Postscript from Pemberley

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  “Oh Papa, you are too good—indeed you are. If my Uncle Robert's wife could ensure that her interest and that of her husband and family could be satisfactorily served by staying on in Paris, I think we might never have seen her spend a day longer than was necessary in Derbyshire. That she has arrived complete with her servants and, I understand, sufficient luggage to last until Christmas if need be, must signify her determination. What do you make of it, Mama?” she asked.

  Her mother hastened to say that her husband's Christian charity would probably preclude his seeing anything but the noblest of motives in the actions of her sister-in-law.

  “Thank you, my dear,” said James Courtney, rising from the table. “No doubt Jessie and you will together find sufficient evidence to contradict my thesis. When you do, I shall be happy to hear it.”

  They were about to launch into a further examination of the motives of the lady concerned, when a loud knocking on the door heralded an early caller. Expecting it to be a parishioner seeking her father's help and unwilling to be found in her nightgown and robe, Jessica retreated upstairs as the maid answered the door and admitted Darcy Gardiner.

  She was on the stairs when she heard his voice, as he handed his coat to the servant and greeted her parents. They invited him to join them and partake of tea, which he accepted with alacrity. It had been a damp ride over from Pemberley, he said, and tea would be most welcome.

  Not waiting to hear any more of the conversation, she shut the door of her bedroom and hastened to complete her toilette. Jessica wondered what could have brought him to the rectory at this early hour. Surely, she thought, with some anxiety, it cannot have been to do with Mrs Gardiner? Could it be she had been taken ill again?

  This thought alone drove her to rush through the rest of her preparations, and having put on her gown, she decided not to spend more time on arranging her hair. Braiding it quickly and tying it with a ribbon, she went downstairs, just as the maid came up to say that Mr Darcy Gardiner was about to leave and her mother asked if she would come downstairs.

  Darcy Gardiner was standing in the hall; it appeared he was ready to depart but had delayed leaving, hoping to see her before he went.

  As she approached, he came towards her. “Jessica, I leave for Derby in an hour and expect to take the train to London and thence to Westminster. I received the news from Colin Elliott by electric telegraph last night; there appears to be much unrest in London over Mr Disraeli's proposed Reform Bill; meetings are being held everywhere, and there may well be an election. If the Bill is defeated in the Parliament, I hope to work with Elliott and his group to ensure a victory for Mr Gladstone and the Reformists,” he said, and she could hear the excitement in his voice.

  She knew how much this meant to him and expressed her pleasure without reservation. “Darcy, that is excellent news. It must make you very happy and no doubt you are looking forward to it. Let me wish you and Mr Gladstone the very best of luck. Do you mean to stay on in London for the campaign?” she asked.

  “I have no firm plans as yet—it will depend upon many things, including the date of the election. But I have promised Colin Elliott I will help all I can, and my grandfather Mr Darcy has kindly permitted me to use his townhouse while I am in London. I may have to travel to the country if need be. Mr Gladstone will surely wish to campaign in the towns like Leeds and Birmingham,” he explained, and Jessica was genuinely pleased that something had turned up to capture his attention.

  The fact that he had been remarkably quiet since their unhappy encounter in the park at Pemberley had not escaped her; yet despite her concern for him, she could summon up no more than a sisterly interest in his welfare.

  Compared to her emotions whenever she contemplated her reunion with Julian, these were jejeune feelings indeed. She grew more certain, each time they met, that she could not have decided differently.

  “You will keep us informed, will you not? We shall all await your news with interest, I am sure,” she said, holding out her hand, which he took and held for a moment before moving to the door.

  Reverend Courtney expressed an interest in receiving information about Mr Gladstone's proposals for the Irish Church, and Mrs Courtney asked to be remembered to Mr and Mrs Elliott. Darcy promised to oblige them all, and bidding them farewell, he was gone, riding into the rain, which was falling less heavily now.

  Knowing how very keenly Darcy felt the need for his hero Mr Gladstone to win the election, Jessica was particularly pleased. This had been a difficult time for both of them. Neither of her parents knew anything of Darcy Gardiner's impulsive proposal, nor the reason why their daughter had turned it down. Only Jessica knew her own heart and as she went upstairs and prepared to return to Pemberley, she reflected upon the events that had so altered her life in so short a time.

  Jessica's diary recorded her feelings:

  It is almost beyond belief that in a single season, I have gone from a state of happy indifference to all gentlemen, to an ardent attachment to one of them. Whether this turns out in the end to be a blessing or an affliction, bringing more pain than pleasure, remains to be seen. Some might believe it is better to love less passionately, for there may be less to lose; but, for the moment, I must confess, I feel that I am the happiest creature on earth.

  With Darcy Gardiner gone to Westminster and Julian still in the depths of Africa, life may have returned to a fairly predictable routine over the Summer, except for the presence of Mr and Mrs Robert Gardiner at Oakleigh. Their continuing occupation of her home presented a problem not only for Mrs Gardiner, who though discomfited made no mention of it, but for all of her other relations and friends.

  For a start, the two young boys and their governess appeared to be constantly in the way, using the morning room for their lessons or the sitting room for their games, whenever Jessica or her mother went to call.

  Her aunt Caroline was especially put out, complaining that on two separate occasions, Mrs Hunt, the children's governess, had remained in the room whilst she was visiting her mother.

  “It is quite aggravating enough to have the children—who must be the noisiest, most boisterous boys in the county—and their dog racing through the house with no consideration at all for poor Mama, but to have Mrs Hunt, who is a complete stranger to me, sitting with us while Mama and I took tea together was too much,” Caroline complained to Elizabeth.

  “On the first occasion, I assumed it was on account of the weather, which was a little damp, but yesterday, the sun was shining and the birds were singing, but alas, Mrs Hunt showed no inclination to leave us and step into the garden.”

  “Do you suppose, Aunt, that she has been asked to sit in with you?” asked Jessica, aware that relations between her aunt Caroline and Rose Gardiner were not entirely cordial.

  “Who by?"—Caroline seemed astonished—"And to what end?” she asked.

  Elizabeth, with an eager eye to a conspiracy, enquired, “Is it possible that Rose wishes to discover whether your mama has made any arrangements regarding the disposition of her estate? We do know that she was particularly peeved that Mr Gardiner did not leave Oakleigh to Robert. Lady Fitzwilliam has never ceased to complain on that score.”

  Caroline's countenance revealed her contempt for the moans and machinations of Lady Fitzwilliam and her daughter. When she spoke, she dropped her voice so that only the three of them could hear her words.

  “I know she does. Well, she is in for an unpleasant shock; sometime in the future, when dear Mama is gone, it is Emily who will inherit Oakleigh, not Robert. Then we shall see some real hostilities break out!”

  Both Elizabeth and Jessica were so shocked by her revelation, they were speechless for a few minutes, before Jessica said in a quiet voice, “Mama will inherit Oakleigh? But does she want it? She seems so content at the rectory, I cannot believe she will wish to move.”

  “Content she may be, but it is not a permanent home. One day, Jessica, your papa will retire and a new rector will be appointed to Kympton. Where wi
ll they live then?” asked her aunt.

  Elizabeth, while agreeing that this was indeed the case, was not entirely satisfied that Caroline had her facts right.

  “Are you sure, Caroline? How did you come by this information?”

  Caroline, still keeping her voice low, answered confidently, “There is no doubt at all—Mama herself spoke with Richard and me, as she must do according to the conditions of Papa's will. She wanted to ask us how we would feel if she left the property to Emily. You see, she argues that when Dr Courtney must inevitably retire from living at Kympton, they will have no home to go to. Mama had always assumed they would come to live with her. But I do believe she has been apprehensive, ever since Papa's death and all the fuss Rose and Robert made at the time, assuming that they would take over Oakleigh, not to mention Lady Fitzwilliam's complaints. With her own health failing, she fears that Emily may not be made welcome there.”

  “And did Aunt Gardiner consult Richard and you before coming to a decision?” asked Elizabeth.

  Caroline smiled, “No indeed, I thought you might have known that she consulted Mr Darcy.” And seeing Elizabeth's expression of complete amazement, she added, “It was what my father wanted her to do, and she was happy to comply. She informed Richard and myself and asked if we would be unhappy with her decision—we were not, of course,” Caroline declared, adding, “I had spent years worrying that Robert and Rose would get a hold of the place and sell or sublet it without our consent. Neither Richard nor I wanted it for ourselves, so we were happy to agree that Emily should have it. I understand Mama has since instructed the attorney Mr Jennings to make the necessary changes to her will.”

  “And how long have you known this, Aunt Caroline?” asked Jessica, who was beginning to see some exquisite ironies in the situation.

  “Not very long—I think it was not more than a month ago that we were summoned to Oakleigh on a day when Robert and Rose were visiting her parents in Staffordshire. Mama told us of her decision, and when we agreed, she was delighted, of course—she has been concerned about Emily for some time; she knows that most of the money Papa left her has been spent on their pet charities.”

  “What?” Elizabeth could not believe her ears.

  But Caroline was quite serious. “Did you not know, Cousin Lizzie? How do you suppose the children of all those Irish families in the village are clothed and sent to school? And who do you suppose pays for the repairs on their roofs and windows?”

  “I had no idea,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head. “Does Mr Darcy know of this too?”

  Caroline was unsure. “I cannot tell; he may, and again, Mama may not have told him, anxious not to embarrass Emily and Dr Courtney. But she did tell us—Richard and me—that the rector's stipend is all they use for their own living, and Emily, who is very thrifty, manages very well and never complains or asks for money.”

  Jessica did recall that she had found her mother picking berries on the common and wondered why she was doing it.

  “Everyone knows the rectory had the best kitchen garden in the district and Mama's jams and preserves always sell out first at the church fête. But it did not occur to me that it was because they needed the money,” she said, feeling particularly guilty that she enjoyed a life of comfort and some luxury at Pemberley, whilst her parents scrimped and saved at Kympton.

  Caroline reassured her, “Don't worry, Jessica, your mama is not about to take in washing. It is not that they are so poor, but they will not spend all their income upon themselves. They have always been frugal and lead simple lives, and they use their money to help the poor and the sick, because they believe they must. My dear mother's anxiety stems from the fact that Emily and James own no property and have no savings, which means, when Dr Courtney retires or, God forbid, should he die before he retires, Emily and young Jude will be both poor and homeless.”

  “Caroline, do you mean she has used up all of her share of the money your father left her?” asked Elizabeth, quite unable to believe this.

  Caroline shook her head, “No, Lizzie, but every last penny is invested in a trust out of which the Littleford hospital and the Irish children are the main beneficiaries. All Emily holds now are her shares in Papa's company, which she cannot dispose of without our consent. She receives her share of the company profits twice a year, and since she sold the farm in France, that is the sum total of her income. “

  “Do you know what became of the money from the farm?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I believe most of it was used to extend the services at the children's hospital, as Paul Antoine had desired in his will. Emily would not hear of the money being used for any other purpose.”

  As both Jessica and Elizabeth sat silent, Caroline rose and made ready to leave. The sun was setting, and it would soon be dusk. Plainly she was not displeased with her mother's plans for Oakleigh; Elizabeth and Jessica could not help wondering at the response they would get from Robert and Rose and Lady Fitzwilliam of course! But, that was for another day, and they all prayed it would be very long in coming.

  However, later that evening, when they were at dinner, just Mr and Mrs Darcy with Jessica, Elizabeth was determined to introduce the subject of her cousin Emily's financial situation. She wished to discover how much Mr Darcy knew of the matter and what opinion he had of it.

  Waiting until the servants had left the room, she began, “Caroline believes my aunt Gardiner intends that Emily should inherit Oakleigh rather than Robert. I had always thought she would favour Robert. Do you know anything of this, Darcy?”

  Mr Darcy put down his knife and said, in a voice that reflected hardly any surprise, “I do, because Mrs Gardiner asked my advice, in confidence.”

  “And did you advise her to follow that course?” his wife asked, to which Mr Darcy smiled and said very quickly, “Certainly not, my dear. Your aunt was not asking for my opinion on whether to leave her property to Emily; she had decided that already. She wanted to know how to set about arranging it, without alerting Robert or Rose. My advice was limited to legal matters concerning the disposition of the estate, not the choice of beneficiary.”

  Elizabeth, finding herself stymied, pursued the matter down another track.

  “May we assume, then, that you agreed with her proposition?”

  “You may, Lizzie, but even if I did not, it would have made no difference—Mrs Gardiner was quite determined that she wanted it done. She has been concerned about making provision for Emily against the time when Dr Courtney retires from the living at Kympton. She is well aware that neither Emily nor her husband have much in savings and has decided to help them in this way.”

  His voice suggested he was quite comfortable with the proposition.

  “Is that because Emily has spent most of her patrimony on charitable causes and the children's hospital?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Indeed, and as a result they lead quite simple lives, as I am sure Jessica will testify,” said Mr Darcy, looking across at Jessica, who remained silent, “and while neither you nor I may wish to follow their example, it is their choice and one that compels admiration. I have a great deal of regard for Dr Courtney—he is a man of erudition and principle. As for Emily, you and I, Lizzie, know well her generosity of heart.”

  Turning again to Jessica, Mr Darcy added, “Your dear mother was a source of strength and comfort to us in a time of great sorrow; we could never adequately repay her kindness.”

  Jessica knew something of what he spoke; she had heard her mother and her grandmother speak in whispers of the death of her cousins, William Darcy and young Edward Fitzwilliam, and the toll it had taken on the entire family. Emily, whose own life had been in turmoil with the loss of her beloved husband, had become Elizabeth's friend and confidante.

  After a few minutes of silence, Elizabeth said very quietly, “Sometimes, Emily makes me ashamed; I think of all the pleasures we enjoy, yet she and Dr Courtney, by their acts of charity, deprive themselves of far more modest comforts.”

  Jessica recalled
her own feelings on hearing of her parents' situation and waited to hear what more Elizabeth would say, but Mr Darcy intervened, speaking more gently, this time.

  “They do not regard it as deprivation, Lizzie. I have spoken privately with Dr Courtney when last we discussed an increase in his stipend, and while he thanked me for my concern and appreciated the extra money he would receive, he assured me that Emily and he did not feel they were making any extraordinary sacrifices; rather they saw their work as enhancing their lives. When I asked if I could assist, he asked only for permission to use some of the men and materials on the estate to repair the houses of the Irish families who are settled on Litton Common. Naturally, I urged him to use whatever he needed and have instructed Mr Grantham to make the men available to do the work. He asked nothing for themselves.”

  There was silence around the table, as the servants entered to remove the dishes. Jessica was thoughtful, and Elizabeth asked no more questions.

  She had learned over the years of her life at Pemberley that Mr Darcy was a man of compassion and generosity; indeed, she who before her marriage had done little in the way of charity had been encouraged by her husband to become involved and had gained considerable satisfaction from her work in the community.

  Clearly, Jessica thought, Mr Darcy admired the work of her parents in the parish. While she had some knowledge of their activities in the community, Jessica had had little insight into the consequences, financial and otherwise, of their efforts and felt, as Elizabeth obviously did, somewhat ashamed of her ignorance. She determined that this at least would change in the future and was grateful to Mr Darcy for affording her the opportunity to do her share, by placing her in charge of the parish school at Pemberley.

  In the weeks that followed, Jessica turned her mind to the business of hiring a new school teacher. She consulted Mr Hurst, the school master, and Mr Darcy, who had been exceedingly keen that they obtain the services of “an educated and well-read lady of exemplary character and with experience in teaching young women.”