Chapter 6 #4
“This is . . . thank you, of course it is the most generous gift. I am . . .” Elizabeth rose, and when Mr. Darcy did the same, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you. I am so grateful.”
Mr. Darcy returned her embrace, laughing a little at her enthusiasm, though it was to be expected.
Next, she turned to Georgiana, whom she practically hauled out of her seat.
The girls hugged and laughed. “Thank you as well, Master Fitzwilliam,” she said over Georgiana’s shoulder.
He nodded his acceptance as his eyes danced with merriment.
“I assure you,” Mr. Darcy said, “we are nearly as excited as you to have Junior in our stables and for you to have your own mount when the three of you go off on your adventures.”
The remainder of the visit was spent in congenial conversation with Junior featuring prominently as a topic of interest. Dinner was as delicious and plentiful as it always was at Pemberley.
Long after darkness, the guests took their leave.
Elizabeth, Mrs. Gardiner and Georgiana confirmed their plans to spend the day at Barlow Hall two days hence to finish the blankets and hats they had been working on to put in the gift baskets for the tenants and staff at each estate.
Mrs. Gardiner insisted Elizabeth descend the stairs after her so that she, Mr. Barlow and Mr. Gardiner could behold her in all her “grown-up splendour.” Elizabeth was thankful for the vote of confidence.
As she looked in the mirror, Anna, beaming behind her, was less certain than her aunt had seemed when she swept from the room moments earlier that she was a sight anyone would be particularly interested in beholding.
“Have a lovely evening,” Cora, Amelia’s nurse, said as she and her charge followed Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth thanked her and offered her cousin one last kiss.
Elizabeth turned to the large mirror to take one last look.
The gown, it must be said, was exquisite.
Anna and Rachel, a downstairs maid with a talent for embroidery and sewing, had added several new details, including some beading on the sleeves and shoulder and altered it to fit her perfectly.
Her hair was equally lovely. Though she had, on several occasions, practiced with her sisters and their shared lady’s maid for the more intricate coiffures, they had never achieved anything like the style she now wore.
Her voluminous dark curls were piled atop her head, several cascading down from within the arrangement to touch her neck.
It looked somehow natural and exact. A green ribbon, the material taken from the hem of her dress, which had to be shortened to fit, was woven through the curls.
All in all, Elizabeth was pleased; she looked pretty, but she was again struck by how young she still looked despite these efforts.
Normally, she appreciated that she looked younger than her fifteen years.
It kept gentlemen at home from thinking about anything beyond a dance and prevented her mother, most of the time, from urging her to be more forward as she did with poor Jane, who, for better or worse, had matured much more quickly and looked all of her seventeen years.
But tonight, Elizabeth wanted one gentleman in particular to see she was, or was becoming, a grown woman.
At least old enough that he would wait, perhaps?
It was silly, she knew. There were more obstacles between her and Fitzwilliam Darcy than the six-year-and-seven-month age difference.
She determined to think of it no more and simply enjoy the unique enjoyment the evening promised.
“Are you ready, Miss?” Anna’s question pulled her from her thoughts. “You look lovely, I hope you know.”
Elizabeth imagined her uncertainty was written all over her face.
“Thank you, Anna. I think most of the loveliness is due to your hard work and skill.” With that, Elizabeth turned and picked her gloves up from the dresser.
“You look marvellous, my dear,” her uncle said as Elizabeth reached them at the bottom of the staircase.
Mr. Barlow added, “Edward and I will be arriving with the two most beautiful ladies in the county.” Elizabeth smiled and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you both for the kind words. And thank you, Aunt, for the dress and allowing Anna to spend so much time on my hair.”
“You are most welcome, Lizzy. I did not suffer for it. My hair is easy enough. It does not have a mind of its own, as yours seems to.”
“You look wonderful. Head to toe,” Elizabeth told her, only a little jealous at how quickly her aunt could transform her locks into the elegant chignon she now wore.
It was true that hers took a great deal more convincing, and most often that meant she did not bother with anything intricate but settled for a braid or a simple knot—even for the few dances she had attended since her come-out.
The party took their cloaks and coats from Mrs. Gladden and Mr. Sims and made their way to the carriage for the short ride to Pemberley.
Mrs. Gardiner sat beside Elizabeth in the forward-facing seat, their arms linked as Elizabeth allowed her excitement to bubble over in exclamations of delight and questions about what to expect.
A few minutes later, they reached the driveway, which was lit every hundred yards or so with torches on either side.
It lent a festive quality to the event before they had even arrived, as did the number of other conveyances in front of and behind their own, whose lanterns lent additional glimmer to the pathway.
The Gardiners’ carriage joined the short line of conveyances approaching Pemberley’s front entrance.
When they reached the front and their footman opened the door, Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Barlow descended, and then the latter stood ready to assist the ladies down.
The familiar sight of Pemberley’s grand entrance was transformed with ropes of garland, boughs of holly and sprigs of mistletoe.
Just inside, the stairs leading to the main floor were adorned with candles in glass jars surrounded by sprigs of holly, ivy and rosemary on both sides of each of the ten stairs leading up to the public hall and beyond that, the ballroom.
There the family stood, greeting their guests.
As they joined the line waiting to offer their greetings, Elizabeth looked about, taking in the decorations and the many faces, familiar and otherwise.
Even from this distance, they remained on the top stair, about ten guests away from Mr. Darcy at the start of the family line, and she could smell the cinnamon apple cider that she had come to associate with Pemberley.
“Mr. Barlow, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth: welcome to Pemberley’s Twelfth Night gathering,” Mr. Darcy boomed.
“Miss Elizabeth, we are so glad you are with us this year. Your presence will make the night complete. And ladies, might I say you are lovely. Miss Elizabeth, I am struck by how grown-up you look. Though I like to think you will always be the little girl I first met, I must admit now you are in truth a fine young lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” both Elizabeth and her aunt responded.
“Now, son, it is your turn to compliment the ladies,” Mr. Darcy teased. “You must bear with us; I am trying to teach Master Fitzwilliam how to be charming like his father.”
“Now that my father has made you think any words I might utter are part of a lesson and not sincere praise, I hope you will believe me when I say you both look very well this evening.” He took each of their hands in turn.
Before releasing Elizabeth’s, he added, “That colour suits you, Miss Elizabeth.”
The ladies offered their thanks, with Mrs. Gardiner assuring him he was, as always, just as charming as his father. Elizabeth was grateful for her aunt’s words, which offered kindness and gave her a moment to collect herself.
Before they spoke, she had not allowed herself to look beyond Mr. Darcy to his son, sure the sight of him in his finery under the candlelight would be too much for her.
And so his compliment, said in his customary formal, gentle tone, along with her first glimpse of him, were nearly overwhelming.
As he exchanged pleasantries with her family, she took the opportunity to take him in.
He wore a black coat trimmed with dark green, his bright white cravat provided a sharp contrast, and an emerald pin winked out from its folds.
The candlelight bounced off his sable curls and shone in the reflection of his eyes.
Suddenly, the night seemed to promise something special.
“Lizzy, you look simply magnificent,” Georgiana gushed as she reached towards her friend, practically elbowing her brother out of the way.
The girls took turns praising one another’s gowns, hair and accessories.
“You know you need not retire with me after the first dance. I know you said you mean to, but I will not be at all put out if you decide to enjoy yourself amongst the others for the remainder of the evening if you choose to.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, assuring her friend that she would keep to their plan, her uncle interrupted.
“While I am loath to disturb this tête-à-tête, I feel we must move into the room as we are holding up the line.”
There were several couples waiting behind the Gardiners to greet their hosts and enter the ballroom.
Elizabeth briefly registered a few familiar faces: the proprietors of the Rose and Crown, whose names she could not recall, and Mr. and Mrs. Sheffly and their son, Winston.
Their estate bordered Barlow Hall on the west, and the Gardiners hosted them on occasion during her summer visits.
“I will join you as soon as Father releases me,” Georgiana whispered to Elizabeth as she and her family moved away.