Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

O ut in the bright summer day, Elizabeth drew in a deep, shuddering breath of warm air. She let it out and then took in another, releasing it in the same fashion. After several of these calming exercises, the trembling and fluttering within her began to subside, and she felt more herself. She then laughed aloud, somewhat shakily, at her own expense as the comparison that could be drawn between her current anxious condition and her mother's infamous nervous fits became apparent.

With a final glance back at the house, Elizabeth cast off the last of her disquiet and began strolling across the lawn towards the lake. Its rippling waters drew her forth with their natural eminence, soothing the uneasiness she had been feeling all day in this place. Between ghost stories and the equally haunting reminders of its absent master, Pemberley had proved to be a challenge to her equilibrium. She closed her eyes and indulged in the soft sound of splashing water, chirping birds, and rustling wind. Whatever tales of death the locals amused themselves with, this estate was full of life .

The farther away from the manor she drew, the more Elizabeth began to feel a little silly. The stories told by the boy at the inn had clearly left more of an impression than she had originally thought, and that, she concluded, must be the source of her fright. Had young Sam not told her that Pemberley was haunted, she likely would never have even noticed the events she had counted as strange happenings since her visit to the gallery. She would have ascribed everything—the creaking doors, the recalcitrant window, the conspicuously to-the-point Bible verse—as either coincidence or the wind. No, her imagination had wrought this mischief; her aunt and uncle Gardiner would be vastly amused when Elizabeth told them later over dinner how she had jumped at every insignificant noise.

A heavy splash drew Elizabeth's notice to farther up the bank, where she discovered a spotted Great Dane cavorting in the shallows. It paused now and again to stare into a willow-obscured alcove—no doubt there was some fascinating creature just out of sight—and bark before resuming its frisks, endearingly unaware of its own absurdity.

The dog, apparently sensing her presence as well, regarded her with curiosity. It tilted its head and considered her a moment before cautiously approaching.

As fond of animals as she was, especially dogs, Elizabeth offered her hand for it to sniff. "Well, what are you doing here? Have you escaped your minder?"

The dog snuffled repeatedly at her hand and, its due diligence complete, nudged her fingers into the proper position for a stroke. Elizabeth chuckled and acquiesced with a scratch behind the Great Dane's ears, crouching slightly to do the job properly. "Are you not the sweetest thing?" Its tongue lolling out of the side of its enormous mouth, the dog panted and leant further into Elizabeth's ministrations .

More splashing drew Elizabeth's gaze back to the water for a moment, but she saw little else besides a cluster of ripples emerging from beyond the willows before the Great Dane again vied for her full regard by touching its cold nose to her cheek. She laughingly apologised for her neglect and resumed her attentions.

After indulging her new friend for a few seconds longer, Elizabeth rose from her bent position and announced her intention to depart. "I really must find my aunt and uncle, but I was most pleased to make your acquaintance."

The dog whined and sidled closer, begging for affection, but Elizabeth allowed herself only one more scratch of its ears before setting off down the bank, intending to enjoy the shade cast by the willows along her way. Her aim was to reach the main drive—visible from her present position across the vast lawn—where she would almost certainly find a servant to assist her in reuniting her with her party. The dog skipped along the water's edge at her side, still earnestly petitioning for her to stop and play. She could only be amused by its antics.

"Now, now, I should love to have a good romp with you, but I cannot?—"

Elizabeth's playful scold was cut short as the dog pranced into her path, causing her to halt in place and stumble for balance. For a terrible moment, she thought she was going to fall into the lake, but she managed to dig her boots into the soft soil just enough to prevent it. Barely in time; another few inches and an unanticipated swim would have been unavoidable.

The Great Dane barked and loped forwards, entirely unabashed. Elizabeth laughed and wagged an admonishing finger. "No more of that! I have not the slightest interest in calling upon Pemberley's ghost."

As if summoned by her flippant remark, something emerged from the lake only a few scant feet away, its visage largely obscured by a tangled curtain of willow branches. Huge and hulking, it loomed out of the water. It was well above her own height, draped in weeds, and spattered with mud. Whatever it was, whether monster or phantasm, it must have once been human, for its form was clad in a bedraggled shirt and dirty breeches.

It lumbered nearer, clumsily struggling to part the veil of greenery between them. It heaved and panted as if labouring to draw breath out of the murky depths. Or perhaps the sodden beast—vengeful spirit?—was attempting to taste her on the air before it devoured her whole.

With a shriek, Elizabeth fell backwards onto the grass in her effort to evade the creature's reach. Her skirts tangled around her legs and hindered her escape from the dripping shadow, transforming her fear into mindless panic.

Then, the apparition spoke. "M-Miss Bennet?"