The Pemberley Chronicles (9 page)

Their evenings passed in musical entertainment and excellent conversation, of a level Elizabeth had rarely enjoyed at Longbourn. She had the satisfaction of knowing that her father had shown, as her Uncle Gardiner had done before, that he was the equal of any gentleman. Recalling her encounter with Lady Catherine, Lizzie permitted herself a little smug smile. It was a special pleasure for her to see how easily Darcy and Dr Grantley engaged him in conversation and the degree of respect they accorded his views. Frequently, the Rector, Mr Jenkins, would call and stay to dinner, adding his views to the conversation or his excellent voice to the singing, with Kitty to accompany them on the pianoforte. Elizabeth noticed that Mr Jenkins was there more often of late and believed him to be rather lonely and glad of the company.

Mr Bennet was so enjoying himself, that he had no desire at all to go up to London; he expressed a preference for accompanying Dr Grantley, Georgiana, and Kitty on a drive to the Peak District. He had heard a great deal about the area from Lizzie and the Gardiners, when they toured there last summer, he said. Elizabeth was surprised that Kitty preferred to stay but was later not quite so surprised, when it was revealed that young Mr Jenkins, the Rector, had been invited to join their party.

Completing her letter to Jane, briefly, for there were preparations to be made, Elizabeth mentioned the interest that Kitty was showing in the work of the little church at Pemberley. She added that the Rector was perhaps as great a source of interest as the rest of the Rectory. "He is a very well-mannered and thoughtful young man, and Mr Darcy likes him," she said, but she urged Jane to keep her counsel on this, "until we meet and can speak privately." To Charlotte, Elizabeth was particularly cordial, since she felt she owed her oldest friend some special consideration. Their friendship had been shaken, when Charlotte chose to marry Mr Collins, and Elizabeth felt the need to make amends.

She wrote:

I am looking forward very much to seeing you, dear Charlotte. God willing, we shall meet in May, before your baby is born, and have the time to talk as we used to in days gone by. God bless you,

Your friend, Lizzie.
C
HAPTER
F
IVE

Relations and friends

I

N THE SPRING OF
1816, London was a thriving, exciting metropolis and a political, mercantile, social, and cultural centre. Many people came there to do business, to make political or social contacts, or simply to see and be

seen in the right places, with the right people.

For Darcy and Elizabeth, their visit to the big city meant much more than this. While Darcy did have business to negotiate and Elizabeth intended to do some shopping in the fashionable emporiums recommended by her aunt, their main interest was the opportunity to enjoy the company of the Gardiners, with whom they shared a most satisfying relationship. Whether talking of matters pertaining to business or attending some entertainment in one of the numerous venues around London, both Darcy and Elizabeth were completely at ease with Mr and Mrs Gardiner. On matters concerning themselves or their families, they were able to speak frankly and openly, because there was between them a strong sense of trust as well as an affectionate concern for one another.

Darcy and Mr Gardiner needed to discuss a proposal to extend their business, based on reports from Fitzwilliam on the opportunities involving the trade in Tea and Spices from the Eastern colonies of India and Ceylon.

While Darcy had little experience in the business of trade, he was wise enough to see the direction in which British commerce was moving, and being no longer hobbled by snobbery, he found working with the practical and amiable Mr Gardiner rewarding and engrossing. He was content to leave the actual organisation and administration of the business in the hands of Mr Gardiner but took a lively interest in its progress. Darcy was also aware of the other consequences of the great expansion of industry and commerce that was taking place in England. It had been troubling him, and Elizabeth knew he felt strongly about it.

After dinner one night, he mentioned the subject of the new industries that were spreading across the country. "Are you aware," he asked quietly, "that there are factories being opened up in places such as Sheffield and Birmingham, which employ young children? I've had a letter from Fitzwilliam, who speaks with some horror of child labour in the Colonies; I wonder if he knows that it is happening here, in the very heart of England." Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner exchanged glances. It was obvious from his countenance and the tone of his voice that Darcy was speaking very seriously. Mr Gardiner responded cautiously, wondering how extensive the practice was.

But Darcy persevered. "I understand it is very popular with the cotton spinners and weavers," he said, adding with some sarcasm, "The children are thought to be small enough to crawl under the machines and clean them," and hearing Elizabeth gasp, he looked at her and added, more gently, "I have this on the best authority, my dear. I know it seems unbelievable, but it's true. What is more, I'm told that all over the Midlands and in parts of the West Riding and Cheshire, the landscape is being blackened with pits and smoke while the trout streams are being choked with wool scour and dye wash." He sounded angry, and Mr Gardiner, realising that Darcy was always passionate about the land, agreed that it was a worrying trend. Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had remained silent at first, but they added their voices in support of Darcy, only to find that their guest, a banker, was adamant that this was the way of the future.

"It's progress," he declared, "and there is a price to be paid for it." "If that is true, I want no part of it," said Darcy in a voice so determined that everyone at the table was left in no doubt of the strength and sincerity of his words. "I have no desire to see the fields and rivers of England sullied and the ordinary working people and their children enslaved by the owners of pits and workshops, just so they can make a great deal of money."
Mrs Gardiner was quite surprised, pleasantly so, on hearing Darcy speak out. Being from the same part of England, she shared his apprehension about the despoiling of the land and was glad to hear it spoken of so passionately. She whispered to her niece, "Lizzie, this is a side of Mr Darcy we have not seen before." Elizabeth assured her aunt that she had become aware of Darcy's concern since their marriage and knew it to be a matter of considerable importance to him.
Elizabeth's pride in her husband grew as she heard his words. She had never heard him speak of these matters with such a degree of passion before, but she knew he had concerns, because from time to time he had been troubled by information he had received.
Recently, there had been incidents reported of rural labourers' being thrown out of work as their masters enclosed the small farms and the commons and introduced "labour saving" machines. Their families, deprived of food and shelter on the farm and rendered homeless, wandered the streets, begging from passers-by.
Worse still, laws had been recently passed to make the casual taking of game punishable by transportation or, in some cases, death. Poachers, as they now were trying to grab a hare, fish, or pheasant to feed a hungry family, might well find themselves arrested, charged, and sentenced to be transported to Botany Bay. Their wives and children either went with them or starved.
Elizabeth knew that Darcy had protested strongly about this abuse of the poor at a meeting with some of the new landowners in the neighbourhood. She'd heard of this from Rosamund Camden whose father had agreed with Darcy and supported his stand. Many others did not. They were caught up in a rush to produce more with less and enrich themselves at the expense of the landless poor who had worked hard for them for generations.
The banker, Mr Fletcher, appeared to be unmoved. "Does that mean you will not enclose the commons on your property, Mr Darcy?" he asked.
"I most certainly will not," replied Darcy, reddening as he spoke, "The commons and some of the woodlands have been set aside for the use of everyone. It would be a gross injustice to enclose them and deny the village people use of the land."
Young Caroline Gardiner, who had been called in by her mother to help with the tea and provide some after-dinner entertainment at the pianoforte, heard part of the conversation and when an opportunity arose asked her mother why Mr Darcy was so angry. On being told, she expressed total sympathy with his point of view and, as Mrs Gardiner later told Elizabeth, solemnly promised that she would never marry anyone who had enclosed their fields and turned out their farm workers. "She was completely at one with Mr Darcy," said Mrs Gardiner as Elizabeth took a cup of tea with her before retiring, "Caroline thinks that you and Mr Darcy are the most wonderful couple in the world, Lizzie, and tonight, she was so impressed by his eloquence and anger that I can wager she will soon want to join the Reformists or even Mr Cobbett's Radicals!" Elizabeth laughed and when she went upstairs, related the tale to Darcy, who would not agree that it was precocious of young Caroline, saying only that the child had intelligence beyond her tender years and it was indeed a pleasure to find that a little girl not yet thirteen could be so moved by injustice.
Later that night, Elizabeth confided in her husband the sense of loyalty and pride she had felt as he spoke at dinner. She added that she wished she had known more about the circumstances of the textile trade; she would have had an opinion to offer when Jane had written to her about the new and lucrative business that her in-laws, the Hursts, were investing in. "I know all about it; I believe his sisters and Mr Hurst have actually persuaded Bingley to buy shares. Well, I intend to enlighten him about the pernicious nature of the enterprise, and if I can, I shall persuade him to sell out," said Darcy.
"Sell out?" Elizabeth could not believe her ears, "Do you think he will?" Darcy's face and voice had the kind of determination that Elizabeth had learned to recognise as implacable.
"I certainly intend to try my best, my love; I hope to convince him that his valuable patrimony will be far better used to purchase a very attractive property in Leicester, some twenty miles from Pemberley," he said, with a sly smile. The news sent Elizabeth into transports of delight as he went on, "Since he is soon to be a father, it is surely time he acquired a family home. He has frequently asked me to look out for a suitable place. Your sister is naturally keen to be close to us, so I have done his bidding, and I am fairly confident that if you and Jane were to add your considerable powers of persuasion to mine, we shall soon convince Bingley of the wisdom of moving his money from the hideous squalor of the textile industry to the still green and pleasant vales of Leicestershire."
Elizabeth, who had not heard Darcy speak with such passion and eloquence on the subject before, was quite amazed at his scheme. She couldn't help admiring his determination and dedication, but even more was she delighted at the thought of the Bingleys moving to Leicestershire, not twenty miles from Pemberley. "Will you not tell me where this Paradise lies?" she asked, and Darcy told her it was one of the properties being sold by Lord Thompson, who was getting too old to leave his own considerable estate in Hampshire and travel around the country. Two of the smaller properties--one in Leicestershire and another in Staffordshire--were to be sold, although this was not publicly known. Darcy was familiar with both properties and was certain the one in Leicester would suit the Bingleys well. "We could look it over on our way to Longbourn and Netherfield, next month--would you like that?" he suggested.
"I can think of nothing I would like better," answered his wife, and so it was settled.
When it was time to leave, their farewells were drawn out and sad as they left the Gardiners. Darcy and Mr Gardiner had successfully negotiated their business, while Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had spent many hours together, undisturbed and alone but for young Caroline and Emily, so they could talk to their hearts' content. Elizabeth's affection for her aunt was exceeded only by her love of her sister, and both aunt and niece were looking forward to being with Jane in August, when her baby was due. The Gardiners were to stay at Longbourn. "Your father insisted," said Mrs Gardiner, smiling, "He made me promise I would be there to keep your Mama calm." Elizabeth laughed. She knew exactly what her father had meant but added hopefully that, just maybe, having been with Lydia when she was brought to bed would help her mother remain calm.
She was grateful that her aunt had not pressed her about her own prospects of having a child. They had talked about it once, when Lizzie, feeling a little low in spirit, had admitted to having some anxiety about it, and Mrs Gardiner had hastened to reassure her; after all they were not as yet married a year, she'd said.
Returning to Pemberley, they found the party happily engaged in a variety of pursuits. Dr Grantley, who was shortly returning to Oxford, having completed his research in the Library, was working with Kitty, Georgiana, and Mr Jenkins the Rector, on a new program for the Children's Choir. Choosing the right music--not too ambitious, but with more variety than their first program--was an important matter, Kitty declared. Rosamund and James had visited and asked if the choir would sing at their wedding in the Autumn. Georgiana and Kitty felt this was a huge honour and could hardly speak lucidly as their words tumbled out to express their delight at the invitation. There was so much to be done, Georgiana asked if Kitty may be allowed to stay on at Pemberley to help. Their friendship had come on apace, much to Elizabeth's delight. Mr Jenkins declared solemnly that they could not possibly manage without Kitty, and even Dr Grantley appeared to agree that she was so "good with the children" that she was invaluable to the project. Darcy and Elizabeth could not, in the face of such unanimity, see any objection, and it was left to Mr Bennet to give the final answer.
When he was applied to for permission, Mr Bennet seemed quite bemused. "Of course, Kitty may stay. Lizzie my dear, I cannot believe she is the same silly young person to whom I had to speak so severely, so often at home," he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "your own influence and the excellent example of your young sister-in-law have completely altered her shallow, foolish ways. No, Lizzie, Kitty is transformed--let her stay, the longer the better--if you and Mr Darcy can bear it." Of the last condition, there was no question, so it was settled. Kitty would stay on. The smiles on all their faces attested to the popularity of the decision.
That Sunday, after Evensong, Mr Jenkins stayed to dinner. He and Kitty seemed to have a great deal to discuss, not all of it appeared to do with the choir either. On retiring to their room that night, Elizabeth could not resist asking Darcy if he had noticed their growing closeness, and he immediately smiled and said, "Of course I have, dearest, I would have had to be blind not to notice. I think we can safely say that Mr Jenkins is deeply smitten and Kitty is not entirely unaffected either." Even though she knew he was teasing her, Elizabeth was surprised at the accuracy of his observations. She wondered how he could have failed to notice a similar situation between his sister and his friend, Dr Grantley. Indeed, he'd said nothing at all on the matter, and Lizzie did not feel she wanted to interfere.
On the subject of Kitty, however, he was even more generous in his praise than her father had been, frankly admitting that he had been too harsh in his original criticism of her, for she was then too young and her character too immature to be so judged. Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised to hear him say, "Kitty is developing into a very pleasing young person; Georgiana is very fond of her, and I am sure with a little guidance and a mature influence in her life, she will surprise us all." So astonished was Elizabeth at this statement that she failed to seize the moment and ask if he thought Mr Jenkins would be a sufficiently mature influence, for by then he had turned and put his arms around her as if to indicate that they had talked enough of others and he was of a mind to concentrate on themselves.