My Cousin Caroline: The acclaimed Pride and Prejudice sequel series The Pemberley Chronicles Book 6

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  “For shame, Fitzy, Isabella will not leave her husband, no more than I would have left you and gone off to Lambton to have our babies. Besides, she will not want to leave the school and her little pupils so soon after they've begun work. You should see them, all scrubbed and brushed and learning their letters! I would not dream of asking her to leave them. It would make Bella most unhappy and you would not want that, would you, dearest? I am sure you would not. No, I am afraid there's nothing for it, Fitzy, we must go. I have given her my word. “

  Fitzwilliam shook his head; there was not much he could do. He knew her well and when she had decided upon on a course of action, she would cajole, argue, and persuade relentlessly until she had achieved her object. For the most part, these were not self-indulgent demands; they were usually matters concerning the welfare of others, but that made little difference to the intensity with which Caroline would pursue her goal and promote her purpose. During his own political career, Fitzwilliam had often had reason to be grateful for her persistence and charm.

  He had been attracted by her beauty and sweetness of disposition and loved her for her passion, her loyalty, and her determination. She had frequently astonished and delighted him and sometimes, very rarely, exasperated him.

  But, he loved her dearly and had never tried to change her. He would not do so, now. “Caroline,” he said, reaching for her hand, “you are quite incorrigible!”

  A list of the main characters in My Cousin Caroline:

  Caroline Gardiner—eldest daughter of Mr and Mrs Gardiner, wife of

  Colonel Fitzwilliam—cousin of Mr Darcy of Pemberley

  Edward, Isabella, David, Rachel, Amy, and James—children of Caroline and Colonel Fitzwilliam

  Emily Gardiner—Caroline's younger sister

  Richard and Robert Gardiner—Caroline's brothers

  James Fitzwilliam—cousin of Mr Darcy, elder brother of Col. Fitzwilliam

  Rosamund (neé Camden)—his wife

  Rose—their daughter

  Cassandra, William, and Julian Darcy—children of Mr and Mrs Darcy

  Jonathan and Emma Bingley—son and daughter of Mr and Mrs Bingley

  Edward and Darcy Gardiner—sons of Cassandra and Richard Gardiner

  Lizzie and Laura Ann—daughters of Cassy and Richard

  Anthony Tate—owner of a local newspaper, nephew of Sir Thomas Camden

  Rebecca Tate (neé Collins)—his wife (daughter of Charlotte Collins)

  Josie—their daughter

  Mr and Mrs Henderson—the new tenants of Newland Hall

  Mr Philip Bentley—a newcomer to Derbyshire, son of Mrs Henderson

  Maria and Frances Henderson—his stepsisters, daughters of Mr Henderson

  Mr Peter Kennedy—an accountant, employed by Mr Gardiner's company

  From the pages of Pride and Prejudice:

  Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy

  Colonel Fitzwilliam—Mr Darcy's cousin

  Charles and Jane Bingley

  Mr and Mrs Bennet—parents of Jane and Lizzie

  Mr and Mrs Gardiner—uncle and aunt of Jane and Lizzie

  Charlotte Collins (neé Lucas)—childhood friend of Jane and Lizzie

  Reverend Collins of Hunsford—Charlotte's husband

  The author wishes to thank all those who have written to her or emailed reviews and comments on the books of The Pemberley Chronicles series, which have been a source of much encouragement and pleasure.

  Special thanks to Ms Claudia Taylor for help with research and Ms Marissa O'Donnell for the artwork. Ben and Robert for technical assistance, Beverly for her wonderful website, and my dear Rose for her untiring efforts in the office.

  To Miss Jane Austen, my heartfelt gratitude for enjoyment and inspiration, and to Ms Susannah Fullerton of the Jane Austen Society of Australia, many thanks for her interest and support.

  —Rebecca Ann Collins, www.geocities.com/shadesofpemberley

  A lifelong fan of Jane Austen, Rebecca Ann Collins first read Pride and Prejudice at the tender age of twelve. She fell in love with the characters and since then has devoted years of research and study to the life and works of her favorite author. As a teacher of literature and a librarian, she has gathered a wealth of information about Miss Austen and the period in which she lived and wrote, which became the basis of her books about the Pemberley families. The popularity of the Pemberley novels with Jane Austen fans has been her reward.

  With a love of reading, music, art, and gardening, Ms Collins claims she is very comfortable in the period about which she writes and feels great empathy with the characters she portrays. While she enjoys the convenience of modern life, she finds much to admire in the values and worldview of Jane Austen.

  Chapter One

  JESSICA'S MEMORIES OF LIZZIE GARDINER'S wedding day were filled with a myriad of impressions that crowded upon one another. The happy lovers and their contented families predominated, coming together for a great celebration at Pemberley, where Mr and Mrs Darcy watched with pleasure as their grand daughter was married to Mr Michael Carr, a gentleman they had come to admire and respect. There were other recollections too, not all of which she wished to share with the rest of her family.

  Jessica had dressed with some care for the occasion, in a becoming but simple gown, resisting the temptation to have a new one made. She knew that Julian was expected, although there had been some concern that he may not arrive in time, since he had to travel all the way from France; nevertheless, she was confident he would be there.

  Several months had passed between the time of his departure from Derbyshire and Lizzie's wedding in the autumn of 1866. To her surprise, not long after he had left Pemberley, a letter had arrived for her from Cambridge and upon her having sent a short reply, she had received another from Paris, whither he had gone to attend an urgent meeting of the medical board.

  Both communications had been completely devoid of any descriptions of experiments, successful or otherwise, or microscopic bacteria, for that matter. Instead they contained references to many matters of mutual interest, including quite a detailed description of the part of Paris in which his lodgings were situated. Jessica had been delighted.

  The first, which had arrived barely a week after his departure, began with the usual courtesies but then went on to speak of the arrangements he was making at the university as well as his attendance at a concert of chamber music, which he had greatly enjoyed. She recalled that he had confessed to a growing interest in music, which, he said apologetically, he had neglected all his life. Jessica, a proficient and keen student of music, had encouraged him.

  “I cannot imagine life without music; I lay no claim to great talent but I have an abiding love of music that sustains me at all times; without it my life would be poor indeed,” she had said and he, inspired by her enthusiasm, had promised faithfully to maintain his interest.

  His letter had concluded with a paragraph of such warmth and sincerity that she returned to read it again and again.

  He wrote:

  Finally, I cannot send this away without telling you of the happy discovery I have made, when packing my things to be sent over to France. There among my personal papers and books was a collection of poems presented to me by your aunt Caroline Fitzwilliam and in it is Keats' Ode – To a Nightingale, which instantly brought back delightful memories of your reading it at Pemberley.

  It was a recollection replete with feelings of gratitude for your generosity and kindness to me, during a time that was particularly painful for me and indeed, distressing for us all.

  I shall be happy to take it with me to France and look forward to the day when I may have the pleasure of hearing you read it again.

  In her response, which had taken Jessica quite some time and many sheets of notepaper to compose, she had striven to appear detached though friendly. She had written of their preparations for the start of the school term and the arrival of the new schoolmaster, Mr Hurst, who was to teach the older boys.

  She wro
te:

  Mr Hurst is an interesting man, though he must surely be quite old (Mama thinks he could be forty five, but I believe he must be fifty years old at least) he is surprisingly unlike any of the teachers one reads of in Mr Dickens' books. He is soft spoken and considerate and does not appear to have that accessory of all school masters: a cane.

  What is more, he is a veritable treasure house of information on every subject under the sun. For instance, I did not know that Mr Darwin who wrote the “Origin of Species” had married the daughter of Mr Josiah Wedgwood, the owner of the great Staffordshire potteries. Did you? Nor was I familiar with the name of his ship, The Beagle. Is that not an odd name for a ship?

  Mr Hurst knows all the details of the ship's amazing voyage to the other side of the world and the excessively weird and wonderful creatures they saw there!

  In answer to a question, he informed Mr Darcy very gravely that he intended to teach the boys more than reading, writing and numbers—he plans to satisfy their natural curiosity by introducing them to Science and Nature through everyday things in their lives, he says. Mr Darcy seemed rather puzzled by this approach, but I must admit I look forward to seeing the results of Mr Hurst's work.

  Thank you for reminding me of Keats' Nightingale, I am glad to learn that you have a copy to take to France; it is a beautiful piece and a favourite of mine, as you know. I am sure you will find time to read it yourself in Paris; it will remind you of home.

  I trust you are well, as we all are

  God Bless you,…

  Jessica Courtney

  Then, as if suddenly deciding to abandon the pretence of being cautious and impersonal, she had added a postscript, in which she said she had heard he was arranging to travel from France to attend Lizzie's wedding in the autumn.

  If this is the case, I expect we shall meet at Pemberley. I did so enjoy our conversations when you were last here and hope there will be time to talk some more, she had said, hoping it would not be considered too forthright.

  To this there had been no response for some weeks, leaving her anxious and concerned lest she had offended him, however unwittingly.

  She had waited daily for the post in a state of anxiety and no letter had been delivered, until a few days before young Lizzie's wedding day, when it had arrived, postmarked from Paris.

  Late, short, but to her exceedingly sweet, it brought an apology for the delay in responding to hers and assured her that he would indeed be seeing her at Lizzie's wedding, adding also that afterwards, he expected to stay a few weeks at least at Pemberley before returning to France, during which time, he supposed, there should be plenty of time for the happy conversations they had both enjoyed so much.

  It was a prospect that filled her with a confusion of delight and trepidation.

  Julian Darcy's stay at Pemberley, at first set to be a fortnight, was extended to three weeks and more, as he surrendered to the persuasive arguments of his parents and the ambient pleasures of Pemberley in late Autumn. He spent much of the time with Mr and Mrs Darcy and his son Anthony, thereby bringing much happiness to all of them.

  Elizabeth was especially pleased to see how much calmer and more confident her son had become since the previous year, when beset with a plethora of troubles, he had appeared to lose both direction and interest in his life.

  As his sister Cassandra wrote to her cousin Emma Wilson:

  Since Lizzie's wedding, Julian has been at Pemberley and he is a man transformed! He seems far more at peace with himself and at times appears almost happy to be here with us. I can only pray he will remain so…

  As for Jessica, the period of his stay proved to be one of particular pleasure. While her days were spent chiefly at the school, she would frequently return in the afternoon to Pemberley, where Julian would join her for tea in the sitting room. The hours were filled with long, relaxed conversations on every subject available for discussion or readings from books which they selected at random, mainly to please one another, often continuing until the servants came to light the lamps and it was time to dress for dinner.

  At dinner, when they were joined by Mr and Mrs Darcy and occasionally, the Bingleys, Fitzwilliams, or Cassy and Richard Gardiner, Julian would be the centre of attention, called upon to satisfy their guests' curiosity and answer questions about his work and the political situation in France, while Jessica listened. Later, however, he would join the ladies in the drawing room, usually leaving the gentlemen to their port and discussions of political and commercial matters, which seemed not to hold his interest at all. Then, his attention was all hers, as she played or read to please the company.

  Jessica had many happy memories of these evenings, of conversations all invariably interesting to her, filled as they were with tales of people and places she had never seen or heard of before. He had told her so much about France, which she had not known before. She was as much enthralled by its recent bloody history as by its ancient culture and current sophistication.

  Julian had detailed to her the idealism as well as the ferocity of the French revolution, yet balanced them with pictures of French music, art and architecture that were the envy of Europe.

  “It is indeed a place of great contradictions, Jessica, yet one that has an undeniable grasp upon me. I realise that it is not fashionable in some circles to profess admiration for the French—we have had some bitter battles in the past—but the country fascinates me like no other place on earth.”

  “It is well that it does, since you are determined to live and work there,” she had remarked, and asked, “Do you expect to spend much more time in France?”

  He had replied, “No, not unless something untoward occurs to thwart our plans. We expect to leave for Africa in Spring, before the rains begin. Arrangements are already afoot for our journey and I expect to know a firm date for our departure very soon.”

  “And you are looking forward to it, of course?”

  “Yes indeed, it will be the culmination of more than a year's preparation.”

  Jessica had expressed some apprehension. “Will it be a dangerous expedition?” she asked.

  His reply, though calculated to allay her fears, had been honest.

  “All expeditions to places such as Africa or South America, where so little is known of the environment, are fraught with some danger. But I am assured by my French colleagues that the native peoples of the areas we intend to study are generally friendly. They are familiar with foreigners and unlike some of the coastal tribes, whose experience of Europeans is tainted by the memory of the slave trade, these places are free of that scourge, thank God.”

  Despite these assurances, Jessica remained concerned.

  One afternoon, when they had met as she had walked home through the park to Pemberley, she asked, “I cannot help wondering if you will be safe in Africa—I know your mama worries, too. Will you write, if only to reassure us that you are well?”

  He had smiled and replied, “Of course, it is kind of you to be concerned; but be aware there is no penny post and letters must be carried to the ports and be shipped out to England. I mention this because I should not wish you to think, if there were to be a long delay in the arrival of a letter, that I had not kept my word.”

  She had protested strenuously, “I should never think that—but I am glad to be forewarned of the difficulties, else I may have thought that the letters had gone astray and been anxious. Now, I know I shall just have to be patient.”

  “Are you always so patient, Jessica?” he had asked, with some degree of amusement, to which she replied candidly, “Indeed, I am not. Not always, at any rate. I am patient when circumstances are so fixed, there is no help for it and nothing will change the situation. But I have to confess I am impatient when unnecessary obstacles arise; I am eager to learn and discover new ideas and long to see and experience what I have read. Yet it is often impossible. I am far from being patient about such matters.”

  “Such as?' he persisted.

  “All sorts of things—t
hings that excite my imagination, I suppose. I should love to feel the salt spray of the sea in a storm or the bustle of London streets, perhaps to walk those beautiful boulevardes of Paris with their elegant buildings and see the great works of art in their galleries. You and others have spoken of these things—I long to know how it feels to be there. Men are so very fortunate, to be able to travel and work where you please. I do envy you and I am impatient that we have not the same freedom.”