Elizabeth raised a brow. “You do?”
“Yes,” she said. She held out her hand, and Elizabeth handed over the few pages she had been able to write. Mary frowned. “You forgot the description of the castle — the part that is enchanted and comes to life at night in view of the full moon.”
Elizabeth nodded and sat down to jot a note on a fresh piece of paper. “You are right. How could I have forgotten that?”
Mary brought a chair over from the spacious sitting area near the hearth, and they talked for another hour, Elizabeth writing notes while Mary helped her remember each section of the book that she had previously completed. However, after the clock on the mantel struck three, Mary began to yawn so prolifically that Elizabeth ordered her to climb into bed.
“Are you not coming?” Mary asked mid-yawn as she padded over to the bed. She climbed between the sheets.
“No, not yet. I just want to write one of the scenes that you helped me remember. You sleep and I’ll be along shortly.” There would be many nights of midnight scribbling while they were atPemberley, as she could not lock herself away without raising suspicion. No one had occasion to write that many letters.
“Lizzy, do not tell Mama, but I am almost glad that the fire happened,” Mary said sleepily.
“How do you mean?” Elizabeth asked.
“Well, I am not glad that the fire took our home and everything in it. I suppose I mean I am glad that no one was killed or hurt and that we are all still together.” She sighed contentedly and turned over on her side. “And I am glad that, since something terrible happened, we had this wonderful place to find refuge while Papa oversees the new house.”
She could certainly agree with her cousin to that end. “Yes, I know what you mean. It is a great blessing to have all the family alive and well.” She smiled. “Now go to sleep, Cousin.” Mary did as she was told, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Held in the iron grasp of Inspiration, Elizabeth worked until the sun started to peek its head over the nearby hills. It was not until the first bird began to sing its song to the sunrise that she put her quill aside. Suddenly, Elizabeth’s eyelids seemed impossibly heavy. She only just managed to crawl into bed beside her cousin before sleep took her.
Chapter 14
The sun rose in a splendour of pink light that morning. Darcy was awake to see it, for sleep had eluded him all night. He had dozed, but only a little and shallowly, often interrupted. When the clock struck seven, he could not stay abed any longer.
If he could not sleep, he might as well at least enjoy the beauty of the morning. Darcy rose and dressed without the help of his valet, opting for a simple pair of breeches and a loose-fitting shirt. He shrugged into his coat, but did not trouble himself to button it before making his way outside.
He took a deep breath of the chill morning air. A thin, wispy mist still covered the ground, the dew sticking out on the blades of grass and the leaves, causing the sun to glisten off the tiny droplets like tiny sparkles of gold.
Relishing the freedom and solitude of early morning, he bounded down the terrace steps. Darcy put his hands in his coat pockets and started down the winding garden paths. He hoped that Miss Bennet and her family were settling in. The children had taken to the ample space and gardens of Pemberley almost instantly. But after an early supper, it had not taken long to coax them into bed. Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet had also retired early, as was only natural after the long journey. It was odd tohave so many guests at the normally quiet Pemberley. Yet it felt strangely right.
It was good to be home. He took a deep breath and looked up at the towering cliffs not far from the rear of the gardens. Every time he returned home after an extended time away, he wondered why he had not come home sooner to this place that held his heart.
To Darcy’s surprise, it abruptly became apparent he was not the only person who had left their warm bed for the splendour of early morning. Though partially obscured by the mists, he could see the outline of another person walking toward the house. Curious, he started toward the figure, his heart quickening as he recognised Miss Bennet.
It ought to have been a surprise, but it was not. Down to his bones, he had known it would be her.
“Good morning,” Darcy said as he approached. He could not deny the way his heart leapt in his chest at seeing her. Seeing her among the trees and flowers of his home gave him a kind of happiness he had never experienced before.
Having Elizabeth here feels so right…
He did his best to dismiss the errant thought. And in any case, what was he doing, thinking of her by her given name? Though, Darcy suspected with a twinge of guilt, it might prove impossible to stop.
“Oh, Mr Darcy,” she replied with a warm smile. “I did not think anyone else would be up at this early hour. Forgive me if I have interrupted your morning walk.”
“Not at all. I thought the same, but it does not follow that the company must be unwelcome. Did you not sleep well, Miss Bennet?”
She shook her head. “On the contrary, I have never slept in a more comfortable room. I must thank you once again,” she said. Despite her claim that she had slept well, he did not miss the slight dark circles under her eyes. Of course, Elizabeth had suffered much in the past days. It would not be surprising if her sleep was troubled. Or perhaps there was a simpler explanation. Perhaps, like himself, she had simply felt turned about by so much change.
“Would you like to join me?” Darcy asked.
Her smile broadened. “I should like that very much, thank you.”
He cleared his throat, then, without thinking, offered her his arm. “It can get quite slick with the dew,” he said. In truth, he suspected Elizabeth could traverse the grass without difficulty. But the temptation of walking arm in arm was more than he could resist.
“How do you find Pemberley thus far, Miss Bennet?”
“Nothing short of enchanting,” she said. To Darcy’s satisfaction, she did not present it as a compliment, but as a simple assessment.
