Page 14 of More Than You Know (The Love Conquers Pride #3)

Chapter Thirteen

T he following day unfolded pleasantly for Pemberley’s guests. Mrs Gardiner, eager to revisit Lambton, where she still had lingering ties, led the way with enthusiasm. Her friends and relations were more than content to explore the quaint town through her fond recollections; Elizabeth, in particular, was glad for the distraction, welcoming the opportunity to set aside her thoughts of Mr Darcy for a time.

They returned to Pemberley in high spirits, pleasantly fatigued from a day spent exploring all the nearby town had to offer, arriving just in time to dress for dinner. Upon reaching the drawing room a short while later, they were greeted warmly by Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr Darcy, however, was notably absent.

When, in due course, they moved into the dining parlour, Mr Darcy finally joined them, his expression grim. After making his excuses and taking his place at the table, he then began, “Well, Miss Elizabeth, it appears that your wish for snow may soon be granted. I have just come from speaking with Atkins, my steward, as well as my gamekeeper, and both are of the opinion that severe weather is on its way. The wind has shifted to the northeast, and the air has the rawness that often precedes a storm. The barometer in my study has been falling since this morning, and there are reports from Lambton of heavy clouds gathering to the north. Atkins informs me that the last time conditions were as they are now, the roads were impassable for days.”

Across the table, Elizabeth widened her gaze. Although the idea of seeing Pemberley’s grounds blanketed in snow was undeniably thrilling, she well knew the consequences such formidable weather would bring, and she could not help but notice the flicker of unease in her relations’ expressions as they considered the news.

Mr Gardiner exchanged a glance with his wife before saying gravely, “If Mr Darcy’s information is accurate, I fear we must resign ourselves to the likelihood that Harper will not be able to join us. I hope he is forewarned of the situation and does not attempt the journey in such perilous conditions.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam frowned, leaning forwards slightly in his chair. “If the weather is indeed coming from the north, I dare say he will know of it before we do and find himself unable to travel.”

Mr Darcy nodded. “He would be wise to stay put. Atkins has already instructed the tenants to see to their livestock and lay in extra fuel. If the storm does come, I expect we shall see the signs within the next day or two.”

Turning to Mrs Gardiner, he added, “If you wish to send word to your brother, madam, I can have a rider dispatched immediately. It cannot hurt to advise him that he would do well to remain at home, so he is not taken unawares.”

Mrs Gardiner’s lips pressed together in quiet concern, though her husband laid a reassuring hand over hers. “My dear,” he said gently, “I know this is a disappointment, but Mr Darcy’s suggestion is both practical and prudent. We would not want Harper to risk his safety, and even if he attempted the journey, he might not arrive before the roads are completely blocked.”

Slowly, Mrs Gardiner nodded, releasing a sigh of resignation. “You are right, of course. I shall write to him at once. I only pray the message reaches him in time.”

She rose from the table, excusing herself to pen the letter, as Mr Darcy beckoned a footman and quietly instructed him to inform the kitchens to delay the meal. Once the arrangements were made, he turned to his cousin, who let out a resigned sigh.

“Best not to take any chances,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I shall send word to have my carriage readied first thing in the morning.”

Mr Darcy nodded, then turned to his friend with a look of quiet resignation. “Bingley, as you are bound for Leeds, you may wish to postpone your departure. If the storm travels faster than anticipated, the roads will become treacherous.”

Far from appearing inconvenienced, Mr Bingley brightened. “Do you truly think so? Because I should not at all object to a delay. In fact, I must confess, I have been enjoying my time at Pemberley with Miss Elizabeth and her relations to such an extent, I was beginning to feel rather badly about having to leave.”

Mr Darcy’s mouth tightened, though he said nothing. Elizabeth, striving for composure, replied gently, “You are very kind, Mr Bingley. We should be pleased to have your company a while longer—but I do worry your aunt will be disappointed. I know how eagerly she must be anticipating your visit.”

Mr Bingley let out a low chuckle. “Yes, of course. But I am certain she will understand, given the circumstances. I shall send an express to inform her of the change in my plans. With luck, it will reach her before the weather does.”

Elizabeth nodded, just as Jane spoke up from her place across the table. “I suppose we shall have to cancel our trip to Youlgreave as well,” she said softly, regret clear in her tone.

At Mr Darcy’s curious look, Mr Gardiner added, “An acquaintance of mine runs a stud farm near there and graciously invited us to tour the place. We were to go the day after tomorrow.”

Mr Darcy’s gaze sharpened with recognition. “A stud farm near Youlgreave? Would that happen to be Mr Wainwright’s establishment?”

“The very one,” Mr Bingley interjected before Mr Gardiner could reply. “Miss Bennet was telling me about it over dinner the other evening. Gardiner acquired her mare there during one of his prior visits to Derbyshire.”

“Indeed,” Mr Gardiner confirmed with a pleased smile. “A fine animal she is too. I have known Wainwright for many years, and when he learned we would be in the area, he insisted we come to see the farm. I was unaware you were familiar with his business, Mr Darcy.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled. “As one of the largest landowners in the county, Darcy rarely misses anything of significance happening in these parts.”

Mr Darcy inclined his head slightly, his tone measured. “Wainwright has earned a fine reputation for himself. While not yet as established as some of the breeders in Yorkshire or Newmarket, his stock is excellent. Many locals prefer to avoid travelling so far afield for quality horses, and Wainwright’s imports have already yielded impressive bloodlines. Several of the horses in my own stables come from his farm, as do some in Lord Matlock’s.”

Elizabeth noted her uncle’s visible approval, though his expression grew thoughtful as he turned to his eldest niece. “It is a pity, but I fear we must postpone the visit if the weather proves as harsh as Mr Darcy anticipates. There is no help for it.”

Just then, Mrs Gardiner returned to the dining room, and the conversation paused as Darcy called for his butler. He swiftly issued instructions to ensure an express rider was called to deliver her letter, then signalled for the dinner service to resume.

As the first course was laid before them, Mr Gardiner recounted their earlier discussion to his wife, who turned to Jane with a warm, sympathetic smile.

“I am sorry for you, dearest, as I know how much you were looking forward to the excursion, just as I was eagerly anticipating spending Christmas with my brother. But we are all at the mercy of the elements in situations such as these.”

Jane nodded her agreement, though Elizabeth’s spirits resisted such quiet acceptance. “But why must we abandon our plans altogether? Could we not go tomorrow morning, provided the day remains fair? The drive can be no more than an hour, so there should be ample time to return before the weather worsens.”

Mr Gardiner looked sceptical, but it was Mr Bingley who spoke with enthusiasm.

“I think that a splendid idea! If you are able to alter your arrangements, I would gladly accompany you. To confess the truth, I was quite put out at the thought of missing such an expedition.”

Mr Darcy continued to look grim as Elizabeth’s uncle grew more thoughtful. “I suppose that could suit us well enough, provided the weather holds. I can send a note to Mr Wainwright before we set out. I am certain he would not object to our coming a day earlier than planned.” Turning to his wife, he added, “That is, if you do not mind our going?”

Mrs Gardiner, who had not intended to join the excursion in any case, readily gave her blessing. Not particularly fond of horses, she was quite content to spend the day in Lambton with her friends.

“Then it is settled!” Mr Gardiner declared jovially. He turned to their host with a broad smile. “Mr Darcy, sir, we would be delighted if you could join us—should your plans allow it. And Colonel Fitzwilliam, of course, you would be most welcome as well.”

The colonel gave an easy laugh, shaking his head. “Ah, would that I could, but I am expected at Matlock. However, as I am travelling in the same direction, I can accompany you as far as Rowsley, if that suits?” Turning to his cousin, he then asked, “Darcy, what say you?”

Mr Darcy, his expression more reserved, shook his head. “I must decline, I am afraid. The impending storm requires that I see to my tenants and ensure proper preparations are in place.” His gaze shifted to his sister as he added, “Georgiana, would you care to go? I know you are fond of horses, and Mr Wainwright’s farm is in a particularly picturesque part of the county. That is, of course, if Mr Gardiner has no objection.”

Mr Gardiner happily assented, and Elizabeth watched as Miss Darcy’s eyes grew round, her face flushed with lively expectation.

“Oh, Brother, may I? I should enjoy that above all else!”

Mr Darcy responded with an indulgent smile, while Jane, seated across from Miss Darcy, immediately engaged the younger girl in animated conversation. Mr Bingley soon joined in, and the lively discourse carried on for the remainder of the meal, lending a pleasant note to an otherwise uncertain evening.

Once dinner had concluded, the entire party removed to the drawing room, and after tea was served, Miss Darcy was once again persuaded to move to the pianoforte. As the delicate strains of a Clementi composition filled the air, the assembled guests broke into smaller groups, some to listen to the music and others to engage in quiet conversation. Seated on a settee beside her sister and across from her aunt and Mr Bingley, Elizabeth set down her teacup, giving voice to an idea that had come to her during their earlier discussions.

“Jane, would you be terribly upset if I did not accompany you tomorrow?” she began. Seeing her sister’s stricken expression, she hastened to add, “It is only that you know I do not share your fascination with horses, and now that you will have Miss Darcy for companionship, I thought I might join our aunt on her calls.”

Mrs Gardiner regarded each of her nieces in turn before saying to Elizabeth, “You know I should be very glad for your company, Lizzy, if Jane and Mr Bingley do not object to your absence.”

Jane’s gaze darted briefly to Mr Bingley, a faint flush suffusing her countenance before she quickly lowered her lashes, her voice soft as she replied, “Of course. It is kind of you to think of our aunt, Lizzy. I shall not mind.”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her sister before turning her attention to Mr Bingley, who was presently fiddling with his cuffs, his eyes trained steadfastly upon the carpet.

“And you, sir? Surely you will not even notice my absence when surrounded by so many equine enthusiasts,” she teased lightly.

Mr Bingley straightened, a flicker of uncertainty colouring his expression. “Well, I… That is, while I had greatly anticipated the visit, I should be most willing to forgo the excursion and accompany you and your aunt instead, if that is your wish. Truly, it would be my pleasure.”

Although his words were polite and deferential, the quiet disappointment in his tone was impossible to miss. “That is a most generous offer, sir,” Elizabeth replied, “but I shall not hear of it. I know very well where your true interest lies, and it is certainly not sitting in a parlour in Lambton, listening to my aunt and her friends share reminiscences about their youth. Besides,” she added with a pointed glance, “I am certain Mr Darcy will be counting on you to escort his sister, and Miss Darcy would be gravely disappointed if her brother were to rescind his consent.”

Mr Bingley hesitated before offering Elizabeth a sheepish smile. “Well, if you are quite certain…”

“I am,” Elizabeth assured him firmly. “And I shall brook no argument. Indeed, I shall eagerly await your return, ready to hear all about your grand adventure.”

The after-dinner entertainment ended sooner than usual that evening, as everyone anticipated an early start on the morrow. Mr Bingley withdrew to pen a message to his aunt, informing her of his delayed arrival. Mr Gardiner composed a note to Mr Wainwright regarding their revised plans, while Colonel Fitzwilliam excused himself to pack for his imminent departure. Meanwhile, Mr Darcy went in search of his steward to begin preparations for the approaching storm.

The remainder of the party retired to their chambers with a mixture of anticipation and quiet resolve for the day ahead.

Having reached their apartment, Elizabeth and Jane curled up in their shared sitting room, the warm glow of the fire casting a soft light over their cosy retreat. A comfortable silence stretched between them as they both stared into the shifting flames, each lost in her own thoughts. It was Jane who broke the stillness, a faint furrow appearing at her temple as she turned to Elizabeth.

“Perhaps I ought not to go tomorrow,” she said quietly, and Elizabeth’s head instantly snapped round to face her sister, her eyes wide.

“Not go? But you have been looking forward to this excursion above everything! You could hardly speak of anything else on our journey here.”

Jane flushed, lowering her gaze to her lap. “Yes, that is true. But that was before I knew Mr Bingley would be accompanying us—and you would not. How will it look if Mr Bingley and I are seen in company together without you? After all, he is your beau, not mine.”

Elizabeth blinked at her sister in surprise before laughing lightly. “Jane, you are beginning to sound like Mama! A gentleman and a lady may enjoy each other’s company without it sparking scandal or rumours of matrimony. Besides, you will hardly be alone. Do not forget that Miss Darcy will also be present, as will our uncle, so it will all be perfectly respectable. Besides, as you may recall, I was the one who encouraged Mr Bingley to go. There certainly can be no call for anyone else to object when I do not.”

Across from her, Jane nodded slowly. “I suppose.” Her cheeks coloured prettily, and she bit her lip as if reluctant to agree. “No, you are right,” she admitted after a slight pause. “I do dearly wish to see the farm. I suppose I am only being silly.”

Elizabeth leaned back against the settee with a tender smile. “Not silly, Jane. Just thoughtful, as always. But you must allow yourself to take some pleasure in this visit. I shall enjoy myself just as much in Lambton with Aunt Gardiner.”

Jane gave her a tentative nod in return, the worry beginning to ease from her face. “Thank you, Lizzy. I do not know what I would do without your encouragement.”

Elizabeth chuckled, releasing her sister’s hand. “And I do not know what I would do without your good sense to temper my wild notions. Now, let us not waste another moment fretting. If the storm holds off, tomorrow promises to be a lovely day, and I fully expect you to tell me every detail of it when you return.”

Jane nodded, her smile growing warmer as the fire crackled between them. For a little while longer, the sisters sat together, their conversation turning to lighter topics, until at last the flames burned low and the promise of rest called them both to their beds.

The party of four—with the addition of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who intended to ride with them for a portion of the way—departed for Mr Wainwright’s farm immediately following breakfast. Mr Darcy excused himself soon afterwards, while Elizabeth accompanied her aunt upstairs to prepare for their morning calls. But it was not long before she found herself standing outside the Gardiners’ apartment, knocking lightly upon the door.

“Come in,” came the cheerful reply, and Elizabeth entered to find her aunt at the dressing table, fastening her gloves.

“Would you mind dreadfully if I did not accompany you this morning?” she began, before continuing with a slight frown, “I am afraid the change in the weather has brought on the beginnings of a headache.”

Mrs Gardiner turned immediately, her expression shifting to one of concern. “A headache? Oh, my dear, I am sorry to hear that. Shall I call for some powders? Perhaps it would be best if I stayed with you.”

Elizabeth shook her head, attempting a reassuring smile. “No, you must not alter your plans on my account. It is nothing serious, I assure you. A little rest and quiet is all I require.”

Mrs Gardiner hesitated, her brows knitting with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I would hate to leave you alone if you are unwell.”

Elizabeth’s smile faltered slightly. In truth, the timing of her headache was far from ideal; it would render her the only remaining guest at Pemberley, in Mr Darcy’s sole company—a thought hardly conducive to easing her discomfort. But as quickly as the notion formed, she dismissed it. No, she was being silly. She did not think it likely that she would leave her chambers, and Mr Darcy would undoubtedly be occupied with readying the estate for the better part of the day. He would have no cause to notice her presence in the house.

“Quite sure,” Elizabeth replied softly. “It is just a mild discomfort. Truly, I would feel far worse knowing you missed the chance to visit your friends because of me. Please, go and enjoy yourself.”

Her aunt studied her face, searching for any signs of greater distress, before relenting with a sigh. “Very well, but you must promise to send for me if the headache worsens or if you need anything at all.”

“You have my word,” Elizabeth said, her tone firm yet warm.

Satisfied, Mrs Gardiner gave her niece’s hand a brief, comforting squeeze before turning back to gather her things. Elizabeth lingered only a moment longer, offering her aunt a parting smile before retreating to her chambers.

Once inside, she closed the door softly behind her, letting out a slow breath. The quiet enveloped her, and she moved to the armchair by the window, sinking into its comforting embrace. She gazed out over the frost-covered gardens, allowing the stillness to settle over her. Solitude, she reminded herself, was precisely what she needed—both for the throbbing in her temples and for the flurry of thoughts that had begun to weigh heavily on her heart.

Darcy pushed open the conservatory doors, brushing the last traces of dirt from his coat and removing his hat and gloves. Warm air, rich with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine, enveloped him, a stark contrast to the biting wind outside.

He paused, taking a moment to appreciate the tranquillity of the space—the lush greenery, the colourful blossoms impervious to winter’s rapid approach. Turning towards the entrance to the house, Darcy moved with deliberate strides, his mind already on the tasks awaiting him inside his study.

But then he saw her.

Elizabeth Bennet sat on a bench on the far side of the room, a book open in her lap. The sunlight streaming through the glass bathed her in a golden glow, illuminating the gentle curve of her profile as she turned a page. Her presence here, so unexpected, caused him to startle, and his breath caught.

At the sound of his approach, Elizabeth looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. Darcy stopped abruptly, his pulse quickening as their eyes met.

“Mr Darcy!” Her voice, though steady, carried a note of apprehension. She quickly closed her book, rising to her feet.

“Miss Bennet.” He inclined his head, striving to master the sudden unease that had stirred within him. “I— I did not expect to find you here. I thought you had gone into Lambton with your aunt.”

Elizabeth coloured faintly before offering an apologetic smile. “I had intended to, but I found myself unwell this morning—a slight headache. I thought it best to remain behind and rest.” She hesitated then, shifting her gaze before saying, “I am much improved now, however, and felt the need for a change of scenery. I did not mean to intrude.”

“You could not,” he said quickly, then added more evenly, “You are welcome to enjoy any part of the house for as long as you like.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

For a moment, neither spoke, the silence stretching between them. Darcy was acutely aware of every sound—the soft ticking of his pocket watch, the faint drip of water in the distance, and the steady rhythm of his heart.

He shifted his weight, struggling to gather his thoughts. “I am glad to hear that you are feeling better. I wonder, if you are not otherwise engaged, whether I might take you to another part of the house, one that we did not have time to explore the other day…”

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Darcy continued at a rapid pace, “If you would permit me, Miss Bennet, I should very much like to show you the orangery. It is but a short walk through that passage over there, and I believe you may find it…agreeable.”

Elizabeth tilted her head, her eyes bright. “Indeed, I should be most delighted to see it. I have often admired such places but have not had the pleasure of visiting one in some time.” Setting her book down on the stone bench she had recently vacated, she regarded him again with an impish smile. “Pray, Mr Darcy, lead the way.”

Darcy did as Elizabeth directed, extending his arm and gesturing for her to follow. As they proceeded down the long, softly lit corridor, his heart beat an erratic rhythm inside his chest. Each step along the polished wooden floors brought him closer to the moment he had imagined countless times—Elizabeth in the midst of the verdant greenery, her countenance alight with wonder.

As he opened the door and stepped aside to allow her entrance, Darcy’s pulse quickened. The orangery unfolded before them, its lofty glass ceiling arching high overhead, bathing the room in golden light. Rows of fruit trees—orange, lemon, and fig—stood in stately symmetry, their glossy leaves catching the muted daylight and casting dappled shadows across the tiled floor. Pots of fragrant herbs lined the perimeter, their scents mingling with the sweet tang of citrus that filled the air.

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath, turning to look up at him with wide eyes. “Mr Darcy, this is…exquisite. Indeed, I have never seen anything of its like before. It is simply remarkable!”

Darcy felt a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, though he struggled to find words that could match her expression. “I am gratified you think so. It is a place where I have always found solace—a haven if you will. And I thought perhaps you might enjoy it, given your affinity for nature.”

She stepped farther inside, her fingers trailing lightly through the aromatic fronds of lavender and rosemary. “It is not merely the plants, though they are indeed lovely. It is the tranquillity of the place, the harmony of it. One could hardly feel anything but peace here.”

Darcy followed her gaze as it wandered to the benches nestled amidst the greenery. Some were half hidden by tall ferns and trailing ivy, offering private retreats for quiet contemplation.

“It was designed with that very intention,” he replied. “To allow one to sit and think, or simply to be. I have often found myself lingering here longer than I intended.”

Elizabeth turned to him then, her eyes reflecting the dim light that filtered through the glass. “I can well imagine why. It is a space that invites thoughtfulness. And it is clear that great care has gone into its preservation.”

He inclined his head, basking in the warmth of her praise as though it were the sunlight itself. “It has been a labour of love, I confess. And one that seems well rewarded in this moment.”

Her colour deepened, but Darcy, emboldened by her evident delight, offered her his arm. “May I show you the rest? There are some particularly fine specimens I should not wish you to miss.”

Elizabeth nodded, slowly reaching out to place her hand lightly upon his sleeve. “Yes, Mr Darcy, I should be very glad to see more.”