Chapter 19
Elizabeth woke suddenly and looked around. What had woken her? But there was nothing amiss. The room was silent and still, but the fire was burning. Perhaps the maid had lit the fire quietly enough, but the latch of the door closing had roused her.
She rolled over and stared at the hangings around the bed. She had been at Pemberley a week. The house was still strange to her, all the staff still unfamiliar; yet it seemed a lifetime ago that she had descended the coach before a house noticeably unready to receive her.
She stretched. There was still much to be done, but to rise just yet and brave the chill of the room and her even chillier thoughts of her husband — no. She would not rise for another half-hour.
But within ten minutes she was dressing in her warmest day dress and selecting a heavy shawl, before sitting before the glass as Emily dressed her hair.
Then she crossed to the table in the window to take her breakfast tray.
She would no longer break her fast downstairs; it would be some hours before she could face her husband with any equanimity.
But she was Elizabeth Darcy, mistress of Pemberley, and there was much to do. She sat, sipping her tea, and pondering on the priorities of the day.
Mrs Kerr. She would meet with the deputy housekeeper, and review the menus, and then continue the preparation of the boxes.
Perhaps they could then review her lists of what refurbishments needed doing.
Frowning, she wondered if it was the right thing to do.
She had no conception of the finances of the house, and no pin money that was accessible to her.
She huffed a laugh mirthlessly in frustration. Papa had said that the settlement was extremely generous; but perhaps this was Mr Darcy’s way of ensuring she did not benefit from it. She was his wife — chattel — and had no recourse.
And he was not the sort of man who would notice if her clothes were suitable only for a winter in the gentler south. Already she was cold, the air bitterer than she had ever known. Sighing, she knew that even if he was the sort of man to notice, he could not if he continued to avoid her company.
Finishing her meal, Elizabeth rose to her feet. Regardless of what her husband did, or did not do, she was mistress of Pemberley. And she would do her utmost to be the best that she could be.
Elizabeth was conferring with Mrs Kerr in the store room where the Christmas boxes were stacked. Each box had a tag tied to it with the name of the tenant identifying it.
She was pleased to discover that the boxes for families held flannel garments of appropriate sizes for the children in that family, as well as the traditional jars of preserves, cheeses, a few tallow candles, and a paper-wrapped bar of soap.
Mrs Kerr consulted the list. “We have added a shawl for the widow Robinson,” she pointed to a smaller box in the corner. “Her age means she is feeling the cold more.”
“Oh, I am pleased there are boxes for the charitable cases in the area.” Elizabeth smiled. “I do feel for those who have fallen on hard times.” She gazed at the boxes. “What are the last-minute items still to go in?”
The older woman returned her smile. “The footmen will bring the venison from the game larder this afternoon, Mrs Darcy.” She held out the list. “I am allocating the largest haunches to the four under-stewards, in recognition of their extra duties, then the next largest to the biggest families, and so on.”
“Venison!” Elizabeth felt faint. “I do not know that I have ever tasted such a thing. At … at Longbourn, we gave a ham and a chicken to the families.”
“Most estates do, I believe.” Mrs Kerr nodded. “But we have a large herd here, and the cull must take place. There is far more than the household can eat before the meat goes off, and, of course, venison is not welcome at every meal here after the cull.”
Elizabeth gathered herself together. It was wrong to seem too provincial to the staff in these early days, even though she wished to have the house be less formal.
Her heart twisted as she thought of writing the story to her father, remembering too late to avoid the pang that this would no longer be possible.
What would Mr Darcy think if she wrote amusingly to Papa of her experiences?
No, she would never permit him to read another letter of hers; the one to her aunt that he had taken was humiliation enough.
She bit her lip and turned her mind back to the task.
“Good morning, Mrs Darcy.” The steward’s voice assisted her to bring herself back to her duties, and he bowed. “I have brought a stout bolt for the door as requested.” He nodded at the other woman.
“Mrs Kerr, good morning to you.”
The deputy housekeeper smiled in relief. “I am glad, Mr Reed. I wanted it done before the venison and apples are placed.”
“Apples?” Elizabeth turned to the housekeeper. “Is the fruit for the children?”
Mrs Kerr was evidently pleased to demonstrate the estate’s consideration. “Yes, madam. There is an apple for every tenant child and orphan at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth turned to the steward. “You and your under-stewards will be the recipients of much joy when you distribute the boxes, Mr Reed.”
“It is a pleasure, certainly.” The man nodded at her. “How high would you like the bolt placed, Mrs Darcy?”
Elizabeth turned to the other woman. “You will know how high Mrs Reynolds can reach, I expect. Although I would like it no higher than necessary. It would be better if you and I can reach it without having to seek the aid of a footman. And the door will also be locked as well, of course.”
She was glad that conversation was over when, not five minutes later, they heard the shuffling steps of the confused housekeeper, who seemed surprised to see her there, and frowned.
“Is Miss Darcy not yet here this morning?” Her mumble died out and she looked at the walls as if to check for a clock.
Mrs Kerr cast an anxious look at her employer. “Mrs Reynolds, do you remember the master told us that he had decided it was best if Miss Darcy stayed in town this winter with their aunt and uncle? Soon it will be her time to come out, and she needs this preparation.”
“Oh, dear.” The older woman pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. “Miss Darcy always so enjoyed helping me with the boxes. She often made little rag dolls and soldiers for the tenant children. Perhaps we ought to wait until she can be here?”
She turned to Elizabeth, looking a little lost. “Have we been introduced?”
Elizabeth bit her lip; the housekeeper was obviously much worse than she had considered.
“It was a confusing arrival, Mrs Reynolds. I am unsurprised we have not had time for a good conversation yet. I am Mrs Darcy, and I have been assisting your estimable staff with the boxes while Miss Darcy is unavoidably absent.” She took the older woman’s hands.
“I would love to hear about the way Miss Darcy enjoyed Christmas as a child, but of course, she is nearly grown now. Perhaps we can meet later this morning over a cup of tea. I understand you have been here many years and I would enjoy hearing tales of the estate to help me learn to be a good mistress here.”
The old woman’s brow cleared. “I would be happy to help you, Mrs Darcy. Perhaps I should take maids to the gallery and ensure the paintings are dusted. I am sure you wish to see the portraits of the family. Such a fine boy.”
“I think that would be a wonderful idea.” Mrs Kerr moved towards her superior. “Perhaps Betty and Sarah, and I think even young Peggy could be taught high dusting.”
Mrs Reynolds nodded. “I shall do that, but first I should change the apples. There were some in the Taylor’s box yesterday and there are no children there.”
“It will be a good idea tomorrow, Mrs Reynolds.” Elizabeth slipped a hand under the woman’s elbow and turned her towards the door.
“The apples will not be here until then. Perhaps you can see the gallery is made ready today, then I look forward to you telling me the history of Mr Darcy’s ancestors.
I am sure you remember enough to make them into real characters for me. ”
She watched the older woman make her way towards the main house, and looked back at Mrs Kerr and Mr Reed. Both looked rather anxious. They would wait for her to speak.
“Have things suddenly become worse, or have you had to cover for her a great deal more than you have admitted so far?”
The two exchanged a glance, before Mrs Kerr curtsied slightly. “We have never seen her this bad before, Mrs Darcy. I am sorry that it has come to this.”
Mr Reed’s voice was quieter than usual. “You were very good with her. She responded well to your suggestions.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. “As I have told Mrs Kerr, my own grandmother was similarly afflicted. And I am not surprised that our sudden, unexpected arrival has worsened her confusion. It may be that she improves once Christmas is over.”
They looked relieved. “Will you tell Mr Darcy?” The steward was more direct than Mrs Kerr.
“I see no need to trouble him with the news as yet.” Not that I have even seen him to speak to!
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “He has enough to contend with, and it is one of my duties to oversee the house.” She wondered if she should continue, but decided it would help the senior staff to understand her better.
“Mrs Reynolds is, I understand, a loyal and devoted servant. I will protect her to the very best of my ability, even if she now cannot fulfil her duties as she did before.”
The relief in their expressions was identical — almost amusing. But Elizabeth was more pleased to see the respect they also showed. She nodded. It was time to move on with her day.
“We will leave you to finish the bolt, Mr Reed, and Mrs Kerr will slip back down to lock the door when you have finished.” Elizabeth then turned to the woman.