The next day, Elizabeth journeyed once again with the Collinses and Maria to the grand estate of Rosings Park; only, Elizabeth was disheartened to learn, Mr. Darcy was enjoying a hunting trip with Colonel Fitzwilliam and would not be joining them that day.
Well, she wouldn’t say disheartened, in particular. Elizabeth bit her lip, taking just a moment to cast a hopeful glance around her as she made her way into the sitting room. She was simply… disappointed that he would not be joining them during this particular visit. Yes, disappointed. That was the word.
Her thoughts scattered as she spotted an unfamiliar face in the sitting room; one who now reclined easy across the length of Lady Catherine’s prized settee.
A brave soul, that one. Elizabeth grinned in spite of herself, stepping forward to engage the stranger—a delicate fair-skinned brunette dressed in a day dress of ivory muslin dotted with a dainty violet print—in a greeting.
“Good day, Miss,” she greeted the unsmiling young woman, who appeared to be about the age of twenty-one. “I am Elizabeth Bennet, of the Longbourn Bennets. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
The girl shook her head.
“I have not spoken,” she corrected Elizabeth, leaning back hard on the arm of the settee. “At all, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips. While the woman was correct, her words were still more than a bit odd.
“Would you happen to be Lady Catherine’s daughter?” she asked, arching her eyebrows in a show of inquiry.
She had heard from Charlotte that the matron had a daughter—which is why it had been all the more peculiar for Elizabeth to find that the daughter in question had been absent during their visit the day before.
The girl cocked her head.
“Yes, I am Anne de Bourgh,” she affirmed. “How did you know, Miss?”
Elizabeth shrugged.
“Fortunate guess,” she murmured, clearing her throat loudly as she continued, “I have come here for a visit with my dear friend Charlotte Collins, her husband and sister. I hope that we will have the grandest time today, chatting and getting to know one another.”
It was Anne’s turn to shrug.
“I am not one for chatting, Miss Bennet,” she announced, her words dissolving into a loud, harsh cough that brought a look of concern to Elizabeth’s face.
“Are you quite all right, my dear?” Elizabeth queried, leaning forward to lay a concerned hand on her hostess’ shoulder.
“Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth straightened immediately as she heard the familiar voice of Charlotte behind her, turning to face the entrance.
“Yes, Charlotte?” she asked, more than pleased to note the entry of her sunny, cheery friend—an outwardly plain woman whose golden heart shone through in the glow of her smile.
Advancing forth into the sitting room, Charlotte came to stand beside her friend as Anne continued to cough and hack.
“I see that you’ve met Miss de Bourgh,” Charlotte noted, nodding politely in the direction of their young hostess. “Mr. Collins and I were speaking to Lady Catherine in the entryway, and she bid us to leave her daughter be for the duration of the afternoon. Apparently, she does not feel her best this day.”
For the first time since Elizabeth’s arrival, Anne smiled.
“Thank you, Mama!” she called out, turning her face from her guests as she ceased to acknowledge their presence.
Elizabeth froze, trying to remember as to when—if ever—she had felt less welcome in the home of another individual. Gritting her teeth, she could now see as to where Mr. Darcy derived his warm and amiable disposition.
She knew she wasn’t being entirely fair, however, as the events of yesterday had introduced a kinder, more abiding Darcy; leading her to believe that the stalwart gentleman and land owner might indeed have a second side from the one she had got to know in Hertfordshire.
Could it be? she pondered, stroking her chin in a show of keen contemplation.
Her meditation was disrupted moments later, as a virtual whirlwind of frenetic energy swept unbidden into the room; arriving in a vibrant swish of mint green skirts as their owner dashed through a corner entryway.
Miss Georgiana Darcy immediately rushed forth to envelop Elizabeth in a warm embrace of welcome.
“Miss Bennet! Do forgive my boldness, but it is so very good to see you again!” Georgiana enthused, pulling back to charm Elizabeth with a bright, sincere smile.
Elizabeth chuckled, returning the girl’s hug and cordial greetings before standing back and watching as she launched similar attacks of affection on Maria and Charlotte.
With her youthful energy, Georgiana reminded Elizabeth very much of her youngest sister, Lydia – however without the overindulged and spoiled qualities. Oh, if only Lydia could be more like her…
Elizabeth immediately shook her head to clear it of any unsociable notions regarding her youngest sister. She did love Lydia dearly, and it was hardly her fault that Mother spoiled and indulged her so. Yet Georgiana was just so—spirited! The girl was a delight!
Soon, the sprightly young woman returned to her side, taking her hand as she heaped effusive praise on Elizabeth’s dress; a striped cotton-blend, ivory-tinted day gown with lovely lace-fringed cuffs and collar, and a dramatic tri-tiered skirt.
“You look so lovely, Miss Elizabeth!” Georgiana observed, making a sweeping gesture down the length of her svelte form. “It seems as though you are wearing a dress just perfect for a garden party. However did you know?!”
Elizabeth gaped, just a bit uncertain as to what the girl meant.
“Well, actually I didn’t,” she admitted finally. “Are we indeed having a garden party this day?”
“Indeed, we are!” Georgiana insisted, her words accompanied by a laugh. “As you may have guessed, Miss Bennet, the estate of Rosings Park is named for—now, do not be shocked—the roses that line the estate.” She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, as though she was indeed revealing a prized and coveted family secret.
Mr. Collins looked on amused as his wife and sister-in-law exchanged looks of shock at the revelation of this “news”; joining a gaping Elizabeth in playing along with their young hostess.
“Do you tell us the truth, Georgiana?” Elizabeth demanded, feigning a tone of utter disbelief as she planted her hands on her hips. “Or do you simply jest with us? Come now, speak the truth!”
Georgiana wagged her head up and down, emphatic in her assertion as her feet bounced along in accordance with this gesture.
“I assure you, Miss Bennet, I do speak the truth!” she insisted, her crystal blue eyes brimming with an earnest sincerity that brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. “Yet, if you do indeed cease to believe me, I shall be more than pleased to show you the garden myself.”
The girl looked on with wide, wandering eyes as the trio of women before her bent their heads together; Elizabeth whispering and nodding as though deliberating a matter of grave importance.
Finally, Elizabeth turned once again to face her eager young hostess; gracing her with a short, affirming nod as she declared, “Well, the ladies and I have duly decided that we must see this glorious rose garden for ourselves.”
Her fresh young face erupting at once into a wide brilliant beam, Georgiana beckoned her guests forth with a shrill whoop and bounded outright out the door.
Charlotte gritted her teeth.
“Not to be prudish, Elizabeth,” she whispered as an aside to her friend—one who, at this point, seemed to be clenching her corseted sides in an attempt to restrain her mirth. “Yet should we not remind the young lady not to run about so much and laugh so loudly—particularly in the house?”
Elizabeth thought a moment, then shook her head.
“Quite the contrary, my friend,” she declared, and added with a playful wink, “I say that we too laugh loudly and run alongside her.”
With these words Elizabeth took off in a fervent dead heat; racing after Georgiana through a crystalline pair of classic French doors.
She gaped outright as this move revealed a lovely and ethereal vision: the spectacle of the Rosings Park rose garden.
For just a moment, she continued to run, watching as a vibrant prism of lush scarlet florals merged as one with a crystal blue sky.
The balmy breezes of a crisp English morn kissed her smiling face as she immersed herself in the radiance of nature; her young guide running and jumping before her as a giggling Maria ran to catch up with them. Her dearest friend Charlotte followed breathless in their wake.
Finally, the giggling foursome came to a stop at the center of the garden; gasping to catch their breath as they clutched hands between them and marveled at the wonder of their newly born adventure.
Elizabeth took a moment to savor her surroundings; taking her first good and thorough look at the marvel of Rosings Park.
The trademark roses lining the estate glowed in their intense ruby red radiance; their scarlet-hued beauty blooming upward from a lush canvas of lovely emerald lawns.
Stepping just a bit closer to inspect the nature-made glamour that defined this stretch of land, Elizabeth noted the sheer diversity of the roses presented for view.
Selected blooms gleamed a signature scarlet red that dazzled the eye; their graceful shape and elegant contours reigning supreme among the garden’s foliage. She also couldn’t help but notice, however, that the smaller pink roses that grew graceful beside these majestic floral queens served their own role in this court of nature; glistening like shiny pearls among the emerald glass glades and dew-glistened clover beds that completed the flower bed.
As much as she hated to close her eyes to this glorious floral spectacle, Elizabeth nonetheless did so; taking a long refreshing moment to savour the scent of roses and inhale a strong whiff of their ethereal perfumed scent. Her senses felt awash in this intoxicating scent, one enhanced by the gentle flow of morning breezes as they caressed her fair cheeks.
Suddenly, in her mind’s eye, she conjured something of a whimsical fantasy; a dream that took the form of a lovely rose bouquet clasped between her hands—one intermingled with fresh ivory baby’s breath and wrapped in a shiny pink ribbon.
Her face erupted in a girlish grin as she considered her lush floral gift. And after lowering her head to inhale its sweet fragrance, she raised her gaze to behold its giver—a handsome and all-too-familiar ebony-haired gentleman who regarded her with warm brown eyes and an ever-gentle smile.
Darcy? Warm eyes? Ever-gentle smile? Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at the very notion, trying to banish the thought from her mind. That she would even think of such! Had someone put something passing funny in her tea?
Her encounter with Darcy yesterday, she found, had caused her to see the staunch, ever-dignified man in something of a different light.
The way that he had looked at her as she played the piano, the manner in which he had applauded her after the performance… He seemed transformed in some ways. Not quite so stoic as he had during his visit to Hertfordshire…
Elizabeth shook her head from side to side as she contemplated the impossible. Oh, he had remained very stalwart and dignified at all times, but she could swear she had also seen beneath the façade; to the point that he seemed almost—human, perhaps?
Ah, what brand of nonsense was she thinking? Opening her eyes and standing up straight, Elizabeth let go of her thoughts of Mr. Darcy—coming instead face-to-face with a concerned looking Miss Darcy; a girl who, she couldn’t help but notice, actually could stand still for a moment—if, that is, she made a solid and concerted effort to do so.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Elizabeth?” she asked, joining a quiet Charlotte and a confused-looking Maria in pinning her guest with a look of abject concern.
Elizabeth smiled.
“Yes, my dear,” she assured the younger girl. “I am perfectly fine. I was merely thinking.”
Brightening immediately, the sister of the man who had caused her such consternation once again served to brighten her day; challenging her, Maria and Charlotte to another impromptu foot race that took them winding through the mazes and trails of exotic Rosings Park.
Clutching the pure ivory skirts of her soft muslin day dress, Elizabeth pulled back and motioned for a now-grinning Charlotte and Maria to do the same; allowing a gleeful Georgiana to win their race by several long yards.
“I do love to win a race!” the girl cried, jumping up and down and pumping her tiny fists in the air. “And even I do not win, I still love to run in the rose garden.”
She paused here, her smile dissolving as she turned to face her newly discovered playmates. “Auntie tells me that a proper young lady has no business running, or getting dirty in the rose garden, or….”
“…Or actually doing anything that makes life remotely enjoyable?” Elizabeth interjected, earning a nudge in the ribs from a smirking Charlotte.
“Yes,” Georgiana released on a sigh, hanging her head as she picked at the threads of her silk lilac day dress.
Gracing the girl with an empathetic smile, Elizabeth lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and urged her, “So I say that, on this day, we have all the fun in the world—more than enough to compensate for all of the frivolity you have missed.”
Charlotte nodded, a smile playing on her lips.
“I agree. Perhaps we may allow for a day of fun for once,” she concurred, tilting her head inquisitive in Georgiana’s direction. “Tell us what you like to do best—aside from running another foot race, that is—please remember that Elizabeth and I have concluded our teen years. But whatever else it is that you favour, sweet Georgiana, we shall do.”
Maria agreed.
“It has been altogether far too long since I had a day of good fun!” she declared, clapping merrily at the very idea. “Please do tell us, Miss Darcy. What shall we do this day?”
Georgiana stroked her tiny chin, biting her lip as she seemed to consider with a great deal of seriousness the answer to the question posed.
Finally, in a burst of inspiration, she quite literally elevated several inches from the ground and exclaimed, “Croquet! I adore croquet!”
Applauding her choice, Elizabeth bid the girl to escort her, Maria and Charlotte to her resident croquet field; a distant corner of the rose garden that came ready-lined with hoops, wooden mallets and balls coloured every hue of the rainbow.
Although more than pleased to let the precious Georgiana win any and all road races, Elizabeth took a marked different approach to croquet; her competitive spirit taking over as she hit every ball with strength and precision.
For a few precious moments, she managed to forget the strictures that bound and confined her life. For just a while, she frolicked unburdened by the dictates of her society; forgetting to straighten her skirts and lower her voice, neglecting her mother’s dictates and demands, and banishing the tempting but troublesome Mr. Darcy to the far reaches of her liberated mind.
She watched with great pleasure as Charlotte, Maria and Georgiana also seemed to lose themselves in the moment; chatting merry and guffawing outright as they enjoyed several spirited rounds of the classic game of croquet. And although Elizabeth reigned supreme as the clear and victorious winner of two of four matches, Georgiana still raced forward to clutch her shoulders and hug her tight at the end of their afternoon.
“I am so glad to have met you, Miss Elizabeth,” she told her new friend. “I dearly hope that you will return soon, and call me your friend.”
Elizabeth smiled.
“We are friends,” she affirmed, bringing a broad smile to Georgiana’s face. “Thank you for a beautiful day, dear Georgiana. What do you say we go inside for a spot of tea, and then return here for the afternoon?”
Georgiana’s eyes flew abnormally wide as she paused to consider this concept; one that apparently pleased her endlessly.
“More fun?” she exclaimed, bouncing higher with every syllable. “I would love to!”