A Constant Love: A Pride & Prejudice Continuation, page 32
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Clareborne Manor and Kellmore Abbey were within fifteen miles of each other, so that both could be seen in one day, and on the following day the Darcys and Bingleys set out, again in the landau.
It took better than two hours to reach Clareborne Manor, but it was a pleasant drive, and much of the countryside was unfamiliar to Elizabeth – she came to realise that Jane and Charles must have seen far more of Derbyshire than she had. There were some farms and smaller estates, but also areas of great wildness, and she thought she might propose an expedition merely for expedition’s sake sometime in the future, perhaps when her aunt and uncle came to visit.
Clareborne Manor was first, a great stone structure, grown shabby, poorly situated on low ground in a little hollow between open field and forest. The housekeeper let them in, but they saw no evidence of any other staff, and as soon as they made their way into the entrance-hall, Elizabeth saw that Jane’s assessment of it needing a great deal of repair on the house was generous. They could not enter a room without finding some deficiency, and there were places where water had got in and stood in little pools on the floor. It would not be a comfortable or even a dry house for some time, and Elizabeth could not fathom living here with a new baby.
She was relieved when, after looking over the estate books for some time, Darcy suggested they have a little drive around the grounds, and here the estate was quite beautiful, somewhat like Pemberley in its mixture of rolling hills and forest. They drove out a little further, to view some of the tenant farms, and although it was clear they were not kept up to the same standard as those of Pemberley’s tenants, the land was fertile, and would provide a good return.
It was, as Jane had indicated, the opposite of Kellmore Abbey, where many of the farms were vacant, or at least seemed to be, and the estate’s grounds were mediocre at best. Here, it seemed all the money had gone into the house, which was indeed spectacular, an old rambling gothic building in perfect repair. Here she and Jane made their way from room to room, exploring, while their husbands spent nearly an hour looking at the books.
By the time they made their way back to the landau, Elizabeth, who had eaten very little at breakfast, was quite hungry and feared they would be late for dinner. Her concerns were somewhat allayed when Darcy got the landau moving at a cracking pace; this was his best carriage team, and the horses had wanted only a little rest while the couples had been inside.
“Well, Darcy, what do you think?” Charles asked, as they raised the main road back to Pemberley, looking very much like an eager terrier. “Which do you prefer? Or neither?”
“I will give you my answer if you choose, but you may not like it.”
“Do not be silly, Darcy, we have been friends far too long for me to think you would mince your words.”
“Go with the land,” Darcy said. “Kellmore Abbey may take years to recover from its present neglect. I had never seen it before, but I know it quite well – I have several tenants who have come to Pemberley from there. I can send Richardson to examine the soil, but I am fairly certain he will say it is completely sapped, at least for the farms that are still being worked. How an estate can go without crop rotation in the modern era is beyond my comprehension.”
“You said go with the land,” Charles said. “Does that mean you are for Clareborne Manor?”
“I am, but here is where you may not like what I have to say. The house – I would recommend tearing it down and beginning again, in a better location, and with a better style.”
“Tear it down? You cannot be serious.”
“I am completely serious,” Darcy said, with such a dour expression Elizabeth very nearly laughed. Indeed she might have, if Charles did not look so disappointed.
“Charles, you must admit that house is hardly the place to raise a newborn baby in,” Elizabeth said.
“It is better than a pile of stone, which is what you both seem to recommend.”
“Nonsense, Charles,” Darcy said. “Pemberley is close enough that you might ride over every day, to check on the progress and see to your tenants. If you like, keep the old house standing at first, for there are any number of locations where a new house might be situated better. But do not make Jane and the baby take up residence there. You are both welcome at Pemberley for as long as you need.”
“You really think this is the best course of action?”
“The purchase price is a bargain,” Darcy said. “Even with the expense of building a new house, you will be doing quite well. You might start with a core house, and then add on wings in later years, as they are needed. And you may build exactly to your taste, which is something few gentlemen have the luxury of doing.”
“Oh, now you will tell me that Pemberley is not quite to your taste,” Charles said.
“There are some things I might change, were I to build it from the ground up.”
“Dear husband,” Elizabeth said, turning to touch his shoulder. “You might stop talking now, for none except you in this carriage can be brought to believe Pemberley has any flaws.”
Chapter 6
They went riding the next day, Elizabeth and Darcy, Elizabeth still on old Buttercup, and in the happiest of moods, which owed partly to their destination. They had opted to return to the old house on this morning, followed at a distance by a groom on horseback, who would watch their horses while they explored the ruins.
Elizabeth considered as she cantered through the woods that now, just when she was beginning to enjoy horseback riding, she would have to face giving it up, for certainly she would reach a point soon enough where she did not feel comfortable riding even Buttercup. The sight of the ruins was not novel this time, when they reached the clearing, but she still delighted in it, as she did the way her husband assisted her down from Buttercup’s saddle with his hands firmly on her hips.
For the groom, watching the horses seemed to consist of tying his own mount and Buttercup to a nearby tree branch, and then walking Kestrel in restless circles. They left him thus, and made their way to the uneven stone wall that had once been the front of the house, mottled with weather.
In most places, the walls were still taller than Elizabeth, and once they had gone through what had been the front door, she could see that the rear of the house was more intact than the front – rising up nearly two storeys in places, with its old window openings largely choked with vines and tree branches, only allowing in a little sunlight here or there. There were little hints in places to indicate where rooms might have been, but the most wonderful feature was a large stone staircase, still largely intact, curving up just beyond the entrance into nowhere.
“It is stunning,” Elizabeth breathed. “You shall have to check more than the secret room in the library now, if you find I have gone missing.”
“I shall check the stables, then, to see if Buttercup is also missing, so I will at least know where to begin my search.”
Elizabeth had for so long been acting as Mrs. Darcy that she was a bit surprised at how easily she slipped back into the young girl who had devoured gothic novels, taking up his arm and leading them in a walk along the outer walls. The floor had long since gone to grass and weeds, but it seemed they had been trimmed recently, and she wondered if Darcy had sent one of the junior gardeners here on the task, anticipating their visit. She could not help but look down periodically, scanning the ground for the toys of her husband and his cousin, but she did not see anything there which caught her eye.
“Is it strange to think of your ancestors living here, once?” she asked him.
“Indeed it is,” he said. “They were the D’Arcys, with an apostrophe, for most of their time in this house. They changed it to Darcy at some time after the Plantagenet dynasty fell. I understand there was a desire to sound less French.”
Elizabeth considered what he had said, and what it meant for what she was now only a few days away from being fully sure was the child in her womb. If she should have only girls, it would be beyond breaking an entail, it would be the end of – as Lady Catherine had called it – an honourable and ancient line that had come down through Darcy’s father. She only asked him about the entail, however.
“Darcy, is Pemberley entailed?”
He stopped walking and looked at her, his countenance thoughtful, “That is a very strange question for a walk through ruins on a country morning, Elizabeth.”
“I did not think it that strange, when we were speaking of your ancestors. And you did not answer my question.”
“It is not entailed; it never has been. It saved my family quite a lot of worry when my mother failed to produce the usual heir and a spare, although I suppose my parents were even more careful of my welfare than they might otherwise have been – at least while they were alive.”
“Were there any children – between you and Georgiana?”
“Three stillborn, and rather a lot of miscarriages,” Darcy said, looking pained. “Or so I understood from my father later. I did not truly understand what was happening at the time.”
“I do not even know if my mother had any miscarriages. I must assume she did, or she might have had even more children, but it was never made known to us.”
He looked at her carefully again, and said: “You did not answer my question, either.”
“I do not remember you asking one.”
“Oh come, Elizabeth, I wished to know why you would be asking about whether the estate was entailed.”
“Because I have not produced even the slightest hint of an heir, is that right?” Elizabeth had not meant to sound challenging, and yet that had been her tone; and she tried to soften her countenance. She had not meant to begin this discussion now, and yet she had, most poorly, and she had only the comfort of knowing that it should likely have the happiest of outcomes.
“Because we have not produced an heir,” he said. “It is not your responsibility alone.”
Elizabeth had only once before seen him look so devastated, when she had first refused his offer of marriage, and she felt her own eyes overflow with tears, to think this had been such a hurtful topic for him, as well, and she had never had the courage to broach it with him.
“I am sorry, Elizabeth, I did not mean to make you cry. I think we may have a happy marriage, even if we are not blessed with children,” he said, taking up her hand and grasping it tightly.
“You mistake the reason for my tears,” she said. “I am nearly at five weeks without my courses. Sarah says I have the other symptoms – she is the eldest of eleven. I asked about the entail because Jane believes we are more likely to have girls, on account of our mother having nothing but.”
Darcy was usually a man of quick comprehension, but it took him some time to absorb this news, and when he finally did, he pulled her into the tightest of embraces, kissing any part of her available to him – her hair, her cheek, her neck, her lips – before finally asking: “Why did you not tell me as soon as you suspected it?”
“I could not bear to raise your hopes and then be wrong.”
“I would rather you raised them, but I will leave that for now,” he said. “Why now, after so long? You have not – miscarried – have you? Please say you would have told me, if you had gone through such a thing. It pains me more than I can say to think of you having felt you needed to bear it alone.”
“I have not – of course I would have told you if I had lost a child,” Elizabeth said. “There was nothing of the sort. After a while, I feared I was barren.”
“And I must tell you I feared the opposite.” Even now, while they spoke of such a difficult topic, he would not release her from his grasp, and Elizabeth felt so comforted she might have told him anything, but she had no secrets left to share.
“Sarah had a theory, that the climate of London was not conducive to conceiving a child,” Elizabeth said.
“Is Sarah also a secret physician?”
“No,” Elizabeth laughed. “But I can think of no better explanation.”
“Elizabeth – we must never again fear speaking of this to each other. It seems a shameful topic, but I cannot tell you what a burden I feel has been lifted from me, and it is not just the possibility of a child.”
“I completely agree, my dear,” she said, taking up his face in her hands and then kissing him, feeling most infinitely relieved.
“Tell me, was this the cause of some of your malaise in town?”
“It was, although if Sarah’s theory is correct, it seems the two were intertwined.”
“Well, we need never spend that much time in town again, and you must not worry at all about Pemberley leaving our immediate family,” he said. “If the child is a girl, she may still inherit the estate if we do not have any sons, and even if, God forbid, the child should not survive, the succession is left in my hands. Currently, Georgiana or her heirs would inherit, should anything happen to myself – that was the wish of our father.”
Elizabeth sighed, “Poor Georgiana. I hope beyond all things that the child is healthy, but the thought of how far she is from marriage, much less heirs, saddens me deeply. I may have grown weary of town, but, as I think back, I do not regret the time we spent there – it was the least we could do for Georgiana and Kitty. It was their due.”
“Yes, but in the future we might rely on Mrs. Annesley more. At some point Kitty will even be married, and I expect she would enjoy staying with Georgiana in town, particularly if Captain Ramsey is at sea, and then we may spend more of our time at Pemberley,” he said. “For Elizabeth, I must tell you, I can hardly stand the thought of spending any more time apart from you, after what happened with the riots.”
“I cannot say I am willing to be parted from you, either, my dear. You and I and our little one must stay together,” she said.
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One of the traditions Elizabeth had begun, following her early attempts to learn to ride, was a bath following her outings. This languid time in the warm water would always have been restorative for those muscles she had never really used before, but with her pregnancy had come additional soreness in most unexpected places, and she now saw it as a necessity. The bath could do nothing about the lingering tenderness of her lips, but as that had been the result of her husband’s learning of her pregnancy, she was perfectly happy to retain that reminder of his own happiness.
Sarah saw to everything perfectly, from the water brought up warm from the kitchen to the lavender oil that was added to it. Elizabeth trusted Sarah with a fairly liberal allowance, to purchase things seeing to her lady’s needs, and as she sank down into the water and inhaled deeply, she felt most confident that it was being well-spent.
This was a time where she allowed herself to relax, and her thoughts to wander, and she revelled again at being back in the country, at being at Pemberley. Mrs. Reynolds could see to things for days on end, if needed, and Elizabeth could seek society only as often as she herself wished it. She had every luxury at her disposal, from her ever-growing set of dresses and jewellery to the days she spent in leisurely walks or rides across the most beautiful of grounds. She lived in a handsome and comfortable estate – her own chamber’s furniture notwithstanding – and had easy access to a most incredible library.
“And now, finally,” she could not help but think, “I have earned all that I have been given. I have justified myself by becoming with child, and soon enough if all goes as I pray it will, I shall have something far more precious than any luxury that can be provided, even with ten thousand pounds a year.”
Yet she could not help but think that there had been nothing in Darcy’s demeanour, in telling him she thought herself to be with child, which had indicated she needed to justify herself. He had not laid the responsibility on her; he had been every bit the kind and wonderful man she had known she married.
“You are very beautiful when you are deep in thought,” came the low voice that could only be her husband’s, from the doorway behind her.
Elizabeth started so that some of the bath water splashed out onto the floor. She could have no grounds for understanding what propriety was in her current situation, but she was fairly certain that this was not it, and she felt herself grow most overheated.
“Am I to understand that you have taken a position as my lady’s maid?” she asked, thinking teasing to be her best course of action. “For I can think of no other reason for your presence here, and I believe Sarah may have objections at your usurping her role.”
“Perhaps I shall take her role as lady’s maid, so that she may continue as your secret physician,” he said.
“Do not tease on her account. It might have been weeks more before I realised I was with child, were it not for how observant she was.”
“And how secretive,” he said. “I thought something was odd in her behaviour, the morning of your headache, but I could not figure why.”
“That was the morning we realised I was pregnant. I was too emotional to go down to breakfast, and could only think to claim a headache. Sarah had concerns over my drinking the willow bark tea,” Elizabeth rested her hands protectively over her belly. “It might only be an Irish superstition, but I would rather be safe than sorry.”
“I would rather you did, as well,” he said, slipping his hand into the water to place it on her stomach alongside hers. “Here is the next master of Pemberley.”
“Darcy,” she warned urgently. “Do not forget that all of my children may well be girls.”
“Do not worry so, Elizabeth. If it is a girl, and she takes after her mother, I have no doubt of her capacity to be master of Pemberley.”
Elizabeth blushed at the notion, and then felt fully the most pleasant danger of his hand’s present location, such a short distance to those most sensitive places in her being, a danger that was confirmed presently. She caught fully the amorous expression on his face, and knew he would not be content with merely leaving her dressing room having touched her stomach.
“Darcy, the deed is already done, successfully – this is merely overkill.”
