CHAPTER SEVEN

"With impetuous recoil and jarring sound
Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook
Of Erebus. She opened, but to shut
Excelled her power; the gates wide open stood."
– John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book II –

The words echoed in her ears.

"A lovely prospect, it is not?"

Elizabeth swung around with a start, shifting the burden of her uneven weight onto a bent right arm that she used to push herself up into a standing position. It was all done in a manner which was as perfectly expeditious as it was entirely unladylike. Unfortunately, her less than graceful movements also caused her legs to become tangled in the gallery curtain. She could not have imagined a more humiliating tableau.

"Pray, forgive me!" Elizabeth cried, "I offer my sincere apologies, madam. We understood all the family were from home, or we would never have dreamed to intrude on your—"

The woman swept Elizabeth's apology away with a wave of her hand. Elizabeth, still too engaged with the curtains to attempt anything befitting the name of a curtsy, could only offer what she hoped was an apologetic smile. To her relief, the gesture was returned in kind.

"Think nothing of it, my dear," the woman said. "I have only just arrived myself. Indeed, you are not intruding any more than I."

The awkwardness of the moment somewhat dispelled by their greeting, Elizabeth freed herself from the velveteen grip of her thick, sage captor as she studied the woman before her. Whoever she was, she was certainly not Miss Darcy. The lady was much older than Elizabeth, perhaps near her mother's age. However, her smooth skin and bright eyes lent her an appearance similar to that of her Aunt Gardiner, a woman whose delicate beauty—even at six and thirty—afforded her the air of a much younger woman. The stranger was taller than her aunt, though just as slim and ivory pale. A long, slender neck rendered her overall expression rather like that of a swan; a description Elizabeth found fitting as the lady certainly held herself with as much grace.

A pair of caramel eyes danced under a thick mass of auburn tresses which had been arranged with great care. The same meticulous attention to detail was mirrored in her dress. Elizabeth fought not to stare as she regarded the delicately embroidered bodice, sleeves, and hem of the lady's sheer overdress. It was fitted with the finest lace she had ever seen—from each edge sprung fine vines of silken thread, the lines occasionally blooming into full, stunning blossoms. Underneath, she wore little more than a light silken shift, a daring style which left much of the milk white skin of her shoulders and back bare but for the elegantly embroidered sheath. Elizabeth had never seen anything like it—especially given the telling hue of the magnificent gown. It was full black.

The vision spoke again Elizabeth was embarrassed to find she had been staring after all. She had never seen a more beautiful woman—She, who lived with Jane!

"I am Mrs. Graham."

Elizabeth promptly returned the fine lady's curtsy, smoothing her skirts as she fought the colouring of her cheeks. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire."

"You are touring the house then? With a party?" Mrs. Graham inquired.

"Oh! Yes, of course," Elizabeth brightened. "Excuse me, my aunt and uncle have followed Mrs. Reynolds in the direction of the music room. I found myself a little… overcome by the heat and chose to remain in the gallery a moment longer. I offer my apologies again for surprising you so." She offered a shorter curtsy to the grand lady in a move to depart. "I should rejoin my party before they think me lost!"

"Of course, Miss Bennet," came Mrs. Graham's melodious reply. "Though do you think… Might I join you?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the request, but she was determined to make amends for so rudely intruding on the lady's privacy. She made her best effort to temper the surprise in her voice when she responded in the affirmative. She thought she had done rather well, especially considering that this lady must be some relation or other of Mr. Darcy—though she had heard nothing from Jane or Charlotte regarding a death in the Darcy family and the lady was clearly in full mourning. But perhaps she would not hear of it. It was folly to think that she might be, being so far removed from his society and relations. Could Mrs. Graham be some distant cousin? She appeared full young to be any aunt of his, but it was certainly not unheard of. Still, they had been told the family was from home, and if this lady were standing here…

"Does the rest of the family join you, Mrs. Graham?" Elizabeth heard herself ask in a voice a bit too loud for company.

"The family? Oh, yes," Mrs. Graham paused a moment as if to reconsider her reply. "Or rather, no."

Apparently in some state of confusion herself, she made an effort to clarify.

"Not the Darcy family, I mean, but my own." Mrs. Graham glanced around the room and sighed. "I fear we shall not do the house justice while we are here as we are but a small party of four—myself and three of my children."

Elizabeth smiled at the image such a party would present in the grand rooms she had just visited. Though a finer house had never been seen, Pemberley certainly seemed in need of the liveliness only children could bring! Her response seemed to brighten Mrs. Graham's otherwise solemn mien somewhat, and the lady continued, "though, they are uncommonly small, the middle one especially so—distressingly so, if you should hear her tell it—as her younger sister seemingly became her elder sister overnight!" The two women laughed together, and Mrs. Graham completed her tale in a teasing whisper. "She suspects some mischief, of course. Still, I suppose they can hardly be counted as full guests. Perhaps I should say that we are a small party of two, or near two and a half?"

Elizabeth shrugged one shoulder with a cheerful laugh. "I should think your three half people and one full person should do the halls of Pemberley justice indeed, madam! For you have more than enough good humour to fill a party of four, and any house so large and stately as this could surely benefit from a child's laughter—or their grievances, as it were!"

"Yes, it is rather grand, is it not?" Mrs. Graham contemplated. "I confess that when I emerged from my carriage this morning I worried for a moment that it would swallow me up entirely. I would hate to disappear down some long hall never to be seen again."

Elizabeth, refreshed from her momentary reprieve at the window, felt a light-heartedness to their conversation which had not touched her for some time. Had she truly been so distressed? "Fear not, madam," she replied. "I have been through any number of exceedingly long halls today. Not to mention the sea of dining, sitting, and standing rooms. As you see, I have yet to disappear. In fact, I feel quite remarkably present at the moment."

Mrs. Graham only chuckled in reply, the merry sound echoing off the long hall before them as they followed in the presumed direction of Mrs. Reynolds. "Ah, yes! You would say that to reassure me," she teased. "Though perhaps I should remind you that I found you quite separated from your party and in very near danger of being consumed by the drapes!"

The two ladies continued to laugh and talk together as they walked along the grand halls of Pemberley. For her part, Elizabeth could not help thinking how much she enjoyed the lady's company. How interesting, to find a friend at Pemberley—of all places! However, it was not long before their ready camaraderie was interrupted by the appearance of Mrs. Reynolds and the Gardiners as they exited the music room.

"Lady Graham!"

Elizabeth turned on her heel. Lady Graham?

The requisite number of curtsies and bows were exchanged between the principals of the group, but Elizabeth could not help noticing the embarrassed blush which crossed Lady Graham's countenance.

"Would you do me the honour of introducing me to your party, Miss Bennet?"

The voice was barely a whisper, but Elizabeth complied. She was instantly gratified to see that Lady Graham seemed well pleased to make the acquaintance of her relatives—most especially that of her aunt.

At Lady Graham's request, the whole of the party relocated to one of the downstairs sitting rooms. Refreshments were called for and the Gardiners, Miss Bennet, and Lady Graham quickly lost the hours to amiable conversation. Although the lady seemed enthralled by Elizabeth's tales of Hertfordshire and the rather whimsical descriptions of her four sisters, she revealed little about herself other than that her family had originally come from Bath and she had no siblings of her own—though, owing to Elizabeth's colourful accounts—she certainly wished she had!

When Lady Graham inquired as to the Gardiners' home in town, Elizabeth saw the shadow cross her aunt's face. Although neither Gardiner thought themselves unworthy of such company, neither were they insensible to the strictures of society. It would not be beyond the pale for a woman of Lady Graham's status to be surprised at their being from trade. They certainly looked every part the well-bred gentleman and lady. The Gardiners and their niece were therefore quite taken by surprise when Lady Graham voiced some familiarity with Gracechurch Street, and after some moments of conversation regarding the shops and society to be found in that part of the neighborhood, Elizabeth released a long breath she had not realized she had been holding.

The ladies soon determined that they got on very well indeed, though Lady Graham expressed an interest in Mr. Gardiner's affairs as well. Sometime after the final drop of tea had been poured and the last biscuit consumed, Lady Graham turned to address Elizabeth's favourite uncle. "Do you mean to stay long in this part of the country, sir?"

"No, your ladyship," Mr. Gardiner replied with all the geniality of a born gentleman. "I am sorry to say that I mean to travel further north in but three days on a matter of business. I am expected to meet my associates north of Manchester tomorrow week."

"Do you mean to see the mills?" Lady Graham replied smoothly. "I understand Abyford Mills is just north of Manchester and that is has attracted great interest among many men of business and sense such as yourself."

The entire party attempted to hide their surprise that such a lady should know the name or location—or indeed the very existence of a place such as Abyford Mills. The owner there, Mr. Abyford as it were, had designed the mill to operate more as a social experiment than one of the factories more typical of industry towns. The workers were paid good wages, fed two full servings a day from the meal house, and their children even attended a small school on the property. Mr. Abyford had claimed that such considerations, though costly at first, added greatly to his rate and quality of production—to say nothing of the betterment to local society. It was quite a novel concept, though often harangued by other mill owners and men of business for whom profit was the only virtue of trade.

Mr. Gardiner, however, had spoken of little else since they had departed from town. He enjoyed a good income from trade, of course, but he considered himself a man of honour and a father first. He had long struggled with the manner in which many of his supplies made their way to his warehouses, but if Mr. Abyford was to be believed, Mr. Gardiner might find a comfortable and profitable way to extract himself and his interests from the less accommodating factory owners of the north.

"Yes, your ladyship," Uncle Gardiner stammered. "I understand Mr. Abyford has made a great many changes since taking over the mill, and I am eager to see them for myself."

Lady Graham, who seemed quite unaffected by the flagrant talk of business in her company, continued to encourage the conversation in manner so polite and unassuming that they could very well have been discussing the fashionable length of sleeves for ladies' wardrobes this season.

"Yes, of course," she affirmed in animated tones. "I understand Mr. Abyford's meal houses and schools have attracted a great amount of interest in town. And all this at twice the wages of Batterley Mills!"

As Mr. Gardiner was shocked into silence, the lady continued the conversation for the whole of the party.

"Will Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet accompany you?"

The turn in conversation seemed to allow Elizabeth's uncle time to gather his bearings. "Oh, no, my lady!" He replied cordially. "While I have heard Mr. Abyford's mill is vastly improved, I do not think the environs would appeal to Mrs. Gardiner or Miss Bennet half so much as the hills of Derbyshire."

Lady Graham became thoughtful for a moment, before breaking into a grin so brilliant that Elizabeth found herself once again stricken by her considerable beauty. If she did not know Mr. Darcy's exacting nature for herself, she would have found the presence of such a charming widow in his house quite alarming. Her brow furrowed—though how well did she know Mr. Darcy, really?

"Of course!" Exclaimed the enchanting woman who might very well be Mr. Darcy's lover. "You are right, Mr. Gardiner. And how shall you ladies pass the time Mr. Gardiner is away, Mrs. Gardiner? Miss Bennet?"

Mrs. Gardiner replied with her plans to visit what remained of her nearby family and call upon some old acquaintances. Elizabeth—still rather distracted by her questions regarding the relationship between the mysterious lady and the very man who had proposed to her less than four months previously—swallowed her misgivings long enough to express an interest in visiting Peveril Castle.

"I understand there are many historic sights to be seen here at Pemberley, Miss Bennet," Lady Graham said encouragingly. "And I believe the grounds of Pemberley house their own ruins as well." Though Elizabeth briefly wondered at the direction of the conversation, she would not wait long for Lady Graham to reach her object. "Well, then. Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet," Lady Graham said with a clap of her hands, "you shall simply have to stay at Pemberley!"

There was an audible gasp from the direction of Mr. Gardiner. Mrs. Gardiner looked almost frozen. Elizabeth's anxieties quickly welled to apprehension.

"We thank you for your generous offer, Lady Graham, but we could not dream of imposing on your privacy in such a way," Elizabeth offered.

"Nonsense, Miss Bennet!" Lady Graham replied breathlessly, though her countenance turned somber once more. "I would not have you measure the hospitality of my offer until you are acquainted with its selfish means."

A pair of soft brown eyes fixed on Elizabeth and she felt herself being drawn in by their tender expression. There was something there. Loneliness, perhaps? Was this another visible sign of her full morning, or was the lady pining for Mr. Darcy?

"I have quite enjoyed your company this afternoon, brief though our acquaintance has been," Lady Graham supplied. "As I am to remain at Pemberley for… some time, I find I am in great need of company." With a bright smile, Lady Graham turned to Mrs. Gardiner. "I hope you will consider my offer, Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner. It has been some time since I was in the company of such fine ladies, and now you have come I find it difficult to give up!"

Though her countenance was cheerful, Elizabeth heard the touch of desperation to her tone.

What misery has befallen this odd, beautiful woman? And why has it brought her here, seeking the comfort of strangers?

Her aunt and uncle exchanged a glance meaningful only to them. It was at this moment that Elizabeth remembered her circumstances. The conversation with Lady Graham had largely distracted her from her earlier worries, but they could not be avoided now.

This was Pemberley. The home of Mr. Darcy. What if he should return and find her here? Surely, he must be on his way back to Derbyshire, even now, if his relation—or otherwise—was taking up residence at Pemberley. Oh! It was in every way impossible! She had to think of some excuse before Mr. Gardiner—

"We are very knowledgeable of the honour of your request, your ladyship. Of course, we would be happy to accept."