by Anna Harlow
“My hope of ever being more to that gentleman than his friend must preclude me from honoring any such sentiments,” Elizabeth replied dismally. “Nothing I see here is ever likely to be a permanent delight.”
Her aunt subsided at this, but it was clear by her expression that she maintained an internal dialogue of the thoughts which were simply not shared. The carriage traversed along a cobblestone road from the main gate to a large courtyard where they were able to park and ask the footmen who came out to them about the possibility of a tour.
“Yes, of course, Pemberley—or at least parts of it—is at your disposal,” said one of them. “I shall inform Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, of your desire. I am certain she will be a most willing guide. And she is most excellent in that capacity, as she has been here nearly twenty-five years and is well versed in every history within, from the furniture to the people. You could not ask for better.”
“What a delight to hear,” Mrs. Gardiner said amiably. “May we examine the courtyard while we await her?”
“By all means. Timmons, do bring these good people to have a look at the smaller fountain. I shall return to you directly.”
“Very good, sir,” the younger footman agreed, and shortly led them through a small opening in the stone fence to one side. Within they found a delightful fairyland, complete with statuary and flowers meant solely to delight.
“It is no wonder Darcy prefers gardens, if this is only the beginning of what we shall find here,” Elizabeth commented dryly, though only loud enough for her aunt to hear it. That lady smiled in amusement, but offered no observation of her own, for she was too busy gasping with each new discovery as they followed dutifully behind their temporary guide.
The other footman returned. “I am to bring you in to Mrs. Reynolds directly. If you will follow me?”
Elizabeth was ill prepared for the sights that soon met her eyes. Pemberley Manor was a dream; the furnishings in the foyer alone must be more expensive than anything she had found at Rosings, and yet so much more tasteful in appearance as to be difficult to believe. The armoire into which their hats, gloves, and coats were place was large and roomy, and sported drawers as well as hangers to house the things.
“What a charming receptacle,” Elizabeth said, sighing. She could not help herself as her mind went off into a visualization of just what it would be like if she could make use of it every time she came home. And as they walked through into the main sitting room, in her mind she could visualize also the handsome face of Mr. Darcy entering their home after he had been out and about for the day, while she herself was seated in the comfortable chair she spied near the hearth, waiting for him. Neither could she suppress the expectation that, should they happen to be alone, that her husband would kiss her in greeting.
It cannot be thus, Elizabeth thought. And the fault is all my own.
They moved on to examine small alcoves, a vast library, as well as a smaller one meant for more private use, and a dining hall and ballroom meant for entertaining, along with smaller, separate rooms for the family. Elizabeth could barely seem to breathe. Her longing to share this glorious place with Darcy abounded, leaving her heart hammering.
In every nook and cranny, she could feel his presence. Her body reacted in a remembrance of how she had felt when he touched her, of how she felt whenever she held his letter—that forbidden sheaf of papers he had been compelled to give her.
She saw all that she had refused, all the potential for years of happiness here, and despaired. How could she have been so foolish? What could she have meant by it? Was there no possibility of gaining his forgiveness, of being given the chance to change her mind?
“And this room is the main parlor,” Mrs. Reynolds said as she led them in. “In the summer, it is barely used, for there is a much nicer room for use during the hotter months. However, most of the winter months are spent in here. Only see how large is the hearth. Can you not imagine it with a roaring fire and good company to keep the place warm and cozy? I can remember many happy winters spent in here, especially when the current master was but a small boy. And oh, he was the sweetest boy, with the gentlest of tempers. I have often observed that those who are sweet as children often grow up to be the sweetest and best of men, and the master is one of the best men I have ever known. He has turned out every bit as kind and benevolent as his father.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “I cannot imagine Mr. Darcy as a small boy.”
“Does the young lady know Mr. Darcy?” she asked, surprised.
“A little.” She shrugged.
“Do you not find him to be a most handsome gentleman?”
“Oh yes, very handsome indeed,” she agreed. She felt somewhat distracted by the older woman’s tales, but the small boy she could clearly visualize in the room was not a small Darcy, but rather a small boy who had some resemblance to both the gentleman and herself. Try as she might to stop envisioning herself bearing his children, the dream persisted, and was far from unpleasant in her estimation.
“There is a very good likeness of him in the gallery, if the others would care to see him,” she added thoughtfully.
“Oh yes, I am quite curious to have a look,” Mrs. Gardiner agreed.
Mrs. Reynolds led them up a flight of stairs and down a long hall, at the end of which she threw open a pair of double doors. When the group stepped inside, they saw that they had entered what amounted to another long hall, only this time with pictures of all sizes hanging along the walls. And in the middle of the room were couches and chairs interspersed with plenty of statuary for those who might wish to linger there.
“This is a most excellent art gallery,” Elizabeth complimented it.
“It is,” Mrs. Reynolds agreed. “Come, the likeness of my master is over here. It was taken about eight years ago, while old Mr. Darcy yet lived. Those were the happiest of times!”
The three followed her over and had a look at the painting, which showed Darcy standing before a large tree with a dog at his heels. Elizabeth stood transfixed by the likeness and found herself longing desperately for the original. The smile that touched the lips on the image too closely matched her last memory of his face, and it was more than she could possibly bear.
“Aunt, I do not believe I wish to view more of the gallery now,” she said, swallowing hard and averting her face so they would not see the tears that gathered at the sides of her eyes. “I am very much in need of a walk about the grounds. You will not mind if I step outside, surely, Mrs. Reynolds?”
“Oh, indeed not, miss,” she agreed. “There is a lovely garden just outside if you but go down the stairs and straight across to the back door. And the loveliest fountain can be found there. It used to be one of Mrs. Darcy’s favorite haunts before her daughter came along to end her days. Yet I cannot complain of that, for Miss Georgiana is the sweetest young girl who ever lived, and no mistake.”
“Thank you, madam,” Elizabeth replied. “And at that fountain we shall meet, whenever the two of you are done here. But you do not need to hurry. You know how much I enjoy taking some time on my own.”
“Lizzy, is it still so painful?” asked Mrs. Gardiner with a concerned frown.
“I am perfectly fine,” she lied. “I simply need a bit of the sun on my face.”
Mrs. Reynolds, being a very astute woman, did not inquire in any way about the aforementioned pain, for which Elizabeth was quite grateful. She stole one last look at the painting and then hurried out the far door which took her right to the top of the staircase. At its bottom, she easily spotted the door and went outside.
The garden was a true delight, but Elizabeth was too distressed to take any real notice of its beauty. She knew that she ought not to have allowed herself to entertain quite so many fantasies while she had toured Pemberley, for surely those thoughts had only fueled her reaction upon seeing a most beloved face.
Beloved? Yes, though she had tried her best to forget Mr. Darcy, her heart was much too stubborn to do so. While she had believed
Darcy would never offer for her, she had been able to ignore and dismiss her pangs quite admirably, and she longed for the ability to continue on in such a way. Yet knowing of his feelings toward her had battered down every defense of her heart, and now she had fallen in love.
The fountain at the end of the long path was much larger than Elizabeth could possibly have imagined, spanning at least twenty paces across, and sporting at its center the likeness of an angel holding up an ewer from which the water poured into the pool again. The splashing sound calmed her somehow, and she sat upon the edge and stared into the rippling waves, feeling comforted.
Beyond the edge of the fountain was a clear view of an incline leading down to the vast lake that spanned a great portion of the property, with an expanse of brilliant green lawn covering the field all the way to the berm. So, when a rather wet, half-clothed gentleman emerged from the pristine water, the event was rather noticeable.
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth gasped, gaping at him in devastated and delighted surprise.
“I see angels are falling from the sky again,” he said, smiling. “Perhaps that is the key I have been seeking. I need to go swimming more often.”
She flushed. “Pray, forgive me, sir, but I was told you would not be here. I—we—um, Jane has come with Mr. Bingley to meet his mother, since they have become engaged, and she wanted me to come into Derbyshire with her. Today, my aunt and uncle learned Pemberley was open to the public and could not resist having a look.”
“I heard of the engagement from Bingley, but did not realize you had left Longbourn. And are you having a pleasant trip?” he asked, his cheeks slightly reddened at the casual direction of her eyes, which drifted over his tantalizing anatomy before she managed to stop herself.
“I am,” she said, forcing her gaze away. “We have viewed several great houses, including that of the Duke of Marlborough. My aunt very much enjoys examining old architecture. But I do not understand, sir, why you are here. The housekeeper assured us your party would not arrive until tomorrow, or we should never have intruded. Of course we shall leave immediately.”
“Pray, do nothing of the sort, my dear,” he pleaded. “I must change my clothes, but I wish very much to meet your aunt and uncle before you depart. Will you not await my return?”
“I—yes, if that is your desire,” she said, shocked by his interest in meeting members so far below his own class. “They are to find me at this fountain soon.”
“Return with them to the foyer,” he suggested. “I should easily find you there.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Elizabeth couldn’t determine if she was elated that Darcy was there or annoyed that he had somehow managed, with a minimum of words, to take complete control of the situation as per usual. “Master Will” was right! Her independent spirit balked at this, even as her heart thrilled to have another opportunity to be annoyed.
She could not understand why her feelings were in such a turmoil. Darcy was just a man, like any other, and yet for some reason, every time she drew near him, her whole body thrummed with a nervous tension she could not understand.
“I am excessively pleased to know your friend has asked after us, Lizzy,” said Mr. Gardiner, smiling most happily. “I would not have expected such condescension, to meet common folk like us. Surely, it is only because we are so connected to you and he hopes in some way to make amends for your quarrel in such a manner.”
“I am at a loss myself,” Elizabeth admitted, though she blushed at his suggestion.
“Here I am,” Darcy called as he joined the party. “I am sorry to keep you all waiting. I hope that Elizabeth has explained my desire to greet you two personally?”
“She has, sir, and it is a most unexpected pleasure,” said Mrs. Gardiner as she shook his hand. “We are most honored by your attentions.”
“Am I addressing Mrs. Phillips or Mrs. Gardiner?” he inquired with an affable smile.
“Forgive me, sir,” said Elizabeth as she stepped to his side. “This is my Aunt Gardiner, and her husband, Mr. Gardiner—a sibling of my mother’s. Mrs. Phillips is the other of her siblings, and currently in Meryton as per usual.”
“Mrs. Gardiner, it is a delight to meet you,” Darcy said, then turned to Mr. Gardiner as well. “And you, sir. You appear to me to be the sort of man who enjoys being outdoors.”
“Indeed, I am, sir,” Mr. Gardiner replied. “Though it is not so easily done in Town, as it is out in the country. If ever I made my fortune somehow, I should surely bring my wife back out here, to the place where she was born and raised. For Derbyshire is one of the most beautiful places in the world.”
“You shall certainly get no disagreement from me, and if she was raised here, I dare say your wife also shall make no objection, sir,” Darcy said, smiling. “Miss Elizabeth? What do you think of this part of the world?”
“It is most agreeable, sir,” she replied. She could not tell if he asked her just to draw her into the conversation, or if he was sincerely hopeful that she had fallen in love with his house and grounds. Admittedly, she had fallen in love with the place, though she was certainly not going to tell him so.
“Sir, since Bingley has come here with members of his upcoming family, and he is my best friend, I wonder if you might wish to return to Pemberley with him tomorrow, for he is certain to come to visit me straightaway. Perhaps all the gentlemen might go fishing together, for the residents at the bottom of my lake have laid undisturbed for far too long.”
“That would be exceeding enjoyable, sir,” said Mr. Gardiner, pleasantly surprised by his offer. It left Elizabeth extremely surprised as well.
“Wonderful,” Darcy said. “I will leave you to extend the offer to him this evening, and if all parties are willing, we shall want to start in the early morning. That is the way to get the best catch possible. And, Lizzy, if it be agreeable to you, I shall ask all the ladies to come by in the afternoon so you can help eat the efforts of the day.”
“Very agreeable indeed, sir.”
“And if I may be so bold, my dear, I wondered—would it be too much to ask of you—if you would be willing to meet my sister?”
“Your sister?” she repeated on a little gasp. “Sir, I should be well pleased to make her acquaintance. I thank you for the offer.”
“Excellent.” He smiled. “Though I must warn you that she is anxious to see you at last, after I have spoken of you to her at great length. I pray you will not mind her exuberance, as it is not much under my regulation.”
Elizabeth chuckled at this. “I cannot imagine the tales you must have imparted to have her thus inspired. But I promise you, sir, I will not notice if she becomes too bold.”
“You should be told that another person of your acquaintance shall soon be here,” he added, though with a slight frown. “Colonel Fitzwilliam should arrive sometime this evening.”
Now Elizabeth blushed, remembering how Darcy had last spoken to her of his cousin. She hoped he did not believe she would continue to show partiality to that gentleman now that there was no need. And what of Fitzwilliam himself? Would he cease flirting with her at Pemberley? Had he not said himself that he wished to stop and to allow her and Mr. Darcy to work everything out? Would he now be a willing accomplice to that end instead?
“Sir, we have had a most enjoyable afternoon, but I believe it is about time for us to return to the inn,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“You are at the inn?” Darcy asked, and his frown was somewhat annoyed.
“Yes, for Mr. Fisher has taken to his bed almost exclusively, and the doctors hold out little hope that he shall be alive by the end of this year,” said Mr. Gardiner gravely.
“Mrs. Fisher most understandably did not wish for him to be disturbed by a great deal of company, and so the Bingley siblings agreed that they should be quiet as church mice, and the rest of us believed we would be more comfortable elsewhere,” added Mrs. Gardiner sympathetically. “I will be the first one to admit that quiet is one thing that Gardiners and Bennet
s simply do not do.”
Darcy smirked, hearing this. “Though my acquaintance has not been long in nature, I can account for some Bennets in that regard, at least. I have never seen Miss Lydia Bennet exhibit anything resembling silence, and even Miss Elizabeth Bennet can be quite loud when she is properly provoked.”
“In such cases, sir, it has been you doing the provoking, and I suspect it was entirely by design,” Elizabeth rebuked him, though she was laughing as she did so. “But I can hardly protest the abusive language with which you describe my family when the words are completely true.”
He laughed, and it was an open and hearty sound, nothing like the polite, staid behavior at Rosings, and certainly unlike any laugh she had ever heard from him in Meryton. Such joy did the sound give her that she joined in wholeheartedly.
“I cannot see how the two of you would have quarreled at all,” said Mrs. Gardiner as she looked from one to the other. “You seem to be most amiable.”
