Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  Anne and Elizabeth were sitting together, each working on some intricate piece of embroidery. Actually, Elizabeth was working on an intricate piece, she had been fond of needlework for as long as Frederick had known her, but Anne had picked up the craft only recently, most likely because she saw

  Elizabeth enjoying it so much. Anne's work was improving rapidly, while not even approaching Elizabeth's accomplishments as yet Anne had the patience and the precision required for the painstaking job of placing stitch after stitch of coloured silk where it should be, and not even a hair's breadth to either side.

  'Anne, my dear?' Frederick queried Anne, making sure his voice expressed his intention of teasing his wife with her newly found pastime.

  As she looked up at him, eyes sparkling at his endearment, he addressed her,

  'We have not been married a full month and already you are stuck inside the house doing needlework. I thought your main reason for accepting my hand was to avoid such a fate?'

  His beautiful wife and Elizabeth both laughed heartily, Anne had indeed used needlework as an analogy for the suppression of genteel ladies by their husbands, and now she was doing it voluntarily.

  'You are so right, my dear Frederick,' Anne answered. 'I never knew how much fun needlework could be, now I'm kind of sorry I didn't marry Lieutenant Talbot, then I could have stayed inside instead of having to go out in this weather. Do you know Elizabeth actually suggested taking a long ramble through the woods after greeting the Prince of Wales? These people are mad, Frederick!'

  She rolled her eyes, and Elizabeth observed, 'I'm so sorry, Anne, for inadvertently robbing you of your freedom by passing on my addiction to needlework. I should have been more careful stitching in your presence.

  Fortunately Frederick had secured your hand before I subverted you, or you'd be Mrs Talbot and carrying the Lieutenant's child by now.'

  Anne didn't even look horrified at the idea.

  'I have to admit I love knitting and crocheting little socks and jumpers, and I'm so glad you taught me how to sew as well as embroider so I can make my own baby's little dresses when my time comes.'

  That didn't even sound as if spoken in jest, was Anne eager to have a baby?

  She and Nick had had a little accident on the morning of their wedding, and not enough time had passed as of yet to know whether their failure to use Nick's protections would have any consequences. But like Georgiana, she should not go on a trip to the continent carrying a child, except Anne was twenty-five, not seventeen. She might be longing for a child now she had a man she loved and her future was secured. Frankly, Frederick wouldn't mind having a real family himself, even if he wouldn't actually be the baby's father.

  Now Anne laughed even harder.

  'You didn't think I really want a baby already, did you? I like embroidery because it is something truly beautiful that I can create all by myself. I never had the energy to actually make something from almost nothing, and Elizabeth showed me a lady's pastime can be beautiful instead of a hideous and useless waste of materials. I can talk and work, or listen to music and work, and then I'll put it away and ride a horse, or play billiards, or draw maps, or maybe even shoot a gun or catch fish. I can do whatever I like, and I think I will enjoy that for a year or maybe two. And then I'll give you an heir, Frederick, and enjoy giving life to a whole new human being. If it's a boy, can we name him Lewis, for my father? I loved him so much, I'd like his memory to live on.'

  Anne had turned a lot more serious, though she was not very much affected but rather thoughtful.

  'Of course we can, my love. I think little Lewis will be the most loved boy in the world, with three fathers and you as his mother. And if she is a girl, we'll find a suitable name, and prepare her for her role as heiress. She will have both our estates, and will be a lady to be reckoned with.

  But now I'd love to go out in the rain in a few hours, I need to breathe fresh air at least once a day to be truly alive, sleet or storm notwithstanding.'

  And then the door opened and Darcy's butler calmly announced His Highness, the Prince of Wales. Everyone got up to greet their future king, Frederick seeking out his lovely wife's side, proud to be standing next to such a beautiful woman as her husband, even if their marriage was not one of love.

  Not one of romantic love, for he did love Anne, and she loved him, in many other ways.

  Prince George did not seem particularly happy to be introduced with his title, though he accepted it with something much like resignation. He was not dressed as befitted a prince, but more like a gentleman going on a hunting trip without his valet, and he was not planning to behave like a prince either, that became clear straight away. For instead of greeting the party in order of their rank, as one would have expected, Prince George started with its lowest-ranked member, Eric.

  'Mr Fielding, I beg your forgiveness for bothering you during your country seclusion. Your compositions have haunted my dreams as well as my waking hours, I could not stand another season without hearing them again. My Maria forbade me to send for you, said you needed your repose or risked

  losing your genius, so I decided to come to you, all alone, and throw myself on your mercy.'

  Eric shook his hand in the spirit in which it was offered, then bowed anyway to show his respect. Frederick knew he had to be beaming with pride over his friend's tact and refinement, many a gentleman could use his manners as an excellent example. After his bow, Eric spoke with humour.

  'Your Highness, no excuses are necessary, for I will shamelessly put your broad experience and faultless taste to my own good use. I have several new works I'd like to play for you, and I am looking forward to your expert opinion on them. And of course as reward I will play the works you crave to hear, as many times as we can fit into your stay here.'

  'You are the soul of courtesy, Mr Fielding, I cannot wait to hear you play.'

  Naturally, he then took Georgiana's hand and kissed it, addressing her familiarly and expressing a hope to hear her play, too. And Georgiana also showed her future king the respect that was his due, making Frederick very happy.

  Of course Prince George should have greeted Darcy first, as his host and the highest ranking gentleman present, but they had met at the door and anyway, Darcy didn't seem insulted at Prince George's gesture towards Eric. But now the Prince showed he had at least some tact for he greeted Darcy instead of turning towards Elizabeth first, though Frederick could see he wanted to, he indeed admired her, poor Darcy. Although, poor, he was stunningly handsome and incredibly wealthy, and his character was beyond reproach.

  What competition was an almost-forty-year-old, chubby womaniser who was married to a hag and routinely cheated on her, and even on his current mistress? Elizabeth didn't care about status or even more wealth, she had resisted this man's advances before and on his own turf, when he had been dressed to perfection and could ply her with Madeira wine and more importantly, exotic confectioneries made of chocolate and bergamot. Right now, he appeared mostly to be a true devotee to Fielding's music, not an admirer of Mrs Darcy's charms.

  But when Prince George turned towards Elizabeth, Frederick had to revise that opinion, for the plainly dressed Heir Presumptive practically glowed with admiration. Or was it the heat of the room on his florid face? He had been out in the freezing cold for days, after all. Darcy was not quite ready to murder him, though he seemed distracted, as if forcing himself to ignore the whole scene, which was probably the wisest course, since Elizabeth was propriety

  itself.

  'Mrs Darcy, I am so glad to see you again, and in such propitious circumstances. Now please tell me for I have been dying to find out: how is your beautiful hunter, did you ride him already? And have you taken your first obstacles? And I hardly dare ask, but I am going to anyway for I cannot bear not knowing: have you used your rifle yet, your Christmas present?'

  This was a devilishly smart man, and if he could just keep it in his pants, as Nick would say, he would be the best king ever, or at least in a l
ong, long time. For those questions all related to gifts that proved Mr Darcy's devotion to his wife, and by referring to them he practically promised Darcy to respect such deep feelings. Elizabeth caught on perfectly, of course. Her father would have given his right arm to be here, to witness his daughter matching wits with the Prince of Wales.

  'You are indeed a charmer, Your Highness! You couldn't have found a subject on which I had more to say, or more praise to bestow. Barley, my horse is called Barley because he is as sweet and brown as barley sweets, is just perfect. He is stunningly handsome, faster on the long run than any horse except maybe Fitzwilliam's thoroughbreds, he will jump any obstacle I ask him to, and yet he is as gentle as a dove and minds my every word or move.

  Can you believe that? I have had him for but a month and it is like we have been together for years.'

  'You have indeed already taken obstacles? I salute your bravery, Mrs Darcy, and your husband's, too. To watch someone he loves so much riding as if she is an amazon.'

  'You are so right. When Fitzwilliam rode a young, nervous hunter I was afraid he'd come to harm. But nothing happened, and Barley would never hurt me.'

  'So you've spent your time here riding, that is great. The shooting season won't start for ever so long, yet, there will be plenty of time to practise handling your rifle.'

  Elizabeth laughed heartily and observed, 'We have been enjoying ourselves scandalously, Your Highness, for while you were hard at work in our nation's capital, we have spent the whole month just enjoying ourselves, riding, rambling, fishing, and indeed shooting. We've practised on vermin, hares, foxes, birds of prey, magpies and crows. I wished to join a barn hunt, but Fitzwilliam said that was where he drew the line. No ladies at a barn hunt.

  Not for the killing, you see, but for the goings-on. He doesn't mind providing

  his tenants with a keg of ale when they work together to destroy vermin, but afterwards... Have you ever been to a barn hunt?'

  Elizabeth, Elizabeth, she was truly her father's daughter, afraid of nothing, respectful of nothing. Imagine the Prince of Wales at a barn hunt, they were the country equivalent of the parties Frederick used to organise for his friends. Prince George would love a barn hunt.

  'I cannot say that I have, no. I can imagine what it is but not why such an event would be unsuitable for ladies, maybe you could elaborate?'

  'Well, only from what I have been told. Twenty-odd farmers, farm hands and the local land owner gather at one of their barns or granaries. Some bring terriers or ferrets, and release them to chase out the rats. Everybody else shoots rats until there are none left alive. The youngest farm hands dispose of the dead rats while everybody else breaks open a keg to celebrate another successful hunt. Next time they gather at a different barn and rid it of vermin for years to come.'

  'I cannot see much harm in that, as long as one doesn't accidentally shoot a ferret, a terrier or one of the other gunmen it sounds like great practise.'

  She had him, he really didn't know.

  'Ah, but I've left out one thing: the women. You see, during a barn hunt the men work as a team, and rank no longer applies for the duration of the hunt.

  And the local women and girls apparently like to watch the whole spectacle, and claim their share of the brew. They have been known to become free with their favours, and not just towards the other tenants. Which is why Fitzwilliam generally sends the keg with his hunt master or stable master and refrains from attending the occasions himself.'

  Prince George slapped his thighs in mirth and gasped, 'Mrs Darcy, I cannot help it, I adore you. And though I can imagine why you'd want to test your mettle in this way, I cannot disagree with your husband that a barn hunt is indeed no place for a lady. Nor for a gentleman, frankly. I'm so glad to finally be here, and to receive such a welcome. As lady of the house, would you do the honour of introducing me to your friends?'

  That was going pretty far, but it was not yet an insult worthy of a challenge to a duel of honour. And Darcy was still rather composed, a little more, actually.

  But now it was Frederick's turn to be introduced to the Prince of Wales, and he was looking forward to it, he kind of liked the fellow so far.

  Elizabeth approached Frederick first, though they had in fact come to the conclusion that Anne outranked him. Well, not anymore, according to the

  law, and since rank was as much a human construct as the law, Elizabeth would decide for herself whom to introduce first, making Frederick the logical choice since Anne was standing on Frederick's other side, partially hidden by his broad figure.

  'Your Highness, this is our good friend Mr Frederick Manners. You may have heard of him, since you have proven to read the papers.'

  'The Mr Manners indeed! Master mind of the New Year's Eve Ball, darling of the London beau monde! You have quite the reputation, my good sir! Of course I knew you were a friend of the Darcy family, my advisor argued against my coming here since you are reputed to be my father's confidant and as such a possible spy, but I decided there was nothing reprehensible about listening to superior music and to therefore take the risk. Very pleased to meet you, Mr Manners!'

  And he meant it, Frederick could see that. The man before him was just that, a man, a music lover hoping to revive the feeling a superior piece of music had stirred in him. The attitude of a prince he had left behind with his courtiers and his guards, and his rich clothes. This man was showing them more of himself than even most high nobles ever saw.

  'I am very pleased to meet you, too, Your Highness. I assure you I am neither your father's confidant, nor his spy. In fact, I don't even know him personally.

  People say I do and it suits me not to set them straight. I know several of your mother's ladies in person, one of them has meant a lot to me at a certain time of my life when I needed some guidance. Nothing more, so please feel free to enjoy any entertainment Pemberley has to offer without fear of it getting back to anyone.

  And now, Your Highness, I am very proud to introduce you to my lady wife of almost four weeks, Mrs Anne Manners, née De Bourgh.'

  Apparently this was Anne's cue, she had indeed been hiding behind him and now stepped forward to meet the Prince of Wales' eyes. And Frederick instantly understood some of Darcy's feelings, for the look in Prince George's eyes was one of stunned admiration, and the slick ladies' man stood dumb for more seconds than mere role playing could account for. This was real.

  Anne's kind and gentle voice broke the silence, despite the rank of her collocutor. She also offered him her hand, as if for him to kiss it.

  'I am very pleased to meet you, Your Highness.'

  Nothing more, that would have been unforgivably rude, whilst this was just covering up for a moment of weakness, as men were wont to do for one

  another. Anne was already getting used to being one of the boys. The Prince took her hand and kissed it with feeling, he was truly struck with Anne's beauty and presence, and while Frederick did not suffer from jealousy over this himself, he feared for Nick as he feared for Darcy. Oh all right, why fool himself? He didn't like another man drooling over his wife, not at all.

  'Mrs Manners, I did read about your engagement, and I read the descriptions of your dress, and your poise, and your beauty. But mere descriptions cannot do justice to the sweet reality, your beauty is beyond this world.'

  While most ladies would be thrilled to hear such words, Frederick knew Anne still thought of herself as the thin, tired girl she'd seen in the mirror for the past ten years, and though she didn't show her discomfort he knew it would be there and she would not fall for flattery. But the Prince still had intelligent conversation and a true love for the arts in his arsenal of attractions. Well, Frederick had told Anne she would be free do do as pleased her in their marriage and he was not going to go back on his promise. That was between Anne and Nick.

  'Thank you, Your Highness. Didn't the paper also mention the love between my husband and myself, even when we were merely engaged?'

  Someone was taking cues
from Elizabeth! And it worked, for Prince George looked chastised and said with a genuine smile, 'It did most eloquently, and I have to admit I also read Mr Goodfellow's account of your very private wedding. Some newspapers wrote that had to be false information, Mr Manners would never get married without throwing the best party of all times, but I know Mr Goodfellow is a friend of the family. For the Bachelor of Bachelors to marry in private he must be very much in love, and you are indeed a charming couple. Mr Manners, you married a veritable jewel, beautiful and smart as well. Rumours say you have the same vice as I, but I hope they were as faulty as those making you my father's lackey.'

  Don't worry, Prince George, Frederick thought. He would make Anne happy, and she'd never lack for anything in her life, especially not love. Of course he couldn't say that out loud, but he would tell him part of the truth.

  'I guess I do have a vice, but not the one the papers mention. That is also a thing I let them believe because I could not be bothered to defend myself against it. Instead I use it to my advantage. But I assure you that Mrs Manners knew me much better than any reporter before she agreed to marry me.'

  'And who says I don't have my own vice, Your Highness? I suppose reporters

  like to believe that ladies from a certain class, or maybe women in general, are incapable of impropriety. So they haven't made one up for me. But that they don't want to see it doesn't mean it isn't there.'

  Cheeky Anne, and so smart. Diverting the Prince's attention to herself so Darcy wouldn't have to be jealous. Elizabeth would give her a medal. And hopefully a warning to keep Nick informed, for the servants had come in to bring tea and they would hear things and talk, maybe not to outsiders, but certainly among themselves.

  Now deadly serious, Prince George replied, 'You are so right, Mrs Manners, I'd say ladies are as capable of vice and sin as any gentleman, though if they are caught their punishment is much more severe. And I do believe that is because both women and men are unwilling to accept that a woman has the same basic drives as a man, despite both being in essence children of nature, not higher forms of life.'