Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“We have only one stage remaining,” Bingley said as their party stood in the inn yard whilst the horses were exchanged for fresh ones. “We ought to be there by noon.”
It felt good to be released from the confines of the carriage.
Elizabeth shifted her shoulders back and turned her neck from side to side.
Every turn in the road varied the gorgeous prospect and exhibited new beauties.
Here in Derbyshire, the picturesque-loving tourists would have all of their wishes gratified.
The dales must be explored through their various windings, and the hills scaled to their highest points of elevation.
Such a beautiful place!
Elizabeth and Jane and Bingley had been travelling for a fortnight, staying several days with this friend or that so Bingley could proudly introduce his bride as they travelled towards Scarborough.
Bingley’s circle seemed to know no bounds.
He said that they would next meet his friend and his widowed sister, and their friend who was studying the law.
Elizabeth understood that at this next home they would stay a fortnight, and it would be good to have the opportunity to cultivate a new acquaintance and have a break from always sitting on the fold-down seat in Bingley’s chaise.
“The reception you meet with at inns is exactly proportioned to the style in which you arrive,” Caroline was saying to Louisa in a low voice. “One who travels in a post-chaise is treated with more civility, but of course must pay for it.”
Louisa looked around the inn yard in distaste. “Indeed. The stage traveller passes unnoticed.”
Elizabeth moved farther away to avoid hearing more and to take in a better view of the valley. The charm and character of this place, the green of the rugged environs, lifted her spirits.
Elizabeth was grateful that she had been spared much of Caroline’s company since they joined the Hurst party yesterday to travel into Derbyshire.
Caroline rode in the Hursts’ chaise whilst she rode with the Bingleys.
The two groups met only briefly in inn yards or at meals.
In the morning, Caroline was too tired to be supercilious and, in the evening, only complained about the nuisances of travel.
In general, Bingley’s sisters were civil, and their kindness to Jane, such as it was, was due to their affection for their brother.
And enough of their civility spills over onto me to make our journey tolerable.
For once it was not raining, and whilst it was not a hot day, Elizabeth tilted her face up to feel the sun’s warmth.
This escape from Meryton, the novelty of travelling and meeting new people, and now this beautiful country had been good for her equanimity.
The events of the spring did not press on her mind as often as they once did.
“If not for the rain, we might have made it last night,” Bingley said, “although I cannot say that Darcy would have been pleased to have his dinner interrupted.”
“What!” Elizabeth turned so quickly her bonnet slipped off and dangled from its ribbons around her neck.
Caroline and Louisa stopped listening to Jane as she, too, cried out in surprise and came nearer.
“Charles dear, what did you say?” she asked. “What did you say about Mr Darcy?”
Bingley gave his wife a confused look. “We might have arrived at Pemberley last night, but—”
“Pemberley!” Elizabeth cried. She had not misheard, and now Bingley’s sisters were looking at her in confusion. She had to control her emotions before she was forced to explain herself.
“I thought we were to stay with your friend Mr Balfour and his sister, Mrs Lanyon?” Jane asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “And I thought we were to stay with your friend Mr Utterson.”
“Oh, Eliza! How can you be so mistaken?” Caroline had joined them.
“Mr James Utterson does not have an estate.” She laughed as though this was absurd.
“He is a younger son, although an honourable. He is keeping the term at the Inn of Court.” She turned to Jane.
“And Mr Balfour will inherit Hyde House in Haddingtonshire on his father’s death.
How did you think a Lowland Scot had a home in Derbyshire? ”
Jane turned to look at Elizabeth with an expression of horror.
“Oh, Lizzy, I did not . . . Charles, you led us to believe that—” Jane took a calming breath.
“What great confusion we are all in. We have met so many people and been travelling so long that you have not been clear as to where we shall stay.”
“I am sorry, my dear.” Bingley gave her a concerned look. “I daresay I have been as careless with this visit as some of the others. Remember when we arrived in Birmingham and I forgot entirely that Danvers—”
“Charles!” Jane cried. Elizabeth’s stomach was churning horribly. “Charles dear,” Jane began again in a tranquil tone, “you said we have one stage left. Tell us where we are staying for the next fortnight and who will be there.”
“At Pemberley with Darcy, and his sister.” Elizabeth gave a soft whimper, but no one save Jane appeared to hear.
“He shall be very glad of it, too. He was eager to give you notice, my dear, to show you a kindness after . . . well, when I said we were travelling to Scarborough and visiting friends, he insisted we stay with him.”
Elizabeth could only just collect herself to be pleased to know that Darcy wanted to cultivate an acquaintance with Jane. But nothing could remove her alarm at the thought of residing for two weeks with Darcy. How does he feel about my coming?
“My friend Balfour is there, amiable man—his father is a Scottish nabob and his mother an Indian. He talks more than I do and has even less ambition.” Bingley laughed.
“His sister is a wealthy widow, a year older than Balfour and Darcy, and an elegant woman. And Utterson is a few years older than me and will be a barrister, since his brother will inherit the baronetcy.”
“Charles dear, does Mr Darcy know whom you are bringing with you?” Jane asked. “Does he know that Lizzy is with us?”
Bingley shrugged. “I said I was bringing my sisters and Hurst. I did tell him that Lizzy lives at Netherfield, and if I did not explicitly put her name to paper when I mentioned my sisters and me coming to Pemberley, and he is surprised to see her, then he is a greater simpleton than I thought possible. How could it matter? He knows Lizzy. And Darcy is a generous man who would welcome anyone I brought.”
Oh, he will hate the very sight of me. She watched husband and wife exchange a look, and Bingley then asked softly, “Is Lizzy not wanting to stay at Pemberley?” He dropped his voice even farther. “Why does she dislike Darcy so much?”
Elizabeth had to say something because Jane was struggling for an answer.
“It is not that I dislike him. He . . . he appears to have”—how can I explain the cold reception that awaits me?
—“a coldness under his courteous demeanour that is not congenial to my mind.” She quickly added for Bingley’s benefit, “I am sure those on familiar terms with him would say otherwise but . . . we hardly know one another. I doubt that Mr Darcy wishes to strengthen any connexion with me.”
Bingley looked confused. “You are the most cheerful woman of my acquaintance. He is a little reserved at times, but he is an amiable man. You have tastes in common, I think. You and Darcy are certain to be on more familiar terms in a fortnight.”
Elizabeth felt horribly distressed. She had no business at Pemberley. She blushed at the very idea of residing in his house, at seeing Darcy at all. Would he think that she was throwing herself in his way?
Caroline and Louisa took notice of her behaviour. “Eliza, do you dislike the idea of staying at Pemberley?” Caroline asked. “George Wickham, who I recall was a favourite of yours, passed his youth there.”
Rather than pierce her, Caroline’s barb strengthened her. Elizabeth took a breath and answered, with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. “I am merely excessively surprised.”
The horses were ready, and she climbed into Bingley’s chaise with what she hoped was a calm and cool air.
For the remainder of the journey, she tried to keep her eyes on the scenery, the hills and valleys, and all the rich varieties of nature that had previously captivated her.
In truth, the only thing she saw, in her mind’s eye, was the expression on Darcy’s face when he had said, “Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” That haughty composure was certainly the best she could expect from him.
Darcy might be taken by surprise, or he knows I am coming and could not refuse my company for the sake of his friendship with Bingley. Either way, his resentment would be exceptional.
As they drove along, she watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation and, when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.
Although in agony at seeing Darcy’s reaction to her, she could not help but admire the beautiful wood.
Jane and Bingley talked about every point of view, but Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation.
She silently admired every remarkable spot until she saw the house.
It was a large, handsome stone building, a beautiful family seat near the stream, situated on the opposite side of a valley.
It was a stately centrepiece on high and commanding ground, and she gasped at the sight.
“What do you think, Lizzy?” Bingley asked, knowing full well that anyone of sense must admire it.
“I have never seen a place for which nature has done more.” Elizabeth wished she could be warmer in her admiration—for the wood and the house deserved it—but she was struck that if she had said yes in April, she would have arrived here as Darcy’s bride.
She could not feel regret, but to be Pemberley’s mistress might be something.