Chapter 7

After Liz's interview with Margie, she found William aimlessly walking through the gardens and hurried to catch him.

When she reached his side, he casually remarked, "I cannot recall the last time that wandered through these gardens. Whenever out of doors, I was always headed to the stables, a tenant farm, on the road to Lambton, or some other destination. I daresay that it feels wonderful to have no destination."

Liz smiled as she examined his face, now finally relaxed after days of confusion and despondency. "Well, William, I'm sorry to say that this feeling won't last long. Margie may look old and frail, but keeps this house in ship shape with the efficiency of a Navy Seal commander. She'll be relentless in your training to make sure you don't run Pemberley to the ground," she said while gently elbowing him in the side.

"I look forward to my lessons," he replied.

The continued quietly for a few minutes more before William spoke again, "I don't know that I've thanked you for all you've done and I apologize for the omission. I wish to thank you now for inviting me into your home, returning Pemberley to me, and for believing me. I'm embarrassed to know that of all the words I know, I can't find any that can fully express my gratitude and appreciation."

Liz blushed at the praise and quietly replied, "You are very welcome. In the future, if you wish to thank someone in this century, a simple 'thank you' will suffice. We're not used to prolonged speeches and multisyllabic words in this day and age."

"I shall add it to my growing list of modern faux pas," he said good-humoredly.

They walked in companionable silence back toward the estate house and had just entered the doors before Darcy had the courage to ask, "When do you leave?"

"In an hour or two, I hope. Genny is coming home this afternoon and I can't wait to see her."

"And when will you be back?"

"Oh, um, I'm not quite sure. I think I just promised Margie that I'd be back for Thanksgiving at the end of November. I doubt I'll make it up here before then."

"That's nearly three and half months."

"Don't look so sad. Listen, you'll be too busy with Margie and getting reacquainted with Pemberley to even miss me."

Darcy couldn't respond, to do so would reveal more of his attachment to her than he was ready to admit. Instead he gave her a short bow and wished her a pleasant trip and a happy reunion with her daughter. He held open her car door as she climbed in. She stopped him from shutting the door and looked at him with her expressive, beautiful eyes.

"Margie has my number and email if you need anything. Please try to relax and assimilate a little," she added with a grin before closing the door, starting the engine, and driving away. Darcy stood in the drive until her car disappeared from sight. Sighing and straightening his shoulders, he walked inside to find Margie and begin his estate lessons.


Liz made it back to London in good time and had an hour to spare before Eleanor arrived with Genny. She wandered into her closet and looked at Charles's clothes. Aside from Genny, they were the last physical reminder she had of him in the apartment. After he died, she immediately packed away pictures of him and his ridiculous knick-knacks he had spread throughout the space, but she couldn't touch his clothes. She knew that if she didn't keep something of his around, then her heart would freeze and she wouldn't be able to care for Genny. She needed to be reminded of his life, so she wouldn't be tempted to forget him.

Now, however, she felt ready to pack them up and she knew just where to send them.


Genny came home like a ball of fire. Once she entered the apartment, she nearly flew out of her grandmother's arms. As soon as she hit the ground, she crawled as fast as her little arms and legs could go into her mother's arms.

"Mama, mama, mama, mama!" she squealed while slapping Liz's face.

"Hello, my little monkey! Mama is so happy to see you," she said while squeezing her daughter's tiny body to her chest. If not for Genny playfully slapping her face, Liz would have had tears running down her cheeks. She hadn't realized until minutes before Genny came home how much she had missed her. This little imp held Liz's happiness in her chubby hands, and Liz was more than willing to entrust her with such power. Now that she was home, Liz's world felt whole and complete.

Lady Eleanor watched the sweet reunion from the hallway, patiently waiting for Liz to acknowledge her presence. After a few more kisses and squeezes, Liz released Genny and turned to her mother-in-law, "How was she? I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

"Not at all," she reassured her, "Genny was nearly a perfect angel. We were delighted to have her."

Liz smiled in response and made her way to the kitchen, gesturing the countess to follow. "Can I get you something to drink? A cup of tea or coffee?"

"No, thank you, I won't stay long. I know you have a lot to do before you go back to work."

Liz could hear Eleanor's fingers rapidly tapping her purse and braced herself against a potential argument.

"Yes?" she asked, sitting at the counter to face the great lady.

"I have been delighted that you decided to stay in England and Genny is such joy and reminds me so much of Charles when he was young. So cheerful and energetic. I remember, when he was about Genny's age, he would crawl into the bathrooms and try to join whoever was in the shower. He nearly gave his grandfather a heart attack!" Eleanor began to chuckle as she stared at a spot somewhere behind Liz, completely lost in her memories of her son. Liz patiently waited for her to come to the point.

Slowly drifting back the present, she continued, "I was hoping I could convince you to join me at a few events this year. Now, before you object," she said holding her hand up, "I need you to understand that these events aren't just publicity stunts. Being a Darcy means something in this country and I'm afraid there aren't very many of us left."

Something in her tone and in her eyes made Liz stop her immediate objection. Her participation in society, or lack thereof, had been a constant argument between the two. Charles's death put a stop to her mother-in-law's incessant badgering as she knew Liz would need time to regroup and put a life together without her husband. But this time was different.

"Eleanor, what's wrong?" Liz asked.

Eleanor hesitated and took a deep breath before blurting out, "Geoffrey has cancer."

"What?" Liz asked in disbelief. Geoffrey was Charles's older brother. He was young and energetic, like Charles, but was too fond of drink and easy women. The two had never been close and he was one reason why Liz didn't like to be seen in public with the Darcys. It only took one photo and one salacious headline to ruin the peace she had finally found since moving to London. Most of his behavior had been hushed up by his parents to protect the family's image. It was both ironic and unsettling that such a vivacious man could be brought so low, further proof that money and status didn't make one invincible.

"He has cancer," Eleanor repeated more softly, her eyes brightening as the truth of her situation became more real each time she discussed it. "Acute leukemia to be exact. Initial tests show that it's aggressive and we may not be able to stop it. Elizabeth, how can I be expected to bury both of my sons? Parents are not meant to outlive their children, surely you understand this now."

"Of course," she replied numbly. She gingerly reached out to hold Eleanor's hand. Liz had never seen her so overcome. Even at Charles's funeral, she was able to cry and grieve with the dignity of a queen. The woman before her now was mad heartache, desperately cleaving to Liz's hand.

"This is why I need you with me. After David and I die, you and Genny will be the only Darcys left. Please, I'm asking you as a mother to carry on our legacy."

"Of course," she quietly repeated.

"Thank you," Eleanor replied, this time with a tentative smile. "We haven't made Geoffrey's illness public and I don't think we will until we can't keep it a secret anymore."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no. If you'll be at my side, that is all the support we need right now. And thank you, again, for letting us take Genny for the week. She is such an angel and just the tonic we needed."

Eleanor tug in her purse to find a tissue and gently dabbed her tears from her face so as not to ruin her perfectly applied makeup. She stood and gave Liz a gentle, yet sincere, hug. "I'll call you when the first fundraiser is near."

"I'm looking forward to it," she replied dryly.

Liz walked her to the door and, when she left, she sank to the floor with her back against the door, listening to Genny play with her toys.

"Holy smokes, what a week."


Darcy's first day with Margie was a revelation. First, he was introduced and given a very brief tutorial on the computer. He couldn't believe the speed with which Margie was able to answer electronic letters of business, review the finances of the estate, and keep track of the all of Pemberley's employees and contractors. To her credit, Margie didn't become overly frustrated with Darcy's stupidity and wonder over the machine. For all of his ignorance, Margie sensed he had a sharp mind and would be able to quickly pick up the necessary skills for the job.

Next, Darcy was taken on a tour of the grounds in a delightful little golf cart. Much like blood to the body, Darcy felt his soul reinvigorate with the familiar sights and smells of the land. To his surprise, the park was still large. There were still gardens and crops that were used on the estate and sold in the surrounding towns, but it was no longer the main well needed to fill Pemberley's coffers. When Darcy asked about tenant farmers, Margie explained that Pemberley no longer leased land to other owners. Pemberley had become largely self-sustaining by hosting events, selling its minimal produce, and working with movie studios. Though still not sure what a movie was, Margie said she would play one for him this evening that featured Pemberley.

As they headed back to the main house, Darcy began asking questions about the family. He learned that the Earl and Countess of Derby were the current owners. They had two sons, Geoffrey and Charles. Geoffrey, unfortunately, was taken up by the fame and privilege granted by his name and wealth. She didn't see him much at Pemberley as he preferred to stay in London, at a beach, or wherever his latest fling took him. Charles, as the "baby", was his foil. While energetic and personable like his brother, Charles was kind and responsible. He worked hard and earned most of his own money, not wanting to get by on virtue of his name. His death was a shock to everyone. Margie tearfully described the weeks following his death and how difficult it was for Liz.

"You must understand," Margie explained, "Charles and Genny are her world. Her parents and sisters died when she was still a teenager. I think the poor girl thinks she's tainted or bad luck or something. Charles told me what he could of her past before he brought her to Pemberley. 'I want to give her a home that she can always come back to,' he had said. This was first time I had seen her in months and I can honestly say she is on the mend. If only she could find someone to make her whole again."

Darcy followed the scenery the rest of the way to Pemberley. The rest of the day was spent on a tour of the main house, most of which he didn't need to see since it seemed like all of the rooms maintained their original function. Those that were used for events and films maintained an older, though Darcy would have called it fashionable, style. The rooms reserved for the family boasted rich, new furnishings. Before leaving for the night, Margie got him set up in a theater room with a period movie filmed at Pemberley. She said that there were plenty of meals in the fridge and all he needed to do was "pop it in the microwave." Darcy was, of course, confused by her instructions, but was incredibly tired of asking simple and, he could only assume, idiotic questions.

After a few turns of failure, Darcy managed to make the microwave do his bidding. He made his way to the theater room and began the movie. What he saw before him was breathtaking and laughable. He had never seen a production so vivid and engaging, but for people today to believe that's how his world looked was humorous. Well, it's not as if we had photos to depict the everyday. Our paintings always portrayed the ideal and idyllic, not the realistic. Pemberley, however, was absolutely majestic. He felt pride swell in his breast to see his home shown to such an advantage.

Once he finished the movie, he made his way to his bedchamber, remarking on the silence as his feet softly padded down the carpeted hallway. Even when dozens of servants lived here it was quiet, but not this quiet. He truly felt the weight of his solitude upon entering his chamber. Turning on the light to dispel the darkness and his brooding thoughts, he reviewed his time spent with Margie. She reminded him so much of Mrs. Reynolds—a fierce, loving, and industrious caretaker of Pemberley and anything that touched it. She was definitely knowledgeable and he was anxious to learn all he could from her. Though no longer a child, it was thrilling to know that he could still learn new things as an adult. Once again, and most definitely not for the last time, he was grateful to have met Elizabeth on that fateful afternoon. She had restored his home to him, even when he thought it had all been forsaken.

Thinking on her brief history shamed him. He was with her several days and had not truly tried to learn more about her, so desperate was he to regain all he had lost. When had he become so self-absorbed? He was known through all of Derbyshire as being a fair and liberal master, but he also knew that taking care of the land and its people was his right and duty. He couldn't imagine freely extending the same mercy and care to another as Elizabeth had given him.

Knowing that she had lost her family made him feel more connected to her and gave added weight to her wise counsel. She knew how to help him because she had experienced the same kind of loss. He hoped that her reunion with her daughter helped to fill the void she must inevitably feel. He then wished that he could be with them. They were technically family and Darcy, alone in his mansion, craved some kind of personal connection. Elizabeth was so easy to talk to. She would know what to say or how to distract from his incessant brooding and help him focus on the present.

With a heavy, tired sigh he readied himself for bed.


A week had passed since Liz's homecoming and conversation with Lady Eleanor. She and Genny settled into a comfortable routine. Liz couldn't remember the last time she had felt so happy and carefree. While she missed Genny fiercely during the day, going back to work was exactly what she needed. Her days were now full of patient visits, giggling with Genny, walks around the park, and having grown-up talks with the other doctors and nurses that didn't revolve around the death of her husband and society events.

She was grateful for that her mentor and residency head thought of her as he retired, leaving his patient list and recommending her to fill his position at the office. Liz was able to pick up where she left off a year ago and, for a few hours at least, completely erase the memory of the last year.

More than a few times a day, her thoughts would drift to William and how he was progressing. She usually thought of him on her walks with Genny around Regent's Park. Whenever they'd pass his bench, she was tempted to call Margie for a status report. When she arrived home, she packed up most of Charles's clothes to send to William, but she knew that he would more to assimilate than just clothing. On Saturday, she decided it wouldn't be unusual to ring Margie—it had been a week after all—and finally did so.

Margie said that he was doing well. William was sharp and was learning quickly. They had toured the estate, the main house, gone over the house accounts and the autumn/winter event schedule. William joined a couple house tours and volunteered to run a couple of them next week. Margie was surprised at the amount of detail and history he knew about the place, attributing it to his excellent memory and supplementary study. It was clear from the call that Margie still wasn't a time-travelling believer. As long as she didn't kick William out of the house and was willing to train him, Liz couldn't care less about whether or not she believed he was from the 19th century.

"William asks after you," she casually mentioned.

"Does he?"

"Of course. After he received your package, which was extremely generous, he has wanted to extend, and I quote, 'his heartfelt thanks and appreciation.'"

"Why can't the man just say 'thank you' without all of the pomp and presentation?"

"Well, dear, I do believe he's sincere. Since then he's asked me if you called or if I had heard from you. If you ask me, I think he's a bit lonely. During the day, he only really talks to me and then he's practically alone in this huge place at night. I think it would do him a world of good to hear from you every once and a while."

Liz immediately felt guilty for ignoring him all week. She'd wanted him to settle in and get used to his new life and thought that giving him time and space was what he needed. While it was what she would have needed had the situations been reversed, William clearly needed a friend.

"Does he have my phone number?" Liz asked.

"He's never asked for it and I don't think it ever crossed his mind. He's an odd duck, your William."

"I know he his, but he's not mine. We're just friends, Margie."

"Of course you are." Liz could only respond with an exaggerated eye roll she was grateful Margie couldn't see.

"I'll pass along your number. I guess I'll have to show him how to use the phone. It's like that poor boy was raised on a commune."

After ending the call, Liz decided that William needed a couple more gifts from her just to get him well and truly settled into life in modern-day England.

Liz knew he had received her package when she got a call from him around noon on the following Tuesday. Luckily, she was between appointments.

"Hello? Is this Elizabeth?"

"Yes, William, you called my phone. I'm the only one that will answer it."

"Quite right. I just, um, wanted to thank you, yet again, for your generous gifts. I'm not usually on the receiving end of such material generosity and I'm afraid I don't know how I can reciprocate."

"There's no need to reciprocate. It will be another week before you're paid and a phone and laptop are essential items to own in this day and age."

"Yes, well, I only really know how to use the telephone."

"Margie can show you," she laughingly replied. "And she'd be delighted to show you. She usually needs to call one of her grandkids when she's stuck, so I'm sure she'd be tickled to teach you a few things."

"Then I won't hesitate to seek her assistance."

"Tell me about Pemberley. How are you doing?"

"You'd have to ask Margie for a more objective report, but I believe I'm learning quickly. How the estate is managed has obviously changed, but in essentials nothing really has. There is still the land to be maintained—and there is much less to oversee now than when I was master—and there is still a staff to work with. While I was never expected to participate in the house tours, I've been delighted to do so now. The Darcys who succeeded me have done remarkably well in preserving the spirit of the home."

"I'm happy to hear that you feel at home."

"I do. Thank you for bringing me here and convincing Margie to let me live on the estate."

"You're very welcome." Liz looked at her phone as a message was coming through. "Oh, William, I have to go. One of my patients has gone into labor. We'll talk more tonight, okay? Gotta go. Bye."

William stared at his phone, astounded at its abrupt end. But she had said that they would talk tonight. He could feel a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought.

A/N: I know it has taken me forever to post, but life threw a few curve balls at me and I didn't want this chapter to billed with brooding and ruminations on the meaning of life. Thank you to those who continue to read and a special thanks to those who review. Y'all truly keep me inspired and determined to continue this story. It has already morphed into more than I could have imagined.

Peace and love to you and yours!