Pemberley

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  Well, Nick had tried his best not to judge the woman sitting in front of him,

  but if there was anything his experience with ladies had taught him it was that no-one committed adultery without wanting to. It was not fair to pin it on a man's drives only, women had those as much if maybe less intensely. But fortunately, Mrs Annesley did realise that.

  'I must have been aching for a little love for years, do not mistake me, my husband has become very mild and kind but that's with plain weakness, if he'd still been physically superior he'd still have felt like he could rule me. Mr Bennet was kind to me because that is how he is underneath his layer of sarcasm, his way to protect a good heart from his own mistakes in life. After that first spark there was no stopping it, we talked for hours, he told me all about his own poor choices and his resulting loneliness. We didn't kiss until his second visit, but then it was a small step towards seeking out my former room. I'm still not sorry we did it, only if I'm to be dismissed for it.'

  They wouldn't do that. Would they? Mrs Darcy had not been pleased, but she'd taken Nick's advice to be lenient easily enough. And Mr Darcy?

  According to Simon, and to Nick's certain knowledge in Pauline the maid's case, he'd always given his staff a fair chance, if he was really put out he'd give his London housekeeper a warning to break off the affair. And his father-in-law as much so, he wasn't a hypocrite.

  'I cannot believe they'd let you go, Mrs Annesley. Mr Darcy may seem alike to your husband, dominating his much younger wife, but you have witnessed yourself how much influence she has on him.'

  'Yes, she had Janine dismissed.'

  'Oh come now, Mrs Annesley, you were there and I wasn't, but I've heard enough from Simon that I know that woman got no more than she deserved.

  You can in no way compare your own situation to hers. You've always shown Mr Darcy and Mrs Darcy the proper respect, and you've never bullied or threatened the other staff. Has either of them ever treated you anything other than fairly?'

  'I stand corrected, Fowler, you are right, they have not. Before I was given the position of housekeeper Mr Darcy offered to help me set up my own business selling my art. He convinced me it was art, and ordered those two works to show to his visitors, to help me gain customers. You are right, I need to have more trust in the people around me. Please don't tell them what I said.'

  'Even if I were in the position to do so I wouldn't, Mrs Annesley. I suppose I cannot imagine them making much of this thing with Mr Bennet, they seem

  very good at ignoring little intrigues as long as they don't hurt anyone. Please take heart, Mrs Annesley, and try to enjoy a few days of freedom before the real hardship starts. I'm very sorry to hear that your husband is doing so badly.'

  'May I be perfectly honest with you, Fowler? I know you can keep your silence, you've done so for years and I suppose you still do.'

  Although Nick didn't like to hear that, her connection to Mr Bennet suggested she might know of Anne and Nick and maybe even about Simon and Frederick, he felt almost compelled to give the poor lady a chance to clear her conscience with someone not too close to her. But... as with making love, intimacy did come with a price.

  'If you'll call me Nick, Mrs Annesley. Being addressed by my family name reminds me of being trodden upon.'

  She nodded, the days in which she didn't rate an honorific were probably long past, but she'd remember the feeling of being a nameless servant, though frankly, Nick didn't have a clue how lowly ranked governesses were treated.

  'I understand. Though it seems your star is on the rise, Nick, even Mrs Darcy was rather familiar with you just now and she is always scrupulously fair to her staff.'

  Nick merely nodded his acknowledgement, there was nothing to gain by explaining.

  'I admit it is difficult for me to call anyone by their first name, I wasn't raised that way. But I didn't do too badly, did I?'

  'You did perfectly fine, Mrs Annesley. You are a very competent woman, I suppose not everybody appreciated that.'

  That was Nick's opening to encourage her to relieve her conscience, it was what she wanted of him and he did think he was the most suitable person to confide in. For her.

  'You are more right than even I knew for a long time. I blamed myself for years, for not loving my husband as I ought to, and when he got sick and turned out rather agreeable I blamed myself even more. But the fact was, Nick, that I was too good for him. Seriously. He could have married any pretty girl with enough sense to run a household and she would have made him happier than I did. Eventually I found out that life should be about more than merely making a living, but by then it was too late, I was shackled to five children and a man who couldn't even provide for his family. And yet in a way he helped me improve my lot, though without being aware of it

  himself. Because he was at home to keep our children out of trouble, and to direct the help I paid for, I had the opportunity to get my life back, to start improving myself again, to learn and to teach, and to spend time on my art.

  He hung on to provide our children with a start in life, and now they have all turned out well he can finally let go. I am thankful for that, and though I am sad to see him fight for each breath I am not heartbroken, Nick. The thought of losing him does not fill me with grief.'

  She took one deep breath and then said something she had probably been struggling with for months, if not years.

  'It will be a relief to see him go, Nick. I do not love him, have not loved him since our life together turned out such a deception. I suppose I'm thankful we eventually became friends, and I will mourn him as a friend. But not as the love of my life. Am I a really bad person, to look forward to no longer being a nurse to someone who should have been the man of my dreams?'

  As passionately in love with Anne as Nick was, he did remember his life before his fall, and he'd often wondered why people wanted so desperately to become one with their partners in marriage. Why couldn't they just remain themselves and enjoy love as it came, in whatever shape it presented itself?

  Why did it have to be with one person only, and forever?

  'I don't think so, Mrs Annesley, but you know my reputation. Why should men have all the opportunities? I just think it's sad you only got the chance to improve yourself when your husband no longer could, why didn't he let you be who you wanted to be from the first?'

  Of course that was not exactly what she meant, but that was even harder to put into words. He did try.

  'We're all just fallible people, Mrs Annesley. You have taken excellent care of your husband, you did what you could despite not loving him. We all want to love forever but how many of us really get that chance? I understand your feelings, and I'm pretty sure even Mr Annesley would. Have you ever talked about this? Does he know how unhappy you used to be, and how you held him responsible?'

  'I did tell him I was happy to be the provider, and he knows I no longer love him romantically. But I'm afraid he thinks it is due to his lack of prowess because of the consumption, when those drives that he lost were the main thing to come between us. Isn't that ironic? I've never dared explain what I really felt because I was afraid he wouldn't understand. And feel hurt. He did suffer a great deal, you know.'

  'Do you think that believing he lost your love because of his illness doesn't hurt? Shouldn't you at least try, give him a chance to understand? Wouldn't that make parting with you much easier on him? At the very least he'll know you're not afraid to go on by yourself.'

  The middle-aged lady bowed her head and thought for a bit.

  'You are wise beyond your reputation, and your years, Nick. I'm glad I came to you with this, I had a feeling you'd understand because of the way you love. But I hoped you'd give me some kind of absolution of guilt, not a confirmation of my selfishness followed by a way to make up for it whilst my husband is still alive. For I'm afraid I never even thought of what he might think, I just thought of myself, which proves I am indeed a bad person, or at least very selfish. Thinking of it from his perspective
I am certain I at least need to try to explain, it will make him feel bad about the past but much better about the future. Our future, the children's and mine. And he will know what he has meant for the children, they have come to know both their parents very well which they wouldn't have if he'd risen to a high rank in the navy. I think maybe he will believe me when I tell him my love got lost in his control of my life, not in his letting go of that. Thank you, Nick, I will talk to him and let him know what he has meant to me and especially to our children. I suppose I'm finally afraid he will die too soon, he must hold on to hear me out.'

  Without the slightest twinge of his conscience Nick lied to her. He had no idea how Mr Annesley was holding on, the poor man had to be really bad to have been given up on, but it wouldn't do to have her rush back to London and kill Mr Darcy’s horses in the process.

  'He will, Mrs Annesley. If he managed to keep death at bay for a decade to raise his children, a few more days to say goodbye to you will be child's play.

  And imagine how glad he will be to know you won't fall apart after he is gone.'

  She wanted to believe that, and why shouldn't she? Despite having been rather selfish she had cared for her sick husband for at least a decade, and she had ascertained her children growing up well. Mr Bennet would understand her feeling of having been shackled to a joyless life, he was of her class and probably saw it as her right to do whatever pleased her. Nick didn't have to understand to make her feel a little better and besides, he was learning to enjoy that lifestyle himself. If he'd known as a child that some people had all the comforts without having to work for them he would have had a hard time

  settling in any of his former positions.

  'Thank you very much, Nick, I feel much better. I'll be brave and face whatever is coming. Starting with Mrs Reynolds, shall we go and find her?'

  When Frederick and Anne entered the drawing-room together, Darcy already knew what they were coming to tell him. The first hour with his aunt, Mr Collins and Lord Chester had been rather pleasant, even Georgie and Fielding had exerted their considerable discipline to refrain from playing and joined the conversation. Lord Chester had proven his unblemished upbringing by entertaining his audience with delightful anecdotes and innocuous chitchat about several severe storms he had experienced in his school days. Aunt Catherine enjoyed the opportunity to recall her own glory days and how much colder winters had been then. She had accepted Lord Chester's superior status without trying to find out more about him, but he managed to incorporate various hints of his descent in his stories, in the shape of illustrious personages one might recognise as the Queen Mother, and places like St James', which he didn't mention by name but were so unique their description should ring a bell with everyone. But if aunt Catherine noticed, it didn't show in her behaviour, which was as perfect as Darcy had ever seen it.

  She could suddenly listen to someone else speaking for as much as a whole ten minutes, and whenever she related an anecdote of her own it was actually to the point and in some cases even rather funny. Darcy had never heard some of them, they were probably below her dignity to tell someone as much younger as he was. It was a side of his aunt he was delighted to discover, and hearing much more about his mother was also a pleasure. Mr Collins was mostly rather quiet, understandable in such august company, but like Georgiana and Fielding he did reply to questions whenever Lord Chester asked them, and he managed to do so in a way which made him seem rather sensible. Lord Chester was really good at drawing people out, which of course Simon had already experienced and warned them against repeatedly, but he also somehow helped people show the best of themselves.

  After they'd had tea, Georgie and Fielding could no longer control themselves and they lured Lord Chester and Mr Collins to the Clementi, where they played Lord Chester's favourite duets. And some sonatas, pieces Fielding called suitable only for showing off one's virtuosity. Well, he certainly managed that, Darcy still couldn't believe how fast his brother-in-law's

  fingers could move over the keys without working themselves into knots. It had to be the instrument as well, it was obviously a very superior piano that was finally done justice being played by a true master. Although Georgie was doing incredibly well, too, she had her teacher with her constantly, which could only result in rapid improvement.

  Darcy had seated himself and his aunt near the window to keep an eye out for Elizabeth's return, he really wanted aunt Catherine to see his beloved return from her riding lesson, in her split skirts and hopefully side by side with a mere guard.

  But things were to go altogether differently. Whilst his aunt scraped her throat to say, 'I suppose you want your little lady present when I give you your mother's letters?' Darcy could see a carriage approaching from the direction of the road, and he recognised his own London conveyance immediately, probably because of the slow team pulling it. Of course he was obliged to face his aunt as he replied to her inquiry and he did, missing the moment when the carriage passed by the Pemberley front entrance. His moment of distraction made his answer a tiny bit too frank.

  'Yes, please, aunt Catherine. It will not be easy for me, you see, I still hate George Wickham like no-one else in this world. I need Elizabeth to be there.'

  Where was she, his beloved? He stole a look to where the road disappeared behind the front of the house towards the stables and indeed thought he could see four people approaching the house. That had to be them, and they would certainly meet whoever was in that carriage. Though Darcy couldn't think of anyone brazen enough to take it besides his father-in-law.

  'Darcy, you're miles away! Don't you think it's sinful to set your sights so much on a fallible human being, a very fallible human being I may add? She is rude, unsophisticated and .... is that her, over there? What is she wearing?

  One moment it's a dress, and then it isn't! You said they were going for a riding lesson... Are you expecting more visitors? I do believe that is a carriage standing there with your wife, though a rather small, unsightly one.'

  'It's my London carriage, aunt Catherine. It's meant to be small to be able to navigate even the narrowest bridges and take the sheerest turns. And yes, I know it is very sinful to adore a fellow human being like I do Elizabeth. Still, I've never been so happy in my entire life. And I do not hesitate to say that she has made me a better man, despite her frankness and lack of formal education. Maybe even because of them, maybe I needed someone with the courage to tell me when I was being overbearing and judgemental.'

  'Darcy! How can you say such a thing of yourself, you have always been my measure of manliness. Calm, dignified, handsome, you were always the perfect gentleman, only a low woman would prefer a chattering nincompoop over a man of your regal bearing.'

  'I was also arrogant and disdainful to those I considered beneath me. To those I didn't know well. Among whom my dearest Elizabeth. It may shock you to hear I'm not her only admirer, aunt Catherine, but I can assure you she has captured the imagination of several gentlemen besides myself. Ask Lord Chester, or Mr Fielding. Or better, yet, ask your own brother.'

  'Oh, I know what my dear brother thinks of your little wife. And the papers cannot seem to stop singing her praise, if only one of those reporters had troubled to follow you here that would show her, wearing such dreadfully inappropriate skirts for the world to see. Though they'd most likely make something up to excuse her for being dressed like a farmer's wife, I seem to be the only one able to see through her. Well, I suppose I shall have to keep my objections to myself and spend my energy in a more useful way. Darcy, I beseech you to keep the dignity of the Darcy name firmly in mind when I hand you my late brother-in-law's letters this afternoon. You may not value your name now, but who is to say you won't regret any rash actions?'

  That didn't promise much good, if his aunt's attitude meant anything there would be bad news from the letters. Would he acknowledge Wickham as his brother? A man he despised? Give him part of their father's inheritance?

  Fitzwilliam hadn't gotten more from uncl
e Spencer than Wickham had gotten from Darcy so far, much less, in fact, considering that Darcy's father had already paid for Wickham's education, and Darcy had compensated for the living and paid off his debts several times, besides buying him a commission and a promotion. And a special licence to shackle him to Lydia Bennet as quickly as a willing man of the cloth could be found.

  'Darcy, you have always been my favourite nephew and I care about you.

  Please do not feel obliged to pay for your father's mistakes, however despicably he behaved he did hide his adultery well, no-one need ever discover the blemish he brought on his house. Please leave well enough alone.'

  Outside, apparently the party of four had split up, Manners and Anne moving on towards the house, Elizabeth and Fowler just turning back around the corner where the carriage had disappeared. Which almost proved Elizabeth's father was in that carriage, it had to be him, but where then were Mrs Bennet

  and Mary? His mother-in-law would never have accepted driving directly to the stables instead of making an entrance through the front door!

  There was nothing to do but wait for the riders to return to the drawing-room, which might take a while for Anne would not want to come into her mother's presence in a riding skirt. And if her father had just arrived, Elizabeth would be even later, she would want to see him settled before she changed.

  But what if something had happened to Mr Bennet's carriage, and Mary and especially Mrs Bennet were travelling with him after all? Mrs Bennet and aunt Catherine in the same drawing-room would be a recipe for disaster!