“Shall Mr. Robertson and I forfeit, as it is your birthday?” Mr. Darcy asked after running down an errant hit.
“I appreciate your gallantry,” Elizabeth responded, executing a perfect hit right to her partner. “We will win without any assistance.” She had turned with her last hit, as had he. They faced one another across a short expanse of lawn, and before spinning to hit the shuttle, Elizabeth gave him a knowing, teasing smile. Edmund’s pass hit Darcy in the face. He did not move at all.
Everyone exclaimed at their victory. Elizabeth turned back around, and by the time she did so, Darcy was under good regulation.
Unlike their indoor picnic games years ago, this time around there was a different winner for every game. By the time Georgiana invited her guests to make their way to the awaitingconveyances to be taken back to the house, Mrs. Gardiner, Mrs. Ashley, John Robertson, Darcy and Elizabeth had all claimed a victory. Amelia Gardiner, too, was the winner of a game of tag designed with rules exactly tailored to bring about that conclusion. Spirits were high as everyone followed Miss Darcy’s instructions, recounting their favourite moments from the competitions that just took place.
Elizabeth walked arm in arm with Jane, laughing and listening to the tales being told all around them, which seemed to be already magnifying and exaggerated events. The length of bowls became longer, a pall-mall hit rounded several trees and the time it took to be tagged out in blindman’s buff seemed to be more than the entirety of the afternoon had lasted.
The Gardiners, along with Mr. Barlow, Abigail, Cora and the children, would take the Gardiner carriage back to Barlow Hall. Though Amelia’s chatter made it appear as though her nearly boundless energy was at its peak, those more familiar with her knew the signs which indicated she would soon fall fast asleep. Her sister provided no such resistance and already dozed in her great-uncle’s arms.
“Enjoy your evening, ladies,” Mrs. Gardiner said to her nieces who stood beside Georgiana to bid the family farewell. “Georgiana, you are an exceptional hostess. Thank you for having us.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner. I am so happy your whole family could be with us.”
“You are the best,” Amelia declared, throwing her arms around Georgiana’s legs as high as she could reach.
“I object to that,” Elizabeth teased as she plucked Amelia into her arms.
“You are the best too, Lizzy,” Amelia said with an indulgent smile, her eyes just beginning to droop.
“You better take her now so the carriage can lull her the rest of the way,” Elizabeth said as her uncle came to claim his daughter.
Once the carriage began its way up the small path to the road, the girls turned to the rest of the party. Darcy was speaking with the Robertsons, minus John, who stood with the Ashleys. Mrs. Ashley quickly claimed the girls’ attention with questions about their plans for the evening. In truth, their plans involved little more than a dinner tray and likely conversation well into the night. They would all sleep in Georgiana’s bed, as had become tradition.
“You will be missed,” Georgiana assured her former governess and companion.
“Yes indeed,” Jane agreed.
“Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Robertson said as he stepped into the space between the two groups, “we appreciate your hospitality.”
“Yes,” his wife agreed. “We are grateful to have been included in this joyful celebration.”
“We are so glad you were able to join us,” Georgiana responded. “Given your closeness not only to the Darcys but also the Gardiners and Miss Elizabeth,” she paused for just amoment and looked at John before continuing, “of course we would not think our birthday celebration complete without you.”
“You are too kind,” Mrs. Robertson said and then turned to her husband. “Shall we make our way home?”
“Please let us take you in the carriage, we have more than enough room,” Georgiana insisted.
“It is not too much trouble?”
“Of course not. If no one objects, Jane, Mr. and Mrs. Ashley and I can go in the phaeton. William has his horse, and Elizabeth can accompany you.”
Elizabeth’s suspicions were immediately aroused. The phaeton was large enough that she could have fit with the others. Was Georgiana playing matchmaker?
“Yes, a perfect arrangement, Miss Darcy. I know it has been said by others throughout our time together, but I must add my voice to the cacophony—you are an accomplished hostess, and I thank you for this wonderful afternoon.”
Georgiana blushed slightly at this praise from Mrs. Robertson. However, she recovered quickly and began ushering everyone to their appointed conveyances. Elizabeth looked back as John handed her up into the carriage. Darcy stood beside his sister, but his gaze seemed to be focused on her, his look one of confusion.
The Robertsons’ home, Wentworth Farm, was named after the family that built the cottage and first farmed the land, an ancestor of Mrs. Robertson. It faced east and sat atop a wide sloping hill commanding a view of Pemberley’s orchard and lakebelow, surrounded by a small garden to the west and its vast fields to the north and south. The cottage itself was grey stone with large windows on either side of the front door.
Mr. and Mrs. Robertson bustled out almost as soon as the carriage came to a halt and Darcy’s man had placed the steps. They offered their goodbyes and final well-wishes for Elizabeth on her birthday and quickly disappeared into the house, even as Edmund moved to follow.
“It was a lovely day, Miss Elizabeth, thank you again for including us,” Edmund said.
“Of course. I am glad you came,” Elizabeth answered as he moved away and towards the house.
Then John moved out of the carriage. Unlike his family, he remained by the door.
