Chapter 6
The first thing Elizabeth did was to visit her aunt. Mrs. Gardiner was in bed, with a tray next to her, proving she had already eaten, and — surprisingly — a glass of port.
“You look lovely, Lizzy. Your uncle and Mr. Darcy are waiting for you in the dining room. I shall sleep now. I am quite tired, and I confess I have already drunk a glass of port — this will be my second one. It is delicious but quite strong.”
“Aunt!” Elizabeth laughed.
“No Aunt, Lizzy. Over the last ten years, I have occasionally indulged in a small glass of port to enable me to sleep. I shall take this opportunity. Enjoy your dinner, my dear. I shall see you again in the morning.”
Dismissed by her aunt, Elizabeth walked towards the dining room. She did not know where it was situated in that large house but hoped to find a servant to direct her.
As she walked down the hall, her attention was drawn towards the walls, furniture, and carpets. For a brief moment, it crossed her mind that of all this she could have been the mistress. Such a notion seemed extraordinary, and her imagination was not enough to consider the possibility.
The walls were filled with paintings, and she stopped in front of one, captivated. It was a large portrait of Mr. Darcy, wearing the same little smile which he had often directed at her.
“Miss Bennet?”
She startled, and her heart beat wildly when she saw the object of her musings waiting only a few steps away.
“I was hoping you would join us for dinner,” he said.
“Yes…thank you…” She did not know what else to say.
“Mr. Gardiner is in the library,” he continued. “Would you like to go there? Or to the dining room?”
“I…I would like to see the library,” she agreed. He seemed pleased with her answer and opened the door. She entered hesitantly and could not refrain from gasping.
The conversation at Netherfield about Mr. Darcy’s library being the work of many generations unfolded in front of her eyes, now given new meanings.
“This is beautiful…outstanding…” she whispered.
“Is it not, Lizzy?” Mr. Gardiner interjected. “I just told Mr. Darcy that if your father were here, he would not leave this room for weeks. He would eat here and sleep here.”
“I assume Miss Bennet inherited her love of books from her father,” Mr. Darcy said.
“I believe so. And her fondness for chess and fishing,” Mr. Gardiner continued, making Elizabeth’s cheeks fill with heat.
“I understand Mr. Darcy inherited an artistic side from his mother,” Elizabeth suddenly said, only to regret it a moment later. Her cheeks burned, and she averted her eyes, scolding herself for her imprudence. To her surprise, he replied rather lightly.
“I hope I did, though the real artist in the family is my sister, Georgiana. But I enjoy playing the pianoforte and drawing, especially when I am distressed. It is a way to regain peace and composure.”
“To me, the best way to regain some peace is fishing,” Mr. Gardiner said. “I look forward to tomorrow with pleasure.”
“Come, let us go to dinner and resume our conversation there,” Mr. Darcy suggested.
The dining room was equally spectacular, even impressive. There was a huge table in the middle, with only a few places arranged at one end. Mr. Darcy sat at the head of the table, with Elizabeth and Mr. Gardiner to either side of him.
“Lizzy, will you join us in fishing tomorrow?” Mr. Gardiner suddenly asked.
“Oh, no,” she replied, perturbed by the very notion. “I am certain you will enjoy your time much better with just gentlemen.”
“As you wish. Mr. Darcy has been so kind as to allow your aunt’s cousins to come and visit tomorrow. I shall return the visit the following day,” Mr. Gardiner continued. “We shall be forever in debt to Mr. Darcy for his generosity in allowing us to stay in his house.”
“Mr. Gardiner, any debt will be repaid if you cease talking about it,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I feel uncomfortable being praised for something anyone would do.”
“I am sorry to hear that, sir, and I shall try to comply with your wish. But no, not everybody would do such a thing for strangers. We were not friends, and we certainly do not belong to the same circles. Even your acquaintance with Elizabeth was trifling. From what I heard, you barely knew each other. You certainly could not be described as friends.”
Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth, and she needed a moment to compose herself enough to speak.
