by Jann Rowland
Walking was not the only pastime in which they indulged, though Miss Bennet’s appetite for it appeared insatiable. While Darcy was eager to keep to her company, hoping to learn the wishes of his own heart, there were other activities to occupy them while at Pemberley, and Darcy wished to indulge in them all.
“As you can see,” said he one day while they were walking one of the longer paths, “there are many things to see near the house. But there are also many sights which can only be reached if we trust others to carry us there.”
“You speak of riding?” asked Miss Bennet, regarding him with curiosity.
“Do you not ride, Miss Bennet?”
“I have ridden,” replied she, “though Jane is the rider between us. I have always preferred my own two legs to carry me, and I would not obtain the exercise I do now if I were always perched on top of a noble beast.”
Darcy chuckled at her turn of phrase. “If you were to ride, you would see much more.”
“Perhaps I would,” replied she. “Is this where you tell me there is a horse in your stable which would suit me?”
“What would you say if I did?”
“I would say that I would have no objection to riding with you, Mr. Darcy.”
“If you require a little instruction, I shall provide it,” replied the gentleman, seeming pleased. “Then I shall show you some of the best sights you can see on the estate.”
Darcy was eager to make good on his word. Little instruction was required, for Miss Bennet remembered the lessons her father had given her as a girl, and while becoming accustomed to being in the saddle took some time, she was competent, if not skilled, before many days had passed. Soon, Miss Bennet was walking in the mornings, and in the afternoon, Darcy would ride with her, often in the company of the rest of the party.
They explored glens and streams, with small waterfalls and cold, deep pools, where fish darted this way and that in some elaborate game of tag. Pemberley rested in a long valley, and there were ridges and vales and all manner of greenery beyond anything Miss Elizabeth had never seen. On one end of the valley stood a low hill which provided a lovely view back over part of Darcy’s estate, one she told him reminded her much of Oakham Mount back in Hertfordshire. Every part was delightful, each sight better than the last, all of it manna for a starving soul. Darcy had never been so aware of it as he was when he was by Miss Bennet’s side.
Some days after Miss Elizabeth began riding, the company decided that a picnic would be just the thing. Hampers groaning with the bounty from Pemberley’s kitchen decorated the saddles of the gentlemen, along with blankets and parasols on the ladies’ mounts, as they cantered away from the house. Darcy and his sister guided them to a far-flung location in the northern section of his estate, to a part of the valley with a sheer side leading up to a small escarpment.
“What a lovely location this is, Mr. Darcy!” cried Miss Bennet as they guided their guests toward the thundering fall that was their destination. “An enchanting glade with a small pool. And bluebells!”
The ground was carpeted with the beautiful blue blooms, prompting Miss Bennet to slide from her horse and breathe in the sweet. As she stood there, delighting in the locale Darcy had always found calming, he felt a powerful longing emanate from his heart, the wish of seeing her in this place forever, of her coming to call this place her own. Though Darcy could not say this was love just yet, he was further on the path to her than he had thought.
“I wish to make a suggestion, sir,” said she, the twinkle in her eyes suggesting mischief. “Perhaps you should move Pemberley house here, for this is perhaps the most charming place I have ever seen.”
Amused, Darcy said: “Do you not think the house would spoil such a perfect scene? And what of the bluebells?”
“Perhaps you are correct,” said she, grinning with delight. “Then maybe a small cabin, one to provide a place to stay while one revels in the enjoyment of this locale? Then again, maybe sleeping under the stars would be just as fine.”
“As fine as anything, I should think,” replied Darcy.
“You do have the most curious notions, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bingley. “Come, let us unpack the lunch, for the rest of us wish to sustain ourselves so we do not perish from hunger. The beauty of the location is not enough to support us.”
With a grin and a wink, Miss Bennet went along with her sister to place their lunch on the blankets. As she walked away, it struck Darcy how she appeared to excellent advantage amid the glories of nature. It was how she was meant to be.
“I received a letter from your sister today.”
The mention of a letter caught Hugh’s attention, as Susan had known it would. It was well-known in society that the remaining Fitzwilliam siblings were on cordial terms and no more. Hugh considered his sister to be meddling, overbearing, and barely tolerable, sentiments with which Susan could not but agree.
“What does Catherine want, or can I guess?”
“I suspect you could if you put your mind to it,” said Susan. “It seems she has heard from that odious former parson of hers that Miss Bennet is at Pemberley with her relations and that she is coming here when she leaves Darcy’s house.”
Hugh shook his head. “That is a matter of some curiosity to me too. I have seen you take young ladies under your wing, but never in this manner. The girl, though she appears to be a good sort, is the scion of the lower gentry, her father naught but a country squire. Why is she of such interest to you?”
The time was not right to inform Hugh of the reasons for Susan’s interest, though if he took the trouble, he could likely divine it for himself. As he had been distracted, Susan allowed him to remain unaware of Darcy’s affinity for Miss Bennet; she knew he would learn the truth when she stayed at Snowlock.
“Georgiana adores her,” dissembled Susan, “as does Charity. Even Rachel likes her, and you know how fastidious she can be.”
“Perhaps they do approve of her. But there are many young ladies that Charity likes, yet you do not invite them to Snowlock.”
“With how many has Georgiana become so close?”
Shrugging to concede the point, Hugh returned to the subject of the conversation. “I suppose Catherine has written to demand you rescind the invitation?”
“It appears your understanding of your sister’s character remains excellent,” replied Susan. “Catherine confuses me—she has never induced me to follow her commands; why would she still think she can?”
“Why Catherine thinks she may do anything is beyond my understanding,” replied Hugh. “I ceased trying to understand her many years ago. Regardless, you know the letters will become a barrage if you ignore her. If there is one thing Catherine cannot abide, it is being disregarded.”
“Well do I know it,” replied Susan. “I shall send her a note, informing her I may do as I please. She will grumble and pout, but she will do nothing.”
Hugh nodded and returned to his paper, while Charity and Rachel entered the room. Charity, passing near Susan’s chair, happened to look down at the letter and see Catherine’s distinctive writing.
“What does Aunt Catherine have to say?” asked she as she fixed herself a plate from the sideboard.
“She has forbidden your mother from having Miss Bennet here,” interjected Hugh, setting Susan to chuckling.
Charity made a face, mirrored by Rachel. “On the contrary, I cannot wait for Miss Bennet to come, for I found her delightful.”
“It seems you were correct about at least one of our daughters,” said Hugh.
“I too found her lovely,” said Rachel. “It is unfortunate her connections are so low.”
Susan hid a smile behind her teacup; Rachel had always been the more particular of her daughters. As she might have predicted, Charity shot her sister a look and disagreed.
“I care not, for she is a gentleman’s daughter, and that is all that matters. We shall have such fun when she comes.” Charity turned to Susan. “Georgiana writes with nothing but praise of Miss B
ennet at Pemberley.”
“Has she begun to show signs of avarice?” asked Hugh. “Eventually they all do.”
“Nothing of the sort!” exclaimed Charity. “Though my time with her was limited, I know of no young lady is little impressed with wealth as Miss Bennet.”
“Hmm . . . I hope you are correct.”
In fact, Susan had every confidence in the truth of Charity’s statements. And she had something more than this, for Georgiana had also written her, and she had informed Susan that her brother and Miss Bennet appeared to be getting closer by the day. Perhaps she would be the one to finally tempt Darcy from his bachelor state. The man deserved some happiness, and if Miss Bennet were the one to provide it to him, Susan would allow no one to stand in their way.
Chapter XXIII
It could not be said that Bingley ignored the reason for his presence in Derbyshire in favor of more leisurely pursuits. For Darcy, their activities were both welcome and unwelcome—welcome because the distraction prevented him from thinking about Miss Bennet at all times: otherwise, he might never take his eyes or thoughts away from her; unwelcome because he could imagine no more pleasant way to spend his days!
The report compiled by Darcy’s man of business had been waiting for them when they arrived at Pemberley, and within days the friends had broken that report down and spoke of each one. As Darcy had lived in Derbyshire all his life, he knew much of the surrounding estates, either from experience or hearsay, which guided him in recommending which properties should receive most of their focus.
“I should not recommend Summerview Hall, Bingley,” Darcy had said early in their deliberations.
Bingley frowned. “Your man’s information suggests I could have it at a good price and it is not far distant.”
“That is true,” replied Darcy, “but there is a reason the price is so low. I have visited Summerview a time or two when Mr. Granger still lived, and even then there were many defects in the house, not to mention the outlying buildings and tenant cottages. The outlay for all these repairs may well exceed the cost of the estate.”
“Thus, you have proven your worth, my friend,” said Bingley. “I might have gone blundering into an untenable situation without your guidance.”
Though pleased to be of assistance to his friend, Darcy knew Bingley exaggerated. “You understood Netherfield’s deficiencies. At best, I have saved you the time it would have taken to journey to Summerview and back.”
“That is worth its weight in gold, my friend.”
Through Darcy’s advice and knowledge, coupled with what his man of business had provided, they separated the list of estates into three categories: the first of estates which seemed promising, one of those to investigate if the first list did not bear fruit, and the final list of estates to ignore. Their criteria were many, but the most important were size, availability, the amount of work it would take to make them profitable, and the reputations of those who had most recently lived there, as that would give them greater knowledge of how the estates had been managed. When completed, the first list showed a dearth of good prospects, for there were only a few listed thereon.
“Only three estates,” said Bingley with some disgust. “I had hoped we might have more from which to choose.”
“You only need one to stand out,” said Darcy. “If none do, we may extend our efforts further from Pemberley, or investigate some of the estates from the second list. All is not lost, my friend.”
The distracted nod Bingley gave him showed his remaining disappointment, though his cheerful demeanor returned as soon as they investigated some of these properties. At first, the gentleman decided they could look into the possibilities themselves and not involve the ladies, though Bingley claimed he wished to have his wife’s opinion before he could decide. The first two were fair prospects, but not what Darcy would call excellent ones. The last property showed more potential.
“What do you think of Hazelwood, Darcy?”
“It seems to me it matters more what you think, my friend,” observed Darcy.
Bingley’s responding laugh was, as always, infectious. “Yes, I suppose it does. Hazelwood is an excellent investment I should think. There is little that must be done to the house, and what we saw of the grounds seems to be fine. Hazelwood is no Pemberley, but at an income of seven thousand a year, I should think it will provide excellent support for my family.”
“An astute observation, my friend,” replied Darcy. “I knew before we visited that the estate would be sound. The Havershams were an excellent family and cared for the estate well.”
“What happened to them?” asked Bingley with some curiosity.
“The younger son, who inherited when his brother passed of a fever, is much too wild to be an estate manager. Not long after his brother’s death, he departed for the New World, leaving a manager to sell the property for him.”
Bingley met that piece of news with a frown. “I hope he trusts his agent, for that sounds like a risky proposition to me.”
With a nod, Darcy said: “I know the man, and I can vouch for his honesty. Even if he embezzled funds of the sale, I should think Haversham would not care. Last I heard, he had arrived in America and pressed on to the west. How much of the proceeds will ever reach him, I cannot say, but I do not believe he has chosen awry.”
The manner with which Bingley met this news was distracted, for his thoughts had already turned to the estate they had just seen. “What would you say if I wished to return to Hazelwood with Jane?”
“I would say, Bingley, that you are a wise man.” Bingley laughed and Darcy added: “Any man who knows he needs his wife’s opinion to decide a matter of such importance has my respect.”
“Then let us speak to the ladies.”
It was no surprise when the ladies endorsed the plan with great enthusiasm. Mrs. Bingley would wish to know the place she might call home, and her sister was no less eager, given the possibility of living with the Bingleys. As for Georgiana, while she was by no means as excited as either of the other two ladies, she was also not opposed, for as she stated herself: “To go out from time to time is a welcome change from our usual routine.”
As all agreed, Bingley drafted a letter to the manager, asking to see the place again, to which they received an answer at once. Thus, in three days, they departed in Darcy’s carriage early to make it there and back in one day.
The estate was to the east and a little south of Pemberley, skirting even closer to the Peak District than was Darcy’s estate. As they rode, those venerable mounds rose in the distance, their forms becoming ever more distinct to the travelers. The land was gently undulating, as it tended to become closer to the elevations of the peaks, yet it was still fertile, the estates they passed displaying waving fields of grain and woods, trees, and streams aplenty. Darcy had seen this all many times before, and he paid little attention when traveling near his home, its sights well worn and familiar.
What pulled him from his reverie was the sight of Miss Bennet, peering out the window, her eyes fixed on the passing sights, as if she expected them to fade away, never to return if she averted her eyes for even a moment. In her countenance was an almost child-like joy and interest, a clear love for all nature and wonder at the sights before her which could not be found near her home. It awakened in Darcy a longing, though for what he was uncertain. And with it came understanding that though the sights were familiar, to take them for granted and to fail to remember how fortunate he was would be a grave oversight on his part.
“What a beautiful locale this is,” said Miss Bennet with a sigh some time later, pulling her gaze away from the passing scenery. “If I had not already agreed to live with you, Jane, I believe the sight of the peaks alone might have persuaded me.”
“We have not even chosen the estate yet, Lizzy,” replied Jane, watching her sister with knowing fondness.
“Perhaps you have not,” replied Miss Bennet. “But if the estate you choose is anything like what I am seeing now, I
believe I shall be very well pleased.”
“You say this,” said Georgiana, “and yet you have not seen a hundredth of the sights there are to see.”
“And I am well aware of it,” replied Miss Bennet. “That thought makes it all that much more appealing, I assure you.” Miss Bennet turned to Georgiana and said: “You must have some stories to tell of the places you have seen, Georgiana. Are there any near to Pemberley?”
“Yes, many,” said Georgiana. “Dove Dale is lovely, as I am certain you have heard, and it is not far from here.”
“If you recall,” said Darcy, “I promised that there are a dozen places within an easy distance of Pemberley which would take your breath away.”
“I should love to visit them all.” Miss Bennet sighed and then fixed them all with an impish grin. “It is unfortunate this stay will not allow us the opportunity to see all the wonders you may boast. I am certain they must be well hidden, or every traveler who enters Derbyshire will never wish to leave it.”
If you marry me, we shall have a lifetime to visit them all as many times as we wish.
The vehemence of the sudden thought startled Darcy, though he could not deny the sentiments it espoused. To the contrary, it was becoming clearer to him with every passing moment that he was becoming enamored of Miss Bennet, and thoughts like this were becoming more common. Then the memory of his father, tall and stern, rose in Darcy’s mind, and the nascent desires he had begun to espouse faded away like dew on a sunny morning, throwing Darcy into confusion. It was some moments before he could speak again.
“Perhaps we shall leave Dove Dale for another time,” said Georgiana, “though if we wished we could visit it during your stay here.”
“I am at your disposal, Georgiana,” replied Miss Bennet. “I am more than happy to go if you wish, but if not, we shall reserve the pleasure for another time. After all,” Miss Bennet grinned at her sister, “I am to live here, it seems, so there is no rush.”