Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

" S o, Mr Darcy, what have you to say about these stories we have been hearing since we arrived in Lambton? Are the hallowed halls of Pemberley truly haunted?" Mr Gardiner asked as he carved his delectably tender slice of beef into bite-sized pieces. He placed one into his mouth and sighed in appreciation for the flavour.

Mr Darcy raised his head away from Elizabeth on his left, with whom he had been indulging in quiet conversation on various subjects, and fixed her uncle with a quizzical expression. "I beg your pardon?"

"We have heard from two separate sources"—Mr Gardiner flicked a glance at Miss Darcy at the other end of the table where she was speaking quietly to Mrs Hurst—"that this great house is supposedly afflicted with spirits. What say you, sir?"

Elizabeth wished to melt into the floor. Had her silly mother been present, she could not have asked a more mortifying question. Likely excessively vulgar, but not more mortifying. She resisted the impulse to bury her face in her hands and instead focused on the delicious food she no longer wished to eat.

"I have heard several such stories, but they are all rubbish," Mr Darcy replied. "I have resided here my entire life, save for those years I was away at school or university, and have never seen aught that I would consider supernatural. The townspeople tend to be superstitious."

After swallowing his bite, Mr Gardiner countered, "Then how do you explain what happened to our Lizzy the other day just before she fished you from the lake, eh?"

Elizabeth could feel Mr Darcy's scrutiny burning into her scalp, but she refused to look at him. "Happened? What happened to Eli—Miss Bennet?"

"It was nothing," she hastily replied, raising her head to affix him with a smile she hoped was charming. "This sauce is divine. Might I take the receipt home to Cook at Longbourn? I know my father would enjoy it."

"Why, she was chased about the house by ghosts, sir!" Mr Gardiner continued as if she had not spoken at all. His tone was infused with jolly amusement.

"Are you still on about ghosts, Miss Eliza?" Miss Bingley broke in from midway down the table where she had been sitting in sullen silence so far. Now her face was split with a smirk at Elizabeth's expense. "I suppose it is no wonder, if you believe you have been beset by them. Poor dear, seeing things that are not really there! Perhaps you ought to engage the services of a physician."

"I never claimed to see a ghost, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth replied with a touch of asperity. The lady raised her eyebrow slightly, increasing the smugness of her expression.

"But something did happen during your tour of Pemberley, Miss Bennet?" Mr Darcy asked in a tone of concern that might have been touching were the subject not so humiliating.

Elizabeth averted her eyes to her plate and speared a potato with her fork. "Not at all, sir. My uncle exaggerates."

"Come now, Lizzy," Mr Gardiner persisted, "it is hardly something to be reticent about! You remember that she was alone when she stumbled across you in the lake, yes?" He said this to Mr Darcy, who nodded, a small frown upon his lips and brow. "She had become separated from us after our visit to your excellent gallery. While there, apparently, a door opened of its own accord, and a window within the same room slammed itself shut and would not open again. All likely caused by some mischievous wind."

Elizabeth pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, exasperated. At least he neglected to mention the incident with the Bible in the master's study.

"I see," said Mr Darcy, turning back to Elizabeth. "I apologise if such events gave you a fright. I shall see to the maintenance of my doors and windows immediately."

"It was nothing," Elizabeth repeated with some vehemence, dropping her hand to frown meaningfully at Mr Gardiner. He seemed not a whit remorseful and was probably eager to report this scene to Mr Bennet upon their return. "Truly, as my uncle said, it was likely just the wind. I am sure there is naught amiss in your lovely house, Mr Darcy."

"Of course not! Pemberley is perfection itself." Miss Bingley then turned the subject to flattering her host and all his possessions. She was largely disregarded by the party; even Mrs Hurst only seemed to listen to her monologue with one ear.

Elizabeth and Mr Darcy resumed their conversation from earlier, but her embarrassment over the silly matter of her misadventure put a damper on her enthusiasm. She wished she could laugh off her humiliation as he had done, but she felt so self-conscious in his presence that it was difficult for her to do so.

Then again, she supposed it was nonsensical of her to hold on to her mortification when he had not, and she vowed to make more of an effort to overcome it. With that in mind, she took a breath and said, "Pemberley may not be haunted, but I assure you that Longbourn is. Sir, while you were in Hertfordshire, did any of the locals happen to tell you the tale of the ghostly goat?"

Mr Darcy's enigmatic smile spread a touch wider. "I cannot say I had that pleasure."

"Well, it all began when my great-great-granny Bennet put out her washing one fine day…"