Summer at
Pemberley
a Jane Austen fan fiction
by Lucy
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Lords and
Ladies are never shocking
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Mr. Darcy walked slowly down the passageway toward the blue
drawing room where, evidently, Lord Chiltern was awaiting his arrival. He had
not been aware that Chiltern had returned to England and could not fathom why,
if he had, he should present himself at Pemberley of all places, and at such an
eccentric hour. As he reached his hand to the door handle he had a quickly
passing recollection of Chiltern as a young man: vibrant, clever, unbridled in
manner and intent, recounting, with that marked capacity for storytelling that
he possessed, yet another argument with the late Earl regarding some recent
misadventure. Darcy entered the blue drawing room and was presented with the
back of a short and powerfully built man. Without turning at the sound of the
door closing behind Darcy, the man began to speak, his voice a clear, strong,
mellow baritone. "I took the liberty of pouring myself a brandy, Darcy.
Would you like one as well?"
"No." Darcy replied unceremoniously, waiting for
the gentleman to turn and face him. When he did so Darcy was astonished by the transformation
he saw therein. Chiltern's face was tanned, taut skinned and withered, and he
wore a full, ungainly beard. He looked, instead of a few years Darcy's senior,
as he was, a full twenty years older.
"Why Darcy!" Chiltern intoned boisterously, his great
big voice easily filling the expanse of the large, high-ceilinged room.
"You have grown into a marvelously strapping man. When last I saw you, you
were far more, what is the word?" He paused in search of the word,
flapping his hands inelegantly through the air. "Lanky, I would say. Yes.
Lanky."
"It has been several years, Chiltern. Time enough for
both of us to have altered in our appearance."
At Darcy's suggestive remark Chiltern smiled, a large
toothy smile, and a playful gleam came into his eyes that Darcy could at last
recognize. "Yes, many years. And look at me now. A veritable savage!"
"You have looked more kempt, certainly." Darcy
remarked as he came forward with his hand outstretched.
"Were you always this tall?" Chiltern inquired as
they shook hands. "Or has all the heat of the Amazon shrunk me?"
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Always pointed! On my way to Edinburgh. May I
sit?" Lord Chiltern threw himself into the nearest chair with relish and
took a large sip of brandy. "Excellent!" He exclaimed. "But the
Darcys always did have an uncanny aptitude for discerning the truly good over
the merely fine. How refreshing that we can trust in the consistency of some
people in this world." Chiltern's words were easy and confident, but Darcy
was struck by the alien nervousness in his bearing, even more so than by his
disheveled appearance and abrupt manners.
"Pemberley is not precisely in the direct route from
London to Edinburgh," Darcy observed.
"Not precisely, no, but not too far off,"
Chiltern responded, offering nothing.
"Will you be staying then?"
"If you'll have me Darcy. I will most gratefully
impose."
"Our families have a long association, Chiltern. You
hardly need ask. My wife and I would welcome your company."
"Your wife? Why of course! I should have supposed you
would be married by now. Long married, I presume."
"Only these eight months now."
"That cousin of yours they were trying to marry you
off to?"
"No."
"Some Earl's daughter? Perhaps even, with your fortune
and figure, a Duke's daughter."
"No."
"Reticent as always."
"Curious as always."
"An heiress, naturally."
"My wife is the daughter of a modest gentleman from
the southern counties."
"Well, I'll be the devil! You were one of the chaps
slated for the most eligible of girls on the marriage market. The marriage of
the season yours was meant to be. How you must have disappointed the denizens
of our fine society."
"I can assure you I did not marry to satisfy anyone
but myself," Darcy replied coolly.
"I rather admire you if you took one you actually
liked. So many of our set never bother with that little point."
"How unfortunate for them."
"Am I very abrupt?" Chiltern suddenly inquired,
taking another long sip of brandy. "You will have to forgive me. Too many
years in the wilds I fear."
"So it would seem," Darcy replied dryly, to which
Chiltern laughed delightedly. He had a robust and pleasing laugh.
"That's what I always liked about you Darcy, your dry,
mordant wit. I know none other who can be so perfectly dignified and perfectly
fiendish at once. Most people never did catch on though as I recall; you are so
deceptively proper they miss the man you are altogether. In any case, if you'll
have me, I should so like to retire for the evening. Your man said you had a
few guests. Don't ask me into the drawing room. I've had a devil of a day and
could not possibly be a credit to my name."
"I should never compel you into any society,"
Darcy responded sardonically. "If you are to be a guest under my roof, however,
you must, at the very least, be introduced to my wife."
"Oh yes, very well. Bring her here then." Darcy
stared at him for a moment in palpable astonishment at Chiltern's ostensible
dismissal of his wife; Chiltern perceived his error. "I told you I've been
in the wilds too long Darcy. I have forgotten the few manners I ever possessed.
You must recall how my mother would rattle on about my distressing lack of
decorum."
"Yes. I do seem to recall that both she and the late
Earl had much cause for concern."
"But I am not a hopeless case, I am an Earl after all.
These three years I think; I hardly remember." He bowed his head slightly.
"It would be my honor to make your wife's acquaintance, but may I request
that I do so here, in private?"
"You have grown more irreverent than ever. I should
have thought it impossible!"
"Nothing in this world is impossible, Darcy. Nothing
at all."
"I shall send for Mrs. Darcy."
The gentlemen stood as Elizabeth entered the room. Upon
beholding this disheveled, untidy gentleman next to her always fastidiously
attired husband her eyes were immediately alight with mirth; the comparison was
stark and she struggled, with little success, to contain a cheeky smile. Her
amusement did not pass unobserved by either of the gentlemen.
"Mrs. Darcy, may I introduce Lord Chiltern. We have been
acquainted with one another all our lives. His father and my uncle were
intimate friends, as were our grandfathers before them."
"So you are Darcy's wife!" Chiltern roared as he
bowed, rather messily, to Elizabeth. "I have always had a peculiar fondness
for Darcy, although I suspect he would not pay me the same compliment. If I may
say, the sight of you rather surprises me. Commanding fellow he can be I'd have
thought him married to some horribly proper, frightened creature. I can see he
has selected for himself a fiery little wife and so he must indeed be as
independent minded as I had always hoped he would become. Too much gray matter
to waste on being predictable and you, I gather, were an unpredictable
choice."
"Lord Chiltern!" Darcy admonished, appalled at
his familiarity. "You are mistaken if you believe you may address my wife
in the same unguarded manner in which you are accustomed to addressing
me!"
Elizabeth, however, found him incredibly amusing and only
wished she could share this oddity of a little man with her father. Briefly
touching Darcy's arm in reassurance, she responded to Chiltern in an equally
bold manner. "I am not certain, Lord Chiltern, whether I am to be
flattered or slighted by your commentary."
"I would hope you are flattered. I have not survived
the wilds of the Argentine and the Amazon without learning to be a quick judge
of character and you are clearly a spirited and intelligent lass. I saw it the
moment you walked through that door. It's in your carriage, but mostly I can
see it in the eyes. Poets are usually wrong, shoddy fellows that they are, but
they were right about the eyes. Everything is always revealed in the
eyes."
"I have not always found first impressions reliable,
Lord Chiltern. I trust you have better success at it than I."
"My first impressions never fail me and you have just
proven me right again! Now, as I was telling Darcy here before you entered,
I've had a devil of a day and would be much obliged for immediate rest. I trust
you will not be offended if I bypass the drawing room this evening."
"Not at all, sir. Let me ring for the housekeeper and
she will escort you to your room."
As Lord Chiltern followed Mrs. Reynolds out of the room,
Elizabeth turned to Darcy with an expression of absolute bewilderment. Before
she could speak, Darcy threw up his hands as evidence of his own bafflement.
"He is gone wild Elizabeth. He was always a singular
fellow; still, I hardly recognize him for the young man I knew. His appearance
is quite out of the ordinary and I am not sure why he has come down upon us. He
was not forthcoming. As I said earlier, we have been acquainted all our lives,
but we were never uncommonly friendly. At this hour, however, I could not do
other then offer him our roof."
"Naturally. He is a terribly peculiar gentleman, but
he is also, I would conjecture, a clever one."
"I have rarely encountered one more clever. He can
spin a tale with impressive skill. I should imagine," he added dryly,
"after spending these last seven or eight years in the Argentine he has
acquired, along with his peculiar manner, an abundance of material."
"Well, then, nothing to be bothered about, my dear. If
one must have an unexpected guest, so much the better that he be
interesting."
Darcy smiled, amused by her insouciance at having such a
singular guest thrust upon her household. "Indeed, so much the
better," he replied, offering his arm as they returned to the yellow
drawing room where he was immediately barraged with enthusiastic inquiries from
the Bingley siblings.
"Enough!" Darcy finally cried, "You shall
judge for yourselves at breakfast."
By the time breakfast was over on the following morning,
Miss Bingley was severely disappointed. Having spent a fair share of the night
contemplating the possibilities of an unattached Earl--for she had learnt that,
to the best of Darcy's knowledge, he was indeed unattached--she unhappily found
the mysterious Lord Chiltern to be a full head shorter than herself and endowed
with an air decidedly lacking in regulation. These failings she might have
overlooked had not he also, more to her irritation, shown a swift, indisputable
and obvious delight in conversing with Mrs. Darcy, almost to the exclusion of
the entire gathered party. Miss Bingley resolved, however, that it would
behoove her more to comprehend Mrs. Darcy than to resent her, and she would set
out to do just that, watching her and analyzing her with an open, impartial,
dispassionate eye. Recalling the past London season she was retrospectively
intrigued by the manner in which Mrs. Darcy had been received.
The ladies had been diverse in their assessment of the
woman who had captured the gentleman not a few had pursued with greater or
lesser degrees of eagerness and fidelity. Disappointed and disinterested ladies
alike could all agree that she was witty and intelligent. They could not agree,
however, on the extent of her beauty, her sense of fashion, the relative merits
of her independence of character, nor on the degree of talent she possessed at
the pianoforte. Those most reasonable and most disinterested concluded of Mrs.
Darcy as follows: she was pretty, without being unduly so; she was possessed of
a simple, unpretentious elegance that probably suited Mr. Darcy who was himself
known for his understated sophistication; her independence of mind, thought and
carriage, while admirable, were in no way fashionable; her talent at the
pianoforte charmingly unaffected, but by no means capital. She was, in short,
acknowledged to be very much out of the common way, but whether that was good
or bad depended entirely on the woman appraising her. Jane, in fact, had been
more admired by the ladies; she was uniformly described as very pretty and very
sweet, quite a suitable match for the genial Mr. Bingley.
In complete contrast, the gentlemen had been mixed in their
appraisal of JaneÑwhile all found her pretty, what some found a sweetness of
character others found slightly insipid. The gentlemen, however, had been
uniformly and unambiguously charmed by Mrs. Darcy, and evidently considered Mr.
Darcy to have found himself, if not perhaps an excellent connection, which he
was really not in any want of, an excellent wife, in and of herself. And here
was Lord Chiltern, yet another charmed gentleman. As Miss Bingley's primary
concern continued to be the satisfaction of her ambitions through a successful
marriage--ideally one as exceptional in its own right as was that of the former
Miss BennetÑshe was more concerned with charming the gentlemen, at this juncture,
and not so concerned with what the ladies might think. She determined,
therefore, to understand the nature of Mrs. Darcy's charm.
Her first acknowledgement, as she listened closely to the
conversation as it passed between Lord Chiltern and Mrs. Darcy, was that she
really was remarkably clever and quick, and this quickness of mind, devoid of
any acerbity, seemed to be what his lordship, and certainly Mr. Darcy before
him, found so appealing.
Lord Chiltern's admiration had not gone unnoticed by Darcy
either. Indeed, while his vanity had been secretly flattered by the admiration
Elizabeth had garnered while they were in London and while he had felt an
uncharacteristic sense of triumph with each honest expression of
congratulations where his aunt had envisaged scorn, Lord Chiltern's slightly
savage and yet curiously appealing manner grated on his serenity, and he felt
not a secretly flattered vanity but an unfamiliar discomfort. Before he could
brood upon the manifest pleasure with which his wife attended upon Lord
Chiltern's soliloquy of adventures, Matthews entered the breakfast room and
handed Darcy a small silver tray upon which sat a just arrived express.
Although Elizabeth was indeed finding his lordship's
adventures diverting and his capacity for oratory even more so, the expression
on Darcy's face as he read the express did not go unnoticed by her. Like a
curtain drawn, his expression was abruptly impenetrable and dark; his face was
still, with the telling exception of slightly flaring nostrils.
"Nothing serious I hope, Darcy?" Bingley inquired
innocently as he cut his ham.
"No." He replied tersely. "This is not an
unanticipated communication." Darcy calmly folded the letter and placed it
into his breast pocket. He looked meaningfully to Elizabeth and continued with
his breakfast, remaining quiet and sullen for the duration. Once finished, he
spoke in a voice Elizabeth now recognized as one of controlled displeasure. He
happily had not used this voice often since they wed, but it was unmistakable
nonetheless. "Bingley, I will need to attend to this express," he
remarked pulling the correspondence from his pocket and flashing it as
explanation. "Will you oblige me and show Lord Chiltern to the stables. It
is a fine morning for a ride. I am sure, Lord Chiltern, you would appreciate
the exercise."
"Oh I am in no want of exercise, Darcy." Lord
Chiltern responded. "After so many years traversing jungles and mountains
I'd rather take a more indolent approach if I might. I have had about enough of
vigorous exercise, I dare say. Society is another matter altogether and I do
not recall being in more pleasing and enchanting society in ever so much time
than I have been this morning," he added, looking frankly and openly at
Elizabeth. "Mrs. Darcy, would you care for a lazy stroll about the
gardens?"
Sitting, as was her custom during the breakfast hour, at
Darcy's side, she was vaguely aware of his clenching jaw in response to
Chiltern's casual invitation. "Thank you, but no, Lord Chiltern. Might I
encourage you to join Mr. Bingley? While I am finding your stories compelling,
I do have some business with my housekeeper this morning that can not be
delayed and so must forego the pleasure."
"You will promise me your company later this afternoon
then? I have only just begun the telling."
Elizabeth blushed mildly and felt an uncomfortable
inclination to indulge the manner of his address, despite the unguarded
familiarity of it, and felt as though she were, against her better judgment, once
again too quickly susceptible to the powers of an open countenance and easy
repartee. "I am sure we would all be delighted to be regaled with more
tales over tea."
"Let us go then, Lord Chiltern, while the morning is
young," Bingley cried, sensing the discomfort of both Elizabeth and Darcy.
Darcy immediately followed the gentlemen out of the room and retired to his
study.
"So that is Lord Chiltern!" Miss Bingley declared
as the ladies were left to themselves, her secret hopes for a desirable match completely
washed away with the morning tea.
"So it would seem," Elizabeth replied. "And
a more loquacious gentleman I defy you to find, Miss Bingley. Regardless of our
relative enthusiasm on the subject, I fear we shall all be experts on the
Argentine ere long." To which the two old rivals shared an honest, amused
laugh.
"He is an enthusiastic gentleman," Jane remarked.
"Yet he is certainly in possession of a certain charm, I think."
"I found him rather shocking in his manner and
appearance," Georgiana offered timidly.
"Earls, my dear Georgiana, lords and ladies in
general, for that matter, are never shocking," Elizabeth responded archly.
"They are, instead, charmingly exceptional."
"The immunity of title," Miss Bingley added
scathingly, as much to her own surprise as that of her companions.
The four ladies shared another cup of tea together, quietly
discussing concerns wholly unconnected to adventures in the Argentine, until
Elizabeth excused herself claiming the need to attend to some household matters.
She went directly to Darcy's study, eager to confirm her
suspicion that Lady Catherine had responded, and that not very favorably, to
Darcy's invitation. She entered without knocking on the door. Elizabeth found
Darcy seated at his desk, chair turned toward the window, legs crossed, his
elbow resting on the armrest, his hand nervously rubbing his lower lip. Staring
fixedly out the window, he looked peculiarly friendless and decidedly
displeased. Elizabeth walked over to the window and observed him for a moment
without speaking.
Evidently anticipating and awaiting her arrival, Darcy took
the correspondence from his pocket and handed it to her. "I imagine she
sent it express to underscore the urgency of her continued disapprobation.
After you read this perhaps you would be so kind as to remind me why I am
attempting to reconcile with this woman." His tone was even, but the
mingled resentment and disillusionment he felt was evident enough to Elizabeth.
July 18__
Rosings Park, Kent
Dear Nephew,
I am relieved to see you sufficiently restored to your
sense of obligation and duty as to seek reconciliation with your mother's
sister. It cannot go unnoted, however, that had you never taken leave of such
sense as would always have ensured fidelity to said duty this breach could have
never occurred. Your resentment is therefore hardly one I can credit. You
should have anticipated what occurred and humbly accepted such recriminations
as were my duty to provide at such an unfortunate moment, a duty I possess not
only as one of your nearest relations but in this particular case also as an
offended party. That said; I am not ashamed to acknowledge the pleasure of
receiving such a gesture as that which you have offered. What a disappointment
that it should be expressed with such impertinence. I see you have learned
something from your wife after all! Nevertheless, I trust you remain sensible
enough to what is good to ensure that Georgiana will not fall under such an
impression that said attitude is at all permissible in a young lady of her
rank. That you have so obviously embraced such manners is something I will
simply be required to accept as a tragic singularity of character in an
otherwise excellent man, your recent defiance of all that was expected of you notwithstanding.
All this being understood, I only add that I will not be reproached for my
behavior by any person, much less will I allow such anticipatory reproach as
you have offered. That is an impudence of such shocking proportions as I am
most certainly not accustomed to tolerating; I have no intention of
establishing such a standard. Therefore, I cannot, at this time, give a
favorable response to the tendered offer.
Yours etc.,
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Elizabeth folded the letter and wished only to remark on
the absurdity of such a dispatch. Before she could speak, however, Darcy said,
in the same restrained tone as earlier: "Pray, Elizabeth, how should you
have me respond? I am for leaving relations as they are, but I assume you will
attempt to persuade me otherwise, despite the fact that she continues to insult
you."
"She did not really insult me in this letter,"
Elizabeth replied. "I think it was more of a direct attack on you, my
dear. Nevertheless, she has softened. Why not make another effort?"
"Let us not waste time and words on the same argument
we have had these many weeks now. I concede preemptively. What would you have
me say?"
Elizabeth looked at Darcy for a moment before responding;
his features were set in disapprobation, distaste and disappointment. She was
not averse to foregoing the entire effort. Although she believed a
reconciliation was right in principal, she was growing weary of the
inharmonious moments the realization of that principal seemed to require they
suffer, and she, after all, had no personal wish to ever again see the exalted
Lady Catherine. Nevertheless, she sallied forth. "Perhaps you might simply
offer that, as you each clearly comprehend the other's opinion on this matter,
you will not continue to argue where the greater share of blame lies, that you
renew your invitation for her and your cousin to visit Pemberley and that they
will be welcomed, at their convenience, with all the civility that is their due
as near relations. Perhaps you need say nothing more and nothing less. She
clearly wishes to relent, just as you do."
As he made no reply but remained in stoic silence, she
added impatiently, "You are family, after all, as evidenced by your common
obstinacy!"
At this remark, Darcy brusquely stood, turned the chair
back toward his desk, sat down again and pulled out a piece of paper. While he
reached for his pen and opened his ink well, Elizabeth inquired, "Shall I
leave you?"
"No!" he replied curtly.
Irritated, Elizabeth walked over to his desk and threw the
letter down. "You are very cross this morning, Mr. Darcy. If I may be so
bold, I hardly think her letter merits such a display of temper. There is,
after all, nothing at all astonishing about her response. It is quite in
keeping with her character."
Darcy did not respond, instead he very quickly wrote a
reply and handed it to her; it said no more and no less than she had suggested.
"Satisfactory?" he inquired roughly when she had finished reading it.
Exasperated, she dropped his reply onto his desk where it
landed aside Lady Catherine's equally intractable letter. "You behave as
though you are granting me a favor, Mr. Darcy, and I will not have it. You seem
to have forgotten that I was the insulted party. Nevertheless I have
acknowledged the importance of restoring good-relations between the two houses
and have acted accordingly. This is for your sake and for Georgiana's; for the
sake of our children. It accomplishes nothing and satisfies no one to continue
in this ridiculous fashion. That two educated and generally sensible relations
will not rise above their implacable resentment for common cause is pitiable. I
hardly think you need to act as a spoilt child being forced to do his lessons.
If you think it a satisfactory response, send it. Henceforth I will offer no
more counsel on this matter."
She turned to leave the room but Darcy leapt from his chair
and grasped her by the wrist, halting her before she could depart. "Is
there something you have not yet told me?" He inquired breathlessly, to
Elizabeth's confusion.
"As regards?"
"You have offered a new argument today. You have said
'for the sake of our children'. Is there something you have not yet told me
regarding children?"
His face was so awash with joyful expectation that
Elizabeth answered reluctantly, almost sadly. "There is nothing I have not
told you."
"Oh." Elizabeth's earlier anger dissipated as
quickly as the disappointment of her answer reached his eyes. He sat down again
and lifted the letter she had thrown onto his desk. He read it, considering it
and Elizabeth's reproof. "I suppose I ought to write a less unfriendly
response."
"That might be a wise course, sir. Now, if you will
excuse me, I will join our sisters and Miss Bingley in the garden."
She walked to the door and as she made to exit, Darcy
called out, "Elizabeth?"
"Yes."
"Forgive me for my ill temper. It was uncalled
for."
"You are forgiven. Will you join us in the garden when
you have finished?"
"It would be my pleasure," he said. Elizabeth
smiled sweetly and departed his study.
"You are forgiven," Darcy repeated.
He picked up his aunt's correspondence and reflected for a
moment on how he had nearly lost the opportunity to win Elizabeth's heart and hand
for holding fast to the same mistaken notions that were the cause--as much as
were his aunt's disappointed hopes--of Lady Catherine's continued
disapprobation of their union. It had only been when faced, at the time of his
misbegotten proposal at Hunsford, with Elizabeth's unimpeachable principals and
firm sense of worth, her dignity and grace under assault, that he had begun to
understand the foolishness of those notions, how they did not serve to measure
character, to measure worth. He did not doubt that if Lady Catherine could only
see Elizabeth as mistress of Pemberley, see her poise and charm and capacity,
she would with time, however reluctantly, come to respect Elizabeth. He had
unqualified faith in Elizabeth's ability and he had not yet lost all belief in
his aunt's sincere concern for his welfare.
What, truly, had Lady Catherine said to him that he himself
had not said to Elizabeth on that fateful evening at the parsonage? And yet
Elizabeth had forgiven him with such completeness as to allow him the
opportunity to reveal himself to her as he wished to be seen and heard by her,
and in so doing she had come to love him. In all the discussions they had held
regarding Lady Catherine, Elizabeth--out of consideration for his feelings he
was sure--had never used the most simple argument of all, one question which he
asked of himself now. How could he not grant forgiveness to Lady Catherine for
the very same faults Elizabeth had forgiven in him? Without that forgiveness he
would not have his present happiness.
Squaring his shoulders a moment as if to prepare for a
necessarily heavy task, he took another sheet of paper and composed a new
letter. This letter took considerably more time to order. It was loyal to his
wife without being belligerent toward his aunt; it was formal without being
unfeeling, conciliatory without being weak, and welcoming without being
maudlin. Satisfied, he sealed the letter, dropped it on the silver tray for
retrieval by Matthews, and went to join his wife and their guests in the
garden.
He felt a burden lifted.
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