by P. D. James
The colonel’s visit had destroyed her peace, leaving her worried and a little distressed. He was right in saying he should not have mentioned Wickham’s name. Darcy himself had had no contact with him since they met at the church when Lydia was married, a marriage which could never have taken place without his lavish expenditure of money. She was confident that this secret had never been divulged to Colonel Fitzwilliam, but he had, of course, known of the marriage and he must have suspected the truth. Was he, she wondered, attempting to reassure himself that Wickham had no part in their life at Pemberley and that Darcy had bought Wickham’s silence to ensure that the world would never be able to say that Miss Darcy of Pemberley had a sullied reputation? The colonel’s visit had made her restless and she began pacing to and fro, trying to calm fears which she hoped were irrational and to regain some of her former composure.
Luncheon with only four of them at the table was brief. Darcy had an appointment with his steward and had returned to his study to wait for him. Elizabeth had arranged to meet Georgiana in the conservatory where they would inspect the blooms and green boughs the head gardener had brought from the hothouses. Lady Anne had liked many colours and complicated arrangements but Elizabeth preferred to use only two colours with the green and to arrange them in a variety of vases, large and small, so that every room contained sweet-smelling flowers. Tomorrow the colours would be pink and white, and Elizabeth and Georgiana worked and consulted among the pungent scent of long-stemmed roses and geraniums. The hot, humid atmosphere of the conservatory was oppressive and she had a sudden wish to breathe fresh air and feel the wind on her cheeks. Was it perhaps the unease occasioned by Georgiana’s presence and the colonel’s confidence which lay like a burden on the day?
Suddenly Mrs Reynolds was with them. She said, ‘Dear madam, Mr and Mrs Bingley’s coach is coming up the drive. If you hurry you will be at the door to receive them.’
Elizabeth gave a cry of delight and, with Georgiana following, ran to the front door. Stoughton was already there to open it just as the carriage drew slowly to a stop. Elizabeth ran out into the cool breath of the rising wind. Her beloved Jane had arrived and for a moment all her unease was subsumed in the happiness of their meeting.
2
The Bingleys were not long at Netherfield after their marriage. Bingley was the most tolerant and good-natured of men but Jane realised that being in such close proximity to her mother would not contribute to her husband’s comfort or her peace of mind. She had a naturally affectionate nature and her loyalty and love for her family were strong, but Bingley’s happiness came first. Both had been anxious to settle close to Pemberley and when their lease at Netherfield ended, they stayed for a short time in London with Mrs Hurst, Bingley’s sister, and then moved with some relief to Pemberley, a convenient centre from which to search for a permanent home. In this Darcy took an active part. Darcy and Bingley had been to the same school but the difference in age, although of only a couple of years, meant that they saw little of each other in boyhood. It was at Oxford that they became friends. Darcy – proud, reserved and already ill at ease in company – found relief in Bingley’s generous good nature, easy sociability and cheerful assumption that life would always be good to him, and Bingley had such faith in Darcy’s superior wisdom and intelligence that he was reluctant to take any action on matters of importance without his friend’s approbation.
Darcy had advised Bingley to buy rather than build, and as Jane was already carrying their first child, it seemed desirable to find a home urgently, and one into which they could move with the minimum of inconvenience. It was Darcy, active on his friend’s behalf, who found Highmarten, and both Jane and her husband were delighted with it at first sight. It was a handsome modern house built on rising ground with a wide attractive view from all its windows, commodious enough for family life and with well laid-out gardens and a manor large enough for Bingley to hold shooting parties without inviting unfavourable comparison with Pemberley. Dr McFee, who for years had looked after the Darcy family and the Pemberley household, had visited and pronounced the situation healthy and the water pure, and the formalities were quickly settled. Little was required except the purchase of furniture and redecoration, and Jane, with Elizabeth’s help, had much pleasure in moving from room to room, deciding on the colour of wallpaper, paint and curtains. Within two months of finding the property, the Bingleys were installed and the two sisters’ happiness in their marriages was complete.
The two families saw each other frequently and there were few weeks in which a carriage did not travel between Highmarten and Pemberley. Jane would very rarely be parted from her children for more than a night – the four-year-old twins, Elizabeth and Maria, and young Charles Edward, now nearly two – but knew that they could be safely left in the experienced and competent hands of Mrs Metcalf, the nurse who had cared for her husband when a baby, and she was happy to spend two nights at Pemberley for the ball without the problems inevitable in transferring three children and their nurse for so short a visit. She had, as always, come without her maid, but Elizabeth’s capable young maid, Belton, was happy to look after both sisters. The Bingleys’ coach and coachman were consigned to the care of Wilkinson, Darcy’s coachman, and after the customary bustle of greeting, Elizabeth and Jane, arm in arm, climbed the stairs to the room always assigned to Jane on her visits, with Bingley’s dressing room next door. Belton had already taken charge of Jane’s trunk and was hanging up her evening dress and the gown she would wear for the ball and would be with them in an hour to help them change and to dress their hair. The sisters, who had shared a bedroom at Longbourn, had been particularly close companions since childhood and there was no matter on which Elizabeth could not speak to Jane, knowing that she would be totally reliable in keeping a confidence and that any advice she gave would come from her goodness and loving heart.
As soon as they had spoken to Belton they went as usual to the nursery to give Charles the expected hug and sweetmeat, to play with Fitzwilliam and listen to his reading – he was soon to leave the nursery for the schoolroom and a tutor – and to settle down for a brief but comfortable chat with Mrs Donovan. She and Mrs Metcalf had fifty years’ experience between them and the two benevolent despots had early established a close alliance, defensive and offensive, and ruled supreme in their nurseries, beloved by their charges and trusted by the parents, although Elizabeth suspected that Mrs Donovan thought the only function of a mother was to produce a new baby for the nursery as soon as the youngest had outgrown his first caps. Jane gave news about the progress of Charles Edward and the twins and their regime at Highmarten was discussed and approved by Mrs Donovan, not surprisingly since it was the same as hers. There was then only an hour before it was time to dress for dinner so they made their way to Elizabeth’s room for the comfortable exchange of small items of news on which the happiness of domestic life so largely depended.
It would have been a relief to Elizabeth to have confided to Jane about a more important concern, the colonel’s intended proposal to Georgiana. But although he had not enjoined secrecy, he must surely have expected that she would first talk to her husband, and Elizabeth felt that Jane’s delicate sense of honour would be offended, as would be her own, if her sister were given the news before Elizabeth had had a chance to speak to Darcy. But she was anxious to talk about Henry Alveston and was glad when Jane herself introduced his name by saying, ‘It is good of you to again include Mr Alveston in your invitation. I know how much it means to him to come to Pemberley.’
Elizabeth said, ‘He is a delightful guest and we are both glad to see him. He is well mannered, intelligent, lively and good looking, and is therefore a paradigm of a young man. Remind me how he became intimate with you. Did not Mr Bingley meet him at your lawyer’s office in London?’
‘Yes, eighteen months ago, when Charles was visiting Mr Peck to discuss some investments. Mr Alveston had been called to the office with a view to his representing one of Mr Peck’s clients in cou
rt and, as both visitors arrived early, they met in the waiting room and later Mr Peck introduced them. Charles was greatly taken with the young man and they had dinner together afterwards when Mr Alveston confided his plan to restore the family fortune and the estate in Surrey, which his family has held since 1600 and to which, as an only son, he feels a strong obligation and attachment. They met again at Charles’s club and it was then that Charles, struck by the young man’s look of exhaustion, issued an invitation in both our names for him to spend a few days at Highmarten; Mr Alveston has since become a regular and welcome visitor whenever he can get away from court. We understand that Mr Alveston’s father, Lord Alveston, is eighty and in poor health and for some years has been unable to provide the energy and leadership which the estate requires, but the barony is one of the oldest in the country and the family is well respected. Charles learned from Mr Peck, and indeed from others, how much Mr Alveston is admired in the Middle Temple, and both of us have become fond of him. He is a hero to young Charles Edward and a great favourite with the twins who always receive his visits with frisks of delight.’
To be good with her children was a sure path to Jane’s heart and Elizabeth could well understand the attraction of Highmarten for Alveston. The life of an overworked bachelor in London could offer little comfort and Alveston obviously found in Mrs Bingley’s beauty, her kindness and gentle voice, and in the cheerful domesticity of her home, a welcome contrast to the raucous competition and social demands of the capital. Alveston, like Darcy, had early assumed the burden of expectations and responsibility. His resolve to restore the family fortune was admirable, and the Old Bailey, its challenges and successes, were probably a prototype of a more personal struggle.
There was a silence, then Jane said, ‘I hope that neither you, my dear sister, nor Mr Darcy is made uneasy by his presence here. I must confess that, watching his and Georgiana’s obvious pleasure in each other’s company, I thought it possible that Mr Alveston might be falling in love, and if that would distress Mr Darcy or Georgiana we shall, of course, ensure that the visits cease. But he is an estimable young man and if I am right in my suspicion and Georgiana returns his partiality, I have every confidence that they could be happy together, but Mr Darcy may have other plans for his sister and, if so, it may be both wise and kind that Mr Alveston should no longer come to Pemberley. I have noticed during recent visits that there is a change in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attitude to his cousin, a greater willingness to talk with her and to be at her side. It would be a brilliant match and she would adorn it, but I do wonder how happy she would be in that vast northern castle. I saw a picture of it last week in a book in our library. It looks like a granite fortress with the North Sea almost breaking against its walls. And it is so far from Pemberley. Surely Georgiana would be unhappy to be so distant from her brother and the house she loves so well.’
Elizabeth said, ‘I suspect that with both Mr Darcy and Georgiana, Pemberley comes first. I remember when I visited with my aunt and uncle, and Mr Darcy asked me what I thought of the house, my obvious delight in it pleased him. If I had been less than genuinely enthusiastic I don’t think he would have married me.’
Jane laughed. ‘Oh, I think he would, my dear. But perhaps we should not discuss this matter further. Gossip about the feelings of others when we cannot fully understand them, and they may not understand them themselves, can be a cause of distress. Perhaps I was wrong to mention the colonel’s name. I know, my dear Elizabeth, how much you love Georgiana and, living with you as her sister, she has grown into a more assured as well as a beautiful young woman. If she has indeed two suitors the choice must of course be hers, but I cannot imagine she would consent to marry against her brother’s wishes.’
Elizabeth said, ‘The matter may come to a head after the ball, but I own that it is an anxiety to me. I have grown to love Georgiana dearly. But let us put it aside for now. We have the family dinner to look forward to. I must not spoil it for either of us or our guests by worries which may be groundless.’
They said no more, but Elizabeth knew that for Jane there could be no problem. She believed firmly that two attractive young people who obviously enjoyed each other’s company might very naturally fall in love and that love should result in a happy marriage. And here there could be no difficulty about money: Georgiana was rich and Mr Alveston rising in his profession. But money weighed little with Jane; provided there was sufficient for a family to live in comfort, what matter which partner it was who brought money to the union? And the fact, which to others would be paramount, that the colonel now was a viscount and that his wife would in time become a countess while Mr Alveston would be only a baron, would weigh nothing with Jane. Elizabeth resolved that she would attempt not to dwell on possible difficulties but that, after the ball, she must soon find an early opportunity to talk to her husband. Both had been so busy that she had hardly set eyes on him since morning. She would not be justified in speculating to him about Mr Alveston’s feelings unless Mr Alveston or Georgiana raised the matter, but he should be told as soon as possible of the colonel’s intention to speak of his hope that Georgiana would consent to be his wife. She wondered why the thought of such an alliance, brilliant as it was, gave her an unease which she could not reason away, and tried to put this uncomfortable feeling aside. Belton had arrived and it was time for Jane and herself to get ready for dinner.
3
On the eve of the ball, dinner was served at the customary and fashionable hour of six thirty but when the numbers were few it was usual for it to be held in a small room adjacent to the formal dining room, where up to eight could sit in comfort at the round table. In past years the larger room had been necessary because the Gardiners, and occasionally Bingley’s sisters, had been guests at Pemberley for the ball, but Mr Gardiner never found it easy to leave his business, nor his wife to be parted from her children. What they both liked best was a summer visit when Mr Gardiner could enjoy the fishing and his wife enjoyed nothing better than to explore the grounds with Elizabeth in a single-horse phaeton. The friendship between the two women was long-standing and close and Elizabeth had always valued her aunt’s advice. There were matters on which she would have been glad of it now.
Although the dinner was informal, the party naturally moved together to enter the dining room in pairs. The colonel at once offered his arm to Elizabeth, Darcy moved to Jane’s side and Bingley, with a little show of gallantry, offered his arm to Georgiana. Seeing Alveston walking alone behind the last pair, Elizabeth wished she had arranged things better, but it was always difficult to find a suitable unescorted lady at short notice and convention had not before mattered at these pre-ball dinners. The empty chair was between Georgiana and Bingley, and when Alveston took it, Elizabeth detected his transitory smile of pleasure.
As they seated themselves the colonel said, ‘So Mrs Hopkins is not with us again this year. Isn’t this the second time she has missed the ball? Does your sister not enjoy dancing, or has the Reverend Theodore theological objections to a ball?’
Elizabeth said, ‘Mary has never been fond of dancing and has asked to be excused, but her husband has certainly no objection to her taking part. He told me on the last occasion when they dined here that in his view no ball at Pemberley attended by friends and acquaintances of the family could have a deleterious effect on either morals or manners.’
Bingley whispered to Georgiana, ‘Which shows that he has never imbibed Pemberley white soup.’
The remark was overheard and provoked smiles and some laughter. But this light-heartedness was not to last. There was an absence of the usual eager talk across the table, and a languor from which even Bingley’s good-humoured volubility seemed unable to rouse them. Elizabeth tried not to glance too frequently at the colonel, but when she did she was aware how often his eyes were fixed on the couple opposite. It seemed to Elizabeth that Georgiana, in her simple dress of white muslin with a chaplet of pearls in her dark hair, had never appeared more lovely, but there wa
s in the colonel’s gaze a look more speculative than admiring. Certainly the young couple behaved impeccably, Alveston showing Georgiana no more attention than was natural, and Georgiana turning to address her remarks equally between Alveston and Bingley, like a young girl dutifully following social convention at her first dinner party. There was one moment, which she hoped the colonel had not detected. Alveston was mixing Georgiana’s water and wine and, for a few seconds, their hands touched and Elizabeth saw the faint flush grow and fade on Georgiana’s cheeks.
Seeing Alveston in his formal evening clothes, Elizabeth was struck again by his extraordinary good looks. He was surely not unaware that he could not enter a room without every woman present turning her eyes towards him. His strong mid-brown hair was tied back simply at the nape of his neck. His eyes were a darker brown under straight brows, his face had an openness and strength which saved him from any imputation of being too handsome, and he moved with a confident and easy grace. As she knew, he was usually a lively and entertaining guest, but tonight even he seemed afflicted by the general air of unease. Perhaps, she thought, everyone was tired. Bingley and Jane had come only eighteen miles but had been delayed by the high wind, and for Darcy and herself the day before the ball was always unusually busy.
The atmosphere was not helped by the tempest outside. From time to time the wind howled in the chimney, the fire hissed and spluttered like a living thing and occasionally a burning log would break free, bursting into spectacular flames and casting a momentary red flush over the faces of the diners so that they looked as if they were in a fever. The servants came and went on silent feet, but it was a relief to Elizabeth when the meal at last came to an end and she was able to catch Jane’s eye and move with her and Georgiana across the hall into the music room.
