Chapter 12
Back Field
Longbourn
Half an Hour Later
The Bennet carriage lurched to a halt, and Elizabeth said, “Please wait within until I find the comet in the lens piece. I hope it will not take long, but it is rather a cold night, and you might well get chilled, Clara.”
“And moreover, having two people hovering as you search for a comet would not be particularly enjoyable,” her friend said with a chuckle.
“That is true,” Elizabeth replied just as the door opened and Caleb, one of the Bennet servants, appeared outside with a glowing lantern in one hand, and his other hand outstretched in order to help her down to the ground.
She took his hand and jumped lightly down and then shifted her gaze skyward as Caleb closed the door to hold in the heat for her guests.
It was a clear night, and the moon had not yet risen, and she took a deep breath of pleasure before making her careful way to the platform that her father had built some fifteen years earlier.
It was only a few feet above the ground, with three steps leading to the level wooden dais, and her father’s telescope waited for her there.
She was rather unexpectedly taken back to an easier, more carefree time.
Many times in her youth had she removed the protective oilcloth, just as she was doing now, her father's absentminded endearments in her ear as he showed her where to look in the sky.
She had peered through the eyepiece, as she had many times before, as her father had taught her how to scan the heavens for stars and planets and other celestial bodies.
Elizabeth kept her movements slow and methodical, sweeping the sector of sky where she knew the comet to be in the manner Sir Thomas had shown her so many years ago.
For all that it had been some five years or so since she had last used a telescope with any regularity, the habit had not yet died away from fingers as nimble as they had been when she was much smaller.
Elizabeth had been but twelve years of age the first time Sir Thomas had knocked at her door one night and asked if she wanted to come out and look through his telescope out in the field.
She had wrapped herself in her pelisse and crept down the stairs in his wake, her blood humming with the excitement.
That first look at the glory of the heavens spread over them, as viewed through her father's powerful telescope, had entranced her.
No invitation, after that, had been spurned, no chance squandered to spend time with her star-loving father and absorb his knowledge, to observe with him in awe and wonder those distant celestial beacons.
Then, when Elizabeth was fourteen, Mary emerged from the nursery and began to share in the nighttime forays.
Elizabeth did not grudge the time shared with her sister, but it was not long at all before Mary's passion and ability perceptibly outstripped Elizabeth's.
Independently but concurrently, Elizabeth had begun to take note of the great expenditures Longbourn bore and observed with increasing concern her father's blithe disregard for such paltry matters as the price of his books and equipment and Lady Bennet's spendthrift ways with regards to the garb of her family and the decoration of her home.
A few inquiries had shown that Emerald Island was in an equally indifferent condition, and Elizabeth, alarmed, had determined to remedy these oversights.
Jane had been equally concerned, but as she had no head for figures, the everyday sums of the estate had devolved to Elizabeth, with her elder sister assuming the role of comforter to Lady Bennet.
Elizabeth had uncomplainingly gathered up the reins of both estates and run them to full advantage.
The busyness of her newly assumed tasks, however, precluded further nighttime forays to stare for hours at a time into the firmament.
She realized that she had missed those hours spent staring into the sky. It was one thing to admire the stars with the unaided eye for a few minutes, it was quite another to gaze upon their brilliant gleam through a powerful lens.
Her search was at last rewarded, as the comet blazed brilliantly in the viewfinder, its tail streaming behind it like the train and veil of some great lady. It really was an awe-inspiring sight, and for just a moment, Elizabeth admired it with wonder before straightening.
She tightened the screws to keep the telescope from moving and turned toward Caleb, who was standing near the carriage with the lantern in his hand.
“Please open the door for the earl and countess,” she said. “I have found it.”
***
Darcy’s Bedchamber
Two Hours After Midnight
2nd November, 1811
Insomnia was not an affliction to which Fitzwilliam Darcy had ever been prone, but for the second time in as many nights he lay awake well past midnight, mind consumed with thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet.
The previous night, he had brooded over her refusal to dance with him at Lucas Lodge.
Now here he lay again, sleepless and cogitating about a most mysterious lady.
It had been such a strange day, and Miss Elizabeth continued to surprise him.
When Darcy had realized that Elizabeth had overheard his insulting remark at the assembly, he had been full of uneasy shame.
Darcy was a gentleman, and it behooved a gentleman to be courteous to all and sundry, even his social inferiors.
And inferiors, he had thought, they were.
Yes, the master of the estate had been knighted, but Sir Thomas sounded like a very eccentric man, and Lady Bennet, while welcoming, was overly garrulous and sometimes vulgar.
None of which excused Darcy's incivility regarding Miss Elizabeth’s looks, of course, but it was undeniable that the Bennets were infinitely inferior socially.
It had been undeniable.
Now, he was not at all sure where the Bennets stood socially.
He had been utterly amazed at Lady Keaton's artless and affectionate greeting to Miss Elizabeth.
It had been surreal to see the Countess and Earl of Keaton there in the provincial little drawing room of Longbourn, as well at ease and comfortable as though they belonged in such a humble setting.
The last time Darcy had seen Lady Keaton, she had been Lady Clara Whitman, and their dance at Almack's had been the merest politeness on both their parts, for the wealthy daughter of a marquis was well above even Darcy's aspirations for a bride.
Granddaughter of a duke, daughter of a marquis, wife of an earl, and yet Lady Keaton stood on terms of easy intimacy with the second daughter of a strange country knight.
How had the two ladies met, much less become such true friends?
How had Darcy heard nothing of it in all the society gossip that reached his ears?
How many more such friends did Miss Elizabeth quietly claim?
Miss Bingley had been very sour about the Countess's unceremonious refusal to visit Netherfield Hall and subsequent dismissal, and Darcy smiled ruefully as he contemplated his hostess.
If she were on terms of easy familiarity with a lady of such birth, such position, one would never hear the end of it.
In nearly every conversation, Miss Bingley would contrive to bring up the friendship.
Such a trait was not unique. Indeed, all of London society was built on a complicated filigree tower of relations and connections.
Who knew who was the lifeblood of their society, which only threw into sharp relief the stark contrast of Miss Elizabeth's humility.
She did not cultivate friendship with Lady Keaton with an ambitious eye to her own advancement, but she seemed to enjoy the other lady's company.
Such simple, uncomplicated affection, with no eye to any other end but the joy of one another's conversation, was not at all common in the higher social strata. It was … admirable.
Darcy could add it to his list of admirable traits that Miss Elizabeth exhibited. That list was growing quickly, and he found himself both bemused and full of admiration. A lady who cultivated friendships with Countesses and spoke knowledgeably about the breeding of sheep…
That was a happy thought, and one that would lend itself to somnolence more easily than to continue pondering the qualities of Elizabeth Bennet. He wondered how the breeding of the ewes was going at Pemberley, and whether he could expect the lamb crop to be good this spring…
Finally, Darcy sank into woolly dreams.
***
Guest Bedchamber
Longbourn
Two Days Later
4th November, 1811
Elizabeth stepped into the countess’s chamber and looked around critically.
Lady Bennet had decorated the Blue Room some years previously with excellent taste and lavish expense.
The color scheme reminded the discerning viewer very much of the ocean, with the blue wallpaper and the green carpets on the floor and the green frilled cushions on the chairs.
The quilt on the bed only enhanced this impression, with white lace accenting the blues and greens of the fabric.
The room was rather too elegantly expensive for a guest chamber that was but rarely used, but Lady Bennet never let pass an opportunity to indulge her taste for finery, and it would have been unthinkable to let a guest want for anything at all.
The decorations for this room and the adjacent room had been purchased before Elizabeth took over control of the estate, and she did not begrudge it, though she was determined not to permit Lady Bennet to redecorate the rooms again.
Lord Keaton was comfortably established in the Pearl Room next door.
Though Longbourn was not large enough to boast a shared sitting room between guest chambers, the Pearl Room was every bit as well-appointed as the Blue Room, and their side-by-side situation made them the most expedient rooms in the house for a married couple.