by Kara Louise
When she spied Misty lying casually under a small table in the hallway, Elizabeth made a quick decision. She believed that she could easily catch the cat now if she approached her very calmly. At least all the doors along the hall were closed, and the worst that could happen was that the cat would run all the way to the end of the hall. Or… that someone would come up and find her here.
Her heart reminded her with every beat that she should stop and turn around. She deemed it prudent to call out for someone, just to alert anyone that might be up here that she needed help. “Hello? Is anyone here? Come here, Misty. Come here, kitty. Anyone?”
She walked slowly toward the cat, bending low and holding out her hand. How she wished she had thought to obtain a morsel of meat to entice the cat! “Here, Misty! Come to me!”
The cat eyed her from its reclined position, but Elizabeth could see by the look in Misty’s eyes that if she felt threatened at all, she would be up and gone in an instant. Elizabeth paused, making an attempt to soothe and reassure the cat. “Misty, I mean you no harm. Please, allow me to come pick you up! You… we… do not belong here!”
The sound of a door opening just opposite her caused her to scramble to her feet. Her face whitened in dismay as she found herself staring into the face of Mr. Darcy. His hair was wet and dishevelled and his shirttails were loose. Her face displayed her great sense of mortification, as his exhibited surprise. “Miss Bennet?”
“Please forgive me, Mr. Darcy. You must wonder… allow me to explain… you see…”
At that moment, Misty, startled by the opening door and Mr. Darcy’s presence, darted for the open door in which he stood. Both pairs of eyes widened as the cat rushed past Mr. Darcy, who made a futile attempt to snatch her up. In a shaky voice, Elizabeth blurted out, “Misty escaped from the north wing, and I was trying to retrieve her.”
Darcy turned to look into the room for the cat and then back at Elizabeth. He shook his head, the beginning of a smile slightly curving his lips. “Wait here. I believe she ran under the bed.”
He walked back in, calling the cat.
Elizabeth hesitantly took some steps toward the room, letting her gaze take in its beauty. With each step she took closer, she was able to see more and more. It was a massive room with a definite masculine look. Two large windows were framed with dark green window coverings. It reminded her of the dark green of Pemberley’s woods. She could see a plush chair in the corner of the room and a large bed covered with an intricately designed quilt in the same dark green, accented with navy blue, burgundy, and a milky white. Heavy wood furniture dotted the room, but did not overwhelm it.
She was no longer able to see Darcy but could hear him trying to coax the cat out from under his bed. She assumed he was on the other side on the floor. She stifled a nervous laugh that threatened to burst from her as she waited for him to rescue the cat—again.
At length, when he did not seem to have as much luck as he had getting her down from the tree, Elizabeth decided she had best leave before anyone came. He could always bring Misty downstairs once he retrieved her. Elizabeth was just about to suggest that when he stood up with cat in hand. As he turned and saw her at the door, he stopped and took in a sharp breath. His eyes darkened and did not leave her face.
He held Misty close to him, scratching the cat’s head as he slowly began to walk toward Elizabeth. He stopped when he was standing in front of her just inside the room. He said nothing.
Elizabeth could not determine from his demeanour whether or not he was angry with her for coming to this part of the house or angry at the cat, but his silence unnerved her. She took a very small step forward and, with every attempt at keeping her voice calm, said, “I will take her down.”
As Darcy stepped forward to bridge the final distance between them and handed the cat to her, he said in an uneven voice, “Miss Bennet, we must talk.”
As she wrapped her arms around Misty, she felt the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms. She knew she should not look up at him, for he would certainly see the strength of feeling she now had for him. But she could not help it and soon found herself gazing up into his face.
“Yes,” she said barely above a whisper, both their arms still wrapped around the cat. A noise at the end of the hall prompted Elizabeth to continue. “But not now… not here.” Her voice shook.
“No, not here,” he concurred, his voice gravelly. Reluctantly he pulled his arms from between her and the cat. “But soon.”
“Yes, soon,” Elizabeth answered, willing herself to turn her eyes from his.
“It would be best if you left before someone sees you and makes a wrong assumption.”
Elizabeth turned, eager to flee from this wing before anyone saw her, yet desiring to linger and gaze a little longer into Mr. Darcy’s eyes.
Elizabeth scurried toward the stairs, holding tightly onto the cat, her heart only now beginning to still since first coming up here in her pursuit of the feline. Her mind raced with a myriad of thoughts as she considered this past week. She shook her head as she thought back to her first day, when she encountered Mr. Darcy unexpectedly in his library. She had been mortified!
Now, when faced with a similar situation, she had all the assurance that Mr. Darcy thought no less of her and possibly still had those feelings of love he once had for her. He wished to talk with her! The very thought evoked feelings of both heightened anticipation and solemn dread, depending on what it was she imagined he wished to say. There was always the possibility that he wished to put her in her place and discourage any expectations she may have in securing his affections anew.
When she returned to the north wing with Misty, she encountered not only the women and children, but the men as well. Since the immediate threat of flooding was over, they had returned to get some much needed rest. Apparently Mr. Darcy had just returned when she encountered him.
Elizabeth quickly found Rachel, who was anxiously waiting for her return, and handed Misty to her. She admonished her to keep the cat in their room so she would not escape again, although the thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind that she would not mind chasing after her if she could encounter Mr. Darcy again. She surprised herself by giggling as she considered the state in which he had stepped from his room. She shook her head as she recalled how startled they both were.
She visited with Rachel and her mother for a while, holding the baby while they chatted. When Mr. Weber returned, she was happy to make his acquaintance. He told them how the rivers had receded sufficiently, and although still muddy, the road between Pemberley and their neighbourhood was well packed down and safe enough for the conveyance of the laden carriages.
That night at dinner, everyone was in the highest of spirits, confident that things would soon return to normal. The tenants would be leaving, and Mr. Darcy would no longer be occupied with the obligations that had been placed upon him.
While Rosalyn had disparaged it, Elizabeth appreciated how Mr. Darcy had taken it upon himself to ensure the safety of his tenants and their transition to Pemberley, and then took such prodigious measures to prevent damage to their homes. As Rosalyn had informed him—as inappropriate as her meddling was—he was certainly not required to go himself. But as Mrs. Reynolds had said, he was very good to his tenants, and this was a prime example—a tangible display—of his care and concern for them. That his good friend and cousin accompanied him was an indication of their respect for this man and his ways.
The attitudes of Mr. Darcy and the other two men were a stark contrast to those of the Willstones, from their disapproving remarks to their avoidance of all association with “those people” who were brought—most unfortunately—to Pemberley. She found their response surprising, especially as they were actually being critical of Mr. Darcy himself. Almost everything she had heard them say about the man up until now had been laden with praise.
It was Elizabeth’s recollection, however, of Rosalyn’s very first remarks to her that had caused her the greatest astonishment.
Her praise of Mr. Darcy had included his generosity, and she had also confided that her own father had married beneath him. Certainly her response to the tenants’ plight and Mr. Darcy’s actions should have been tempered with a little more compassion.
While she now felt a very real sense of coldness from the Willstones and Rosalyn, and was expected to continue to abide by Mrs. Willstone’s admonition, she was encouraged by every glance and smile Mr. Darcy made in her direction. From across the table, he carried on conversations with his guests, but there were times when his eyes were solely directed at her.
At one point, they began discussing the possibility of an evening of musical entertainment by those who wished to perform. Elizabeth readily noticed the sparkle in Rosalyn’s eyes. This was the type of diversion she had longed for. Elizabeth knew she wished to perform with the hopes of impressing Mr. Darcy with her voice and playing. She did play and sing well, and Elizabeth knew she would likely be the star of the evening.
With his eyes directed at Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy asked, “Shall we anticipate the children’s involvement? I do not believe a child is ever too young to perform before a small party of acquaintances.”
Elizabeth looked first at Miss Bartley. She was eagerly nodding her head. “Gladys and Harriet have been practicing a duet on the pianoforte. I am sure they would be more than willing to exhibit.”
Darcy directed his next statement to Elizabeth. “Having heard Miss Emily sing to Miss Bennet’s playing, can we expect your participation as well?”
Elizabeth eagerly looked at Emily. “Shall we oblige Mr. Darcy?”
Emily looked from Elizabeth and then back to Mr. Darcy. “We have been practicing several pieces,” she said eagerly, nodding her head.
“Good!” he said, and then turned to Georgiana. “You shall pick the night, Georgie. Tomorrow night? The following night?”
Miss Darcy seemed to search her brother’s face for reassurance, perhaps even strength. He smiled at her, and she seemed to receive what it was she needed from him. Turning to the others at the table, she softly yet decidedly told everyone that there would be an evening of music in two nights.
Rosalyn’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Would it be possible to have it in the ballroom? I noticed a pianoforte in there when Mrs. Reynolds showed it to us.”
Miss Darcy looked at her brother again. He nodded.
“That is a very good idea, Miss Matthews.”
Rosalyn then added with animation, “We could have our own private little ball… with dancing!”
The announcement was received with much delight and was considered the perfect diversion after all that had happened.
As Elizabeth spent that evening in the playroom with Emily, the anticipation of an evening of music—a ball of sorts—with the others gave her much to think upon with delight. She looked forward to performing with Emily and decided she would practice with her as much as she could on the morrow and the following day.
She wondered whether Mr. Darcy played an instrument. Or would he sing? But more importantly, she wondered whether she would have the pleasure of dancing with him. Elizabeth shook her head and told herself she ought not to get her hopes up. The Willstones most likely would not permit it.
***
The following day, the pianofortes in the music room and the drawing room were occupied with those practicing for their performances. Elizabeth and Emily worked on a duet on the piano, and then a song where Elizabeth played and Emily sang. After their practice, Elizabeth felt quite confident that they would do reasonably well.
In addition to practicing their music, Elizabeth worked with Emily on her studies. Then as a treat for Emily, Elizabeth retrieved the illustrated bird book from her room. As they looked at the different pictures, Emily picked out the birds she knew by name and studied the ones she did not know.
Before going back to her room to rest, Elizabeth took Emily down to the dining room for a glass of water. She came upon Miss Darcy, who was sitting at the table having some tea. Elizabeth sat down with Emily while she drank her water and asked Miss Darcy if the tenants had all left.
“Yes,” she replied. “I received word that they all were able to safely return to their homes.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Elizabeth said.
A look of anxiety crossed Miss Darcy’s face. “Unfortunately there has been some damage to some homes, and my brother has gone out to assist them. He may not return until later this evening.”
“I am so sorry,” Elizabeth replied. “Was it some of Pemberley’s tenants?”
“No, but one of the homes is a family member of one of our servants, so he wished to help out.”
Elizabeth let out a slow breath. “Your brother is certainly generous of his time and prodigious in his care for others.”
Miss Darcy wrapped her hands around her cup of tea and looked down into it. “He is too good. He feels a great sense of responsibility toward all that is his. That includes his tenants and servants.”
Elizabeth smiled gently. “You are fortunate to have such a brother.”
Miss Darcy lifted her eyes. “Unfortunately, I fear I will always measure any gentleman I meet against him. I fear there are few men like my brother.”
Elizabeth now lowered her eyes. “No, I suppose not.”
Emily finished her water, and Elizabeth thanked Miss Darcy for their visit. As she and Emily walked upstairs, Elizabeth reflected on Miss Darcy’s words. At that moment she did not think she could have ever been more wrong about someone than she had about Mr. Darcy.
After leaving Emily in her room with instructions to rest if she could, but to play quietly if she could not, Elizabeth crossed the hall to her room. She encountered a maid coming out of her room.
Elizabeth greeted her, knowing that maids came in and out all day as they did their chores. This time, however, the maid stopped.
“I left a package for you in your room. Mr. Darcy said it was something you needed.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, curious as to what it was she needed. She could not recall expressing any particular need to him.
When she walked in, she saw a wrapped parcel. She picked it up, and her fingers nervously untied the string and pulled off the paper.
When the paper was removed, she slowly lifted the lid of the box. She looked in, and what met her eyes brought a broad smile to her face. She lifted out a pair of mud boots.
Her heart beat excitedly as she anticipated what he meant by this gift—what he was suggesting. She readily recalled their conversation when she told him that she could not go out on her walks as she had no mud boots in which to walk. She brought them up to her heart, holding them tightly there.
Her eyes widened as she considered the possibility of walking out tomorrow morning to the top of the ridge behind the house. She walked to the window and looked out at the grounds. While still wet and muddy in some places, the sun would likely dry quite a bit of it up today, and tomorrow if there was no rain, she ought to be able to have a very pleasant morning walk. And watch the sunrise. In her mud boots. With Mr. Darcy at her side.
A nervous excitement propelled her to walk about her room. The anticipation of what the morning would bring—and the undeniable message the gift of these boots meant—were too much to allow her to rest. A smile and a true sense of contentment—she even allowed herself to admit it to be love—could not be denied. That he still loved her was something that, for the first time since arriving here, she could dwell upon with a fairly compelling hope.
Later that day, Elizabeth brought Emily downstairs, where they encountered Rosalyn and the Willstones. Despite Mr. Darcy’s absence, nothing could dispel her joy. There was still some time before dinner, and they retreated to the sitting room. Mrs. Willstone asked her daughter how her music practice went. Rosalyn appeared to be engrossed in a book, which Elizabeth surmised was only a pretence so she would not have to converse with her. She wondered whether her own fervent feelings of love for Mr. Darcy could be discerned by the o
thers. At the moment, she truly did not care.
The sound of footsteps drew everyone’s attention. Heads turned with the expectation, Elizabeth was quite certain, of seeing Mr. Darcy return. Instead it was a servant holding a letter.
“Miss Bennet, a letter was just delivered for you. They said it was urgent.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took it from him, a feeling of unease coursing through her. She looked down, her forehead creased, and she pursed her lips as she saw that it was from her sister Jane.
She fingered the letter, not so much from an uncertainty about whether she should open it here, but from what its contents might contain.
All eyes were upon her, which added to her distress. “If you do not mind…” Her shaking fingers broke the seal of the letter, and she opened it.
Her eyes widened as she read the first few lines of the missive. Her fingers covered her mouth as she shook her head. “Oh, no!” she cried. She stood up as she read as quickly as she could, hoping to find a resolution at the end of the letter, but matters only seemed to get worse.
“What is it, Miss Bennet?” Mrs. Willstone asked. “What has happened?”
Elizabeth found it difficult to even take a breath. As her mind comprehended all her sister had to say and how it would affect her, she said, “It is my younger sister Lydia.” Taking a much needed breath, Elizabeth choked out, “She is… she has left her friends and is missing.”
Chapter 20
Missing?” asked Mr. Willstone. “Your sister is missing?”
Elizabeth nodded her head repeatedly, her eyes moving feverishly through the letter. This was far worse than she could ever have imagined. “She was visiting a friend whose husband is a colonel in the militia, and they were stationed at Stratford. Apparently…” Elizabeth looked up, wondering how much she should say. “She is gone. It is thought she may have eloped with one of the officers.”
