Posted on 2013-01-17

"Does the young lady know Mr. Darcy?"

"A little," sallied Elizabeth Bennet as she turned from the miniature likeness of her former nemesis, but then paused in reflection. Just how much should she admit to Pemberley's kindly, gray-haired housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds? If she claimed an intimate acquaintance with Mr. Darcy, enough to have garnered an unexpected, and at that time wholly unwelcome, proposal of marriage, perhaps she and her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner could look forward to a more thorough tour of the estate her aunt had so admired since girlhood. She would do anything to make her favorite aunt happy. On the other hand, well, there was no other hand. Telling the truth is always best, Lizzy scolded herself, mentally crossing her fingers. "To tell the truth, I know Mr. Darcy quite well. I met him when he visited his friend Mr. Bingley in Hertfordshire. Mr. Bingley's estate, Netherfield, is but three miles from my home, Longbourn, and Mr. Darcy and I were often in company. I also saw Mr. Darcy in Kent over Easter whilst he was visiting his aunt and I was visiting my cousin and friend, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, in Hunsford."

"So you have had the pleasure of meeting Lady Catherine, have you?" Mrs. Reynolds smiled knowingly.

Elizabeth laughed, her remarkable, soft green eyes sparkling. "Of that pleasure I can only say, a little goes a long way."

"Lizzy!" Mrs. Gardiner admonished as her uncle chuckled.

"Oh, ma'am, sir, the young lady and I see eye to eye on Lady Catherine," Mrs. Reynolds assured. "Well, shall we continue? I think we will have time to visit a room or two not usually on the public tour," she offered to the young lady. "If you will follow me up the staircase, we will eventually come to a larger picture of the master in the picture-gallery, the last stop on our tour before I consign you to our gardener for a tour of the park."

Kate Reynolds had by now developed an overarching interest in the pretty, young woman she was leading through Pemberley's rooms and corridors, as they slowly made their way toward their final destination. As she answered question after question from the gentleman and lady, she studied the quiet Miss Bennet. She was eager indeed to watch the young woman's reaction to her master's life-size portrait, for she was certain that reaction could tell her much. "My boy," as she affectionately referred to Mr. Darcy, had not been the same man since his return from Hertfordshire, and she speculated to herself that this Miss Bennet might know a thing or two about that, if indeed she were not the cause of her master's melancholy. She had known her master, been almost a second mother to him, since he was a lad of four summers, and never had she seen him in such low spirits for an extended time, especially since returning from his yearly Easter visit to his Aunt Catherine, and she suspected a woman might be behind it all. She resolved to do her best to get to the bottom of her boy's problems if she could, but first, a stop at one final room to see the young woman's reaction, which might offer a clue to Miss Bennet's relationship to the master. It would require a distasteful action, however - act the tittle-tattle. All in a good cause, she rationalized.

Mrs. Reynolds paused at a double doorway, the head and frame ornately carved as a wreath of oaken flowers. "Like Miss Georgiana's favorite sitting room, this suite of rooms was recently redone by order of my master. It caused much excitement and speculation amongst the staff last November, I can tell you, but… nothing seems to have come of it," she ended with some disappointment.

"Why is that?" Asked Mr. Gardiner.

"Well, sir, these are the Mistress's chambers, and I am sure you can draw the same conclusion we did, but we seem to have been mistaken." She slyly glanced at Miss Bennet to see her close her eyes and hang her head, almost as if she were shamed, before Kate continued, "They are, of course, not usually a part of any tour, but as no one has occupied these rooms these past fourteen years, I cannot see the harm in it. Leastwise not since they turned out so well." Very interesting. Now, if she makes something of the painting over the mantle…

"Lizzy, look at these carvings. What do they remind you of?"

Elizabeth ran her hand over the delicate flower shapes on the doorway. "Lavender, Aunt."

"Yes, Miss, you have a sharp eye. Lavender was Lady Anne's favorite flower. My late master had the doorway carved as a tenth wedding anniversary present for the mistress. Shall we go in?" Mrs. Reynolds unlocked the door and they all crossed the threshold.

"Oh, my!" Elizabeth spun around in awe, her arms extended. Never had she seen the like - it was as if she had stepped into a summer field of wild flowers. "It is beautiful!" But as if captured by a magnet, Elizabeth was drawn to a large painting above the mantle. Mesmerized, she stared at the vision before her while, behind her, Mrs. Reynolds explained the decorating choices she had made to satisfy her master's demands.

Finally, Mrs. Gardiner noticed her niece's rapt attention to the painting and joined her. She tilted her head side to side as she ogled the landscape. "You know, that looks a bit like…"

Elizabeth nodded, her voice suffused with quiet emotion, "Yes, Aunt Maddie, 'tis the view from Oakham Mount - an October dawn, I should guess by the lighting and the look of the leaves - and south to east. Look, there is Longbourn, and over here Netherfield. But I was there several times then, Aunt, and I never saw anyone…" she trailed off. "How did he…? How could he have possibly…?"

Mrs. Gardiner leaned in, voice lowered, "Lizzy, we must talk. Everything I have seen - this room, that painting - I think Mr. Darcy is in love with you."

Elizabeth turned to her aunt, eyes brimming with tears, "Not here, Aunt, not now. There is so much more to this story than you know."

"All right, but the moment we return to the inn," was just whispered before Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Gardiner joined them.

Mrs. Reynolds had watched out of the corner of her eye at the pair of women gesturing and whispering to themselves over the painting as she showed the modern facilities of the suite's water closet to the gentleman. No one at Pemberley knew anything of the odd painting that arrived four months ago, with instructions from the master to hang it in its current location, but she was positive that the young miss knew what she was looking at. Clues were falling into place, one by one, and now Kate knew it was imperative that she talk privately with Miss Bennet.

"What do we have here, Lizzy?" Asked her uncle.

Elizabeth pointed to the house on the left, smoke lazily rising from its chimneys, and matter-of-factly stated, "Longbourn, Uncle, from atop Oakham Mount." She eyed Mrs. Reynolds. "My home in Hertfordshire, ma'am."

Mrs. Reynolds's eyes widened, and she smiled to herself in triumph.

They strolled down the long window-lit hallway, stopping a few moments to view each Darcy ancestor until they reached a family portrait near the end. Mrs. Reynolds continued her narration. "And here is my favorite family picture in the gallery, a portrait of my late master, Mr. Darcy senior, my master's father, and Lady Anne Darcy, his mother. In this portrait my master had just turned thirteen, and Georgiana was about one year. Somehow, I still find myself thinking of them this way."

"She was a beautiful baby," cooed Mrs. Gardiner.

"Oh, indeed she was, ma'am, and nothing much has changed since."

Elizabeth stepped closer and ogled the black and tan Gordon setter puppy, contentedly draped over Mrs. Darcy's foot. "Socrates! How adorable he was!"

Mrs. Reynolds laughed. "And quite the scamp, Miss Bennet. It was a miracle he was in one place long enough for Mr. Phillips to paint."

"He is not much different now, even though he must be in his dotage," laughed Elizabeth. "He and I are good friends. Mr. Darcy once told me Boots - the name I gave him because of his brown paws - could find me anywhere in Rosings Park because of the scent I wore."

Of course! Why had I not noticed before? Kate thought as she moved to the next portrait, she is wearing Lady Anne's lavender scent. It all makes sense. Watching Elizabeth closely, she announced, "Finally, here we have a fine portrait of my master taken just before my late master's death."

Elizabeth gazed up at the face she knew so well and met the soft brown eyes of their owner, infused with a look and a smile she remembered to have sometime seen when he looked at her. But now she knew their meaning, and could at last (too late!) feel what it was to love. She stood there in earnest contemplation while her three companions moved on to examine drawings done by his sister, not suspecting she was the subject of close examination by one set of eyes.

Mrs. Reynolds rejoined Miss Bennet while her other charges continued to examine Miss Georgiana's drawings, but her object hardly knew she was there. Kate could see the love, almost a physical force, flow from the eyes of the young woman toward the image of her master, as if she were trying to memorize his form. After some minutes, she interrupted, "Do you not think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?"

"Yes, very handsome."

"Miss Bennet, would you do me the honor of taking tea with me in my study while your aunt and uncle tour the grounds?"

Elizabeth turned her attention to her companion. "But I had so wished to see the park. It is so beautiful."

"Yes, ma'am, but I think it very important that I talk to you. The master has not been himself these many months, and I think you know why. It would be a great help to me if I could have a word with you privately. Perhaps there would be time for an abbreviated tour of the garden after?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose I owe you an explanation, Mrs. Reynolds." And with that her gaze returned to the only object her heart wished to see.

"One spoonful or two?"

"One please, and a little cream, thank you." While her hostess busied herself with the tea things, Elizabeth meandered to the large window and gazed out between two of the six plain Doric columns that supported the magnificent front portico. Over the carriage sweep and the lawn and lake beyond, she could just barely make out her aunt and uncle in the distance, strolling with the gardener toward the lake and a footbridge beyond. She sighed, a slight smile on her face as she saw them stop to greet a soaking wet, scruffy beggar. It would be just like my aunt and uncle to offer the vagabond a shilling or two to ease his way, she thought. Odd one would see someone like him on Pemberley's grounds.

Elizabeth turned back to consider the room from which Mrs. Reynolds ran this exquisite house. Apart from a desk with its straight backed chair, and bookcases filled to the ceiling with ledger books, neatly organized by year, the only creature comforts the room boasted were two wingback chairs, a low table and the settee in front of the fireplace where she decided to await, not without some trepidation, the interview she knew was coming. It was a utilitarian space to be sure, but it seemed to match the no-nonsense character of her hostess. Its location within the mansion, however, spoke to the regard Mr. Darcy must have had for the woman who handed her cup and saucer.

Mrs. Reynolds cleared her throat before she took a sip of tea. "Miss Bennet, I am sure you will think me pretentious, but, you see…"

"You need not apologize. Truly, I understand. I could not help but see that your relationship to Mr. and Miss Darcy is more than just a housekeeper."

Mrs. Reynolds put her tea down. "Indeed. They are as dear to me as my own, and I only want them happy. You cannot serve a family for four and twenty years and not feel that way."

Elizabeth smiled. "And your feelings do you well. But I must admit, in my experience, I found your Mr. Darcy not quite the paragon you painted during the tour."

"I will accept that, Miss Bennet, if you will give me leave to say it seemed to me there is much more to your relationship to my master than mere acquaintanceship."

Elizabeth nodded, expelling a worried breath she did not know she was holding and turned her head toward the window, but not before Mrs. Reynolds saw the mist in her eyes. "It is a long, long story."

"Fortunately, we have a great deal of tea at Pemberley."

They laughed, despite, or perhaps because of, the tension in the room. Elizabeth sighed. "We met at an assembly in Hertfordshire. Or rather, I should say we did not meet at the assembly, because Mr. Darcy refused all introductions."

"I cannot believe it!"

"I am sorry to pain you, ma'am, but so it was. In fact, Mr. Darcy danced only with the ladies of his own party, and then only four dances the whole of the evening, though gentlemen were scarce, and to my certain knowledge more than one young lady was forced to sit out several dances."

Mrs. Reynolds shook her head in disbelief. "I would never have guessed such ungentlemanly behavior possible in him."

"But that was not the worst of it," Elizabeth continued. "While I was without a partner, I could not help overhearing him tell Mr. Bingley I was 'tolerable, but not handsome enough to dance with--'"

"He did not!"

"…which, unfortunately, colored my view of Mr. Darcy for many months. Though I must admit that, much later in Kent, I learned he actually admired me quite a lot." Elizabeth took a sip of her tea and decided to take the plunge. "In fact, that he loved me."

Kate nodded, "I suspected as much. You cannot stop now, Miss Bennet. Do go on. "

"I found this out during the worst proposal you can imagine."

Mrs. Reynolds's mouth dropped open. "He proposed? But you and he are not…" She slumped back into the settee's cushions. "Of course. You refused him."

"What would you have done if your suitor, apart from telling you how much he admired and loved you, recounted all his struggles to overcome your inferiority to his station in life, and your family's impropriety, member by member? And after this insult, he compounded the hurt by admitting, without a shred of remorse, mind you, that he had ruined your most beloved sister's only chance for happiness. There was more we quarreled about, Mrs. Reynolds, but I am ashamed to say that I was in the wrong about that."

"I am shocked, Miss Bennet! This account does not cast my William in a very prudential light. And yet… dare I say it? In the gallery, I could not help but notice that you looked at my boy's portrait with love in your eyes."

Elizabeth hung her head. "Yes. Oh, Mrs. Reynolds," she sobbed, "there is so much more to this story, so many misunderstandings, and, and so much that casts my own character--"

Bark! Bark! Bark! BARK!

"What on earth?" Mrs. Reynolds moved toward the door.

Click, clickity, click! Toenails hunt traction on bare wood. BARK! Clickity, CLICK-CLICKITY-CLICKITY. THUMP! Whine. BARK! BARK!

"Socrates?" Mrs. Reynolds opened the door, and in tumbled a wet, bedraggled Gordon setter, quivering with excitement. He leaped into Elizabeth's arms, licking her face enthusiastically.

"Boots! Oh Boots, I am happy to see you too, my friend! But where did you come from? I did not see you--" She finally realized he was wet and grimaced. "Yuck!"

"Socrates!"

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the sound of the deep masculine voice she knew so well.

"Socks, when I get my hands on you--" Darcy turned the corner into Mrs. Reynolds's study and stopped dead, his heart, in stages, leaping from his throat to his eyes. "Miss Bennet." He bowed awkwardly.

Her cheeks flushed with a pink blush, she curtsied to the man she loved. "Mr. Darcy."

"Master William!" Mrs. Reynolds leveled indignantly, seizing Darcy by the ear. "In the hallway. Now!" "Ow!" He complained, as she dragged him through the door, slamming it to the sound of a feminine giggle behind them.

"Tolerable, but not handsome enough to dance--" His wet, transparent shirt had, by then, leaked through to her consciousness. She eyed him up and down - wet hair, dripping breeches and, "Bare feet! Swimming in the lake! Again!"

"But I was hot," he whined.

"Just look at you! Dripping all over my floor! You may be too old for the switch, Master William, but you are not so big I cannot stand on my stool with a frying pan in hand!"

"No ma'am. I apologize. For the floor," he glanced wistfully at the closed study door, "and for many, many other things as well."

She sighed heavily and patted his arm. "I am not the one that needs to hear that. There is a young woman in there who loves you--"

"She loves me?" He grinned sheepishly.

"…who loves you, and whom, make no mistake about it, you do not deserve." His grin disappeared. "But I need her. Pemberley and Georgiana need her. And most importantly of all, William, you need her. Now, here is what I want you to do and I will make it very easy for you. Go into my study, get on your knees and say - repeat after me - 'Miss Bennet, I love you.'" She nods in expectation.

"Miss Bennet, I love you."

"Good, very good. Now say, 'will you please marry me?'"

"Will you please marry me? But Kate, I think it best I first go upstairs and make myself more presentable."

She ogled the transparency of his lawn shirt, patted his muscled chest and smiled up at him, "Mr. Darcy, sir, I think you will suit just the way you are, bare feet and all." With that, Mrs. Reynolds opened the door, shoved her master through and closed the door behind him.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner climbed the steps up to the portico-covered porch after their park tour, and were about to ring the bell to collect their niece and return to Lambton, when Mrs. Gardiner noticed the housekeeper at the far end of the porch, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, hands on her cheeks and grinning like a fool into a window. Mrs. Gardiner tugged her husband's sleeve. "Edward, look," she said, nodding in Mrs. Reynolds's direction.

They joined Mrs. Reynolds and peered into the window. "Lizzy!" Her aunt exclaimed.

Elizabeth giggled in her fiancé's arms, her head resting on his beautiful, damp chest, her eyes closed in happiness. Darcy kissed the top of her head. "What is so funny, my love?"

"When I saw you on the lawn earlier, I thought you were a beggar. Little did I know I would soon be engaged to that very same beggar." She opened her eyes to see her aunt, uncle and Mrs. Reynolds gawking at them, two with big smiles on their faces, and one with a frown. "Oops," she muttered.