Page 104 of Bitterness of Spirit

Elizabeth smiled at her. ”This is fine for now, thank you. Everything is perfect. I shall rest a little for now.”

“Do you need help to wash or dress?”

“No indeed.” Elizabeth laughed. “I shall be fine; do not worry.”

“Very well, ma’am. If you need anything, just ring from here.” The maid bobbed a curtsey and left.

The staff’s efficiency and diligence showed once more the importance placed upon their guests by the master and mistress of the house. Elizabeth realised she should be content and grateful, but her distress was stronger than anything else. He did everything for their comfort then departed. His presence would have said more than all the fresh flowers and handsome furnishings.

She paced the room, touching the roses. Who had brought them? Were roses in all the chambers? She planned to ask her aunt and Jane if she were brave enough to do so.

She felt the room was prepared to suit and please her; everything looked just as Elizabeth herself would have arranged it. It gave her a sense of comfort and peace that, for a moment, relieved her torment. The view from the window gave her a perfect view of the lake and the gardens, and she was lost in the beauty for a moment. The first thought that crossed her mind was that he might have chosen the room especially for her. But she dismissed it, angry with her own foolishness. He left before she arrived, so he could not have more interest in her preferences than in those of any other guest. All the rooms at Pemberley were probably as charming, and she was silly to assume too much.

She glanced at the large and seemingly comfortable bed. Although not tired at all, she felt completely exhausted—mentally and emotionally. All the hopes she dared not admit to herself had vanished.

Elizabeth mustered her courage and decided to bathe and change her gown. Though she did not want to be alone, she also could not bear the others’ joyful dispositions.

She recollected Miss de Bourgh; her state had greatly improved, and without a doubt she was happier and healthier at Pemberley than she was at Rosings. She looked very much at home. Was she?

Had Darcy finally decided to do what everybody expected and marry his cousin? Anne and Georgiana behaved like sisters with each other, under the colonel’s careful supervision. They all appeared to be a happy family. What was she doing there, disturbing their peace? He might still have feelings for her; he might still find it hard to face her, but since he decided to leave, he had determined to break any connection to her.

She looked outside; Jane and Bingley were walking arm in arm—along with Anne, Georgiana, and the colonel, followed by her uncle and aunt. The children were certainly asleep.

She wished to join them but could not find the strength. Everything reminded her of Darcy, and it was too much to bear.

She was there only because he had invited her when they were in London and then renewed the invitation through several letters. They were not addressed to her, of course, but in each of them, he did mention her one way or another. After their terrible second fight on the Bingleys’ wedding day, such insistence showed her that maybe he had felt remorse and wanted to express his regrets in a way the others could not perceive. It was obvious that he wanted her at Pemberley, but then why did he leave? What was he trying to prove by bringing her there, offering to host her in his home, and then running away?

“Miss Bennet, come join us!” the colonel called to her when he saw her at the window.

The others waved to her, and she laughed through tears, waving in return. After more insistence, she had no choice but to yield, so she hurried downstairs, looking around as she tried to remember the way out.

In the main hall, she stopped to catch her breath and startled when Mrs. Reynolds called her name.

“May I help you with anything, Miss Bennet?”

“No, thank you, you are very kind. I am only trying to find the door. I am expected for a walk.” She smiled.

“Then please come with me,” the lady offered. “How do you enjoy Pemberley so far?”

“Very much. I am completely enchanted and overwhelmed. But who would not be?” she answered honestly.

“Indeed, who would not be? I feel fortunate to be part of this family. What more can one hope for but to spend an entire life surrounded by such beauty and having the best master ever?”

Elizabeth smiled in approval as Mrs. Reynolds continued. “So, what an astonishing coincidence. You are Mrs. Gardiner’s niece, who is the sister of the long-lost Gilbert Wilson, who was the late master’s best friend. Forgive my boldness, but all of Lambton is talking about it. We would never imagine that one day we might see him again. He took several rooms at the inn, I heard. We hope to see him at Pemberley too. Fate has a way of playing with us, I tell you.”

“True, Mrs. Reynolds. So many coincidences are rather incredible. One has to live them in order to believe them.”

“I understand you also know the master; is it not a pity that he is not home?”

“A great pity,” she genuinely admitted.

“He is such a remarkable young man—and very handsome too. Is he not handsome, ma’am?”

“Yes, he is.” Elizabeth blushed. “And I understand he has excellent skills in managing his estate. I have heard he is very good at business too,” she continued to change the subject from his appearance.

“He is excellent at everything he does, ma’am. And he is such a goodhearted, generous man; few can measure up to him. He inherited all the best traits of his parents.”

“I am sure he did,” Elizabeth declared in earnest. Her heart was pounding again as she recollected his image in so many moments they had spent together.