Searching for Pemberley (30 page)

He immediately jumped up and shook my hand. “It's good to see you again, Maggie. Are you ready for the big show?”

“Yes, but only because of your mother. I've never been to anything like this.”

“Well, when you get right down to it, it's just a dance, except everyone wears nicer clothes.” And then he continued, “I'm looking forward to meeting Rob. From what I hear, he sounds like he's a good Joe. Isn't that what Americans say? And he's an American, so that simplifies things. No arguments about where to live.”

Jack tried to catch Michael's eye, but not before he had asked if an announcement was to be made at the ball. He had assumed we were getting engaged because we were his parents' special guests.

“No announcement. But Rob will be here tomorrow, so you'll have a chance to meet him.”

While waiting for the coffee to perk, Beth said she had planned to serve sandwiches for dinner because she was unsure of what time James would be arriving. “James thought they would be in about 4:00.”

“Which means 6:00,” Jack added. Angela's tardiness had become a sore point with her father-in-law. Beth had asked Jack to exercise some patience since Angela came from a country where the rhythm was a lot slower, but he wasn't buying it. As far as he was concerned, Angela was living in England, and she had better pick up the pace.

“Forget sandwiches,” Michael said, standing up. “Why don't we just go down to the Hare and Hound? We can leave a note and let James know we've gone out.”

The Hare and Hound was a typical English country pub. One side had a snooker table and dart board while the other side had a bar and lounge. There was a crowd gathered around the dartboard, and in the middle of it was Freddie, who waved to us with a fistful of darts in one hand and a beer in the other.

After our sandwiches were served, Michael asked his parents about the preparations for the gala. “How are the Catons managing it all without the army of servants?”

“Mrs. Caton has a contract with an agency, and they send her whoever she needs,” his father answered. “You'll probably recognize a face or two from Crofton.”

“Michael, wait until you see Montclair,” his mother added. “The Catons have done a magnificent job in restoring it to the Regency Era. It's absolutely stunning.”

“I've always thought that Montclair was beautiful, but, truthfully, I prefer Crofton Wood. It's much more intimate. What do you think, Maggie?”

“Well, I think I'd have to go with Montclair, but only if I don't have to dust it.” And everyone laughed. “Actually, in Minooka, I shared a bed with my younger sister, so a step up for me would be having my own bedroom.”

“But there are advantages to sharing a bed.” After a long pause, he continued. “I mean, your hometown is in the mountains, and it gets cold in the winter, does it not?”

I nodded, but quickly added, “What's the weather like on Malta?”

“Hot and humid.”

After that exchange, Michael started to play with his utensils and made a teepee with the forks and spoons. Beth looked at her son with a puzzled expression. Between his remark about sharing a bed and his tableware construction project, it was obvious something was not right.

“I might as well tell you now,” he finally said, “my squadron is being sent to Lubeck to help with the Airlift. I won't be going back to Malta. My orders are to go directly to Germany.” To which his father said, “Christ.”

“Listen, Dad. I'm not crazy about going to Germany either. But the RAF and the Americans have been flying supplies into Berlin around the clock for more than two months now, and I don't see it stopping any time soon. The ground crews have been turning the planes around as fast as safety will allow. With all of these landings and takeoffs, it's rough on the planes, and the air and ground crews are exhausted. There will be accidents if the crews don't get a break. So it makes sense for our squadron to go to Germany instead of just sitting in Malta protecting sea lanes to an empire that really doesn't exist anymore.

“Since I'm due to be discharged in November, I'll be working on the integration of British and Commonwealth crews that are already arriving from Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa.” Jack said nothing, so Michael continued, “Six weeks, Dad. That's what we're talking here. Just six weeks before I'm out of the service.”

On the drive back to Crofton Wood, no one said anything until we pulled into the driveway. When Jack saw James's car was still not there, he said, “Bloody hell! He never got here. How long does it take a woman to pack a bag for a weekend?”

As soon as I came downstairs the following morning, Michael asked if I would like to go for a walk. “The weather's perfect, so my mother has suggested we walk up to the gazebo. It's on the highest point on the Montclair property and provides a spectacular view of the valley.”

“You should go, Maggie,” Beth said. “You can see all the way to Stepton, with all of its church spires.”

Once we stepped outside, Michael turned and said, “Our going for a walk was Mom's idea, and if you'd rather not because
of Rob, I understand. But before we go back in, I wanted to thank you for being such a good friend to my mother. As for my father, he told me that he thinks of you as a daughter.”

“There is no need to thank me,” I said emphatically. “Your parents have been so kind to me from the very start. The first day I met them, they invited me to stay overnight.”

“I would have extended the same invitation if I had been home,” Michael said, smiling. Every time he smiled, I wondered how a guy who was every girl's dream could still be available.

Without acknowledging what he had said about Rob, I started walking toward Montclair on an old wagon road that ran deep into the property. It was little changed from the time when Beth's father was a boy before the age of the automobile. Deep ruts marked the passage of hundreds of wagons, and there were stiles in the stone walls, just as there had been in the days of Jane Austen when Lizzy used one on her walk to visit Jane at Netherfield.

“To answer your question, I know your relationship with Audrey didn't work out, but if it had, would you have been okay with her going for a walk with another man?”

“I don't know. It's been so long since I fancied myself in love—not since I lived in Australia—that I'm not sure how I would respond. And I take your point. You have reason to be cautious because, if it weren't for Rob, I'd have a run at you myself.”

I didn't know what to say, so I kept walking. Although my relationship with Rob was on rocky ground, it seemed wrong to have a flirtation with Michael on one day and to meet Rob at the train station the next.

It was a gentle climb to the top where the gazebo was located in one of the loveliest spots on the property. In one direction,
you could see clear across the valley to the boundary of the Peak District and the spires of Stepton's churches from the other. Although the long view was now interrupted by a number of country manors and farmhouses, it was easy to imagine Elizabeth and Will Lacey sitting alone or with their children admiring the view of their slice of Derbyshire.

“Mum told me she and her friends used to stage plays up here when she was a girl. However, while I was still in short pants, the Pratt boys had turned the gazebo into a fort with straw bales as the palisade. Dennis, the youngest Pratt boy, James, and I would have to storm the fort, and the older boys would pelt us with rocks, and on occasion, manure mixed with straw and made into 'shit balls.'” Laughing, he said, “You may hear some awful things said about the Pratts, and everything you hear will be true.”

I turned around to face the manor house and its newly restored gardens. Looking at Montclair with the low autumn sun glinting off its windows, I asked Michael if he had any regrets that he had never lived above stairs in the manor house.

“None. When my mother tells stories of growing up there, it's as alien to me as India would be to you. Mum said her parents would often host what they called 'Saturday to Monday' weekends. It was a bit of snobbery because obviously you didn't need to work if you could stay through Monday. Do you know what the guests complained of the most? Boredom. They could ride, play tennis, shoot, go fishing, and yet, with everything there was to do and surrounded by all of this beauty, they were bored. I can't relate to that at all.”

We started down the hill toward the village, and we decided to have an early lunch at the inn. When the owner brought the tea and sandwiches over to our table, Michael stood up and gave
her a big hug. “My dear boy, where have you been? Your mother says you're stationed in Malta. Are you out of service, or are you just in for the gala at Montclair?” Mrs. Rivers was so happy to see him that she wouldn't let him answer. “Everyone is getting out their best dresses, and because of the war, we're taking them in instead of letting them out.” Pulling on her own dress, she said, “I lost a stone during the war, but I've put half of that back on since I'm back in the kitchen. We have a full house every weekend. Even with the rationing, people are finding a way to get here, and that's with Chatsworth closed. If they ever open it again, there won't be a room to be had in the whole county.”

Turning to me, she said, “And you and your young man are to be special guests, I'm told.” Beth had introduced me to Mrs. Rivers when we had lunch at the inn one afternoon. “You'll be dining with the aristocracy, my dear. I saw Lord and Lady Bramfield and their son yesterday and Sir John Heslip. And if Lady Viola is feeling up to it, you'll have a countess as a guest. But she really is getting on in years.” Seeing her husband waving at her, she said, “Oh, he'll be after me for running on with so many customers calling for their tea, but it was lovely to see you.”

“Is Lord Bramfield the same person as Ginger Bramfield?” I asked after Mrs. Rivers left.

Michael looked surprised. “How do you know that?”

I didn't think I was telling tales out of school when I told him that his mother had used Ginger to make his father jealous so that he would agree to marry her. This was all news to Michael.

“It must be a family trait. If you want something badly enough, you go after it.” After being quiet for a moment, he said, “Look at James and Angela. He stayed in that dusty village in Italy running errands for Angela's father for what, five or six
months, before they could marry. He told me he didn't have a beer for three months until a mate brought a case down from Germany. Now that's true love.”

I was trying not to compare James's willingness to do whatever it took to win Angela with Rob's decision that marriage should not even be considered until everything was just so.

Arriving back at the house, we could see James's Jaguar, courtesy of the Lacey Trust Fund, in the driveway. Beth had told me at breakfast that Ellen Manning, the mother of Trevor's daughter, as well as Beth's cousins, the Alcotts, were staying at Montclair because there was no room at the inn in Crofton. It was all very exciting. The clans were gathering for a big celebration, and Rob and I would be at the center of it.

ON THE NIGHT OF the gala, I kept thinking about Elizabeth Bennet and how she felt when she was getting dressed for the ball at Netherfield Hall. She was wearing her favorite ivory-colored dress, and Jane had put a wreath of white flowers in Lizzy's hair. Beth had chosen my gown, a green dress with an accentuated bodice that complemented my dark hair and blue eyes. While Beth was putting up my hair, she told me stories of the Harvest Festival Balls of her youth, and it brought back wonderful memories of her parents and brothers.

Beth, who looked good in gardening clothes, was truly elegant in a simple black dress with a sequined jacket. She wore a beautiful pearl choker, a gift from her father to her mother on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Extending her hand, she showed me the ruby ring Will Lacey had given to Elizabeth Garrison when they had become engaged. She must have fallen out of her chair when she saw that rock.

Once Angela was ready, Beth said we should go downstairs and meet our dates. I thought Rob was very handsome in a suit,
but when he met me at the bottom of the stairs in his white tie and tuxedo, I could hardly believe this man was waiting to take Maggie Joyce from Minooka to the ball.

“You look beautiful,” I told him, and he laughed and took my hand and kissed it. When we went into the living room, there stood the three Crowell men, who were as handsome a trio as I had ever seen. Putting out his cigarette, Jack said, “Let's get this show on the road, or the guests will be there before us.”

All during the war years, the windows at Montclair had been covered with blackout curtains. But not tonight. Driving up to the mansion, I could easily imagine how it appeared to Elizabeth Garrison when she first saw Montclair more than one hundred fifty years earlier. Numerous torches lined the path to the entrance, and men dressed in livery were there to help ladies out of their cars, just as Jack had done forty years earlier. Inside, dozens of candelabra created the warm glow of a late summer's eve, while shadows from the wrought iron staircases cast intricate lace patterns on the walls.

This was to be a night of surprises, but I didn't think there would be a bigger one than the sight of Mrs. Caton, standing in the foyer, straightening Freddie's tie. When Freddie had seen all that Mrs. Caton had done to make Montclair shine, he had gone into the village and borrowed a jacket and tie from the owner of the Hare and Hound. This might possibly be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.