by Olivia Kane
“Go on, Mamma,” Kitty urged.
“Mrs. Bennet, you have never had the honor of meeting Miss de Bourgh, but if I may describe her, she is the essence of gentility. She possesses a quiet manner and there is such civility in her speaking voice so that she never makes herself the object of attention. Due to her uneven health, she appears quite ill, but this is only a mirage, she is not bedridden. However, she is not much out in society either, preferring to stay at home under the watchful eye of her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, or traveling about in her curricle with her trusted footman.
And that is where the mischief began, for unbeknownst to all of us, Miss de Bourgh has been violently in love with this footman, whose name I cannot even bring myself to put to paper. Sadly, her mother’s attempts to solidify the union between the two cousins spurred Miss de Bourgh to act in a rash manner.
She slipped out in the curricle last Monday morning with only said footman for company. They continued out of the county and were well on their way for several hours before her absence was noted. When Miss de Bourgh did not return by dinnertime, Lady Catherine sent out a search party but it was ineffective at locating her. Sadly, all our fears were realized a week or so later when an express letter posted from Gretna Green arrived at Rosings, notifying us of their marriage. The betrayal at the hands of her daughter and her rogue footman has undone my patroness. To know that her daughter has been compromised and taken advantage of by this opportunist has broken her heart and her spirit.
My great lady is under extreme distress and needs constant companionship. She has let go of Mrs. Jenkinson for her carelessness and dismissed all of her footmen, for she is convinced that the affair between Miss Anne and he-that-shall-not-be-mentioned was well known to all. That not a single staff member had the courage to come to her and tell her the truth but instead joined in the concealment of said affair is the ultimate betrayal. Now she has the added burden of having to hire new footmen, which is of no pleasure to her.
We anticipate Miss de Bourgh’s return at some point in time as her access to money is quite limited and we cannot imagine that this wretched footman had much put away, but we do not know when to expect them. We are desperate to find her location but hold little hope as the world is large and there are many ill-reasoned people out there who will find her elopement “romantic” and will attempt to assist them.
Miss de Bourgh’s letter was loving in tone toward her mother but she was unrepentant regarding her decision to marry. This is just as well as forgiveness is a grace Lady Catherine does not possess at this point in time. As her spiritual advisor, I am there to counsel and to console and must be available to aid in the reprimand of Miss de Bourgh when she arrives home. I must now abandon all of my own selfish pursuits and devote myself entirely to her ladyship’s care. The idea of her former servant sitting beside her at her own table is shocking. Yet that is the world we now live in.
Please, tell your lovely Miss Mary I beg her forgiveness for abandoning my studies. I remain truly devoted to our courtship, but the good Lord now requires my energy be applied elsewhere. I beg your patience but do not anticipate being able to fulfill my promises that were so truthfully made by the expected six-month deadline. I request your patience and also your prayers for us all at Rosings at this truly terrible time.
Your humble servant, Mr. Collins.”
Lydia giggled. “How scandalous! To run off with a footman, no less. I imagine the footmen at Rosings must be very handsome and tall. Were they, Lizzie?”
“I did not notice,” Elizabeth confessed.
“How lucky is Miss de Bourgh! Oh to be so wealthy that one can marry down. How I envy her!” Kitty exclaimed.
“I saw no hint of this boldness in Miss de Bourgh. She was always so silent and rarely moved, even in the most animated of company,” Elizabeth noted. “Mr. Darcy must be so pleased. He has wriggled out of the engagement with no effort on his end,” she laughed. “That was a development I did not anticipate.”
“As he did not ever mention the engagement, I imagine he is well rid of her,” Mrs. Bennet said.
“But I wonder if he did not have some inkling of his cousin’s affections? He did mention to me once that Miss de Bourgh was often out in the curricle with the footman,” Elizabeth stated with a slight smile.
“As for you, Mary, your suitor has begged for your patience. Are you inclined to give it to him?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“As his first obligation is to his patroness I will gladly release him from his studies until the situation improves. Mamma, may I write to him and assure him of such?” Mary responded, no regret in her expression.
“Yes, you may. As we are now preoccupied with much more advantageous matches in our household, tell him there is no need to hurry back on our account. Ever,” she added, with a finality that brought much joy to her daughters.
Chapter 23
The next fortnight saw a flurry of activity at Longbourn. Ball gowns were fitted, bonnets freshly trimmed, and new silk stockings procured in anticipation of their upcoming stay at Weststoke Manor. As Westinham had journeyed to Netherfield in his own carriage, he and Lydia, along with Mrs. Bennet and Kitty, planned to travel to Derbyshire together. Elizabeth, Mary, and Mr. Bennet would follow in the Bennets’ coach. Mr. Darcy wrote to Mr. Bennet, saying he would be in residence and delighted to host their long-awaited fishing date and remembered to include Mr. Phillips in the invitation as well.
Soon the day of departure arrived and with much shouting by Mrs. Bennet and the last-minute procurement of forgotten items by the Bennet girls, they were loaded into the two carriages. After plentiful goodbyes to Hill and a stop in Meryton to pick up Mr. Philips, the procession to Derbyshire was underway.
As the hours passed, the initial excitement of the trip gave way to the drowsy afternoon. Good fortune was their companion as they reached each waypoint on schedule and dined and slept well in comfortable inns.
Elizabeth passed the time by reading and re-reading her new Grey’s Guide to Derbyshire Walking Paths, studying its sketches and maps. One or two trails near Weststoke promised spectacular vistas and she looked forward to the day when she would be standing on a tall hill with all of Derbyshire laid out before her.
As they entered the county, Elizabeth was suddenly overcome by a strange sensation of trespassing. A little voice in her head said that to come so near to Mr. Darcy’s home was to make herself vulnerable to his repeated advances. She prayed that managing Mr. Darcy’s expectations would not take away from her enjoyment of meeting Westinham’s family and celebrating Lydia’s engagement.
The long trip proved uneventful and soon the gatehouse to Weststoke Manor came into view. The carriages entered the drive and a rambling Tudor building, all peaked roofs and mullioned windows glittering in the sunlight, awaited them. As they approached, the travelers could clearly see the Earl of Westinham pacing before the front doors. Upon their carriages coming into sight, he sprinted down the steps to greet his beloved son and his intended. Lady Westinham followed, taking the stairs gingerly.
With a great flourish, the footmen opened the carriage doors and Westinham jumped out, affectionately greeting his parents. Lydia peeked out and hesitated, taking everything in. Westinham offered her his hand and gently guided her down the carriage steps and, after the necessary introductions were completed with great joy and energy, everyone moved en masse into the house.
Passing through the entry hall, they were led through an arched doorway into a fanciful drawing room with peacock blue walls, green silk upholstered settees and an abundance of fringe lining the curtains and cushions. Adjacent to the drawing room was a conservatory brimming with dark foliage and housing exotic birds in tall cages. There was a joyful eccentricity in Weststoke Manor that mirrored its occupants’ personalities. The earl and his countess were plump, delightful hosts, whose spirits were so high that even Mrs. Bennet’s exaggerated laughter was lost in the commotion. It took less than a minute for Elizabeth to conclude that Lydia wo
uld fit in nicely.
A bountiful tea service was laid out for the benefit of the weary travelers, with biscuits and scones and a delicate white cake with drizzled icing. Much excitement was made about the fact that Mr. Bennet was to fish at Pemberley the next morning, with the earl adding that he would be joining in the sport as well.
“Such lovely daughters, Mrs. Bennet! One of them must marry Mr. Darcy so we can all be neighbors,” the earl laughed.
“My Lizzie is already a great favorite of Mr. Darcy’s, but she will not have him! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Bennet said.
“Are we talking about Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? Our Mr. Darcy?” Lady Westinham exclaimed.
Elizabeth sighed and took a long sip of her tea before acknowledging, “Yes, I am quite sure that we are all speaking of the same Mr. Darcy, who seems to be a great favorite of everyone but me.”
“But he is the best of men!” the earl exclaimed.
“I have never considered the fact that Mr. Darcy would ever be refused,” Lady Westinham cried in response, studying Elizabeth as if she were mentally deranged.
“Who is that one young lady that is so desperate for him?” the earl asked of his son, guffawing at the recollection.
“Miss Caroline Bingley,” Westinham said flatly.
“Miss Bingley! That was her name. She was here with a large party last winter and seemed determined to hook him. Although I always say that it is Pemberley that she really loves.”
After tea was finished Mrs. Tucker, the housekeeper, was called to show the Bennets to their private quarters. Elizabeth was given a sizeable room, bright and airy. Her trunk was already delivered and unpacked, the windows cracked open, and a slight, warm breeze filled the room.
“You’ll get the best view of Pemberley in the morning from here,” Mrs. Tucker said, standing at the corner window.
“Pemberley? Why, can you see it?” Elizabeth came to stand next to her.
“Oh yes, ma’am. Right over that copse of trees to your left, you can glimpse its golden stone,” she replied, pointing. Far away in the distance was a building so grand that Elizabeth gasped.
“Yes, ma’am. That’s how we all feel about the beautiful Pemberley. And such wonderful neighbors and friends, I dare say too. I’ll expect you’ll be dining there at least once during your stay; the gentlemen are like brothers and do not like to be apart when in residence. They will be here for the engagement ball tomorrow night; you can plan on it. Now is there anything else I can get you for your comfort?”
“No, thank you. I am very well.”
Mrs. Tucker made a quick nod of her head and left Elizabeth to her thoughts.
Elizabeth stood at the windowsill and stared out at the glorious countryside bathed in vivid sunlight. Even from such a great distance, Pemberley’s façade seemed as imposing as its master and gave her pause. The idea that she had been issued an invitation to be the mistress of such a grand place and that she had turned it down seemed unreal to her.
Up until that moment, Pemberley had no form in her mind. But now, seeing it framed against Derbyshire’s rolling hills and abundant forests, it seemed to whisper to her.
Somewhere inside those walls was Mr. Darcy. He must know of her arrival there in Derbyshire and if he did, she wondered, did the news please him or wound him? She had refused his graciously offered invitation to visit Derbyshire, only to quickly accept Westinham’s instead.
It was not more than a quarter of an hour later that a rap on the door interrupted Elizabeth’s rest. She rose and upon opening the door beheld a ladies’ maid, who curtseyed and said, “You are Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“A letter for you from Pemberley House.” Flustered by the surprise delivery, Elizabeth took the letter and thanked the young maid, closing the door swiftly behind her.
She turned the letter over. The Darcy crest was impressed into the seal of navy wax. Her heart beat quicker. An invitation to Pemberley must be enclosed, she suspected, flattered at how rapidly it was issued. But did it come from Georgiana or Darcy? One invitation felt more innocent than the other. Breaking the seal, she unfolded the page and looked directly at the signature.
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
With both dread and excitement, she sat at the edge of the bed and began to read.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet,
Please accept my most heartfelt welcome to Derbyshire and my best wishes for your good health. Upon learning of your plans to accompany your family to Weststoke Manor, I was determined to write to you. Please forgive any perceived impertinence in my assumption that you would welcome a letter from me.
As we are likely to be in each other’s company during your stay, I wish to impart my sincerest wish that there be no awkwardness between us, and in order to facilitate that state of amicable relations, it is incumbent on me to issue you an apology.
Upon our first meeting, I remarked on your countenance. I was recently informed that you overheard these remarks. This discovery brought me great embarrassment as it was a hasty comment intended for my friend and felt untrue even as I said it. Be assured that for quite some time, I have considered you to be the most beautiful woman I know.
I now understand how, by my own words, I have disqualified myself from the honor of your friendship. I beg your forgiveness if you have the heart to issue it. I know I do not deserve it. But if it is granted, I will be forever grateful.
Your humble servant,
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Elizabeth sat still on the bed and held the letter while the world seemed to spin around her.
By my own words, I have disqualified myself from your friendship.
If he had never insulted her, might they have been friends, or maybe even more? Or if not friends, not always so disagreeable when together?
She sighed and wondered what to do next. Tomorrow night was the engagement ball for Lydia and Westinham and she was sure to see him. His letter would have to be answered, and she felt it must be done before they met tomorrow night or the awkwardness would be too much to bear.
But what to say and how to word it? Composing the perfect response would take time. How should she gracefully accept his apology without giving him hope that her feelings had, or would ever, change?
Folding the letter, she placed it in the bureau drawer and left the room. She said nothing of the note to anyone and its surprising contents kept her distracted for the remainder of the day.
Chapter 24
Much pondering and several failed attempts at penning the perfect reply occupied Elizabeth on her first morning at Weststoke. The men were fishing and her mother and sisters slept in, leaving her to her own devices. Unable to gather her thoughts in a way that pleased her conscience, Elizabeth grabbed her Grey’s guide in the hope of taking one of its shorter paths before trying again.
But upon exiting the manor she looked up to see a rolling bank of dark clouds heading her way. As English skies could be unpredictable, she retreated back into the house, choosing instead to limit her exploring to the back gardens so she could quickly seek shelter should the clouds open up.
The housekeeper offered a safe alternative. “If you follow the walk that leads out from the conservatory doors you will wind your way through some very pretty gardens,” said Mrs. Tucker. “Make sure to stop at the ornamental fountain; it’s a great favorite. Go a little further to the goldfish pond where you will see another path that connects us to Pemberley. It is a private way, so you will find you have it all to yourself. Follow the path as it ascends and at the top of the ridge there is a very nice view of Pemberley’s grounds and the house itself. Clearer from what may be seen out your window.”
“Ah, thank you,” Elizabeth said. She had no fear of meeting Mr. Darcy as he would be with the fishing party.
She followed Mrs. Tucker to the conservatory and exited through its glass doors, making her way through a dense garden resplendent with violets, climbing geraniums, and fat blue hydrangea. The morning a
ir was heavy with the scent of flora and the earthy aroma of the black soil beds. Elizabeth delighted in the charming feel of the garden. She passed towering, thick hedgerows and sculptures hidden in alcoves. In the distance was the fountain, nestled in a lily pond, and she made her way toward it.
Once the fountain was passed, she proceeded up the path as the housekeeper advised. Luckily, the rain held and though the temperamental sky deprived her of the morning sun, the moody atmosphere proved satisfying in its own way.
Continuing on at a slight ascent, Elizabeth anticipated that at any moment she would access the ridge and the promised view of Pemberley would be before her. She picked up her pace and with each step, more of the valley came into view until she reached the pinnacle and below her were the sloping green hills and the whole of Pemberley House. It was as impressive a residence as she was likely to see; its pleasing symmetry and careful placement on a small rise charmed her. She noted its natural fit in the landscape and was much impressed.
It was a natural resting spot and she stood there quietly, pondering Darcy’s letter. Of course, she would grant him the forgiveness he asked but then, with all forgiven, what would she have to hold against him?
She shook her head. Even his interference with Jane was immaterial at that point. His supposed crimes against Wickham were not as she first imagined, and she recoiled at the thought of the harm he sought to cause Georgiana. She considered the unreliable nature of first impressions, concluding she was a fool to trust Wickham so whole-heartedly.
She gazed wistfully at Pemberley for several minutes when suddenly her attention was diverted by two figures walking towards the ridge from the opposite direction—a finely dressed couple with their arms linked. The unexpected appearance of the strangers quickly disproved the housekeeper’s assertion that she would have the path to herself. Elizabeth nodded to the couple as they passed. As she did so, she thought she recognized the woman but could not place her.
