In the Wilds of Derbyshire Page 34

  “Miss Bennet,” said he carefully, as they were walking in Pemberley’s gardens, “I wish to ask your opinion on a matter of which I spoke with your uncle.”

  Miss Bennet nodded. “Of course.”

  “Mr. Drummond raised the possibility that your own change in status when we marry will prompt your sister to again alter her behavior toward you. I wished to know your thoughts about it.”

  A faraway look descended over Miss Bennet’s countenance, and for some few moments she was silent. At length, however, she turned toward him, her glorious eyes filled with a depth of pain he had never before beheld in them.

  “If she is behaving the way she is because of pride in her new situation that would not be unreasonable to expect.” Her voice was quiet and Darcy was forced to strain to hear her. “I hope that is not the case. I am not confident of it, however.”

  “And what will you do if it is proven true?”

  A sigh escaped her lips. “I do not wish to believe it of my dearest, angelic sister. But you are correct to suggest it. I suppose I do not know what I shall do. There is not only my relationship with my sister to consider, but also your friendship with Mr. Bingley which, I have heard, is quite close.”

  Darcy smiled at her resilience expressed in the lightness of her tone, however forced. “Yes, it is, indeed.”

  “If she does so, then I suppose I will accept it, in the name of family unity and your friendship with Mr. Bingley, of whom I also think highly. But I cannot imagine it will ever be the same between us should that be the case.”

  “I am afraid I do not know what to think,” replied Darcy.

  “Nor do I,” replied Miss Bennet. “Think of it in this fashion, Mr. Darcy: what would you think if Georgiana suddenly began to behave in like fashion because she married a man who was of greater consequence than you?”

  Darcy frowned. “I cannot imagine her doing that.”

  “I could not have imagined it in my sister until I witnessed her behavior myself,” replied Miss Bennet. “In essentials, Georgiana and Jane are quite similar. Both are quiet and reticent, and both are possessed of an obliging, pleasing disposition. Jane attempts to see the best in others, no matter the situation, and though I have always thought it naïve of her, it was a counter to my own cynicism, a viewpoint I treasured. Mr. Bingley has often referred to her has an angel, a sentiment with which I cannot disagree.”

  “And yet the angel has become less estimable than you could have imagined.”

  “Exactly,” said Miss Bennet. “I am hoping her behavior will have changed since I saw her last. Mr. Bingley suggested she needs time to adjust to her new situation.”

  “Discomfort with one’s position would lead to an increased desire for the intimacy of those dear to one’s heart, I should think.”

  “I do not disagree. But in Jane, the opposite seems to be true. We shall see when she arrives. At present, I have hope, but little confidence.”

  Miss Bennet then turned the conversation to other matters, and though she spoke willingly and at times with her usual vivacity, still he could tell her heart was not in it. The upcoming visit of her sister weighed on her mind. It was only with the greatest of will that Darcy kept his own council—he knew enough of her by now to know she would approach him if she wished for his opinion or the comfort of his assurances, but that she consulted her own feelings and came to her own conclusions before she would ask for his.

  As the day for Miss Bennet’s picnic approached, Darcy gave her the promised riding instruction and was delighted at her aptitude.

  “You informed me you were not much of a rider, Miss Bennet,” said he as he led her around the fenced yard in which they trained horses and riders. “But I see little to criticize in your technique.”

  “Then I must be a quick study,” said Miss Bennet with her typical impudence. “I have not been on a horse in a year at least.”

  “You are more than qualified to join us on the picnic, Lizzy,” said Georgiana. The two girls stood nearby behind the fence, Georgiana observing and making amusing comments while Olivia awaited her turn.

  “Then perhaps it would be best to allow Olivia to gain more confidence,” said Miss Bennet. “She has not as much experience as I.”

  They quickly agreed and Miss Drummond took her cousin’s place on the back of the placid mare they had been using for their practice. Darcy found that she, too, possessed some natural aptitude, and though she would not be jumping fences in the near future, he was happy to inform her that she was competent enough to accompany them when they went on the picnic.

  When Friday finally came, they gathered together at Pemberley to set out, six in the group, as it included Fitzwilliam and Edward. The location to which Darcy intended to guide them was some miles distant, and it passed through the rougher parts of his estate, not to mention several streams, all of which Darcy was certain Miss Bennet would delight in. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, prompting the ladies to pull down their bonnets to cover their eyes, the warmth of the day such that even such mild exertion of a walk raised a sheen of perspiration on the horses’ backs. It was wonderful to be alive in such a time and place, and Darcy envisioned many more such opportunities with his beautiful bride in the years to come.

  Miss Bennet and Miss Olivia stayed close to Georgiana, the three of them laughing and talking as they rode, while Darcy and Fitzwilliam rode ahead and Edward brought up the rear, watching the ladies carefully and casting around for any hint of trouble.

  “It is a sight to move any man, is it not Darcy?” asked Fitzwilliam, glancing back at the ladies as they rode. “Such fair maidens all gathered together in one place is rarely to be seen.”

  “You will receive no argument from me, Cousin,” replied Darcy. Miss Bennet laughed at something his sister said, and for a moment she seemed to have shed the specter of Mrs. Bingley’s coming and returned to her usual self.

  “In some ways I envy you, Cousin. You recognized a jewel and determined to have her, and you let nothing stand in your way.”

  “There is nothing preventing you from doing the same.”

  “Except for the lack of a similar jewel.”

  “You will find her. And when you do, I believe you will act in the same manner I have.”

  Fitzwilliam replied with a noncommittal shrug and the subject was dropped.

  “I saw Chesterfield yesterday,” said Fitzwilliam after they had ridden on for several more moments.

  “I trust he is well?”

  “He is. The topic of our discussion was Lady Emily. The earl is concerned for her, as she has largely withdrawn into herself.”

  Darcy snorted; he had little sympathy for Lady Emily, not after her behavior with Miss Bennet. “I am certain she will recover. Her infamy was kept from society, so she will have no consequences to bear on that front. I hope she will learn from this episode.”

  “I am certain she will. I told the earl I thought she was revaluating much of what she believed and, in the end, will come away better for the experience.”

  Darcy nodded. “Then I wish her luck. For my part, it will be long before I can meet her as an agreeable acquaintance. You know of my resentful temper—my good opinion will take time to restore.”

  “Perhaps that is so,” replied Fitzwilliam, turned to Darcy, spearing him with a glare, “but for you to say you have a resentful temper is patently absurd. What of George Wickham and all the chances he was given over the years? If anything, I think you tend to be too forgiving at times.”

  “I know my own temper, Cousin. I will do my best to extend Lady Emily the balm of forgiveness as Miss Bennet has, but do not hold out hope it will happen soon.”

  “For my part I believe that she may be changed. There is something . . . estimable about her, though her jealousy over your attentions to Miss Bennet was reprehensible. I believe this experience will make her into a new woman.”

  Darcy nodded but he did not reply. The wound was
still too new, too raw, for him to consider whatever good qualities Lady Emily might have. It was unfair, perhaps, but there it was, nonetheless.

  It was not many more minutes before they arrived at the site Darcy had designated for the picnic. It was a grassy section beside a stream, happily rumbling and tumbling over rocks and little depressions. The woods were close around three sides, while on the fourth side rose a low hill which overlooked the long valley that contained much of Pemberley’s lands. It was deep within the boundaries of Pemberley, some distance from the lands Darcy’s tenants farmed, a location which was not suitable for farming, though Darcy knew that at times the herds of sheep might be led hither to drink from the stream or eat of the hearty grass which covered the ground.

  “What a delightful place this is!” exclaimed Miss Bennet as the horses filed into the glen.

  “I knew you would enjoy it,” replied Darcy. “This place could have been made for you specifically, so tailored is it to your tastes.”

  Miss Bennet turned and regarded him. “Has my character suddenly become easily understood, Mr. Darcy? I had always prided myself on its intricacy.”

  Darcy returned her grin. “It is simply because I have undertaken a study of your preferences, Miss Bennet. How else was I to ensure you accepted our friendship?”

  “You might have simply showed me this place and saved yourself the trouble!” Miss Bennet laughed, and Georgiana and Olivia, listening to their banter, joined them in their humor.

  “Perhaps you should wait until I have shown you the second vista. I believe you will be even more impressed.”

  “That may wait until later!” cried Georgiana. “I am hungry. You shall need to wait until after we eat our luncheon!”

  The others all agreed with Georgiana’s claim, and though Miss Bennet grumbled in a teasing fashion, they all agreed to eat before they undertook any further exploration.

  Luncheon was excellent, nothing less than he would have expected from Pemberley’s kitchen, and as the company was good, laughter and lively conversation reigned. It was about an hour later that they had finished eating and set about exploring. Eager as he was to have Miss Bennet to himself, Darcy guided her a little way down the stream to a low waterfall. Miss Bennet came along with pleasure, though she did not resist the temptation to tease him.

  “Not that I am complaining, but I believe you mentioned something about a view from the top of that hill. Have you suddenly changed your mind, Mr. Darcy?”

  “I have not. But at the moment, I believe it is more important to have you to myself than to show you the view. We can attend to that after.”

  Miss Bennet looked over to the hill to see their four companions climbing toward the top, talking and laughing as they went. Darcy’s gaze followed hers and it was easy to see the glances they were drawing and to note the laughter was directed at them. It did not bother him, for it was he who was in this wonderful creature’s company and no one else. He hoped they were circumspect enough not to speak with too much openness, as Edward still did not know of their engagement. Then again, Darcy was certain he could trust the young man to keep the confidence should he discover it.

  “There is one boon I would request, though.” Miss Bennet turned to face him. “I would wish, now that we are almost officially engaged, for you to call me by my given name and to be afforded the same privilege.”

  “But if I do that, I shall confuse you with your cousin,” replied Miss Bennet.

  Darcy grinned. “We could not have that, could we? Georgiana has always called me William, and I would find it very agreeable if you would do likewise.”

  “Very well,” replied Miss Bennet, a shyness descending over her like the onset of night.

  “So, what is your opinion, Elizabeth?” said he, relishing the sound of her name on his lips for the first time. “Do you approve of Pemberley?”

  “Is there anyone who does not?” was her reply.

  “My aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Though she has not visited in several years, preferring us attend her in Kent, every time she has visited she has complained about the wildness and castigated us for leaving it the way it is.”

  The laughter his words prompted spoke to a knowledge of the woman which could only have been gained by listening to her toady of a cousin’s accounts. “I am not surprised, sir. I am convinced that at Rosings Park everything is maintained to Lady Catherine’s exacting standards and not even a blade of grass would dare be out of place.”

  Darcy joined her in laughing heartily. “You are not that far from the mark, Elizabeth. Lady Catherine insists that there be formal gardens aplenty with all of society’s ideas of truly modern gardens incorporated. It is beautiful and pleasant and so very sterile.”

  “I much prefer this,” said Elizabeth. “It is as nature intended it to be.”

  “It is,” said Darcy, though his gaze was fixed upon her, enchanted by her beautiful form amongst the flora of his home.

  They wandered for some time, speaking of very little of consequence, though there was no deficit of words between them. At each new scene, each new sight of the beauties of Pemberley, she exclaimed anew, lighting her countenance like the sun could never accomplish. At one point they saw a deer in the distance, grazing on the soft grasses below its feet, and Elizabeth watched it for some moments, marveling in the abundant wildlife which also permeated Pemberley.

  “Come, Elizabeth,” said Darcy at length. “Let us go to the top of the hill so I may show you what lies beyond.

  Elizabeth turned to look, noting that Georgiana and Fitzwilliam had led their guests to another location, leaving the hilltop bare of occupants. “Of course, William,” said she as she took his hand and allowed him to guide her as they climbed. The slope was shallow, rising to a gentle crest amid strands of trees, but at the very top it was bare, allowing those at its peak a view down into the valley below.

  When they had reached the top, Darcy turned to Elizabeth, noting the utter delight with which she gazed down into the valley. The land just below them started as a narrow passage, with trees pressing down on all sides. But as it sloped downward, it opened, a wide avenue of fields, showing their early summer bounty, the promise of the harvest to come. And down in the center, in the distance shining like a jewel set there by the hand of god, sat Pemberley.

  “Oh, how lovely!” cried Elizabeth, clapping her hands in joy. “I have never seen such a wonderful sight, William. I could not have imagined we would be in sight of the house from here, though I will own it does look like a child’s toy from this distance.”

  “We journeyed through the woods, climbing as we came,” said Darcy, pointing to the line of trees which gradually fell off to the right. “On the left, the wide valley is bounded by that other line of trees, which provides much of Pemberley’s production. In among those trees, however, are other fields which cannot be seen, and woods where lumber is produced, and areas to herd sheep. If you look down the valley far past the house, you just might be able to make out where it curves toward the right.”

  “I believe I can see it,” said Elizabeth. She was gazing down the valley, one hand shielding her eyes and giving her a clearer view of the long valley.

  “The end to the valley in that direction is the edge of your uncle’s property.”

  “Oh!” said Elizabeth. “That is where we passed by when you returned me to Kingsdown and where Olivia, Leah, and I picnicking not long after I arrived.”

  “Exactly,” replied Darcy. “This valley is the main part of Pemberley’s land, though there is more to be found on all sides. But much of what we produce can be found down this broad avenue.”

  “What are your primary crops?”

  Pleased that Elizabeth would be interested in such things, Darcy said: “Wheat and barley, though we do adhere to modern practices of crop rotation, so it varies. I also have cattle on the western edge of the estate, we have already spoken of sheep, and there is a coal mine at the very north of the pro
perty. In fact, if we went a little north we would come on that mine, and then a little further would take us to the ruin we visited.”

  “A diverse and complex estate, then.”

  “It is,” replied Darcy. “But I would not have it any other way. Not only has Pemberley been in my family’s possession since the time of William the Conqueror, but a diverse operation, though more challenging, is more resistant to changing prices and the failure of certain crops. For example, in times past, Pemberley has been converted almost entirely to cattle, when the prices of certain grains fell so low as to harm our levels of profit. It is very much like an investment which must be watched carefully and adapted as needed.”

  “You are an excellent master, William. I am certain your father would be proud of how you have performed your stewardship of your land.”

  Nothing Elizabeth could have said would have brought more pleasure into Darcy’s heart than her praise. Without thought, he gathered her to him, kissing her head and pressing her slight form against his own, heedless of anyone watching.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth,” said he. “I can truthfully tell you that you belong at Pemberley as much as I ever did. You will be the perfect mistress, and our heirs will be blessed for having you as their mother.”

  Elizabeth pulled away from him and favored him with an arched eyebrow. “Are you not concerned that I shall only produce girls? My mother birthed a succession of five, you know.”

  “No, Elizabeth,” said Darcy, kissing her once again. “Pemberley is not entailed, and any of our children may inherit. As long as her husband is willing to take on my name, any girl of our blood may inherit.

  “And I am far from objecting to a gaggle of little girls with their mother’s eyes and liveliness. Should we have twelve such, I will never repine.”

  “Then perhaps you should birth them!” said Elizabeth, in that teasing tone he so loved. “I believe twelve might be a little excessive.”