Chapter 24
Darcy met the first glimpse of day with gratitude and relief. His night had been as difficult as many others in the last year.
The previous evening, when Elizabeth entered his library at a late hour, he was surprised and concerned.
Then, as had happened many times before, his temper betrayed him during their conversation.
Her words cut his heart, even more so as he knew the justice of her statements.
His responses expressed personal anger and disappointment; in only a few months of friendship, Georgiana had opened herself to Elizabeth more than with anyone else in their family.
He was happy —for his sister’s sake —but also sad, and it left him bewildered about how to proceed.
Yes, he had selfishly tormented his sister all those months, and if not for Elizabeth, he likely would have continued to do so without understanding the consequences.
The moment Elizabeth left the library, he understood that his fury —meant for himself —had harmed her too, and she did not deserve to be touched by his self-reproach.
In rage born of his recollections of the agonising past, he cast the blame on Elizabeth’s shoulders as bitter retribution for her sincere willingness to help Georgiana.
Elizabeth’s accusations from that day at the Parsonage were partially right, partially wrong, and she had already confessed to him that she regretted her words as well as her destruction of his letter.
But Georgiana’s pain was entirely his fault.
His reactions and behaviour alone were responsible —just as he was responsible for deciding what to do next: to take Elizabeth’s words to heart and make amends or to persist in his proud conceit.
The choice was easily made, but as he walked to his room, something drew him to Elizabeth’s chamber.
She was unlikely to be asleep after the harshness of their recent conversation.
He knocked with a heavy heart, but he knew he must apologise and settle things immediately, or he might not soon find another opportunity.
If it were for his torment alone, he would not dare make the extraordinary gesture of entering her room in the middle of the night.
But he suspected she was not at peace either, and he could not allow her distress to continue.
In the first moments of their reconciliation, he was oblivious to everything around him. When her soft, gentle voice told him that she forgave him and generously rejected his attempt to take the entire blame on himself, he finally found a bit of calm.
Only then did he observe her ravishing appearance, the same picture of pure beauty he had seen that night at the inn.
The only difference was the closeness that allowed him to enjoy her scent and warmth and permitted his eyes to caress the skin of her shoulder, covered only by thick strands of silky brown hair.
He hoped his stare was no longer than a heartbeat.
But he was so desirous of her and his thirst was so powerful that an instant was enough to imprint every detail of her beauty on his heart and mind.
He would remember them repeatedly in the loneliness of his room.
At dawn, he hastily dressed and left his apartment then the house. He was too restless to stay inside, so his destination was the stables.
All was silent and still; the horses neighed at his entrance while the dogs came to greet him. As expected, a moment later Todd —the main stable boy—appeared.
“Good morning, master; forgive me, I did not know you were to come so early. How may I serve you?”
“It is nothing, Todd, you may return to your rest. I just need a ride. I will prepare Black Runner myself. I have not ridden him this week, have I?”
“No indeed, master; he will be happy to join you. But will you not let me saddle him?”
“That will not be necessary; as I said, you may go back to sleep.”
“Yes master,” the young man replied, but he remained a few steps away until Darcy jumped into the saddle and Black Runner eagerly hastened his pace.
The dogs attempted to follow, but Todd called them back harshly.
If the master wanted their company, he would have invited them himself —that was the rule Todd had learnt years ago.
The night brought more rest than Elizabeth expected after such a distressing evening.
She awoke light of heart with her strength and spirits high.
She opened the window widely and looked outside.
It was too early to guess at the weather, but the fresh breeze brushed her face and made her smile.
The house was silent and breakfast still hours away, so she dressed and slipped out the door for a stroll.
It was not the first time she had done so.
In a month, Pemberley had become as familiar as her own home, and she frequently took a solitary walk before Georgiana awoke.
She would always greet Darcy’s staff and exchange a few words with them.
She knew each of the servants quite well, just as she knew the tenants and most of the people in Lambton.
She realised how much she would miss all of them when she returned to Longbourn.
“Miss Bennet! Good morning.”
She heard a voice then hoof-beats and saw Mr. Slade’s friendly figure dismount and bow to her.
“Good morning, sir.”
“You will not need the phaeton until after breakfast, will you? I hope I understood correctly.”
She laughed. “Yes, Mr. Slade; do not worry. I am only taking an early stroll before Miss Darcy and Lady Hardwick rise for the day.”
“Ah —I see. Walking is excellent exercise. May I join you?”
“Of course —it would be my pleasure.”
Mr. Slade dropped the horse’s reins then caressed his crest, spanked his hip, and pushed him gently until he started to run. Elizabeth’s astonishment met her companion’s smile.
“Do not worry —he will return to the stables. The boys will take care of him.”
“What if he runs away?” she inquired with concern.
“Why would he? He knows the way perfectly well, and everything he likes is there.”
Elizabeth glanced at the gentleman, who was still wearing a wide smile. The countess was right: Mr. Slade was one of the most handsome and impressive men she had ever met.
He must have been of her father’s age, but his strength, self-confidence, and vigour made him look completely different.
“How do you like Pemberley, Miss Bennet?”
“Exceedingly well. It is truly the most wonderful place, and I am sure I will greatly miss it.”
“Oh —will you leave soon?”
“I am not certain…not too soon…my sister and her husband —Mr. Bingley —will visit for Christmas, so I dare say I will not leave until then.”
“That is welcome news —to see Mr. and Mrs. Bingley soon and to know you will not leave Pemberley in the near future. I am sure Miss Darcy and Lady Hardwick will be content to have you here for as long as possible —as would we all.”
“Thank you, sir, you are too kind. It is I who feel privileged to be here and to have their friendship,” she replied warmly.
“You know, Miss Bennet, many young ladies have visited Pemberley in the last fifty years, but none has ever spoken more than a word of greeting to me —or with anyone on the staff.”
“Well, sir —that was certainly their loss,” she said with a smile, and Mr. Slade laughed.
“Now you are too kind, Miss Bennet —but your little compliment gives me pleasure, I confess, although it was more a comment than a complaint. I am perfectly content with my life, and I surely do not need more attention.”
“I know that Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Lady Hardwick consider you part of the family. They speak very highly of you; I am sure you know that.”
“Indeed —they are very generous to me. All the Darcys have been the same: generous, kindhearted, upright, and not easy with strangers.” Elizabeth felt slightly uneasy as if the statement were meant for her.
“True…the better one comes to know Mr. Darcy, the more evident is the excellence of his character,” she said.
Mr. Sloane looked at her briefly. “Yes, he is much like his father and his grandfather —only slightly better skilled in the management of the estates and a little more handsome.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to laugh, trying to conceal her uneasiness.
“On this, I must take your word, sir, as I was not fortunate enough to meet the other two Darcy gentlemen. I understand you have been with the family since Mr. Darcy’s grandfather? An extraordinary attachment to the family, I would say.”
“Yes…for fifty years…a lifetime. My attachment to them meant little compared to their lavish generosity to me. My father took care of old Mr. Darcy’s stables and horses —I mean the master’s grandfather.
He was content with my father’s services, and in exchange, he paid for my attending school.
After I graduated, he purchased me a commission in the army.
Even more, I was granted the friendship of the next Mr. Darcy.
Who would have done that for the son of a servant? ”
Elizabeth immediately thought of Wickham and his godfather —but kept the thoughts to herself. He likely attempted to follow his father’s example and show the same generosity to another young man he considered worthy of his support. Similar situations, different characters, such different outcomes.
“I understand you were severely wounded. Lady Hardwick told me…”
“Yes…by that time, I had the means to choose where I wished to spend the rest of my life, but I spoke to the late Mr. Darcy, and I returned to Pemberley. His death was a real tragedy, just as painful as Mrs. Darcy’s.
It is tragic that such wonderful people were gone too soon.
I have nothing left but to see their children continue their legacy. ”
Mr. Slade’s voice was so weighted by sadness that Elizabeth could barely hear him. The gentleman’s pain overwhelmed her, and she wondered what she could say to comfort him. But he continued to speak.