Chapter Text
Darcy had been at Pemberley less than half an hour when Mrs Reynolds informed him that there were visitors in the house.
“A gentleman and his wife, sir, with a young lady. They came from Lambton this morning.”
Darcy nodded. There was nothing unusual in that. Pemberley was open to respectable visitors while the family was away, and in summer there were often several parties in a week.
“And the spaniel pups?”
“Doing very well, sir.”
Something in her tone made him glance up. “Except?”
Mrs Reynolds sighed. “Puck has escaped again.”
“The same one?”
“I am afraid so. Jenkins insists the kennel was secured.”
Darcy set down the letter he had been reading. Puck had been the smallest of the litter and, for the first weeks of his life, the least troublesome. Since discovering that four legs could carry him considerably farther than the kennel yard, however, he had developed an alarming determination to inspect every acre of Pemberley for himself.
“How long has he been gone?”
“Perhaps an hour.”
“Have Jenkins find him before the horses are brought round.”
“Yes, sir.”
Darcy did not ask the names of the visitors. He returned to the papers on his desk, giving neither matter another thought.
He had come to Pemberley sooner than he had intended. Georgiana was to arrive the following morning with Bingley and the rest of their party, but a letter from his steward had persuaded Darcy to travel ahead of them. None of the business was urgent enough to cause alarm. One tenant wished to take on additional land, another disputed a boundary which had apparently remained undisputed for more than thirty years, and repairs to a cottage had uncovered considerably more decay than anyone had expected.
They were ordinary matters, though several required decisions Darcy preferred to make himself. He finished the page before him, made a note in the margin and glanced at the clock. Mr Hughes would already be waiting.
Darcy gathered the papers he required and left his study. He had nearly reached the end of the passage when a woman’s voice carried through the open doors of the saloon.
For one absurd instant, he thought of Elizabeth Bennet.
He dismissed the idea at once. He had thought of her far too often since leaving Kent. Apparently he had now begun to hear her as well.
The woman spoke again as he passed the doorway. He could not distinguish the words, though there was something in the cadence of the voice, some note of amusement at the end of the sentence, which was so familiar that his pace slowed despite himself.
It was impossible. Elizabeth was most likely at Longbourn, unless she had already begun the summer journey with her aunt and uncle of which she had spoken at Rosings. He could not remember when she had said they intended to travel, though he remembered altogether too much of everything else she had said.
Even if she were travelling, Derbyshire was a large county. The possibility of Elizabeth Bennet standing in the next room at Pemberley was so remote that only a man who had spent far too many weeks thinking of her could have entertained it.
Darcy glanced through the doorway. Mrs Reynolds stood with a gentleman of perhaps forty and a lady somewhat younger. They were examining one of the paintings, and Darcy recognised neither of them. Their young companion was nowhere in sight.
That settled it.
He continued towards the estate office, faintly annoyed with himself for having stopped at all. He had done enough foolish things where Elizabeth Bennet was concerned.
Mr Hughes was waiting with the relevant maps spread across a table. For the next half hour Darcy succeeded in keeping his attention where it belonged. The tenant who wished to enlarge his farm had offered reasonable terms, although Hughes had reservations about one of the fields.
“The western field drains poorly,” he said, indicating it on the map. “Better than it did ten years ago, but I would not call it good land.”
“Does Ellison know that?”
“He has farmed beside it for fifteen years. He knows it better than either of us.”
“Then there is little danger of his being misled. Let him have it for the term he proposed. If the drainage fails entirely, we can revisit the rent.”
Hughes nodded and made a note before moving to the repairs at the Harpers’ cottage. Darcy listened to the estimate, asked what could be salvaged and authorised the additional expense. There was little sense in repairing a roof only to discover the following winter that the timbers beneath it had failed.
It was familiar work, and Darcy had missed it more than he had realised. London had offered too much time for reflection, while Rosings had provided considerably too much of Elizabeth. Pemberley usually demanded that he think of other people and their concerns.
Unfortunately, when Hughes began explaining the history of the disputed boundary, Darcy found himself thinking that the woman’s laugh had sounded remarkably like hers. He frowned at the map.
“Sir?”
Darcy looked up. “Forgive me. You were saying?”
Hughes repeated the point, and Darcy forced his attention back to the matter until their meeting ended. They left the estate office together, Hughes turning towards the stables while Darcy decided to walk as far as the western field before returning to the house.
“Will you require a horse, sir?”
“No. I shall walk.”
They parted beside the stable yard. Darcy had gone perhaps fifty yards when he saw three people ahead of him. The gentleman and lady he recognised at once as the visitors he had glimpsed inside the house. Their young companion walked a little ahead of them with her back towards him.
He stopped. His imagination might have deceived his ears, but there was no mistaking that figure. He knew the way she walked, the turn of her head as she looked towards the water, and the dark curls beneath her bonnet.
Then Elizabeth Bennet turned and saw him. For several seconds neither of them moved.
Darcy had imagined seeing her again. He had done so unwillingly at first and rather more willingly as the weeks passed. He had imagined encountering her at some assembly in Hertfordshire, perhaps in London during the winter, or at any one of a hundred places where they might reasonably meet. He had considered what he ought to say and how he ought to behave. He had resolved that, should such a meeting occur, he would give her no reason to think him resentful of her refusal and no reason to fear another declaration.
In none of those imaginings had Elizabeth been standing beside the river at Pemberley.
He went towards her. “Miss Bennet.”
“Mr Darcy.”
She coloured immediately, and he suspected his own composure was little better than hers.
“I had not known you were in Derbyshire.”
“My aunt and uncle wished to visit Lambton. Mrs Gardiner lived there for some years.”
“Yes, of course.”
He had no idea why he had said it. He had not known it at all. Her companions approached, and Elizabeth glanced towards them. Darcy remembered himself sufficiently to bow.
“You have been viewing the house?”
“Yes. We understood that the family was not expected to return until tomorrow.”
There was the faintest suggestion of humour in her voice, and Darcy almost winced.
“You understood correctly. I returned earlier than I had intended.”
“So Mrs Reynolds informed us.”
He wondered what else Mrs Reynolds had informed them of. Judging by Elizabeth’s heightened colour, possibly a great deal.
“I hope you found the house worth seeing.”
“Very much so.”
There was no mockery in her answer. Elizabeth glanced towards Pemberley and then back at him with an expression he could not interpret. Darcy became conscious that he was staring and asked after her family instead.
It seemed the safest subject available, though Miss Bennet’s name brought its own discomfort. Elizabeth assured him that everyone at Longbourn was well. Her answers were easy, without the edge that had so often accompanied their conversations in Hertfordshire, and Darcy found himself listening for more than mere information.
He wondered whether Bingley knew any of it. His friend still spoke of Hertfordshire from time to time, though less often than he once had. Since Hunsford, Darcy had found it increasingly difficult to remember why he had ever been so certain that separating Bingley from Miss Bennet had been an act of friendship. Elizabeth’s accusation had been made in anger, but that did not make it false.
Her aunt and uncle were close enough now that their conversation could not continue privately, and Elizabeth made the introductions.
“Mr Darcy, my aunt and uncle, Mr and Mrs Gardiner.”
Darcy bowed and received the introduction with an embarrassment he hoped he concealed. These were the relations Elizabeth had mentioned at Rosings. Mr Gardiner was the uncle in trade whose existence Darcy had once considered a serious objection to any connection between their families.
He looked at the man before him and found an intelligent, well-mannered gentleman whose address in Cheapside seemed suddenly of remarkably little consequence. Mrs Gardiner spoke with warmth and ease, and within a few minutes Darcy was wondering how he had ever allowed himself to make so much of connections he had never troubled to meet.
Another recollection of Hunsford arrived to complete his discomfort. Elizabeth had accused him of arrogance, conceit and selfish disdain for the feelings of others.
He had supplied her with abundant evidence.
Mr Gardiner remarked upon the beauty of the grounds, and the conversation soon turned to fishing when he mentioned the river. Darcy learned that he was a keen fisherman and invited him to return and try the stream.
“You are very good, sir,” Mr Gardiner said. “I should be delighted, if it would not inconvenience you.”
“Not at all. There is excellent fishing beyond the bend. I would be pleased to show you.”
Darcy caught Elizabeth looking at him. Once, he would have decided what the look meant. At Netherfield he had believed he understood her smiles, and at Rosings he had believed he understood her arguments. Hunsford had cured him of such confidence.
If Elizabeth was pleased by his civility to her relations, he was glad of it. He would attach no other meaning to her expression merely because he wished to find one.
They walked together towards the house. Mrs Gardiner asked about several places she remembered from her youth, and Darcy answered where he could. She knew the neighbourhood well and asked after families whose names he had known since childhood. Mr Gardiner had questions about the estate and the river, while Elizabeth walked beside her aunt and occasionally joined the conversation.
The stiffness of their first meeting gradually eased. Darcy found himself enjoying it rather too much. He was reminding himself that simple civility from Elizabeth was all he had any right to expect when she laughed at something her uncle said. He looked at her, recognising the sound immediately.
So he had heard her after all. Had he asked Mrs Reynolds the names of the visitors, he might have had several minutes in which to prepare himself. Perhaps it was better that he had not. He doubted any amount of preparation would have been sufficient.
They had nearly reached the house when Mr and Mrs Gardiner stopped to admire the view across the water, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth a short distance ahead.
“I hope your sister is well,” Elizabeth said.
“She is. She will be here tomorrow.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You must be pleased.”
“I am.”
Darcy hesitated. There was something he wanted very much, though he was conscious that even a simple request might be regarded differently after Hunsford. He had promised himself he would never again assume that Elizabeth’s willingness to speak to him meant more than she intended.
Still, Georgiana had heard Elizabeth’s name often before Kent, although she knew nothing of his proposal. Darcy had once imagined introducing them under very different circumstances.
“Miss Bennet, there is something I should like to ask, if you would permit it.”
Her brows rose.
“My sister has heard me speak of you. Would you allow me to introduce her to your acquaintance while you remain in Lambton?”
Elizabeth’s surprise was unmistakable. For one uncomfortable moment Darcy thought he had asked too much, but then she smiled.
“I should be very pleased to meet Miss Darcy.”
Relief came with more force than the situation warranted. “Thank you.”
“When does she arrive?”
“Tomorrow morning. Bingley is travelling with her, along with his sisters and Mr Hurst.”
The change in Elizabeth was slight, but he saw it.
“Mr Bingley?”
“Yes.”
Of course Bingley’s name would recall Jane. Darcy had spent the weeks since Hunsford reconsidering his interference in that affair and had reached conclusions which did him little credit.
“I believe he will be pleased to hear that you are in the neighbourhood.”
Elizabeth looked at him. “Will he?”
“Yes.”
That answer, at least, required no qualification.
Mrs Gardiner rejoined them before Elizabeth could say more, and they continued towards the house, where the Gardiners’ carriage was waiting. A groom stood at the horses’ heads while the coachman checked one of the traces.
Darcy glanced towards the stable yard. He saw no sign of Puck and assumed Jenkins had found him.
Mrs Gardiner thanked Darcy for his kindness, and Mr Gardiner repeated that he hoped to accept the offer of fishing before they left Derbyshire.
“I shall hold you to it,” Darcy said.
Mr Gardiner laughed. “Then I have no choice.”
Darcy handed Mrs Gardiner into the carriage. Mr Gardiner followed and settled opposite her, leaving Elizabeth beside Darcy.
Darcy knew he ought simply to wish her a pleasant return to Lambton and allow her to leave. Instead he found himself reluctant to bring the encounter to an end.
For weeks he had been attempting to accept that he might never speak to her again except through the formalities of society. An hour earlier he had believed her many miles away. Now she stood at Pemberley, smiling at him with a warmth he could not remember receiving from her before Hunsford.
More than that, she had agreed to meet Georgiana.
It was enough. He would make it enough.
“I hope the remainder of your stay in Derbyshire is pleasant, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy. I am sure it will be.”
He offered his hand, and Elizabeth placed her gloved fingers in his as she stepped towards the carriage.
“Puck!”
The shout came from somewhere behind him. Darcy turned to see a small brown-and-white spaniel racing around the corner of the house, ears flying behind him and something that looked suspiciously like a length of ribbon trailing from his mouth.
“Puck!”
The puppy paid no attention. He bounded towards the drive, veered neatly around Jenkins and escaped the groom who lunged for him.
Darcy’s stomach dropped. “Stop him!”
Puck darted directly in front of the carriage horses. The nearest horse shied violently, and Elizabeth’s hand tightened around Darcy’s. The second horse jerked against the traces as the coachman shouted and hauled upon the reins.
The carriage lurched beneath her. Elizabeth lost her footing, and Darcy caught her around the waist before she could fall beneath the wheel. Behind her, Mrs Gardiner cried out as the horses plunged sideways.
“Hold them!”
The groom seized for the bridle and missed. Darcy dragged Elizabeth away from the carriage as one wheel struck the edge of the drive.
There was a crack of splintering wood. The carriage went over.
“Uncle!”
Elizabeth tore herself from Darcy’s arms.