Page 12 of More Than You Know (The Love Conquers Pride #3)

Chapter Eleven

A s it transpired, Pemberley’s houseguests did not arrive until the following day. The decision had been made for the entire party to travel together to Derbyshire. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were obligated to stop at Longbourn, both to collect their two nieces and to deposit their four young children, who would remain in the Bennets’ care. Mr Bingley had chosen to send his coach and team of horses ahead so that he might travel with the rest of the party, and thus it was arranged that they would change conveyances each time they stopped. To everyone’s satisfaction, the weather remained fair and the roads in good condition—despite Mr Darcy’s dire warnings—and their journey progressed with much good cheer and agreeable conversation.

On the day they were to reach Pemberley, Elizabeth sat near the window on the forward-facing seat, watching for the first appearance of the manor house with some perturbation. The park, as it turned out, was very large and contained a great variety of ground. They entered it at one of its lowest points and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent.

Mr Bingley pointed out various landmarks as they went, and even though Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view.

At last, they found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and all eyes were instantly drawn to Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of the valley. Elizabeth noted that it was a large, handsome stone building, backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance ran—reminding her of the little Yorkshire river where she had first encountered Mr Darcy.

Inside the carriage, the Bennets and Gardiners were all enthusiastic in their admiration, and Mr Bingley, who had stayed at the house several times, assured them that they would find the manor warm and welcoming despite its proportions.

They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door, all while Mrs Gardiner indulged in reminiscences about visiting the park as a child, and Mr Bingley continued to regale them with descriptions of some of the principal rooms. However, Elizabeth could scarcely attend to the lively discussion, as all the apprehension she had attempted to stifle immediately leapt to the forefront of her mind. She was quietly thankful that Jane, with her usual poise, had the presence of mind to keep Mr Bingley’s attention engaged, as she had done so effortlessly throughout their journey.

In due course, the carriage drew to a halt, and before their groom could so much as step down to open the door, several liveried footmen appeared, followed by a senior member of the household whom Elizabeth assumed to be the butler—and there, close at that gentleman’s heels, came Mr Darcy himself!

Elizabeth cast an anxious glance at her sister as their uncle descended the carriage steps, met by a deep bow from their host.

“Mr Gardiner, I presume?” Mr Darcy offered in his deep baritone, and their uncle dipped his chin in reply.

“Mr Darcy—a pleasure, sir! I know we have exchanged letters, but I must thank you once again for your hospitality. Not every gentleman would open his home to near strangers in this way, and at such a time of year, no less! You have my gratitude.”

“It is my honour, sir. Bingley is a friend of long duration, and I know the Bennets have made him feel very welcome in Hertfordshire. It was the least I could do, on his behalf.”

By this point, Mr Bingley had also left the coach, and the two friends clasped hands before Mr Gardiner turned back to assist the ladies.

Mr Darcy received each one of them in turn, offering quiet civilities as a stream of servants came forwards to discreetly unload the luggage.

Amidst their party’s cheerful chatter, their host led the way into a vast entrance hall where the butler and two footmen were on hand to divest the visitors of their greatcoats and pelisses. Once this was accomplished, they were ushered into a nearby drawing room, where Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised to find Colonel Fitzwilliam sitting beside a young girl who could only be Mr Darcy’s sister. Introductions commenced, and soon they were all seated around the comfortable parlour, which Elizabeth noted was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine.

Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth, but her appearance was womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. Although she spoke little, Elizabeth could easily discern that it was due to embarrassment and an innate reserve rather than any sort of vanity or pride.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was as cordial and agreeable as Elizabeth had ever known him to be. He enquired after the rest of her family and looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease as he had always done.

For his part, Mr Darcy was more civil and free from self-consequence than Elizabeth had previously observed in Hertfordshire, and she began to catch glimpses of the gentleman she remembered from their first meeting.

When tea arrived, Miss Darcy stepped up to pour, and though clearly eager to please, she approached the task with obvious trepidation. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr Darcy was instantly at her side, speaking to her in gentle tones and passing around the teacups as his sister performed her duties.

After half an hour of pleasant conversation, Mr Darcy rang the bell, and the housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds, arrived to show them to their chambers. Mr Bingley, who had visited the house recently and knew the location of his rooms, chose to stay behind to converse with his hosts, but the Bennet ladies along with their aunt and uncle proceeded out the way they had come.

As they moved through the hall and then ascended the great staircase, Elizabeth saw with delight that while the rooms they glimpsed all appeared to be well proportioned and handsomely furnished, like the drawing room, they spoke less of splendour and more of real elegance, rendering the ambience hospitable and inviting.

Elizabeth, while usually of a cheerful and communicative disposition, found herself too overcome to speak. However, Mr Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, had no trouble engaging the housekeeper in conversation as they walked.

“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?” he enquired, and Mrs Reynolds smiled back at him with genuine civility.

“Oh yes, sir. He is quite attached to the place and rarely leaves. Miss Darcy is always down for a fortnight during the summer months, though her primary residence is in London. She is to make her curtsey in the spring, so, of late, she has been spending much of her time with her aunt, who will present her at court.”

“She seems very young,” Elizabeth ventured, at last finding her voice.

Mrs Reynolds nodded her agreement. “She is just sixteen, ma’am, though many might take her for older with her tall stature and pleasing figure. And she is so accomplished! She plays and sings all day long. She will do the master proud and make a fine match, I am sure of it.”

Mrs Gardiner smiled. “I imagine it will be difficult for her brother to see her go. He seems deeply devoted to her.”

“Oh, indeed, ma’am,” Mrs Reynolds readily affirmed. “Whatever can give Miss Darcy any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. He is as fine a brother as one could wish.”

Elizabeth briefly caught her sister’s eye, silently acknowledging the housekeeper’s words. Whatever else could be said of Mr Darcy, his devotion to his sister appeared to be beyond reproach.

Mrs Reynolds, either out of pride or genuine attachment, seemed to take immense pleasure in speaking of her master and his sister. She continued with enthusiasm, “Though I do not know that it will be Miss Darcy who goes away. My master has always maintained that he hopes she will make Pemberley her home, even after she weds.”

“Has Mr Darcy plans to travel, then?” Mr Gardiner asked as they reached the spacious lobby at the top of the stairs.

Mrs Reynolds’ smile faltered briefly, though her tone remained composed. “He has often said as much, sir. At least, that is what I have been made to understand. Once the young miss marries, it is his intention to leave Pemberley. Where he is to go, I cannot say—but a dark day it will be for us all when that time comes.”

She paused then, as if realizing she had said too much. Her expression turned cautious, and when she resumed speaking, her manner was deferential once more.

“Ah, here we are,” she announced, gesturing towards an open door. “This way, ladies, if you please.”

Elizabeth and Jane were shown into a very pretty sitting room with doors leading to private bed chambers on either side, while their aunt and uncle were taken to a similar apartment farther along the corridor.

Thanks to the efficiency of Mr Darcy’s footmen, their trunks had already been delivered, and moments after entering, a young housemaid appeared to assist with the unpacking. Mrs Reynolds informed them that dinner would be served at five o’clock, allowing the sisters ample time to rest, bathe, and dress for the evening.

At the appointed hour, they met the Gardiners at the top of the grand staircase. A footman waited there to escort them to the drawing room, where the rest of the party had already assembled.

It was not until they proceeded into the dining parlour and took their places around the long, polished mahogany table that Elizabeth noticed that someone she had expected to see was conspicuously absent. Turning to their host, she enquired, “Is Mr Walsh not joining us this evening, sir? I recall you mentioning he would be with you at Pemberley for the festive season.”

“Ah, no. That is, yes, I had expected it to be so, but he informed me some days ago that he would travel to his relations in Bedfordshire this year,” Mr Darcy replied gravely.

“Oh, I see. Well, we shall miss his society, though I am happy he can be with his family at such a time.”

Mr Darcy’s response was little more than a thoughtful frown, but Colonel Fitzwilliam interjected cheerfully, “Hopefully the pleasure of my company makes up for the lack of his.”

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “It was indeed a pleasant surprise to find you here, sir. Do you stay at Pemberley for long?”

“Alas, no,” the colonel replied with a good-humoured smile, nodding to a footman, who stepped forwards to fill his glass. “I am to return to Matlock for Christmas, but I could not resist the temptation of enjoying such delightful company once more before I go.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the first course, which boasted nearly a dozen fine dishes: two soups, platters of pike and trout, and an impressive array of meats, all roasted to perfection.

Bowls were passed, roasts were expertly carved, and wine flowed freely as the conversation meandered comfortably among the diners. Mr Darcy—who seemed far more relaxed in his own home—spoke easily with Mrs Gardiner of her time in Lambton, while Mr Gardiner chatted amiably with Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Miss Darcy, at first, said little, content to focus on her dinner while listening with wide-eyed interest to the conversations unfolding around her. However, it was not long before Elizabeth and Jane began to draw her out, gently enquiring after her favourite books and music. Although Elizabeth seldom allowed her gaze to drift towards Mr Darcy, seated farther down the table, whenever she did, she noted his watchful expression. Though whether his gaze was on her or he was merely observing how his sister got on, she could not say.

It was during the first remove that talk shifted to their stay at Pemberley, with Mr Darcy enquiring politely about Mrs Gardiner’s brother and when they might expect his arrival.

“I believe on Monday next, sir,” Elizabeth’s aunt replied. “He has not far to travel, and as his practice does not permit him to be absent long, he will only trespass on your hospitality for a few days.”

Mr Darcy nodded in reply. “He is most welcome here. And you are all at liberty to remain at Pemberley for as long as you wish.”

From across the table, Elizabeth caught Colonel Fitzwilliam attempting to stifle an amused smile, but before she could interpret his response, Mr Darcy turned his attention to Mr Bingley.

“And what of you, Bingley? Of course, your presence is no imposition, but Leeds is a good fifty miles away—a full day’s travel, even with favourable conditions.”

Setting down his glass of wine, Mr Bingley chuckled. “Do not trouble yourself on my account, old man. My horses are sure-footed, and my aunt does not expect me until Christmas Eve. Besides,” he added with a boyish grin, “I have been most eager to accompany Elizabeth and her relations on their tour of the area.”

At his casual use of her Christian name, Elizabeth felt the unmistakable prickling of a flush creeping up her neck, and she could not help furtively looking around the table to see what anyone else had made of it. Her aunt and uncle exchanged a glance—though whether it was merely curious or disapproving, she could not discern—and Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared slightly taken aback.

It was Mr Darcy’s black expression, however, that caused her gaze to drop instantly to her plate.

When at length the last bites of stewed fruits and spiced cakes had been consumed, Mr Darcy offered his sister a subtle nod, and she stood with some diffidence, leading the ladies into a small salon. Miss Darcy rang the bell, and before long refreshments were brought through. Mrs Gardiner began by asking the young girl about some of the people and places she remembered from the neighbourhood, and conversation flowed easily until the gentlemen joined them about a quarter of an hour later.

“So, how have you all fared since we were last in Hertfordshire?” Colonel Fitzwilliam enquired once they were all seated and coffee and tea had been poured.

Mr Bingley was quick to respond, eagerly recounting the latest developments at Netherfield and inundating Mr Darcy with a torrent of questions. Once this topic had been canvassed to Mr Bingley’s satisfaction, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned his attention to Elizabeth and Jane.

“And what news from Longbourn? I trust you and your sisters have been in good health and spirits?”

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Oh, we have been excessively diverted, to be sure,” she replied, exchanging a knowing glance with her sister. “I do not believe we mentioned it, but while you were all at Netherfield, my father received a letter from a cousin, who was unknown to us—a clergyman, lately of Hunsford, in Kent, where he has the living of the local parish. By his proposal, the gentleman came to stay with us for nearly a fortnight in mid-November.”

“Hunsford?” the colonel exclaimed. “Why, that is our aunt’s parish! How extraordinary that your relation should be her rector! What is the gentleman’s name?”

“Mr William Collins,” Jane supplied, and Colonel Fitzwilliam instantly turned to his cousin. “Darcy, have you made this Collins’s acquaintance?”

Setting his cup down on the nearby table, Mr Darcy frowned in consideration. “I think I have, as it happens. When I last visited my aunt, she was entertaining some of the local gentry when I arrived. I believe her clergyman was among the company.”

At this unexpected revelation, Elizabeth blinked in amazement. Although her cousin had spoken of his esteemed patroness many times during his visit, the fact that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was aunt to both Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam was astonishing indeed.

“You were not pleased by your cousin’s visit?” the colonel enquired, interrupting her thoughts.

“Oh, I would not say that exactly,” Elizabeth answered with a small smile. “We were certainly entertained. My father, I know, enjoyed the gentleman’s company a great deal, as he delights in the ridiculous.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam barked a laugh. “That bad, was it?”

Elizabeth returned his grin. “Let us just say that my cousin is not a sensible man, sir. His every word and action seem dictated by his desire to curry favour, with little regard for propriety or merit. He is, I regret, a man whose conversation and conduct scarcely command respect, however much he strives to secure it.”

“And you say you had never met the gentleman before? How came he to visit you now?”

“According to the gentleman himself,” Elizabeth answered, “the purpose of his visit was to extend an olive branch, of sorts, which I believe was to come in the form of an offer of marriage.”

At the colonel’s inquisitive glance, Jane quietly explained, “My father’s estate is entailed, sir, and Mr Collins is to be the beneficiary.”

“Ah,” the gentleman replied with a nod of acknowledgement. “So he seeks to soften the blow by making one of you the future mistress of Longbourn.”

“That would, indeed, appear to be his aim,” Elizabeth agreed. “It seems that it was your aunt who encouraged the idea.”

“That, I can readily imagine,” the colonel said with a glimmer of amusement. “And tell me, was he successful in his quest?”

Elizabeth lifted her teacup, using it to shield her face as her skin prickled with the heat of embarrassment. What could she have been thinking to have raised such a topic of conversation? Surely it was evident that she could not be Mr Collins’s object as she was all but spoken for by Mr Bingley, who sat not three feet away. This left Jane, as the eldest daughter, the natural choice to become her cousin’s wife—though Elizabeth could scarcely imagine a more unfortunate fate for her beloved sister.

Stealing a glance at Jane, she felt a pang of guilt to see her staring resolutely at her lap, her fingers twisting nervously at the muslin of her gown. Elizabeth also noted that Mr Bingley had gone uncharacteristically still, his complexion pale, his lips pressed together in a tight line.

Cursing her carelessness, Elizabeth inhaled sharply, steadying her breath before responding with forced levity. “Not as yet, sir, though I believe he intends to return in the new year.”

To her chagrin, her aunt joined the conversation. “I still think you are too severe upon your cousin, Lizzy. It is to his credit that he wishes to make amends to your family in such a way.”

“Indeed,” agreed her uncle. “I know he has risen in my sister’s estimation since his visit.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Perhaps Mary might be persuaded to look favourably upon the gentleman. She has ever been a practical, steady sort of girl, fond of moral reflections. They might do very well together.”

To this, Elizabeth merely murmured her assent, and to her relief, the conversation soon turned to other topics.