## Chapter 4
Elizabeth kept her head down and pulled the blanket as high on her head as she could to hide her face. It had not felt so mortifying when it had just been her and Mr. Darcy, both drenched and muddy from pushed into the lake by a sheep. But when her aunt and uncle arrived, as well as many servants all perfectly respectable in dry, clean clothing …all she wanted to do was return to the Lambton inn at once.
But Mr. Darcy, who continued to confound her, was ever the kind gentleman. A far cry from his arrogant behavior from before. She would rather he had shown his previous boorish behavior and sent them away immediately instead of insisting she stay to bathe and change clothing. Elizabeth would have to face him again, thank him when she would rather hide in their carriage.
"Your cheeks are reddening, I fear you may be ill already," stated the housekeeper who waved to a servant, "Rebecca, remove her boots. Quickly, now!"
The maid at Longbourn, the Bennet family home, was shared between all of the sisters, and had never helped them in our out of their footwear. It was embarrassing to have one of Mr. Darcy's servants see the worn state of her walking boots, as well as the slightly frayed hem in the back that showed the age of her dress. But perhaps the mud from the lake covered it completely?
Elizabeth squeezed her lips together to subdue the smile struggling to form. No one would think she should be smiling at her situation and would likely wonder if she was a candidate for Bedlam.
The maid screamed and fell back while a little fish in lake water glided out of Elizabeth's upturned boot. Elizabeth closed her eyes unsure how she would endure the humiliating situations still yet to occur. And then water splashed her foot as the maid picked up her foot and washed it, so she would not dirty the floor inside the grand estate. Truly, nothing could be worse than this.
Mrs. Reynolds led her through the door, across the foyer and up the curving staircase to the second floor, one that had not been included in their tour of Pemberley. Elizabeth glanced down the hall, the other wing of the house, but it looked just the same as the wing she was being led down. This yellow guest room was so well appointed she could not imagine what the family's bedrooms looked like. Indeed, she was beginning to understand why Miss Bingley longed to form an attachment with Mr. Darcy. But the trappings of wealth did not interest her, only love. At least that's what she continued to tell herself as she stood on a fine rug, while a large copper tub was filled with hot water. At Longbourn they had one servant, and a cramped, darkened tub.
Elizabeth stayed hidden in the blanket until the bathing screen was placed in front of the tub. Quickly she divested herself of her sodden wet underthings, which the maid did not even let touch the silky soft rug before she quit the room. Then she slowly sank into the hot bath and covered her face to muffle the sounds of her laughter.
She did not laugh in the bathing tub as a rule. Elizabeth could not remember another time in which she had done so. But it was either that or cry. And she would not cry, not over something so absurd as running into Mr. Darcy at his estate when he was supposed to have been away! And then having one of his sheep push her into the lake. It was the most absurd farce. She snorted, and covered her mouth. Ripples splayed out from her body as she worked to contain her laughter.
But then the laughter receded as the sadness rose to the surface. Mr. Darcy had changed his behavior, but he could not still have feelings for her. Not now, not after he had found her perusing his estate. How mortifying. Elizabeth covered her face again. But she did not stay morose for long, indeed it was not even a minute before she was back to her usual self. Albeit, a bit more concerned with vacating the premises immediately.
She wiped her eyes, though her hands were wet from the bath water and truly her eyes were now wetter than before, but it had made her feel better. Elizabeth had resilience but even the most stodgy would admit how horribly this visit to tour Pemberley had gone. Jane would never believe it. She would write her sister immediately upon arrival back at the inn.
Elizabeth groaned at the thought of traveling to Lambton, with her aunt and uncle sending her pitying looks. She could not bear it. But she would rather suffer their pitied looks than staying in Mr. Darcy's well appointed guest room. One of his guest rooms in a wing of his house dedicated to guests. She must leave at once before he had dressed and was waiting on their party.
Quickly, she bathed, dunking her head in the water and running her fingers through her hair to remove any untoward grass and other lake detritus. Elizabeth stood, grabbed a towel and realized she could not leave the room with her hair undone. But that would not stop her from leaving Mr. Darcy's home. She rubbed her hair until she could not get anymore water out of it. Then she dried herself off and reached for her dress on the bed, but it was not her dress lying there.
A maid's uniform was laid out on the bed. She gaped as her cheeks grew warm. This was the most mortifying experience of her life. The housekeeper must have thought she was nobody. Perhaps she thought Elizabeth a poor relation on a tour with relatives. It did not signify to spend any more thoughts on the subject. She just needed clothing to leave at the room, and reach the Gardiner's carriage before Mr. Darcy dressed. How much time had she spent in the tub?
Elizabeth threw on the dress, but could not reach all the buttons on the back. It would have to do. Braiding her hair, she looked about the room and saw the wet blanket she used on her walk to the house, still on the floor. Grimacing, she picked it up and wrapped it about her shoulders. It would hide the unbuttoned part of her back and would have to do.
She walked across the soft, plush rug to the door and peeked out. It was truly a necessity for her to leave otherwise she never would have considered running through Pemberley in her bare feet. Her boots must still be on the terrace by the front door. Or moved to the trade entrance.
On that thought, she steeled her nerved then darted out into the hallway. She counted her blessings that she encountered no one. Slowing her stride, she stepped as quietly as she could down the curved staircase in the foyer. The dress was sliding off her shoulder. All she needed to do was reach the front door. Then she would be in the carriage and they could quit this embarrassing nightmare.
She stepped quickly across the foyer, purposely not looking at the footmen stationed by the front door.
"Lizzy! Lizzy, is that you?"
Elizabeth stopped, her bare feet squeaking against the white marble floor, and turned towards the direction of the cry. Mrs. Gardiner was in front of an open doorway, a horrified expression upon her face.
"Lizzy, what are you doing?"
She had never seen her aunt so shocked before, and nearly speechless.
"Let us get in the carriage and leave immediately. Please."
Her uncle joined her aunt in the foyer, his eyes had never been so wide.
"Please uncle, let us hurry back to the inn. Oh, I wish we had never come."
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner shared a long look. It was plain her aunt had misgivings, yet she followed her husband towards the front door motioning for Elizabeth to come to her. Once out the door, she took what seemed to be her first full breath. She slipped her feet into the wet boots, and did not bother to tie up the laces.
Carefully she walked down the many steps until she nearly tripped. She bent down, tucked the laces in her boots, and continued down the many steps to their carriage on the drive. A waiting footman opened the door and helped her into the Gardiner's carriage, with only slight raising of the eyebrows at her attire.
She pulled the blanket up tighter, then turned her head to look away from the house, hoping she could will herself invisible. Elizabeth could not stand any more mortification today. Or this trip. Perhaps the year.
"There you are Smith," stated Mr. Gardiner to their driver. "We would like to depart for the inn."
Elizabeth let herself relax, all would be well. They would be departed as soon as her uncle climbed into the carriage, after handing her aunt up. And Mr. Darcy would be none the wiser.
The carriage jiggled, then her aunt sat in her view, next to her on the bench, but without any sense of urgency. "Lizzy," she whispered, "you are undressed and without shoes! You could have been seen by Mr. Darcy!"
"That is why I want us to depart posthaste, so he will _not_ see me!"
Her aunt studied her, frowning. "Was he displeased? What did he say?
Elizabeth tightened her lips. "Nothing of consequence. He inquired after my parents…"
A distant noise seemingly from behind her grabbed her attention. The sound of pounding footsteps rapidly descending the steps in front of Pemberley alarmed her. She tried to calm her breathing while she pulled the blanket over her head.
"Miss Bennet!"
I'm have up to Chapter 11 dictated, I just have to wrangle the dictation and edit it. And I hate dictation wrangling and editing. So I'm dragging my feet. What do you do to get through tasks you don't like?