Posted on Sunday, 5 August 2007

Mr. Darcy looked out at the vastness of his estate. Usually he did not hang about windows contemplating his financial prowess, but today he was puzzled by a question. It was Christmas morning and, out of all the places in the whole of Pemberley, why would every Gardiner and Bennet in the place choose to congregate loudly outside his bedroom window?

He sensed movement behind him and turned to see his wife rousing. They were both habitually early risers--the demands of an estate begin with the sun--but as the previous day was Christmas Eve the festivities left them drifting to sleep in the smaller hours.

Suddenly Lizzy sat bolt upright.

"Snow games!"

There was a flurry of activity and a confused Darcy was left standing, holding his wife's nightgown, and trying to store in his memory the picture she'd just presented while dashing to her dressing room. He decided he'd better get ready for the day.

On the other side of the manor house, Caroline Bingley rolled over at the cacophony of sounds coming through the walls. Never an early riser, she was not about to make today an exception, for all that it was Christmas morning. She was at Pemberley, and for the moment that was all she could ask. She snuggled back into the covers and, to drown out the noise from below, began reciting her alphabetized list of all the reasons she would make a better mistress of Pemberley than Elizabeth Bennet. By the time she mumbled, 'Country bumpkin,' she was fast asleep.

Elizabeth bolted out the front door of Pemberley, turned the corner, and collided with her father, who just managed to keep them both upright in the snow.

"Good morning, Lizzy. Well rested, are we?"

"Oh, Papa! I'm so sorry I'm late! Have they begun?"

"Well, my dear, you've completely missed Crack of Dawn Cricket, but I think you may have a chance to get in on the foot races." Mr. Bennet pointed down toward the level lawn by the lake, where Kitty, Jane and Mrs. Gardiner were lined up waiting on Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner to recite the rules--they made them up every year.

Lizzy grinned at her father and took off down the hill to join the line. Shortly after, Darcy joined his father-in-law at a more moderate pace.

"Good morning, sir," he said, "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Good morning, my boy! A Bennet family tradition, inherited from a Gardiner family tradition. Every Christmas morning, we play games to determine who gets the highest of honors."

"That explains my wife's haste."

"Yes, Lizzy's been the champion for 4 years in a row now. I don't think she has much of a chance this year though--Kitty's been training ever since her sisters left home."

"A much coveted prize it must be, indeed! What on earth does the winner get?"

"The winner gets to open all their presents before anyone else."

"And what must the losers do?"

"They have to pretend to be interested."

Darcy was silent. He had only been married a little over a month and every day brought a new discovery. He was contemplating the changes that had already been made in his life when a dark-headed blur streaked passed him toward the women who had just begun to run.

"Georgiana!" Darcy yelled.

"Happy Christmas, Fitzwilliam!" she shouted over her shoulder, running faster to overtake the others.

Mr. Bennet chuckled at his son-in-law's expression. It would take young Mr. Darcy some time before he understood the power of a large family. Miss Darcy seemed to be catching on quite well. He glanced up at the house and saw a baffled Bingley emerge in search of Jane.

"Come Darcy, they'll be done soon. Let's go and wait for them where it's warm."

As they turned back toward the house, Darcy glanced over his shoulder. The race was nearing the finish line when Georgiana threw herself onto Elizabeth, who grabbed Mrs. Gardiner for support. They all went down in a heap, Jane stopped running to make sure they weren't hurt, and Kitty dashed across the finish line.

After presents had been opened (3 very put out women and one VERY contrite young lady oooohing and aaaaahing as Kitty drew out her time in the spotlight interminably), Elizabeth excused herself to attend to some business.

Caroline, certain that "business" was the most preposterous excuse the Mistress of Pemberley could give to leave a room (surely the estate just runs itself?), was certain Elizabeth left for a secret assignation with her husband. She was determined to catch them and make them embarrassed for leaving her all alone in a room full of Bennets.
Caroline asked a passing footman where his mistress was.

"I saw her go into the master's study, miss."

Hah! What business could the MISTRESS have in the MASTER'S study? It must be something covert. Caroline pressed her ear to the oak door. Hearing nothing, she thought the occupants of the room must have heard her approach and stilled their movements. Preparing to look surprised, shocked, and apologetic all at once, she opened the door wide.

Only to find the Mistress of Pemberley--alone--buried behind a mountain of correspondence and files.

Lizzy, startled at the unbidden entrance, raised an eyebrow at her visitor.

"Miss Bingley...?"

Caroline was at a loss.

"What are you doing?" she blurted.

"I believe I just informed everyone not ten minutes ago that I would be attending to some business I'd been neglecting. Was there something you needed?"

"Business?"

"Yes, Miss Bingley. Business. As Mistress of Pemberley, it falls to me to deal with the employment files of the household staff, the household income and budget, sorting all correspondence, answering all generic social invitations, answering any correspondence my husband does not wish to deal with directly, and merging the household expenses with those of the estate as a whole. As this is the end of the fiscal year, I have needed to take care of closing out our accounts for the year for some time now, but I have put it off because we have company. It is a rather extensive process and I wished to be able to focus completely. I assumed Christmas afternoon would be a good time to work on it, as everyone would be able to entertain themselves with their presents."

"But...country...wild..."

Lizzy understood.

"You thought that because I grew up in a small village that I wouldn't know the workings of an estate? My father handed the estate household accounts over to me when I was 16. My ability to manage an estate was one of the reasons Mr. Darcy chose me as a bride--not the primary reason, but it was definitely a factor. For centuries the Mrs. Darcys of the world have been the true stewards of Pemberley, if not the nominal ones. Being mistress of these estates is practically a career decision. I won't deny, however, that the benefits are excellent. Did you think the Mistress of Pemberley did nothing but entertain and spend her husband's money?"

At this point Miss Bingley didn't know what she thought. All she knew was that to be mistress of Pemberley would be something, indeed.

And for the first time in her life, Miss Bingley was glad Mr. Darcy didn't choose her.

As Miss Bingley abandoned the study she began compiling a new list: Reasons NOT to be Mistress of Pemberley. Lizzy heard her mumbling, "Business letters...Continual nuisances..." as she got up to shut the door.

The End