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ELISANDER ULTIMATELY regretted his decision to accompany his mother on the trip to Warwickshire. They were there for nearly a fortnight before their cousin's health showed signs of improvement. Even after wellness was achieved, his mother lingered for a few more days.
Elisander did not know how to occupy his time, and his companions left something to be desired. He spent most of his days reading books, writing to Joseph, and listening to the quarrels of his younger brothers. Lachlan and Matthew adored each other, and yet they bickered with such venom, Elisander's head ached after listening to them.
His mother forbade him to spend time with Shar Lucas, who had accompanied them on the trip. Mrs. Bennet was usually less strict than her husband, but she did not want her relations to think poorly of her family. “If Augusta saw you spending time with the man who cares for our horses, she would be mortified!” Mrs. Bennet once remarked.
Elisander sometimes read books to Augusta, which she seemed to enjoy. They did it so often, his voice had gone a bit hoarse from reading aloud.
“You know...” Augusta told him one morning, “We are not so far from Pemberley. I believe you are acquainted with the owner of the house, Captain Fitzwilliam. Would you not like to visit the place? You've heard much about it, I'm sure.”
Elisander finally trained himself to stop thinking about Darcy. In his mind, he secretly cursed the woman who forced him to think of her again. He never mentioned the name Captain Fitzwilliam to Augusta, so he assumed it was his mother who put the thought in her head.
“I... I have no business at Pemberley,” Elisander stammered. “I do not know what Mother has told you, but our acquaintance with Darcy is slight, at best. Besides, when you've toured many great houses, they get a bit tiresome.”
“If it was merely a great house, I would not care about it myself, but the grounds are extraordinary!” Augusta exclaimed. “They have some of the finest woods in the country.”
Elisander said no more, but his mind was already troubled. He shuddered at the possibility of meeting Darcy while touring her estate.
Augusta spread the thought to his mother, who insisted on a visit to Captain Fitzwilliam's property. Elisander might have declined, but he was already riding with his mother and brothers when the idea was proposed. With a heavy heart and a tensely held breath, Elisander waited for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods. The park was immense, and there were a great many deer roaming on Darcy's estate. As he watched a fawn sprint after her mother, Elisander's lips were stretched by a smile.
When the wood ceased and Elisander's eyes fell on Pemberley House, an audible groan escaped from his throat. It was a handsome stone building, rising well above ground, with a backdrop of sprawling green hills and towering oaks. In front of the house, there was a tree-lined pond, crystal blue in color. More than one family of ducks drifted along its steady waters.
“My god, it's magnificent!” Mrs. Bennet cried.
“Yes... it is,” Elisander answered in a hollow voice. Had he accepted Darcy's proposal, he would have spent the rest of his days in the paradise of Pemberley.
“Have you ever seen a more beautiful place?”
“No, I... don't believe I have,” Elisander admitted. He glanced at his brothers, who were staring in awe at the impressive edifice.
The carriage halted not far from the house, and Elisander's mother alighted with a grunt. Guests were permitted to tour a portion of the house and grounds, and Mrs. Bennet insisted on the most thorough possible visit.
They were greeted by the groundskeeper, a respectable-looking elderly woman who wore a constant smile. She remarked on the scarcity of visitors and welcomed them in. Elisander longed to ask if the mistress of Pemberley was truly absent, but he could not force the question through his lips.
Pemberley's rooms were lofty and handsome, and its furniture was as expensive as one might expect. Elisander felt a light pinch of regret as they explored, but he refused to lament his decision to decline Darcy's proposal.
“Look!” Mrs. Bennet stopped in front of a portrait of Darcy. “What do you think, Elisander? Is the lady as handsome in the portrait as she is in real life?”
Elisander barely had time to process the question before the groundskeeper spoke up.
“Does the young man know Captain Fitzwilliam?”
“Um...” Elisander's cheeks were warm, so he assumed they were coloring. “A bit.”
“And do you not think she's a very beautiful woman?” the groundskeeper rephrased his mother's question.
Elisander's response was tinged with sadness. “Yes. Very beautiful.” He could not tear his gaze from the painted eyes of the woman who might have been his wife. However, he was forced to look away when the groundskeeper directed their attention to a portrait of Georgiana Fitzwilliam when she was eight years old.
“Is the younger sister as handsome as the captain?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“I believe so,” the groundskeeper replied. “She's a sad girl, though. A sad, sad girl.”
Even Elisander's younger brothers seemed to perk up at the description of Georgiana. Everyone wanted to know why the young lady was sad, but no one dared to ask.
When the Bennets had their fill of Pemberley's interior, they decided to tour the grounds on their own. Elisander parted with his mother and brothers and strolled through Pemberley's garden by himself. There were so many flowers, no less than three petals stuck to his coat as he wandered.
Elisander's walk eventually led him to the front of the house, where he stopped to admire the ducks.
“I wish I could feed you,” Elisander whispered to the young, gray ducks as they gathered around his feet. “You look eager to see me, but I'm afraid I have to disappoint you.”
Elisander's body froze when he heard a gentle swish of water. His gaze slowly drifted to the opposite side of the pond, where, to his horror, Darcy Fitzwilliam was swimming. When she realized she had a guest, she climbed out of the water and dabbed her hair dry. The lady was in her shirtsleeves. Her white shirt stuck to her body in such a scandalous way, Elisander's heart raced at the sight of her.
“Mr. Bennet?” Darcy exclaimed. “Elisander Bennet... is that you?”
Elisander slowly turned in her direction. His worst nightmare was unfolding in front of him, and there was no escape in sight. “I, uh... I'm afraid so, my lady. After our disastrous last encounter, I'm sure you despise the sight of my face.”
Darcy's answer surprised him. “Not at all.” As she moved closer to him, her towel squeezed her dripping blonde locks. “Actually, Mr. Bennet... it's very good to see you again.”