The Snowy Road to Pemberley

by Katie Bright

  “At chopping wood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not?”

  She walked over and took the axe from him. It was heavier than she had thought. Darcy placed a lump of wood on the block. Lifting up the axe she swung it down and it stuck in the wood.

  “Here, let me show you.”

  Darcy hit the lump of wood against the block and it gave in two. Then he put a fresh piece down for her on the block.

  “Take off your gloves, you’ll get a better grip.”

  Elizabeth took off her gloves and put them in her pockets. Darcy handed her the axe again and she held it in her hands.

  “Not like that, here,” he said as he came behind her and put his arms around her until he held the axe too.

  His lips were next to her ear, even the smallest of breaths distracted her, sending shivers across her body. It was going to be very hard to concentrate like this.

  “Don’t lift the axe, swing it. Let the weight of it work for you, not against you. When you go to strike the wood, grip the handle with one hand and let the other slide down to meet it. It’s like the test your strength machines at the fun fair.”

  “Oh, I see,” she replied.

  With Darcy’s help and guidance, she lifted the axe and it swung down and chopped the wood clean in two. She turned to smile at him their lips barely a breath apart. Darcy moved towards her slowly as their lips started to touch.

  “Phone call for you, Georgiana’s on the phone,” Mr Reynolds interrupted them.

  “I’ll be there now,” Darcy replied as he let her out of his arms.

  Elizabeth picked up another lump of wood and chopped it. There were times when she wished Mr Bell hadn’t invented the telephone and had thought of something else to do with his spare time instead.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cocoa and Memories

  After dinner that evening Elizabeth started to look through the paperwork for Pemberley. There were reams of it dating back decades, but what she wanted was really in the last few years. She easily found the information pertaining to Pemberley’s dwindling funds and its list of outgoings. Darcy hadn’t lied when he said that he was just putting off the inevitable. At this rate, he would be forced to sell by the end of the year.

  “You won’t find a way to save it in there,” he said as he passed her a cup of cocoa.

  “I don’t expect to. I just want the facts of the case,” she replied.

  “Well, why not just ask me? I know all the facts. Plus, you can cut my hair whilst we talk. Can you cut it dry or do I need to wet it?”

  “I can cut it dry, but what scissors do you have?”

  Darcy went to the kitchen drawer and took out several pairs and held each of them up. Elizabeth pointed to a pair of long thin nosed scissors and then tried them out on a lock of her own. Darcy picked it up and looked at it, then he quickly put it in one of the envelopes on the table before she noticed.

  “They’ll do,” she said as she took a sip of her cocoa.

  She got out of her chair and sat it under the light.

  “Finish your cocoa first,” he insisted.

  “I can sip and snip. I just need my victim to sit here, you’ll have to have a tea towel over you.”

  Darcy finished his cocoa and took off his jumper. He unbuttoned his shirt until the collar was loose and sat down in the chair in front of her. Elizabeth tucked the tea towel into his collar.

  “Oh, I need a comb.”

  “There is a new one in the draw the scissors were in,” he replied.

  Elizabeth retrieved the comb and started to comb through his hair. When she was satisfied, she made her first cut and watched his hair tumble to the floor.

  “I didn’t know that you could cut hair,” he remarked.

  “I once had a Saturday job in Meryton, a long time ago.”

  “Not the Merry Mutts Pet Salon just down from the pub?” he asked.

  “Oh, you know it. I can shampoo and set a poodle in under ten minutes so you should be a doddle,” she replied with a giggle as she took another snip.

  “Distract me from your snipping and ask me a question. I told you I know all the paperwork.”

  “Alright, so you’re cash poor but asset rich, can’t you sell something off to help tide you over?”

  “No, there is a covenant on Pemberley which my grandfather in his questionable wisdom bestowed. He was fed up of seeing family estates being auctioned off piece by piece. So, he stated in his will that whoever inherits Pemberley must sell it as a whole, or not at all. The only thing I can sell is anything I’ve put into the house myself. Unfortunately, I never had the money to buy a Rembrandt or a Monet.”

  “I see.”

  “Not that I would sell anything off. Pemberley is like a jigsaw, it wouldn’t be complete if you started to take a few pieces away.”

  She could understand his train of thought. Sell a few paintings or a few acres and suddenly what you were so desperately trying to save no longer existed. Elizabeth blew a few of the stray strands away from his neck, causing him to stiffen in his seat.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  “Fine,” he replied. “So, have you had any ideas?”

  “A few, but I’ll keep them to myself until they become more solid.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “It must have been a lot of work?”

  “What was?”

  “Restoring the carriage.”

  “Oh, that,” he said. “Well, Mr and Mrs Reynolds have done so much for Pemberley and my family over the years. It was the least I could do really.”

  “What about the horses? I mean you haven’t checked on any in the stables and it’s too cold to have them out in this weather.”

  “They live up on the farm with Miss Reynolds or Mrs Oliver as she is now. They run a riding stable there, but part of their income comes from stabling other people’s horses. So, I thought it would give them some work to start them off.”

  “Where did they get married? Was it in Lambton?”

  “No, they got married on the estate. We have a church that was always used by the family and the workers, it’s not a private chapel, we may maintain it, but it is free for all to use. It still is, although it only sees a service held there once a month. Our vicar, Miss Austen, has three other parishes to cover including Lambton. The turnout is not what it used to be.”

  “Don’t you attend?”

  “When I can. My mother and father used to go every Sunday no matter where the service was held,” he replied.

  “Is that where your parents are buried?”

  He was silent for a moment and she wondered if she had asked one question too many. She couldn’t imagine losing her parents. For all their faults, the thought of not being able to pick up the phone and hear their voices saddened her.

  “Yes, they are. My mother always said it was the most beautiful spot in Pemberley because everyone there is at peace and reunited with those that they love. I never understood what she meant as a child. But when I was older, I wandered up there and looked at the headstones. Amongst all the tragedy of death, I saw the love and devotion there too. So, when they were taken away from Georgiana and I too soon, at least I knew that they were together. Although what they would think about how I was running this place I don’t know.”

  “I’m sure even your father must have had his struggles holding on to the place?”

  “He did and he was so determined that we shouldn’t have to struggle the same way. I’ll take you up there tomorrow if you like. All the Darcys are buried up there. No large tombs, just simple graves. It seems that even my oldest ancestors were happy to lay in the soil amongst the people who toiled for them.”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Nonsense, it’s good to talk about them, it keeps them alive. The hardest thing is to know that they will never see Georgiana married, never hold a grandchild i
n their arms. But I’m maudlin, now what else did you want to know?”

  “It can wait until the morning,” she replied. “There, I’m finished.”

  She took the towel from his neck and blew the stray hairs away. Some of the more stubborn ones she flicked away with her fingertips, gently running them across the skin of his neck. He seemed to relax under her touch.

  “I’ll just get a dustpan and brush to sweep this up,” Elizabeth said as Darcy got up from the chair.

  He looked at his reflection in the small mirror on the wall.

  “You know you’ve made a rod for your own back doing this,” he stated. “Mrs Reynolds will expect you to trim her husband next.”

  “I don’t mind,” she replied as she finished sweeping up.

  “Do you want another cocoa?” he asked.

  “No thanks.”

  “Well, if you don’t want me for anything, I think I’ll have a shower before bed. Thank you Elizabeth, not just for the haircut, but for coming to see us.”

  “What are friends for?” she smiled.

  “Indeed, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight Darcy,” she said.

  She watched him head towards his rooms, and wondered if they were just friends, or did Darcy see them as something more?

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kisses and Promises

  The housekeeper’s room was surprisingly warm now it had a working fireplace. It was cosy and small and reminded Elizabeth of her grandmother’s snug where she would sit and watch her knit for hours. She had spent an hour or so before she went to sleep making notes and reading through Pemberley’s paperwork until she was in possession of all the facts and figures she needed. As she lay down on the sofa and watched the glow of the fire, she thought that her plan might just work with a little help.

  The next morning, she was up with the lark and on the telephone. Although there were many places she needed to call, she knew that some people she wanted to speak to were best caught before they went to work. She knew that Mrs Reynolds would be over by nine and if she was quiet, she wouldn’t disturb Darcy in his room.

  She dialled the number and waited for the phone to ring. A few seconds later someone picked up the other end.

  “The Parsonage,” came the voice.

  “Charlotte, it’s Lizzy.”

  “Lizzy, how are you?” Charlotte asked.

  “I’m fine, sorry to phone you so early but I wanted to pick your brains,” she explained.

  “Pick away, oh hold on…Lizzy’s on the phone…alright, I’ll tell her. Bill sends his love,” Charlotte giggled. “Now what is it?”

  “Well, it’s quite a list really.”

  “Then start from the top Lizzy and we’ll go from there.”

  Charlotte had been helpful as always. Their conversation was helping everything come together, but she’d need to call others too. After she had finished with Charlotte Collins, she made several other calls. Jane and Charles seemed more than willing to help, whilst her Uncle Edward Gardiner was keen to learn more as was her Aunt Millicent. He had even hinted that Uncle Philips could help her arrange some things too. Next was a call to Georgiana which was the most important of all.

  “So, what do you think?” Elizabeth asked her.

  “I think you’re a genius,” Georgiana replied.

  “But do you think your brother will go for the idea?”

  “He’s a fool if he doesn’t, and your forgetting Pemberley is half mine too. I get as much of a say in it as he does, and it means that I could come home,” she said. “Now, you’ll need to ring Mr Thomas in the parish council, he might have the information you need. Then there is Mrs Swan in the county council, Mrs Reynolds will have all the numbers, she even knows Mrs Swan’s mother which may be helpful. There is a local phone directory in one of the kitchen drawers that might help you and I’ll see what I can do down here.”

  “Ok, I’ll get on with that. I’ve got to phone the vicar Austen next,” Elizabeth explained.

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll help. Thank you Elizabeth, for doing all of this.”

  “No thanks are necessary. I should never have lost touch.”

  “It’s hardly your fault. Do you know yesterday when I called was the first time he sounded like his old self in a long while. That is all because of you. Keep up the good work and I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “See you soon Georgiana.”

  “Bye Elizabeth.”

  In the other room she could hear movement, then suddenly Darcy appeared in the doorway dressed in a t-shirt, pyjama bottoms and his open dressing gown whose belt trailed on the floor behind him. He stood there rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning loudly as he stretched his arms.

  “Oh Elizabeth,” he said as he quickly tried to close his dressing gown. “I had no idea that you were up. You must have been up early,” he remarked.

  “I was, and please don’t bother with your dressing gown. We went swimming once remember. And you’re practically fully dressed as it is,” she said as he continued to struggle to find the other end of his belt.

  “Sorry. Would you like some coffee? I could put the pot on.”

  “No thanks, I’m fine for now. The snow has melted a little I see.”

  “Melted, really?” Darcy went to the kitchen window and looked out. “At last, I’ve been waiting for this. I’ll get dressed quickly, get your coat and things on.”

  “Why? I’ve got calls to make.”

  “Don’t ask why, you can make them later. Just wrap up warm, or we might miss it.”

  “Miss what?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Soon after Darcy had dressed, they were walking across the courtyard passing the Reynolds’ house. Mrs Reynolds opened the front door and called after them.

  “And where are you going in such a hurry?” she asked.

  “The Willow Walk,” Darcy replied.

  “Oh, I see. Well mind how you go, I’ll have some porridge waiting for you when you get back. It’ll warm you right up.”

  Darcy waved as they headed on up the lane beyond the house.

  “I thought we were going up to the church today,” Elizabeth stated.

  “We’ll do that later. Is the pace too fast?” he asked.

  “No, the snow isn’t so deep here.”

  “It might be further up, here, take my hand,” he said holding out his hand to her.

  Elizabeth took it gladly as they climbed the hill and headed off the path and through the trees.

  The sky was a powder blue above them with no signs of clouds to come. Bare branches crisscrossed overhead as they made their way further into the parkland. The going here was harder, the snow was deeper and on more than one occasion Elizabeth slipped or got stuck.

  “Are you alright?” Darcy asked.

  “I can’t move,” she replied. “My boot won’t come.”

  Darcy felt around her ankle and loosened the snow.

  “Hold onto my shoulders, I’m going to try and pull it free.”

  Elizabeth held onto him as he started to tug at her leg with little effect. He pulled again, but it still didn’t work. Then suddenly he lifted her up freeing her leg, but the sudden release caused them both to tip backwards and fall onto the snow. They laughed as Elizabeth landed on top of Darcy, her gloved hands against his chest, their cloud-like breath mingling between them. His hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her face before it cupped her cheek more gently. Then Darcy closed the distance between them and kissed her.

  His kiss was gentle and tentative at first, but as Elizabeth responded to his touch it became more fervent. His kisses were passionate and teasing, as they rolled in the snow until Darcy was on top of her. He took his own weight on his hands on either side of her head. But as Elizabeth’s arms came around his neck, he soon forgot and pinned her body to the snow with his. His kisses roamed from her mouth seeking out her scarf covered neck.

  Elizabeth felt quite wanton, laying h
ere so passionately in the snow with Darcy. Sense had not yet prevailed, she was not thinking of the practicality of the situation, only of his next touch, his next kiss, her next delight. It was Darcy who eventually ended it. He rolled off her and lay beside her in the snow. His breathing as ragged as hers.

  He sat up and got to his feet, then he offered her his hand.

  “Come on,” he said.

  And without a word Elizabeth followed.

  Ten minutes later he stopped on the edge of a valley. Elizabeth could just make out a frozen river disappearing out of sight. The trees here were different, but they were not willows.

  Darcy untied the scarf from her neck and started to cover her eyes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Do you trust me?” he replied.

  “Completely.”

  “Then trust me now.”

  With her eyes now covered he guided her way down into the valley. His constant narration of the terrain on which she was walking, meant that she was as sure-footed as if she could see for herself. She felt the ground start to level out beneath her feet and a strange yet beautiful sound swirling around her.

  “You can take it off now,” he said.

  Elizabeth took off her scarf and looked around her. She was stood next to the frozen river bank where tall majestic willows grew. Their long bare branches were dipped into the river and frozen into place. Yet on the other branches ice had formed on the end like teardrops and as the wind whistled around them, it caused the teardrops to chime against one another like a thousand tiny bells.

  As she looked above them, she could see each of them glinting in the weak winter sun like mother nature’s crystal chandelier.

  “It’s beautiful,” she smiled.

  “We are lucky if it happens once a year. After a heavy snow when the branches are covered, you have to wait until it melts just enough to start them dripping. But then luck has to bring a frost too, to freeze them in place. Then you get this,” Darcy explained as he looked above them. “I once said that if you were here in winter…”

  “But at the time you never finished what you were saying.”