Women of Pemberley by Rebecca Ann Collins Read Free Book Online Page A

along, Lizzie, that while he could not boast of the good looks and popularity of his brother, James Wilson is by far the better man. I have not changed my mind."
It was something she had said to Bingley on one occasion, but it gave her no joy to know that she was right.
A week later, a letter from Emma reached her mother just as she was setting out to visit her Aunt Gardiner. Elizabeth was also expected to join them, and Jane decided she would take the letter along and read it with her sister.
She was reluctant to open it in the presence of her aunt, who was not as yet privy to Emma's troubles. However, she need have had no fears on that score, for the letter contained not a single word of complaint. It was filled with Emma's delightful memories of her visit to Pemberley.
Reading it together, Elizabeth and Jane marvelled at the lightness of its tone. There was never a hint of her present unhappiness or a twinge of self-pity. Instead, she revelled in the pleasure, unexpected as it had been until the day before, of being able to visit Pemberley and see them all.
Dearest mama, she wrote:
    There is nothing I wanted more than to see all of you, especially you and papa, but also Aunt Lizzie and Cassy and Richard, and all the others. I have missed them all so much.
    If there is one thing that I dislike about living in London, it is that it is so distant from the places where so much of my heart is held hostage by my dear, dear family.
    I should have been truly miserable at missing Julian's party and little Elizabeth Jane's christening, and I would have done, were it not for the kindness of Mr James Wilson and my dear mother-in-law.
    It was she who had whispered to him that we were very disappointed about not going to Pemberley, on account of David's work, and so brought about his offer to convey us himself.
    Dear Mama, you will, I am sure, be very pleased to hear that Mr Wilson was very happy that he had been treated with such friendliness and shown so much hospitality at Pemberley.
    On our return journey, which was accomplished in remarkable time, he quizzed me about everyone he had met at Pemberley--not, I hasten to add, in a prying or inquisitive way, but simply because, as he said, "They were all such interesting people."
    He says he is looking forward to visiting Derbyshire again--he has had so many invitations, I am sure it will not be long before you see him."
As for myself, I cannot say often enough how happy I was to be back with you and be a part of the Pemberley clan again. I do miss you all so.
We are to go to Kent next week with Mrs Wilson. I shall write again when we return.
Your loving daughter,
Emma.
    Elizabeth and Jane were quite astonished at the letter. "Emma is clearly so happy at having been able to come to Pemberley," said Jane, "she is able, at least for a while, to put her troubles aside."
    "She is certainly fortunate in her in-laws," said Elizabeth, pointing out that Mrs Wilson's kindness to Emma matched that of her eldest son. "I wonder, Jane, do they know of the pain Emma has suffered and continues to suffer in her marriage?" she asked.
    Jane was unsure; Emma had not mentioned speaking of it to anyone. "I do not think she has told them. She might be afraid that they would take David's part against her, as in-laws often do," she said.
    "His mother might--mothers are forgiven if they are partial to their sons," said Elizabeth, "but I cannot believe that a man as fair and sensible as James Wilson seems to be would let his judgement be similarly distorted."
    Elizabeth was sure that if James Wilson discovered how his brother was treating Emma, he would not stand idly by. Jane agreed, but her own qualms for her child overwhelmed her. As she tried to put her letter away, tears spilled down her cheeks, and she had to be comforted by her sister.
    Jane was taking her daughter's unhappiness very hard. Her own almost idyllic marriage, in which, after some thirty years, husband and wife still considered themselves