Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure Read online

  Jane watched her sister anxiously. “Not bad news, I do trust?”

  “No, oh, no. It is from Mr Darcy, it must have been delayed, for it was sent quite two days ago.” Elizabeth rang the bell for the housekeeper, told her about the extra guest and asked her to make a room ready.

  “It is to tell me that Mr Darcy’s friend, a Colonel Hawkins, is to join us for Christmas. He does not mention when he will arrive. I dare say that he will himself be here shortly and then he can tell us more.”

  “Is Colonel Hawkins a married man, or does he come alone?” Jane asked.

  Elizabeth knew what was behind this question. It was her sister’s ambition to get Caroline married, and so she was always interested in eligible single men. Although Caroline had a more than respectable fortune and her connection with Pemberley helped her to give her a background that her own family's fortune from trade might not, she did not have the knack of attracting the kind of man who would be a suitable husband. Privately, Elizabeth felt that a kind nature and less shrewish tongue and giving herself fewer airs and graces would help her to get a husband more than fine clothes and twenty-thousand pounds.

  “I never heard that he was married, and Mr Darcy doesn't mention a Mrs Hawkins, so I assume he is coming on his own. Unless of course he has a wife that he has left in India, perhaps even a harem.”

  Jane exclaimed at this outrageous suggestion, but Elizabeth laughed at her, “You are too easily shocked, it is only a joke.”

  Jane wasn’t satisfied. “He is an officer, is he a man of fortune?”

  “I believe not, I believe he has to earn his living.” Which was as well, it would save him from the wiles of Caroline Bingley.

  “Tell me more of this Francis Moresby,” Jane said. “He is certainly a man of fortune. I heard much about him from Caroline, although she hasn’t mentioned him recently. She seems to have taken him in dislike for some reason. I have never met him. Is he good enough for Georgiana, do you believe they will be happy together?”

  “He is a good sort of man, and everyone speaks well of him. He is somewhat reserved, one could not accuse him of having a lively wit, but he has a well-informed mind and good manners. I suspect him of being something of an Evangelical, but if Georgiana does not mind that, so be it.”

  “You do not like him.”

  “I do not dislike him, but I wonder if he is perhaps not a little staid for Georgiana.”

  “Why so? She is a quiet, reserved young woman herself.”

  “Yes, indeed, although perhaps too quiet. I’m not sure it is her true nature; she is a wary creature, however, and so a man like Mr Moresby may after all be right for her.”

  “Mr Darcy must think so, for has he not given his consent to the match?”

  “Yes, and I hope it will be a happy one. But you may judge for yourself what kind of a man he is, for he will be with us shortly.” A sideways look, a quick smile. “I am sure you will approve of him, he would have to be a monster for you to dislike him.”

  Chapter Four

  Georgiana was heartily glad to reach Pemberley, pleased to be home and weary from the journey.

  “You have been yawning this last hour,” her brother teased her once they reached Lambton, the nearest town to Pemberley. Now, as the carriage passed through the familiar surroundings of the village and began the last part of the journey alongside the boundary walls of Pemberley, she was fully awake and alert, eager to catch the first glimpse of the house.

  The carriage rattled up the long drive, through the gateway and drew up in front of the house. The steps were let down, and Georgiana leapt from the carriage to be greeted with a warm embrace by Elizabeth and then by Jane, while Elizabeth clasped her husband's hands in hers and smiled up at him, the affection they had for one another showing in their faces. “Although now we are such an old married couple, perhaps we should strive for an appearance of indifference to show how fashionable we are,” Elizabeth said as they went into the house.

  Georgiana, following her brother and sister into the house, passed the line of the servants waiting to greet their master. How would she feel when, in years to come, she would be reunited with her husband in just such a way, and they would walk indoors together, talking about the children, the journey and the news from town?

  Mr Moresby had not yet arrived, Elizabeth told her, but Georgiana had barely had time to go up to her room to remove her hat and pelisse and allow her maid to attend to her hair when the maid exclaimed that she could hear carriage wheels. She darted to the window.

  “I think this is your gentleman now, Miss Darcy, yes, indeed it is Mr Moresby, I can see him there just getting down from a curricle. You will want to be downstairs as quickly as possible.”

  Georgiana ran down the stairs. There he was, just coming through the front door. He saw her and came forward to greet her with a smile and a kiss of her hand.

  Introductions, bows, how do you dos? Caroline, her countenance composed, gave a slight curtsey, touched his outstretched hand with her finger tips, then turned away to say something to her brother and moved to the other side of the room as though she had no interest, past or present, in Mr Moresby.

  Thank goodness, Georgiana said to herself. Knowing how unpleasant Caroline could be, she had been concerned to learn that Caroline was going to be at Pemberley for Christmas, but she need not have worried. It seemed that Caroline had forgotten that she had ever had a tendre for Mr Moresby.

  Elizabeth took family and guests into the Red Salon, a large and cheerful room, where candles and oil lamps and a crackling log fire chased away the shadows of a winter evening. The children were brought down by their nurses, spick and span and rather shy as they came through the door and found so much company present. Then the two Darcy girls caught sight of their tall father and flung themselves at him with cries of joy.

  Georgiana loved seeing her brother with his children, when his usually austere countenance softened into smiles and laughter. He was holding Camilla around the ankles now and swinging her to and fro, pretending to sweep the floor with her hair while she emitted shrieks of joy and laughter.

  Elizabeth said, laughing, “Oh, pray take care, do not drop her.”

  “I have no intention of dropping her,” Mr Darcy said with a final swing before he righted her on her feet, leaving her flushed and full of giggles.

  Mr Moresby watched the children in silence. Letty and Charlotte Darcy and the two Bingley children were now playing bears under a table and he said to Georgiana, “They are very rowdy, noisy children, I wonder that their nurses do not keep them under better control.”

  “They are excited, it is Christmas and my nieces are so pleased their father is back from London. It is in the way of children to be noisy.”

  “Then they should be restricted to the nursery, and even then, how can they grow into sober and sensible people if they are allowed to indulge themselves and shriek and run about?”

  Georgiana eyed him with some wonder, but said nothing more and instead went across to where Jane's little girl, Louise, was attempting to tug Letty's plait. She drew them apart and led them over to the table, where ribbons and some pretty decorations had been the subject of their attention earlier in the day. “Look, I will cut out some stars and bells so that you can paint them in the morning and then you may hang them on the branches when the greenery is brought in.”

  Letty and Camilla and Louise sat down to this task, while the younger Bingley daughter was perched on a cushion on a chair from where she watched them with round-eyed attention.

  “They are going to bring in a Yule log tomorrow, because it’s Christmas Eve,” Louise confided to Georgiana. “Into the hall, where’s there’s a huge fireplace. Papa says they have to have a pony drag it in because it is so big.”

  “Yes, and then we light it, and it will burn all the days of Christmas,” Letty said.

  Mr Moresby had once again come to Georgiana's side. “You keep Christmas in the old-fashioned way, do you indeed have a Yule log?”


  “Yes, we always have a Yule log, it is an essential part of a Pemberley Christmas. It has been a tradition in the family for many generations.”

  “There is a lot of superstition surrounding Christmas, and I sometimes think perhaps too many of the old pagan customs obtain in some of our great houses. We keep Christmas at Moresby in a very simple manner. I believe the season is as much time for prayer and reflection as for making merry.”

  Georgiana was having none of this. “You cannot say so, I love Christmas. It’s a time for celebration and lights and dancing, not for sober reflection.”

  He smiled and said, “I do not wish to argue with you, and I know that in years to come, you will find our simple Christmas celebrations at Moresby to your taste.”

  Not if there is to be no music and merriment and mirth, she said inwardly, and was about to defend her position when their conversation was interrupted by another arrival as the butler announced, “Colonel Hawkins.”

  Chapter Five

  Georgiana saw a tall man in a many-caped coat standing in the doorway, surveying the room, seemingly not at all disconcerted by finding himself among so many strangers. She liked the look of him. He had a keen, intelligent face, eyes that showed he liked to laugh, the upright carriage of a military man and an air of quiet authority.

  Mr Darcy had been helping the children at the table, but he at once rose and came forward to greet the newcomer.

  “Giles, how good to see you. Elizabeth, allow me to present Colonel Hawkins.”

  Their new guest bowed, declaring himself honoured to meet her.

  Elizabeth called to a servant to relieve him of his coat and advised him to come closer to the fire, “You will be cold after your journey, and Derbyshire is, I swear, the coldest county in England in winter. And the weather-wise are predicting frost and snow.”

  “My army duties have taken me abroad, and it is a good while since I was in this part of the country. I am glad to be back in England, and I do not mind the cold. I was posted near Calcutta and I assure you, one becomes very weary of the excessive heat there.”

  Georgiana, who had made her curtsey to him, was looking at him intently, and then she exclaimed, ‘Why, I remember you, from when I was a girl. You used to tease me and once you heaved me bareback on to my pony, so I could ride astride.”

  His eyes were full of amusement. “Did I do that? How shocking. Yes, I remember you well, Miss Darcy, as a little girl, all tangled hair and torn clothes, a constant reproach to your nurse.”

  Conversation became general again, family and guests were relaxed and warm, and there was an air of expectation and happiness in the room. Even Caroline seemed more good-humoured than usual, as she talked to her brother. Georgiana noticed her eyes appraising Colonel Hawkins; she whispered a question into Mr Bingley’s ear, received a low-voiced reply that seemed to displease her, and shrugged, a look of disdain on her face.

  She has learned that Colonel Hawkins is not a man of fortune or rank, Georgiana guessed. For her part, she didn’t give a button about that. Glad to see her childhood friend back at Pemberley, she had only happy memories of him, approved of the way he fitted easily into his company and was pleased that he was taking the trouble to be with the children. He had joined the nursery party at the table, and was soon helping Louise to cut out a more complicated shape, while Letty watched with critical eyes.

  Mr Moresby saw her looking at Colonel Hawkins, and said, archly, “Ah, these military men take the shine out of us ordinary mortals, even when they are out of regimentals.”

  She responded with a smile, and he went on, “It is too late in the day to ask for a tour of the house, but I hope you will do the me the honour of showing me the beauties of Pemberley. It is a famous house, I'm afraid you will find Moresby a very modest establishment in comparison. As you know, we only have some twenty or so bedrooms, and I believe you have double that number here.”

  “Oh, Moresby is beautiful in its own way, it is just in a different style from Pemberley. Pemberley is quite modern, whereas Moresby dates back to the Middle Ages. Here we can boast no baronial hall, no ancient stone-flagged passageways, no chapel where once the monks chanted the hours.”

  Mr Moresby seemed gratified by her praise of his house, and she was searching for something else to say to please him when the ormolu clock on a side table chimed the hour. Elizabeth rose from where she had been chatting with her sister and directed the nurses to take their charges upstairs.

  It was time to go upstairs to change for dinner and the company drifted out of the salon. Georgiana was last out of the room, and as the doors closed behind her, she felt that she had left a bubble of Christmas delight. Let it continue, she thought. Let there be hours of such happiness and ease and good companionship and merriness. That was exactly what Christmas should bring to Pemberley.

  Chapter Six

  Caroline Bingley was in a sour mood as she went upstairs to dress for dinner. She was usually pleased to visit Pemberley, although, once there, she always had a pang of regret that it was the disagreeable Elizabeth who was installed as mistress of Pemberley, a position that she herself had longed to hold. But she had learned to hold her tongue and smile, so as not to jeopardise the possibility of further invitations to Pemberley.

  Apart from the fact that it was a beautiful and comfortable house, you never knew whom you might meet there. It was a source of constant self-reproach that she was still single, five years after she had had to admit defeat in her pursuit of Mr Darcy and likewise five years since her brother had married. She had been contemptuous of her sister’s marriage to the uninspiring Mr Hurst, saying at the time that to be married to Mr Hurst might be a worse fate than not to be married at all. She no longer felt that. Twenty-seven, without a proposal to her name, she envied the women of her acquaintance who had found husbands, however boring, and were settled with their own establishments and families.

  And now, she had learned upon her arrival at Pemberley that not only Georgiana Darcy, but that odious Francis Moresby were both to be present. It had been bitter indeed for her to hear from Jane the news of their betrothal, even though it had come as no surprise. Half of London had been expecting an announcement. Georgiana, so quiet, so shy, so modest, had been openly flaunting her feelings for Mr Moresby, dancing with him, flirting, riding in the park with him and in every way making clear to an interested world her preference for him.

  Caroline had had real hopes of Mr Moresby. She felt they had a special rapport, she knew he admired her and, until that dreadful ball at Rosings, she had felt more and more confident of attaching him. But the moment he set eyes on Georgiana, he had no time for her. He had obliged her to introduce Georgiana to him, and that then that was the end of any hope of courtship between her and Moresby.

  She was piqued not only in her pride, but also because, unusually for her, she had truly formed a strong attachment to Mr Moresby. It had not just been a matter of reason and sense because he was so very eligible.

  So now she would have to sit through an interminable dinner, watching him devoting his attention to Georgiana. She would have to smile and look pleased, say all the right things; how tiresome it was to have to be hypocritical. There were all the festivities of Christmas to be endured in company she did not much care for, she almost wished she had stayed in Town.

  On the other hand, there was to be a ball tomorrow, a Christmas Eve ball. At a ball, there would be many more guests than the immediate household, you could not hold a ball with some ten persons. No, the great and the good from all round would be summoned to the dance at Pemberley and it might be that among the guests there would be some man who would be worth talking to. Colonel Hawkins had seemed promising at first, but a man who had to live upon his army pay was not such a catch as Mr Moresby. Drat Georgiana for capturing his affections.

  She tsked with irritation as the maid pulled at a tangle in her hair. “Be careful, do not tug at it like that.”

  The maid was new in her service. Caro
line had recently turned off her previous maid, finding that she was too inclined to flirt with the groom from a neighbouring house. However much Caroline wanted to find her own happiness with a member of the opposite sex, she made it a rule in her household that no such inclinations were to be indulged by any people in her service.

  This maid had come recommended from a friend, and she seemed to know her work. She was a plump young woman, with bold eyes; quite ready to be talkative if her mistress wished it. Caroline liked to hear the gossip of the servants’ hall and it was astonishing how much news a good maid would pick up from all the household, mingling as they did with other servants who knew all the tos and fros and ups and downs and mischief of their various masters and mistresses.

  “How do you like Pemberley, Sanders? Are the other servants making you welcome? The servants’ quarters are cold and inconvenient, I dare say, it is always the way in these great places, but I hope you are not too uncomfortable.”

  “Oh no, miss. I like it very well. It is a great place as you say, but it is interesting for me to come to the house of the family of whom I have heard so much.”

  “Heard so much? From whom? Not from me.”

  “Oh, no, I formerly worked for Mrs Grimshaw of Ramsgate. It is not a very genteel town, Ramsgate, but Mrs Grimshaw lived in a big house outside the town. I was there with her the year that Miss Darcy came to Ramsgate to take the sea air. I believe she had been ill, she must have been about fifteen then. She was accompanied by a gentlewoman, a Mrs Younge, who had been appointed as her companion,. The young lady was too old for a governess by then, of course.”

  “I remember her spending the summer at Ramsgate, did she not leave it very abruptly? Mr Darcy said the sea air had not been of as much benefit to her health as they had hoped.”