An Encounter At Pemberley

Chapter

1

W e were thinking that tomorrow we would visit Pemberley, Elizabeth. It has been many years since I have seen the house, and your uncle has also expressed a desire to visit it. It is not directly in our way, but no more than a mile or two out of it. What do you think ?

Elizabeth Bennet tensed at this unwelcome news, and took a moment to recover her composure before answering. "Do you particularly wish to visit

Pemberley

,

Aunt

?"

"I would have thought you would, having heard so much about it from your acquaintances. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know. It is a fine house, with enough woodland to satisfy even for your enthusiasm for them, Lizzy. And I have it on authority that the master is away, so I imagine there will be no danger of meeting with him, considering how much you dislike him. Does it sound agreeable

to

you

?"

Elizabeth felt her heart calm down at the news that she would not be forced to encounter Mr Darcy. Ever since their disastrous encounter at Hunsford Lodge, when she had rejected his offer of marriage and told him exactly what she thought of him, she had dreaded the possibility of meeting with him. She hadn’t seen him since he gave her his letter; a letter which made her feel that even if she was still correct in considering him rude, selfish and with little regard for the feelings of others, he wasn’t quite the cold-hearted villain she had always thought. She had read the letter so often that she felt she knew it by heart. But she had to confess, in spite of her reluctance, she had a curiosity to see the house of which she had so nearly become mistress. And it might reveal another side of Mr Darcy’s peculiar character to see the place he called home. It was settled, then. She gave Mrs Gardiner a cheerful smile.

It sounds most agreeable, Aunt. She shot her a mischievous look. And maybe I shall be so enamoured by the extensive woodland that it might make its inhabitant a little more agreeable.

Her aunt and uncle laughed. Very well, then, said Mr Gardiner. It is settled. We shall visit tomorrow morning. Now, about the best route to Chatsworth…

Later that afternoon, Aunt and Uncle Gardiner expressed a desire to walk into the village. Aunt Gardiner had grown up there and she was desirous to refresh her memory of all the places she had dearly loved during her girlhood. Seeing the warmth and affection between her aunt and uncle as they prepared to leave made Elizabeth smile, and when they invited her to join them, she declined, eager to allow them to have some time to themselves. If you’ll forgive me, I think I’d like to remain here and read for a while. Please take your time to enjoy your walk, and I shall see you at supper later .

She watched them leave, arm in arm, heads bent close together as they whispered and joked, so completely at ease in one another’s company. If she could find a match like that, Elizabeth thought, she would be willing to marry tomorrow. She selected a book from the inn’s library and settled down near the window to read. A gentle breeze blew in, fluttering the curtains. Elizabeth tucked her feet under her, the tome spread on her lap as she looked out to admire the view. Those woods surrounding the village must belong to Mr Darcy. The breeze brought with it the fresh, wholesome smell of woods, loam and tree sap. How nice it would be to ramble and explore. She had always loved to do so. The book was forgotten as she traced the view as far as she could see. Purple mountains rose up over the leafy green canopies, promising breathtaking views of the Derbyshire countryside.

It was no good. She needed to stretch her legs and breath in pure, fresh air. She had no doubt she would be home long before her aunt and uncle, so they would not be alarmed. She threw the book on the table and went to the hook near the door to fetch her bonnet.

The woods were even more pleasing than they seemed at a distance. Elizabeth breathed deeply, taking in the rich, fresh air as she leaped over little gurgling streams. If she had accepted Mr Darcy’s proposal, she should have rambled here every day. All this would have

been

hers

.

But what would the rest of her life have been like? Would a comfortable house and extensive grounds, no matter how beautiful, have been enough to comfort her in a marriage to a man who she was sure would not suit her? Who, even if not guilty of harming Wickham, was still unpleasant, rude and arrogant? No, it would not be enough. No possessions could make up for an unhappy marriage. She was no Charlotte Collins who was content with a foolish, boorish husband as long as he provided her with a good home and respectability. She needed to love and respect her partner in life and to know he felt the same in return. So, she thought, smiling to herself, it seemed she must live out her life as an old maid and hope her sister Jane would take her in, if Jane recovered enough from her heartbreak at losing Bingley to find another man. The separation of Jane and Bingley had been another of Darcy’s crimes, and the one of which he really was guilty.

Elizabeth was so lost in thought that she failed to notice the slope in the ground, hidden by undergrowth. Her foot slipped and she flailed about frantically to grasp at an overhanging tree branch.. It did no good. The branch was thin and weak and broke easily in her hand with a dry crack. Shrieking, she slid downwards. Her foot caught a rock, sending her spiralling forwards. Her head bumped painfully against the hard, packed earth of a dried-up river bed and there she lay, as still as death.

Chapter

2

Nearly home , Darcy thought as he urged his horse onwards. His friends would join him there in a day or two but for now, he needed to return to take care of some business with his agent and it would be impossible to do so while he was forced to play host. But the prospect of a day or two without company did not please him as it usually did. Lately, he hated to be alone. It was during those times that the words of Elizabeth Bennet came back to him as clearly as if she still stood before him, scorning his proposal of marriage and telling him in no uncertain terms that he was no gentleman and in fact, was the last man in the world whom she could ever marry. Every time he closed his eyes at night, he saw her before him, her beautiful eyes scornful as she enumerated the multiple ways she despised him. He had never realised he could be seen in such a poor light. It had been a humbling experience .

He took the bridle path, thinking longingly of the dinner Mrs Reynolds would have prepared for him when he arrived. It had been a long ride from Derby and looking around now at the thick green trees, breathing in the fresh woodland air, he realised how much he had missed it. This was something else he had avoided. He’d made the mistake of indulging in dreams of sharing this home with Miss Bennet, imagining the joy of returning to her each day, and one day seeing their children playing in the gardens. Now the place was a stark reminder that it was never to be, and he would never see her again.

As he turned his horse onto the bridle path, it looked as if a clump of bushes had been torn away. Darcy glanced it at in indifference when something caught his eyes. A flash of pale blue at the bottom of the dried up river bed. In alarm, he dismounted and hurried over. The path sloped there and he had always warned Georgiana to be careful of it. It would be so easy for someone unfamiliar with the grounds to fall and seriously injure themselves.

A girl lay silently on the hard packed earth below. She was still. Her light summer dress and petticoats and rearranged themselves during her fall and he could clearly see her leg in her linen stocking was swollen. Her tangled black hair covered her face so he couldn’t say if she was someone he knew from the village. His heart turned over as he carefully slid down the slope towards her, praying fervently that she wasn’t dead. He took the slim wrist in his hand. She didn’t respond to his touch but the flesh was warm and he could clearly feel the life beating underneath. Thank

you

,

God

.

Feeling uncomfortable but having no other choice, he