A Chance Encounter in Pemberley Woods

by Brigid Huey

  “Polite? Quite the contrary,” Darcy said, smiling openly at her once again. My God, I am flirting. He doubted that he had ever openly flirted with any woman. Before she could work out his true meaning, he went on. “I must escort my sister as well, of course. Having you with us will let her share the spotlight, so to speak.”

  He felt her relax. “Of course, Mr. Darcy.”

  She turned and left the nursery, with him following as closely as he dared. When they entered the hallway, she paused as if unsure of where to go. Naturally, she would have no idea where Georgiana’s rooms were.

  “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm. He schooled his features to a mask of calm civility if only to conceal how much he wanted to touch her.

  She hesitated for the slightest moment before slipping her delicate arm through his.

  ***

  They walked in silence for a few minutes. Oddly enough, Elizabeth found she was growing accustomed to Mr. Darcy’s frequent silences. He was a man of few words, it seemed. The first night she met him at the assembly rooms in Meryton, he had been nearly silent—though one rude remark stood out clearly in her mind.

  Thinking about that evening now, Elizabeth could not understand it. Mr. Darcy’s behavior had been unpardonable. And yet, he really had been nothing but a gentleman since. It seemed to Elizabeth now that she had judged him quite harshly upon one encounter. Why was that? What was it about him that bothered her so? Now, as they walked arm in arm through the palatial halls of Pemberley, she could clearly see her own vanity at work.

  He had been prideful, indeed, and quite rude. But were these unforgivable offenses? Her implacable dislike seemed now to be rooted in her own prideful behavior. Her opinion of him had begun to change upon receiving his letter in Hunsford. Yet nothing had prepared her for his treatment of Daisy.

  “Miss Bennet?” Mr. Darcy’s voice cut through her musings.

  “Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I was woolgathering.”

  He smiled at her. Why have I never noticed how handsome he is when he smiles?

  “I was merely extending my thanks for your kindness to Georgiana. I know she will feel much more at ease with you near.”

  “The poor girl. I understand, you know.”

  “Do you? I would not think that you had ever been afflicted with shyness the way we have.”

  Elizabeth smiled to herself. Shyness! She saw it easily enough in Georgiana, but it had never occurred to her that Mr. Darcy might suffer in such a way.

  “You are quite correct, sir. But Jane was terribly shy when we were young.”

  She watched Mr. Darcy’s features change as sudden understanding appeared to dawn. They walked a few more paces in silence before he stopped abruptly, turning to speak directly to her.

  “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, for my dreadful interference regarding your sister and Mr. Bingley. I cannot believe I was so blinded by my own sense of superiority that I misunderstood a woman of her demeanor so egregiously.”

  Elizabeth, shocked though she was at this declaration, could not help but smile. He had admitted his wrongdoing utterly and completely, without artifice or conceit.

  “You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy, upon one condition,” she said with an arch smile. But she got no further for they were joined at that moment by Georgiana, who had emerged from her room so quietly that Elizabeth had not heard her approach.

  ***

  Never in his life had he been less happy to see Georgiana. He watched as Elizabeth turned and gave his sister a bright, welcoming smile. She had been about to forgive him for his interference. A “condition,” she had said. What condition? He would do anything for her forbearance.

  It startled him to realize how much he needed her forgiveness—he, who had prided himself on needing no one. When his own excellent father had died, Darcy had shouldered the mantle of responsibility without hesitation or complaint. It was his duty, and he had taken pride in his ability to conquer it alone.

  Alone.

  “Thank you for accompanying us, Miss Bennet,” his sister was saying, her soft voice full of relief.

  “It is nothing, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said.

  Darcy offered both ladies an arm, and they began their descent to the drawing room below.

  “My sister Jane used to be frightfully shy,” Elizabeth said as they walked down the stairs. “We had our coming out together so I could spare her from being the center of attention.”

  “I understand her feelings perfectly,” Georgiana said.

  “I thought you might,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. Her bright eyes sparkled with merriment, and Darcy nearly missed a step.

  “However did she manage to…that is…?” Georgiana seemed unable to voice her true question.

  “Practice,” Elizabeth replied, clearly understanding her meaning. “Practice and, dare I say, growing up.”

  Darcy felt his conscience prick as Elizabeth described her sister. He knew how devoted she was to Jane. And he had managed to hurt the person most important to Elizabeth.

  She might have been ready to forgive him for his dreadful behavior, but he was a fool to hope that she would ever return his affections. It was folly.

  At that moment she turned to him, her face full of merriment, and said, “I dare say you suffer as your sister does if I may be so bold to acknowledge it.”

  He watched her smile falter as she took in his somber mien. He smiled in return, but the little furrow on her delicate brow remained.

  “Miss Bennet is quite correct, Georgiana,” he said, looking at his sister. “Both in her assessment of my weakness and her excellent advice. Practice would have saved me from appearing proud and unfeeling due to my own inexperience in the assembly rooms.”

  “Proud and unfeeling?” Georgiana protested immediately. “How can you say so, Brother? Surely no one would accuse you thus!”

  Darcy noticed Elizabeth coloring at his sister’s words.

  “Some have, Georgiana. And, I find, with good reason. My reluctance to enter society may have begun with shyness, but it soon grew into a selfish kind of disdain. I thought of my own feelings before others. However, a friend brought this error of manner to my attention, and I have dedicated myself to the improvement of this flaw.”

  Elizabeth was silent following this speech. She held his arm politely, but her eyes were cast down. He wished she would look at him, so he might ascertain her feelings.

  Georgiana, however, would not accept his claim. Her gentle voice took on a stronger tone as she came to his defense.

  “How can you say so, Brother? Miss Bennet, you must not believe him! Why, who is it that walks all night with Daisy, just to calm her? Who has cared for me with such tenderness these past ten years? You always think of others before yourself!”

  Darcy smiled indulgently at his sister. Her goodness warmed his heart.

  “Not always, Georgiana, but I appreciate your heartfelt defense nonetheless.”

  “Daisy…is she much troubled?” Elizabeth asked, her voice sounding strained.

  Darcy looked down at her with concern. Georgiana, who seemed to be talking to Elizabeth, responded.

  “Daisy is very happy here, Miss Bennet, yet she misses her mother. That is my opinion, at least. She is generally quite content, but she will cry inconsolably from time to time.”

  “Oh! The poor dear,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes,” Georgiana agreed. “My brother can calm her. He spent hours holding her last night.”

  Elizabeth finally brought her head up to look at him. Her brown eyes sparkled, though not with the amused look he loved so much.

  “That is very good of you, sir.” Her voice was low and full of feeling.

  “It is nothing,” he replied. “I enjoy her company. Daisy, you understand, requires no conversation.”

  At that, Elizabeth laughed, and the sweet sound warmed his heart. They should always be as they were now: Elizabeth on his arm, laughing, happy. Georgiana gaining strength from Elizabeth in a way she could never do with h
im.

  They had arrived at the drawing room, and Darcy stifled a sigh. There would be no more candid conversation this evening.

  Chapter Six

  Elizabeth braced herself for Caroline Bingley’s reaction to seeing her on Mr. Darcy’s arm. Upon contemplating this supposed horror, a smile reached her eyes just as the doors were opened by the footman.

  Caroline’s forced smile was so pinched it looked quite painful, but Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle seemed genuinely pleased. Mr. Darcy escorted her over to her relations, skillfully positioning Georgiana within their welcoming circle as well.

  “There you are, my dear!” her aunt said. “We thought you may have gotten lost.”

  “I did, in fact!” Elizabeth laughed. “Mr. Darcy was kind enough to show me the way back.”

  “Thank you for escorting my niece, Mr. Darcy,” Aunt Gardiner said.

  “The pleasure was mine, I assure you,” Mr. Darcy replied.

  At that moment dinner was announced, and Mr. Darcy offered his arm to his sister once more. Elizabeth and her aunt walked with Mr. Gardiner whilst Mr. Hurst escorted Caroline and Louisa.

  Elizabeth found herself seated beside Georgiana with her aunt on her right and Mrs. Hurst across the table. Miss Bingley was seated on Mr. Darcy’s right. A spark of irritation that savored strongly of jealousy lit within Elizabeth’s breast as she watched Mr. Darcy take his seat at the head of the table, nearest to Miss Bingley.

  It was too ridiculous—finding herself coveting Miss Bingley’s spot at the table! She smiled to herself and began to turn to her nearest dinner companion when she caught Mr. Darcy’s glance. His eyes held hers a moment, and a ghost of a smile shaped his lips as if in answer to her own.

  Distracted as she was, the sudden appearance of a footman with the soup course made her jump. She glanced back up at Mr. Darcy, but he had turned his attention to the soup. She took a tentative sip herself and was delighted by the warmth and comfort of the simple dish.

  Turning to Miss Darcy, she said, “My compliments to your cook, Miss Darcy.”

  The young woman smiled shyly in return. “Thank you, Miss Bennet. Mrs. Peters has been with us for many years.”

  “I can well believe it. This style of soup is a favorite of mine.”

  “Yes, I know,” Miss Darcy replied. She stammered a bit in response to Elizabeth’s confused look. “That is…my brother mentioned…he asked me to include the soup as he knew it was a favorite of yours.”

  Unconsciously, Elizabeth glanced down the table at Mr. Darcy. Goodness, the man paid her a great deal of attention! She must have remarked upon the soup when in his company though she herself could not remember the time or place.

  “That was indeed gracious of him,” she said at last.

  “Oh yes!” Miss Darcy replied, eager as usual to praise her brother. “He is the kindest and best of men. He takes great pains to attend to those he esteems as you must have noticed.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Elizabeth said rather lamely. He had taken great care to see that she and her relations were comfortable. Did that mean that he held them in esteem? And what of Daisy? He had rocked the child to sleep in his own arms. Surely, that meant that he cared for her beyond the cause of duty.

  “For myself, I am most impressed by his ability to right a misstep,” Georgiana continued, clearly warming to her subject. “My brother will act immediately if he feels he has behaved wrongly, though he has a difficult time forgiving himself, I believe.”

  Miss Darcy gazed at her brother, and her sweet face filled with deep regret. “It is a trait we share,” she said, so quietly Elizabeth was not sure the comment was meant for her.

  “I understand completely,” Elizabeth said. “I have made several missteps in my life I deeply regret, but one more so than others.” She hesitated, unsure of how much she could share without revealing too much. “I trusted a man once…he seemed everything right and amiable. But I was deceived. In the end, my defense of this man cost me a friend.”

  Georgiana had ceased eating. She sat looking at her with such rapt attention that Elizabeth felt as if she were being studied.

  “And the friend you spoke of…were you able to make amends?”

  Elizabeth bit her lip. How badly she wished she could say they had. She stole another glance down the table, and her gaze clashed with Mr. Darcy’s. He was observing her with the same intense scrutiny as he had those few months in Hertfordshire. She had always assumed that look to be one of derision. Yet now, she was as unsure of his purpose as she was of his forgiveness.

  “I am not certain,” she replied at last to Georgiana. “Sometimes I think we have, and then I remember the harsh words that passed between us, and I wonder yet again.”

  “It seems this person is important to you. I wish you luck then, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth was rather unused to spending nearly an entire meal speaking deeply about a subject so close to her heart. She smiled then, laughing at their seriousness of manner.

  “Shall we not speak of lighter subjects, Miss Darcy?” She glanced again at Mr. Darcy, who was again looking in their direction. “I fear your brother will relocate me if you do not smile soon.”

  At that, Georgiana laughed—a true laugh, quiet and demure though it was. “I think there is little risk of that! For I know how well he thinks of you. But let us speak of happier things all the same.”

  Elizabeth was thrown into a state of confused happiness at Georgiana’s words, but she valiantly tried to keep their conversation aloft. “You are fond of music, are you not?”

  They were distracted at that moment by a loud exclamation from the head of the table.

  “My dear Mr. Darcy! Do you mean to assert that this foundling will stay at Pemberley?” It was Miss Bingley.

  “I do,” Mr. Darcy replied with his usual air of implacable calm. “She is, after all, a distant relation. Why should she not stay with us?”

  “People will talk, Darcy,” said Mr. Hurst. The whole table was momentarily quiet as they all recovered from the shock of Mr. Hurst contributing anything at all to the wider conversation.

  “Indeed,” replied Mr. Darcy. “People rarely do anything else. Miss Anne Elizabeth Darcy will be a part of our family here at Pemberley whether people talk or no.”

  It took a moment for Elizabeth to realize he was speaking of Daisy. Anne Elizabeth Darcy? Mr. Darcy looked her way as he finished speaking. He smiled briefly then resumed his conversation with Miss Bingley.

  “Anne was my mother’s name,” Miss Darcy said quietly, speaking to Elizabeth.

  “I see,” she replied, tearing her eyes away from the man at the head of the table. “Then what a perfectly chosen name.”

  “It suits Daisy, though I suspect the nickname will persist. Our mother was a strong woman just as our Daisy will be. And my brother and I both hope that she has just as much wit as you when she grows older.”

  “Me?” Lizzy said, stopping with her fork in midair.

  “Yes,” Miss Darcy replied with a look of confusion. “She is named after you too, of course!”

  “But I…” Elizabeth was unable to formulate a reply.

  “You brought her into our lives,” Miss Darcy said with a gentle smile. “My brother said Daisy needed a strong name that would match her personality. Anne Elizabeth is perfect.”

  Elizabeth looked again at Mr. Darcy. He smiled at her and gave her just the slightest nod. Her heart felt full to overflowing. She was honored that the Darcys would consider her as a namesake for their new ward. It was an action that a friend might take.

  He must have forgiven her.

  ***

  Darcy could hardly attend to Miss Bingley’s conversation during dinner, distracted as he was by Elizabeth’s fine eyes. Had she been glancing at him more than usual? Was she pleased with his choice for Daisy? And what on Earth was the condition she had spoken of earlier?

  He was relieved when dinner was over and the gentlemen retired to the library. Despite his distraction, he found
himself drawn into conversation with Mr. Gardiner.

  “My business will not allow me time enough to tour the lake country, but I was hoping to tour Matlock,” he said.

  “Do you think you will?” Darcy asked. He felt a keen interest in the subject.

  “I do not. Our delay has limited our ability to do so.”

  “Of course,” Darcy replied.

  “Though I am hopeful that we shall return in the future,” the gentleman added.

  “I hope very much that you do,” Darcy said. “Matlock is remarkably beautiful country. My uncle, the Earl of Matlock, resides there, so I am a frequent visitor. You mentioned earlier that you mean to stay in the neighborhood for a week at least. That should give you time to see Dovedale, should you wish to do so.”

  “Do you recommend it, sir?” Mr. Gardiner asked.

  “I do,” Darcy replied. “Most heartily. It is quite picturesque and ideal for those who love walking.”

  “My niece is a great walker, though I am afraid my wife and I cannot match her endless enthusiasm for the enterprise.”

  “I am familiar with her fondness for walking,” Darcy said, remembering the morning she appeared in the Netherfield breakfast room, her hem full of mud and her eyes full of life. “I believe she would very much enjoy the excursion. I would be happy to accompany you should you wish for a guide.” He was trying his best to remain casual. It would be a privilege indeed to be allowed to show Dovedale to Elizabeth, to share his home country with her.

  “That is very good of you, sir.”

  “Shall we make a plan for the day after tomorrow? It is only a short drive by road. We can picnic at Dovedale if the weather remains fair.”

  “I look forward to it,” Mr. Gardiner replied. He glanced at his pocket watch. “Shall we return to the ladies?”

  “Indeed.” A glance at Mr. Hurst told Darcy the man was unlikely to rise from the couch for several hours. He and Mr. Gardiner left him for better company.

  To his surprise, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst stood apart from the other ladies, their heads bent together—similar unhappy looks upon their faces. He felt a pang of remorse. Had they not been in constant pursuit of him, they might have been pleasant enough. However, their treatment of both Miss Elizabeth and Georgiana was inexcusable.