“Has he gone to read?” Sarah asked Elizabeth. “Are we such dull company?”
“No, he merely intends to deal with all the papers and matters that his steward will have left for him regarding the estate and affairs at Pemberley. Mr. Darcy will not want to be engaged on business when the Bingleys are here; he will want to take out a gun, not to be sitting at his desk. We shall go and sit in the red salon, where we may be comfortable and you can tell me why you do not welcome Lord Winterbourne’s suit. I know him slightly, he seems a most agreeable man. But of course, one does not marry a man because he is agreeable.”
Sarah sat back on a sofa, her feet tucked up beneath her in a way that would have had her mama shrieking with horror, and said, “Lord Winterbourne is naturally domestic, of an excellent character and perfectly good-tempered. No woman could want for a better husband, but I think such a man deserves a better wife than I would ever be to him. However, I have known him most of my life and I am sincerely attached to him, and so in the end I think, Why not? I must marry, I suppose, in due course, and with my sisters–” she ended with a sigh.
She didn’t need to complete the sentence, for Elizabeth was well aware of the difficulties between her and her stepmother.
She went on. “Papa will be back soon, and I know that it will be much easier for him to take Mama’s part in this matter. He wants to see me married well, and he, like everyone else, considers his lordship a most eligible suitor now that he has come into the title and fortune. Given that I have no great objections to Lord Winterbourne, I feel I should accept him, although–”
“Although?” Elizabeth said.
“Although I am not entirely sure I want to accept him.” Another sigh. “How much I envy you, Lizzy. In my cousin Darcy you found a man who suits you in every way, and when I come to Pemberley it is so pleasant and comfortable and exactly the kind of home a woman might wish for. It is just such a home as Winterbourne can offer me. Your life is an altogether pleasant one and I ask myself, why should my life not be like that? Lord Winterbourne is a man of character and position, and now he has come into a great estate I would have all the material things a woman could wish for, and yet–” She looked pensively into the flames before continuing, “And yet I do not love him. I have a great affection for him, I admire and respect him, and I love him as a dear friend, but I don’t love him as one should love a husband.”
“That is a problem indeed. Is there no other man, perhaps without such a position or fortune, whom you do feel you could love in that way?”
Sarah looked up and smiled, laughing herself out of her gloomy mood. “You are tactfully asking if I am fallen in love with some half-pay officer or anything like that. No, I am not in love with any of the men who would be willing to offer for me, and there are quite a number of those, I do assure you. I do not say so out of any vanity or pride or false esteem of myself, but any young woman in my situation is always going to have men who want to marry her for one reason or another.”
“I know of at least two men whose affection for you has been sincere, indeed passionate. You are capable of arousing very strong feelings in the opposite sex. Has no man ever touched your heart?”
Sarah shook her head. “Had you met any other man that you felt you might marry, before you became engaged to Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth replied, “Oh, I met men that I was happy to flirt with, but no, my heart was not deeply touched until I fell in love with Mr. Darcy. We cannot all perhaps be so fortunate, and yet I do feel that somewhere there must be a man who would suit you in every way. Is it really so, have you never been in love?”
Sarah shook her head.
She lied.
Chapter Two
The children were brought down from the nurseries and Sarah played blind man’s buff with them. The game ended up with them so thoroughly over-excited that Elizabeth had to put a stop to their antics and summon their nurse. This nurse had been with the family for many years and had been nursemaid to Mr. Darcy’s younger sister; she felt well able to speak her mind, and did so. “High time Lady Sarah was married with children of her own. She should know better than to get them so hot and bothered.”
“It is only her sense of fun, and the children did enjoy the romp,” Elizabeth said.
That earned no more than a sniff in reply, and the tired and dishevelled children were led away to the quieter realms and discipline of the nursery. Tea was brought; Mr. Darcy joined them once more; the evening came to an end.
Sarah took her candle and went upstairs to her bedchamber, where her maid, Tindall, was waiting for her. Half an hour later, Sarah was in bed. At the door, Tindall held up the gown she had just taken off. “Look at this greasy spot, my lady, whatever is it?”
“Soup,” said Sarah, inspecting it with a sleepy eye. “I was laughing so much at some witty remark my cousin made that I dropped my spoon and it splashed.”
“You ought to be more careful. Now, don’t go reading in bed and hurting your eyes, you need a good night’s sleep by the look of you.”
Tindall had been her mother’s maid and, Sarah reflected as she lay back in the familiar, comfortable four poster bed, she would probably forever treat her though she were still ten years old. She said, “Leave the bed curtains drawn back, there is no need to shut out the night here in the country.”
She yawned, blew her candle out and lay for a moment, listening to the sounds of the countryside that came in even with the shutters closed. A breeze rustling through the trees, an owl hooting, a sheep baaing. She had a great sense of relief at being here and no longer in London. She had escaped from the oppression of family life, escaped from her stepmother’s sharp tongue and the mixture of threats and cajoling constant good sense, endlessly reminding her that she must be aware of her duty, must be aware of the fate that lay ahead for young women who turned down suitable matches.
Here at Pemberley she felt safe, as she always had done. She could expect no recriminations or harsh judgements from her cousin Darcy, nor from Elizabeth. Here was tranquillity, here no eyes watching her, no rumours came snaking in via the eager tongues of London society. Just the pleasant companionship of people she knew and liked, and who knew and liked her for what she was, not what she ought to be.
There would be nothing to disturb her spirits. She could get back into her skin and feel at ease once more. She need not think about Lord Winterbourne, nor about the decision that must be made. In the end, no doubt, she told herself with another yawn, she would probably marry Lord Winterbourne, and she supposed they would be as happy as many other couples. He was a kind and estimable man; it would be his concern and his duty to make his wife happy.
People did marry when they were not in love. Perhaps they fell in love later, or perhaps those who did marry in love then repented as passion dwindled into indifference. Marriage was such a strange state. Certainly she had an example of true matrimonial happiness here in front of her at Pemberley. How often did marriages turn out so well, though? Was the Darcys’ union not the exception rather than the rule?
Still a girl when Darcy and Elizabeth married, she had been well aware of the amazement at the inequality of the match. So many spiteful comments, so many prophecies of doom. Her aunt, Lady Catherine, had been beside herself with rage and fury that Mr. Darcy had rejected her daughter, Anne, and married a nobody. Elizabeth had brought no great name, no fortune, nothing except her own clever and delightful self, which Mr. Darcy felt was more than enough–as indeed it was.
She had a good idea of what the next days would bring. Tomorrow she would pass a day just as would best please her in her present mood: talking and walking with Elizabeth, enjoying conversation with Mr. Darcy when he emerged from his papers, playing with the children. The day after, the Bingleys would arrive. The gentleman would shoot, the ladies would spend those hours together. And when she grew restless, she would go for a vigorous walk in Pemberley’s extensive grounds–no need to have a maid or footman accompany her–or ride out on one of he
r cousin’s horses.
Her mind drifted to London and her life there. In due course her sisters would recover from the measles, and her father would come back from abroad. Her father might recall she had had the measles as a child. She must hope he wouldn’t say so to Mama. If he did, why, when she was back in London she would shrug and say, “Oh, did I indeed have the measles?
Chapter Three
Sarah’s prediction of spending her time at Pemberley in tranquil chat interspersed with vigorous exercise seemed likely to be fulfilled. The morning passed in easy conversation and then she had a horse saddled and went out for a ride. In the afternoon, Mr. Darcy emerged from the estates office, announced he had had enough of poring over maps and leases and proposed a walk. The children, delighted to be with their father, frisked about him, their puppy barked and gambolled, hoops were rolled, laughter rang across the lake.
The little party was returning in this happy mood when their attention was caught by the sound of a carriage approaching along the drive.
“Oh, no,” cried Elizabeth. “Visitors, just when we were so comfortable. Goodness, who can it be in a curricle, with such fine horses?”
“I should know those horses,” said Mr.. Darcy. “I do believe–”
Sarah, lagging behind the others to keep an eye on the puppy who was chasing a butterfly, did not wait to hear him out. She had instantly recognised the matched greys as belonging to Lord Winterbourne, just as she recognised the military-looking man who was driving the horses.
Lord Winterbourne, here, how could this be?
Even as she gathered up the protesting puppy and ran towards a copse set a little away from the path they were on, she knew the answer to the question. This was her mama’s doing. Lord Winterbourne must have paid a call on her in London, as he had promised to do after spending some time in Sussex with friends. That was one of the considerations that had sent her flying to Pemberley, in case he should be intending to declare himself and she would be obliged to give him an answer before she was ready to do so.
He must have made the call, found her stepmother at home, and been given the news of her sudden departure to Derbyshire. Then, drat the man, instead of going about his affairs in London, he had taken it into his head to come to Pemberley. She must be the cause of his visit. He was not a particular friend of Mr. or Mrs. Darcy, he would not descend upon them unasked merely for the pleasure of their company. No, he had come to seek her out.
She dashed through the trees and made her way round to the back of the house, her heart beating and a general and ridiculous anxiety driving her on. It was absurd to run away, how could she hope to evade him? Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth would wonder at her sudden disappearance, a servant would be sent to find her and then she must go into the house and allow Lord Winterbourne to explain why he had come.
As if she didn’t know.
She took refuge in one of the hot-houses a little way from the house and, closing the door behind her, set the puppy down. He ran to and fro, nose down, little tail wagging, relishing all the strange and exciting smells of the place.
Agitated, she walked up and down among the palms and the fragrant flowers, wishing her suitor at the South Pole. Yet he was still her old friend, a man with whom she had never until recently felt other than completely at ease.
Why had he decided to ask for her hand? There had never been anything of the amorous about their relationship, and there was no particular new strength of feeling that she could see in him.
Was it simply that, having to give up his army career upon coming into title and fortune, he felt he ought to marry and set up his nursery? She couldn’t believe that he had fallen passionately in love with her. She could not claim to have more knowledge of the male half of humanity than most young women, but she had had her flirtations, she had watched her friends fall in and out of love, she had seen her brothers courting and choosing wives. None of this knowledge helped her at all to understand Winterbourne’s decision.
Meanwhile, Lord Winterbourne had been made welcome by the Darcys and was handing over the reins to the groom who came running from the stables. While he was giving his instructions, Mr. Darcy drew Elizabeth to one side, and said, “I suppose it is natural that a man in love would come to find the object of his affections, but from what she was saying to us last night, I am not sure that Sarah will welcome this attention from Lord Winterbourne. Has she said anything more to you on this subject?”
“It’s unfortunate that he has taken it upon himself to visit here, when she came to us to escape from him. She is under a good deal of pressure from her mother to accept an offer from him, but she told me that although she holds him in great esteem and affection, she is not in love with him.”
“Some marriages may work on a basis of affection and mutual esteem, but I do not believe such a match would suit Sarah.” He shrugged. “I must ask him to stay, I suppose; I cannot do otherwise. He tells me he intends to put up at the inn at Lambton, but of course we cannot allow him to stay there. No, he must come here and make his declaration, if that is what he intends, and Sarah must decide whether to accept him or no.”
“I suppose you are right and we are obliged to have him as a guest. It is a great shame, however, for it will be uncomfortable for Sarah. I wonder where she has got to, did she hurry into the house?”
“No, said Mr. Darcy, laughing. “She picked up her heels and ran for cover as soon as she saw who it was in the curricle. But I dare say I know where she may be found. You take Winterbourne into the house, and I will go and flush her out.”
Chapter Four
Footsteps. How could they have found her so quickly? Here no doubt was a servant, come to fetch her in.
It wasn’t a servant; it was Mr. Darcy. He approached Sarah, looking grave, but seeing her troubled face, smiled. “I guessed you might be in here, I know it is a favourite place of yours. How often you have retreated here with a book, happy to be alone among the plants. I suppose you ran away because you saw it was Lord Winterbourne who arrived in the curricle. It seems that he has business on his estates in Yorkshire and so, obliged to travel north, made a detour to call upon us.”
“Since when has Derbyshire been on the way to Yorkshire?”
“It is not, but your mother told him you were here. He wishes to see you.”
“And I wish to avoid him.”
“Given his arrival here, that seems impossible. Unless you plan to creep around to the stables and ride off into the sunset. It will not do, you know. Lord Winterbourne is an honourable man, and I am sure sincere in his intentions and affections. You owe it to him to hear what he has come to say.”
“I owe him nothing,” Sarah said resentfully and then, seeing her cousin’s raised eyebrows, went on, “Oh, very well, I will see him. He can say what he has to say and then he may take himself off.”
“I am afraid it is not so simple. He will stay here as our guest, if only for one night. No, do not look daggers at me, how could I leave him at the inn?”
“Easily, all you had to do was hold your tongue.”
He laughed. “You do not mean it, you would not have me guilty of such a breach of good manners. Come, we shall go into the house together, and I will make sure I stay at your side until you have collected yourself and feel you can face him alone.”
Mr. Darcy was as good as his word, aided in his good intentions by Elizabeth, who approved of this act of goodwill towards his cousin. So Sarah was able to pass the rest of the afternoon and evening in a calmer state. At dinner, a chance remark of Lord Winterbourne’s about some shared childish scrape and the laughter that followed restored the ease of their long-standing friendship. So when by chance they were later alone together in the library, each of her cousins having left the room under the impression that the other would be there directly, she was able to talk to him like a rational being.
His proposal was direct and honest. His circumstances had, as she knew, undergone a startling change. He felt the need for a wife to share
his new life and he could think of no one he would rather spend his life with than Sarah. He spoke of affection and ties and everything that was proper, and Sarah honoured him for not pretending to be in love with her. She looked at him with affection, appreciating his delicacy. His frank, open expression, the liveliness of his countenance, her knowledge of how good a man he was, all made her feel that perhaps marriage to him would be a more than sensible choice.
He took her hands in his. “I do love you Sarah, and I dare hope you feel something of the same for me. I am aware that your life at present is not an easy one, and I think you would be glad to be have the opportunity to make a new life in your own home.”
She replied, after a moment’s hesitation, “You speak of love, but not of being in love. No, do not pretend, dear friend, to a passion you do not feel. May I ask you a question?”
“Certainly.”
“Is there no one you feel a tenderer sentiment for?”
A long pause, and then he said, “There was, but that is all in the past now.”
Not so much in the past that she couldn’t hear the sadness in his voice.
“I might ask the same of you,” he said with an earnest look of enquiry. “I know there is a long list of your rejected and dejected suitors. Did you never fall in love with any of them? Ah, I know you well enough to see that you did.”
“Once, perhaps. A long time ago. I was very young and it would not do.”
He seemed to be about to say more, but Sarah, by a quick pressure of her hand, prevented him. “I am truly sensible of the honour you do me in asking me to marry you. May I have a while to think about your offer? Let me sleep on it, as the saying is, and then tomorrow I will give you my answer.”
Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure Page 8
