Chapter 15 #2
We walked around the top of the rampart, coming to where the drawbridge would have been, but most of the walls were in ruins.
It was designed as a hexagonal bastion fort, now with only two round and two square towers remaining.
They were in such a ruinous state that we contented ourselves with rambling about the remains of the walls.
At several points, we had excellent views over the town and river, together with the fertile open valley surrounding it.
We had taken, by mischance, the most difficult route to the castle.
Our descent was towards the Stramongate Bridge, which proved an easy path.
“Miss Darcy and I must leave you to marvel at the Holy Trinity Church yourselves,” I declared, taking Georgiana’s arm. “We have promised ourselves a trip to the milliner’s, to purchase a new bonnet to replace the one Georgiana lost, and some ribbons to match her dress.”
“Will you permit me, Miss Elizabeth, to accompany you? I have a great interest in milliners’ shops.” Darcy stepped forward and offered his arm to both Georgiana and me.
I batted his arm. “Perhaps, sir, you should assist with your sister’s selection, and I could then accompany Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Darcy to the church. My guidebook says it has a very fine interior.”
Darcy smirked. “Come, Georgiana, Miss Elizabeth has made me her proxy. I know a bonnet is made of woven straw—surely there is little else to distinguish between them?”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, you are hopeless. Elizabeth, please do not tease him.”
“Darcy is not to be laughed at?” I cried, taking his arm. “It gives him an uncommon advantage over me. For I will allow that I am always prone to follies and nonsense, which people should laugh at, if only to divert themselves from their other cares and concerns.”
“Is it a vanity, I wonder,” said Darcy, as we turned down the street, “to allow oneself to be the butt of others’ humour? I, myself, would prefer to avoid those weaknesses which expose one to ridicule.”
“Yet, I dearly love to laugh. And if, in doing so, I expose myself, then I must endure it. For if I see whims and inconsistencies in others, then I can hardly protest if they perceive the same in me.”
“You are too good, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy. “I cannot admit to a similar generosity of spirit, though I cannot but admire yours.” We walked on in silence. Glancing back, I saw Mama and Mr. Darcy—both engaged in animated conversation—walk towards the church.
Certainly, Darcy was the best of brothers. Rather than idling his time outside the shop, he entered with us and proved to know more about bonnets than any man reasonably should.
‘Lizzy,’ whispered Kitty, ‘he can tell the difference between a Poke, a Cottage, and a Capote bonnet. Oh, to have such a brother!’
‘And look, a Leghorn bonnet.’ Lydia pulled me towards a bonnet woven from fine Italian wheat straw, its pale golden texture silky under my touch.
Georgiana came over, gazing longingly at it.
“Oh no, Fitzwilliam. While I do love it, it’s too fine to have me lose on our next boat trip, or blown away taking the view from some rocky crag.
Perhaps a cottage bonnet would suit, for the rim is not too wide, and I would prefer one which doesn’t catch the wind. ”
We agreed on a bonnet—two, for Darcy jokingly said that Georgiana must have a spare—otherwise, we would spend all our time in Kendal, which, though a delightful town, held interest sufficient for only one visit, let alone the few weeks that remained of their time touring the Lakes.
A few weeks? Mama and I had intended a full month in Cumbria.
Certainly, to spend most of that in the company of Miss Darcy, Mr. George Darcy, and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy would be a pleasure I had not anticipated.
We had been in company only two full days; yet, they were among the most agreeable of my life.
* * *
Mama returned with Mr. Darcy shortly after we had returned to the George and Dragon. I had never seen her so excited.
“Lizzy, you should see the Holy Trinity Church—it is quite wonderful,” she exclaimed, taking my arm.
“There are five aisles; five, no less! The scale of the interior left me breathless—just as I was after Mr. Bennet asked to court me. And the history—I daresay I could not have had a better guide. Why, Mr. Darcy told me that Queen Katherine Parr worshipped there; and a Royalist knight—Robin the Devil, he was called—rode his horse into the church. Can you believe it? His sword and helmet are on display.”
I am sure she would have dragged me down the street, were it not for the landau arriving just at that moment.
We ladies excused ourselves in order to use the inn’s retiring room before the journey back to Lake Windermere.
When we returned, Darcy was handing a young lady into a post-chaise, an ostler holding the traces, the postilion already mounted on the nearside horse.