B00CO8L910 EBOK (18 page)

With cheek, she asked, “Do you think we will make it to Pemberley by dusk?”

Her aunt laughed. “The estate is very expansive. I believe at the top of the hill we shall get our first view of the house.”

Elizabeth kept her eyes glued to the window as she scanned the woods for some glimpse of the house. Just as their carriage crested the top of the hill, her eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, and she audibly gasped. It was elegant with a dignified facade backed by many acres of trees. An exquisite greenway led to a beautifully manicured lake. It could not be equaled in her mind to any of the other estates she had seen thus far — indeed, any estate in existence, she was sure. It was simply stunning — stunning and very large. She had not thought Mr. Darcy so rich.

Her sister’s words came to her mind then. ‘
Perhaps seeing his beautiful home will secure your love
.’ Elizabeth laughed to herself as she echoed,
Perhaps, indeed!

* * *

Darcy and Georgiana stood on the steps of the home as the Gardiners’ carriage came up the drive and stopped before them. Georgiana rushed to the carriage window to greet her friend even before their door had a chance to open.

Darcy chuckled at his sister’s exuberance, wishing he might do the same. Instead, he stepped forward to open the carriage door himself.

Mr. Gardiner stepped out first and turned to hand his wife down. Much to Darcy’s chagrin, he also waited and helped his niece out as well, robbing Darcy of the privilege.

“Welcome to Pemberley. I hope you all had a pleasant journey.” Darcy allowed his eyes to rest upon Elizabeth. He had, of course watched her descend from the carriage but now took in her full beauty. His eyes had been deprived of her loveliness for far too long.

“Mr. Darcy, sir.” Elizabeth’s uncle extended his hand. “I thank you. We have had a most pleasurable time; I assure you. Thank you for your kind invitation to Pemberley.”

“It is my pleasure, sir. I hope while you are here that you will take advantage of all that the estate has to offer. My stables, hunting, fishing equipment are at your disposal, sir. We are glad you are come.” Darcy turned towards the ladies. “And that goes for you ladies as well. If there is anything that we can do to make your stay more agreeable, you need only ask.”

Mrs. Gardiner thanked him as she and her niece curtsied.

“Thank you, sir,” Elizabeth chimed, her voice ringing as a beautiful song in his ears.

Offering his arm to his sister first, he then extended the other towards Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, will you permit me?”

Elizabeth slipped her gloved hand around his arm. She was bewitched by his easy manners and wondered whether being at his home was the difference. She remembered that he had seemed more at ease at Darcy House as well. She allowed him to lead the way as they ascended the large staircase towards the immense front doors.

The feel of his arm beneath hers reminded Elizabeth of their time together in his study in London when she had felt his strength through just the thin barrier of his shirt sleeves. By the time they entered the house, Elizabeth found herself quite flushed. When asked whether she would like some refreshment, she conceded that she found the day to be a bit warm and accepted. They were soon introduced to the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, who seemed like an older, more grandmotherly version of his housekeeper in London. She liked her very much at once.

After conversing amiably, the Darcys invited their guests to retire to their rooms to rest and refresh themselves. Darcy saw Elizabeth to the passageway that led to the guest suites before allowing Georgiana to conduct her the rest of the way. Elizabeth in his home promised to be delightful, enchanting even, though perhaps a challenge if he considered the way her blushing cheeks earlier had made him feel. Perhaps he should not have spent the last few hours thinking of Elizabeth as his wife. That kind of mischief could only end with her in his arms, indeed!

* * *

Elizabeth stood in her dressing gown with a cup of tea in her hand, watching the sun rise through her window.
I could get used to this
, she mused. Every morning, Mrs. Reynolds had sent a tray to her room nearly as soon as she woke. It seemed that kind of particular attention was customary at Pemberley because her aunt had commented on the same during a walk around the gardens. To her chagrin, her time at Pemberley was nearing its end. Three of the most charming, blissful days had slipped past, and the next day she would be leaving with her aunt and uncle.

She sat on the window seat and pulled a blanket about her legs as she recollected those last few days at Pemberley. She had joined her aunt in visiting her acquaintances in Lambton while her uncle took advantage of Mr. Darcy’s fish. When she was not attending her aunt, she was entertained by Mr. Darcy and his sister. They were engaging, pleasing company and ended spending much of their time wandering the grounds.

Georgiana always seemed to contrive reasons to abandon Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. These moments seemed to make Mr. Darcy a tad self-conscious. Elizabeth laughed and sipped her tea. Georgiana was nearly as determined as her mother had been in her matchmaking, extolling her brother’s fine qualities despite his embarrassment and displeasure at such praise.

During the tour of the house that first day, Georgiana had insisted on showing Elizabeth the manor herself and had brought her around to the principal rooms, highlighting various aspects. Halfway through, she stopped before a door. “This is my brother’s studio; he is a fine artist.”

Elizabeth was surprised. “I had not heard of this accomplishment.”

“Oh yes, he is quite humble about it. He never speaks of it.” She turned and knocked on the door, calling for her brother, who she knew was within.

Elizabeth heard some shuffling of papers, and her heart picked up its tempo as the now familiar sound of Mr. Darcy’s boots came closer. When he opened the door, he was startled to see Elizabeth with Georgiana and immediately hid his paint-stained hands behind his back and bowed. “Georgiana, Miss Bennet. Is there something I can do for you?” He stepped out into the hallway and attempted to close the door behind him.

Georgiana stepped forward and around him. “I was just showing Elizabeth the house, and I wanted to show her your paintings.”

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth to gauge her reaction to his hobby, and finding a curious gleam in her eyes, he stepped aside, allowing her into this sanctuary, albeit with a little hesitancy.

The smell of the oil paints permeated the room, adding to the surprising experience of viewing this side of Darcy for the first time. She glanced around and saw dozens of canvases of all sizes about the room, marveling at his talent. His landscapes were appealing, and although she knew nothing of art, it was his portraits that she found most captivating.

“Mr. Darcy, you hide your light under a bushel. These are truly magnificent!” She handled a painting of Georgiana on a swing in the garden.

She could see her praise both discomfited and pleased him. Looking around then, she noticed that Georgiana had left the room and they were alone. She looked toward him, and he answered her unspoken question. “She remembered she wished to speak to Mrs. Reynolds about . . . something.”

Elizabeth nodded and gave a nervous laugh. Despite her efforts to appear indifferent to their plight, she blushed.

Darcy cleared his throat and shifted his feet “She is attempting to manage the job as hostess by herself for the first time, and I admit I am hesitant to suggest she allow Mrs. Reynolds to do more. I do not want her to think she is not managing it well enough.”
And I cannot deny the way her ‘forgetfulness’ has been to my benefit.

“Of course not; she is doing splendidly.” Elizabeth turned and began sifting through a few pencil drawings at a table next to her.

She had only managed to look through a few before Mr. Darcy was by her side and directing her across the room to a painting under a canvas covering. “Miss Bennet, will you permit me to show you one of Georgiana I am working on for her birthday?” He tried to steady his voice despite the close call. Another couple of drawings and she would have been deluged with a dozen or so of her own likeness, as well as another that he was planning to gift her later.

“It would be an honor, sir.” Elizabeth’s heart was pounding at the gentle pressure of his hands on her arms as he led her across the room and lifted the canvas.

The painting was a good likeness and showed Georgiana’s beauty perfectly. They stood talking companionably for a few minutes about the painting. He had just lowered the cover again when Georgiana returned. Elizabeth left with her to continue her tour, and Mr. Darcy retreated back into his studio.

Elizabeth finished her breakfast tea and stood to place the cup back on the tray. She sighed and wished her time at Pemberley were not nearly over. That day they had planned a tour around the lake, and she anticipated it with eagerness. Climbing back into the warm, luxurious comfort of her bed, her mind continued to replay the last couple of days at Pemberley.

When Georgiana had disappeared in the observatory, the music room, the back gardens, and the gallery, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had smiled in affectionate amusement at her maiden adventure at hosting. Later, when she had also disappeared from the orangery, the drawing room, the ballroom and the topiary, their smiles indicated more embarrassment than amusement.

However, when Georgiana had deserted them in the library, Elizabeth did not notice for quite some time as the enchantment of the room and the volume of books transfixed her. The lofty room with its upper level contained the most wondrous collection she had ever seen!

Mr. Darcy had quietly followed her through the library and only ventured a comment when she showed marked interest in one book or another. Elizabeth remembered, upon reaching a small alcove in the west end of the room, that he had confessed it was a favorite place to hide as a naughty child. He demonstrated how he would pull the heavy, leather chair in front of the alcove and hide behind it, totally obscured from view.

She smiled now, as she had then, at the thought of Mr. Darcy as an errant boy. She could not picture him engaging in anything more mischievous than possibly stealing a few biscuits from the kitchen before dinner.

Those conversations about their childhoods led Elizabeth to think of Mr. Wickham. She hoped to have a moment to speak to Mr. Darcy about him while at Pemberley; more particularly, she wished to talk to him about the recent rumors regarding Wickham that she heard before leaving Longbourn.

Rolling on her side, she closed her eyes with renewed self-reproach over her complete misjudgment of Mr. Wickham’s character. When she had first asked Mr. Darcy about his boyhood friend, he bristled but then related a faithful narrative of every event in which they were concerned together.

“I am embarrassed to admit that I believed Wickham. I, who prided myself on my discernment, was completely fooled by him,” she said.

“You could not have known. He can please wherever he wishes.” Darcy felt relief discussing this with Elizabeth. He was heartened she was no longer misinformed as to his own character, and he had wondered while at Kent whether she still believed Wickham’s lies.

And yet Darcy left out the history pertaining to his sister and Wickham, believing it was Georgiana’s choice whether or not to tell Elizabeth since she was her particular friend. Though he had hinted at the events of last summer regarding Georgiana’s near ruin when he had accompanied Elizabeth home to Longbourn, he did not indicate the acquaintance had been Wickham.

Later that night, when she retired to bed, Elizabeth mulled over all Darcy’s words; her thoughts were so tumultuous that she could get no rest until the early hours of the morning. Alas, she found herself awake at sunrise, as was her habit, despite having slept so ill.

Stretching her limbs, she readied herself for the day regardless of her fatigue. It was her last day at Pemberley, and she did not want to waste a moment. She could fret or reproach herself over Wickham on another day. With a resolved plan to enjoy herself, she pulled the servants’ bell to summon the maid to help her dress.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another part of the house, Darcy was speaking privately to his sister.

“Georgiana, I know this might sound like an odd request, but later today when we walk the lake path with Elizabeth, I want you to find an excuse to leave us alone.”

Georgiana stamped her slippered feet and squeaked, “Are you going to propose, William?”

Darcy threw his head back and rolled his eyes. “Of course not, she is in mourning still, you goose. You know that would be improper, not to mention insensitive. I have made her a small gift that I wish to give her.”

Darcy pulled out the miniature he had drawn and handed it to his sister.

“Is this her sister?”

Darcy nodded.

“All right, I am sure I can think of something to take me away.”

Darcy smiled and kissed her cheek. He tucked the miniature back into his pocket, anticipating giving it to Elizabeth later.

* * *

As he set out to walk with Georgiana and Elizabeth, Darcy was nervous. He had wished to give Elizabeth the miniature since the day of her arrival but had not found the right moment. She was to leave the next day with the Gardiners, and he knew his opportunities were dwindling. He had suggested the walk so that he might have an occasion to give it to her beyond the curious eyes of her aunt and uncle.