Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 (23 page)

Mrs Gardiner nodded, then said, ‘It is something that has concerned everyone who loves Jane. But no one will dare take advantage of her once she is Mr Darcy’s wife. She will have the wealth and power of Pemberley at her back. Everyone will be eager to please her, the more so because they know that, if they don’t, they will incur Mr Darcy’s wrath.’

Elizabeth saw the truth of it. No shopkeeper would risk losing Pemberley’s custom and no servant would risk being turned off without a reference. Jane herself would not have the spirit to take her custom elsewhere, or dismiss a servant without a reference, but Mr Darcy would. His arrogant nature would have its uses.

‘And it is not just a question of shopkeepers and servants,’ said Mrs Gardiner. ‘Jane does not have a decisive temperament. She finds it difficult to take decisions because she wants to please everyone and such a thing is impossible. But in life many decisions have to be taken. When Jane marries Mr Darcy she will never be put to the trouble of making a decision again because he will make all the important decisions for her.’

‘Oh, yes, I am sure he will be only too happy to do that,’ remarked Elizabeth saucily, remembering his autocratic manner.

‘I know
you
would not like it, Lizzy,’ said her aunt. ‘It would rouse your fighting spirit. But Jane is not like you. She will be grateful for it. And then, leaving aside the question of personality, there are other things to be considered. I have been worried for some time about Jane. She is of an age to be married, and yet who is there in Meryton for her? There are no young men of the right age to be suitable, and no one of the right temperament to make her happy. And, added to this, Jane has no dowry to speak of. But Mr Darcy does not require a dowry. He requires only a sweet-natured wife —’

‘— who will agree with him in all things?’ asked Elizabeth in a bantering manner.

But her aunt replied seriously, ‘Yes. Is that really so much to ask, in exchange for everything he has to offer?’

Elizabeth was chastened. ‘Perhaps not.’

‘I know you would like a love match for your sister, but I beg you to remember that this marriage might blossom into a love match in time. Even if it does not, Mr Darcy will always treat Jane with respect and he will make sure that everyone else does likewise. She will be safe and comfortable for the rest of her life, and I am persuaded she will be happy as well. And so I ask you to get to know Mr Darcy better, and to make it your business to find something you can like about him, for Jane’s sake if not your own.’

‘Very well, Aunt, I will try,’ Elizabeth said.

‘Good. Because you will be seeing a lot of him in the future and I do not want you to feel uncomfortable in his company, or he in yours. Your sister herself has chosen this fate, remember. She has freely accepted him, so now it is time for you to be happy for her, Lizzy.’

Elizabeth finished her daisy chain and slipped it around her wrist.

‘I understand,’ she said.

‘Good. Then that is all I ask.’

Luckily for Elizabeth, she was not tried too hard over the next few days, for Mr Darcy returned to Pemberley so that he could make sure everything was prepared for Jane’s visit.

‘I wish I were going to Pemberley,’ said Lydia as she watched them pack. ‘I am sure Mr Darcy must have some eligible friends or relatives. What fun it would be to marry one or other of them!’

‘In point of fact, you are too young to marry,’ said Mary, pushing her spectacles up onto the bridge of her nose.

‘La! Whoever asked you?’ said Lydia, pulling a face at Mary.

‘I think I shall marry Mr Darcy’s friend when he takes Netherfield Park,’ said Kitty, patting her hair.

‘
If
he takes Netherfield Park,’ said Mary. ‘Nothing has been decided yet. Mr Darcy’s friend has not even been to see it.’

‘But Mr Darcy approves of Netherfield. I heard it from Mr Morris’s sister so the thing is certain,’ said Kitty.

‘If anyone is to marry Mr Darcy’s friend, it will be me,’ said Lydia.

‘Oh dear, should I really be going to Pemberley?’ asked Jane in dismay. ‘I cannot help thinking my aunt and uncle Philips will find it burdensome to look after my sisters.’

‘Your aunt and uncle Philips are very happy to help,’ said Mrs Gardiner firmly. ‘And speaking of your aunt Philips, she will be here directly, to take care of the younger girls. It is all arranged. Now, is everything packed?’

Elizabeth nodded. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘Then as soon as Mr Darcy’s carriage arrives for us – just one example of his kindness,’ said Mrs Gardiner, looking meaningfully at Lizzy – ‘we will be on our way.’

The journey into Derbyshire was long but pleasant. The carriage was well sprung and the seats were comfortable. They stopped at various coaching inns along the way to change the horses, and the ladies took some exercise and availed themselves of some refreshments each time the horses were changed.

Each time they stopped they found themselves in a different kind of countryside. Their home in Hertfordshire was full of low green fields and gentle scenery, but as they travelled further north the scenery became more dramatic. They found themselves travelling high up on exposed moors, with purple heather blooming in the sunshine, and large outcrops of rock forming grandiose features. Elizabeth sprang across the moors when they stopped at various isolated inn, caring nothing for the thinness of her shoes, and climbed some of the lesser rocks in order to have a more splendid view. Her sister and aunt were more cautious, staying on the road and not venturing onto the moor.

Elizabeth felt her interest quickening still further when the private carriage approached Pemberley. Her aunt regaled them with stories of her youth spent in the neighbourhood, and Elizabeth watched such landmarks as the inn at Lambton fly by.

And then, far sooner than she had imagined, they were at the gates of Pemberley.

Elizabeth felt a sense of awe at the size of the gates and she could tell that Jane felt the same. The gates were immensely tall and the gate posts were topped with stone pineapples, as was customary in many fine estates.

A lodge keeper emerged from the well-built stone lodge and opened the gates, bowing as the coach rolled through. Then he closed the gates behind him.

Elizabeth turned her eyes ahead. The Pemberley park now opened up in front of them in all its glory. They drove for some time through a beautiful wood and then they climbed steadily for half a mile before the wood ceased. The sight took Elizabeth’s breath away. She found herself staring at Pemberley House, a magnificent edifice, situated on the opposite side of a valley.

Lucky, lucky Jane!
she thought.
To be the mistress of Pemberley will be something indeed!

The coach continued along the drive and Elizabeth drank in every detail of the wonderful estate. The house was enormous, built of stone, and was very ornate. It was positioned on a hill, with woods behind it, and in front of it was a large stream which had swelled so much that it could almost be called a river.

They crossed the bridge and drove to the entrance. The coach rolled to a halt. One of the footmen jumped down from the front of the coach and opened the door. He let down the step and then helped Jane, Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner to alight.

Elizabeth settled her bonnet more firmly on her head and then smoothed her hands over her muslin gown, which had become creased in the coach.

Next to her, Jane unfurled a parasol and Mrs Gardiner fastened one of the buttons on her pelisse, which had come undone.

Then the ladies approached the front door. As they did so, it opened and Mr Darcy emerged.

Elizabeth caught her breath for the second time that day, for Mr Darcy was looking as magnificent as his house. His dark hair was brushed back from his face, revealing the proud forehead, chiselled cheekbones and determined chin she remembered so well. His clothes were immaculate. His coat of blue superfine was so well tailored it fit him like a second skin. Snowy white linen spilled in a frill from the front of his coat and trimmed the bottom of his sleeve. A white cravat was intricately tied around his neck and a diamond tie-pin caught the light. Cream pantaloons were moulded to him and disappeared into boots which were so highly polished they reflected the light.

He was a perfect match for Pemberley.

He descended the stone steps and crossed the gravel drive to meet them. He went straight to Jane, bowing over her hand and welcoming her to Pemberley.

Jane thanked him.

He welcomed Mrs Gardiner and then turned to Elizabeth. She felt herself caught in his penetrating gaze. He seemed to see right through her: to see her admiration of his splendid residence and her curiosity about him. For she
was
curious about him. As the man who was to marry her sister, she wanted to know everything about him, for she loved Jane dearly and she wanted him to know that Jane was well loved. She wanted him to know that Jane might be meek and mild, but that she had a spirited sister who would take up cudgels on her behalf if it should be necessary.

And she wanted to fulfil her promise to her aunt, and try to find some things she liked about Mr Darcy so that the two of them could become friends.

So, resisting the urge to meet his penetrating look with an arch remark, she merely dropped a demure curtsey.

Once they had given their outdoor clothes to the servants, Mr Darcy offered to show them round the house. Jane declared herself tired after the journey and said she would like to rest. Mrs Gardiner, too, said she would welcome a rest. But Elizabeth was of an energetic nature and she accepted his offer. And besides, she was eager to seize the chance of spending some time with Mr Darcy alone so that she could better judge his character, and so she said she would welcome a tour.

She wanted to get to know the man who was going to be responsible for her beloved sister’s future happiness and she was determined to take every chance that offered itself in pursuit of that goal.

Elizabeth’s sister and aunt retired to their rooms and Elizabeth turned to Mr Darcy. He did not looked pleased that she had accepted his offer, but nevertheless he seemed to accept it.

‘Where would you like to begin?’ he asked.

‘I will put myself in your hands,’ Elizabeth said.

‘I doubt if —’He broke off, and she had the feeling he had been about to say,
I doubt if you have ever put yourself in anyone else’s hands on your life. You like your own way too well
. But instead he said, ‘Then we will start in the dining parlour.’

She was alert to every nuance of his behaviour as he led her through the magnificent hall, for she was trying to work him out. Elizabeth was a student of human nature and, despite herself, she found him intriguing. His nature was a rare type. In fact, it was so rare that it could not be called a type at all. Mr Darcy was unique. He was, according to Jane well mannered and kind. He was, according to Mrs Gardiner, an honourable man who would make Jane a good husband. And he was to Elizabeth . . . what? She did not yet know.

As they walked across the wonderful black and white floor, threading their way between marble columns, she saw that he was very much the master of the house. He walked with arrogance and assurance, the lord of all he surveyed. His servants treated him deferentially and he accepted their homage.

This was exactly as she had expected.

But when they entered the dining parlour she had a surprise.

She had expected to see a room full of showy furniture, existing to display his wealth and power. Instead, although the furniture was expensive, it was not gaudy or unnecessarily fine. There were several sofas upholstered in duck-egg blue damask, with an Aubusson carpet on the floor. There were elegant side tables set between the tall windows, and vases of freshly cut flowers arranged on top of them, providing a touch of bright summer colour. Long curtains framed the windows and hung almost from ceiling to floor. They were arranged with elaborate folds but they were elegant rather than ostentatious, and they were held back by simple plaited ties.

There was a dining-table and chairs, and she imagined Jane sitting at the foot of the table, with Mr Darcy at its head. She thought again that Jane would be a lucky woman. Or lucky, at least, where her surroundings were concerned. Whether she would be lucky as to her future husband – Elizabeth stole a look at his noble profile, which yet revealed very little of his inner self – that remained to be seen.

Beyond the window she could see the hill and the wood through which she had travelled, with trees scattered on the river bank and a winding valley. It was an idyllic scene, and showed the English countryside in all its verdant beauty.

‘It is a very fine estate,’ she said, wandering over to the window and looking out.

‘Yes, it is.’

She heard the pride in his voice, but honesty compelled her to admit that it was only a natural pride. There was nothing vainglorious about it.

‘How extensive is it?’ she asked.

‘The park is ten miles round,’ he said, joining her by the window. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his feet set apart, looking out at his domain. He was a picture of strength and confidence. Then he turned to face her and said, ‘You are welcome to ride here whenever you want. I have given instructions in the stables to that effect, and the grooms will help you find a suitable horse. One of them will always ride with you, so you need not be afraid of becoming lost.’

‘That is very kind of you’ –
kind
, she caught herself thinking; so Jane, after all, was right - but I do not enjoy riding,’ Elizabeth admitted.

He looked surprised. ‘But surely you must ride, even if you do not enjoy it? It is impossible to live in the country without a horse.’

‘Not at all,’ returned Elizabeth. ‘I love to walk, and my own two feet serve me well. In fact, by the time a horse has been saddled and brought round to the front of the house I can be half way to Meryton.’

Her eyes lingered on the interesting paths leading across the lawns and into the shrubbery, or into the woodland, or down to the lake. She longed to follow them and see what new vistas they revealed.

‘You must be a very good walker indeed if you are prepared to walk for several miles whenever you want to pay a visit to one of your neighbours,’ he said.

‘I am,’ she replied. ‘I think nothing of walking two or three miles in the summer. And even in the winter, if it is not positively pouring with rain or snowing a blizzard, I love to walk. It is good exercise. I enjoy it.’

She turned to him with a smile that was pure and full of genuine pleasure, and to her surprise he gave her an answering smile in return. She was even more surprised that his smile was warm and reached his eyes. It made her think that perhaps, after all, she had misjudged him. He might yet turn out to be a man she could like. Perhaps they could even be friends.

That would certainly make life easier if she was to live at Pemberley following Jane’s marriage.

‘Then, as you enjoy walking so much, you must feel free to walk in the park whenever you please. One of the footmen will accompany you to make sure you do not lose your way. But perhaps, when you come to know the estate, you will prefer to go by yourself?’

‘Mr Darcy,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘you already seem to know me very well!’

He shook his head, and fixed considering eyes on her. Whether they were full of disapproval or just curiosity she could not tell.

‘No, Miss Elizabeth, I do not know you at all. However, it is clear to me that you have an independent nature and I think you would find it confining to have someone always with you. Sometimes I . . . ’

He stopped abruptly.

‘Yes?’ prompted Elizabeth.

But his manner grew more formal and the ease which had started to grow up between them vanished. It was as if he felt he had given too much of himself away, and Elizabeth found herself wondering, not for the first time, what lay beneath his proud and haughty exterior.

He went on to talk about the park, but Elizabeth was sure he had been going to say something quite different. What was it?
Sometimes I . . . .
Did he, perhaps, sometimes long to escape notice? Did he sometimes wish he could not be Mr Darcy of Pemberley, but simply a man enjoying the fine weather and invigorating exercise, without having to always be on show?

She began to realise that life must be difficult for a man in Mr Darcy’s position. He had to always behave with the gravity befitting his status and so she began to see why he preserved such a formal exterior. She wondered if it was like a suit of clothes he slipped on when he was with other people – or a suit of armour, perhaps – or whether his reserve was a part of his character And she wondered if he was different with people he knew well.

She gave her attention back to what he was saying. He was pointing out some of the landmarks in the grounds so that she would not become lost if she chose to wander there alone.

‘ . . . and at the top of that path you will reach a clearing in the wood, with a folly. There is a seat there, so that you can rest if you need,’ he was saying. Then he added, ‘Your sister does not share your dislike of riding, I hope?’

‘Do you not know?’ asked Elizabeth in surprise. ‘You are shortly to marry her, after all.’

Her surprise was genuine because Mr Darcy had known her sister for months. But he took it as a criticism. She felt him withdraw into himself and his friendly manner retreated, to be replaced by his customary haughty demeanour.

His suit of armour was once more put on.

‘I cannot know everything all at once,’ he said.

Elizabeth did not know whether to be offended at the coldness of his manner or sorry that she had perhaps, unwittingly, hurt him, or perturbed about his lack of basic knowledge about Jane. As it was, she felt an unsettling mixture of all three.

She almost made a teasing reply but she remembered that he did not understand her teasing. And so she said simply, ‘Jane rides, but she does not like it overmuch. But neither is she a great walker. As the park is so extensive, I think she would prefer a phaeton.’

He bowed and said, ‘That can easily be arranged.’

Elizabeth wandered away from the window and walked around the room. It was a good size and it faced east, so it would catch the morning sun. There was a desk beneath one of the windows which looked out over the park. A delicate chair was set in front of it. It would be a pleasant room in which Jane could write letters and deal with the housekeeper in the mornings, deciding on the menus and other household matters.

Mr Darcy did not hurry her. He gave her time to look around the room and take in the atmosphere before he escorted her through to the sitting room. It was smaller than the dining parlour, but its proportions were good and its decorations were refined. There was a striped wallpaper, with green silk curtains and a handsome white Adam fireplace. The furniture was light and elegant.

But it was not the decorations, nor the furniture that attracted Elizabeth’s attention, it was the set of miniature portraits hanging over the mantelpiece.

Elizabeth went closer and saw that one of them was of Mr Darcy. Although it had been painted when he was considerably younger, he was still recognisable. Next to his portrait was a miniature of a young girl, who was probably about eight or nine years old when the picture was painted. She had fair hair and green eyes, and there was a sweet smile on her lips. She was wearing a pretty muslin gown and her hair was done up in a ribbon.

‘Is this your sister?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

Elizabeth was surprised to hear genuine affection in Mr Darcy’s voice. He was so reserved generally that she had gained the impression he was a man who did not have any affectionate feelings, but she had been wrong. He clearly loved his sister, and was thus capable of strong affections.

‘When will we meet her?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘She is staying with our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, at present. I thought Jane might be overwhelmed if she had too many new experiences all at once. But Georgiana will be here next week.’

Elizabeth was pleased. It was thoughtful of him - if rather arrogant of him to arrange everyone else in the way he thought best!

She looked at the third miniature portrait. It showed a young man of about Mr Darcy’s age – or, at least, Mr Darcy’s age when the miniatures had been painted – and charm radiated from the portrait. Laughter danced in the blue eyes and a smile played readily around the full lips.

‘And is this your brother?’ she asked.

She was surprised that she had never heard a brother spoken of, but there was surely no one else it could be.

His voice, when it came, was so cold it could have had icicles dripping off it. His whole posture had changed, becoming more forbidding than she had ever seen it.

‘I do not have a brother. That is the son of my father’s steward,’ he said.

There was obviously some mystery here, but she did not feel she could ask him about it. His face was closed and his expression was not encouraging.

Even so, she could not help wondering why there was a portrait of the son of a steward hanging next to the Darcy children. And she could also not help wondering why Mr Darcy kept the miniature hanging there when he so clearly despised the subject.

Mr Darcy walked over to the door and stood aside so that Elizabeth could precede him out of the room. It was obvious that the tour of Pemberley was over, at least for now. All their earlier camaraderie had vanished; so much so, that Elizabeth found herself wondering if she had imagined it.

She went over to the window and looked out, lingering a little to show him that she was not at his beck and call, and that she would leave the room when she was ready to, not when he commanded it. Then, when she had taken another turn around the room, she went out of the beautifully-panelled door.

As she did so, she heard the sound of a gong and saw a liveried footman just replacing the beater next to the impressive bronze instrument.

The ringing of the gong provided them with a polite way out of an uncomfortable situation. It was time to dress for dinner.

Elizabeth curtseyed and thanked him for the tour of the house.

Mr Darcy bowed and said, ‘Not at all.’

Then Elizabeth went lightly up the stairs.

But her curiosity about Pemberley had not been assuaged. Rather, it had been deepened. She would learn no more about the steward’s son from Mr Darcy but she meant to ask the housekeeper at the first opportunity. For, as Jane was to marry into the family, Elizabeth wanted to know as much as possible about it.