Pemberley, 10 May 1832

The dark night sky had finally settled around Pemberley, hugging the big house like a warm blanket in this hot almost summer night. It was late after midnight and everything was perfectly still in slumber. But not everyone was asleep.

Imogen Darcy was laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She did not know what to make out of her mysterious new cousins.

At first there were the boys: A wild bunch, with unkept hair and patched up shirts. They looked a bit like the sunburnt farmers boys Imogen sometimes saw when she accompanied Mama on her visits to the tenants. But there ended the similarity with the tenant boys. While these were always good mannered and polite when Imogen came by, her cousins were loud. They chewed with their mouths open, talked between the adults, ate more than was polite and almost shouted in their northern accent. And the worst part was that Imogen did not even understand half of what they were talking about. She made a mental note to ask Miss Weston about it in the morrow. Surely she would now what kind of dialect it was.

Of her female cousins Imogen was even more wary. The little girl Mama had said was about Junos age was certainly too small for someone her age. She had been introduced as Catherine, but her siblings called her Katie which sounded very hard in their strange accent. Katie was terribly timid. Her voice was so small Imogen could not even understand her sitting two places aways. She reminded Imogen a bit of a doll, with that pale skin and big blue eyes and impassive way of eating. Her older sister Amy almost fed her half of the dinner.

If it had been Juno and her in that situation, Imogen would have surely told her sister to eat one her own! But Cousin Amy did not seem to mind at all. When they went off to their rooms she even picked up the small girl. Imogen wondered if little Katie was now even sleeping in the room she and Mama had prepared for Cousin Amy and Effie or if she went with her own Mama, like Juno would have done.

Cousin Effie seemed almost intimidating to Imogen. Her dress was simple, but looked as grown up as the one her older sister wore. Effie even wore her hair up, something that Mama never allowed Imogen to do!

The girls spoke in a bit softer voice than their brother. Their voices were a little bit more quiet, a little bit more soft. Their dialect was a difficult mix to make out. It had something Imogen immediately recognized as the way the children on Londons streets spoke. But had her Cousin Wickhams ever been to London? Imogen certainly remembered Mama telling her that they never travelled much. And London was so far from Newcastle!

In a opposite side of the house Effie Wickham was standing at the big window, looking into the dark grounds. The moon was illuminating the room, but she did not care to close the curtains. Amy and Katie were sleeping safely, cuddled up on these fancy pillows, their long locks spreading over the bed like an additional blanket. They would make a pretty picture for Gracie to draw, but Gracie was not here.

Effie missed her friends. She was not even gone for a week from Newcastle, had stayed less than day in this grand house, and she already wanted nothing more than to go home. Tomorrow was Tuesday, a day she usually spent talking Dmitry into taking them to the theatre or around town. She would doll up, using some of the lipstick she had lifted from one of the fancy shops. Or she could have gone to Gracie and help her go to the modiste, pulling out so many fabrics that Gracie laughingly bought her some yards and sometimes a new bonnet to top it. Or she could roam around alone, hoping to run into one of Jacks gentlemen friends. Amy always loved it, when she came home telling stories of gentlemen, even Mama did.

Somewhere far away she heard a clock gonging for three times. At home she could have seen the night guard crossing under her window now, but here, there was nothing outside. Just trees and flowers and grass wherever Effie looked.

What would the others think of Pemberley? Gracie would love the big gallery with all these terribly great paintings. She always talked about having one in Newcastle. Dmitry would hate being so far away from the theaters and clubs. Maybe all this country-side would remind him of Russia? He always said that land there was so wide and Effie had seen no wider land than the seemingly endless parts of Pemberley before. Jacks gentlemen friends would probably feel at home around here. Wasn't the latest even from some area like Derbyshire? And Jack? He would look so perfectly in place while probably scheming how to set a gambling circle up or how to make something more out of the small country bar the village nearby surely had.

He would make the best out of staying here and Effie was resolved to do the same. If she only would not feel so uncomfortable around her Darcy relatives and so lost in their grand house.

Her Uncle Darcy was downright frightening. He had barely said ten words to anyone at the dinner, sitting at the head of the dining table and looking grimly at all of them. Aunt Elizabeth was friendlier, but looked every part the grand lady. Gracie would surely approve of her dark green dress and Amy had admired the way Aunt Elizabeths hair was pinned and revolved to try something similar on Effie in the morrow.

Little Juno, as she seemed to be called, was a very animated child. She was almost tall for her age, had rosy cheeks and a healthy glow around her. She talked quite a lot. She was the exact opposite of Katie and it pained Effie to see such a drastic contrast between the girls of such similar age. Like Juno now, Katie had been a very vibrant child when she was a toddler. But after recovering from the Influenza two years back she had not been the same.

Effie sat down next to her sisters. Maybe Amy and her could Katie out on the morrow. The fresh country air would surely do her good. If Katie regained even half of her health, Effie would gladly stay in this blasted house for some more weeks.

Cousin Imogen had said something about the parks after dinner. They would probably need to go with her, even if Effie felt extremely uncomfortable doing so. Her cousin had not looked fun at all. Her clothes were too rich to be dirtied, her hair was braided like the hair of a little girl and the way she looked at Effies brothers had been less than polite. Cousin Imogen was probably terribly stuck up and conservative!

I apologize for the long delay in writing this chapter! I had to fight with some terrible case of writers block and an annoying cold - who else is tired of winter and ready for some sunshine and warmth finally? I did some research about dialects and wanted the Wickham boys to speak with a Geordie dialect but as I am no native englisch speaker I am not sure how to proceed with it. Has anyone of you some experience on that topic? I appreciate any help - even if you just tell me to stay away from trying it! And as always I would love to hear what you thought about this chapter so please review :)