Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (12 page)

There came the sound of the phaeton approaching and Elizabeth saw that it was a very modern carriage, drawn by perfectly matched bays. Its bodywork was gleaming and the steward drove it with style. Indeed, he cut a dashing figure as the phaeton drew to a halt and he jumped down.

Mr Gardiner gave his wife his arm and escorted her to the phaeton. The steward offered Elizabeth his arm and she took it. She felt a tremor pass through her gloved fingers to her arm and thence down to her toes. It was a strange but enlivening feeling. She glanced at the steward but she could read nothing on his face. It was turned forward, revealing nothing but his well-defined profile.

They walked to the phaeton and then he handed her in.

The carriage was expensively upholstered and it smelled of leather and polish. It was very different to the lumbering Bennet carriage, which smelled of cabbages as it was often used to transport things for the farm, and which often contained wisps of hay.

The phaeton was also very different from her aunt’s carriage. The Gardiner’s carriage was newer than the Bennet carriage but it was used to transport the young Gardiner children, so it often contained discarded toys or bits of toffee which would stick to the skirts of the unwary.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner, too, climbed in. The steward took his place on the box and the phaeton set off.

Mr Darcy, seated on the box of the phaeton, with the reins in his hands, heard Mrs Gardiner address her niece as Lizzy. He liked the name. Elizabeth. He turned it over in his mind. He liked the affectionate informality of the shortened name, Lizzy, too. It suited her.

Unfortunately, he could not speak to her because he was sitting at the front of the carriage, whilst she was sitting in the main body of the carriage, behind and below him. He was gratified to hear her exclamations of pleasure as she saw the some of the splendours of Pemberley, but that was not enough for him. He must find somewhere suitable for them all to walk together. Mrs Gardiner had said she liked to walk, as long as it was not too far.

If they walked, he could go on ahead with Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle could walk behind. He was sure her aunt and uncle would not object, since he had seen a look of approval in Mrs Gardiner’s eye and this had pleased him on many levels. He was pleased because it meant that the Gardiners, like their niece, were not mercenary, and would welcome a humble steward as a son-in-law, instead of being determined to find the best match – in worldly terms – for Elizabeth. He was also pleased because he was sure Mrs Gardiner would not hinder him when he tried to know her niece better. And so he formed a plan . . .

He drove the phaeton through a delightful woodland area, following the road upwards until they came to the top of small hill. On the way, he was rewarded by the sound of more appreciative noises coming from behind him.

At the top of the hill, he reined in the horses and the phaeton came to a standstill. He jumped down and looped the reins loosely over the branch of a tree. Then he went to his guests and said, ‘There is a splendid view from the top of this path.’

‘Then we must see it,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

He helped Elizabeth out of the carriage whilst Mr Gardiner helped his wife and then the four of them set off up the path, with the Gardiners walking behind the young couple.

‘What do you think of Pemberley so far?’ he asked Elizabeth.

‘I think it is splendid. I have never seen such a fine estate,’ she said.

The praise gratified him, and he thought she would make a fine addition to the place. She was as beautiful as any of the portraits in the gallery; perhaps not obviously so, for her beauty owed as much to the intelligence shining out of her eyes as it did to her features. She had a curious personality and she asked him many questions about the estate, which he was happy to answer. It had come to seem like a burden to him in recent months, but in her company he saw it again in all its beauty and he was proud of it. He was also proud that he was to inherit it, and that he could lay it all at her feet.

And yet he was going too fast. He hardly knew her.

Something his cousin had once said came back to him: that we can be acquainted with some people for years and scarcely know them, whereas we can be acquainted with someone else for days and yet know them very well. He felt he was on the way to knowing Miss Bent well, despite their short acquaintance.

‘Is it like your own county?’ he asked.

‘No. There are no moors in Hertfordshire. It is gentler country and very pretty, but it does not have the grandeur of Derbyshire.’

They had reached the viewpoint at the top of the path and they stood looking out over the rolling moors. There were outcrops of rocks and little villages nestled here and there in the folds of the hills.

‘You are staying with your aunt and uncle at the moment, I believe?’ he asked.

‘I am on a touring holiday with them,’ she said.

‘Then I am lucky you decided to include Pemberley in your tour.’

He did not usually compliment young ladies – they usually bored and annoyed him – but it had just slipped out. He regretted it instantly, thinking that, even in his disguise as a steward he should not raise any expectations, but he need not have worried. She was not missish about the compliment. She took it naturally and unaffectedly.

He found himself liking her more and more.

‘Do you often tour with them?’ he asked.

‘No, but I stay with them regularly. My sisters and I take it in turns.’

‘Ah.’ He was getting to know her and he found it stimulating. ‘How many sisters do you have?’

‘Four.’

‘Four?’

She laughed. ‘Yes. Four sisters and no brothers. My poor father is outnumbered!’

Her laughter was refreshing to him. He would not have dared to laugh at his father, but she obviously had an easy relationship with her father, which he envied.

He was not yet ready to reveal he was Mr Darcy of Pemberley, but soon, perhaps, he would do just that.

Elizabeth was enjoying herself. Pemberley was beautiful, the weather was good, her aunt and uncle were happy, and the steward was attentive. She could not help noticing that he was attracted to her, and she knew she was attracted to him. He was intelligent and knowledgable, he was good to her aunt and uncle. He was, without doubt, her model of a perfect gentleman.

After they had admired the view he escorted them down to a small stream which ran through the woods. There was a kingfisher there, his bright plumage flashing as he dived into the stream for fish. There were bluebells carpeting the floor and filling the air with their sweet perfume.

As the Gardiners fell behind, Elizabeth began to learn more about him.

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ she asked.

‘I have a sister. She is younger than me, only sixteen years old.’

From his tone, it was obvious he was proud of her.

‘What is your favourite part of Pemberley?’ she asked him.

‘The waterfall. It is too far away for us to visit today, but when next you come – that is, after the ball – I hope you will allow me to show it to you.’

‘I would like that,’ she said. ‘The ball must make a lot of work for everyone here.’

‘It does, but it is worth it. The Pemberley balls are worth seeing, as you will discover.’

Elizabeth was shocked at his words.

Does he take me for a grand young lady?
she thought.

She remembered their first meeting in the ballroom. She then thought of their present meeting, which required him to show her and her aunt and uncle around the estate as guests.

She was dismayed. If he thought of her as an heiress then he would not think of courting her. And Elizabeth found that she wanted him to court her. It was an unusual feeling for her. She was usually unimpressed by young men, but he was different.

She was just wondering how she could let him know that her aunt was a friend of the housekeeper, without it seeming obvious, when Mr Gardiner hailed them.

‘Mrs Gardiner is growing fatigued. I think we had better return to the phaeton.’

The steward was at once attentive.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘If you continue to the end of this path, it will bring you out on the carriage drive. I will bring the phaeton and meet you there, so that you do not have to walk back up the hill.’

‘That is very considerate,’ said Mrs Gardiner thankfully.

He left them to continue along the downward-sloping path, whilst he climbed back to the phaeton.

Before long, they met again on the carriage drive and he took them back to the Pemberley stables, where the Gardiners’ carriage had been left.

There was no chance for Elizabeth to speak to him on the phaeton ride, and she could do no more than bid him a polite farewell. But as he helped her into her aunt and uncle’s carriage, he bowed and said, ‘I will look forward to seeing you at the ball.’

The carriage door was shut and the Gardiners’ coachman set the carriage in motion. The last thing Elizabeth saw, as the carriage headed down the drive, was the steward standing in front of Pemberley, looking after her.

He could not be more handsome or charming if he were Mr Darcy himself
, she thought.
Even the heir to Pemberley could not be a finer young man.
Adding to herself,
But I am very glad he is not the heir to Pemberley, for then he would be so far above me there would be no hope of a match between us.

She caught herself up a moment later, realising she had been carried away. She hardly knew him, after all. But they had made a promising start to a friendship, and perhaps more. If only she could find a way of letting him know that she was not a notable heiress . . .

‘You seemed to be getting on very well with the steward,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

It was a few hours later. They had returned to the inn and Mars Gardiner had had a rest, then they had all met up in the private parlour for afternoon tea.

‘I like him very much,’ Elizabeth admitted. ‘But there is something that is bothering me.’

Elizabeth told her aunt of her fears, and Mrs Gardiner understood her difficulty.

‘I see.’ She thought for a few minutes and then she said, ‘I think I know how it can be done. Mrs Reynolds has spoken to me of her difficulty in finding suitable help for the ball. Some of the villagers have been drafted in as maids and footmen but they are not used to the role and require a great deal of direction. Mrs Reynolds is worried that she cannot be everywhere at once, and that everything will not be done in the proper order. In token of my friendship for her, I offered her my assistance but she declined as she knew we were not intending to stay so long in the neighbourhood. Once I tell her we have decided to stay, I am sure she will accept my offer. You will be welcome to come with me and as the steward usually helps at these occasions he will see that you are a friend of the housekeeper and not a guest at the ball.’ Mrs Gardiner’s voice then became humorous, and she said, ‘Only make sure not to tell your mamma about it, or she will never forgive me!’

Elizabeth laughed. Her mother was always looking down on the Lucases because Charlotte Lucas was expected to help out in the kitchen, baking pies. Mrs Bennet had been heard to remark on more than one occasion that she kept servants who knew their job, and
her
daughters were never expected to help in the kitchen!

‘I promise not to mention it.’

Elizabeth was pleased with her aunt’s idea overall. It was not perfect but it would set matter straight and it should help to overcome any awkwardness relating to the misunderstanding. After that, she could proceed with the steward on a more equal footing.

‘We must think about what you will wear. The steward will be involved in overseeing the stables in the early part of the evening but once the guests have arrived he will have some time to himself. You will not be expected to help, of course, and I think you should be prepared to dance. Oh, not in the grand ballroom, but Mrs Reynolds says that some of the servants manage to snatch a few minutes to dance out on the terrace. It is below the ballroom and so the music can be heard clearly. It is illuminated by flambeaux, but it is hidden from the view of the guests.’

Elizabeth felt her pulse jump, which surprised her, because she had not realised how excited she was at the thought of the ball. At home, the Meryton assemblies were rough and ready affairs with all the townsfolk, and even the occasional ball at Lucas Lodge or Netherfield Park could not match the splendour of a ball at Pemberley. Nor could it offer the expectation of such pleasant company. And so she found she was very excited about it.

She went upstairs with her aunt and the two of them spent an hour examining all of Elizabeth’s gowns and deciding which one would be the most fitting. In the end they decided on a yellow silk gown. Its cheerful colour suited the cheerful time of year, with everything springing into life around them. Its cut was modest but at the same time it had the low neck suitable for evening wear. It had short puffed sleeves which were trimmed with white lace and it split at the front to reveal an underskirt of a deeper yellow.

‘Yes, that will do very well,’ said Mrs Gardiner. ‘I will lend you my pearl brooch. It is very simple, suitable for a young woman of your age, and it will denote your status: you are a young lady, but not a wealthy heiress.’

Elizabeth kissed her aunt on the cheek.

‘Thank you, aunt, you have been a great help.’

‘I have not helped for entirely unselfish reasons,’ said Mrs Gardiner humorously. ‘I enjoyed our day today, and I would like to spend many more days in a phaeton, touring the grounds of Pemberley – when the Darcy family are away.’

‘Of course,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I am sure things are much less free when they are in residence. When will they be returning?’

‘In a few days’ time. I hope to catch a glimpse of them at the ball. They say that young Mr Darcy is a very fine man, and his sister Georgiana is a very beautiful young lady, although both of them are inclined to be proud.’

‘Having seen Pemberley, I am not surprised. They have much to be proud about,’ said Elizabeth.

‘I will send a message to Mrs Reynolds, telling her we are staying in the neighbourhood. I do not think we should go back to Pemberley until the evening of the ball. I will be tired after my exertions today and I will need to take things a little easier until then. I suggest we content ourselves with walking in the village and visiting the local shops over the next few days.’

Elizabeth agreed. She did not want her aunt to be overtired and she herself wanted to be fresh, for the ball would go on until the early hours of the following morning – possibly as late as five o’clock in the morning – and she wanted to enjoy every minute of it.