by Katie Bright
“So, tell me, what are you doing these days?” Darcy asked.
“I’m embarrassed to say that I’m still working for my uncle in Meryton,” she replied.
“I thought you said it was temporary until you decided what to do.”
“It was, but I never decided and now I’m part of the office furniture.”
“That you could never be, surely.”
“Well I feel like it,” she replied. “And you’ve become a hipster I see.”
“A hipster?” he said.
“The beard and slippers,” she smiled as he touched his face. “I like it, at least it seems like our godchildren have good taste in footwear.”
“I have been a little distracted of late,” he replied.
“You must be, I think you’ve got at least six months’ worth of mail on your mantlepiece.”
“It’s probably closer to a year or more actually. I don’t like opening letters, they are generally bad news.”
“But how will you know unless you open them?” she asked as she got to her feet and went over to the fireplace and picked up a pile of letters. “See this one looks like a Christmas card, that would have been good.”
“Nonsense, they are usually filled with some kind of newsletter that’s bragging about how someone’s gotten married or started a new business or even a new life.”
“Ah, but that is where you’re wrong. Sometimes they contain gift cards because people are too lazy to pick you out a bad gift,” she teased him. “Or don’t you open gifts either?”
“No, Mrs Reynolds always opens them,” he half smiled.
“I know what this one was,” she said holding up an ivory envelope in her hand. “Caroline Bingley’s wedding invitation.”
“Yes, I know. Did you go?” he asked.
“I did, although I think I only got invited because of Charles’ mother. I expected to see you there.”
“I was thinking of going. I promised Georgiana, but…”
“Something came up at the last minute,” she suggested.
He looked into the fire and settled his empty glass on the table beside him.
“That’s the trouble Elizabeth,” he said looking up at her. “Nothing came up to stop me from going. I just didn’t want to go. The thought of being amongst all those people, all asking questions I didn’t want to answer, in the end, persuaded me to stay at home.”
Elizabeth placed the letters back down on the mantlepiece and sat down on the floor in front of him. She looked up at him as the fire’s amber flicker was reflected in his brown eyes.
“What happened?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“We can go all around the houses Darcy, and you can keep your stiff upper lip. But the old saying is ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’.”
“You saw Georgiana at the wedding,” he realised.
“I did.”
“So that’s why you’re here,” he said sitting back and putting as much distance between them as he could.
“I’m not going to lie to you Darcy,” she replied.
But he turned away to face the fire.
“William, look at me.”
He reluctantly glanced back at her.
“So perhaps I haven’t been the attentive friend that I should have been over the past few years. Well, I’m sorry, life happens to us all. But I’m here now. Please, tell me what I can do to help?” she asked.
“Nothing can be done. Pemberley’s costs were climbing, fewer and fewer young people from Lambton want to work on the estate. Most of the other workers have retired, even Mr and Mrs Reynolds have. I think they just come in every day to make sure I’m still alive.”
“Darcy, you wouldn’t?” Elizabeth said in shock.
“No, of course not,” he half smiled to reassure her. “The truth is the shares in Tumble and Bales were the last money to give the impression that Pemberley was still afloat. Now…well…we’re sinking.”
“But there has to be a way. Couldn’t you open it to the public?”
“Oh yes, but even that takes money we haven’t got. I know I’m only putting off the inevitable really. But in the end, Pemberley will have to be sold.”
“You’d sell Pemberley?”
“I’d have no choice. Amongst those envelopes up there is an offer from the National Trust and another from English Heritage. There’s also one from someone who wants to turn it into a health spa and another from the agent of some actor or pop star or some celebrity or other. In fact, it might be a footballer, they seem to have all the money now.”
“So, you can’t see any other way?” she asked.
“Not really. Eventually, Pemberley will be sold. But I suppose I’m giving myself a false sense of hope. It’s not as if some guardian angel will help me save this old house, not when there are so many smaller roofs that need saving. I’m no fool Elizabeth. The Darcys have had their time in Pemberley. I just never thought I’d be the one to leave.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Chapter Ten
Good Morning
Elizabeth woke in a soft warm bed instead of the sofa she was meant to sleep on. First light was coming in through the gap in the curtains, pouring ice blue light on the wall opposite the bed. The last thing she remembered was talking to Darcy whilst she stretched her legs out on his sofa. She must have fallen asleep. The combination of the drive up, Mrs Reynold’s meal and a few glasses of port in front of a warm fire were probably to blame.
As she pulled back the quilt, she noticed that only her slippers had been removed. A gentleman as always. They now sat next to the bed on the floor where Darcy had no doubt put them. Had he really carried her to bed like some kind of Prince Charming, sacrificing his comfort for hers?
She sat up and slipped on her slippers and went into the sitting room where Darcy was asleep on the sofa. He was covered in a soft woollen blanket that didn’t quite cover his toes. The embers of the fire glowed gently. Elizabeth took a piece of wood from the scuttle next to the fire and placed it on the embers, watching them come back to life. She placed on another and gently poked the fire stirring the flames until they started to feed on the new fuel.
Looking at the photos around the fireplace, she was fascinated to see the various Darcys of the past and present. Amongst the Victorian and Edwardian photos of the Darcy’s family and friends, were photos of the servants and employees hanging there with just as much affection. Next to a photo of Darcy as a small boy, was the wedding photo of Mr and Mrs Reynolds, he looking every inch the dapper gent and she the blushing bride. As her gaze passed over photos of Jane and Charles’ wedding and their children’s christenings, it stopped on the photo of herself.
It was taken the year after Jane and Charles had gotten married. They had invited her to come up with them just after Easter. Darcy and Georgiana had been pleased to see them all. They had made a merry party just the five of them and seemed to fill the big old house. Elizabeth and Jane had grown to see Georgiana as another sister, which seemed to please Darcy. Even when Caroline had turned up and invited herself to stay, her endless talk of her recent skiing trips did not dampen the atmosphere.
One morning Elizabeth had gone out walking in the grounds on her own, stopping on the other side of the lake to look at Pemberley. She hadn’t noticed Darcy, her mind was elsewhere, thinking on what might have been. Even now in the photograph, she could see the wistful expression on her face. He had been out photographing the grounds for his record of Pemberley throughout the seasons when he took the photo of her quite by surprise.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he had said.
“I didn’t see you there,” she had replied. “I came out for a walk.”
“Yes, Pemberley is always beautiful in the spring. Everything is waking from its slumber. Have you seen the Bluebell Walk?”
“No.”
“I’ll have to show you. They carpet the floor of the woodland in hues of blue and purple, whilst in the trees above there is pink blossom an
d catkins.”
“It sounds beautiful,” she smiled.
“It is. I could show you all the secret places of Pemberley. They change throughout the seasons. There is the flower meadow in the summer where the grasses and flowers grow waist high. In the autumn there is the grotto where the morning mist gathers in the valley below, making you think you are above the clouds. And in the winter, when the snow falls…”
“Yes?”
“Elizabeth, I must ask you… if your…”
Then they had been interrupted. Georgiana had arranged for them all to go horse riding and Caroline had offered to deliver the errand. They were never alone like that again. Not until last night, and whatever he had wanted to ask her in the past seemed to have now slipped his mind. Elizabeth took one last look at Darcy asleep on the sofa, then left the sitting room and went to get ready for the day.
Darcy was still asleep when she took the letters from his mantlepiece. She had started to work on a plan whilst she was brushing her teeth. She had come here to rescue Darcy and it seemed that to truly rescue him she had to rescue Pemberley too. Well if that was the only way, then so be it.
She lit the fire in the kitchen and filled the kettle on the Aga. To get through all these letters would take coffee and biscuits, both of which were in plentiful supply. She had found the files on Pemberley’s finances in the writing desk and now she added them to the pile to sort out. As the kettle came to the boil, she poured the water into the large mug and added milk and sugar, then settled down to organise everything.
Darcy had been right about the offers from the various trusts and heritage groups. Some of them offered him living accommodation somewhere on the estate. But she couldn’t see him want to stay there once Pemberley was sold. The company who wanted to set up a health spa also wanted to sell the parkland up into various lots. There was even a suggestion of developing a large area as a new village filled with executive homes inside a gated community. No wonder he had stopped opening the envelopes.
Two hours later she had organised the post into several small piles, Christmas cards and any general greetings were in one pile, whilst junk mail was in another. Invitations were in another as were offers of purchase. A smaller pile of postcards and letters sat next to a larger pile of bills and finally a pile for immediate attention which consisted of letters from his solicitor and accountant.
“You know you could get arrested for opening her Majesty's mail,” Darcy said as he stood at the end of the table.
“And you could get arrested for not paying your tax bill,” she said holding up the letter in her hand.
He had shaved, and with even that one small gesture she could see Darcy coming back to her slowly. He took the bill from her hand and nodded.
“That one is paid, Georgiana does it all online now,” he said handing it back before he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Online, does that mean you have a computer somewhere?” she asked.
“A laptop, not that it is any good, we haven’t got the internet.”
“Darcy, you do realise what century you are living in?”
“I do, but tell that to my bank balance. Do you know how much it would cost to run cables up to the house? It was a choice between fixing the roof or being able to surf the web and I chose to keep the rain out.”
He sat down at the table and started to look at the various greeting cards with a sad smile.
“So, Miss Bennet, you’ve come to organise me,” he said.
“Did you think I had come to ravish your body?” she asked.
“Well I might have got my hopes up for a while there,” he grinned.
“It’s good to see you smile.”
“There hasn’t been a reason in a long time.”
“Well I have five more reasons,” she said handing him the gift cards she had found. “See, I told you.”
“So, I can treat myself to something from Harrods, Selfridges, Liberty, Fortnum and Mason or Hamleys. Hold on Hamleys is a toyshop.”
“Ah, I think I can explain that one. Louisa’s husband sent out the presents last year because she had the flu. That explains why Henry and Alice got a subscription to Country Life for Christmas.”
“That sounds like Hurst. Here treat yourself to something,” he said offering her a card. “You can have anything except Hamleys and Fortnum and Mason. Henry and Alice can spend that one on toys and Mrs Reynolds is always partial to a hamper.”
“I don’t need a gift.”
“But you will have one,” he said fanning the cards out in his hand.
“Alright, I’ll take the Liberty one.”
“And do you want it?”
“What?” she asked.
“Liberty?”
“I don’t think anyone is truly free. I think everyone is tied to someone else, to family and friends. True freedom I think is choosing who you are tied to.”
The door opened to the kitchen bringing in cold air as well as Mr and Mrs Reynolds.
“Well, it’s stopped snowing,” Mrs Reynolds said.
“How is the path holding up?” Darcy asked as he got up from his seat.
“Oh, nothing a shovel won’t clear.”
“Look what I found,” Mr Reynolds said as he carried a large hessian sack in his arms.
“Humour him, he was out before breakfast looking for them and there is another bag of them still out there,” Mrs Reynolds added.
“Looking for what?” Darcy asked.
“Brushes,” Mr Reynolds replied.
“Brushes?”
“For cleaning the chimney. I knew we had a set of them somewhere.”
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged looks.
“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh yes, my grandad was a sweep since he was a lad. Course they used to climb up them in his day, but he knew how to handle a set of brushes too.”
“Aye, well mind you cover up the furniture before you start in there,” Mrs Reynolds warned him.
“I’ve got them ready. Now I won’t be a minute,” Mr Reynolds said before he disappeared into the housekeeper’s room.
Elizabeth got up from the table.
“Are you sure he needs to go to all the fuss?” she asked.
“Oh, we won’t hear the end of it if we don’t let him,” Mrs Reynolds replied. “Mind you, I hope he’s got enough extenders to reach all the way.”
“He should have. I could go up on the roof to check if the brush comes out,” Darcy added.
“Is it safe up there?” Elizabeth asked.
“The roof is sound. It was the last thing I could afford to repair. Would you like to come up? You can see most of the park from up there?”
“I’d love to,” she smiled.
“Well, you’re not going up there until you’ve both had breakfast. And biscuits and coffee don’t count,” Mrs Reynolds said. “I’ve seen you’ve been busy,” she nodded to the table.
“Oh, do you want me to clear it up?” Elizabeth asked her.
“No, the table is big enough. We’ll use the other end. Now, what will it be, porridge, cereal, toast or a full English?”
“I’ll just have some toast,” Darcy replied.
“You’ll turn into a piece of toast one of these days. What about a nice poached egg on top of it?”
“Make it two,” Elizabeth replied.
Darcy looked at her as she started to help Mrs Reynolds.
“You’re forgetting someone has to shovel the snow from the path,” she smiled.
“Ah, I’ll get the shovel.”
“You’ll eat first,” Mrs Reynolds said as Mr Reynolds came back into the kitchen.
He was acting strangely, avoiding the gaze of both Elizabeth and Darcy. Picking up a tea towel he started to dry up a cup.
“Now Bernard Reynolds, what is wrong with you?”
“Nothing Judith, nothing at all except,” he said lowering his voice, but he could still easily be heard by all. “That sofa doesn’t l
ook like it’s been slept on.”
“Well perhaps she made it when she got up,” his wife replied.
“There was no nightie under the pillow either.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t wear one,” she grinned as her husband blushed red. “Bernard Reynolds, are you telling me you went looking for Miss Elizabeth’s nightie? Shame on you.”
“I didn’t go looking. I just didn’t want it to get all sooty.”
“Miss Bennet slept in my bed last night,” Darcy started to explain.
“Really it’s none of my business,” he replied.
“Whilst I slept on my sofa,” Darcy continued.
“Oh, I see.”
“Perhaps you should get the other set of extenders Mr Reynolds, to spare your blushes and mine,” Darcy smiled. “And I’ll get that path cleared before your mind wanders back to nighties.”
“Actually, I wear pyjamas,” Elizabeth remarked.
“Dually noted,” Darcy smiled as he and Mr Reynolds went outside.
Elizabeth came to stand by Mrs Reynolds.
“How long do you think they will be?” she asked.
“Oh, not that long I suspect,” Mrs Reynolds replied.
“Now do you want me to make a start on the toast or the eggs?”
“The toast, I think. You’ll find the bread in the bread bin over there,” she pointed. “The knife should be in the middle drawer of the dresser.”
“Ok,” Elizabeth replied as she went over to the large enamel bread bin and pulled out one of Mrs Reynolds homemade loaves.
“Miss Elizabeth.”
“Yes?”
“You have come here to help William, haven’t you?”
“In any way I can,” she half smiled.
“Bless you child,” Mrs Reynolds said as she dabbed her eyes with the corner of the tea towel. “Miss Georgiana said you’d help bring him out of himself. Look at him now,” she said as she looked out of the window where Darcy was clearing the path. “He’s started to shave again.”
“Georgiana?” Elizabeth queried as she watched him too.
“Oh yes, she said you’d come. She said, if anyone could save him, it would be you.”
