As they continued down the hall, they came to a pair of closed double doors. Mrs. Reynolds turned to the two ladies before opening them. “This is Pemberley’s ballroom. Throughout the years, many guests have been in awe of its splendour and grandeur when they step in. Unfortunately it has been a very long time since a ball was held here.”
She turned to open the doors, and as they swung open, Elizabeth and Rosalyn followed Mrs. Reynolds in. They both gasped as they gazed around the room. It was unlike anything Elizabeth had ever seen; certainly nothing in her neighbourhood in Hertfordshire even came close to being its equal. Stepping in, Elizabeth could almost hear the music, see the women in their fashionable gowns dancing under the candlelit chandeliers, and feel the delight of the guests.
Rosalyn walked aimlessly about the room, her eyes bright, her jaw dropped. She took a step out toward the centre of the room and spun around with arms stretched out wide, as if taking a step in a dance and being twirled by her partner. “If only we could have a ball while we are here,” she whispered to Elizabeth, tucking her hand through her arm. “It would be quite heavenly.”
With great reluctance they left the ballroom. Mrs. Reynolds then pointed out the downstairs sitting room, and indicated to Elizabeth where the children’s playroom and nursery were located. Elizabeth’s heart and mind were seized with the realization that those rooms were now her world, much more so than a ballroom. She doubted, in her current position, that she would ever attend a ball in such a place as this.
They came to another set of stairs with two hallways going in separate directions from it. She described one wing as being the servants’ quarters, and the other wing as being additional apartments that were rarely used. She advised them that the sickroom was the first room down the servant’s hallway.
“We shall take these stairs back up. They will take us through the portrait hall, past the music room, and then to the hallway that goes back to your rooms. Very nicely planned, Pemberley is.”
They ascended the grand staircase, and Mrs. Reynolds described in detail how the exquisite woodwork and tile had come from different places around England and Europe, and the paintings that lined the walls were acquired by the late Mr. Darcy on his journeys.
Elizabeth was surprised she was able to attend to Mrs. Reynolds’ words, as her mind still raced with the mortification she felt in walking into Mr. Darcy’s study unexpectedly… unannounced. She unwittingly let out a sigh of frustration.
Upon hearing her, Rosalyn leaned in close and whispered, “It is all breathtaking, is it not?”
Elizabeth merely nodded in accord, being content to allow Rosalyn to believe it was her admiration of the place that prompted her sigh. As she looked around her, however, she had to agree with Rosalyn’s estimation of Pemberley. Breathtaking.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, they found themselves in the portrait hall. Mrs. Reynolds began by explaining that the portraits at this end of the hall were the oldest, and at the far end hung the more recent paintings. She pointed out names and ancestral connection to the present Mr. and Miss Darcy as they walked between the myriad of faces looking down at them.
As Elizabeth glanced up at each face, she found herself searching for any similarity between the person in the painting and that person on whom she’d just so rudely walked in. She did, on occasion, see the crook of the mouth, the shape of the nose, or the deep-set brown eyes that belonged to Mr. Darcy. She wondered if Rosalyn was doing the same. A quick look at her friend revealed an interest solely in a portrait at the far end of the hall. Mr. Darcy’s.
As they drew closer to that portrait, Elizabeth felt Rosalyn’s hand grip her arm, as if prodding her because she was not walking briskly enough. They soon found themselves looking up at the larger-than-life portrait of Mr. Darcy standing outside. A large tree trunk framed him on one side, and the leafy branches arched over him. He stood atop a hill, and it looked like the peaks of Derbyshire were spread out behind him in the distance. He looked particularly content in his surroundings. Dressed immaculately, he had an air of distinction about him.
“It is a wonderful likeness of him!” gushed Rosalyn. “He is such a distinguished man!”
“Oh, indeed, he is,” agreed Mrs. Reynolds. “Quite fastidious about being proper in all things.”
A small smile began to form on Elizabeth’s face as she reflected upon her recent encounter with him. While she was deeply embarrassed by her injudicious manners, she realized he must have been just as mortified being caught in such an undignified posture. His look of surprise was not merely due to her walking in on him, but by being seen in such a fashion, leaning casually back in his chair, with his feet propped up on the desk, his coat tossed casually over the corner of it.
She could not prevent a giggle from escaping as she contemplated this, all the while Rosalyn and Mrs. Reynolds affirmed each other in their noble opinion of the man. The both stopped and looked questioningly at her.
“Elizabeth?” Rosalyn asked, her eyes displaying her displeasure. “What do you find so humorous?”
Pressing her fingers up to her mouth to conceal any further laughter, she shook her head as tears of repressed laughter filled her eyes. How she could feel so mortified one moment and laugh about it the next, she could not comprehend. She certainly did not know how to answer Rosalyn.
“I am sorry,” she said, as she again thought of the disparity between the man in the study and the fastidious man he wished for all to see. “My mind was on other things. Pray, forgive me, for I was not being particularly attentive.” As she looked back up at the painting, she suddenly wondered who the real man was.
Rosalyn smiled a reluctant acceptance and turned back to Mrs. Reynolds, who seemed eager to talk about the final portrait.
“This is Miss Darcy, painted just a year ago. Her brother arranged for the sitting, and we are all pleased with the results. Do you not think it a remarkable likeness?”
“Yes,” both ladies answered.
“She is certainly handsome,” added Rosalyn. “A very fine young lady, indeed.”
“And her brother has had such a hand in her upbringing,” Mrs. Reynolds added. “He is so good to her and has always been there for her. It was very difficult when their father passed, but Mr. Darcy stepped into the role of guardian admirably.”
“Such uncommon devotion,” sighed Rosalyn.
“Yes, one would be hard pressed to find a brother who has taken care of his sister as well as he has Miss Darcy.” Mrs. Reynolds clasped her hands together. “Up ahead is the music room. Follow me, please.”
Before continuing on, the two ladies both looked up again at the portrait of the Master of Pemberley. Each had a whirlwind of thoughts concerning the man whose likeness they scrutinized one last time.
Elizabeth thought there was something different about him in this portrait, but she could not readily define it. It was the manner of his posture, the expression on his face, which entirely conflicted with what she knew of him—with what she thought she knew of him.
Turning together, the two young ladies caught up with Mrs. Reynolds, who entered a room at one end of the hall.
They both gasped when they stepped inside. A beautiful pianoforte had prominence in the centre of the room. Surrounding it were chairs and sofas. A harp was in the corner.
Mrs. Reynolds turned to face them. “This pianoforte was given to Miss Darcy last year on her sixteenth birthday from her brother. She practices several times a day, so you most likely will hear the young lady play while you are here. I am quite certain you will appreciate how proficient she is.”
“Will she perform for us?” Rosalyn asked.
“She may, although she is somewhat shy about performing before others. You will be especially honoured if she does.”
“And the harp?” asked Elizabeth.
“The harp was the late Mrs. Darcy’s instrument. She played beautifully. Now it is only played by guests with that talent. Mr. Darcy loves to listen to the harp. Do either of you play?”
Both ladies shook their head. Rosalyn looked most disappointed, and Elizabeth believed her to be chiding herself for never having learned the instrument.
Mrs. Reynolds clasped her hands together. “This is the wing where your chambers are located. It appears we have less than an hour before the meal. That should give you enough time to freshen up.”
She then excused herself, leaving the two ladies to return to their chambers. Elizabeth stopped to check on Emily, and upon finding her asleep, she quietly closed the door and returned to her chambers. She was grateful for some time to be alone before she returned to Emily’s room to ready her. It allowed her to ponder all that had happened, all that she had seen, and all that might happen in these next two weeks. She assumed Rosalyn could only be contemplating the same.
Just before the supper hour, Elizabeth awakened and dressed Emily for the meal. As she readied her, Elizabeth talked with her about the importance of displaying good manners. Despite her own awkward display of ill-manners earlier, she could only hope that Emily would be a model of all that Elizabeth had taught her.
“Remember, Emily, that you do not interrupt conversation. Only speak to the adults if you are spoken to. If no one talks during the course of the meal, you must remain silent yourself. We are guests, after all, and must observe Mr. and Miss Darcy and follow their example.”
“I will remember,” Emily said in a melancholy voice. “But what if no one talks? I must remain silent the whole time?”
Elizabeth recalled the meals she had taken when Mr. Darcy was present. He was not an avid talker. From what she had seen of his sister, she was even less of a talker. “If no one is talking, we must assume they prefer to eat in silence, and we will abide by their wishes.”
Emily pursed her lips in a brief pout, but it was soon forgotten.
As the dinner hour approached, they joined the others in the hallway before walking down to the dining room. Taking her place with Emily behind the others, Elizabeth paused briefly as she wondered whether she and her ward would even dine with the others. She told herself not to be disappointed if they did not.
As they drew near the dining room, they could hear voices and laughter. Mrs. Willstone turned to Rosalyn with a wide smile and said, “This sounds like a lively group!” She reached over and tucked in a wayward lock of her sister’s hair. “Remember to be gracious and friendly to Mr. Darcy’s guests. It will be to your benefit to gain their good opinion.”
“You know I will. You are beginning to sound more like Mama every day!”
“Since she is not here, I rightly assume that responsibility.” Both ladies softly laughed.
The party walked in and as they were noticed, faces turned to them with welcoming smiles. Mr. Darcy promptly joined them and greeted them with a short bow.
“Good evening. I trust that all of you have had a restful afternoon after your travels and that you have found your rooms equally comfortable and accommodating.” A fleeting look was directed at Elizabeth, and then with a slightly raised brow he said, “I hope you have not encountered anything too indecorous.”
“Of course not!” exclaimed Rosalyn exuberantly as Elizabeth’s cheeks took on a deepened hue and her heart pounded erratically.
Quickly turning to his other guests, Mr. Darcy made the introductions. “May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Richard Willstone, their daughter Miss Emily Willstone, and Mrs. Willstone’s sister, Miss Rosalyn Matthews?” After pausing slightly, he looked hesitantly over to Elizabeth, an inexplicable glint in his eyes. “And this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Emily Willstone’s governess.” As all eyes had now turned to her, she hoped the blush upon her cheeks had paled.
He followed with introductions of his other guests. “These are my good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Goldsmith, their children Misses Gladys and Harriet Goldsmith, and their governess Miss Ellen Bartley.”
Looking over at a gentleman who stood off by himself, he continued, “This is my cousin, Mr. Peter Hamilton. He is the son of my late father’s sister.” He looked over to Georgiana and nodded, encouraging her to continue.
Stepping forward at her brother’s prompting, she softly said, “Shall we all be seated? I believe supper is ready to be served.” The young girl gestured toward the table, and everyone walked in.
Since there was no indication where anyone was to sit, Elizabeth watched Miss Bartley to see where she and her two wards seated themselves. Both of the girls looked to be a little older than Emily. She was pleased that Emily would have some companions with whom to play while here. To Elizabeth, it appeared that Miss Bartley might be close to the age of her mother, and she was suddenly gripped with the dreadful thought that perhaps she, too, might remain an unmarried governess for the duration of her life.
When Miss Bartley and the girls took seats at the far end of the table, Elizabeth and Emily joined them.
Miss Darcy took her place at the centre of the table, leaving two seats between her and her brother, who sat down at the head of the table.
Elizabeth could see the struggle Rosalyn faced in deciding where to sit, and finally, she took the chair next to Miss Darcy. Elizabeth wondered how difficult a decision that must have been for her to show preference to the young girl over the one with whom she was so enamoured.
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 Matthews 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.