Chapter Ten
Rosings Park, Kent
Elizabeth sprawled languidly on the sofa, fanning herself and only-half attending the various conversations in the too-warm parlor.
Across the room, her mother, her aunt Lady Anne, and the dowager countess were consumed with the wedding planning that had become the greater share of their daily routine.
They no longer required any contribution from the young people who were actually to be wed, and so Jane was sitting with Richard, Georgiana, and the vicar’s young wife, Mrs. Larson.
Elizabeth was in no humor to join either of these groupings, for she had been enjoying a private reverie, reflecting on the letter she received of Mr. Darcy’s safe arrival at Wildewood.
He had taken her advice and written as Miss Darrow, but a letter from Elizabeth’s new friend had arrived at the same time that morning; fortunately, her mother was distracted by the heat and the dowager countess’s ill-informed flower preferences, and Lady Catherine only made the barest of satirical remarks on Miss Darrow sending two letters.
Elizabeth and her relations had been back at Rosings for a week now, and she had been eagerly anticipating her first communication from Mr. Darcy, having written to him daily, as she promised.
She relished every word her love had penned, for all of them were crafted to tenderly reassure her of the depth of his regard.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth’s lovelorn ennui was rather spoilt by the unbearable summer heat, and she silently cursed whoever had thought it sensible to give Rosings Park quite so many windows, yet so few that could unlatch to let in a breeze.
Seated in the cluster not far from her, Georgiana was regaling Mrs. Larson with tales of their luxurious exploits in London, and Richard began to implore Jane to display her recent sketches, for she had taken the likeness of many of their new acquaintance during morning calls.
Elizabeth smiled lazily at how eagerly Richard admired Jane; it was just what she deserved.
Though she was not in the humor for company – an uncommon condition for Elizabeth – she ignored Jane’s modest demurrals and retrieved the sketchbook.
At least where Jane and her companions sat, there was a nearby window that was blessedly open.
She turned to the page that marked the beginning of their time in London, and joined Richard in boasting of Jane’s incredible talent for capturing their friends so accurately.
Mrs. Larson laughed at the satirical expression Jane had captured in Sir Rolland Moore, the outlandish pose Lord Douglas had consented to be sketched in, and the sheer wickedness Rebecca’s portrait exuded.
She marveled at Miss Darrow’s beauty enough to gratify Elizabeth, and actually gasped at the wondrous masculine magnificence of Mr. Darcy.
They leafed through the pages for a quarter hour, viewing scenes of the park and the drawing room at Lady Findlay’s house, half-remembered rendering of balls and parties, and a few other portraits.
Mr. Wickham was amongst them, for he and the Gardiners had called a few times at Lady Findlay’s house, and always when Lady Anne and Lady Catherine were conveniently absent.
Jane had drawn him, as well as his mother, the second Mrs. Gardiner.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as she turned over this page, recollecting the unsettling effect the woman had on her beloved aunt.
As they finished perusing the sketchbook, Lady Rebecca came into the parlor with Lord Douglas and Rupert. They were dressed in light clothing meant for the outdoors, and the marquess carried a large basket filled with towels and spare clothing – and, noticeably, two bottles of wine.
“Aunt Anne,” Lady Rebecca said sweetly, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I do hope you will not consider us as trespassers if we go swimming in your charming pond. It is so hot that poor Rupert hardly had the energy to cheat at cards, and we are in want of a more refreshing amusement.”
Lady Anne agreed at once, but Lady Catherine cried out with shock. “You cannot mean to all swim together?”
Rupert shrugged. “We shall have clothing on. Besides, Oscar is her betrothed, and I am Rebecca’s brother – I remember her running naked through the halls of Matlock when she was three years old, consumed with rage at the threat of a bath.”
Mrs. Larson gave a soft gasp, but Jane and Richard leaned close together as they shared a laugh. Elizabeth perked up a little. “Mamma, may I go with them?”
“Certainly,” Lady Anne and Rebecca said at once, but Lady Catherine grimaced at them both.
“Elizabeth, what are you thinking? It would not at all be proper.”
“They are my cousins – Lord Douglas is soon enough to be family. It is unbearably hot. We may as well have stayed in London, where we might have been cool and content,” Elizabeth huffed.
She had not intended to be so petulant, but she still resented her mother for separating her from Mr. Darcy, and the heat was truly miserable.
Lady Catherine thumped her cane with indignation. “Elizabeth!”
“I am going,” Elizabeth insisted. She muttered her apologies to the mortified Mrs. Larson before storming out of the room.
Rebecca pursued her, praising her defiance as she helped Elizabeth change into a thin, simple muslin gown.
She stashed away another day dress to don after her swim, and put on a straw bonnet with a wide brim to shade her from the sun.
Lady Catherine did not prevent their departure, but Elizabeth was certain she would face the consequences of her insolence when she returned home. Good. She found herself uncommonly inclined to quarrel with her mother.
They rode the short distance to Beaumont Hall in Lord Douglas’s fine barouche, and with the windows open the speed of the carriage gratified them with a cooling breeze.
Their journey was short; the pond was a sight of beauty, and not only for the relief it promised.
A hillside painted with colorful flowers sloped down toward the pond, and which was shaded more than halfway around with sprawling oaks and large pink hydrangea shrubs. It was just the oasis Elizabeth needed.
She swam here often as a child, with her sisters and Georgiana, under the supervision of their mothers.
Lady Anne and Lady Catherine had once enjoyed picnicking on the hillside as they watched their daughters frolic – before they had grown old enough to be consigned to more proper pursuits.
Perhaps she was too old, too dignified for such things now, but at present Elizabeth knew it was the best chance of alleviating her recent ill humor.
After a few minutes in the water, Rupert and Lord Douglas laid on their backs on the sunny hillside, drinking the wine they had packed. Elizabeth and Rebecca swam to the shaded side of the pond, treading water in the shallows.
“I am sorry if all the talk of weddings makes you pine desperately for Mr. Darcy.” Rebecca was only half in jest, and she offered Elizabeth a wary smile.
“I am happy for you, and for Jane, truly,” Elizabeth said. “I am only cross with Mamma for taking me away from London.”
“Away from Mr. Darcy, you mean.”
“I knew it was inevitable, after we left Matlock House. Even so, I only wanted a little longer with him – though he might have proposed a little sooner – I made no secret of my feelings.”
Rebecca gave a saucy laugh. “You never do. But you must know why she did so – you are less than a fortnight away from your majority, Lizzy.”
“Yes, and then I mean to do as I please – as my heart compels me. I intend to go to him, Rebecca. We could elope.”
“It need only be a scandal if your mother insisted upon it. But of course, she will. She is far too fond of outrage.”
Elizabeth screwed up her face. “I do not want to be so cross with her. I owe her my gratitude for all that she has done for me, and she is entitled to my compassion, for I know she still feels the loss of my sister Anne. But in her aspirations that I marry a title, I fear Mamma does too much for me. It is not the sort of generosity I desire.”
“Well, if you mean to vex her by running away, you must let me be of assistance to you. Since my own preferences are not at all wanted in planning the nuptials, I must find some way of entertaining myself.”
Elizabeth had hoped to hear this; she had chosen her confidante well. As they swam for the next hour, they laid out a plan for Elizabeth to make her way to Mr. Darcy’s side at once.
They returned to Rosings with damp hair and aching muscles, but they were a merry party.
Rebecca confessed that they had trespassed on the hospitality of Beaumont Hall, enjoying some of the housekeeper’s special mint lemonade and relishing air that was much cooler than the indoors of Rosings Park.
Everything she said was carefully crafted to incite a certain result, and it was quite the success.
Lady Anne smiled, as if the notion that occurred to her was all her own.
“What if we all remove to Beaumont Hall until the weddings? I believe it must be cooler there, as Rebecca says, for we have fewer windows, and they are chiefly on the north side of the house. I have rooms enough for all of you, and my dear Henry shall be visiting from school for a fortnight.”
At the height of the afternoon heat, the whole party took to this scheme with alacrity.
Lady Anne promised she could have seven or eight guest rooms made ready in all haste, and Lady Catherine decided that they would depart after breakfast the next morning.
Elizabeth and Rebecca shared a look of triumph, though only her cousin could take pride in such manipulation.