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“Gowan Darcy threw himself into the project. He was able to engage Inigo Jones himself to design a house that would complement the landscape and by spring the workers had begun building the structure you see today. They salvaged much of the stone from the flooded ruin but left the foundation walls to form this sunken garden. To prevent a repeat of the flood, they enlarged the lake and raised the knoll for the new structure.”

Elizabeth and the Gardiners looked around at the park surrounding Pemberley House with new eyes.

The landscaping had been done with such attention to its context that the lake and its surroundings looked perfectly natural and the house, though large, seemed to balance with the surrounding peaks and woods rather than command them.

“Your ancestor did very well, indeed,” murmured Elizabeth and the others added their compliments.

Though usually uncomfortable when people praised his estate, Darcy felt an unaccustomed warmth at their words.

Where so many would have waxed lyrical over the mansion because of the wealth it represented, Elizabeth and her family did not truckle to him with empty tributes.

They truly understood the sentiment he felt for the house and the land; a physical manifestation of his heritage that was as much a part of him as his eye color or height.

Clearing his voice slightly to loosen his throat, Fitzwilliam focused on bringing the tale to its conclusion.

“Being on site, Gowan Darcy was able to move along the construction much more efficiently than his father and the main building was completed within three years. He then promptly married a local girl, Miss Margaret Manners of Haddon Hall, and they settled at Pemberley and proceeded to make the house into a home. It is said to have been a great love match— they eloped from her elder sister’s wedding breakfast when she was eighteen.

Her father disapproved of Gowan Darcy because he was ‘rich in land but poor in everything else’ and his parents disagreed with the Manners’ politics. ”

Will chuckled— his grandmother had loved the story of Meg and Gowan Darcy and had told it often. “Naturally, the couple lived a long, blissfully happy life together and raised their eight children at Pemberley, rarely venturing beyond Derbyshire. ”

He turned to Elizabeth who was listening intently. “Tomorrow I hope to take you on a tour of the gallery; their portrait is one of my favorites. I would go to look at it often as a child; in the midst of all those severe paintings of my grim ancestors, they always seemed so content.”

Elizabeth murmured her agreement and took his arm as the party turned and began to walk slowly back to the house. Mr. Darcy’s story had affected her deeply; she felt as if she had been given a precious gift and was beginning to realize that to be Mistress of Pemberley would be something, indeed.

Mr. Darcy had said little about his parents as a couple.

His memories of his mother seemed to be those of an adoring child and what little was said about his father seemed laden with a sort of distant reverence; a barely concealed desire for approval that was rarely given.

The vision of young Fitzwilliam Darcy contemplating that old painting and imagining warm and loving parents made her wish to hug him.

It was little wonder that he had reacted so oddly to her big, bustling family

Elizabeth’s thoughts returned to the present when her aunt reminded their host that the morrow would be Sunday.

After some discussion, they settled on a plan to attend services at the Lambton church and Darcy offered to send a note to Mr. Jessop, inviting the rector to dinner.

Mrs. Gardiner was very pleased, for though she wished to know what had happened to the people from her childhood, she hoped that the cleric would help her reconnect without devolving into unpleasant gossip.

Elizabeth listened quietly but eventually Mrs. Gardiner turned to eye her niece knowingly.

“Lizzy, you must not feel required to attend us on every visit. I plan to do a great deal of reminiscing that will quickly become dull to anyone who did not share my childhood. I know that Edward plans to take the children fishing and I hope that you shall be able to find something to occupy your time, as well.” The twinkle in her eyes left Elizabeth suspicious that her aunt was turning matchmaker.

“Well, dear aunt, if you do not desire my company then I suppose I might be able to find a path or two interesting enough to explore.” Her smirk belied her airy tone and the others laughed, well aware that the second Miss Bennet was already itching to walk the woods and peaks that she had seen from the carriage.

“And I have heard from an excellent source that Pemberley’s library is among the finest in the land, for its owner is always buying books. ”

Darcy rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Miss Bingley has visited the estate only once, for less than a week, and spent but an instant in the library when Mrs. Reynolds gave them a tour.”

“Ah, well. At least she is cognizant of its value, even if her estimation is based on a volume’s purchase price rather than its content,” said Elizabeth gaily.

She was well pleased with her witticism when a happy giggle bubbled up from Miss Darcy.

Georgiana was so pleased with the company that she was beginning to feel light-headed.

After checking their watches, it was agreed that the Darcys would take their guests on a brief tour of the first floor, ending with the library (the ground floor being dedicated to the kitchens and servants’ quarters) before they all retired to dress for dinner.

Fitzwilliam guided them from the central courtyard into the north wing of the U-shaped building.

He looked slightly taken aback when Georgiana commented that a proper tour should begin from the main entrance rather than a back door, but the Gardiners soon reassured him that they were perfectly pleased with his approach.

A footman was waiting to let them in by a set of massive double doors; Darcy led them into a grand ballroom with windows along three walls, many opening out onto the terrace beyond.

Once the Gardiners and their niece had expressed their admiration, he spoke softly.

“I remember when I was a child, our parents hosted some grand balls here. I would watch from the windows of the schoolroom,” he gestured toward an upper floor on the opposite wing.

“The courtyard was lit with torches and those who were not dancing would spill outside to drink and talk in the moonlight. It was a magnificent sight.”

Darcy took note of his sister listening to him wistfully and reprimanded himself for not having shared more memories of their family in happier times.

When the guests were satisfied, Fitzwilliam guided the party down several halls, pointing out a large formal dining room, the blue parlor, and the billiards room, among others, and eventually finding themselves back in the front foyer with its grand double staircase wrapping around above them.

Elizabeth laughed, her face full of admiration for the graceful lines of Pemberley’s entrance hall. “This, I remember! I was beginning to think that I’d need a ball of string in order to find my way around!”

Darcy raised his eyebrows and responded, “And do you fear finding the Minotaur roaming our halls at night?”

This quip prompted much laughter, though when Fitzwilliam led them off to explore the south wing, Elizabeth took his arm and squeezed it reassuringly.

Though he had been jesting, it was still nice to know that she did not consider him to be anything like a half-man, half-bull creature searching out innocents to maul.

Walking through the south wing, Darcy showed them his study (the desk piled with ledgers and correspondence waiting to be dealt with), the mistress’ study (currently unused), the rose sitting room (where they had taken tea), and the music room (Georgiana’s favorite).

After Miss Darcy had received many compliments on the new pianoforte that her brother had given her for her birthday, Fitzwilliam guided them to a final door and opened it with a flourish.

“Miss Bennet, allow me to present… our library.”

Elizabeth preceded him into a room of equivalent size to Pemberley’s ballroom, but with tall oak bookshelves arrayed around the room like a well-ordered regiment of soldiers.

“Oh!” she breathed. With all her concentration on the literary riches before her, Lizzy did not notice her host beaming. Her simple, unaffected enthusiasm was just what he had yearned for.

Barely hearing the keen comments from the Gardiners, Thomas Bennet’s daughter walked slowly past the walls of books, running her fingertips along their spines even as her head swiveled from side to side, trying to take it all in.

Several comfortable chairs were hidden in nooks created by the arrangement of the shelves and elsewhere there were convenient tables if one wished to spread out large monographs or examine a set of maps.

At the end of the room, Elizabeth found nirvana. A large fireplace faced with the native golden limestone was surrounded by comfortable leather settees. Several rather battered cushions and piles of books on the low table made it clear that the area was used often.

Hearing footsteps, Lizzy turned and was unsurprised to see that Darcy had followed her. Smiling up at him, she said softly, “I suspect that if we ever need to find you, this is the first place we should look.”

Will returned her smile. “Perhaps you as well?”

In an easy camaraderie, he showed her how the library was organized and pointed out several books that he thought she might particularly enjoy. Lizzy restrained herself to a new volume of Dorothy Wordsworth’s poetry and a copy of Hawkins’ 1760 edition of the Compleat Angler.