Page 73 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“And?” Grandmother Bennet questioned, not allowing herself to be taken for a fool.
“To determine whether Mr Darcy returns my admiration,” Elizabeth finally admitted.
Maeve Bennet regarded her for a long moment, making Elizabeth squirm under the heavy scrutiny.
“I am quite certain that he cares for you. In fact, I know he loves you most fervently.”
“How can you speak so decidedly?” Elizabeth doubted.
“Because Eudora told me so when we returned to town in November. She is almost his closest relation and knows most of his affairs.”
Elizabeth knew she was staring most unbecomingly at her dear relation, but she could not help it. She searched her grandmother’s eyes for signs of mirth or prevarication. Finding none she asked, “Why did you not tell me?”
“Because you did not want to hear it. You held on to your grudge regardless of what I said, which convinced me you needed to discover the truth for yourself. Now that you have, you may leave it to me.” She tapped her nose and left not only her sitting room but the house.
#
Elizabeth had hoped that Mr Darcy would attend his cousin’s wedding—he did not, and she was left to repent an opportunity lost.
Because of the trial, only their intimate family were in attendance. Jane preferred a quiet wedding and shone brilliantly in her new light-blue dress. The breakfast was held at Limerick House with a small selection of family and close friends.
The newly married couple were to leave the next morning for their bridal trip. Elizabeth and her grandmother had been invited to join Miss Eudora Darcy at her estate, Edensor, and they were to leave in a procession of carriages as far as Derbyshire for the safety of both travelling parties.
Two and a half days later, they turned off the main road at a lodge. For some time, a beautiful wood stretched over a wide extent and gradually ascended over half a mile, when suddenly the wood ceased, and they found themselves on the top of a considerable eminence. The carriage drew to a halt to allow the travellers to enjoy the view.
Jane opened the door to the carriage Elizabeth and her grandmother shared with Miss Eudora Darcy. “Would you mind joining me for a moment, Lizzy?”
“Not at all,” she assured her sister.
Elizabeth peered out to discover, at the opposite side of the valley, a large, handsome stone building that stood well upon the rising ground. It was backed by a ridge of high woody hills, whilst in front a stream of natural importance swelled into a lake without any artificial appearance. “Where are we?” Elizabeth muttered in astonishment.
“You may guess.” Jane smirked most vexingly.
“Is it Chatsworth?” Elizabeth could well imagine it was the home of a duke, but Jane shook her head. “Haddon Hall?” Another shake of denial. Elizabeth huffed and stepped out whilst trying to remember which other great estates in the area she had heard mentioned. “Good gracious! IsthatPemberley?” Elizabeth swept her eyes across the valley and spotted a couple of young lads up the stream with fishing rods in their hands. Uncle Gardiner would regret he had not accompanied them…
“I need to stretch my legs and wondered whether you would like to accompany me? The grounds are delightful, and I am very much inclined to explore after sitting so very long in one attitude.”
Elizabeth was surprised she had not requested the colonel’s company, but since she was inclined to walk, reckoned it was best not to suggest it.
“Excellent, my dear,” the colonel called from his carriage. He was leaning out of the door whilst sending his wife a significant look.
Jane grabbed her arm and strode vigorously towards a bench not ten yards from the carriages and gestured for Elizabeth to sit.
“I thought we were to stroll,” she complained.
“We have walked, now we shall sit and admire the view.”
Elizabeth did as requested in sheer bewilderment at Jane’s commanding tone of voice. It must be the colonel’s influence, and she was not certain she liked this development in her serene sister’s character.
Jane sat beside her, turned to face her, completely disregarding the picturesque view, and grabbed her hands. She looked at her imploringly, as though she had something particularly distasteful to relate.
“You have been very sly with me,” she accused. “Very reserved. But however little you are willing to tell me, do not suppose me ignorant of your plight or unaware of your feelings.”
“I know not of what you speak,” Elizabeth prevaricated.
Jane slowly nodded her head. “You do. In fact, I believe not much else occupies your thoughts, and it has been so for quite some time. I have watched you turn from my vivacious, happy sister to someone quiet and contemplative, hovering in impenetrable sadness. You see, I observe in you what you surely have recognised in me—a preference for a certain gentleman, an ardent infatuation, or dare I say love.”
Elizabeth stared at her sister before slowly turning her head towards Pemberley.
