“Do you like dancing?” she ventured.
“With people I like, certainly. I doubt I shall look for any other partners there.”
Lizzie laughed, “Then I must hope that Mrs. Reynolds packed me some sturdy slippers!”
As the carriage made its comfortable way along the roads of Derbyshire, Elizabeth discovered that Mr. Darcy’s plans went far beyond the acquisition of an invitation to the Otter Lodge Ball. In the blunt, determined manner she was beginning to admire, he had created an entire itinerary for himself and his young wife.
To start with, Chesterfield was a market town and had a staggering array of high-quality vendors. He was determined for Elizabeth to find something she liked in every single one.
(“Even the cheesemongers?” Elizabeth teased.
“Do not be facetious, Mrs. Darcy.” he replied).
There was also a large park with an orangery, where Darcy hoped to find some rare plant seedlings to bring back to be cultivated in Pemberley. There was a Roman ruin to explore, and several beautiful churches to admire. Chief among Darcy’s destinations, though, and the reason he had chosen this town in particular, was an art exhibition.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened when they arrived there. Through a modest door, into high-ceilinged but plain rooms, the building promised very little. Then, caught by the light from the wide windows, she caught sight of the paintings.
Landscapes. Endless sunsets and clouds, trickling rivers and roaring waterfalls. Soft green spring trees, dark and rugged winter pines… every breath of the seasons had been caught and captured in eternal oils.
“This is where I found the painting which you like so much.” Darcy murmured, standing close.
“You chose it? I thought it was part of the house.” she mumbled, unwilling to even blink. Her husband laughed.
“It ismyhouse, Elizabeth. I was happy to find out that you liked the painting so much, as I had always been fond of it. Pemberley is your house, too. I think it needs some more paintings, do you not agree? Choose whichever you like, my love.”
Darcy was gratified when Elizabeth went pink with delight. It was as if the world had faded around her; she danced from painting to painting in a sleepwalker’s dream. For a long time, he admired her as if she were one of the masterpieces herself. Then, recalling the second part of this gift, he slipped out of the room.
Elizabeth blinked dazedly when Darcy approached her. He had another man beside him, who looked at her with a warm smile. Blushing (oh, how shameful to be observed in such a manner!)Lizzie curtseyed and shot her husband a mildly reproachful look. He ignored it.
“Mrs. Darcy, may I introduce you to Mr. Frock. He is the artist whose work you are admiring.”
“Mr. Frock?” she echoed, her eyes widening. Her words came out in a stutter, so amazed was she: “Your paintings are… they arewonderful,sir!”
“The subjects speak for themselves.” he replied modestly, absentmindedly gesturing to the sweet apple orchard in the nearest painting. “I merely copy them onto canvas.”
“To that matter, Mr. Frock, I have something I wish to discuss.” Darcy said, “Our home, Pemberley, has not been painted in nearly a generation. I would like to change that.”
Frock looked amazed, but pleased. He smoothed his moustache with his thin fingers, clearly to hide his excitement, and his voice was artificially steady: “I have heard that it is a fair prospect. I would be glad to try.”
“Excellent, then we shall discuss your commission while my wife chooses which paintings she wishes to purchase.” Darcy beamed and beckoned for the man to follow him. When they were out of earshot of Elizabeth, he made a very generous offer indeed and then asked if Frock painted portraits as well as he did landscapes. Finding that he did, Darcy lowered his voice even further and made another commission.
While this nefarious kindness was being carried out, Elizabeth selected four paintings. It was a hugely difficult decision. She could have bought every single one - and she suspected that Darcy might have let her. Pemberley would have been transformed into an art gallery. The family portraits would haveto fight for space! Poor Lady Anne would not be in the library; she would end up in the stairwell!
Thinking of the peaceful painting above her fireplace, which was lit by a pink sunrise, Elizabeth decided to choose a painting in full daylight, one in the evening, and one swaddled in blue-black night.
The fourth painting she choose was completely different from the others. It had been tucked away in a corner, almost as if it felt ashamed of being among the others. Unlike the large canvasses around it, it was a small rectangle, barely bigger than a sheet of letter-writing paper, in a plain wooden frame. It was a portrait of a young woman sitting beside a lake. The shore she sat upon was green and verdant, but in the background the grass was yellow from the hot summer sun. The sky blazed above her, cloudless and fierce, but when it was reflected in the lake it looked soft and serene.
“This is not like the others.” she remarked to Frock when he returned. He looked surprised at her choice and tapped the wooden frame with one finger.
“I painted this as a student. An early work. Now, I fear, it is rather unfashionable - and certainly too small to grace the grand parlours my other work requires. Still, I have a certain fondness for it, which is why I took the time to mount it here.”
“Would you prefer to keep it?”
“No, madam. I thank you for the thought, but I have no especial attachment to it. Both the lake and the lady are mere figments of my imagination.”
Elizabeth murmured to Darcy, “She looks so otherworldly. I think Georgiana will adore it. There is such tranquillity in the water… so manycolours…”
“We are here to choose gifts foryou!”he teased, but looked pleased, “Yes, I believe that Georgiana will like it.”
