Chapter 1

Mary gazed anxiously out of the carriage window as the coach made its way along the lane to Pemberley, her new home. The dreary winter scene that passed before her did little to lighten her spirits. Silent trees with bare branches capped with snow filled brown meadows and dotted gently slopping hills. Mary shivered noticeably at the cold, her feet no longer heated by the now chilled warming bricks placed in the coach four hours ago at the inn. Mary did not know how she would ever adapt to such cold weather; it was so different from the warm climate of New Sussex where the temperature never dipped below the point of needing a light jacket. The sight of snow had been a marvel to Mary, captivating her for many long minutes as she watched it coat the roofs and treetops of London in a thick blanket of white.But as the weeks in London drew long, the allure of snow quickly faded. Piles of brown slush, an unpleasing mixture of horse manure and street filth, soon lined every London road and the prospect of cold toes and wet and muddied petticoats soon kept her from venturing beyond the townhouse without the aid of a carriage.

Turning from the window, Mary nervously fingered a letter from Miss Georgiana Darcy, the sister of Mr. Darcy. Georgiana’s letters had been a source of comfort for Mary in her time of transition. As soon as Mr. Darcy sent word of his acceptance of the guardianship of Mary, Georgiana began to correspond with Mary. They had written each other describing their various hobbies, enjoyments and other sundry details of their personalities with Miss Darcy expressing the earnest hope that they soon become good friends. At first Mary was surprised by Georgiana’s request, but as there correspondence continued, Mary began to feel its sincerity. Georgiana’s last letter had given her helpful hints as to what to expect at Pemberley, from Mrs. Reynolds’s abhorrence of muddy footprints in the foyer after a hard rain to Mrs. Darcy’s propensity to tease her husband. Despite Georgiana’s warm letters, Mary still felt trepidation over her acceptance by the other inhabitants of Pemberley. She wondered if Mr. Darcy was a severe man or how Mrs. Darcy would receive another young woman in her home.

These anxieties succeeded in momentarily distracting Mary from her melancholy. Mary understandably still felt the keenness of the death of Lord Farthington, but to also be robbed of the only home she had ever known and to be ever separated from her friends and acquaintances further compounded her grief. Mr. Brambles, her guardian’s solicitor, remained her only tie to her old life. He accompanied her on the arduous trip across the Atlantic and was her companion during her weeks in London. Mr. Brambles was a gentle grandfatherly man of two and sixty with large bushy gray eyebrows, a slight paunch and an easy rolling laugh. Ever conscious of her melancholy, Mr. Brambles often employed himself with the task of cheering her up, whether it was with the present of a new bonnet or some other bauble or the offering of an amusing tale during long carriage rides. While Mary was deeply grateful to him for his efforts and concern, such trinkets and stories affected her mood but little. She could not be persuaded from continuing her mourning in earnest. Concerned for her first presentation to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley that morning, Mr. Brambles tried to convince her to put away her black mourning dress of crape and bombazine in favor of a more becoming green gown with a matching pelisse that he had made for her while in London. It only being six months after her guardian’s death, Mary heartily refused, but did agree to wear some ornamentation in the form of a ruby cross.

“Ahh, Pemberley. Is it not a fair sight, Miss Farthington?” Mr. Brambles ventured, breaking the silence that pervaded the carriage for the majority of the journey.

Mary returned her gaze to the carriage window to see the great house of Pemberley finally coming into view. The house was rather large with tall stately columns gracing the façade that faced a sizable lake, now frozen over and silent. The light grey stone of the building melded perfectly with the surrounding snow covered grounds, lending the house a natural quality.

“Yes,” Mary replied looking at the house in wonder, “I can’t recall ever seeing a home so happily situated. Well, in addition to Loland Manor of course.”

Mr. Brambles regarded her thoughtfully, before nodding his head in understanding. “I know Derbyshire is nothing like New Sussex, but it is my sincere hope that in time you can learn to be happy here also, Miss Farthington. It was your father’s wish as well.”

“In time I shall be happy again,” Mary sighed, favoring her companion with a weak smile. “I will try to be so for his sake.”

Soon after, their carriage stopped before the main entrance of Pemberley. Several footmen quickly descended upon their carriage, handing down the lady and elderly gentleman and seeing to their trunks and bags. Taking Mr. Brambles offered arm, Mary made her way up the steps of Pemberley following a footman. They were shown into the foyer where Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and Miss Darcy stood waiting to receive them, along with William Bennet Darcy. Mary was surprised at their warm reception, appearing in the foyer to greet them as if they were family. She had expected to be shown into a parlor where she would wait for several minutes for their arrival, not to be greeted by the warm smiles before her.

“Mr. Brambles,” Darcy stepped forward taking the man’s hand as they entered. “Welcome to Pemberley.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Your warm reception humbles us,” Mr. Brambles replied as he bowed. “Let me introduce Miss Mary Caroline Farthington.”

Mary curtsied shyly to the tall dark haired man. Although handsome, his countenance was stern and proud. “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. It is an honor to meet you, sir. Thank you for welcoming us into your home,” Mary greeted in her soft voice, then made even softer from intimidation.

“You are very welcome, Miss Farthington. In time I hope that you consider it your own,” Darcy replied as he bowed ever so slightly at the waist. “Let me introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy and to my sister Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

A woman about a head shorter than herself with curly brown hair and large sparkling brown eyes stepped forward matching Mary’s curtsey before taking both of her hands into hers.

“Let me welcome you to Pemberley, Miss Farthington. I am so sorry for your loss and it is my hope that you will find as much pleasure and peace within its walls and among the grounds as I do.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. I have never seen a house so happily situated or met people so gracious.”

“Miss Farthington,” Miss Darcy stepped forward with a curtsey. “Welcome to Pemberley. I am ever so pleased that you have finally come! It is my earnest hope that we will soon become great friends.”

“Thank you, Miss Darcy. It is a pleasure to meet you as well. I already feel as if I know so much about you from your letters. I look forward to getting to know you more.”

Miss Darcy expressed similar sentiments, excitement over Mary’s arrival written over her features. Mrs. Darcy smiled warmly at Georgiana, pleased at her attachment to Mary before introducing her son. Little William Bennet clutched shyly at his mother’s skirt and peered up at Mary with wide brown eyes and unruly dark brown curls.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, young Mr. Darcy,” Mary ventured curtseying slightly. She found herself instantly enamored with the little one, enchanted by his shyness and expressive little eyes. He was no more than four years old, at best, and still unaccustomed to meeting strangers. He stared up at her wonderingly before replying to her greeting with a muffled “good evening” and retreating behind his mother completely. Mrs. Darcy apologized for the boy’s shyness while a maid collected the young child to return him to the nursery.

Mary was relieved when Miss Darcy offered to show them to their rooms and happily followed the petite woman up the grand staircase to the second floor. Mary marveled at the décor of Pemberley as they made their way to their rooms. The furnishing and décor, although rich and ornate was also tasteful, a testimony to the elegant sensibilities of several generations of Darcys Mrs. Darcy first took them to Mary’s quarters, which were just across the hall from Georgiana’s. Miss. Darcy seemed most pleased at these arrangements and was most eager to know if Mary approved of the room. Mary conceded that she could find nothing lacking in her chambers and that she liked them exceedingly. Her quarters consisted of a large bedroom with an ample sitting area complete with a modest writing desk. The dressing room was also well laid out and all of the areas featured walls decorated amiably with lavender wall paper adorned with a vine and leaf motif. The bedroom also featured a large fireplace complete with a roaring fire. Mary thought that this was her most favorite feature of her quarters and envisioned spending many mornings and afternoons seated close to the flames in an effort to escape the chill of winter.

After giving Mrs. Darcy and Miss. Darcy her favorable opinion of the room, Mary was introduced to her lady’s maid, April. April was a pretty girl of around eighteen with sea green eyes and curly red hair that escaped from underneath her cap.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” April curtsied to Mary.

“April is one of our most trusted and loved servants. Her sister, Betsy, serves as my maid and I am sure that you will get along famously.”

“Thank you again, Mrs. Darcy,” Mary began, taking the woman’s hand in hers. “I am very grateful for your kindness in welcoming me into your home.”

“There is no need to thank me, Miss Farthington,” Mrs. Darcy began, her brown eyes sparkling warmly. “It is the least that we could do. Lord Farthington was my husband’s godfather, afterall. So, we are practically family, are we not? And family is always welcome at Pemberley. On that note, would you be so kind as to call me Elizabeth? Mrs. Darcy is so formal.”

“Yes,” interrupted Georgiana brightly. “Do call me Georgiana as well, if we can have the pleasure of calling you Mary.”

Mary smiled broadly, her first sincere smile of the evening. Tears threatened to escape her eyes as she was so overwhelmed by the welcome. The anxieties that plagued her during the carriage ride began to fade in the light of Elizabeth’s sincere welcome and Georgiana’s eagerness. Mary took a deep breath, not wanting to embarrass herself with a shower of tears in front of her new acquaintances.

“Of course, Elizabeth and Georgiana, doing so would give me great pleasure.”

“Excellent,” Elizabeth replied with a gentle smile. “Now, I am sure that you are tired and would like to rest before dinner. I will leave you in April’s capable hands.”

After Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mr. Brambles left, Mary turned to April with a shy smile.

“Well, I believe Mrs. Darcy was quite correct in her estimation. I am quite tired and long to refresh myself after such a long journey.”

“Very well, ma’am. I can ready a warm bath for you, should you desire one and the footmen will have your trunks up here in a few moments. Would you care for some tea in the meantime?”

“Yes, I’d like that very much. Thank you, April.”

After a long hot bath, April helped Mary change into her attire for dinner. Upon Mary’s insistence, April switched the cream gown she had laid out for a simple black gown with a square cut neckline and long sleeves. April was much displeased by her new mistress’s choice of black attire for dinner, yet prevailed upon her to wear some livelier ornamentation in contrast. Mary agreed to this compromise, wearing s delicate silver chain with a mother of pearl pendant that shown brightly against the chocolate colored skin of her chest.

Upon examining herself in the mirror, Mary was happy for the slight compromise, the mother of pearl pendant being a gift from her father upon her sixteenth birthday. Despite the picture of beauty before her, Mary still found defects with her gown, hair and choice of ornaments; her nervousness over the ensuing meal coloring her judgment. While she was encouraged to find the Darcy’s a kind and welcoming family, she did not look forward to the dinner hour which would allow them closer scrutiny of her character. Mary was especially concerned over Mr. Darcy’s opinion of her. He seemed like such a proud and fine gentleman and Mary felt much like a beggar maid with soiled clothes before him.

“Are you nervous, ma’am?” April ventured as Mary readjusted her gown in the mirror for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, I must admit that I am. All of this is so new, April and I am a little frightened by Mr. Darcy,” Mary replied as she exhaled deeply.

“Afraid of Mr. Darcy? There isn’t any need for that. He may appear proud or stern at first look, but he is the kindest and fairest master I have ever known. Why, I have never heard him raise his voice to anyone, and with his family he is full forever smiling.”

This revelation surprised Mary. She could not imagine the stern countenance that greeted her a few hours ago transformed by smiles and laughter. However, she supposed that her first perception could be misguided. Thanking April, she made her way down for dinner, a little comforted by her maid’s words of encouragement.

Mary found that the dinner hour was not one to be dreaded, as she had before. Rather than a time for close scrutiny, she found herself engaged in lively conversation and laughing in spite of herself at Mrs. Darcy’s gentle teasing of her husband. Mr. Darcy was indeed all smiles during dinner, his eyes sparkling with good humor at his wife’s gentle jabs. Mary was surprised by this aspect of their relationship. While Mr. Darcy seemed the picture of pride at first glance, his wife had a way of revealing his warm caring nature to all. Mary also found Mr. Darcy to be a lively conversationalist who was eager to learn more about his new charge, discussing with her a wide range of topics from literature, to music, to memories of her late father. They chatted at length about their mutual interests in literature, finding that they both had a lively appreciation for John Milton. Mary found their exchange a comforting reminder of home. Lord Farthington would often engage Mary in good natured intellectual debates, taking great pride in developing his daughter’s cognitive abilities. Mary thoroughly enjoyed those times together with her father, and missed them keenly. For his part, Mr. Darcy seemed most impressed with her voracious love of literature and knowledge and expressed an interest in further conversation. Georgiana and Elizabeth seemed less engaged in this conversation, however, being less inclined to discuss Paradise Lost as they were to learn more about their new family member. When Mr. Darcy was drawn into conversation with Mr. Brambles on the latest debates before parliament and the upcoming sessions, Georgiana saw her opportunity to draw Mary into a conversation of their own.

“You wrote in your letters that you are a lover of music, much like myself. Would you give us the honor of hearing you play?” Georgiana asked shyly, hoping sincerely that her request did not offend her new friend.

“Yes, doing so would give me much pleasure. However, I must beg that you also honor me by playing as well.” Mary replied warmly.

Georgiana’s face brightened. “Thank you, Mary. I will oblige you and play, although I fear I may not be as proficient as yourself. Now that you are come here, perhaps we could practice together and learn a duet.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Georgiana,” Elizabeth broke in smiling broadly. “Although I fear that you are being too humble. I have never heard someone play as excellently as you do, Georgiana. I suspect that you are both quite accomplished at the pianoforte and will make perfect practice partners.”

Soon after, Elizabeth rose to signal that it was time for the ladies to withdraw to the sitting room while Mr. Brambles and Mr. Darcy retired to the library for a glass of port. Georgiana and Mary followed her to the sitting room where they could engage in more casual conversation.

“So Mary, I trust your journey here was not too tiring,” Elizabeth began.

“It was quite agreeable, thank you. We traveled from London where we had resided for a month while Mr. Brambles saw to some business regarding the estate. I looked forward to the journey to Pemberley, as I found myself quite shut in at the townhouse there.”

“So you did not attend any concerts or plays, Mary?” Georgiana asked as she seated herself next to her.

“I am afraid not. Mr. Brambles was quite engaged and I spent most of my days alone in the townhouse. I have no friends or relations in town and so had no cause to leave cards with anyone. Consequently, we had not the pleasure of entertaining anyone.”

“You must have been very bored, then. I could not imagine spending so many days without a companion for pleasant conversation.” Georgiana continued, her brows wrinkled in sincere worry.

“For my part, I was not so very bored. I did find it confining in that I was not free to walk about and relish the fresh air as I am used to in New Sussex; the snow and mud covered streets and cold did little to compel me out of doors. However, I made use of my time in exploring my father’s library. I took the time to reacquaint myself with Homer and Virgil and to indulge myself in writing. I do look forward to enjoying the fresh air of Derbyshire and the freedom to wander the grounds.”

“Mary, I find we have one essential thing in common, a love of nature and long walks. Tell me, was your home in New Sussex given to fine constitutionals?” Elizabeth inquired slightly teasingly, happy to find a point of conversation on which they shared a common interest.

“New Sussex was exceedingly beautiful. I have been gone from there these six months and I must admit I do miss it greatly. Our home was not far from the beach. In fact, my rooms had a lovely porch from which I could see the Atlantic. The ocean waves would lull me to sleep and the smell of the salty water was refreshing,” Mary took on a faraway look, her mouth spreading involuntarily into a wide smile. “Every morning before breakfast I would steal down into the kitchen and take a piece of bread or fruit to tide me over and walk for an hour or so on the beach without shoes or stockings. I miss the feel of the warm wet sand giving beneath my toes as I made my way along the coast collecting shells here and there. Not far from the house was a great rock with a smooth flat surface that sat on the beach. I would climb on top of it with my journal and charcoal pencils and sketch and write poetry. Sometimes in the evening after the dinner hour, Lord Farthington and I would walk along the beach as well. We wouldn’t say a word, each of us too absorbed in the sounds of the ocean and the power of a dark sea that stretched before us as far as the eye could see. I can remember the feeling of standing there trying to see through the darkness. It was like worship, like God was resting there.”

Mary stopped her speech and looked down at her hands as if embarrassed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes at the recollection of her father and her home. “I apologize. I sometimes forget myself,” Mary sighed deeply, her voice slightly chocked.

“There is no need to apologize, Mary.” Elizabeth replied, smiling warmly. “You describe New Sussex as the perfect paradise. From your description I could imagine myself walking along those shores and smelling the salt air. No wonder you miss your home so.”

The ladies where soon joined by Mr. Darcy and Mr. Brambles. Elizabeth rose to greet her husband and seated herself in a chair across from him so that they could chat briefly as Georgiana engaged Mary in conversation about Georgiana’s last season in London. After persuading Mary and Georgiana to delight them all with music, the Darcys, Mr. Brambles and Mary soon retired for much needed rest.

“Well, Mr. Darcy, what do you think of our Miss Farthington so far.” Elizabeth inquired of her husband, turning from her mirror to face him as she brushed her long brown hair.

“I find that I like her exceedingly,” Darcy replied as he sat on the edge of the bed opposite her. “She is both modest yet confident in her speech, well read and educated and possesses the manners and charms befitting a lady. I am hopeful that Georgiana will find a kindred spirit in Mary.”

“Am I right in concluding, Mr. Darcy, that you would add her to your ranks of truly accomplished women?” Elizabeth whispered, her eyebrows rising in challenge.

Darcy smiled, surprised that she remembered their early conversation at Netherfield where he declared that the mark of a truly accomplished woman is the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.

“Perhaps, Mrs. Darcy. However adding Miss Farthington to that esteemed company would push their ranks above half a dozen.”

Elizabeth laughed gently in reply before setting down her brush and seating herself beside her husband. Darcy soon enfolded her in a warm embrace, placing one arm around her and drawing her close.

“She is a little shy and bookish,” Elizabeth continued as she played absently with the fingers of one of his hands. “She reminds me much of my sister Mary in that regard, although one could never call Miss Farthington plain or sullen.”

“Aren’t you being a little hasty in your appraisal, dear? I found her neither bookish nor overly shy. She has a lively mind, and while not given to wit, she is thoughtful and articulate. As for her shyness and sad demeanor, the reason for those is evident enough I would hope.”

Elizabeth started slightly, lifting her head from his shoulder. “I did not mean it as a critique, merely as an observation. When she spoke of her time in New Sussex this evening, there was such a longing and sadness in her voice. The way she spoke of her home, with such passion and feeling makes me wonder how she will adjust to life here. Can she be happy here with us?”

Darcy paused thoughtfully. He could well imagine the whirlwind of emotions Mary must be dealing with. So many changes to be suddenly thrust upon her. He recalled how he first felt when at a mere three and twenty he was made master of Pemberley and guardian to Georgiana having just finished at Cambridge all without a father or mother to guide him. While Mary did not have the burden of being master of an estate or guardian to a younger sibling, she was robbed of all that was familiar and comfortable to her and in less than two years time she too would be mistress of a great estate.

“Well,” Darcy began after many moments, “I am sure in time she will come to love Pemberley as her home. She is still grieving and it will be some time before her true disposition is made known to us. Until that time, we should endeavor to make her life here as comfortable as possible.”

Elizabeth sighed her agreement, content with her husband’s outlook on the situation. “Yes, Georgiana and I will do whatever is in our power to make her feel welcome. And with Christmas nearly upon us, there will be more than enough activities to keep her diverted. We will treat her as if she is our own sister reunited with us at long last.”

Darcy smiled down at his wife, pleased at her eagerness to welcome Miss. Farthington. He admired his wife’s good and giving nature. He was sure that his wife’s statement was made in earnest and that her welcome of Miss Farthington would be genuine and complete.

Mary’s next few days at Pemberley were consumed with touring the house and grounds by carriage and being introduced to all of the essential staff members, including Mrs. Reynolds, the head housekeeper. Mr. Brambles spent his entire day in Mr. Darcy’s company, attending to business matters and coming to an agreement regarding Mary’s inheritance. Georgiana took it upon herself to personally show Mary around Pemberley, freeing Elizabeth to see to other matters. Mary found the house pleasing although its size and number of rooms caused her some confusion when trying to find her way about. The estate included a breakfast parlor, an east facing parlor for the afternoon, a westward facing parlor for evenings, a solarium filled with exotic plants and flowers, an impressive library, a music room, two dinning rooms, a grand room used for balls, ten guest chambers, two kitchens, two lower floors of servant quarters, six main quarters complete with sitting rooms and dressing rooms and a myriad of hallways, staircases and other rooms of which Mary lost count.

Towards the end of the tour they came upon a large room with bright windows filled with portraits, paintings and lovely statues. A large portrait of Mr. Darcy stood on the east wall that captured the man’s handsome features and tall noble stature, but somehow was unable to capture the warmth and sincerity that Mary found directed towards his family and on occasion, to herself. On the opposite wall was a portrait of Elizabeth in an emerald gown with a small white dog curled at her feet. She looked directly at the viewer with large brown mirth filled eyes and her mouth trying to conceal a smile. The other walls contained a portrait of Georgiana seated at the pianoforte looking shyly at the viewer with her back to the instrument and her hands folded demurely in her lap. Of all the portraits Mary had viewed this day, this one captured the essence of the subject most acutely. Over the marble mantled fireplace hung a large portrait of the late Mr. Darcy with a young Fitzwilliam Darcy at his side and a beautiful woman with abundant black locks seated before him. Her smile was radiant and her large blue eyes shined with warmth and wisdom. Mary stood before this portrait for some minutes.

“I find myself admiring this portrait quite often,” Georgiana replied as she came to stand beside Mary. “I often wonder if my mother had the chance to bestow that same smile upon me before she died. They all look so happy in that painting. I wish I could have known her better. She was so beautiful and kind.”

Mary looked from her portrait to her friend and noticed the sadness behind her serene smile.

“I am sure that she did, Georgiana, and that she would be very proud and pleased to have you as a daughter. I wish I had even a painting to admire of my mother. She also died in childbirth, leaving me without the opportunity of sharing her smiles and tender caresses.”

Georgiana clasped her friends hand in hers and looked to Mary with fresh forming tears in her eyes. “Forgive me, Mary. I did not know.”

“It is alright,” Mary smiled warmly as her eyes also began to water. “I suppose we are sisters in this sorrow. Yet we are also united by knowing the love and tender affections of relations who were both mother and father to us. I can see how well loved you are by your brother and also by Elizabeth. Family is such a comfort…”

Nearly overcome with emotion, Mary slipped from her dear friend’s grasp and walked over to a window, staring unseeing over the sleeping winter landscape of Pemberley. She struggled to force back the tears that now began to tumble down her checks freely. Mary knew how unseemly it was to show such displays of emotion, or so she had been taught by her governess. She also did not want to bring further sadness to her new friend.

“Mary…” Georgiana whispered as she stepped behind Mary, tenderly placing a small hand on her shoulder. “May I ask permission to embrace you?”

“Oh, you need not ask,” Mary replied, her tears now falling in earnest at Georgiana’s shy display of friendship.

The two embraced for several long minutes with Georgiana comforting her friend whose wounds were so fresh. Georgiana had the benefit of the passing of many years since her mother’s death and her dear father’s some ten years ago. She could very well comprehend Mary’s feelings.

“Mary, I am so happy that you have come to stay at Pemberley.” Georgiana began as she moved them both toward a small settee near the fireplace. “I feel that we will soon become great friends. I want you to know that if you ever feel the need to confide in someone or need a friendly ear just to listen, that I am here for you.”

“Thank you, Georgiana,” Mary smiled having finally mastered her tears. “You know, I have hardly ever cried after my father’s death. If anything, I felt numb to just about everything around me. You must think me awfully callous?”

“No, I’d never think that, Mary. Everyone grieves in their own particular way.”

Silence fell between them as they both sat deep in thought. Georgiana searched her mind for something that might be of comfort to her friend. Smiling broadly, Georgiana remembered something that her brother had shown her prior to Mary’s arrival.

“Come, Mary. I have something to show you that you may find comforting. I cannot begin to understand how I overlooked it before.”

Georgiana rose and made her way to a glass and mahogany case that ran most of the length of the east wall. Inside the case was a substantial collection of miniatures of family members, friends and ancestors. A few of the miniatures were just of the eye of a loved one, while others depicted the subject in the bloom of youth. Georgiana searched the case for the particular miniature.

“There,” Georgiana exclaimed pointing to a gold cased miniature next to one of her uncle the Earl of Matlock. “Here is one of your dear Lord Farthington. I dare say it was taken when he was quite young. How handsome he was.”

Mary leaned over the case and smiled. “Yes, that is Lord Farthington. He must have not been more than three and twenty when that was taken. He almost appears the same as I remember him, except for a few gray hairs and lines in his face.”

The miniature depicted a young man in a blue-gray waistcoat and jacket with a white neck cloth intricately tied. His light brown hair framed his face in large waves. His green eyes stared directly at the viewer and crinkled slightly at the outer edges. His long narrow nose pointed to lips curved into a slight smile that looked as if he was suppressing laughter.

“This miniature belonged to my father and was taken soon after they graduated from Cambridge. If you like, I can request that Fitzwilliam give it to you. I am sure that my father would want you to have it.”

“Thank you, Georgiana. You are too kind, but I could not accept it.” Desiring to change the subject, Mary began to examine the other miniatures in the case. Mary inquired after the picture of a striking man with dark black curls and deep blue eyes wearing a red coat. Mary found him quite handsome, with a square jawline and masculine brow. His face had the look of a man trying to look grave and serious despite a nature that was easy and given to laughter and teasing.

“Ah, that is my dear cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. He serves as my guardian with Fitzwilliam after my father died. He is in the army and is like a brother to Fitzwilliam and myself. He often stays with us at Pemberley and at Grovenor House in London when his duties allow. He is due to arrive at Pemberley in a few weeks time for an extended stay of two months or so. I can hardly wait for his arrival; for he is my favorite cousin and we have not had the pleasure of his company for these past two years.”

“I should like to meet him,” Mary replied before turning to another miniature. “And who is this young man below Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

Georgiana paled slightly at the picture of the grinning brown haired man. “That is George Wickham, the son of my father’s steward and the husband of my sister in the law, Lydia,” Georgiana sighed in a low voice.

Mary gazed at her friend in concern. It was as if a dark cloud had passed over Georgiana’s face at the mention of the man. What must he have done to cause her such distress at the mere mention of him? Mary was determined to know more, but held her tongue as she knew Georgiana would share all when and if she pleased.

“Oh my, I have quite forgotten the time, Georgiana. I think it best we leave our perusal of these miniatures until tomorrow.”

“You are quite right, Mary. The time has gotten away from us,” Georgiana paused before turning to her friend with a grin quite reminiscent of Elizabeth. “I wonder if you have been studious during our tour of the house today. I will quiz you now and let you lead the way back to our quarters.”

Mary laughed, surprised at Georgiana’s challenge. Nodding in reply, Mary led the way out of the parlor and towards their quarters. Georgiana was pleased that Mary found the way to her quarters with little trouble. However, during a few turns, Georgiana had to gently redirect her friend as she became quite turned around. When they arrived at their rooms a quarter of an hour later, they hugged their goodbye and prepared for dinner.

The days soon turned into weeks as Mary adjusted to life at Pemberley. She soon found herself quite comfortable roaming the halls of Pemberley and navigating the intricacies of country life. Mary found Georgiana to be a great friend, often spending hours practicing playing the harp and pianoforte together and walking about the grounds when the weather allowed. In the short span of a week, Mary found herself soon attached to Georgiana and felt blessed by her friendship. She could not find the same ease with Mr. Darcy, however. Mary found herself secretly intimidated by the tall gentleman despite all of his efforts to draw her into conversation during dinner or his open invitation for her to explore his library whenever she chose. Despite being only in his early thirties, Mr. Darcy had a fatherly air about him, directing all in his house with ease. All that is except for his wife Elizabeth, who teased him mercilessly in front of them. At first Mary found herself quite shocked by Elizabeth’s forthrightness with her husband and her easy cheeky nature. However, Mr. Darcy seemed to enjoy his wife’s spirit, even rising to the challenge of teasing her on occasion. Even with such displays of lightheartedness, Mary could not bring herself to be entirely comfortable in the man’s presence.

However, Mary soon found herself incapable of being long out of the company of the young Master Darcy. Little William Bennet Darcy soon became her ever constant companion and biggest fan, aside from Georgiana. When Mary first met little William, she found him to be a shy boy easily frightened by strangers and one who sought comfort in the folds of his mother’s skirt. The shyness that marked their first meeting soon gave way to a rapt fascination with his new playmate. On their second meeting, Mary was pleased to see that William had summoned the courage to forsake the protection of his mother’s skirts to creep towards her and pester her with a litany of questions. Mary soon came to realize that curiosity rather than courage led to William’s growing talkativeness. One question tumbled after another as William approached the mysterious new house member: Where do you live? Who is your papa? How old are you? Do you like strawberries? Why are you brown? Does your color rub off? Why is your hair like that? Will you stay here forever? Mary took care to answer every question with patience and good nature. Even his impertinent questions about her hair and skin were answered with a soft smile and gentle reply.

Having concluded that she was a princess from some faraway enchanted isle, as he came to understand New Sussex, William could hardly stand to be far from Mary’s side. William was fond of her stories, gentle pinches and undivided attention when she visited him in the nursery. He looked to her late morning visits with all the anticipation and excitement of a four year old child. Mary, for her part, was quite enamored as well. She was soon won over by William’s wide brown eyes and soft chubby cheeks. She also savored the opportunity to concoct stories for such an obliging and appreciative audience. In addition to her new found friend Georgiana, little William was a source of comfort and light in her existence.

Three weeks had passed since Mary’s arrival at Pemberley, and she soon found herself settling into the swing of things. Her late morning afternoons were spent in the company of little William while much of the rest of her day was spent in the company of Georgiana, talking, knitting or practicing music together. Sunday mornings were spent attending services at the rectory not far from Pemberley. Mary found her first two Sundays at the church somewhat trying. She enjoyed the sermons well enough and the song selection, but Mary was ever knowledgeable of the eyes of her fellow church goers. They always seemed to be upon her and low whispers would greet her as she walked down the aisle to her place in the front pew with the other members of the Darcy household. Mary could not fathom if these whispers were out of curiosity or distaste. Frankly, it mattered not to her, both options were disconcerting. Mary desired nothing more than to worship in relative peace. The closing hymn was the high point of church, for Mary, as she knew that she would soon be free to return home. On Sunday afternoons, Mary would steal away on her own to the confines of Mr. Darcy’s library, although she was still a little wary of visiting the room when he was absconded there. Mary would spend her time in prayer, or writing in her weathered journal or reading some new found literary treasure. Besides her visits with William, her times sequestered in the library were her favorite.

On Tuesday evening the cook prepared a sumptuous meal for dinner, putting before them dishes of such various colors, flavors and textures that Mary was soon overwhelmed. Never had she eaten such a variety of dishes in one meal that spanned the continent. Mary noted that Mr. Brambles seemed most content with what was before him, taking little time away from his plate for conversation and focusing on savoring the tastes and textures before him.

“My compliments to your cook, Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Brambles began as he lifted his wine glass in salute. “I do not remember when I last enjoyed a meal so satisfying.”

“Thank you, Mr. Brambles. I believe Mrs. Murphy thought to give us a tour of European cuisine in your honor.” Mr. Darcy replied as he signaled a servant to refill his wine glass. “Miss Farthington, I understand you were able to tour the grounds of Pemberley visiting tenants with Georgiana today. I trust you found everything to your liking.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy. The grounds are so very well maintained. I am anxious to see them once spring has arrived.”

Darcy smiled as he was always well pleased to hear Pemberley praised. “Well, Pemberley at its best during the springtime. I am sure you will have your fill of gardens and groves then. You may even venture to discover the hidden glens that my cousins and I were so fond of in our youth...”

The entrance of a servant with an express post interrupted Mr. Darcy. Thanking the servant stiffly, Darcy went to reach for the letter displayed on the servant’s tray.

“Your pardon, sir, but this letter is addressed to Mr. Brambles,” the servant demurely redirected as he made his way over to Mr. Brambles.

A surprised Mr. Brambles rose to accept the letter. Hastily breaking the red seal and reading through the contents, Mr. Brambles whitened slightly before turning his eyes toward Mary.

“Whatever is the matter, Mr. Brambles? You look unwell.” Elizabeth asked worriedly.

“No, I am quite well, Mrs. Darcy. It is just that I have been summoned back to London with all immediacy.”

“Summoned to London?” Mary asked rising from her chair. “Is it something serious, Mr. Brambles?”

“I am afraid that it is, Miss Farthington. I must cut my time here short. I must even leave this very hour with all immediacy.”

“Then you shall have use of my coach, Mr. Brambles,” Darcy said as he rose placing his napkin on the tabletop. "My horses are among the fastest in the county and they shall carry you London expediently."

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are most kind,” Mr. Brambles replied before walking to Mary and affectionately taking both of her hands in his. “I am sorry to leave you so soon, Miss Farthington. I know I promised to stay with you here a full month at least, but you seem to be quite well here and have almost come to think on this place as your home. I promise that I will write from London at the first opportunity.”

Mr. Brambles bowed and bid farewell to Georgiana and Elizabeth before following Mr. Darcy from the dining room to prepare for his journey. Dinner progressed without Mary registering a word that was said, her mind was so focused on Mr. Brambles departure. She was torn between genuine concern for the affairs that called for the urgent summons and resignation that Pemberley was indeed her new home. The past months had been so consumed with traveling and temporary stays that Mary did not fully register that she would never truly return to New Sussex or her old way of life. Not in the mood for evening card games or music, Mary made her excuses and retired early to her chambers.