“Come inside, miss. We can fetch you a bath and some clean clothes. I fear if we let you catch your death, Mrs Reynolds will have our hides… eventually.”
“Mrs Reynolds?”
“The housekeeper, ma’am.”
Fortunately, they had walked as they spoke, and Elizabeth stepped into the most beautiful entryway she had ever beheld. Not only was itnot wet, andnot on fire, andnot filled with smoke or pigs—but it was beautiful in an elegant, yet understated way that she found very much to her liking. It resembled Matlock yet surpassed it. If forced to describe it in a word, she would choose ‘subtle.’ The furnishings were evidently well crafted and expensive, but much like Matlock, each piece sat in exactly the right place to serve a purpose. Nothing was ostentatious or overly ornamented. She found it to her taste—much to her chagrin.
Margaret gazed about in wonder. “Lizzy, this entry is amazing.”
“Yes, Margie. It is. It is… well, to be honest, it is as I expected.”
Margaret just smiled in a particularly good approximation of Jane in a lively mood.
As the ladies gazed about, a young woman of Lydia or Kitty’s age hastened down the stairs, followed by an older lady of about Mrs Bennet’s age, showing much more decorum. Elizabeth presumed this must be the lady of the house.
Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother; but there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.
The young lady ran up to her and burst out, “Oh, my goodness! Welcome to Pemberley, ladies. This is terrible. You are wet as drowned rats. Pray, allow me to arrange baths, and some clean clothing, then you can tell me what brings you.”
She ceased speaking, gave an embarrassed laugh, and added, “Oh… I am a complete ninnyhammer. I have not even done introductions, but I hope you will attribute it to concern for your welfare, and not bad manners. You see, I am usually quite shy, and nobody can get a word out of me, but when I get excited, I rattle on like a madwoman.”
Elizabeth could not help it; she laughed at the entire episode. Margaret somewhat timidly joined her, until Miss Darcy started tittering, and all had a good laugh. At that point, she spared a thought that this could not possibly be the girl Mr Wickham described; ergo, everything that man said must be discounted. She did not wish to think that at least half of her animosity for the master of this house was probably based on that scoundrel’s words. No, she did not think that three or four times over while the three ladies did their best to act like Lydia and Kitty.
Another footman approached with two blankets and some towels. Elizabeth and Margaret eyed the quality of the materials, and the amount of grime on their sleeves, suspiciously.
Miss Darcy said, “Stop that fidgeting, and wrap yourselves in those blankets. You have obviously been in a fire, and I will not have you dripping all over my clean floor.”
Elizabeth laughed, and Miss Darcy joined her, before lowering her eyes and murmuring, “Please. I know I seem a bit agitated, but I assure you, I am usually more reserved. It is only that we are in a spot of difficulty.”
“Not at all, Miss Darcy. You are doing splendidly.”
Miss Darcy gave her a broad smile. “I am afraid you find me in charge of the manor without a clear idea of what to do. Perhaps introductions are in order. I am, as you surmised,Miss Georgiana Darcy. This is my companion, Mrs Annesley. My brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy, owns the estate. How may I be of service?”
Elizabeth wondered at the lack of a housekeeper or butler, yet not excessively. It was no business of hers how Pemberley was run. She gratefully took the towel from the footman, brushed quickly over her hair and the outside her clothing, and wrapped herself in the blanket, while Margaret did the same. She thanked the footman and asked his name.
The man, about five-and-twenty and seemingly quite friendly, gave it, and subtly suggested to Miss Darcy that a fire might be in order. That lady took the suggestion quite to heart and bustled the pair off to a parlour on the ground floor, where a footman was already stoking the grate.
Elizabeth and Margaret stood near the fire to warm their hands, then turned. Elizabeth started her disclosure.
“Miss Darcy, I fear my manners are lacking, but you seem quite understanding. Allow me to introduce myself and my companion. This is Miss Margaret Wythe of London. Margaret’s father manages the wool sales for Lord and Lady Matlock among others, but not your brother.”
“Miss Wythe, it is a pleasure. I do hope to be introduced to your parents.”
“Likewise, Miss Darcy.”
“I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire.”
Quite to her surprise, Miss Darcy gasped, and practically shouted, “YOU are Elizabeth Bennet!”
Alarmed to consider what part of her reputation had preceded her, Elizabeth said, “I believe so. I know your brother somewhat. He stayed at Netherfield with his friend Mr Bingley last autumn, just three miles from my father’s estate; and I encountered him again six weeks ago at Rosings, where I was visiting a friend recently married to the rector of Hunsford.”
She lowered her voice, and whispered only for Miss Darcy’s ears, “What have you heard? Am I welcome here? I would not cause you distress for anything in the world.”
Georgiana stared in confusion. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. That must have sounded unhinged. I know only that my brother wrote about you quite some number of times last autumn, and again when he encountered you in Kent, and I just received a note recommending you yesterday. I know he holds you in thehighest regard, but little more. I only reacted that way because he rarely says anything at all about young ladies so he must be particularly impressed with you.”
Elizabeth sighed with relief. Why had she thought it possible Mr Darcy might have confided in his sister? He had surely not consulted a single soul! The Wythes were likely the only people in the world who knew of his proposal.
Elizabeth drew a breath. “As you surmised, there was a fire, and we are aiding the villagers. At least a third, possibly half of Sudbury has burned to the ground.”
