Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

" O h my, that does smell wonderful," Elizabeth praised as the stew she and the Gardiners had ordered was brought into their private quarters. After a long day on the road, she was eager for something hearty to eat, even if it was simple inn fare.

"Indeed, it does," agreed her uncle Gardiner as the dish was placed in the centre of the table. He leant forwards and inhaled deeply, visibly appreciating the aroma of cooked mutton, potatoes, onions, and carrots. "Though anything would seem more appetising than our breakfast."

Elizabeth and her aunt voiced their agreement heartily; that morning's repast had been so entirely inedible that they had departed from their previous lodgings without having partaken of any of it, leaving them all ravenous. Now, they were prepared to eat voraciously to make up for their earlier lack of nourishment. Blessedly, the cook at the Blue Lady knew what she was about.

The maid bobbed a polite curtsey before enquiring, "Will you be needing anything else, ma'am?"

"Perhaps some bread?" suggested Mr Gardiner .

Once the servant had departed, Mrs Gardiner addressed both of her dining companions. "So, what shall we do tomorrow? I know we had previously discussed paying a visit to Pemberley, but no decision has yet been made. What say you?"

"I have no aversion to the scheme," said Mr Gardiner as he spread his linen napkin over his lap.

Elizabeth, who had been blowing gently on a steaming spoonful of mutton and potato, lowered the utensil back into her dish as her stomach began to writhe uncomfortably. She had rather hoped her relations might forget about visiting that particular estate after she had made a point of showing a lack of enthusiasm for it before, but such had been apparently too much to hope for. "To be perfectly honest, Aunt, I have no inclination for touring another grand house. We have seen so many of late, and I really take no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains."

"My love, should you not like to see a place of which you have heard so much?" Mrs Gardiner asked between bites. "A place, too, with which so many of your acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know."

How could she forget? Elizabeth fought the impulse to grimace at the mention of that particular man—for a gentle man he was not—given her more recent knowledge of his unscrupulous behaviour. She was sure that his past associations with Pemberley were very pleasing to him but rather doubted that anyone else who lived there shared that opinion of his residency.

Coughing a little, Elizabeth replied, "Would it not be…presumptuous to visit Pemberley without a proper invitation?"

"An invitation?" Mr Gardiner lifted his wine glass and smirked at his niece over the rim before taking a sip. "You were not so missish at Blenheim or Chatsworth. Why should we require an invitation to Pemberley?"

Because the proprietors of those great estates had not proposed marriage to me and been rejected soundly. Elizabeth could say no such thing aloud, so she contented herself with silence as a response.

"If it were merely a fine house richly furnished," persisted Mrs Gardiner, picking up where her husband had left off, "I should not care about it myself, but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country. Is that not so?" She posed this last question to the maid, who had just returned with their requested loaf of bread.

"Indeed, ma'am. You'd not see finer anywhere," the girl agreed as she laid the additional fare on the table and began portioning it out to her patrons. A young lad of about twelve years entered the room behind her with logs cradled in his arms for the evening fire. He set to work against the far wall while the conversation continued around him.

"And is the family in residence?" Elizabeth lowered her eyes to her plate in the hopes that the earnestness of her query would go unnoticed. She could hear as well as feel the rapid thudding of her pulse as she awaited an answer.

"No, miss. Last I heard, Mr Darcy were off to London."

Elizabeth felt the tension in her shoulders ease at this welcome news. Her throbbing heart slowed its pace, and the warmth in her cheeks subsided. She picked up her spoon and dished up a portion, suddenly hungry again.

"You don't want to go to Pemberley, missus," cried the boy from across the room. He stood next to the fireplace, dusted with ash, and regarded them with wide eyes. "Haunted, it is!"

"Hush, you!" chided the maid. She turned back and begged pardon on the boy's behalf. "I am so sorry, sir, ma'am, miss. Sam is full of fanciful notions, he is. Always going on about something or other."

Mr Gardiner, leaning back in his chair with his hands spread across his happily full stomach, dismissed her contrition with a chuckle. "No need to apologise, lass, the boy meant no harm. Haunted, you say?"

The child nodded vigorously and stepped forwards, his hands gesticulating out of the open window in what Elizabeth assumed must be the direction of Pemberley. He was warming to his topic and spoke with the kind of enthusiasm that only the youthful could manage. "Aye, haunted! I seen it fer meself when I worked in the stables last summer. That place be full o' spirits."

Mrs Gardiner looked at Elizabeth with a smile curling the corners of her lips; she had much practice in indulging her own fanciful children and had shared many of their more outlandish yarns with her elder nieces. Elizabeth returned her merriment in kind as her uncle continued to dig the particulars out of their storyteller.

Mr Gardiner leant forwards again, propping his elbows upon the table and his chin upon the interlaced fingers of his hands. "Indeed? Are they very frightening?"

The boy arched his back so that his spine stood straight and to attention. "I am not afraid of ghosts, sir."

"Certainly not. I would never have suspected it of you. But are there many ghosts? Shall we see one if we visit?"

"Aye, there's a lady in an ol' blue dress that's said to come up out o' the lake if you?—"

"That's quite enough out of you!" said the maid, shooing the boy towards the door with a double wave of her hands. "There's plenty o' work to be done round here and never enough time to do it in. Leave off telling your wild stories and get off with you. Go and see to the Millers' fire."

The boy scowled at her for interrupting but bowed to the table and left. The way he held his nose aloft reminded Elizabeth strongly of a young lady she had met the previous autumn, and the comparison was most amusing. She held a knuckle to her lips, pressed against her growing smile, and strongly fought the desire to laugh aloud.

Once the boy's footsteps could be heard clomping down the staircase, the maid turned back to the Gardiners and offered another anxious apology. "Sorry again, sir, ma'am. Sam is full of tall tales. Truly, Pemberley is a wonderful place, not a bit frightening, and well worth visiting."

Elizabeth suspected that, in a small town like Lambton, a merchant was always careful about what was said of the principal estate of the area. No doubt they feared that the Darcys would revoke their custom should they discover that ghost stories were being spread about their family seat. With her better knowledge of Mr Darcy's generous character, she felt that he would never be so cruel, but perhaps his forbidding countenance engendered caution in the populace. No small wonder. He can appear rather fearsome even when he is attempting to be friendly! Or courting a young lady. She grimaced at the recollection of her own blindness.

"Do not worry yourself about it," said Mr Gardiner, leaning back again to sit more comfortably in his chair. "We have a boy at home about his age, and he is always telling us the most entertaining stories. Cannot believe a single thing he tells you, but he keeps us all laughing."

"Thank you, sir. Please ring the bell if there's anything more you be needing." The maid then scurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Mrs Gardiner turned back to Elizabeth. " So, shall we visit Pemberley after all? If we are very lucky, perhaps we shall see some of the former residents while we are there." The lady's smile grew incrementally at her jest, and her companions chuckled their appreciation of it.

Elizabeth, feeling it would be churlish to protest further and comforted by the sure knowledge that Mr Darcy would not be at home during their visit, allowed that she should very much like to see what lurked in the depths of Pemberley's lake. "If not a ghost, perhaps a sea monster?" She earned a deep belly laugh from her uncle and a more ladylike titter from her aunt for this quip.

With no further objections to the scheme, to Pemberley they were to go.