‘We will be seeing them again before long,’ said Georgiana, as she sat by the window with her needlework.

‘They are coming to Pemberley with us.’

‘I am looking forward to seeing Pemberley,’ said Mrs Annesley. ‘I understand it is a very fine estate.’

By this gentle sentence she persuaded my sister to tell her about it, and I thought how lucky I had been to find her. She has helped Georgiana to grow in confidence, and between us we will steer my sister towards a safe and happy womanhood.


Tuesday 8th July

I returned to Pemberley today, as I wanted to give Mrs Reynolds news of my impending visit, and to let her know how many guests I will be bringing. I could have written, but our conversation last night filled me with a longing to see it again.

As I turned in at the lodge and rode through the park I could not help thinking: Here I could have brought Elizabeth. I rode through the wood, following the trail upwards until I reached the top. I reined in my horse and let my eyes rest on Pemberley House, at the far side of the valley. My gaze ran over the house, its mellow stone glowing in the sunlight; on the stream in front of it; and on the wooded ridge behind.

Of all this Elizabeth could have been the mistress. But she had refused my hand. She had not allowed any considerations of position or wealth to sway her, and I honoured her for it. I did not know another woman who would have acted in such a way.

I felt again all the misery and pain of having lost her.

I rode on, descending the hill and crossing the bridge before riding to the door. As I dismounted, and stood before the house, I realized how much I would have valued her as my wife; how the liveliness of her spirits would have softened my own, and her lack of improper pride tempered mine.

I went in. I found the house well cared for, and Mrs Reynolds was pleased to know that I will be visiting with a party of friends in August.

‘It will be good to see Miss Georgiana again, sir.’

‘She is looking forward to being here. She misses Pemberley.’

If Elizabeth had accepted my hand, Georgiana would be living here again, not on her own, but with her family. She and Elizabeth would have been sisters…but I must not torture myself.

I went round the home farm with Johnson, and saw the repairs he had commissioned. He is an asset to the estate, and I am glad to have him.

When I returned to the house, Mrs Reynolds had drawn up a plan of the rooms, allotting to Bingley and his sisters their usual chambers. They will be staying with me on my return. She had also drawn up a selection of menus. I gave them my approval, and spent the evening in discussing with her some changes I would like to see in the east wing, before retiring to bed.


Friday 18th July

I returned to town, and mean to finish my business before spending the rest of the summer at Pemberley.


Saturday 19th July

I was surprised to see Bingley today, when I was riding in the park.

‘I thought you were visiting your cousin,’ I said to him.

‘I was, but I have come back a week early. You are right about me, you see, I have no constancy.’

I was glad of the opening this offered me.

‘I thought, in one matter, perhaps you had,’ I ventured.

‘Oh?’

He said no more, but I could see where his thoughts were tending.

‘Did I tell you I visited Rosings at Easter?’ I asked. ‘I went to stay with my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.’

‘Yes, I believe I heard something of it,’ said Bingley without interest. ‘I hope Lady Catherine is well?’

‘Yes, thank you. She was in good health and spirits. She had visitors staying with her, a party from Longbourn.’

He changed colour at this.

‘Longbourn? I did not know that. What were they doing in Kent?’ he asked, as we turned into the park.

‘They were visiting the rectory. Perhaps you remember Mr Collins, a heavy young man who was a rector in my aunt’s parish?’

‘No, I cannot think I do.’

‘He was staying at Longbourn before Christmas. He attended the ball at Netherfield, with the Bennets.’

‘Ah, now I remember. There was a rumour he was to marry Elizabeth Bennet.’

‘It was nothing but a rumour. ’ Thank God, I thought.

‘He did find a wife, however, and married Charlotte Lucas.’

‘The charming daughter of Sir William?’ asked Bingley, turning towards me.

‘Yes.’

‘A good match,’ he said, pleased. ‘I know she wanted her own establishment. I am happy for her. Was she in good spirits when you saw her?’

‘Yes. She had reason to be so. Her family were paying her a visit. Her father and sister were staying with her. Sir William stayed only a week, but her sister Maria stayed with her longer. ’ I paused. ‘She had another visitor, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’

He started, but said only: ‘Yes, I believe they were friends. ’ After a moment he said: ‘Was she well?’

‘She was.’

‘I liked Miss Elizabeth Bennet very much. She was as lively a girl as one could ever wish to meet. And her parents, were they well?’

‘Yes, I believe so.’

‘And her…sisters?’ he asked, studiously ignoring my gaze.

‘They were well, although Miss Bennet I believe was not in spirits.’

‘No?’ he asked, torn between hope and concern.

‘No,’ I said firmly.

‘She missed her sister, perhaps. She was very fond of her, and would not want to be parted from her.’

‘She had been in low spirits before her sister left.’

‘She missed Caroline, then. They saw a great deal of each other when we were all at Netherfield, and were friends.’

‘Perhaps. But it is not usual for a young lady to fall into low spirits because her friend has gone.’

‘No.’

He hesitated, then said: ‘What do you think, Darcy?

Should I give up Netherfield?’

‘Is that what you wish to do?’

‘I am undecided. It is a fine house, and a fine country, and the company was good – though, perhaps, not what you are used to,’ he said with a trace of anxiety.

‘Perhaps not, but there were several people who made the neighbourhood very pleasant.’

‘Indeed. Sir William had been presented at St James’s.’

‘I was not thinking of Sir William.’

Though I was meant to be helping my friend, I could not prevent an image of Elizabeth rising before my eyes.

‘I might perhaps go there for a few weeks towards the end of the summer. What do you say to that idea?’ he asked.

‘I think it an excellent one.’

‘Then I think I will go after my visit to Pemberley.’

I said no more. I do not wish to give him too much hope, lest Jane should have put her hurt aside and become attached to one of the neighbouring young men. But if he returns to the neighbourhood, then a very little time will show them if they are meant to be together, and this time, I will not be so impertinent as to interfere.

August

Sunday 3rd August

Bingley and his sisters joined Georgiana and me soon after breakfast and we set out for Pemberley. To begin with, Caroline talked of her visit to her cousin, but then her conversation turned to flattery.

‘What a fine coach you have, Mr Darcy,’ she said, as it rattled through the streets. ‘Charles has nothing like it. I keep telling him he should buy something in this style.’

‘My dear Caroline, if I bought everything you wanted me to buy I would be bankrupt by the end of the year!’ said Bingley.

‘Nonsense. Every gentleman should have his coach, should he not, Mr Darcy?’ she asked.

‘It is certainly useful,’ I admitted.

‘Darcy! I relied on you to take my part! I was sure you would think it an extravagance.’

‘If you mean to travel a great deal, then it is cheaper than hiring a coach.’

‘There you are,’ said Caroline, directing a smile at me.

‘Mr Darcy agrees with me. How companionable it is when two people have but one mind. You should have squabs in just this colour, Charles,’ she said, looking at the seats.

‘I shall make sure they are in a completely different colour,’ he returned, ‘otherwise I will not know which is my coach and which is Darcy’s.’

‘How comfortable it is,’ said Caroline. ‘Is it not, Georgiana?’ she asked, appealing to my sister.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Georgiana.

‘And how well sprung. Charles, you must make sure your coach uses just these springs.’

‘If I do, Darcy’s coach will be sadly uncomfortable without them.’

‘And you must have a writing desk built into the coach.’

‘I dislike writing letters when I am still, and I have no intention of doing it whilst being jolted over every rut and pothole.’

‘But your fellow travellers might like to write. What do you say, Georgiana? Would it not be useful?’

‘Yes,’ my sister ventured.

‘There you are, Charles. Georgiana thinks it would be useful, and not only for writing, I am sure. It would also be useful for sketching. How is your sketching progressing?’ she asked Georgiana.

‘Well, I thank you.’

‘My sister gave me a sketch of Hyde Park only last week,’ I said.

‘And was it prettily done?’ Caroline asked.

‘It was very well done indeed,’ I said with a warm smile.

‘I remember my own schooldays. How I loved to sketch! You must let me see the picture, Georgiana.’

‘I left it in London,’ my sister said.

‘No matter. I will see it the next time we meet.’

We travelled in easy stages and stopped for the night at the Black Bull. It is a respectable hostelry. The food is good and the rooms comfortable. I have told my man to wake me early. I have some letters to write before we travel on.