have the conservatory here, if we find a place for your grandmother's roses that John approves of. I like the view over the new paddocks, and I'm glad the shadow of the big barn stays just short of this space, but I feel a bit guilty for having the stable staff move that large heap of manure to the other side of the stables, it will be a lot of work.'

  'They don't have to move the heap, love, it's spring, high time to haul the manure to the fields before planting. And I don't think our stable staff generally do the heavy work themselves, they usually let the farmers take what they need for their fields, it's quite a valuable resource for them. I would say my tenants have already fetched half the original volume of that heap for their early crops. Besides, they made that heap too close to the house anyway, they will simply start a new one in a more suitable place. And why don't we have those roses brought back to the front of the house? I'm not stuck on a landscaped garden as much as my father was. Those roses deserve to be seen,

  we should have them planted along the garden tour. Will you change that part of the tour, too?'

  'I don't think so, no. I love the walk beside the stream, and I'd like visitors to see the new conservatory, but only from the outside. I'll talk to John to see whether he can make a display of sorts along the route.'

  'In that case, you should incorporate some of Mrs Brewer's art, Mrs Darcy.

  It's very beautiful and unique, it deserves more attention.'

  Prince George was right, Mrs Brewer would probably appreciate that.

  Elizabeth was planning to send for some more pie anyway, to give Prince George a fitting send-off the next morning, why not go herself and discuss longer-lasting art as well?

  'An excellent idea, my love, and may I offer a suggestion as well?'

  Fitzwilliam sounded positively soft, which was odd since he didn't care more for Mrs Brewer's pie than any other kind. That didn't mean he didn't like pie, he just liked almost any pie. But now he pointed towards a very special place between the stables and the front of the house.

  'Put it right there, the display. It's where I saw you again after months of agony, to me that has become a very dear spot. I'd like to have other people look at it and wonder why we chose that particular spot to make a fuss over.

  Plus, it'll give Mrs Reynolds a romantic story to tell, and you know she likes to give me a flaming character.'

  Elizabeth had told him about Uncle Gardiner's comments during their Pemberley tour, and as always he relished letting her know he'd been listening well.

  'So that is where it happened, where you met again after Mrs Darcy refused you so painfully?'

  'That is the very spot, Your Highness. Every time I walk this way I still feel the mixture of extreme surprise and elation, and, yes, I also remember the pain.'

  Her beloved didn't seem to be in much pain right now, as he gazed at her with love in his eyes and spoke softly, 'I'd never experienced such intense feelings until I met you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. And I'm very certain there will be even more profound moments for us to come, be they happy or sad.'

  Even Prince George didn't speak for a few moments after that, obviously he'd had his own experiences with extreme joy and sadness, until he broke the silence with some practical advice.

  'I'd extend your conservatory to include the first set of doors on the front of

  the house. That way it will catch even more sunlight and it will enable you to go in and out through the house, which is very comfortable. It also saves on the need for a hearth in the conservatory itself, you can just heat the adjoining room and leave the door open.'

  Another great piece of advice, he was certainly helping them along really well.

  'Do you want to hire a local builder?'

  'I suppose so, Your Highness, but this needs to be done well, and pretty fast, so I guess we'll have to bring in a proven architect. Maybe you can recommend someone?'

  'I certainly can, I will write down a few names before I leave, for the two of you to choose from. One is my favourite, but he is still very young, in his twenties, and I wouldn't dare call him proven, yet. But it cannot hurt to inquire, I suppose.'

  They talked some more on what was a practical size for a single family to use, and then they stood on the lawn in front of the house and tried to imagine a conservatory beside it.

  'I do think Gothic will fit the house much better than one might think. Cast iron and glass, my steward says it's the future and he is usually right in these matters. It'll cost an arm and a leg, but I do think we should add something of our own to the house. My great-grandfather had the perception to build a new library on a scale he could never fill up in his own lifetime, and I have kept faith and added books as he envisioned. My grandfather invested in a public chapel, so others besides his own family would profit from the improvements. My father had the grounds landscaped, and I have kept them as close to nature as he loved them. And now we will put our mark on my ancestral home by letting nature into the house. I love it, Elizabeth, let's do it.'

  And that was it, old Mrs Darcy's roses would make way once again, but this time they would gain back their place in the public view, most likely acquainting every future visitor to the house with the romantic story of how Mr Darcy found and won Miss Elizabeth Bennet's heart and hand.

  Chapter 28

  Sitting at the Zumpe in their very comfortable room on the second floor,

  Georgiana felt a bit guilty. Since her seventeenth birthday, her wedding and their removal to Pemberley, Georgiana had little reason to experience any unpleasant feeling. She lived totally free of care in her brother's house and spent all her days doing the only thing she had ever wanted out of life, on a level she could only have dreamed of as little a
s a year ago, with the man she had never dreamed of because she had been too young to do so, but met anyway. Was her life too easy?

  Right now her brother was undoubtedly under quite a bit of pressure. He was taking a stroll around the garden to let himself be talked into adding an unimaginably expensive conservatory to his already huge house. Georgiana was certain he didn't mind strolling through the garden with Elizabeth, or spending a year's income on a glass-and-cast-iron building to please his beloved, but they were in the company of the Prince of Wales, who had dropped in unannounced to listen to Georgiana's talented husband's music but meanwhile tested Fitzwilliam's patience and trust by openly admiring Elizabeth. And that was just the start of her brother's ordeal, for besides Prince George they now had aunt Catherine visiting, and she not only provoked Prince George to unsuspected hauteur with her efforts to exert control over her married daughter, but also insulted Elizabeth at every opportunity. Besides having come to tell poor Fitzwilliam whether the man he hated was in fact his brother, another reason for him to feel less than tranquil. Not to mention coming here in the company of Mr Collins, though Georgiana had taken responsibility for him since she'd let him into the house against her brother's wishes.

  And now Mr Bennet had arrived in the company of Georgiana's former lady companion, and if Georgiana hadn't noticed something going on from Mr Bennet's and her brother and sister's behaviour in the drawing-room, she had not been at headquarters for five minutes before the conversation had turned to the old man making the most of a difficult situation by comforting a lady in distress whilst temporarily forgetting his own foolish wife. For Georgiana it was not amusing at all to hear this, she'd actually disliked Mrs Annesley more than a little when that good lady had still been in a position of authority towards her and was always trying to teach her pupil some useless instance of lady-like behaviour. And she liked Mr Bennet tremendously, because he had accepted his daughter's new little sister without trying to improve her. To him, Georgiana had been good enough as she was, and she resented the power Mrs Annesley now had over someone she had come to love. Or maybe

  Georgiana was being childish, she had been Mrs Annesley's pupil after all, and since changing positions in their household the good lady had treated Georgiana with unfailing respect.

  Maybe it was time to grow up and start taking some responsibility? Even though the estate was Fitzwilliam's, and his only?

  'You're not paying attention at all, are you my love?'

  Eric had stopped playing, she was supposed to give him a little flick every time he let his left hand drag, he still had to pay attention to keeping his two smallest fingers in line. Not even Elizabeth would notice anymore, but Eric wouldn't be the best if he accepted anything less than perfection.

  'I'm sorry, no. So much has happened, Fitzwilliam has so much to put up with, and now we've left aunt Catherine and Mr Collins by themselves in the drawing-room. Who knows what they are up to. I feel responsible, I think I should go back downstairs and keep them entertained, or at least from mischief.'

  'Well then, my love, why didn't you say something? We can sacrifice an hour to propriety. Come, let us go.'

  He got up and held out his hand to her. In this room they did not have to bow to the rigid rules of propriety and inevitably ended up in each other's arms.

  Likely no-one noticed, for the four other people present were as involved in each other. Frederick and Simon were studying some map, almost sitting on each other's lap but not quite, since Prince George might drop in any time, and Mr Collins also had permission to visit. Nick and Anne were merely relishing each other's presence, talking quietly, they had been riding together all morning but had to pretend to be mistress and servant in public.

  When Georgiana and Eric walked away from the piano, Frederick looked up and asked lazily, 'Leaving, young love-birds?'

  'I'm going to sit with my aunt and Mr Collins. She's my aunt, too, and I let Mr Collins in, I feel responsible. Who knows what they're up to?'

  'Well, trust your instincts. If you have a sense that you should be there to keep an eye on them you're probably right. Want me to string along, to entertain my mother-in-law?'

  'Thank you for the offer, Frederick, but we'll manage. You and Simon enjoy some time together. You know, I do feel apprehensive, as if something is up.

  Let's hurry, Eric.'

  Checking herself just before opening the door to the drawing-room not to come storming in, Georgiana took Eric's hand and straightened her posture.

  For her brother's sake she wanted to make a good impression on aunt Catherine, and since she apparently looked a lot like her mother when she was young, Georgiana already had the advantage. Just be polite, she instructed herself, Eric was always polite, and aunt Catherine had plenty to say so they would most likely only have to nod and murmur assent

  occasionally.

  'Here goes,' and she was inside. Where aunt Catherine and Mr Collins were sitting at the round table playing cards with a young woman Georgiana knew she should recognise. She was pretty and dressed to flaunt her natural assets, though within the boundaries of respectability. Where had she seen this woman, a girl almost, with dark blonde hair carelessly put up, her air self-assured and her face lighted up with a broad, good-natured smile?

  'I win this round, Mr Collins, now it's Lady Catherine's turn.'

  Mr Collins looked up at the sound of the door closing, Eric had done that a little louder on purpose, to let the card players know someone had entered.

  Will's face was a study in anxiety but when he discerned the newcomers that changed to relief.

  'Mrs Fielding, Mr Fielding, you could not have come at a more fortunate time! We have been spending our time quite pleasantly, Mrs Wickham has been teaching us a new card game. It's called speculation, do you know it?'

  Mrs Wickham? Oh my dear, this was Elizabeth's sister Lydia! Who could not have come at a worse time, or a worse moment, with everyone out of the room except aunt Catherine and Mr Collins! No wonder Georgiana had felt the icy hand of premonition urging her to hurry downstairs!

  'Why Mrs Wickham, such a pleasure to see you again! You look fabulous, did you come from Newcastle this morning?'

  Lydia jumped up and almost ran to embrace Georgiana familiarly, she was not a bad girl, just very impulsive and thoughtless. She did look very healthy, with a sweet blush on both cheeks, and in a much better mood than at dear Jane's wedding. Hadn't Elizabeth told them she was with child once again, after tragically losing her first baby boy?

  'Mrs Fielding, thank you so much for complimenting me! I know my dress is years out of date and I just cannot seem to get all the wrinkles out, and you look like you've just stepped out of the fashion pages of the newspaper.

  You're so tall and your hair is so blonde and straight! And how do you keep your skin so fair? Mine is always getting tanned, even in winter!'

  Well, sitting at a piano all day practising might have something to do with straight hair and white skin.

  'Mrs Wickham, you look just fine. I'm very certain Elizabeth will sort out your dresses, didn't she promise you a shopping spree when you visited?

  There is not much shopping to be done here but we have an excellent seamstress. You know my hair curls like a sheep's fleece as soon as a drop of

  rain strikes it? Fanny insists on combing it straight every morning, and since I'm mostly inside playing the piano it doesn't get the chance to turn sheep on me.'

  Could that smile grow even broader? It most certainly could, as Lydia gushed her reply.

  'And I like to chat with my friends at the watering place, I suppose that is where I get the tan as well, though I do wear my bonnet, of course.'

  'Well, Mrs Wickham, I suppose I'm also naturally light-skinned, I burn quickly and I dare admit to you that if I were to sit in the sun, even in winter, I'd freckle. But please don't tell anyone or they'll make fun of me.'

  'It'll be our little secret. Wickham and I left Newcastle this morning, we're on our way to his new assig
nment in Kent. He is staying with an old friend in a village nearby, a really old man who used to be hunt master here. I didn't want to go south without seeing Lizzy again, she has been such a good help when I needed her. Isn't this a grand place? Wickham did say it was the largest house I'd ever see but I couldn't believe it. I do now. My room is as big as our whole house in Newcastle, and the housekeeper is like a lady herself. I didn't think she'd let me in, but when I said my name she looked at me in a certain way, I suppose she knew I was Mrs Darcy's sister and she led me to that room and let me wash and change my dress and then she asked a man in a beautiful uniform to take me here.'

  By now, Eric had sat himself down by aunt Catherine and was talking to her, Georgiana could not hear them but her aunt looked interested, so that was good enough. Mr Collins seemed torn between joining his patroness'

  conversation and being polite towards Mr Darcy's sister, but Lydia soon helped him by including him into their conversation.

  'The housekeeper told me Lady Catherine was here and Mr Collins and no-one else and I asked whether I might not better wait in my room until Lizzy was returned, but she said I was family and as welcome to her mistress as any grand lady. Do you suppose Lizzy told her to say that? I thought it was kind of her to say that and I told her so, and then I went in. And Mr Collins was very nice to me, I used to think he was quite a bore, but since Mr Blaze helped me when I was desperate over losing my poor baby boy I have gained quite a lot of respect for the cloth and I no longer find going to church boring.

  I'll miss him in Kent, Mr Blaze, and all my friends. And they say Wickham will be away most of the time, sent to France to fight. I wish he didn't have to, but at least he'll have a green coat instead of a red one, and a rifle instead

  of a musket. Wickham says they almost never misfire and he always hits his target. Though I suppose those French soldiers have wives, too, and babies. I wish there didn't have to be a war.'