Chapter 37
WHERE ALL IS WELL, THEN NOT SO WELL AT ALL, BUT THE LAST BIT IS PERFECT.
“How do you like Pemberley, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth linked her arm companionably with her friend’s as they followed a manicured gravel path adjacent to the lake.
A thin sheet of ice had formed on the lake’s surface at the shoreline, where the vast, rolling front lawn met the water.
Without warning, a stiff winter gust blew in from the north, buffeted Elizabeth’s gown against her legs, and tangled her skirts about her ankles.
Startled, she emitted a peal of laughter and held tightly to Mr Ellis’s arm until it had passed, then released him to untwist her gown.
“I believe I like Pemberley every bit as much as I did the first time I visited, perhaps even more so now that I shall never have to leave.” She smiled cheerfully as she reclaimed his arm.
“Now you must tell me your impression of my new home, Mr Ellis. Does Pemberley and its beautiful grounds meet with your approval?”
Mr Ellis grinned at her as they resumed their walk along the lake.
“I imagine there are very few who would not approve. In all my travels, I cannot recall ever seeing a house so happily situated. Pemberley is truly one of the finest estates I have ever had the pleasure of visiting. I am eager to see more of it. Your Mr Darcy is a man of considerable consequence, far more so than I had initially surmised.”
“Now that you have taken his measure,” she replied blithely, “I suppose you must wonder what he sees in an impertinent country miss like me?”
“Not at all. Anyone with eyes can see how sincerely he loves you. You are impertinent, yes, but I would wager your frankness must have been a breath of fresh air after passing years in a stale room full of sycophants. No, your staid Mr Darcy is far more pleased by your country manners than he ever was by flattery and flirtation from the first set.”
Elizabeth smiled. She had often thought so herself and said, “He is not so staid as you might think, but I do believe you are correct.”
“As I often am,” he teased. “It is good of him to allow me to walk out with you alone this morning. I had thought he would guard you more closely, especially as you have yet to exchange your vows.”
She wrinkled her nose at such a pronouncement. “Mr Darcy is to be my husband, not my keeper. Nor does he begrudge me wanting to spend time with you.”
“He is generous.”
“He is that, but he is also considerate. He is compassionate and understanding.”
Mr Ellis raised an inquisitive brow. “And what pray, does Mr Darcy understand about us?”
“He is not ignorant of our history. He knows he has nothing to fear.”
Frowning, Mr Ellis slowed and their leisurely progress along the lake came to a halt. “What did you tell him, Lizzy?”
Biting her lip, she let go of his arm. “I told him how you taught me to ride. I told him about your father.” Deciding her confession could use some levity, she admitted, “I told him how you once thought yourself madly, hopelessly in love with Jane.”
Mr Ellis rolled his eyes at her silliness. “For shame, Elizabeth Bennet. Should Bingley call me out before supper, I shall know precisely who is to blame.”
“You do not know the first thing about it,” she insisted with a smile. “Mr Darcy is far too honourable to mention such a thing to his friend. Your secret is safe.”
“So is Jane,” he replied with a rueful twist of his mouth as he reclaimed her hand and placed it upon his arm. Tugging her forward, they resumed their walk. “Dear Jane. It has been a long time since I have thought of her in such a regard.”
Elizabeth looked off towards the lake, where a flock of geese had gathered to primp and preen.
“Mr Darcy knows your heart belongs to another. Pray do not be angry with me for telling him. I only wished to ease his mind, to make him understand he has nothing to fear from you. It is my dearest wish that you and he will be friends.”
Mr Ellis pressed her hand. “I would like that as well. The Gardiners are especially fond of him, and Bingley and Jane also think highly of him. I understand he intends to settle three thousand pounds on Mary and Kitty.”
The lightness Elizabeth felt moments before was replaced by exasperation as she recalled not only Darcy’s generosity to Mary and Kitty, but more specifically her mother’s insistence that Lydia ought to have something, too. “Mr Darcy is the very best of men, but sometimes he is too good.”
Mr Ellis looked at her askance, and she sighed.
“While I cannot object to his wanting to improve Mary’s and Kitty’s prospects, I fail to see how any good would come of his giving Lydia money.
Lydia cannot manage it. She cannot even manage to conduct herself as a respectable, married woman!
Her husband has abandoned her and left her penniless, yet she has grand ideas of being established in town, with a fine carriage and more pin money than Longbourn’s coffers see in a year. ”
“Despite such aspirations, it sounds as though Mr Darcy has no intention of giving Mrs Wickham three shillings, never mind three thousand pounds. She will go to Longbourn instead and reside there, much as she did before.”
“That may be what Mr Darcy, my brother, and my father have agreed to, but my mother does not favour such prudence. She has even gone so far as to recommend that Lydia make her home with us, at Pemberley.” The moment the words had left her mother’s mouth, Elizabeth had completely lost her composure.
She had been appalled by her suggestion; the prospect of Lydia living in the same house with Georgiana absolutely horrified her!
She hardly knew how Darcy had kept his temper in check.
Mr Ellis chuckled. “That is not likely to happen. Your Mr Darcy has made it clear he has no intention of keeping her, especially since you are so opposed to the scheme. All will be well, Lizzy. Mrs Wickham will return to Longbourn and the charity and protection of your father, and that will be an end of it. You need not even have her to visit.”
“Thank goodness for small favours,” she replied dryly.
They walked on for some minutes in companionable silence, slowly making their way back to the manor house.
When they were within a hundred feet or so of the family’s private entrance, Elizabeth looked up and noticed her mother framed charmingly in a second-storey window, wearing her best morning frock and a frown.
Elizabeth forced a cheerful smile to her face and waved.
Mrs Bennet raised her handkerchief and waved it about in an abrupt manner, but instead of returning Elizabeth’s smile, her expression became more severe.
A pang of unease settled in Elizabeth’s breast. “Mamma does not appear well-pleased. I wonder what could have happened now. It is not yet breakfast.”
Rather than commiserate with her, Mr Ellis snorted. “Fear not. She is likely bracing herself for an attack of nerves.”
“Dear Mamma,” Elizabeth mused. “Whatever shall she do when she has no more daughters to marry off to eligible gentlemen?”
“I daresay she shall go distracted,” said her friend.
“You are not yet a married woman, though. Until you promise to obey your husband in church, there is still every chance you will abandon propriety and run wild through Derbyshire at my behest, likely sitting astride a hateful horse. Your mother will, of course, conceal the scandal as best she can, but Mr Darcy’s servants are not only efficient, but loyal.
He will be informed without delay, regret choosing a wilful, impudent girl for his bride, and call off the wedding before your poor mother can call for her salts.
After that, I suspect it will be pistols at dawn. ”
“Certainly not!” she cried with an incredulous laugh.
“I refuse to believe that is the case! While I readily admit my mother’s fear that I shall run wild through Pemberley’s grounds and risk scandalising the servants with my improper comportment is not entirely without merit, she cannot possibly be worried Mr Darcy will refuse to marry me because of it.
The marriage articles have been signed. My gown has been pressed.
There is nothing more to do but exchange our vows in church. ”
“Which will happen first thing tomorrow. A rational person would take all those things into consideration and arrive at the obvious conclusion, but this is your dear mother we are speaking of, Lizzy. Surely, you must have noticed her unprecedented silence last night when we first arrived.”
“I did notice,” she confessed, “but I soon arrived at the conclusion that to look a gift horse in the mouth would do no one any favours. My father did not appear to disagree. He was nearly as silent as my mother, though he did not appear to be the least bit cowed by Pemberley’s splendour.”
“No, but your father never was one for pomp and circumstance. His silence likely has to do with losing you, his favourite child. As for your mother, she certainly overcame her awe quickly enough. If nothing else, you may take comfort in this—she can think of nothing so fitting as a rich gentleman wanting to marry one of her daughters, even if that daughter is you.”
Elizabeth swatted his arm and he endeavoured to duck out of reach, laughing all the while. “Goose,” she muttered, pretending to be cross. Her quirking lips soon gave way to laughter.
“Consider yourself fortunate. Though your mother mortified you quite thoroughly last night, you were at least spared the indignity of travelling with her. For three days she complained about your father going to London without her, Lydia’s misfortunes, Lady Carlisle hosting the wedding breakfast, Lady Catherine haranguing her in her own home.
Then there was the usual talk of hems and lace and nerves and countless other nonsense too numerous to name. ”