Thank you all again for the lovely reviews. They make me feel smiley.
Disclaimer: My knowledge of Yorkshire is limited to the stories told to me by my crazy aunt and there is no Pemberley in Yorkshire, it's just the name for Mr Darcy's estate in Jane Austen's story.
"Where exactly are we going, aunt?"
"Why to the town where I grew up, Vince, Dewsbury."
"And where is that?"
"Just south of Leeds."
Vince, who had been gazing out of the carriage window at the lush woodland felt suddenly perturbed. They had been traveling for over a week now with the main stay of their holiday to be in the town of his Aunt Gardiner's childhood. He had so far admired many picturesque meadowlands with countless sheep and made appropriate noises of admiration when directed to look at rivers, rocks and small hills. Somehow, he had thought that the journey would allow a little more excitement.
They had seen a shrew the day before but its small brown eyes had reminded Vince of Howard and had put him out of spirits for the rest of the day. He had been hoping for rather more breathtaking landscapes but nothing had been worth sketching so far and he could not sew in a carriage. It gave him motion sickness.
"Leeds?"
"Yes, very near the home of your friend Mr Darcy," his aunt remarked, nudging her sleeping husband to stop his snores from interrupting their conversation and waking him with a start.
"What?"
"We were wondering whether we should stop at the home of Mr Darcy, so that Vince might view the estate," she told her husband, much to Vince's horror.
"Oh, yes, it is a fine house, beautiful estate, large trout to be found in the lake I believe."
"Then it is settled!" cried Mrs Gardiner. "We are to stop at Pemberley, Mr Darcy's estate on our way to Dewsbury. Marvelous!"
"But we can't!" Vince squeaked, his voice seizing up under the anxiety of his predicament.
"Why ever not?"
"Surely it is not done to simply arrive at a gentleman's house for the purposes of taking in its views and inspecting its architecture."
"It shall be no inconvenience to anyone," his uncle sought to assure him. "These great men are never at home and their housekeepers are all well versed in the local history and architectural merits. We shall be in no one's way, Vince, you need not worry about that."
Vince gave a tight lipped smile and sank back in his seat. He did want to see Pemberley, Mr Darcy's home, the place where he had grown up and came back to and must have so many memories, both pleasant and bitter. But still he felt concerned that coming to his home, especially when he would not be there, was somehow an invasion of his privacy, and a breech of the agreement between them to keep their distance from one another. The best course of action would be to advise his aunt and uncle that he would rather not go there, that he was too keen to see Dodsbury, or Dogsbody, or Goosebury, or whatever the town's name was, but he could not seem to open his mouth and summon the words.
He had told his sisters that he would not go anywhere near Mr Darcy, that he considered himself quite forgotten and that it was best to stay as relative strangers. But he had heard it said many times that men of the world like Howard (Mr Darcy, he corrected himself), were so rarely at home that they would surely be safe from each other. And, he convinced himself, if they arrived on the estate and learned that Mr Darcy was in fact at home, they could simply leave and proceed to the boring town that was their destination.
With that settled in his mind Vince felt he could relax by a small measure. He was curious by nature and did want to see Pemberley very much, if only to aid his imaginings about what Mr Darcy was doing in his life. Upon reaching the inn at which they would stay for the night Vince enquired of a chambermaid as to whether she knew much of Pemberley and whether the family were down for the summer. A most welcome negative followed the last question; the family were not in the house and the chambermaid was sure that she could speak confidently about anything to do with Pemberley, as her mother had used to work there in the kitchens. Vince was not entirely sure of the reliability of his source but assured himself that the goings on at such a place would be common knowledge, especially in a hamlet so close by. With that, he lay down to sleep, his head full of curious thoughts of what he would see on the morrow.