Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley (43 page)

His despondency notwithstanding, Bingley honestly was pleased with the Hasberry ranch. The price was reasonable, the house wonderful, and sheep and walnuts were as good as anything else. Darcy raised sheep and grew a number of crops on his estate, so Bingley knew he could count on his friend for guidance.

Bingley's only concern at this point was with Jane. That she would adore the house and grounds he did not doubt; however, he knew that leaving her parents, hometown, and the shire she had known all her life would be distressing. Living close to Lizzy would certainly soften the heartache.

"What troubles me," Bingley said to Darcy as he drove toward Pemberley, "is whether my Jane will honestly reveal her thoughts and feelings to me." He noted Darcy's frown and continued quickly, "I do not mean to imply that she would purposely mislead or lie! It's just that... Jane does not easily share her feelings, even to me. She will consent to whatever course I choose and deem it her duty to submit." He sighed. "I love her placid nature, Darcy. We compliment each other so well, yet at times I do wish she would speak her mind more forcefully. Do you know what I mean?"

Darcy shrugged and smiled wryly. "Not completely, Bingley, to be truthful. Elizabeth has no problem whatsoever in clearly expressing her mind to me. She never has," he finished quietly in memory.

"Jane knows how deeply I want our own home; she does as well of course, but probably not to the same degree as I. For me, moving to Derbyshire is coming home, yet for Jane it is leaving her home. I shall be frank, Darcy," he glanced over at his friend with a blush on his cheeks as he finished, "I need distance from Mrs. Bennet."

He clamped his lips in shame, but Darcy laughed aloud and clapped him on the shoulder. "You need explain no further, my friend! You are a far braver man than I and have the patience of a saint."

"I believe Jane experiences some of the same irritation, although she would never dream of verbalizing dishonor toward a parent. This, I judge, is partially the problem. She too wishes for independence and solitude, but the price is guilt. Furthermore, I fear she will express enthusiasm for the Hasberry Estate to please me even if she is not delighted with it." He shook his head in confusion and melancholy. "I cannot proceed unless Jane is fully committed and content."

"Listen, Charles. Elizabeth, let us be factual here, undoubtedly understands Jane superior to even you. Women, especially sisters, share intuitively. She will divine the truth if you do not. I will speak with her on the subject. It may seem a roundabout, rather juvenile way to go about it, but Elizabeth can discover the honest feelings of Jane."

Much later that evening, as Darcy and Lizzy walked along the moonlit path to their isolated rendezvous, Darcy relayed his conversation with Charles. Jane had remained quiet during the dinner discussions regarding Hasberry Hall, interjecting rarely with a question or ambiguous comment. Darcy had learned long ago that he was utterly incompetent in reading his sister-in-law's composed visage, so he did not try.

Lizzy seemed unperturbed by Bingley's disquiet. "Charles frets where he should not," she declared firmly to her husband. "Jane is not attached to Netherfield and wants a home of their own. Any remorse she may experience at departing Hertfordshire will be overwhelmed by her joy. How about here for the blanket?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Are you certain?"

"Well, it is flat here and the grass is soft..."

"No, I mean about Jane," he said in exasperation.

Lizzy laughed, taking the blanket out of his arms and kissing him tenderly. "Yes, I am certain. You are sweet to worry so, beloved, but trust me. Charles is anxious for naught." She smiled slyly. "Want to know a secret?" He nodded. "Jane would deny it if you asked, but she is as annoyed at Mama's interference as Charles. She told me that every time Charles broaches buying Netherfield, she cringes internally and prays the family refuses. Then she blushed and bit her lip, swearing me to not repeat her 'uncharitableness and wickedness' to another living soul. You do not count, of course, as you are my soul. However, I will tickle you mercilessly if you tell her I told you. Now, assist me with this blanket and kiss me as you promised."

The following day the four of them drove to the estate, Mr. Greystone once again conducting a thorough tour. The housekeeper escorted Jane and Lizzy through the kitchen areas, discussing household management minutia while the men departed to further discuss business. In this instance, it was Lizzy's experience that aided. She asked pointed questions about the staff and various duties, budget, merchandise and foodstuff ordering procedures, and much more. Jane was amazed.

The house itself was easily three times the size of Longbourn, but architecturally constructed in the same simplistic country style. Vaguely Tudor in design, the two-hundred-year-old structure of grey stone included all the rooms essential for a true country manor, but with an understated elegance that lacked the opulence of a grandly prodigious mansion such as Pemberley. Gardens and pathways were naturalistic, flowing gracefully amid the babbling creek and small lake. Trees, shrubs, and flowers grew wild with minimal cultivation; the extensive main patio with granite sculptures and one fountain was the only area of formality.

The manifestation of Jane Bingley's endorsement of the Hasberry Estate was eloquently reflected by the radiant smile gracing her features. None of them, even Darcy, were unsure of her positive impression. The relief washing over Bingley's face was laughable in its intensity. Mr. Greystone was unequivocal in his delight and liberation. The readiness of Bingley to seal the purchase as soon as feasible, combined with his anxiousness to retire and pleasure at bestowing his beloved ancestral home to a young couple with a bright future, encouraged Mr. Greystone to accept Bingley over the other two hesitant parties. Before the week ended, the initial documents were signed and a down payment conferred.

Jane's only request was to forestall alerting anyone outside the immediate persons at Pemberley until they had the opportunity to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Bingley agreed. The tentative plan was to stay until after the Summer Festival with occupation of Hasberry Hall roughly three months hence. The Darcys were jubilant. Kitty assured Jane that Papa and Mama would understand. Georgiana, who had grown fond of Jane and adored Mr. Bingley, was delighted. Even Caroline displayed a charming smile at the news and asked for a tour of the Hall, kindly offering Jane dozens of decorating tips, a few of which were actually heeded.

F
OR THE FOLLOWING SEVERAL days, the company at Pemberley basically did absolutely nothing.

Darcy spent approximately an hour with Mr. Keith discussing estate affairs, hastily and randomly shuffled through the stack of papers on his desk, sighed and ran a hand over his face, and then walked out of the room without a backward glance. He would not even enter his study for another week. Mr. Keith had smoothly handled all pressing concerns, of which there had been few; the crops were on their own as they grew and ripened, and the various livestock were not a pressing issue as they fattened up, so not much human interference was called for. What work was mandated was efficiently managed by the tenant farmers and livestock handlers.

Therefore, Darcy was freed to attend to the onerous task of relaxing! This he embraced with a ready heart... for a time. Day after day he lounged about reading, playing billiards or chess with Bingley while they discussed sheep, entertaining the women, taking strolls with his wife, and avoiding the stables. Therein lay the down side. Darcy had not been on a horse since his brief stay at Pemberley with the Duke, and he missed the activity profoundly. It was more than the desire to ride itself that disturbed him and wore on his nerves. It was the raging need for strenuous physical activity. Darcy was a man who required a balance in his life: tranquil pursuits entailing minimal energy or concentration, enterprises offering a challenge to his intellect or that advanced his education, and labor of a concrete variety where his muscles were exercised and a healthy sweat attained. The first he was surrounded by in limitless quantities, and the second he was happy to eschew, his mind quite overdue for a caesura. To the frustration of all, the latter was impossible due to his uncle's proscription.

Lizzy, on the other hand, experienced a sort of exhaustive collapse. She slept late each day and was yawning by early evening. It was not exactly the same as the crushing fatigue encountered during the first months of her pregnancy, but reminiscent. She simply could not muster the emotional or physical energy to do anything beyond strolling about the gardens and visiting with her sisters. She did visit the stables once, the women in tow, to bring gifts to Wolfram. He capered in jubilant happiness, pausing between leaps to munch the treats she brought him. Parsifal studied Lizzy with great intensity, Lizzy actually discovering herself blushing guiltily at a horse! She did not leave Pemberley at all, the closest excursion abroad being to visit the children at the orphanage. They capered about their patroness as happily as Wolfram had, delighted with the toys and sweets she brought.

Mrs. Reynolds had proceeded efficiently with the plans for the Summer Festival as outlined before Elizabeth departed for London, so there was naught to do but wait for the day to arrive. She luxuriated in having zero demands on her person while her husband grew increasingly edgy and irritable. Twice he disappeared for several hours on long, strenuous hikes through the rough wooded areas of Pemberley, rationalizing that his legs were not injured so Dr. Darcy could not scowl at him for walking! He returned sweaty, filthy, with torn clothing, scraped hands, and brambles caught in his hair, indicating to his frowning wife that at least some rock climbing had ensued. However, the obvious pleasure and release attained from his exercise, without noticeable strain to his shoulder, prevented Lizzy from scolding.

Nevertheless, they all breathed huge sighs of relief when it was announced that a carriage and three men on horseback were approaching the manor. It was late afternoon and the occupants of Pemberley were scattered about in various pursuits. Darcy was currently in the attic storage rooms with several men assisting in the retrieval of nursery furniture from amongst the unorganized piles of boxes and ancient furnishings. Bingley had ridden over to the Hasberry property, as he had nearly every day, to learn first hand from Mr. Greystone. The older gentleman had taken quite a shine to Charles and was delightedly giving him a crash course in sheep rearing and walnut harvesting. The women sat in Lizzy's homey parlor, the windows open to the flowering garden beyond, actively discussing baby decorations.

Lizzy could not erase her vivid dream, so decided that subtle shades of blue and yellow would grace the walls. Harriet Vernor had recommended the decorator who had assisted her with their nursery, so an appointment was made for the following week. In the meantime, the women gladly offered inspired advice, more for the enjoyment of doing so than out of any real knowledge or expectation. Even Caroline chimed in now and again, apparently caught up in the enthusiasm, and was actually quilting a baby blanket. They were all shocked at the effort, and doubly at the skill she employed, as none of them would have imagined Caroline Bingley capable of wielding a sewing needle.

Thus, the footman announcing impending visitors found the ladies all bent over a baby project of some sort when he entered the room. Collectively, the fabrics and yarns were stowed as the occupants hastened from the room. Lizzy instructed Phillips to inform Mr. Darcy as she rushed to the foyer.

Entering the long, curved promenade were Dr. Darcy, Dr. Penaflor, and Colonel Fitzwilliam mounted on horseback trailed by a carriage with the Matlock crest. The females clustered on the porch as the men dismounted, Richard waving in greeting as he turned toward his parent's carriage. Dr. Darcy bounded up the steps first, sweeping Georgiana into an embrace and leaning for a kiss to Lizzy's cheek before either was fully aware of his intent. Lizzy blushed and Georgiana giggled, while Dr. Darcy's eyes swept over the house.

"Ah, Pemberley," he said in a tone of deep affection. "How beautiful she is." He sighed and smiled brightly. "It is good to be home!" He kissed Georgiana's forehead and turned toward Dr. Penaflor. "Did I not tell you it was the most excellent home in all of England, Raja?"

Dr. Penaflor merely nodded, busy bowing elegantly to each lady in succession. Darcy marched over the threshold at that moment, pulling his jacket over a dusty shirt in an attempt to make himself presentable, unaware of the cobwebs clinging to his hair.

"Uncle! How wonderful you have arrived. Welcome to Pemberley, Dr. Penaflor. I see you have brought the Matlocks in your wake." Darcy shook hands with his uncle, both men grinning identically.