Page 26 of Pemberley's Imposter
“I wonder where you and Elysande have been living these past years?”
Mrs Fitzwilliam, bless her heart, tried to include her in the conversation. Mr Darcy was scowling, while the colonel did not look up from his food.
“I rented a cottage in Little King’s Hill.”
“How delightful. I suppose you know Brother has a cottage in the Lakes.”
Elizabeth smiled; she had never seen the aforementioned cottage, but she did not need to have viewed it to determine that it was nothing like her own cramped quarters.
“Lovely. Have you often had the opportunity to visit there?” she asked out of politeness.
“No, not often. I have some delightful memories of fishing there with my father. Richard and I are travelling thither for our honeymoon.”
The young woman blushed scarlet after mentioning her honeymoon, whilst stealing glances at Elizabeth.
“I hope you have a lovely time, Mrs Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth smiled in a reassuring manner whilst omitting to mention the colonel. Neither did she mention her own wish to see it. The Lakes had been the Gardiners’ original destination, the summer she had reunited with Mr Darcy. How she wished they had ventured farther north and had never laid eyes on Pemberley, nor its master. As it was, she only hoped the couple would nottarry long in her home but would soon continue their journey to the Lakes.
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Elizabeth spent a restless night in the nursery. Elysande had awoken in the evening and discovered her mother was missing. It had taken Elizabeth time to calm her daughter after she returned from dinner. As a result, Ellie was clinging to her the next morning, refusing to let go. She was left with no other choice but to take her daughter to the breakfast room, despite her fears that the colonel might pay her too much attention.
Fortunately, the man paid Ellie no mind at all, engaged as he was with serving his wife. Mr Darcy, on the other hand, enquired why the child had been brought out of the nursery.
“She is used to her mother being present at all times and needs a period of adjustment,” Elizabeth replied curtly, though well aware that children should eat in the nursery.
Mr Darcy ordered the child to be removed. A maid picked her up, but Ellie screamed with tears flowing down her cherubic face and her arms flailing towards her mother. The master yielded and allowed his daughter to remain. The child quieted and sat primly by Elizabeth’s side with only the occasional hiccup while she waited for her jam roll.
“Did you never leave her with her nurse?” Mrs Fitzwilliam asked.
A mirthless chuckle escaped Elizabeth’s throat before she could stop it, but she answered Georgiana in a subdued manner. It was not a topic she wanted to expound upon.
“We did not have a nurse.”
“Mrs Darcy lived in a two-room cottage with no servants, Georgiana.”
Mr Darcy obviously felt no impediments towards relating Elizabeth’s reduced circumstances. Perhaps wanting to set an example to his sister.
“But…who cooked, cleaned, and tended the fires?” Georgiana’s none-too-subtle glance at Elizabeth’s hands made her tuck them under the table.
“I did, Mrs Fitzwilliam. I also carried the water and chopped my own firewood—”
“I thought Mr Freight chopped your wood,” Mr Darcy rudely interrupted.
“He did when he called with his daughter.” Elizabeth turned to Mrs Fitzwilliam to explain. “Mr Freight was a widower with a young daughter called Millicent. I did her hair on occasions when they were entertaining and taught her to play the pianoforte in exchange for firewood from his nearby forest. Of course, my brother often came to do the heavy jobs, once he discovered my whereabouts.”
“I was unaware you had a brother, Mrs Darcy,” the colonel interjected.
Elizabeth turned her gaze towards her nemesis.
“Mr Bingley married my eldest sister in the autumn of 1812, as you well know.” She did not mention that she had also married at the same ceremony.
The colonel laughed. “I cannot picture Bingley chopping wood. He was always so…delicate.”
Elizabeth aimed a look at him that had the potency to set the colonel ablaze.
“Mr Bingley is the most amiable gentleman I have ever met. His strength is in his mind, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He brought men from his employ rather than labour himself.”
“Charlie papa Bingle?” Ellie found her voice when her dear uncle was mentioned. “Ellie’s papa,” she added, pointing at Mr Darcy, who startled at the appellation.
