Mrs. Shore looked at her carefully, perhaps wondering what she had overheard. “Of course.”
Emma said chirpily, “Miss Lizzy is teaching me French. Vous devriez me… ummmm… donnez-moi un patisserie. It means you should give me something sweet. Oh! S’il vous plait. That means please.”
The cook laughed. “Aren’t you the sweetest creature.”
Elizabeth poked Emma. “You said it wrong. Vous devriez me donner.”
“I could not tell the difference,” Mrs. Shore stated. “So it was an excellent effort.” She pulled several tarts out of the oven. “Fresh and warm. I kept them that way just for you, sweetie. And there is one for you, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth nodded her thanks. “Well, shall we go?”
Emma nodded eagerly. Elizabeth glanced back at Pamela and Mrs. Shore again as she left. What had they had been talking about?
They walked out into the kitchen garden, and were greeted by the aromatic scents of cooking herbs and a breeze that was welcome after the heat from the kitchen’s ovens. The plants, carefully tended by Mrs. Shore, filled the whole area with green leaves and good scents.
The basket in her hand was heavy from the bread, the generous cut of chicken and a handful of strawberries that Mrs. Shore had provided for their luncheon. The bread was fresh from the oven and smelled delicious.
Pamela followed Elizabeth into the garden with a pensive frown. Elizabeth smiled at her encouragingly.
The maid looked down. “Miss Bennet, I hear you are a friend of Mr. Darcy’s.”
Elizabeth blushed at the question. She remembered that perfect day they had enjoyed Sunday, and the way he visited the nursery for twenty minutes yesterday morning to talk with her and Emma. “I hope that I am.”
“Do you know how he would…that is, if he found someone who was…”
This seemed possibly serious. Elizabeth handed Emma the basket. “Go run over to our rock and set up the blanket and basket for us to eat.”
Emma looked between the two of them. Elizabeth could tell that Emma knew they were going to talk about something that might be interesting. Especially since it involved Mr. Darcy. Emma was developing a case of hero worship for him.
Elizabeth made a shooing motion with her hands. “I am depending upon you.”
Emma sighed and said in a long suffering voice. “Yes, Miss Lizzy.”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head as the girl ran off, and she carefully listened to make sure her footsteps went far enough away before she turned back to Pamela. “What exactly should your brother stop doing now that Mr. Darcy is here?”
“He has…that is…”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
Pamela exclaimed, “What do you think!”
“A great many different things. About which matter?” Elizabeth laughed. “I promise I shall not tell anyone anything you say to me unless your brother is committing a serious crime, in which case you should tell someone in authority.”
“No! Betray family. Never.”
“Family can betray you — but if your brother is… I merely suggest this for its absurdity, but if he is murdering travelers, you should—”
“No! Never! He is the sweetest brother in the world.”
“So he is not murdering people passing along the highway on moonless nights?” Elizabeth grinned at the girl and touched her arm. “Then what is he doing that is so serious?”
“It isn’t serious.”
“I am glad to hear. And in that case I swear I will not tell anyone about the matter.”
“But you might think it is serious. Sometimes people get treated so horribly for just a little bit of fun, or some trifle. Like how in London they hang little boys for stealing apples, all of the time.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “They do not. An item must be above five shillings in value before a theft can be a capital crime.”
“I heard they hang little boys in London for stealing apples! My aunt told me they do. They do in London. Everything is so violent and frightening there.”
“I lived in London for three years. It is not near so dangerous as that. And the law upon theft is everywhere in England.”
“Oh. But they don’t hang little boys here often.” Pamela nibbled her lip. “But even if someone stole that much… Surely you do not think there is anything right about that? Killing a little boy for that amount.”
“I don’t.”
“You wouldn’t tell anyone if a boy was stealing. Would you?”
“Your brother is no little child. Do you mean to tell me your brother has been frequently engaged in theft?”
“No! Of course not, he is no thief! Theft is wrong.” Pamela stamped her foot. “They also execute poachers. Everyone knows that is terrible and poaching is just a way of making ends meet. Except some of the gentry.”
“Not all gentry approve of the harshness which poachers are treated with. My papa always had poachers on our lands fined a little and released without charges. It meant the woods were less full than they could have been, but it worked itself out. He was no great hunter. It annoyed my mother and the neighbors to no end.”
Pamela bit her lip and then shrugged. She looked side to side and lowered her voice. “I should not tell you…but you do not care. My brother sometimes poaches — only when he needs to! He has several children. And he always gives half the meat away. Auntie Shore sometimes helps to dress and cook it.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I hope he is careful.”
“Oh, yes! He is.” Pamela nodded eagerly. “But auntie is being ridiculous. She thinks that with Mr. Darcy riding about everywhere he ought to stop. She thinks Mr. Darcy will find him out, and then have him executed.”
“I do not think…” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I doubt Mr. Darcy would help to protect his Aunt’s lands by having someone punished. But does he really need to? Your aunt has an excellent position. A skilled cook can command excellent wages—”
“She has her own children!”
“You also have good wages. And I thought your father had a fine leasehold. I do not think your brother needs to stave off starvation.”
Pamela giggled. “Perhaps not. He enjoys poaching, and more meat is always good. You don’t think Mr. Darcy would have him executed?”
“I do not know. Even if he would not, your brother should stop, for his own sake and that of his children. Also I would be careful about who I tell such stories to.”
“You wouldn’t tell anyone. You aren’t like Lady Catherine — she is a fine lady, but she is sticky, she wants everything done right—”
“Pamela, don’t say that about Lady Catherine to everyone either.” Elizabeth laughed. “I am glad you like me enough to ask me.”
“Of course I do! You aren’t stuck up at all! But you are always elegant and ladylike.”
“You still think I am a lady?”
“You certainly ain’t a servant like me and Auntie. Not that I mind. We all have our place.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I would like you to consider me something of a friend.”
“I do. You don’t think I would tell anyone about how my brother sometimes steals Lady Catherine’s game.”
“You shouldn’t speak of it at all.” Elizabeth placed her hand on Pamela’s shoulder and almost whispered, “What if someone overhears?”
The young woman paled. Then she laughed. “Don’t scare me so!”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “I am not seeking to scare you.”
The girl grinned and hurried away towards the servant’s back entrance to the house to go back to her duties. With a warm smile Elizabeth turned to go after Emma.
She then jumped to see Mr. Darcy standing inside the kitchen door, leaning against it with his broad muscled shoulders filling the space. He held a basket with some chicken and bread and a bottle of wine with two crystal glasses in his left hand.
“My!” Elizabeth clapped her hand to her mouth and laughed, her heart still racing. “You startled me.”
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He smirked masterfully. “What if someone overhears? Just what were you conspiring about with that maid?”
“You heard that?”
“It is what brought me to stop. Your voice has a distinctive effect on me.”
Elizabeth blushed at the way he held her eyes.
“Do tell me,” his voice felt seductive, “what are you hiding with the maid? You can tell me.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I will not. It is her secret.”
“But, I am curious.” Darcy grinned at her.
“You only ask because I shall not tell you, and you wish to tease me.”
“Perhaps that is it.”
“I am sure it is.”
“I would never contradict you — certainly not in your understanding of my character.”
Elizabeth laughed at his smirk.
He touched her shoulder and pointed towards the upstairs window to the nursery. “I was looking for you and your pupil, to see if we might share a luncheon. But alas, neither of you were there.”
Elizabeth’s heart glowed a little at how Darcy declared that he wanted to spend time with them. “We had just gone out to have such a meal.”
“So I surmised. And Mrs. Shore confirmed it when I asked.” Darcy lifted the basket. “She gave me provender to follow you with, but I feared I might have difficulty finding your hiding location, until I ran across you warning against being overheard.”
“The conversation, in fact, touched upon you.”
“Not only conspiring with a maid, but against me!” Darcy grinned again. “What dark devilry do you have planned?”
Elizabeth smirked at Darcy. “I shall not warn you of our plot…unless…”
“How could I convince you to spare me? I have many good features.”
Elizabeth frowned. Was there some way to safely feel out whether Darcy was likely to be a threat to Pamela’s poaching brother? “How…strongly do you feel about the laws of England?”
“Very.” Darcy blinked in confusion and wrinkled his brow.
Elizabeth pursed her lips. That was too vague of a question to be useful.
“Oh!” Darcy’s face cleared. “This about your conspiracy?” Darcy laughed. “May I guess? One of that young maid’s paramours or relatives is involved in depredations against the precious animals of Lady Catherine’s estate?”
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. “How did you guess — I am saying nothing.”
“Poaching is the most common crime in most countryside districts. I often need to deal with it. It is a difficult matter to avoid the extreme harshness of the law without being so indulgent that the rights of the master over his land are not defended. I can promise I shall not help Lady Catherine’s gamesmen to protect her fields, even if I encounter the poacher by chance in the deed.”
“I believe there are some who would be glad to hear that.”
“You have liberty from me to convey that to your maid.”
Elizabeth looked to the side and blushed. Even though he had already said he was seeking them out for lunch, directly asking him was hard for Elizabeth. “Emma already prepared our feeding lair. Would you like to come with me to eat with us?”
Darcy smiled at her, without speaking for a moment.
Elizabeth nervously babbled, “She is decidedly hungry, and the poor girl is too well disciplined to eat without me. I do fear that she might be reading ahead though.”
Darcy took her arm, and they walked towards the grove they’d met in the previous day. “Reading ahead?”
“We are reading Udolpho.”
“Anne Radcliffe! The book that gives thrills and shudders to every female brain.” Darcy winked at her.
“I will have you know, I read material besides novels.”
“And I read material besides dry Latin — I liked Udolpho.”
Elizabeth blushed. “Do not tell Lady Catherine that we are reading Radcliffe. I do not think she would approve. Shuddering thrills are not dignified.”
The feel of his thin glove touching where her arm was bare below the elbow gave Elizabeth a different type of shuddering thrill. She smiled widely when he glanced at her and exclaimed, “Emma shall be delighted for the company.”
“I am the one who is delighted to share with such good company.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. There was some happiness growing in her at spending time near Darcy. She knew she should not trust or approve of this feeling. He was to be married. Any flirtation between them could simply be a matter of play. He had no choice, and she had no choice.
They reached the clump of rocks Emma had perched herself on. The food basket sat next to her, and a little cloth for them to put the bread on was spread out next to her. A few ants were exploring the cloth unperturbed by Emma. She had her nose deep in the book.
When they came near Emma looked up. Then she jumped to her feet. “Mr. Darcy!”
“I do solemnly believe I am.”
The little girl ran over and gave both of them a tight squeeze.
Elizabeth said, “Are you growing hungry? I would have hurried, but Mr. Darcy wanted to eat with us, so we needed to get food for him. Else he would have needed to eat yours.”
Emma curtsied to Darcy. “Thank you for coming.”
“I am delighted. But we must eat.”
They sat around the two baskets and Darcy poured wine for both him and Elizabeth. They chewed happily on the chicken and the little bits of pastry and fruits that Mrs. Shore had packed for them.
There was not much conversation as they ate, as all three were hungry.
When he finished, Darcy went to the stream and washed his fingers off. He then carefully wiped them off on the cloth that had been provided with his basket. Darcy said to Emma, “Might I have the book. You wished to listen to Lizzy, but I have been told I have an excellent speaking voice.” He squatted to look the little girl in the eye. “Can I please try?”
“Well. Maybe.” Emma grinned and handed him the book.
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and flashed her a victorious smile, as though he had just beaten her. Emma saw this and giggled.
“Where should I start? What was the last part you read?”
Emma exclaimed, “You must begin from the beginning! It is all so exciting. You must not learn what happens out of order. That would be quite improper.”
Darcy lowered his voice. “You must promise not to tell this to my aunt Lady Catherine.”
Emma nodded eagerly.
“I have already read Udolpho.”
“You have! So has Lizzy!”
“It is exciting even when you know. You can pretend you have forgotten, but the ending shall not be told to me out of order if I start from where you are.”
Emma picked out the spot, and Darcy began to read. His voice was rich and sonorous, and he changed the tone of his voice for each character and for the high points of the description. It made the story so much more exciting than when Elizabeth told it.
Emma watched Darcy and eagerly followed along as his voice rolled through the lines.
Elizabeth felt such a surge of bittersweet tenderness in her chest that she nearly began to cry. One day he would be a perfect father.
In her heart, she wished that the three of them were a family.
Chapter Seven
Darcy had spent the morning in the dusty billiards room shooting rounds and thinking. His mind was on Elizabeth. He did not like leaving her under Lady Catherine’s power. She was deeply attached to Emma, and the girl was beginning to worm her way into Darcy’s affections as well.
The tones with which they talked about Lady Catherine worried him. He needed to do something to help them.
Outside the clattering hooves of a horse sounded up the lane. Darcy stepped to the open window to glance out and see who was coming.
It was a large black stallion expertly ridden by a medium-sized man in a red uniform came. A broad smile crossed Darcy’s face. His cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.
Darcy went do
wnstairs and out into the marble hallway to greet him.
Richard did not look well; he stopped in the middle of the floor when he saw Darcy, with his legs spread wide. He was balding, and his hair had been arranged in thin curls to cover the receding hairline as best possible, but there was a vein visible when he was angry above his forehead. It pulsed vividly. Richard’s lips curled back as he held his muscular frame stiffly.
“What brings you—”
“Damn you! Where is Anne!”
Richard stalked forward, clenching his fists.
Unconsciously Darcy backed away, before he stiffened and replied in a firm voice, “I believe she shall be here presently. I do not appreciate being shouted at in such a manner.”
“Damn you.”
Anne rushed out to them from the hallway, her slippers making a quick light patter. “Richard…”
Richard glared at her. “What were you thinking?”
“I had no choice. I never did.”
Richard stalked forward and gripped her by the shoulders and exclaimed, “Good God! You had a choice.”
“Forgive me. Forgive me—”
Darcy nearly started forward to separate the two. But he began to understand what the matter between them was.
Richard grabbed Anne by the wrist and dragged her into the first room down the hall, throwing her into the room and then slamming the door shut with a rattling force in a single fluid movement.
Darcy stared at the door in shock. Should he do something?
Richard’s loud voice shouted through the door, “Just once! Refuse her once!”
So when Anne had claimed she loved another, she had meant Richard. He trusted Richard to treat his cousin as a gentlewoman, no matter the strength of his feelings, so Darcy left the house.
He could not bow out and end his unwanted engagement. He still needed to protect his sister, and Lady Catherine would not accept Richard in any case.
The sun beat down on Darcy, and he quickly began to sweat in the heat of the summer day. Darcy walked to a line of wilderness near the house that was placed so it did not ruin the great prospect found when approaching the manor from the primary direction. The gravel crunched under his feet. He paced along the shaded path.
The Trials: A Pride and Prejudice Story Page 6
