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“Oh, ‘tis beautiful, sir. I’ve never seen a place where nature has done so much and man has allowed the natural beauty of the landscape to compliment his structures.” She paused, momentarily discomfited that he might think her enthusiasm mercenary.

“Truly, I like it very well, indeed,” she finished weakly.

Darcy beamed, love for his family’s legacy shining in his eyes. “I’m glad.” He paused, searching for something to say that would not be too forward. “When I met you at the stables, were you coming back from a walk?”

Elizabeth’s smile returned. “You understand me very well, sir. Having caught a glimpse of your beautiful woods, I could not remain inside for long. Jonathan and Tommy were wild to get outdoors after so long in the carriage and I was happy to offer my services as companion.”

They spoke companionably for several minutes about the woods, the various paths around the park, and Pemberley’s gardens until Georgiana called for their attention and they rejoined the group.

Once they were all seated with their tea, Elizabeth made some small compliment on the room.

Darcy looked around for the first time, his attention having previously been focused on its occupants.

“I cannot remember the last time I was in here.” His eyes caught signs of disuse; some of the old wallpaper was peeling in a corner and there was a bit of water damage in the plaster ceiling above.

Though the room was clean and neat, the furniture was outdated and there was a general feeling of desuetude.

“This was my mother’s favorite sitting room. ”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “Yes, I asked if we might see it; I remember Lady Anne redecorating it just after she was married. Old Mrs. Darcy had moved into the Dower House and insisted that the new mistress put her own mark on the manor, as she termed it.”

The two Darcy siblings looked around at the room with new eyes. “It is very like Mother’s private rooms,” commented Will softly.

Madeleine smiled kindly. “She adored the new floral patterns coming from Paris—big pink cabbage roses, violets and ivy, and so forth. I can remember coming with Mama to visit her; Mrs. Darcy would have those tables littered with swatches of fabrics and patterns, trying to match and choose.” Her eyes twinkled at the memory.

“She had a very different style to your grandmother; Lady Edna always leaned toward simpler fashion.”

Fitzwilliam smiled. “Grandmother was always very practical.”

Mrs. Gardiner laughed aloud. “I remember once early on, your mother wished to change a room but was worried that her new mother-in-law might be offended. Old Mrs. Darcy just laughed and told her to change whatever she wished; it was a relief that her son had married a woman who enjoyed such things because she herself did not!”

“Yet the Dower House is decorated much as you describe—simple yet elegant, with brighter colors than… this…” Will waved his hand around at the contrast between what he described to the pastels and florals that saturated his mother’s room.

Madeleine smiled. “Yes, well… I suspect that Lady Edna was quite set in her own tastes but she was a wise woman and understood that a new wife must be encouraged.”

Darcy barely kept himself from looking toward Elizabeth.

Luckily, Mr. Gardiner made a comment about the architecture of the house that turned the conversation to its history.

Seeing that his guests had finished their tea, Fitzwilliam invited them to view the house from the outside so that he might better explain the history of the various additions.

This proposal was quickly agreed upon and the remainder of the afternoon was spent outdoors, joined by the Gardiner children who had taken tea in the schoolroom with their nurse and a coterie of Pemberley maids.

As they wandered around the perimeter of the house and the nearest gardens, Darcy pointed out particular features.

“The land was originally granted to John d’Arcy in 1071 for his aid to William the Conqueror against the Fenland rebels.

D’Arcy married Kate of Hartwick but spent most of his time with the troops in support of William, first on the continent and then later in Scotland, leaving his wife with an enormous tract of land but little more than a hut in which to live.

Family legend says that young Mrs. d’Arcy oversaw the design and building of the first Pemberley House—you can still see the stone ruins up on the hill there.

Her husband returned after several years, just in time to settle in at the new manor house, father a son, and promptly die.

Kate never remarried; she raised her son by herself and kept his inheritance intact until he came of age…

no small achievement for a widow in that day and age. ”

The party agreed that they would explore the ruins at some point during their visit.

A question from Mr. Gardiner returned the conversation to the current Pemberley House.

By then, they had wandered to the side of a sunken garden and could look back at the Palladian structure, limestone glowing in the late afternoon sunlight.

Darcy gestured to the stone walls of a sunken garden.

“This was the site of the second Pemberley House—those walls formed the foundation. In 1605, Grant Darcy married a wealthy Scotswoman that he met in Paris. According to family legend, when she first saw Pemberley, she was shocked by the ramshackle manor house, bare of all but the most basic of amenities. She flatly refused to live there and the only way her new husband could convince her not to return to her father in Edinburgh was by offering to build an entirely new, more modern house.”

The group laughed, particularly when Mr. Gardiner raised his hand to his brow theatrically. “Ah, the things we husbands do to keep our wives happy!”

Madeleine arched her brows in mock outrage and responded tartly, “If you were the one seeing to the cooking and cleaning, you would be eager for modern facilities as well!”

After some further banter, Darcy continued his story.

“Unfortunately, neither ever lived in the new house. The couple were both more interested in society and politics than farming so the family split their time between London and Edinburgh— years went by before an architect was even hired. Apparently their son, Gowan Darcy, didn’t see his birthright until he was fourteen years old and he accompanied his father on a visit to confer with the architect and check on the construction.

Supposedly Gowan fell in love with the land at first sight and begged his father to let him stay, even if he had to camp in the woods and forage for food. ”

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “I can easily understand his sentiment, especially if he had been raised in the city.”

“Indeed,” Darcy grinned back. “Unfortunately, his father did not share our enthusiasm and young Gowan was promptly sent back to school. However, as soon as he finished he returned to Derbyshire and took up residence in the old manor house. He began overseeing the estate and even introduced some new breeds of sheep that greatly increased its revenue.”

Fitzwilliam looked out across the hills and woods, eyes shielded from the low sun by his hand.

It was difficult to explain how this land pulled at him when he was away, but telling the history of his ancestors was the closest he could come to sharing it.

He looked at Elizabeth and her bright eyes and intent expression told him that she understood.

“Although Mr. Darcy the elder had never spent much time in Derbyshire himself, he had made all the decisions as to site and architectural design for the new house. He was particularly enamored by the intricate Gothic styles that were so popular in France and Italy during his youth.” Seeing that Mr. Gardiner looked particularly intrigued, Fitzwilliam offered, “We still have the original plans in the library if you would like to see them.” When that gentleman nodded eagerly, Pemberley’s current master made a mental note before continuing his story.

“Gowan was not here long before he concluded that the architect’s design was wholly at odds with the landscape.

In one letter to his father, he described it as ‘like a French nobleman in all his finery, lace and heels, stranded amidst the natural wildness of the Peaks.’ He also pointed out that the new mansion was being built on the river’s floodplain. ”

Mr. Gardiner choked back his laughter while Fitzwilliam nodded sardonically.

“You may guess what happened. Mr. Darcy senior stuck stubbornly to his plans but rarely visited the place, preferring the city. The son was enamored by the more modern designs of the Italian Renaissance—Andrea Palladio, Inigo Jones and so forth. Their relations became increasingly strained. By the autumn of 1626, construction of the house was nearly complete but work was stalled by a month of heavy rains.”

Realizing what was to come, Elizabeth shut her eyes and whispered, “Oh no. ”

“Oh yes; the River Derwent topped its banks and flooded the valley.

When Grant Darcy came to view it a month later, the waters had only just receded, leaving behind a thick layer of mud everywhere.

The roof and upper portions of the building had collapsed when support beams were washed away and the cellar was filled almost to the top with muck.

“Family legend has it that within an hour of his arrival, Gowan’s father was back on his horse. They went directly to the nearest solicitor and Grant Darcy signed over the entire estate to his son, telling him, to ‘Do what you will with the place, for I never wish to set foot here again.’