PP FF

NON-CANON, AU GENERAL REGENCY

Hearts in Hiding

Previously:

The room was well-lit, with large windows allowing natural light to flood in, highlighting the tasteful decor. It was a perfect blend of peace, comfort and simple beauty, making it an ideal retreat for Mrs. Erickson.

Meeting Family

Ch. 20

Pemberley's drawing room was full of warmth and laughter. The Bingleys had come over from their new home. Mary and Kitty had arrived with Mrs. Brinkerhoff a few days earlier and were now sitting near one of the windows, whose curtains were open, allowing a winter's day to be seen.

The skies, which had threatened to be covered with dark clouds, had cleared up. Cold winds had died down, and a few wild animals had ventured out to find food. It helped brighten everyone's mood.

The room itself exuded a sense of warmth and welcome, a testament to Elizabeth's refined taste. She had replaced the old, dark draperies with vibrant silk curtains in shades of deep crimson and rich emerald, which caught the sunlight and cast a warm glow across the room. The heavy, gold-framed mirrors that once dominated the walls were now replaced with ones framed in lighter, more elegant designs, their reflective surfaces enhancing the room's brightness.

The furniture, previously overstuffed and cumbersome, had been reupholstered in luxurious fabrics that contrasted beautifully with the new decor. Plush armchairs in soft, muted tones of blue and green invited guests to sit and relax, while a finely crafted mahogany table stood proudly in the center, adorned with a delicate lace tablecloth and a vase of fresh flowers.

The overall effect was one of understated elegance and comfort. As the family gathered in the room, each daughter displayed a mix of emotions. Some were eager and excited, their eyes sparkling with anticipation, while others felt a touch of nervousness, their hands fidgeting with the folds of their dresses. They were all awaiting the arrival of the lady and her daughter, whom their father had written about with such enthusiasm.

"I hope she is not a Mrs. Lucas, or even our aunt," Mary confessed. "Do not get me wrong, I do not hate either one, or mean any disrespect to our departed mother, but it would be great to be able to talk to someone who would not spread—and twist—our words to everyone in the neighborhood."

"I mean no insult to our departed mother; I am simply hoping she does not push Father into doing things he has no interest in doing. Those times were rather embarrassing," Jane quietly admitted.

"I promise." Elizabeth smiled warmly. "She followed father's instructions...exactly, I highly doubt that will happen."

Kitty might have spoken, but they heard footsteps coming down the hallway and a young girl's voice accompanying them. What she said put a sympathetic smile on all their faces.

"But what if they do not like the dress I picked, or what I say?" Her nervous tone could not be missed. "I try to watch what I say, but sometimes things just come out on their own. What if they kick me out and let you stay?"

"Then I would leave too. However, Mrs. Darcy did not strike me as that type. So, breathe, you do not look good with purple skin, though the dress compliments it well."

Everyone might have laughed at Mrs. Erickson's good-natured tone of voice, but the lady and her daughter appeared at the open door.

"I hope we did not take too long?" Mrs. Erickson looked around at the room already full of people. "We got caught up looking at your portraits in the corridor leading to your drawing room. My parents had similar ones in their home. We did not mean to allow it to slow us down."

"You are fine." Elizabeth smiled and ushered Mrs. Erickson into the room and then looked straight at Emma. "I think your dress is very pretty; you have good taste."

Emma's face lit up, and she managed to say thank you. However, she squeezed her mother's hand to the point where her mother had to gently but firmly remind her that she would live if her mother's hand was released.

"Would you like me to read to you? Or show you around Pemberley?" Kitty took pity on the young lady who was clearly trying so hard to behave but looked as if she would prefer to be moving around.

"Do you have any rabbits or ducks I can look at?" Emma found herself growing excited when Mrs. Darcy said they did and that her sister, Miss Kitty Bennet, could take her to them. It was only when the two were gone that she turned to Mrs. Erickson and asked why she had automatically stiffened.

"Sorry, I was half afraid her normal satirical remarks were going to come flying out; and I never know how people are going to react to them. And I confess, while I control my tongue around company better than she, it is I that she gets her humor from." Mrs. Erickson's mouth twisted, and her eyes turned downward apologetically.

Elizabeth and her sisters could not help it; they cracked up laughing. "Please, do not take offense at our amusement," Mrs. Bingley spoke quietly when Mrs. Erickson's face turned slightly red. "You must be the one father wrote about in his letter."

Mrs. Erickson's face reddened a little. "Yes, I confess, it was one of the first things that drew me to Mr. Bennet. Emma's remarks were not offensive to him; he simply tossed them back into her lap. We had a few rough spots in the humor department, but I was pleasantly surprised how well they smoothed out."

"I hope you do not mind me asking, but what was Emma's father like?"

"He was fine, at first." Mrs. Erickson shrugged her shoulders. "I…" She sighed. "I studied your father's actions sharply, read my son's letters when he spoke of Mr. Bennet carefully, and wrote back with questions of my own. I had no desire to have a repeat of my first marriage."

"That good?"

"Let us just say I may as well have been single, buried two babies on my own, and raised two on my own. If necessary, I would finish raising Emma on my own rather than repeat what I had before." Brigitta, without being aware of it, set her jaw into place, and her eyes might as well have turned into torches.

"If Father put his foot down, would you argue with him?" Elizabeth inquired, recalling what Mr. Bennet had vowed in his letter he would not repeat in life.

"I came here, did I not? To people I had never met. I had no guarantee you would do as he said. I have followed his instructions without arguing." Her words were not harsh; no arrogance or condescension was in her tone. No, Mrs. Erickson was simply stating a fact. "If that does not answer your question, I do not know what to say."

"I say we should play some games, or…" Elizabeth asked softly. "Father wrote that while you do not play the piano, you play the mandolin. And you can sing. We were hoping you would play a song and sing it too."

"You have a mandolin? It is not a popular instrument." When told they did, Mrs. Erickson said she would, if they waited for Emma. "My girl picked up the piano exceptionally fast. We have done duets at home. I would like her to get used to playing for people… if you do not mind."

Elizabeth's request, and Brigitta's response, found Emma sitting at the piano with her mother holding a mandolin. Emma was nervous, to say the least. However, with her mother by her side, the budding pianist focused on playing for her mother, not the people gathered. Soon her mother's voice began to interlock itself with the music as easily and smoothly as an expert weaver would thread yarn through a loom.

Sad was the plaint of the wand'ring stranger, Hungry and pale was the infant she bore; Friendless and faint, she cried to the sailor, Oh! take my love to his native shore.

When Brigitta's serene voice stopped singing and the pair stopped playing, people clapped loudly. Elizabeth leaned over to Jane and whispered low, "At least we will finally have true musical talent in the family." Elizabeth was not insulting her own level of skill, or even Mary's technical skill. She was simply acknowledging that the Erickson women had a skill and talent far above that of anyone in the room.