Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  'I've never seen you like this, Mr Bennet, this must be very important to you for you to react so strongly. You do realise your daughter and especially Mr Darcy are adults, don't you? They may not appreciate you sticking your nose into their affairs. I have come to know Mr Darcy as a very private man, though I suppose as his father-in-law you have some right to patronise him.’

  ‘You think I’m overreacting?’

  ‘Well, maybe just a little, yes. I know Lieutenant Wickham is a bit of an embarrassment because of his past behaviour, but he is a model soldier now, isn’t he?’

  Mr Bennet then told her her of Wickham’s attempt at Lizzy’s honour, and related the failed elopement with Miss Darcy that Darcy had accidentally mentioned during their earlier conversation.

  Mrs Annesley grew quite silent, almost grave.

  ‘Mr Bennet, I think I have come to know my master quite well in the time I have worked for him. I plead you to not ever tell him about Lieutenant Wickham’s despicable behaviour towards Mrs Darcy, it can only end in grief,

  very likely even in blood. He is not like you, he can be resentful, he will want satisfaction. Your daughter was wise not to tell him, she did not keep quiet for nothing. One cannot win a duel against an officer of the King’s Rifles.

  Even if the lieutenant manages to sow dissent, they can still talk with each other to regain their trust, there is so much love between them. But if Mr Darcy flies into a rage and gets himself killed, all will be lost.’

  Was she right? Would Darcy go as far as to challenge Wickham to a duel of honour? When he could use his new connection to the Prince of Wales to have his brother-in-law brought down to nothing? Likely, Darcy wouldn’t even stop to think.

  ‘Come now, Mr Bennet, let’s not borrow trouble before it actually strikes.

  We have so little time together, a few days at the most and we have to be very discreet with your nephew in the house. And Mrs Reynolds warned me of a Miss Bergman, Lady de Bourgh’s maid. I don’t really remember her from my few visits to Rosings, but according to Mrs Reynolds she likes to pry.’

  ‘And her mistress seems to have taken a liking to me, though I behaved scandalously in her presence. I’ll try to keep that up, put her off.’

  ‘Then I’m glad to not have to sit in the drawing-room with you. I’d die of shame, and give us away in the process.’

  ‘We cannot have her send her maid to spy or convey messages. I’ll do whatever is needed to have you to myself for a few nights.’

  ‘Mrs Reynolds also told me that Miss Bergman is absolutely terrified of Fowler, that should make it slightly safer since he is on the same floor to guard his mistress.

  Will you hold me now? I’ve had quite a shock, and I will have to face Mr and Mrs Darcy later, to discuss the centrepiece.’

  And her smile didn’t leave a doubt that the coming days, and nights, would be as pleasurable as he had imagined them.

  Chapter 29

  So this was it, the moment Darcy had been waiting for since Elizabeth first suggested that George Wickham might have had a stronger connection to Darcy's father than just friendship. In a few moments he would know whether

  the only man in England whom he truly hated was in fact his younger brother. Frankly, he didn't doubt that very much anymore, aunt Catherine had spoken with such intense disgust of the whole affair that Darcy couldn't imagine their fears not being true. It was all so logical, Victoria Wickham had married the Pemberley steward just to be close to his master, an affair which had lasted for more than two decades, from before Darcy was born to the moment Victoria Wickham died. Being a nurse she probably had intimate knowledge of how to prevent conception, so why would she ever have borne a child to the man she didn't love, even though he had been her lawful husband? And such a good, kind man, Darcy remembered the late Mr Wickham well, always there for father or son Darcy to depend on if something didn't work out as planned. Too good for what life had brought him, a wife who loved another and a son who strayed from the straight and narrow, also because of that other.

  'Darcy, you are already here, good! You always were punctual, my favourite nephew. Mrs Darcy...'

  Darcy felt himself tense, even more? Could he? Apparently so, when his aunt gushed over him and only nodded slightly to his beloved. Elizabeth squeezed his hand, she didn't care a whit about aunt Catherine's behaviour towards her, it was more likely to divert her than anger her. She also knew how difficult this was for him, and winked at him where his aunt couldn't see it. That heartened him, whatever they were to hear it didn't matter, as long as he had her love his life was perfect. And he had managed to conquer his jealousy of Prince George, who might flatter Elizabeth to his heart's content these days without causing a single stirring of the green-eyed monster in Darcy's breast.

  'Darcy, I promised you the letters which I had taken from that low woman's room to open your mother's eyes and prove your father was the faithless scoundrel she suspected but didn't want to believe him to be. She never agreed to read them, and I didn't dare tell her what was in them for fear of losing her altogether. I wanted her to leave him to come live with me but she chose to stay with the man who crushed her heart and spirit. It was almost as if she reproached me for trying to expose the truth, when it was Richard Darcy who broke his sacred vows to her. I will give them to you now, and hope that you will forgive me for wanting the best for her, though she never could. And please remember you're not just your father's son, your mother was as perfect a human being as ever lived, she deserves to be remembered as such, not as a woman whom her husband cheated on with her own nurse.'

  Was aunt Catherine as nervous as he was? It certainly seemed that way.

  'Don't worry, aunt Catherine, I know my duty to my family from both sides, and I will not place anyone ahead of them.'

  'Oh, that reminds me, I almost forgot. You have another visitor, another one of your adored lady's relatives. I hope it's a mere coincidence that she is the hussy who eloped with this Wickham character, or your beloved wife has already talked to her sister, who then saw fit to come to reap the benefits even before the relationship has been proven. She was as offensive and unsophisticated as her dress was cheaply made and worn, to not mention its impropriety in genteel company. Trust me, my dear nephew, no good can come from associating with that family. One day the flaws will come out and then you will be sorry, like your mother was, but by then it will be too late.

  For like her you are too honourable to save yourself from a miserly association.'

  'Lydia is here?' Elizabeth said, voice surprised but nothing else. Darcy could hardly breathe with rage, this one time his anger burned instead of turning him icy cold. How dared aunt Catherine? Nobody liked her, nobody even respected her that much, except toadies like Collins. Even her own staff paid lip service to her face and did what they liked behind her back. Elizabeth was the best woman in the world, everyone loved her and yet she only looked at him. And now she was with child, his child, the heir she insisted on giving him when she could have enjoyed a few more years of freedom with just the two of them together. Despite being deadly afraid of giving birth, Elizabeth had sacrificed her freedom for Darcy's family. She deserved love and respect from everyone, not slights and insults aunt Catherine didn't even bother to hide behind polite conversation, as Caroline Bingley had done. Darcy was so angry he couldn't have uttered a word even to save his life.

  'I promised her a few new dresses, you don't mind her staying here a few days before she travels on to Kent, do you? I can understand why she would hate moving to a new camp without a nice new dress, especially coming from the north to the south.'

  Darcy could only nod in assent, how could she ignore aunt Catherine's offensive language so totally? It was as if she didn't care at all.

  'Maybe we should make a little haste with those letters, Lady Catherine, I must admit I'm a little worried about my sister making a spectacle of herself before Prince George. Somehow she cannot say a single word without being offensive, and though I'm rath
er certain the prince would find that highly

  amusing, I suppose I also dare confess I am rather ashamed of my sister's foolishness. Especially if my father is there as well, he'd just as easily encourage her as check her.'

  She totally ignored his aunt's tone and words, merely acknowledging the message as if it was a well-meant warning, one she even agreed with to some extent. Yet Darcy didn't think Lydia would behave foolishly when faced with Prince George, she had improved a lot under the guidance of her friends in Newcastle, she'd uphold the rules of conduct. But it was a strange coincidence indeed for her to turn up just now, though Mr Bennet had mentioned Wickham being expected to travel south this week.

  'I'm glad we agree on something, Mrs Darcy, your sister is not fit company for a prince, however disputable that one's conduct may be for his lofty status. Let us get this letter business over with as soon as possible. Darcy, here you are, this is the most important one, I'll give you the rest later, there are quite a lot. I do warn you, it will not be easy to read.'

  'Which is why Elizabeth is going to do that for me, aunt, as she did with all the others. I suppose those were the real eye-openers, the real shock.

  Compared to finding out exactly how thoroughly my father broke his marital vows, the news this letter contains seems of minor importance. To me. To Wickham, it could mean the world.'

  'If you decided to tell him, my dear nephew. Now, read.'

  Instead of to him, aunt Catherine handed a letter to Elizabeth which looked exactly as the others had, thin and plain. It was obviously the work of a man in the habit of writing a large number of letters of business, to whom writing his mistress might have been another task to fulfil, not a passion.

  Elizabeth accepted the letter graciously, opened it and started to read. Aunt Catherine did not flee, she was many unpleasant things but not a coward.

  My very dear Victoria,

  I hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits, though your last letter gives me confidence you are not dissatisfied with your current life.

  Didn't I tell you you'd come to like living in the country once you'd gotten used to the quiet and the fresh air? And imagine having to live in town with little George, he would not have been able to play outside all the time, the country is so much safer for small children. Anne tells me George and Fitzwilliam are great friends, more like brothers, she said, she is so proud of her boy taking a younger child under his wing.

  There it was, the reference to brotherhood. To a biassed observed like his mother it might have seemed as if Darcy considered Wickham a younger brother, but in fact he had been quite aware of their difference in rank from an early age. Remarkably, it had been his father who had asked him to take good care of little George because that would be his future task as a landowner: to take good care of those depending on him.

  'Are you good to go on, my love?' Elizabeth asked, worried he showed so much feeling already, no doubt. Well, maybe Darcy was also an expecting parent, a little more sensitive than usual. A tiny spark of anticipation and joy now replaced the steady sense of dread he felt: he was going to be a father!

  'I'm fine, my love, please go on.'

  My love, of course I'm not angry at you for admitting you have come to love Wickham. He is the best man I have ever had the pleasure to know, and he is your husband who adores you. It is very fitting you should love him, and I'm very happy to hear you are not just putting up with him anymore, I always felt guilty imagining you with him in private, wishing you were with me instead. And when you got with child so quickly after marrying him I was afraid you'd be miserable carrying his child when you had planned it otherwise. But I really couldn't help having to be in town at that time, you know that, I didn't want to go, especially with Anne so slow to recover from Fitzwilliam's birth as well. Still, I'd dare say everything turned out well, isn't it just perfect how you can face your husband squarely having given him a beautiful and kind son? Don't we all want to give the best we have to offer to those we love?

  What? Did that paragraph say what Darcy thought it meant? A quick look at Elizabeth proved she was as surprised and yes, pleased.

  'Do you want me to read it again, Fitzwilliam? I think we have our answer but I'd like to be sure.'

  He nodded quickly, uncertain of his voice, with aunt Catherine looking on he'd rather not show any weakness at all. The latter didn't seem relieved, well, she knew what was in those letters, had known for two decades. Why was she still so angry? George Wickham was not Richard Darcy's son, shouldn't that make her happy? Had she hated her brother-in-law so much that hearing his words could still anger her, even when spoken by a female voice and from beyond the grave?

  Catching his look, aunt Catherine merely said, 'By all means, read it again,

  but I'm warning you, it won't get any better. Dick Darcy was a hypocritical piece of shit. It gets worse.'

  Such language from his aunt! And worse? How could it get worse? Wickham was George Wickham senior's real son, and what Darcy had done for him was enough, decidedly more than enough, he had not wronged his very own flesh and blood by letting George Wickham's atrocious behaviour seal his fate.

  Distracted by Elizabeth's voice reading the paragraph again he let go of that thought and concentrated on her, or rather, his late father's, words. There was no possibility of confusion, Victoria Wickham had gotten with child within a few weeks of her wedding, despite trying to prevent conception, and in Richard Darcy's absence.

  Aunt Catherine seemed impatient, well, nothing new there.

  'You heard it right, Lieutenant Wickham is no relative of yours by blood, only by marriage. Now, Mrs Darcy, read on.'

  Elizabeth looked at aunt Catherine in a very peculiar way, it was as if she did understand why the offensive old lady was so angry about something which gave his beloved and himself total relief. And then she did the unimaginable: she obeyed Lady Catherine de Bourgh's order and continued to read, repeating the last sentence before starting a new paragraph.

  Don't we all want to give the best we have to offer to those we love?

  Which brings me back to your last letter. Of course I'd love you to visit me in town for a few weeks, and I do understand your wish to try for a little girl to cement our bond. Little George is four years old and if he is to have a sibling this is the perfect time. I know it's every woman's dream to have a daughter with the man she loves, but it's not as easy as that, my dear Victoria. Even if you were to conceive that quickly, you know I can never acknowledge the child as my own, and what if it is another boy? He might look totally different from Wickham and little George, you know Fitzwilliam looks nothing like your son.

  And you know by now what it costs to raise a child, even such a young one, and this is just the start. If you want little George to rise above his father's position he will have to go to school, and to college, which will be very expensive. Of course I will provide for George, he is such a sweet boy and you and Wickham have meant so much for me and for Anne, but Wickham has his pride, he will not accept my paying for everything. A second child, especially if it's a boy, will drain your resources and you will not like doing

  without the luxuries you can afford now.

  But I know Anne is also desperate for another child, preferably a girl, so I do understand. Just think about it and let me know, I will love you whatever happens, and I'm certain Wickham worships you as you deserve. You are a lucky woman to be loved so well, I'm glad I didn't take you from your life in London for nothing.

  Now please keep an eye on Anne and Fitzwilliam, and on little George and Wickham of course. If you want me to write to Wickham to let you come to town I will, it's been two years since you were here, I think you are due some time off. Though maybe it's not the best idea if I intercede again, Wickham might suspect something is afoot. What if you were to make up some excuse about a family member? You still have brothers and sisters in town, don't you? If one of them fell ill you'd almost have to visit, and of course you can stay in my town house.


  Suddenly, Elizabeth stopped reading aloud and perused the rest of the page in silence. She then turned the letter around and quickly took in the rest.

  'The rest is all pillow-talk, my love, endearments and daily affairs. Nothing we need to read immediately, while your aunt is waiting.'

  She turned towards aunt Catherine, who was no less angry but not at Elizabeth as far as Darcy could see.

  'Lady Catherine, thank you for coming here to bring us this letter. No matter how little you may value my opinion, I nevertheless want to let you know how much it means to me, I can see it wasn't easy for you to have all this rankled up.'

  And then she fell silent, what did she mean by all this? What was he missing?

  Well, maybe if he did his duty to his aunt he'd find out.

  'Yes, aunt Catherine, thank you very much. I know it is hard for you to accept that I am happy with Elizabeth, but I trust you will eventually come to see we were meant to be together. And I assure you, I'm very glad to know Lieutenant Wickham is not my brother. I am curious, though, why did you make it seem as if he was? Why warn us it was going to bad when it wasn't?'

  Elizabeth's eyes grew until they almost burst out of their sockets, and she gestured frantically that he'd said something awful and to stop talking immediately. What was it? Looking at his aunt he could see he had somehow put his foot in it, but why?

  Instead of throwing a tantrum, as Elizabeth was clearly expecting, aunt

  Catherine cracked but towards the other side. She sank into a chair as if her anger had suddenly been drained, taking her energy with it, and started to cry quietly. Aunt Catherine, crying? Elizabeth did not offer to comfort her, that would have been too much to ask of her after all the insults she'd received, but she did sit down and waited for the old lady to speak up. Following her example, Darcy decided to sit on his aunt's other side, not next to Elizabeth, the poor woman was clearly distraught and Darcy still didn't understand why, but she was his aunt and she needed his support since she had given up the right to Elizabeth's from the start.