Author's Note: This is a sequel to my story "All Good Things". A little while ago there was a discussion on the board about the next generation of Darcys and Bingleys so this is my contribution - hope it pleases.

The character of Sir James Hampton is borrowed from Annie's fabulous story "Caroline's Lament"

he year was 1833 and John Keble had preached his famous Assize Sermon prophesying the end of the Church of England but King William IV, brother of the Prince Regent, still sat on the throne and the worst excesses of the industrial revolution had not touched on rural Derbyshire. The Darcy and Bingley children looked forward to peaceful lives in country governed in godliness and tranquillity, or at least, their parents did on their behalf.

On the day following his eldest sister's birthday George Darcy returned from Eton. He was fifteen years old and the best combination of his parents, having inherited his father's looks and character but overlaid with a certain lightness and brightness from his mother.

His greatest friend at Eton was fourteen year old Henry Bingley the youngest son of his Aunt Jane and her husband Charles. Henry exceeded George in cleverness by half again, and neither of his brothers, having completed their degrees at Cambridge, could hope to hold a candle to him, but George loved him and not having an envious bone in his body did not grudge him his superior intelligence. Henry was fueled by ambition in a way that George never would be, because George would one day inherit Pemberley which was generally reckoned to be one of the loveliest pieces of land in England, but as a younger son, Henry was already aware of his responsibility both to himself and to his family. His father intended him for the army, and his mother for the church, but he had already resolved to make his own fortune in the British East India Company, and on that and that alone could George ever feel a twinge of jealousy. Henry would travel, have adventures and see the world, not on an expensive tour but in reality, and make a life of his own rather than live one mapped out by his ancestors. However, on this blissful sunny day in 1833 he had come home from school to find a new hunter in the stable and had not one reason to regret being so very rich and comfortable.

Henry Bingley, for his part, had no regrets either. He had arrived at Ladywell Abbey a little earlier than George had at Pemberley and was lounging pleasantly in a hammock in the far garden, reflecting on the possibility of going to Oxford in two years time. His father, his two elder brothers and Mr. Darcy had all gone to Eton and then Cambridge, but Henry had already had enough of their shadows and reputations and had set his sights on "the other place." His father might object, but his brothers would not care. Frederick, the eldest, was charming and easy-going to the last and had no worries in life, as he would inherit Ladywell. Charles was moody with a weak chest and cared for nothing more than a good library and trips to the south of France when his health required it. Henry Bingley was not a sociable creature, unlike George he did not relish holidays as an opportunity to be with his family, although he did love his mother dearly. He was of the opinion that a good holiday served its purpose by firing one up for the next term, and his greatest vexation was the effort demanded by various schemes to avoid the trips to Longbourn, Winchester, Cornwall and even Kympton.

Winchester was the home of his Aunt Mary whose husband had recently been elevated to the bishopric and whose son, Jeremy, had just come down from Cambridge and was set to follow in his father's profession. Henry did not mind Jeremy too much, he was handsome, clever and a good swordsman but Uncle Bish and Aunt Meowler were intolerable. The very idea of another two or three weeks of listening to his aunt sing... Cornwall, by comparison, was a much better place. Aunt Lydia and Uncle Fitzwilliam were good-humoured and undemanding. Aunt Georgie could sing without encouraging half the neighbourhood dogs to participate and Uncle Dashwood, being a General, preferred shooting people to animals so there was never any pressure to go hunting, a past-time Henry found thoroughly distasteful. His cousin, Anne Elizabeth Dashwood, was a sensible and almost interesting young woman and, like her mother, she possessed that most elusive and enchanting of all female qualities - quietness.

Kympton, a pretty little village on the Pemberley estate, was the home of Aunt Kitty and Dr Richard Owen. Henry still called the former Master of Christchurch, Doctor Owen, it was unthinkable that the once principal of his chosen Oxford college should degenerate into a mere "uncle." Aunt Kitty...Kitty was another matter altogether, alone of all Grandmother Bennet's daughters Kitty had inherited her querulousness without an ounce of her energy and good-humour. She made lace, ate cake and complained. Her son, Edward, was due back from his first term at Oxford soon but Henry hoped he to avoid a visit to Kympton Parsonage by inviting Edward to Ladywell. Her daughter, Richelda, was a plain brown-haired, grey-eyed creature who had never spent a day away from Kympton in her life except when expressly demanded by one of her aunts.

Henry rolled over allowing himself to tumble out of the hammock on to the warm daisy strewn grass. There was not a place on earth as tedious as Kympton unless... unless, he sat up suddenly, jolted out of his reverie by the most appalling thought. York. York, one of the loveliest mediaeval cities in Europe, possessed inhabitants so dreadful as to make those of Winchester and Kympton positively fascinating. The Collinses lived at York and Yorkshire was much too near. The Reverend Mr. Collins, on the death of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had been fortunate enough to obtain a position as Archdeacon of York Minster and had removed there to a very handsome house with his far from handsome family. Mrs. Collins, Aunt Elizabeth's old friend, was pleasant enough but her husband was a pompous old bore and her three daughters exceeded each other in plainness and dullness. It may be said, however, that not everyone shared Henry's opinion of the Misses Collins. In ascending order Miss Williamina was certainly plain but she was genuinely accomplished; Miss Catherine was not excessively intelligent but she had a pleasing appearance and an amiable manner; and, the eldest, Miss Olivia Collins, was both intelligent and amiable. Henry, though, was not alone in his estimation of their only brother, Lucas. This young man had just turned eighteen and had gone up to Cambridge with the express intention of merely keeping terms, as his father had done before him, rather than acquiring any useful knowledge. He had not had his father's unhappy childhood, the Reverend Collins had faults enough but he was never cruel to his children, but had inherited all the worst Collins characteristics. He was pompous, self-important, vain and in every way perfectly odious. The only way in which he did not resemble Mr. Collins was in an utter lack of even false humility, no, Lucas Collins was as arrogant a fellow as Henry had ever met.

York, he thought, must be avoided whatever the cost.

He picked up his book (Mrs. Radcliffe had still the power to fascinate after a generation) and headed for the house. A smart carriage stood outside and four smarter horses were being led away by servants; Henry sighed deeply. There were chaps at school without families, just mouldering old guardians tucked away somewhere and a firm of solicitors doling out money, and there were times he envied them. His mother was one of five sisters and the consequences of that have already been mentioned, but his father had not the advantage of being an only child either. He had two sisters. The elder, Aunt Louisa was a widow and lived in a cottage on the estate - she ranked with Aunt Kitty...Kitty on the interesting stakes. His younger aunt, the ever elegant and expensive Lady Hampton had now arrived for her summer visit.

Now, there was not a finer fellow than Uncle Hampton in the entire country; both Henry and George had availed themselves of his Scotch and cigars at Easter without being reported to their fathers, although Sir James had requested they refrain from doing it again at least for a couple of years. However, this excellent fellow was married to Aunt Caroline and seemed to think himself jolly lucky for being so. It was enough to make Henry despair of the whole institution of marriage - if a sterling example of English manhood like Sir James could get himself hitched to a harpy like Aunt Caroline, what hope was there for more commonplace chaps?

"Henry... Henry, I see you, so do not imagine you can slink off without greeting your Aunt Caroline." His mother's voice carried down the stairs and Henry was forced to await her descent and accompany her into the drawing room from whence he could already hear Lady Hampton's arch tones demanding to know the whereabouts of her "dear Gem."

Jane Bingley at forty-five had only improved in elegance and graciousness from the pretty girl Charles had married twenty-three years ago. She looked as good in a blue dress now as she had then and tolerated Lady Hampton with an equanimity only her nearest friends could distinguish from true affection.

"Aunt Caroline is really much more interested in Gem than in me," said Henry as they linked arms and walked towards the drawing room, "do you think I might be excused for a few weeks at least?"

"No, I do not," laughed Jane, "and even in a house this size you could not hope to avoid her for more than a day or two."

"Give me the chance," muttered Henry as the liveried footman stepped forward to open the door.

"Henry - darling!" cried Lady Hampton insincerely. Her fondness for her youngest nephew was only matched by his for her.

"Aunt Caroline," he replied in a suspiciously like tone, "how are you?"

"I am simply fine," purred Caroline returning to her seat beside Mrs. Hurst.

"Good term?" enquired Sir James as they shook hands.

"Excellent, thank you," replied Henry stuffing the unimpressive novel into his pocket, "didn't beat George Darcy into the first team for cricket, though."

"You aren't even in the second team," protested his father with indignation.

"Poor show!" echoed Sir James, "You may be heading for a triple first at Oxford, old boy, but the British Empire has no use for men who can't play cricket."

Henry grinned and made his excuses. Someone in this cricket afflicted family had to make the break with bat and tradition and he was never one to shrink from breaking anything.

"Do we dine here or at Pemberley tonight?" enquired Mrs. Hurst languidly.

"Here," replied Jane, "tomorrow we dine at Pemberley."

"Oh, Pemberley... how I love Pemberley..."

Henry closed the door on his aunt's effusive eulogy on the delights of his godfather's estate and crept along the back corridor, being particularly quiet as he passed the gunroom where Frederick and Charles were engaged in cleaning rifles for the next bout of bird shooting. He was not quiet enough, however.

"Henry!" The door opened and Frederick's head appeared, "Are we eating at Pemberley tonight?"

"No, brother. You and Aunt Caroline both must wait till the morrow to see the delightful Jemima."

Charles laughed, "Not still in love with Aunt Caroline's little gem, are you Freddy?"

He winked at Henry as he spoke and both boys looked intently at their brother, his affection for his cousin Jemima Dashwood was a well-known and well-worn joke between them. Frederick, however, did not find it equally amusing.

It was that sister who had just celebrated her twentieth birthday. Her father had died fighting Napoleon when she was born, and her mother had remarried Mr. Darcy of Pemberley some two years later, which had resulted in her removal from Cornwall where she had been born to Derbyshire on the edge of the peak district which, although it was beautiful, was not Cornwall and too far from the sound of the sea.

She had been educated at one of the finest private seminaries in Town with her two younger sisters Jane and Elizabeth and had outshone them at every accomplishment, excepting patience, with effortless ease. Jane Darcy, known familiarly as Jennie and Elizabeth Darcy whom her friends called Liza, were by no means stupid and had each inherited a fair share of looks and intelligence from their parents which put them far ahead of the generality of girls. Jemima, however, excelled them in appearance as they did Charlotte Collins' daughters. She was not entirely without fault, however. She lacked Jennie's sweetness and Liza's good sense but where there are honey curls and clear grey eyes to set off delicate porcelain skin and a light pleasing figure many virtues may go unmissed.

Part 4

George arrived back for dinner with the intelligence that Lady Hampton would call tomorrow afternoon for Jemima to take her shopping in Lambton.

"Jemima, dearest, haven't you bought every yard of ribbon Lambton can supply?" enquired her stepfather who could not relish the idea of seeing Lady Hampton sooner than necessary.

"My dear Mr. Darcy," she responded in like tone, "I believe Hardy's to have got in some new Indian muslin and you know how Caroline loves a new muslin."

"I don't recall seeing her in anything less than the finest China silk in the whole of our acquaintance." he replied.

"But I like nothing so well as a really good muslin and she knows how I value her opinion."

He made a face, "Why don't you take her as far as Derby, there are sure to be far finer muslins in Derby?"

Jemima looked arch, "But then you would miss us at dinner, Papa, and you would not want that!"

"No, of course."

"Have some sympathy for my daughter, sir," remarked Elizabeth, "she has not sisters and aunts enough in the vicinity, she depends utterly on the occasional visit from Lady Hampton to know what to wear."

"I would look a fright indeed were I to take Aunt Kitty or Richelda with me to choose new clothes," cried Jemima.

"I think Richelda is always beautifully dressed," said Jennie in defence of her friend.

"And I think you are all remarkably shallow to care so much about clothes in the first place," was Liza's contribution to the conversation.

"Get thee to a nunnery!" replied Jemima loudly.

"May we eat in peace?" demanded Mr. Darcy.

"I warned you about getting married and having daughters," said Mr. Bennet, "but you would not listen!"

The next day passed in ease and tranquillity. Mr. Darcy managed not to be at home when Lady Hampton arrived to collect Jemima and Mrs. Darcy managed equally well not to make lady Hampton welcome; she never had.

An evening at Ladywell Abbey with her sister and brother-in-law was always a pleasure for Elizabeth and even Sir James Hampton was considered delightful company. Caroline, alas, was not. She was, to the very end, the snobbish girl that had come to Hertfordshire all those years ago determined to dislike everyone and everything. Not for the first time Elizabeth wondered what her husband's cousin, the charming and intelligent baronet saw in her. Love, she deduced, was the strangest and most indecipherable of human emotions.

Jane Bingley bore with characteristic grace the transfer of her niece's affection from herself to her sister-in-law. She shared with Mr. Darcy the opinion that Jemima was going through yet another awkward stage in her development and that it would not last for long. In vain did Elizabeth attempt to persuade them that twenty was too late for awkward stages, as far as her aunt and stepfather were concerned Jemima was the dearest of creatures, and one in whom neither could see any fault. Indeed, to Mr. Darcy her faults were all perfections.

"How do well all plan to spend the summer?" asked Mrs. Hurst when the gentlemen retired.

"I am going to Florence," smiled Lady Hampton.

"If you are going to Florence I am going with you!" cried Jemima.

Only if I die young, thought Mrs. Darcy.

"And I will go wherever Jemima goes!" chimed in Frederick whose idea of a good time was not spent smoking cigars with his father and uncles.

"I should simply adore Paris," said Mrs. Hurst, "so would Mr. Hurst if he were alive."

Louisa Hurst had inhabited a small but picturesque cottage on Mr. Bingley's estate since the death of her husband some two years ago. "Are they sure he is dead and not only drunk?" Elizabeth Darcy had enquired anxiously of her husband but he was indeed dead and Mrs. Hurst had arrived full of bland, happy nothings. She was still full of them.

"It looks like a family trip to Italy, then," said Caroline with less pleasure than she felt. Jemima Dashwood she would take to the ends of the earth but the others? God in heaven prevent her from spending more time than the demands of decency dictated with her sister or nephew. She could barely believe she had once depended utterly on Louisa's advice and friendship during those awful years when she had been in love with Mr. Darcy. How could anyone rely on Louisa for anything?

"Your family, not mine," remarked Elizabeth with determination.

"Frederick wants nothing more than a cultural trip with his favourite aunts," laughed Caroline but her laugh was an insincere echo of bygone days at Netherfield. Elizabeth recognized it and realized, too late, that she had unwittingly declared war. Caroline, rapidly bored with the idea of a month in the country, would lovingly fan the flames of any discord between herself and Jemima on the subject of Florence.

"I am sure we will find excellent husbands for you all," simpered Mrs. Hurst into the dreadful silence that followed Caroline's statement.

"I am very particular, Mrs. Hurst," said Jemima, "my list of qualifications for a suitable husband is remarkably long. Would you like to hear it?"

Jennie and Liza exchanged dolorous looks; they had heard it before.

"Put Duke or Prince at the top, dearest," giggled Lady Hampton, "the heiress of Everingley should settle for nothing less."

Jemima pretended to write on an invisible piece of paper, looking up she caught her mother's eye, "You do want me to marry well, mamma?"

"Very well," replied Elizabeth, "but I think love should come before status."

Caroline snorted derisively into her coffee cup. She had pretended for twenty years that Elizabeth had married Mr. Darcy for Pemberley and she never missed an opportunity to express it.

"I want to marry for love more than anything," sighed Jennie dreamily, "even if he is only a music teacher."

"Here are the gentlemen," announced Elizabeth hearing with relief her husband's voice in the corridor, "Jemima?"

"Yes, mamma?"

"Tomorrow when Mr. Holly comes to give the harp lessons remind me to check that he really is sixty-four."

"Papa, might I go to Florence with Lady Hampton?" Jemima had bounded across the room, flung her arms around Mr. Darcy's neck and voiced her request before he was properly through the door.

Elizabeth winced, why were the tricks so endearing at two so unbearable at twenty?

"Put Papa down, dear," she demanded in the tone formulated for dogs but best used on daughters.

Jemima smiled and returned to her place. She had learned what only one other woman had, that Mr. Darcy who was outwardly so stern and impassive, was probably the softest-hearted man in the universe. Elizabeth watched them alternating between smiles and sadness; whatever effort if any her husband had put into loving his rival's child had long ceased, it was now as easy and natural as breathing, he had never said 'no' to her and would not start now. If he lets her go to Europe I will lose her, she thought. Oh, God, don't let Caroline steal my baby!.

Chapter 5

Elizabeth could barely sleep that night. The hot weather broke into the most dramatic storm for years; she stood on the balcony outside her room watching the lightning flashes across the sky pretending to dip into the lake and then exploding like fire crackers on the horizon. Her prayer, fervent and repetitive, was that Jemima would change her mind about Florence. She searched vainly among their acquaintance for someone she might fall in love with for the summer - there must be one nice young man among the sons of their friends. No, not one. Except Frederick, but he was too sweet and sensitive.

"Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy joined her at the window, "What are you doing?"

"Watching the storm," she replied.

"Well, watch it from the bed."

"No, dearest, I like it here. I cannot sleep."

"And I can't sleep without you."

Elizabeth sighed, "I really can't. Fitzwilliam, please find some reason not to let Caroline take Jemima on tour with her."

He frowned gently, "Sit down and tell me all about it."

Elizabeth sat down tearfully and wondered where to begin.

"I think Caroline has too much influence on her as it is," she began.

"I thought we agreed it was a phase."

"Forgive me, you and Jane decided that. I was not party to it."

He sighed heavily, "What can I do? She does as she pleases, she always has."

"Then we must stop her before she becomes completely unbearable."

"She could never become unbearable."

"Well, give her six months with Lady Hampton. How often must I tell you and not be listened to - that woman is a snake!"

"Only her shoes," he replied with a small attempt at humour. "Elizabeth, my love, if the idea pains you so much I will speak to James and see if he will dissuade Caroline from the idea. I think we both know what will happen if we refuse Jemima."

"She would not be so headstrong if you had not indulged her all these years," she sighed, "the other three are as docile as lambs!"

"And she is the only one like you," he said smiling, "it's hard not to love such a picture of you."

"I was never so willful!"

"Your mother says otherwise," he smiled wickedly.

"That was when I wouldn't marry Mr. Collins! Jemima is like that all the time."

He stood up and put his arms around her, "I recall hearing a girl say that the very rich can afford to give offence where ever they go. Jemima's problem is that she has not learned not to do it at home."

Unaware of having anything so distasteful as a problem, Jemima spent the following day working out an itinerary for Europe. It started, as do all good itineraries, at the dressmaker. She was remarkably bored having left school four years ago and never having lived in London. Her parents, most unaccountably, preferred the countryside.

"Cowper said, 'God made the country and man made the town'," Liza informed her. There was a certain logic about that Jemima could not refute but found an answer true to form.

"He was so mad he admitted himself to the asylum."

"Your father loved the country by all accounts."

Jemima froze. What accounts? Who did Liza think she was talking about her father?

"And so does your father, thus far we are equal, Miss Darcy!"

Liza squirmed and pocketed her book wishing she had not bothered to politely look round Jemima's open door. Miss Darcy? What was she playing at now?

"But in a year's time I get my inheritance and believe me I won't spend above four weeks a year shut up in this hole!"

Liza fled. Jemima had some nerve calling poor Cowper mad, she reflected upon reaching the safety of the library, calling Pemberley a hole - she's as mad as a hatter herself!

Jemima returned to her books and paper. The list of things to see and do in Italy, even without the dressmaker, had reached proportions equaled only by the qualities she required in a husband. Ultimately it came down to two things, Como and Raphael. She remembered with glee something a poet once said, 'if a man has only the shirt on his back he should sell it to see Lake Como' and her passion for Raphael was beyond compare.

Later that afternoon, having spoken with his cousin, Sir James broached the subject of Italy with his wife. She was little short of furious.

"Not go to Italy?" she said.

"Not this year," he replied diffidently. They had never argued, one had always been willing to give way to the other but this was different and he knew it. Caroline had set her heart on Italy and Miss Dashwood.

"I see. Eliza Bennet is determined to keep that poor child cooped up here until she marries, so I must forgo my trip to avoid any unpleasantness between her and her daughter. I am right, James, am I not?"

Sir James quailed, he tried to avoid the subject having started it. "Eliza Darcy, Caroline, they have been married a long time."

Caroline's silks made a slight hissing sound on the tiled floor, "Forgive me, Eliza Bennet or Dashwood or Darcy or whatever she calls herself, is not spoiling my trip to Italy!"

Sir James sighed, "At least do not take Jemima with you."

"I have invited her, darling, I cannot change my mind now."

"You have not invited her. You mentioned you were going and she said she would like to go with you," he said patiently.

"You were not there," she replied in a tone of such finality that he did not continue.

Chapter 6

Lady Hampton visited Mrs. Owen at Kympton that afternoon. Kitty's health was not good and her sixteen year old daughter, Frederica, was more than her poor nerves could manage.

"Have another piece of cake, Lady Hampton," she smiled, "indeed Frederica is in need of a vacation as are my poor nerves. She has no compassion on them, you know."

"They never do at that age," replied Caroline. Not more cake, surely. How has she remained so thin?

"They care about nothing," said Kitty with her mouth full, "I have been trying to teach her to work Brussels lace all winter and do you think she has made anything worth wearing yet? Not a thing!"

Caroline glanced with desultory sympathy at the plain, dark haired girl opposite, What a miserable existence.

Frederica could not have been more thrilled at the prospect of a summer in Italy. She had spent almost her whole life in Derbyshire since her father had given up his academic post at Oxford for the quiet of a rural life. Her brother, Edward, was now a student at his father's old college but she had been kept at home with her mother, she hadn't even gone to school with Jemima, Liza and Jennie.

"Edward will be home for the summer," continued Kitty, "more cake, anyone? He is such good company I shall not miss you a bit, Frederica, you had best go with your cousins."

Caroline sat back and smiled. It was good military policy to attack one's enemy at the weakest point and they didn't get much weaker than Kitty with her lace, her cake and her dearest Edward.

Elizabeth walked from Pemberley to Ladywell Abbey the next morning. It was not a long walk as the two estates bordered on each other and Bingley had built the new house as close to the boundary with Pemberley as he could. She found not only Jane but Jennie and Frederica as well. Frederica had found some old books on Italy in her father's library and brought them with her quite forgetting that Ladywell Abbey had a considerable library of its own; a tenth of it belonged to Pemberley, Bingley never remembered to return the books he had borrowed.

"More Italy?" Elizabeth smiled at Jane, "Italy is all the rage at Pemberley, I hope Mr. Darcy tells Jemima she isn't going - I am not brave enough!"

Jane smiled weakly. Elizabeth smiled back, "Jane, are you all right?"

"I am fine," she replied, "but I have bad news. Caroline went to Kitty yesterday and offered to take Frederica to Italy with her..."

Elizabeth's face fell, "Oh, no!"

Jane shrugged her shoulders, "I am afraid so. Kitty was thrilled, you know how she contrives to have the poor girl away from home when Edward is expected."

Elizabeth threw herself back in the chair, "Now Jennie will want to go!"

Jane nodded, "It gets worst. If Jennie goes then you will have to let Jemima go, if Jemima goes Frederick will want to go and if Frederick goes..."

"They will all want to go..." finished Elizabeth weakly.

"Are we talking about Italy?" asked Bingley joining them.

"I am sick of the place already!" cried Elizabeth, "I came here to get away from it at home."

"Let Caroline take our eight or nine assorted sons, daughters, nephews and nieces to Italy with her if she likes," grinned Bingley, "I can think of no-one who deserves them more."

Elizabeth chuckled, "They will wear her out! Can you imagine Caroline persuading George and Henry into an art gallery?"

"Charles will want to fish in the Arno," added Bingley, "I can see him perched on the Ponte Vecchio with his rods!"

Jane, however, did not share in the general merriment. "I see quarrels and love-affairs and all manner of intrigue."

Bingley widened his eyes roguishly, "Murder, even? Does drowning one's aunt in a fountain carry a very high penalty in Italy do you suppose?"

"They cannot possibly go," said Elizabeth, "I will just have to tell Jennie."

"Yet this is the first thing she's ever asked for," stated Jane sadly.

Elizabeth sighed, "Yes, I know. Jemima has never stopped asking and getting, we are at the stage now where Darcy gives her what she wants before she asks for it, she is almost out of control. I feel very guilty about Jennie but I cannot hand Jemima over to Caroline for six months."

"Mamma, has Aunt Jane been telling you about Lady Hampton's kind invitation to Italy?" Jennie was full of smiles and quiet excitement.

"She even says we can invite Olivia Collins if we want!" shouted Frederica as she ran into the house for writing materials.

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged glances. "Charlotte will only be too pleased to let her go," sighed Elizabeth, "they could never afford it themselves."

"Like Frederica," said Jane, "Kitty and Richard save every last farthing for Edward, she has never had anything pleasant for herself."

"I think our hand has been forced," said Elizabeth quietly, "we, who should be so wise as to be immune, have fallen victim to one of Caroline's famous schemes."

"Do we make a family trip, then?" suggested Jane.

"I couldn't face it," replied her husband.

"Nor I," said Elizabeth.

"I will see what I can do," said Jane comfortingly. "Frederica! When you have quite finished using my paper bring some out to me. I will write to Mary," she said, "and then to Lydia and Georgiana."

"Richard does not fit in with his cousins," sighed Elizabeth, "but I suppose you cannot help inviting him."

"Invitations, eh?" said Bingley, "so it's definite, then. Someone is taking the Bingley, Darcy, Owen, Collins and Dashwood children away for the entire summer?"

"I am," replied Jane stoutly. "We have already been advised to take Charles south for his health and so it may work to our advantage as well."

"We had agreed on the South of France," said Bingley.

"I know," sighed Jane, "but I cannot be in two places at once and I am not letting Charles go abroad by himself and I am sure Lizzy does not want Jemima alone with Caroline for longer than necessary."

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently, "I do not wish to go, I know I could not go that far with Caroline without there being some unpleasantness and Jane is the only person I would entrust her to."

"I do not imagine Richard will want to come, Lizzy, but as you say he must be asked," continued Jane sealing her letter to Mary, "As for Anne Dashwood I think we might lose her among the rest, she will be no bother."

Bingley and Elizabeth exchanged glances and roared with laughter, "Jane, dearest, if she is anything like her mother she will create more intrigue and apprehension than the rest all put together!" said her husband.

"For one so sweet and quiet Georgiana certainly did cause more than her fair share of worry," sighed Elizabeth, "Are you sure you can cope with all this, Jane?"

"Quite sure," replied Jane, "Lizzy, I too have managed a great house and estate and brought up three children."

Elizabeth acquiesced. Ladywell Abbey was not as grand as Pemberley but Jane's responsibilities were greater than her own. If Mr. Darcy had a problem he took it straight to his steward, if Mr. Bingley had a problem he took it to Jane and she dealt with the steward. Still... the children were a handful.

"I am hoping to persuade the Dashwoods or the Fitzwilliams to accompany us," continued Jane as she started her second letter.

"Ah, that sounds better," said Elizabeth, "a couple of military men are just what they need!"

Mrs. Bingley's letters were written and dispatched. Elizabeth resolved that she would speak to her husband and her daughter immediately upon returning to Pemberley and hope to limit whatever damage might be caused by this trip as effectively as possible.

Chapter 7

The project was organized with alarming rapidity. It seemed to Elizabeth that Jane's letters south had been carried on angel wings, so quickly did the replies appear. Georgiana and her husband did not wish to visit Italy, but were more than happy for Anne to join the party. Elizabeth had the distinct impression that Georgiana was anxious to get her daughter out of the country for a while.

The Fitzwilliams accepted the invitation as both Jane and Elizabeth had expected them to. Lydia and the Colonel had no children and moved about a good deal; they took the waters in Bath, went to London for concerts, visited Longbourn regularly and frequently found themselves in Derbyshire. Elizabeth thought it an odd way to live, although the year that Mr. Darcy had much business in London, the twins had scarlet fever, George ran away from school and Jemima took up with Lady Hampton, she would have given much to be childless and footloose. Her envy lasted only as long as the recollection that Lydia could not have children and that the Colonel had originally planned those trips and diversions to lift her depression and finally they had become a habit.

Colonel Fitzwilliam would be an invaluable traveling companion for both Jane and Jemima. In Elizabeth's opinion he was the only man, next to Mr. Darcy, she would trust with Jemima's welfare. Sir James Hampton was decent and honourable but occasionally lacking in discretion and completely taken in by Caroline; the man who could think Caroline Bingley an angel could not be relied upon to stand up to Jemima. Lydia, too, was a strangely comforting chaperone. She was still giddy for her years, it was remarked upon everywhere that Mrs. Fitzwilliam laughed too much; she still ripped bonnets to pieces and made them up "better" and she still did not know what it was to sit out a dance but, and this was the vital difference in Elizabeth's eyes, she was actively aware of how much happier her life was with Colonel Fitzwilliam compared to the way it would have been with Wickham. She would not permit her niece to be taken in and deceived.

The last letter to be replied to was the one sent to Mary. It came from Jeremy himself thanking his Aunt Jane for the offer in quite affectionate terms and declining it. Jane wondered at it, as Jeremy was so interested in history but Elizabeth knew from having Jeremy at Pemberley that he was too serious to endure the idea of going away with his cousins and, in a charitable mood, she could not entirely blame him. Again, though, she detected more of a desire to remain in England that summer than to avoid Italy. The notion of an attachment between Jeremy Owen and Anne Dashwood flitted across her mind - disapproved of by Georgiana hence her uncharacteristic desire to get rid of Anne. She smiled to herself. I am making matches now - Jane and Mrs. Hurst are affecting my mind! But Jeremy Owen was quite handsome... the looks which had made Mary such a plain young woman were transformed into something quite striking in her son and he was quiet, serious and clever, perhaps just the thing for Anne...

Her gentle reverie on the future of her niece and nephew was disturbed by laughter, the laughter of Lady Hampton and Jemima sharing secrets. She sighed and turned away from the window.

"Jane, I am still not sure... Caroline and Jemima... look at them!"

Jane smiled gently, "Lizzy, why do you not come with us?"

Elizabeth sat down on the piano stool and bit back tears, "I would fight with Caroline and make things between Jemima and myself worse not better."

"When Jemima sees what a lovely world is out there, she will forget Caroline," Jane took her sister's hand comfortingly, "you over-rate their affection."

"I suppose I do, but I am never sure."

The door opened and Mr. Darcy entered with Mr. Bennet, "I have looked everywhere," he said, "what possesses you to use this room in the morning - it is too cold."

"We do not feel the cold, Mr. Darcy," smiled Jane as she left, "our Hertfordshire upbringing has made us hardy."

He sat down in the chair Jane had vacated and looked closely at his wife, "Elizabeth my love, do not upset yourself. Jemima will never be happy until she has made a spectacle of herself in some public place; and, for my money, she may as well do it in Florence with the Hamptons as in London with us."

Elizabeth looked calmly at her husband, shut her eyes for a moment and opened them again, "Papa?" she said with unconcealed sarcasm.

"I spoke not," said Mr. Bennet idly picking up a book as Elizabeth shook her head and looked fixedly at her husband.

"Mrs. Darcy," he smiled, "your daughter only wants to show off to as many people as possible that she is the heiress of Everingley, and I would rather she did it with Lady Hampton than with you or me. Caroline will indulge her where we would be embarrassed and I trust my cousins, both Fitzwilliam and Sir James, to prevent the thing getting out of control."

"I agree," said Mr. Bennet emphatically, "Is my little Liza going to be one of this party?"

"No," said Elizabeth with little sense of relief, Liza was the child she would most trust anywhere, she had been born with the sense of a thirty year old woman, "she wants to accompany you and mamma on your trip to Winchester."

"Now that is a thought," smiled Mr. Bennet, "your mamma, Winchester and the Bishop's Wife. How should I have borne it without my Liza?"

"Do you think he will ever refer to Mary by name again?" smiled Mr. Darcy as his father-in-law ambled off to begin his preparations for the journey ahead.

"I do not think so," replied Elizabeth with a voice full of smiles, "he has been so very proud since Edward was appointed to Winchester. By the way, my darling, you sound more and more like him every day."

"Like Edward? No, Elizabeth, had I been a clergyman I would have preached very short sermons."

"No," she chided him gently with a kiss, "like Papa and it is quite frightening sometimes. I think his visits have become too much for you."

He laughed, "Promise me you will never become like your mamma?"

"If I ever become like mamma, you must promise to take me to the horse doctor and have me shot!"

"I had that inserted in the marriage papers years ago," he said.

Part 8

At length the day drew to a close and Caroline finally called her carriage and set out for Netherfield. Elizabeth was relieved to see her go, Caroline's presence had quite spoiled her evening and she had been unable to keep her mind on Liza's performance at the pianoforte long enough to appreciate it. Liza was a remarkably talented musician, she played and sang as well as her Aunt Georgiana had at her age and her ability on the newly acquired harp was decidedly impressive. Jennie and Jemima both played but Jennie did not sing and Jemima played only to amuse herself when there were no better amusements to be had. Her performance was pleasing but not capital because she would not take the time to practice.

Jennie and Jemima went upstairs soon after Caroline left leaving their parents to enjoy Liza's playing alone. George was nowhere to be found. He and Henry had plotted assiduously all day furthering their campaign not to go to Italy and were presumably still doing it in some secluded corner. Elizabeth smiled wickedly to herself, there was no question of either going but a little worry would do them good. It would keep George from riding his new horse to an early grave and give Henry something different to complain about. Henry, the possessor of a fine head of reddish-blond hair, complained so volubly that his cousins had re-christened him, "the ginger whinger," which Elizabeth found heartily amusing. She alone knew the nicknames Henry had for the rest of the family having found them solemnly written out on the back of laundry list when Henry had spent a summer at Longbourn a few years ago.

She waited patiently until Liza came to the end of her concerto, if Liza had one fault it was a tendency to show off at her instrument. Of all three Darcy children Liza was the most complete combination of both her parents. She was more spirited than Jennie and more serious than George; she could be passionate but she was nearly always sensible; in everything she was as honourable as her father and as direct as her mother. She had chestnut curls, hazel eyes and creamy skin and in her features favoured her mother although her colouring was certainly got from her Grandmother Bennet. Elizabeth, in short, was very pleased with her namesake. Any child, who at eighteen, combined the sense of Charlotte Lucas with the amiability of Jane and the intelligence of her father could not help but delight her mother.

The concerto finished Elizabeth made her way upstairs to her eldest daughter's rooms. It had been decided when Jemima came home from school that it was unreasonable to expect her to confine herself to one room although Jennie and Liza seemed to do it perfectly well. Jemima opened the door wreathed in smiles and draped in various colours of silk that had been purchased in London and not made up yet.

Elizabeth subdued a sigh - of course, she and Caroline had been discussing clothes.

Why do I always assume she is opening her heart to Caroline when I should know they both find gowns so much more interesting?

"I do not doubt that you are aware of my opposition to this trip," she began, knowing there was no point in engaging in polite preamble with Jemima.

Jemima began folding her silks and said nothing.

"Mima, you know I want you have the best of everything but be careful. Be careful with your heart most of all..."

"I'm not going to do as Aunt Lydia and Aunt Georgie did as soon as they were out of their family's sight," sighed Jemima, "don't you have a higher opinion of me than that?"

"I have the highest opinion of you," said Elizabeth warmly, "but you are very young. I don't want you to make a mistake you will have to live with for the rest of your life... promise me you will be careful. Love is such an unutterably precious thing and nothing but the very deepest love should induce you into matrimony. Oh, Mima, I know I've lectured you a thousand times about improper pride but on this occasion keep your heart too proud for all but the truest love."

Jemima began wrapping the fabric in tissue paper carefully laying a sketch of a gown in with each one.

"What about you and my father, was that the truest and best sort of love?"

"Yes, it was," replied Elizabeth honestly.

"He hadn't been dead very long when you married Mr Darcy."

"Two years and four days to the day," answered Elizabeth, "and I knew Mr Darcy first, dear..."

"Exactly!" cried Jemima, "You knew him first, you loved him first..."

"And I married your father instead of him. Mima, Mr Darcy proposed to me at Hunsford six months before I met your father and I turned him down. He declared his love for me again the following spring but by that time I had met your father and I could think of no-onelse. You must believe me."

"Perhaps," said Jemima slowly, "it all seems so complicated and no one has ever given me quite the same version of events."

Elizabeth's heart sank. She had always intended to talk frankly to Jemima about her relationship with her father but it had never seemed quite the right time but it should have happened before now, before she grew up. She's the age I was when I met Fitzwilliam, she's a woman and I keep seeing a little girl... what is wrong with me? I cannot believe she has asked everyone but me what happened. What have they said, how did it look to Jane, to Georgiana, to Mary... to Caroline?

"Mima," she began, "I am so sorry, darling, you can ask me anything - I should have told you that long ago but somehow I just assumed you knew."

"It doesn't matter," said Jemima quietly, "it was all over twenty years ago because of some stupid war. You are my mother and I love you; Mr Darcy is the only father I've ever known and I love him. I am not a fool, I've watched you both all my life and that has taught me something about love so you needn't fear that I'll run away with the first handsome man who asks me."

Elizabeth's relief was inexpressible. She had spent twenty years being a good mother, a deliberate, conscientious good mother with neither praise nor blame from anyone. It had not helped on occasion to know that her husband had perfect confidence in her when it was never voiced but taken for granted and now, wonder of wonders, here was one of the children actually telling her she had done something right!

"I love you too, darling," she choked looking up into her daughter's sea-grey eyes and marvelling that any face so like her own could be so beautiful and the honey coloured hair that never needed papers.

"I'm glad, mamma. It's just that... I think it is so much more romantic, so much more desirable to come through life hand in hand never having loved anyonelse, like Caroline and Sir James."

"Like Caroline and Sir James?" cried Elizabeth losing all sense of proportion, "Why not Aunt Jane and Bingley? Why not Aunt Kitty and Uncle Richard? Caroline Bingley turned down your father, yes your father, because he was too poor before he inherited Everingley; she spent years trying to trap Mr Darcy and finally only married Sir James because he loved her!"

Jemima froze in her arms for a second and then slowly freed herself, "Mother, that is not necessary. It is not necessary, it is not forgiveable, to justify yourself by judging someonelse so harshly."

She was pale with anger and Elizabeth could barely look at her but forced herself to until the door closed and her footsteps echoed along the passage into silence. She threw herself down on the sofa and wept. Mr Darcy found her there half an hour later still sobbing.

"Elizabeth my love, whatever ails you?"

She sat up and helped herself to his handkerchief as her own had long sinced ceased to serve its purpose.

"I have had another row with Jemima over Caroline. I thought everything was being settled beautifully and then she said something that made me see red and... and I reacted exactly the way my mother would have."

He sighed, "Will I have to have you shot, then?"

"I am not joking, Fitzwilliam, it was a terrible experience. I shrieked at the poor child and even when I was doing it I recognized it - it was my mother's voice coming out of my mouth!"

"Well, I know, try not to let it happen again - I do not think my poor nerves could stand it."

Elizabeth smiled a half smile, "I promise to try. What will I do with Jemima now? Everything I do or say is wrong."

"You will live through it," he replied, "she will grow up and it will all be forgot."

"I cannot help but feel I have failed. Why, oh why, does she prefer Caroline above everyone - above me?"

Mr Darcy turned the ring on his little finger slowly, "I do not know. I do not, however, believe it is because there is anything lacking in you or me. She is searching for something and we have to give her time to find it. Meanwhile gadding about on first name terms with a titled woman old enough to be her mother seems to help."

Elizabeth sat down, "She is impossible! Arrogant, prejudiced, self-satisfied and a hundred other things. She develops unshakeable opinions on everything without any evidence... she..."

He suppressed a smile but not quite fast enough.

"Fitzwilliam, this is not amusing!"

"Elizabeth, my love," he pulled her closer to him, "you were prejudiced at her age. You believed Wickham badly done by with no more evidence than that provided by his demeanour."

"I know but..."

"No buts, Elizabeth. Jemima is more complex than her sisters, she expects more from life and I am not sure how we are going to provide her with it."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, "She is richer and cleverer than her sisters, that is all."

"No," he replied firmly, "there is more to it than that. I love Jennie with my whole heart but let us face it, dearest, she would be content with marrying a good man tomorrow and Elizabeth would be equally content with a good man and a library tomorrow. Jemima... I don't know... if she was a boy I would have expected Oxford or Cambridge to get it out of her system but as we live in a society that precludes us from sending our daughters to university I am at a loss to know quite what to do with her."

"You think allowing her to go to Italy with Caroline is a good idea, then?"

He kissed her gently, "Italy is a good idea. Caroline is irrelevant."

"Excuse me, Fitzwilliam, Caroline is not irrelevant."

"Jemima needs a change of scenery and something new to concentrate on, if she does not have it soon she will either become even closer to Lady Hampton or, worse, accept the first eligible offer that comes along simply in order to leave home."

Elizabeth, who had stood up in sheer indignation at her husband describing Caroline Bingley Hampton as irrelevant, slumped down again.

"Oh, dear God, I had not thought of that...." she buried her face in her hands. "Fitzwilliam, if I had thought motherhood would have been half so complicated I would never have married."

"Well, it is twenty years too late for that," he said smiling, "you must steel yourself to make the best of having four very handsome, intelligent, talented children. I know it is hard, dearest Lizzy, but you must make the effort."

"Do not teaze me," she said smiling back at him, "you do it very ill."

"Then do not put temptation in my way. Jemima will survive six months on the continent with Lady Hampton and it is not as if they will be alone. Jane, Lydia, Fitzwilliam and almost all her cousins will be with her."

"And what of young men? Fortune hunters?"

"Caroline will see them off," he smiled, "she may not like you and her regard for me has become altogether more cousinly but she is as soliticious for the good of the Darcy family as anyone could be and she will not permit Jemima to make a foolish match. And, as you keep telling me, she values Caroline's opinion above yours or mine."

Part 9

The plans were soon made. Henry Bingley and George Darcy would stay with Kitty at Kympton while everyonelse made their annual visit to Longbourn and the Bingleys would go on with the young people to London which would be the first stage of their journey to the continent. Mr Bingley, after a good deal of wriggling and fussing, had contrived to excuse himself from going to Italy. He was sure Kitty could not cope with Henry and George, it was therefore, his duty to remain in Derbyshire with them.

A few friends gathered at Pemberley on the evening before they were due to leave. Jemima was, as usual, the centre of attention. She had not noticed her cousin Frederick Bingley was madly in love with her although Lady Hampton had and found it a constant source of annoyance. Jemima Dashwood with all her claims to beauty and brilliance could not possibly throw herself away at twenty on such a silly boy.

Her gaze shifted slowly around the room watching the various young people who were infinitely more interesting than their parents. Caroline Hampton and Elizabeth Darcy had never been friends and could never hope to be but both had the same sort of interest in the fancies and foibles of their friends and neighbours. However, where Elizabeth's tended towards only harmless amusement for herself and her friends, Caroline's was altogether more utilitarian - she usually had something to hope for or gain from her observations. On this evening, though, her interest was purely the result of boredom. She could not imagine how she had ever longed to be mistress of this place; Marcombe Court, her own house in Somersetshire, bored her too. London, and only London, satisfied her idea of a place to live.

Next to Frederick whom many thought particularly fortunate as he favoured his mother in looks and his father in temperament was Charles. Charles was a milksop in Caroline's eyes. Henry was too sharp for his own good, she could see him - if she strained a little - standing on the terrace rolling a cigarette. He looked four years older than he actually was. George Darcy was also on the terrace talking to a well-dressed older man she could not easily place but as he turned to enter the room she recognized Mr Stephen Leigh, owner of Derwent Valley, a very fine estate that bordered Pemberley and straddled the boundary between Derbyshire and Cumbria. She smiled to herself having always had an eye for a tall, handsome man. Mr Leigh was indeed handsome - tall and dark with green eyes and the beginnings of delicious laughter lines around his mouth. He bore a slight resemblance to both Mr Darcy and Sir James in their middle-thirties but unlike those gentlemen there had never been the faintest hint of arrogance about him.

She sighed and followed the sound of a small, ladylike commotion at the pianforte. Jennie Darcy had suggested a dance and the idea had been taken up with some enthusiasm by her fellows but none of them wanted to play and Mrs Darcy was being persuaded to take her seat at the instrument. Caroline chuckled and gave into the impulse to ask Mr Darcy to dance; she knew full well it was unladylike but twenty odd years of marriage to Sir James Hampton had found her doing things Miss Bingley would never have dreamed of.

"Caroline is actually asking Mr Darcy to dance," whispered Jane as Elizabeth sorted out the music.

"I know," she replied, "she must think it will vex me to see them together but really it only provides Fitzwilliam with the assurance that he made the right decision in marrying me."

Jane laughed and moved out of the way as Charles led one his cousins to the dance.

"Do you think any of the children will marry eachother?" she said suddenly.

"I am not sure..." said Elizabeth doubtfully. The subject had never been discussed between them - Lady Catherine's plan for Anne de Bourgh to marry Mr Darcy had caused so much unhappiness in the family that she had never wanted to indulge in similar ambitions for any of her children.

"Given that I have three very handsome sons and you have three very handsome daughters I am sure you will forgive me for indulging some dreams of my own," smiled Jane.

"I have a son, too," remarked Kitty petulantly, "as has Mary."

"Indeed," Elizabeth smiled and removed her gloves. Mary's son, Jeremy, was rather dashing considering his parentage but Edward was solemn and elderly at the age of eighteen and a less likely character to attract one of her girls she could not imagine. He had been doted upon by both parents and brought into an early prominence which had added the defect of vanity to an already weak mind.

"Charles certainly seems fond of Richelda," said Kitty to Jane as Elizabeth began to play. Jane smiled and followed Kitty's gaze to where the young couple were dancing, she did not object to Richelda for a daughter-in-law but had already settled it in her heart that Frederick would marry Jemima and she did not want two of her children marrying within the family.

Elizabeth had suspected for a long time that Frederick had a partiality towards Jemima and now realized that his mother was equally partial. She sighed inwardly as her hands moved automatically over the keys - Mima was too headstrong for Frederick and would make him miserable. Unfortunately he threatened to be miserable whether she married him or not and his only hope seemed to be in falling in love with someonelse. She looked around the room for Jemima and saw her speaking to Mr Leigh. She liked Stephen Leigh very much; he was handsome, honourable and the owner of some beautiful countryside but she did not want Jemima attaching herself to a man fourteen years her senior. On reflection the trip to Italy was looking more and more like a good idea.

"I had heard," Mr Leigh was saying, "that Sir James and Lady Hampton were taking you to Italy but now I learn it is almost the whole family."

Jemima scowled; she was aware that her mother would never have let her go alone with Caroline but that did not make the idea of a family trip any sweeter.

"Come, come, Jem, that is a dreadful face to pull."

"I am not pulling a face," she replied indignantly, "and what difference does it make to you how many of us go to Italy? You will not be one of the party, I hope."

He laughed, "No, the blackmail or bribery that would induce me to travel with Lady Hampton does not exist."

"I see. You share my mother's opinion of my friend."

"Your mother is not wrong, Jemima. You should have friends your own age and you do not. What has happened to the pleasant girls you used to bring home from school - Melissa Morton and what was her name... Helen Woodhouse?"

"I am sorry to disappoint you, sir, but Helen Woodhouse is already married. She married Mr David Montgomery at Easter but Melissa is still available if you are interested."

He looked rather cross for a moment. "Jemima, I am not looking for a wife and if I was I would choose a sensible woman my own age. I am talking about you and your obstinate refusal to make friends with girls your own age."

"I know none."

"That is arrant nonsense! You know all the daughters of the gentry and aristocracy for four counties. What of Eleanor Thirlwood or Margaret Spencer or Lady Dorothea Andrewes?"

"They are all empty-headed husband-hunting butterflies. What would I talk to them about?"

"What do you think Caroline Bingley was like at twenty?"

Jemima sighed, "I really have no way of knowing, Mr Leigh, but I expect you are about to tell me you happened to be home from Eton one summer and met her in your aunt's house or somewhere and she was every bit as frivolous as Margaret Spencer?"

It was Mr Leigh's turn to sigh, "No, no, no. I was merely trying to point out that it is natural for girls of twenty to be interested in husbands."

Jemima smiled and was conscious of looking like one of Caroline's cats, "Your sisters are not obviously out to catch husbands, I have never heard it said of Miss Diana or Miss Ursula that they were attempting to snare anyone and I have heard it of every other young woman of my acquaintance."

"I wish Diana and Ursula lived with me," he replied seriously, "their sister means well but she forgets that she has been married and now chooses to remain a widow while under her care Diana and Ursula will never have the choice."

"Indeed, they do not go out much," sighed Jemima. "Now, Mr Leigh, I do not wish to quarrel with you as you are my oldest friend - see we have been on speaking terms for seventeen years so you cannot accuse me of being unable to make and keep friends - so if you persuade your sisters to come to this country I promise to befriend them both and find them husbands!"

He bowed. "You are too good."

"I am entirely serious, sir. Meanwhile allow me to look forward to Italy with all the anticipation it deserves."

"I would in no way suspend any pleasure of yours. Tell me, are Anne Dashwood and Emma Middleton to be of your party?"

"I believe my cousin Anne has been invited but I do not recall hearing anyone mention Miss Middleton."

"Those are two young women I should like to see you know better."

"Mr Leigh, you are doing it again!"

"Miss Middleton ought to be included as she is Lady Hampton's god-daughter. I am surprised at your mother not making sure of it, she is always so fond and so careful of Miss Middleton."

"Yes, she is," replied Jemima emphatically, "but I can only say I have not heard of any plan to include her. She will probably remain at Dovedale with the Countess."

"She really should accompany you," he continued, "Lady Hampton owes her that much. I find it hard to understand why she is so cool towards her. If anyone should have been expected to take her in when her parents died it was the Hamptons, she should never have been left to her other godmother; the Countess is in indifferent health and has no experience of young girls."

"Mamma nearly brought her here," replied Jemima, "but Papa said Aunt Anne should have her as there was already a spiritual commitment and she could give her the undivided attention that Mamma could not. Indeed, I believe she has been a great comfort to the Countess since her mother died. I wish she was more like her mother!"

"I cannot say," he answered, "I never met Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

"She was a wonderful woman," replied Jemima.

"I am surprised at her taking such a liking to you when she did not like your mother."

"I do not really know why she did not like Mamma but I believe she grew to like her more towards the end, especially after George was born."

"Why are you so dismissive of Emma Middleton as a potential friend?"

"I am not looking for a friend and if I was I would choose a thoroughly interesting woman my own age. Emma Middleton is only seventeen and never has a word to say for herself; I declare I have sat with her for more than an hour on more than one occasion and making conversation was like drawing teeth."

"She has not had the easiest of lives, Jemima, she lost both her parents when she was twelve and at least one of her godmothers has been no help to her. And, much as it pains me to admit it, her mother was not as attentive as she could have been when she was alive; neither of my cousins were cut out for parenthood."

Oh, Lord - I keep forgetting you are related to the little ninny!

Mr Leigh soon realized that he had overspent his time lecturing Jemima on friendship and responsibility; she had a remarkably short concentration span where subjects of duty were concerned and with a reluctant heart he gave her back into the society of Mrs Hurst.

Part 10

Jemima made a point of immediately ascertaining from Lady Hampton that nothing crucial was at stake in America.

"Lord, no!" exclaimed Caroline, "If your stepfather and my husband cannot be wealthy by managing Pemberley and Marcombe properly then we are in a sorry state indeed. Do not ask me about the American investments for I have never made it my business to interfere with money."

Except in the spending of it, thought Jemima.

"So why has Sir James gone off in such haste?"

Caroline yawned and glared, "Oh, I daresay some old dairymaid's annuity depends on it or something of that, you know what he is like."

Comforted somewhat by the assurance that she would not need to contribute to her sisters' dowries or choose between living with Grandmother Bennet or in the hedgerows Jemima settled down to a list of the gowns that would have to be made up in London. Lady Hampton reprimanded her a few times for considering having anything made in Lambton or even Derby and in this pleasant manner the afternoon passed.

On the day before they were due to leave for Longbourn Jemima and Elizabeth drove to Kympton to collect Richelda. It had occured to both of them that when Kitty worked out that Richelda was going to have a rather better summer than Edward she might decide the girl was necessary at home.

"She cannot bear to see Richelda enjoy herself," remarked Jemima.

"It has always been a source of distress to me," replied Elizabeth, "but Kitty is determined to keep her plain and backward."

"She is worth much more than Edward!" cried Jemima who, although not particularly fond of Richelda, preferred her above her dull brother.

They found Richelda waiting in the garden but Kitty had the window open and was exhorting her to remember her good fortune, write often and not put herself forward.

"You will have a mighty fine time, Miss," she remarked sourly, "be sure and deserve it, do not run around and misbehave as you are accustomed to do at home."

"No, ma'am," responded Richelda. Elizabeth stifled a smile. When had the poor child ever been allowed to run around?

"And write to me every day, I shall depend on hearing from you very often. You will not be of much consequence to your Aunt or Lady Hampton so you will have plenty of time for writing."

"Richelda is of as much consequence as any of us," said Jemima angrily.

Kitty ignored her; she never paid much attention to anyone and Jemima was her least favourite niece.

"And keep out of the sun, your looks will never improve if you get freckles. Wear a hat and use Gowlands every day. And do not expect to dance with your cousins all the time, I am sure they will not appreciate you mooning about them like a lovesick calf. Oh, and I expect you to write often to your brother - it is he who deserves such a treat working so hard as he does all term...."

Here we go, thought Elizabeth. "Kitty, we cannot wait, there is yet much to do at Pemberley."

Kitty looked astonished, "I would have thought you kept enough servants, Lizzy. Well, I am sure you will all have a good time without me. Jane and Lydia will be in Italy, you will be in Norway - oh, I am sure you will all have a mighty fine time and I will be left here alone with your boys."

Elizabeth winced but was rescued from Kitty's further self-pity by the arrival of Reverend Owen.

"Goodbye, papa," said Richelda, who was really anxious to leave.

"Goodbye, my dear," he replied with a kiss, "be a good girl, write when you have time, and I look forward to seeing your paintings when you return."

Richelda smiled her first smile of the day and Elizabeth wished for the thousandth time Kitty had learned to be more like her husband. They had almost got out the door as Kitty, having repeated herself several times, had reached the end of her speeches when they were prevented by the sound of a carriage.

"Edward," murmured Richelda almost soundlessly. She sighed heavily and Elizabeth thought she must be near to tears; she glanced at Jemima who shrugged her shoulders and sat down. There was no escape now for at least an hour. Edward was hustled through the door by his doting mamma who lost no time in extolling his freshly remembered virtues to his sister, aunt and cousin. Dr Owen followed full of smiles and ordered refreshments. Elizabeth steeled herself for an exhibition of grovelling not seen since the old days when Mr Collins took tea at Rosings.

"Edward, my love, how was your journey? How is college? Did you do well in Latin? He did so well at school," she said in an aside to Elizabeth, "how was Greek? Oh, you look tired, my darling, give me your coat. Say hello to your sister and Jemima."

Edward nodded respectfully at the two Pemberley ladies and cast a sour look on his sister. Kitty continued to fuss and coddle him until Elizabeth could bear it no longer and dragged Richelda and Jemima outside with the minimum of courtesy. The coachman had turned the carriage and they had almost escaped when Kitty stuck her head out the window and demanded that Richelda come back in and spend the summer with her brother!

"Drive on, Thomas," said Elizabeth through her teeth. Thomas drove on. Richelda cried. Jemima waved and threw kisses at Kitty until they were well out of sight of the house.

Kitty was livid. She had always suspected Elizabeth of encouraging Richelda to think too highly of herself and there was proof.

"I am too ill to cope with George Darcy and Henry Bingley," she sighed to her husband as the carriage disappeared.

"Too late, Catherine, my love," he replied, "we said we would have them and we must."

"I like George and Henry," said Edward suddenly. Kitty glowered at him; that was all he needed. Henry Bingley would teach him to smoke and George Darcy's sense of humour was more than her poor, suffering nerves could take.

"I fancy a change of air myself," she smiled, "what say you we take George and Henry to York and go on ourselves, just the three of us, to Whitby?"

Dr Owen was all for the idea and Edward, although they doted on him, was never consulted in anything of importance. He would rather have had access to Pemberley's library for the vacation but did not know how to request it. He did, however, know that Henry Bingley would take a visit to York as a declaration of war against his mother.

Part 11

The party for the south set out the next day. George and Henry waved goodbye from the steps of Pemberley quite unaware of the treat Aunt Kitty...kitty had in store for them and for a few hours at least it was the perfect day.

The Bingleys and Darcys parted from the Hamptons at Stevenage. Jemima, who had contrived the whole journey from the north to be allowed to continue with Lady Hampton to London was most disappointed when her mother insisted she accompany the rest of the family to Longbourn.

No sooner had they settled there than Mr Bingley rode over to Netherfield to meet the new owners. He had always made it a point to retain familiarity with the place that had brought him to Hertfordshire and his dear Jane and on this occasion he took his father-in-law and two sons with him. Mrs Bingley and Mrs Darcy took Liza, Jennie and Richelda into Meryton to visit Aunt Phillips who was laid up with the gout and unable to come to Longbourn; on the way home they would collect Olivia Collins from her grandparents at Lucas Lodge. This plethora of visiting left Mr Darcy, Miss Dashwood and Mrs Bennet alone at Longbourn. It was not long, however, before Mr Darcy had cause to regret not finding something of his own to do.

"How is Pemberley, Mr Darcy? You must tell me all about it." said Mrs Bennet effusively.

"Pemberley is as lovely as ever, ma'am. I am sure Mr Bennet will tell you everything on your journey to Winchester."

I am sure he will not! thought Jemima with great amusement.

"And are you no nearer to finding husbands for the girls than you were last time I saw you?"

"They are still full young to be married, ma'am."

"She is more than old enough!" cried Mrs Bennet indicating Jemima.

"She is not yet one-and-twenty. "

"That is more than old enough, Mr Darcy, I assure you," protested Mrs Bennet. "You cannot leave it too late."

He smiled, "With her pretty face she will never be short of admirers. I will just take a turn in the shrubbery, if you do not mind."

"Of course not," she said, "Jemima will stay and keep me company, won't you, my dear?"

Jemima had no choice but to stay in the parlour with Mrs Bennet while her stepfather enjoyed the comparative freedom of the garden although Mrs Bennet often got up and called out to him the dangers of walking too long in damp weather.

"I trust everyone at Pemberley is in good health?"

"Perfectly so, ma'am. Indeed, I have never seen so many healthy people in my life. As you see Papa, Mamma, Jennie, Liza and me are all amazingly healthy. And George was so healthy we dared not bring him lest he terrify the respectable denizens of Hertfordshire with his rumbustiousness. All the servants are remarkably healthy too, I am sure."

"Really?" said Mrs Bennet, "Well, I am glad to hear it. And how are they at Ladywell Abbey? I know I have asked Mrs Bingley already but you will indulge an old lady and tell me again?"

"Oh, they are all as healthy as it is possible to imagine. Uncle Bingley and the older boys you have seen for yourself and little Henry is as healthy as a monkey, indeed he positively lives up trees these days."

Mrs Bennet's face darkened, "Lives up a tree? That cannot be good for him, what is my daughter thinking of?"

"They are very well at Kympton too, ma'am, now that Edward is home for the Long Vacation."

Mrs Bennet's expression softened. Edward was undoubtedly her favourite grandchild. She asked minutely after him but Jemima had no new information to give and was soon forced to promise Mrs Bennet that both Kitty and Dr Owen were in remarkably good health.

"Dear Dr Owen, I admit I do not like him as well as his brother, Edward. Edward has always been my favourite son-in-law, well, next to Bingley for he was my first you know; although to be exact Mr Wickham was my first son-in-law but no-one thinks of him now... yes, Edward is a very dear man and we have all been so excited since he became Bishop of Winchester. Who would have thought Mary would become so important? Why, it is almost as good as being Mistress of Pemberley and the Bishop's Palace at Winchester quite puts Pemberley in the shade... but, as I was saying.... I do like dear Dr Owen, his sermons are not as long as his brother's but they always put me in mind of the love of God."

"That passeth all understanding," smiled Jemima.

"That's right, dear," Mrs Bennet patted her hand, "and why are you not married? I knew Lizzy would be lax on such matters, you should be married by now. I was married at your age to your dear grandfather, and Lady Lucas was married by your age. Of course, she was far too slow at getting Charlotte off her hands and Maria Lucas is at home to this day but I always told her not to expect another Mr Collins and she would not listen. Never mind, my dear, I am sure you will enjoy your trip to Winchester this summer but I am afraid it is a poor place for beaux but you will like your Uncle Edward's episcopal sermons, I am sure."

"Not unless they are much shorter than they used to be...."

"What did you say, dear?"

"I said, this is very nice shortbread."

"Well, that is because I keep a good cook, dear."

"Did you not bake it yourself?"

"Jemima!" Mr Darcy's voice was unmistakable through the French window, "Excuse me, Grandmamma, my Papa wants me."

She stepped outside, "Yes, Papa?"

"You are going too far. She may be narrow-minded, foolish and a little deaf but she is your grandmother."

"She is rambling all over the place, how much longer must I sit with her?"

"Until your mother or someonelse returns for I cannot bear her."

"Oh, mightn't I talk to you instead?"

"No, I am not old enough. When I am old and I have an ear-trumpet which I can conveniently lose under my muffler or whatever then you may talk to me as much as you please, however, while I retain full use of my faculties I would rather you entertained your grandmother."

Jemima returned to the parlour and flopped down on the sofa.

"Don't lollop, dear," said Mrs Bennet, her mouth full of shortbread.

Now I see where Aunt Kitty gets it from.

"I am not going to Winchester, Grandmamma; I am going to Florence with Lady Hampton."

"Not going to Winchester?" Mrs Bennet was all astonishment. "And where, pray, is Florence?"

"It's a town in the north of Italy, Grandmamma. Very old and famous."

"I am sure Winchester is every bit as old and famous," replied Mrs Bennet resentfully. "You will get very few beaux over there, I assure you."

"I do not want very many, ma'am. I think I would be quite content with two."

"Really? A thoroughly sensible young woman wants as many beaux as possible so that she might choose the best husband from amongst them."

"I only want two husbands, Grandmamma. One for Sundays and one for ordinary days."

"What are you saying, dear? I do not quite make you out."

"Jemima!"

"Yes, Papa...."

And so it went on until Mrs Darcy and Mrs Bingley returned and by that time Mr Darcy was not sure who was being rescued from Jemima: himself or Mrs Bennet.

The remainder of their week at Longbourn passed very pleasantly. Jane visited Netherfield, her first married home, and was delighted with the present mistress and her additions and alterations to the old place. Elizabeth and Charlotte Collins walked for miles and imagined themselves girls again. Mr Darcy avoided his mother-in-law as much as possible while yet retaining her good opinion, an ability which Mr Bingley very much envied.

Jemima found little to entertain her. She had long since exhausted the few amusements Meryton had to offer; she had been shown the old assembly rooms where her mother first met Mr Darcy and the famous milliner's shop and Grandfather Gardiner's old offices umpteen times. She had nothing to say on a visit to Aunt Phillips and less on a visit to Lucas Lodge. Her sisters bored her and her cousins still more; an afternoon with Jennie, Liza, Richelda and Olivia was the greatest of punishments and, because her mother had not taught her to ride, an afternoon with Frederick and Charles was out of the question. She spent the time she was not required by her mother, aunt or grandmother in writing long letters to Lady Hampton, the only person she knew who felt about Hertfordshire the way she did. Finally, however, they set out on the next stage of their journey. Mr and Mrs Bennet were the first to leave for Winchester and took Liza with them. Mr and Mrs Darcy left next to return to Derbyshire and relieve Kitty of the boys who were, no doubt, plaguing her poor nerves. Mr Bingley remained to escort his wife, sons and nieces to London where they would stay with the Hamptons before meeting up with the Fitzwilliams in Dover.

Lady Hampton's house was everything a London house should be. It combined elegance and comfort with real modernity and Jemima revelled in it. Her parents' London house was, as she put it, "all cut glass and no comfort." It was as if they did not expect or want to be relaxed in London and kept their house in such a fashion as to remind them that home was in Derbyshire.

She settled happily into the second best guest bedroom. It was always her room when she visited Wimpole Street and Caroline had not only redecorated it in the blues and lilacs her young friend liked and filled it with flowers. There was no question of Jemima sharing a room; not only was she the eldest of the four girls but as Caroline's protege and confidante it would be inconvenient to have any of the younger girls about. Jennie and Richelda had the yellow room along the corridor and Olivia Collins, because Caroline felt sorry for her, was treated to the orange room upstairs.

Jane Bingley would have preferred to stay with General and Mrs Dashwood but had been unable to think of an excuse quickly enough to satisfy her sister-in-law when the idea of them all staying at Portland Place had first been suggested. She consoled herself, however, with the promise of the Duchess of Moray's ball and all the delights of showing off her three very pretty nieces in London society. Her mind fluttered over memories of the ball at Netherfield so many years ago - it would forever remain her standard of what a really good ball should be. Of course, the dances had long since changed, there would be no hope of finding Mr Beveridge's Maggot on the music stands that night. The evening came at last. Jennie had dressed in a exquisite light rose pink; Olivia Collins was in primrose and Richelda, coerced by her mother, appeared in white. Jane viewed them with extreme satisfaction; she had got over her regret at having no daughters of her own and could not be happier at chaperoning the daughters of her sisters and friend into society. She waited anxiously for Jemima.

She emerged finally in a gown of palest sea-green silk embroidered with gold which, although exquisite in itself, was too decollete and too far off the shoulder. Jane knew perfectly well that at Pemberley Mr Darcy would have sent her straight back upstairs to change regardless of the inconvenience to rest of the party, she also knew she did not have the courage to make a similar demand. The tourmalines in delicate gold settings that glittered at her throat and wrists were obviously a present from Lady Hampton which put her seal of approval on the gown. Jane, unwilling to have an argument with Caroline, pretended not to notice and justified it to herself by recalling that Jemima was not in her first season and the Darcy pride was too much in evidence to be thwarted by anyone but a Darcy. Sir James, although his mother had been a Darcy, hardly qualified.

"I hope you will all save a dance for me," he announced as he led the way to the carriages.

Jennie and Richelda giggled as Jane swept them into the Bingley's carriage ahead of her, "You join us, Sir James," she smiled, "Mr Bingley will travel with his sister."

Jemima smiled archly as Sir James helped Mrs Bingley join the girls, "I will not be dancing with you, Sir James, you trod on my foot last time."

"I did no such thing," he protested laughing, "I never tread on ladies feet."

Jemima looked at Caroline, "He did," she insisted, "it hurt for a month!"

"Of course he did, my dear," replied Lady Hampton, "but there is a cure for it as I discovered shortly after my marriage... stand on his feet first and then he is more careful where he puts them!"

The journey to the Duchess's home was accomplished quickly and happily. Mr Bingley was delightful company for a short distance and Olivia Collins far too shy to say a word.

"I do wish dear Emmeline would limit her invitation list," murmured Lady Hampton as they battled their way through the crush of carriages and people at the door, "sometimes I wonder if she isn't selling tickets at Petticoat Lane."

Olivia gaped in wonderment - first name terms with a Duchess - how impressed her father would be with that! Jemima merely smiled and was glad that Caroline had somehow contrived to get their carriage to the door, there were dozens of them well across the road and ladies in sumptuous gowns negotiating cobblestones where the horses had been.

Georgiana had arrived with her husband and daughter a little earlier and was keeping an anxious lookout for the rest of her family; it seemed such a long time since they had all been together and she was missing Elizabeth dreadfully in anticipation of her not being there. Anne Dashwood, having inherited her mother's sweet prettiness and her father's cheerful temper, was a great favourite with her whole family. Jennie and Richelda regarded her as a pattern to model themselves on and Frederick Bingley was a fair way to being in love with her if Jemima would not have him. Jane Bingley, for her part, knew that had she a daughter she would want one just like Anne. Jemima, however, while having a genuine affection for both her aunt and cousin, regarded Anne in her heart as a ninny who badly needed a fire-cracker lit beneath her.

"When I have my townhouse I shall model it on this," she whispered to Olivia as they worked their way down the line of people to greet. Olivia continued to gape; she had never imagined so many miles of mirrors and gilding. "It was based on the ballroom in a palace in St Petersburg," continued Jemima, "don't you just long to see Russia?"

As Olivia had never entertained the thought of seeing Russia she had nothing to say but Richelda managed to remark that she would just like a townhouse with or without a ballroom. Her mother, along with Mrs Darcy and Mrs Collins, had impressed upon the girls that this was a night in which husbands were caught and hearts broken and she was determined to be as sensible as possible from the very start. Of course, their mothers might as well have saved their breath to cool their porridge. Jemima was determined to break as many hearts as possible; Olivia had decided upon the companion of her future life at nine and the younger girls could think of nothing but having a partner for every dance.

Part 12

"Look, Caroline, Anne is dancing with that officer again!"

Lady Hampton shook out her fan to hide a smile, "Yes, indeed, I was just about to observe as much myself."

Jemima opened her fan and smiled the smile she and Lady Hampton shared. "She is very taken with him, do you agree?"

"They are very taken with eachother." Lady Hampton purred, "Note the little familiarities, my dear."

Jemima noted straightaway; she never needed anything told or explained twice.

"Oh, yes, I see. The way he holds her hand, the way she looks at him... her smile, oh, that is not the smile of a new acquaintance! Anne would never be so careless."

"She is in love."

"With whom?" Jemima lowered her fan and closed it with a flick of the wrist; it clicked satisfactorily and reminded her of dear Aunt Catherine de Bourgh.

Caroline raised her eyebrows a little, "Therein lies your entertainment for the rest of the evening, dearest. Now, do me a very great favour and dance with my husband for I must away to talk to Lady Hermiston and I do not want Sir James accidentally overhearing anything."

Jemima sought out Sir James and rapped him on the shoulder with her fan, another useful mannerism adopted from the late Lady Catherine.

"Your wife charges me to dance with you, sir, as she is engaged on more pressing business."

Sir James, used to the charming improprieties of his wife and her young friend, led her on to the dance floor with a smile.

"You must be having a most tedious evening if you are reduced to dancing with an old bore like me."

Jemima sighed, "Indeed, Sir James, but there are not enough partners as charming as my cousin Anne's to go around."

Sir James glanced over her shoulder, "Oh, you mean Lt. William Morland?"

"Morland? I wonder if he is any relation to our curate."

"Yes, he may be, I believe his family is from Derbyshire but officer or not he is not much of a catch."

"Really, Sir James? Oh, I do not believe you, he seems so attentive and pleasing."

"I did not say he was not a decent fellow but he has no money and only a very little land, infact he is barely a gentleman at all."

Really? Oh, Cousin Anne, with all your graciousness and propriety you do surprise me!

The dance conveniently ended and Jemima worked her way back to her friend and chaperone.

"Delicious, my dear Lady Hampton, delicious."

Caroline sniggered, "And you obtained delicious information from Sir James? I congratulate you, it is more than I have been able to achieve in twenty years of marriage."

"Certainly. His name is William Morland, he has no money and only a very little land."

Lady Hampton's eyes sought out Mrs Dashwood, "Now Georgiana," she said almost to herself, "we will see how far you will be influenced by our dear egalitarian Elizabeth and how much by sense and propriety."

Jemima's gaze followed her friends to where her aunt stood by the fireplace engaged with several other ladies in an apparently fascinating discussion.

"What do you suppose they are discussing?"

"Something frightfully important, dearest. Did the atheists get routed at the last meeting of the Philosophical Society?" She finished with a sarcastic laugh.

Jemima raised her eyebrows, "Dear Aunt Georgie, she will soon have something real to occupy her mind! If Jennie brought Lt Morland home to Pemberley Mamma would let her have him but the General....oh, I doubt it."

Caroline's smiled broadened, "Imagine General Dashwood's reaction... it could only be bettered were he a sergeant..."

Jemima opened out her fan and laughed heartily, "but as there are none to be had we must content ourselves with a lieutenant!"

After a few dances Elizabeth exchanged places at the piano with Miss Guest. Miss Guest had been her personal maid for over fifteen years and was invited to all the family events, even if outsiders thought it a little odd. She wandered over to where Lady Hampton stood with her brother, Mr Bingley had a way of making a conversation with Caroline more palatable.

"Have you an itinerary planned?" she enquired with more good humour than she had been aware of feeling.

"Yes," replied Lady Hampton, "I have been planning this trip for quite some time. I have changed a few things, of course, to accommodate such a large party of young people and Charles's health, of course."

Elizabeth smiled politely. She had the uncanny feeling that Caroline's opinion of Charles's health coincided with her own where the application of a large boot to the seat of the britches was concerned. However, it was a remedy that could not be suggested to either parent and she contented herself with remarking that some of the stops Jemima had mentioned sounded very picturesque.

Lady Hampton smiled back with equal politeness, for years she had measured out the civility Mrs Darcy had shown her and given it back again in exact quantities. She ran through a few more place-names in France and Switzerland and finished by describing an inn she and Sir James had stayed in a few years earlier.

"It will be our last stop before the Passo del Sempione, the Simplon Pass, that is, and Italy," she said.

Elizabeth wondered briefly if Lady Hampton really thought she did not realize that passo meant pass but quickly attributed it to a finely honed ability to be offensive.

"Imagine, Mrs Darcy," continued Caroline, as if she had never questioned her companion's ability in the most elementary Italian, "the scene from the southern slopes of the alps - compared to northern Europe it must look like the Garden of Eden; the temperature is almost mediterranean, the lakes are as blue as cornflowers with gardens of figs, lemons and oleanders along their shores..."

Elizabeth sighed imperceptibly. How strange that Caroline who cannot endure more than a month in a country house should have such an eye for the beauties of nature!

"Unfortunately," she referred back to her little paper, "my plans go askew at Lago di Como - we had planned on staying at a perfectly charming little pensioné in the town of Como but while it more than suited Sir James and myself it is not nearly large enough for our entire group."

"Excuse me, ladies," Mr Leigh's voice interupted them, "I would be delighted to offer you the Villa Loretta at Bellagio for the length of your stay. Would that be acceptable to you, Lady Hampton?"

"You own a villa on Lago di Como?" purred Caroline, "You amaze me, Mr Leigh."

"It belonged to my cousin, Andrew Middleton," he explained awkwardly, "he bought it for his wife the winter she died and I have never quite had the heart to sell it."

Both Elizabeth and Caroline fell silent. Susannah Middleton had been the nearest thing they had possessed to a mutual friend; an old schoolfriend of Caroline's whose daughter, Emma, was her godchild. In the year before her death she had made friends with Mrs Darcy and Lady Hampton had thrown her over altogether. Andrew Middleton was killed in a hunting accident shortly after his wife and Emma had gone to live with her other godmother, the Countess of Dovedale, formerly Anne de Bourgh. Caroline had not bothered much about the little girl who had grown up closer to Elizabeth than either godmother but her affection for Jemima dated from the time she believed Elizabeth to have conspired with Mrs Middleton against her.

Poor Jemima - she needed someone to comfort her on the death of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, thought Caroline as the events surrounding Susannah's death filtered back through her memory, and her dear mamma was too busy with someonelse's daughter at the time...

She emerged from her thoughts to hear Elizabeth quizzing Mr Leigh about the villa, its size, its situation and so forth. Of course, she could afford to be prosaic about Susannah Middleton's death; she had nursed her, she had been with her at the last. Caroline had been sampling the delights of the Season. She narrowed her eyes and viewed Elizabeth darkly through her lashes. Was the woman going to go through life doing everything exactly right?

"I believe Bellagio is known as 'the pearl of the lake,' am I correct?" Elizabeth was addressing Mr Leigh with her usual mixture of seriousness and charm.

"Yes, it is," he replied, "I have heard it called the prettiest village in Europe."

Caroline was forced to concur. A sight prettier than Marcombe, she thought, although she would never say so to Sir James.

"It is on the punta spartivento, which is translated as the point that divides the winds," she added.

Elizabeth smiled again, "It sounds so lovely, you almost tempt me to accompany you."

"You would not regret it," said Mr Leigh.

Caroline cringed, Accompany us?

"However, it seems I am engaged to take my husband on a visit to Norway this summer," she replied twinkling, "we so love the idea of the fjords and mountains - it is almost our idea of heaven."

"I am impressed," said Mr Leigh, "an unusual destination indeed."

Please, no one mention alps, prayed Lady Hampton. Her prayer was answered. Mr Leigh did not think to recommend the alps to Mrs Darcy as a nearer alternative to the mountains of Norway and Mr Bingley whisked her off to dance before she had a chance to think of them for herself.

Chapter 13

Jemima was busily supervising the last of her packing the next morning when the sound of a carriage outside disturbed her. It was sure to be more neighbours coming to wish them bon voyage and she had no wish to see any of them.

"Remember to pack as I taught you, Bella," she said sharply as left the room, "there is only one correct way to fold a gown."

Jemima's room was in the main part of the house and the landing outside her doorway afforded an excellent view over the central staircase. She stood concealed in one of the decorative alcoves and waited to see who the butler would usher in; the alcove had previously contained a statue of Hebe, the goddess of youth, but Jemima had removed her having other uses for the space.

Oh, heavens, Aunt Anne and Emma Middleton! There will be no escaping them but I daresay I can put off going down until all the kissing is done with.

She leaned against the alcove wall and waited. First round of 'dearest Anne' and kisses, that must be Mamma; now Jennie, now Liza. Wait a minute - that's Mamma offering tea and sending Josie to find me... right... they should be sitting in the drawing room now.

"Mrs Darcy asks for you to join her in the morning room, Miss Dashwood," said Josie with a bob.

Jemima smiled and nodded. It amazed her that Josie could curtsey on the stairs without unbalancing; what a pity the servants didn't learn to dance.

The Countess of Dovedale was seated by the fire which Elizabeth was exhorting the footman to stoke up for fear she would catch cold. She was a pretty little woman with brown hair and brown eyes favouring the Fitzwilliam side of the family rather than the de Bourghs and beside her on a footstool sat her god-daughter. Emma Middleton was a small, slender, wax-skinned beauty; her coal black hair was piled up on the back of her head with cascades of ringlets on either side, a style which Jemima detested and was yet becoming very fashionable. She looked up and smiled demurely as Jemima entered.

"Aunt Anne, how nice to see you. Miss Middleton, you do look well."

You look like a nun in a mortuary; I hope the style does not become de rigeur.

"Mamma... Jemima... I have had the most wonderful idea!" Jennie's eyes were gleaming with a light that Jemima had learned to recognize as sheer charity.

I can imagine what you're going to suggest, sister, and after my conversation with Mr Leigh last night it should be me. Oh, it's hard being related to an angel!

Miss Reynolds came in with the tea and for a moment Jennie's idea was forgotten amidst the arranging of cups and plates. Miss Reynolds would never let anyonelse serve the Countess of Dovedale, it gave her something to tell her aunt of when she visited her at weekends. Grace Reynolds had taken over as housekeeper of Pemberley from her aunt fifteen years ago but the old lady was still anxious for all the news of the house and family she could possibly get.

The moment arrived, however, and Jennie began to petition her mother to invite Emma to Italy as well.

"It is Lady Hampton's trip, not mine, dearest," replied Elizabeth who was almost certain that Anne would not permit it.

"Lady Hampton was willing that Liza should come," continued Jennie, "and as Liza is not coming it cannot make much difference to her if Emma takes her place."

"Emma would not be able to tolerate the heat of Italy," said Anne, "she is very delicate you know."

History repeats itself, as Miss Norton used to say, thought Jemima idly. I feel guilty now for hoping Aunt Anne would oppose the idea. It looks like Miss Middleton is going to have as dull a youth as Aunt Anne herself but then if she's weak enough to tolerate it, it's her own fault.

Jennie's face fell and she looked at her mother expectantly. Elizabeth, however, could find no way of circumventing Anne's assertion that Emma was delicate; she was delicate and what was worse, Caroline did not like her. No, such a fragile girl could not be entrusted to Caroline and Jane had enough to worry about with young Charles.

The door opened and Mr Darcy entered; he greeted his cousin and her companion and then motioned for his wife to join him in the hall. Jemima waited for the door to close behind them and dashed over to it but all she heard was their footsteps on the marble floor in the direction of his study. Liza glanced at Jennie and rolled her eyes but Jennie pretended not to notice one sister's impropriety or the other's disapproval of it.

"More plum cake, Aunt Anne? Emma?"

Jennie Darcy was all graciousness. She poured tea, cut cake and found a topic of conversation that both the Countess and Miss Middleton could participate in; that was something Mrs Darcy herself found difficult. Liza sighed and wandered over to the window while Jemima retook her seat but did not join in the conversation. She watched Liza for a moment thinking how she resembled her father while staring at the glass - she was sure that on those occasions Liza was not contemplating the view.

"Miss Dashwood..."

"Yes, ma'am."

Anne smiled, "I hear from your Mamma that you are learning to play the harp."

"That is true," replied Jemima, "but Liza is much better at it than I am, aren't you, Elizabeth?"

Liza turned around briefly, "That is something I am not qualified to answer, Jemima."

She looked back out of the window and Jemima thought wildly for a way of forestalling the catalogue of Emma's accomplishments which always followed any discussion of their own. Anne de Bourgh had made up for being the least accomplished girl in the kingdom by making sure her godchild lacked nothing; a series of the best Masters in the country had passed through Dovedale and there was very little that Miss Middleton was not competent in, except perhaps, conversation.

Elizabeth returned to the morning room after about quarter of an hour bringing George with her but while she was sure something of importance had occured Jemima could not discover what. The Countess and Miss Middleton were to spend the entire day at Pemberley which convenientlyreminded Jemima that she had been invited by Lady Hampton to Ladywell Abbey.

She ordered a carriage and was on her way downstairs tying her ribbons as she went when she glimpsed her mother sitting alone in the library hankerchief in hand. Pausing briefly to admire her reflection in the fashionable wide-brimmed bonnet she put her head around the door.

"What is wrong, Mamma? Is it Grandmamma?"

"No, dear," Elizabeth began folding the hankerchief, "it is not Grandmamma, she is quite well."

"You never weep," pointed out Jemima with one eye on the clock. Caroline detested lateness.

"Your Papa and I shall not be going to Norway this summer. Business, again."

"America," said Jemima slowly, "perhaps he will take you there with him?"

"America?" repeated Elizabeth mystified, "What are you talking about?"

"The Darcy family's American investments are in trouble," explained Jemima, "Lady Hampton sent me a note saying that Sir James is packing to go to London directly."

Elizabeth sighed, "I never cease to be astonished at the way you always know more than I do about what goes on in this family."

"So what will you do now?"

"You mean what will we do. If Sir James cannot leave England then neither will Caroline."

Jemima groaned, "Oh, Mamma, I could not tolerate another summer at Longbourn and Winchester! How ever did we get into that habit?"

"I do not know," replied Elizabeth gloomily, "but I know I could not endure it either. We must find an alternative. Perhaps that trip to the lakes that has eluded these four and twenty years."

Jemima laughed, "Honestly, mother, how could you have lived in North Derbyshire for seventeen years and never manage to get across the county boundary?"

Elizabeth widened her eyes sarcastically, "Oh, something to do with a husband and four children, I suppose. And, I remember even if you do not, a little girl who insisted on spending every summer in Cornwall...."

Jemima ignored her mother's reply. "Well, if you want to go to Windermere be quick and talk to Papa about it or you will find yourself invited to Winchester. You know how it is in this family, you cannot keep a secret. If you prick your finger sewing there will be a letter in the post the next morning from Grandmamma Bennet asking how your wound is doing."

Elizabeth grimaced, "Do not remind me."

Jemima smiled, "Winchester is the sort of place that needs visiting once every five or ten years simply to ensure it is still standing. It will never be a pleasure trip and I cannot imagine what my sister likes about it."

Elizabeth shook her head, "I cannot either beyond a great love for the Hampshire countryside and I must say I think that purchased at too great a price when I consider all the evenings spent with Mary and Mamma."

The next day as the Miss Dashwoods were out walking the elder took it upon herself to quiz the younger about her feelings for a certain officer.

Anne Elizabeth Dashwood was a gracious and elegant young woman of nearly nineteen. She was handsome with sense and good humour in her face and a perfectly gentle, unassuming manner. She was also thoroughly unsuited by temperament and experience to fend off the attacks of her older and more sophisticated cousin.

"You certainly had a most attentive partner at the ball last night," began Jemima after all the usual pleasantries had been exhausted.

"Yes, indeed. I was most fortunate," replied Anne with two generations worth of inherited modesty.

"I would go as far as to say you have made a conquest," sighed Jemima in Lady Hampton's best doting tone.

"Do you think so?" Anne was rapidly showing signs of discomfort, deceit was not her forté.

"I can think nothingelse," replied Jemima, " have you known him long?"

She nodded, "I was at school with his sister but their uncle ran out of money and she was removed but we kept in touch and last summer I was fortunate enough to meet her again at Weymouth and she introduced me to William. We have been secretly engaged those last nine months."

"Nine months!" repeated Jemima incredulously, "And you have not told your Papa or Mamma?"

"How can we marry? He has no money."

"But he is in the very profession which your father is best equipped to help."

Anne shook her head decidedly, "No, General Dashwood will not help him. He has always said the man who will have me will deserve me and that means he will either have a fortune or make it himself."

What lovely hypocrisy. My father arranged for your father to have a fortune and an estate; by rights St Erth should be mine today.

"You are sure of this, Anne?"

"Quite sure and do not suggest I tell my Mamma, she concurs absolutely with everything Papa says."

Jemima nodded, "I imagine Mr Darcy had her well trained in that before her marriage." In everything except her choice of marriage partner....

"Never mind. Remember the poem, 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment....' Love will always find a way."

"I know the poem well," replied Anne bitterly, " 'Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks but bears it out even to the edge of doom.' My parents are my greatest impediment, Jemima, and I do not see how love can find a way around them."

"I do not think your love is doomed," sighed Jemima, "that is not what Shakespeare meant, you must have faith that all will turn out well."

"I shall try, cousin, I shall try. Meanwhile you must promise me not to breath a word of this to anyone, not even to your Mamma."

"I promise," said Jemima. Especially not to my Mamma.

They parted at General Dashwood's house and Jemima could not see her cousin fully through the door before hitching up her skirts and running the better part of two blocks to Lady Hampton's house.

"I saw you from the window," said Caroline sternly, "what do you think you are doing making such an exhibition of yourself?"

"I am sorry, dear Lady Hampton, but I have spoken to Anne and it is just as we imagined... as we hoped it would be... but I am sworn to secrecy so you must guess it all."

Caroline stared and sighed, "There is no reason to go scampering about the town looking so wild just because your cousin has... entered into a foolish engagement, am I right?"

Jemima dropped gratefully into a chair and smiled, "How did you know?"

"It had to be at least that good to bring you here in such a state," smiled Caroline, "and what shall we do to help the poor creature, do you think?"

"I cannot imagine for she will be in Italy with us and he will be here in London with his regiment."

Caroline ordered tea and sat down, "Distance is an object," she murmured. "How do you rate their chances of happiness, my little gem?"

Jemima smiled up happily from her low chair, "As good most people may expect upon entering the marriage state."

Caroline laughed, "You are so prudent, far too prudent for your age. When Sir James proposed to me I had to weigh up the fact that he was not the conventional society man and not always a gentleman... against his words, I love you to the depths of my soul and even beyond.* It is a serious thing, matrimony."

"But Anne has not your depths," protested Jemima, "if she doesn't marry this dullard she will marry the next one."

"You are right," replied Lady Hampton resolutely, "and she may as well marry against her parents wishes as within them. It will do them good to have a little worry!"

Chapter 14

Jemima spent the evening trying to ascertain from Jennie what their Aunt Georgiana's ambitions were for Anne but it was an unrewarding task. Jennie merely looked shocked and said that of course Aunt Dashwood wanted Anne to marry for love, the most perfect love. Jemima gave up. There were some things not worth pursuing.

The next piece of intelligence to reach her concerning her cousin's situation was that she was not accompanying them to Italy. Jennie, who was as fond of Anne as of Richelda, was very distressed. She expressed it volubly to Jemima whose own feelings were quite the reverse.

"Calm yourself, sister," she smiled. "You will have not only Richelda but Olivia to keep you company." And Aunt Jane. You may all keep eachother very boring company indeed!

With a heavy heart Jennie conveyed the information to Lady Hampton whose feelings were scarcely more charitable than Jemima's on the subject.

"She will have let Lt. Morland slip through her fingers by the time we return to England," sighed Jemima when Jennie had left the room.

Lady Hampton frowned, "Not necessarily. We make not may hay while the sun shines so we must do it by moonlight."

She smiled and Jemima smiled back; their own smile. Sir James, entering the room, enquired anxiously about the distinct odour of burning.

"There is nothing burning excepting, perhaps, your curiosity," replied his wife.

"It smells more like the flames of conspiracy to me," retorted Sir James as he made himself comfortable with his paper, "a good, hot conspiracy."

The next few days were entirely taken up with preparations for the journey. Mrs Bingley packed as though she expected there to be no apothecaries in Italy and Lady Hampton with the care of one who expects no seamstresses. It was completed at last although Jemima, who followed to the letter Aunt Catherine de Bourgh's instructions on how to fold a gown, was finished first.

Never let your maid do anything you want done well, her imperious tones echoed around Jemima's chamber, I always tell Anne and she never listens.

Another soppy Anne. Ah, and here is mine.

"Miss Dashwood, ma'am," announced the maid.

"Anne, how lovely to see you again! Do come into my sitting room, this one is such a mess. Take off your bonnet - oh, you look pale..."

"I fear he will resent waiting much longer," sighed Anne sitting down on the first chair, "I do not know what to do."

"Yes, indeed! Were I in your situation, Anne, that would be my greatest concern. It is remarkably wrong of your father to look upon poor Lt. Morland as being so far beneath you."

"I hate to think badly of my Papa, indeed I cannot but it is wrong of him to consider William to be so low. He is a gentleman and I am a gentleman's daughter, thus far we are equal."

Jemima frowned and sighed, "He is only just a gentleman, Anne."

"What has that to do with it?"

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps gentlemen at his level often look to the daughters of the yeomanry for their wives. Hardworking girls who have yet some education."

Anne, however, was adamant. William intended to marry a lady, it was very important to him.

"Anne, there are some very ladylike young women among the yeomanry. Of course, as a class they are the last sort of people to interest me; they are too high on one hand and too low on the other but still I know many of them by sight and there are some quite remarkable girls. Where in Derbyshire does he come from?"

"Spring St George," murmured Anne, her eyes filling with tears.

"Lovely town," remarked Jemima as if she did not notice her cousin's eyes.

"With many attractive young women?"

"Oh, I do not know. Do not listen to me, it was idle and unfeeling speculation and I had no right to indulge in it."

"You are right. He will find someonelse, why should he not?"

"Because he loves you."

"Oh, Jemima, he resigns his commission in three months and leaves for Derbyshire. He has made enough money to start building up his farm - and once he has left London I shall never see him again."

You silly goose, even as a soldier he was unlikely to remain in the one place for long, you should have taken that into consideration months ago.

"Anne, although your parents are rich you have been brought up quite simply, I am sure you could manage as a farmer's wife... and your Papa will have to give your money when you are twenty-one, he will give it to you sooner when he sees how happy you are, how you and your William love one another."

"I do not understand you."

"To true love admit no impediment, Anne."

"I could never distress my parents in such a horrible way, you know I could not. Would you break your mother's heart if you could avoid it?"

I would not break Mr Darcy's heart if I could avoid it.

"Well, I hope being a dutiful daughter is consolation enough for you when you are informed by his sister of her felicity in gaining a sister. Anyhow, I am sure it often happens that girls your age meet someonelse soon enough, it is a old-fashioned adage that says, 'keep your heart too proud for all but love,' nowadays we must look to more prudent considerations."

Anne's mouth trembled alarmingly but she kept her composure and Jemima decided it was time to keep her counsel

Part 15

The channel crossing was tranquil enough but none of them, with the exception of Sir James, the Colonel, and Lydia, were good sailors and spent most of the voyage beneath deck gratefully sipping at the remedy provided by Mrs Bingley's thoughtfulness. Calais was swathed in mist to the disappointment of some but not of Lady Hampton and Jemima. Calais, like the rest of France and the whole of Switzerland, threatened to bore them. They ate in their rooms and bemoaned the small downturn in Charles's breathing that would force them to spend four days there instead of the planned two.

"I do wish we had not brought him," sighed Jemima for the hundredth time, "he is such a little milk-and-water baby."

"Dear Jane would not have stirred without him," replied Caroline, "and your mamma would not have allowed you to stir without dear Jane."

"I imagine he would breathe better if he occupied his mind more," cried Jemima, "his lungs are overworked providing air enough to fill his empty head!"

Caroline smirked, "My opinion exactly, my little gem."

Soon enough though they left Calais behind and travelled through a succession of pretty villages and towns. Mrs Bingley could not be more pleased; everything was charming in her eyes, the places were beautiful, the people perfectly friendly - she could not conceive of a happier way to travel. Lady Hampton, conversely, was displeased with everything. It was all too rustic for her taste and she could not wait to reach the Villa Loretta. A sixteenth century house in a garden of oleander and azaleas occupied her dreams every night and her conversation every day.

They reached the Simplon Pass eventually and stopped for a few days at an inn to admire the scenery better. Jennie and Jemima painted furiously - their mother's love of mountains was to be indulged with numerous watercolours sent home to Pemberley. It might be said that Jennie's were rather better than Jemima's for she had taken more pains in her art lessons over the years but Jemima's had a dramatic flair well suited to her subjects.

Villa Loretta too was exquisite and none of Mr Leigh's praise of its beauty or situation had been exaggerated. It was a uniformly built house painted a pale yellow with a picturesque bell-tower; green shutters and little balconies entwined with ivy and white clematis flowers decorated the exterior and a terraced garden descended slowly into a profusion of orange azaleas which tumbled over into the sapphire waters of the lake.

"I could not conceive of anything lovelier!" cried Jane as she emerged from the carriage and gazed up at the house.

"Nor I," responded Caroline with good deal of relief.

The interior of the house was cool and Grecian. It reminded Jane of the fashions of her youth and the elegant statues reminded Caroline of a youthful Jane. Jemima was not too pleased with the inside, it seemed to betray the outside with its cold, quiet grandeur, she had expected more character, more charm - some warmth.

By lunch the housekeeper had found a letter from Mr Leigh. It welcomed them to Villa Loretta and it announced the probable arrival of his brother, Captain Mark Leigh lately of HMS Guinevere.

"Captain Mark Leigh is one of the most disagreeable young men I have ever come across," scowled Lady Hampton, "disagreeable, depressed and depressing. It is so inconsiderate of Mr Leigh to inflict him on us."

"Mr Leigh is always inflicting disagreeable things on people," replied Jemima. "What is wrong with his brother, anyhow?"

"If the poor man suffers from a melancholy then he should have, and will have our sympathy and co-operation," said Mrs Bingley firmly.

Jemima, knowing that Lady Hampton would not share her opinions further in the presence of Mrs Bingley waited until she was alone with the Hamptons to pursue the question of what exactly was wrong with Captain Leigh.

"The most tedious broken heart I have ever met," said Lady Hampton indifferently, "I wonder at his brother encouraging it. I do not know the whole story but he was once in love with a girl of whom his family disapproved. What was their objection, Sir James? I cannot recall... Anyhow, his family being proud, would not stomach her. He went to sea to make his fortune and when he returned she had died."

Jemima said nothing; she looked out on to the lake, now very quiet with the afternoon wind barely blowing at all.

"Jewess," said Sir James suddenly from behind his outdated English newspaper, "she was a Jewess. Do you not remember her, Caroline, a tall, raven haired slightly chilly beauty?"

"I am sure I never met her," replied his wife.

"At William Petrie's wedding to Eliza Beaufort, are you sure you didn't?"

"Quite sure," replied Caroline, "I was not there. It was the summer Louisa was ill."

"Ah," he sighed, "her name was Esther Lurie, she would have grown into a lovely woman had she the chance."

"How romantic and how sad," sighed Jemima.

"Stuff and nonsense," declared Caroline, "the stupid girl had no business pining away like that."

Sir James caught Jemima's eye and smiled but she could never reconcile herself to her dear friend's lack of romance and would not smile back. She was about to ask what exactly Mr Stephen Leigh had been doing while his brother was being treated so cruelly by the family but before she could Sir James was on his feet and making excuses.

"Well, I must be away," he announced, "Fitzwilliam and the boys are hiring a boat to go fishing this afternoon and I think I will join them."

"At least we have preserved Anne Dashwood from the fate of Esther Lurie," cried Jemima as soon as Sir James had gone, "I am sure I gave her enough encouragement to elope with her lieutenant. Why else should she decline a trip to Italy?"

Caroline was not interested.

"I hope we do not have to eat their catch," she said stretching out on the chaise-lounge with a book.

Part 16

Captain Leigh arrived within the week. If he was surprised to find a baronet, his lady, her sister-in-law and a gaggle of young people in the villa he did not express it in word or look and straightaway was pronounced to be as pleasant as his brother with only a little uncomfortable quietness of manner to suggest anything amiss.

Jemima was most pleased with his quietness, it was greatly in contrast to his talking brother.

"He is the most pleasing and charming of young men," she remarked decidedly to Lady Hampton.

"And how many young men do you really know?" was the disappointing reply.

Jemima sighed; the next time she wanted effusions of delight over a man in uniform she would consult her Aunt Lydia.

"He is clever, sensible and has such perfect good breeding," she insisted, "and he is handsome as well. What more can you require? You know I do not like stupid people."

He was also useful for he had stayed in the area many times and was well qualified to advise on routes and things to see. The Villa Clerici* he said, was a must, although the gardens were not what they could be. They all drove there after taking tea with a vague acquaintance of Lady Hampton's, the celebrated novelist Lady Davidia Ellis, who was visiting Tremezzo with her husband.

Villa Clerici was quiet as the family had not yet arrived for the summer but the housekeeper was more than pleased to show them around and Lady Hampton equally pleased to exhibit her proficiency in the modern languages so long ago boasted of to Elizabeth Bennet at Netherfield.

Jemima, who spoke Italian and was not interested in the housekeeper's tales of Counts and Cardinals, lingered behind the party with Captain Leigh who had apparently seen the place many times before.

"The most interesting portrait is in this room," he said indicating a door to the left of the one the housekeeper was progressing to, "unless you are interested in the beatification of one of the ancestors."

Jemima smiled and wrinkled her nose, "No, thank you, the things people get canonized for never cease to astonish me but I think I have read all the variations."

They entered a cool, blue room with a view over the garden and not much else to recommend it.

"Look," he said, "a picture of you."

Jemima gazed in amused astonishment at the slightly crackled painting of a honey-haired girl in a blue veil; it did look familiar.

"Who is she?"

"A smiling madonna," he replied teasingly, "very unusual, I assure you, they tend normally towards an unattractive fretfulness."**

"It isn't me," smiled Jemima, "it's my mother with fair hair."

A sudden thought washed over her, wasn't she just her mother with fair hair? There were no mirrors in the room, not even a glass framed painting in which to console herself with a contrary image.

"We had better find the others," she said quickly, "I do not want my Aunt or Caroline lecturing me on lack of manners."

"Caroline?" he repeated, "You call Lady Hampton by her first name?"

Jemima did not reply; she never justified herself to strangers.

They had settled on the terrace and were being served tea. Lady Hampton's expression suggested that the ritual was not quite English enough but everyonelse looked content.

"I could stay here forever," exclaimed Lydia, "how different a beauty it is from Cornwall! Colonel, darling, might we have a little house like this one day?"

"This is not a little house, my love," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam in all seriousness, "I fear I would lose you in it and that would never do."

Lydia crunched an almond biscuit making Lady Hampton cringe and insisted that a little house on the lake would set her up for all her summers to come.

"There is nothing to prevent us spending every summer here!" cried Sir James.

Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam exchanged looks, there was at least one element in that us they could not endure every summer.

"Shall we attempt to navigate the lake as far as the town of Como some time this week?" asked Captain Leigh sensing the atmosphere and wishing to dispel it.

"I should adore that!" cried Jennie, "and with you I shall not be a bit afraid."

Jemima had been writing up her journal even although she knew Lady Hampton considered it very rude but Jennie's exclamation made her look up sharply.

"It is a lake, Jane Frances, not the Atlantic ocean!"

Jennie ignored her; the relationship between Elizabeth's daughters was not unlike the one between herself and her sisters, a good deal of ignoring went on.

Caroline, however, was more observant. She had expected Jennie, Richelda and Olivia to become silly over Captain Leigh for a man cannot be handsome and wear a uniform, even occasionally, without attracting the attention of what she considered three of the silliest girls in Europe. Jemima, however, was another matter and she began to worry that she might be allowing her dislike of one brother to colour her opinion of the other in a more favourable direction.

"Should you like a turn about the garden, Jemima?" she asked.

Jemima, who never normally declined an opportunity to be alone with her mentor, refused. Caroline sat down again feeling quite deflated and watched as Jemima took every chance to steal Captain Leigh's attention away from Jennie and Richelda.

I am sure you would take a stroll in the gardens if someonelse were to ask you, she thought, I wish I knew what game you are playing. Are you really jealous or are you merely showing them that you could have him if only you wanted him?

* Later named Villa Carlotta after a Dutch princess who married into the royal family of the Savoy and, of course, the gardens became everything they ought to be.

** A similar scene occurs in Elizabeth Von Armin's "Enchanted April."