Falling at Pemberley Ch 9

I am sure you are all wondering what Mr. Westerfield saw, what he knew, and what he is going to say. Hope you enjoy Chapter 9! Here is the link to Chapter 1 if you have just come upon this story.

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Chapter 9

Darcy shifted in his chair, wondering what Mr. Westerfield had seen and what he suspected. He recollected the severity of this gentleman’s temper; while it did not flare often, when it did, it was fierce. “I am certain it was nothing. People get caught out in the rain all the time.” He hoped to keep his voice indifferent, which was quite the opposite of how he was feeling.

“Well, although I could not see who it was, I could definitely see that a man was carrying a lady. They came from the potting shed down by the rose garden and had covered themselves with a large cloth of some kind, presumably to keep themselves dry.” A sombre look overspread his features. “Or to conceal their identity.”

Darcy’s concerns over what his guest may have seen were somewhat eased. It appeared he had not seen that is was him holding Elizabeth in his arms. He stole a quick glance at her, as he warmed at the remembrance. She was sitting perfectly still, her face averted from him.

“They were coming from the potting shed?” Georgiana asked, her eyes wide as she looked across the table at her brother.

Darcy gave a very slight nod of his head.

“Indeed,” continued Westerfield. “The one down by the rose garden. My guess is it was most likely secret lovers having a clandestine meeting.”

Darcy’s eyes widened at his guest’s words as his insides roiled, feeling more concern for Elizabeth’s apparent discomfiture than anything else. Although this time he did not turn to look at her, he could see that she was staring down at her plate. He reached for his goblet and sipped some wine as he determined what to say in response. Fortunately, Mrs. Westerfield spared him from the task.

“Oh, Frederick, you ought not say such things with young ladies present!” She sent him a scolding look.

Mr. Westerfield leaned back into his chair, stretching one arm out across the table and fingering the stem of his goblet. He glanced at the three young ladies. “My apologies.” Then he looked at Darcy. “But you need to keep a tight rein on your servants.” He shook his head. “This kind of behaviour should never be tolerated. You must always demand propriety.”

As Darcy drew in a breath to speak, Elizabeth lifted her eyes to him. He could see they were filled with regret, and he could not help but wonder if she felt distress that someone had seen them. Or worse, did she feel such loathing towards him that she despised the idea that someone would even hint that she was his secret lover – albeit unknowingly? At length, he said, “I doubt it was as…” Darcy swallowed hard and continued, “…as imprudent as you assumed, Westerfield.”

“Oh, I am certain my father did not imply that you do not have a tight rein on your staff, Mr. Darcy.” Miss Westerfield smiled sweetly. “I am certain he spoke more as a generality.” She looked at her father. “Did you not?”

“Of course.” Mr. Westerfield shook his head. “I hope no one has taken offense.”

Darcy politely nodded.

An awkward silence filled the room. It appeared to Darcy that the Gardiners felt as discomfited as did he, his sister, and Miss Bennet. Elizabeth must have told him of their accidental meeting there. He was also fairly certain Georgiana realized it had been Elizabeth and him. He truly hoped Mr. Westerfield had been oblivious to their identity, as he had declared.

As if intent to change the subject, Miss Westerfield looked at Mr. Darcy. “That brings to mind the time our family was visiting at Pemberley, and your mother warned us that it looked like rain, but we wanted so much to play outside.” A smile lit her face. “Do you recollect what happened?”

Darcy nodded, unable to keep the smile from his face. “I do. How could I forget? We sneaked from the house and set out for the stables.”

Miss Westerfield laughed. “Yes. I was seven, I believe, and you were eleven. Once at the stables, we saw a litter of kittens nestled in the hay, but we did not see their mother. I was intent on staying with them until the mother returned.”

“And you sent me looking for a box we could put them in to bring them into the house if she did not return.”

“And before we knew it, the rains came,” Miss Westerfield said. “A mighty deluge.”

“The rains came, but not the mother. And little did we know that our own mothers were back at the house frantically looking for us.”

Mrs. Westerfield shook her head. “I will never forget that! We determined that the two of you had run off somewhere. You were always going on adventures. I think one of the servants had seen you leave the house. We thought you would return when the rain began, but our concern grew when you did not come in as the rain intensified.”

“I refused to leave the kittens there. Finally, the mother came in drenched from the rain, but as happy as she could be to be reunited with her kittens.”

Darcy nodded. “We returned to the house as drenched as that cat was, to our own mothers who were happy to be reunited with us, but displeased we had not told anyone where we were going.”

Miss Westerfield drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Little did we know how lucky those kittens were that we found them.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. He hoped she had not remembered, but apparently she had.

“Why do you say that?” Elizabeth asked.

“The next day we went back to see them, and just as we arrived, we found George Wickham carrying two of them away.” She began to slowly shake her head. “When we asked him what he was doing, he had the nerve to inform us he intended to use them as target practice.” Miss Westerfield shuddered. “He had a new gun he wanted to try out. I was so angry at him! I could not believe anyone would do such a cruel thing!”

Mr. Westerfield turned to Darcy. “I hear he has gone quite bad. It is a shame after all your father did for him.”

“He was always so charming and such a fine looking man!” Mrs. Westerfield exclaimed. “But you combine those two traits, and I guarantee you some innocent young lady will suffer if captivated by his allure.”

“I would not be surprised to hear he has ruined more than one young life,” Mr. Westerfield added.

Darcy said nothing, keeping his eyes on his sister. She had grown pale and looked down. He then noticed something else. Elizabeth had also turned to her. She had not looked at him; she had looked at his sister with a look of compassion on her face. In the midst of this revelation and the pain it must have caused his sister, he felt a leap of joy inside. He was now confident Elizabeth had read his letter!

Elizabeth turned to Miss Westerfield. “Did you visit Pemberley often when you were younger?”

All talk of Wickham ceased as Miss Westerfield and her mother shared story after story about their visits at Pemberley and times the Darcys came to visit them at Alderbrook. The ladies carried the conversation, allowing Darcy to quietly listen – and further consider the unexpectedness of Miss Elizabeth Bennet being in his home. She had gently redirected the conversation away from Wickham, and for that he was most grateful.

It appeared his sister had handled the story about Wickham with very little apparent distress. While he had been able to see it, and he was certain Elizabeth had seen it, as well, no one else seemed to pay her any mind.

*~*~*

After dinner, the ladies were invited to join Miss Darcy in the sitting room, while the men remained in the small dining room for their after-dinner drinks.

The Westerfield ladies seemed more inclined to speak to Miss Darcy, mostly about her brother, and especially concerning his ability to sing. Elizabeth was content to listen, for Mr. Darcy’s sister confirmed everything she had heard about him since coming to Pemberley. It was apparent by the look on the Westerfield ladies’ faces that they were delighted to hear such praise for the man who might one day join their family through matrimony, while Elizabeth attempted to conceal her thoughts and feelings for that very reason. It would not do for her to give the appearance that she was interested in the gentleman, as well.

She could not help but think of the conversation about Mr. Darcy’s and Miss Westerfield’s early years. She felt a twinge of jealousy; they had known each other so long and had shared years of memories together. There was absolutely nothing about Miss Westerfield with which she could find fault. She seemed perfectly suited for Mr. Darcy – and she had likely never insulted him to his face with words she could never take back.

When the men returned, Mr. Gardiner expressed his wish to return directly to his room, as he was fatigued. Elizabeth was glad to take her leave of the others, as she found it difficult to be in the presence of the woman who would eventually be Pemberley’s mistress.

As they walked back to their rooms, Mrs. Gardiner turned to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, I hope you do not mind if I give you a little advice.”

“You know that I respect you a great deal, Aunt, and appreciate any good counsel you have to offer.”

Mrs. Gardiner drew in a breath, took Elizabeth’s hand, and very kindly said, “A gentleman likes to be respected in what he says and does, and since we are guests, and Mr. Darcy is master of this house and our host, I believe you ought to take care in expressing your opinions when they go against his.”

“But you know I always speak as I find.”

“Yes, I know,” Mrs. Gardiner said as she patted Elizabeth’s hand. “But remember, he has other guests, as well, and his sister hinted that he might be settling his affections on Miss Westerfield. He most likely does not appreciate having someone – particularly a young lady – disagree with him at every turn when he hopes to make a good impression on a young lady and her family.”

Elizabeth blew out a puff of air. She knew her aunt was wise, and she trusted her judgment, but she recollected all the times in Hertfordshire and Kent their conversations bantered back and forth. If he had disliked it so and found her impertinent because of it, why had he asked for her hand?

She turned to her aunt. “You are most likely correct, and I suppose I did become rather contrary to his expressed opinions on several subjects tonight.”

“It is just a word of caution, Lizzy, for we would not want Mr. Darcy to regret inviting us to join him and his guests, now, would we?”

“No, I suppose we would not.”

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled. “If you find yourself tempted to disagree with something, hold it in until you are alone with me, and then you can express your outrage to your heart’s content.”

When they reached Mr. Gardiner’s room and stepped inside, Mrs. Gardiner closed the door. “Now, having said that, Lizzy, what were you thinking when Mr. Westerfield began speaking about seeing the couple run from the shed?”

Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed. “I was mortified that he had seen Mr. Darcy and me and wondered at first if he knew it was us.” She noticed the look on her aunt’s face. “Truly, Aunt, there was really no other way to get back to the house. I was more mortified by what Mr. Westerfield insinuated than worried that he knew who it was. I cannot imagine how Mr. Darcy felt.”

“Well, it appears Westerfield did not know who it was, and for that we can be grateful.” Mr. Gardiner raised a brow at his niece. “Or would you have preferred he did realize who it was? Would it have made things easier if he knew it had been the two of you, and he packed up his belongings and his family in disgust and left Pemberley?”

“I really do not know what I want or do not want at the moment, Uncle, aside from sleep. I think I shall go to my room.” She kissed them both and wished them a good night.

“Good night, Lizzy,” her aunt said.

“Sleep well!” her uncle added.

Despite being fatigued, Elizabeth could not settle her thoughts enough to fall asleep. So much had happened. Had she truly just encountered him only today?

She considered her aunt’s admonition to her and thought about the times she had countered his opinions – challenged him, even! She had found it exhilarating, if she owned the truth. He was intelligent and even kind in his responses to her, even when he did not agree with her. But if he disliked being confronted in such a manner, why did he eventually ask for her hand?

She rolled over in bed and dug her hands under her pillow, placing her head firmly down upon it. He seemed even more of an enigma to her than he ever had before, but despite that, she felt in great danger of having an ever-increasing fondness for the man she had cruelly refused to marry.

*~*~*

Elizabeth awoke after suffering through only a few hours of sleep, her mind still in turmoil. She had finally conceded that she could ill afford to upset or embarrass Mr. Darcy with her differing opinions. He was being gracious to her and her family, despite the abominable way she had treated him a few months back. He had been extending to them the most generous and gracious hospitality, more than she and her relations deserved or expected.

She would honour her aunt’s request, and if she found herself at odds with a topic of conversation, she would hold her tongue so as not to provoke him or his guests. He deserved only the utmost respect. She could only hope she was capable of doing it!

Elizabeth walked to the window and looked out as the rising sun shone through a hazy mist. It appeared there would be no more rain, but it was still muddy outside; otherwise, she would have taken a walk. She would love to take a leisurely stroll across a meadow or run wildly through the woods as she attempted to sort out the array of thoughts and feelings assaulting her.

She sat quietly, waiting for her aunt to waken, and after they had dressed, they both went to see how Mr. Gardiner was faring.

He was still suffering from a little pain and stiffness, so they sent a message to Mr. and Miss Darcy by way of Mrs. Reynolds that they would remain in their room to break their fast instead of going to the dining room. Mr Gardiner did not think he could make that long of a walk again so soon, so they thanked them for the previous evening and hoped that a good day of rest would be all he needed.

Mrs. Reynolds came by with both Elizabeth’s bonnet and a message from Mr. Darcy. He hoped to see them again that evening in the small dining room if Mr. Gardiner felt up to it. Elizabeth could not help but feel a tinge of regret that he did not come himself.

The doctor came by later that morning, and while he was there, Elizabeth returned to her room. She opened the book she had picked up in Mr. Darcy’s library and sat down to read. At length, there was a light tap on her door.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door opened slowly, and Miss Darcy peered in. “I hope I am not disturbing you.”

“Oh, no, I am only reading. Come and join me.” Elizabeth pointed to a chair across from her. “What can I do for you?”

A pained look crossed Miss Darcy’s face. “In truth, I am seeking a respite from Miss Westerfield.”

Elizabeth’s brows lifted in surprise. “Miss Westerfield? Why is that?”

Miss Darcy shook her head. “When my brother is occupied, as he is now, she always seeks me out.”

“I see. She seems nice. Is there… is there something you dislike about her?”

“Oh, no. She is very kind and attentive… very attentive.” She lifted her hands in frustration. “There are times I need to be alone, and she does not seem to understand that.”

“Is now one of those times?”

Georgiana nodded.

“Could you not sequester yourself in your chambers for a short while?”

“Oh, I am certain she would seek me out.”

Elizabeth could not help but smile. “You claim you wanted some time alone, and yet you came here. May I ask why?”

Georgiana shrugged. “I feel as though I can talk to you. It is not…” Georgiana paused and twisted her face in thought. “I do not feel as though it is a lot of work and effort for me to talk to you. You make it easy.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Truly? And you do not feel that way with Miss Westerfield?”

Georgiana pursed her lips, as if she were considering her words. “While Miss Westerfield is very kind, the only things she wants to talk about with me are my brother and Pemberley.” She let out a puff of air. “I feel as though I am merely a source of information for her about them and she is not at all interested in who I am.”

“I see.” Elizabeth searched the young lady’s face; she could readily see the desperate look of someone who wanted to be liked for herself and not for her brother or her home.

Miss Darcy looked down at her fingers, which she was nervously knitting together. “Miss Bennet, I want to apologize for the remarks Mr. Westerfield made last evening.” She slowly looked up with a small smile. “My brother informed me how you sought refuge in the potting shed while he was there, and I realized he must have been the one who was carrying you, so you would not get wet and muddy. We are certain Mr. Westerfield is not aware that it was either of you.” She reached out and placed her fingers on Elizabeth’s hand. “We regret any discomfiture you might have felt last night when he gave his account of what he saw.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips together and drew in a deep breath. “I own I felt somewhat disconcerted, as I am certain your brother did, but I know Mr Westerfield did not mention it to cause any of us unease.”

“My brother and I are both very sorry.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I do not blame you, so there is no reason for the two of you to be sorry.”

Miss Darcy stood up and walked over to window. She drew in a long breath before speaking. “I do not know if you are aware, Miss Bennet, but my brother invited the Westerfields to Pemberley because he is… he is considering asking for Miss Westerfield’s hand.” She turned and looked at Elizabeth with what seemed to be a studied expression.

Elizabeth felt her heart pound at hearing those words. “I… I had wondered whether that might be the case.” She could not help but wonder if the young girl was giving her a cautionary warning and wished she knew whether Miss Darcy was aware of all that had happened between her and her brother. She lifted her eyes and tried to smile.  “How do you feel about it?” She hoped the young lady had not noticed the quaver in her voice.

“She is kind and very pretty, but…” Georgiana came and sat across from Elizabeth on the bed. “I do not know if she is particularly suited for him.”

Elizabeth smiled and took her hand. “You would likely feel that way about any lady he would consider marrying, for I suspect you feel that lady will be taking someone away from you whom you consider very special.”

“I do love him dearly, but I do not want him making a mistake.”

Elizabeth drew in a breath. “It shows what a caring sister you are.”

She shook her head. “He brought her here with the intention of getting to know her better. They have not spent a great deal of time together recently, you see.” She drew in a breath. “While that was his main intention – and an engagement was certainly a possibility – rumours began swirling around the Ton that it was a settled matter and he would ask for her hand directly.”

“Do you think she and her family are expecting him to offer for her?”

The young girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “I do, but… I have said too much.” She let out a nervous laugh. “As I said, for some reason it is very easy for me to talk to you.”

Elizabeth forced herself to smile. “I thank you.”

Georgiana seemed to search her face for a moment and then said, “I shall leave you now. Will we see you this evening?”

“We hope to be able to join you.”

Georgiana stepped out, and Elizabeth pressed her hand to her neck. She closed her eyes as she considered Miss Darcy’s words and wondered if she knew how her brother had once felt about her. She shook her head and began to walk about the room.

“No, I cannot assume he feels anything for me anymore!” She felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes and tried to hold them back. One tear, however, slowly made its way down her cheek. Wiping it away, she stopped at the window and gazed out.

The sun was winning its battle against the haze, and she looked forward to exploring more of Pemberley’s grounds on the morrow. Hopefully everything would be dry.

Elizabeth joined her aunt and uncle after the doctor left. He had told her uncle the pain he was experiencing today was to be expected after the increase in movement and activity the day before, but admonished him to rest as much as he felt he needed. He assured them that he did not believe the pain was due to any further injury.

He also informed them that perhaps he might be fit to travel again in two to three days.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were delighted to receive the news, but Elizabeth could not fully rally her spirits. While it would be best for her peace of mind to leave, she found herself enjoying Mr. Darcy’s company far too much and did not wish to be out of his presence. She knew once they departed Pemberley, she would never see him again, for he would likely ask for Miss Westerfield’s hand. It was all she could do to keep her tears from spilling over.

*~*~*

After resting throughout the day, Mr. Gardiner felt he was up to walking to the dining room for the evening meal. They informed Mrs. Reynolds they would be joining everyone.

When they came into the sitting room, as they had the previous evening, they were greeted with smiles and laughter.

“We have just had Mr. Darcy’s assurance that there will be a musical soiree two evenings from tonight.” Mrs Westerfield smiled and then looked at her daughter. “Angeline will sing and play, Miss Darcy will play, and Mr. Darcy has agreed to sing.” She clasped her hands together. “Shall you delight us with your singing or playing, Miss Bennet? Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. Gardiner, will you be participants or observers?”

“Well, I…” Elizabeth began, and all eyes turned to her. “I will play and sing – as long as I have an instrument on which to practice.”

Mrs. Gardiner waved her hand through the air. “Edmund and I shall be delighted to be observers, thank you. He would not be up to performing – he plays the viola, but I imagine it would prove too stressful for his back.”

“In addition to the fact that I do not have my viola with me,” he said with a laugh. “My dear wife did not think we had room for it on our journey.”

Everyone laughed, and Elizabeth was grateful her uncle seemed to be doing so much better. She looked around the room and listened as everyone cheerfully talked about how delightful their small soiree would be. Save for Darcy, who seemed to be looking, but not seeing, his mind fixed on some completely different object. Perhaps he was wondering when he would ask for Miss Westerfield’s hand. Or perhaps it was the urgent matter that had brought him home a day early.

*~*~*

During the meal, Elizabeth was on her best behaviour – at least according to her aunt’s standards. While she was tempted to offer a contrary opinion on several occasions, she chose to answer with a polite nod, an affirming murmur, or complete silence. She did not trust herself to answer in a way she did not truly feel.

When the last course of the meal was being served, Elizabeth was ready for this charade to be finished. She realized she missed the banter she had had with Mr. Darcy back at Netherfield and Kent, but she would be obedient to her aunt’s wishes.

At length, the subject of his library came up.

“It is a thing of beauty, Darcy,” Mr. Westerfield said.

“Thank you. I am rather proud of the collection of books I have. I enjoy reading a variety of subjects.”

“As should everyone!” exclaimed Miss Westerfield.

Elizabeth had to stifle the smile as she recollected the extent of Miss Westerfield’s interest in the library seemed to be mainly to impress her guests one day as Mistress of Pemberley.

Darcy continued speaking with Mr. Westerfield, and therefore, she turned her attention to the conversation Georgiana was having with Miss Westerfield. Elizabeth suspected that the young girl knew of Miss Westerfield’s lack of interest reading. “My brother owns a very large collection of historical and biographical books.” She shook her head and pinched her brows. “He insists that I read at least one a week to expand my knowledge. It is very important to him to be informed of the events and people of the past.” She drew in a resigned breath. “I am convinced he shall one day also demand it of his wife and children.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she quickly looked down, but not before seeing Miss Westerfield’s face grow pale.

“Does he truly?” she asked and then looked at Mr. Darcy.

Georgiana nodded. “Do you enjoy reading historical and biographical books? Some can be so large and so dull!”

“Well, I… not very often, but I believe I could.”

Elizabeth looked up to see Georgiana smile and turn her attention back to her plate. She was not certain, but it appeared that Georgiana had unnerved Miss Westerfield in laying forth these expectations her brother may – or may not – have.  But if it was not something Mr. Darcy demanded, his next words seemed to indicate she was right – if only partially.

“I have a great many books of poetry in my collection. I believe everyone ought to have a great appreciation for rhyme. It is timeless and holds aesthetic value.”

A chorus of agreement came from those at the table.

Mrs. Westerfield clasped her hands in glee. “Mr. Westerfield showered me with sonnets when we met. It was what made me fall in love with him – that and his ready smile and bright blue eyes.” She looked at him and smiled, and then back to Mr. Darcy. “He even wrote some especially for me.”

“Ah yes, poetry is the food of love,” Darcy said, suddenly directing his gaze at Elizabeth. “What are your thoughts on poetry, Miss Bennet? Does it nourish and encourage love… or might it starve it away entirely?”

She was startled that he directed his question at her until she recollected their conversation at Netherfield about poetry. Was he inciting her to challenge his stated opinion on the subject?

“I think…” She paused and looked at her aunt, who was eyeing her warily. Turning back to Mr. Darcy, she said, “I think a sonnet will have whatever effect on love the person reading it desires.”

Mr Westerfield laughed. “Now that is a safe statement, and if that is the case, then it matters not whether the poems I wrote my wife were good or bad. She would have come to love me as long as she had the desire to.” He lifted up his glass to Elizabeth. “So now we know.”

Everyone laughed at his comment, except Elizabeth. She looked across the table at Mr. Darcy who was looking at her curiously, with a raised brow and lips pressed tightly together. 

She shuddered as she realized he was looking at her much the same way he had in Hertfordshire, when she believed him to be studying her to find fault with her. She quickly averted her gaze, reached for her goblet, and took a sip of her wine.

 

Chapter 10