by Kara Louise
As the servants brought out the food, conversations began. Taking note of this, and being a little more forthcoming than the other two girls, Emily struck up conversations with them, doing most of the talking herself. Elizabeth had to hush her several times when she became a little too loud.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to get to know Miss Bartley. She seemed a pleasant lady and had been with the girls for four years. Gladys was eight and Harriet was seven. Prior to this employment, she had been governess of a family of seven children for a total of eighteen years.
As Elizabeth directed her gaze down the table, she could see that Rosalyn was doing everything in her power to engage Miss Darcy in conversation. The young girl politely answered, but it was evident by the look on her face that she felt a bit of discomfiture. Elizabeth believed it to be due to Rosalyn’s resolute attention. Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed as it appeared that Rosalyn was completely unaware of the effect she was having on her. Certainly anyone could see that Miss Darcy was uncomfortable, yet she bore up admirably, being singled out in such a way.
Elizabeth’s eyes drifted to Mr. Darcy, who was also watching this interaction. He was carrying on a conversation with the Willstones, but Elizabeth could see in his features, as he repeatedly glanced at his sister and Rosalyn, that he noticed her unease as well. Rosalyn turned to look at him several times and smiled, believing, Elizabeth supposed, that he was most appreciative of her efforts at befriending his sister.
As Elizabeth contemplated all this, she heard her name spoken.
“Miss Bennet?”
She looked over as Mr. Darcy’s cousin repeated her name.
“I am sorry, Mr. Hamilton,” she answered as she drew her napkin up and dabbed at the corners of her mouth.
“It is quite all right,” he answered, leaning back casually. “I understand that you come originally from Hertfordshire.”
“That is correct. I lived there until about eight months ago, at which time I took the position of Emily’s governess.”
“I have only been through there once. Were you fond of it?”
Elizabeth felt a rush of emotion threaten to spill over and took a sip of water to quell them. “I enjoyed my life there, yes. It suited me perfectly.”
“Do you prefer country life to living in Town?” He leaned toward her as he asked softly. “You have spent these past eight months in London, and I believe you will be spending the summer at the Willstones’ country home. Which do you think you will prefer?”
Elizabeth enjoyed his engaging manner. “If I had all the amenities of London at my disposal, I suppose I would enjoy it very much. As it is, I have looked forward to these summer months where I can amble about the countryside.”
“Ah! You are an explorer then!” He paused to take a bite. “You will find much to enjoy and explore here around Pemberley.”
“I am sure I shall,” Elizabeth returned softly.
“I never tire of coming here, although…” he paused and looked at Darcy, “…I fear he may grow tired of me showing up when least expected.”
“Were you not expected?”
Hamilton shook his head. Speaking in a hushed tone, he continued, “I understood that he and Georgiana were returning to Pemberley for a quiet summer, and when I came in from the sea, I journeyed here, expecting to find only my two cousins.”
“You are in the navy?” Elizabeth asked.
Hamilton nodded. “I have leave for a month and decided to spend some of it here. How was I to know that he had invited guests? The man rarely does that. Family, yes, but this is quite unusual for him. It is good, but unusual.”
Elizabeth turned her eyes toward Darcy. His attention was directed at the Goldsmiths, and he laughed at something Mrs. Goldsmith said. Elizabeth suddenly thought it odd that she had never really seen him laugh before. The smile reached his eyes, and it seemed to display contentment. That was it! That was what the portrait of him suggested—a contentment that she had never before seen in him. A contentment he never experienced while visiting in their little country neighbourhood.
“I understand you and my cousin knew each other in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she turned back to him, wondering exactly what else he knew. “Uh, yes. We had a… brief acquaintance… through his friend, Mr. Bingley.” Her hand determinedly reached out for the glass of water again, and she took another sip, grateful this time for the moisture that filled her suddenly dry mouth.
“Ahh, yes, Bingley.” Mr. Hamilton sat upright in his chair. “I have not yet made his acquaintance, but I know he and my cousin are good friends.”
Elizabeth forced a smile, wondering whether Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were indeed still friends, after his actions regarding Miss Darcy. “What position do you hold in the navy, Mr. Hamilton?”
He leaned forward now, his arms crossed on the table in front of him. “I anticipate a promotion forthcoming. I was a second lieutenant on the frigate I just returned from, but hope soon to become a captain.”
“Have you always wished to be in the navy?” Elizabeth asked.
Hamilton gave a sly glance at Mr. Darcy and then turned back to Elizabeth. “I do not have the means by which I can be as idle as my cousin. I have the unfortunate distinction of being the third son born to my parents, and I was forced to make a decision early on whether to join the navy or go into the church.”
With a teasing smile, Elizabeth asked, “So when did you discover you preferred guiding the course of a ship over guiding the course of parishioners? Did you think climbing the scaffoldings to furl and unfurl the sails more adventurous than the preaching of sermons and paying calls on the flock?”
Mr. Hamilton grew pensive. “One does sound more adventurous than the other, but to own the truth, my early years onboard a ship were positively dreadful. Some of the things we were forced to endure would be shocking to a lady’s sensibilities. It would be most ill-mannered of me to give you an accurate account of my experiences.”
“But you are the better man for it, so they say!” Elizabeth laughed softly.
“Perhaps. Suffice it to say, the food and accommodations, as well as the treatment we midshipmen received, often tempted me to forego that for the relatively easy life of a clergyman.”
“Or the idle life of a gentleman,” Elizabeth said as she looked up at Darcy, who met her glance. An awkward blush coloured her cheeks when she saw his dark eyes flash back down to the meal in front of him. She surmised he knew they were talking about him.
“I think it best we finish our meal,” Mr. Hamilton whispered, “as we are getting a rather scowling look from my cousin at that end of the table.”
Elizabeth turned her attention back to her meal. She enjoyed her repartee with Mr. Hamilton and felt she had an ally in him. He had no reason to feel ill toward her, and she rather enjoyed his conversation.
As everyone enjoyed the last course, an elegant fruit cobbler topped with cream, Miss Darcy addressed the party. Her voice was hushed and unsteady, and there were several times she looked to her brother for reassurance, but she seemed determined to make this announcement on her own.
“We would like to invite everyone to a picnic tomorrow afternoon at one o’clock. Since the men have made plans to fish in the morning, that ought to give them ample time to catch a sufficient amount.”
“Or give up trying,” laughed Hamilton.
The party joined him in laughter, and Georgiana nervously continued. “We decided to have the picnic tomorrow because the grounds have finally dried out after all the rains we have had, and since we know not when the next rains will come, we thought it best to do it as soon as possible.”
Everyone seemed pleased with the idea of a picnic, and even more so when she mentioned there would be games to play, kites to fly, and an elaborate treasure hunt, designed by her brother.
After the meal was over, the men were invited by Mr. Darcy to join him in his study, and Georgiana invited Mrs. Goldsmith, Mrs. Willstone, and Miss Matthew
s to join her in the parlour. Elizabeth and Miss Bartley were expected to take their wards to the children’s playroom for the remainder of the evening.
As Elizabeth held Emily’s hand as they walked, the two could not feel more differently. Emily took each step eagerly, looking forward to playing with her new friends and seeing what new amusements she might discover. Elizabeth, on the other hand, fought back feelings of regret. She could not help but consider that despite her upbringing, despite her years as the daughter of a gentleman, despite the offer of marriage she received from Mr. Darcy himself, she was now beneath him… beneath them all. It was something she would have to get used to. But she knew it would be extremely difficult here in this beautiful place called Pemberley.
Chapter 10
When Elizabeth awoke the next morning, a muted ray of sunlight penetrated the darkness of the room, announcing the dawn of a new day. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, she looked about her, feeling anew a great sense of admiration for her room, this house, and its grounds. Much to her dismay, she was feeling an ever increasing appreciation for its Master, which wrought in her a real sense of confusing disappointment, now that she would be considered so significantly beneath him.
While in the playroom the previous evening, in between conversing with Miss Bartley, reading a story to Emily, and listening to her read a story aloud, Elizabeth spent a good amount of time contemplating her first day at Pemberley. Truth be told, her contemplations dwelt mostly on Mr. Darcy and his conduct toward her. She had to admit he had treated her with kind civility, generous respect, and even playful teasing on occasion. She warmed at the thought.
Fisting both hands, she brought them down forcefully onto the coverlet. “What has come over me?” she whispered to herself. “I am no longer in a position to even consider this!”
She threw off the coverlet and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Raising both arms, she stretched and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a yawn. Elizabeth walked over to the windows and pulled back the sheer window coverings, looking first toward the front and then at the hill behind the manor.
Elizabeth gazed out at the early morning dawn, feeling it strangely beckoning her to take that walk to the top of the hill. Propelled by this thought, she quickly changed into one of her morning dresses and readied herself to go outside.
She quietly opened her door and stepped out, stopping as she did to listen for others who might be awake. Hearing only the distant clanging of pans from the kitchen, and the subsequent aroma from the baking being done there, she quietly made her way downstairs.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply as the aroma, most likely breads being baked, wafted stronger as she proceeded down the stairs. She pondered whether to inform one of the servants that she would be going out, but reasoned that since it was still early, she would likely return before most of the others came out of their rooms. Breakfast, they had been told, would be served at eight o’clock.
As she stepped out the door, she came to a halt. Her senses were pleasantly assaulted with a myriad of birds singing their songs to the rising sun. A light breeze played with the ribbons on her bonnet and a few loose strands of her hair. Looking out across the grounds, her eyes soaked in the glistening waters of the lake and the stream that fed it. Drawing her eyes upward, she marvelled at the blue sky that was dotted with just a few clouds, pink and orange in the morning sky. The dense green woods on the other side of the lake tempted her to come hither and explore.
But not this morning. They had travelled through the woods in their approach yesterday. The woody ridge behind the home might take a little exertion on her part, but she was determined to look for the path that would take her to the top.
Walking toward the back of the great house, she was delighted to find a footpath that looked well travelled and eagerly began her ascent. The path curved effortlessly up the hillside, and she turned occasionally to see the prospect below. The house stood majestically before her, so immense in stature and breadth that it blocked most of her view of the lake and some of the woods beyond from this lower height.
As she neared the summit, Elizabeth stopped to regain her breath and she turned again to look down at the house and grounds. She was now able to see the depth of the woods, the winding stream that they had followed coming in, and the house. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it, standing tall and proud, situated prominently upon a sloping rise.
As her eyes swept the panorama before her, she let out a soft sigh. If indeed Mr. Darcy had feelings of affection for Rosalyn, her own presence here was an unfortunate thorn he had to endure for the sake of their acquaintance. She gave a swift kick to a stone in front of her, sending it off into a nearby thicket.
She glanced one more time at Pemberley below and then continued on her way. When at last she reached the top, she was greeted with a breathtaking view across the valley of the distant peaks of Derbyshire. Little villages dotted the countryside, and she was able to see a rather large river winding hither and thither, sending off little streams in various directions or taking the waters from some that flowed into it.
The sun had already crested up over the peaks, and she felt the promising warmth of the day as it beat down on her. She felt a greater sense of admiration for the sight than she did exertion from the walk, but upon noticing a small bench, she walked over to it and sat down. Her eyes took in every pleasing scene below. She enjoyed this temporary respite from her duties as governess and the grief that still stung in the loss of her father.
A noise from farther along the ridge drew Elizabeth’s attention. She turned her head sharply in its direction, expecting to see an animal. Instead, she was startled to see Mr. Darcy emerge from around a clump of trees. He halted in his stride as he met her gaze.
A small smile emerged on his face. “Miss Bennet, I see that you have… again… discovered my favourite place of retreat.”
Elizabeth abruptly stood up as he continued to walk toward her. “Pray, forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I did not mean to intrude. Please excuse me.”
She turned to leave, but just as suddenly Mr. Darcy reached out, and his hand briefly touched her arm to stay her. Even after he had removed it, she could still feel the warmth of its imprint.
“Do not feel as though you must leave,” he said as he turned to look out over the valley. “The panorama is here for anyone to enjoy as long as they are inclined to take the short climb up. Unfortunately, not many do.”
“It is beautiful,” she said, tilting her head and letting out a soft sigh. “It reminds me of Cowper’s poems. The ones in which he is so descriptive of the land.”
“Ah, you enjoy Cowper?” he asked. His voice softened, as he turned his gaze to the view. “‘While far beyond, and overthwart the stream that, as with molten glass, inlays the vale, the sloping land recedes into the clouds; displaying on its varied side the grace of hedge-row beauties numberless…’”
“Yes, much like that one,” Elizabeth replied, her heart pounding so violently she was quite certain, in that hushed moment, that Mr. Darcy could hear it.
“I believe Cowper wrote that verse inspired by this view.”
Elizabeth turned her head toward him in surprise. “No! Surely you jest, Mr. Darcy. Besides, in that same poem he mentions the River Ouse, and that is definitely not the River Ouse we see down there!”
Mr. Darcy smiled, sharply raising his brow. “Perhaps he did not write the full poem inspired by this view, but I do speak the truth when I say he was once a guest at Pemberley, Miss Bennet, and I like to think that this view contributed to his imagery he painted with words.”
“He truly stood in this spot?”
Mr. Darcy nodded.
Elizabeth smiled and bowed her head in acquiescence. “I shall grant you then, that it may have inspired him in part, but it could have just as easily been from the view atop Oakham Mount near Longbourn, as Mr. Cowper lived in Hertfordshire, you know.”
Mr. Darcy gave a mock bow. “And so I shall grant you
that, Miss Bennet.” After a moment of silence Darcy asked, “Did you arrive up here this morning in time to see the sunrise?”
“I am afraid I did not.”
“Then you must promise me you will come up here early enough some morning to see it. It is usually quite stunning. Will you do that?”
“I most certainly will try.” The quiver in Elizabeth’s voice betrayed her confusion, and she quickly added, “I must go. Emily will be waking soon.”
Mr. Darcy reached out and touched her arm again, this time letting his hand linger a moment longer. “Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s heart pounded and she slowly looked up into his face. “Yes?”
He took in a deep breath as his eyes met hers. He studied her face for a moment and then said, “I would not wish for your stay at Pemberley to be awkward. I want to assure you that you are welcome here. When I invited the Willstones and Miss Matthews to Pemberley, I was well aware that you would be included in their party, and I want you to know that I harbour no ill feelings regarding what transpired between us. It is, I hope, all forgotten.”
Elizabeth moistened her lips as she heard his words. They were comforting, and yet at the same time, not. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I understand. If you will excuse me…” She gave a slight curtsey as Mr. Darcy bowed, and turned to return down the path.
She did not look back to see if he followed. Her feelings swirled with confusion. She was grateful for his attempt to alleviate her discomfiture, yet wondered if his words were another indication of his fondness for Rosalyn. Certainly he did not want her to inform Rosalyn about his offer of marriage. “It is, I hope, all forgotten.”
Elizabeth kept her eyes on the path on the way down, rarely turning her gaze to Pemberley. She kicked a rock that lay in her path as she tried to drive away the intruding thought that now, when she was finally beginning to see the good man that he was, she was no longer his equal, and he had now turned his affections toward Rosalyn.
