Chapter 20 Morning Dismissal
CHAPTER TWENTY
MORNING DISMISSAL
Elizabeth had never had her own lady’s maid.
Back at Longbourn, the five sisters shared one maid who laid out their dresses, but more often than not, the sisters helped each other with hair and buttons.
So it was with great pleasure that she received Cassie’s steaming jug of hot water and cheerful chatter.
“Good morning, miss!” Cassie greeted her. “Beautiful day, though there’s a bite to the air. Autumn’s settling in properly now. Did you sleep well?”
“I did indeed.” Elizabeth had never slept on such a comfortable bed before, nor had she worn such a fine nightgown.
Cassie gave her a steaming cup of morning chocolate while setting out a pale green morning dress with a pattern of tiny leaves embroidered around the hem. “I hope this gown meets your approval.”
“I’m sure it will be lovely,” Elizabeth replied, allowing herself to be helped into the borrowed gown.
The muslin fit as though made for her, and the quality of the fabric and workmanship far exceeded anything in her own modest wardrobe.
Standing before the glass, Elizabeth could almost imagine herself as the mistress of Pemberley—if such a fantasy were not so complicated by the presence of its current master.
“Miss Georgiana sent word that she’ll await you for breakfast whenever you’re ready.” Cassie’s nimble fingers made quick work of the fastenings. “No rush at all, she said. Mr. Darcy’s already been out riding since dawn and returned, but Miss Georgiana won’t eat without you.”
“Mr. Darcy is an early riser, then?”
“Always has been, miss.” Cassie picked up a brush and pins for Elizabeth’s hair. “The letters you wrote last night have been dispatched by special messenger, just as you requested.”
Elizabeth counted her blessings. Her communications to Longbourn were on their way, including the crucial request for the locket.
“Thank you, Cassie. And thank you for arranging my hair so skillfully.” She examined her reflection in the mirror, pleased with the maid’s handiwork. The simple style suited her features while taming her unruly curls into something resembling propriety.
“It’s an honor, miss. Never thought I’d be lady’s maid to… well…” Cassie blushed. “Mrs. Reynolds says we’re not to gossip about your situation.”
“Very proper of Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth agreed, hiding her amusement. “Though I imagine the entire household must be buzzing.”
Cassie’s heightened color confirmed this assessment. “We’re all just happy to see Miss Georgiana with a smile. Been too quiet around here since… well, for some time.”
Elizabeth recalled Georgiana’s mention of some recent distress, though the details remained vague. She imagined the isolation of a young lady in such a vast estate would be unbearable, especially to one like herself who had grown up with four sisters.
The breakfast room proved to be a charming apartment facing east to catch the morning sun.
Unlike the formal dining room Elizabeth had glimpsed during yesterday’s tour, this space felt more intimate, more lived-in.
Georgiana sat at a round table laden with covered dishes, a book open beside her plate.
“Elizabeth!” She closed the book immediately. “I hope you slept well? I instructed the servants not to disturb you, as you seemed so exhausted yesterday.”
“I slept remarkably well, thank you.” Elizabeth took the indicated seat, warmed by the girl’s thoughtfulness. “The chamber is most comfortable.”
“Fitzwilliam insisted on the Rose Chamber specifically,” Georgiana confided, pouring tea for Elizabeth. “He said it had the best morning light for reading or writing letters. He believes you would be quite comfortable with the arrangement.”
“I am, and thank him for his kindness,” Elizabeth said as Darcy entered. He wore a dark riding coat, his hair still slightly disordered from his early morning exercise. He stopped short upon seeing Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, giving a formal bow. “I trust you found your accommodations satisfactory?”
The stiff courtesy felt jarring after yesterday’s unexpected gentleness, reinforcing Elizabeth’s sense that she would never fully understand this contradictory man.
“More than satisfactory,” she replied with a curtsy. “I wished to thank you particularly for providing Cassie as lady’s maid,” Elizabeth said, feeling oddly compelled to bridge the awkward silence. “She has been most attentive.”
“It was no trouble,” Darcy replied without turning. “Mrs. Reynolds selected her specifically. She has a certain… enthusiasm that seemed well-suited to someone unaccustomed to such service.”
He joined them at the table, focused on his plate as if the arrangement of eggs and ham required careful study. Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Georgiana, who gave a small shrug of incomprehension at her brother’s mood.
“The Bingleys remain abed?” Elizabeth inquired, more to fill the silence than from genuine interest.
“Miss Bingley keeps town hours even in the country,” Georgiana explained. “We likely won’t see them before noon.”
“A blessed reprieve,” Darcy muttered, then looked almost startled to have spoken the thought aloud.
Elizabeth couldn’t suppress a laugh. “On that point at least, Mr. Darcy, we find ourselves in perfect agreement.”
Elizabeth studied him surreptitiously, noting the rigid set of his shoulders and his overly methodical approach to buttering his toast. The man was wound tighter than her mother’s best corset strings.
Perhaps his discomfort was more mundane than she had imagined—a thought that suddenly struck her as absurdly funny.
Could the proud master of Pemberley be suffering from something as common as digestive distress?
The image of such a dignified gentleman brought low by constipation sent an inappropriate giggle bubbling up in her throat.
She caught Georgiana’s questioning glance and bit her lip, which only made the urge to laugh stronger. Georgiana’s eyes widened in comprehension, and suddenly she, too, was fighting back giggles behind her napkin.
Darcy looked up, his brow furrowed. “You seem in particularly cheerful spirits this morning, Miss Bennet.”
“I am merely making the best of an awkward situation, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, composing herself with an effort. “And appreciating your hospitality, however… reluctantly offered it might be.”
Darcy’s brows rose slightly, the closest he would come to acknowledging her pointed remark.
“I assure you, Miss Bennet, my hospitality is never reluctant when the recipient is deserving of it.” He cleared his throat, spearing a piece of egg with mathematical precision.
“What do you ladies plan to do with your morning? The weather seems favorable for outdoor pursuits.”
“Indeed, the grounds of Pemberley must be quite picturesque,” Elizabeth said. “You were out riding early this morning, I understand? I hope you found the exercise refreshing.”
“Adequately so,” Darcy replied, his attention fixed on cutting his ham into exact squares.
“Perhaps you could point out a few significant landmarks,” she persisted. “At Longbourn, I often rise early for walks to view the morning beauty.”
“Pemberley’s grounds are extensive,” he said stiffly. “Georgiana can direct you to the paths most suitable for a lady’s constitutional.”
Elizabeth felt her patience waning. “Mr. Darcy, I cannot help but wonder if you remain displeased by my words yesterday in the drawing room. If so, I wish to express my sincere regret for speaking so impulsively in your home.”
Darcy’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. Again, he avoided her gaze.
“The situation is unusual for all involved, Miss Bennet,” he replied, his tone measured and distant. “Heightened emotion is to be expected under such circumstances.”
“Nevertheless—”
“Your apology is unnecessary,” he interrupted, setting down his fork with a finality that suggested the topic was closed. “I have matters requiring my attention in Lambton this morning. Georgiana will ensure you have everything you require.”
He rose from the table with the sudden abruptness that seemed characteristic of his departures, offering a perfunctory bow. “Ladies, pray excuse me.”
As the door closed behind him, Elizabeth exhaled her frustration. “Your brother has elevated abrupt exits to an art form, Georgiana. I begin to think I inspire them specifically.”
Georgiana smiled apologetically. “You must not mind him. He hates to be thanked or apologized to. Says it puts him at a disadvantage.”
“A peculiar philosophy,” Elizabeth observed, taking a sip of tea to mask her feeling of rebuff.
“I believe he feels more comfortable giving than receiving,” Georgiana mused. “It’s easier for him to be the benefactor than the beneficiary. Less… vulnerable, perhaps.”
“Your brother remains an enigma to me,” Elizabeth admitted. “Yesterday in the gallery, he showed such unexpected kindness. Today, he can hardly bear to look at me.”
“He is conflicted. If you are who we believe you to be, it changes everything for him. For all of us. My brother is responsible for the entire estate and everyone’s well-being.”
“He’s worried that I would turn him away.” Elizabeth’s teacup stopped on the way to her lips. “Didn’t you convey to him my promise? That I’d share the estate with you two?”
“He says those speculations were premature,” Georgiana said, looking suddenly serious.
“Besides, my brother is deeply worried about these murders from twenty years ago. Fitzwilliam takes responsibility very seriously—he won’t rest until he sees justice done, even if it happened when he was just a boy. ”
Elizabeth considered this insight, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Well then, we’d better find the answer before him, hadn’t we? I daresay two intelligent women might uncover what one gentleman missed.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened before a mischievous grin lit her features. “Fitzwilliam would have an apoplexy if he knew we were sleuthing instead of enjoying the vistas.”