“There is no need for that,” Elizabeth protested with a warm laugh.
“Oh, but there is. As soon as it began to rain, he asked to be notified when you returned.”
Mrs. Reynolds curtseyed and walked away, leaving Elizabeth to wonder whether he wished to be notified because she was merely his guest or because he was concerned about her. Her heart beat loudly as she took the stairs up to her room, feeling a greater admiration for the man—whether he wished her to or not.
Elizabeth was awakened in the night by the sound of a hard, driving rain lashing against the window pane. With a sigh of resignation, she realized her hopes for a sunny, rain-freshened morning were doubtful. She curled up underneath the blankets, pulling them up over her shoulders, grateful for the warm and dry sanctuary that Pemberley offered.
A flash of lightning lit the room, followed a few seconds later by a deep rumbling. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, reaching for her robe. She knew that Emily would likely be awakened by the thunder, and she would be ready to go to her if her parents did not.
She walked over to her window and peered out, unable to distinguish anything, even when the flashes of light lit the sky. The rain was so fierce; it ran down the window in torrents. Another boom, this time louder, shook the room. Elizabeth knew immediately that she would soon hear Emily call for her, so she walked across the hall to her room, taking a quilted coverlet with her.
She opened Emily’s door quietly and stepped in. She did not hear the girl stirring, so she tiptoed over to a chair and sat down, draping the coverlet over her. She leant her head back and closed her eyes. With the next flash of light and deafening thunder, Emily awakened and let out a whimper.
Elizabeth immediately rose from the chair and walked over to the bed. She stroked the little girl’s head. “I am here, Emily. There is nothing to fear.”
“Why does it have to be so loud?” she asked as she buried her head against Elizabeth.
“It must be fairly close,” Elizabeth said soothingly. “But remember, the thunder cannot hurt you.”
“Gladys told me it is so loud because God is angry,” she said fretfully.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Perhaps not angry,” she assured her. “He is just reminding us how powerful He is. If the thunder were only a whimpering rumble, we would not think Him powerful at all.”
“Is it good that He is powerful?” Emily asked.
“Oh, yes,” answered Elizabeth. “For then we know He can answer our prayers.”
“Does He answer all our prayers?”
Elizabeth thought back to Rosalyn asking Elizabeth to pray for success in her scheme to attract Mr. Darcy’s attention. Shaking her head, she said, “If He does not think it best for us, He will not. We have to trust Him for His answer, whether it is what we want or not.” She knew that perhaps any prayer she prayed seeking Mr. Darcy’s affection may not be answered as she desired as well.
She stayed with the young girl for the remainder the night, falling asleep on the edge of her bed as the thunder and lightning gradually diminished. The rain, however, kept up its steady deluge.
At dawn, as a muted light crept into Emily’s room, Elizabeth awakened. She sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed her shoulder, which ached due to the awkward position in which she had slept.
She walked over to the window and looked out. Just looking down at the flooded courtyard sent a shiver through her, and she pulled her robe tightly about her. She doubted there would be any outdoor amusements today.
Later that morning, as they gathered for breakfast, Miss Darcy informed the party that due to all the rain, Mr. Darcy, along with his cousin, had gone out early with his steward to survey the land. She hoped they would return shortly. Her demeanour reflected a slight reticence at having the responsibility of everyone’s comfort without her brother by her side and a storm outside.
Rosalyn’s face displayed her great disappointment for the same reason. In watching her, Elizabeth wondered about their excursion the previous day. There had been no Rosalyn coming to her room last night or this morning to confide in her whether her hopes and expectations had been met—or dashed.
Elizabeth listened with a curious ear for talk about their tour the previous day; however, everyone was more apt to express concern about the rain and their hopes that it would end soon.
Elizabeth decided to spend the day with Emily going over her studies. Their time in the country had allowed for their lessons to be sporadic, at best.
Emily had enjoyed the recent respite from memorizing the dates and reigns of the kings of England and identifying the countries and their capitals on a map. She had hoped today would be another day of leisure without those lessons, and was disappointed when Elizabeth remained firm.
As somewhat of an enticement to Emily, it was proposed that she and the Goldsmith girls would have some of their lessons together. This produced much excitement amongst the three young girls, and they happily endured their lessons for most of the morning.
Later, Emily had her lessons in the music room. It was apparent to Elizabeth that Emily needed a great deal more practice, and she was grateful for the opportunity to refresh her skills. With the stay at Pemberley being two weeks long, she felt strongly that there might be an evening of music that would afford Emily the occasion to perform. She wanted to ensure her young ward would perform adeptly.
They sat at the pianoforte practicing a duet, Elizabeth playing the more difficult lower part, and Emily the easier higher part. As they played, Miss Darcy walked in quietly and sat down.
When Elizabeth noticed her, she abruptly stopped. “Miss Darcy, you must wish to play. Emily is looking for any excuse to begin reciting her kings.” She looked at Emily with a teasing smile.
“No, I heard you play and thought I would come in and listen. It sounded very nice.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, and then turned to Emily. “What do you say, Emily?”
“Thank you, Miss Darcy,” she dutifully replied.
“I shall sit here quietly and read, if it is no bother.” She sat down in a chair and opened her book.
Elizabeth turned her attention back to Emily, but wondered why Miss Darcy would have come in here, knowing how much she enjoyed the other sitting room. She had suspected that she felt overwhelmed by the unexpected departure of her brother with all the guests looking to her for some sort of diversion. She must have given everyone leave to spend the morning at their own leisure.
At one point, Elizabeth looked up and noticed Miss Darcy watching. “Miss Darcy,” she said. “I understand that you are quite proficient at the pianoforte. Would you have some advice for Emily?”
Georgiana’s face brightened. “I would be honoured to give her advice.” She arose swiftly and walked over. Sitting down on the bench on the other side of Emily, she quietly watched her play, and then gave her a few helpful suggestions on finger placement, touch, and rhythm.
Georgiana worked with Emily for close to an hour. At length, Emily began to practice on her own while Elizabeth and Georgiana walked over to some chairs and sat down. “Miss Darcy, you have a natural gift not only of playing, but of teaching,” smiled Elizabeth.
Georgiana’s face lit up. “Do you really think so?”
“I do. Have you taught anyone to play before?”
A slight blush crept across Georgiana’s face. “No, I merely taught Miss Willstone in the manner in which I remember learning.”
Elizabeth smiled at her. “You not only give very helpful instruction, but your manner is very gentle and patient.”
“Thank you,” Georgiana appeared to greatly appreciate this compliment. “I think I would enjoy imparting my love for music to someone else, although it is truly something I have never really considered doing. I believe I am expected to perform, not teach. Perhaps someday, however, I will teach my own children.”
Elizabeth let out an appreciative laugh. “Yes, perhaps you shall.”
“You must feel a great sense of fulfilment in teaching Emily.”
“It is something
“Was that when your father died?”
