My
Uncle James Wilson is so incensed, he has returned to Kent in a great rage,
while Mr. Elliott has sworn never to support any of Dizzy's bills in future.
Confusion is worse confounded.
*
It
was while all this was afoot that the families met at Netherfield Park to
celebrate the wedding of Jonathan Bingley's younger daughter Teresa to the
architect from London, Mr. Frederick Fairfax. Despite the obvious happiness of
the young couple and their respective parents, the occasion was a sober one,
for no one could ignore the death of Josie, and the absence of Julian Darcy
served only to remind them of the tragedy the family had suffered only a few
months ago.
Following
the wedding, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, who had accepted an invitation from James
and Emma Wilson to spend a part of the Summer with them, travelled on to
Standish Park in Kent.
By
the same happy set of arrangements, Mrs. Gardiner, her daughter Emily with her
husband, James Courtney, and their youngest son, Jude, were afforded the
opportunity of spending the rest of Summer at Woodlands, Elizabeth's farm in
Sussex. A year after her husband's death, Mrs. Gardiner remained in low
spirits, except when she had one or two of her grandchildren around her. The
precipitate departure of her youngest son Robert and his family for Paris had
taken away two of her grandchildren and she was grateful for the company of
Emily and her family.
Emily's
husband, James Courtney, for many years now the Rector of the parish of
Kympton, was suffering from the effects of overwork, mostly the result of an
enthusiastic burst of evangelical activity with the poor Irish families in the
village. He had been ordered by his brother-in-law Dr Gardiner to rest. Which
was why Emily had welcomed her cousin Mrs. Darcy's invitation to them, to spend
the last month of Summer at the farm.
Emily,
who'd had her share of sorrow in life, was a great source of comfort to her
mother.
Her
youngest daughter Jessica, who shared her mother's enthusiasm for service to
the community, had recently been appointed by Mr. Darcy to take over the
running of the parish school at Pemberley. Well educated, a great reader, and a
compassionate young woman, she had already moved to live at Pemberley like her
mother before her.
Emily
could not resist the comparison, yet she knew their circumstances were very
different. Emily had been desolated by the death of her young husband at the
time, whereas Jessica went to Pemberley untroubled by problems of that nature,
her head and heart filled with plans and hopes for the future of her school.
She was proud and happy to be entrusted with such a responsibility.
*
Meanwhile,
at Standish Park, Mr. Darcy revealed to his hosts, who were not entirely
ignorant of his plans, that he had successfully bid for the Camden Park Estate.
Sir Thomas Camden had accepted his offer and he hoped the property would soon
be his.
"I
expect Sir Thomas will wish to have all the legal arrangements concluded before
he moves to his property in Sussex," Mr. Darcy said and, to his relief,
unlike his own family, the Wilsons expressed no misgivings about the purchase,
seeing it as a valuable addition to Mr. Darcy's estate.
Even
when he admitted that he had sold a couple of landholdings in Wales to finance
the transaction, James Wilson appeared to applaud his decision as a sensible
one. "The rapid expansion of the coal-mining industry is destroying the
beauty of the area," he said, and Mr. Darcy added, by way of explanation
for his own actions, "Indeed, and any landholder who does not lease or
sell is ultimately isolated, his land rapidly losing value, of no use for any
other purpose. I thought it sensible to sell while prices were still
favourable, especially to invest in such an excellent estate as Camden's. Our
families go back several generations and he was happy to let us acquire the
property. Besides, his price was a fair one."
Disclosing
his plan to offer the place to Richard and Cassy, he said, "Their house is
a pretty place, but it is far too small for them now; and Cassy ought be living
within closer reach of Pemberley, since she carries out most of Julian's
duties. She is also a great comfort to her mother and myself; we would enjoy
having her close to us."
Neither
James nor Emma appeared particularly surprised at his suggestion, although Emma
knew, from a letter she had received from Cassy some weeks ago, that her cousin
would not be easily persuaded to move from her present home, which held many
happy memories for her and her family. However, she saw no reason to divulge
this to the Darcys.
For
the Darcys and the Wilsons, that Summer would pass easily. Both couples enjoyed
good music, interesting conversation, and each other's company, a certain
recipe for contentment. For James Wilson, Mr. Darcy had great respect and it
was clear the feeling was mutual, while Elizabeth loved her niece Emma no less
than she loved her mother Jane, with whom she could not recall ever exchanging
a hurtful word. Like many other visitors to the Wilsons' home, Elizabeth and
Darcy enjoyed a remarkable feeling of well-being. The pleasing environment,
together with Emma's serenity and warm, affectionate nature, had the effect of
soothing her aunt's troubled feelings, and gradually, Elizabeth began to look
and feel a good deal calmer, a fact not lost upon her husband.
Her
improving humour and the return of her vivacious smile were welcome signs of
her recovery from the slough of despond, into which she had slipped the
previous Winter.
*
Back
in Derbyshire, Lizzie and Mr. Carr had been making a new acquaintance. In the
village, they had met, quite by chance, a young man who had been buying fishing
tackle and bait, in preparation, he told them, to spend the rest of Summer
walking the dales, fishing the streams, and painting. He had with him a
collection of what he modestly called "scribbles and daubs" and when Mr.
Carr and Lizzie, neither of whom could draw or paint with any degree of
distinction, saw them, they were very impressed.
Mr.
Frank Wakeham, which is how he introduced himself, appeared to have a good eye
and a genuine talent for capturing the unique quality and colours of the
ancient landscape of peaks and dales. When Carr saw that Lizzie was taken with
a particular watercolour rendering of the hills above Rushmore, he asked to
purchase it and Wakeham was delighted. Taking out his artist's brush and
palette, he signed it across the bottom right-hand corner and presented it to
her, accepting a very modest sum in return. Mr. Carr protested that the price
was too low, surely, but the artist turned fisherman insisted it was all he
wanted. Before they parted, Carr invited him to come up to the farm and paint
the scenic views, if they should take his fancy. "We have the best view of
the peaks for miles around," he said. "You are welcome to visit and
paint it if you wish," for which generous invitation Wakeham thanked him,
though he did not immediately accept the offer.
Mr.
Carr suggested that he should take the picture into Derby and have it framed.
"It will give me an excuse to take you away to the farm, so you may decide
exactly where you want it hung," he said and Lizzie blushed, but said with
some firmness, "I shall have no difficulty with that; I know exactly where
I want it."
They
decided to keep their purchase of the painting a secret and reveal it to the
family only after it was framed and hung in its appointed place, which was why
Cassy and Richard heard nothing of the artist Mr. Wakeham and his work.
Thereafter,
both Lizzie and Mr. Carr saw the young man from time to time.
Occasionally,
they met him on the street in the village or saw him having a meal at the inn;
but mostly, he was at a distance, working industriously in the valleys, sitting
on a fallen tree trunk or on rocks by running water and, quite often, at the
old quarry, which they passed on the road to Matlock, sketching some of the
strangely shaped rock formations jutting out of the ground. On very few
occasions, did they see him fishing, casting a line, or just waiting patiently
for a bite. They knew no more of him but that he was an itinerant painter, with
an interest in fishing. Certainly no one complained about him; it appeared he
kept to himself and paid his bills.
*
Returning
from the wedding of Teresa and Frederick Fairfax, where Mr. Carr had been
introduced to the rest of the family and Lizzie had received congratulations
from her cousins and aunts on her engagement, the Gardiners had returned to the
routines of their daily lives.
Except
for some medical emergencies, like the birth of twins to two women in the
village on successive afternoons, or an accident on the farm, life proceeded a
while without incident or drama.
For
Cassandra, however, in between making preparations for Lizzie's forthcoming
wedding, there was the ever-present knowledge that her father, having
successfully negotiated the purchase of Camden Park, would, on his return from
Kent, invite her and her family to live there.
Loving
him as she did, Cassy did not know how she would refuse him.
The
problem consumed much of her time and, while she did not discuss it at all with
her children, the news had got around and they all knew how she felt.
While
her parents remained in Kent with the Wilsons, she felt safe enough, but they
would soon be returning home.
Richard
knew also and was disturbed that she would not speak of it with him, mulling
over it when she was alone and changing the subject when he mentioned it. It
was as though, for the first time in their marriage, there was a problem they
could not share and resolve together.
There
was one other irritant disrupting her otherwise peaceful existence.
Her
father, aware of the innumerable tasks she was handling for him in the
management of Pemberley, had suggested that they appoint a reliable and
efficient assistant, who could handle the routine work on the estate.
Cassy
had thought this was an excellent idea and Richard had agreed.
However,
more recently, a problem had emerged, of which Cassy had no warning at all.
Having made some discreet enquiries, the manager, Mr. Grantham, had discovered
that the son of one of the Pemberley tenants intended to offer himself for the
position. The same man had applied on a previous occasion for the position of
steward at the Rushmore stud and had been turned down by Mr. Carr on the advice
of his manager.
John
Archer was an assertive young man, well dressed and well spoken, but with a
tendency to self-importance and very little familiarity with the people of the
village. Recently returned from London, where he had worked for the younger son
of a well-known, titled family for many years, he was back in Derbyshire. His
master had left for Australia, where Archer had not wished to follow him, and
he was looking for employment.
Unhappily,
while his parents were respected and liked, John Archer knew few people and
evoked their suspicions rather than their sympathy.
"My
advice, ma'am, would be to appoint another man before John Archer can approach
you. He is not the sort of man who would be able to handle our people with
discretion and tact," Mr. Grantham had advised, leaving Cassy in a
quandary.
Her
first instinct was to consult her father, who she knew would be returning to
Pemberley at the end of Summer. In his absence, she sought out Mr. Carr and
discovered that Archer had been around to the farm as well, but had not been
offered a position there either.
"I
know very little of him, Mrs. Gardiner, except he is not well liked in these
parts," Mr. Carr had said. "I was guided by the advice of Mr.
Grantham and my steward."
With
no one to consult, Cassy decided she would not appoint anyone at all, until her
father returned. It would mean that she would be kept very busy, but it was far
better, she thought, that she should carry on alone, rather than appoint
someone who might cause ill feelings among the staff and tenants.
The
decision did put a considerable strain upon her. Twice in a single week, she
had been called out to hear disputes that would normally have been settled by Mr.
Grantham alone. The first concerned the poaching of game on the estate, which
she treated very leniently, and the other, a more serious matter of a squabble
between two tenants over a piece of arable land. Neither were insoluble
problems, but in both cases Mr. Grantham had failed to conciliate between the
parties, and they had demanded that the master or his daughter intervene.
"I
am very sorry, ma'am, I did try my best; I did what the master usually does, I
asked them to speak out openly, without fear of recriminations, but it seems
they have no interest in speaking further to me. It is you they want,
ma'am," said Grantham, apologising for his lack of success.
Cassy
smiled, "Do you suppose, Mr. Grantham, that they regard me as a naive
woman and think they can pull the wool over my eyes?" she asked and he was
quick to deny this. "Indeed no, ma'am, most assuredly not. They are
convinced that you, like the master, will be fair to them and hear their
grievances."
"And
you will not?" she was incredulous, "After all these years?"