***
With the last of his daughters married, Bingley was in a light-hearted mood. “It will be your turn next,” he said to Emma and James Wilson. “I cannot honestly remember an occasion, since we went to Netherfield and met the beautiful Bennet girls, on which I have heard so many compliments for two young women as I have heard today for young Victoria and Stephanie. I am sure it will not be long before you have their suitors beating a path to your door.”
Both Emma and James laughed. “Oh dear, I do believe you are exaggerating, Papa,” said Emma modestly. “I acknowledge they are pretty and they are both accomplished and very well taught, but anyone who expects them to wed in a hurry is bound to be disappointed. Vicky is eager to complete her studies in music. As for Stephanie, who is not yet seventeen, her schoolmistress, Mrs Harris, informs me that Stephanie is her brightest pupil. She excels in Literature and History.” Having had an education at one of the best ladies’ seminaries herself, Emma had always encouraged her daughters to read widely. It was plain that Emma, unlike her infamous grandmother Mrs Bennet, was in no hurry to be rid of her daughters.
The wedded couples having finally got away, the rest of the guests wandered around Pemberley’s beautiful grounds while they waited for their carriages. As they departed and the servants began to clear away the remains of the wedding feast, the family moved indoors.
The Tates, Anthony and Rebecca, now bound to Pemberley by the strongest of family ties as well as friendship, joined them in the drawing room.
An hour or so later, Charlotte bade her dear friends farewell. “I must leave, Eliza. I am to stay with Rebecca and Anthony for a week or two, while Mary goes to Ashford Park with Jane and Mr Bingley,” she said, and as the two women embraced, it was hard for both to hold back the tears.
They had grown up together and, despite occasional disagreements, had remained faithful friends, now brought even closer through the marriage of Josie and Julian. Charlotte was surely aware of the ironies that surrounded this happy event, for it had been through the Bennets that she had met and married their cousin, Mr Collins. Later, her invitation to Elizabeth had led to the meetings with Mr Darcy at Rosings, where the feelings he believed he had successfully suppressed at Netherfield had been rekindled and had led ultimately to their engagement.
Elizabeth was certainly sensitive to them, and while she gave no sign of it to her friend as they said goodbye, when she went upstairs with Jane and her Aunt Gardiner to take tea in her sitting room, there was no shortage of amusing comment on the subject.
Ever the romantic, Jane could not resist the attraction of an incipient love affair in their circle. “Lizzie, I am sure Amy Fitzwilliam will be the next bride in the family; she is so much like Caroline used to be. I did notice she had several admirers today, including young Mr Grantley.”
Mrs Gardiner, who was Amy’s grandmother, agreed she was indeed a beauty, much as her mother had been, but added, “I think there may have been some disappointment there, Jane, for while I cannot vouch for it, I have felt that Amy had a soft spot in her heart for Julian.”
“Now there would have been a match after Mama’s heart, God bless her soul,” cried Elizabeth, pouring out the tea, “and if I were to be absolutely honest, I would have to admit to being quite partial to young Amy myself. She is not only beautiful, but though she is just eighteen, she shows remarkable intelligence and good sense. She also works very willingly for the community at both the parish school and the library. You might say a daughter-in-law after my own heart, in fact.”
“Would you have preferred it, Lizzie?” asked her sister.
Elizabeth answered, with a degree of circumspection, “I cannot deny that I had hoped Julian might have been interested, but sadly, it was not to be. Since last Christmas, he has had eyes for no one but Josie, who we must acknowledge has a good deal more to say for herself, though she is nowhere near as pretty as Amy. Darcy believes she and Julian are well suited,” she said. “Poor Mama, can you imagine how angry she must be at Charlotte’s granddaughter marrying her grandson? She was barely civil to Charlotte when she became engaged to Mr Collins, and so desperately did she fear that the Collinses would throw us out of Longbourn, that she never invited them back after they were married. Oh Jane, what complaint we would have had to endure, had Mama lived to see this wedding day?”
“Mercifully, she was spared having to see my Jonathan marry Amelia-Jane,” said her sister, recalling Mrs Bennet’s plans for her grandchildren. “She was quite determined that Jonathan should marry into a county family, at the very least. She would never have been satisfied with a mere clergyman’s daughter!”
“Especially if that clergyman happened to be the reviled Mr Collins!” said Elizabeth, warming to her subject.
Mrs Gardiner reminded them that their mother was not always wrong. “And yet, Jane, it must be acknowledged that in your case at least your Mama was absolutely right,” she said.
“Indeed, she was,” said Elizabeth brightly. “Dear Bingley had hardly set foot in the county before she determined that he was going to marry one of her girls, and soon there was no doubt at all which of us it would be. ‘Oh, I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing, Jane,’” she said, mimicking Mrs Bennet, whose dearest wish had come true when Bingley and Jane became engaged.
Jane blushed at the memory, even after all these years. “But Lizzie, you cannot pretend that she was not equally pleased by your engagement to Darcy,” she said and Lizzie’s riposte was swift.
“No, indeed, she was completely overwhelmed, even though she had, only that afternoon, commiserated with me for having had to put up with ‘that disagreeable man’ for two days in a row, while begging me to remember it was all for your sake, Jane.”
Jane did not mind being teased, but preferred to divert attention to her sister-in-law. “Lizzie, how do you suppose Caroline Bingley must feel about Charlotte’s daughter marrying Mr Darcy’s son?” she asked with a degree of mock innocence that Elizabeth found vastly amusing.
“Oh, Jane, you are quite right to be concerned. Among the denizens of Bath, there must have been great outrage! The very thought that the shades of Pemberley could be even further polluted must have brought on an attack of the vapours,” said Elizabeth mischievously. “We were not at all surprised that neither the Hursts nor Miss Bingley could make the journey for the wedding. Lady Catherine is genuinely unwell, and Mr Hurst’s gout must present a problem, but Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley must surely have had no good reason except snobbery. They were so unforgivably rude to both Charlotte and Sir William Lucas that it must be mortifying indeed for Caroline, who once had high hopes for herself, to acknowledge that young Josie will one day be the Mistress of Pemberley.”
Jane and Mrs Gardiner could only agree.
There were so many happy memories to recall that the afternoon was spent in the greatest merriment. Content in their own marriages, which had brought them both love and happiness, while enhancing considerably their well-being and material security, they needed only to pray that their hopes for their children would be similarly fulfilled.
Jane had known the agony of seeing a daughter suffer the pain of an unhappy marriage. “My greatest joy, Lizzie, is that Emma is now happily settled with James. I had always thought well of him, but since they have been married, he has proved to be quite the best man I have known since Bingley and your dear Darcy, of course. He has so remarkably changed their lives, there is not even the faintest shadow left of her former unhappiness.”
As Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner nodded agreement, Jane continued, “You were so fortunate with Cassy and Richard.”
Elizabeth agreed readily. “Indeed, we were. There is not another man in the world to whom we could have entrusted her with so much confidence. There is so much joy in their home that Julian declares there should be a tax upon it!”
Their laughter reflected their own contentment, yet their aunt re
minded them that there were those for whom there was little certainty of happiness, since marriage had become something of a lottery for many young women, with or without fortune.
“Why, only last week, my brother’s wife told me of a most miserable situation in which a very respectable young woman from Staffordshire finds herself trapped in a terrible marriage with a feckless husband who will do nothing to support his family. Since he has run through her fortune, she must beg for help from her relatives to feed her children. Our daughters have been spared such privation,” she declared.
“Except for poor Lydia,” said Jane, whose soft heart would not let her forget her errant sister, whose unfortunate alliance with Mr Wickham, compounded by their subsequent stupidity, had turned them into an embarrassment and virtually cut her off from the rest of her family, except when she needed their help.
Elizabeth was more severe. “Poor Lydia’s problems are largely of her own making, Jane. She leapt into an affair with Wickham having no thought for the consequences, and their contrived marriage seems to have done nothing to improve the characters of either Lydia or her husband,” she declared.
Mrs Gardiner appeared to agree and more may have been said on the subject, but Robert’s appearance at the door curtailed the discussion. Robert had arrived to take his mother home. Mr Gardiner had been weakened by illness recently and could not stay out too late. Mrs Gardiner, ever conscious of her husband’s comfort, prepared to leave at once, but not before she thanked her niece and through her Mr Darcy for his kindness to Mr Gardiner.
“Dear Lizzie, please do not forget to thank your husband for his kindness. His concern for your uncle is deeply appreciated.”
After they had gone, Jane turned to her sister. “Lizzie, I could not ask you in the presence of Aunt Gardiner, but I do worry about our uncle,” she said, her eyes expressing her concern.
Elizabeth concurred. “He is weaker since his last illness, and our aunt is very concerned, but Richard has had the best physicians from London examine him and they can find very little wrong with him. His mind is as alert as ever, and Darcy, who spends some time with him each week, declares that he cannot see any deterioration in his faculties at all,” she said.
Jane looked grave. “Aunt Gardiner is very grateful to him. I know our uncle looks forward to Mr Darcy’s visits and appreciates them very much, indeed.”
Elizabeth knew this to be true. She recalled her aunt’s words. They had always been close, but since Mr Gardiner’s illness, they had drawn even closer, more as friends than as aunt and niece. It was a great comfort to Mrs Gardiner. Elizabeth and Darcy, who had never ceased to be grateful for the Gardiners’ part in their own happiness, were delighted to be able to repay some of their kindness.
Even as they talked of their friends and relations, their thoughts returned to their children, who had been married on this day. Jane’s only concern was that Louisa and Matthew Ward had insisted on continuing to rent a house in Matlock to be near the hospital instead of moving to Ashford Park. “I shall miss her very much, Lizzie, especially now that Sophie and Daniel are gone to live with Mrs Lambert in Derby.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Dear Jane, you are missing your girls,” she teased. “I am fortunate to have Cassy living at such an easy distance from Pemberley.”
“Will Julian and Josie return to live at Pemberley?” asked Jane and was immediately sorry she had done so when Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head.
“No, at least not for a while, I do not think. Julian must return to Cambridge to complete his research. He has been offered a place on the team of a Professor, a preeminent scientist and a man of huge reputation. He cannot afford to miss the opportunity. As for Josie, you know how determined she is to get some of her work published in London. We are not entirely sure that her work is mature enough, and, of course, she has the added disadvantage of being a woman,” Elizabeth explained.
Jane was outraged. “A woman writer is disadvantaged? You cannot mean that, Lizzie.”
“Indeed, I do. Had she been a man, or used a man’s name as a nom de plume, her chances of success would have been greatly enhanced, just as it was with the Brontë women, who all used male pen names at first.”
Jane was aghast at the unfairness of it and said so. “I cannot believe it. And will they live in London?” she asked.
“Oh, no, neither of them like London much,” Elizabeth replied. “They will take a house in Cambridge, within reach of the College. I have agreed to go down and help them with furniture and window draperies and other details. Meanwhile, they will stay at Portman Square. But it will not be for long; they are determined to be independent and find their own place.”
Jane shook her head. This was very different than Jonathan, who had gladly accepted all his father could do for him, using the house in Grosvenor Street until they had finally decided to settle in Kent. “At Rosings, of course, where they spend most of their time, they have to maintain an appropriate standard. Lady Catherine has insisted upon it,” Jane said.
“She would!” scoffed Elizabeth, and memories were revived of encounters with the formidable but frequently ridiculous Lady Catherine de Bourgh, provoking much mirth.
Elizabeth was about to ring for a fresh pot of tea, when, without warning, Jane’s expression changed and she said, “Lizzie, I do wish I could be as certain of Jonathan’s happiness as I am of the girls’.”
When Elizabeth looked up at her, startled and confused, for she had no inkling that Jonathan was anything but happy with his Amelia-Jane, Jane explained that she had had reservations about the move to Rosings Park.
“Indeed, I have been concerned ever since they moved to Kent. I believe, Lizzie, that Amelia-Jane is still very impressionable and easily influenced by all the grandeur and status of Lady Catherine and her minions. I fear she places more value upon them than on her husband’s position and work. Bingley was not surprised when Jonathan decided to retain his position in the party after leaving the Parliament; he could well be bored at Rosings when he is not busy with business affairs. Neither Amelia nor her sister are interested in Parliamentary matters.”
Elizabeth had listened with concern. “Has he said anything to you?” she asked.
Jane shook her head. “Oh, no, he has not. I doubt that he would, he is too loyal to her,” she said and added quickly, “I do not mean that he no longer loves her or that they are miserable together, Lizzie, but I wish I could see the kind of marriage that Cassy and Richard have or the felicity that Emma and James have found together. Regrettably, while they are always dutifully considerate of each other, I feel there is little warmth between them, except when they are both with the children.”
Elizabeth was saddened but not entirely surprised. Amelia-Jane had always seemed to her to be the least interesting of the Collins girls, with neither the talent of Rebecca nor the strength and common sense of Cathy. She was certainly very pretty and, having married very young, appeared to have lost interest in all but the most superficial aspects of her husband’s work. There was none of the intelligence and excitement that characterised the partnership of Caroline and Fitzwilliam. Indeed, Fitzwilliam himself had remarked that it was a great pity that young Jonathan Bingley had decided to leave Parliament, and Fitzwilliam had blamed it upon the fact that his wife was bored by his work.
“She does not value the work he does, and her conversation seems limited to her servants and her children, in that order!” he had said.
Jane did point out that Jonathan’s wife was indeed an excellent mother, devoted to her children, but Elizabeth was not deceived. She could see her sister was unhappy, but there was very little anyone could do. Elizabeth was desperately sad for her nephew.
There were footsteps in the corridor, and Cassandra appeared at the door. She was warmly welcomed by her mother and aunt, who had promptly changed the topic of their conversation.
As she sat down, Jane noticed an anxio
us little frown and asked, “Cassy, my dear, are you not feeling well?”
Cassandra protested that she was very well, perhaps a little tired at the end of a long day, arousing immediate suspicions in the minds of Elizabeth and Jane. These were confirmed when Cassy asked, “Mama, would you mind very much if we did not stay to dinner? I think I should like to go home.”
Elizabeth was concerned. “Why Cassy, my dear, what is wrong? Of course you need not stay if you are unwell, but tell me, what is worrying you?” she said.
Mother and daughter were very close, and Cassy could not keep her secret long, revealing that she was expecting their fifth child in the Autumn. After much delighted hugging and kissing and a great deal of good advice, her mother and aunt finally released her to return to her husband, but not before they had begged her to take great care of herself.
“I am so glad Richard is such a good doctor; it relieves me of the need to worry about you. I can simply enjoy the anticipation, knowing he takes such good care of you,” Elizabeth said.
Cassandra laughed. “I assure you, Mama, he is sufficiently anxious for all of us. I am under so many instructions that I cannot possibly remember them all.”
Cassandra was a favourite with everyone. Her devotion to her own family had never precluded her involvement in community work, and she and her husband, whose skill and integrity had earned him a great reputation in the district, were constantly available to those who needed their help. Elizabeth had always regarded her daughter as the ideal, modern young woman—accomplished, intelligent, and devoted to her heritage and her family more so than herself.
Modestly, she admitted to Jane that Cassy would have made an excellent Mistress of Pemberley. “Better by far than myself; she knows so much about the estate,” she said.
“You cannot mean that Lizzie,” Jane protested, but Elizabeth was quite adamant. “Dear Jane, do not misunderstand me, I love Pemberley; it is our home and I would never leave it. But Cassy was born here and knows every nook and cranny of the place. She used to ride everywhere with Darcy and his steward when she was a little girl, and after William’s death, she made it her business to learn everything she needed to know while Julian was still a baby. As Julian grew older, she taught him all she knew. She remains interested not only in the estate, but in all of the people who live and work here. She knows most of them by name—a task that would certainly defeat me.
The Women of Pemberley Page 34
