Page 64 of To Love And To Cherish
Elizabeth gave a small nod, then said, “I’m fond of early walks, sir. Might I do so while I’m here? Are there paths I might follow?”
He grew serious. “Aye, there are fine paths along the moor and into the woods beyond. But mind ye take care. The ground out there can be treacherous. It’s bogland in places, soft and shifting. A wrong step and ye might find yourself knee-deep or worse. Take my walking stick, lass, and better still, let Bhaltair or Archie go with ye. They both work in the stable. Either knows the ground like his own hand.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you, I would be glad of his company, at least until I know the way.”
His brow creased, and he leaned in a little. “There’s one more matter I must speak of. Here in the Highlands, we’ve a tale, old as the hills. The Cùsìth, we call it. A great beast of a hound, bigger than a calf, with hair the color of moss. It roams the moors in silence, save for three dreadful barks. If ever ye hear the third... well, the tale says you’d be seized with such terror as to lose your mind altogether.”
Mary gave a soft intake of breath.
“I’ve ne’er seen the creature myself,” he added gently, “and I’ve lived here all my life. But even so, best to keep to the daylight, and never stray out alone at night.”
The three women exchanged solemn looks and promised they’d take care.
And so it was, beneath unfamiliar stars, with mist in the heather and mystery on the wind, that the women passed their first evening in the wild, watchful beauty of the Scottish Highlands.
Chapter 34: Pemberley
The morning after the ill-fated dinner, Fitzwilliam Darcy departed London. He rode ahead on Ares, his stallion, while Georgiana and Miss Kitty Bennet followed in the carriage. The spring air was crisp, carrying the faint sweetness of blossoms and fresh-turned earth. A second carriage conveyed Jenny, Georgiana’s maid, and James, Darcy's valet, alongside their luggage.
On the third day, nearing dusk, Darcy signaled the coachman to halt. The road had brought them to the crest of a wooded hill. "We will stop here, Georgie," he said, dismounting. "Show Miss Bennet your home."
Kitty stepped down and gasped. Across the valley, nestled on rising ground and backed by wooded hills, stood Pemberley House. The stream that meandered before it reflected the fading sun.
"Georgiana," Kitty whispered, hand to her mouth, "your home is beautiful. I congratulate you."
Darcy watched her, and for a moment saw Elizabeth as she might have been at sixteen, curious, earnest, vibrant. His chest ached. If only it were Elizabeth standing here now. The thought struck like a jolt, and his heart lurched with longing and regret. But no matter how his soul yearned, society would never deem her worthy, and he had Georgiana to consider. She, too, must marry well.
Yet, Elizabeth had more.
She was thoughtful. Learned. Kind. She had studied at her father’s knee and had dreamed of becoming a doctor. She possessed a mind equal to his. Elizabeth remained untouched by society’s strictures, unspoiled, unbroken. He sighed, then said, “Back into the carriage, ladies. We shall reach Pemberley in about twenty minutes."
Pemberley was peaceful. Within a fortnight, Jane and Bingley arrived, newly returned from their wedding tour. Two days later, Darcy and Bingley set out to view Ashover Lodge. In the week following, they visited Meadow-spring Manor and then Nether Stoke Hall.
At Nether Stoke, Darcy walked the grounds with Bingley. "The roof is sound. The stables are well-built and maintained, and the fields are well-drained and well-fenced. The house needs only minor refurbishments, nothing major."
The steward, when asked, explained, "The heir has no wish to manage a second estate. He will reside in the principal one, and with a child on the way, he means to simplify."
Bingley soon took Jane to view the property, and she approved. It was but eight miles from Pemberley. Bingley sent word to his solicitor to proceed with the purchase.
The days at Pemberley passed pleasantly for the women. One morning, Jane and Kitty embroidered handkerchiefs while Georgiana readThe Mysteries of Udolphoaloud.
"This novel is thrilling," said Georgiana, eyes wide.
Jane smiled. "Though I do wish poor Emily would faint less."
That afternoon, as the fire crackled in the drawing room at Pemberley, a letter addressed to Kitty arrived bearing a Scottish postmark. Papa had forwarded it from Longbourn. Thehandwriting, unmistakably Elizabeth’s, caught the attention of all present. Jane’s eyes brightened with quiet longing, and she turned to Kitty with a gentle plea.
“Do read it aloud, if you please,” she said, “I cannot wait another moment to know how she fares.”
Kitty, already unfolding the letter with interest, took a steadying breath. Darcy, seated by the hearth with a volume in hand, said nothing. He dared not ask to hear the letter read aloud, but the hope that someone would do so had coiled tightly in his chest from the instant he saw the seal.
Kitty began:
Dalmore House, Dava Moor
May 20, 1811
My dear Kitty,
