Page 61

Elizabeth felt strangely unsettled. She had slept poorly the night before, waking at hourly intervals with her thoughts focused on Mr. Darcy.

The master of Pemberley was indeed handsome, intelligent and honorable. She had disdained him when first they metthanks to Mr. Darcy’s unfortunate insult at the assembly the day they met. Then Mr. Wickham, vile Mr. Wickham, had poured his verbal poison into her regrettably willing ear.

Elizabeth knew better now. She knew that Mr. Darcy was all that was admirable. She was also, she realized, being something of a coward. She, Elizabeth Bennet, who prided herself on her courage rising with every attempt to intimidate her, had been frightened and awed by Pemberley’s glories.

Well, no more. She did not believe that Mr. Darcy was in love with her; even less did she believe he would make her an offer. But he was a good man, the kind of man she was honored to call friend.

“How did this estate come into Darcy possession, sir?” she asked aloud, gazing steadily (she hoped not boldly) at the gentleman in question. They were traveling to Bastow today so that Charlotte and Mr. Collins could inspect the parsonage they would soon make their home.

He was seated across from her in the carriage, his garments neat but restrained, his dark hair unruffled. Next to him was Mr. Collins and beside Elizabeth was Mary, who in turn sat next to Charlotte Lucas.

“My father acquired it some twenty years before his death,” Darcy explained. “The former owner of the Bastow estate had mounting debts which resulted in the threat of foreclosure. My father purchased it as both a favor and because Bastow’s lands have sufficiently different soil that we are able to grow apples and pears.”

“That is very wise,” Mr. Collins declared approvingly. “It is always sensible to diversify one’s investments.”

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Collins with fondness; her cousin would never be a handsome man with his rather plain face and portly body, but his expression was now alert and intelligent instead of cringing, and his figure had improved in the last months. In addition to spending long hours devouring books in the library, he often went for vigorous walks through Pemberley lands.

“The country here is so wild,” Mary mused, her eyes on the moving scenery. “I love the crags of Derbyshire. The country is so much wilder than Hertfordshire, but it is beautiful.”

Elizabeth glanced at her sister in some surprise. Mary had always been devoted to books more than nature and had never shown much interest in the glories of the outdoors. On the other hand, it was true that the passing views were incredible. The hills in this region of Derbyshire were decorated with tall trees with patches of tall grasses interspersed between the copses.

“I love all of our fair country of England,” Darcy replied with a smile lighting up his already handsome face, “but Derbyshire will always be my favorite. It will always be home.”

“I believe this is the parsonage coming up,” Charlotte Lucas commented. She had been largely silent during their two hour journey to Bastow, but her face was glowing with joy. Elizabeth had rarely seen her in such good looks.

“Indeed it is,” Darcy agreed. “I believe I mentioned this to Mr. Collins and Miss Lucas, but I should warn you as well, Miss Bennet and Miss Mary. The current vicar, Mr. Colborne, is elderly and has been struggling with some confusion of late. I believe it would be best if the steward of Bastow, Mr. Martyn, introduced Mr. Collins and Miss Lucas to Mr. Colborne while the rest of us remain outside for a least a short time. He would likely become distressed if too many unknown individuals come inside.”

“That sounds very sensible,” Elizabeth agreed, with Mary murmuring her assent.

The carriage came to a halt, and Mr. Darcy opened the carriage and climbed out. He helped Elizabeth and Mary onto the graveled walk in front of the parsonage. Mr. Collins also climbed out and gazed around with curiosity, only to be called gently to order by Charlotte, who smilingly extended her hand so that her fiancé would remember his duty toward her.

The clergyman nodded fondly as he helped her out, “Thank you, Miss Lucas. I need such reminders.”

“I know, Mr. Collins.”

“Mr. Darcy!”

The man approaching them was but five and twenty years of age, tall, with very bright red hair. He could not possibly be the aging clergyman, and thus Elizabeth assumed he was the young steward of Bastow.

This turned out to be correct, but in the midst of the introductions and bows and curtsies, Elizabeth was astonished to discover that her sister Mary was blushing furiously.

How very odd.

***

“How far does the glebe extend?” Elizabeth asked.

She, Mary and Mr. Darcy had walked behind the parsonage to allow Charlotte and Mr. Collins to meet with the aging rector.

“It is larger than is common,” Darcy replied. “It extends to the tree line to the north and to the fences to the east and west. I think Mr. Collins and Miss Lucas will, after their marriage,be well pleased with the possibilities here. I am concerned about the vicarage itself. Mr. Colborne has been somewhat reclusive these last years and reluctant to allow Mr. Martyn to inspect the building. I see signs of dry rot on these boards here. I will speak to Mr. Martyn to ensure that the parsonage is fullychecked so any necessary repairs can be done.”

“That is very good of you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said sincerely.

He looked slightly uncomfortable, “It is my duty.”

Elizabeth quickly glanced around and saw that Mary had wandered out of earshot of quiet voices, though she was still in view.

“If I may, sir, there are many gentlemen who do not take appropriate responsibility for their duties. You are a very diligent and generous landlord and master. If it were not for the fact that you dislike dancing so much, I daresay you would be quite perfect.”

Her two sentences made him look increasingly uneasy but the last comment made him smile a little.

“I do not mind dancing with those I know well. Indeed, I hope that some day soon I can dance with you, Miss Bennet.”

This provoked a startled blush in the lady, and for a moment the man and the woman gazed into one another’s eyes, both aware of the spark of attraction between them.

“I assume Mr. Colborne has not grown anything in this garden for several years,” Mary stated, breaking the spell and causing Darcy and Elizabeth to draw back from one another with embarrassment.

“Er, no, no,” the gentleman agreed. “No, I fear he has been deteriorating for some time and quite unable to manage gardening, nor was he interested in hiring a man for that task. It is regrettable he was not willing to retire earlier, but then again perhaps it was God’s gift to us all that the living is currently available. I will relish having Mr. Collins and his family within easy distance of Pemberley.”

“Mr. Martyn!” Mary suddenly cried out as the tall steward stepped out of the back door of the parsonage with Mr. Collins and Charlotte Lucas at his heels.

“Miss Mary!” the man replied enthusiastically. “What think you of Bastow?”

And Mary, staid Mary, who had disdained her younger sisters’ foolish infatuation of red coated officers, who prided herself on her calm approach to love and romance, felt her heart beating so hard that her chest felt like it might burst.

“I like Bastow very well,” she responded, gazing up into the man’s face. “I like it very well indeed.”