When Elizabeth awoke the next morning, a muted ray of sunlight penetrated the darkness of the room, announcing the dawn of a new day. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, she looked about her, feeling anew a great sense of admiration for her room, this house, and its grounds. Much to her dismay, she was feeling an ever increasing appreciation for its Master, which wrought in her a real sense of confusing disappointment, now that she would be considered so significantly beneath him.
While in the playroom the previous evening, in between conversing with Miss Bartley, reading a story to Emily, and listening to her read a story aloud, Elizabeth spent a good amount of time contemplating her first day at Pemberley. Truth be told, her contemplations dwelt mostly on Mr. Darcy and his conduct toward her. She had to admit he had treated her with kind civility, generous respect, and even playful teasing on occasion. She warmed at the thought.
Fisting both hands, she brought them down forcefully onto the coverlet. “What has come over me?” she whispered to herself. “I am no longer in a position to even consider this!”
She threw off the coverlet and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Raising both arms, she stretched and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a yawn. Elizabeth walked over to the windows and pulled back the sheer window coverings, looking first toward the front and then at the hill behind the manor.
Elizabeth gazed out at the early morning dawn, feeling it strangely beckoning her to take that walk to the top of the hill. Propelled by this thought, she quickly changed into one of her morning dresses and readied herself to go outside.
She quietly opened her door and stepped out, stopping as she did to listen for others who might be awake. Hearing only the distant clanging of pans from the kitchen, and the subsequent aroma from the baking being done there, she quietly made her way downstairs.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply as the aroma, most likely breads being baked, wafted stronger as she proceeded down the stairs. She pondered whether to inform one of the servants that she would be going out, but reasoned that since it was still early, she would likely return before most of the others came out of their rooms. Breakfast, they had been told, would be served at eight o’clock.
As she stepped out the door, she came to a halt. Her senses were pleasantly assaulted with a myriad of birds singing their songs to the rising sun. A light breeze played with the ribbons on her bonnet and a few loose strands of her hair. Looking out across the grounds, her eyes soaked in the glistening waters of the lake and the stream that fed it. Drawing her eyes upward, she marvelled at the blue sky that was dotted with just a few clouds, pink and orange in the morning sky. The dense green woods on the other side of the lake tempted her to come hither and explore.
But not this morning. They had travelled through the woods in their approach yesterday. The woody ridge behind the home might take a little exertion on her part, but she was determined to look for the path that would take her to the top.
Walking toward the back of the great house, she was delighted to find a footpath that looked well travelled and eagerly began her ascent. The path curved effortlessly up the hillside, and she turned occasionally to see the prospect below. The house stood majestically before her, so immense in stature and breadth that it blocked most of her view of the lake and some of the woods beyond from this lower height.
As she neared the summit, Elizabeth stopped to regain her breath and she turned again to look down at the house and grounds. She was now able to see the depth of the woods, the winding stream that they had followed coming in, and the house. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it, standing tall and proud, situated prominently upon a sloping rise.
As her eyes swept the panorama before her, she let out a soft sigh. If indeed Mr. Darcy had feelings of affection for Rosalyn, her own presence here was an unfortunate thorn he had to endure for the sake of their acquaintance. She gave a swift kick to a stone in front of her, sending it off into a nearby thicket.
She glanced one more time at Pemberley below and then continued on her way. When at last she reached the top, she was greeted with a breathtaking view across the valley of the distant peaks of Derbyshire. Little villages dotted the countryside, and she was able to see a rather large river winding hither and thither, sending off little streams in various directions or taking the waters from some that flowed into it.
The sun had already crested up over the peaks, and she felt the promising warmth of the day as it beat down on her. She felt a greater sense of admiration for the sight than she did exertion from the walk, but upon noticing a small bench, she walked over to it and sat down. Her eyes took in every pleasing scene below. She enjoyed this temporary respite from her duties as governess and the grief that still stung in the loss of her father.
A noise from farther along the ridge drew Elizabeth’s attention. She turned her head sharply in its direction, expecting to see an animal. Instead, she was startled to see Mr. Darcy emerge from around a clump of trees. He halted in his stride as he met her gaze.
A small smile emerged on his face. “Miss Bennet, I see that you have… again… discovered my favourite place of retreat.”
Elizabeth abruptly stood up as he continued to walk toward her. “Pray, forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I did not mean to intrude. Please excuse me.”
She turned to leave, but just as suddenly Mr. Darcy reached out, and his hand briefly touched her arm to stay her. Even after he had removed it, she could still feel the warmth of its imprint.
“Do not feel as though you must leave,” he said as he turned to look out over the valley. “The panorama is here for anyone to enjoy as long as they are inclined to take the short climb up. Unfortunately, not many do.”
“It is beautiful,” she said, tilting her head and letting out a soft sigh. “It reminds me of Cowper’s poems. The ones in which he is so descriptive of the land.”
“Ah, you enjoy Cowper?” he asked. His voice softened, as he turned his gaze to the view. “‘While far beyond, and overthwart the stream that, as with molten glass, inlays the vale, the sloping land recedes into the clouds; displaying on its varied side the grace of hedge-row beauties numberless…’”
“Yes, much like that one,” Elizabeth replied, her heart pounding so violently she was quite certain, in that hushed moment, that Mr. Darcy could hear it.
“I believe Cowper wrote that verse inspired by this view.”
Elizabeth turned her head toward him in surprise. “No! Surely you jest, Mr. Darcy. Besides, in that same poem he mentions the River Ouse, and that is definitely not the River Ouse we see down there!”
Mr. Darcy smiled, sharply raising his brow. “Perhaps he did not write the full poem inspired by this view, but I do speak the truth when I say he was once a guest at Pemberley, Miss Bennet, and I like to think that this view contributed to his imagery he painted with words.”
“He truly stood in this spot?”
Mr. Darcy nodded.
Elizabeth smiled and bowed her head in acquiescence. “I shall grant you then, that it may have inspired him in part, but it could have just as easily been from the view atop Oakham Mount near Longbourn, as Mr. Cowper lived in Hertfordshire, you know.”
Mr. Darcy gave a mock bow. “And so I shall grant you that, Miss Bennet.” After a moment of silence Darcy asked, “Did you arrive up here this morning in time to see the sunrise?”
“I am afraid I did not.”
“Then you must promise me you will come up here early enough some morning to see it. It is usually quite stunning. Will you do that?”
“I most certainly will try.” The quiver in Elizabeth’s voice betrayed her confusion, and she quickly added, “I must go. Emily will be waking soon.”
Mr. Darcy reached out and touched her arm again, this time letting his hand linger a moment longer. “Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s heart pounded and she slowly looked up into his face. “Yes?”
He took in a deep breath as his eyes met hers. He studied her face for a moment and then said, “I would not wish for your stay at Pemberley to be awkward. I want to assure you that you are welcome here. When I invited the Willstones and Miss Matthews to Pemberley, I was well aware that you would be included in their party, and I want you to know that I harbour no ill feelings regarding what transpired between us. It is, I hope, all forgotten.”
Elizabeth moistened her lips as she heard his words. They were comforting, and yet at the same time, not. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I understand. If you will excuse me…” She gave a slight curtsey as Mr. Darcy bowed, and turned to return down the path.
She did not look back to see if he followed. Her feelings swirled with confusion. She was grateful for his attempt to alleviate her discomfiture, yet wondered if his words were another indication of his fondness for Rosalyn. Certainly he did not want her to inform Rosalyn about his offer of marriage. “It is, I hope, all forgotten.”
Elizabeth kept her eyes on the path on the way down, rarely turning her gaze to Pemberley. She kicked a rock that lay in her path as she tried to drive away the intruding thought that now, when she was finally beginning to see the good man that he was, she was no longer his equal, and he had now turned his affections toward Rosalyn.
When she returned to the house, she went to her room to freshen up, and then helped Emily get ready for breakfast, all the while pondering the Master of this home.
When Elizabeth brought Emily downstairs, they were met by Rosalyn, who greeted the pair enthusiastically. “Elizabeth, I am about to burst with my thoughts and feelings. We must get ourselves away sometime today so we can talk. I must tell you all that happened last evening.”
Elizabeth forced a smile. “We shall have the whole morning before the picnic. Perhaps we can meet after breakfast?”
“Yes! That would be wonderful. Shall we meet in the sitting room Mrs. Reynolds showed us yesterday? We should be out of the way of others in there.”
Elizabeth could only nod in agreement to this scheme, for Mr. Darcy approached. “Good morning, ladies.”
The three ladies curtsied and wished him a good morning as Rosalyn suddenly grasped Elizabeth’s arm for support. Elizabeth was grateful that he did not make any reference to seeing her out while walking this morning. Extending his arm toward the dining room, he invited the ladies to join him.
“Miss Willstone,” he said as he looked down at Emily. “Would you do me the honour of taking my arm?”
Squealing with happiness, the young child rushed to take his arm. Rosalyn did not miss the opportunity and exclaimed, “And may I be so fortunate to take the other?” Without waiting for his response, she wrapped her hand gently around his arm, glancing back at Elizabeth in evident contentment. Elizabeth offered her another forced smile and followed behind.
This is where I now belong, she told herself. I cannot expect to be placed as an equal with the others. Particularly with Mr. Darcy.
The prospect of the picnic again dominated the conversation around the table that morning. While they were eating and engaged in this joyous conversation, a servant entered. Walking up to the head of the table, he said, “Two letters for you, Mr. Darcy, and one for you, Mr. Hamilton.” He then approached Elizabeth. “And a letter for you, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth looked down and recognized Jane’s handwriting immediately. A smile spread across her face as she broke the seal.
Hamilton looked at her. “Did you receive a letter from your family, Miss Bennet?” he asked.
“Yes! It is from…” Elizabeth stopped herself, knowing that to mention Jane might cause Miss Darcy distress. “It is from a sister.” Slipping it into her pocket, she said, “I shall read it later.”
After breakfast, Elizabeth took advantage of a few spare moments before meeting Rosalyn to read Jane’s letter. Emily had joined the other two girls in the playroom with Miss Bartley, and Elizabeth made arrangements with her that if she watched the girls in the morning, Elizabeth would return the favour and watch them for her in the afternoon.
Elizabeth sat down in a large wooden rocking chair in her room and reached into her pocket for the letter. She leaned back on an embroidered pillow, which gave her much comfort as she sat and rocked. She opened the letter and began reading.
My dearest sister,
You must know how much I miss you! It has been two weeks and I already long for our Sunday meetings. But I must also confess that I am truly happy. I will delay no longer and I shall tell you! Mr. Bingley has made me an offer of marriage!
Elizabeth’s heart began pounding as she read those words. Her heart burst with happiness for Jane. She was also well pleased that Mr. Bingley stood strong in defiance of Mr. Darcy, who had been so instrumental in separating the two of them initially. She continued reading:
Lizzy, I cannot even believe it has happened; I pinch myself often to make certain I am not dreaming. He spoke first to our uncle to get his permission. We went for a walk one afternoon, and he asked me as we sat on a bench in the park down the road. We shall marry in September. I do hope you can make arrangements to be in Town and will stand up with me.
You might be surprised, Lizzy, by our guest the day after you departed for the country. Mr. Bingley arrived with Mr. Darcy! He spent the whole afternoon and then remained to dine with us, and was exceptionally cordial to us all. He left soon after, but I must admit that he seemed to enjoy talking with our aunt about Lambton, while she enjoyed talking with him about Pemberley. We both commented to each other later that evening that he was quite amiable. It was certainly a surprise to us that he did not have that way about him that he did in Hertfordshire, although I never truly believed him to be as proud as so many others did. I hope that you have found him to be just as amiable as we did and are enjoying your stay at his Pemberley!
Elizabeth’s hands dropped into her lap. Could it be that he no longer felt his friend’s actions were foolish and he now supported his decision? Did he even know that Mr. Bingley was going to ask for her hand? She closed her eyes as she rocked in the chair, her smile never leaving her face. She rejoiced in her sister’s happiness until suddenly, her smile departed as she thought of Miss Darcy. What would this mean when she heard the news?
Tapping the letter in her hand, she decided that she would not allow concern for Miss Darcy to rob her of her delight. Miss Darcy need not know. In fact, no one needed to know until they left Pemberley. She would not even tell Rosalyn or the Willstones.
She finished reading the letter; Jane informed her she had no news from their family in Hertfordshire, and their aunt made a special request that she visit a close friend of hers, a Mrs. Ketterling, in Lambton. Elizabeth thought she might be able to do that on Sunday, which was two days away, and quickly penned a note to send to her, asking if she would be available for Elizabeth to pay her a call in the afternoon.
Elizabeth read Jane’s letter one more time, and she then proceeded down the hall to the sitting room, where she knew Rosalyn would be waiting. Just before she stepped through the door, she fisted her hands tightly for a second and drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. She could only imagine the things Rosalyn wished to talk about with her. And those things would all centre around one man—Mr. Darcy.
When she walked in, Rosalyn was standing at the window gazing out. Her hands were clasped together and tucked under her chin, almost as if in prayer.
When she heard Elizabeth walk in, she spun around and rushed over to her. “Come, sit, Elizabeth. I have so much to tell you.”
When Rosalyn had finished telling her about the previous evening, it was all Elizabeth could have expected. Rosalyn was more and more certain that Mr. Darcy was singling her out, and she acquainted Elizabeth with all that had occurred after she had left with Emily last evening.
“When the men finally returned,” Rosalyn spoke spiritedly, “Mr. Darcy came and sat by his sister and me. We talked for a good part of the next hour.” Rosalyn let out a breathy sigh. “I am quite of the opinion that he is pleased with my attentions to his sister.”
“Truly?” Elizabeth wondered whether it was more that he was protecting his sister from Rosalyn’s attentions.
She told Elizabeth how they played cards and Mr. Darcy and his cousin played chess, and then the evening concluded with Mrs. Goldsmith playing and singing for them.
“So what do you think?” Rosalyn asked as she folded her hands and placed them demurely in her lap.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Hmmm?”
“Are you of the opinion we have been invited here for my benefit?”
Elizabeth pursed her lips tightly together and then said very carefully, “He is a very eligible, handsome, and good man…”
“And rich,” added Rosalyn.
“Yes, so he is, and being such a man, he most likely wants to be certain he knows a woman quite well before he makes any kind of offer to her.”
“Oh, I hope I have pleased him. I know I am not as intelligent or witty as some women, but I do so want his good opinion.”
The breath caught in Elizabeth’s throat as she heard the words spoken that were quite opposite of the words she had lashed out at him. I have never desired your good opinion. Those had been her very own words to him, and yet she realized that now she, too, wished for his good opinion. She was quite certain it was too late.
The sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall drew their attention, and Rosalyn looked at Elizabeth in surprise. “Could the men already be done with fishing? Have we been here that long?”
They both looked toward the door and saw Mr. Darcy approach. He looked in, and upon seeing them, he stopped.
“Hello, ladies.”
“Hello, Mr. Darcy,” both ladies replied.
“How was fishing?” Rosalyn asked.
Darcy chuckled. “It is likely the other men will be at it all morning. I made certain they were all set up, and then I had to leave them to meet with my steward, Mr. Barstow.” He stepped into the room. “Are you enjoying this sitting room?”
“Oh, yes!” gushed Rosalyn. “It is very nice.”
“It is Georgiana’s favourite room. For the past year it has been my intention of surprising her and having it redecorated for her.”
“I think that would be such a wonderful surprise!”
“My only dilemma is how to decorate it and what colours and fabrics to use that would please her. That is not something about which I normally make decisions, and I have continually postponed it.”
He looked at both of them as he said this, but then looked at Rosalyn as she said, “Mr. Darcy, I would be more than happy to give you some advice.” She then began suggesting colours and fabrics he ought to use to decorate the room. Elizabeth was almost embarrassed as her friend went into great detail, even the amount of lace he should have in the curtains.
When she finished, Mr. Darcy looked at her oddly. “Thank you, Miss Matthews. I appreciate your recommendation.” With an awkward bow, he turned and walked out of the room.
Elizabeth was certain his earlier comment had not been one to which he expected an answer.
When they heard him enter through a door down the hall, Rosalyn grasped Elizabeth’s hands. “Do you realize what just happened?”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows pinched together as she said, “No, I am afraid I do not.”
“He wished to know how I wanted the room decorated, so that when Pemberley becomes mine, this room will be exactly as I want it to be.”
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped as she heard her words. “Rosalyn, you cannot be serious!”
“Yes! This is just the assurance I have been waiting for. I must go tell my sister!” Rosalyn left the room quickly, leaving Elizabeth stunned.
Elizabeth kept her eyes toward the empty doorway and shook her head. They had not even been at Pemberley one full day, and Rosalyn was already imagining herself as its Mistress.