The Pemberley Chronicles Read online

  Still, there was anxiety perhaps from the lack of an example of a happy marriage at home, for though they rarely spoke of it, Jane and Elizabeth knew that their parents’ lack of mutual respect and understanding and their obvious incompatibility had made for a very poor sort of marriage. Both sisters had been determined never to fall into such a trap, however well baited it may be. Elizabeth remembered her aunt’s sage advice, when she had thought—nay feared—that Lizzie might be falling in love with Wickham. A cold shiver passed through her at the thought of her escape.

  Jane’s happiness and her confidence in the love she had found with Charles Bingley spilled across the pages of her letter:

  My dear Sister, I want so much to set your heart at rest on my behalf. I have been so blessed that I have no doubts at all and indeed I wonder at my ever having had them. Mr Bingley has made me so happy. Lizzie, I am the happiest person in the world!

  Once more, Elizabeth laughed, this time softly and indulgently, as her mind slid gently on to the subject of her own marriage and the happiness she and Mr Darcy were finding each day they spent together. The letter fell to the floor, as she gazed out at the distant horizon across the river, letting her thoughts follow. It was in this pleasant reverie that Darcy found her when he returned from his walk.

  On reading Jane’s letter, he understood her mood and was happy to match it for the rest of the evening. As on previous occasions, when they had been alone together, neither needed to say very much to express feelings deeply held: sensations that Darcy had struggled for months to overcome and Elizabeth had not known she could feel. Yet, now, as they discovered their need for each other, they flowed easily and naturally. As always, there was a mixture of passion and playfulness between them; of laughter and love, which would ensure that theirs would be an ardour free of the cloying effects of excess. Elizabeth’s excellent sense of humour and Darcy’s quiet dignity would always lighten and balance their marriage.

  Elizabeth decided to postpone her reply to Jane for a day or two. She wanted time to absorb and enjoy the experiences she was sharing with her husband. She did not feel capable of putting her present emotions on paper; she could barely

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  express them to the man she loved so much and then only with some degree of shyness and much loving encouragement. She longed to share her joy with her beloved sister but wanted more time to hold it close to her own heart first.

  J

  Clifton and its salubrious environs afforded Elizabeth and Darcy many hours of entertainment. Having visited many more castles—old and new, some in the strange pseudo-Gothic style—than either of them had hoped to see in their lives, they decided they would see no more but would enjoy a leisurely drive through the West Country. They stopped at Kingsweston to admire the exquisite prospect stretching across three counties, broke journey at Cheltenham, and then proceeded to cross the border into what was for Elizabeth new, uncharted territory amongst the mountains and valleys of Wales.

  The wildness of the Welsh landscape, at times almost over-powering, added a new dimension to their enjoyment. Travelling slowly, without the pressure of timetables, Darcy and Elizabeth found time and solitude conducive to their mood. That Darcy ardently and sincerely loved her, Elizabeth was left in no doubt. For her part, she was learning to enjoy being so deeply loved and found new excitement in falling more in love with a man she admired and esteemed. That this man was now her husband—a circumstance unthinkable a mere six months ago—made her smile.

  More and more she longed for the days when they would be at Pemberley together, the environment in which she was sure they would find the greatest happiness, where their dearest wishes could be fulfilled. As they travelled, they had talked of their future plans, and Darcy made it very clear to Elizabeth that she would be Mistress of Pemberley in her own right and should feel quite comfortable with her role. He invited her to talk with Mrs Reynolds and suggest what changes she felt were needed. “You must feel free to suggest whatever you decide is appropriate, Lizzie, because Pemberley is your home now, and I shall depend on you to tell me what needs to be done to improve it.”

  It was of no use to protest that there appeared to be very little that needed improving in such a gracious dwelling. Darcy would reply with a degree of reasonableness that there was always something that needed improvement.

  Darcy was finding that he was enjoying more and more the lightness and humour that Lizzie constantly brought into their life together. Almost in spite of himself, he enjoyed her teasing ways and often found himself responding in like manner. As he later confessed to Bingley, Lizzie was clever enough to balance playfulness and gravity with ease, never overdoing one or the other, and her keen sensibility told exactly how far she could go, never embarrassing her husband in any way. While this was new to Darcy, it had also brought an element of fun and liveliness into his life, which had been too serious for too long. Since his father’s death, he had carried all the responsibilities of his family, and it had left very little time for the lighter side of life. He was almost thirty years of age and determined that the next decade of his life was going to be a good deal more interesting than the last. With Elizabeth at his side, he was sure this would be easily achieved.

  Before leaving for London, Lizzie wrote to Jane with news of all the fascinating places they had visited and yet could not hide her longing to see her sister:

  I would have written before, dear Jane, but for the reluctance I felt to put pen to paper, knowing we were still weeks away from seeing you. Now we are but five days from being in London, I can write and know that there will be but a day or two at most from the moment this letter is in your hands to the time we shall see you again. Can it be five weeks since we left Longbourn? You and Mr Bingley to speed to the excitement of London, while Mr. Darcy and I have wandered through several counties—at a most leisurely pace. And yet, from your letter and my own feelings there appears to be no difference in the degree of our happiness. Pray, dearest Jane, that it will be ever thus.

  Elizabeth explained that Mr Darcy had business in London, which involved both Bingley and their Uncle Gardiner. He had suggested that the ladies might take in the theatre and the London shops and perhaps, a soirée at one of London’s salons.

  I cannot tell you how highly Mr Darcy rates the advice he seeks from our Uncle Gardiner. This, dear sister, is especially pleasing to me, because I already knew that he liked both our Uncle and Aunt exceedingly well, ever since our chance meeting at Pemberley, last Summer. However, to know that he would seek them out for advice, denotes a new level of regard, not at all a part of his desire to please me.

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  His appreciation of Mr Gardiner’s experience and judgement and Mrs Gardiner’s good taste and subtle gentility had endeared Darcy to her quite early in their courtship. This new evidence of his respect only strengthened her esteem and love for him.

  The letter she had received from Mrs Gardiner had remained unanswered until they were two days from London, since plans had already been agreed between them to dine with the Gardiners. Writing a short note, which Darcy arranged to send by express with some papers for her uncle, Lizzie entreated her aunt to forgive her for not writing more fully, but promised that there would be many hours to spend together, while their husbands attended to business, when the three of them would scarcely catch breath for all the news they would have to impart to each other:

  I promise you, my dearest Aunt, that Jane and I will be at your command—it will be almost like it was before last Summer. Oh, how much has happened since then! Mr Darcy and I look forward most eagerly to being with you very soon. He sends his love to all of you.

  Your loving niece, Lizzie.

  THE PEMBERLEY CHRONICLES

  Part One

  CHAPTER ONE

  Reunions

  S

  INCE HER MARRIAGE TO Mr Darcy some seven weeks ago, Elizabeth had wanted for nothing to complete her happiness, unless it was a chance to see her sister Jane again. Which is
why her excitement increased

  markedly as they drove into London and around mid-morning found themselves approaching Mr Bingley’s house in Grosvenor Street. Her husband could not conceal his amusement, as she cried out, “There they are!” like a little girl on her first visit to the city. As the carriage pulled up, she could barely wait to be helped out, before she flung herself into the welcoming arms of her sister.

  Charles Bingley, who had been waiting beside Jane, smiled broadly as he exchanged greetings with Darcy, now his brother-in-law. They waited for the sisters to break from their warm and tearful embrace, the men’s expressions of indulgent affection mixed with a degree of helplessness. It was Mr Bingley who intervened as the servants unloaded the travellers’ trunks onto the footpath. Putting a solicitous arm around his wife and her sister, he said, “Shall we go indoors and let the luggage be taken upstairs?” He led them indoors, while Darcy followed, carrying Elizabeth’s silk shawl, which had slipped off her shoulders as the sisters embraced.

  They passed from the open hall into the comfort of a warm, pleasant room, where a fire crackled in the grate and a sideboard with an ample array of food and drink welcomed the travellers. While the gentlemen helped themselves to sherry and warmed themselves in front of the fire, Jane and Lizzie escaped upstairs, ostensibly so that Lizzie could divest herself of her travelling clothes and boots.

  There was nothing the sisters wanted more than the privacy of a bedroom, where they hugged and kissed again as the words tumbled out, with neither able to wait for the other to finish a sentence. There was mutual acknowledgement that they had missed each other, they were both blissfully happy, they had the best husbands in the world, and they wished everyone could be as blessed as they were. The only matter upon which they could not agree was the question of which of them was the happier.

  There was so much to tell, but it had to wait awhile; Jane promised they would have the afternoon to themselves as Bingley had planned to take Darcy out to his club to meet mutual friends.

  Coming downstairs, they found Georgiana Darcy and Mrs Annesley come to call; they were staying in town at Mr Darcy’s elegant townhouse in Portman Square and had been invited over by Jane to meet the returning couple. Georgiana, whose love for her brother was matched only by her devotion to her sister-in-law, whom she regarded as the sister she had always longed for, greeted Elizabeth with warmth and affection. Jane, looking on, wished she too could feel the same confidence of gaining the affection and approval of her in-laws, Caroline Bingley and Mrs Hurst. She felt not a little sadness as she saw the obvious satisfaction that Darcy felt as Lizzie and Georgiana embraced and talked together for all the world like loving sisters.

  But, being Jane, she soon shook herself free of any trace of melancholy, as her husband came to her side and whispered, “I’ve arranged to take Georgiana and Mrs Annesley back to Portman Square, after which Darcy and I will go on to Brooks for an hour or two—that should give you and Lizzie plenty of time together. How would you like that, my love?” Jane replied that she would like it very much indeed and added her heartfelt thanks to her husband, whose sensitivity was a source of constant pleasure. As she said later to Lizzie, “I can hardly believe that he is so good and kind a man and yet preferred me above all others, knowing he could quite easily have had any of a dozen young ladies of greater substance and standing than myself.” To which, Lizzie’s reply was a reproachful reminder to her sister not to let her natural modesty trap her into undervaluing herself.

  “For there is no one I know with a nature as good or a disposition as sweet as yours. Believe me, Jane, Mr Bingley is well aware of it and is considered, by his friends, to be a singularly fortunate man.”

  Earlier, they had partaken of a light luncheon of fresh rolls, sliced ham, cheese, and fruit, with tea, hot chocolate, or wine, as desired, before Georgiana and her companion left with the two gentlemen, who promised to be back in time for dinner. As the servants cleared away the remains of the repast, the two sisters returned upstairs to the comfort of Jane’s boudoir to spend the rest of the afternoon in the kind of happy exchange of news and views that only two loving friends—both newly wed and blissfully happy—could hope to enjoy. Unhappily, the news from Longbourn was not good. Mrs Bennet, whose health was never the best, had not been well, having suffered from exhaustion after giving away two of her daughters at once. Their father, in his last letter to Jane, had asked that Lizzie be permitted to complete her travels undisturbed by this news.

  “You know how it is, poor Mama will insist on having everyone over for Christmas; but this year, Lizzie, your kind invitation to us and Uncle and Aunt Gardiner to spend Christmas at Pemberley has relieved Mama of the strain. Because she cannot undertake the journey to Derbyshire, Papa has decided that he will remain with her at Longbourn, while Mary and Kitty will travel North with Aunt Gardiner,” Jane explained. At this piece of bad news, Lizzie cried out, for she had been hoping so much to have her father at Pemberley, because she wanted him to see how happy she really was, especially in view of the doubts he had expressed at the time of Mr Darcy’s proposal of marriage.

  Jane offered some comfort, “Lizzie, Mr Bingley and I have talked about this. We knew how disappointed you would be if Papa could not be with you, so we have a plan. How would it be if Mr Bingley and I returned home at the New Year and had Mama to stay at Netherfield, so Papa could come to you for a few weeks?”

  “Has he agreed to this?” asked her sister, somewhat surprised. “Not yet, but we think he will, if Mr Darcy will ask him, tomorrow,” said Jane. “Tomorrow?” Lizzie was astonished and more so when Jane replied, “He is to be at Aunt Gardiner’s where, you will remember, we are all asked to dine tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth’s pleasure at the news that she would see her father sooner than expected was much enhanced by the realisation that her sister Jane had gained in marriage a totally new confidence. If there was one criticism that could have been made against Jane, for all her sweetness of nature and strength of character, it was a diffidence—a reluctance to make judgements. To Elizabeth, it seemed as if this tiny flaw, if one could call it that, had disappeared since her marriage to Mr Bingley. However, she said nothing, not wanting to embarrass her sister. Besides there was so much to talk of their new lives, their husbands, their travels and so much love and happiness, that they quite forgot the time, until a maid ran upstairs to tell them the gentlemen were back.

  Lizzie wished to bathe before dressing for dinner, and the luxury of a hot bath scented with lavender oils, prepared for her by Jane’s maid, reminded her that this was London and not the inns of Gloucestershire or Wales, which, despite their charm, had been less than modern in their toilet facilities.

  When they joined the gentlemen downstairs, they found there, to their surprise, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had not been heard from since their weddings, when he had carried out his duties as Darcy’s groomsman with aplomb.

  Having greeted both sisters with affection and expressed satisfaction at finding them looking so well, he let Bingley explain his presence. “We found him at the club, where he has been staying all week,” said Bingley, which led Jane to protest that he should have come to them.

  “You could have stayed here, we have many empty rooms.”

  “I did not wish to intrude,” Fitzwilliam said apologetically, “and I had no idea when Darcy and Elizabeth were expected.”

  “Well, you are here now, and you must stay,” said Bingley firmly, as if that was the end of the matter, “until your ship is to sail.” Amid cries of astonishment from the ladies of “What ship?” and “Where is he sailing to?” Fitzwilliam explained that he’d been at a loose end after the end of the war with France, and when he was offered a berth on a ship going to the new colonies of Ceylon and India, he had accepted. “That’s the other side of the world!” said Jane, but Fitzwilliam assured her it was opening up fast and many people were going out there.

  “I wanted a change of scene,” he added by way of explanation.

/>   It was an explanation Jane did not fully accept. Later that night, she reminded her sister that it was Charlotte’s opinion that Fitzwilliam had been very partial to her, when they had been at Rosings last year, before Mr Darcy entered the picture. Elizabeth laughed and brushed it aside as a rumour, mainly a product of young Maria Lucas’ romantic imagination. Fitzwilliam had left promising to return the following day to go with them to the Gardiners, to whom also he wished to say his farewells.

  As they went to bed that night, Darcy and Elizabeth both agreed on the remarkable change in Jane since her marriage. It was a change Darcy welcomed for her sake and that of his friend, Bingley. “She will make him a stronger and better wife, and that will make him a stronger and better man,” he said, adding more gently, “it was an aspect of your beautiful sister I used to worry about, my love, because I knew how important it was for Bingley.” Ever ready to tease her husband, Elizabeth asked if he’d had any doubts about her own strength, to which Darcy replied firmly, “None at all, because, my dearest, you never left me in any doubt right from the start. Indeed, it was what I first admired in you, apart from your beautiful eyes, of course.”

  So pleased was his wife with this response that she stopped teasing and relaxed into the gentleness that she knew he loved. Darcy had never doubted his own feelings; Lizzie wanted him to have no doubt at all of hers. On such openheartedness was their marriage founded that concealment or archness was unthinkable.