Bennet,
Finally, it is done! The canal is joined to the harbour at Mullingar, and the water supply is dug from Lough Owel. The official opening of the canal was a grand affair. I accompanied the Duke of Leinster and other dignitaries on a new packet boat, theCountess of Granard, leaving the Royal Canal Hotel at Broadstone in Dublin at two o’clock of the afternoon and arriving at the Moyvalley Hotel at nine o’clock that evening. After a fine repast and comfortable beds, we departed at five o’clock the next morning, intending to arrive at Mullingar at twelve noon. As we passed all the major harbours—Clonsilla, Maynooth, Kilcock, Moyvalley, Thomastown—we were greeted by the townsfolk waving flags and bands playing.
The entry into the harbour at Mullingar was particularly memorable. Almost all the town had turned out, with the fifes and drums of the Sligo Militia playing as we docked. Viscount Forbes, the eldest son of the Earl of Granard, represented his father who holds the Manor of Mullingar. I must admit, the pomp and circumstance passed me by. I have long desired to return to Pemberley, for I have been far too long away—these ceremonies, important as they are, delay my return.
I left Mullingar for the last time the next day, eschewing the town’s hospitality. There was a lone piper on the boreenby the harbour piping me home; it will be my last memory of the town, for I have little intention of returning. I go down to Dublin, needing to visit the Bank of Ireland and establish enough credit to pay out the Pemberley Pennies when they are redeemed. I suspect there will be very few exchanged, for in County Westmeath they have become the preferred coin among the innkeepers, merchants, and farmers. Is it, I wonder, because they do not bear the image of an English king? It would be disloyal of me to suppose so, but the discontent behind the ‘98 rebellion has not gone away, and the Act of Union may have united the Kingdom, but not the people.
Bennet, you must remain at Pemberley until we meet. For without your good counsel, it would have been impossible to endure the lonely eight months I have sojourned in Ireland. I shall bring with me a bottle of good peated whiskey—perhaps we can sit on the terrace and take a dram together. I confess I am weary. The strain of negotiation and the burden of responsibility weigh upon me more than I care to admit. Thus, with great impatience, I look forward to returning to the peaks of Derbyshire, and enjoy your wise company.
Is mise, le meas,
Darcy
* * *
“Elizabeth! William is returning… in a sennight!” Georgiana looked up from her letter, which had arrived with the morning post, her countenance brightening with the widest smile. “Oh, I am so excited—what a wonderful morning!”
Her good humour was infectious, and Elizabeth could scarcely contain her own feelings while sharing in Georgiana’s happiness. Yet, in her heart, she could not join the happy anticipation of Darcy’s return. For once he came home, she mustleave for London; leave Georgiana, who had become more than a sister to her—a friend, a confidante, and, more importantly, the sister of Fitzwilliam Darcy. She had been corresponding with Darcy for seven months, since she had come to Pemberley. Their letters, with the business of Child’s and the Royal Canal uppermost, had also shared thoughts and understandings not usually exchanged between men and women who shared no family ties. She treasured those confidences; some, she realised, were so private that she scarcely believed he had spoken of them to her.
Her melancholy was interrupted when Lady Catherine joined them. “I have received a very brief note from Darcy,” she said. “He tells me he is to return to Pemberley next week.”
“Oh, it is so wonderful,” cried Georgiana. “I can barely wait! Elizabeth, can you help me with the menu for a family dinner in celebration? I am certain he will be weary, for it is four days from Dublin to Pemberley. I suspect he will wish only his close family present—and, indeed, I am selfish… I want him to myself.”
Elizabeth smiled, grateful for the opportunity to occupy her mind with practical matters. “Of course, Georgiana. We shall make it a feast to remember, but restful, as you say. I think a simple roast and the syllabub you both favour? Has Mr. Darcy spoken of his meals in Ireland to you?”
She reached for her notebook, ready to jot down ideas as Georgiana’s enthusiasm tumbled forth.
“Only that boiled potatoes, even if prepared to an exemplary standard, will never grace his table,” Georgiana replied, laughing. “And mutton, stewed overlong, is not a favourite. You have the right of it, Elizabeth—he would certainly enjoy a good English roast. We must ask Cook if she has beef hung for at least twenty days—it is so tender, and the flavour exquisite.”
“I spoke to Cook several weeks ago,” said Elizabeth, “when Mr. Darcy wrote of the canal nearing Mullingar. She has hadseveral beeves slaughtered to hang in the cellar—we are well prepared. Now, we must choose a soup… perhaps a fish course also?”
Georgiana, her cheeks flushed with excitement, suddenly turned to Elizabeth. “Will you stay with me, after William’s return?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Elizabeth’s heart twisted. She wished she might never leave Pemberley, that these perfect days could stretch on indefinitely.
“I am not certain,” she said softly, “but I shall not leave you quickly, I promise.”
Lady Catherine, who had caught the exchange, arched an eyebrow. “Let us enjoy Mrs. Elizabeth’s company, Georgiana, while we may. We forget that she has other responsibilities than merely to keep you and me company. But I daresay she will be sorely missed.”
At that moment, Winthrop entered the room. “Excuse me, Miss Darcy, but a carriage has turned onto the drive. Are we expecting visitors?”
“Perhaps it is one of the neighbours, for they are always welcome. Could you ask Cook to prepare some refreshment and send a message to Miss Anne about the visitors?”
* * *
The ladies rose when Winthrop introduced Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Mr. Bingley to the drawing room. They were received with all civility by Georgiana, which was returned with equal politeness when introduced to Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh, but Elizabeth was noticed only by a curtsey. On being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments.
It was first broken by Elizabeth, who had quickly taken the measure of the ladies. Their dresses were quite over-decoratedfor travelling, and she wondered whether they had stopped at a nearby inn to change from more sensible day wear in order to impress upon arrival at Pemberley. “Miss Bingley, how was your journey? For even good roads are rather fatiguing—do you have much further to travel today?”
“All such journeys, Mrs. E—Elizabeth, are tolerable, I suppose.” She immediately turned her attention to Georgiana. “Miss Darcy, we have missed you and Mr. Darcy’s company in Town.”
Georgiana glanced nervously at Elizabeth. “My brother has been away on business, and we have been very much occupied with the harvest.”
The lady smirked. “Well, it is as well we have come, for you must be starved of company. Why, it was only last week that my friend, Miss Grantley, said that country life can be so—what did she say?—tedious, without the variety of amusements offered in Town.”
“Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, deliberately interrupting Miss Bingley’s discourse, “you have an estate in Hertfordshire, do you not? Georgiana mentioned that Mr. Darcy had also visited, though that was some time ago. Did you find the entertainments in the neighbourhood tedious, as Miss Bingley says?”
“No, indeed not. I met some of the pleasantest people of my acquaintance.” Bingley pulled at his collar. “We have not been there for some months, but I am loath to give up the lease.”
