Page 41

On the Road to Pemberley

Wednesday, 6th May, 1812

It was a glorious day for traveling, neither too cold, necessitating warm bricks and rugs and fur muffs, nor too hot, sweltering any passengers in the carriage. A balmy breeze whispered through the opened windows of the Darcy carriage, bringing with it the sound of horse hooves clopping on hard-packed dirt. No dust rose to choke them, and occasional snatches of the coachman's breathy whistling could be heard.

Elizabeth gazed out the window, heart brimming with joy. The world was lovely indeed, lush with overgrown grass in the ditches and copses in full leaf. Sheep grazed in the hills, their lambs gamboling around them, and farmer and horses labored in their fields. White and purple wildflowers lined the road and vanished off under trees. It was all very beautiful, and Elizabeth was unspeakably glad to be back in the country.

Not that their four-month sojourn in Town had been unenjoyable, precisely. Married life continued to be a blissful dream, even as Elizabeth and Darcy both adjusted to living in close and intimate proximity to one another. Even the Season, with its flurry of balls and soirees and dinners and rides in the Park and operas and plays at the theater, had been pleasant. Lady Matlock had taken her self-assumed duties very seriously and had assiduously introduced young Elizabeth Darcy to all her own friends and the various people of rank.

Elizabeth knew that having the countess's public approval had helped her significantly, but her own vivacity and charm had done her no harm either. Once or twice, some disappointed society miss who had set her own sights on Darcy had been heard to utter a less-than-approving comment or titter about Elizabeth's lackluster antecedents, but little attention was ever paid to such cattery, least of all by Elizabeth herself. Darcy and Georgiana were both perfectly happy with her new role in their lives, and that was what really mattered.

Nonetheless, this return to country environs was an unalloyed joy. Excitement filled Elizabeth anew at the thought of at last seeing Pemberley, the grand house and expansive land she had heard so much about. Her responsibilities as mistress would be new, and exciting, and a bit overwhelming. But she had practiced at Darcy House for some months, and both her husband and Georgiana spoke of Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper of Pemberley, with deep affection and respect, and Elizabeth was eager to meet the woman .

She looked over at her husband and found him gazing at her, and she said, “It seems we have been blessed with good weather today.”

“Indeed we have,” Darcy agreed simply, but she, who knew him so well now, could tell that he was full of genuine exultation at this journey north to his birthplace.

“Oh, Elizabeth,” Georgiana said from her position across from her. “I am so excited that we will soon be at Pemberley. It is truly marvelous in the spring!”

“I am incredibly eager to see it. I have a picture in my mind’s eye of how it all looks, but I am probably entirely wrong.”

“Did Fitzwilliam tell you about the lake and trout stream? There is a winding path and two stone bridges across the stream in various places. It is a marvelous walk.”

“I heard about the stream but did not realize it contained trout. My uncle Gardiner will be thrilled by that.”

“I was not aware that he enjoyed fishing, my dear,” Darcy said. “I will be certain to ensure that there is tackle for him when he visits with his family.”

Elizabeth could not help but smile gratefully at her husband at these words. The Gardiners were not the sort of people who typically stayed at a grand estate such as Pemberley, but Darcy had become fast friends with the couple, and the entire family, including the children, would be visiting in July.

“It will be wonderful having children at Pemberley,” Georgiana remarked with a smile. “As much as I love my home, it has been quiet for too long. I am certain you will bring significant cheer and joy to the estate.”

“Well, no one has ever accused me of being too quiet, Georgiana,” Elizabeth said with a cheerful laugh, “and thus, I can safely promise to bring as much noise as you want to Pemberley.”

Darcy leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and they lapsed back into silence, content to watch the countryside go by as the carriage delved further and further north.

***

East Sitting Room

Rosings

Noo n

“Thank you,” Charlotte Collins said, accepting a cup of tea from her patroness and new friend, Anne de Bourgh.

Anne poured milk and honey into her own tea and took a luxurious sip. Even now, months after breaking away from her mother, she relished the pleasure of drinking tea exactly as she liked it. She also was able to order the simpler foods which so suited her, and sit where she wanted in the mansion, and wear comfortable, flattering clothing.

“How are the Smythes?” Anne asked, and Charlotte sighed and said, “By God’s grace, they have only a few minor burns from the fire that burned up their cottage, but the Harrisons’ cottage is very crowded with two families living there now.”

Anne nodded and said, “I have been thinking about both families and have a suggestion, but I wished to speak to you about it. What would you think about the Smythes moving into the Lodge at the gates? Old Mr. Hartfell has plenty of room, and he really is too old to manage the lodge well by himself. If I provided a gig and horse, Mr. Smythe and his elder son could drive to their farm and work their fields while the cottage is being rebuilt.”

Charlotte smiled and said, “Miss de Bourgh, that is a marvelous plan. I have been worried about Mr. Hartfell, and the lodge is quite large. But are you certain that you are able to lend a horse and gig?”

Anne nodded and said, “It will be no trouble at all. We have plenty of horses, probably too many, and I am working with the steward to evaluate whether we should sell some of our geldings.”

“I have been impressed with Mr. Armstrong,” Mrs. Collins remarked.

“He is marvelous,” Anne agreed, and then added with a sly grin, “My mother would have loathed him, of course, as he is willing to disagree with me when he feels it appropriate. He is obviously a sensible young man, and I am grateful for Darcy’s work in finding him for me. Old Mr. Quinton simply could not understand that I wanted someone to give me real advice, not a mere toady who would echo my every word.”

She felt a sudden twinge of guilt. Her friend Mrs. Collins was married to a complete sycophant in the form of the parson of Hunsford. A moment later, her chest eased when Charlotte said cheerfully, “I understand, Miss de Bourgh, and while I have only been here in Hunsford for a few months, I am confident that your oversight of the estate is bringing good things to all. I am certain that both Mr. Collins and I will find it far easier to fulfill our duties with you as mistress of Rosings. ”

“I am glad you think so. I am determined to do all I can to bring healing to the estate after my mother’s less than benevolent rule.”

“Have you heard from Lady Catherine of late?” Mrs. Collins asked delicately.

“Not directly, no, but my uncle Matlock has written informing me that Lady Catherine will be spending a few more months, at least, in Milton Wray. I gather, from my uncle’s guarded words, that she continues to rail against her current situation. I am grateful that he is managing my mother’s care so that I can focus my attention on the needs of the estate.”

***

Dining Room

Longbourn

Mr. Bennet ate steadily at his ham and his buttered roll, listening to the conversation around the table with interest. For many years, it had been his habit to hurry through any meal and escape to his library, but recently he found himself taking his time to savor each bite as he listened to his womenfolk converse with one another.

There were no hysterics and vapors to disrupt the meal, no shrieking and giggling about red-coated officers. His wife and their three younger daughters had returned from London two weeks previously, and Mr. Bennet had morosely anticipated a return to his usual beleaguered life … or worse, for his only two sensible daughters were married and living with their husbands. He did not expect any break from the silliness, and dreaded any invasion of his increasingly precious time in his library.

So he had been deeply and pleasantly surprised to find that their London sojourn had been extremely beneficial for his family. Mrs. Bennet, her ever-present anxieties soothed by having two daughters very well married indeed, no longer had vapors and attacks of nerves at every provocation, or fretted at him constantly about the entail. He had never much concerned himself with laying up for the care of his widow – if anything, it had seemed that in her nervous state she would predecease him – but he could acknowledge that having two wealthy sons by marriage would reasonably ease her mind.

His daughters, too, had improved. Mary had become a true pleasure to listen to when she played the pianoforte, and no longer did she confine herself to dull hymns and overly complex sonnets and bleak moralizing ballads. Kitty had blossomed into a genuine artist, showing a ready talent with charcoals and pencils as well as water colors. He had walked into the sitting room but two days ago and paused to admire the drawing taking on shape and color beneath her hand, a detailed and fetching depiction of the robin singing in the tree outside the window.

Mr. Bennet's thoughtful gaze went to Lydia. She had yet to reveal any remarkable new talents, but he had not forgotten her unexpected display of courage in stabbing the miscreant Wickham with her hat pin. Currently, she was eating her peas with good appetite and listening to Mary, who was speaking of the latest novel she acquired at the lending library.

That, too, was a new development. All of his younger three girls were, for the first time in their lives, displaying an interest in reading outside of their own narrow preferences. Mary was borrowing Lydia's novels, and the other day he had found Lydia curled up reading philosophical treatises. Judging from the way her brow had been furrowed, she had not really understood it, but it was a decidedly hopeful effort.

Moreover, he had not heard one single giggle or murmur about marrying an officer since their return, and the maids who walked with them to Meryton had reported that the girls all behaved entirely sensibly and even showed a prudent wariness towards the militia officers. As much as he regretted Wickham's attack on Elizabeth, it was undeniable that it had had an improving effect on her younger sisters.

Of course, the Town holiday had not at all dulled his frivolous family's interest in fashion, he reflected with wry affection as the conversation turned. But even talk of gowns and ribbons and bonnets was not as tiresome as it had always been, and he listened with half an ear as Kitty suggested improvements to Mary's current dresses. The improvements had already begun, Mr. Bennet observed with vague surprise, with a bit of lace at her neckline that flattered her complexion. Though her hair was in its customary bun, soft loose curls framed her face pleasingly, and the hair atop her head was not combed severely flat. She smiled at an interjection of Lydia's, and her face was transformed, becoming almost pretty.

Mr. Bennet's favorite times were still the hours he spent in his library, and he did not anticipate that changing any time soon. But he no longer dreaded mealtimes and would sometimes bring his book down to the sitting room after dinner to spend time with his family. He had even begun to entertain a vague hope that he might one day interest one of his younger daughters in his favorite authors. It would be nice to do so before the trip to Pemberley .

He grinned at the thought of their upcoming trip. In just a few months, the entire family – the remaining Bennets, and the married Bingleys, too – would travel north to see Elizabeth and Darcy and the glorious Pemberley library. Darcy’s descriptions of it boggled the mind and had filled him with a great eagerness. Bibliophile that he was, it was a sight he was eager to see for himself. He wished only that he could have enough time to read even a quarter of the collected books.

There would not be enough time, of course, for he missed Elizabeth even more than he desired to see her husband's library. He was content that he had given her away to a good man, and she had written dutifully, but it was not the same, and he looked forward to seeing her again, well and happy in her new home.

***

Pemberley Estate

The Next Day

Elizabeth tightened her grip on her beloved husband’s hand but kept her gaze fixed on the view outside the moving window of the carriage. After a thoroughly comfortable journey from London, including a night on the road at a pleasant inn, they had finally arrived at Pemberley, and she felt as if she did not even wish to blink for fear of missing some of the sights.

On either side of the carriage, the woods were tall and green and glorious, and they stretched into the far distance. The road climbed for half a mile and then suddenly, the trees gave way to a grand view of Pemberley House, situated on rising ground, made of stone, with woody hills behind it, and Elizabeth caught her breath at the sight. It was bigger than even she had imagined, with an expansive frontage, and chimneys rising to the sky, and a hundred windows reflecting the blue sky above them. In front of the house was a lake, and as the carriage drew nearer, she spied the stream running into the smooth waters.

“It is beautiful, my love,” she murmured in awe. “Absolutely lovely.”

“I am glad you think so,” her husband replied.

The carriage rolled the last few yards to the front of Pemberley and stopped. Moment later, an eager footman opened the door from outside.

Darcy stepped down first and then helped out first Georgiana, and then his bride.

Elizabeth looked up, heart swelling, at the beautiful mansion which spread to either side of her .

“Welcome home, my dear,” Darcy said, his handsome face glowing with joy. “Welcome to Pemberley.”