Chapter 14
Elizabeth climbed down from the carriage with her stomach in knots.
Mr. Darcy’s vague comments about Pemberley had not prepared her for her first sight of the beautiful house.
Reflected in a large, clear lake, it seemed to go on forever.
The white walls and windows gleamed in the September sunlight.
To either side of the main building were sprawling wings at least four floors high, with chimneys that seemed to rise into the clouds themselves.
After that there were stables, a laundry, dovecotes, an ice-house…
Even more breathtaking were the grounds.
The driveway could have easily contained half of Meryton.
Tall trees cast fresh green shade over the stones.
To either side, catching the dust, high yellow grass gently perfumed the air and made her nose tickle.
Sycamores were scattered about the huge field.
The warm autumn wind made their seeds dance and whirl over the newcomers like a fairy ballet.
Ten thousand a year. Elizabeth thought, watching a squirrel keeping pace with the carriage, leaping between the yellowing oak trees. It was just a number to me. He’s from a different world!
Darcy had watched her reaction with pleasure, but the closer they got to the house, the quieter he became. He was not blind to its beauty, even after so many years, but he knew what lurked within.
He handed Elizabeth down from the carriage himself but was too distracted to notice the panicked look in her eyes. His attention was fixed upon his sister’s window. All else had faded.
As she stood in Pemberley’s shadow with the comforting carriage rattling away to the stables, Elizabeth wished that she had gone to Italy after all. The ancient ruins would intimidate her far less than this pristine marvel. Even the assembled servants made her heart race.
Before they even made it to the steps, Darcy beckoned one of the servants over. “How is my sister?”
The maid, a hatchet-faced woman in a severe brown dress, stared insolently back at him.
“How should she be, sir?” she retorted, “What do you expect?”
“That is enough, Miss Crocker.” another woman interrupted smoothly. Stepping in between the sour woman and her master, she curtseyed. “Miss Darcy is in the music room, sir. I believe she is awake.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Has there been any improvement?”
Miss Crocker scoffed. Mrs. Reynolds’ eyes darted over for a moment, angry but mute. Then she looked back at Mr. Darcy and smiled calmly. “Miss Darcy is unchanged, sir. She is no worse.”
“But no better.”
Mrs. Reynolds sighed, “Just so, sir.”
“I shall go to her at once.” Darcy said. He was halfway up the steps when Mrs. Reynolds tactfully cleared her throat. Following her gaze, he saw Elizabeth standing awkwardly some paces behind him.
The line of servants were barely blinking.
This was not how a lady of the house was supposed to arrive!
They had expected a fine dress, a beautiful carriage and an attentive master.
They were ready to receive the woman with pomp.
They were wearing their finest clothes, neatly pressed; she was wearing a plain but pretty gown and barely any decorations at all.
The glitter of a silver necklace was strung around her elegant neck, but other than that she looked decidedly like a country miss.
Every one of the servants drew their own conclusion from that.
Their looks were speculative. The gossip in the kitchen that evening would be full of gasps and shaking heads.
They prided themselves on being staff at Pemberley, an enviable employment where they could see the elite. Mrs. Darcy certainly was not that.
Some of them were even soured by the sight. Clearly there was something strange about their master’s marriage. The woman’s belly was flat enough, and there wasn’t the look of a temptress about her, but their minds flew at once to compromise.
The way the master ignored his new wife was the final clue. Many of the servants immediately resolved to treat her with the disdain he seemed to feel.
“Ah.” Mr. Darcy faltered but took no step towards his wife. The servants exchanged looks even as he said, “Elizabeth, I apologise. I did not mean to…”
“Go to your sister. I understand.” Mrs. Darcy said at once. “I shall meet the staff with the help of Mrs….?”
“Reynolds.” the woman helped, but lowered her voice to a diplomatic murmur, “It is not quite the done thing, madam.”
“Is it not? Well, today we shall do it, and then it will be the done thing.” The lady replied with unexpected wit. Miss Reynolds caught sight of the torn expression on Mr. Darcy’s face. Then he turned to hurry up the steps alone.
Perhaps the new Mrs. Darcy was expecting an easy afternoon, but it was not to be.
All of the household staff had to be greeted, and the senior staff spoken to at length.
They were a little cold, perhaps, but bowed politely and kept their eyes lowered.
Elizabeth smiled and tried to be friendly, but it was like speaking to a brick wall.
She glanced at the housekeeper, who was frowning, but made no comment.
Then there were the grounds staff, who gathered beside the stables with their hats in their hands and their eyes bright and curious.
They had not the judgement of the other servants.
Their eyes did not see a scandal, but a hale young woman who looked like she would spend much time in the grounds.
When she spoke of the beautiful driveway their smiles grew.
They mentioned a few favourite parts of the gardens, and the mistress insisted on being shown them at once.
The little group walked slowly through the grounds, pointing out every fine bloom and cultivated trellis. Mrs. Darcy expressed her like of cattails and asked if there were otters on the estate. The groundsmen were delighted to answer. Within ten minutes they were making a circuit of the lake.
Mrs. Reynolds wondered why they were staying outside. The young lady was pale with weariness and surely wanted to see the inside of the house. The answer hit her like a chiming bell: Mrs. Darcy was deliberately keeping her distance, so that her husband might reunite with his sister in peace.
The housekeeper’s respect for her new mistress rose.
This new warmth came with the revelation that she would be a terrible person if she permitted Mrs. Darcy to exhaust herself.
After the gardener had extolled the next marvel (some kind of exotic shrub that looked much like any other bush to the housekeeper’s indifferent eye) she offered to show Mrs. Darcy the house.
“Oh, but the garden is so lovely!” the lady’s voice was bright, but she rubbed her temple idly with one hand.
“We shall not disturb the master.” Mrs. Reynolds promised softly, “I can show you straight to your room, madam, so that you can refresh yourself.”
Mrs. Darcy shot her a narrow look, but the housekeeper knew that she had guessed correctly. With a badly concealed yawn, the young lady thanked her and followed her back along the path.
“Thank you.” she said, “I would prefer they stay undisturbed. It has been too long since they saw one another. They must have much to talk about.”
Mrs. Reynolds gave her an odd look but made no reply.