The Darcys of Pemberley

by Shannon Winslow

  “They both have the right temperament for parenthood, I daresay. I hope I shall be half so patient when my time comes. But, Lydia, if you find the company of the infants at Heatheridge so unpleasant, I should think you and your husband would be happy to be gone as soon as possible,” Elizabeth added helpfully … and hopefully.

  “By no means! I do not know when I have ever been so comfortable. Compared to our makeshift arrangements in Newcastle, Heatheridge is a vast deal more pleasant. The inconvenience of a little wailing from time to time is not worth mentioning when I think of it.”

  Elizabeth tried again. “Yet surely you and Wickham would rather be on your own. A married couple living in someone else’s home …” She shook her head. “The loss of privacy must pain you deeply.”

  “Certainly we should be glad to have a place of our own again as soon as ever we can afford something nice. Even a cottage with two or three servants would do, I should think. Yet I hardly know when that might be. In the meantime, you must not worry about us, Lizzy. Heatheridge is a big house, and the Bingleys are not very much in our way.”

  Elizabeth could only stare, incredulous at her sister’s lack of penetration and her selfish perspective. Kitty then entered the room, diverting Lydia’s attention and sparing Elizabeth the need to contrive a civil response to the thoughtless remark.

  Not until dinner did Mr. Darcy make an appearance, meeting his least favorite sister-in-law with tolerable composure and civility. Had she exercised enough discretion to leave her husband’s name out of her conversation, all might have been well. But discretion was a discipline over which Lydia had no command. Hardly had they sat down at table before she began to rattle on about “Wickham this” and “Wickham that,” making everybody, save herself, extremely uncomfortable. As soon as he was able, Mr. Darcy retreated to his study again, and an hour later Elizabeth sent both her sisters off in the Bingleys’ carriage, Kitty having decided to take the opportunity to move on to Heatheridge.

  Lydia’s visit only served to increase anxiety over an already-pressing problem. Elizabeth longed to discuss it with her husband – to share his troubles, to sympathize, to again apologize for the bad behavior of one of her relations – yet she was loath to risk distressing him further by raising the distasteful topic. Surprisingly, he opened the subject himself that evening.

  “Your sister was in fine spirits today, Elizabeth,” he said dryly, sitting down beside her on the paisley sofa at the foot of their bed.

  Laying aside her book, she raised rueful eyes to him. “Yes. I am sorry, Darcy. She seems quite pleased with her current situation, and not bothered in the least by the circumstances the rest of us find so vexing. From her manner of speaking, I believe she would be content to stay the rest of her life at Heatheridge.”

  He stared silently into the empty grate of the fireplace, the muscles of his jaw working.

  Elizabeth hastened to add, “I did hint more than once that it would be best if they quit the place, but Lydia could not – or would not – understand me.”

  “No, subtlety and diplomacy are lost on her. Something more direct is in order.” Darcy expelled a great sigh, abruptly rose, and crossed to the window.

  Elizabeth awaited his next move.

  When he turned back and continued, it was with a decisive tone. “Clearly, the Wickhams will not quit the comforts of Heatheridge voluntarily, and conscience forbids us to evict them with nowhere else to go. Although it galls me no end to give that man any more assistance, the only workable solution I can conceive of is to furnish Wickham another place to live and some work to do. Perhaps that will keep him out of trouble, and they both will begin to behave more responsibly. It is a hope rather than an expectation; past evidence gives little cause for optimism.”

  “So, what exactly do you propose?”

  “One of the larger tenant cottages on the outskirts of the estate has been vacant for some time. It is a fine house – nothing grand of course, but very comfortable. I am thinking of giving it over to them and charging Wickham with the management of the farm attached. The land is good and he is clever enough. I am certain he could make a success of it if he chooses.”

  Seeing by his pained aspect what this concession cost him, Elizabeth cried, “That is exceedingly generous! They neither one of them deserves such kindness.”

  “You give me too much credit for disinterested charity, my love. I am sorry to disillusion you, but I confess that my first inclination is to send them both far, far away – some place where they could neither disturb us nor threaten the well-being of our friends again. However, that is not in my power. For now, the best alternative may be for them to remain close enough for us to monitor their activities and exercise some control.”

  “But can you bear to have them so near by?”

  “I suppose I shall have to. While it is always more agreeable to have one’s friends close at hand, I believe it is sometimes wise to keep one’s enemies even closer.”

  Chapter 27

  Interlude

  On the following day, two letters arrived with the post.

  “Thank you, Henderson,” said Elizabeth, taking them from the butler’s tray. She located Mr. Darcy in the library, and they perused the missives together.

  The first, from the Hursts, heralded their intended arrival with Miss Bingley in two days’ time. The other came from Georgiana. Elizabeth longed to know how she and Fitzwilliam were getting on, and whether or not any romantic attraction had developed on his side. But, since the letter was addressed to both her and her husband, Elizabeth knew better than to expect any straightforward information on that question. Although Fitzwilliam’s name was mentioned more than once in Georgiana’s general account of her doings in London, Elizabeth could ferret out no subtle clues to satisfy her curiosity.

  “Your sister keeps very busy in town,” she remarked after they finished reading. “She makes good use of her extended stay from the sound of it. Even if she comes away with no other benefit, I believe she will return to Pemberley a more confident young lady than when she left it.”

  “Quite so. It also pleases me to hear that Fitzwilliam has been so much in her company. I think it must do him good to be drawn out into society again, and it is to Georgiana’s advantage to be under his protection.”

  “Yes, let us hope the arrangement works to benefit them both. And even though your sister says nothing of new suitors, we still cannot rule out the possibility of some progress on the romantic front before she leaves London,” Elizabeth said, thinking of Fitzwilliam.

  “All I really require is her safe return, and she makes no mention of when that might be expected.”

  “I do hope she will not stay away much longer. I miss her, and I would like her to be here when the baby comes.”

  “That would be a great comfort to us both.” After some hesitation he continued, “Do you expect your mother to attend you during your confinement?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I cannot say. She wrote that her intention was to come well in advance of the expected time and to stay a good long while. In response, I thanked her for her kind offer but suggested she come later with my father, after the event instead, in order to spare her nerves. I can only hope she takes my recommendation to heart. Or perhaps Papa will persuade her to stay away. As a last resort, I may impose upon Jane to distract her, for I really do not think I could bear my mother’s histrionics at such a time.”

  “Indeed. The last thing you need now is to be wearied by the presence of a house full of extra people, when you should be guarding your health and preserving your strength. Therefore, I believe I must proceed with my plan to shift the Wickhams without delay. The sooner they leave Heatheridge, the shorter will be the stay of our own house guests. I intend to ride over to the cottage myself shortly, with Mr. Adams, to see what is needed to make the place ready for new occupants. I have also written to Bingley for his opinion of the idea and how it might be accomplished.”

  Before long, the servant announced
that the master’s horse was ready and that Mr. Adams waited outside. Elizabeth wished her husband a safe and successful mission, and then went to the window to watch him ride away.

  Mr. Darcy found the cottage in good condition, needing only a few minor repairs and a thorough cleaning. He directed Mr. Adams to see to the improvements at once, and together they thrashed out a workable plan for the prospective tenants. Although the house stood vacant, the land had been kept in cultivation under Mr. Adams’ supervision. The new manager would only need to carry on with the system already in place. Wickham would find assistance close to hand, should he need it, but no officious interference.

  The idea was to make the situation as attractive and predisposed to success as possible. The income derived from the farm, when added to his half-pay as a retired army officer, could keep Mr. Wickham and his wife very comfortably if only he would avail himself of the opportunity. Despite Darcy’s misgivings, he really hoped that, for the sake of all concerned, Wickham would take advantage of this one last chance to prosper.

  ~*~

  Whilst her husband was gone, Elizabeth retreated to their bedchamber for her afternoon nap, a practice she had recently adopted. When Darcy returned, he discovered her still asleep. Soft light from the window filtered through the sheer draperies, playing across her face and disheveled hair. Finding the sight irresistible, he silently shed his boots and outer garments and carefully slipped in beside his wife, intending to cradle her in his arms and possibly drift off to sleep himself.

  Stealthy as he was, however, the disruption was enough to wake Elizabeth. She rolled over to face him, stretching contentedly. “Back so soon?” she asked with her eyes only half open.

  “Hush, darling. Go back to sleep. I did not mean to disturb you,” he whispered.

  “What time is it?”

  “About half past three, I should think.”

  “Good heavens,” she said with no real alarm. “I have been asleep for hours. I suppose I should be getting up.”

  “Nonsense. Rest as long as you like. Your only job now should be to take care of yourself and our child,” he said, affectionately stroking her well-rounded belly through her chemise. “That is all that is important.”

  “I daresay I have had more than enough sleep for one afternoon. Yet I confess I am in no hurry to leave this bed, especially now you are come. Are you quite certain you did not mean to disturb me, husband?”

  “How can you suspect me, Elizabeth? Did we not both agree to abstain from other enjoyments for the duration, for the sake of the child?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir. My mistake. Perhaps it is my own thoughts that are suspect,” she said, twining her fingers through the dark curls that framed his face.

  As often happened, the thoughts of one inspired ideas of the other until they were both fairly carried away. Although they did not forsake their agreement entirely, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy did manage to find considerable enjoyment in the situation … and they came down quite late to dinner that afternoon.

  ~*~

  The two days Darcy and Elizabeth had to themselves before the arrival of their next house guests were far too precious to waste. They knew another such opportunity might not come along for some time. Having friends, family, and soon a child always with them was one kind of delight, but this was quite another. They elected to savor it to the fullest extent while it lasted, spending as much time together as possible. All but the most urgent business gave way in favor of more pleasant pursuits. They slept late and took their breakfast in their rooms. Leisurely walks round the park and talk of matters both trivial and profound: these were the order of the day.

  The hours melted away all too rapidly, leaving fond memories and refreshed spirits to mark their passing. Sunday brought the prospect of the Hursts and Miss Bingley arriving at the gates of Pemberley by dinnertime. First, however, there would be a trip to Kympton for church. Since the weather was exceptionally fine, Mr. Darcy decided to drive himself and his wife in the curricle, the better to take in the open air and view the countryside along the way. With green pastures and still waters fresh in their minds, Mr. Thornton’s message from the twenty-third Psalm seemed singularly fitting.

  Most of the congregation lingered outside for a time following the service to enjoy the superior day and greet their neighbors. Darcy and Elizabeth looked for Ruth Sanditon and happily found Mr. Sanditon alongside her. Although the gentleman was more frequently at church now than in the past, his presence there still could not be presumed from one Sunday to the next.

  Greetings were exchanged between the four friends, with the customary how-do-you-do’s and very-well-thank-you’s being passed all round.

  “I hope you do not mind my saying so,” added Mr. Sanditon, “but you are looking especially well today, Mrs. Darcy. I have always thought that there is a particular grace and nobility about a woman in your…situation. Forgive me. Perhaps that was indelicate. I can be so clumsy sometimes.”

  Elizabeth was surprised by the sentiment but not in the least offended. “Not at all, Mr. Sanditon. I should think our friendship is secure enough by now that we may speak freely. I thank you for the compliment.”

  “The sight of you has put me very much in mind of my late wife,” he continued in a lower voice. “You have something of her coloring, Mrs. Darcy, and she was never more beautiful than when she was with child. I often told her so, yet I daresay she did not believe me.” He stopped and averted his eyes. “Well, how I do ramble on.”

  Elizabeth hastened to his rescue. “And how are your daughters, Mr. Sanditon? It has been so long since we have seen them.”

  On safer ground now, Mr. Sanditon relaxed, speaking of Abigail and Amelia with warmth and pride. Ruth, from her frequent contact with the girls, was able to confirm the good report their father gave and add her own details. Then conversation moved on. Mr. Sanditon asked after Georgiana again; Ruth shared the contents of a letter she had received from Charlotte; and the Darcys told of their arriving house guests.

  By this time, most of the other parishioners had dispersed, and the rector was free to join the Darcys’ party. “Please accept my compliments, Mr. Thornton,” Darcy told him. “That was a first-rate sermon – most inspiring.”

  “It is hard to go wrong with such good material,” he said chuckling. “The real credit should go to the author, do not you think so?”

  “Quite, but we may still be grateful to the messenger, I believe.”

  “Just as you say, then, Mr. Darcy. I find I cannot fault your logic in that. And Mr. Sanditon, I am glad to see you again. May I inquire after your family? Are your daughters well, sir?”

  “I thank you, yes.”

  “Next time you come, you really must bring them with you,” Mr. Thornton continued.

  “Would not the noise of small children be an unwelcome disruption?”

  “On the contrary. Jesus welcomed little ones, and he is always our example. I believe the good people of this parish would consider it a real treat to see your girls here, Mr. Sanditon, as indeed would I. My feeling is that the church should be filled with the sounds of life. Voices lifted in song and the laughter of children are two of my particular favorites. We must not always be solemn, you know, even in church!” Mr. Thornton concluded jovially.

  Once back at Pemberley, Darcy and Elizabeth had little to do but await the arrival of their guests. It was a warm afternoon, which Elizabeth felt most keenly just then, so they retreated to the coolest part of the house and took their ease.

  “I was amused by Sanditon’s compliment to you this morning, Lizzy,” said Darcy. “What an odd thing for him to say!”

  “I thought it rather sweet, actually, especially his reference to his late wife. From that and other things he has said, I take it he was quite devoted to her. Poor man. It must be very lonely for him.”

  “Yes. He does not speak of it often, even to me, but I believe he feels the loss deeply, both for himself and for the children.”

  “Yet he is muc
h improved, even since we have known him. Do not you think so, Darcy? I believe getting out more and having Ruth and Charlotte at the cottage to keep him company has done him a world of good.”

  “Yes, and perhaps in time he will marry again.”

  “Perhaps so,” Elizabeth agreed, having the certain knowledge that was exactly what Mr. Sanditon had in mind. She wondered what Darcy would say if he knew that his own sister was prospectively the next mistress of Reddclift.

  Chapter 28

  House Guests

  Pemberley had played host to Mr. Bingley’s sisters, Louisa and Caroline, and more recently Louisa’s husband Mr. Hurst, many times in the past. The chief appeal of their visits in days gone by had been the fact that the party always included Mr. Bingley. Bereft of that advantage, the prospect of their coming this time held little charm.

  Mr. Hurst’s social resources were limited, the scope of his powers being mainly confined to a willingness to shoot and a competency in card-playing. Although the ladies were better endowed with accomplishments, neither of them shared their brother’s amiable disposition and charitable heart. Without these, their other talents soon wore thin and their elegance seemed a hollow thing. Nevertheless, the Darcys intended to accept their coming with grace.

  At two o’clock in the afternoon, they arrived. The fashionable Miss Bingley alighted first from the barouche, accepting Mr. Darcy’s hand to assist her, and holding it a little longer than was strictly necessary. She favored him with her sweetest smile and salutation before addressing Elizabeth with a less sincere version of the same.

  Mr. and Mrs. Hurst then emerged from the carriage. In their case, it was the gentleman more than the lady who required a steadying hand. Mr. Hurst was a man in his middle years with a figure that bore testament to his longstanding devotion to fine food and drink. Hence, he was not so agile as he once had been. The Hursts greeted the Darcys with the formal courtesy practiced so scrupulously by the supercilious people of their social circle. As they all proceeded indoors, Darcy and Elizabeth faced the daunting prospect of two hours to fill with conversation before dinner.