Regina Jeffers - Christmas at Pemberley

Mrs. Joseph sank heavily to the chair. “No!” she rasped. “You don’t understand.The baby… the baby’s coming.”

“Of what do you gentlemen speak, Colonel?” Lady Catherine demanded from her end of the table. “What are you telling my niece? Let me hear what it is.”

Edward looked up with a frown. “Actually, it’s Georgiana who holds court, Aunt. My girl has amazed us with her knowledge.” He smiled with delight.

“Miss Darcy was explaining the investments Mr. Darcy has made in her name,” Mr. Bingley added.

Lady Catherine’s eyebrow rose sharply. “I would think, Georgiana, that a lady would allow her guardian to oversee such issues. It’s not in a lady’s realm to involve herself in wealth’s creation.”

Edward smiled obligingly, but his tone spoke another language. “You are quite adept in the business world, Aunt.”

“I’ve had no other recourse, Colonel,” she said in a snit. “Sir Lewis’s passing designed for me a role I never desired. It was why I sought your counsel and Darcy’s.”

“I meant no offense,Your Ladyship,” he said contritely. “But I’ll not hear of Georgiana being criticized for having an interest in her own future. The world is changing, Lady Catherine, and I admire my cousin for her initiative.”

Georgiana glowed with his praise. “It’s Fitzwilliam’s doing. My brother insists that I be aware of my fortune. He’s set part of it aside — separate from my dowry.”

“It’s very prudent of Fitz,” Edward observed. “Your settlement shouldn’t be your only means of support. Unfortunately, even some gentlemen with titles are unscrupulous in the handling of their family wealth.”

Southland remarked, “You have our attention, Miss Darcy. Would you share your thoughts with the entire table?”

Mr. Bennet encouraged, “We could all benefit from Mr. Darcy’s insights. Despite enjoying Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Bingley’s thorough discussion of Mary’s trousseau, I would attend to news of investments. Perhaps the rest of us could consider following my son’s advice.”

Georgiana pinked, but she launched into her explanation. “Fitzwilliam is most concerned with the men’s migration from estates to the cities, but rather than bemoan his losses, my brother has embraced the changes. He has sought out ways to make the lives of those who remain more profitable, and he has followed our father’s example and invested in textile manufacturing, purified coals, construction of improved roads and man-made waterways, as well as steam-powered engines.”

“Advancements such as what Mr. Manneville described to me earlier — the one you use for cotton,” Caroline interjected.

“Yes, Miss Bingley,” Manneville answered. “The cotton gin. It’s revolutionized how we process the cotton plants.”

Georgiana rejoined the conversation. “When I was a child, my father invested in James Watt’s steam engines. Papa had holdings in Scotland and became aware of Mr. Watt’s improvements in coal mining. I’m proud to say my father was one of the first to become interested in a steam engine’s use in hauling supplies. He supported Richard Trevithick’s efforts. I suppose it was from him that my brother developed his own connections.”

“So, Darcy’s invested in this proposed railway system?” Lady Catherine said skeptically.

Georgiana ignored her aunt’s censure. Her own enthusiasm bubbled. “He has, Your Ladyship, and the outlay is proving true. Earlier this year, Mr. George Stephenson built the Locomotion for the Stockton and Darlington Railway Line.”

Bingley confirmed Georgiana’s disclosure. “I saw Stephenson’s early efforts at the Killingworth Colliery near Durham. I shan’t bore the ladies with the design details, but the July demonstration had the engine pulling eight loaded wagons.”

“How much weight?” Southland asked with interest.

“Reportedly over thirty tons.”

“And the speed?” Manneville inquired.

“Between four and five miles per hour. It’s my understanding that the man was working on another geared locomotive, which he’s named Bülcher.”

Edward asked, “After the Prussian commander?”

Bingley laughed lightly. “I wondered if it was a metaphorical remark on the gentleman’s fighting style.”

Lady Catherine’s disapproval showed when she said, “I cannot imagine a titled gentleman soiling his hands with such matters.”

Her remark struck a blow to Georgiana’s enthusiasm, and Edward wouldn’t have it. He had been enjoying the sparkle in his cousin’s eyes and her complexion’s brightness. He’d found a different Georgiana upon his return to his homeland. His cousin had transformed into a beguiling young lady. Therefore, he directed a subtle set down in his aunt’s direction. “Yet, it was my understanding that both Sir Thomas Liddle and Lord Strathmore were financial partners in the endeavor.”

Ignoring Lady Catherine’s glare, Manneville said, “Your reports of Mr. Stephenson’s efforts parallel what Oliver Evans has been doing in America. As a young man in Philadelphia, I was among the crowd gathered on the riverfront to view Evans’s Oruktor Amphibolos. Evans designed the machine to dredge and clean the city’s docks.Yet, he failed to convince the Lancaster Turnpike Company to allow him to replace their six-horse Conestoga wagons with his steam engine.”

“Do you suggest the Americans can outdo the British in this matter?” Southland challenged. “Even your famous Robert Fulton’s Clermont used British components for its engine.”

Quietly self-assured, Manneville responded, “Have we returned to that old issue, Southland? I’ve no particular allegiance to either side in this maddening separation. I’m loyal to South Carolina and to the people who depend on my plantation for their daily survival.” He held the lieutenant’s gaze before adding, “John Stevens’s Phoenix was a superior machine, and it was made of inferior American parts — so inferior, in fact, it was the first to navigate an ocean voyage.”

Edward laughed, “He has you there, Southland.” He gave his aide a warning look. It seemed that there was a constant competition between the two.

“Well, I know one idea that is purely British,” Georgiana interjected. With pleasure, Edward returned to his study of her beautiful face. Her eyes widened, and a warm feeling spread through the colonel’s chest. “You Americans cannot build a tunnel under the Thames, Mr. Manneville.”

A collective gasp passed among those at the table. “A tunnel beneath the Thames?” Miss Bingley asked incredulously. “Whatever for?”

“To be fair, Caroline,” Bingley began, “such a passage would make trade more efficient on both sides of the river.”

“Did they not try something similar between Tilbury and Gra-vesend in ’99?” Mr. Bennet asked.

“And between Rotherhithe and Wapping some five years ago?” Southland added.

“But have you not heard?” Georgiana ignored both men’s questions. She glowed with this new attention, and Edward felt his breathing tighten. “Mr. Marc Brunel’s proposed a tunnel under the river Neva in St. Petersburg. Think of the possibilities. Would it not be wonderful?”

Edward’s gaze held Georgiana’s. “If you find the concept fascinating, I embrace the possibilities also.”

“I have never heard of such folly,” Lady Catherine declared.

“Maybe not so foolish, Aunt. It’s rumored that the Duke of Wellington is considering investing in the project if Brunel can be brought on board,” Georgiana countered.

Lady Catherine snorted derisively. “The Duke should know better. My estimation of His Grace’s intelligence is in question.”

His voice distant and devoid of all expression, Edward turned the conversation. “I’ll not criticize the Duke on or off the battlefield. We’ve monopolized the conversation long enough. I believe it’s time to think more on Pemberley’s Christmastide celebration. Please tell me, Cousin, that Darcy will host his annual Boxing Day Tenants’ Ball.”

“It is far from a ball,” Lady Catherine declared.

“A matter of semantics, Your Ladyship,” Edward responded blandly. He was well aware that Lady Catherine liked to stir up emotions. The best defense remained to not rise to his aunt’s censure. “I prefer Darcy’s foray to some of the Season’s finer offerings. None of that silly ritual of dance cards and only being able to dance with a lady twice. Nor are there any manipulating mamas trying to shove some debutante into a man’s arms.”

“Mr. Darcy treats his cottagers well,” Winkler remarked with authority. “They sing his praises freely.”

Edward smiled reassuringly. “We’ll await your commands, Cousin. I’m at your exclusive disposal in settling the event’s details. Hopefully, Darcy’s coach will make an appearance by this evening.”

“I shall ask Mrs. Reynolds to meet with us, Colonel,” Georgiana said sweetly. “We shall discover what the good lady has planned and share it with the others.”

Edward’s heart flipped. She had masterfully handled what could have been a stressful meal. Between the two of them, they had fended off their aunt, and Georgiana had shown great maturity in how she conversed with the other men and how she commanded their respect. He saw no other woman at the table able to do so. It was an astounding discovery for a man accustomed to commanding his own deference.

“What do you mean? The baby’s coming?” Dread shook Elizabeth’s core. “It’s too early,” she protested. “You cannot have this child now… in this inn… there’s no doctor or midwife.”