From Admiration to Matrimony

by APRIL FLOYD

  From Admiration to Matrimony

  APRIL FLOYD

  Copyright © 2017 by APRIL FLOYD

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Introduction

  I. From Admiration to Love

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  II. From Love to Matrimony

  Prologue

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Also by April Floyd

  About the Author

  Introduction

  This title contains the combined books that were once sold as From Admiration to Love and From Love to Matrimony.

  This is one of my favorite variations because of the fast pace and the story that carries from the friendship between Lady Anne and Elizabeth to the vindication of Anne de Bourgh at Rosings.

  * * *

  “A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.” - Jane Austen

  Part I

  From Admiration to Love

  Prologue

  Elizabeth Bennet roamed the woods near Brambling Hall and came out upon the road that led to Pemberley. Although her sister had married Charles Bingley, a close friend of the master of Pemberley, she had never been a guest inside the great home. She wished and hoped to become one before long, as Charles Bingley had purchased Brambling Hall on Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s recommendation.

  Mr. Darcy was now a shadow of the man she had met at Netherfield all those months ago. His mother had taken to her rooms after the family’s great loss and Mr. Darcy appeared haggard from the constant travel from Pemberley to London and back again.

  Before the death of his sister, Georgiana Darcy, Elizabeth found him to be a proud, reserved man, but he had walked with her once in the garden at Longbourn and asked her to dance during a party at Lucas Lodge. After several misunderstandings facilitated by her pride and his prejudice, Elizabeth admitted to herself here was a man she might find her equal in wit and intellect.

  But he left Hertfordshire weeks after her sister Jane had married Charles Bingley due to the untimely demise of his dear sister. Elizabeth had not seen him since, only his profile in a carriage or what she assumed to be him upon horseback riding as though the devil was behind him over the fields of Pemberley.

  She paused at the rise of a hill overlooking the great house and sighed. When first they met Mr. Darcy, her mother had made a fuss over his ten thousand only to abuse him later for his proud manner, but Elizabeth could not have imagined the jewel that sat before her now. The house gleamed richly in the sun and the lake before it enchanted her.

  Brambling Hall was divine, and her room there took her breath. Still, the whole of the house with all its splendor could not match Pemberley from without and she imagined certainly not from within.

  She wore a mischievous smile and set her feet toward Pemberley. It was unlikely Mr. Darcy was home, for Jane told her the day before during tea he was in London. She was certain his whereabouts was the reason Caroline Bingley had given to refuse a visit to Brambling Hall.

  Elizabeth was pleased to know Miss Bingley preferred London to the countryside and hoped it would always remain so. With the woman’s vehement dislike of the Bennet sisters, Elizabeth doubted she would visit more than once or twice a year.

  Her life at Brambling Hall provided her with all she required, between the library and the varied woods and hills for her daily exploration.

  Elizabeth’s mind wondered at the Lady Anne Darcy closed away in such a fine prison. Ghosts of her daughter must appear in every shadow of the evening, in the empty chair at the dining table, in the cup missing during tea.

  Elizabeth could not imagine the sadness and quiet that must pervade the woman’s rooms. At her home in Hertfordshire, there was never a quiet moment, never an empty seat. Tragedy was unknown to her at the age of not quite twenty and one.

  The surface of the lake before the house glittered in the late afternoon sun and Elizabeth wandered to its edge. She lifted her skirt, longing to cool her feet in the shallow water’s edge. Glancing about and finding no sign of life, she bent to remove her shoes.

  The water was warm and the bottom of the lake as smooth as the surface. Lifting her skirts higher, she splashed the water with much satisfaction moving farther from the bank.

  She spun round, happy and carefree with a view of the great house meeting her at each graceful turn. Elizabeth stopped to regain her balance, her head spinning. One step and her foot became tangled in an unseen snag.

  Elizabeth threw her arms out to steady herself but the motion pitched her to her side. She landed with a great splash, gasping and clutching at the water.

  Though the day was warm, the water was cooler in the deeper reaches and it took her breath and weighted her skirts in moments.

  She sat shocked at her present state of being, mortified that she must return to Brambling Hall as a wayward child, her skirts sodden and soaked to her skin.

  She attempted to free herself from her watery seat; her face coloring as she struggled with her now heavy skirts. The shadow of the great house moved across the lake and she cursed her own folly. Thoughts of her failure to learn to ride came unbidden to her mind. A horse would be a welcome companion in her current predicament.

  As Elizabeth struggled to escape the lake, a figure moved with haste and purpose inside Pemberley. Lady Anne shouted for help and no less than three maids and a footman came running with the butler. “There is a young lady in our lake! We must see that she is safely removed!”

  Lady Anne shouted her warning and kept pace with the butler. He flung open the front door, aghast at the sight before him. There was indeed a young woman in the lake determined to crawl on her hands and knees to escape the chill waters.

  Lady Anne hurried behind her footman as the man dashed to Elizabeth’s aid. The butler caught Lady Anne up and stopped her before she entered the lake herself. “My Ladyship, you must not!”

  Lady Anne turned to him, her face gone pale with worry.

  Elizabeth was mortified as the footman fished her from the lake and helped her stand on the bank alongside Lady Anne and the butler. The maids had stopped at the door, their number growing as word spread throughout the great house of their visitor.

  Lady Anne rushed to Elizabeth’s side. “My dear, are you well? How have you come to such calamity?”

  Elizabeth gazed upon the lady’s face with awe and not a little shame. Her body shook from the chill of the water but her face remained a bright crimson.

  Lady Anne took Elizabeth’s arm and led her past the curious butler and footman. “Come, dear. We must see to your clothing. I
cannot abide for a young lady to come to harm at Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth nodded and bit her bottom lip to stop the tears that threatened. She was grateful Mr. Darcy was absent, for she was sure he would find her behavior most outrageous. His mother appeared not the least surprised at her trespassing and resulting quandary.

  Elizabeth stopped to wring out her skirts before entering the grand house but Lady Anne urged her forward. “Have not a care. The maids shall draw a hot bath. I will await your return in the parlor.”

  Lady Anne had her own maid take Elizabeth upstairs to the bedroom adorned with rose paper that reminded her of Elizabeth’s complexion. “See she is bathed and dressed in good order, Wells. You may search my closet for a lovely gown for the young lady.”

  Elizabeth smiled at the graceful woman before her and murmured her thanks. She lowered her lashes in a bout of uncustomary shyness. The Lady Anne was a most handsome woman and Elizabeth imagined Georgiana must have been as lovely as her mother.

  Elizabeth hoped Mr. Darcy would not be given the news of her unsettling adventure, for she was certain there had never been a young woman found floundering in their lake. She vowed to keep to the grounds of Brambling Hall in future excursions.

  The maid led her up the stairs and Elizabeth admired the great paintings they passed in the hallway. A young lady, with hair the color of Jane’s, smiled down at her and Elizabeth was certain it must be Georgiana. The next was a lovely portrait of Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne with the girl in the first painting and an older gentleman who must have been George Darcy.

  The love of the family in the portrait shone through the brush strokes and Elizabeth clutched at her heart as she hurried behind the maid. Mr. Darcy had been happy once, as had his mother. She ached for their losses. A sharp pain took her breath as she recalled the whispered rumors. Jane was certain Miss Darcy had met a terrible end. It was thought to be too much laudanum.

  The maid cleared her throat as she stopped before a door along the hallway. “This is the room her ladyship recommended, miss.”

  Elizabeth entered the room, her eyes wandering from the lovely ornamental design of the fireplace mantel to the exquisite pale yellow silk that adorned the bed and then the soft blush rose pattern of the paper on the walls.

  Wells opened an adjoining door and two maids from below stairs were pouring steaming water into the bath. Elizabeth went to stand by the fireplace as Wells approached her. “Shall I help you, miss?”

  Elizabeth nodded and allowed the maid to help her undress. She gave Elizabeth a sheet and sent her ruined clothing downstairs with one of the younger maids. “I shall do as her ladyship bids and return with a gown from her closet. Betsy, here, will see to your bath.”

  Wells left and Betsy beckoned Elizabeth forward. “Come miss, we cannot have you shivering as you are. Her ladyship would be most displeased to find you standing round in only a sheet.”

  Elizabeth smiled at Betsy and stuck a toe into the gloriously warm water. Her favorite scent, lavender, greeted her as she sunk gratefully into the water. If heaven were on earth, Pemberley was certainly as close as she had come.

  Chapter 1

  Not an hour later, Elizabeth followed Wells downstairs to the parlor. Her hair was swept up and secured with the loveliest pins Elizabeth had ever seen. They were a pale blue representation of roses that complemented the darling blue silk dress the maid had chosen for her.

  She was surprised not by the style of the dress but by how well it fit her person. When Elizabeth thought for a moment, she supposed she and Lady Anne were of a similar form.

  Her eye was drawn below by the large round table in the entry which held a heavenly array of the loveliest blooms she had ever beheld. Elizabeth allowed her mind to wander. Glancing about, she imagined there were guests waiting to meet her, the new mistress of Pemberley. She smiled as her steps became lighter in the lovely satin slippers upon her feet.

  Her dreams of Mr. Darcy were never so bold as they had been once she had come to Brambling Hall. Being near to the man must have increased her longing for him and his fine handsome house. That she might one day call this wonderful house her home was a dream she held as a secret, even from Jane.

  Elizabeth recalled the unfortunate business of the entailment of Longbourn and their cousin, William Collins. She was pleased to be far from the argument which would ensue should he choose one of her younger sisters as his bride. Their mother was most pleased with Jane and her match and hoped for Elizabeth to catch Mr. Darcy’s eye. But if she did not, Elizabeth was certain her mother would give her to Mr. Collins to marry. She shook thoughts of that situation away and allowed her eyes to feast on the beauty that was Pemberley.

  Wells led her to the parlor and Elizabeth cleared her mind again of all the thoughts flitting about as birds in a cage, their wings weary of their prison.

  She smiled and nodded to Lady Anne as she entered the room, keeping her eyes on the woman and not upon the furnishings, though tempting they were. Tea arrived and Elizabeth sat across from Lady Anne by the fireplace.

  “My dear, you bring such graceful beauty to the dress. I have not worn it since I was your age, I daresay.”

  Elizabeth released the breath she held and gave one of her infectious smiles to the woman. “It is the loveliest dress I have ever worn. I am most grateful for your thoughtful hospitality, Lady Anne.” Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair as the lady took her hand.

  “I am at a disadvantage, I fear. You well know my identity and yet, I know you not. I have seen you walking the property of Brambling Hall where it joins Pemberley and hoped you might venture closer, but not into the lake, my dear! Your name, please?”

  “Elizabeth Bennet, your ladyship, I am from Hertfordshire but live at Brambling Hall with my sister and brother, Jane and Charles Bingley.”

  The woman nodded and her eyes became distant as though she had just remembered the name Bingley. “Why yes, he is a particular friend of my son William. How wonderful he has settled near Pemberley.”

  “Speaking of Mr. Darcy, is he expected home soon?” Elizabeth asked as she took the cup the maid offered.

  Lady Anne smiled weakly and Elizabeth feared the woman might weep at any moment. “He has gone to Town for business once more, I fear. This house once held precious memories but has become our grave.”

  Elizabeth trembled, for the woman's grief was palpable. Lady Anne placed her cup upon the small table between them with shaking hands and sighed a heartbreaking sound that caused Elizabeth to kneel before her and take her into her arms. She rocked the great woman gently and smoothed her hair.

  Elizabeth suddenly understood the shadow Mr. Darcy had become. His sister lie beneath the cold ground and his mother lie above, her life taken as surely as Georgiana’s.

  She stayed past tea time and helped Lady Anne to her rooms. She got her into bed and read to her until the woman called for her evening tea, given with laudanum no doubt. “Please stay Miss Bennet. I cannot bear another night alone. I shall have a footman return to Brambling Hall in your stead with an explanation for your sister.”

  Elizabeth would not abandon the woman and so she nodded her consent and continued reading until Mr. Darcy’s mother fell into a deep sleep.

  As the morning dawned, Elizabeth stretched in the chair beside Lady Anne’s bed. The book in her lap slid to the floor, and she bent to retrieve it. Her stomach rumbled, and she placed a hand there in apology as she rose and met the piercing blue eyes of her hostess.

  “Miss Bennet, have you sat there the whole of the night? You ought to have left me and gone to your room and sought your slumber, dear.”

  Elizabeth stared for a moment before she smiled at Lady Anne. “You were so kind and helpful yesterday. I wanted to repay your generosity.”

  Elizabeth opened the book where she had left off but Lady Anne yawned and stretched in her bed. “I am famished this morning. Would you break fast with me?”

  Elizabeth nodded and rose to place the leather-bound book in her s
eat. “Shall I call for Wells?” she asked.

  Lady Anne smiled at her, and Elizabeth rushed to her side. Plainly, the charm of the man she admired had come from his mother. “Would you mind helping me instead? Wells will enjoy a morning to herself and I find myself well pleased with your company.”

  Elizabeth took her hand and helped her from the bed. “It will be my pleasure. Shall I ring for the bath?”

  Living at Longbourn, Elizabeth was accustomed to sharing their one maid with the ladies of her home, so Lady Anne’s request was quite reasonable to her.

  Lady Anne nodded and Elizabeth arranged her morning ritual and sat her before the closets as they chose her outfit for the morning. For Elizabeth, it was a quiet, precious time. There was no screaming of her sisters, no chatter from her mother, and no rush of six ladies in the stirring of a house come the morning. Lady Anne chose a claret silk gown and Elizabeth helped her undress for the bath.

  “We shall be ready for the morning meal soon, my dear. You may wish to freshen up in your room and meet me here before we go down to the breakfast parlor together.”

  She embraced Elizabeth before following the maid into the bath. Elizabeth made her way from Lady Anne’s rooms to her own, farther along the hallway. She thought she heard the faint sound of voices downstairs. In a house this grand, it must be the servants preparing the house for the day ahead.