Pemberley Chronicles

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  Darcy permitted himself a satisfied smile, as Mr Bennet joined in to praise his judgement. “There can be no doubt, if as you say, Bingley wishes to purchase a place, this property would be an excellent choice,” he said.

  They spent an hour or so looking out of windows, admiring the aspect—North towards the wooded ridge, or sloping away to the meadows, and a fast tumbling stream to the East. A useful little dairy and a hothouse for nurturing fruit and green vegetables in the cold seasons both added to the desirability of the property. Finally, Lizzie had to be dragged away from the spacious kitchen and pantry that looked out on a perfect kitchen garden, so they could make good time on their journey to London.

  As they journeyed, Elizabeth’s enthusiasm continued unabated, until teasing her Darcy said, “I shall soon begin to worry that you like Ashford House better than Pemberley, Elizabeth,” which brought such a strong denial, he had to retract his words immediately.

  In London, they went directly to Darcy’s town house in Portman Square and, having rested and partaken of tea, went later in the evening to Gracechurch Street, to dine with the Gardiners.

  Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had barely sufficient time to eat, so busy were they giving and receiving the news. First, there was Kitty’s engagement to Mr Jenkins, whom the Gardiners had met, but of whom, except for his remarkable voice, they recalled little. Mrs Gardiner wanted to know more, and Elizabeth amused everyone with the statement that they would not know Kitty when they met her, so changed was she from the naïve, rather silly young person she had been before. “I do not wish to be thought complacent, Aunt, but if we succeed in keeping Kitty to ourselves and by that I mean away from Newcastle, where the greatest peril lies, I am convinced we shall have gained a remarkably pleasing young sister, with much promise for the future,” said Elizabeth, looking across to her husband for support.

  Mrs Gardiner looked at him and smiled. “Is this right, Mr Darcy? Or is Lizzie teasing me with this tale of Kitty’s miraculous transformation?” she asked. Darcy, not usually keen to venture opinions on his in-laws, was, on this occasion, completely supportive of his wife.

  “No indeed, Mrs Gardiner, Lizzie is quite right.We have been very proud of the way Kitty has worked with my sister Georgiana to improve her performance on the piano, and of course, everyone has admired the generous work she has done with the Children’s Choir,” he said, and both Mr Bennet and Elizabeth smiled with pleasure at his words.

  For Elizabeth, who was painfully aware of the low opinion Mr Darcy had held of the impropriety and foolish behaviour of her younger sisters, this was a special moment, and she loved him all the more for saying it to her family, in her presence. As for Mr Jenkins, Darcy assured them that Dr Grantley, who had known him at St John’s in Oxford, had vouched for him when he first applied for the living at Pemberley, and since then, Darcy had found no reason to doubt that he was anything but a fine and sincere young man and very devoted to Kitty.

  Mr Bennet, at this point, volunteered that he was of the same opinion. “I shall be eternally grateful to Elizabeth and Mr Darcy for affording Kitty an opportunity to extend and improve her circle of friends and her mind at the same time; a consequence that has not always been apparent in Kitty’s case,” he said.

  “And when do they plan to marry?” asked Mrs Gardiner, unable to resist the inevitable question.

  “Probably after Christmas,” said Lizzie, explaining that Mr Darcy had plans to renovate the Rectory, drawing more praise for her husband from the Gardiners, who already had the highest opinion of him. Then there was the excitement of Ashford House, which Elizabeth was absolutely certain would suit Bingley and Jane to perfection. She was so excited that Mr Gardiner teased her about liking it better than Pemberley and for the second time in a day, Elizabeth was compelled to deny this, amidst a great deal of teasing.

  This time, it was her father who came to her rescue, “The reason for Lizzie’s excitement is quite plain to me,” he said. “She knows her sister will depend totally upon her opinion and with Bingley so confident that Mr Darcy is the best judge of such things, they cannot go wrong. I will wager London to a brick that Lizzie will have her sister ensconced at Ashford House, not twenty miles from Pemberley, before Christmas.”

  It was scarcely four months since the sisters had been together at Pemberley, yet Elizabeth and Jane were both tearful and ecstatic at their reunion. At Darcy’s suggestion, they had driven directly to Netherfield Park, having left London very early that morning, arriving around midday.

  The warmth of summer had more impact in Hertfordshire, and together with a naturally healthy glow, it had given Jane a lustre that Elizabeth noticed immediately. “Dear Jane, you look beautiful!” she cried, contrasting her own still pale complexion with her sister’s radiant health. Jane blushed at the compliment, but everyone agreed that she looked remarkably well. Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes. Jane’s beauty was of a very special kind. The serenity her marriage had given her greatly enhanced it.

  There was so much to talk about that the sisters had to go away upstairs. They repaired to the same spacious bedroom that they had shared some years ago, when having been caught in the rain as a consequence of one of her mother’s foolish plans, Jane had been very ill and had to stay at Netherfield, with Lizzie arriving to nurse her through her fever. The room brought back so many memories, that they were both overwhelmed by the thought of all that had happened since they were last there together. When they could finally speak rationally, Jane asked, “Tell me, Lizzie, what news have you of Kitty? I cannot believe she is already engaged to Mr Jenkins.”

  Elizabeth told her what had happened, and she was at first scarcely able to believe it, but then as she heard it all, including Mr Darcy’s kindness and generosity to the young couple, she wept with happiness and embraced Elizabeth. “Oh Lizzie, how happy I am that you were spared the agony of a marriage with Wickham and waited for Mr Darcy. How grateful I am that we are both blessed with good and generous husbands. Poor Charlotte is at Lucas Lodge; she is soon to have her baby, and yet I feel for her, because it seems she would rather be away from Mr Collins. I could not bear to be separated from Bingley at this time, and I cannot help thinking that it must be so hard to be alone.”

  “Not if one has a fool for a husband,” said Elizabeth, sharply, still angry that her dear friend Charlotte had, by marrying the stupid Mr Collins, so compromised her chances of a dignified and happy marriage. “We must call on Charlotte tomorrow. I shall send a message when Father returns to Longbourn, that we will visit later in the day.” The time sped by as they talked and made their plans, while downstairs lunch was served, and Bingley, who had been hearing of the solid advantages as well as the delights of Ashford House from both Darcy and his father-in-law, came upstairs himself to persuade the ladies to join them.

  The following day, Mary—who had been at Netherfield since Christmas—and her father left for Longbourn soon after breakfast. Mr Bennet had enjoyed his sojourn up North but nevertheless looked forward to his own fireside and library, even more so because his wife was still at the side of her daughter Lydia in Newcastle. The prospect of perfect silence and peace at Longbourn attracted him greatly.

  Elizabeth sent a note to Charlotte, which John was to deliver immediately and then the ladies would drive over for afternoon tea. Charlotte had not seen her dear friend Elizabeth in nine months. She was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing her and Jane that afternoon. No sooner had they alighted from the carriage than she was out to greet them, admiring them both and wanting to know how Elizabeth was. They embraced and greeted each other warmly. “Dear Eliza, you look remarkably well, and what a fine gown this is—doesn’t she look quite the lady of fashion, Maria?” Charlotte began, and young Maria Lucas, who had last seen Lizzie at her wedding, seemed completely in awe of her now. Her eyes widened as she nodded and agreed with her elder sister. But she was much more interested to hear about Kitty, disappointed that her friend was not with them. The news that Kitty was about to be
engaged and was likely to be married at Christmas astonished them both.

  “Kitty engaged!” said Maria. “She vowed she would never wed, after Lydia . . . ,” her voice trailed away, in some embarrassment at having brought up the forbidden topic of Lydia’s escapade with Wickham. But Elizabeth was no longer troubled by it, and while Jane reddened a little, she laughed and brushed it aside, saying, “Well, it seems she has changed her mind; having been away from the foolish influence of Lydia for nigh on a year, Kitty, believe me, is a changed and mature young person. I assure you Maria, she is quite transformed and we are all very proud of her.” Charlotte was herself amazed at Elizabeth’s news, but unlike her younger sister, Charlotte’s own quiet wisdom enabled her to understand how the excellent marriages of Elizabeth and Jane and the social opportunities afforded them had advantaged Kitty, too.

  When they had finally satisfied all of Maria’s curiosity about Kitty and Mr Jenkins, Elizabeth and Jane were ushered by Charlotte into the parlour, and there they were served a splendid tea. Lady Lucas had not been very well, said Charlotte, apologising for her mother’s absence, and Sir William was expected later; he’d been out shooting on a neighbouring manor.

  Meanwhile, Charlotte asked to be told all the news. “Eliza, we heard from Lady Catherine, shortly before I left Hunsford, that you and Mr Darcy had not only displeased her by your own union, but were now responsible for thwarting her plans for her other nephew—James Fitzwilliam—Darcy’s cousin. Is this true?” Even Charlotte could not keep a straight face, and she lost control altogether when told of the abortive plans of Lady Catherine to contrive a match between her nephew James and Caroline Bingley.

  “Miss Bingley?” Charlotte could not believe her ears, “Oh Eliza, we met her and her sister Mrs Hurst. I do beg your pardon Jane, but I gather you are not entirely without criticism of your sister-in-law,” and as Jane nodded and smiled to indicate she had no inhibitions on that score, Charlotte continued, “As I was saying, she was at Rosings last Christmas, and, oh dear, she was impossible to please. There was always something amiss, though she did not dare say so to Lady Catherine. But Eliza, I cannot honestly say that I see her as the Lady of the Manor.” Both sisters agreed that they could not imagine it either, pointing out that they had met James Fitzwilliam and his bride to be—Rosamund Camden—and did not believe that a better marriage might have been made by Lady Catherine.

  “Should the opportunity arise, Charlotte, you may wish to set her Ladyship’s mind at rest. Mr Darcy and I had nothing whatever to do with the match; the couple were already engaged before we met them at Christmas,” said Elizabeth, with a twinkle in her eye. “It may not change her opinion of me, but she may at least understand that yet another of her nephews is sufficiently adult to make his own marriage arrangements, without interference from her.”

  From the tone of her comment, Charlotte gathered that there had been some earlier attempt by Lady Catherine to intervene where she had no right to do so and was determined to hear the tale. Elizabeth, who was an excellent mimic, regaled them with such a vivid description of the visit of Lady Catherine to Longbourn and her strenuous efforts to intimidate Elizabeth into promising never to accept Mr Darcy, that she had all of them in gales of laughter.

  Charlotte, whose admiration for her friend increased as she listened, confessed she had not laughed so much in months, “I wonder how I shall keep a straight face when I am next at Rosings,” she said, as Lizzie went on to explain that far from achieving her goal of preventing her nephew’s engagement to her, his aunt had actually advanced it. In this and other agreeable conversations the afternoon passed, and as the sisters were preparing to leave, Sir William Lucas arrived. His delight at seeing them there enhanced the pleasure he had of having spent a very good day with his friends, bringing home a good bag of game. Upon discovering how long Elizabeth and Darcy were to be at Netherfield, Sir William announced his intention to have a dinner party in their honour at Lucas Lodge and extracted a promise that they would all be there.

  On the way home, Jane, who had been rather quiet all afternoon, spoke softly, “Do you see what I mean about Charlotte, Lizzie?” Elizabeth nodded gravely and reached for her sister’s hand, “You were right, dearest Jane. Charlotte’s happiness is solely in looking forward to the birth of her child. She did not once mention Mr Collins, odious man! Oh Jane, I feel guilty that you and I can be so happy, so blessed in our dear husbands, and Charlotte, who has no less a right to the same happiness and good fortune, needs must put up with such a poor substitute for a happy marriage.”

  “It is clear that she is happy to be back at Lucas Lodge.”

  “No doubt she is relieved to get away from the strictures of Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” said Elizabeth, remembering Charlotte’s long suffering forbearance at Rosings, when Lady Catherine probed and queried their every action, while the obsequious Mr Collins only encouraged her rude intervention. Jane agreed, “I cannot believe that it would have been very comfortable for Charlotte, to be under such scrutiny, when she was first married and went to live at Hunsford.”

  “And to prepare to face Lady Catherine whenever she deigns to honour them with a visit? I cannot imagine anything worse!” said Elizabeth with spirit and sincerity, “She is such a rude, meddling old woman. Oh Jane, it must have been intolerable!”

  Jane’s countenance revealed her distaste at the prospect. “I must say that when Mr Bingley and I were married and went to London, I was pleased to find that we had the house at Grosvenor Street all to ourselves, except for the servants, of course.” Elizabeth concurred, recalling that she and Mr Darcy had greatly appreciated the time they had spent together after their wedding, travelling through several counties and staying where they chose, free of the scrutiny of friends or family.

  There was still plenty of light in the sky as the carriage turned into the drive at Netherfield Park. As they reached the house, they could see Bingley and Darcy on the lawn. “I wonder what has happened,” said Jane, realising that it was unusual for the gentlemen to be out at that hour.

  As they alighted, Mr Bingley came up to Jane and, taking her arm, led her indoors. Mr Darcy did likewise, whispering as they went that there had been an express communication come for Jane from Newcastle. Lizzie hurried into the main parlour, where Jane was seated and Bingley had just opened up the express letter. That it was news of their sister, whose confinement was imminent, she was sure. As Jane took the letter from Bingley, Lizzie sank down beside her. It was in Wickham’s hand and announced the birth of their son—Henry George. The brief message said both the child and Lydia were well and a letter would follow. There followed a request that Mr Bennet and Elizabeth be informed of the news and concluded with the usual felicitations. It was signed George Wickham.

  Jane’s tears expressed her relief that Lydia and the child were both safe and well. She seemed delighted that her parents were blessed with a grandson and hastened to send a servant with the message for her father. Elizabeth, on the other hand, could not feel the same unalloyed pleasure, remembering all that had gone before with Wickham and Lydia and her own unthinking acceptance of Wickham until his duplicity was exposed. The hurt it had caused to Darcy, whose character had been so unfairly impugned, she would never forget nor forgive. It seared her soul to think that her first nephew, her father’s first grandchild would be Wickham’s son. Conscious of all that Darcy had been through because of the stupidity of her sister and the dishonourable behaviour of Wickham, she was unable to rejoice simply, as Jane had done.

  Sensing her unease, Darcy tried to reassure her that he had long ceased to care about Wickham and she must not let what had happened in the past upset her again and again, each time he touched their lives.

  “We are far too happy to be distressed by those memories, my dearest Lizzie. There is no reason why Jane and you should not be happy on this occasion.” Grateful for his generous spirit and the assurance of his affection, she brightened up considerably and went in search of Jane.

  S
he found her upstairs, composing a letter to Lydia, congratulating her and urging her to take good care of herself and her baby. It was as simple and sincere as Jane’s responses usually were. As her sister appeared, she stopped, “Do you wish to write something too, Lizzie?” she asked. But Elizabeth could not.

  “No, Jane, it is best you write for us all. Send her our love and good wishes, and let us hope she will be less foolish in future—now she is a mother.”

  Jane was shocked by the harshness of her sister’s voice. “Oh no, Lizzie, you must not say that. I’m sure Lydia will settle down.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Do not depend upon it, dearest Jane; do not forget that Lydia is not yet eighteen and still as vain and silly as ever. Unless by some miracle, her feckless husband is transformed into a mature and responsible person, I cannot see our sister settling into sensible motherhood.”

  Seeing the shocked and troubled look on Jane’s face, she relented, “Oh dear Jane, don’t look so upset. I may be wrong; I hope I am; I hope they turn into exemplary parents with perfect children.”

  “Oh Lizzie, please do be serious, do you really think Lydia is unchanged?” asked Jane, almost pleading for some hope.

  “I do not know Jane, how could I? I have not seen her in more than a year. She may have redeemed herself. But, I am not very confident.” Looking a little less certain, Jane folded and sealed her letter, and they took it downstairs to send off to the post before joining the gentlemen for dinner.

  Despite the best intentions of Sir William, the dinner party at Lucas Lodge did not eventuate. At first, it was postponed because of Lady Lucas’ continuing ill health, but in the following week, Charlotte herself was brought to bed without warning.

  Elizabeth and Jane were visiting her one warm afternoon, and while they were having tea, Charlotte was taken ill with severe pains. Fortunately, Dr Faulkner had called to see Lady Lucas and stayed on to have tea and continue his courtship of Maria, with whom he was walking in the garden at the time. Elizabeth ran into the garden and called out to them. Dr Faulkner proved to be most capable, calmly organising everything, giving clear instructions, and swiftly moving to make Charlotte as comfortable as possible.