Sharon Lathan: My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey into Love Everlasting

Yes, I hear you laughing, Jharna.

July 25

Pemberley, Derbyshire

Home at last! We arrived yesterday, the weather precisely as I remember it being this time of year. Hot and dry, sun shining beautifully and touching the Peaks and fields below with rays of gold. Stunning. All the pastures are a vivid green that almost hurts the eyes. And Pemberley, ah, my beloved Pemberley! How beautiful she is. Mr. Clark is still the head groundskeeper, William informs me. Obviously he has followed in his father's footsteps with equal skill as the gardens are perfection. I rose before dawn today in order to meander through the pathways in solitude as the sunrise woke the flowers, the aromas rising deliciously. I was almost late for breakfast, so lost in my reverie was I! I know, me late for a meal!

I did not have the chance to write ere we departed Kent. Miss de Bourgh was finally allowed to accompany us, but it was a dramatic scene, I am told. Raja and I stayed at the inn while Malcolm and Madeline confronted Lady C. William and Elizabeth had cleverly addressed the formal invitation to Miss Anne only. I know for a fact they rendered no formal invitations to anyone else, the festival primarily for the staff, and the inclusion of family a given. That William was quite put out by Miss Bingley insinuating herself into the company was obvious, at least to me. One annoying relative is enough, so they were succinct in their invitation to Miss Anne.

She is responding very well to the treatment. I have noticed a number of revealing glances between Miss de Bourgh and Raja. Not sure how I feel about it. I would be thrilled to see both young people find love, Miss Anne especially as she deserves some reward for tolerating her mother all these years with stoic patience. However, it is easy to misplace gratitude for affection. What is surprising is that Raja seems to be drawn to her and he has never taken his innate empathy to such degrees. I will study the situation carefully, not that there is much I can do to halt it, but I do not wish to see either hurt unduly.

Elizabeth, I am relieved to note, appears her sunny, exuberant self. Her pregnancy by all appearances seems to be progressing without complications. William is walking a foot off the ground, his eyes following her every move, not that they did not do so before. The day we arrived he was retrieving furniture from the attic. I was delighted to see the old cradle. I remember Phillip lying in it, as well as William so many years later. I know it is an heirloom, probably slept in it myself, although as there were two of us I truly do not know what Mother did! Should ask William if he unveiled a second cradle in the attic. Interesting.

I am anxious for the festival. Elizabeth is being quite secretive about the planned activities, although I can readily discern from her smug expression that it is to be an extravaganza extraordinaire! I have such fond memories of past festivals. Mother vainly tried to keep us inside but we always snuck out and mingled with the servant's children, all of us getting filthy and eating until we were ill. Good times. I specifically recall that it was the day before the Festival when James turned twenty, home from University for the summer and to celebrate his birthday on June 4, and my parents invited old Lord Matlock and his family to the Manor for the party. It was the first James, or any of us for that matter, had seen the Fitzwilliam girls for a number of years. Malcolm and James were at Cambridge together and close friends, so Father decided to include them on the guest list. Anne was fifteen, I think, and absolutely stunning. So was Muriel actually. Catherine was not there, as I remember, probably married to Sir Louis, now that I consider it. Anyway, even Alex and I at twelve could appreciate an attractive female, but James? Lord Almighty! One would think by his age he had seen his share of gorgeous ladies, but apparently not. Or, more to the point, I now know in my age-earned wisdom, not the one who would steal his heart. James took one look at Lady Anne and fell head over heels. It was clear to everyone present; James completely tongue tied and goggled eyed. Ridiculous, in fact, and Alex and I loved it! Teased him mercilessly, but he was undeterred, even when threatening to beat us senseless. Yes, indeed, happy memories!

July 31

Pemberley

Visited Rowan Lake today for a refreshing picnic organized at the last minute by Pemberley's most excellent Mistress. However, before I relate the day's fun, I must jot down the astonishing and amusing conversation with William earlier in the morning.

He discovered me where I was hiding in the library, entering sheepishly and carrying an enormous book in his arms and asking if he could have a private chat. It was exactly the opening I had been waiting for without even realizing it. He had questions about Elizabeth's pregnancy and birth, all understandable and typical questions, but the very fact that he was inquiring about a delicate, female-related topic proved to me even further the superior nature of the relationship they have. I teased him a bit as it still sends me into near hysterics how a grown man, married to boot, can blush so readily! Brilliant! I was kind though, turning on my Dr. Darcy pose and launching into it.

His quick grasp of matters obstetrical did not surprise me in the least. William's intellect is no longer a revelation. Nor was I overly shocked that he would be intimately curious about his wife's condition. I suppose I should have been though, as it is highly irregular, yet for some reason I was not. Everything about the Darcys' relationship has amazed me. Their level of intimacy shared, so blatantly apparent to anyone with a moderately discerning eye, is profound in its depth, so it seemed natural that he would want to know what to expect and what his beloved wife would suffer. Nonetheless, I was stunned on two counts: One, I suggested he consider being with Elizabeth during her delivery and after only a brief moment of flabbergast, he embraced the notion utterly and with an obvious relief that was uplifting to witness. Second, and secretly for the time being, I realized that I want, more than anything I have wanted in recent months, to be the one who delivers their baby! I truly did not anticipate the emotion and was frankly overwhelmed. Luckily William was caught up with his own emotions and did not notice me swallowing repeatedly and furiously blinking my eyes! Heavens! What is happening to me? I swear I have become a sentimental old fool overnight!

We talked for a long time, covering everything I could think of about the remaining months of her pregnancy and the birth process itself. No matter how delicate or vague I attempted to be, William always asked something pointed, frequently grasping a concept yet elucidated or leaping forward several steps while I was still explaining the fundamentals! Wonderful boy! All blushing ceased, William immersing himself so fully into the topic that I think a herd of elephants could have roared through the room and he would not have flinched. I have never seen a person focus as he does, except perhaps me when dealing with a medical trauma. I was frankly exhausted, truly at a loss as to what other information to impart, but he kept on, always thinking of something or referring to some obscure line in the textbook, which I think he has memorized cover to cover. I am quite certain we would still be in the room if not for Elizabeth interrupting to drag us away for the picnic.

Her brows rose dramatically at noting the book, but she said nothing. “Uncle and I were talking,” William says with dry understatement, meeting Elizabeth's glittering gaze candidly. The humorous lilt to her lovely lips was telling though, and I swear the two exchanged a full conversation without uttering a word. Marvelous!