Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  'I suppose you are right, Kent cannot be filled with terrible people like Lady de Bourgh, and Lydia does make friends easily. I wouldn't want to hire a maid to find Lydia doing the housework and the maid enjoying herself. So

  you suggest I send for Abbey and encourage Lydia to find new friends among the officers' wives?'

  'Exactly, and should Abbey's journey from Newcastle be too expensive I can certainly help you with that.'

  'Well, I suppose that won't be a problem anymore. With my advancement comes added responsibility but there are benefits as well. We can afford Abbey and even a nursery maid. And by the time our firstborn needs a governess I suppose I will have made a fortune in France. Or Spain.'

  And before Elizabeth could offer any help they might need, her father interrupted.

  'So that takes care of Lydia, but I still want to know how you are, Wickham.'

  Chapter 34

  Papa's obvious concern had a profound effect on his son-in-law. Like Fitzwilliam, Wickham probably feared his father-in-law's sarcasm, and with more reason. This kind inquiry almost sounded like a premonition, as if papa feared Wickham's fate in France.

  By now they were all sitting down in old-fashioned but reasonably sound chairs, Wickham having taken care that Elizabeth got the most comfortable one, as if she needed cosseting. But she understood his wanting to show her respect and thanked him for his kindness, though a bit more formally than she actually wanted to. It wouldn't do to incite his preference, he was obviously not free from it, yet.

  The fireplace was large for the size of the cottage and a merry fire kept the entire space comfortably warm without causing this seating area to be sweltering. Above the fireplace was a broad mantle made out of a single massive oaken beam, almost too large for the size of the room but somehow fitting the style. On top of it was a collection of curiosities that Elizabeth would have liked to study for a few moments, if papa's question hadn't brought a certain tense atmosphere to the room. This wasn't the time for chat and niceties, apparently this was to become a moment for serious conversation. But if an opportunity yet presented itself she would like to know why one would keep a flat piece of rock on one's mantle. The pretty little weasel standing on a gnarled branch she could understand, it was a

  perfect adornment of this room, but a piece of slate in a drab grey colour?

  'I'm glad you asked, Mr Bennet, you have been a true friend to me although I still don't understand why. I would have broken your youngest daughter's heart, left her robbed of her honour and her friends, and blamed her for her own folly. The life I led was a blemish to my father and the late Mr Darcy's best efforts to make a man out of me. By risking my life for King and country I can only hope to make up a little bit for what I did to your daughter and others. And yet you are kind to me, hear me out when I need to clear my mind, why?'

  Papa didn't say anything in reply for in the silence right after Wickham's rather grandiose statement Deirdre the housekeeper came in, bearing a tray with a pot of tea, cups and saucers and some dubitable-looking cookies.

  Instead of merely thanking her and getting rid of her, Wickham let her pour tea for each of them, and offer them the plate with the treats. Imitating Wickham's consideration towards his friend they all took one, it wouldn't do to seem above their company, and the treats might actually be fresh and edible.

  'Deirdre's cookies are delicious, Mrs Darcy, though I guess you have had the best of what London has to offer.'

  So there was to be some meaningless chat after all, for Deirdre's benefit.

  Well, Elizabeth was happy enough to oblige.

  'I think I have, Lieutenant Wickham, did you know I spent an afternoon and an evening at Carlton House? Prince George employs two French confectioners, and their creations were as beautiful as statues, though they were really cakes and sweets. They use chocolate and oranges and some exotic fruits and condiments I don't even know the names of. It was delicious, and yet I have tasted better pie in our very own village.'

  'That must be Mrs Brewer's work then, Mrs Darcy. She has a reputation for her pies and sweets all over this neighbourhood, but I've never tasted anything she made. Did you really get to see the prince? What was he like? I cannot believe you say Mrs Brewer's pie is better!'

  'It was indeed Mrs Brewer's pie, and I thought it was as good as what those Frenchmen made, since they had the advantage of all those expensive ingredients and still Mrs Brewer's pie was at least as good. But of course I'm not an expert, and I have been known to have a very simple taste in food.

  Prince George is very nice, very smart and educated, and very charming as well. Not as handsome as the lieutenant, though.'

  That brought the attention back to Wickham and Deirdre beamed on him, then picked up the tray and said, 'Well, I wish you a good time together,' and went straight back to where she had come from. The tea was better than Elizabeth had expected, and so was the cookie. There wasn't much sugar in the tea but plenty of cream, and somehow that suited Elizabeth's changing taste exactly, hopefully she wouldn't develop even stranger cravings or worse, aversions to certain flavours.

  Elizabeth could see Wickham was dying to ask her about Carlton House and Prince George, but papa had a mission and he was going to get Wickham to talk.

  'You are part of my family now, Wickham, and Lydia loves you. She doesn't feel you've mistreated her, she doesn't know you were planning to leave her, and as far as I'm concerned she will never find out. These days, you put in an effort to let her believe you love her, just to make her happy, and you are willing to give your children a better start in life than I gave Lydia. You are trying to make something of your life, and I cannot but respect that.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Mr Bennet. I am trying very hard, but I’m afraid Lydia will find out soon enough that my chances abroad are less fortuitous than in good old England.’

  ‘I suspect she already knows but fears to discuss the subject since that will make it real. Having Abbey about will make it easier for her to cope. Thank you for agreeing to let her come over.’

  ‘Abbey is a good girl, Mrs Darcy, and she has already had an excellent influence on Lydia, also because there were some things Lydia could teach her.’

  Suddenly he became very intense, and Elizabeth was glad to have papa there.

  ‘Are you happy, Mrs Darcy? I've been torturing myself about what I did in Newcastle. Here you were, trying to make your marriage with Mr Darcy work, and I kept badgering you with the past. I suppose I just couldn't believe that you of all people would choose to marry for money. Of course having such a powerful man fall for you must be rather gratifying, and knowing Mr Darcy I am certain his love will last forever. But does it make you happy, after what we had together, after feeling the bond two mere mortals can have?

  Or is your life like mine, as good as it can be but always lacking the one thing it might have contained but for my own folly? And in your case it wouldn't even have been your folly but mine keeping you from true happiness. I would hate to sail to France and face the enemy knowing I'd done that to you. I

  should have known that his offer to release me from debt was but a ploy to remove a rival.’

  Elizabeth felt her temper rising at this proof that Wickham still believed himself loved by her, when she had told him on several occasions that she didn't care for him and never had. Only a little shove of her father's sturdy riding boot kept her from lashing out in anger, and when she looked at papa he gave a minute shake of his head and observed calmly, 'Remember how I couldn't believe it at first? Just tell him the truth.'

  Part of her anger now found an outlet towards her father, who didn't deserve that at all.

  'I'm not a fool, papa, I told him twice already. He just doesn't listen. Living with Lydia has likely convinced him everybody must love him mindlessly.'

  'It was rather difficult to believe that you should suddenly love someone you used to hate with a passion, my dear Lizzy.'

  'I hated Mr Darcy because of Wickham, papa! He lied to me
, made me believe Fitzwilliam was some kind of monster who threw the companion of his youth from him out of jealousy for his father's attention. Who had taken Wickham's prospects away from him as soon as the elder Mr Darcy passed away. When I found out the truth, that they had settled for a sizeable compensation, that Fitzwilliam had regularly paid off debts for Wickham, that Wickham had tried to elope with Georgiana, my opinion of Fitzwilliam improved a lot. And when we met again at Pemberley he was so kind to me and so considerate of uncle and aunt Gardiner, after all the unjust accusations and reproofs I'd heaped on him, I started to actually admire him. And when I thought I had lost my chance to really get to know him because of Lydia's foolishness and imminent public disgrace, I slowly came to realise my admiration had somehow turned to love. If he hadn't come back to Longbourn and proposed it would have broken my heart, I was so glad to come to an understanding. To think we've only been married for half a year, we know each other so well and we are so close it seems like we have been in love forever.'

  Wickham apparently forgotten, Elizabeth looked at her father with mischief in her eyes.

  'I suppose I could have managed with a more modest income, I was perfectly happy at Longbourn. Jane and I knew how to do a lot of chores ourselves, as if we knew we might have to settle on less income than we were used to, though we didn't realise that at all at the time. I flatter myself I would have

  married a clergyman if he had been the one I loved, or a soldier, even on a modest income, though I would never have married a gamester, or a skirt-chaser. And fortune, or fate, put me in the way of the handsomest, kindest man I know, then in some mysterious way caused him to fall hopelessly in love with me, against his own inclinations.'

  Now, Elizabeth acknowledged Wickham's existence once more. It seemed he had gotten the message this time, though she had thought that before and had been proven wrong.

  'I'm glad you do love him, really. I suppose he deserves it, but you certainly do. I think Lydia even mentioned it once, she thought it so romantic. Thank you for giving me peace of mind, Mrs Darcy, I'm sorry I didn't want to hear it before. It will be a relief when I am out there, on the front.'

  And he truly seemed calm, he had accepted what life would bring, like papa had when he realised he had married the wrong woman. Time to change the subject.

  'Do you know why your friend keeps a piece of slate on his mantle, Lieutenant Wickham?'

  And since he did know, Wickham explained that it was a special piece of rock because it contained some curious impressions of shells, which of course couldn't be what they actually were since the sea was days away. But studying the stone she had to admit the beautiful shapes buried in the dense material looked like nothing so much as seashells. When she had looked her fill of them and wondered how they had ended up right in the middle of Derbyshire, he showed her the other curious finds Jacob had taken home with him from his long rambles. They spent another fifteen minutes talking whilst they drank their tea and ate their cookies, then readied their horses for their return. Elizabeth answered Wickham's admiring questions about her Barley, then allowed him to help her mount, though of course she could do that very well by herself.

  Only then did he notice she rode astride, and once he'd managed to close his mouth again, his parting words were, 'I can see why you are very happy with Mr Darcy. I suppose you have changed him, for the man I knew would never have suffered a woman under his authority to ride astride.'

  And Elizabeth knew that was true, they had both changed. As had Wickham, and this might be the last time they would see him alive. Or he might survive and make his fortune, only time would tell. 'I will not say fare well, Lieutenant Wickham, for we will meet again.'

  'I hope so, Mrs Darcy, maybe when our child is baptised. Good bye, Mr Bennet, I look forward to continuing our correspondence.'

  'So do I, my son, so do I. Good journey, and thank you for taking such care of my daughter.'

  And then Barley was eager to be off, back across the fields and through the beautiful woods of Pemberley, and Elizabeth gave him his head to find his way back to the Pemberley stables.

  In the days that followed the weather took a turn towards spring, temperatures rising steadily, causing the grass to turn bright green and the trees and shrubs to put out new leaves. Just one day after Prince George had returned to London, Mr Bennet was glad to see Lady Catherine taking her leave, he had felt more or less obliged to give her a good deal of attention because he was closest to her own age and well, it wouldn't do Lizzy any harm for her father to be on good terms with her husband's aunt. It gave the young people the opportunity to be together, and there was plenty of time left to spend in the library, hopefully with Mrs Annesley.

  Mr Bennet's nephew returned with his patroness, of course, but there was reason to believe that Mr Collins didn't regret the days away from his wife and child, he had been accepted back into the family fold by Darcy and was even admitted to the select company at headquarters on the second floor, where Darcy's sister and her friends planned a trip to the continent. To be sure they seemed to be mostly listening to music, from what Mr Collins had told him, but since there was no chance of Mr Collins ever crossing the North Sea, Mr Bennet believed he actually preferred music to poring over maps and discussing the situation with the French. Or learning German.

  Mr Collins had entered Lady Catherine's equipage with his head stuffed full of music, and a thick letter in his pocket, from Lizzy to Mrs Collins. He would be eager to return to his dear Charlotte and little William, and Mr Bennet dared think they might even have missed him. These last days, Will Collins had been an acceptable companion during dinner and when the ladies had retreated afterwards. Miracles did happen.

  But now it was time for another guest to leave, and this was someone Mr Bennet himself would miss more than a little. Darcy's London carriage would soon be ready, the large mares rested and eager to be back on the road, Mrs Annesley's travelling bag and her work safely stowed away inside, a thick pile of sketches added to the whole as the result of this visit.

  They were in her room on the second floor, taking half an hour to make this parting less painful, though it might be months before they had the chance to meet again. In that time Mrs Annesley would lose her husband, there was nothing they could do to stop that. She would not mourn a loved one, their love had been lost years ago when her dashing admirer had turned out to be an overbearing husband, but her children would be affected and the friend who had taken care of him on his long sickbed would be devastated.

  'Will you hold me one more time, Mr Bennet? I will face the time ahead as bravely as I need to, but I'd like to lean on someone for a few moments before I have to be strong again.'

  That was just incredible, Mrs Annesley seeking support from him? He took her in his arms and indeed, she actually clung to him and spilled a few tears.

  Words would only spoil the moment, so he held her firmly and dared rest his head on hers, standing together for what seemed a long time.

  Then she looked up at him and they kissed one last time before they would be separated for what would likely be months, unless he dared drop in on his return through London, maybe to convey his sympathies?

  'Thank you, Mr Bennet. I will remember this moment to help me cope with what is coming. I fear Mrs Floyd's reaction, I'm afraid she will go to pieces altogether and she has no-one to support her but me. I suppose she may even feel guilty about stealing my husband when I was away, we never talked about it, you see. But we will now, and maybe she will feel better for it. Will you write? May I write to you as long as you are here?'

  Was this a dream? The righteous lady who had insisted on keeping a certain distance wanted to risk writing? Yes, please!

  'If you would, I'd love that. And if you need me let me know, I'll find an excuse to visit London, and of course I'll stay in my daughter's house.'

  'That makes me feel better about leaving. I have had a great time, Mr Bennet, and I am eager to continue working on my art. Imagine what it woul
d be like if Prince George really came to visit.'

  'I have a suspicion he will, Mrs Annesley. If he does, please be careful, you know he has a reputation for liking older women with a lot of sophistication and talent.'

  'How you flatter me, Mr Bennet! I assure you he did not so much as look at me twice when he viewed my work, though he did study that minutely and praised it lavishly. But my person is of no interest to him. Besides, I like my men a bit more slender. Remember, I fell in love with a navy man.'

  That was the spirit, that was how she would survive the next months. It was still difficult to part, but with Mrs Annesley so positive Mr Bennet had good hope she would weather her husband's deterioration and passing well.

  One very last kiss and then she had to go, the carriage would be ready. Mr Bennet decided to risk the servants talking by accompanying the lady they knew as the Darcy's London housekeeper outside, to wave at until the carriage had disappeared out of sight across the bridge. When she was gone, he turned on his heels and headed towards the breakfast room, maybe there would be something exciting to do today, a hunt or at least a long ride. He could ask Lizzy to be included in those riding lessons that had given her such a magnificent seat, or he could match his billiards skills with Manners.

  Though with all the visitors gone and the first of a new batch to arrive Saturday, the young people might want to spend the larger part of the day together in their haunt on the second floor, and as someone who knew what they were really up to but had not been officially informed, he might not be welcome among them.

  After a long, cold winter it was so good to feel the warmth of the sun, and to exchange a thick winter coat for a much lighter one. Lydia's dresses and coat were nearly finished, just in time for her to see Jane and Kitty and then leave for Kent. Elizabeth hoped that Wickham had kept his promise and sent for Abbey, it would be such a surprise for Lydia not to have to start all over by herself in a new town.