6. Chapter Six #4
Elizabeth watched from the doorway while her sister bent over the pianoforte beside Miss Darcy, both girls speaking in tandem about music and it was clear Miss Darcy was not presently inclined to play. Lydia did not seem a girl unjustly exiled to misery. She was alive with curiosity.
When Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy watching the same scene, he said, “Your sister has a talent for bringing animation with her.”
“That is one word for it.”
“A useful one in Georgiana’s case.”
Elizabeth’s answer softened before she could prevent it. “Miss Darcy seems very happy with her.”
“She does.” He did not elaborate, but the gratitude in his face made further speech unnecessary.
Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Gardiner returned from their private conference just as Mrs. Reynolds announced that refreshments had been laid in the small parlor. The party gathered there with the odd, buoyant awkwardness of people who had all privately reached a conclusion but had not yet spoken it aloud.
The small parlor overlooked a rose garden where the late blooms leaned heavily in the warmth. The windows stood open. A spaniel slept beneath a side table and thumped its tail twice when Miss Darcy entered. Lemonade, tea, fruit, cold meats, and cakes had appeared with startling efficiency.
Lydia took one look at the table and whispered to Miss Darcy, “If this is how one is refreshed at Pemberley, I may survive Derbyshire after all.”
Miss Darcy practically spilled her lemonade.
Mrs. Gardiner, seated beside her husband, accepted a cup of tea from Elizabeth and then spoke to Mr. Darcy. “We have considered your sister’s invitation.”
Elizabeth’s hand tightened around the saucer she still held.
Mr. Darcy stood near the window, sunlight touching one shoulder. “I hope you will decide as suits your comfort, Mrs. Gardiner. Nothing more.”
“My husband and I would be very glad to accept, provided you are certain it causes no inconvenience. Since Mr. Bingley’s party is expected, and Miss Darcy has a companion in the house, I do not feel as awkward accepting the invitation.”
Darcy hesitated only a moment. “Mrs. Annesley is unfortunately absent at present. Her daughter was recently brought to bed of her first child, and she has remained in Yorkshire to attend her. Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds must therefore forgive any deficiencies in our hospitality.”
“Then Miss Darcy has been deprived of her companion at the very moment she would most wish for one,” Mrs. Gardiner said kindly.
Georgiana smiled, though a trace of sadness crossed her face. “We expect Mrs. Annesley back within a few weeks.”
Miss Darcy’s face brightened instantly. Lydia clapped once before remembering herself and lowering her hands to her lap.
Darcy bowed. “It will be our pleasure.”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled at Miss Darcy. “You are very kind to welcome such unexpected guests.”
Miss Darcy glanced at Lydia before answering. “I am glad of it.”
Lydia leaned toward her. “So am I, though I reserve the right to complain if there is no dancing.”
“Lydia,” Elizabeth warned.
Mr. Gardiner appeared pleased. “We shall send to Lambton for our things. I will write to the innkeeper and have the trunks brought.”
Mrs. Reynolds, who had entered with fresh cups, required no further instruction. “I shall have rooms prepared, sir. The blue rooms for Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, I think, and the adjoining chambers overlooking the east lawn for the young ladies.”
Lydia sat forward eagerly. “Do they overlook anything interesting?”
“The rose garden, part of the lawn, and the path toward the stables.”
“The stables?” Lydia repeated, pleased. “Excellent.”
Elizabeth stared at her. “You have never cared for stables.”
“I may begin.”
Darcy covered his mouth with one hand, though whether to hide amusement or alarm Elizabeth could not determine.
Mr. Gardiner rose to write the necessary note.
Mrs. Gardiner went with him, discussing the logistics of sending a servant to Lambton.
Miss Darcy asked Lydia whether she would like to see the rose garden before dressing for dinner, and Lydia accepted with an enthusiasm that would have shocked her earlier self, who had declared herself indifferent to every plant in Derbyshire.
Elizabeth remained near the tea table, one abandoned cup in her hand.
Mr. Darcy stood by the open window.
The spaniel beneath the side table sighed in its sleep. Outside, Lydia’s voice carried from the garden, asking whether Pemberley had ever hosted a masquerade. Miss Darcy’s answer was too soft to hear, but Lydia’s delighted “Then it ought!” came clearly enough.
Elizabeth set down the cup before she dropped it.
“I hope,” she said, turning toward Mr. Darcy, “that you know what you have done.”
His eyes moved from the garden to her face. “Invited your sister into my house?”
“And my aunt and uncle. And me.”
“I am aware.”
“You may yet repent it.”
A dog barked outside. Lydia laughed again. Somewhere down the hall Mrs. Reynolds issued orders about linens, fires not needed, flowers to be cut, and trunks to be brought from Lambton.
Darcy let the sounds of the household stirring around them wash over him.