Women of Pemberley (30 page)

Josie arrived in London, accompanied by her father, who had business in the city. They went at once to her aunt's house in the area of Regent's Park.
Julian had been informed of the time and date of their arrival; consequently, they had very little time to wait before he arrived, having travelled overnight from Cambridge. Mr Tate introduced him to his sister, Miss Beatrice Tate, and he was immediately invited to stay to dinner.
Later, Mr Tate left to keep his appointment in the city, and Josie's aunt declared that she was going upstairs to "curl up on the sofa with a book." This left the young couple to their own devices, and they decided that the excellent weather deserved to be celebrated with a walk in the park.
A few hours later, they returned looking exceedingly happy, and Lady Anne Darcy's ring had been felicitously transferred from its velvet box onto the appropriate finger of Josie's left hand. Both Mr Tate and Josie's aunt Beatrice admired the exquisite ring and declared that a celebration was definitely in order.
Anthony Tate had been too busy to notice that his beloved daughter and Julian Darcy were falling in love. However, now that it was all settled and they were engaged, he was very pleased indeed and played the role of the father of the bride to perfection.
Julian and Josie found themselves in London at a time of remarkable political change. Lord Palmerston, who had only the previous year won a great election victory following the successful end of the Crimean War, was defeated in Parliament and resigned, bringing to power the very conservative Lord Derby.
The sense of disappointment among the Reformists was almost palpable. Palmerston had been a Reformer, however reluctant, pressured by Russell and others to proceed with the changes that the people demanded. With Lord Derby leading a minority Conservative government, there were no such expectations.
Josie wrote to her parents:

We were invited by James and Emma Wilson to dine at their town house in Grosvenor Street and afterwards, repaired to the Commons to listen to the speeches. They were terribly dull and boring. James Wilson is very disappointed that the Conservatives are back, especially with Derby, who he says, only remains in power because the Opposition is so disunited.

Papa, I know you will be exceedingly pleased to hear that James and many of his Parliamentary colleagues do not believe that Lord Derby's government will last. James predicts that they will be defeated on the floor of the House and then Derby will have to resign, though no one is quite sure who will replace him.

Josie could feel the excitement of London already. She longed to see more of the city. Her aunt, aware of her interest, had introduced her to a literary group, but Josie found it all too tame.

The ladies are all extremely keen on writing "poetic prose," since they cannot produce real poetry! Much of it is in the old Gothic style, and it is either highly romantic or melodramatic in content. Nobody wants to talk or write about the ordinary people of this city. There are millions of stories to be told, and no one wants to hear them.

Dear Papa, I know you will, and I am ever grateful to have my articles appear in the
Review
and the
Chronicle
, but it would be nice to be taken seriously, just once, by the Metropolitan press.

We have been going out a good deal, too. Aunt Beatrice and I have been twice to the House of Commons, twice to the Museum, and once to drive in Hyde Park with Emma Wilson, whose beautiful daughters, Victoria and Stephanie, must be the envy of every other woman in London. Yet they are such modest, unspoilt girls, both very accomplished, too. I wish I had half their talent!

Tomorrow we are to have a very special treat. Julian is to join us and we are to attend a reading by Charles Dickens, after which we are to go to Standish Park at the invitation of the Wilsons. I am looking forward to visiting Standish Park. Julian says it is a very fine estate and, being in Kent, quite different to Derbyshire.

I cannot sleep for the excitement of actually seeing Mr Dickens in the flesh! I promise to write all about it next week.
Your loving daughter,
Josie.

Josie's excitement continued to grow until they were actually at the hall where England's most beloved and popular author delighted his audience with readings from two of their favourite novels,
The Pickwick Papers
and
A Christmas Carol
. The superb dramatic and comic elements in his material, and his own amazing histrionic skills combined to make a most satisfying entertainment. Josie was enchanted. She had never experienced anything like it before.

Sitting near them was a very smartly dressed woman, tall, blonde, and enthusiastic. Catching Miss Beatrice Tate's eye, she waved an elegantly gloved hand, and Josie's aunt waved back. She whispered that she had met her at one of the meetings of her literary group but, unhappily, could not recall her name. During a short break in the performance, Aunt Beatrice revealed that she did remember that the woman was an American writer, and an enthusiastic admirer of Charles Dickens.

Julian noted she was certainly that; she was manifestly overwhelmed with admiration and left no one, including those of the audience sitting beside and in front of her, in any doubt of her response. So keen was she to convey her adoration--mere appreciation seemed inadequate to describe her feelings for the author--that it seemed she did not mind how much of a spectacle she made of herself.

When the performance was over and Mr Dickens, whose skill and charm had completely captivated his audience, had left the hall, the tall woman made her way over to them, enthusiastically greeted Josie's aunt, and demanded to be introduced to her "friends." She seemed determined to make the acquaintance of the young people with Miss Tate.

Julian had slipped away to talk to a young man he had recognised across the hall, leaving the unfortunate Josie with her Aunt Beatrice.
Marian Thurber, for that was her name, introduced herself and, on discerning Josie's interest in literary matters, she was immediately curious to discover more about her and was about to press her for information when a young man in a black overcoat approached the group, plainly keen to attract her attention. Seeing him, Miss Thurber thrust her card into Josie's hand and, after promising to "be in touch," left in a great hurry, closely followed by the man in the black coat, who appeared to be remonstrating with her.
Rejoining them in time to see the rather bizarre exit, Julian raised an eyebrow and appeared about to comment when the woman was seen returning. To his great relief, the target of her attention was another group of people who were still discussing the performance. Seizing the moment and Josie's arm, he guided her out of the hall and, having secured a hansom cab, conveyed them to Miss Tate's house, where they were to wait for the Wilsons, with whom they were travelling to Kent.
Josie was tired and fell asleep on the way, waking only when they reached the inn at Rochester, where they dined and broke journey for the night. Emma Wilson, ever conscious of her responsibilities, ensured the maintenance of proper decorum by having Josie share her bedroom, leaving the gentlemen to their own devices.
The following morning, they left soon after breakfast and made excellent time, arriving at Standish Park in the afternoon. Josie, who had never been to Kent, was all eyes and ears, absorbing every new sight and sound.
Writing that night to Elizabeth, she expressed her appreciation:

The lovely woods and meadows that clothe the countryside delight the eye, as do the quaint villages with thatched cottages and conical oast houses. The landscape seems to be sleeping in the sun, as are the dreaming herds of cattle in fields filled with the prettiest wild flowers I have ever seen.

In addition to this rich feast, I have the most delightful room, overlooking the park that seems to fall in gentle terraces to the river far below. Ancient trees in green meadows and clumps of irises by the water all combine to make a veritable heaven wherever I look.

Emma agrees that they are very fortunate to live in what must be the most enchanting part of England.
It is all new to me, and I cannot imagine how I have lived for nigh on twenty years and not known the sheer beauty of Kent...

James and Emma made time to take Josie around the orchards, farms, and parklands of the Standish Estate. The more she saw, the more she loved them. For all her father's fortune and influence, both of which were considerable, Josie had never before experienced a style of life as it was lived at Standish Park. She loved its elegance, its leisured sense of space and time, which so contrasted with the bustle of her home at Matlock, where life was always run at a fairly brisk pace.

The Wilsons were clearly wealthy, but without the ostentatious trappings that bespoke a taste for opulence as at Rosings Park; rather, everything was elegant and tasteful, blending into an atmosphere of harmony and balance where nothing was overdone. Wherever she turned her eyes, whether to the lofty, handsome rooms or the acres of woodland and park, which seemed to stretch endlessly along the valley of the Stour, the prospect was universally pleasing. As they drove around the estate, Josie frequently begged that they stop so she could absorb the loveliness of a particular place or make a quick sketch, which on her return to the house, she would immediately fill out with other details.

I love this house above any other place I have seen. It has a most welcoming atmosphere and provides ample comfort in every room. Such airy, spacious rooms and graceful French windows, which I adore, surrounded by grounds so remarkable that, except at Pemberley, I have seen none to rival them. As for the weather, it is, as they told us it would be, perfect at this time of year!

Before they had been three or four days at Standish Park, they were all teasing her that Julian and she would have to spend more time in Kent, seeing she was so in love with it.

Sitting on the terrace on a balmy evening, James and Emma Wilson watched Julian and Josie walk away from the house towards the Rose Garden. Deep in conversation they walked, their heads turned toward one another, and though not a word carried to the observers on the terrace, the degree of affection between the pair was unmistakable.

"Miss Tate seems a very engaging young woman," said James to his wife. "I can claim no great knowledge of the family, but I know her father is a very influential man in the Midlands. I believe his support for the Reform movement, through his newspapers, was crucial."

Emma agreed. "Certainly, Anthony Tate is a man of both influence and principle, according to my brother. Jonathan is very impressed by his support of many community causes, and I think I am right in saying that Josie's mother Rebecca has also given a great deal of time to the community. My cousin Emily is a particular friend of Josie's mother," she added. "She used to be Becky Collins, of course. It is a quite delicious irony that her daughter Josie seems destined to be the Mistress of Pemberley."

They recalled with amusement the circumstances of the entail upon Longbourn, the Bennet family home, which had caused Mrs Bennet so much anxiety, as she lived for many years in fear of being dispossessed by Josie's grandfather, the lugubrious Mr Collins, beneficiary by entail.

"It was the untimely death of Mr Collins and the wisdom of Mr Bennet that resulted in my brother Jonathan inheriting Longbourn, where Josie's grandmother, Charlotte Collins, now lives as a house guest," said Emma.

"Mrs Collins must surely contemplate the prospect of Josie's marriage with some satisfaction," James observed. "I would say with a good deal of satisfaction, but, quite clearly, it has not weighed heavily upon the minds of Mr and Mrs Darcy, if they have consented to the engagement."

Emma smiled. "Charlotte," she said, "is Lizzie's oldest friend. Furthermore, while he does not have his father's reserved manner, Julian does share his determination and strong will. He would never want to hurt his parents' feelings, but I do not think he would let them thwart him if he really loved Josie, and I think it is quite plain that he does."

James leaned across and took her hand. "One would have to be blind to miss it, Dearest. But it cannot be considered an unsuitable alliance, surely?" he asked.

"Hardly," replied his wife. "The Tates are a well-respected family in the Midlands. Anthony Tate's mother was the sister of Sir Edmond Camden, neighbours and friends of the Darcys. Their fortune is quite considerable, even without the newspaper empire Anthony has built."

By the time the day arrived for them to part, the Wilsons and their guests had grown very fond of each other. Emma told Julian that she thought he was a very fortunate young man to be engaged to such an intelligent and charming young woman. It was a judgement he heartily endorsed.

On their last evening, having spent a pleasant hour after dinner in conversation and musical entertainment provided principally by the two young misses Wilson, Victoria and Stephanie, Josie begged to be excused, since she still had some packing to complete.

Entering her room a short time later, Emma found Josie packing her trunk and offered to help. She had brought her a gift of embroidered linen for her dressing table, which Josie admired for its fine work.

As they folded and packed, Emma casually informed her that Victoria and her governess, Miss Fairfax, would be travelling with them to London.
"Victoria has to present herself for a music examination," she explained. "They will travel with you as far as Grosvenor Street, and when you break journey for the night at Rochester, would you mind if Vicky shares your room?"
Josie was conscious of her gaze as she spoke, "Of course not. Why should I? I would love to have Victoria's company."
Emma smiled very sweetly and said, "I know you are both thoroughly sensible and aware of the need for decorum; however, my dear Josie, it is very important to avoid any opportunity for untoward gossip when you and Julian are travelling together. Believe me, I speak from personal experience. I think the presence of Vicky and Miss Fairfax will ensure that you are well protected from any hint of impropriety on your journey."
Josie, grateful for Emma's concern, embraced and thanked her sincerely. Emma, who had had to exercise an exemplary degree of restraint in her own relationship with her brother-in-law after the death of her husband David Wilson, was ever conscious of the need for decorum. Like her mother, Jane, even though she let her feelings engage quite deeply, she had been determined never to permit their devaluation through gossip or malicious prattle. Her present advice to Josie was no different than the high standards she had always set herself.
On returning to London, James Wilson conveyed Josie to her aunt's house before taking Julian to the Darcys' town house at Portman Square, where he was staying the night prior to returning to Cambridge.
Josie's aunt informed her that Miss Marian Thurber had called twice and left her card. Tired from her long journey, Josie was not fit to pay much attention and went directly to her room, seeking only a bath before bed.
Julian had barely retired to his bedroom when he was disturbed by sounds downstairs, which suggested the arrival of some late callers. Minutes later, the butler appeared at his door to inform him that two gentlemen, a Mr Henry Wickham and a Mr Philip Wickham, were downstairs.
Julian, recalling his mother's advice to stay well away from the Wickhams, was quite bewildered by their sudden arrival. Going downstairs, he took them into the sitting room, where they fell into chairs and proceeded to explain that they were stranded in town, having missed their friends with whom they were to return to their barracks some miles out of London. They were only in need of a bed for the night, they claimed, and promised not to inconvenience anyone.
"We shall be gone at dawn, before you are awake," said one, and Julian thought it would be very churlish to refuse. How could he throw them out? He sent for the housekeeper and asked that a bedroom be made ready, and that they be served an early breakfast on the morrow. Expressing profound gratitude, the Wickhams were ushered upstairs.
Still rather confused, Julian returned to bed, not expecting to see them again--which was why he was totally surprised to hear, when he came down to breakfast, that the two Wickham brothers were still fast asleep. He assumed they would soon be gone and set about his own business.
Returning to Cambridge, having first called on Josie and her aunt, Julian soon forgot about the Wickhams. A fortnight later, however, he received news of them from Mr Johns, the butler, who turned up at his rooms one evening to say that the two gentlemen had not departed for several days.
"They returned to the house every night, sir, and expected to be served a late breakfast each morning. Cook has been really cross," he said, adding that they had only left after he informed them that an officer had arrived in their absence and asked questions about their whereabouts. Johns, the soul of discretion, had given as little information as possible, except to say they had left the house that morning and were not expected to return.
"They seemed rather worried and left soon afterwards, sir," he explained, then revealed that after they had gone, the maids clearing the room had noticed that a silver snuffbox and a set of tortoiseshell combs were missing from the dressing table.
"Sarah was very upset, sir, and I thought it best to inform you as soon as possible. I don't think the master will be very happy about it," he said gloomily. Julian was grateful for his concern and absolved him of all guilt, taking upon himself the responsibility for permitting the Wickhams to stay the night.
"I should have insisted that they left that morning before I did. None of this is your fault, Johns. I will write to Papa and explain everything. We should try to replace the snuffbox; it must have been quite valuable. I shall look for one when I am next in London," he said and sent Johns away, assuring him that all would be well.
However, two weeks later, the electric telegraph brought an urgent summons from his father, who expected to be at Portman Square on the following day. The Wickham brothers were back, and this time they had a few friends with them, including a couple of young women. They had virtually taken over the rooms upstairs and were ordering the servants around. Johns, in great distress, had sent an express to Pemberley requesting Mr Darcy's intervention. Short of calling in the police, he could see no way to be rid of them and hoped his master would be able to solve the problem.
Julian left immediately for London. Arriving at Portman Square, he was flung into the middle of a most undignified contretemps. The Wickhams were out, but the debris of their stay was everywhere. The servants had finally refused to take orders from the Wickhams and their friends. Knowing Mr Darcy was expected, they were bustling around getting the house back to normal, but there was a sullen atmosphere in the place. The parlour maid had complained that she had been importuned by one of the Wickhams and later harassed by his lady friend, which had driven the girl into hysterics. The cook had flatly refused to provide them with food at all hours, and the footman had grown weary of running up and down the stairs to attend to their demands for drinks and was threatening to leave.
Poor Johns--with a possible mutiny on his hands, he was at his wit's end when Julian arrived, to be followed soon afterwards by Mr Darcy, his manager, and a lawyer.
When the Wickhams returned without their friends, the brisk, businesslike manner in which they were dealt with left Julian quite amazed.
He wrote to Cassandra later that week: