“That is simply nonsense. a young lady in the poorhouse! Of course, you must stay… as my particular guest until all of this is sorted out. Now, no more distressing talk. You must be tired from your journey and in need of a bath and some rest. If it is not a bother, can dinner be sent up for us both? Mary can stay in the chamber that adjoins mine, we shall make a party of it?”
To this, Darcy and Elizabeth heartily agreed. Georgiana needed a friend her age, just as much as Mary. Telling her of Henry Wainright’s wishes could wait until later. It was only after Georgiana had removed Mary above stairs, that they were able to speak plainly about the situation.
“I shudder to think what Lydia and Wickham have done to upset her so. Mary is not normally one to exaggerate, and certainly not one to run off. Circumstances must be truly dire…”
Elizabeth’s voice trailed; she did not want to be the one to always settle family disputes. Nor did she want her husband to feel obligated every time one of her relations did something foolish. Watching his face, his emotions were unreadable, only the grim countenance revealed the severity of his thoughts.
“I have always imagined the worst when it came to Wickham. A man cannot simply resign a commission for no reason. I shall write to my cousin and ask him to look into the matter before making any conclusions. Perhaps a letter to Jane will also provide some clarity. Nothing can be done tonight and no action should be taken without deep consideration.”
“You are right as always, but I still have the feeling that the trouble is just beginning.”
Darcy did not reply, but reached across the table and took her hand. They would weather any storm together, but he was finished with catering to George Wickham.
*****
The next morning brought sunshine, but no serenity as Elizabeth and Darcy found the girls already at breakfast, entertaining a guest. Mary’s sullen resolve had softened overnight, but the addition of Henry Wainright so early ruined any opportunity to question her further. Seated comfortably between the two, Henry alternated his attentions, but clearly resented the presence of Elizabeth’s sister. Amused by his frustration, Georgiana suggested they spend the day showing Mary the estate.
“This is Miss Bennet’s first visit to Pemberley. As neither of us is much of a rider, we will require a carriage. The small open one will be perfect, and perhaps a picnic?”
“That does sound appealing, but Elizabeth and I must decline. There is a tenant matter to which we must attend, but do enjoy the day without us.” Darcy insisted as Elizabeth nodded her agreement. he was not about to lose his long overdue privacy with Elizabeth because of unexpected guests.
“I shall gladly attend the ladies. Miss Bennet, do you have a liking for history? I have a great affection for the architecture of the region, and consider myself quite knowledgeable,” Henry offered, making no attempt to disguise his pride.
Mary only nodded, and forced a smile. After taking refreshment the previous evening, she had been appraised of Miss Darcy’s opinions when it came to Sir Henry Wainright. Now, after taking his measure, Mary concurred with her hostess. The man was a consummate liar, all fawning praises and false pretenses. But she would tolerate him and cause no disgrace upon herself or her family. And, an outing in unfamiliar places should help to clear her troubled thoughts.
“Well, that settles it. Shall we agree to return by dinner? I should like Mary’s opinion of Pemberley,” Darcy said and returned to his plate. Perhaps having Mary Bennet around, would be of benefit to them all.
With the younger people occupied and absent, Darcy and Elizabeth took the opportunity to dispatch their correspondence of inquiry without question. Darcy’s to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth to her sister Jane.
“I do not know when she will receive it, as I do not have her London address. But I do wonder as to why no one at Longbourn chose to tell me of Lydia’s arrival. Perhaps it is only a temporary stay, until they find a more permanent arrangement? Surely, Papa would have written?”
Darcy wished he had his wife’s optimism, but he could not feign hope when his experiences with Wickham had always meant trouble. Sealing his letter, he felt grim. It had been terse and to the point, requesting the details of Wickham’s supposed resignation. With the progress of the horseless carriage nearing completion, he did not want to waste time journeying to Longbourn. Sighing, he placed Elizabeth’s letter to Jane with his own.
“I should prefer to send Mr. Stokes to deliver our correspondence. The post can be slow and unpredictable. The sooner we have news, the better.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her husband with gratitude, but hated the fact that her family continued to cause embarrassment. Would he eventually resent her for it? Resolving to make it up to him, Elizabeth released him and donned her riding bonnet.
“Well, nothing else can be done for the moment. I suggest we forget that everyone else exists and spend the day in idle romantic pursuits.”
“That is an excellent idea, Mrs. Darcy… and excellent idea indeed!”
~23~
Henry Wainright swore softly under his breath as he watched the two young ladies wander idly about the old chapel. His input on Pemberley had gone practically ignored for the entire day as the pair giggled and spoke of unimportant matters. Despite his well-versed knowledge of various landmarks, they had treated him little better than a servant. How was he ever going to have the opportunity to propose if there was never a moment alone with Georgiana? As for the interference of Miss Bennet, it seemed that Georgiana preferred the company of the plain mousey girl. If it were not for his dire need of funds, the scene before him would have settled his mind permanently against her. Now, as they ventured into the small cemetery just behind the ancient stone structure, he could hear them reading the names of long dead Darcys and speculating on their deeds. It was boredom beyond belief. He was wasting time that could be better spent in his own workshop or overseeing the improvements to Camberly. Camberly… that was another sore subject. He had been forced to take out a loan to install plumbing and make basic repairs. The newly acquired title had made that process easy, but with no secure way to repay the debt, not only would his reputation be in tatters if he failed, but the abbey lost entirely. Miss Bennet must be distracted long enough for a proposal. Pondering for only a moment, Henry thought that a harmless accident might render Miss Darcy into his solitary care. Smiling to himself, he slipped back to the carriage and retrieved the large basket filled with an assortment of delicacies. In addition to the foodstuffs, a corked bottle of wine had been included. Unpeeling the wax seal, Henry eased the cork to the mouth of the bottle. A bit of spilled wine on a lady’s gown would surely send her rushing home to change. Easy enough and entirely believable. Fortunately, as the afternoon sun warmed the day, his suggestion that they stop and enjoy the picnic luncheon was immediately agreed.
“What say we settle under that far tree? I rather prefer not to dine amongst the dead.” Henry suggested and held up the basket.
“I’d wager they won’t be asking for any handouts,” Miss Bennet replied sardonically.
“Oh Mary! What an imagination you have!” Georgiana said with a laugh. While Mary Bennet was a most practical sort, she was given to suppositions of fancy when it came to the dead and loved the telling of ghost stories.
“You may invite them all if it means I get to eat,” Henry replied in an attempt to sound congenial, but his voice betrayed his waning patience and the ladies quickened their pace.
“It seems that Sir Henry is quite the bear when hungry.” Mary added, but left the cemetery gate ajar as she beckoned all unseen entities to join them, causing Georgiana to join in her antics.
“So, it seems, perhaps he will eat us too?”
By now, Henry had spread a blanket and unpacked the food, feeling even more the servant. Why had he insisted upon driving them himself? Regretting his foresight, he played the gallant and set out their plates, pausing only to remove the wine bottle only to discover that it was nea
rly empty. His haste to cause trouble had resulted in the contents spilling out to discolor the bottom of the basket a deep purple.
“I admit, I haven’t much of a taste for wine anyway,” Mary acknowledged, but it did not solve the dilemma.
“My apologies ladies, but I fear that I have made a very poor footman. We will need to cut our tour short. Luncheon without drink will not do,” Henry insisted with relief, but Georgiana shook her head.
“Oh no we don’t! There is a springhouse just beyond the chapel. It has the best water! It will only take but a moment to fetch some.”
“A springhouse you say? Please allow me, it will make up for my carelessness.” Henry replied.
“It is quite hidden, perhaps it is best that I go. Why don’t you entertain Miss Bennet while I go?”
Georgiana winked at her guest and was treated to the sight of Mary’s grimace of distaste in retaliation, but her ploy was of no use. Mary was long accustomed to the antics of four sisters, Georgiana was no match for her expertise in avoiding unwanted persons.
“That is not necessary. I shall attend to the serving of the food. Besides, I must admit to not having worn the best shoes for such an outing. Your boots are more suitable for traipsing through the woods. Go with Sir Henry, we don’t want him to become lost, do we?”
Believing Mary Bennet to be an ally, Henry nodded in agreement. “I fear that directions are my one weakness. We won’t be but a moment.”
Ignoring Georgiana’s pleading look, Mary just waved them away and busied herself arranging the myriad of items in the basket, sorting what had been spoilt by the wine. If Miss Darcy did not want the attentions of Henry Wainright, it was entirely up to her to send him away. Having witnessed the overzealous pursuit of her cousin William Collins upon Elizabeth, Mary knew that some men required a bluntness of speech that bordered upon rudeness. Unless, Georgiana was willing to be so, she might find herself stuck with him for life. Finishing her task, Mary closed her eyes and reclined under the canopy of the tree. She may as well catch a nap while she awaited their return.
*****
Swinging the empty bottle between his fingers, Henry offered his arm to his companion. He could not believe his good fortune and slightly regretted his first assessment of Miss Mary Bennet. Rather than being an inconvenient interloper, her presence, as a sort of absentee chaperone, had delivered opportunity into his grasp. With the copse of trees directly ahead, he had precious little time to voice his request and struggled with how to begin. Clearing his throat, slowed his steps as they entered the thicket, hoping to stall for time.
“Whatever are you stopping for? The springhouse is just ahead, I can make out the brick walls through the foliage.”
“I… er… well, that is… Miss Darcy…. Georgiana… I have something rather important to request of you.”
“Whatever it is, surely it can wait until later? I am famished and the food may spoil in the heat. Besides, it is rude to leave Mary unattended.”
“I wish it could, but my head tells me otherwise… and is in agreement with my heart.”
At the choice of his words, Georgiana stopped stock still. In her haste, she had surged ahead and was now some paces before him, requiring her to turn about and face Henry.
“Your…your heart? Have you some sort of ailment? Perhaps we should not have taxed you so?” Georgiana suggested, but knew that what pained him had nothing to do with his physical well-being.
“Surely you must know how I feel about you?”
“Of course, we are great friends. Our families have known each other for generations…”
“Yes, exactly…but I see you as more than a friend… Georgiana, I want to marry you.”
“Marry? Me?” she gasped as his revelation sent her thoughts reeling. Marriage was the last thing she had wanted from Henry Wainright. Not a fool by any measure, Georgiana knew that Henry had been more attentive than a casual acquaintance, but marriage was out of the question. On outward appearances, he was all that a lady could hope for, but something about him always left her unsettled. It was as if there was some secret ill hidden deep inside Henry.
“Yes, you! Who else? … And if you are wondering, your brother is in agreement as well.”
“Fitzwilliam? He approves?”
“Indeed, I spoke with him yesterday.”
“I… this is all so sudden…your father has just passed; you are in mourning…I must have time to think.”
“Of? We are well suited, are we not? My home is close to Pemberley, so you need not miss your brother. My title will be yours…As for my father, he would heartily approve and see no reason for delay on his account. All that remains is your agreement.... Say you will be Lady Wainright?”
Georgiana thought frantically for an excuse and time seemed to crawl as the man before her waited for an answer. Moving closer, he took her chin in his hands and leaned forward to kiss her, dropping the wine bottle in a crash to the ground as glass met rock. The noise, so out of place in a forest, jarred Georgiana out of her haze and she hastily pulled away.
“You must allow me time… call it a lady’s prerogative.”
“A lady’s torture…but I will wait patiently… shall we say a week before I may announce our betrothal?
“A month… and remember... I have not said yes.”
Henry only smiled and bowed, his expectations were high despite the shards of glass and spatters of wine that dotted his shoes. Their loss was nothing in comparison to what he would soon gain. Looking down, he stepped gingerly away from the mess as Georgiana walked ahead of him, hands primly clasped behind her back, to avoid taking his arm.
“I believe our luncheon is over, Miss Bennet will surely understand. I should like to return home…I need some time to contemplate your proposal…in private.”
“I await your decision.”
~24~
As Georgiana and Miss Bennet returned home early, Elizabeth was thoroughly enjoying her outing with Darcy. Having been married less than half a year, there were still many things Elizabeth was learning about her husband and the place she now considered home. Although considered a gentleman landowner, her father’s estate was barely just so. In comparison to Pemberley, Longbourn was a mere croft and despite the training she and her sisters had for their futures managing a household, the difference between was staggering.
“I have been amiss in my duties. We should have toured the estate long before now. All of the tenants will be eager to meet you, but it cannot be done in one day. Some of the farmhouses are more than two miles from the house.”
“I really had no idea Pemberley was so vast. Longbourn has only three tenant farmers. I can walk the perimeter in a morning.”
Darcy only smiled and handed his bride up into the small single seat open carriage. He was well aware of the impression that Pemberley made, but he wanted Elizabeth to get a clearer picture of the responsibility it entailed. His obligation to preserve the estate for future generations was intense, as every decision made affected over a dozen people who depended upon its success for their livelihood.
“We shall not be forced to go on foot today, but I have always found that walking does allow one to take a better measure of their surroundings.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement and adjusted her bonnet against the bright sunlight. It was a rare fine day for this time of year, with no sign of rain.
“I should like to meet all of the people who live here.”
“They will love you… but not as much as I do.”
His words still made her blush and she turned away as the horse pulled the carriage forward with a jolt, taking them down a narrow lane beyond the stables. At first, there was nothing but park and rolling country side, interspersed with trees. But after a few minutes, the land widened to fields planted with wheat and pastures dotted with cows and sheep. Ahead, at a crossroads stood four modest farmhouses, one on each corner, allowing for closeness of neighbors, yet privacy. It was here that Darcy slowed the carriage. A group of men
shouldering thick bundles of thatch, worked at repairing a roof. Below, a man dressed more like a clerk than farmer, stood writing in a small book. His horse, tied to a post, twitched its tail in boredom, eager to leave the pastoral tranquility.
“There is Mr. Busby, my steward. He took over after old Wickham passed on, does a fine job, but can be rather fastidious. He can be critical of expenditures; however necessary they are.”
The man in question, hearing the arrival of a carriage, stopped his scribbling and bowed stiffly as Darcy pulled to a stop and assisted Elizabeth down.
“Busby… how goes the repairs?”
“A bit slower than expected… and more expensive. The recent rains did more damage than first realized, but we shall have it to rights.”
“Of course, you always do. May I introduce my wife, Elizabeth? We have not the pleasure of your company since arriving back in England.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance Mrs. Darcy…as you can see, Pemberley takes my attentions.”
Before Elizabeth could reply, a very pregnant young woman emerged shyly from the farmhouse. Behind, impeding her steps, another child clung to her apron. Coming forward, she curtseyed as low as her form would allow, biting her lower lip as if unsure as to how to proceed. Seeing her discomfort, Elizabeth smiled broadly and called out a greeting.
“Good morning! I hope we do not take you from anything pressing?”
“No madam,” the housewife replied as her child tugged again on her apron, propelling Elizabeth to crouch down to the child’s level.
“Well aren’t you a sweetie? My name is Elizabeth, what is yours?”
The child, no more than two years of age, stood shifting from one bare foot to another and promptly stuck a thumb into his mouth. His mother, recovering from her shyness, gently removed the digit before answering.
“James, like his father, but we call him Jamie. My husband is the one up on the far gable. I am Sadie Fisher; may I offer you some tea?”
Preserving Pemberley Page 10
