I was, this morning, sitting at my bedroom window looking out over the park when, to my great surprise, a carriage drew up and your dear mother alighted.
I was not merely surprised that she had condescended to call on me, but also at how cordial and kind she was. No, indeed, she was truly affectionate--cordial is too cold a word for the warmth and sincerity of her words and manner. Having only met Mrs Darcy along with others in my family before today, I was naturally a little apprehensive, especially since with Papa and Mama away, I had to entertain her myself.
Your mother is so elegant and handsome that I have always been in awe of her, but it seems I was needlessly anxious, for she was friendliness itself.
And so she proceeded for another two pages or more.
Elizabeth, having reassured her future daughter-in-law, left asking that her compliments be conveyed to Mr and Mrs Tate. She promised that, on Julian's return, they would all dine together at Pemberley.
There was just one thing she had asked Josie to consider. "Josie, my dear, if you are going to be staying in London for any length of time, and if you and Julian intend to meet and be seen around town, would it not be more seemly if you became formally engaged? While a secret engagement is undoubtedly romantic, there is sound common sense in the argument that a clear indication of your intentions will protect you from malicious gossip."
It was an argument whose validity Josie could not deny.
Later that day, as they journeyed at a leisurely pace to Ashford Park, Elizabeth told Darcy of her meeting with Josie, and the parallel with Lady Catherine de Bourgh's visit to Longbourn was irresistible. Though it had happened many years ago, it had remained a matter of much hilarity in their close circle of family and friends. Elizabeth had been often urged to provide a dramatic recital of the encounter between herself and Lady Catherine, and, having ascertained that her husband would not be offended, she would occasionally oblige.
Darcy had decided that on this occasion, she would be teased. "And Lizzie, do you think young Miss Tate was as puzzled by your arrival as you were by the appearance of Lady Catherine at Longbourn?" he asked so casually that she did not immediately suspect his intention.
"No, indeed," she answered. "She may have been slightly nervous, perhaps, but I believe she coped very well; if she was daunted, she did not show it, and it was certainly not my intention to alarm or intimidate her."
Catching the mischief in his tone, she retorted, "Oh, please, you are surely not suggesting that I was trying to browbeat young Josie? I have neither the desire nor the inclination to do such a thing."
She sounded quite put out; he relented and, smiling broadly, let her see that he was teasing her, when he said, "No more than I would suggest that Miss Tate would allow herself to be put upon. She appears to be a sensible young woman with a mind of her own, well able to look after herself, even at nineteen. Not unlike another woman of my acquaintance, who is the only person I know undaunted by Lady Catherine's sense of self-importance, who was able to tell her to mind her own business!"
This time they both laughed, enjoying the memory, before acknowledging that they did owe some of their happiness to Lady Catherine's interference. "Indeed, had she not driven directly to London, in high dudgeon, to confront me with your defiance, I may never have realised there was still hope for me," he said, reaching for her hand. "Dear Lizzie, I had not dreamed that I would ever be grateful to my aunt for any measure of my happiness."
"Nor I," said his wife. "When I first made her acquaintance at Rosings, it was the very last thing I would have anticipated; but, if the truth were told, she has contributed, however unwittingly, quite significantly to it."
This was sufficient to start them talking of times past--of the difficult and sad times, the many good times they had known and how their lives had changed over the years. It was a favourite pastime and kept them occupied until the carriage took the fork in the road to Ashford Park.
Jane and Charles Bingley remained, along with the Gardiners, their most favourite companions. The two sisters were as close as ever, and between Darcy and Charles there was a strong friendship based upon trust and regard, nurtured over many years. There was no place they visited with greater pleasure.
That evening, the family gathered for a celebratory dinner party on the occasion of the engagement of Louisa Bingley to Doctor Matthew Ward. A bigger function had at first been planned, but then had been abandoned upon the untimely death of Mr Ward's mother a month ago. Indeed, Louisa had asked him if he would prefer to postpone the engagement, but the bereft young man had said no, whereupon the Bingleys, with their usual good taste and discretion, suggested a modest family gathering. Not wishing to disappoint his daughter, her father had said, "You shall have a ball later, Louisa, before your wedding in the Spring."
But Louisa, who resembled her mother more in her nature than in looks, had replied gently, "Papa, it matters little to me if we have a ball or not. I am most anxious to ensure that Matthew and his father are made really welcome in our family. They both miss Mrs Ward terribly."
It was generally agreed that this could be best achieved at an intimate dinner party for their closest friends and family. On hearing this piece of information, Elizabeth had remarked that young women appeared to be growing more sensible by the day. The Bingley girls, like Josie Tate and Caroline Fitzwilliam's daughter, Amy, were a far cry from the feckless, silly creatures who had been the bane of Meryton society when they were growing up. Memories of the youthful follies of their own younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia, were quickly dispatched with a shudder as being too painful to contemplate.
After most of the guests had departed, Darcy and Bingley retired to the games room to renew their interest in a frame of billiards and discuss the current political situation, while Jane and Elizabeth went upstairs to enjoy a cup of tea together. It was their favourite way to end a long day.
Both sisters had plenty to talk about. Jane had good and bad news to give. Sophie was expecting her first child, and Amelia-Jane was soon to be delivered of her fourth. Elizabeth noted with a smile that nothing seemed to please her dear sister more than new additions to her growing family! "They are all such sweet, good children, for the most part, Lizzie," Jane declared, but Elizabeth was not altogether deceived. She had heard that an indulgent grandmother had rather ruined Jonathan and Amelia-Jane's little boy, but then, what were grandparents for, she argued, if, having raised their own children in an exemplary manner, they were not to be permitted to spoil their grandchildren!
The bad news came in the form of an unwelcome report from Lydia, who had informed Jane that her two eldest sons, Henry and Philip, had joined the Volunteers, which had replaced the Militia in which their father had served when he had first become acquainted with the Bennet family. "They are to be stationed just outside London, she says. Lizzie, I cannot imagine that they will do very much more than strut around in uniform. Lydia claims that there is some new threat from France, but Bingley and Jonathan are convinced it is a lot of nonsense," said Jane, dismissing the threat from France.
Elizabeth was less sanguine. "I am a good deal more concerned about the threat of the Wickhams loose in London society, Jane," she declared. "I must tell Darcy he should advise Julian to avoid them at all costs. The Wickhams have always been trouble, and I would much rather Julian had nothing to do with them. He is so amiable and unsuspicious and could quite easily be taken in."
Jane agreed, reminding her sister of the problems of their cousin, Robert Gardiner, who had been deceived by his fine friends in an episode that had caused a great deal of pain to his parents. "I am sure Julian will never be so deceived, Lizzie," said Jane, "but it will be well for him to be forewarned."
Speaking of Julian brought Elizabeth to the big news of the moment. Taking out the letter she had received from her son only that morning, she put it in Jane's hands without comment. Settling back to enjoy her tea, she expected to hear cries of astonishment, but, amazingly, Jane read it right through and handed it back with a smile, saying, "Such a sweet letter, Lizzie, so sincere and honest. You are truly fortunate in your son."
Elizabeth was bemused. This generous praise for his style was all very well, but was she not going to remark upon the content of the letter? Before she could say anything, however, Jane poured herself a cup of tea and said gently, "Bingley and I have wondered when you and Mr Darcy were going to tell us. We were afraid you may have disapproved of the match and were therefore unwilling to give the young couple your blessing."
Elizabeth was completely confounded by her sister's remark. "What do you mean? Now, Jane, tell me--have you known of this romance for all of this time?" she asked, her voice betraying her astonishment.
Jane smiled and nodded. She did not mean to gloat; it was not in her nature to do so. She was almost apologetic as she explained, "Dear Lizzie, you must not be angry. Remember only that Amelia-Jane is Josie's aunt. She spent a fortnight with the Tates in Spring, when Jonathan was in Europe on business, and noticed that Julian visited Josie almost every day. To her mind it had seemed they were already engaged, so openly were their affections expressed. Were you not aware of this at the time?"
"No, indeed," said her sister, understanding more fully now how the news of the couple's romance must have become common knowledge. That Jane and Bingley and Jonathan and Amelia-Jane had all known before Darcy and herself was perplexing, even hurtful. She was, however, even more grateful now for Julian's letter. It would have been humiliating to be in ignorance and have no word from their son.
When Darcy and Bingley came upstairs, and they retired to their rooms for the night, Elizabeth told her husband of Jane's remarks. Darcy's response was lighthearted. "There, you see, Lizzie, it is always good to be well armed with information when one travels from home, even if it is about one's own children. Now that's out of the way, we can concentrate on worrying about their future happiness."
As if on cue, she asked, "Can you be sure they will be happy? They are both still very young."
Darcy refused to be anxious, "Their youth need not preclude them from making sensible choices, especially since they have known one another all their lives."
Seeing some uncertainty in her eyes, he sought to reassure her. "Lizzie, my dear, they are both obviously in love. Julian will not have made a foolish choice. He has far too much good sense. And from a purely practical point of view, it is certainly not an imprudent match for either of them. As for Josie, I believe that she, even more than her mother, has inherited much of your friend Charlotte's sound common sense. We know, from Julian's letter, that she is keen to become a serious writer. This does not suggest that she is some frivolous young woman unworthy of our son, but rather a thoughtful and sensible one with a mind of her own. I think we can confidently leave their happiness in their own hands, do you not, my dear?"
Elizabeth was easily persuaded that he was right to have confidence in their son's ability to make the right choice of partner. There was no reason why he and Josie should not be happy together. Neither Pride nor Prejudice would have any part in it.
A day or two later, Mr and Mrs Tate, having regard to the fact that Elizabeth had called on them and missed them, returned the courtesy and travelled to Pemberley to wait on Mr and Mrs Darcy.
This acknowledgement of the engagement of their children's affections was the first stage of the establishment of a closer connection between their families. Mr Darcy had known Anthony Tate all his life, first as the young son of a good neighbour and later as an influential publisher, while Becky Collins, as her friend Charlotte's daughter, had been no stranger to Elizabeth. Though the families had not been particularly close, there had been no lack of mutual respect, and their children had always been friends. Cassandra and Richard had been grateful for the Tates' support in their campaign to establish the hospital at Matlock and their support for a number of community causes.
The Tates were a good deal closer to Fitzwilliam and Caroline, whose political activities had brought them together, and Becky was Emily Courtney's trusted friend. Since they would in time be relations as well as friends, it was quite natural that Darcy and Elizabeth sought to establish a closer association between them.
Josie, who had by now heard from Julian that he had written to his mother explaining everything, accompanied them, but was singularly quiet, while her parents, having got the formalities out of the way, seemed quite at ease.
After tea, Elizabeth, concerned at Josie's reticence, offered to show her the new suite of rooms that had been recently redecorated for Julian.
"The rooms used to be Georgiana's. As you can see, they are in a quiet part of the house with a pretty view of the park and the woods beyond," she explained, adding that she had had them refurbished for Julian for his twenty-first birthday.
Josie was impressed, admiring the tasteful colours and elegant furniture, as well as the charming prospect across the park.
"It means he will have a new suite of rooms when he returns from Cambridge," said Elizabeth.
Josie, while admiring everything about the rooms, still seemed nervous. Elizabeth wondered what she could do or say to put her at ease. Suddenly, without any prompting or provocation, Josie spoke.
"Mrs Darcy," she said, still somewhat hesitant, "there is something I wish to say ... something I want you to know before I go to London ... please let me say how truly sorry I am that you were embarrassed by the delay in our telling you of our engagement ... Julian is not to blame; it was my fault. I wanted to keep it secret for a while only because I just was not certain it was really going to happen."
Elizabeth seemed perplexed. "Why, Josie? Were you unsure of your feelings? I cannot believe that you doubted Julian's intentions," she said.
"Oh, no, but I could not quite believe it was really happening. You see, I think I have been in love with Julian for a very long time, but I never dreamed that he would return my affection--not to the extent of marrying me, anyway. You see, Mrs Darcy, there was always Pemberley in the way, I certainly never presumed to be the Mistress of Pemberley. I always assumed that Julian would marry either his cousin Louisa or Amy Fitzwilliam, who were the two most beautiful and eligible girls in the district," she said, and Elizabeth smiled, amused at her words.
"Julian has always been a good friend; when he visited me while I was recovering from my illness, I assumed he was being kind, as usual. I was completely astonished when he proposed, and indeed, I told him that I did not think I could ever be Mistress of Pemberley."
"Why ever not?" asked Elizabeth, who understood Josie's qualms but was anxious to reassure her.
"Because I am not accustomed to great houses like Chatsworth and Pemberley and all the finery that goes with them," she replied. "Growing up in Matlock, between these two great estates, I always regarded them as beautiful, historic places I loved visiting; but I never contemplated living in one."
"Neither had I, Josie," said Elizabeth, gently interrupting her. "Longbourn, where I grew up, was every bit as modest as your family's property in Matlock, with even less to recommend it in terms of scenic beauty. We were an unpretentious family, as Mrs Collins, your grandmother, will tell you, with far less fortune than you could expect to inherit, and believe me, Josie, I was just as surprised when Mr Darcy proposed to me," she explained.
Josie, astonished, could hardly believe that the elegant and handsome Mrs Darcy, who always looked every inch the Mistress of Pemberley, could ever have had similar reservations.
Elizabeth continued, "In any event, Josie, you shall, God willing, have many, many years to prepare for it. Mr Darcy is very fit and well, and likely to remain so. Meanwhile, as you can see, we do not stand on ceremony at Pemberley."
Josie, who had started to smile and relax, said quickly, "That was exactly what Julian said," and they laughed together as they went downstairs to join the others, stopping only to let Josie admire the new portraits of Cassandra's children, which adorned the wall opposite.
"Perhaps the most wonderful part of all this is that Cassy will be my sister. I shall love that. I have never known the joy of having a sister," Josie said wistfully, causing Elizabeth to recall another time, when a young woman had said something similar.
The memory of her first meeting with Georgiana Darcy brought an indulgent smile to her lips; they had become good friends and remained as close as two sisters could be. "A sister's love is very special," she said as they descended the stairs.
Looking up, Darcy saw them laughing together; Josie's parents, following his gaze, saw the change in the nervous young woman who had reluctantly accompanied them to Pemberley. Quite clearly, Elizabeth had put her at ease.
A week later, Josie came to Pemberley, alone, to say farewell before leaving for London. This time, she was far more composed than before and spent a very pleasant afternoon with Elizabeth. Discreetly, Elizabeth avoided pressing her young guest regarding their plans and instead allowed Josie to see as much of the house and its environs as she wished to, without in any way wanting to overawe her.
Josie, who had not been through the private areas of the house before, could not help but admire the light, spacious rooms, elegant furniture, and the splendid works of art. Later, as they took afternoon tea together, she made it clear that she thought Pemberley was quite the most handsome house she had ever seen and she would be very honoured to be part of its great family.
As she rose to take her leave, Elizabeth placed in her hands a little velvet box.
"Give it to Julian; he is expecting it. It used to belong to his grandmother, Lady Anne Darcy. I have written to him and suggested that he place it on your finger at the earliest opportunity," she said.
Josie begged to be allowed to open the box, and when she did so, there lay within it a fine gold ring set with a perfect diamond. Exclaiming at its beauty, she impulsively embraced and kissed Elizabeth, thanking her for her kindness and promising to write as soon as she reached London.