Elizabeth imagined her uncertainty was written all over her face.
“Thank you, Anna. I think most of the loveliness is due to your hard work and skill.” With that, Elizabeth turned and picked her gloves up from the dresser.
“You look marvellous, my dear,” her uncle said as Elizabeth reached them at the bottom of the staircase.
Mr. Barlow added, “Edward and I will be arriving with the two most beautiful ladies in the county.” Elizabeth smiled and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you both for the kind words. And thank you, Aunt, for the dress and allowing Anna to spend so much time on my hair.”
“You are most welcome, Lizzy. I did not suffer for it. My hair is easy enough. It does not have a mind of its own, as yours seems to.”
“You look wonderful. Head to toe,” Elizabeth told her, only a little jealous at how quickly her aunt could transform her locks into the elegant chignon she now wore. It was true that hers took a great deal more convincing, and most often that meant she did not bother with anything intricate but settled for a braid or a simple knot—even for the few dances she had attended since her come-out.
The party took their cloaks and coats from Mrs. Gladden and Mr. Sims and made their way to the carriage for the short ride to Pemberley. Mrs. Gardiner sat beside Elizabeth in the forward-facing seat, their arms linked as Elizabeth allowed her excitement to bubble over in exclamations of delight and questions about what to expect. A few minutes later, they reached the driveway, which was lit every hundred yards orso with torches on either side. It lent a festive quality to the event before they had even arrived, as did the number of other conveyances in front of and behind their own, whose lanterns lent additional glimmer to the pathway.
The Gardiners’ carriage joined the short line of conveyances approaching Pemberley’s front entrance. When they reached the front and their footman opened the door, Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Barlow descended, and then the latter stood ready to assist the ladies down. The familiar sight of Pemberley’s grand entrance was transformed with ropes of garland, boughs of holly and sprigs of mistletoe. Just inside, the stairs leading to the main floor were adorned with candles in glass jars surrounded by sprigs of holly, ivy and rosemary on both sides of each of the ten stairs leading up to the public hall and beyond that, the ballroom. There the family stood, greeting their guests. As they joined the line waiting to offer their greetings, Elizabeth looked about, taking in the decorations and the many faces, familiar and otherwise. Even from this distance, they remained on the top stair, about ten guests away from Mr. Darcy at the start of the family line, and she could smell the cinnamon apple cider that she had come to associate with Pemberley.
“Mr. Barlow, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth: welcome to Pemberley’s Twelfth Night gathering,” Mr. Darcy boomed. “Miss Elizabeth, we are so glad you are with us this year. Your presence will make the night complete. And ladies, might I say you are lovely. Miss Elizabeth, I am struck by how grown-up you look. Though I like to think you will always be the little girl I first met, I must admit now you are in truth a fine young lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” both Elizabeth and her aunt responded.
“Now, son, it is your turn to compliment the ladies,” Mr. Darcy teased. “You must bear with us; I am trying to teach Master Fitzwilliam how to be charming like his father.”
“Now that my father has made you think any words I might utter are part of a lesson and not sincere praise, I hope you will believe me when I say you both look very well this evening.” He took each of their hands in turn. Before releasing Elizabeth’s, he added, “That colour suits you, Miss Elizabeth.”
The ladies offered their thanks, with Mrs. Gardiner assuring him he was, as always, just as charming as his father. Elizabeth was grateful for her aunt’s words, which offered kindness and gave her a moment to collect herself.
Before they spoke, she had not allowed herself to look beyond Mr. Darcy to his son, sure the sight of him in his finery under the candlelight would be too much for her. And so his compliment, said in his customary formal, gentle tone, along with her first glimpse of him, were nearly overwhelming. As he exchanged pleasantries with her family, she took the opportunity to take him in. He wore a black coat trimmed with dark green, his bright white cravat provided a sharp contrast, and an emerald pin winked out from its folds. The candlelight bounced off his sable curls and shone in the reflection of his eyes. Suddenly, the night seemed to promise something special.
“Lizzy, you look simply magnificent,” Georgiana gushed as she reached towards her friend, practically elbowing her brother out of the way. The girls took turns praising one another’s gowns, hair and accessories. “You know you need not retire with me after the first dance. I know you said you mean to, but I will not be at all put out if you decide to enjoy yourself amongst the others for the remainder of the evening if you choose to.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, assuring her friend that she would keep to their plan, her uncle interrupted.
“While I am loath to disturb thistête-à-tête, I feel we must move into the room as we are holding up the line.”
There were several couples waiting behind the Gardiners to greet their hosts and enter the ballroom. Elizabeth briefly registered a few familiar faces: the proprietors of the Rose and Crown, whose names she could not recall, and Mr. and Mrs. Sheffly and their son, Winston. Their estate bordered Barlow Hall on the west, and the Gardiners hosted them on occasion during her summer visits.
“I will join you as soon as Father releases me,” Georgiana whispered to Elizabeth as she and her family moved away.
Mr. Barlow offered his arm, and he and Elizabeth preceded the Gardiners into the grand ballroom. Though she had seen it many times before, Elizabeth was awestruck by the transformation. Candles glowed from the chandeliers above and from the sconces lined along two of the walls. Flames licked the edges of the grand marble fireplaces, situated across from one another at the centre of the room. As a result, though it was January, the room was quite warm, and as it began to fill with more and more guests, it became almost too much so for Elizabeth in her wool gown. The decorations in the entryway and outer hall had been impressive but were nothing compared to those adorning the room. Holly, pine boughs, mistletoe and ivy filled the space with bursts of green. The boughs and laurel wreaths all had bows and ribbons of red, white and silver. Together, the smell of the greenery, the bright colours and twinkling lights created a magical atmosphere.
“I see the Robertsons are here,” Mr. Gardiner said as the foursome turned, having made their way to a table filled with meats and fruits alongside drinks. Mr. Barlow handed Elizabeth one of the crystal glasses, and she eagerly took a sip.
“Who are the Robertsons?” Elizabeth asked, looking to the family in question, composed of a handsome older couple and what appeared to be two sons who she guessed were Darcy’s age or possibly a little younger.
“They hold Pemberley’s largest tenancy. Their farm is almost five hundred acres, I believe,” Mr. Gardiner answered.
“Indeed, Robertson is an excellent farmer, and Darcy and myself learned much from him when we took over our own estates. Both of our fathers had been somewhat reluctant to institute any of the newer farming or harvesting techniques and equipment, but Robertson never met an innovation he didn’t like. Never afraid to try new things. If they didn’t work, he simply moved on, and so we benefited from his successes and failures—he generously shared both.”
Elizabeth thought about this. Her father was younger than Mr. Barlow and Mr. Darcy and likely this Mr. Robertson too, but he sounded more like the men of the previous generation. Though with him it was less an aversion to new things than to exertion of any kind. Newer equipment and practises required some form of effort beyond the perfunctory, and Mr. Bennet preferred not to exert himself. She loved her father but often wished he were different in this regard.
“I should like to meet them, if you would introduce us,” Elizabeth said. “I am thankful that my first formal event atPemberley is one with people from the village and Pemberley’s tenants.”
“I am sure the Robertsons would be glad to meet you,” Mrs. Gardiner said, indicating they should make their way over to where that family stood, beside the quartet strumming quietly. “And as to the guests—it is a Twelfth Night tradition begun, I believe, by Mr. Darcy’s grandfather. Pemberley hosts all of the principal families from the different parts of our little society—the shop owners, the tenants and the nearby estates.”
Mr. Gardiner introduced her to the Mr. and Mrs. Robertson and their sons – Edmund and John. A few minutes of pleasant conversation followed. However, just as it veered towards crops and harvests as Elizabeth had hoped it might, the music changed.
“There will be a few dances before the meal is served,” Mr. Barlow explained to Elizabeth. “If you will excuse us,” he said to the Robertsons. “I have the privilege of this young lady’s first dance.” As she allowed herself to be escorted away, Elizabeth hoped she wasn’t imagining the look of disappointment on John Robertson’s face.
