More Letters From Pemberley (13 page)

My dear Jane,

I have every reason to be exceedingly cross with you, but today being the second anniversary of Cassie’s death, I should refrain from such unseemly thoughts. No, I have changed my mind. I am exceedingly vexed. That my own, best-beloved Sister should have been in collusion with my very own Husband is quite insupportable. On the other hand, the result of your conspiracy is so wonderful that you are immediately forgiven, and I congratulate you on your ability to keep a secret so well—we were with you for two whole weeks, with nary a word spoken on the subject!

Mr. Darcy is likewise forgiven. I know that he saved his piece of news for this particular day well aware that it would ease the sorrow of the anniversary. His thoughtfulness and consideration for my welfare never cease to astound me. I shall pass on the good news immediately—thank you for allowing me that privilege.

Work on the school and library progressed well during our absence. Walls and doors have been removed here and added there. Windows have been enlarged, draughts sealed, roof slates repaired, fireplaces opened up, and chimneys swept. Once this work is complete in just a few weeks, all will be whitewashed to present light, airy, but snug surroundings for learning and reading.

A few days ago, we were surprised by a visit from Sir Richard Mansfield, who arrived with his Nieces, Anna and Fanny Norland—as you know, two very fine young women for whom I have the highest regard. The surprise was not at their coming, but the reason for their mission: Fanny Norland, the youngest, has set her heart upon teaching at the school, as has her elder Sister, Anna, who also wants very much to run the library! While having no doubts at all as to their competence, Mr. Darcy felt obliged to enquire whether for young women of their station, such occupation might perhaps be considered unseemly. Almost as if he had expected such a question, Sir Richard stepped in immediately.

“My dear Sir, Mrs. Darcy, much as I appreciate your concern for my Nieces’ reputations, I beg you would have no worries on that score. My Nieces are refined young women of good education and exceptional intelligence. In teaching Children at a school founded by no lesser personages than your good selves, they would have outlets for their considerable talents and, furthermore, would be great assets to your institution—if I may say so. Young women today (at least, superior young women with active minds and able bodies) want to do more than sit in idleness until a suitor comes their way—and if any young man thinks the less of my Nieces because they have occupied themselves in useful work, he is a damned pompous snob, Sir (forgive me, Ma’am) and ain’t worth having! So, what do you say?”

Of course, we accepted immediately and with the greatest pleasure. The Children could have no better teachers and will be in the best of hands. Of course, I know it will not be for very long—while their fortunes may be small, they are both attractive, intelligent and well-connected, and will eventually make good matches, I am sure, but for the time being the school will be off to a fine beginning with teachers of such quality. The school year starts in September after the harvest is brought in and in the meanwhile, the Norlands will begin preparing lessons and lists of supplies they will need.

Jane, how exciting all this is! And I do believe that Mr. Darcy is just as enthused as I am. Needless to say, the school and library are the talk of the neighbourhood. Very little opposition has been encountered, and that from people who have had schooling themselves, if you please! Do you recall my ever mentioning a Mr. and Mrs. Randall? He is the vicar at Oakley. Now that Sir James Steventon resides in Bath, we see very little of them, thankfully, for they are not much liked in our circle. In short, they are a smug, arrogant pair, full of pretensions to the sort of contrived elegance I abhor and for which they are ill-equipped, having neither taste nor judgement. Well, Mrs. Randall was overheard saying to our vicar’s wife, Mrs. Kirkland, that while she was not greatly surprised by the news of our school and library (given that Mr. Darcy had married so far beneath himself) she felt that it was a highly questionable enterprise for persons of our rank in society. Indeed, her opinion on the subject was so strong, she had enjoined her Husband to preach of the dangers of educating the lower classes next Sunday at Oakley! Feeling very sure of herself, she was allowed to continue in this vein for some time until Mrs. Kirkland, who could stand to hear no more, interrupted, saying calmly, “So, am I to understand then, Mrs. Randall, that I should not count upon
your
assistance with the reading and writing classes
I am arranging
this autumn? For myself, I consider it an
honour and privilege
to be associated with such a worthwhile enterprise—as well as my
Christian duty
—but you must do as you see fit. Good day to you, Ma’am.” With that, she turned on her heel, leaving Mrs. Randall open-mouthed and quite speechless (a rare occurrence).

As Barford and Mr. Darcy go about, they are receiving many enquiries about the classes, and Mrs. Reynolds has been asked by several of the lower household servants if they, too, might be permitted to learn to read and write.

We had thought to meet with much more resistance, and I must say that this present interest is immensely gratifying.

But now I really must write to Kitty.

E.D.

Darling Kitty,

You may indeed wonder why I find myself in such good spirits on this unhappy day. The answer is, my dear Sister, upon your account!

Let me relate the whole story. I think you know that we were at The Great House for two weeks recently with Jane, where we at last made the acquaintance of Mr. Perrot. We met on three occasions altogether—such a very nice Gentleman, Kitty, but you know that already, of course. While we were there, completely unbeknown to me, Mr. Darcy contrived a private meeting with Mr. Perrot, abetted by Jane and Mr. Bingley. I was not to be informed until the outcome was clear, Mr. Darcy wishing to spare me any disappointment should his plan not meet with the success he hoped for.

You know, I am sure, that Mr. Darcy’s estate includes several livings. Quite recently one became vacant, the incumbent, a Widower, having retired and gone to live with his Sister in Derby. Mr. Darcy took it upon himself to talk to Mr. Perrot (not mentioning the living) thereby determining his suitability. Duly impressed, Mr. Darcy had a second, private interview with him, following which, Mr. Perrot rode to Boxwood Magna, found everything to his liking, and now it is all happily settled! Mr. Darcy’s only conditions were that Mr. Perrot’s preferment remain a secret until the anniversary of Cassie’s death when he would impart the news to me, and that I should be allowed the privilege of telling you. You will see from the date that I have lost no time in writing; indeed, I shall send this express that your happiness is delayed not a moment longer than necessary.

I should have mentioned earlier that Boxwood Magna is but 25 miles from Pemberley, and perhaps 40 miles from Jane. Mr. Darcy proposes that we visit the vicarage soon with Barford and see what repairs may be required before your arrival. Neither of them has visited there in some time but recall the vicarage as pleasantly situated and well-proportioned with a large, sheltered glebe adjoining. Once we have made our inspection, I shall be able to give you more particulars.

Dear Kitty, how happy you will be! There can be now no further reason to postpone your wedding. I dearly look forward to having you close by. When I came to Pemberley almost seven years ago, it did not enter my head that I might be so very fortunate as to have one of my Sisters in the vicinity, and now I shall have two! I feel quite giddy with anticipation.

Oh, I almost forgot! To add to my joy, a letter from Georgiana just now received announces that she is at last with Child. How will I bear so much happiness?

With affection,
Lizzy

My dear Aunt Gardiner,

It gives me unimaginable joy to tell you that we were blessed with a fine little Boy at two o’clock in the morning of Saturday, the 18th last. He is a fine, sturdy Infant, perfect and lovely, with an abundant mop of brown hair and large brown eyes. I fancy—and Jane agrees—that he takes after the Bennets; Mr. Darcy disagrees strenuously, asserting he has the Darcy forehead.

Jane was at my side and a great source of encouragement and support throughout. I am filled with gratitude that I was so mercifully dealt with, and am making a speedy recovery; indeed, I am feeling so much recovered and in such good spirits that I hope Brownley, who comes tomorrow, will permit me to quit my bed earlier than the usual two weeks—lying here only makes me fidget and fret and I long for fresh air and exercise. Jane will not countenance my getting up without permission, fearful that I may injure or overtire myself. Nothing I say will persuade her otherwise, so here I lie, but occupy my time usefully in writing to you, dear Aunt.

Oh, but perhaps I am not quite right in the head, for I see I have quite forgot to tell you his name! Since before even Annie was born, it was our intention to name a Son James Fitzwilliam (to honour his paternal Grandfather and Father). So it came as something of a surprise that when Mr. Darcy first set eyes on his newborn Son, he announced that he wanted to change the name we had long ago settled upon. Feeling just a little wronged (for we had always chosen our Children’s names together) I looked at him expectantly, trying not to show my hurt at his capriciousness.

“My dear Lizzy, away with that pained look on your lovely face!” he began, with just a hint of a smile about his lips. “Just listen to my proposal. If you are quite against it, he shall be James Fitzwilliam and that’ll be the end of it. I assure you I shall love him (and his Mother) every bit as well as if I had had my own way and he were named Bennet.”

“Bennet?” I did not yet understand.

“Yes, Bennet Fitzwilliam to be exact, though we would probably call him Ben, I think. Does not that sound well?”

“Bennet … Ben?”

“My love, you are tired and not understanding me rightly. My intention was not to confuse you, but to honour
your
Family, and your Father in particular! Perhaps you have now been so long a Darcy you have forgot you were once Miss Elizabeth
Bennet
of Longbourn in the county of Hertfordshire?”

Indeed, so I was. I had not forgot, but Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a creature I scarcely know any longer. How very far away she seems! How little she knew of life, all the while congratulating herself on her clever perception and insight into the world and its ways! Glimpses of her may still be seen occasionally: when the first warm day of summer compels her to run through the woods, not caring who sees her; or when in company she is obliged to suppress her laughter at some absurdity or other, daring herself not to catch her Husband’s eye, who knows exactly what she is about.

Ah, yes, Fortune has smiled upon that girl, bestowing upon her so many gifts: a marriage based on an ever-deepening, mutual affection; the love of a good, kind Man; the great joy of Children, Family and dear Friends; freedom from want; the strength to endure loss; and the good sense to appreciate her charmed life.

My good fortune, dearest Aunt, continues with the pleasure afforded by our anticipation of your visit at Christmas. Mr. Darcy and I agree that is much too long since we saw you last at Pemberley. What a merry party we shall be: Darcys, Bingleys, Bennets and Gardiners—and now Perrots—all together! And as the old year comes to a close, let us raise our glasses in gratitude for the many blessings bestowed upon us, and for those yet to come.

Affectionately yours,
Elizabeth D.

P.S. My Husband has requested the honour of informing my Mother of the arrival of her Grandson. I am more than happy to oblige him.

Finis

In addition to those resources already listed in
Letters from Pemberley,
the following books were also very useful:

A Lady of Distinction.
Regency Etiquette: The Mirror of Graces (1811).
Mendocino: R.L. Shep, 1997.

Blum, Stella.
Ackermann’s Costume Plates: Women’s Fashions in England 1818–1825.
New York: Dover Publications, 1978.

Booth, Bradford A.
Pride and Prejudice: Text, Background, Criticism.
Harcourt, Brace & World, 1963.

Foreman, Amanda.
Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.
HarperCollins, 1998.

Hibbert, Christopher.
Nelson: A Personal History.
Penguin Books, 1995.

Lasdun, Susan.
Making Victorians: The Drummond Children’s World 1827–1832.
London: Victor Gollancz, 1983.

Morley, John.
Regency Design: Gardens, Buildings, Interiors, Furniture.
New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1993.

Pollock, Linda.
A Lasting Relationship: Parents and Children Over Three Centuries.
Hanover: University Press of New England, 1987.

Shep, R.L.
Federalist and Regency Costume: 1790–1819.
Mendocino: R.L. Shep, 1998.

Vickery, Amanda.
The Gentleman’s Daughter: Women’s Lives in Georgian England.
New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998.

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