By the Same Author
The Pemberley Chronicles
The Women of Pemberley
Netherfield Park Revisited
The Ladies of Longbourn
Mr Darcy's Daughter
My Cousin Caroline
Recollections of Rosings
A Woman of Influence
The Legacy of Pemberley
Copyright © 2009 by Rebecca Ann Collins
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Originally printed and bound in Australia by SNAP Printing, Sydney, NSW, October 2002. Reprinted November 2004.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Collins, Rebecca Ann.
Postscript from Pemberley : the acclaimed Pride and prejudice sequel series / devised and compiled by Rebecca Ann Collins.
p. cm. -- (The Pemberley chronicles ; bk. 7)
Originally published: Sydney : SNAP Printing, 2002.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Bennet, Elizabeth (Fictitious character)--Fiction. 2. Darcy, Fitzwilliam (Fictitious character)--Fiction. 3. England--Social life and customs--19th century--Fiction. I. Austen, Jane, 1775-1817. Pride and prejudice. II. Title.
PR9619.4.C65P67 2009
823'.92--dc22
2009038825
Printed and bound in the United States of America
VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents
Dedication
Author's Note
Prologue
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Part Two
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Part Three
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Part Four
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Part Five
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
An Epilogue
Appendix
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To
Anthony & Rose,
without whom I could not have come this far
IT IS NOT ALWAYS necessary to introduce readers to the characters or circumstances of a story; indeed, it seems to be the modern practice to leave them guessing or, better still, confused, about the author's intentions.
However, many readers of the Pemberley Chronicles series have written to ask if I intend to leave Julian Darcy out in the cold, as it were, following his failed marriage and the subsequent death of his wife, Josie.
Put like that, it sounded callous and though he was never a favourite of mine, it did seem hard-hearted not to give him another chance.
In Postscript from Pemberley, he has that chance.
Darcy Gardiner was quite another matter.
I will admit I did agonise about him for a while. What to do with a handsome and amiable young man, without a large fortune and not much chance of a substantial inheritance? He does have a will to work for the betterment of ordinary people and a deep sense of family loyalty.
So, should I make him a politician? Some might say, God forbid.
A preacher addicted to high moral sententiousness and a desire to convert everyone to his personal view of the world? Never.
A playboy who marries some rich mill owner's daughter? Over my dead body!
Darcy Gardiner is one of my favourites—cast in the mould of some of Jane Austen's most admired young men, with many of the qualities that distinguished his grandfather, and more to say for himself than Mr Darcy had at his age, besides. He was the chief raison d'etre for Postscript from Pemberley, and like the best characters any writer creates, he virtually wrote his own story.
I hope my readers will enjoy reading it as much as I loved the telling of it.
RAC / 2002
Website: www.geocities.com/shadesofpemberley
For the benefit of those readers who wish to be reminded of the characters and their relationships to one another, an aide-memoire is provided in the appendix.
JESSICA COURTNEY COULD RECALL very clearly the moment that had changed her life. It had come upon her quite without warning and had caused her to regard very differently the course that her life might take in the following years.
While it did not bring either immediate or unalloyed happiness, Jessica realised that it could have been much worse, and she could have been drawn into a period of self-indulgent depression and complaint about the vicissitudes of life. But, despite her youth, for she was only eighteen years old, being possessed of both sense and sensibility, Jessica determined not to allow herself that dubious luxury.
It was all very well for heroines in popular novels to spend hours, days, months even, surrendering themselves to the melancholy contemplation of what might have been, she thought—they did not have a school to run.
The previous year, 1865, had not been an easy one for any of them, more particularly for members of the family of Mr and Mrs Darcy at Pemberley. Since the beginning of the year, news of the problems, which beset the marriage of their son Julian Darcy and his wife, Josie, had been filtering through to them in letters and whispered conversations. Not everyone was agreed upon who was to blame in the matter, but almost everyone had claimed to know something was amiss.
Jessica's mother, Mrs Emily Courtney, was too deeply involved in her commitments to the hospital at Littleford and her charitable work for the poor of the parish of Kympton to participate in such gossip, but whenever her aunt Caroline Fitzwilliam or their young cousin Lizzie Gardiner visited, they would share their news with her. They had no doubt at all that Julian and Josie were not happy.
Jessica had not wished to ask too many questions, lest they thought she was prying. Which was why she had been wholly unprepared for the dramatic news when it came, late one afternoon, that Julian Darcy had arrived from Cambridge at the home of his sister Cassy and Doctor Richard Gardiner, bringing with him his son Anthony and young Lizzie Gardiner, who had been staying with them in Cambridge at the time.
As her aunt Caroline told it, it seemed his wife, Josie, had left their home and had gone to live with a Mr Barrett, who had supposedly promised to publish her book! Incredible as it seemed, that was what Caroline had learned from her brother Richard Gardiner.
“It must be true, Dr Gardiner would not repeat such a story if it were not,” thought Jessica. So appalled was she, that she had spent the rest of the evening in a state of shock, unable to speak of the disastrous news to anyone, while the rest of family had
expressed consternation and grief.
On the following day, Jessica had gone into the village and met young Lizzie Gardiner at Mrs Hardy's bookshop, whither they had both gone in search of copies of a new novel by Mr Dickens. After making their purchases, they had repaired to a tea shop, where, as they took tea and sampled the shortbread, Lizzie was more forthcoming than Caroline had been.
Her aunt Caroline had been quite critical of Josie, especially of her decision to desert her little boy.
“It is beyond belief that a woman would leave a kind husband and her young child in this way,” she had said, but Lizzie, with the advantage of having spent most of Spring in Cambridge with Julian and Josie, seemed to have more understanding of the reasons for her conduct. She knew more also about Mr Barrett, who had been a frequent visitor to the couple's home.
“I do not believe that Josie has done this lightly and only because of wanting to have her book published,” she had said, adding, “I could not help feeling that Josie had been lonely and rather neglected by my uncle Julian, whose concentration upon his research work, almost to the exclusion of every other interest, may have left her open to deception by Mr Barrett and his friend Mr Jones, who are both guilty of great duplicity.”
Jessica found it easier to ask her cousin the questions that had occupied her mind for some hours.
“And Julian, do you believe he still loves her, Lizzie? Will he have her back, do you think?” she asked.
Lizzie's answer had been unambiguous. “I am certain of it—he never looks at anyone else. He does love her, but is so completely wedded to his work, he has little time to tell her so or to pay any attention to her interests. Poor Josie, she cares little about the strange microscopic creatures he examines in his laboratory and I am convinced she felt she was no longer loved, when the opposite is probably true.”
Though Lizzie's explanation would have been more painful for Mr and Mrs Darcy to bear, it made more sense than the notion that Josie, who only a year ago had appeared to be a loving wife and mother, could have been so altered in character as to behave in such an outrageous fashion. Lizzie had also revealed that Josie had left a note for her husband, in which she had declared that she did not love Mr Barrett, but needed the freedom he had offered her from her unhappy marriage.
Jessica had expressed disbelief at this, but this time Lizzie had been sympathetic to her uncle. “I have never seen anyone so distraught as my uncle Julian, when he read it. It was as though he had been struck dumb. He did not say a word against her—it was so sad to see him accept it, as though he believed he deserved it,” Lizzie had said as they walked home, leaving Jessica wondering at the reasons behind it all.
Writing in her diary, to which alone she confided her innermost thoughts, she mused:
Poor Josie, what could she have wanted? How much unhappiness must she have suffered to leave her husband and son for a man she did not love? I cannot even begin to comprehend her mind.
As for Julian, how wretched must he feel to accept without protest such a situation, and yet he still loves her and would have her back! Love seems such a complicated emotion; I wonder if I shall ever understand it.
The shock and pain this unfortunate episode had inflicted upon Mr and Mrs Darcy, Jessica had seen firsthand. She had gone to Pemberley, to the church where she had promised to help the rector with the choir, and there she had met Mrs Darcy coming away from the rectory, a veil concealing her tear-stained face.
They had embraced without saying a word, but Jessica's warmth and sympathy had drawn Elizabeth out, and she had told her as much as she had learned from her son.
Elizabeth did not conceal her anger at Josie's behaviour, and Jessica took care not to mention what she had heard from Lizzie Gardiner. It would not do to admit that they had been discussing her son's circumstances.
Later, Mrs Darcy had insisted that Jessica should accompany her home to Pemberley and stay to tea. Making her excuses to an understanding rector, Jessica had done as Elizabeth had asked, not knowing then that they were to be joined by Julian, who was staying at Pemberley for a few days.
He was late coming downstairs, and when he arrived, Jessica, who had seated herself at the far end of the room to get the benefit of the afternoon light, had wished sincerely that he would not notice her. She had hoped that he, being understandably pre-occupied, would pay little attention to her as she sat reading by the window.
But, despite her intention to draw no attention to herself at all, he had seen her. When he had finished his tea, he had put down his cup, walked over to where she sat, and drawing up a chair, had seated himself beside her.
Jessica had known Julian Darcy all her life, they had been childhood friends, but now, she feared there would be some degree of awkwardness between them; it was the first time they had met since his arrival from Cambridge.
When they had finished their customary greetings and said all the usual things people say on such occasions, they had sat looking at one another and neither had said a word, until Jessica asked gently, “What will you do, Julian?”
He had shrugged his shoulders and smiled, a funny, crooked little smile, before saying softly, “Why, Jessica, you are the only person who has asked me that question. I am touched by your concern. However, if I am to be completely honest, I have to say I do not rightly know how to answer you.”
Jessica had hastened to reassure him that she had not meant to pry and he should not feel he had to provide an answer. But then, in a voice heavy with resignation, he had said, “Well, I must return to Cambridge and complete my work there, but then, perhaps I shall go to France. I have an appointment with one of the medical schools in Paris.”
“Do you intend to work there?'” she had asked, and he had replied, “I do, if they will let me continue my research into tropical diseases. I had intended to travel to Africa later in the year, but now, I may go a little earlier than planned.”
“To Africa?” she had been unable to conceal her surprise.
“Yes, there is a great deal of work to be done and much to be studied there. A group of French scientists has invited me to join them—perhaps they will be pleased to see me earlier than expected,” he had said, and as a rather mirthless smile crossed his countenance, Jessica thought she had not seen such anguish upon anyone's face before.
Lizzie Gardiner had been right; Julian Darcy was truly miserable, of that there could be no doubt. He must have loved Josie very much, she thought.
Some days later, Julian had left Pemberley to return to Cambridge.
No more was heard of Josie for several months, and Julian subsequently went to work in France. Jessica, though concerned to know how matters stood, preferred not to speak too openly about the subject, lest she upset Elizabeth, whose heightened anxiety seemed to increase by the day.
Later in the year, news had come that Josie had been found. Lizzie Gardiner had brought the news which gave everyone hope.
Unhappy and unwell, Josie had left Mr Barrett, whose promise to publish her book had evaporated as swiftly as his professed affection for her, over the months she had been with him. Her faithful maid Susan had stayed with her and brought word of her desperate situation to Cassy and Richard Gardiner, who had gone to London immediately to recover her. They had sent word to Julian, who had returned from France to be with his wife. While Josie was diagnosed as being very sick indeed, her husband would not give up hope.
“Julian is so generous, he has forgiven Josie everything and wants only for her to be well again,” Lizzie had said, and Jessica, like the rest of the family, had hoped and prayed it may all come right.
Meanwhile, Jessica's own circumstances had begun to change.
Mr Darcy, now dependent mainly upon his daughter Cassandra and her husband Richard for advice on matters pertaining to his estate, had announced the extension of the small parish school at Pemberley to accommodate older pupils from the area.
“Hitherto, these children have had no education beyond a level so elementary, it fits
them for little more than menial work,” he had said. “Sir Thomas Camden and I have decided to extend the buildings and facilities of the parish school at Pemberley to provide an opportunity for them to be better taught.
“Furthermore, I have asked Miss Jessica Courtney to manage the school for me and hire two new teachers for the new term. I am delighted to say that she has very generously consented to accept the position and will soon move to live here at Pemberley, so as to be near the school. It goes without saying that her parents, Reverend James Courtney and our dear cousin Emily, have agreed to this arrangement as well.”
Jessica had been overjoyed. It had seemed as if at last, with the New Year approaching, some changes were taking place, bringing hope back into their lives.
But, shortly afterwards, things had got much worse again, when even as they awoke to a new year, news came from London that Josie, who had never been very strong, had suffered a relapse and passed away in the night.
On a bitter January afternoon, the family had gathered for her funeral at Pemberley and Jessica could not help noticing the coldness that had appeared to exist between Mrs Darcy and Josie's mother, Mrs Rebecca Tate. Clearly, Elizabeth still blamed Josie for all that had happened.
Not long afterwards, Julian Darcy had announced his intention to renounce his inheritance in favour of his son, Anthony, and quit his position at Cambridge. Despite his disappointment, Mr Darcy seemed able to accept his son's decision with a level of stoicism and resignation. Elizabeth, however, had continued to suffer and not always in silence, while it had seemed to Jessica that Julian still wore a heavy cloak of misery.
She had chanced upon him once in the library at Pemberley, a book open in front of him, his eyes staring out of the window at the far horizon.
It had been plain to her that he was deeply distressed.
When she had apologised for disturbing him and tried to leave, he had assured her she was not and urged her to stay.
Postscript from Pemberley Page 1
