The Pemberley Chronicles (40 page)

Everywhere they went, around each deep bend in the road, a new vista opened, enticing them to stay longer. William had become absorbed in sketching places they visited, and his sketchbook was filling up with pictures of lakes, bridges, boats, dark fells, and sunlit valleys--all souvenirs of this splendid summer. Elizabeth and Darcy enjoyed the close companionship with their children, even more than the sights and sounds of the Lakes. It was a rare and precious thing, and they treasured it.

In the penultimate week of their holiday, Elizabeth and Cassy declared that they needed new boots, since theirs were completely worn with walking, and Darcy suggested a day in Kendal, well-known for its rustic entertainment. The offer was accepted immediately, for they had all heard from their hosts of the excellent country fair at Kendal and were keen to visit it.

Returning from Kendal to Ambleside, they found several letters which had been sent on from their lodgings at Grasmere. Seeing hers were from Jane and Mrs Gardiner, Elizabeth begged to be excused from a walk after dinner to the Lake, where the end of a boat race was to be followed by country dancing and fireworks. Darcy, noting how eagerly she had opened up Jane's letter, smiled to himself. Fireworks offered no competition to a letter from Jane.

As William and Cassandra set off with their father for the ferry wharf, Elizabeth curled up in a large, comfortable chair and settled down to read her letters. Jane's letter was, happily, full of news. She wrote:

My dearest Lizzie,

I have had yours, written at Windermere at the start of your tour of the Lakes, for almost two weeks, and I am sincerely sorry for this delay in replying. I have no excuse to offer except that we have been very busy, and instead of sending off a scrap of a note, I decided to wait for a day when there would be sufficient time to write you all the news. Today, everyone is away at a cricket match. Bingley and Jonathan are both playing, and Emma has gone along with some friends in the neighbourhood to cheer their team. It means I have the day to myself, and my first thoughts were of you, out there enjoying the beauty of the Lakes. I hope this finds you still at Grasmere, which I am told is very peaceful indeed. My informant is Caroline Bingley, who together with Mrs Hurst has just left for Bath after spending a few days with us, on their return from London, where they had attended a wedding. It was not as trying having them because we did not have to be concerned with our brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, whose gout has rendered it impossible for him to travel to London. While I am sorry he suffers with the gout, I have to confess I was relieved he was not with them.

Back to Caroline and the Lakes--she declared that she had spent two weeks there some years ago. While she found it "peaceful," she admitted to being bored with the "endless panorama of mountains and water and no one of any quality about." I do long to hear your response, dear Lizzie. I gather from your letter that you are unlikely to be similarly bored.

Charlotte Collins has just this week returned to Mansfield, having spent a fortnight with us together with her two girls. Catherine, her eldest, is still at Rosings. Charlotte says her godmother and namesake, Lady Catherine, has invited her to stay on as a companion to Miss de Bourgh. While Charlotte will miss her, I think she sees it as an opportunity not to be missed and has prudently consented. Her own endeavours are bearing much fruit. She has seven young ladies at Mansfield, who will finish in November, with seven others starting next Spring. She has neither the room nor the capacity to take in more. Rebecca, she says, is very helpful. She wants to be a writer for the newspapers--and has been sending work away to several publishers-- including the
Matlock Review
but is happy to teach Charlotte's young ladies in the meantime. Rebecca says they are eager to learn and especially love to read poetry, write pretty letters and verses and such things. It amazes me Lizzie that we got on without such tutoring at all.

But, Lizzie, my favourite young person has to be our goddaughter, Amelia-Jane, who is almost fifteen and already the loveliest young girl you could hope to meet and with such a sweetness of disposition, too. Bingley gave a party for the two Misses Collins last Saturday and Amelia-Jane was remarked upon by everyone present. Unfortunately for all the gentlemen who wanted to dance with her, since she is not yet "out," her mother did not permit her to accept invitations except from Jonathan and Richard, who she said "were almost like her brothers." There were many disappointed partners, to be sure, but Charlotte is very protective of her girls, understandably, seeing she has to bring them up on her own. She has, however, promised that Amelia-Jane may spend Christmas with us, while Charlotte and Rebecca go to Lucas Lodge.

Dear Lizzie, we have had so many visitors this Summer--Caroline and Fitzwilliam have been here on their way back from London--all very excited with their achievements. Caroline could hardly stop telling us about all the hard work Fitzwilliam had been doing with this Reform Group, who are trying to improve conditions for working people and get everyone the vote.

Bingley swears that if women could vote and stand for Parliament, Caroline would be at Westminster herself! Oh Lizzie, how this couple have given the lie to those who thought they were unsuited, because she was too young for him. I have rarely seen a marriage in which two people loved, encouraged, and appreciated each other more . . .

There was more, with details of several domestic and personal matters, all of which Elizabeth greatly enjoyed, glad that Jane had waited to write at length. She was still smiling when she opened up her aunt's letter, and on glancing at it very quickly, as she was wont to do, she was struck by the difference between the two.

As much as Jane's letter had been filled with the sweets of Summer, leaving her sister thankful for the happiness Jane and her family enjoyed, Mrs Gardiner's brought an immediate feeling of unease. The letter, not obviously seeming gloomy or despondent and certainly not conveying any specific bad news, appeared strained and difficult to read, quite unlike her aunt's usual style. She also wrote of her daughter and son-in-law and their pleasure at the success of Fitzwilliam's campaign to give more power to local councils, but Elizabeth was unconvinced; the letter lacked enthusiasm. To the extent that she could read between the lines, Elizabeth felt her aunt, whom she knew well and loved dearly, was trying to conceal some anxiety or unhappiness, but her letter betrayed her.

She wrote:

I am almost sorry that Caroline and Fitzwilliam are back and my darling grandchildren are gone to Matlock with them. I really do love having them with me; especially when your uncle is away on business, they are my chief source of happiness. Oh Lizzie, I do miss them.

Some good news followed. They had heard from Robert again--he had met with Mr Bingley's cousin Frank, who had helped him settle down and find his feet in the colony. He liked the work and had already made some friends. He did not like the hot weather but was looking forward to going up country where it was much cooler. Elizabeth could sense that her aunt was very pleased with Robert's news. But of Emily, there was hardly any news, save to say she was busy at Pemberley. Elizabeth searched eagerly for information about Paul. There was none. In the final paragraph, there was a line about Richard's moving from Birmingham to take up work in Derby, and almost as an afterthought, there followed the news that he was going up to London with Paul, at the end of the week. Elizabeth checked the date of the letter--it was almost ten days old. She wondered why Richard was taking Paul to London. She was certain that there was something her aunt had not revealed.

The letter unsettled her. They had less than a week of their tour left, and Elizabeth was now eager to return home. She sensed there was something wrong and wanted to be back home to see, hear, and do whatever she could. She realised that the situation was one over which she had very little control, but she hated being miles away. She longed for news of Emily and was disturbed by the fact that her aunt had written nothing of her state of mind or Paul's health. Elizabeth felt a pressing need to be back at Pemberley.

Bewildered and uneasy, she was in a very different frame of mind, when Darcy, who had left her reading Jane's letter, returned. He was surprised by the change in her, and when she showed him Mrs Gardiner's letter and admitted her feelings of unease and anxiety, he tried at first to reason with her, arguing that if anything serious had occurred, they would have been informed by express. Yet, aware that she was unconvinced and remained unhappy, he suggested that they leave a few days early. "I know we had planned to go on to Penrith, but there is nothing very remarkable to be seen there; if we left tomorrow and travelled via Kendal, we could reach Pemberley at least two days earlier than planned." Elizabeth thanked him with tears in her eyes, grateful for his understanding and his efforts to alleviate her concern. "It will bring you no pleasure to spend any more time here, when your heart is no longer in it, my love," her husband explained. "I can see that you are troubled, and nothing will do but to return home."

Elizabeth was concerned that the children may be disappointed to be going home early, but having spoken with them, Darcy returned to reassure her. "Cassandra has grown a little tired of travelling around and is yearning for the comforts of home."
"What about William?" she asked, "Is he not upset?" Darcy shook his head. "William has no preference and on hearing that you were anxious to return

early, although I have not divulged the reason for your disquiet, he was immediately in agreement that we should leave at once," he said, to her great relief. With adverse weather forecast for the morrow, it seemed by far the most sensible thing to do. Preparations for their journey were speedily put in train, and just a day later, they were on the road to Derbyshire and home.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

The grinding agony of woe . . .

T

RAVELLING AS EXPEDITIOUSLY AS
possible and breaking journey only for rest and meals, they reached Pemberley by midafternoon on the day following. Though Darcy had taken the precaution of despatching an

express announcing their change of plan, Mrs Reynolds seemed unusually perturbed, and Elizabeth was immediately aware that all was not well.

While a bustling crowd of servants and stable lads unloaded luggage and led the tired horses away, Elizabeth, ignoring the activity around her, sought out Mrs Reynolds. She hardly needed to speak, for Mrs Reynolds held in her hand a letter, folded over and sealed. Elizabeth could tell from the writing it was from Emily. As she took it, she looked at the housekeeper, "What is it, Mrs Reynolds; what has happened?" Mrs Reynolds ushered her into the sitting room, where to her surprise, she found her sister Kitty, waiting. Kitty's tense expression did not fill Elizabeth with confidence either. She was convinced that something was very wrong indeed. "Please, why will one of you not tell me what has happened? Kitty, what are you doing here? And where is Emily?" she demanded.

Mrs Reynolds left the room to follow William and Cassandra upstairs. It was plain to her that the sisters needed to talk alone. Kitty urged her sister to read Emily's letter first, but Elizabeth was adamant, "Not until I know what has happened to her. Where is she, Kitty? You must tell me." Finally, Kitty realising that it was useless to argue, said, "Emily is in Italy--or at least, she should be there by now."

"Italy? Good God! What on earth is she doing in Italy?" Elizabeth was astounded.
Kitty begged her to open Emily's letter and read it.
"I know she has explained it all; please, Lizzie, do not distress yourself unduly. No harm has come to Emily--as you will see when you read her letter, it was a decision she took entirely of her own free will." By this time, Elizabeth had opened up the letter. As she read it, she was so bewildered and shaken, she was forced to sit down.
Emily's letter was written in plain, undramatic language. In terms that would have sufficed if she were informing Elizabeth that she intended travelling to Lambton or Matlock to visit her mother or her sister, she explained her actions:

My dearest Cousin Lizzie,

When you read this letter, I shall be in Italy, with Paul. Please do not be angry with me, for it is not as you fear. I shall be travelling quite respectably, with my husband, who must move to a warmer, drier climate immediately. The physician in Harley Street, who saw Paul ten days ago, insisted that he had no hope unless he did so. Richard will tell you more if you wish to have more medical information. When I heard the facts, I decided that I would go with Paul, to ensure he is properly cared for, but I knew it was neither wise nor seemly that I travel alone with him. I decided, therefore, that we should be married, by special licence, and travel as husband and wife. This would not only afford me protection as we travel, but it would protect my family and yourselves from any malicious gossip.

I told Richard and my dear parents of my decision. I cannot help it, dear Lizzie, that Mama is unhappy. I suppose I would be, too, if it had been my daughter. But Richard and Papa have been very helpful. Richard has arranged our travel and lodgings. There is no problem with money, Paul has sufficient for both of us, but Papa insists I must have my own as well. Paul himself was, at first, quite adamant that I must not "sacrifice" myself, as he quaintly put it, but I have persuaded him that it is what I want to do, because, dear Lizzie, I love him dearly and want to look after him for however little time we have left. I could not bear to have him locked away in some dreary hospital, where we would have no way of reaching him.