So sorry! It has been a while. Partly due to a little writer's block and partly focusing on getting my other story (Surviving Living on here) to an editor in preparation for publishing in May. Anyway - apologies for the delay and I think/hope/believe I am ready to update regularly here. Thanks for sticking with me.
The carriage conveying Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Pemberley was ready at the appointed hour. Lizzy was ready quite in advance of that. Dressed in a riding habit excavated from the attics of Barlow Hall she fairly bounced from the house. Her borrowed frock had belonged to Mrs. Gardiner when she was a girl. It therefore had the disadvantage of being many seasons out of fashion, but the advantage of being like-new. Young Miss Madeline Barlow had not been much of a rider and quickly abandoned the stables for the gardens when she visited her cousin's estate as a girl.
For the most part as she journeyed toward this much anticipated outing Elizabeth was able to discipline herself to think only of riding, Miss Darcy, the horses, the stables, Mr. Darcy (the elder). In short anything but HER Mr. Darcy. Of course she could not help but think of him thusly, as hers, in the privacy of her own mind. It was after all simply a way to distinguish between the two gentlemen in her thoughts. And even such simple thoughts of how she should think of him caused an intense fluttering in her belly and a flush of heat to her cheeks.
"I am to see Miss Darcy and Mr. Darcy. They will teach me to ride. That is exciting. I am excited only for this." Elizabeth mumbled to herself. "I am excited and only for this. Only for the riding." Elizabeth's self-directed admonitions calmed her somewhat but did not succeed in distracting either her heart or mind from HER Mr. Darcy. Turning to the window she focused on the new sights before her.
She watched for the first appearance of the Pemberley Woods with eager anticipation, when at length they turned in at the lodge her spirits were in high flutter. The park was very large, and contained a great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lower points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent. She watched the trees and hills with avid interest. The carriage gradually ascended for a half mile to the top of a hill where the wood ceased – her eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road wound with some abruptness. It was a large handsome stone building, standing on the rising ground. The house was backed by a ridge of high woody hills; - and in front was a stream which Elizabeth imagined was the same one where she had met Miss Darcy. She was struck by the lack of artificial appearance. Pemberley's banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. It was delightful and she was enchanted, having never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.
As they approached the house Elizabeth was struck by not only its size but also its majesty. It was nearly a castle. She could not focus on this for long as her attention was soon drawn to the three figures standing on the steps. Taking a deep breath she tried to compose herself. By the time the carriage had stopped, the stairs were placed and the door opened she had not quite succeeded.
Mr. Darcy (the elder) was there to hand her down. Miss Darcy stood back, at the bottom of Pemberley's large entrance doors, next to her brother, fairly bouncing in place. Elizabeth briefly wondered if her arm had not been looped with his if she might have darted forward.
In the brief moments it took for Mr. Darcy to lead her to his waiting children Elizabeth took them both in.
It had only been a year, not quite that, and Miss Darcy had sprouted. Her face still retained the look of a girl but one on the precipice of the next stage of her maturity. Miss Darcy was dressed in a becoming pink frock with a small amount of lace at the collar and white ribbons on the short sleeves. Matching ribbons could be seen in her golden hair which was parted in the center and feel down over her shoulders. It was shorter than it had been last summer, as well as more carefully coifed. Her blue eyes were bright with curiousity and warmth. As she got closer Elizabeth estimated that Miss Darcy and herself were now very nearly the same height.
Though she tried to prevent it Elizabeth's eyes turned next to HER Mr. Darcy. He stood tall, perhaps slightly taller than last summer. He watched her approach and deep brown eyes which seemed to smile at her even though he held his mouth in a firm line. The curly brown hair which had previously displayed a little wildness was tamed, it being so closely cropped she could barely perceive the curls she loved so well. His broad shoulders and long arms were displayed to utter perfection in a dark blue jacket over a crisp white shirt. He held his hands in front of him and was twisting what she assumed was his signet ring. The sun catching the gold as he turned it. Even up through the moment she stepped from the carriage Elizabeth had been sure, had been assuring herself, that she had exaggerated his beauty, had misremembered his perfection, but one glance at him made clear her memories barely did him justice.
"Miss Elizabeth, welcome to Pemberley," Mr. Darcy said as he led her over to where his children waited with wildly differing amounts of patience. After the girls curtseyed and HER Mr. Darcy bowed Miss Darcy darted forward and took Elizabeth's arm.
"I am so glad you have come," she said. Her wide smile and tight grip on her friend supported this claim. "Father has said we may take some tea and cakes before setting off for the stables."
"That would be lovely," Elizabeth answered, overwhelmed by the enthusiastic greeting, the grandeur of her surroundings and the presence of HER Mr. Darcy. The foursome walked into the house, Miss Darcy and Elizabeth followed by the Mr. Darcy's.
The inside of Pemberley charmed Elizabeth just as much as the outside had. The rooms they passed were grand and handsome and although the furniture inside spoke to the fortune of the family nothing was either gaudy or uselessly fine. When they reached a doorway into which Miss Darcy guided her, Elizabeth found even more to admire. The room itself was like those she had glimpsed – elegant and well appointed, but it was the prospect from the large window that caught most of her attention.
She saw a river, the trees scattered on its banks and the winding of the valley as far as she could trace it and in the distance she perceived hills crowned with wood, rolling up and down as they made their way out of sight. Georgiana sat on the settee and indicated Elizabeth should join her. The pull of her new friend was just enough to make abandoning the view bearable.
"It is a delightful prospect," she said as she sat.
"We are blessed with similar views from nearly every room," Mr. Darcy told her. "The house was built to bend to nature rather than changing the natural landscape to suit it."
"That is just what I thought," Elizabeth responded with a smile. "Your ancestors were wise indeed."
"You can discern their wisdom from the mere fact that they chose not to raze the countryside to create their lodging?" HER Mr. Darcy asked.
He had not spoken until that moment she realized. In the exchange of pleasantries he had been silent, offering a bow and letting his father and sister do all the talking. She had not noticed because she was so distracted by the sight of him. The deep timbre and teasing cadence of his voice made her stomach flutter. His perfections were so complete and overwhelming Elizabeth was nearly annoyed with him. It was too much. He was too much. However, she would not let his challenge go unanswered. His manifold attractions may render her nearly stupid but she would not let them make her dumb.