Page 42 of Elizabeth is not a Bennet
Mistress’s Suite
Greymere
Two Hours Later
Most of the windows at Greymere could stand a good cleaning, but the ones in the room formerly belonging to Mrs. Stowe sparkled. The view outside the windows was far less prepossessing. Elizabeth could recognize that the view had once been the formal gardens, and she could see wildly overgrown roses spilling over hidden trellises and walls, and hints of white gravel peeked from between shamefully overgrown grass. It seemed that, among all her expenditures on luxury, Mrs. Stowe had not seen fit to pay gardeners to maintain even the view outside her own windows.
Elizabeth considered the untamed thicket. She rather enjoyed wildernesses more than artificial formality, but she preferred passable paths to wading through vegetation half as tall as she was. Everything stood in need of a severe pruning, but the grass of the lawns would have to be the first order of business.
She sighed and turned to move back to the velvet settee drawn up near the fire. She settled onto the plush, looking around in disapprobation. Despite a tendency towards parsimony when it came to the upkeep of her home, Mrs. Stowe obviously had no qualms in spending lavishly on her own living quarters. The furniture was all in the height of fashion, lushly padded and vibrantly colorful, not yet faded by the sun and age. A cursory examination of the wardrobe earlier had revealed a great quantity of gowns and dresses of exquisite taste and surely outrageous price. Knickknacks of varying values sat on nearly every available surface, and the walls hung with paintings.
Elizabeth shook her head, and as if in answer, the baby in her womb kicked. Elizabeth smiled down at her own abdomen and rested a hand on the swell of her child.
“Your father will fix it all up,” she declared and then turned as the door opened to reveal her beloved Fitzwilliam, who stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Are you well, my dear?” he asked, walking over to study her carefully.
“Of course I am,” she replied, lifting her face invitingly. He obliged by planting a loving kiss on her lips and then sank onto the seat next to her, pulling her close to him as he looked around the room.
“I do not much like Mrs. Stowe’s style,” he said drily .
“Nor do I, not at all. It is far too opulent and extravagant for my taste. I would prefer to sleep elsewhere, but Harold was right; the guest bedrooms are dusty and neglected. Given that there are not many servants, it will take some time to make them right, and for now, the servants are working on rooms for my uncle and Mr. Wickham.”
“We will be well enough here,” Darcy said. “But my dear, are you quite certain that you are comfortable with being here while your brother and I work on Greymere? We have been gone from Pemberley for some weeks, and I worry about your health and that of the child.”
“You need not worry, I promise you. Indeed, I am happy to be here. I was born in this very house and spent the first two years of my life here, though of course I do not remember anything. I want to be here, to spend time with Harold, and to learn about my heritage.”
Darcy’s expression of concern gave way to ease, and he nodded. “I understand that completely. I hope that if you feel the need to return to Pemberley, you will tell me.”
“Of course I will,” Elizabeth replied and then chuckled. “No one has ever accused me of being silent in expressing my own thoughts! ”
“Yes, but you are kind and generous, and even though you have not known Harold long, you are sympathetic toward his plight. But you and our child are my primary concerns.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth replied. “I promise that I will tell you how I am feeling from one day to another. For now, I will confess that I am quite fatigued and would appreciate a nap.”
Darcy’s eyes brightened. “You know, I am quite tired as well. May I join you?”
“That would be marvelous,” his wife declared with a cheeky grin.
/
The Nursery
Greymere
The Next Day
Elizabeth, with Darcy holding firmly to her arm, followed Mrs. Garfield, the housekeeper of Greymere, into the large room at the east end of the attics. It was quite chilly since the fireplace was cold and dead, and the movement of the door caused the dust to swirl into the air. Elizabeth sneezed.
“It is dreadfully dusty, Madame,” the housekeeper said apologetically, twisting her hands in her apron.
“It is quite all right,” Elizabeth told the woman in her most reassuring tone. “There was no reason to spend precious time cleaning the nursery with no little ones in the house.”
The woman nodded and sighed. “There have been no children at Greymere for many a year.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed absently, beginning to drift around the nursery in inspection. The infant toys had not been removed. Though the cloth ones had started rotting and falling to dust, the wooden rocking horse and Noah’s ark had withstood the test of time with only fading paint to show their age. A cot sat along one wall, furred thickly with dust. The cushions on the wooden rocking chair were gray beneath a layer of dust, their original color indiscernible. The curtains, hanging limp and tattered at the window, had faded to a dull beige.
Elizabeth had no memory of this place, yet she knew she had lived here for the first two years of her life. She had rocked on that rocking horse and played with the little wooden animals in that Noah’s ark and sat on the cushions in that rocking chair. But she had not lived here alone – across from her, an unobtrusive wooden door sat slightly ajar, and she stepped carefully over to peek inside. A wooden bedframe, severely plain, sat in one corner, an equally simple dresser adjacent to it. A chair had been shoved into the room, and a crib, and Elizabeth wondered with a pang if her infant brother had slept in that crib while she lay asleep in the cot in the nursery.
Elizabeth sighed mournfully and brushed a cobweb from her face as she stepped back into the nursery. There was no one left to ask about her infancy; Mrs. Stowe had replaced all the inside servants within a few months of the smallpox epidemic that had claimed her husband, thus protecting her claim that her stepdaughter had perished as well.
She glanced once more around the nursery, thin and drab and gray. It must have been abandoned entirely as soon as Harold outgrew it, with no one ever thinking of it again.
“This really is appalling,” Mrs. Garfield said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I would like to have it cleaned and swept and refreshed, but…”
She trailed off and Darcy said, “Pray do not trouble yourself. If we need more servants, we will hire them, but this area of the house is not a priority at the moment. The servants' quarters are of far more concern; the windows need replaced, and the lower servants need warmer outerwear and blankets. ”
“Oh, sir, indeed they do,” the housekeeper replied, tears starting in her eyes. “You are so kind and generous, sir. We are very grateful.”
“It is the responsibility of a good master to care for his people,” Elizabeth said, “and my brother intends to be a good master.”
She looked around one last time and then nodded briskly. “I think I have seen enough.”
Darcy sneezed and then grinned. “Good.”
/
Drawing Room
Greymere
Three days later
Elizabeth looked over the drawing room with contentment. In the days since the party had arrived, the servants had cleared out some of the furniture and packed away much of the delicate crystal which Mrs. Stowe had distributed lavishly around the main rooms of the house .
Already, a number of additional servants had been hired from nearby Claybourne, some to work inside the manor and some to work outside on the lawns and gardens. Elizabeth felt rather as if she were a queen bee in the midst of a nest, with the housekeeper, the competent Mrs. Garfield, consulting with her frequently, while Darcy, who had asked her to keep lists of various problems with the house and grounds of the Greymere, often visited with new information to write down. In addition, Mr. Wickham and Harold had spent much of the last two days visiting tenant farmers, collecting information about cottages and fields and the needs of the families themselves. Harold had been noticeably shaken after returning from the cottages; many were in terrible condition, with broken windows and leaky roofs. It would take substantial sums to repair the broken fencing and cottages.
Elizabeth had taken upon herself to record all the details of leaky cottage roofs and fallen fences, and she looked with approval at the neat piles of papers on the writing desk in front of her. The door opened, and she looked up and smiled at her husband, who was dressed in buckskin breeches, a serviceable blue coat, and top boots.
“I have finished the descriptions of the occupied cottages,” she said.
“Thank you, my dear,” he replied, walking over and planting a kiss on her capped head. He then picked up the topmost paper and read it with a growing frown of disapproval.
“It is dreadful,” he said grimly.
“It is,” Elizabeth agreed, and shook her head. “I fear that Harold will not be able to repair the tenant houses given that the estate is deeply encumbered, but those poor people! Leaks and broken windows and flooded fields…”
Darcy blew out a breath, walked over to the window, and stared outside, deeply in thought. He then turned and said, “We have plenty of savings, of course, but I am reluctant to simply hand over money to repair the estate. Harold is not to blame for the situation at Greymere, but he also must take responsibility for its future.”
“A loan, perhaps?” Elizabeth suggested. “A low or no interest one? I am no expert, but the rents will improve if the fields are drained and the cattle and sheep are not wandering aimlessly.”
“Yes, I think that is an excellent way to manage the situation,” her husband replied, and nodded decisively. “You really are clever, my love. I will discuss it with your brother, and if he agrees, we will have it all written up carefully with a solicitor. But Elizabeth, I think you have been working enough for now. Would you like to enjoy a walk or carriage ride with me? ”
“A walk, please,” his wife said and accepted his hand to help her to her feet.
“You will wish for a pelisse,” he said. “It is a trifle windy and chilly.”
She nodded and had a maid fetch her outerwear, and within a few minutes, husband and wife were walking, arm in arm, along the long driveway that led to the road, which in turn led to Claybourne. A load of gravel had been ordered but not yet delivered, and thus the Darcys chose to walk on the freshly mown grass next to the lawn; not that it was fully grass, Elizabeth noted; much of the greenery was weeds.
“It is not in particularly good shape,” she said, looking around her.
“No,” Darcy agreed. “It is not a high priority to have the grass reseeded, but perhaps next year, if Harold feels it important.”
Elizabeth glanced about to ensure they were entirely out of earshot of anyone and lowered her voice. “What do you think of my brother now that you have spent time here at his home?”
He patted her gloved hand with his own and said, “I think he is very young and unsure of himself, but his heart is in the right place. He does not seem to have inherited his mother’s spendthrift ways or extravagant desires. ”
“I quite agree,” Elizabeth remarked. “I do worry about his ability to manage when we have departed for Pemberley.”
“Well, as to that, Wickham and I have discussed the matter, and he has tentatively decided to stay on at Greymere with Harold for the foreseeable future.”
Elizabeth, who had been absently looking around at trees and sky and clouds as they wandered along, turned a startled look on her husband. “You truly trust Wickham to assist honorably?”
Darcy drew her a little closer and said, “Incredibly enough, I do. I have spoken to him at length and so has your uncle, whose discernment I trust. I believe Wickham has truly changed.”
“I hope so.”
“And if he has not,” Darcy said, “we will find out very soon. The steward here at Greymere is an old man who is far past his prime, and he is in agreement that he should retire. The only reason he did not earlier is that he was paid poorly by Mrs. Stowe and had not the savings to give up his position. Harold will give him a yearly stipend and a cottage, and I have recommended that Harold hire another steward, whom I can help him select. Among his other duties, the man will have instructions to keep a close eye on Wickham. ”
“I understand,” Elizabeth remarked and lifted her face to enjoy the heat of the sun’s rays on her face. “It is glorious here in Northumberland, do you not think?”
“I do,” her husband agreed, smiling down on her face, which was slightly plumper thanks to her pregnancy. “I confess that I am beginning to long for home, though, and Georgiana.”
“We should leave whenever you wish,” his wife said immediately. “After all, we can come back sometime if we like.”
“Indeed, we can.”