Preserving Pemberley

by Carrie Mollenkopf

  “A-hem, I see that everyone is quite recovered?”

  To this cheery inquest, not a word was said in reply, as not a single person concerned looked in his direction. Taking their silence as acceptance, he continued.

  “Well then, as we all know, George Wickham was removed from this house in the shackles of a criminal. He has also willfully admitted to all charges. A hearing will be commenced with sentencing by the end of the week. Of such, Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam will keep me appraised. However, let me be clear upon one thing… whatever the outcome… and it will be severe… no one is to speak of it inside these walls. And once it is done, Mr. Wickham is to be gone from our lives forever.”

  A quiet sniff, of barely controlled emotion, escaped Lydia’s lips as she buried her face in her handkerchief.

  “Ah, yes, dear Lydia, what will become of you…”

  Finding her voice, Lydia sat straighter in her chair and stared at her father. Never before had she seen him with such a cold, removed demeanor. For once, she was terrified of what he would do.

  “But Papa… I am his wife.”

  “Not for long. You will pack your things and travel to Devon. From there, someone will meet you to take you out to Greywinds house, the home of your Aunt Matilda. She has graciously offered you refuge. From there, your Uncle Gardiner will arrange for a quiet divorce.”

  “But… for how long? I…I have not seen Aunt Matilda in years… she’s a stranger.”

  “Stranger or not, she is the only family willing to take you in. I suggest that during your time there, you do your best to endear yourself to her peculiarities, for you will not be returning home. Nor, shall I or your mother be visiting. Only if Matilda chooses to make the journey to Longbourn will anyone in these parts see you for some time.”

  “I won’t go… you cannot make me.”

  “Oh yes I can. By the end of the week, that husband of yours will either be destined for the gallows or prison. As you are still a legal child and without means, I have complete control over you. With such a scandal upon you, no one will dare take you in.”

  To this last, Lydia bore with what little composure she possessed before rushing from the room. Half rising in an attempt to follow, Mrs. Bennet’s actions were stilled by a glare from her husband, daring her to defy him.

  “Let her go. She must learn to live with the choices she has made. May I remind you that we have two other children that do not deserve to be neglected for the sake of one? Kitty and Mary have suffered enough. I suggest you focus your attentions on those more worthy.”

  Having had his say, Mr. Bennet considered the matter closed and did exactly what he expected from the rest of his family. From that day forward, the name George Wickham never escaped his lips again, rendering him a most pleasant man once again.

  ~34~

  Netherfield, two weeks later…

  Elizabeth Darcy held a hand to her mouth as she rushed to the adjoining dressing chamber. It was nearly dawn, and she had trouble sleeping despite the comforts available. Only with the best of luck had she made the short distance from the bed without waking her husband. Of late, the morning nausea had seemed to increase by leaps and bounds. At first, she had blamed the recent incidents involving her family, but now, as the time to finally return to Pemberley had arrived, the suspicions privately held were confirmed. She was with child. Ordinarily, such discoveries would be met with the greatest of joys, and Elizabeth was indeed happy. But, the gloom in which she would leave her father would take a long time to lift. Perhaps when the child arrived, she would send an invitation to her parents and Kitty to have an extended visit. If her mother chose not to accompany them, so be it. Elizabeth was finished with catering to the whims of Mrs. Margaret Bennet. Despite Elizabeth’s continued presence, her mother refused to speak to her… or anyone, remaining locked in her chamber. They had been forced to accept Jane’s offer of hospitality at Netherfield to escape the hostilities. How such a woman could have given birth to children so unlike herself was amazing, but only Lydia had managed to emulate the degree of selfishness possessed by her mother. And now, Lydia would suffer the consequence of her careless actions.

  As promised, Colonel Fitzwilliam had kept them all appraised as to the outcome of George Wickham’s trial and sentencing. It had taken only an hour for the tribunal of officers to decide his fate. And, while it was severe, it was not the hanging they feared. George Wickham would spend the next five years at hard labor aboard the prison ship Temeraire. He had been stripped of all rank and fined the sum of two thousand pounds. How he would pay such a sum while imprisoned no one knew. What little possessions he and Lydia had were of no value. For that alone, they were thankful. There had been more than one woman to lose her dowry to pay off the debts of a troublesome husband. As to a divorce, Elizabeth’s uncle Gardiner assured them that while it would take considerable time, it would be procured, leaving Lydia free to marry again. Somehow, Elizabeth doubted that eligible men were in great supply where Lydia was going. From her own memories of Aunt Matilda, Elizabeth recalled a rigidness of personality that rivaled Darcy’s own Aunt Catherine de Bourgh. For a moment, she imagined a meeting between the two dowagers.

  “More like a battlefield…” she muttered aloud, just as another wave of nausea caused her stomach to recoil. Having not eaten in some hours, Elizabeth only felt bile rise, but that too would not remain where it belonged. Fortunately, the bouts were relatively short lived and soon she was back in the warmth of her husband’s arms. Only this time, he was wide awake and eyeing her with curiosity.

  “Something you want to share with me?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. From the expression on his face, Elizabeth knew her ruse was over.

  “I suppose you have guessed… I just wanted to be sure. And then, all of this happened.”

  “A silver lining, and one that could not be more welcome!”

  Elizabeth smiled weakly, but was elated that Darcy was pleased. All that remained was to return home and finish the steam carriage. In the fortnight that they had been gone, no word of progress had reached them. With the demonstration now less than a month away, she was anxious to see its completion. Pushing all thoughts of her family aside, Elizabeth again slid from the bed and began to dress.

  “If I am to have a child, there is much to be done, and the sooner we begin the journey home, the better. Jane and Charles will understand if we leave today.”

  Darcy only nodded as he too rose, but paused to wrap his arms around her, placing a kiss just below her ear. He too was ready to put Longbourn and his in-laws at a distance.

  ~35~

  While Elizabeth and Darcy said their good byes to Jane and Charles, Georgiana Darcy grumbled to herself as she dressed for an afternoon of entertaining. Sir Henry Wainright was due for tea, much to Georgiana’s irritation, and Mary Bennet’s amusement.

  “A wasted day… could be better spent fitting the new windscreen!”

  “I agree, but you were the one to give consideration to his proposal. Now he believes you to have an interest.”

  “Perhaps I shall settle upon some flaw in his manner today and send him packing… something silly, such as the color of his handkerchief.”

  “It will take more than that. A man is likely to overlook much when a lady has thirty thousand for a dowry. You should have been present when Elizabeth refused Mr. Collins. Despite her rationale and declarations of unsuitability, the fool refused to listen. He believed it an attempt to lure him further. Positively nauseating!”

  “Do not remind me… just promise that you will not leave us alone for even a minute!”

  Mary laughed, but agreed. Much to her own disgust, she had to admit to having entertained the idea of marriage to the very same Mr. Collins. However, after suffering less than a week of his presence, she soon realized the folly of such a match. Death was preferable to that form of misery. However, being penniless, she was not in the same situation as Miss Georgiana Darcy. Even now, only the charity of her elder sister
s kept Mary from eventual desperate acts.

  “Well, I suppose I am as good as can be. Shall we go below and await the dragon?”

  “More like a troll.”

  *****

  With the absence of Darcy and Elizabeth, Edwin Stokes took his responsibilities as footman and security very seriously. Having never replaced the vacant position of butler when old Higgins passed on, Pemberley lacked a strong male presence in the servant’s realm. Mrs. Reynolds, efficient as ever, had not approached the Darcys to consider hiring new staff. For despite the master’s recent marriage, full scale entertaining had yet to take place. At one time, Edwin had aspired to become butler of Pemberley, but now, far greater dreams possessed him. He would not be a servant to others for the rest of his days. While he held the greatest respect for the Darcys it was his feelings for Georgiana that now drove him down a different path. A young lady of her station could never consider a footman for anything but what he could fetch and carry. Nor could she set her sights on a lowly engineer’s apprentice. But, if a man could somehow acquire an education… well, that was a different matter entirely. Weren’t novels filled with tales of the lady of the house falling in love with the tutor? Mr. Darcy had promised that if… no… when, they won the prize at the competition, it would be split equally between them. Such a sum would surely pay for the schooling he desired. Only then, would he be something other than a servant… and possibly someone worth of Miss Georgiana Darcy.

  Edwin pondered this magical future as he polished the brass fittings of the hall tree, listening for the arrival of a carriage or rider. He knew that Henry Wainright was expected and dreaded his arrival. The man was insufferable and not worthy of the title he inherited, but Edwin would not embarrass the Darcy’s by disrespectful behavior. So, it was with perfect formality that he met the man he considered his greatest rival sometime later, bowing appropriately as he took the reins so carelessly tossed in his direction.

  “My horse requires a measure of oats. And see if you can get the mud off my cape. There’s a good chap.”

  Edwin did not reply, but took the item of clothing with his free hand, repressing the desire to fling it back in the man’s face. Fortunately, Henry did not require anyone to direct him to the small salon, leaving Edwin to fume alone.

  “I don’t see how she can stand him!” he snapped to the horse, who as if in agreement, nuzzled his shoulder.

  “At least I don’t have to go home with him… you poor thing.”

  Edwin Stokes took his time caring for the horse, waving away the groom as he fed and curried the young stallion. The farther away he was from Henry Wainright the better, even if it meant neglecting his regular duties as he wandered aimlessly about the servants quarters. As a result, it was nearly two hours later when he returned. The hall, dark and quiet in the early evening, was filled with shadows that played tricks upon the eyes. No sound came from the parlor normally used for formal visitors. Poking his head in the open door, he noticed empty plates and a cold teapot, but no sign of Georgiana, Miss Bennet or Henry Wainright. Had something happened to send him home? Filled with happy possibilities, Edwin began to collect the remains on the tea cart when he heard a loud metallic sound echoing from below the floorboards. This chamber, possessed an adjoining door to the library, and was directly atop the cellar workshop. Had the young ladies decided to continue working alone? Mr. Trevithick, still recovering from his injuries, now served as an advisor only until he regained full use of his hands. The engineer had already spent some hours at Pemberley that day and had returned home to rest. He had cautioned them all against working alone, receiving everyone’s solemn promise to be careful. So, what had caused that noise? Entering the library, Edwin scanned the empty chamber for any sign of life, making a complete turn about the room, but it was dark and quiet. It was only when passing the hidden door that he heard the metallic sound once again. Someone was below… someone that did not belong there.

  ~36~

  Henry Wainright yanked off his neck cloth and wadded the length of silk into his pocket. There it rested against a matching handkerchief, equally hidden. He had thought himself impressively handsome that afternoon, but instead, his choice of attire had been the subject of great amusement. What had he been thinking when he had proposed to Georgiana? That girl was nothing but a spoiled brat, with the manners of a goat. Yet, he had borne their criticisms like a fawning idiot. Now, as he strode quickly towards the hall, a multitude of alternatives to marriage coursed through his mind, only to be rejected. He needed money badly. If marriage to Georgiana was not possible, he must find another solution. Entering the hall, he found it vacant and dark as a tomb. Where was that stupid footman? Edward? Edgar? The man always seemed to be lurking about when he was not wanted, and now, that Henry was in need of his mount, no where to be found. Pausing in his steps, Henry contemplated returning to the salon, but that would only embarrass him further. Seeing the library door ajar, he slipped inside just as Georgiana and Mary Bennet exited the adjoining chamber.

  “Did you see his face? I thought he would be apoplectic when you suggested that he was putting on weight. Only you can make that sound attractive Georgiana!”

  “I did my best, but it did not seem to permeate his thick skull. You may be right; I will have to be terribly blunt and just tell Henry that my decision is no. I would rather marry one of Aunt Catherine’s terriers.”

  “Well, I hope it does not come to that, surely there is someone out there that will love you dearly, and not your fortune.”

  Georgiana did not reply, but Mary noticed how her gaze traveled to the vacant chair next to the great double entry doors. So… someone HAD caught the heart of Miss Darcy of Pemberley, but it happened to be the footman. An impossible and awkward situation, and one for which Mary had no solution. Instead, she held her opinions private, and suggested they take some much-needed air.

  “I have had quite enough of the indoors, a nice long walk will do us both a world of good. What say you?”

  “That is just the ticket! The smell of Henry’s cologne was making me ill.”

  Henry felt as if his breath had been held and exhaled heavily once the ladies’ footsteps echoed away. Smiling, he perused the room at his leisure, examining the odd area behind Darcy’s desk as the sting of his rejection wore away. It was clearly some type of opening, but how was it accessed? No sign of any sort of lever was obvious. He tried pressing various points along the seam, feeling the wall give slightly under his fingertips, but to no avail. After nearly fifteen minutes of trying, he was ready to give up and enter the underground chamber from its exterior door behind the shrubbery. But, with the ladies out of doors, the risk was too great. Leaning against the open bookshelf, Henry idly toyed with the variety of objects that lay on the polished wood, moving aside a small oil lamp before squinting at a small alcove that seemed strangely out of place. Inside it, stood a solitary book, Da Vinci’s Fundamentals of Engineering. Reaching forward, his fingers wrapped around the volume, but it felt oddly stiff and would not easily slide from the shelf. Pulling slightly, he heard wood scrape next to him as the panel bearing the restored portrait of some long-dead Darcy swung open. The book had been false, designed to hide the access below.

  “Genius idea! Now I can see what you all are about!” he whispered. Taking the lamp, Henry struck a match to the wick and descended in to darkness. Running a hand along the wall for guidance, he was soon inside the great cavernous room. Raising the lamp for a better view, Henry spied the gas line running the length of the chamber and soon the workshop was flooded with light, revealing the Darcy steam carriage. Henry Wainright could not believe his eyes as he walked slowly around the vehicle, examining various components in detail, oblivious to all but his own interest.

  “This is positively magnificent! Of course, I would have done it slightly differently, and much better. Those steam lines… all wrong! And that passenger car…positively hideous. But the overall design! This is worth a fortune!” he exclaimed as he peered closel
y at the intricate engine works. It was indeed a wonder, but needed improvements. With the impossibility of removing the contraption to his own workshop, Henry began to search the room for any sign of structural drawings.

  “Surely there are blueprints? Only a fool would not do a complete set of drawings… but then again, the Darcy’s are no match for my prowess!”

  After a few minutes of fruitless search, Henry spied a lady’s sketchbook lying abandoned upon a stuffed chair. Flipping through the pages, his arrogant countenance turned to elation with the discovery.