Page 88 of The Shades of Pemberley
Though Darcy had never seen the woman behave in this way, at Pemberley she had become soft-spoken, rarely venturing an opinion, and when she did, it was almost always with diffidence.
Whether it was because of her experiences, Lady Susan’s kindness in promoting her interests, or realizing just what her interest in Jameson Darcy meant, he could not say, but he found her much more tolerable now than he ever had before.
Bingley, he knew, looked on his sister’s alteration with approval, or he did so when he could spare any time from his contemplation of Jane Bennet’s perfections.
“That would be lovely,” said Jane, agreeing with Miss Bingley while favoring her with a smile. The two ladies had become closer friends since coming to Pemberley, a benefit to them both as it was now almost certain they would become sisters.
“A picnic and games?” demanded Lydia as if she had never heard of such a thing before.
“Oh, yes, let us have some fun!” said Kitty, clapping her hands.
Darcy exchanged glances with the other men and saw their agreement.
“I believe it will be quite safe,” said Mr. Bennet after a moment’s reflection. “Enough men are guarding this place that I do not suppose a mouse could approach the house and remain unobserved.”
“Very well,” said Darcy, much to the delight of the company. “I shall speak with Mrs. Reynolds and arrange a picnic lunch for the morrow.”
This was welcome to the entire party, such that they chattered about the amusement for the rest of the day, excited tones replacing the complaints and sighs of the younger girls.
Had the weather been rainy, Darcy expected to face a mutiny, for all the company’s hopes appeared set on the following day’s activity.
Nature, however, smiled on them, the day dawning beautiful and warm, with not a hint of a cloud to interrupt the glory of the fathomless blue skies.
Though Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Darcy had continued the girls’ tutelage without cessation since their arrival at Pemberley, they determined there was little to be gained from requiring immersion in dusty tomes or concentration on mathematical problems, for there would be no focusing them on their studies that day.
At the appointed time, the company exited the house and made their way to the tables, chairs, umbrellas, and games set out for their enjoyment.
As it was still early and before luncheon, those interested indulged in the games, and for a time, they all enjoyed the activity, while the elders sat and observed, sipping on lemonade and eating fruit from Pemberley’s well-appointed conservatory and orchards.
When the time came for luncheon, they ate sandwiches and crispy salads, enjoyed cakes and biscuits, and for a time after, they sat together and spoke, allowing the bounty of their meal to settle.
Thereafter, the younger girls again rose, eager to return to their fun.
“Well, this is an amusing scene, and no mistake,” said Bennet sometime later. “My youngest daughter has tried to project the aura of maturity, but now she is behaving as a child of five.”
Darcy could not dispute Bennet’s words, for the girls had broken into an impromptu game of tig, as they called it in the north.
Laughter flowing, they chased each other across the lawn, and in time, they even drew Mary, Jane, Bingley, and even Miss Bingley into their raucous game.
Bingley and Jane, however, were a failure, as Bingley allowed others to catch him, and then focused on Miss Bennet like a fox chasing a fat hare, provoking protests from the girls for his unnatural style of playing.
At length, laughing so hard his sides ached, Bingley and Miss Bennet bowed out, allowing the girls to continue their game.
“It reminds me of the girls as children,” said Mrs. Bennet, a wistful note of remembrance in her voice. “I wondered how I could endure five such active and loud children, for their games drove me to distraction.”
“If you will pardon me,” said Jane, as she joined them with her beau behind her, “I do not believe I have ever been a loud child.”
“No, you were as quiet then as you are now,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Yet I remember your shrieking laughter when playing, which was the equal of the other girls. Even Mary did not hesitate to join in your fun, though she was always a serious child.”
“And Lizzy was your ringleader,” laughed Bennet. “She could whip you all up into a frenzy, and did so whenever she could, no doubt to drive her poor parents to distraction.”
“Not at all, Papa,” said Elizabeth sweetly. “It was never to affect your peace of mind; I simply felt that Longbourn needed life.”
“Trust me, Lizzy,” said Bennet, fixing his second eldest with affection, “Longbourn has not needed invigoration these past twenty years at least. You girls have always created enough noise to wake the dead with your antics.”
“With such accounts,” said Bingley, winking at Elizabeth, “I wonder why you have not taken part in these games. Or have you given over your position as leader in hijinks to your youngest sister?”
Bingley, of course, knew nothing about Elizabeth’s condition, though Darcy suspected she had informed her elder sister. Now was not the time to tell anyone else, so Elizabeth settled on a jest to answer his challenge.
“Now that I am an old married woman, it would harm my image to partake in such childish pursuits as tig.”
“Old married woman, indeed!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Why, I have never heard such nonsense from you, Lizzy. When you reach my age, then maybe you can claim the title.”
The company laughed at Mrs. Bennet’s exclamation, even as Kitty and Lydia ran past them, the former chasing the latter until she cornered her, each laughing so hard their sides ached.
Then, when Kitty ran away, Lydia joined the fray once again, catching Miss Bingley, who appeared as if she were not trying to escape.
Miss Bingley then caught Mary and excused herself from the game, taking a seat next to Jane, who smiled at her breathless state.
“I do not consider myself an old woman,” said she, “for I am only Jane’s age. Yet I declare the girls have far more energy; they appear ready to continue this game for the rest of the afternoon!”
“My youngest have always possessed vigor aplenty,” agreed Mr. Bennet. “The one who surprises me is Mary, for I would not have expected her to set aside her reserve to behave as one of the younger girls.”
Mary, laughing as she caught Georgiana, stood for a moment catching her breath as Georgiana chased the other girls, but when she caught Lydia, Mary nimbly moved out of the way of her younger sister’s questing hands. And so, the game continued.
“Well, they are excellent girls, if I may be so bold,” said Bingley. “I declare they shall cut straight through the hearts of society men when they come out.”
“Oh, please do not say so, Mr. Bingley,” said Mrs. Bennet, surprising them all. “I have only a few more precious years with my youngest daughters—I would not wish them to hurry into matrimony.”
It took no great discernment to note the members of the Bennet family present who exchanged glances bordering on hilarity.
Mrs. Bennet had always maintained the absolute necessity for her daughters to find good marriages and ensure their wellbeing, but it seemed she had changed with Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth, Jane and Bingley’s dance of courtship, and the looming end of Longbourn’s entail.
“Speaking of hurrying into matrimony,” said Darcy, “there appears to be little of that happening at present. Bingley, old chap, I might have thought you eager to take my example and hurry your lady to the altar.”
“To say it was hurried misses the mark, Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, “for as I recall, I endured wedding talk for almost a year, and then it was delayed anyway!”
“Ah, but in the end, it was most hurried,” retorted Darcy. “By my recollection, I appeared on your doorstep one fine spring morning and demanded to be married that very day!”
The company laughed, even Miss Bingley, who knew she had been at least part of the reason for their hasty nuptials, joining in the merriment.
“Aye, and for that I am forever grateful; it prevented me from enduring another week of such talk! Then again, when young Bingley here gets to the point, I must endure it.”
“I shall hear no complaint from you, Mr. Bennet,” was Mrs. Bennet’s prim reply. “If you consider it, when Jane is married, Mary will be next in line, and the younger girls will follow them soon. Why, I declare we may spend the next ten years in such talk!”
The look of utter horror that adorned Mr. Bennet’s face set them all into gales of mirth again. The man in question appeared ready to depart on the spot for the most remote place he could find in England, but then he ruined it by winking at Elizabeth.
“In response to your question,” said Bingley over the company’s merriment, “I am not in a rush. I am quite enjoying the chase.”
“What chase do you call it?” asked Elizabeth sotto voce . “My sister appears most willing to be caught.”
“Lizzy!” cried Miss Bennet, her cheeks the color of a ripe apple.
“Come now, Jane,” said Elizabeth, “do not suggest you are at all taken aback by this teasing. Unless I am much mistaken, you have enjoyed the chase as much as Mr. Bingley.”
“I hope so,” said Mr. Bingley, assuming a pitiful expression, “for your excellent sister would break my heart asunder if she claimed to remain unmoved by my struggle to please her.”
“There is no danger of that, Mr. Bingley. I know my sister like no one else—if she will not accept you this very moment should you choose to propose, I will eat my cap.”
The glare Jane directed at Elizabeth might have been fearsome coming from anyone else.
Jane Bennet was so mild and angelic that no one could mistake her for a lioness, though Darcy had seen her rise to defend Elizabeth, her dearest sister, when occasion demanded it.
Before anyone could speak another word, the four girls joined them, breathless and faces flushed with pleasure and exertion.
“Oh, this has been such fun!” exclaimed Lydia as she collapsed into a chair. “We have not had such a day as this since last summer at least!”
“I think we have had other times of enjoyment,” said Elizabeth, diverted by her sister’s declaration.
“We have, but we have not run or laughed with such abandon.”
“May we do it again, William?” asked Georgiana. “Pemberley has long been a house of solemnity—I think my father and brother would love to know it has become a place of laughter again.”
“Of course, we can,” replied Darcy with a smile for his young ward.
“Perhaps not every day ,” said Bingley. “I echo my sister’s sentiments—while I am yet a young man, I cannot keep up with young ladies determined to run about.”
“This was a means of releasing pent-up restlessness,” said Mary, showing unusual perspicacity. “The next time, I doubt we will be so eager to run.”
Kitty, Georgiana, and Lydia exchanged glances and burst into laughter, exclaiming together in sing-song voices: “Do not be too certain of that!”
Mary did nothing more than smile at her sisters and shake her head.
If Darcy were to guess, straightlaced Mary would not be so carefree as she was that day the next time they ventured out of doors.
On the other hand, he thought it as likely as not that the girls would pull her in, unwilling or not, and Mary would not protest much.
It was some time before they entered the house, for they remained in the summer’s warmth, speaking of many things of little consequence.
In time, the younger girls again rose, though this time their games consisted of more sedate activities such as horseshoes or pall mall.
Their laughter still echoed off the house, filling them all with the joy of the occasion.
At length, they entered the house in time to prepare for the evening meal, which was a simple affair.
They did not remain long in the sitting-room after dinner, for the girls, so energetic during the day, now showed signs of fatigue from their exertions.
Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Darcy rousted them from their languor, chivvying them up the stairs to retire early, and before long, the entire company made their way to their bedchambers.
“I agree with Lydia,” said Elizabeth when they were ensconced in their quarters, the house falling into the silence of the oncoming night. “Today was so enjoyable that I believe we should do it more often.”
“With that, I cannot disagree, my love,” said Darcy, pulling her close to him. “It is wonderful to have our families so close at hand.”
Elizabeth turned in his arms to regard him, one eyebrow raised in apparent disbelief. “Would you not prefer to have Pemberley to ourselves?”
Again, Darcy pulled her against his chest, playing with a lock of hair escaped from her loose braid.
“While I would never object to time alone with you, it is lovely to have all the family with us. We may eschew the company altogether, for Pemberley is large enough to accommodate it whenever we wish.”
A sigh was her response as she settled in close to him. “Netherfield is a handsome estate, William, but Pemberley is something else entirely. I do not rejoice in the death of a good man, but I now love Pemberley as much as I ever loved Hertfordshire.”
The click of a latch interrupted their conversation, and Darcy looked about, wondering if he was hearing sounds that did not exist. Then, before his astonished eyes, a section of wall behind a bookshelf swung forward, and a man appeared in the gloom, stepping into the room. In his hand, he held a pistol.