Mrs Gardiner paused to gather the courage to continue.
“Yes,” Elizabeth murmured to show her aunt that she was ready to hear any news.
“She informed me that Mr and Miss Darcy had left for Pemberley. Then she wrote again to say that their servants at Matlock House were expecting us and that she wascertainthat our journey to Derbyshire would be pleasant.”
“I see!” Elizabeth exclaimed, though not entirely sure she had understood the message. “A clear message given the circumstances. Yet, I do not see any hidden meaning in her words.”
“Then from now on look out of the window, admire the scenery we shall encounter, and forget everything else.”
Elizabeth nodded, summoning the strength to hide her tears. She did not want her uncle to see her inner turmoil. Mr Gardiner, a man of deep principles, would not have made that journey to Derbyshire had he known the full complexity of the situation or the episode with Lady Olivia that was now fortunately closed but still a stain on Mr Darcy’s reputation.
“Sometimes, I find myself wishing I were more like my uncle. Then I would stay at Longbourn, healing from this unrequited love while finding solace in Jane’s happiness.”
“But you are not!”
“No, I would have likely regretted it for the rest of my life if I had not made this journey. That is what Papa told me. Is it not better to experience some pain than to live a lifetime of regret?”
“Were I in your circumstances, I may not have your courage. I see life from a different perspective. Nevertheless, I am glad to help you in any way I can.”
“Just one more night, and we shall be only a few miles away from Pemberley. May I ask you something?”
“Anything, my dear,” her aunt replied.
“I remember from your description of Pemberley that the road ascends for a while, leading to the top of a hill. Yet, the house itself is still distant, on the opposite side of a valley.”
“Yes, indeed. At that point, the road splits, allowing travellers to proceed either to Pemberley or continue on to Lambton and eventually Matlock. However, that is a less-travelled route that takes adétourthrough a dense forest, leading to a hilltop. It adds a few extra miles, and in my time, it was not well maintained. The journey winds through the woods until it reaches the summit, but it offers a truly enchanting view.”
Elizabeth’s voice was almost a whisper as she made her request, her eagerness to see his home undeniable. “Could I please ask you to consider taking that route and allowing me a mere glimpse of Pemberley from that hill? It may be the only time I have the chance to see his house.”
“Let me speak to your uncle, my dear, but I believe he will agree. It is simply a matter of a few additional miles. However, asI recall, the road can be somewhat difficult. But when you arrive on the top of the hill…indeed, it is an enchanting view.”
Elizabeth did not know what her aunt said to Mr Gardiner, yet he accepted the proposition without any undue fuss. It was quite probable that her aunt had painted a vivid picture of the picturesque hills, adorned with lush woodlands and charming little brooks.
They left the inn early, determined to have a light breakfast at the first stop, keen to make the most of their time and reach Lambton by noon. Her aunt was eager to see Pemberley and then Lambton before journeying to the Matlocks’ property a mere five miles away.
Mr Gardiner was always ready to indulge his wife’s wishes, genuinely delighted to see her happy in the countryside where she had spent her youth before their marriage.
On numerous occasions, Elizabeth had discreetly observed them together. They shared a particular harmony that she seldom witnessed in other couples. In contrast, her parents seemed to have a peculiar relationship, dominated by her mother’s nerves and her father’s biting sarcasm, creating an atmosphere of uncertainty where tears, smiles, outbursts, laughter, or anger could spring forth without warning. Mr Bennet held true appreciation for his wife, but did he have the same depth of affection that Elizabeth had discovered in recent months? Had he ever loved her with such ardour? That was impossible to say, and if they had once loved each other at the outset of their union, their current state did not bode well for a young lady still unwed who dreamt of a happiness that would last a lifetime. Thankfully, her aunt and uncle had restored her faith in marriage; more than a decade since their wedding, their closeness and joyfulness still burned bright.
The final ten miles of their journey were enlivened by Mrs Gardiner’s joyous exclamations as she recognised familiar vistas and villages along the way.
“We have entered Pemberley woods,” she finally declared as if presenting the most important place in the world. Her delight at revisiting the area after over a decade was evident, and silence enveloped the carriage once more.
“A fine gentleman, Mr Darcy,” Mr Gardiner remarked. “If his invitation still stands, perhaps we shall pay a visit to his estate during one of the days we shall spend in Derbyshire. He seemed keenly interested in my business.”
But when they stepped down from the carriage at the crossroads leading to Pemberley and Lambton, on the crest of a gentle hill, even Mr Gardiner fell silent, moved by the sight. Neither he nor Elizabeth had imagined the grandeur of the estate—the stately house, the vast gardens, all bathed in brilliant sunlight, appearing almost like paradise itself.
“I told you it was wonderful,” murmured Mrs Gardiner, the only one familiar with the place.
“But I never imagined such beauty…and such elegance!” exclaimed Elizabeth. For a moment, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to picture what it might have been like to arrive as the mistress of Pemberley. And in that instant, she understood that to hold that position, to belong to it, was indeed a privilege—one she had refused back in Kent.
Chapter 42
Usually, a journey to Derbyshire would have been a source of great joy for Mrs Gardiner. The Matlocks’ estate lay only five miles from Lambton, where she had grown up and still regarded with deep affection. She loved London and the life she had built with her husband, but Lambton remained the home of her happy childhood and youth, shared with cheerful and understanding parents, among caring neighbours and joyful friends.
“I shall write Mr Darcy a short note in the coming days to inform him of our arrival.”
“He may already know,” said Mrs Gardiner, glancing at Elizabeth. But her niece only shrugged; she had asked Lady Oakham and the colonel not to mention their journey explicitly, though it was entirely possible Mr Darcy had learnt of it since Matlock House belonged to his closest relations.
