The following day the four of them drove to the estate, Mr. Greystone once again conducting a thorough tour. The housekeeper escorted Jane and Lizzy through the kitchen areas, discussing household management minutia while the men departed to further discuss business. In this instance, it was Lizzy's experience that aided. She asked pointed questions about the staff and various duties, budget, merchandise and foodstuff ordering procedures, and much more. Jane was amazed.
The house itself was easily three times the size of Longbourn, but architecturally constructed in the same simplistic country style. Vaguely Tudor in design, the two-hundred-year-old structure of grey stone included all the rooms essential for a true country manor, but with an understated elegance that lacked the opulence of a grandly prodigious mansion such as Pemberley. Gardens and pathways were naturalistic, flowing gracefully amid the babbling creek and small lake. Trees, shrubs, and flowers grew wild with minimal cultivation; the extensive main patio with granite sculptures and one fountain was the only area of formality.
The manifestation of Jane Bingley's endorsement of the Hasberry Estate was eloquently reflected by the radiant smile gracing her features. None of them, even Darcy, were unsure of her positive impression. The relief washing over Bingley's face was laughable in its intensity. Mr. Greystone was unequivocal in his delight and liberation. The readiness of Bingley to seal the purchase as soon as feasible, combined with his anxiousness to retire and pleasure at bestowing his beloved ancestral home to a young couple with a bright future, encouraged Mr. Greystone to accept Bingley over the other two hesitant parties. Before the week ended, the initial documents were signed and a down payment conferred.
Jane's only request was to forestall alerting anyone outside the immediate persons at Pemberley until they had the opportunity to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Bingley agreed. The tentative plan was to stay until after the Summer Festival with occupation of Hasberry Hall roughly three months hence. The Darcys were jubilant. Kitty assured Jane that Papa and Mama would understand. Georgiana, who had grown fond of Jane and adored Mr. Bingley, was delighted. Even Caroline displayed a charming smile at the news and asked for a tour of the Hall, kindly offering Jane dozens of decorating tips, a few of which were actually heeded.
Chapter Eighteen
Lazy Days of Summer
For the following several days, the company at Pemberley basically did absolutely nothing.
Darcy spent approximately an hour with Mr. Keith discussing estate affairs, hastily and randomly shuffled through the stack of papers on his desk, sighed and ran a hand over his face, and then walked out of the room without a backward glance. He would not even enter his study for another week. Mr. Keith had smoothly handled all pressing concerns, of which there had been few; the crops were on their own as they grew and ripened, and the various livestock were not a pressing issue as they fattened up, so not much human interference was called for. What work was mandated was efficiently managed by the tenant farmers and livestock handlers.
Therefore, Darcy was freed to attend to the onerous task of relaxing! This he embraced with a ready heart… for a time. Day after day he lounged about reading, playing billiards or chess with Bingley while they discussed sheep, entertaining the women, taking strolls with his wife, and avoiding the stables. Therein lay the down side. Darcy had not been on a horse since his brief stay at Pemberley with the Duke, and he missed the activity profoundly. It was more than the desire to ride itself that disturbed him and wore on his nerves. It was the raging need for strenuous physical activity. Darcy was a man who required a balance in his life: tranquil pursuits entailing minimal energy or concentration, enterprises offering a challenge to his intellect or that advanced his education, and labor of a concrete variety where his muscles were exercised and a healthy sweat attained. The first he was surrounded by in limitless quantities, and the second he was happy to eschew, his mind quite overdue for a caesura. To the frustration of all, the latter was impossible due to his uncle's proscription.
Lizzy, on the other hand, experienced a sort of exhaustive collapse. She slept late each day and was yawning by early evening. It was not exactly the same as the crushing fatigue encountered during the first months of her pregnancy, but reminiscent. She simply could not muster the emotional or physical energy to do anything beyond strolling about the gardens and visiting with her sisters. She did visit the stables once, the women in tow, to bring gifts to Wolfram. He capered in jubilant happiness, pausing between leaps to munch the treats she brought him. Parsifal studied Lizzy with great intensity, Lizzy actually discovering herself blushing guiltily at a horse! She did not leave Pemberley at all, the closest excursion abroad being to visit the children at the orphanage. They capered about their patroness as happily as Wolfram had, delighted with the toys and sweets she brought.
Mrs. Reynolds had proceeded efficiently with the plans for the Summer Festival as outlined before Elizabeth departed for London, so there was naught to do but wait for the day to arrive. She luxuriated in having zero demands on her person while her husband grew increasingly edgy and irritable. Twice he disappeared for several hours on long, strenuous hikes through the rough wooded areas of Pemberley, rationalizing that his legs were not injured so Dr. Darcy could not scowl at him for walking! He returned sweaty, filthy, with torn clothing, scraped hands, and brambles caught in his hair, indicating to his frowning wife that at least some rock climbing had ensued. However, the obvious pleasure and release attained from his exercise, without noticeable strain to his shoulder, prevented Lizzy from scolding.
Nevertheless, they all breathed huge sighs of relief when it was announced that a carriage and three men on horseback were approaching the manor. It was late afternoon and the occupants of Pemberley were scattered about in various pursuits. Darcy was currently in the attic storage rooms with several men assisting in the retrieval of nursery furniture from amongst the unorganized piles of boxes and ancient furnishings. Bingley had ridden over to the Hasberry property, as he had nearly every day, to learn first hand from Mr. Greystone. The older gentleman had taken quite a shine to Charles and was delightedly giving him a crash course in sheep rearing and walnut harvesting. The women sat in Lizzy's homey parlor, the windows open to the flowering garden beyond, actively discussing baby decorations.
Lizzy could not erase her vivid dream, so decided that subtle shades of blue and yellow would grace the walls. Harriet Vernor had recommended the decorator who had assisted her with their nursery, so an appointment was made for the following week. In the meantime, the women gladly offered inspired advice, more for the enjoyment of doing so than out of any real knowledge or expectation. Even Caroline chimed in now and again, apparently caught up in the enthusiasm, and was actually quilting a baby blanket. They were all shocked at the effort, and doubly at the skill she employed, as none of them would have imagined Caroline Bingley capable of wielding a sewing needle.
Thus, the footman announcing impending visitors found the ladies all bent over a baby project of some sort when he entered the room. Collectively, the fabrics and yarns were stowed as the occupants hastened from the room. Lizzy instructed Phillips to inform Mr. Darcy as she rushed to the foyer.
Entering the long, curved promenade were Dr. Darcy, Dr. Penaflor, and Colonel Fitzwilliam mounted on horseback trailed by a carriage with the Matlock crest. The females clustered on the porch as the men dismounted, Richard waving in greeting as he turned toward his parent's carriage. Dr. Darcy bounded up the steps first, sweeping Georgiana into an embrace and leaning for a kiss to Lizzy's cheek before either was fully aware of his intent. Lizzy blushed and Georgiana giggled, while Dr. Darcy's eyes swept over the house.
“Ah, Pemberley,” he said in a tone of deep affection. “How beautiful she is.” He sighed and smiled brightly. “It is good to be home!” He kissed Georgiana's forehead and turned toward Dr. Penaflor. “Did I not tell you it was the most excellent home in all of England, Raja?”
Dr. Penaflor merely nodded, busy bowing elegantly to each lady in succession. Darcy marched over the threshold at that moment, pulling his jacket over a dusty shirt in an attempt to make himself presentable, unaware of the cobwebs clinging to his hair.
“Uncle! How wonderful you have arrived. Welcome to Pemberley, Dr. Penaflor. I see you have brought the Matlocks in your wake.” Darcy shook hands with his uncle, both men grinning identically.
“Are you not too old to play adventurer in the attic William?” George asked with a brush to his nephew's hair.
Darcy swept frantically through his hair, making it worse in the process, finally laughing as he shrugged and gave up. “I was retrieving nursery furniture actually. Attics are not designed for frames such as mine.”
“Besides,” chimed in Colonel Fitzwilliam, “the game was ‘explorer’ and Darcy cannot be Marco Polo if I am not present to be Kublai Khan.” Richard mounted the last few steps, smiling broadly with a shyly smiling Anne de Bourgh on his arm, Lord and Lady Matlock following.
“Anne! How delightful.” Darcy kissed his cousin's hand. “We were so hopeful that you would visit.”
Joyful and heartfelt greetings proceeded all around as the group slowly wend their way into the house. Anne had not visited Pemberley in over five years and was thrilled to be here—and to be away from her mother. The Matlocks had cajoled, pleaded, threatened, and bribed, finally eroding Lady Catherine's will. The fact that Anne was twenty-seven and more than capable of deciding her own plans had very little bearing as far as Lady Catherine was concerned. Anne, however, was manifestly improving each day. She felt stronger and her cheeks were pink. Her daily-increasing exuberance, supplemented by her aunt and uncle's involvement, had bolstered Anne's usually timid nature and weak backbone. She had kindly but forcefully exerted herself, stating with a tremulous voice, yet unequivocally, that she was traveling to Pemberley. Lady Catherine had countered with the imperious declaration that she, therefore, would also be coming. Anne had blanched and hung her head in disappointment. Lord Matlock rapidly annihilated that threat by firmly reminding her that the Darcys had not invited her. One could almost raise a smattering of sympathy for poor Lady Catherine, who lately seemed to be receiving a lashing from nearly everyone!
Anne was immediately accosted by Georgiana, who reintroduced her to Miss Kitty, and the two were soon chatting giddily as they led Anne into the house.
“Dr. Darcy,” Lizzy began.
“It is George, Elizabeth. GEORGE.” He spoke slowly, shaking his head in mock exasperation, “Why can she not remember my name, William?”
Darcy smiled, squeezing his blushing wife's arm. “She is exhibiting proper manners, Uncle. You recall manners and propriety, I assume?”
“Ah yes. Manners: the bane of the English existence. Very well then, how may I help you, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Forgive me, George, I was hoping you could allot the time, as soon as feasible, to examine William's arm. He is frankly vexing us all with his moping glances toward the stables.” She smiled winsomely at her husband, who mumbled something about never moping.
Dr. Darcy, however, was gazing at him with raised brow and a slight lilt to his lips, “Does your arm yet pain you, William?”
“Not in the least, Uncle.”
“Even when you raise it above your head?”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Then why are you not riding your horse?”
Darcy stopped abruptly with a glare. “Because you, Doctor Darcy, ordered me not to until you examined me and gave the approval.”
George arched both brows in surprise. “Did I really say that?”
“Yes, you did,” Darcy said through gritted teeth.
“Hmmm, how odd.” George was stroking his chin in perplexity. “Although it does sound like something I would say, is that not so, Raja?”
“Yes, it does sound like you, George,” Dr. Penaflor was grinning, sparkling teeth flashing.
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