Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley (53 page)

The invitees began arriving around five that evening. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy greeted each one under a flower-laden pergola erected beyond the terrace on the southern side of the Manor. Designated as the reception area, the wide arbor opened onto the vast grasses surrounding the trout lake with shooting fountains. In keeping with the informal, fun atmosphere, Darcy and Lizzy wore understated outfits carefully chosen to not intimidate yet maintain their status as Master and Mistress. Marguerite dressed Elizabeth's hair in a simple chignon and Samuel insisted on trimming Darcy's hair so he did not look so disreputable.

Between the two, they remembered nearly every person's name. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Taylor, as the senior staff members, stood nearby to assist with the greetings, aiding Darcy and Lizzy with those folks they did not know. The enormous quantity of people employed in some capacity or another overwhelmed even Darcy's extreme mental faculty.

The children were immediately directed to the play zones, games of all sorts in progress. Dr. Darcy, dressed in a truly marvelous khalat of vivid fuchsia silk with the edges detailed in silver, had voluntarily stationed himself at the children's area. One glance at the tall, lanky man in the bright flowing dress with beaming smile, and the children squealed in delight. He joined right in, leading groups in competitions of blind man's bluff and Mother, may I.

"He is the biggest child among them," Darcy whispered to his wife.

Lizzy giggled, turning to the next person in line. It was a tall man, vaguely familiar, but Lizzy could not immediately place him until she noted the adolescent at his side. "Caleb!" she declared, turning then to the handsome man beside his son. "Phillips, forgive me. I did not recognize you without your livery and wig. Welcome to the Festival. This must be your wife?"

Phillips bowed regally, his lack of his dress uniform not inhibiting his proper manners or stateliness. "Mrs. Darcy, allow me to introduce my wife, Doris Phillips."

Phillips was not the first footman Lizzy had difficulty recognizing, although now that she expected it, she knew to mentally erase the powdered wig to form a picture. It was interesting to view the familiar staff in their casual garb, laughing and conversing with ease. Samuel and Marguerite appeared arm in arm, proper and reticent although eventually they did relax enough for Samuel to overcome his numbing bashfulness to dance with his fiancee.

For over an hour the wagons and carriages rambled along the drive. The harsh August sun was low on the horizon, yet still delivering scorching beams of heat. Children, of course, seem impervious to the heat so embraced the entertainment with all the enthusiasm of youth. The adults were not as resilient, retreating to the relative cool offered by the shady tents located near the water, fans fluttering crazily. Nonetheless, they ate and drank, communing with friends, laughing and flirting. Steady streams of heaping platters of food were forthcoming from the kitchens to replenish the emptied ones. Jugs of lemonade and cold tea were continually refilled.

Reverend and Mrs. Bertram arrived with the orphans. Clustered in hand-holding groups as they walked down the drive, the children stared at the massive house in wide-eyed awe. The enthusiastic welcome of Mrs. Darcy, their cheerful patroness who always displayed affection and brought lovely treats, eased their nervousness. Within minutes, they too were scampering with George Darcy and the other children, playing games and winning prizes just like all the fortunate ones with families.

Perceptive to the fact that the tenants and employees would likely better enjoy themselves if the Master and Mistress were not uncomfortably close, Lizzy had set up a shady secluded area on the terrace for the inhabitants of Pemberley. Aside from Dr. Darcy, the others reclined in comfort. Darcy and Lizzy joined them, taking their seats with sighs of relief. Lizzy poured lemonade for herself and her husband while Darcy motioned to a waiting maid to serve dinner.

"I never realized there were so many people working at Pemberley," Georgiana said in awe, observing the mingling crowds on the grass. "When we visited the tenant cottages before Christmas, Elizabeth, it did not seem like so many."

Darcy smiled. "There are many more besides the tenants, Georgie."

Anne suddenly laughed aloud, interrupting Darcy's explanation. "Dr. Darcy is playing hopscotch!" All eyes pivoted to the far field where George could easily be seen in his bright robe, hopping through the grid with a score of clapping children cheering him on.

Dr. Penaflor rose to stand next to Anne, laughing at the spectacle. "Children love George. Even when horribly ill he cheers them, finding ways to make them laugh. It seems a shame that he has none of his own, but then, perhaps God knew he was needed to love them all." He turned and smiled at Anne, eyes meeting for a time before Anne blushed and lowered her gaze.

"Well, it is cute I suppose, but he should remember he is uncle to the Master of Pemberley," Caroline said primly. "A whit of decorum is expected, after all."

Raul laughed. "I am afraid, Miss Bingley, that Dr. Darcy does not take such things very seriously."

"All those years amongst the savages, I suspect," she continued. "What a shame."

Charles looked at his sister with slight anger. "I rather think he would disagree in your assessment of them being savages, Caroline, or that it is a shame to have dwelt among them. Having never met an Indian, you should defer your hastily rendered judgment."

"Besides," Darcy spoke quietly, serenely cutting his meat and not looking at Caroline, "the Master of Pemberley takes no issue with his uncle's antics and is actually planning on joining the fun once dinner is finished. Will you accompany me, Mrs. Darcy, for the egg race?"

Lizzy smiled. "I would be honored, Mr. Darcy."

"I am anticipating the dancing," Kitty chimed in. "When will the orchestra play, Lizzy?"

"After dark."

"You will dance, will you not Georgiana?" Kitty begged. "Please?"

Georgiana blushed, glancing to her brother. "I do not think so, Kitty. I have not had my coming out and have never danced formally."

"Why, Georgie! You wound me," Richard declared dramatically. "Miss Bennet has agreed to dance with me as has Cousin Anne, so you must as well. The night will not be complete!" Georgiana paled, mutely pleading with her brother.

Darcy chuckled. "Do not turn to me for saving, baby sister. Colonel Fitzwilliam is an equal guardian, thus if he wishes to dance with you, I have no say in the matter. You can refuse, of course, but he will be devastated. He may cry."

"You see, Georgiana! I told you it would be all right. With all the available gentlemen about, we can dance every set, all night long!" Kitty clapped her hands in glee.

"I regret that I must exert my authority at this point, Miss Kitty," Darcy said softly. "It would not be appropriate for Miss Darcy or you to dance with any beyond the immediate members of the household. Do not fear," he said, smiling gently to ease the blow, "there are plenty of us to go around."

As the dinner hour drew to its completion, dusk was approaching and the groundsmen initiated the time consuming task of lighting the numerous lanterns dispersed about the lawns. Darcy lent his arm to Lizzy, leading the Pemberley residents into the crowd and toward the roped off sections of the yard. It was now nearly time for the scheduled performances to begin.

First, however, Lizzy led her husband to the children's arena. Darcy faltered a bit, in truth having blurted the whole "egg race" comment just to irritate Caroline Bingley. His wife, on the other hand, took him at his word. All thirty-three of the orphans released squeals of delight when she entered the cordoned play zone. They adored their patroness, rushing her en masse to cluster about her legs and clamor for attention. Darcy kept a grip on her elbow, fearful that she would topple over in their enthusiasm. Naturally, his close proximity meant that they also bustled about his legs, not sure what to make of the gigantic, silent man, but in the typical innocence of youth deciding that if he was with Mrs. Darcy then he must be tolerable.

Lizzy laughed, bending and attempting to hug all of them while bestowing kisses and hair tousles. Darcy watched her obvious delight with rising pleasure, beginning to relax into the unusual situation when suddenly his attention was captured by a firm tug on his trousers. He glanced down into the tiny, serious face of a boy of perhaps three. He was staring at Darcy with great intensity, his sandy hair combed into a perfect slick bowl except for a swirl to the crown which stuck straight up. His eyes were huge, colored a lovely green with gold flecks, and he solemnly studied Darcy for several minutes, apparently eventually deciding the big fellow was safe enough as he abruptly lifted his chubby arms and reached toward the stunned man. Without thinking, Darcy bent and picked the little boy into his arms, resting him naturally on his hip.

"Hello, lad," Darcy said, deep voice causing the boy's eyes to widen and thumb to implant between sucking lips. Still, he did not squirm and bravely examined his captor, reaching the other plump fingers to poke Darcy's nose then the cleft in his chin with avid curiosity. "Do you have a name, little one?"

"His name is Francis." It was Elizabeth, watching the drama with misty eyes and a broad smile. "He is the newest arrival. His mother died not two weeks ago and his father before he was born. We hope to settle him with an aunt who lives in Exeter."

"He is adorable," Darcy said, Francis continuing his study with pokes and soft pinches. "Does the aunt want him?"

"She is willing, yes, but the orphanage needs to arrange the funds for her to travel so far. I have given some of my pin money. I hope you do not mind, love..."

Darcy was shaking his head, gazing at the boy who yawned and then laid his head onto Darcy's shoulder, entire soft body relaxing as a warm rag into his chest. Darcy's breath caught, an intense surge of what could only be paternal emotion lancing his heart. He looked to Elizabeth, gruffly clearing his throat. "Whatever is needed I will provide. Tell them so, Elizabeth."

Darcy held the boy until he was soundly asleep, one of the orphanage staff women then taking him away. His arms felt strangely bereft, the need to touch his wife and their child overwhelming him. Lizzy was on the far side of the field, preparing the equipment for the egg race when Darcy snuck behind her, snaking one arm about her waist for a tender but brief hug and caress to her bulging belly. She twisted in his arms, planting a kiss to his chin with a smile. "Soon, my love," she whispered, patting his cheek. "Very soon we shall have him to hold. You will be an amazing father."

They did join the egg race, both Darcy and his uncle quite excellent, their natural grace and elegance evidenced in precise balance. Darcy drew the line at jumping rope himself, but he did twirl one end while the children, and Drs. Penaflor and Darcy took turns performing elaborate steps over the fast-spinning rope. Leaving George, Raul, and Anne to entertain the children, Darcy and Lizzy finally escaped.

Lizzy and her cohorts had conjured all kinds of ideas for entertainment, so enraptured with the various concepts that they attempted to do it all. Darcy had been frankly skeptical but had written to a number of people he knew, sending out requests for the skilled professionals required. To his amazement, most of what Lizzy dreamt up had been realized. Three unique offerings were scheduled for the bedazzlement of the assembly, each to be performed several times throughout the evening so all could watch in divided groupings.

Darcy was personally most thrilled by the equestrians to perform at the corral so steered his wife in that direction next. The success of Philip Astley's circus in London over the past thirty years had sparked a swarm of duplicators in traveling shows throughout England. Darcy hired a troupe with a stellar reputation that specialized in trick horseback riding. He had been to Astley's Amphitheatre dozens of times and had taken Elizabeth once while in London, never tiring of the astounding equestrian feats the riders executed. While he did not actually expect this group to be as proficient, he was praying for at least a moderate mastery.

Lizzy climbed the bottom rung of the fence, Darcy supporting her at the small of her back. They had missed the first performance. The riders and mounts needed time to rest in between sets, but Darcy had arranged for three sets to be played, allowing all guests time to view the other entertainments and not miss what he considered the highlight. With eyes shining, Lizzy laughing at his childlike exuberance, the act began.

Galloping wildly, a grey horse burst out the stable doors, a man dressed in flowing rags clutching frantically to the reins. His face was a study in absolute terror as he yelled and wailed, body bouncing crazily on the animal's bare back. Round and round the ring they flew, all the while the seemingly hysterical man clung to the horse and his hat. As they raced about, the rider began to flip and twist, always acting as if he was in a frenzy of terror and barely holding on. In time, the humor of it all hit the crowd as the man's actions turned from random and desperate to elegant and masterful. He flipped his body backwards, clinging to the horse's rump, hat flying off, and then proceeded to lift his legs straight into the air. With another abrupt swivel, he again faced forward, holding the reins with his feet while he casually removed the frayed jacket. Little by little, always while racing in circles and sitting sideways or steering with his teeth, articles of his threadbare clothing were discarded. Underneath, he wore a tight fitting garment of white with gold and silver sparkles interwoven.