Chapter Four #8
“Well, not Henry,” Elizabeth told them, feeling a swell of pride and affection even after all these years.
“I would see him once a month or so, even though I tried to find him more frequently. And then in early spring, he came running when I called, perhaps persuaded by the meat pie I had brought. After enjoying the treat, he seemed to want me to follow him, as instead of running off, he walked slowly and kept looking back at me.”
“Where on earth was he taking you?” Georgiana asked.
“To meet the family,” Elizabeth said. “We reached a small grassy knoll and Henry slipped inside. When I got close enough, I saw Henry—or should I say Henrietta—had placed herself in the middle of a brood of fox cubs. There were five of them!”
“Did you see her again after that visit?” Mr. Barlow asked.
“Once or twice over the next few years, but not since I was eight or nine.”
“You have gifted us with a lovely tale, Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy said. “Now, shall we engage in some more active entertainment? I believe the staff have set up nine pins and bocce.”
The group began to rise, and the footman and maid came forwards to begin clearing the plates and food. As they moved towards the area where the games awaited, her Mr. Darcy fell into step beside Elizabeth.
“You must have been quite smart as a young girl to get a fox to trust you and to take care of it on your own for so long.”
“Not really . . . I think when I want something, I don’t always see the obstacles. That is likely more to do with my stubbornness than my intelligence.”
“Although I see the wisdom in that self-assessment, I choose to see it as a testament to your intelligence as well.”
Elizabeth’s thank you was embarrassingly breathy, but as they had arrived at the field of play, he seemed not to notice.
Their play was halted only by the coming darkness several hours after they had begun. Lanterns were lit and placed on the front of the carriages. As exhaustion overtook Elizabeth, she almost missed the opportunity to ride with her Mr. Darcy.
“I would be obliged, young Darcy, if you would consent to drive the ladies this time,” Mr. Barlow said. “I am not too proud to admit my eyes are not what they once were, and I should be quite blind navigating the twists and turns back to Pemberley in this light.”
“Perhaps Lizzy and Miss Darcy should come in the carriage as they both look dead on their feet,” Mrs. Gardiner suggested.
Mr. Gardiner seemed poised to agree when Lizzy spoke up. “If you do not object, I should like to ride in the phaeton. It would be lovely to see the woods and paths in the moonlight.”
Darcy nodded his acquiescence and Mrs. Gardiner her agreement.
The parties separated to their respective conveyances.
Before Elizabeth could worry over where she would sit and decide whether she preferred the potential terror and exhilaration of being beside her Mr. Darcy for a full half hour, her friend took the decision mostly out of her hands.
“Lizzy, if you do not mind, might I sit on the outside?” Georgiana asked with a smile. “I am afraid I might feel nauseous sitting in the middle in the dark.”
“I do not mind,” Elizabeth answered quickly and quite truthfully.
Having only been in a carriage together a few times, Elizabeth could not be certain of her friend’s tendencies.
However, the only observation she would have made was that Georgiana was likely to fall asleep, even on short rides, regardless of the seat. Elizabeth had never seen her get sick.
Her mind was occupied enough by this slight quandary to avoid the near existential crisis of earlier when her Mr. Darcy had offered his hand to help her up and onto her seat.
Thus, it was with little anxiety that Elizabeth found herself seated in between the Darcy siblings, embarking on a moonlit carriage ride.
The ride to the picnic had been filled with talk of what was to come and of the beautiful sights that they passed.
The ride back consisted, initially at least, of remembering the past few hours and discussing all of the wonderful things that had happened.
After ten minutes, Georgiana’s excitement seemed to wane, and a minute later, Elizabeth felt the plop of her friend’s head on her shoulder.
Darcy’s low chuckle sounded close to her ear.
“She can never withstand a lolling carriage after dark,” he said.
“Even in daylight hours, I have observed her doze off or nearly so,” Elizabeth agreed. She shifted slightly so that Georgiana’s head was more secure. “I was surprised when she mentioned the possibility of being made ill, having not thought that was a problem for her.”
“It is not,” Darcy answered.
“Then I wonder why she said it was,” Elizabeth responded, beginning to feel the weight of her own fatigue.
“Do you not know?” he asked, and though it may have been her mind being too tired to make sense of things, it seemed like his question contained a hint of accusation. Though she intended to ask about this, the next thing she knew, she was being gently shaken by Georgiana.
“Lizzy, wake up. We are home.”
Lifting her head, Elizabeth was mortified to discover she had been sleeping on Darcy’s shoulder. Georgiana was urging her to wake, and her aunt and uncle stood beside the gig, smiling up at her. Would they admonish her for her very unladylike behavior?
“You are just as bad as I am in a carriage at night,” Georgiana teased as her father helped the girls down.
“It is good to see you ladies were able to get some rest, as I have no doubt you will be up half the night,” Mr. Darcy said.
As part of both of their birthday surprise, Elizabeth was to spend the night at Pemberley. Both girls were nearly as excited for that as they had been for the picnic.
“We will certainly not stay up half the night, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth assured him. “I believe we fully intend to remain awake until we see the sunrise.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you must not try the patience of Pemberley’s staff,” Mrs. Gardiner admonished her niece with a fond smile.
“Or its family,” her Mr. Darcy added with mock seriousness.
Elizabeth bade her family good night before taking Georgiana’s arm. They walked inside, chatting excitedly about all their plans, both suddenly wide awake. The gentlemen followed. Mrs. Reynolds greeted them and informed them chocolate and fruit awaited them in Miss Darcy’s sitting room.
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds,” the girls responded together.
The Mr. Darcys said their good nights, the elder extracting a promise that they would not disturb Miss Baxter, who had stayed behind due to a severe headache.
“Of course, Father. We will check on her in the morning. I do hope she was able to rest and will be recovered by tomorrow. I asked Higgins to place some of her favourites together when they gathered up the leftover food,” Georgiana said, referring to the footman who had attended them.
“That was very kind of you,” he responded. After a kiss on the forehead for his daughter, Mr. Darcy turned to Lizzy. “I hope the festivities met your expectations?”
“They did,” she assured him. “And you are acquainted enough with my personality to know how unreasonably high I tend to set my hopes, so I trust you know how very special you made this day for me. I am truly grateful.”
She moved to hug him, and he welcomed her into an embrace. Georgiana soon joined them.
“You are the best father,” Georgiana said, her words muffled as she pressed into his side.
“What about me?” young Darcy pouted. “I put a great deal of effort into the planning as well.”
“Of course you are the best, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana assured him, moving from their father’s arms to his.
As much as Elizabeth wanted to offer her own embrace to the younger Mr. Darcy, she instead teased, “It is true Georgiana has told me on more than one occasion that after Mr. Darcy and your cousin, Major Fitzwilliam, you are her favourite relative.”
“Stephen has pride of place in your heart over me, little one? I am truly wounded.”
After Georgiana finished assuring her brother of his primacy in her affections—she could not stand for him to think otherwise, even as part of a jest—the girls skipped arm in arm up the stairs.
Sometime later, Georgiana had made good on their promise and was snoring lightly next to Elizabeth, who found sleep more elusive.
The setting certainly could not be blamed.
Georgiana’s bed was wide, with a soft mattress.
The maids had supplied them with several extra blankets and pillows with which the girls built a fort-like structure in the centre of the bed, where they talked and laughed for at least an hour before Georgiana succumbed.
Lizzy lay there for a while, thinking she would be able to drift off eventually.
It was not to be. At home in the room she shared with Jane, Lizzy always kept a book and candle by their bed.
Reading was the one way she knew she could put herself to sleep.
After a brief internal debate, Elizabeth decided to seek out a book.
She knew the family library was only three doors down.
Although it boasted only a fraction of the books housed in the main library, it still had more than enough options for her needs.
Indeed, she remembered Mr. Darcy placing a copy of Gulliver’s Travels on the table there earlier in the week.
If she were lucky, it would be there still.
Reading books she was familiar with was the best strategy for Lizzy when sleep was what she really wanted.