Page 27 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Pemberley

New Year’s Eve

Pemberley was beautiful in every season, but Darcy thought there was something especially charming about winter. The whole world looked a frosted fairyland with a few inches of clean white snow covering gray branches and bare brown dirt. Dark evergreens stood as startling spots of muted color among a forest largely leafless and naked. Birds flashed from branch to branch or hopped through twiggy underbrush, and squirrels chattering their displeasure at this cold, wet change in their circumstances.

Darcy smiled to be home. It had been a long several months’ absence, and he was ready for his own room in his own house. He had done his duty by his friends and acquaintances further to the south, and he left with their affairs well in order. The Bingleys were moving through their days in a haze of domestic, adoring bliss, and Richard Fitzwilliam had escorted the reprobate Wickham twin to Brighton with a vengeful pleasure. There he had consigned him to the strict oversight of one Colonel Masters, who had little use for debt-ridden philandering gamblers or indolent layabouts. Wickham would be far too busy in drilling and marching for the foreseeable future to cause any more trouble.

“It is so good to be back here in time for the New Year,” his sister’s voice said from beside him, and he turned to smile at his precious sister Georgiana, who was staring out the window on the other side of the carriage.

“It is,” Darcy agreed, reaching out a long arm to draw Georgiana closer to him.

Across from them both sat Georgiana’s companion, Mrs. Annesley, who was gazing out with curiosity. She had never been to Pemberley before, so this was all new to her.

“The house is magnificent,” the lady said in an awestruck tone. Darcy, looking at the grand facade of his home, tried and failed to imagine seeing it for the first time. Certainly it was an incredible structure, with a long brick frontage, and five floors, and a portico at the front door, and a trout stream adjacent, and lavish stables, and a large Home Farm...

But to him and to Georgiana, it was home. They had been born and bred here, and there was a deep satisfaction in being back in the country of their youth, and of their father’s youth, and their grandfather’s as well.

There had been Darcys at Pemberley for more than a century and a half, and if this trend were to continue, he truly needed to marry in the next few years and sire an heir.

Which reminded him of Elizabeth Bennet, living only a few miles away in the parsonage at Kympton, and his heart soared at that thought.

He wanted to see her again, to introduce her to Georgiana, to observe whether she had recovered her equanimity after Lydia Wickham’s flight and near disaster.

Yes, he would see her soon.

***

Church in Kympton

Early January

The church at Kympton was not large, but it was entirely charming, with a modest bell tower, a sanctuary which was large enough for some one hundred congregants, and several lovely stained glass windows through which beamed warm colored lights.

Elizabeth shifted her feet a trifle, relishing the heat of the warm brick at her feet. The church was cold, but the Wickham pew was well built and blocked from drafts While Lydia, seated next to her, was a ball of heat. All in all, she was comfortable enough.

“O God,” Alexander Wickham said from the pulpit, “you make us glad by the yearly festival of the birth of your only Son, Jesus Christ. Grant that we, who joyfully receive him as our Redeemer, may with sure confidence behold him when he comes to be our Judge; He who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit. One God, now and forever. Amen .”

“Amen,” Elizabeth and Lydia murmured.

As Alexander continued the service, Elizabeth found herself gazing at the stained glass window nearest her, which depicted the Madonna holding her Holy Child. She had been thankful for the gift of Christ to the world for as long as she could remember, but when she contemplated the last few weeks…

She was well aware that the entire family could have been ruined, and now she sat next to her young married sister, under the preaching of her new brother by marriage. And Jane was married as well, and all was, if not entirely right in the world, at least not terribly far from it.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

The organist began playing, and Elizabeth looked at Lydia, who smiled and said, “Alexander preaches very well, does he not?”

“He does,” she agreed truthfully. Her new brother-in-law spoke clearly and well, and he was able to project his voice such that everyone in the sanctuary could hear him. Elizabeth had listened to sermons by men who muttered more than talked, which was frustrating for all.

Lydia leaned a little closer and said softly, “I also think he looks quite handsome in his black cassock and white bands. Not as handsome as he did in a red coat, but still very handsome.”

Again, Elizabeth could only agree with her sister’s assessment, and she watched as Alexander stepped down from the pulpit and down the steps onto the floor.

He would be arriving to escort them to the parsonage soon, and she braced herself. The previous Sunday, which was the first time she and Lydia had attended the Kympton church, had been something of an ordeal, as the parishioners were, not surprisingly, extremely curious about their parson’s new wife. Elizabeth had spoken sternly to Lydia about her behavior as the wife of a clergyman, and she thought Lydia had done quite well in being quieter and calmer than was normal, for her anyway. Still, there would doubtless be a crowd of curious onlookers once again today, and Elizabeth could only pray that Lydia would maintain a moderately demure demeanor.

The door to the pew opened from the outside, and Alexander smiled at the pair and said, “Lydia, Elizabeth, you remember Mr. Darcy, of course.”

The sisters exchanged startled glances and stepped out into the aisle to discover Mr. Darcy standing a few feet away with a tall, blonde, well-dressed girl at his side.

“Mrs. Wickham,” Darcy said with a bow. “Please allow me to congratulate you on your marriage to Mr. Wickham. He is a very fine man.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Lydia said, turning a proud look on her husband. “He is indeed.”

“Now,” Darcy continued, “may I please introduce you to my sister? Georgiana, Mrs. Wickham and Miss Bennet. Ladies, my sister, Miss Darcy.”

The ladies curtsied to one another and Elizabeth, once she was erect again, turned an interested eye on Miss Darcy. The only daughter of Pemberley was tall, and while she was only sixteen, her appearance was already womanly and graceful. She was a pretty girl, and her expression gentle and timid.

“Miss Darcy,” she said, “it is an honor to meet you.”

“I am very pleased to meet you too, Mrs. Wickham and Miss Bennet,” the girl said softly, her face flushed with what Elizabeth thought was probably shyness.

“Mr. Darcy!” a new voice came from their right, and the party turned as a tall woman of some five and forty years glided up to them, dressed extravagantly in sable, with ostrich feathers on her hat waving in the breeze. “Welcome back to Derbyshire.”

“Lady Ladson,” Darcy said, bowing toward the woman. “Good morning. Yes, I returned but recently. Is Sir Wilbur here?”

“No, he was unable to attend today, regrettably, but I will tell him that you have arrived back in the area. I hope that you and Miss Darcy would be able to have dinner with us soon, perhaps an evening next week?”

Elizabeth did not pretend to know Mr. Darcy particularly well, but she was quite certain that he was not pleased by this invitation. However, there was apparently no option for declining, so he merely said, “Of course, Lady Ladson. My sister and I would be honored.”

The lady bent her head and sailed away without giving any attention to Elizabeth and the Wickhams, which was, perhaps, expected, even if a trifle rude.

Darcy turned away from the departing woman and toward Alexander, and he said, “Mr. Wickham, I need to take my sister home, but I was hoping that you and your family and guest will come to dinner at Pemberley in the next days?”

“Thank you, sir. We would very much enjoy that,” Alexander said with a smile. “Do you have a particular day in mind?”

The two men quickly decided on the following Tuesday, and with that, the Darcys left the church, with a crowd of wide-eyed parishioners parting in their wake.

Alexander spent a few more minutes speaking with some of the men and then escorted his womenfolk out the side door and down the paved path, which led to the nearby parsonage. Elizabeth, striding rapidly along with her taller sister and brother by marriage, chuckled softly at the memory of the awed faces of the parishioners of Kympton at the sight of the Darcys.

A moment later, amusement gave way to gratitude. Mr. Darcy had no obligation to single Lydia and Elizabeth out for attention by introducing them to his sister, but he had done so. Given that the Darcys were the great family in the area, such attention on his part for the Wickhams meant that any malicious gossip about Alexander’s hasty marriage would be suppressed.

Mr. Darcy had not impressed Elizabeth on their first encounter considering that his first act was to insult her beauty. Since then, her opinion of him had improved markedly, and now she considered him a truly excellent gentleman, even if he was still a trifle stiff in company. He was, she acknowledged, far higher in society than she, and for him to work so diligently to help Lydia and, by extension, the Bennets, was kindness itself.

Yes, she mused. He was an admirable man, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.

***

Drawing Room

Parsonage in Kympton

Elizabeth dipped pen in inkwell, leaned over the blank paper, and began to write to her beloved elder sister.

7 th January, 1812

Dear Jane,

Many, many congratulations on your wedding. Lydia and I are both delighted for you. I am confident that Charles is your perfect husband, even as you are his perfect wife.

The trunks from Longbourn arrived yesterday with our clothing. It was a true pleasure to pull out some of my favorite gowns, since that I have been wearing the same three garments for some time.

The parsonage at Kympton is very pleasant, and my guest bedchamber is neat and comfortable. The Kympton living is, as you know, granted by the Darcys, and Mr. Darcy has been diligent in his responsibilities to keep the parsonage well repaired, with a good solid roof and modern windows. The weather is definitely colder here than at Longbourn, but we have plenty of wood, and the parsonage is snug and cozy.

I am, of course, naturally displeased with Lydia’s decision to run away with Mr. Wickham and his decision to run away with her, but I think the newly married couple rub along fairly well together. Not as much as you and Charles, but that would be asking too much.

Have you had any further interaction with Miss Bingley and the Hursts?

I need to dress for dinner so will end this now. Again, many congratulations, my dear.

With much love,

Lizzy

Elizabeth read over the letter quickly, sanded it, folded it, and sealed it. Alexander would have it sent out the next day.

She had deliberately written with great care about Lydia’s elopement. So far, everyone seemed to accept that it was Alexander who had run away with the youngest Bennet daughter, not George, and she was being careful when putting down anything about the affair in writing.

She was confident that Charles had told Jane the complete truth of the matter before the Bingleys’ wedding, and that was enough.

“Lizzy?”

Elizabeth turned and smiled at Lydia, who had entered the room and was wearing an anxious expression. “Yes?”

“Would you be willing to come upstairs with me to see what I should wear tonight? I want to look my best.”

“Tonight? Oh, the dinner at Pemberley?”

“Yes,” Lydia replied, the worry in her eyes deepening. “Mrs. Hayward says it is terribly grand, and I do not wish to shame Alexander with my attire.”

Elizabeth suppressed her surprise at this innocent remark and immediately rose to her feet. “Of course, but I promise you Alexander will be very pleased to have you at his side. Moreover, we have known Mr. Darcy for several months, and his sister seems kind. You need not worry.”

Lydia kept silent until they had entered her bedchamber, which was separated by a joint sitting room from her new husband’s chamber.

“Yes. We have known Mr. Darcy since October,” the younger woman concurred as she pushed the door shut, “but I always thought he despised our entire family. After all, he insulted your looks on the very day you met.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “He did do that,” she agreed with a sigh, “but perhaps he had a headache or was in a bad mood that night.”

“It was very rude!” her sister said, “not to mention stupid. You are very handsome!”

Elizabeth smiled and reached over to draw Lydia into an embrace.

“Yes, it was both rude and stupid,” she concurred, “but he has done a great deal for us all in the interim, and I have forgiven him. Sometimes in life, I have found that one’s action speak louder than the words that we say. But come, my dear, let us see which of your gowns is best for tonight.”