She quietly opened her door and stepped out, stopping as she did to listen for others who might be awake. Hearing only the distant clanging of pans from the kitchen, and the subsequent aroma from the baking being done there, she quietly made her way downstairs.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply as the aroma, most likely breads being baked, wafted stronger as she proceeded down the stairs. She pondered whether to inform one of the servants that she would be going out, but reasoned that since it was still early, she would likely return before most of the others came out of their rooms. Breakfast, they had been told, would be served at eight o’clock.
As she stepped out the door, she came to a halt. Her senses were pleasantly assaulted with a myriad of birds singing their songs to the rising sun. A light breeze played with the ribbons on her bonnet and a few loose strands of her hair. Looking out across the grounds, her eyes soaked in the glistening waters of the lake and the stream that fed it. Drawing her eyes upward, she marvelled at the blue sky that was dotted with just a few clouds, pink and orange in the morning sky. The dense green woods on the other side of the lake tempted her to come hither and explore.
But not this morning. They had travelled through the woods in their approach yesterday. The woody ridge behind the home might take a little exertion on her part, but she was determined to look for the path that would take her to the top.
Walking toward the back of the great house, she was delighted to find a footpath that looked well travelled and eagerly began her ascent. The path curved effortlessly up the hillside, and she turned occasionally to see the prospect below. The house stood majestically before her, so immense in stature and breadth that it blocked most of her view of the lake and some of the woods beyond from this lower height.
As she neared the summit, Elizabeth stopped to regain her breath and she turned again to look down at the house and grounds. She was now able to see the depth of the woods, the winding stream that they had followed coming in, and the house. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it, standing tall and proud, situated prominently upon a sloping rise.
As her eyes swept the panorama before her, she let out a soft sigh. If indeed Mr. Darcy had feelings of affection for Rosalyn, her own presence here was an unfortunate thorn he had to endure for the sake of their acquaintance. She gave a swift kick to a stone in front of her, sending it off into a nearby thicket.
She glanced one more time at Pemberley below and then continued on her way. When at last she reached the top, she was greeted with a breathtaking view across the valley of the distant peaks of Derbyshire. Little villages dotted the countryside, and she was able to see a rather large river winding hither and thither, sending off little streams in various directions or taking the waters from some that flowed into it.
The sun had already crested up over the peaks, and she felt the promising warmth of the day as it beat down on her. She felt a greater sense of admiration for the sight than she did exertion from the walk, but upon noticing a small bench, she walked over to it and sat down. Her eyes took in every pleasing scene below. She enjoyed this temporary respite from her duties as governess and the grief that still stung in the loss of her father.
A noise from farther along the ridge drew Elizabeth’s attention. She turned her head sharply in its direction, expecting to see an animal. Instead, she was startled to see Mr. Darcy emerge from around a clump of trees. He halted in his stride as he met her gaze.
A small smile emerged on his face. “Miss Bennet, I see that you have… again… discovered my favourite place of retreat.”
Elizabeth abruptly stood up as he continued to walk toward her. “Pray, forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I did not mean to intrude. Please excuse me.”
She turned to leave, but just as suddenly Mr. Darcy reached out, and his hand briefly touched her arm to stay her. Even after he had removed it, she could still feel the warmth of its imprint.
“Do not feel as though you must leave,” he said as he turned to look out over the valley. “The panorama is here for anyone to enjoy as long as they are inclined to take the short climb up. Unfortunately, not many do.”
“It is beautiful,” she said, tilting her head and letting out a soft sigh. “It reminds me of Cowper’s poems. The ones in which he is so descriptive of the land.”
“Ah, you enjoy Cowper?” he asked. His voice softened, as he turned his gaze to the view. “‘While far beyond, and overthwart the stream that, as with molten glass, inlays the vale, the sloping land recedes into the clouds; displaying on its varied side the grace of hedge-row beauties numberless…’”
“Yes, much like that one,” Elizabeth replied, her heart pounding so violently she was quite certain, in that hushed moment, that Mr. Darcy could hear it.
“I believe Cowper wrote that verse inspired by this view.”
Elizabeth turned her head toward him in surprise. “No! Surely you jest, Mr. Darcy. Besides, in that same poem he mentions the River Ouse, and that is definitely not the River Ouse we see down there!”
Mr. Darcy smiled, sharply raising his brow. “Perhaps he did not write the full poem inspired by this view, but I do speak the truth when I say he was once a guest at Pemberley, Miss Bennet, and I like to think that this view contributed to his imagery he painted with words.”
“He truly stood in this spot?”
Mr. Darcy nodded.
Elizabeth smiled and bowed her head in acquiescence. “I shall grant you then, that it may have inspired him in part, but it could have just as easily been from the view atop Oakham Mount near Longbourn, as Mr. Cowper lived in Hertfordshire, you know.”
Mr. Darcy gave a mock bow. “And so I shall grant you that, Miss Bennet.” After a moment of silence Darcy asked, “Did you arrive up here this morning in time to see the sunrise?”
“I am afraid I did not.”
“Then you must promise me you will come up here early enough some morning to see it. It is usually quite stunning. Will you do that?”
“I most certainly will try.” The quiver in Elizabeth’s voice betrayed her confusion, and she quickly added, “I must go. Emily will be waking soon.”
Mr. Darcy reached out and touched her arm again, this time letting his hand linger a moment longer. “Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s heart pounded and she slowly looked up into his face. “Yes?”
He took in a deep breath as his eyes met hers. He studied her face for a moment and then said, “I would not wish for your stay at Pemberley to be awkward. I want to assure you that you are welcome here. When I invited the Willstones and Miss Matthews to Pemberley, I was well aware that you would be included in their party, and I want you to know that I harbour no ill feelings regarding what transpired between us. It is, I hope, all forgotten.”
Elizabeth moistened her lips as she heard his words. They were comforting, and yet at the same time, not. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I understand. If you will excuse me…” She gave a slight curtsey as Mr. Darcy bowed, and turned to return down the path.
She did not look back to see if he followed. Her feelings swirled with confusion. She was grateful for his attempt to alleviate her discomfiture, yet wondered if his words were another indication of his fondness for Rosalyn. Certainly he did not want her to inform Rosalyn about his offer of marriage. “
Elizabeth kept her eyes on the path on the way down, rarely turning her gaze to Pemberley. She kicked a rock that lay in her path as she tried to drive away the intruding thought that now, when she was finally beginning to see the good man that he was, she was no longer his equal, and he had now turned his affections toward Rosalyn.
When she returned to the house, she went to her room to freshen up, and then helped Emily get ready for breakfast, all the while pondering the Master of this home.
When Elizabeth brought Emily downstairs, they were met by Rosalyn, who greeted the pair enthusiastically. “Elizabeth, I am about to burst with my thoughts and feelings. We must get ourselves away sometime today so we can talk. I must tell you all that happened last evening.”
Elizabeth forced a smile. “We shall have the whole morning before the picnic. Perhaps we can meet after breakfast?”
“Yes! That would be wonderful. Shall we meet in the sitting room Mrs. Reynolds showed us yesterday? We should be out of the way of others in there.”
Elizabeth could only nod in agreement to this scheme, for Mr. Darcy approached. “Good morning,
