Page 47 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Stables
Pemberley
“They are beautiful,” Elizabeth remarked as she watched the three mares grazing in the paddock.
“They are,” Darcy agreed, though his eyes were on his adored Elizabeth.
The last days had been the most wonderful of his life as he spent many hours with the woman he wished to make his bride.
It was not merely her conversation and her presence that so pleased him, but her improved health, with her skin pinker and the fatigue in her eyes dissipating a trifle after every good night’s sleep.
They had enjoyed numerous hours in the library, sometimes talking about books or music or traveling and sometimes reading silently together.
They had gone for a walk every day but one, when the weather was poor, and he could see her gaining strength and vigor by the day.
He was very happy that she was here.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, turning toward him, “I wished to tell you of my gratitude in allowing us to stay here at Pemberley. I had not realized how exhausted I was at Longbourn. These last weeks have been absolutely wonderful, not just for me, but for my entire family. Mary looks happier by the day, and my little cousins are blooming. You have a truly incredible estate.”
“I have been honored to have you and your family here,” Darcy said and then added impulsively, “The greatest wish of my life is that you would be mistress of this estate, so I am glad that you appreciate it.”
She flushed at these words, her eyes downcast, and then she looked up at him, her chin firm, her dark eyes sparkling, and she said, “I like and admire and appreciate Pemberley very much, but you are the one I love, Mr. Darcy.”
He gasped in wonder at these words, but it took him only a few seconds to respond.
“And I love you with all my heart and soul,” he replied, beaming down at her. “Miss Bennet, will you become my wife?”
“I will,” she said, smiling up at him.
***
Kennels
Pemberley
The kennels of Pemberley, like everything else at the vast estate, were built on generous proportions with concern for those in residence, even if those in residence were merely dogs.
The whelping mothers and their puppies had been let out into one of the courts to sunbathe and to play, and the young Gardiners were every bit as delighted with their playmates as were the puppies.
Mrs. Gardiner, smiling, bent to scratch the ears of a polite spaniel who was making overtures and looked up to watch her own children, while a nursemaid kept a strict eye on them.
Puppies tumbled about in heaps and piles, dashing hither and yon with gleeful high-pitched yapping, darting up to the children and away again, before flopping down to roll on their backs.
“Do you think Papa will buy us a puppy, Mamma?” Priscilla Gardiner asked, looking up at her mother eagerly.
“I want puppy!” Matthew Gardiner said as his older brother Christopher leaped up and down with enthusiasm.
Madeline Gardiner suppressed a sigh. She and her children and a nursemaid had come down to the kennels of Pemberley often in the last weeks, and she found herself answering the same question from her beloved children each time.
“We will have to speak to your father,” she said patiently. “Now come along, my dear. It is time for Matthew to have a nap.”
“No nap, no nap!” Matthew howled, and Mrs. Gardiner sighed inwardly. She was now a sufficiently experienced mother to know that toddlers needed naps but generally did not like them.
“Shall I take him back to the house, Madame?” the nursemaid said, and Mrs. Gardiner nodded gratefully. “Yes, please.”
The young woman hoisted the squirming, protesting child up on her shoulder and strode away with strong legs and swishing skirts.
“May we visit the fish, Mamma?” Priscilla asked eagerly.
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Gardiner replied and guided her three older children out of the kennels and onto a path which led to a pond where a school of goldfish spent their time placidly swimming around.
Two figures caught in her peripheral vision, and she turned her head and stopped in place.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were standing across from one another some sixty feet away, across a paddock where several horses were wandering, and in spite of the distance, Mrs. Gardiner could tell from their posture and expressions that something wonderful had just happened.
She smiled to herself. She had long thought that Elizabeth and the master of Pemberley would deal well together, and it seemed that the young lady had come to the same conclusion.
“Why are we stopping, Mamma?” Phoebe asked, and Mrs. Gardiner immediately began walking again as she blinked away happy tears. “I am sorry, I was distracted.”
***
22 nd April
Longbourn
Dear Elizabeth,
I am engaged to Charles Bingley. That may come as a surprise since I rejected him some months ago, but I always liked him well enough.
When I rejected him, it was because we did not know one another well enough to marry, and Father was sick, and I was concerned that he was not sufficiently resolute to manage his sisters or sufficiently patient to be son-in-law to our mother.
Both concerns have been swept away by his behavior of late.
He sent his sisters away some time ago and has visited us almost every day these last weeks, and he has been incredibly patient and kind with Mother.
Charles is a truly excellent man, and I love him. He has shown himself to be committed to learning his duties in overseeing Netherfield, while also sacrificing considerable time to spend at Longbourn.
I am confident we will be happy together.
As to when we will wed, I do not know. Mother is ecstatic, of course, at having a daughter well engaged and soon well married.
I confess that I do not wish to wait long to marry Charles, partially because Father’s health is so uncertain, and partly because I am in love and wish to be happily married.
However, I cannot imagine you and Mary not being here, so I must request a letter with your thoughts on the matter. I would be very pleased to wait for you, of course, my dear Lizzy!
Mamma is calling.
Love,
Jane
***
Pemberley
22 nd April, 1812
Dear Jane,
Mr. Darcy and I are engaged! Oh, Jane, I am so very happy! He is such a wonderful gentleman, and I can hardly believe – truly I cannot – that the Lord has provided such a perfect man to be my husband. He is intelligent, and hardworking, and kind, and generous, not to mention handsome!
Mary and Colonel Fitzwilliam are still courting, but I think they too will likely come to an agreement before long.
We will be returning to Hertfordshire soon. I wish to marry from Longbourn, and in any case, it will be far easier for Uncle Gardiner to help with the settlement papers and the like when we are at Longbourn.
Fitzwilliam intends to ask Mr. Bingley if he can visit Netherfield Hall. We will probably spend a few more days here and then travel south.
Oh, Jane, I am so happy!
Love,
Elizabeth
P.S. Pray do not tell Mother or Father yet, or indeed anyone else besides Mr. Bingley. I want to tell Father that I am marrying Fitzwilliam. He will likely be upset, and that will be a difficult conversation, and I feel it is my duty to impart that news.
***
Estate of Pemberley
23 rd April, 1812
The day was absolutely glorious, a little slice of Heaven right there on earth.
A gentle cool breeze allayed any slight chance of overheating from the brilliant sun streaming down, and the air was scented with the heady perfume of lilac.
The trees lining either side of the lane shivered, shaking the tiny blossoms that covered them and creating a constant gentle rain of aromatic petals.
Pemberley House, some half-mile away, could occasionally be seen through the flowering trees when the meandering lane was at just the right angle, but overall an air of peace and solitude reigned over the grassy lane.
It was a romantic spot, and Mary relished it as she walked alongside Colonel Fitzwilliam, her hand on his arm.
Pemberley had been good for her, she thought, as she took deep breaths like a wine connoisseur might sample a good vintage.
It was, in some ways, a pity that they would be departing soon, as she had greatly enjoyed her time here, but she understood why it was imperative to return to Hertfordshire.
She would not miss Elizabeth’s and Jane’s weddings for anything.
Jane’s engagement to Charles Bingley had startled her considerably.
She had been expecting Elizabeth’s engagement any day, as anyone who saw Elizabeth and the master of Pemberley knew they belonged together.
Jane, on the other hand, had refused Mr. Bingley once already, and she was surprised that he had asked again and this time been accepted.
She was, however, pleased. Though she did not pretend to be well acquainted with Mr. Bingley, he had been kind to her when they had spoken, and he had always struck her as a good-humored man.
He and Jane would deal well with one another.
Mary was most troubled about her own prospective matrimony.
If she were to leave now, what would become of her courtship with Colonel Fitzwilliam?
Her eyes slid sideways to his profile. He was looking up at the flowering trees with great enjoyment, and she was free to ponder him as she wished.
The past few weeks had proven him to be congenial and kindly, and her own heart fluttered as she thought of him.
She would very much like to be his wife.
How was she to tell him that, though? That was the conundrum.
Elizabeth, clever as she was, might be able to successfully hint to Mr. Darcy that a renewal of his offer was welcome, but Mary, quieter, more pensive, less witty with her words, was uncertain how to proceed.
Still, she could probably have found a way if she were not held back by the doubts that assailed her.
The colonel had been unfailingly complimentary, his attention gratifyingly on her rather than her elder sister.
Mary was no fool, and having grown up in the shadow of her four handsome sisters, was well aware of men’s preferences towards feminine beauty over practicality and even accomplishments.
Even now, she could not credit that beside beautiful, vibrant, witty Elizabeth, any man of integrity would give plain, solemn Mary more than a second glance.
Not, at least, without the lure of money.
Five and twenty thousand pounds could cover a multitude of indifferent features, but Mary could not bear the idea of being wedded for the sake of fortune alone.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was a true gentleman and would doubtless treat her well, but she wished to wed someone who genuinely cared about her, not merely her money.
The truth was she was in love with the colonel, and unrequited love in a marriage would be agonizing indeed. She would rather stay unwed than share a bed and a life with a man who did not return her affections.
All of these concerns were moot if Colonel Fitzwilliam did not make her a definite offer before the Hertfordshire party returned home to Longbourn.
If he was coming with them, he had said no word, nor given any indication that such was his purpose.
If he intended to propose to her again before they left, he was running out of time.
Mary wished that he would do one or the other. She hoped, especially, that he would come to Hertfordshire, for she did not wish to be separated from him. Even the very prospect made her heart hurt.
She wished, not for the first time, that she had Elizabeth’s way with words.
Mary stole another sidelong glance at her suitor’s face.
Handsome? No, perhaps not, but very dear to her!
If only it were as simple as her turning now and catching his eye and confessing her love to him …
but she could never do such a thing. Both innate timidity and the bounds of propriety forbade it.
All she could do was wait and hope that he would speak before it was too late.
“It is lovely, is it not, Miss Mary?” Richard Fitzwilliam said, distracting her from her anxious thoughts.
She looked around and inhaled a deep breath of lilac-infused spring air. “It looks and smells wonderful.”
“Indeed,” he said and turned toward her and held out his gloved hands. She held out her own without hesitation or thought, and he took them with a firm but not uncomfortable grip.
“I have been thinking,” he said.
Mary swallowed hard and found that she could not bear to look her suitor in the eyes.
“What have you been thinking about?” she asked softly.
“I have been thinking about you and how much I wish to marry you, but also how I do not want you to be pressured into entering an engagement with me merely because your elder sisters have been recently engaged.”
She blew out a breath and managed to lift her eyes to his. “I do wish to marry you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I … I love you, and I do not want to wed if you do not look on me with true affection. I know you are an honorable man, but it is not enough for us to … to…”
She trailed off, and he tightened his grip a little more and said, “I promise you that I am not asking for your hand in marriage only because of your money. You are genuine, and kind, and hardworking, and generous, clever, and a good sister and daughter. I admire, respect, and like you very much, and I am confident that we would be happy together.”
Mary felt her chest ease a little at the sincerity in the colonel’s dark eyes.
“I agree,” she said, “and I want to be your wife.”
He lifted her hands in his and kissed her right wrist where the glove ended. “Thank you, Mary. I promise I will do everything I can to make you happy.”
“And I will do the same for you.”