Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

" M -Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth ceased struggling with her skirts as the voice of the newly risen spirit struck her as familiar. She raised her eyes upwards and, squinting against the shards of late afternoon sunlight that outlined the silhouette, glared up into its face. "Mr Darcy?"

Indeed, the master of Pemberley was home, and after a short-tempered skirmish with the willow branches that clung to him with the tenacity of a desperate debutante, he stood before her winded and soggy. His appearance was greeted enthusiastically by the spotted Great Dane, who leapt upon him with such exuberance that he nearly stumbled back into the drink.

"Down, Freddy! Down , I say!" The dog obeyed and sat back on its haunches, though it still gazed longingly up at Mr Darcy and whined petulantly. "Good girl."

Mr Darcy rewarded Freddy's compliance with an absent-minded pat on the head and returned his wide-eyed stare to Elizabeth. She was certain the same sort of disbelief was apparent in her own features as she beheld the generally reserved and fastidious gentleman in all his dishevelled glory. He stood before her wearing nothing but a linen shirt and riding breeches, both of which were plastered to his skin and, the top portion at least, shockingly transparent. Water ran down his face in rivulets, dripping from the drenched, unruly nest that was his hair, and splotches of mud were visible upon his face and clothing. Over one shoulder, a severed willow frond dangled. He was not nearly so formally attired as in his portrait yet still as strikingly handsome as she remembered. Perhaps even more so.

She flushed bright red as the implications of him finding her at his estate belatedly occurred to her. What must he think of me? To not only have the impudence to visit Pemberley without invitation, in flagrant disregard of our shared history, but then also to trespass upon his presence when he is so…so…

"Forgive me, I…" Elizabeth began, but then Mr Darcy slicked his hair back away from his face, and she promptly forgot what she was going to say. His hand remained tangled in his drenched curls as he stared at her, chest heaving, with those vivid grey eyes of his. Suddenly quite overcome by the heat of the day, she reached for the reticule dangling from her wrist only to discover it missing. Bother! I must have left it in the carriage. How inconvenient to be without my fan.

"Miss Bennet," he said again, blinking as if to clear his vision of water droplets—or perhaps her. "I-I…forgive me, I am sorry to greet you in such a way. Are you…" He shook his head, squinting his eyes shut for a moment before resuming his intense regard. After apparently collecting his wits, he enquired, "Are you here alone?"

"No," Elizabeth managed to reply, her voice rather strangled. "I am travelling with my aunt and uncle, and we came here for a tour. I was separated from our group and, in searching for them, stumbled across you…" She gestured at him, and he looked down his body, his ears reddening. "Like this."

"Of course," said Mr Darcy, lowering his arm back down to his side. It made a wet slapping sound when it collided with his soggy clothing, and Freddy, sensing an opportunity for attention, licked his palm. He distractedly obliged by scratching the dog's ears. "I have only just returned myself, and feeling rather hot and dusty after a long ride, I decided to cool off before going into the house. I apologise for greeting you in such a way." He seemed not to realise he had already said the last bit.

Elizabeth could not withhold a small laugh, though it came out as more of a nervous titter than her usual throaty chuckle. "I assure you that I understand completely, sir. There have been many times I have wished to take a dip in Longbourn's pond. Were I a man, perhaps I would indulge the inclination occasionally."

Mr Darcy visibly swallowed and asked, his voice hoarse, "You never have?"

Elizabeth impishly smirked as an instinctual impulse to tease him arose. "If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it. Is it not bad enough that I dirty my hems so thoroughly on my walks?"

Finally, Mr Darcy smiled. It was the same enigmatic curve of the lips seen in his portrait, and Elizabeth could feel her pulse, only recently resettled, quicken. "No matter how many inches deep in mud your own hems have become, I doubt you have ever greeted a guest like this." He spread his arms to remind her of his own bedraggled state.

"No, I cannot say that I have, though perhaps my mother deserves the credit for that. I was never very tidy in my appearance as a child and likely looked dishevelled more often than not, in spite of her attempts to keep me otherwise. Therefore, on days when company was expected, I was absolutely forbidden from stepping out of doors lest I return home looking…" She allowed her eyes to rove Mr Darcy's unkempt form a moment before remembering herself with a hot blush. "Well, I am sure you can imagine."

Mr Darcy's smile remained, though he seemed to have run out of words for their silly conversation.

After a stretch of silence, which was equal parts awkward and thrilling, Elizabeth entreated, "Sir, I beg your pardon, but might I have your assistance? I appear to be trapped by my own gown."

Mr Darcy's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I was so astonished that I was not thinking. Allow me to help you."

He trudged forwards, still up to his calves in the lake, with his arms outstretched towards her. Freddy barked once and splashed along at his side. He mounted the grassy slope upon which she had stumbled at his unexpected appearance and reached out to her, bare feet squishing in the soil beneath him.

Elizabeth accepted his outstretched hands gladly and allowed herself to be pulled into a standing position. He was so strong and she so light that the momentum thrust her forwards quickly, and she nearly fell into his chest, though he managed to steady her by the points of her elbows before she took another spill. She looked up, intending to both thank and apologise to him again, and found their faces mere inches from one another's. She could feel the soft puffs of his breath against her cheeks and sensed them noticeably quicken.

"Miss Bennet, I?— "

Whatever Mr Darcy was about to say was cut short by a sudden barrage of water droplets. Freddy had apparently determined it the appropriate time to shake herself dry, regardless of whoever happened to be in range. The pair of them ineffectually shielded their faces from the spray, Elizabeth laughing at the absurdity and Mr Darcy scolding, "Freddy, no! Bad dog!"

Freddy halted at her master's command and peered up at them, all innocence, with her head tilted inquisitively. Elizabeth could not but laugh again at the saucy creature. "Your dog is very well trained, sir."

Mr Darcy, his tone far drier than his person, replied, "Quite."

"Lizzy!"

Elizabeth turned her head to see her aunt, uncle, and Mrs Reynolds coming towards them across the lawn. Behindhand in realising that she was all but ensconced in the improperly dressed Mr Darcy's embrace, she hurriedly stepped backwards and away from him. Should I pretend that I suddenly swooned?

"We have been looking for you everywhere, Lizzy." Mrs Gardiner addressed Elizabeth, but her gaze skirted up and down the length of their sodden host. Whether this was related to the obvious disarray of his attire or finding her niece in his arms, Elizabeth could not say for certain, though it was reasonable to conclude a healthy measure of both. Her uncle, standing just behind his wife, was largely stoic but sported a concerned wrinkle betwixt his eyes.

Mr Darcy fidgeted under their scrutiny, his aspect rigid. The Gardiners would never attempt to insist upon a marriage to an apparent stranger over so small an infraction, but she supposed Mr Darcy could not know that. I cannot blame him for his apprehension , thought Elizabeth with chagrin. I must be the last woman he would ever wish to marry !

"When did you become separated, my dear?" asked Mrs Gardiner, still entranced by Mr Darcy and his disordered magnificence.

"While we were in the gallery. I made my way out of doors and was searching for you when there was, ah, a bit of a mishap. Mr Darcy was kind enough to assist me to my feet, which was when you found me."

"Mr Darcy?" repeated Mr Gardiner, his eyes darting back to where the master of the estate dripped, a puddle slowly forming about his bare feet. Mrs Gardiner's startled gaze was likewise drawn to their host. I suppose he is presently less august than they were expecting.

Mr Darcy seemed to recollect his dignity and straightened himself into a more correct posture. But for his muddy attire, he was as formal as she recalled him from their previous encounters. "Forgive my manners. Miss Bennet, would you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?"

"Indeed, sir." Biting back a resigned smile at the absurdity of the moment, Elizabeth performed the proper introductions. She knew not how the gentleman would feel upon learning the status of his unexpected guests, but there was no helping it, and she would not be ashamed of her beloved relations. He was perfectly aware of her connexions to trade, and she rather doubted that his opinion of her could sink any lower than it currently was.

Against her expectations, Mr Darcy bowed to the couple and spoke without the hauteur she was accustomed to. On the contrary, he was all ease and friendliness at being admitted to the acquaintance of a tradesman and his wife. "Mr and Mrs Gardiner, welcome to Pemberley. I trust you have been enjoying your tour?"

Mrs Gardiner responded for the couple. "Yes, the house is impressive and the grounds entirely delightful. We had heard that you were away and did not intend to trespass on your"—she again looked him up and down, an amused smile trembling on her lips—"privacy."

Mr Darcy glanced down at himself, and his patrician features flickered into what might have been a grimace. It was hard to say, for the expression was there and gone in a blink. "Ahem, yes, as I was just explaining to Miss Bennet, I have only recently arrived and decided to cool off in the lake, not realising that I had guests. The rest of my party," he continued, directing his speech back to Elizabeth, "will arrive tomorrow. As a few of them—Mr Bingley and his sisters—can claim an acquaintance with you, I hope you will still be in the area."

"I believe so, sir. My aunt spent her youth in Lambton, and we intend to stay some days to revisit some of her old haunts." She flinched at her choice of words; haunts , indeed!

Mr and Mrs Gardiner exchanged a look, though Elizabeth could not tell whether they were laughing at her accidental joke or wondering over the scene they had encountered between her and the soaking wet Mr Darcy. Elizabeth was likely to hear something of both later when they returned to the inn.

"Excellent," was Mr Darcy's immediate reply, followed more quietly, almost shyly, by, "I hope I may introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay?"

To say Elizabeth was nonplussed by this tentative request would have understated the matter. She never could have imagined that a gentleman she had rejected so harshly would not only wish to continue their association but also to advance one between her and his beloved sister. Her astonishment was so complete that she stumbled over her answer. "I—yes, of course."

Mr Darcy exhaled with a noticeable sibilance. Clearing his throat, he then said, "Very good. For now, I would be most honoured if you would all repair to the house for refreshments. I shall, of course, change my attire and join you shortly."

Elizabeth glanced down at her formerly pristine white frock, and only years of proper deportment prevented her from groaning aloud at how dirty she looked. Between falling upon the grassy bank at Mr Darcy's emergence from the lake and Freddy's cleansing shake, she was no more fit to be seen than their host. She shuddered to think of the state of her hair and face. There was no amount of dabbing that would repair her appearance; her gown would need to be laundered, and she herself required a good scrub.

Elizabeth caught Mrs Gardiner's attention and shook her head rapidly, vaguely indicating her untidy condition with a sweeping wave of her hand. To her enormous relief, her aunt understood this silent communication and said, "We thank you for the invitation, but we would not wish to impose."

"'Tis no imposition," replied Mr Darcy with surprising eagerness. His eyes found Elizabeth; he swallowed, then pressed, "Truly, I would be most pleased if you would remain. If your tour is not yet finished, I should be most happy to conduct it myself."

Elizabeth withheld a sigh at the necessity of being so forthright, but there was no other way to go about it. "I believe we must return to our lodgings so that I might repair my own appearance. I presently look as if I have walked to Netherfield and back again," she said with a self-deprecating chuckle, indicating her mud-spattered gown.

"I must say, I hardly noticed, given my own state." Mr Darcy looked pointedly down at his dripping attire, and Elizabeth could not repress her amusement. "You are far more presentable than I. Quite winsome, in fact. "

Taken aback by this quiet compliment, Elizabeth felt heat rush into her face.

Mr Darcy's gaze dropped to the ground, and he coughed into his fist. "I shall be happy to accommodate you in any way you require. Stay."

Glancing back at her aunt and uncle, who watched their back and forth with curiosity and palpable interest, she silently begged for their guidance. Mr Gardiner looked to his wife, who shrugged lightly as if to say it was up to Elizabeth's preference. Did she want to stay? Or would she rather crawl away and hide?

"Then…thank you, sir. We would be glad to partake of your hospitality."

Mr Darcy's shoulders slumped in what might have been relief before he stood tall again and addressed his housekeeper. "Mrs Reynolds, please see to Miss Bennet's needs and send to the kitchen for tea to be served in the blue saloon. I shall be down shortly to attend my guests."

Mrs Reynolds's expression flickered with surprise. "The blue saloon, sir?"

"Yes."

Mrs Reynolds bobbed a curtsey to her master as he returned his attention to Elizabeth and the Gardiners. He bowed to them and walked away, barefoot and sodden, with Freddy nipping at his heels. She could hear the squelching of the lawn as he took each step until he was nearly at the front portico.

Once the master and his dog were well out of earshot, Mr Gardiner leant close to Elizabeth to tease, "Well, Lizzy, I see you found what lurks in the lake."