In the Wilds of Derbyshire Page 9

  “Do you often come to Lambton, Miss Darcy?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Yes. It is the closest town to my home, and there are shops here which are quite charming, indeed.” Miss Darcy paused. “There is another town on the other side of Pemberley called Kympton, but it is a smaller town, with not so much of interest.”

  Unaccountably, Elizabeth experienced the vague notion that she had heard of Kympton in the past, but she could not remember exactly where. It was of little matter, so she shook it off, focusing her attention back on her new acquaintance. They stood in the street speaking for some moments, and Elizabeth’s initial impression of the girl as one possessing little experience with others not of her family circle and an excess of shyness was confirmed. Still, the longer they spoke and the more they shared of themselves, the more at ease she became, until she was speaking with calmness and composure, though perhaps not with the same animation Elizabeth, or even her cousin, possessed.

  When they had been speaking for some five or ten minutes, Elizabeth noted the approach of a gentleman, and she looked up, seeing Mr. Darcy striding toward them. And it was at that moment that she was forced to concede that he looked even better than he had only a few days before.

  “Brother!” called Georgiana as soon as she caught sight of Darcy approaching.

  “Georgiana,” replied Darcy, favoring her with affection. “Miss Drummond,” added he, bowing a little to the girl’s curtsey. “And, Miss Leah, of course.”

  The youngest Drummond giggled and imitated her sister’s curtsey, though with little of the grace her elder sister had displayed. Then Darcy turned to the other young lady of the group, noting that she had been watching his interactions with her relations, not to mention her look of amusement, which displayed not a hint of embarrassment.

  “Perhaps one of you ladies will do me the honor of introducing your companion?”

  “Of course,” said Miss Drummond. “This is my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is visiting us from Hertfordshire.”

  Interested by the information, Darcy turned to Miss Bennet. “I apologize, Miss Bennet, but I was not aware of any relations of the Drummonds.”

  “My father is Mrs. Drummond’s brother, Mr. Darcy.”

  “And your father also is a gentleman?”

  “Yes. My father’s estate is called Longbourn. It is not that far distant from Stevenage.”

  “Stevenage?” repeated Darcy. “Are you, by any chance, familiar with Netherfield? I understood it was quite near Stevenage. My friend is leasing it, at present.”

  “I should hope I am,” said Miss Bennet, flashing him a mischievous smile. “My sister is now the mistress of the estate.”

  “Bennet!” exclaimed Darcy, before he realized that the young miss must think him quite daft for suddenly blurting out her surname in such a fashion.

  “I apologize, Miss Bennet. You must understand that though my friend informed me of his engagement and marriage, his penmanship is atrocious. Through the blots, I was unable to determine if his new wife’s maiden name was Barnet, Bonnet, or Bon Nuit. I can see now that I was mistaken on all three counts.”

  To Darcy’s gratification, Miss Bennet laughed at his sally. “So I have come to understand, Mr. Darcy. In fact, one night while I was in company with them, Miss Bingley lamented on her brother’s carelessness in writing.” She shot him an arch look. “I distinctly remember your name being referenced as a standard to which he should aspire.”

  Darcy shook his head while his sister giggled in response. “I can well imagine it, Miss Bennet. I hope Mrs. Bingley is adjusting to her life as a married woman with ease?”

  A shadow seemed to pass over Miss Bennet’s face, but she quickly recovered. “With a husband as amiable as Mr. Bingley, I do not doubt that her adjustment period has been easy.”

  “Will you be in Derbyshire for long?”

  “Lizzy has come to help me become accustomed to society,” said Miss Drummond. She then ducked her head as if embarrassed. “My Papa intends for me to attend some society events in the area in the near future.”

  “And shall you attend the upcoming assembly?” asked Darcy, attempting to put the girl at ease.

  “I shall. Lizzy and I were being measured for some dresses today. I am very much anticipating it.”

  Darcy was certain the girl was, but her lack of coquettishness was refreshing, as it was in her elder cousin. This was clearly a lady of some substance, one he would not be averse to knowing better.

  They spoke on the street for some more moments before Drummond came to collect them. But Darcy was surprised by his sister, for she spoke to them before they could depart.

  “I would like to continue our friendship. Might I invite you to come to Pemberley and visit me in the next several days?”

  Though it was clear that Miss Bennet was delighted with the offer, she hesitated a little, shooting a glance at her uncle for his concurrence. Immediately understanding the gesture, Darcy felt obliged to speak up.

  “We would be happy to send a carriage.”

  “Thank you, Darcy,” said Drummond. “If the situation demands it, I would be happy to accept your generous offer.”

  Saying that, the Drummond party departed.

  “What pleasant people,” said Georgiana, as she watched them board their carriage. “Miss Bennet, in particular, is quite delightful. I believe I would like to have them as friends.”

  “And so you shall, Georgiana,” said Darcy.

  He steered his sister away toward their own carriage, and he reflected on the introductions which had just taken place. When Darcy had heard of his friend’s marriage, he had wondered if Bingley had finally been captured by one of his many angels. But if Mrs. Bingley was anything like her sister, Darcy thought it likely that Bingley had made a good match, though he did not know anything about her fortune or other connections. In the end, it was none of Darcy’s concern, so he decided to think instead upon how lovely Miss Bennet had appeared and how fine her manners. Perhaps he would do more than avoid dancing at the upcoming assembly.

  Chapter VII

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you say,” said Fitzwilliam. “And her sister is now married to Bingley?”

  “It appears to be so,” replied Darcy. He raised his drink to his mouth.

  “Is she as promising up close as she was from a distance?”

  “More so,” replied Darcy, thinking on his impressions of her. “You know that much of society will not consider any woman beautiful unless she is tall and blonde. Miss Bennet has neither of those traits, yet she is as fine a woman as I have ever beheld. She is petite, but her figure is womanly and attractive, her complexion fair, and her eyes are possibly the most glorious that I have ever beheld.”

  “Shall I receive an invitation to the wedding?”

  Darcy rolled his eyes, turning his attention away from his contemplation of the girl whose acquaintance he had made that day. “Not if you persist in making such comments.”

  “Oh ho!” cried the Colonel. “You did not deny an interest in her.”

  “Neither did I confirm one. I merely turned your impertinent remark away with a jest of my own.”

  Fitzwilliam shook his head. “I know you better than you think, Cousin. You never speak of a woman—other than to express your exasperation concerning that Bingley woman. I must, therefore, assume she has caught your interest.”

  “I do not deny that, though I will assert that I have met her but once.”

  “So you have.”

  “Tell me of Thorndell,” said Darcy, changing the subject. “Might I assume everything is well at your estate?”

  They continued to speak for some time about the colonel’s short journey, and Darcy was pleased at having been able to deflect his cousin. The teasing would undoubtedly resume at some later time, but for now, Darcy was content. The woman had impressed him, he was forced to confess, but he preferred there to be a reason for Fitzwilliam’s teasing, rather than h
is typical insouciance.

  The night of their return from Lambton, Elizabeth found herself unable to sleep, which was an unusual situation—Elizabeth rarely found herself suffering from insomnia. She was not certain she could pinpoint the reason herself—it seemed a combination of restlessness, thoughts about the acquaintances she had made that day, and the particularly handsome visage of Mr. Darcy. She did not know, but her thoughts swirled inside her mind, and no matter what she did, she could not induce them to settle.

  After lying in bed for some time, she decided that it was useless to fight it. She reached to her side table for the book she had purchased that day, intending to allow Blake to sooth her mind and prepare it for the blissful release of sleep. Unfortunately, it was not there, and a moment’s thought on the matter confirmed to Elizabeth that she had left it behind, likely in the sitting-room.

  Rising from her bed, Elizabeth slipped on her robe, and crossed her room to the door, opening it slowly to prevent any squeaking from the hinges, and slipped out through the narrow opening. The darkness of the night and the moonlight shining in through the window at the end of the hall gave it a ghostly sort of luminescence. Elizabeth hurried along toward the stairs, intent upon retrieving her book and returning to her room as soon as may be. She was arrested by the sound of voices.

  “Elizabeth is nothing but trouble.” The voice belonged to her aunt. “You should never have invited her to come here. We should send her back to Hertfordshire as soon as may be.”

  “In what way has she been trouble?” asked the mild voice of her uncle.

  “She is filling our daughters’ heads with dreams and frivolities. They need to remember the reality of their situation and not be distracted.”

  “We have discussed this before, Claire.” The warning note in her uncle’s voice was easy to discern.

  “Perhaps we have,” responded she. “But I no more agree with you now than I did then.”

  “I noted your objections then and I do so now. But they have no effect on me. I cannot see how Leah and especially Olivia do anything other than benefit from Elizabeth’s presence. She is easy in company, intelligent, and she is kind and friendly to them. Elizabeth is a true lady, by any measure, and I would ask you to remember that.”

  “You should not have taken them to Lambton. And you should not have spent so much of our money on clothes which will make no difference in the end.”

  “Again, your objections are noted, Wife. Is there anything else?”

  Elizabeth heard footsteps, and for a moment she thought to flee, when she realized that her aunt had started stalking the floor. Her tone was ever more exasperated, and Elizabeth was certain that she flailed her hands about in the air, attempting to make her points.

  “You are being foolish! Our girls have nothing with which to recommend themselves, and your idea of bringing my brother’s offspring here to teach them manners is laughable, considering the woman he married. All you have done is to burden us with another mouth to feed, one who does nothing to improve our situation. What must I do to make you understand this?”

  “You cannot,” was Mr. Drummond’s short reply. “For you are wrong. Burden us? Elizabeth has willingly taken on duties in our household, leaving us both free to attend to other tasks. And has she complained about doing so?”

  “She does not do enough,” muttered Mrs. Drummond, her voice just audible to Elizabeth.

  “I did not bring her here to be your maid. And you heard your brother—he would not have allowed her visit if you meant for her to spend her days in the scullery.”

  “She should do more.”

  “She does everything we ask with little complaint. How many other ladies of her station do you think would do as much as she does without protest?”

  They were silent for a moment, and Elizabeth began to wonder if she should not depart. She was not accustomed to listening at doors and knew it to be the height of bad manners, but in this instance, she felt herself a little justified, given the faults her aunt was laying at her door.

  “She is a gentlewoman, Claire,” said her uncle at length. “I will see her treated like a gentlewoman. Do not allow your own disappointment in life to provoke you to mistreat our niece. I will not have it.”

  At that moment Elizabeth decided that it would be best to retreat. Now knowing that a book would not hold her attention, she decided it was best for her to return to her room before her aunt caught her in the hallway. She certainly did not need the woman to think more poorly of her than she already did.

  The next day, Elizabeth made certain to go about her daily tasks in a quick and efficient fashion, though she noted, with no little cynicism, that she had never done anything else, regardless of what her aunt thought of her. It helped that Elizabeth enjoyed the work she was doing; she found it no hardship at all to serve as teacher for the younger children, and nothing about her other tasks was onerous.

  Mrs. Drummond watched her, much as she watched any other day since Elizabeth had arrived, but Elizabeth did not notice any difference between that day and any other, so she ignored the woman as much as possible.

  Though only three days north of Hertfordshire, Derbyshire’s climate was different from that to which Elizabeth was accustomed. For one thing, though it had already been warm, with life sprouting all around in Hertfordshire before Elizabeth had left, in Derbyshire the nights were still chilly, and the buds had only begun to sprout after Elizabeth’s arrival. It had been pleasant, but it was on that day that Elizabeth began to truly see the much sought-after signs of spring.

  Olivia seemed to be in fine spirits that morning, and Elizabeth found herself caught up in her cousin’s enthusiasm, even if the worry about her aunt was still present. And that night the conversation turned to the subject for which Olivia, at the very least, had been waiting.

  “The assembly is to be held on Tuesday week. I suppose you exist in a state of keen anticipation.”

  Olivia, to whom her father’s words had been directed, returned his smile, though she attempted a demure calmness. “Indeed, I am, Papa. It will be my first assembly, after all.”

  “Indeed, it will. It will be your first taste of local society.”

  “Shall you be the belle of the ball?” asked Edward, his tone teasing. “Shall you dance all night until dawn? Or perhaps you will instead leave at midnight with the prince chasing after you.”

  “Edward,” said Olivia in a warning tone, but Edward only grinned at her, completely unrepentant.

  “I shall merely emulate Lizzy,” replied she with airy unconcern. “Then I shall be certain to make a good impression on our neighbors.”

  The soft snort which proceeded forth from the lips of Aunt Claire did not escape anyone’s attention, but Elizabeth ignored the woman. Her uncle shot her a glance and said:

  “Excellent idea, my dear. I am certain your cousin will not lead you astray.”

  “Perhaps I shall stay at home with the younger children,” said Aunt Claire.

  “They will be very well with Marie and Betty,” said Mr. Drummond of their two maids. “This is Olivia’s first assembly. It would not do for you to be absent.”

  The admonishment was spoken in such a way as to refuse any possibility of disagreement, and her aunt subsided, though with evident ill grace. Elizabeth considered her aunt. It was clear she was not happy in her life, and she made no attempt to assume even the veneer of complacency. Her aunt’s discussion with her uncle gave some tantalizing hints of the woman’s character and the reasons for her disillusionment, but the truth of the matter was still out of reach.

  It was the day after their discussion regarding the upcoming assembly that the promised note arrived from Georgiana, inviting Elizabeth and Olivia to Pemberley for the afternoon. Given Mrs. Drummond’s seeming intent to deny her daughter and niece any ability for activities which might have brought them pleasure, Elizabeth would have thought the woman would protest their going, but instead she only shook her he
ad and allowed her husband to approve of the outing without comment.

  At the appointed time, a carriage pulled in front of Kingsdown, and a liveried footman descended to open the door for them. Olivia gazed at the carriage with awe, and Elizabeth was forced to concede how impressed she was by its elegance. Even Mr. Bingley, whose fortune was greater than her father’s, had not possessed a conveyance to match what she saw before her.

  “Enjoy yourselves, girls,” said Mr. Drummond.

  “Thank you, Papa,” said Olivia, throwing her arms impulsively around her father’s neck. “Miss Darcy is so kind. I am sure we shall become great friends.”

  “I know you will.” Then he helped them both in the carriage and took up his youngest daughter in his arms, comforting her and drying her tears with loving care. Leah had protested her own desire to accompany them, but Mr. Drummond had promised her part of his time that afternoon to make up for her inability to go.

  Then the carriage lurched into motion and the estate faded away behind them. The outward beauty of the vehicle was further supported by the comfort of the seats and the smoothness of the ride. It was the most relaxing experience Elizabeth had ever had in a coach.

  “Now, I seem to remember your informing me that you have never visited Pemberley?” said Elizabeth, turning to her cousin.

  “I have not. Papa has told me that it is a beautiful place, but I have never been there myself.”

  “Then I am happy that we are to see it today.” Elizabeth smiled. “I do not know if you are aware of it, by my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, who is my uncle’s wife, is from Lambton, and she has seen the estate herself many times. She declares it the finest she has ever seen.”

  “I have heard my father speak of your aunt. But I was very small when she left Lambton for London, and I do not know her.”

  “I hope you will have occasion to meet her someday,” said Elizabeth. “Aunt Gardiner is a wonderful woman, and I am excessively fond of her.”

  The girls passed the carriage ride in this attitude, alternating playful conversation with watching the scenery as it rolled by. The road to Pemberley was well-maintained, and had obviously been travelled extensively. The woods to either side often crowded in about the road, making it seem like they were winding through a narrow maze, rather than a country road.