Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  Looking at the faces around her she could see Darcy and Elizabeth worried, of course they were, with their relatives and friends planning what might turn out to be a rather dangerous undertaking. Eric and Georgiana were less disappointed than she expected, they had counted on hearing bad news, maybe the prince had warned them earlier. Of course he had presented a very tempting alternative already. Nick, who was present at Frederick's request since, 'A guard needed to know what he was up against before agreeing to take the job,' didn't look very impressed at all, he probably didn't mind where they stayed as long as he got to be with Anne at night and maybe a part of the day. They'd had such a good time that afternoon, he was so sweet and so....

  manly.

  The only ones showing the slightest sign of regret were Frederick and Simon, they had wanted to go on a Grand Tour to be together as two gentlemen instead of as master and servant. Well, they could always dress like common tradesmen and take a trip north, no-one would wonder who they were then.

  Men travelled together all the time, even shared rooms to save money, only the well-known Mr Manners would attract attention and only close to London. If he went to Newcastle, to the guest house where Elizabeth and Darcy had been staying earlier in the year, not a single question would be raised about the identity of two befriended merchants. People like mother didn't use an equipage because they actually needed all those attendants, they went accompanied by a bevy of liveried servants to make sure everyone knew who they were. It was much easier to do the opposite and disappear for a few weeks.

  After about twenty minutes of last year's battles of the Russian, Austrian and British alliance against France, Anne could no longer keep up with the names of German cities, city states, rivers, mountains and local kinglets, nor with the Swiss, Italian and other equivalents. Frederick, Eric and surprisingly, Nick, were still listening as if they knew what Prince George was talking about, and Darcy was making as impressive an effort. The rest were obviously trying to come to terms with the knowledge that France was a lot more dangerous than they had been led to believe. Prince George feared they might even threaten Britain itself.

  'Our navy cannot be rivalled. Still, if the French gain too many new colonies they will soon be unstoppable, even at sea. France is a huge country, and though they say its people have taken the power, in fact a few very ambitious men are in control. Ambitious but also competent, which its kings never used to be. They have all the officers they need since, again, they only look at competence, not birth. And no insubordinate rabble as privates either, but every younger son out to improve his country and his own life by bringing the illusion of freedom to ever more people. Our army will have to change, too, or we will surely perish.'

  'How do you know all this, Your Highness, and why don't we?' Anne asked, expecting to get a vague reply.

  'I can see you thinking, Mrs Manners, the Prince of Wales, that fat man who squanders our taxes on Madeira wine, married women and Dutch masters?

  How can he know what we don't? If it's so serious why doesn't he do something? I'll tell you. A friend of mine is very active in Parliament, and he insists on keeping me informed. I do not always agree with his views, for instance, he sympathises with the Revolution, which I think is destined to bring great harm to the continent and maybe even Britain. Did you know there has been an attempted landing of the French in Ireland, to gain a foothold there? This Napoleon and others like him are not merely trying to stabilise a country in turmoil, they are out for conquest and it will be our task as the most powerful nation in the world to stop them. But I do acknowledge that the common people are much more capable than most of our class give them credit for, as we will all find out when they make France more powerful than it has ever been. This friend of mine tells me what he is supposed to know as a member of Parliament. But I have no power to act, nor does my father allow me to influence him. I merely stay informed and hope the King will protect this country and the colonies depending on us. Currently his

  prime minister seems more bent on subjecting Ireland, but maybe he knows even more than I do.

  I'm afraid it's not in the interest of those who rule us to let the people know all that is going on, which may be why my friend Fox is so adamant that liberation of the people is a good thing that will make our world a better place eventually. I doubt it. I think most people are dumb in whichever layer of the populace, but what can a single man do about that, besides making the most of the life he is granted?'

  This apparently was quite a sore point for the prince, and Anne was not going to rile him up by suggesting he was really close to a position where he could indeed make a difference. Instead she thanked him for his reply to the questions she had actually asked him.

  'I think I understand, Your Highness. Though I cannot fault the people of France for taking charge of their own lives if their king was as bad as the papers say, still I prefer things remain as they are in England, and that is not just because I prefer my head attached to my body. I suppose there is much we can do to improve things for our people so they don't need to revolt. I intend to take good care of my tenants once I inherit Rosings, and as I said earlier, I intend to give them a lot more freedom than my mother does now.

  But I suppose most need some direction, to take good care of the land and their houses, and save up for when they are old or to give their children a good start in life.'

  'Your wisdom puts me to shame, Mrs Manners,' the prince said in a perfectly serious voice, but Anne suspected he was either having her on or flattering her.

  'I so want this Gothic conservatory, and I really cannot resist my wine, my chocolate and the occasional Vermeer, but I suppose I should be much more sensible myself.'

  Still Anne could not see or hear whether he was serious or making fun of her.

  Fortunately, Frederick came to her rescue by addressing Nick.

  'As born Londoner what do you think, Nick? Do you think there is any danger of a revolution in England?'

  Nick was utterly surprised, since riding himself into the picture more or less accidentally he had been planning to keep a very low profile, and only Frederick's insistence had practically forced him to be present here tonight.

  He did take the time to think, then carefully framed a respectful reply.

  'I'd say not, Mr Manners, most people I know are pretty satisfied with their

  lives. But of course as a servant in a great house even I live a privileged life with a solid roof over my head and plenty to eat. I know no truly poor people, my parents have their own tiny house which my siblings and I paid for, they did indeed work hard to save up and give us a good start, and now we are eager to return their care. But we are all in good health, and have a good position, I cannot imagine that is so for all the good people in London. Still, to incite a whole populace I suppose the majority must be dissatisfied and I think if that were so I'd have seen signs, especially in town. So I guess your head is perfectly safe where it is, Mrs Manners.'

  Nick sounded so incredibly respectful towards Anne that no-one would guess they were lovers. Simon had told Nick that Prince George was convinced they were, but after this he would start to doubt. Anne doubted herself that this was the same man who'd lain in her arms a few hours ago, after loving her so passionately that Anne would have married him instantly if she hadn't already been married to Frederick.

  'I'm glad to hear it, Nick. And I'm also very glad you are taking our coming trip seriously, since you will be our last defence against any threats.'

  'Thank you, Mrs Manners, I'm determined to do my job well.'

  She nodded at her most condescending, let the prince make something of that.

  They talked of the French and the continent for as much as another hour, then enjoyed another hour of melancholy music in the drawing-room, during which Prince George again spent most of his time by Anne's side. When it was finally time to seek out their bedrooms for the night she was tired of being on her guard for so long, and she felt a bit sorry for that. She re
ally liked Prince George and would have loved to talk with him freely, he was obviously very well informed and had much to tell anyone. She wished he could just accept the situation as it was and enjoy their company instead of putting them on the defensive with his prying.

  On Monday, Simon was almost pleased to attend to Prince George after having assisted Frederick with his dressing. On Saturday evening the prince had been rather quiet, he'd merely excused himself for letting Mr Fielding's music touch him again and told Simon again how much he liked Mrs Manners and how he hoped she'd have a chance of some happiness. Since Simon had had his say on that subject and wasn't going to admonish the man who would one day be his king, he merely mumbled the appropriate

  acknowledgements without actually saying anything.

  On Sunday morning, Simon had been in a hurry to attend to his own master and the prince before it was time to go to church, and the prince hadn't even tried to engage his borrowed valet in serious conversation. And then after church, which comprised of a really subtle sermon by Mr Eliot on the subject of letting others be, and some surprisingly good singing, Simon almost started to think Prince George had actually taken Mr Eliot's message to heart.

  He still couldn't believe Mr Darcy had actually done it, asked Mr Eliot to address the constant gossiping among the staff. Except it probably wasn't just the staff showing its worst side with the Prince of Wales honouring their master with a visit, gossiping was inherent to human nature and people in a village did their share of it. There was every reason to admonish them to remember the golden rule to 'do unto others', for who liked to be the victim of tales? Simon did think the message might have been a little too subtle for most of the people present, though Mr Eliot had described gossip well without actually using the word or pointing a finger at those who most often indulged in the spreading of tales.

  Despite its subtlety the sermon had been talked over at dinner in the servants'

  quarters, and Simon hoped in most local households as well. But he seriously doubted that someone like Pauline would have understood how the sermon concerned her, if not for Mrs Reynolds. He really had to credit the housekeeper for her efforts to improve her staff in every possible way, she often used dinner to explain serious issues in words even the thickest of the servants could understand.

  And with Prince George refraining from further inquiry into his master and mistress' private life the whole Sunday, Simon hoped he'd taken the message to heart and would adhere to it. That he had understood was more than clear, for not only was Prince George possibly the smartest person Simon knew, he had told Simon himself that if Mr Eliot was a fair representative of the British clergy, he was proud of their level of education and looked forward to becoming their head some day. Of course they both doubted that all clergymen were of Mr Eliot’s quality, but neither spoke his mind, for that would have cast a blemish on their spotless behaviour that day. Simon had merely expressed his own appreciation of the kind and upright minister, then tried to convince the prince that pantaloons were the future and breeches very definitely a thing of the past and to try one while he was still Mr Chester to the locals. For no-one had addressed him as anything but a visiting

  gentleman, though Mr Darcy received so much respect from his tenants that he might as well be a prince himself in their eyes, at least that was how it seemed to Simon.

  So, after a quiet Sunday, Simon entered the prince's bedroom in an excellent humour, and found himself welcomed as heartily as before. The prince was still in bed, but he had opened his own curtains and poked up his fire, the latter of which he seemed to have done creditably since the room was warm but not sweltering.

  'Simon, there you are! Just in time for another glorious day filled with music.

  I've taken the liberty of opening the curtains myself since I expected this to be a magnificent day. And I was right, just look at that lovely spring sky. I swear, Simon, I've never had a Sunday like yesterday, filled with the most beautiful music a man can be privileged to hear but only after attending an edifying religious service, which added a certain sense of righteousness to the whole day.'

  Well, apparently that was as far as religion influenced Prince George's behaviour, to make him feel righteous a whole day, then revert to his usual self on Monday.

  'I'm glad you weren't bored, Your Highness, Sundays in the country can be long and very dull to an active mind.'

  'Sundays in town no less, my dear man, the things I have suffered before coming of age, the endless monotony of sitting with my parents in my best clothes, waiting for the day to creep by. First the sermon, in full view of everybody who mattered anything, and then at home with my brothers and sisters. How were your Sundays when you were a boy?'

  'I was fortunate, my parents were members of a church where children attended a different service from the adults, we were taught religion but in child-sized portions, and we were taught religious music, and might even play quiet games the minister thought suitable for learning to relate to other children.'

  'That is quite extraordinary!'

  'It was, I almost liked Sunday until I entered my first service, where religious observance became another duty instead of a privilege.'

  'Do you have many siblings?'

  'I have four sisters and a much older brother.'

  'Could you play with your brother despite the difference in age? My brothers and I were always horsing around and testing each other, whenever we were

  allowed to, which was more often than you might expect from a couple of princes.'

  Simon really had to remind himself to be on his guard, this was approaching dangerous grounds, the affable prince was back, gaining information where one didn't mean to give any.

  'I did horse around with my brother, though of course he was much stronger than I and I never had a chance to prevail. But it prepared me for life outside, for though my sisters rather spoiled me at home, London children play on the streets more often than not. I've had to fight to prove my mettle, we were all a rough lot by necessity but it was hardest for me. When you grow up looking like a little angel, complete with blond curls, you have a lot to prove to the neighbourhood bullies.'

  'You had blond curls as a child?'

  'As a little boy, yes, but also when I was thirteen, fourteen. And I was even more slender than I am now.'

  'You must have been as beautiful as a girl. I can see how that would cause problems.'

  He had no idea. To be considered unmanly and knowing he actually was what they accused him of. Few boys had fought as determinedly as Simon had to prove himself to himself, often as not losing and getting beaten black and blue as a result. Still it had gained him respect and even protection from older boys who appreciated his efforts. Until he discovered that women found him irresistible and he didn't need to fight anymore since he could use his influence with women to gain the respect of his peers.

  'One day I was fed up with being twitted over my looks and I had one of my sisters shave my head. It grew back in darker and a little more straight. I've kept it short ever since.'

  'So you might still have blond curly hair if it were longer?'

  What did the prince care? He was a ladies' man, wasn't he?

  'Yes, Your Highness, I suppose I would. But a valet should not care about his own appearance overmuch.'

  That dry statement caused Prince George to laugh heartily.

  'Oh, Simon, go fool someone else. I've never met a valet who wasn't vain as a peacock. You hide it better than most, but then you are much better endowed than most, you don't need much adornment. Still, look at your clothes, tell me you didn't have them made to size.'

  Simon bowed his head, he was vain, he had to admit it.

  'I did. It looks ever so much better that way.'

  'And it's subtle, it's a livery and yet it is not. As if you are not to be marked a servant. Why, Simon? And why not grow your hair?'

  'My master likes to keep ahead of things, and all servants talk. We're his eyes and ears behind the
scenes. The way I look now people hardly notice me, though it works even better for Nick. I'm too handsome, women tend to check me out. If I grew my hair they'd stop and stare. So I keep it shorter than I might like.'

  Prince George nodded, he accepted this. By now he was washed, shaved and dressed and Simon had no reason to stay, so he started to clear up after himself as he usually did just before he left.

  'Simon,' said Prince George, and Simon turned around to hear what he had to say.

  'Have you ever kissed a man?'

  Somehow, Simon expected this question, there had been a certain look in the prince's eye. He was curious, he loved beautiful things, and though not a thing, Simon knew he was beautiful.

  'I have, Your Highness.'

  'How was it, compared to a woman?'

  'Very exciting. Even the most eager woman is careful. A man is not.'

  Which was not true, Frederick was much more tender than any woman Simon had had, but that was none of the prince's business. Let him think a man would totally overwhelm him.

  'That is exactly as I'd describe it. I was just wondering whether you had tried.'

  'So you have?'

  'Certainly. It's more common than you might think, though no-one will admit it. I blame school, having lived exclusively among men for years some just don't know what to do with a woman anymore, though most learn eventually.

  Some don't, and their wives suffer for it. I was merely curious, and I admit, drunk, and he was so incredibly beautiful and quite willing. He'd never had the slightest interest in women he told me, I hope he didn't tell anyone else.

  Poor chap. Just be glad you were raised with four sisters, it saves a man a world of trouble.'

  Simon had always been glad to have four sisters, but not because they saved him from being attracted to men. Strangely enough he knew exactly how to relate to women, he just couldn't feel physical attraction for them, not enough to form a lasting bond. But he was glad to make a joke out of it.