Mr. Bennet eyed her as they walked. “Now, Lizzy, will you not tell me what is truly bothering you?”
“Nothing of consequence,” tried Elizabeth, though she knew her attempt at misdirection was a miserable failure. “I do not wish William to go, but I know he must. Waiting will be hard, but I shall endure it.”
For several moments after her statement, they walked on in silence, Elizabeth content to look about at the beauties of the season, while her father considered his response. Winter had always been the bane of Elizabeth’s existence, for it prevented her from enjoying the nature that she loved, leaving her confined to a house that was often tumultuous. Yet she was not immune to its beauty on those rare occasions when she could escape the house when the cold gave way to warmer days. That day was a little cold even for her, though there was not a breath of wind to pierce her dress and pelisse, to chill her with its biting fingers. Thus, icy tendrils of frost decorated the branches overlooking the path, sparkling and dancing in the light of the morning sun. By the midafternoon, she knew the sun would melt away those magical wands of beauty, leaving the bare form of the branches waiting for the warmth of spring and the return to life and their summer glory.
For a time, Elizabeth wondered what it would be like at Pemberley. Derbyshire was not so far north of Hertfordshire that there must be a sizeable difference in the weather. From several books she had read, there were several factors other than the proximity to the colder northern climes that contributed to the length of the seasons, rainfall, and other weather features. Perhaps her father would have books that explained something of the differences she would find between the two counties; Elizabeth made a mental note to ask her father about it in the coming days.
“If you will not speak of it outright,” said her father, pulling her attention back to him, “then perhaps I should guess the reason for your introspection? Might I suppose it is brought onbecause of the prospect of the event changing everything you know?”
Elizabeth sighed ruefully. “It appears you know me well, Papa.”
“It was not difficult to guess,” replied her affectionate father. “Change, though it is constant in life, is rarely welcomed by those caught in its throes. This is especially true for a young woman already facing the challenges inherent in entering the marriage state, who must also contend with the altered circumstances of her betrothed.”
“Yes, I suppose you are correct.”
“Then let me set your mind at ease, though I know you already understand the truth of what I mean to tell you. Darcy is an excellent man and not one to be affected by the good fortune of sudden and unexpected prosperity. He has promised to return as soon as possible, and I suspect we will welcome him long before we have any right to expect.
“A man so much in love with you will never forsake you, Lizzy. Trust your young man, for he will return as he promised.”
Elizabeth turned a smile on her father and nodded. “Thank you, Papa, for your trust in William. I will say, however, that my concerns were not about William’s constancy.”
“Oh?” asked her father. “Then please share your worries, my dear. I shall do my best to dispel them.”
“It is not anything in particular, I suppose,” said Elizabeth after a moment’s thought. “I wonder how matters will progress, especially when we must perform before those who will consider us imposters and upstarts.”
Mr. Bennet snorted with utter disdain. “Lizzy, that should be the least of your concerns. Had I any notion that you could not withstand those of society and put them in their place when required, I might reconsider whether I thought it wise to proceed with this engagement and damn the consequences.
“As it is, I do not doubt your abilities. Are you not the Lizzy Bennet who has always claimed that every attempt to intimidate brings out your obduracy and courage?”
Elizabeth smiled at her father. “I suppose I am, though I will note that boasts made in pride and conceit often wilt when subjected to the heat of scrutiny.”
“And do you suppose you will shrivel against such an onslaught?”
“No, I do not suppose it, Papa. I hope, however, you will allow me the luxury of such worries, even if I know I will meet those trials with fortitude.”
“I do not begrudge you in the slightest, Daughter. Do not let them consume you, for if you do, itmayeven affect your indomitable resolve.”
“I shall do my best, Papa.”
“That is all anyone can ask.”
Silence reigned for the rest of their walk back to Longbourn. When they arrived, they went to refresh themselves and joined the rest of their family at breakfast, where Elizabeth endured the teasing of her mother and sisters, who knew exactly where she had been that morning. Elizabeth bore it all with good grace, returning their witticisms where possible, ignoring others, and accepting the teasing when she must.
In the back of her mind, however, she could not but own that her father’s advice had improved her outlook and bolstered her confidence. Not that her confidence would not have recovered on its own. She appreciated her father’s support, and in the light of his assertions, she quickly learned to put such worries to the side and concentrate on maintaining a cheerful disposition until William returned. Their wedding was delayed, not canceled. No one would say that Elizabeth Bennet could not withstand trials in her life. And she also had the proposed journey to view Pemberley to anticipate.
Chapter VI
Pemberley’s massive portico loomed before Darcy as the carriage rolled to a stop, allowing him to escape its confines, much to his relief. Whatever benefits he would now possess from his new position as the estate’s master, he now knew with no doubt that he would not enjoy the three-day journey to London and his previous home.
Before him on the steps stood the two people he had noted as he approached, a man and a young woman. The man was familiar to Darcy, as he had met Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam several times over the years and found him to be an excellent sort. The young woman he knew to be Miss Georgiana Darcy, the previous master’s much younger sister. While the colonel appeared stoic, Miss Darcy’s pale complexion bore the signs of grief, if not recent weeping.
The moment Darcy alighted, the colonel stepped forward, hand extended.
“Darcy—” said he before he faltered and fell silent.
A moment later, he offered Darcy a wan smile. “I apologize, for it is odd to use that moniker when I have addressed my cousin with it for so many years.”
“That is understandable,” replied Darcy. “If it would be easier for you, I have no objection to you using my first name, though I will note it is the same as your surname.”
