The early morning sun warmed Elizabeth Bennet's face as the carriage made its way down the well maintained road toward Pemberly. Elizabeth was struggling with emotions of excitement and anxiety over being so near Mr. Darcy's home. After reading his letter explaining his attitude toward George Wickham, Elizabeth had softened her former opinion of Mr. Darcy and actually admired his loyalty to his younger sister. Unfortunately, these thoughts were usually dispatched by further recollection of his behavior toward her own dearest sister Jane and Mr. Bingley. Oh, how could he have so callously misjudge Jane's feelings toward Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth did admit that Jane was shy and very seldom demonstrated outward affection and he was acting in perceived defense of his friend's feelings. How could Mr. Bingley allow himself to be such persuaded? No, this was not any excuse for Mr. Darcy's interference in the matter. Furthermore, although he denied the allegation, Elizabeth still had a sickening feeling that her family's want of connection was the original motivation for Dr. Darcy's separation of the two lovers. Yet something deep in her emotional core smacked of regret that she was so quick to judge him during their initial encounters at Meryton. And she could not help but wonder if her pride had not been injured by his insult at the Meryton assembly, would she have so quickly targeted him for disapproval.
Elizabeth was still lost in her vacillating thoughts of Mr. Darcy when her Aunt Gardiner gently laid a hand on her arm.
"Look Lizzy, there it is! Pemberly! It is exquisite, is it not?"
Elizabeth raised a hand to shield the obtrusive sun from her eyes and was instantly taken by the scene that unfolded before her. As the carriage jostled down the lane, Elizabeth could see the grand estate home appear through the greenery, standing majestically in front of a beautiful still reflecting pool. It stood elegantly nestled among the shrubbery that lined its pebbled drive; the sun almost dancing off of the windows to the water as they turned the corner and approached the front entrance.
It was a large house to be sure, but there was something inviting and warm in its situation and atmosphere. It was by no means the outward statement of intimidation that Rosings imposed upon initial viewing. For the first time, Elizabeth felt a strong pang of regret that she had not accepted Mr. Darcy's offer of marriage. Oh, how easy life could have been for her and her family… In an instant, Elizabeth was angry with herself. How could she allow her impression of a beautiful house compromise her felicity to her beloved Jane? She was anxious for this tour of Pemberley to end before it even did not like the effect Mr. Darcy's home was having on her emotions and it was apparent on her expression.
"Lizzy, are you quite well?" Aunt Gardiner asked with a furrow across her brow.
"Forgive me Aunt", Elizabeth replied, "I was just lost in the general splendor of the estate. Are we sure the Master is not at home? I most definitely would hate to intrude on the family's privacy."
"Not to worry Lizzy." Uncle Gardiner interjected with amusement. "We shall be sure to inquire with the housekeeper first before trespassing on the Darcys' solitude. Although, I am quite sure that the young, eligible Mr. Darcy is in London for the society. If he is not there enjoying his position, then I dare say the man works too much and should welcome the diversion of a visit by a gentleman escorting the two loveliest ladies in Derbyshire."
Mrs. Gardiner laughed at her husband's compliment but Elizabeth was immediately struck with a feeling of panic. What if Mr. Darcy was at home? How could she explain this intrusion? He would most certainly be offended by her presence. How would she face him with the sting of their previous meeting still present and her newly discovered struggle with her opinion of him? This will not do, at all. As the carriage came to a stop at the front of the house, Elizabeth felt immobilized. It was once again the gentle but insistent voice of her Aunt that brought her back.
"Really, Elizabeth, are you quite well? You are acting very much out of character today."
Elizabeth did not respond but turned to Mr. Gardiner. "Uncle, would you mind going ahead to inquire about our ability to tour the estate? It would be rude for all of us to approach the housekeeper. This way, if it is an impossibility, Aunt and I will be saved the inconvenience of climbing back in the carriage."
Both Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner appraised their niece with a mixture of confusion and concern. However, Mr. Gardiner did see the logic in Elizabeth's suggestion and left the two women in the carriage. All too suddenly for Elizabeth's taste, her Uncle returned with the joyful news that Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper informed him that the family was in fact away from the estate and that she would be more than pleased to tour the Gardiners and their niece. Elizabeth audibly sighed with relief and walked a few paces behind her Aunt and Uncle as they ascended the grand staircase to Pemberly.
As the visitors entered the house, Elizabeth's relief that the Master was not present was replaced with regret for the exact same reasons. The more Mrs. Reynolds spoke about the goodness and kindness of Mr. Darcy, and how humble Mr. Darcy is and how well loved he is by all of Derbyshire, the more Elizabeth yearned to be in his presence. Oh, how will she live with herself in caprice with regard to Mr. Darcy? How was it that just being in this man's house elicited such uncontrollable emotion; this man, for whatever his good intentions, thwarted every hope of Jane's happiness with Bingley; this character that, no matter how justified he may have been, insulted her family and then presumed to ask for her hand in marriage? Yes, she could forgive him his offenses toward Mr. Wickham, but to her family?
Elizabeth was still mulling over feelings for Mr. Darcy when she followed her Aunt and Uncle into a great hall filled with the Darcy family portraits. There in front of her, with a presence that reached her very soul was the man in question. It was an oil painting of Mr. Darcy. As she starred at the face of the man before her, for the first time since their acquaintance, she saw benevolence in his eyes. It was at that moment that her actions at Kent struck her with a hopelessness of the most acute kind. She excused herself from her party with the proclaimed desire of not wishing to waste the beautiful sunny morning. In truth, she felt that if she did not leave the house at that instant, she would lose complete composure and sensibility. With a polite curtsey to her Aunt and Uncle and their host, Elizabeth exited Pemberly convinced that she should never have to face the unnerving Mr. Darcy again.
This thought was still her heart's welcome companion as Elizabeth walked down a moss and stone covered path to a small but beautiful garden on the east side lawn. There she sat on a stone bench enchanted by the surrounding flowers and animals. The garden was the perfect compliment to the house; larger than her own at Loungborn but still intimate and inviting. The flora was a mixture of domestic and imported with varieties of wildflowers whose equal in color and beauty Elizabeth had never seen.
Quite against her will and almost without her apparent knowledge she began daydreaming about what it might be like to be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mistress of Pemberley. Without much coaxing she imagined sitting in this very garden watching her children playing amongst the roses and daisies and could almost hear their tinkling laughter as they chased after butterflies for their collections. It was then that she allowed her mind to drift back to the man that was responsible for her current vacillating emotions. She imagined Mr. Darcy there, in the garden with them, laughing as the children, their children, brought him daisy chains and specimens to examine. She found herself smiling at this picture, the proud and taciturn Mr. Darcy lying on a blanket, adorned by flowers and cataloging insects. What a sight that would be. Elizabeth's joy immediately turned to sadness as she realized that this pretty picture was never to be painted, at least not with her as one of its subjects. Besides, even if his feelings and intentions were the same as they were in Kent, how could she reasonably live a happy life with a man that was responsible for her sister's derision? She decided that she had to force these thoughts and feelings from her mind and heart completely and would not torture herself further. With that resolution, Elizabeth breathed an audible sigh of false relief.
"I hope your general surroundings are not the source of your lack of excitement, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth knew who it was even before she turned to determine the purveyor the question. Her heart was immediately in her throat pounding faster than that of the hummingbird's that darted in and out of the flowers. It seemed like an eternity as she turned her head, her mind spinning with responses yet, for the first time, leaving her utterly speechless. She was elated and mortified at the same time. She would see Mr. Darcy again; perhaps have a second chance to sketch his true character. But what would he think of her, sitting in his family's garden, daydreaming? From her perspective she did not know how long he had been standing there or whether or not he could view the emotion on her face as she pictured her life with him. However, there he was indeed. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Master of Pemberley and, she feared, of her heart.