Chapter Seven #2
The girls agreed to this plan and made their way down the hall, Mrs. Gardiner, with Amelia in her arms, in their wake.
She went into Mary’s chambers first, settling her shy niece in and offering all the little reassurances she needed to be secure in her welcome, including the confirmation that a new music master, Mr. Taylor, had been engaged for their lessons, which would commence in three days’ time.
She introduced her to Abigail, a new upstairs maid who would serve as she and Elizabeth’s lady’s maid for their visit, and the three of them made quick work of unpacking Mary’s trunks.
Once this task was accomplished, Mary asked to be excused to visit Mr. Barlow, who had requested she play for him as soon as she was settled.
Mrs. Gardiner’s time with Elizabeth was spent less practically, though she was also introduced to Abigail and her trunks were unpacked. Once that was done and the two were left alone, they held one another for several minutes before they discussed that which weighed on them most.
“It is too heavy, Aunt. I wanted so much to be here with you. I was almost desperate to be near you all again, but now that I am here, I don’t know how I bear it. Just the sight of Pemberley’s drive was overwhelming.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I am so sorry. I share your sorrow, and though it might be selfish, I am so glad you are here. When you have settled and some of these feelings are not quite so fresh, I know we will all be able to find consolation and help with one another. I think it is important for us to share not only the burden of sadness but also our memories, to think of all that we loved about Mr. Darcy.”
“You are right,” Elizabeth agreed, sitting up a little and wiping her eyes and nose with the handkerchief her aunt provided.
“It is only I did not realise how much it would hurt to be here. When I was at Longbourn, I think a part of me imagined he was still here, doing all the things he loved and those he hated—like the letters of business that kept him from more active pursuits. But now I know we will go to church and his pew will be empty, we will walk through Lambton with no hope of spotting the Darcy carriage, and that is to say nothing of all the things we won’t do this summer because .
. .” Here, she choked on her words before taking a deep breath and collapsing once again into her aunt’s arms.
“Because he is gone and they are not here,” Mrs. Gardiner finished for her. “Yes, you are right—all of it will be hard. But I am here for you, and I will not ask you to move any faster through your grief than you are able.”
“Thank you,” was the muffled response—Lizzy’s face stayed buried in her aunt’s embrace until she cried herself to sleep.
That summer visit looked quite different from those that came before which had all been quite different from one another.
There were still music lessons—Elizabeth practiced almost as much as Mary, and the girls gave an informal concert for their family and a few neighbours at the end of the summer.
Elizabeth continued to lavish love and attention on her cousin, who began to crawl about and get into as much trouble as she could find.
The family had dinners with neighbours and hosted Kympton’s new vicar, Mr. Ashley, several times.
He was an amiable and educated young man whose conversation and good nature were a welcome addition to their family party at least once a week.
Elizabeth visited Barlow Hall’s stables, bringing treats to its residents—both human and equine.
But the distinctions and differences between this summer and all the others were greater than any similarities.
The atmosphere not only at Barlow Hall but also Lambton and Kympton, where they attended church each Sunday, was sombre and at times seemed to foist the weight of grief onto Lizzy’s shoulders with memories, acknowledgements and shared reminiscings.
Her birthday celebration was a quiet family dinner.
And, of course there was no Pemberley. No afternoon teas or outings to the pond or lake to watch Georgiana and Mary sketch or paint.
No strolls through the garden. No perusing the library to choose another novel or more erudite text to discuss with either of the Darcy gentlemen.
No visits to Pemberley’s stables, no rides across the fields or along the rocky roads, only reachable on horseback.
Until one day in mid-July, these missing pieces stayed missing. That morning, Mrs. Gardiner received a message from Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper at Pemberley.
“Lizzy,” she said after placing the note back on the tray, “it seems your horse has arrived at Pemberley’s stables, and the staff wished you to know and invite you to go and visit him at your convenience.”
At this news, Elizabeth felt a mix of excitement, sorrow, gratitude and uncertainty.
Each feeling was powerful, and they did not seem to belong together at all.
It was disorienting. After a few moments, she said, “It does not seem right to be there, to do something so . . . without him, without any of them.”
“I understand,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, gently placing her hand over Elizabeth’s. “And I will not press you if you feel you should not go, but will you hear my thoughts on the matter?”
“Of course.”
“The Darcys were so thrilled to give you that horse. They planned it from the moment the Earl wrote of their mare’s being in foal.
I am honestly surprised they were able to keep the secret for so long.
It brought them all joy to know it would bring you joy.
In your grief, I do not want you to avoid those joyful things. He wouldn’t want that.”
“You are right, of course,” Elizabeth said. Her concern and deep confusion did not disappear at her aunt’s words, but in them she found a measure of wisdom and comfort. “Very well, if you have no objection, I will go presently.”
“I did not mean you should go now, or alone.”
“I realise that, Aunt. However, I feel as though if I do not proceed posthaste, I may change my mind—being buffeted back to another place entirely in how I think of the gift, of Pemberley, of all of it.”
“And you do not want Mary or me to accompany you?”
“If you are not offended and will permit me, I would prefer to do this by myself.”
Mrs. Gardiner consented with some degree of reluctance.
Elizabeth changed her gown and found her bonnet, setting off within a quarter of an hour.
The familiar walkway which wound behind Barlow Hall took her to the west entrance to Pemberley Wood.
The narrow dirt path was well-worn. For five summers now, it was the primary way both she and Georgiana, and whichever Bennet sister was with her, used for visits and even the occasional meeting at the centre point between the homes which Elizabeth and Georgiana had determined several years ago.
This spot, as well as every other well-known sight and sound, made an impression in the back of Elizabeth’s mind.
However, she had little space in either thought or feeling for anything other than what lay before her.
When she crested the hill and Pemberley came into view, Elizabeth steeled herself.
But though she felt sorrow, her foremost emotion was joy.
She had missed this house and all that it and the Darcys meant to her.
It was still here. He was gone, but still it held the possibility of joy and love and affection.
Soon she found herself in front of the stable.
With a deep breath, she walked through the wide-open doors, which ushered her into the open pen with the stalls visible beyond.
Now her curiosity about the horse pushed through all else in her mind and heart.
“Miss Lizzy!” Branson’s voice boomed as he came into view from the nearest stall. As she looked around, Elizabeth noted it was the only occupied stall of the ten visible.
“I am right glad ye came.”
And in that moment, as Branson smiled at her, hat in hand, and the Darcys’ gift, an actual horse meant to be hers, stood mere feet away, shaking his head and stomping his hooves, she found she was happy as well.
“I think this one is glad too,” Branson said, lifting his arm to indicate she should move towards the stall.
She did so, almost as if in a trance. Her eyes connected with the animal’s, and Elizabeth fell in love.
The same and different nature of the summer continued for Elizabeth, most especially in her time with Neptune.
She had named him almost immediately upon making his acquaintance and remained in a state of near disbelief that he was hers and that being with him filled her heart in ways she had not known it needed.
For the remainder of the summer, Elizabeth could be found at the Pemberley stables several times a week.
She did not ride him; this felt like a step too far without them.
She brought different treats until she discovered he liked apples and carrots best. Even though the only ones available were the not-yet-ripe ones she collected from the ground of Barlow Hall’s orchard, Neptune would snatch them from her open hand and consume them with only a few bites.
Though he liked the apples she brought, he loved carrots.
Consequently, Elizabeth raided the root cellar before most of her visits.
Mary joined her twice and the Gardiners once each.