Not an hour later, Elizabeth followed Wells downstairs to the parlor. Her hair was swept up and secured with the loveliest pins Elizabeth had ever seen. They were a pale blue representation of roses that complemented the darling blue silk dress the maid had chosen for her.
She was surprised not by the style of the dress but by how well it fit her person. When Elizabeth thought for a moment, she supposed she and Lady Anne were of a similar form.
Her eye was drawn below by the large round table in the entry which held a heavenly array of the loveliest blooms she had ever beheld. Elizabeth allowed her mind to wander. Glancing about, she imagined there were guests waiting to meet her, the new mistress of Pemberley. She smiled as her steps became lighter in the lovely satin slippers upon her feet.
Her dreams of Mr. Darcy were never so bold as they had been once she had come to Brambling Hall. Being near to the man must have increased her longing for him and his fine handsome house. That she might one day call this wonderful house her home was a dream she held as a secret, even from Jane.
Elizabeth recalled the unfortunate business of the entailment of Longbourn and their cousin, William Collins. She was pleased to be far from the argument which would ensue should he choose one of her younger sisters as his bride. Their mother was most pleased with Jane and her match and hoped for Elizabeth to catch Mr. Darcy’s eye. But if she did not, Elizabeth was certain her mother would give her to Mr. Collins to marry. She shook thoughts of that situation away and allowed her eyes to feast on the beauty that was Pemberley.
Wells led her to the parlor and Elizabeth cleared her mind again of all the thoughts flitting about as birds in a cage, their wings weary of their prison.
She smiled and nodded to Lady Anne as she entered the room, keeping her eyes on the woman and not upon the furnishings, though tempting they were. Tea arrived and Elizabeth sat across from Lady Anne by the fireplace.
“My dear, you bring such graceful beauty to the dress. I have not worn it since I was your age, I daresay.”
Elizabeth released the breath she held and gave one of her infectious smiles to the woman. “It is the loveliest dress I have ever worn. I am most grateful for your thoughtful hospitality, Lady Anne.” Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair as the lady took her hand.
“I am at a disadvantage, I fear. You well know my identity and yet, I know you not. I have seen you walking the property of Brambling Hall where it joins Pemberley and hoped you might venture closer, but not into the lake, my dear! Your name, please?”
“Elizabeth Bennet, your ladyship, I am from Hertfordshire but live at Brambling Hall with my sister and brother, Jane and Charles Bingley.”
The woman nodded and her eyes became distant as though she had just remembered the name Bingley. “Why yes, he is a particular friend of my son William. How wonderful he has settled near Pemberley.”
“Speaking of Mr. Darcy, is he expected home soon?” Elizabeth asked as she took the cup the maid offered.
Lady Anne smiled weakly and Elizabeth feared the woman might weep at any moment. “He has gone to Town for business once more, I fear. This house once held precious memories but has become our grave.”
Elizabeth trembled, for the woman's grief was palpable. Lady Anne placed her cup upon the small table between them with shaking hands and sighed a heartbreaking sound that caused Elizabeth to kneel before her and take her into her arms. She rocked the great woman gently and smoothed her hair.
Elizabeth suddenly understood the shadow Mr. Darcy had become. His sister lie beneath the cold ground and his mother lie above, her life taken as surely as Georgiana’s.
She stayed past tea time and helped Lady Anne to her rooms. She got her into bed and read to her until the woman called for her evening tea, given with laudanum no doubt. “Please stay Miss Bennet. I cannot bear another night alone. I shall have a footman return to Brambling Hall in your stead with an explanation for your sister.”
Elizabeth would not abandon the woman and so she nodded her consent and continued reading until Mr. Darcy’s mother fell into a deep sleep.
As the morning dawned, Elizabeth stretched in the chair beside Lady Anne’s bed. The book in her lap slid to the floor, and she bent to retrieve it. Her stomach rumbled, and she placed a hand there in apology as she rose and met the piercing blue eyes of her hostess.
“Miss Bennet, have you sat there the whole of the night? You ought to have left me and gone to your room and sought your slumber, dear.”
Elizabeth stared for a moment before she smiled at Lady Anne. “You were so kind and helpful yesterday. I wanted to repay your generosity.”
Elizabeth opened the book where she had left off but Lady Anne yawned and stretched in her bed. “I am famished this morning. Would you break fast with me?”
Elizabeth nodded and rose to place the leather-bound book in her seat. “Shall I call for Wells?” she asked.
Lady Anne smiled at her, and Elizabeth rushed to her side. Plainly, the charm of the man she admired had come from his mother. “Would you mind helping me instead? Wells will enjoy a morning to herself and I find myself well pleased with your company.”
Elizabeth took her hand and helped her from the bed. “It will be my pleasure. Shall I ring for the bath?”
Living at Longbourn, Elizabeth was accustomed to sharing their one maid with the ladies of her home, so Lady Anne’s request was quite reasonable to her.
Lady Anne nodded and Elizabeth arranged her morning ritual and sat her before the closets as they chose her outfit for the morning. For Elizabeth, it was a quiet, precious time. There was no screaming of her sisters, no chatter from her mother, and no rush of six ladies in the stirring of a house come the morning. Lady Anne chose a claret silk gown and Elizabeth helped her undress for the bath.
“We shall be ready for the morning meal soon, my dear. You may wish to freshen up in your room and meet me here before we go down to the breakfast parlor together.”
She embraced Elizabeth before following the maid into the bath. Elizabeth made her way from Lady Anne’s rooms to her own, farther along the hallway. She thought she heard the faint sound of voices downstairs. In a house this grand, it must be the servants preparing the house for the day ahead.
The door to her room was open and a maid tended the fire. Elizabeth's eye fell upon another lovely gown upon the bed. The pale pink satin was exquisite and tiny pearls decorated the neckline. She hastened to wash her face but waved the maid away, preferring to dress herself.
The maid left her and Elizabeth twirled around the room, her heart giddy at the opulence of just this one room, a guest room. Lady Anne’s room was cheerfully decorated in teals and yellow with plum accents here and there. When Elizabeth had thrown back the drapes, she had gasped at the beauty of the room. Her sadness at the idea of the woman sitting alone in the darkness in such splendor pierced her heart once more.
After a glance in the mirror, she hurried from her room and along the hall to meet Lady Anne. She did not wish to disappoint her generous host by being late. At the stairs, she glanced down to adjust her skirts and startled as a pair of large warm hands found her own. Her breath caught, and she stifled a scream.
“Miss Bennet, what are you doing at Pemberley?” Mr. Darcy’s deep, rich, voice and the touch of his hands sent a delicious thrill through her body. She faltered for words as Lady Anne approached.
“William, you have come home.”
She came and stood beside Elizabeth and gazed proudly at her son. Mr. Darcy took his mother’s hand and kissed it gently, the worry in his eyes plain.
“Yes, Mother. I finished my business in Town. I was unaware you were entertaining a guest.”
Lady Anne smiled and took Elizabeth’s arm in her own. “Come to the breakfast parlor and I will introduce you to the lovely Miss Bennet of Brambling Hall. She came to us in a predicament yesterday, she did.”
Lady Anne winked at Elizabeth and led her downstairs. Her heart was still racing at the unexpected meeting with Mr. Darcy. She felt his eyes upon the nape of her neck as they gained the breakfast parlor.
It was clear his mother was unaware of their acquaintance in Hertfordshire and Elizabeth did not find fault with the man for that slight. Their brief association would have proven forgettable at the loss of his dear sister, swallowed whole as he was by the consuming tide of grief.