Chapter 15
“It is a most impressive building,” Elizabeth proclaimed as they approached Government House, its yellow stucco walls rising several stories high into the hot Crucian air.
As was common with most houses on the island, numerous windows allowed the breezes to flow within to cool the occupants.
She had walked past Government House more than once with Mr. Darcy, but this was the first time she would enter the building itself.
“It is indeed,” Darcy agreed. “It was originally a private residence but was then purchased by the Danish government. Of course, when Denmark surrendered the island to England, it became the Governor’s residence.”
“I wonder who actually built it,” Elizabeth pondered.
“That is good,” Elizabeth replied with a sigh. “But how I wish that all were free.”
“That day must come,” Darcy agreed solemnly, “but come, we are almost at the door, and I hope you will enjoy yourself today after weeks of hard work.”
Elizabeth stopped abruptly and turned to her escort, “Do I look well, Mr. Darcy?”
He gazed at her in astonishment. Most women would have been seeking a compliment with these words, but he could see in the furrow of her brow real uncertainty.
“You look beautiful, Miss Bennet.”
And she did. Her lavender dress was not ornate, but she wore it with style and grace. Her glossy dark hair was piled high on her head with a few simple curls falling from a knot.
She nodded and took his arm again, “I feel unsettled that I am wearing lavender instead of black. It has been less than six months since my father died. But realistically, black is almost impossible in this climate. I am thankful for the Kendalls’ advice on that score; I only brought two simple black garments from England, as they said the color was too warm for St. Croix. ”
“Mourning rituals have their place, but I believe that they must bow to practicality,” Darcy assured her.
The door to Government House was standing open, with several couples climbing the steps to the outdoor landing.
Elizabeth forced herself to smile as she and Darcy mounted the stairs.
She felt an unaccustomed nervousness at attending a dinner party; so much had happened in the last months that she did not feel like carefree Elizabeth Bennet anymore.
She hoped she could be a pleasing conversational partner and that Mr. Darcy would not be put to shame.
/
“Would you care for some ragout, Miss Bennet?” Mr. Darcy inquired.
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled in amusement at this, as she was quite certain that he remembered ragout being offered at Netherfield Hall almost a year ago. She had declined it at the time, to Mr. Hurst’s astonishment and disdain.
“Yes, please,” she answered demurely, taking the dish from Mr. Darcy’s hand and placing a small portion on her plate.
“Which county are you from, Miss Bennet?” asked the Governor’s wife, Mrs. Bowyer.
The governor and his wife were both in their fifties, finely dressed, and had thus far been welcoming and kind.
Somewhat to Elizabeth’s surprise, she had been placed next to the governor’s wife with Mr. Darcy on her other side.
It was a rather prestigious position at the table for a simple girl from Hertfordshire, but no doubt she was elevated because she was the guest of Mr. Darcy, who was very highly connected indeed.
“I am from Hertfordshire, Madam.”
“Ah, yes!” the lady replied. “I have driven through that county several times, as Colonel Bowyer’s family estate is in Cambridgeshire. The views are lovely in your home county.”
“They are indeed,” Elizabeth exclaimed warmly. “When I was a girl, my favorite walk was to the top of Oakham Mount, just a short distance from my family home. One could see miles from the summit of the hill, and whether it was spring or summer or autumn or winter, it was lovely.”
“I must tell you, Mrs. Bowyer, that Miss Bennet is an inveterate walker,” Darcy commented fondly. “What to you or me might be a very long trek is a gentle stroll to Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth chuckled, “I have always been very fond of walking. One of the pleasures of my journey here to St. Croix is that I have been able to see such new and exciting scenes while I amble.”
Mrs. Bowyer then asked, “Do you find the streets of Christiansted attractive?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I do, very much, though I confess it is the ocean itself which truly delights me. I adore the waves breaking on the rocks and trickling across the sands, the birds wheeling overhead and diving in search of a meal, and the tiny sea creatures in the small pools surrounded by rocks. It is remarkable.”
“I agree completely! The excess heat often makes me disinclined to walk the beaches of this fair island, but perhaps I will make more of an effort when the weather grows a little cooler. It is always very warm, of course, but in January and February, it is not quite as warm. I also prefer the cooler months as there is minimal chance of a major storm.”
“Are there often serious storms?” Darcy asked in concern.
Mrs. Bowyer shook her head and took a drink of tea, “Not often, certainly, though every decade or two, a hurricane makes landfall with extremely high winds. I have never experienced one and do not anticipate that I will.”
“That is good,” Darcy said in relief. “Miss Bennet, would you care for some pineapple?”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, yes!”
Elizabeth accepted a few chunks of pineapple and took a delighted bite, only to be distracted by the sight of a young maid, an Englishwoman based on her appearance, carrying in a tray with an elaborately iced cake on it.
“Oh, how lovely!” Elizabeth murmured, causing Mrs. Bowyer to smile.
“It is Colonel Bowyer’s birthday,” the lady explained. “I thought it would be pleasant to celebrate it with a cake.”
Elizabeth’s mouth watered at the sight of the cake while her brain worked busily at a sudden question. How long had it taken the cook to bake such a masterful confection?
“I am sorry, Mrs. Bowyer?” she asked, aware that she had missed the woman’s last question.
“Do you play the pianoforte or sing?”
“Yes to both, though I am not a master at either.”
“I find Miss Bennet’s playing and singing to be quite delightful,” Darcy stated firmly.
Mrs. Bowyer smiled knowingly at this, provoking another blush from Elizabeth.
“I believe your sister, Miss Darcy, plays exceedingly well on the pianoforte, does she not?” Elizabeth inquired.
“Yes,” Darcy agreed fondly. “Music is Georgiana’s great delight. She practices many hours a day and her music masters are most pleased with her progress.”
“Your sister is back in England, Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bowyer, she is.”
“Well, in the absence of Miss Darcy, I hope you will be willing to play for us after dinner, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth winced internally at this. She had not practiced for many months and was quite definitely not in her finest form. Nonetheless, there was nothing else to do but accept.
“I would be honored, madam.”
“If you will excuse me a few minutes, Miss Bennet,” the governor’s wife said, rising to her feet, “I must arrange for the cutting of the cake.”
“Of course.”
Elizabeth turned to Darcy, who was gazing at her lovingly.
“Truly, you are a most enjoyable performer on the pianoforte, and you have a charming voice,” he encouraged her.
She smiled at him tremulously, suddenly aware of how handsome he was, how very kind, how good. She quite thought she was in love.
/
Elizabeth hurried down the stairs of the parsonage, rapidly shoving hairpins into the casual bun of hair.
The previous night’s dinner party had been pleasant, her playing had been better than she expected and she had come home in a mood of delighted relaxation and fullness.
While she was not underfed at the parsonage, she was never stuffed to repletion.
She had gone to bed late and slept well into the morning, only waking when a vagrant sunbeam crept between the gap in her curtains to strike her rudely in the eye. She had leapt out of bed in a panic, thrown on her clothes and rushed to the kitchen.
“I am sorry I am so late,” she exclaimed to Sarah and Rebekah, who were dealing with the washing and bread baking.
“It is quite all right, Miss Bennet,” Rebekah said for both of them. “Please go to the dining room and have some breakfast. I believe Mr. and Mrs. Kendall were hoping to see you when you woke up.”
Elizabeth obediently scurried off to the dining room where her two hosts were indeed eating a late breakfast.
“Mr. Kendall, Mrs. Kendall, I am so sorry I am late!” she exclaimed, hastily sitting down and reaching for a slice of bread.
“Relax, Elizabeth,” Helena assured her, taking a sip of tea and smiling at her guest. “We deliberately kept quiet to allow you to sleep long after a late night. How was the party?”
“It was very enjoyable,” Elizabeth replied, taking a bite of bread, chewing and swallowing.
“Enjoyable but odd,” she continued thoughtfully.
Helena took a careful bite of mango, “Odd in what way?”
“It was very surreal,” Elizabeth returned.
“Except for the tropical heat, it was exactly like other dinner parties I attended back in England. Government House is ornate, everyone was dressed beautifully, and the food was elaborate and well cooked. But this time, I kept thinking about how long it must have taken to decorate the dining table with flowers, to cook the ragout, to make the cake in celebration of the governor’s birthday.
In the past, I never even considered how much work the servants did to provide all that I took for granted. ”
“I would say that is a very good thing,” Mr. Kendall said approvingly. “To be aware of the blessings of your life, to be grateful to others for their service, is wonderful.”