loss.
The servants lined up with the luggage, and Mr. Darcy issued instructions regarding the rooms in which each member of the party was to reside. Turning back to the party, he clasped his hands together. “The servants will take each of you to your rooms where you may freshen up. We shall dine in two hours, so please take whatever time you need. Feel free to rest, or you may tour the house if you are so inclined. See Mrs. Reynolds if that is your wish. Presently my other guests—a longtime family friend and his family and my cousin—are relaxing after a rather full day. You shall meet them at supper. I am quite certain you shall enjoy their company.”
“The Colonel is here?” Elizabeth asked as she turned to him, a smile brightening her features.
“No,” Mr. Darcy answered softly. “It is not the Colonel.”
“Oh,” she replied, her smile disappearing as she unwittingly bit her lower lip. She would have enjoyed the Colonel’s diverting company. Her eyes narrowed at the sudden thought that it might be Anne to whom he referred. If it was Anne, Rosalyn might hear of their “expected” marriage. She would be devastated. An unwitting look of concern swept across her features.
Darcy’s jaw clenched as he studied Elizabeth’s demeanour. “It is another cousin, Peter Hamilton, the son of my father’s sister.”
“I see,” Elizabeth replied.
“Well, unless you have any questions, I shall allow you to proceed to your rooms. The servants will show each of you the way,” Darcy said, giving a quick sharp bow. “I shall see you at supper.” With that, he turned to walk away.
As they followed the servants up the stairs, Elizabeth felt her elbow being grasped somewhat violently. She turned to see that Rosalyn was the culprit.
“You are acquainted with one of his cousins?” Rosalyn asked in a hushed, excited voice. “Why did you not tell me?”
Elizabeth looked at her with more than a little amazement, but answered quickly. “I did not know you were interested in Mr. Darcy’s cousin, as well.” She gave her a teasing smile.
“Of course not!” she said in a fervent whisper, squeezing her arm to bring her to a stop. “I have never met the man. Oh, Elizabeth, I do not mean to beleaguer you…” She let out a breathy huff. “I must confess, though, that there have been occasions when I have felt somewhat jealous of you and your earlier acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.”
“It was nothing, Rosalyn.” Elizabeth looked back to the stairs ahead of her as she began again to climb. She felt a tightening in her stomach as she repeated, “It was nothing.”
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, everyone was led down a hall and shown to their rooms. Their rooms were all situated closely, Elizabeth being in a room adjacent to Rosalyn, and Emily and her parents in separate rooms across the hall from them.
She followed the servant who carried her luggage into her chambers. Absent from Mr. Darcy she felt the freedom to sweep her eyes throughout the room, admiration filling her from everything she saw. She was in a corner room of the house, with large windows hugging each other where the walls met.
It was decorated with a slight feminine touch. Tiny flowers dotted the sheer window coverings and the thick coverlet on the bed. A sampler was hung prominently on one wall and a painting on another. A vase of fresh flowers displayed its array of colours atop a chest of drawers.
Stepping farther inside, she could almost imagine it being one of the finest rooms in the house; it was certainly finer than anything she had ever seen. When she took into consideration all she had seen of the house, however, she knew that there were most likely rooms of much greater consequence, particularly those of Mr. Darcy and his sister. This room was in all probability typical of what the others would be like.
The servant, having laid down her bags, bowed and stepped from the room. A maid then entered and walked over to a closet, opening the doors. When she disappeared within, Elizabeth could not stop herself from walking over and peeking inside. She almost bumped into the maid walking out.
“Is there any particular way you want me to unpack and put away your belongings, miss?” the maid asked.
“No,” answered Elizabeth, still gazing into the closet. Her mind went back to Rosings and how Mr. Collins commented on the astonishing shelves in the little closet. This closet had not only shelves but also beautifully stained wood drawers and was about as spacious inside as her room was back home.
Her stomach tightened as she considered home. What was her home now? It certainly was no longer Longbourn. She could not consider the Willstones’ home as hers. Her hand went up to her heart as the thought that this could have been hers pushed itself forward again.
“Is there anything not to your liking, Miss Bennet?” the maid asked as she looked over at her.
“No… no, it is more than suitable. Thank you.”
The maid smiled. “Have you seen the prospect outside your windows? I hope it is not too dark to see out now. Those two windows have the nicest views.”
Walking over to the two corner windows, Elizabeth pulled back one of the sheer window coverings and looked down at the lake in front. Even in the muted light of day, with the sun set beyond the horizon, it glistened. She could see the darkness of the dense trees in the woods beyond from which they came. She felt a flutter of excitement in the anticipation of walking through those woods.
She then peered out the other window. She looked out at what appeared to be a flower garden. “Is that a garden I see out this window?” she asked the maid.
“It certainly is… and it is blossoming with summer flowers of every hue. It has several natural paths that wind their way throughout, and one that takes you to the top of the ridge behind the home. Tomorrow you will be able to see just how beautiful it is!”
Elizabeth looked toward the back of the house and noticed the silhouette of a ridge. It did not seem terribly high, and she thought momentarily about how she might like to take the path to the top.
As Elizabeth turned away, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was grateful that she was no longer in mourning and had begun to wear colours again. For some reason that she could not clearly understand, the mere thought of walking through Pemberley and being in Mr. Darcy’s presence while dressed in drab blacks and greys was not something she wished to do, despite still missing her father exceedingly.
Elizabeth excused herself from the maid and walked across the wide hall to check on Emily. She peeked in and saw Emily pulling out a doll and her toys from a small bag. “Do you like your room, Emily?” she asked, walking in.
“Oh, yes,” Emily answered. “But I am glad to be in a room so close to Mama and Papa and you and Aunt Rosalyn. I think it is a very big house.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes it is,” she said as she walked over to the window and peered out. Emily’s room looked out over the back courtyard, and she could easily see both wings at either side that extended back. She could not even imagine how many rooms Pemberley had with its three stories and considerable length. She noticed once again the ridge behind the house and wondered what the view was from the top. She smiled as she considered that there would be much to explore here!
Elizabeth thought it was prudent that she take a tour of the house so she would become familiar with its layout and learn what areas there might be that were not open to her and Emily. But more than that, she was simply curious to see it. Rosalyn was more than happy to accompany her. Emily remained in her room to rest.
They encountered Mrs. Reynolds in the hallway, on her way to see if anyone wished to do that very thing. The Willstones declined, also wanting to rest, leaving only Rosalyn and Elizabeth to enjoy an intimate tour. The elderly woman, tall and stately with silver grey hair, began by giving them a brief history of the home, telling how it had been in the Darcy family for over two hundred years and had regularly provided a source of steady income for the villages nearby. She fervently told them that she had worked as housekeeper for twenty years, that she had been employed at Pemberley for over thirty-five years, and how the Darcys have always been greatly esteemed by all the servants, tenants, and local villagers.
She brought her hands together with a clap. “Well, enough of that. You wanted to see the house, so see the house we shall!”
As they walked down the hall, the housekeeper explained that most of the rooms in that wing of the house were guest apartments. “But here,” she said as she came to a stop, “is Miss Darcy’s favourite sitting room. Come
