The Darcys of Pemberley Page 5

  “Surely, you are joking, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy, facing him squarely. “You cannot seriously be considering going along with this farce.”

  “I honestly do not know. I believe that is why I am in such turmoil. Once the shock wore off, I began to think it at least possible that I should accept the bargain. It would obviously solve my money problems as well as satisfying my family’s demands. With every passing year, the pressure from my father increases. ‘You must get yourself a wife,’ he says, ‘the right kind of wife,’ by which of course he means ‘moneyed.’ If I must marry, I could do much worse. Anne is a sweet girl and vastly improved of late. In any case, it would be an enormous relief to have things settled; I could at least take comfort in that.”

  “But to marry without love, Fitzwilliam?” questioned Elizabeth.

  “I must face facts, my dear. Although I have known many charming and attractive women, I have never come remotely close to being in love. Perhaps I am not designed for grand passion. I do have a certain fondness for Anne, which in time might develop into something more. Many highly successful marriages begin on similar terms, so I suppose we might be just as content. I daresay we cannot all expect to be blessed with the uncommon felicity that you and Darcy have found together.”

  The three puzzled over the colonel’s dilemma late into the night, canvassing every inch of ground backwards and forwards and ending where they started, with no satisfactory solution to the problem.

  “At least remain and take your ease at Pemberley for a few days, until you are rested from your journey,” said Elizabeth at the conclusion of the conference. “Allow us to do that much for you.”

  “Yes, we will not hear of you leaving until your mind is more at peace,” agreed Darcy.

  “I thank you, but I am determined to press ahead tomorrow. Pemberley can afford me neither peace nor rest at the moment. I will not be easy until I confer with my father about the question at hand.”

  Fitzwilliam would not be dissuaded. However, before the three parted for the night, Darcy secured his pledge that he would neither decide in haste nor consent to the marriage under duress. Yet the colonel’s sagging shoulders and hanging head told the story; his promise notwithstanding, he bore the look of a man already defeated.

  Chapter 6

  New Neighbors

  Over breakfast next day, Georgiana necessarily contributed most of the cheer and an uncharacteristically generous proportion of the conversation. So occupied was she by giving their guest every possible attention, that she hardly seemed to notice the subdued tenor of her companions. Afterward, Fitzwilliam escorted Georgiana to the music room, having persuaded her to play for him once more. Thus solaced, he took his leave.

  When he was gone, Georgiana returned directly to her music.

  Elizabeth continued to watch the carriage as it receded into the distance, until the cloud of trailing dust finally obscured it from view. At length, she said, “I cannot believe Fitzwilliam could ever be happy in this marriage, Darcy, no matter how rational it can be made to sound. It pains me to see him looking so forlorn. Is there nothing we can do for him?”

  “We have offered every argument to show how insupportable such a compromise would be. Other than pray he makes the right decision in the end, I cannot think what more there is to be done. I only hope he will not be unduly influenced by his family’s expectations. Lady Catherine’s wishes he may ignore if he chooses; it will be much more difficult for him to defy his father’s.”

  Since indeed nothing more could be said or done for Fitzwilliam, they reluctantly abandoned the subject and moved on to another. As they reentered the house, Darcy asked, “Do you write to Jane today? If so, I will add a note to Bingley with some news.”

  “If you have news to share, I most certainly shall write. Have you found a suitable place for them so soon?” Elizabeth asked.

  “In point of fact, my investigation brought two excellent prospects to light.”

  So the correspondence was dispatched that day to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley and, as soon as could be expected, Jane’s reply came.

  Dearest Lizzy,

  How good it was to hear from you, and to know that the three of you are well. Not a day goes by without us thinking of you all. Mr. Bingley and I are exceedingly pleased to hear that your inquiries on our behalf met with more success than our own. We hope to follow this letter very shortly, and be with you at Pemberley inside of a week. Now that the vision of finding our new home appears within reach, we cannot bear to delay. All other news can wait until we see you.

  Affectionately Yours, Jane

  When the Bingleys arrived, Jane’s radiant countenance immediately revealed the “other news.” Her expectant state was soon confirmed, and a joyful celebration between the sisters ensued. The gentlemen were more restrained in their merrymaking; a vigorous handshake and hearty statement of congratulations served for them.

  “This looks to be a banner year for the Bingleys,” said Darcy, “not only an addition to the family, but possibly a new home as well.”

  Georgiana joined them, and they proceeded in to dinner. There Mr. Bingley, impatient with curiosity, pursued the topic of his prospective future residence with impressive diligence, asking his friend all manner of questions about the particulars of each estate – Northam Hall to the east, and Heatheridge House, to the west, in Staffordshire. However, since he had never before seen either place with his own eyes, Mr. Darcy’s supply of information was necessarily limited and soon exhausted. Nothing more could be known until a first-hand inspection could be arranged. So plans were then made to see the two candidates with as much dispatch as the distances involved would allow.

  When they were by themselves later, Elizabeth asked Jane, “Have you given our parents either or both of your important announcements yet?”

  Jane’s face fell. “Yes, I finally took courage and went to Longbourn a week ago. I told them about the baby first, hoping that it would make them so happy as not mind the other news so very much. But when I mentioned the move, Mama became almost frantic. She went on and on about what the event would do to her ‘poor nerves’ and how cruel it was to take her first grandchild so far away. As you might expect, Papa took the news more philosophically.”

  “Oh, dear, I can just imagine what you went through, but at least the worst is over now.”

  “I tried to explain, yet Mama persisted in taking our moving as a personal affront. I feel quite guilty, Lizzy, for causing her such pain.”

  “You have done nothing wrong, Jane, and you have never intentionally hurt a living creature in your life. You mustn’t allow her to upset you.”

  “I invited her to come and stay with me in the spring, when the baby is due. Hopefully that will make her content.”

  “I doubt that Mama will ever be truly content. She always said she could not be happy until we were married and settled, and now that we are, she bemoans the fact that her children are no longer with her. Perhaps it never occurred to her that the fulfillment of her wish would come at a cost. Nevertheless, she will learn to accept this; she has no choice. No doubt she will recover from the blow just as soon as she finds something else to worry about.”

  “Poor Mama. I do pity her.”

  “On a more cheerful subject, I have news of Charlotte to report,” Elizabeth said. “I had a letter from her a few days ago. It seems she must quit Hunsford parsonage within the month, when the new rector arrives. At first she thought her only choice would be to return to Lucas Lodge, at least temporarily. But a happy alternative has presented itself. You remember Mr. Collins’s sister, Mrs. Sanditon, whom we met at the funeral?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, she has been staying with Charlotte ever since, and they get on splendidly. Now, in honor of her late husband, Ruth’s brother-in-law has offered her the use of a cottage on his estate, which coincidentally is no more than ten miles from here. She should take possession of it in a matter of weeks, and Charlotte is to come with her! So it se
ems that you and Bingley will not be our only new neighbors.”

  “How delightful! Extraordinary that Ruth should have family in the area, is it not?”

  “Yes, I understand the estate – Reddclift, I believe it is called – lies just north of Kympton. Mr. Darcy has heard of it but is unacquainted with the family or their circumstances. I am sure that will soon be remedied, however.”

  ~*~

  On Sunday morning, the Bingleys accompanied the Darcys to church at Kympton, the parish adjoining Pemberley for which the Darcy family had the patronage. After the service, Mr. Darcy introduced them to the rector, and then inquired, “Tell me, Mr. Thornton, do you know Mr. Sanditon of Reddclift? We have just heard of him through a mutual acquaintance but have never met.”

  “Indeed, I do,” said Mr. Thornton, a pleasant-looking man of about thirty. “I have called on him more than once in the course of my duties, yet I am not surprised that your paths have never crossed. He admits to being something of a recluse, preferring to keep to himself.”

  “Other than that, which I shall never hold against him, what can you tell me about the gentleman?”

  “He is a man of sense and good breeding, I believe. A widower with two small daughters. I certainly saw no harm in him. I only suggested that he find his way to church with some regularity. Alas, that hope is yet to be realized,” Mr. Thornton added with ease and good humor.

  The Bingleys and the Darcys passed the remainder of the day quietly at Pemberley. Then over the next week, the two couples, with a sense of high adventure, traveled to Northam Hall and Heatheridge House in turn. Both estates proved entirely suitable, but the Bingleys expressed a decided preference for Heatheridge. Although by no means as grand as Pemberley, it was in some ways reminiscent of it, the house being situated on high ground with views of the verdant countryside in every direction. The Bingleys were so well pleased with the place that they determined to close on it as soon as possible.

  Since the subsequent meeting with the solicitor presented no insurmountable obstacles, Mr. Bingley struck an agreement that would place Heatheridge in his hands by Christmas. Plans for relocation commenced immediately. It was decided that Jane would stay at Pemberley to avoid the strain of travel whilst Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield to make arrangements for removing their household to Heatheridge.

  The night prior to Mr. Bingley’s departure was set aside for celebration – not so much in consequence of the new house as to honor the shared first wedding anniversary of the two couples. Georgiana joined them in commemorating the occasion, all partaking in a delectable late supper and a particularly fine wine selected to accompany it.

  After the others had gone up to bed, Darcy and Elizabeth lingered, side by side, in front of the drawing room fire, each lost in their own thoughts.

  “How distant I feel from my former life,” Elizabeth at last mused aloud. “I begin to remember my past as if someone else lived it … almost like a story I read in a book. Being here with you is all that seems real and true to me now.”

  Pulling her closer, he kissed the top of her head. “This is where we belong: together, at Pemberley.” They fell silent again, staring into the dancing flames a while longer. “Well, shall we go up?” Darcy asked at length. Not waiting for a reply, he stood, swept Elizabeth into his arms, and turned to carry her upstairs.

  “Why, Mr. Darcy!” she cried in surprise. “What will the servants say?”

  “Nothing at all, I should imagine. I have given them the night off in honor of our anniversary. So they have discreetly disappeared below stairs and left us to ourselves.”

  “You always manage everything so capably, my dear.”

  “Even you?” he asked, elevating one eyebrow.

  “Especially me,” Elizabeth said, allowing herself to be taken off to bed in her husband’s very capable arms.

  Chapter 7

  Sisterly Society

  Mr. Bingley departed for Netherfield directly after breakfast the next morning, and shortly thereafter Mr. Darcy and Georgiana excused themselves to practice their respective occupations of business and music. Jane and Elizabeth were thus left to their own society. Their conversation soon turned to family, a customary theme of mutual interest between them.

  “Have you heard anything from Lydia?” Elizabeth asked, knowing that their youngest sister kept a nearer correspondence with Jane than with herself.

  “Yes, I had a letter from her just before we left Netherfield, in fact.”

  “What did she have to say? Was it more of the usual complaint – an accounting of their unfortunate circumstances and hints for financial assistance?”

  “Lizzy, that is unkind!”

  “I suppose it is.” She sighed deeply. “Although I am fond of Lydia, I find it difficult to feel much compassion for her and for Wickham when their problems are entirely of their own making. I know you cannot bear to think ill of anybody, Jane, but I must say that I harbor little hope of their reform.”

  Elizabeth could more easily forgive than forget the pair’s offences. No passage of time could erase the treachery of Mr. Wickham, whose past was littered with incidents of fortune hunting, deception, slander, seduction, and gaming debts. For Lydia’s sake, the family had assisted him more than he was likely ever to deserve or appreciate. Yet despite all this, neither his character nor Lydia’s imprudent manner had undergone any material amendment.

  “So, what did Lydia have to say?” Elizabeth asked again.

  “She writes that Bingley and I are to expect a visit from them in January, and more importantly, that Mr. Wickham is to be discharged from the army in the spring. They will be looking for a cheap situation and some help for him in a profession.” Jane paused. “And … there are some debts to be discharged before they will be able to move forward,” she added with a grimace.

  “So they are seeking assistance again! Your noble words of protest notwithstanding, Jane, you must allow that I was right after all.”

  “Well, I said you were being unkind, Lizzy, not that you were wrong.”

  Although the subject was indeed serious, it suddenly struck them both as being equally ridiculous. In the end, there was no help for it; the sisters abandoned themselves to the tonic of laughter.

  The following weeks found Jane and Elizabeth reveling in each other’s company for hours every day, Georgiana with them as a third sister much of the time. The younger girl thrived on the companionship of her older counterparts. Through Elizabeth first and then Jane, she gleaned a wealth of knowledge and insight into the world of wedded life. Far from being a point of idle curiosity, it seemed that Georgiana hoped to put this information to some practical use in the not-too-distant future. She revealed as much when one of their private conversations gave her opening.

  “If I could but marry for love and live always near Pemberley, I believe I should be truly happy,” she said, daring a brief glance at Elizabeth before returning her attention to her needlework.

  “That sounds lovely, dear,” said her sister. “Do you have anyone in mind to play the role of your husband in this charming picture of connubial bliss? Your brother has taken great pains to see to it that you are introduced to suitable young men. Has one of them caught your fancy?”

  “No. Well ... not really,” she said, eyes downcast. “That is to say, there is someone I admire very much, but it would be impossible.”

  “Do not despair, Georgiana. The most surprising things do occur,” Jane encouraged. “Elizabeth and I are examples of that. You know our histories; what seemed out of the question once, ultimately came to pass.”

  “Yes, and in the meantime, try to keep open to other possibilities,” Elizabeth advised, pressing Georgiana’s hand. “Your future happiness may not lie where you think.”

  Elizabeth silently began to speculate about which gentleman Georgiana secretly admired. Finding so much satisfaction in her own marriage, she quite naturally took a strong interest in seeing those she loved similarly contented. Although she sometimes en
tertained herself with thoughts of matchmaking, Elizabeth had not yet gone so far as to interfere. Her mind simply possessed a proclivity for pairing up people, much as someone else might be forever matching fabrics with furnishings or wines with food.

  ~*~

  In early December, a communication from Charlotte Collins announced that she and Mrs. Sanditon had arrived at Reddclift cottage, and that they proposed to call at Pemberley as soon as they were settled. Elizabeth, along with Georgiana and Jane, received them with pleasure a few days later.

  “Welcome! I am so glad to see you both again,” Elizabeth said warmly, taking their hands in turn, as did Jane. “Charlotte, how do you do? You look vastly improved, to my eye.”

  “Indeed, I am feeling much better. Ruth has been a great help to me, and I daresay this move will be beneficial for us both. A fresh start in a new place cannot help but improve the spirits.”

  Elizabeth introduced their guests to Miss Darcy and then called for some refreshments to be served in the saloon. “I cannot tell you how delighted I am that the two of you are to be our neighbors,” she said as they seated themselves in a loose circle. “What a surprise it was, Mrs. Sanditon, to learn that you have a connection in the vicinity. Is your brother-in-law your only nearby relation, or is there more family hereabouts?”

  “Other than his two daughters, he has no one in Derbyshire. There is a married sister living in Northumberland, I believe.”