Women of Pemberley (32 page)

It was left to her to arrange the program, which was something she enjoyed immensely. Together with Emily and Caroline, she had worked out the order of the items and arranged for the performers to be accommodated so they could practice before the festival.

"I am glad the choir is back from Bristol," said Emily. "I was afraid we weren't going to hear them at all this year. They've been so busy."
Caroline agreed that they would have missed the choir, which now performed at several venues and frequently won prizes in competitions. Occasionally, Elizabeth would have to remind herself that this was the choir that had started with a few children from the estate singing carols for her very first Christmas at Pemberley. Caroline, whose children were all very talented performers, remembered, too, and the cousins smiled as they recalled memories of those happy days. How much had happened in all their lives since then.
The centrepiece of the festival program was a recital by a group of singers from Coventry who had won national acclaim; but for the family, the highlight would be the performances of the two Courtney children, William and Elizabeth, and the young Matlock chamber music group. William was to play Chopin, for whose work he seemed to have a special gift, while Elizabeth, accompanied by her brother, would sing an aria from
The Marriage of Figaro
.
Mr Darcy came to remind them that Julian and Josie, who had arrived from London and stayed overnight with the Tates, were expected any time now.
Elizabeth smiled and reassured her husband, who seemed unusually anxious. "I had not forgotten, my dear," she said, as they went downstairs. "I am very pleased that they are going to be here for the festival. I think it will help Josie understand what Pemberley really means to all of us."
Darcy agreed, but he was less concerned than his wife was about young Josie Tate, knowing that Julian's own attachment to Pemberley would be the means of drawing her into its circle. "I am confident she will soon discover it, if she has not done so already," he said, recalling how easily Elizabeth had moved into her role as the Mistress of Pemberley, triumphing over those, like his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who had doubted that she would be worthy of the position.
The sound of a carriage drawing up at the front of the house heralded the arrival of the travellers, who were warmly received. Julian's pleasure in bringing his prospective bride home to Pemberley was plain to all, and Josie was especially delighted with the warmth of her welcome. Everything had been done to make her comfortable in what was to be her future home.
The day of the festival was fine but pleasantly cool, as early Autumn days are in Derbyshire, where the leaves turn to glowing gold and rust as the north wind begins to probe the woodlands and parks. Many of the performers had arrived and were accommodated in the nursery wing.
Elizabeth, having spent all morning downstairs attending to a myriad of things that simply had to be done, was feeling tired and, coming upstairs, rested awhile upon a couch in the sitting room, which overlooked her favourite corner of the park. She could see the servants bustling around making preparations for the evening, and Mr Darcy with Julian and Josie walking down to inspect the big marquee on the west lawn, where refreshments were to be served for everyone from the Pemberley estate before the performance.
She remembered how eagerly she had run to inspect all the arrangements, when they had first begun to hold the music festivals at Pemberley. How she had wanted everything to be just perfect. They had been very proud of her achievement. Musing upon those early days, she fell asleep.
She did not know how long she had been asleep, but she was awakened by the sound of the piano in the music room. She listened and realised that someone was playing the Mozart sonata that William had played on that Autumn day so many years ago. As the haunting
andante cantabile
flowed through the house, Elizabeth could not believe she was hearing it; she knew of no one who had played it since. Rising from her couch, she hurried down the corridor to the music room and, eager to discover the identity of the pianist, gently opened the door.
William Courtney leapt up from his seat at the pianoforte, "Aunt Lizzie, did I disturb you? I am sorry. I had no idea you were upstairs." He was most apologetic.
Elizabeth realised that William had come over to practice for the evening's performance, as he did quite often before a recital. The Courtneys did not have an instrument as fine as the one at Pemberley, and William had a permanent invitation to come in and play on it. Both Elizabeth and Darcy welcomed it.
She sought to reassure him. "Oh, no William, there is no need to apologise, not at all. I heard the music and I didn't know it was you. I was tired ... I must have dozed off and on awakening, I was surprised because I could not think who would be playing the Mozart ..."
She seemed puzzled, and he explained, "It is not part of my program for this evening. I had almost finished practising when I saw it lying on the music stand, and thought to try it out. It's beautiful, but maybe too difficult for me just yet."
She smiled, wondering how the music had come to be on the stand-- she could not remember seeing it there for years. "Would you like to play it ... I mean, as a concert piece?" she asked.
"Very much; it has a most haunting theme. But I shall have to practice long and hard. Look, let me show you how complex the
andante
is," he said as he sat down and played through a part of the second movement.
As he played Elizabeth recalled, more calmly this time, the enchanting slow movement that her William had played with a tenderness that was almost too much to bear. William Courtney was dark and taller than her son had been.
He finished the movement and came over to her. "Did you like it? I'm afraid I cannot do it justice without much more practice."
He was very modest, but she smiled and said, "You did very well, William. But if you wish to master it, please do come back and practice some more. You know you are always welcome."
The door opened and Darcy entered with William's sister, Elizabeth. "Ah, there you are, Lizzie. We have been looking everywhere for you. Elizabeth is here to practice for this evening."
"William has been playing for me," she said. "We shall leave you two to practice together.
"I am looking forward so much to this evening," she said as they went out.
Darcy guessed she had been moved deeply by William's playing. He could not avoid seeing the irony in their situation. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, solicitous as ever, but she reassured him she was perfectly well. Darcy had heard a part of the music William Courtney had been playing and recalled it vividly himself. It always stirred deep memories.
Elizabeth realised that he had heard it, too. "I was startled to hear it at first, but William said he had seen it lying on the music stand and wanted to try it. He plays it well." She did not say, "But not as well as our William." She did not need to. He knew exactly how she felt and was grateful she was no longer distressed by the music.
"Josie and Julian have gone up to the gallery," Darcy explained. "I understand Josie wanted to see your collection of miniatures."
Elizabeth was pleased. She had hoped Josie would take an interest in Pemberley and its treasures. Julian had hinted that Josie, eager to continue her career as a writer, was in no hurry to be married. Elizabeth was somewhat concerned, and though she did not wish to exaggerate her disquiet, she could not help voicing it. "Do you believe their feelings are deeply engaged? Are they strong and enduring enough to weather all that life will throw at them?" she asked anxiously. "I should be content if they were to settle upon a date. I can see they are in love, but I am concerned there is a lack of serious intention. Do you believe there is?"
Darcy's voice was quiet. "I certainly hope there is, with all my heart, but I cannot really tell. I am no judge of the inclinations of youth," he said.
Elizabeth challenged him, her voice teasing, "But surely, dearest, you are a good judge of feelings; can you not tell?"
Now he knew she was teasing him again. "No, truly I am not, Lizzie, and you know it. I never even knew how well I loved you and when I did discover it, the manner of my approach to you was so reprehensible that I was certain I had made you hate me. No, I am quite hopeless at making such judgements," he confessed ruefully.
This time, she laughed out loud and took his hand. "I do recall something to that effect; though in these matters, my memory is, fortunately, far from reliable! But, surely, you can have no doubts on that score now?" she asked as they went out into the garden.
"No, indeed, and I doubt there is cause for anxiety regarding Julian and Josie either," he replied with a smile that transformed his serious face.
Everything was in readiness. The weather had cleared to a perfect evening, and Pemberley looked spectacular in the late afternoon sun. Soon, it would be time to dress for the performance.
Julian and Josie came out of the house and walked towards them. They met at the foot of the stone steps leading to the rose garden and Julian said very quickly, "Mama, we have something to tell you and Papa. Josie and I have decided that we would like to be married in the Spring."
Elizabeth was delighted. As they kissed and embraced one another, of their happiness there could be no doubt at all.
There were dozens of questions Elizabeth wanted to ask, but she well knew that this was not the moment; there would be many days and weeks ahead and plenty of time for all that. For the moment, there was little need for words, except to express their heartfelt joy. She had been anxious that Josie's reluctance to be married sooner rather than later represented a lack of seriousness; the news just received and the happiness of the young lovers had set her heart at rest on that score.
As they walked through the rose garden towards the house, the delightful sounds of the young chamber music group practising for the evening's performance drifted out through the open French windows and across the lawns. Julian and Josie went indoors; Elizabeth took her husband's arm, and they walked around to the front of the house.
"There, Lizzie, are you content now?" Darcy asked gently.
Elizabeth smiled. "Yes," she said, "perfectly content."

HE WEDDINGS ARE OVER
. There are rose petals everywhere. Jane and Elizabeth have seen their two youngest children married on a fine Spring morning in the year 1859: Louisa Bingley to Dr

Matthew Ward, the scientist in charge of the research laboratory at the new Matlock hospital, and Julian Darcy to Josie, the only daughter of Anthony Tate and his wife Rebecca.

Emma Wilson's two daughters, Victoria and Stephanie, are bridesmaids and, like most bridesmaids, seem to attract even more comment than the brides.

The two sisters, Jane and Elizabeth, are almost inseparable these days, and together with their husbands, who continue to be close friends as well as business partners, enjoy an intimate and affectionate relationship. As they stood together on the terrace at Pemberley, watching the large party of friends and relations greet the newly wedded couples, they were joined by Charlotte Collins, Josie's grandmother and Elizabeth's closest friend. The weddings had brought them together again, reviving memories of the way they had been in Hertfordshire, many years ago.

With the last of his daughters married, Bingley was in a light-hearted mood. "It will be your turn next," he said to Emma and James Wilson. "I cannot honestly remember an occasion, since we went to Netherfield and met the beautiful Bennet girls, on which I have heard so many compliments for two young women as I have heard today for young Victoria and Stephanie. I am sure it will not be long before you have their suitors beating a path to your door."

Both Emma and James laughed. "Oh dear, I do believe you are exaggerating, Papa," said Emma modestly. "I acknowledge they are pretty and they are both accomplished and very well taught, but anyone who expects them to wed in a hurry is bound to be disappointed. Vicky is eager to complete her studies in music. As for Stephanie, who is not yet seventeen, her schoolmistress, Mrs Harris, informs me that Stephanie is her brightest pupil. She excels in Literature and History." Having had an education at one of the best ladies' seminaries herself, Emma had always encouraged her daughters to read widely. It was plain that Emma, unlike her infamous grandmother Mrs Bennet, was in no hurry to be rid of her daughters.

The wedded couples having finally got away, the rest of the guests wandered around Pemberley's beautiful grounds while they waited for their carriages. As they departed and the servants began to clear away the remains of the wedding feast, the family moved indoors.

The Tates, Anthony and Rebecca, now bound to Pemberley by the strongest of family ties as well as friendship, joined them in the drawing room.
An hour or so later, Charlotte bade her dear friends farewell. "I must leave, Eliza. I am to stay with Rebecca and Anthony for a week or two, while Mary goes to Ashford Park with Jane and Mr Bingley," she said, and as the two women embraced, it was hard for both to hold back the tears.
They had grown up together and, despite occasional disagreements, had remained faithful friends, now brought even closer through the marriage of Josie and Julian. Charlotte was surely aware of the ironies that surrounded this happy event, for it had been through the Bennets that she had met and married their cousin, Mr Collins. Later, her invitation to Elizabeth had led to the meetings with Mr Darcy at Rosings, where the feelings he believed he had successfully suppressed at Netherfield had been rekindled and had led ultimately to their engagement.
Elizabeth was certainly sensitive to them, and while she gave no sign of it to her friend as they said goodbye, when she went upstairs with Jane and her Aunt Gardiner to take tea in her sitting room, there was no shortage of amusing comment on the subject.
Ever the romantic, Jane could not resist the attraction of an incipient love affair in their circle. "Lizzie, I am sure Amy Fitzwilliam will be the next bride in the family; she is so much like Caroline used to be. I did notice she had several admirers today, including young Mr Grantley."
Mrs Gardiner, who was Amy's grandmother, agreed she was indeed a beauty, much as her mother had been, but added, "I think there may have been some disappointment there, Jane, for while I cannot vouch for it, I have felt that Amy had a soft spot in her heart for Julian."
"Now there would have been a match after Mama's heart, God bless her soul," cried Elizabeth, pouring out the tea, "and if I were to be absolutely honest, I would have to admit to being quite partial to young Amy myself. She is not only beautiful, but though she is just eighteen, she shows remarkable intelligence and good sense. She also works very willingly for the community at both the parish school and the library. You might say a daughter-in-law after my own heart, in fact."
"Would you have preferred it, Lizzie?" asked her sister.
Elizabeth answered, with a degree of circumspection, "I cannot deny that I had hoped Julian might have been interested, but sadly, it was not to be. Since last Christmas, he has had eyes for no one but Josie, who we must acknowledge has a good deal more to say for herself, though she is nowhere near as pretty as Amy. Darcy believes she and Julian are well suited," she said. "Poor Mama, can you imagine how angry she must be at Charlotte's granddaughter marrying her grandson? She was barely civil to Charlotte when she became engaged to Mr Collins, and so desperately did she fear that the Collinses would throw us out of Longbourn, that she never invited them back after they were married. Oh Jane, what complaint we would have had to endure, had Mama lived to see this wedding day?"
"Mercifully, she was spared having to see my Jonathan marry AmeliaJane," said her sister, recalling Mrs Bennet's plans for her grandchildren. "She was quite determined that Jonathan should marry into a county family, at the very least. She would never have been satisfied with a mere clergyman's daughter!"
"Especially if that clergyman happened to be the reviled Mr Collins!" said Elizabeth, warming to her subject.
Mrs Gardiner reminded them that their mother was not always wrong. "And yet, Jane, it must be acknowledged that in your case at least your Mama was absolutely right," she said.
"Indeed, she was," said Elizabeth brightly. "Dear Bingley had hardly set foot in the county before she determined that he was going to marry one of her girls, and soon there was no doubt at all which of us it would be. 'Oh, I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing, Jane,'" she said, mimicking Mrs Bennet, whose dearest wish had come true when Bingley and Jane became engaged.
Jane blushed at the memory, even after all these years. "But Lizzie, you cannot pretend that she was not equally pleased by your engagement to Darcy," she said and Lizzie's riposte was swift.
"No, indeed, she was completely overwhelmed, even though she had, only that afternoon, commiserated with me for having had to put up with 'that disagreeable man' for two days in a row, while begging me to remember it was all for your sake, Jane."
Jane did not mind being teased, but preferred to divert attention to her sister-in-law. "Lizzie, how do you suppose Caroline Bingley must feel about Charlotte's daughter marrying Mr Darcy's son?" she asked with a degree of mock innocence that Elizabeth found vastly amusing.
"Oh, Jane, you are quite right to be concerned. Among the denizens of Bath, there must have been great outrage! The very thought that the shades of Pemberley could be even further polluted must have brought on an attack of the vapours," said Elizabeth mischievously. "We were not at all surprised that neither the Hursts nor Miss Bingley could make the journey for the wedding. Lady Catherine is genuinely unwell, and Mr Hurst's gout must present a problem, but Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley must surely have had no good reason except snobbery. They were so unforgivably rude to both Charlotte and Sir William Lucas that it must be mortifying indeed for Caroline, who once had high hopes for herself, to acknowledge that young Josie will one day be the Mistress of Pemberley."
Jane and Mrs Gardiner could only agree.
There were so many happy memories to recall that the afternoon was spent in the greatest merriment. Content in their own marriages, which had brought them both love and happiness, while enhancing considerably their well-being and material security, they needed only to pray that their hopes for their children would be similarly fulfilled.
Jane had known the agony of seeing a daughter suffer the pain of an unhappy marriage. "My greatest joy, Lizzie, is that Emma is now happily settled with James. I had always thought well of him, but since they have been married, he has proved to be quite the best man I have known since Bingley and your dear Darcy, of course. He has so remarkably changed their lives, there is not even the faintest shadow left of her former unhappiness."
As Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner nodded agreement, Jane continued, "You were so fortunate with Cassy and Richard."
Elizabeth agreed readily. "Indeed, we were. There is not another man in the world to whom we could have entrusted her with so much confidence. There is so much joy in their home that Julian declares there should be a tax upon it!"
Their laughter reflected their own contentment, yet their aunt reminded them that there were those for whom there was little certainty of happiness, since marriage had become something of a lottery for many young women, with or without fortune.
"Why, only last week, my brother's wife told me of a most miserable situation in which a very respectable young woman from Staffordshire finds herself trapped in a terrible marriage with a feckless husband who will do nothing to support his family. Since he has run through her fortune, she must beg for help from her relatives to feed her children. Our daughters have been spared such privation," she declared.
"Except for poor Lydia," said Jane, whose soft heart would not let her forget her errant sister, whose unfortunate alliance with Mr Wickham, compounded by their subsequent stupidity, had turned them into an embarrassment and virtually cut her off from the rest of her family, except when she needed their help.
Elizabeth was more severe. "Poor Lydia's problems are largely of her own making, Jane. She leapt into an affair with Wickham having no thought for the consequences, and their contrived marriage seems to have done nothing to improve the characters of either Lydia or her husband," she declared.
Mrs Gardiner appeared to agree and more may have been said on the subject, but Robert's appearance at the door curtailed the discussion. Robert had arrived to take his mother home. Mr Gardiner had been weakened by illness recently and could not stay out too late. Mrs Gardiner, ever conscious of her husband's comfort, prepared to leave at once, but not before she thanked her niece and through her Mr Darcy for his kindness to Mr Gardiner.
"Dear Lizzie, please do not forget to thank your husband for his kindness. His concern for your uncle is deeply appreciated."
After they had gone, Jane turned to her sister. "Lizzie, I could not ask you in the presence of Aunt Gardiner, but I do worry about our uncle," she said, her eyes expressing her concern.
Elizabeth concurred. "He is weaker since his last illness, and our aunt is very concerned, but Richard has had the best physicians from London examine him and they can find very little wrong with him. His mind is as alert as ever, and Darcy, who spends some time with him each week, declares that he cannot see any deterioration in his faculties at all," she said.
Jane looked grave. "Aunt Gardiner is very grateful to him. I know our uncle looks forward to Mr Darcy's visits and appreciates them very much, indeed."
Elizabeth knew this to be true. She recalled her aunt's words. They had always been close, but since Mr Gardiner's illness, they had drawn even closer, more as friends than as aunt and niece. It was a great comfort to Mrs Gardiner. Elizabeth and Darcy, who had never ceased to be grateful for the Gardiners' part in their own happiness, were delighted to be able to repay some of their kindness.
Even as they talked of their friends and relations, their thoughts returned to their children, who had been married on this day. Jane's only concern was that Louisa and Matthew Ward had insisted on continuing to rent a house in Matlock to be near the hospital instead of moving to Ashford Park. "I shall miss her very much, Lizzie, especially now that Sophie and Daniel are gone to live with Mrs Lambert in Derby."
Elizabeth smiled. "Dear Jane, you are missing your girls," she teased. "I am fortunate to have Cassy living at such an easy distance from Pemberley."
"Will Julian and Josie return to live at Pemberley?" asked Jane and was immediately sorry she had done so when Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head.
"No, at least not for a while, I do not think. Julian must return to Cambridge to complete his research. He has been offered a place on the team of a Professor, a preeminent scientist and a man of huge reputation. He cannot afford to miss the opportunity. As for Josie, you know how determined she is to get some of her work published in London. We are not entirely sure that her work is mature enough, and, of course, she has the added disadvantage of being a woman," Elizabeth explained.
Jane was outraged. "A woman writer is disadvantaged? You cannot mean that, Lizzie."
"Indeed, I do. Had she been a man, or used a man's name as a nom de plume, her chances of success would have been greatly enhanced, just as it was with the Bronte women, who all used male pen names at first."
Jane was aghast at the unfairness of it and said so. "I cannot believe it. And will they live in London?" she asked.
"Oh, no, neither of them like London much," Elizabeth replied. "They will take a house in Cambridge, within reach of the College. I have agreed to go down and help them with furniture and window draperies and other details. Meanwhile, they will stay at Portman Square. But it will not be for long; they are determined to be independent and find their own place."
Jane shook her head. This was very different than Jonathan, who had gladly accepted all his father could do for him, using the house in Grosvenor Street until they had finally decided to settle in Kent. "At Rosings, of course, where they spend most of their time, they have to maintain an appropriate standard. Lady Catherine has insisted upon it," Jane said.
"She would!" scoffed Elizabeth, and memories were revived of encounters with the formidable but frequently ridiculous Lady Catherine de Bourgh, provoking much mirth.
Elizabeth was about to ring for a fresh pot of tea, when, without warning, Jane's expression changed and she said, "Lizzie, I do wish I could be as certain of Jonathan's happiness as I am of the girls'."
When Elizabeth looked up at her, startled and confused, for she had no inkling that Jonathan was anything but happy with his Amelia-Jane, Jane explained that she had had reservations about the move to Rosings Park.
"Indeed, I have been concerned ever since they moved to Kent. I believe, Lizzie, that Amelia-Jane is still very impressionable and easily influenced by all the grandeur and status of Lady Catherine and her minions. I fear she places more value upon them than on her husband's position and work. Bingley was not surprised when Jonathan decided to retain his position in the party after leaving the Parliament; he could well be bored at Rosings when he is not busy with business affairs. Neither Amelia nor her sister are interested in Parliamentary matters."
Elizabeth had listened with concern. "Has he said anything to you?" she asked.
Jane shook her head. "Oh, no, he has not. I doubt that he would, he is too loyal to her," she said and added quickly, "I do not mean that he no longer loves her or that they are miserable together, Lizzie, but I wish I could see the kind of marriage that Cassy and Richard have or the felicity that Emma and James have found together. Regrettably, while they are always dutifully considerate of each other, I feel there is little warmth between them, except when they are both with the children."
Elizabeth was saddened but not entirely surprised. Amelia-Jane had always seemed to her to be the least interesting of the Collins girls, with neither the talent of Rebecca nor the strength and common sense of Cathy. She was certainly very pretty and, having married very young, appeared to have lost interest in all but the most superficial aspects of her husband's work. There was none of the intelligence and excitement that characterised the partnership of Caroline and Fitzwilliam. Indeed, Fitzwilliam himself had remarked that it was a great pity that young Jonathan Bingley had decided to leave Parliament, and Fitzwilliam had blamed it upon the fact that his wife was bored by his work.
"She does not value the work he does, and her conversation seems limited to her servants and her children, in that order!" he had said.
Jane did point out that Jonathan's wife was indeed an excellent mother, devoted to her children, but Elizabeth was not deceived. She could see her sister was unhappy, but there was very little anyone could do. Elizabeth was desperately sad for her nephew.