Postscript from Pemberley

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  Walking together in the avenue to the west of the house, watching the light fade from a reddening sky, there was nothing more significant to occupy them than the enjoyment of their present delight and the contemplation of their future happiness.

  END OF PART FIVE

  IT WAS PROBABLY AN indication of the popularity of Darcy Gardiner that almost everyone had a view on his forthcoming marriage to Kathryn O'Hare.

  His parents were both pleased and relieved, having begun lately to worry that their second son appeared to have none of the ambition that drove his elder brother and few specific plans for his future. That he had decided to remain in Derbyshire rather than move to Westminster pleased his mother very well, and her fondness for Kathryn increased her satisfaction considerably.

  After the couple had been seen together at the May Festival, news of their engagement spread quickly through the district, and congratulations were generally forthcoming from friends and relations alike. The family at Colley Dale were deemed by all their neighbours to be exceedingly fortunate, for was not young Darcy Gardiner regarded as the most eligible young gentleman in the district? Kathryn O'Hare, they declared, had made a very good match. Mr and Mrs O'Hare were clearly delighted that their daughter was also likely to be very happy in her marriage.

  Mr and Mrs Darcy had made it clear to anyone who cared to ask their opinion that they approved entirely of the choice their grandson had made.

  They had a very high opinion of Miss O'Hare.

  Writing to her friend Charlotte Collins, Elizabeth was generous:

  Kathryn is both beautiful and intelligent, a rare enough combination today when beautiful girls seem to feel it is their role to behave as though they had forgotten how to think and intelligent women are regarded, in general, as having no appeal whatsoever, save in their mastery of the mathematical tables! Kathryn is educated, charming, and devoted to my grandson. My dear Charlotte, I cannot imagine a happier circumstance.

  Most other members of the family were agreed that it was a happy match between two particularly agreeable and popular young people.

  Jane Bingley, whose opinion was never far from her sister Elizabeth's, declared she was delighted and was sure they would be very happy, while Caroline Fitzwilliam, who had always regarded Miss O'Hare as a modern, intelligent young woman, told her nephew he was a very fortunate fellow to have secured her affections.

  “There are not many young women who could lay claim to your Kathryn's looks, education, and style, yet would wish to live in the country. Most often, they become bored and seek the kind of society one can find chiefly in London, Paris, or Bath, as your uncle Robert's wife Rose and the Bingley sisters have done,” said Caroline, and Darcy, who valued her good opinion, did not dispute it. He was well aware of his own good fortune.

  For Lizzie Carr, her brother's choice came as close to perfection as she could imagine, for she held Kathryn in very high esteem, while her husband, knowing something of Darcy's earlier tribulations in matters of the heart, was well pleased to see his friend so content at last. Mr Carr and his wife both agreed that Kathryn was a more appropriate bride for Darcy than the lady he had failed to win. While they all loved gentle Jessica Courtney, it was Kathryn they had come to admire for her style and intelligence, and they were convinced that she suited young Darcy best.

  Perhaps most happy was his cousin David Fitzwilliam, himself now a happily married man, who owed much of his own present satisfaction to Darcy's timely advice. Arriving from Manchester to stand beside his cousin as his best man, David proclaimed his opinion to anyone who would listen. “I think Darcy is just the luckiest fellow to be marrying one of the handsomest, most charming ladies I have met,” he declared, as though defying anyone to contradict him. None who knew the couple did.

  There were others, however, within and without the family who did not agree and were not averse to expressing their reservations. Notes and letters were swiftly and sharply exchanged between some of those who, having had very little opportunity to form an opinion on the matter, being wholly disconnected from the couple, presumed to do so, just the same.

  Darcy's brother Edward's wife, Angela, always particular about matters of reputation and social status, had declared in a letter to Rose Gardiner that:

  Despite her obvious attractions, there is something lacking in Miss O'Hare's background, which must surely make one pause when assessing her suitability as a wife for a young man from such a reputable family. You would not have believed that Darcy Gardiner would consider such a person as Daniel O'Hare suitable to be his father-in-law and grandfather to his children in the future!

  To which remark, Rose had replied with equal aplomb:

  Indeed you are so right, Angela, Kathryn O'Hare does lack something. My dear mama thinks the wild Irish background of her father is the cause; after all he was no more than a horse trainer at the Camden stud. Mama is amazed that the Gardiners have permitted the match and wonders why Mr Darcy did not forbid it!

  Rose Gardiner's dear mama had not counted on her ill-advised remarks being conveyed to the Gardiners and Darcys. Consequently, she found to her consternation that no invitation to the wedding was forthcoming for herself and her husband Sir James Fitzwilliam. Cassy, having learned from her son Edward of Lady Fitzwilliam's low opinion of Kathryn's family, had decided that if this were the case, she should be spared the distress of attending the wedding, at which the O'Hares were unavoidably present.

  Having removed their names from her list, she remarked mischievously, “Mama, I cannot believe that their disappointment at being left out will be greater than my satisfaction at not having them attend,” and to her delight, her mother had agreed.

  “I think it very unlikely they will be missed,” said Elizabeth, who had long since abandoned any hope of reclaiming her former friend Rosamund Camden, whom she had known and liked when she was the daughter of a simple farming family. Though only recently elevated to high status through her husband's unexpected accession to a title, she nevertheless took it very seriously and had adopted a loftiness of manner that greatly vexed Mrs Darcy.

  Consequently, when the families gathered at Kympton on a fine, Autumn morning to see Darcy Gardiner wed Kathryn O'Hare, Sir James and Lady Fitzwilliam were notably absent. Robert and Rose Gardiner did attend but had little to say to anyone except Edward and Angela Gardiner and, after an initial formal introduction, scrupulously avoided the company of the O'Hares. Having survived the service at the church, they left, ostensibly returning to London, to the immense relief of the rest of the party.

  “I could not imagine them sitting down to the wedding breakfast at Colley Dale,” said Lizzie Carr to her mother, whose expression betrayed her own satisfaction at their early departure.

  “Neither can I, but their rudeness is unpardonable. This must be Lady Fitzwilliam's doing. It beggars belief that the acquisition of a title can so alter the values and manners of anyone as much as they have changed Rosamund Camden. Mama says she used to be a very agreeable young woman,” Cassandra remarked, to which her daughter replied blithely, “Who has certainly turned into a most disagreeable old lady!”

  Conspicuously absent, too, was Lydia Wickham, who, alas, had heard the news too late to procure a suitably grand gown and hat for the occasion and sufficient funds to make another journey to Derbyshire.

  Visiting Charlotte Collins at Longbourn, she had bemoaned her inability to attend.

  “If only I had known sooner, I should certainly have attended; young Darcy is quite a favourite of mine, for he is a pleasant, well-mannered young fellow, not as high and mighty as his grandfather,” she had said regretfully, unaware that Charlotte had heeded her friend Eliza's pleas and not revealed the date and details of Darcy Gardiner's wedding to Lydia.

  Dear Charlotte, I do not think any of us could cope with another dose of Lydia! Elizabeth had written and Charlotte had understood.

  Unable to undertake the long train journey to Derbyshire, Charlotte herself would have to rely upon her
niece Anna Bingley and her granddaughter Anne-Marie Elliott to bring her reports of the wedding.

  Elizabeth was disappointed. “I do wish Charlotte could have been here,” she said to Jane. “She writes that her rheumatism is worse and prevents her making long journeys. I am glad that Catherine intends to visit her mother on their return journey to Kent—I am sure Charlotte will enjoy that. She says she is looking forward to hearing all about the wedding.”

  Charlotte's eldest daughter, Catherine Harrison, whose husband the Reverend Dr Harrison had the dubious distinction of being the longest serving incumbent at the parish of Hunsford, had already arrived for the wedding and was staying at Pemberley, at the invitation of the Darcys.

  She had explained that, sadly, Dr Harrison, who suffered from intermittent palpitations of the heart, had on the advice of his doctor felt unable to undertake the journey from Kent to Derbyshire.

  Catherine, who remained a remarkably active and handsome rector's wife, came accompanied by her younger daughter, Lilian, a quiet-spoken, gentle girl, whose attachment to a certain Mr Adams, curator of the Rosings Park Estate, had only recently been revealed to her mother. It was not generally known, and Catherine and Lilian had agreed that, in view of the fact that the gentleman had not as yet applied to her father, nothing would be said of the matter to anyone else, for the moment.

  Both Elizabeth and Mr Darcy had commented upon the extent to which Catherine Harrison resembled her mother in disposition and manner, though she was certainly handsomer than Charlotte.

  “Yes indeed, and by some stroke of good fortune, there appears to be little trace of their lugubrious father in any of the Collins' daughters,” said Mr Darcy. Elizabeth could not but agree.

  “In Catherine, there is, in addition to Charlotte's sound common sense, a natural grace and dignity, which does her great credit, and it seems she has passed some of that on to young Lilian.”

  While young Lilian was in raptures about the bride's beautiful lace gown, her mother was more impressed with the dedication of the couple to the people of their community and the decision Darcy Gardiner had taken to forego a career in politics to remain at Pemberley.

  “I understand young Mr Gardiner will not stand for Parliament after all,” she had remarked to Elizabeth. “I have no doubt his friends at Westminster will be exceedingly disappointed.”

  Elizabeth had explained the reasons Darcy had given for his decision, and Catherine continued, “And Miss O'Hare, Cassandra tells me she is a most remarkable young lady; I believe she has undertaken to run the parish school at Pemberley.”

  Once again Elizabeth agreed, “She has indeed, and the young girls of the area, who have no other means of learning to read and write, love her dearly for it.”

  Catherine was very impressed. “Such significant service to one's community is rare indeed,” she said and added, with a note of regret in her voice, “Had Lady Catherine de Bourgh agreed to let us start such a school at Hunsford, we might well have had the opportunity to do likewise. Mr Harrison and I had great plans, but sadly, Her Ladyship was of the opinion that educating the girls of the parish would only give them ideas above their station and make them discontented with their lot in life.”

  Anne-Marie, who with her husband Colin Elliott had joined the group outside the church, was quite shocked and said so. “I could not possibly agree with such a preposterous assertion. It presupposes that they must accept that a life of drudgery is their lot. My husband is very disappointed indeed that Darcy will not stand for a seat in Parliament, but he does admit that the work he does at Pemberley is very valuable. As for Miss O'Hare, her resolve to carry on Jessica Courtney's work in educating the girls of the village, I absolutely applaud.”

  Colin Elliott did not disagree with his wife, but he had been unable to hide his deep disappointment when he had sought out his friend on the afternoon before the wedding to offer him his sincere felicitations.

  “Darcy, my friend, I am sorry that some tardiness on the part of our government in fulfilling the pledges made to the people has turned you against them. I should have liked to see you take the issues that are so dear to your heart into the Parliament and fight for them there,” he had said.

  It was then that Darcy had admitted there were other reasons for his decision than his disillusionment with the performance of the government.

  “I must be frank with you, Colin; it is true that I have found the entire debate on the Irish church tedious and unproductive; the tenancy laws have only increased sectarian bitterness in Ireland and are likely to create more, not less conflict between Catholics and Protestants—they are divisive and ineffective,” said Darcy, continuing on a familiar theme. “But most of all, I have sensed a lack of resolve on the two issues most vital for the people of England; there is no plan to reform the thoroughly inadequate systems of health and education, and no more than a hint that something substantial will be done in the future.

  “They were the concerns that made me a Reformist and a supporter of Mr Gladstone, not arcane issues of church and state! These may engage the minds of politicians at Westminster and deans at Oxford, but they will in no way improve the lot of the people, who continue to suffer at the bottom of the social ladder. I have lost patience with them.”

  He had spoken with great passion, and Colin Elliott had listened intently before asking, “But, Darcy, if this were all, I still believe we could have persuaded you to join us and fight for these causes from within.”

  Seeing Darcy smile, he added, “I'll wager any amount you care to name, there is another reason for your refusal.”

  Darcy responded quickly, “Save your money, my friend, I am not a betting man. I will concede, I have other concerns as well.”

  He then revealed the reasons, which they had never discussed before.

  “My family needs me here, Colin. You know that my mother is Anthony's legal guardian until he attains his majority; she needs my help to prepare the boy for his inheritance. But even then, he may not be ready to take over all his responsibilities for this great estate and its people. And if, God forbid, he is called to it earlier by my grandfather's untimely death or incapacity, their need of me will be the greater. I have lived here all my life. I know all these people; I understand their problems, and I have given my word to Mr Darcy, from which I will not resile.”

  After this passionate speech, Colin Elliott had felt impelled to draw his friend's attention to certain simple facts.

  “Darcy, you do not need me to remind you that, despite your very noble dedication to Pemberley and your grandfather's family, you will never be more than the manager of this estate. Whenever young Anthony Darcy succeeds to his inheritance, he will be the Master of Pemberley. Your role will not change. Are you happy with such a situation? Do you not wish to be your own master and achieve something in your own right?”

  Darcy threw back his head and laughed, “Colin, surely you do not mean to suggest that I could be my own master in the Parliament?”

  “No, but you will have influence on policy…” Elliott protested.

  “Will I?” Darcy's voice had betrayed his scepticism, and then he had smiled, in that disarming way that always unsettled his opponents. “Colin, you are a very dear friend and a valued colleague; I have no wish to quarrel with you. I owe you a great deal and ask you to believe that my decision has been made only after much thought and is dependent upon what I believe to be in the interest of myself, Kathryn, and my family.

  “I have no unrealistic ambitions for myself. I know I cannot inherit any part of the estate, but I too have received a legacy from Pemberley whose worth cannot be estimated in mere monetary terms. I have enjoyed my life here and am grateful to be the beneficiary of its great traditions and feel the need to give something in return.”

  Colin Elliott had appeared a little nonplussed, unable to comprehend his meaning, and Darcy had explained, “I have no profession and no estate. Were I to enter Parliament now and leave it in ten years' time, I should still b
e no better qualified than I am now. Pemberley has given me both the opportunity and the means to do something worthwhile with my life. “

  “And you cannot accomplish this in the Parliament?” asked Elliott.

  “Not at this time—I can see no better way for me to accomplish something useful for the people of this estate, for my grandparents and myself, than to remain here and continue the work I am engaged in. I have plans that may help see us through this rural recession, which everyone predicts is upon us. If it is indeed true, then hundreds of families will be grievously hurt and disadvantaged; I feel the need to work to avert or at least alleviate their hardship. I have discussed my ideas with Mr Darcy and have his consent to try; it is my duty and my genuine desire to do so. If I succeed, that will be my lasting legacy,” Darcy replied.

  “Are you determined then never to stand for Parliament, or is it possible you will reconsider it at a later time?” Elliott asked, unwilling to believe that his friend had abandoned politics for good.

  Darcy shrugged his shoulders. “Who can tell what may be possible at some later date? I am not able to say. But I can tell you quite sincerely that I will always retain an interest in Reformist politics—I shall not abandon you and my other colleagues in the party. Indeed, I shall be watching your work with great interest and will support you whenever and however I can.”

  So saying, he had parted from his friend to meet again at the church on the morrow. Colin Elliott was deeply saddened and disheartened. He had set his heart on seeing young Darcy Gardiner in Parliament.

  It seemed it was not to be.

  Darcy had been too preoccupied with preparations for his marriage to be troubled by regrets or recriminations. Since his conversation with Colin Elliott, his thoughts had turned almost completely to the anticipated happiness of sharing his life, his hopes and successes, and perhaps even the occasional, inevitable failures with the young woman he had come to love so well.