Chapter 15 #2
But he couldn’t watch her disappear before his eyes. He would never turn his back to her, but he lowered his gaze to the grass at the last and waited for a few seconds.
Elizabeth gripped his hand tighter, and he knew in an instant his sister would be gone. What would happen to their life then?
Elizabeth watched Darcy as he drove them back to Pemberley.
They could have driven out to Stanton Moor with Tom Roland, but Darcy hated being the passenger.
While carsickness didn’t cripple him like it used to, the only way he wasn’t ill was if he was the driver.
Thirteen years with motorways and cars, and he still broke out in a cold sweat and nausea once the speed got past thirty miles per hour.
But he wasn’t ill now. The set of his shoulders and his tight grip on the steering wheel must hold the weight of his grief.
He was driving fast for him. When the sun set and Georgiana was gone, Darcy had clutched her hand so hard it hurt, like he was afraid she would disappear too.
Some of the strain eased when he impulsively hugged her, even though Roland was with them, but it was odd that he was still nearly shaking with tension as he sped back to Pemberley.
She let him sit in his thoughts and feelings until they were nearly home. As gently as she could, she said, “Your approval, your blessing, is going to carry Georgiana forward for the rest of her life.”
He was quiet for so long she thought he would ignore her. “I never wanted that influence over her, at least not after I left.”
“You never lost it because you left.”
Darcy lapsed into silence, and she asked, “Why did Mr Willers say nothing, after all of those years together? Why not her? I get that it’s considered inappropriate, that if a woman speaks first, you’re therefore too brazen to be a decent wife, but come on.”
“Each might have been too blind, or too proud?” he guessed. “But I suspect the greater fault is that both were too afraid to have mistaken the other’s regard.”
“You’re not like that, though.” They had never said the words before he returned, but he had known she loved him enough to risk everything. “You decide and then make it happen. Does that sort of action fit in better with modern life than your old one?”
Darcy parked the car, shaking his head. “People don’t always do that here.
” He picked up his phone from the console.
“I have more information in my hand than anyone in human history had access to, yet people now still struggle to make decisions. Decisions I would say are simple ones. As much as I love being here, this place isn’t perfect. ”
“But people are essentially the same, aren’t they?”
“Oh yes,” he said, but his gaze drifted to the house as they got out of the car. “Elizabeth? Do you think anything changed? Will anything be different once we go inside?” To her surprise, his voice shook. “You and I feel the same, but…”
“Everything will be the same. She marries her devoted steward, the one who knows the truth about all of this.” She was still convinced they were always supposed to help Georgiana marry Mr Willers, but Darcy seemed riddled with tension.
She wasn’t sure why since Tom Roland had still been at the circle with them, the house was still here, and nothing between her and Darcy had changed.
“Should we check the portrait? Walk around? Or reread her letters to you to make sure she—”
“No. Only one thing matters.” He gripped her hand and stalked toward their private door, ran up the stairs, ignored Sheryl on the sofa, and then he saw Sandra, sitting in her pyjamas next to her.
Elizabeth felt all the strain leave him.
He seemed to sag in relief and then strode into the room to scoop her up and hug her tightly.
He never cared about Pemberley’s fate. All Darcy had wanted was her and Sandra, and Elizabeth fell a little more in love with him. How fearful had he been of losing them after Georgiana left? Had he been terrified of it these past three months?
“What are you still doing awake?” he asked when he loosened his grip on Sandra. “You have school tomorrow.”
“I wanted to make sure Aunt Georgiana got to the train station.”
Darcy still held on to her, and carried her to her room, even though she was far too big for such a thing.
Elizabeth subtly told Sheryl that everything had gone well and thanked her for staying with Sandra. As she closed the door behind her, she heard Sandra chattering away to Darcy about what she and Sheryl had done.
“And she said I can be a flower girl!” There was a pause, and from the corridor outside Sandra’s room, Elizabeth heard her say, “If Mr Roland and Miss Sheryl have a kid, maybe they could work for me like Mr Roland works for you when I’m in charge of Pemberley.”
“‘In charge’? And what does that mean?”
Elizabeth knew that tone, but Sandra was too overexcited. “I get to make all the decisions!” It sounded like she was jumping on the bed. “All the dresses are mine, and the sheep are mine, and the—”
“Everything is not yours,” Darcy said sternly, “and certainly not with an attitude like that.” The sound of jumping abruptly stopped. “You will be the steward of vast resources, and that does not—”
“What’s a steward?” she interrupted.
“The careful and responsible manager of something entrusted to your care. Pemberley is not yours to control and enjoy for your own sake. It is yours to take care of. And what about your employees and tenants?”
“They’ll work for me too.” This was said with less confidence.
“The house and the land would be nothing without them.” It sounded like Darcy was now tucking her under the sheets. “You have a heavy charge on your conscience when you employ someone and are responsible for their livelihood. If they have a hardship, it is up to you to relieve it.”
“You mean you gotta take care of them. But don’t you just have to tell employees what to do?”
“No, you have to balance authority with kindness, and you impose no commands that are not appropriate and necessary. And if a servant—if an employee,” he corrected, “has behaved commendably, you ought to prefer them if it is in your power or recommend them to a better provision.”
“You mean help them get promoted or leave to find a better job?” Sometimes, it was like Sandra spoke two languages, Regency English and modern English, and translated one into the other. Had she watched her mother do that, or had she naturally learnt to do it on her own?
“If that is in their best interest, and there is nothing here at Pemberley that would match their talents and ambition.”
Elizabeth heard Sandra gasp. “What if Mr Roland and Miss Sheryl leave?”
“We would be sad, but we always want them to do well, and what is best for them might not be staying here.”
“So I need to say thank you, but still tell them what to do?”
She heard Darcy exhale a soft laugh. “People who think they are in charge think highly of what they bestow and little of the service they receive. Yes, you must be grateful, and yes, you must make decisions. But if you only think of your own convenience, your own power, your employees will not stay—and you cannot keep the dresses and the sheep and all the rest. You will have nothing to be the good steward of and leave nothing for your own children.”
“You’re nice to everyone, but you and Mummy still make all the decisions.” Sandra now sounded drowsy.
“Being in charge doesn’t mean telling everyone what to do. It means you’re answerable for every decision. Every success and every failure.”
“Is that hard, Daddy?”
“Yes, it is. I am taking care of Pemberley not just for me, but for you and your children and for every person in this community who depends on us. It is not a responsibility I take lightly.” His voice softened.
“And it is not anything you have to worry about for a long time. But if you want to be a steward of Pemberley when you are grown, I know you will be excellent.”
“Will we see Aunt Georgiana again?” Elizabeth held back a laugh. That was just like her mind to jump from one thing to another.
“No, dear, she has gone back to her life.” Darcy was always honest with her, or as honest as they could be without burdening a child with something she couldn’t handle yet. “She will always love you, and we can remember her, but she is too far away and too busy, so we won’t see her again.”
“Not even FaceTime?”
“Not even FaceTime.”
“Why don’t I have grandparents or aunts and cousins like my friends do?”
A pang of sadness hit Elizabeth as she listened. While she was grateful for their found family, her mother and sister should have wanted to be a part of her life and know how wonderful her little girl and her husband were.
“I don’t have those people either,” Darcy said. “You are the only person related to me in the entire world. So it is a good thing we have Frank and Gwen, and Charlotte and Mary.”
Elizabeth heard an enormous yawn and a few murmurings about it being very late and school was tomorrow.
Darcy came out of her room a moment later, exhaling heavily as he walked past her.
“You’re so good with her,” she said, following him to their main room. “You corrected her and explained everything, but in a way she can understand.”
“I had not known until I came here that childhood is such a unique time. They are not merely small adults or tabula rasas but have social and mental skills that develop in a particular way over the first twenty years of their lives.” He gave a small shake of his head as if passing over a memory.
“Some behaviours expected of me and Georgiana as children were unjust.”
“You’re a wonderful dad,” she whispered.
“Do you believe that?” He looked at her as though his entire happiness depended upon her answer.
“Of course I do. You’ve been harder on yourself than you need to be.”
“I disagree.”