I am so so so sorry this has been so long in coming. After publishing my latest (After the End) I thought I would be able to complete chapters on this one more regularly again. Although my schedule is somewhat to blame it was also just hard for me to write the scenes that follow. Not for any particular reason it was just like pulling some proverbial teeth. Now that I a through this part I do feel fairly confident in my ability to do a chapter each week from here on out. As always, thank you so much for reading! Also - a question for anyone interested in giving input: I am really struggling with how to differentiate between the two Mr. Darcy's (in terms of what to call them) both in Lizzy's mind and in dialogue tags. Any suggestions welcome!
The fifth of July dawned bright and warm. This was all the better as the birthday festivities at Pemberley were to be outside. Elizabeth, Mr. Barlow, Mr. Gardiner and Mrs. Gardiner arrived at the appointed hour. The Darcy family awaited them outside Pemberley's large front entrance. As their carriage came to a halt Elizabeth's eyes found HER Mr. Darcy.
He wore his usual dark coat and crisp, expertly tied cravat held in place with a matching dark pin. She took this in, along with the rest of his immaculate ensemble, briefly. Her eyes quickly moved up his frame. Since she had first seen him years ago Elizabeth had catalogued and considered every aspect of his face – separately and as a whole. As her eyes swept over it now she felt a mix of excitement and contentment that seemed to be her standard reaction to his person.
She was pulled from her perusal when Mr. Gardiner reached up to help her alight. She came to stand beside Mr. Barlow as the Darcy's made their way down the stone steps.
"Welcome back to Pemberley," Mr. Darcy said with a broad smile. He bowed to Mrs. Gardiner and briefly nodded at the gentlemen before coming to stand before Elizabeth.
"Many happy returns to you, Miss Elizabeth."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. And thank you for including me in the celebration."
"You know none of us would hear of anything else once we realized you and Georgiana shared a birthday."
Georgiana greeted her next. The young girl was fairly bursting with excitement as she curtsied to the party.
"Welcome, everyone," she said. Then taking Elizabeth's arms she told her, "Our birthday picnic is to be at the gazebo. It is on the opposite side of the lake so we must take the carriages."
"That sounds delightful!" Elizabeth said.
Mr. Darcy stepped beside Mr. Barlow and the gentlemen began a discussion on matters in the village. Elizabeth noted how Mr. Darcy took the elder man's arm and heard him whisper something about old men supporting one another. She felt a rush of warmth and a rising in her already strong affection for him. The Gardiners soon joined the older gentlemen. The young Mr. Darcy approached his sister and Elizabeth.
"Miss Elizabeth, I hope you enjoy your day," he said with his familiar tone of amusement and formality. "May I help you?"
Lizzy had trouble focusing on anything he said after her name. For reasons she could not explain, it always caused a sensation that combined what she felt the time the vicar admonished her in church in front of everyone for not paying attention and the time she beat John Lucas in a race at the Meryton fair.
After a moment she saw Mr. Darcy's hand was extended to her. He was offering to assist her into the phaeton. First. Meaning she would sit in the centre. Next to him.
She stared at his hand. She knew she was taking too long to respond – when she looked up at his face his perfect dark brow was quirked in question. Her heart had not slowed down. She wondered how it would respond to his touching her. He wore gloves. They were brown, fine and slightly worn on the palm side. She was not wearing gloves. Her aunt and uncle had gifted her a new pair, off-white with embroidered pink flowers. They were a soft leather, and she had loved them so much she left them behind not wanting to get them dirty. Rarely did her fine things last more than a week before she stained or ripped them beyond hope of recovery.
Her bare hand in his gloved ones. She could survive that. This is what she told herself as she slowly placed her hand in his. His fingers closed over hers. But before he could move them to the steps of the gig the other Mr. Darcy addressed them all.
"Fitzwilliam will take the birthday girls in the phaeton. Gibbs will take the rest of us in the barouche box."
"Oh, how lovely," Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed.
Lizzy's hand continued to rest in Mr. Darcy's. How had she not erupted in flames?
"Shall we be off then?" old Mr. Darcy asked, indicating the small open carriage which sat in the drive.
"Yes," Mr. Barlow agreed. "Are we certain young Mr. Darcy is up to the task of escorting our young ladies?"
His fingers squeezed hers before he answered.
"I believe I can handle it, sir. However, I would not object if you wanted to chauffer the guests of honour."
Elizabeth did not know if her Mr. Darcy knew how much this offer would mean to Mr. Barlow. The older gentleman was sometimes treated as a child who was not capable of doing the things common to gentlemen of his station. Such as driving a gig. Even her beloved aunt and uncle seemed, in recent years, to consider him unable to contribute in meaningful ways. It was a conspicuous change to her so she knew he must feel it. He was now seen as one who was in need of care as opposed to one who provided it.
"Oh, you must," she beamed at him. Mr. Darcy released her hand, and she moved to Mr. Barlow, taking his arm. "Surely, you cannot resist such a fine conveyance."
"I suppose," he answered, trying unsuccessfully to keep the excitement from his voice. "I would not mind."
Her Mr. Darcy helped Mr. Barlow ascend into the driver's seat then reached for her hand once again. She took it quickly this time, squeezing his fingers. He looked at her in question.
"Thank you," Lizzy said quietly. He nodded and raised one side of his lips in that almost grin she had come to love and her heart stuttered. In that moment she felt they understood one another and had accomplished something together. It was such a heady feeling she almost missed the final step. As she settled into her seat and Georgiana sat down beside her she lamented the missed opportunity. Perhaps he would have caught her if she had in fact fallen.
Soon her attention was called to the beautiful scenery all around them, excitedly narrated by Georgiana and Mr. Barlow, sitting tall in his seat and asking questions of Miss Darcy about much of what they saw.
The path took them around the back of the house and quickly onto the lane that traversed Pemberley Wood. The trees were tall and thick, their green leaves creating a canopy that blotted out the sun for a moment before they reached a fork in the road which took them to the edge of the wood and then down a sloping verdant hill, winding back and forth so the descent felt easy though the hill itself was fairly steep. At the bottom was the lake, but when they reached its edge, after five minutes, they continued along the road, the water to their left until after another five minutes the gazebo came into view.
As they came closer Elizabeth saw that not only were there blankets laid out beside it with pillows and baskets but the gazebo itself was decorated for the occasion. There were flowers, white roses and hydrangeas in multiple shades of pink and blue in bunches along the rails. The latter flower being Elizabeth's favourite and the former Georgiana's. Their favourite colours were also on display with cloth festoons gracing the large double-wide opening as well as the surrounding rails – purple and pink. They went well together.
It was all so beautiful and lavish without being oppressively opulent. There was beauty but no pretence. Or at least that was how Elizabeth saw it. It is likely no matter what the decorations, meal or desserts were she would have been pleased. She was so taken by the sight that she was startled when they came to a stop beside the blankets. Mr. Barlow helped her and Georgiana down as the other carriage pulled up. Everyone exclaimed at the beautiful decorations, the food which was laid out in such a way that the quantity and delicacy were apparent and the weather which seemed to be cooperating in their plans for outdoor enjoyment.
Two servants, a maid and footman, stood to the side waiting for Mr. Darcy's word to begin serving the guests. Before doing so old Mr. Darcy invited everyone to sit.
"We are so glad to welcome new and old friends for this little celebration," he said, then with a smile at the girls added, "to Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy, Elizabeth and Georgiana, many happy returns."
"Here, here," the others responded. The servants then sprung forward and began to fix plates for everyone. Elizabeth was unsurprised to find all of her favourites among the offerings.
The hour the group spent partaking of the many different dishes passed quickly for Elizabeth. In addition to the amazing food there was no shortage of good conversation. She and Mr. Darcy discussed Beowulf which he had suggested she read after Gulliver's Travels. She didn't have the heart to tell him she found the former book boring and though it was quite short only her knowledge that he would be asking about it made Lizzy finish. In listening to Mr. Darcy's enthusiastic recitation of certain lines and his thoughts on the beauty of both the language and the fantastical scope of the poem Elizabeth rethought her own opinions. Though not enough to consider actually re-reading the text. Sometime after the two agreed to disagree on the merits of the poem Mr. Barlow coaxed Lizzy into sharing the story of her most memorable birthday, before this one.
"Yes, Lizzy, tell our friends about the gift you got yourself when you were a little girl," Mrs. Gardiner insisted with a laugh.
"Very well," Lizzy agreed with pretended reluctance. "I was sure they would let me keep it," she told her eager audience. "It was my sixth birthday."
"Oh I can just picture you as a little girl," Georgiana exclaimed.
"She was the most adorable child," Mrs. Gardiner confirmed.
"What was she like?" Mr. Barlow asked.
"Much as she is now – kind, headstrong, adventurous. In looks I suppose there has been some little change," she teased, with a smile aimed at her blushing niece. "Her dark curls were so delightful – a riot of ringlets that framed her round little face and I believe it was then that you lost both of your front teeth."
"Oh no, that is a trial," Georgiana commiserated. The rest of the party, gathered in a small circle on the blankets, appeared quite interested in the tales of young Lizzy Bennet.
"I confess to great enjoyment in her attempts to pronounce certain words – particularly her own name." Mrs. Gardiner confessed.
"Aunt!" Elizabeth protested.
"I apologize my dear, do go on with your story."
"Very well," Lizzy conceded, looking quickly at her Mr. Darcy, who sat on the edge of the blanket beside hers, his long legs tucked off to one side, his back straight. His posture was relaxed and yet formal somehow. "I found a wounded furry creature in the barn a few weeks before my birthday. I brought it milk and scraps from the kitchen and after a few days it let me tend to its wounded paw. I would sneak off to play with him several times a day and I became quite attached."
"Of course you were!" Georgiana sympathized.
"What kind of creature was it?" Her Mr. Darcy asked.
"I thought it was a puppy," she hedged.
"You thought?" Mr. Barlow asked, smiling as he helped himself to one of the ripe strawberries arrayed on a silver platter in the middle of their blanket.
"Yes, I ask you all to remember my age. I was six."
"And six-year-old Lizzy thought she had found a puppy that turned out to be a . . . " her Mr. Darcy prompted.
"A fox," she admitted on a laugh. "He looked remarkably similar to a collie the family at Purvis Lodge had adopted the previous year."
"Completely understandable," Georgiana defended her friend.
"You attempted to bring this fox-dog into your house?" Mr. Barlow asked.
"I did," Lizzy admitted, smiling at the memory. "By then he was letting me hold him and eating out of my hand. I was so proud of how I had trained him – he would follow me about the yard. I was sure they would let me keep him."
"That is impressive," her Mr. Darcy said. Lizzy blushed and her stomach lurched. Her strong reactions to anything and everything he said and did were at once thrilling and aggravating.
"I assure you my sister did not think so," Mr. Gardiner said with a laugh. "I had recently begun a courtship with the lovely Miss Barlow and she and her father were visiting Longbourn, where I was staying at the time. I believe it was only days after the Barlow party's arrival when Lizzy walked into the living room with King Henry in her arms . . ."
"King Henry?" Mr. Barlow interrupted.
"Oh yes, she had named him."
"He was so regal, and his fur was light orange. King Henry VIII seemed an appropriate namesake. I also thought giving him a royal name might make my mother more inclined to like him," Lizzy admitted before reminding her audience, "I was six!"
"But Mrs. Bennet was not persuaded," Mrs Gardiner offered.
"No, neither was my father though he was somewhat gentler about it."
"What did you do?"
"After a great deal of crying and begging on my part failed to sway them, I brought my father out to the barn. It was the next day and tempers had cooled somewhat. I hoped perhaps he would be persuaded by Henry –he was very cute and, I thought, quite well behaved. When I first approached his little corner, he greeted me as usual, running right to me and waiting to be picked up. But then he saw my father."
Georgiana's cry of concern was echoed by most of the others as they waited to hear how King Henry reacted to Mr. Bennet.
"He really was a good boy. He was just trying to protect me," Elizabeth insisted.
"Did he bite your father?" Mr. Darcy asked.
"No, I reacted quickly enough and got between them."
"Lizzy! Were you hurt?" Georgiana asked.
"No, I told you Henry was a good boy. Once I held him, he settled though he did growl when my father approached again."
"Then what happened?" Mr. Barlow asked.
"Well, long story short, or shorter, as it has already gone on for some time, my father was impressed with Henry, but not enough to allow him in the house. He permitted me to keep him in the barn for the time being. Once he had explained that Henry was in act a fox and not a dog he was able to convince me to help him back into the wild. In the fall I brought him out into the woods, but I was so worried. I was not at all certain he could survive."
"You snuck into the woods to check on him?" her Mr. Darcy asked, a brow quirked in a knowing challenge.
"I did," she confirmed, ignoring the swirl of nerves conversing with him caused. "Particularly in the winter. I was worried about him being able to feed himself."
"That makes sense. Wild animals that are domesticated do have trouble readapting to their natural habitat," Mr. Darcy said.
"Well not Henry," Elizabeth told them. Feeling a swell of pride and affection even after all these years. "I would see him once a month or so, even though I tried to find him more frequently. And then in early spring he came running when I called, perhaps persuaded by the meat pie I had brought. After enjoying the treat, he seemed to want me to follow him as instead of running off he walked slowly and kept looking back at me."
"Where on earth was he taking you?" Georgianna asked.
"To meet the family," Elizabeth said. "We reached a small grassy knoll and Henry slipped inside. When I got close enough, I saw Henry – or should I say Henrietta – had placed herself in the middle of a brood of fox cubs. There were five of them!"
"Did you see her again after that visit?" Mr. Barlow asked.
"Once or twice over the next few years, but not since I was eight or nine."
"You have gifted us with a lovely tale, Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy said. "Now shall we engage in some more active entertainment? I believe the staff have set up nine pins and bocce."
The group began to rise, and the footman and maid came forward to begin clearing the plates and food. As they moved toward the area where the games awaited, her Mr. Darcy fell into step beside Lizzy.
"You must have been quite smart as a young girl to get a fox to trust you and to take care of it on your own for so long."
Conversation with her Mr. Darcy was hard enough but when he was complimenting her, addressing her while standing so close and looking directly at her with those compelling brown eyes she was not certain she could form a thought let alone a coherent sentence. But she attempted it.
"Not really . . . I think when I want something I don't always see the obstacles. That is likely more to do with my stubbornness than my intelligence."
"Although I see the wisdom in that self-assessment I choose to see it as a testament to your intelligence as well."
Elizabeth's thank you was embarrassingly breathy, but as they had arrived at the field of play, he seemed not to notice.