Chapter 14
MORE THAN STONES it was inevitable that it would take longer to atone for the insults, personal and unfeeling, that he thoughtlessly directed at her in Kent.
And now he must correct another slight, layered atop all the others last night through no fault of his own for once. With a gesture, he asked her to walk with him and led her away from the front door and onto the path that ran parallel to the front of the house towards the east wing.
“It has come to my attention that you were spoken to somewhat brusquely last night by my butler.” Relief and confusion warred with each other on Elizabeth’s countenance, giving her a charming appearance of innocence. “In the library.”
Embarrassment instantly eclipsed all her other sentiments. “I beg you would forgive me, sir. Some of the other ladies wished to explore the house, and—”
“There is absolutely nothing for you to apologise for,” he interrupted. “I know what happened. Bingley overheard his sisters discussing the matter after you left. It seems Miss Bingley…took steps not to be discovered.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I suspected as much, though I could not conceive of a reason why she should.”
“Because she knew neither of you were supposed to be in there. Which brings me to the reason I wished to speak to you.” They had turned the corner of the building, and he directed her off the path and out onto the lawn.
Partly to avoid the gaggle of labourers standing with a glum-faced Ferguson beneath a library window.
Partly because the stark black scar in the wall could be better seen from farther away.
He knew the moment Elizabeth saw it, for she let out a soft gasp.
“That crack appeared last month,” he explained. “It is what brought me home early. My steward and I met with an architect on Monday to discuss it.”
“Can it be repaired?”
“It is too early to tell. Work is due to begin on Monday to try and determine the cause. For now, I have ordered this entire wing of the house closed off.”
Comprehension dawned on Elizabeth’s face, vindicating Darcy’s decision to bring her here, for she evidently had been distressed by her unceremonious eviction.
“I wished for you to see for yourself, so you would understand the urgency with which Matthis ejected you from the library. It is not safe—or rather, it is potentially unsafe. But I would have you know, you must know, you are welcome in every part of Pemberley. Especially the library.”
“Thank you,” she said after a long pause.
He knew not whether it was embarrassment or some other emotion over which she stumbled; it was gone before he could place it.
“I did not see much of it in the dark,” she said more brightly, “but what I could make out was very impressive indeed. You told me once it was the work of generations, but I still had not imagined anything quite so extraordinary.”
“I hope to show you in daylight as soon as the site is secured. Though I have no idea when that will be.” Quite a while if Ferguson’s present fretting was any indication.
“What will the work involve?”
“Inside, they must assess the state of all the roof and floor timbers and remove some of the plaster from the walls to establish the integrity of the window lintels. Out here, trenches will be dug to expose the foundations and establish whether they are compromised. I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, would you excuse me for just a moment. I must have a quick word with my steward.”
He hated to abandon her, but Ferguson had progressed from shaking his head to glancing his way every few seconds with an expression that made it clear he wished to interrupt. Elizabeth assured him she did not mind, and Darcy strode to the foot of the wall. “What is it?”
“Another crack, sir,” Ferguson replied without preamble, and set off immediately towards the rear of the house.
Darcy followed, not a little alarmed that a second fault should have appeared so far from the first. He was obliged to peer closely to see what was causing Ferguson such consternation, but when his eyes found it, his stomach sank.
Unlike the first crack, which had arced up the wall with such devastating force that a dozen or more of the heavy stone blocks of which Pemberley was built had been cleaved in two, this one zig-zagged more innocuously between the stones.
There were places where mortar was crumbling out of the wall, however, preventing anyone from mistaking it for superficial.
“It might not be new. It could very well have been here for as long as the other one,” Ferguson went on. “’Tis difficult to see, what with ashlar mortar joints being so thin.”
That did not account for all the head shaking. “But?”
“The other crack will have begun in the same way. I shall write to Jacobs for his opinion, but I should think it will need shoring.”
Darcy nodded sombrely and hoped he did not look as bilious as he felt. He left Ferguson to make the necessary arrangements and returned to Elizabeth. “My apologies for the interruption. Allow me to take you to my sister.”
Elizabeth did not begin walking. “Did your steward have bad news?”
He grimaced slightly, wishing that Ferguson would bring him any news that was not bad. “He has discovered another crack. Not as serious as the one you can see but every flaw increases the possibility of collapse before it can be repaired.”
She looked unexpectedly troubled by the news. When she whispered, “Your beautiful home!” it was so soft, Darcy could believe she had not meant to say it aloud, and her use of the word ‘home’ twisted the ever-present knot in his gut uncomfortably tight.
“The damage appears to be limited to this section of the house, at least. It is built on an E-shaped footprint, and this wing is effectively the bottom arm of that E and is the only part showing deterioration. Which is fortunate in one regard, but it is adding considerably to the mystery of it.”
“I hope you find the cause—and a solution.”
“As do I. A lot of people depend on my doing so.”
She fixed him with one of her searching looks. “I confess, I never truly comprehended what a burden being master of all this must be.”
“It was not my intention to sound self-pitying.”
“I did not take it so. There are a lot of people depending on you—your housekeeper made that very clear when she spoke to us on Monday.”
Darcy knew not whether he was more indignant or disconcerted to hear that Mrs Reynolds told anyone anything about him. “And pray, what else does my housekeeper say of me to visitors?”
“You need not look so horrified—she was very complimentary about you,” Elizabeth said with a grin.
“My comment about burdens relates to something she said about your tenants and servants. It made me consider how many people’s happiness must be in your guardianship.
And here,” she gestured towards the house, “is proof of how far that guardianship extends beyond people. It is a vast responsibility.”
“It is not an unwelcome one. Indeed, it is more privilege than burden.”
“Pemberley is fortunate to have such a conscientious master. Not all landlords are so dedicated. My father has certainly not taken the same care with Longbourn. I do not presume to compare the two houses, but even in relative terms, Longbourn has not flourished under my father’s superintendence as Pemberley is clearly doing under yours.
Perhaps because it is entailed…” She shook her head.
“I do not know, but yours is a very fine legacy.”