Trees, trees, and more trees. Their carriage had started on the road towards Pemberley over a half a mile ago yet Elizabeth had still not caught a glimpse of the house. Her view had been only of forest and groves. After three weeks in a crowded and foggy London, she was overjoyed to be out in the fresh air again. But good gracious! Would they reach the house before dusk? A gleam of sparkling water drew her eye. They had reached a lake and beyond, in the near distance, was a stone house. Elizabeth opened, and then quickly closed her mouth. To call it simply a house was the grossest of all understatements. It was utterly magnificent. She had never seen a house more happily situated.
"This is your home?" she asked, astounded.
"Our home," Darcy corrected.
"Our home," Elizabeth repeated in a dazed whisper.
The carriage pulled up to the entrance. After stepping down himself, Darcy held out his hand to her. Taking it, she stepped down onto the cobblestone. Hearing the pitter-patter of footsteps, she turned her head in the direction from whence they came. The owner of the footsteps was a young woman approximately sixteen or seventeen years of age. Tall and slender, she was stunningly beautiful from her shimmering blonde ringlets to her dainty feet.
"Fitzwilliam!" the girl cried, running to hug Darcy.
Her husband returned the embrace with a smile. Stepping back, he returned his attention to his wife. "Elizabeth, I have someone I would like you to meet. This is my sister Georgiana. Georgiana, this is my wife Elizabeth."
A smile was still plastered on the young woman's face but she had managed to compose herself more. Curtsying, she said, "It is a pleasure to meet you Elizabeth. My brother has told me so much about you."
Elizabeth smiled. "It is nice to meet you Georgiana. Your family and your brother's friends speak very highly of you. I have anticipated meeting you for weeks now."
"I'm sure that everyone has been kinder than they aught." Glancing from her brother back to Elizabeth, she gushed, "I am so happy to have a sister at last. I have always longed for one."
After dinner, Elizabeth said, "Colonel Fitzwilliam says that you are quite the musician. Do you sing as well as play?"
A red flush crept to Georgiana's face. "I do, but I prefer not to sing in front of others."
"I should like to hear you play some time."
"If you or my brother wishes it, then I shall." Her face broke into a smile. "How could I have forgotten? Elizabeth, would you come with me?"
Elizabeth followed her sister-in-law through the hallways until they reached the music room. In the center of the room, there stood a beautiful pianoforte. "My brother is so good to me. Upon my arrival home, I found this. I thought we could both share the piano. I would love to hear you play as well. My brother has written in his letters how much he enjoys hearing you play."
Laughing, Elizabeth replied, "Your brother has apparently over praised my musical ability to numerous people. Unfortunately, I neither play nor sing well at all, but if you would like to hear me play, then I will."
They spent the next half hour looking through sheet music and selecting songs to play in the upcoming days. The more time that Elizabeth spent with her new sister, the more she felt that Wickham's account could not be true. Proud? Haughty? Those were not words she would use to describe this shy, sweet girl. Despite her predisposition to dislike Georgiana based on Wickham's description, Elizabeth discovered that she liked her, she liked her very much.
Elizabeth sighed. She was lost. Last night, she had gone to bed certain that she knew where the morning room was located. In the light of day, she acknowledged that she did not yet know her way around the myriad of rooms in this monstrosity of a house. It would be weeks before she could comfortably navigate the halls. As she diligently searched for the breakfast nook, she heard voices in a room nearby.
"Good morning, Mr. Wells. How is your family?"
"They are very well, Mr. Darcy. I have a good lot of them. I do. Hard working like me and smart as a whip like their mother. Well, maybe not our youngest, he is four, but the wife and I are not expecting much from him. He spends most of his time eating the grain from the horses' trough."
The sound of her husband's chuckle carried out into the hall. "Give him time. My father caught me with my hand in the grain barrel many a time. I think I turned out quite alright."
"Indeed you have sir. Indeed, you have. How are you and the new misses?"
"Mrs. Darcy and I are quite well. You will see her around more once she settles in."
"Looking forward to it, sir." Elizabeth heard the other man clear his throat. "I came today to ask you a favor. I was wondering if you might have some extra work for my eldest boy, John. Maybe in the stables? He's a natural with horses and he don't mind getting his hands dirty neither."
"Have him come to the stables later today and the head groom will have some work for him."
"Thank you, sir. The misses and I always appreciate your kindness."
"John's a good lad and if he's anything like his father, I know he will be dependable and trustworthy. There will always be a place for workers like him at Pemberley."
"I'll run along home and give John the good news. Thank you again, Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth stepped back into the darkness of an alcove as Mr. Wells briskly walked by her with a wide grin on his face. How odd, she thought. Outside of Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy seemed to be well liked. She had met his friends in London and they were a pleasant sort of people. His cousin, the Colonel, was a jolly, good-natured fellow. His sister, Georgiana, was absolutely darling. His tenants and servants respected him and practically sang his praises. Could her husband have truly deceived all of his friends, family, and employees? Could they really be that ignorant of his true personality? Or was it possible that Mr. Wickham's report was not all truthful?