After receiving profuse words of admiration for the park along with gratitude for extending the invitation to Pemberley from their guests, Mr. and Miss Darcy invited them inside. With each step Elizabeth took up the marble steps toward the great door of the house, she felt an increasing sense of eagerness to see the interior. She had certainly been captivated by the woods and grounds that surrounded Pemberley. The exterior of the home itself was truly magnificent. She was now fervent to view the home itself.
Putting away all thought of who the owner was—and to whom it had once been offered—she stepped inside with the others.
Elizabeth stifled her gasp but could not conceal her look of admiration as they stepped into the entryway. It was truly majestic, in a way that gave honour to those who built it centuries before, as well as its heritage through the years. She could not deny that it was everything agreeable to her sensibilities.
It took barely a moment for her mind to be settled on the subject. She could not—she would not—keep her views of the place to herself. It was far too beautiful for her to remain silent. Straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she joined the others in their warm approbation.
“You have a beautiful home, Miss Darcy,” she said softly. Turning her head slightly, she met Mr. Darcy’s eyes and acknowledged him, as well, with a demure nod. “Mr. Darcy.”
He returned her compliment with a nod of his own, his eyes never leaving her face. Feeling an uncharacteristic blush threatening to spread across her features, she quickly turned back to face Miss Darcy. Unfortunately, Rosalyn had now garnered the young lady’s attention and was uttering unending words of admiration. Again Elizabeth did not know where to look, upon what to settle her eyes. It was all too grand in its aspect… too humbling in the realization that it could all have been hers.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” Miss Darcy replied after a moment, acknowledging her words of appreciation in the midst of Rosalyn’s effusive praise. “That is very kind of you.” Elizabeth readily noticed the look of discomfiture written across her features. Certainly her presence there reminded Miss Darcy of Mr. Bingley and her recent loss.
The servants lined up with the luggage, and Mr. Darcy issued instructions regarding the rooms in which each member of the party was to reside. Turning back to the party, he clasped his hands together. “The servants will take each of you to your rooms where you may freshen up. We shall dine in two hours, so please take whatever time you need. Feel free to rest, or you may tour the house if you are so inclined. See Mrs. Reynolds if that is your wish. Presently my other guests—a longtime family friend and his family and my cousin—are relaxing after a rather full day. You shall meet them at supper. I am quite certain you shall enjoy their company.”
“The Colonel is here?” Elizabeth asked as she turned to him, a smile brightening her features.
“No,” Mr. Darcy answered softly. “It is not the Colonel.”
“Oh,” she replied, her smile disappearing as she unwittingly bit her lower lip. She would have enjoyed the Colonel’s diverting company. Her eyes narrowed at the sudden thought that it might be Anne to whom he referred. If it was Anne, Rosalyn might hear of their “expected” marriage. She would be devastated. An unwitting look of concern swept across her features.
Darcy’s jaw clenched as he studied Elizabeth’s demeanour. “It is another cousin, Peter Hamilton, the son of my father’s sister.”
“I see,” Elizabeth replied.
“Well, unless you have any questions, I shall allow you to proceed to your rooms. The servants will show each of you the way,” Darcy said, giving a quick sharp bow. “I shall see you at supper.” With that, he turned to walk away.
As they followed the servants up the stairs, Elizabeth felt her elbow being grasped somewhat violently. She turned to see that Rosalyn was the culprit.
“You are acquainted with one of his cousins?” Rosalyn asked in a hushed, excited voice. “Why did you not tell me?”
Elizabeth looked at her with more than a little amazement, but answered quickly. “I did not know you were interested in Mr. Darcy’s cousin, as well.” She gave her a teasing smile.
“Of course not!” she said in a fervent whisper, squeezing her arm to bring her to a stop. “I have never met the man. Oh, Elizabeth, I do not mean to beleaguer you…” She let out a breathy huff. “I must confess, though, that there have been occasions when I have felt somewhat jealous of you and your earlier acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.”
“It was nothing, Rosalyn.” Elizabeth looked back to the stairs ahead of her as she began again to climb. She felt a tightening in her stomach as she repeated, “It was nothing.”
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, everyone was led down a hall and shown to their rooms. Their rooms were all situated closely, Elizabeth being in a room adjacent to Rosalyn, and Emily and her parents in separate rooms across the hall from them.
She followed the servant who carried her luggage into her chambers. Absent from Mr. Darcy she felt the freedom to sweep her eyes throughout the room, admiration filling her from everything she saw. She was in a corner room of the house, with large windows hugging each other where the walls met.
It was decorated with a slight feminine touch. Tiny flowers dotted the sheer window coverings and the thick coverlet on the bed. A sampler was hung prominently on one wall and a painting on another. A vase of fresh flowers displayed its array of colours atop a chest of drawers.
Stepping farther inside, she could almost imagine it being one of the finest rooms in the house; it was certainly finer than anything she had ever seen. When she took into consideration all she had seen of the house, however, she knew that there were most likely rooms of much greater consequence, particularly those of Mr. Darcy and his sister. This room was in all probability typical of what the others would be like.
The servant, having laid down her bags, bowed and stepped from the room. A maid then entered and walked over to a closet, opening the doors. When she disappeared within, Elizabeth could not stop herself from walking over and peeking inside. She almost bumped into the maid walking out.
“Is there any particular way you want me to unpack and put away your belongings, miss?” the maid asked.
“No,” answered Elizabeth, still gazing into the closet. Her mind went back to Rosings and how Mr. Collins commented on the astonishing shelves in the little closet. This closet had not only shelves but also beautifully stained wood drawers and was about as spacious inside as her room was back home.
Her stomach tightened as she considered home. What was her home now? It certainly was no longer Longbourn. She could not consider the Willstones’ home as hers. Her hand went up to her heart as the thought that this could have been hers pushed itself forward again.
“Is there anything not to your liking, Miss Bennet?” the maid asked as she looked over at her.
“No… no, it is more than suitable. Thank you.”
The maid smiled. “Have you seen the prospect outside your windows? I hope it is not too dark to see out now. Those two windows have the nicest views.”
Walking over to the two corner windows, Elizabeth pulled back one of the sheer window coverings and looked down at the lake in front. Even in the muted light of day, with the sun set beyond the horizon, it glistened. She could see the darkness of the dense trees in the woods beyond from which they came. She felt a flutter of excitement in the anticipation of walking through those woods.
She then peered out the other window. She looked out at what appeared to be a flower garden. “Is that a garden I see out this window?” she asked the maid.
“It certainly is… and it is blossoming with summer flowers of every hue. It has several natural paths that wind their way throughout, and one that takes you to the top of the ridge behind the home. Tomorrow you will be able to see just how beautiful it is!”
Elizabeth looked toward the back of the house and noticed the silhouette of a ridge. It did not seem terribly high, and she thought momentarily about how she might like to take the path to the top.
As Elizabeth turned away, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was grateful that she was no longer in mourning and had begun to wear colours again. For some reason that she could not clearly understand, the mere thought of walking through Pemberley and being in Mr. Darcy’s presence while dressed in drab blacks and greys was not something she wished to do, despite still missing her father exceedingly.
Elizabeth excused herself from the maid and walked across the wide hall to check on Emily. She peeked in and saw Emily pulling out a doll and her toys from a small bag. “Do you like your room, Emily?” she asked, walking in.
“Oh, yes,” Emily answered. “But I am glad to be in a room so close to Mama and Papa and you and Aunt Rosalyn. I think it is a very big house.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes it is,” she said as she walked over to the window and peered out. Emily’s room looked out over the back courtyard, and she could easily see both wings at either side that extended back. She could not even imagine how many rooms Pemberley had with its three stories and considerable length. She noticed once again the ridge behind the house and wondered what the view was from the top. She smiled as she considered that there would be much to explore here!
Elizabeth thought it was prudent that she take a tour of the house so she would become familiar with its layout and learn what areas there might be that were not open to her and Emily. But more than that, she was simply curious to see it. Rosalyn was more than happy to accompany her. Emily remained in her room to rest.
They encountered Mrs. Reynolds in the hallway, on her way to see if anyone wished to do that very thing. The Willstones declined, also wanting to rest, leaving only Rosalyn and Elizabeth to enjoy an intimate tour. The elderly woman, tall and stately with silver grey hair, began by giving them a brief history of the home, telling how it had been in the Darcy family for over two hundred years and had regularly provided a source of steady income for the villages nearby. She fervently told them that she had worked as housekeeper for twenty years, that she had been employed at Pemberley for over thirty-five years, and how the Darcys have always been greatly esteemed by all the servants, tenants, and local villagers.
She brought her hands together with a clap. “Well, enough of that. You wanted to see the house, so see the house we shall!”
As they walked down the hall, the housekeeper explained that most of the rooms in that wing of the house were guest apartments. “But here,” she said as she came to a stop, “is Miss Darcy’s favourite sitting room. Come in, please.” They stepped into a spacious room that occupied the opposite corner of the house from Elizabeth’s room. Instead of a window on each wall at the corner, there were two sets. In Elizabeth’s perception, it was two or almost three times as large as her room.
There were several plush chairs and sofas placed around the room. A writing desk and a number of tables occupied the space.
“We have another sitting room downstairs as well,” began Mrs. Reynolds, “but Miss Darcy is especially partial to this room. Most likely it is due to the large windows and the beautiful prospect overlooking the south and east.” As they looked about, she continued, “Miss Darcy spends much time here and often took her studies in here.”
“I can see why she enjoys this room so much,” effused Rosalyn. “It must be the finest room in the house.”
“It suits Miss Darcy, but it has had very little done to it over the years. I do believe her brother is planning to make some improvements on it for her… he dotes on her endlessly. But, oh, it is to be a surprise, so please do not mention it to her.”
“We would not spoil Mr. Darcy’s surprise for anything!” exclaimed Rosalyn. “He is certainly a wonderful brother!”
“Most attentive to his sister, yes. And to all his servants and tenants as well. I have never heard one complaint uttered against him.”
Rosalyn caught Elizabeth’s eye and, with a slight nod of her head and a smile, gave Elizabeth all the assurance she needed that Rosalyn had determined there was no man finer.
It is going to be a very long two weeks, Elizabeth thought to herself.
As they walked out, Rosalyn asked, “Is this room used solely by Miss Darcy? Does she consider it her private sitting room?”
“Oh, no. It is frequently used by our guests. Feel free to come in at your leisure. If Miss Darcy requires time alone, which she often does, she has a private room off her chambers that gives her all the privacy she needs. They are located just down the hall in the opposite direction from your rooms.”
Mrs. Reynolds extended her hand down the hallway. “In addition to Miss Darcy’s chambers, Mr. Darcy’s chambers are also located down this hall, as well as a beautiful suite that will one day belong to the Mistress of Pemberley, when he takes a wife. I have never seen a grander suite, but unfortunately, that wing is private.”
Mrs. Reynolds walked ahead. “Follow me, please.”
Elizabeth was not surprised when Rosalyn leaned in to whisper, “How I would love to see that suite!”
Elizabeth looked at her with a resigned smile. “Perhaps someday you shall.” Those words could not have made Rosalyn happier. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, they seemed to leave her mouth with a bad taste.
From there they went down the stairs. “You will see several of these rooms tonight, so I shall only point them out.” Turning at the bottom of the stairs, she showed them where the dining room and the parlour room were.
She then came to a stop in front of an open door.
“This is Pemberley’s greatest distinction. The library at Pemberley is one of the largest and most complete in the whole of Derbyshire. It is the Master’s determination and love of reading that keeps it growing and up to date. Shall we?” she asked as she allowed the two ladies to enter.
Elizabeth stepped in. Her gaze travelled down the length of the library in one direction and then the other. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. “I could lock myself up in here for a month and never come out!” she exclaimed as she spun back around. “It is beaut…” She stopped when she saw Mr. Darcy step out from a row of books.
“Hello, Mrs. Reynolds. Ladies.” He held a leather-bound book loosely in one hand, tapping it lightly with the fingers on his other hand. He looked at Elizabeth with a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I fear, Miss Bennet, you would grow quite hungry locked in here for a month. Unless, that is, you made arrangements with the staff to slip your food under the door. I cannot say I have ever heard of anyone surviving solely on a diet of books.”
Rosalyn’s laugh seemed to Elizabeth to be just a little artificial as she said, “You are so right, Mr. Darcy, but as Miss Bennet would most likely choose reading over any activity, including eating, she might determine to prove you wrong.”
“Well, then, it is settled. Arrange for Miss Bennet’s belongings to be brought down here, Mrs. Reynolds, as well as her meals.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. She was more grateful than she was surprised by Mr. Darcy’s light teasing. It at least removed the mortification she felt knowing he overheard her comment. “I thank you, sir, but my chambers are more than sufficient.”
“You are pleased with Pemberley then?”
She understood his question all too well. Nodding her head, she answered, “I am very well pleased.”
As if suddenly having an afterthought, he looked at Rosalyn. “And you, Miss Matthews, are your accommodations to your liking?”
A smile flashed across her face. “Oh! They are superb! Everything is positively splendid! I could not have asked for anything more!”
Darcy nodded his head. “I am glad to hear that. Now, if you will excuse me… unless, Miss Bennet, you are quite certain you do not wish to move in here. I can certainly make the arrangements.”
Elizabeth laughed. “As great a temptation as that might be, I must decline, for my duties as governess would prohibit that.”
His eyes narrowed for a brief moment, and then he replied, “Yes. Your duties.”
He gave a polite bow and then walked out of the library as the ladies stepped farther in. “Feel free to take some time to look around,” Mrs. Reynolds told them. “This is a wonderful collection. You are more than welcome to borrow any of the books to read while you are here. Just leave them on the desk when you are finished so they can be returned to their proper place.”
Elizabeth stepped in one direction and Rosalyn the other. As Elizabeth walked deeper into the library, the smell of leather and the dark, rich wood of the shelves made her think of her father. Her eyes glistened with tears as she thought just how much he would have loved spending time in here. It was her father who had passed the love of reading on to her. She walked to the far end, passed a row of shelves, and ran her fingers along the spines of the books, reading the array of authors and titles.
As she perused the books, her mind raced between thoughts of her father and also how Mr. Darcy had eased her discomfort just now. She had a sudden recollection of the look that had crossed his face when he questioned her about moving her belongings into here as being the same look as when they had been at Netherfield. It had been in the drawing room as she and Miss Bingley had been taking a turn about the room.
Her eyes widened at the thought that he had been teasing—or had he in truth been flirting?—when he had told them he could observe their figures better from where he sat. Her fingers continued to brush against the books as her mind raced in a turmoil. She had never before considered that his words had been directed toward her in that manner.
As she continued to turn all these thoughts over in her mind, her hand absently went from the books to a door at the far end. She reached down to the handle, and at only a light touch, the door opened. To her dismay, she found herself looking into a study.
Darcy was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his hands cradling the back of his head; his feet were stretched out and resting on top of the desk. At the sound of the door opening, he scrambled to right himself, pulling his feet down, standing up, and turning around.
Elizabeth froze, and could not step back and close the door soon enough. “I am so… so… sorry,” Elizabeth stuttered. “I did not know…”
Darcy reached for his coat, which he had taken off and had tossed onto the corner of his desk. He struggled to put his arm into its sleeve as he said, “No… no, it was my fault. I thought I had locked it.”
Elizabeth finally had the presence of mind to take some steps backward, her face flushed with embarrassment. She did not even attempt to close the door but quickly turned to remove herself as swiftly as possible. What was I thinking? she asked herself. What must he be thinking?
“Come, Elizabeth. We are moving on!” Rosalyn’s voice broke into her assaulting accusations against herself.
“Coming,” Elizabeth answered in a rather shaky voice, more than grateful to leave. As she quickly walked out of the library, she refrained from stomping her foot in frustration. He must think I am so impertinent… so imprudent… so… “Ohhh!” she let out in a huff.
“Here we are, Miss Bennet. Is anything amiss?”
Elizabeth smiled. “No, nothing at all.”
Mrs. Reynolds and Rosalyn were standing next to a closed door. “This is Mr. Darcy’s study,” she told them. “As he is now in here, we would not think of disturbing him. This is one place where he can come when he wishes to be alone. It is the one place where guests cannot go unless invited. Now, follow me.”
Elizabeth’s insides tightened as they walked past, and she felt that even to take a breath was a monumental chore. Yes, this was going to be a long two weeks, indeed!