by Olivia Kane
But before she turned back to the view the woman cried out, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Do you not recognize me?”
The voice was unfamiliar, but the face was not. Then, in a dawning flash of recognition, Elizabeth exclaimed, “Miss de Bourgh?”
“Yes, it’s me. But I am no longer Miss de Bourgh. You must call me Mrs. Jameson now. May I introduce you to my husband, Mr. Henry Jameson?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Very pleased to meet you.”
“How do you do, Miss Bennet,” he bowed.
The footman, the source of much gossip, was a slender man with an unassuming air about him, sandy hair, and melancholy brown eyes. Transformed by his blue coat and his breeches, he gave off the appearance of a born gentleman. Hardly the rogue Mr. Collins described him as.
Her astonishment at meeting the former Miss de Bourgh on the path was amplified by the total change in her appearance. Gone was the grey pallor of the Rosings drawing room; her complexion was now the porcelain of a fine lady. Her previously thin frame, so ill-suited for long country walks, was replaced by a petite figure that appeared healthy and able.
“I am happy to run into you here, as Fitzwilliam told us of your family’s recent arrival in Derbyshire,” Anne said with a smile.
“Yes, we arrived yesterday. Lydia is to be married to Lord Westinham.”
“We heard the news. How delighted your parents must be.”
“Yes, quite.”
Anne paused and then said, “Miss Bennet, would you do us the honor of walking with us? We were just about to turn back when I recognized you.”
Elizabeth, more than curious to observe the infamous couple at leisure, agreed readily. The couple turned around and they all continued back toward Pemberley. Anne began to speak of the past month with no shyness. “I must be forthright with you, for I consider you a friend. You have heard of our elopement, I assume? I am sure the news was spread far and wide.”
“Yes, I am aware of it. May I wish you both my heartfelt congratulations.”
“Thank you. We are both very happy despite the knowledge that I have greatly disappointed my mother. But our union would never have had her blessing, as her heart was set on me marrying my cousin.”
“She did say as much to me when we were at Rosings. It is natural for her to be disappointed, however, perhaps her love for you will overcome those feelings?”
“In time, I do hope so. For now, I have no hope of her forgiveness. Such is the tone of the letters she has written to my cousins. Until then, I have the love and support of Fitzwilliam and Georgiana. He has offered Mr. Jameson and me a safe haven.”
Mr. Jameson added in a gentle, unassuming way, “Indeed, I cannot say enough about Darcy’s generosity. Without his support and encouragement, I dare say we would not have had the strength to break away and marry. He and Georgiana have generously hosted us since our return from Scotland.”
Hiding out at Pemberley! Oh, how furious Lady Catherine will be once the betrayal is revealed, Elizabeth thought.
“We have so much to thank Darcy for, but he insists that, as family, we are never to feel beholden,” Anne continued. “Miss Bennet, let me say that I am not surprised that you did not recognize me, as even I can tell that my appearance is much altered over these past weeks. But I believe a release from the constant anxieties of my mother and Mrs. Jenkinson has been most beneficial to my constitution, not to mention the feeling of love and acceptance that Mr. Jameson provides. I am more surprised than anyone at the unexpected alteration to my appearance.”
“Your beauty was always present,” Mr. Jameson said soothingly. “I saw it from the first.” He squeezed Anne’s hand tightly in support.
“You are too kind,” Anne cooed. “But the truth is, at home I was coddled and treated as if I were sickly and so sickly I was. Yes, I was once seriously ill as a child. I do not remember much of that time but, eventually, I recovered. My mother, it appeared, could not. But what I have come to learn lately, through Darcy's and Jameson’s steadfast encouragement, was that it took a strong constitution to survive as I did. They have forced me to alter the way I think about myself and in doing so I have thrived.”
“It is a wonderful outcome then,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, for me, it is. I have never known such sublime happiness,” Anne said.
“But does Lady Catherine, I’m sorry, I mean to say your mother, know that you are here at Pemberley? Does she know that Mr. Darcy is supporting you?”
“At present, she does not, yet I am not so naïve as to believe word of our whereabouts won’t get back to her,” Anne replied.
“We do not expect to be in her good graces again,” Mr. Jameson said plainly. “Nay, we may never return to Rosings in her lifetime. Mr. Darcy has been blunt with us regarding that fact and has graciously offered us residence at Pemberley for however long we require it.”
“How astonishing,” Elizabeth said. “A truly gallant move.”
“In every sense of the word,” he agreed softly.
“May I ask you something?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, anything. For I know of your goodness through my cousin. He speaks highly of you,” Anne said.
“Tell me, did Mr. Darcy know of your fondness for each other before your elopement?”
“Indeed he did. For although Mr. Darcy and I did not interact much in my mother’s company or in front of strangers, we were close. Neither of us wanted to be seen giving my mother any encouragement. But privately, we did meet often and I shared with him my feelings for Mr. Jameson. He encouraged me to trust my instincts. Knowing Jameson well, he would not discourage me. He was frank with me, as he knew very well the difficulties we would face in our union.”
Mr. Jameson added, “I knew I would never be accepted at Rosings in Lady Catherine’s lifetime, but Miss de Bourgh did not care. Darcy warned me that society would be slow to welcome us, if ever, but that he did not care for that type of society anyway, the kind that will turn on you when you go outside its dictates. Thus, out of love for his cousin, he encouraged us to elope as soon as possible and then come straight to Derbyshire afterward. We have been here ever since. I did not imagine him to be the kind of man who would go out of his way to help me but I am exceedingly grateful that he did. I will spend my lifetime trying to pay him back.”
“Indeed, Darcy aided us in our departure, writing ahead to the inns and ensuring our safe arrival in Gretna Green. After a week there, when we were ready to return, we were welcomed here and it has been the most blessed of times,” Anne said.
Elizabeth was overwhelmed by the details of their story, for the former Miss de Bourgh was truly changed. She thought of the cruel comments penned by Mr. Collins about the whole affair and shook her head in disgust at his pompous prejudice.
Realizing that she had walked further than intended and wary of entering into Darcy’s territory unexpectedly, Elizabeth sought to make her excuses.
“I’m afraid I must turn back now. I fear I have been gone too long, and that luncheon will be ready.”
Anne put her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Thank you for the pleasure of your company. We have been invited to Weststoke tonight for the engagement ball, and I look forward to seeing you then. I hope that you will call on us at Pemberley during your stay.”
“Thank you. I will call on you at Pemberley, I promise,” Elizabeth replied. She made a small curtsy and turned back.
She hardly remembered her return trip, the hedges and fountains and views whizzed by unnoticed. Her heart was full of Anne’s good news and of the part Mr. Darcy had played in it all.
Gone was the cold, uncivil man she had delighted in disliking. Nay, that seemed nothing but a simple caricature compared to the man whose unwavering kindness and wise counsel guided those he loved.
No wonder Georgiana defended him!
No wonder Bingley followed his lead!
What have I done? I have ignored any and all outward acts of goodness on his part in order to continue my perverse and rel
entless criticism of him. And what is my complaint? That he thinks himself above our society when he is, instead, a man truly not directed by society!
What good he has done for people by being his own man and not society’s man! And I have judged him by a mean, little standard, and he has been steadfast in the face of my disdain.
Oh, I have been so misguided and priggish in my demands of him; that he be what I thought he should be. And all I could see was a man worthy of belittling because he would not dance when I thought he should.
“Lizzie, Lizzie!”
The sound of her name caught her attention. Her father and Mr. Phillips stood at the back of Weststoke handing off their catch to the kitchen maids.
“My dear daughter, I’ve called your name several times. Where is your mind off to?” Mr. Bennet said laughing.
“I… I …” Elizabeth was at a loss for words.
Her father’s sharp eyes studied her. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Recovering her senses, she replied, “No, not a ghost. I saw Miss Anne de Bourgh or should I say the new Mrs. Jameson and her husband on the garden path. They were coming from Pemberley where they are staying.”
“What? The runaways are found?”
“It is truly a remarkable story, Pappa, and has left me in a bit of a muddle.”
“How so?”
Elizabeth blushed as she said, “I cannot hide anything from you. It concerns Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy?” His ears perked up. “Come, come, my dear. I must wash up and then we are expected at lunch. But afterward, let us sit together and you can tell me everything that is burdening you. How would you like that?”
“Indeed, Father, I would like that very much,” Elizabeth said smiling. “But first, I have a letter to write.”
Terrified that she had let her reply go too long, she hurried to her room where she penned a quick letter to Darcy.
Mr. Darcy,
All is forgiven.
Your friend,
Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
She wished that her letter had already been at Pemberley when Darcy came in from his morning of fishing. How cold she must seem to him to be so late with her response. How she must constantly wound him!
Quickly, she ran downstairs to find the footman, exhorting him to deliver her letter to Pemberley as soon as possible before she could change her mind.
Chapter 25
Westinham and Lydia, reunited after the morning’s fishing, set out immediately after luncheon to the village of Lambton. He was eager to show Lydia around and promised to buy her whatever she most liked from the local shops. Kitty and Mary were included in the fun and promised gifts as well.
In anticipation of the evening’s ball, Lady Westinham invited Mrs. Bennet to the garden to clip flowers to fill the many porcelain fretwork vases scattered amongst the house. So it was with great relief that Elizabeth and her father found themselves unneeded and retreated to a quiet corner of a small study he had procured for their talk. Seated comfortably before the small hearth with a crackling flame, Elizabeth described the events of the elopement as told to her, and she began to unburden her heart to him regarding her treatment of Mr. Darcy.
“Oh, Pappa. I feel that I have been unnecessarily harsh to a good man whom I did not fully understand. l behaved like a horrible toad. What do I do?”
Her father pondered her words.
“I am certain that Mr. Darcy holds no ill will towards you for your harsh words, as you like to put it. He asked after you today, ever so kindly. In fact, I believe his feelings towards you are all kindness.”
“Do you think so, really?”
“Yes, my dear. Now tell me. Is your heart changed toward Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth stared at her hands. She had asked herself that question many times that day.
“Yes, I mean, I think so. Oh, Father, I don’t know. Maybe I feel differently than I always have. But I have been so contrary, so purposely disagreeable, that I do not know how to behave naturally now in front of him, now that my prejudices are wilting away and I am left with only gratitude and pleasure at his notice of me.”
Mr. Bennet laughed.
“My dear, Mr. Darcy is a grown man. You have done him no great disservice by thinking contrarily to him.”
“Yes. I have always believed that. But my behavior, how should I act now?”
“If your feelings towards him have changed, well, speaking from a man’s perspective, it is always delightful to be on the receiving end of a smile or a kind word or even, I dare say, a heartfelt compliment.”
“And you believe that is enough to start over?”
“I believe that is the opening to a rapport that may lead to a friendship, if you so desire it? Do you desire a friendship with Mr. Darcy, Lizzy? Or do you desire something more?”
“I don’t know,” she stammered. “I … I … I need to think. Father, does my change of heart look too obvious?”
“Obvious, in what way, my dear?”
“That it should occur at the same time I see Pemberley? Won’t he think me mercenary? I mean, I would be a fool not to be impressed by Pemberley, but if you had been there to hear Mr. Jameson speak of Darcy’s many kindnesses toward him your heart would be melted too.”
Mr. Bennet put his chin in his hands and stared out the window in thought.
Finally, he said, “My dear, Pemberley is famous for its beauty. I honestly believe there is not a young lady in ten counties who would have rejected Mr. Darcy and Pemberley the way you have for, of course, everyone is more than aware that one does not come without the other. You could have married him for Pemberley sight unseen months ago. He knows this. I think it adds to your appeal.”
“But I must confess, it is more beautiful than I imagined it. I wish that … “ her voice trailed off, lost in thought.
“Dear Lizzie, do not be too hard on yourself. Trust your good instincts. Now get busy, go into town and meet your sisters or get some fresh air. I dare say you will see Mr. Darcy at the ball tonight and all will be well.”
“Oh, thank you, Father.” Lizzie stood up and threw her arms around her father’s neck and hugged him. “I want to meet him with no awkwardness. I will inquire after his health and his sister’s health and talk of nonsense. I may even ask him to dance and accept his rejection, if it should happen, with equanimity.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Now that the skies are clear, I think I will pass on going to town in favor of taking one of the walking paths in Derbyshire from my new Grey’s guide. Do you care to accompany me, Father?”
“How I would love to! But I anticipate a late night tonight, and we rose early to fish. I plan to nap away the afternoon. But tomorrow, Lizzie, I promise to join you. Pick out a trail from your book for us to take together and we will spend the afternoon exploring everything the Peak District has to offer.”
Thusly satisfied, Elizabeth bolted upstairs to grab her guide. Two nearby paths tempted her, both routes passing through either the Westinham or Darcy properties, ensuring friendly territory. She sat at the edge of her bed, reading the descriptions and deciding which to take that afternoon and which to save for tomorrow. The route near Lambton was lauded for its even terrain and proximity to the river, offering glimpses of waterfowl. Her father would enjoy that, she thought. The second boasted a more rugged terrain and promised a cavern or two. She thought her father would fare better on the even terrain, and as her neighborhood in Hertfordshire offered no caverns, she decided to take that route first.
It was not a long walk—one hour there and another back. A note in the text from Mr. Grey even advised that the young and elderly might tire on that path’s steady inclines, but for the able-bodied and the adventurous, the views were sure to delight. She would have plenty of time to complete the walk and get herself ready for the evening’s ball.
She asked Mrs. Tucker if a small basket of refreshments could be supplied to her and it was readily provided. With her Grey’s tu
cked firmly in her pocket and her boots tied tightly, she set off.
Chapter 26
The route to the cavern was glorious and Elizabeth congratulated herself on choosing it. She found the pathways clearly marked and the maps in her Grey’s guide accurate to a point. She had never walked independently in a foreign county with only a book to guide her, but Grey’s guide was so renowned, so well-trusted, that she walked confidently.
At one point, two paths converged but Grey’s clever observance of crooked trees and unusually shaped boulders as landmarks kept her on track. She had no propensity to over think her situation with Mr. Darcy on the walk, so taken was she by the sun-bathed views. The swaying trees, the rolling hills, and the blank stares of the sheep she passed along the way fed her soul.
After reaching the end of her route and exploring the dark little cavern, she found a flat rock and stopped there to rest. Mrs. Tucker had wrapped up a slice of vanilla cake from the previous day’s tea and tucked in a flask of lemonade. Elizabeth ate and drank it all while watching puffs of cloud chase each other across the bright Derbyshire sky.
Fully rested, she tucked the cloth back into the basket and reversed course toward Weststoke. Her thoughts turned to her preparations for the ball, wondering how to wear her hair. She realized that in her distraction over the morning’s events, she had forgotten to request that her ball gown be pressed. Now she would have to hunt down a lady’s maid to help her out, which might prove difficult as her mother and sisters were known to be demanding when preparing for a ball and selfish with the maids’ time.
To appear before Mr. Darcy hoping to start anew with a gown full of wrinkles would not be the worst of fates. How she would be laughed at by Miss Bingley if she were there! Thankfully, Miss Bingley was long gone from their society.
She was halfway down the path when she came to the intersection and sunk her hand in her pocket to consult the Grey’s but her pocket was empty; the book was gone.
“Oh, goodness!” she exclaimed. She glanced backward on the path, hoping it had slipped out unnoticed but there was no book.
