by Wendi Sotis
If heartbreak such as this was required for an advance of this magnitude, above anything, he wished her technique had remained merely precise instead of saturated with such consuming sorrow.
At first, Darcy could only be content that she finally emerged from her rooms, so he did not dare stop her from practicing during almost every waking hour, thinking that perhaps her music would serve as an outlet for her distraught spirits. But after a full week, the entire household was slipping into a melancholy almost as profound as the one which affected his sister. Not a quarter of an hour ago, Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, informed him that the maid who was dusting in the chamber next to the music room was found sobbing so violently, she was excused from her duties for the remainder of the afternoon.
Additionally, if he did not get a respite from the heart-wrenching melodies that oozed down the corridor and into his study like a dark shadow, the emotional turmoil he had been wrestling to keep under control since the disaster at Ramsgate might end up breaking loose and flowing as freely as the tears that streamed down Georgiana’s cheeks whilst she fingered her ivory keys.
It would not do.
His sister moved to change the sheet music to what he was sure was another doleful piece.
Plastering a smile on his lips, he rose from his seat and stepped toward the pianoforte. “That was masterfully done, Dove.”
Georgiana started.
Had she been so completely lost in her music that she had not noticed him walk in and sit in her direct line of sight?
He cleared his throat. “I was about to ride out to the Johnstons’ farm with the hamper Cook prepared and inquire about those who are ailing. I thought you might wish to come along.”
She frowned slightly. “The Johnstons are ill?”
Darcy blinked. He had spoken to her about the Johnstons’ illness twice this past week. Was she purposely ignoring him, or was she so wholly preoccupied with her own circumstances, she was unaware of anything else?
Breaking her self-imposed hermitage, she had told him he saved her, but since she had left her rooms, she barely spoke to him at all.
Rage, fear, and regret warred in Darcy’s breast. He prayed he would never reencounter Wickham, for he knew not what he would do to the rogue if he did.
If he hunted Wickham down now and beat him to a pulp, would that assist in his sister’s healing?
Probably not.
Darcy swallowed past the lump in his throat. Georgiana had always had such a generous and compassionate heart. Perhaps if he touched upon the right subject, he could make her care about something other than her own unhappiness?
“I happened to see the doctor on the road as he was leaving the Johnstons’ house earlier the morning. Mrs. Johnston and the two eldest boys are improving under the care of Mrs. Johnston’s sister and her husband. Apparently, they were in this area on a pleasure trip with their niece, who is also staying with them.”
Georgiana kept her gaze firmly locked on the pianoforte keys.
As usual these days, Darcy could not stop himself from blathering on about anything and everything to fill the awkward silence between them.
“When Mrs. Johnston first became ill, I authorized one of Pemberley’s kitchen maids to report to their home to help. Cook has also been providing nourishing soups, meats, and cheeses every day. Since the two eldest boys usually take on a great deal of work on the farm, I directed Roger from the stables to work with Mr. Johnston. You may remember that Roger will marry next month. Recently, he expressed a wish to lease the next tenant farm that becomes available. Since he has been working in the stables for the past five years, I thought helping Johnston might be good for him to refresh his memory about farming. The arrangement should benefit all those concerned.”
Still, there was no comment from his sister.
“It is my understanding the Johnstons’ relations are from London. They are in trade, but successful enough to keep a full staff of servants. The niece is a gentlewoman. Mr. Johnston has expressed a great deal of appreciation for our providing assistance since none of their guests are used to the labour of farming or keeping house themselves.”
Georgiana nodded.
There! A reaction of some kind.
Darcy sighed quietly. Would she have been further along in her healing if he had not been so indulgent, allowing her to hide in her rooms and behind the pianoforte? Had he insisted she go over the menus with Mrs. Reynolds, or required that she make up the baskets for the Johnstons instead of having Cook do it, mayhap she would have recovered by now?
He forced a bit of command into his tone. “Change into your riding habit, Ana. I will meet you at the front door in half an hour.”
“Yes, Brother.” She rose from the bench and left the room, all the while keeping her eyes focused on the carpet.
Darcy ran a trembling hand through his hair and climbed the stairs to his own rooms to change.
There was no way of knowing what to try with her next.
It was a good possibility that if their cousin Richard had not been required to return to duty so soon, Georgiana would be restored to her usual self by now. Even when their father died, their cousin had been able to make her smile.
Perhaps a companion would know what to do, but following their departure from Ramsgate, during their brief stay in London, Richard assisted him in interviewing for a new companion for his sister. They could not find anyone with satisfactory references. The Darcy siblings were on their own.
Darcy hesitated on the landing between staircases.
He felt like a fish thrashing about on the shore — expending a great deal of energy but accomplishing nothing.
Frustration fueled him to take the remainder of the steps two at a time.
When they returned from their outing, he would write to Richard. It would be admitting his failure, but Georgiana’s well-being was more important than his own pride. Although their cousin could not join them here at Pemberley, maybe he would have some ideas as to what Darcy could do to break her from this sulk.
A few minutes later, he and his sister were riding across the estate towards the Johnstons’ farm. Georgiana urged her horse slightly ahead, almost as if she wished to imagine she was riding alone. A few long locks of her golden hair escaped their pins and trailed behind her like flags blowing in the breeze.
As they rode on, he could almost see her sorrow melt away, and Darcy breathed easier.
When she halted to allow him to open a gate between their sheep’s grazing pastures, he noticed her shoulders were not hunched as they had been of late. She held her head high instead of bowed. After a time, her furrowed brow smoothed, and colour bloomed in her cheeks. Georgiana directed her horse to jump a small stream, and a trace of a smile appeared on her lips.
As the Johnstons’ farmhouse came into view, they slowed, and Darcy pulled up alongside her.
“Would you like to ride every day, Ana? If the weather allows, of course.”
For the first time this week, she met his gaze.
Why had he not thought of riding sooner?
She nodded. “But, I should not like to take you from your work to ride out with me every day, Brother.”
Mentally, he sorted through a list of servants who could accompany her. Jimmy from the stables would probably suit the purpose best. Not yet twelve, he would be no threat to her, but he knew his way around Pemberley and handled horses well. He was from a trustworthy family who were tenants of the estate, and he was a hard worker. It would be a useful experience for them both.
“Would you feel comfortable taking Jimmy Craden with you?”
“Yes.” Her eyes brightened. “May I take luncheon with me? I would like to stop for a time and make some drawings of nature, as I used to do when I was younger.”
She was suggesting yet another cheerful occupation? “An excellent idea.”
Her brow furrowed. “You seem tired.”
Tired? He almost laughed. He had never been this exhausted in all his life.
/>
Ever since Ramsgate, any slumber he could manage was disturbed by nightmares. These horrid dreams acted out his worst fears, alternating between his inadequate attempts to act as guardian for his sister in a hundred different situations, and an old fear: his abilities falling short of the expectations of all those who depended upon his estates. It did not help that his lack of sleep and the constant worry about Georgiana ate away at his concentration to the point where making critical business decisions was taking much longer to accomplish than it should. His work was piling up, compounding the second fear, and making it more likely to become a reality.
“Do not concern yourself with me. Once you are recovered, I will be well.”
“Truly?” His sister’s colour rose. She looked down at her gloved hands, blinked several times, and looked at him again. “Then, I will make more of an effort to be well again.”
Warmth flooded through Darcy’s chest. “I am pleased to hear it, Dove.”
The focus of Georgiana’s eyes moved to a distant point past him.
Darcy turned toward where she looked. A woman was walking away from them, but close enough for Darcy to note the style of her clothing and bonnet, which marked her as a lady.
He shook his head. Although Pemberley was as safe as could be expected, he would never allow his sister to walk out alone. “I have heard the niece of Mrs. Johnston’s sister is a gentleman’s daughter. I cannot imagine it could be anyone else.”
Georgiana nodded as she continued to eye the stranger with an almost wistful expression.
Was his sister disappointed she would not have a chance to meet the visitor? The lady must not be of the first circles, for he knew no one who would agree to reside at tenant farm, even temporarily. But if his sister was interested in striking up an acquaintance with the lady, and if he deemed her an appropriate companion, he would permit it. It would be another step towards her recovery.
One of the Johnston daughters, who was hanging clothes to dry, called out a greeting, waved, and ran off towards the house.
Darcy dismounted, helped Georgiana from her horse, and unhooked the hamper from his saddle.
A woman a few years older than himself exited the building and advanced. With a curtsy, she introduced herself, “Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, thank you for coming. I am Mrs. Johnston’s sister, Mrs. Gardiner.”
CHAPTER 5
~ Ten days later, 9 August 1811
Elizabeth’s pace quickened as she neared one of her favourite places in the woods surrounding the Johnstons’ farm. Following a turn in the path and entering a clearing, she stopped short. A young lady sat bent over a sketch pad on the bank of a stream.
The girl did not react at all to her appearance, but her horse lifted its head. With a twitch of its ear, it must have determined Elizabeth was not a threat, for it quickly returned to munching on grass.
The young lady wore a hunter-green riding habit and derby much more elegant than any Elizabeth had ever seen. It was apparent she was the daughter of a wealthy estate owner, if one was to judge by the material and cut of her clothing.
Most ladies, other than herself, of course, would never leave their homes without an escort. Elizabeth’s mother made a fuss about it at times, but she put up with Elizabeth’s behaviour on their own estate only because she had her father’s permission. If her mother knew she was doing the same here, she would have a fit of nerves so great, she might never recover. Meanwhile, since the Gardiners’ maid and valet were helping with housework and there were no other servants available to accompany her, her aunt and uncle allowed her to walk out alone.
The circumstances were what they were. They could only do their best.
But the fact that this young lady was sitting alone was curious.
Since the girl’s attention seemed deeply fixed on her artwork, Elizabeth feared she would startle her. She wandered upstream a few steps and approached from that direction, even purposely stepping on a couple of twigs to announce her arrival. “Good afternoon.”
The young lady almost jumped from her skin.
Elizabeth cringed. “Oh! I did not mean to frighten you.”
The girl straightened her spine to sit in a more ladylike position. Her smile did not show in her eyes; in fact, Elizabeth felt they even held a touch of sorrow.
“I did not notice you there,” she said quietly. “Good afternoon.”
As Elizabeth drew closer, she realised the young lady was a few years younger than herself.
Elizabeth curtsied. “I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“I am… Ana.” The girl bowed her head instead of getting up and curtsying, then pointed to something on her sketch pad. “Perhaps you can help me. Do you know what this plant is called?”
Elizabeth stepped closer to peek at the sketch, then she looked around the scene to find what the girl was drawing — a pretty pink flower grouping, high on a tall stem. “Ah, that is a flowering rush, I believe.”
“Oh! The plant looks so different when dried.” The girl took a book from her blanket and flipped through the pages. She nodded. “It has no medicinal uses as far as I can tell.”
“But I believe it attracts butterflies. Dragonflies lay their eggs on the stems.”
“It seems I asked the correct person.” The girl’s smile was more genuine than before. “You know much about this plant.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I love nature and spend time in it as much as possible.”
“I do, as well.” Ana added almost under her breath, “Whenever I am able.”
Ana checked a watch brooch pinned near her left shoulder. Her eyes widened.
She rose and folded her things into the blanket. “I apologize for leaving so soon after making your acquaintance, but I must return home.”
Ana rushed over to her horse.
Elizabeth helped her fit the blanket into a large saddlebag.
Ana turned to Elizabeth. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Bennet.”
“And you, Miss…”
The young lady coloured before saying, “Call me Ana, if you please.”
“Then, I insist you call me Elizabeth — or Lizzy if you would like.”
The girl’s smile was a little brighter this time. “I will.” She turned to face her horse and spun back again. “Do you come here often, Lizzy?”
“Whenever the weather allows, I walk at about this time of day. I come to this spot first, since it is so lovely, then I have been exploring in a different direction each day.”
Ana furrowed her brow. “Where are you staying? At the inn at Lambton? At one of the nearby estates?”
“Actually, I am staying at the Johnstons’ farm… about half a mile in that direction.” She gestured. “It is a tenant farm on the outskirts of the Pemberley estate.”
Ana’s eyes widened. “But—” She glanced at Elizabeth’s gown and bit her bottom lip.
Elizabeth knew a tenant farmer’s daughter would not be able to afford the quality of fabric a gentleman’s daughter would use for her gowns. She wondered if the girl was not permitted to speak to those of classes lower than her family. It would explain why she seemed a bit nervous now.
“My father’s estate is in Hertfordshire. Mrs. Johnston is a half-sister to my uncle’s wife. We were headed for the Lakes for a holiday, but our trip was interrupted when we heard the family was ill.”
“Oh.”
A boy, dressed in clothing of the sort Elizabeth would expect a stable-boy to wear, rode a pony to the top of a small hill on the other side of the stream, where he stopped and stared at them.
Elizabeth moved to hold the horse’s bridle while Ana used a fallen log to mount. What a beautiful animal — obviously, it was of the best pedigree.
“Goodbye, Lizzy.” Ana circled her horse back around to face Elizabeth again. “Perhaps I will see you soon.”
“I will look forward to meeting you again,” Elizabeth answered.
Ana seemed to be debating whether to say something else, but she must have decided not to. She tu
rned her horse and rode north along the stream bank. The boy mirrored her progress until Ana crossed over the stream. As Ana disappeared over the hill, the boy looked back at Elizabeth before following.
The situation seemed odd, but who was she to judge? Here she was, alone, walking about on an estate belonging to a family that she had never met.
Elizabeth shrugged and looked around her. After checking the compass that she always carried with her while hiking, she set off towards the east to explore.
~ One week later, 16 August 1811
Darcy glanced at the hall clock. He was early, and he knew how most ladies were annoyed when a gentleman called ahead of schedule, even Georgiana. Deciding to wait ten minutes instead of inconveniencing his sister, he strolled to the end of the hall to gaze out the window.
The gardens in bloom reminded him of his sister’s latest drawings, making him smile.
Thank the good Lord, between riding and drawing, she was beginning to come out of her shell.
She was truly gifted at art, and she enjoyed the pastime, making it even more rewarding for him to observe her progress.
Georgiana’s new routine consisted of breaking her fast with him, going over the menus for the day with Mrs. Reynolds, then practicing the pianoforte. When the weather allowed, she would ride with Jimmy, bringing along a mid-day meal to nibble on as she began sketching whatever nature she found to draw. When she returned, she would work on her drawings until it was time to dress for the evening meal, after which she would play for him.
Every day she seemed to be growing closer to her former self. Even her choice of music was becoming more optimistic, especially in the last few days.
The clock chimed, and he headed back down the corridor towards her rooms. As he raised his hand to knock, the door opened.
Georgiana laughed!
Joy filled his soul. He tamped down the urge to pick her up and swing her around like he used to do when she was a little girl. Instead, he held out his arm, happy when she took it without hesitation.