But Fitzwilliam had gained his feet swiftly. “Come, George, we have imposed long enough on Miss Bennet and should return. Lord Belmont will be awaiting us.”
The reminder shocked George to awareness. “Lord Belmont! Dash it all, I had forgot.” He turned to me, the bright feeling in his eyes undimmed. “I will call on you at the first opportunity, Lizzy. We have years to catch up on.”
His gaze held that special light reserved for me alone in days of old—still able to turn my bones to water all these years later. Yet as I curtsied my farewells, my eyes followed the elder Darcy’s retreating figure. What inner secrets motivated such deep currents behind that inscrutable facade? My heart whispered I had only glimpsed the surface of hidden depths yet to be plumbed.
Eleven
Darcy
Ipacedthelengthof Pemberley’s cavernous entrance hall, boots echoing sharply against marble tiles. At the mullioned window, George craned his neck, peering eagerly down the drive.
“I can see the dust from the carriages just there past the great oak!” He bobbed excitedly on his heels. “Darcy, did I brush all the horsehair from my coat this morning?”
I waved my hand, my pulse already quickening in response to his nerves. “For the third time, yes, you are perfectly presentable.” Under normal circumstances, I would tease him for showing such uncharacteristic uncertainty before a country visitor. But today, tension thrummed through my frame. Soon, we would stand before George’s formidable future father-in-law, tacitly presenting my scatterbrained brother as suitable enough to share guardianship of Lady Lucilla’s future.
And the sizeable fortune she would bring to the marriage, I reminded myself grimly. Ever the pragmatist, Lord Belmont was unlikely to be swayed solely by the couple’s mutual affection. No, George must prove himself a competent steward and guardian as well if he hoped to truly keep Belmont's approval as Lucilla’s husband. I only prayed he was up to the challenge.
“Here they come,” George muttered needlessly. I could already make out the two carriages rounding the curving lane, plumed horses tossing glossy heads, and George’s curricle stood ready in the drive, harnessed to his fleet bays to greet them. No turning back now.
I straightened my shoulders and forced an attitude of calm assurance as the first vehicle pulled before us. Lord Matlock called the matched grays to a prancing halt and turned to hand Lady Belmont down. Lord and Lady Matlock would lend us much-needed gentility and refinement in place of the absent mistress at Pemberley. At least Lady Lucilla need not want for noble companionship.
Lord Belmont descended last, keen grey eyes sweeping his surroundings as if determining whether the reality matched prior reports. I stepped forward, schooling my features to impassivity beneath that penetrating assessment.
“Lord and Lady Belmont, welcome to Pemberley.” I bowed correctly over her ladyship’s deferentially extended hand. A faint smile hovered about Lord Belmont’s mouth as if secretly amused by such a stilted ceremony between neighbors.
“Come now, we stand on no formality today,” he pronounced, shaking my hand heartily. “I desired an intimate glimpse into my prospective new son’s world.” His sharp eyes glinted with private humor that did nothing to settle my nerves.
Before I could frame a coherent response, Lady Matlock bustled forward, graciously shepherding all within doors to take refreshment and allow the gentlemen time alone to discuss’ business.’ I breathed a silent prayer of thanks for her social deftness. Though what ‘business’ Lord Belmont anticipated discussing with a mere backcountry landowner and tradesman remained to be seen.
Barely half an hour later, the parties sorted themselves back into the readied carriages. I handed Lord Belmont up into my phaeton’s rear seat, relieved when he made no demur. Whatever trial or assessment awaited, best to meet it head on.
I flicked the reins, and the high-stepping greys surged smoothly forward. Behind me, I heard George’s voice lifted merrily as he handed Lady Lucilla into their private vehicle. At least one of us rode toward his heart’s desire carefree.
“The prospect is everything Matlock claimed.” Lord Belmont eyed the distant hills appreciatively. “Well situated, Darcy. Your family chose with care.”
I could not prevent foolish pride kindling at his approbation. “Four generations have called Pemberley home. My great-grandfather built the current manor.”
His lordship made an interested noise, still surveying the passing scenery. “He chose with an eye to prosperity. The mill below—also established by your family line?”
“My father erected that, yes.” I hesitated. “Would it please you to take the road nearer the buildings, my lord?” If discussion was inevitable, best invite it on my terms.
Shrewd eyes glinted a silent salute at my transparent maneuver. “By all means. I am interested to see the workings of this woolen trade that featured so prominently in that letter of yours.” He settled back as I redirected our course, hints of a smile still playing about his mouth.
I flicked the reins, guiding the carriage toward the distant mill. Its tall chimneys spewed thin trails of smoke that vanished into the clear summer sky. Beside me, Lord Belmont observed its approach through narrowed eyes.
“Impressive structures,” he remarked. “Welsh steel beams unless miss my guess?”
“Just so.” I allowed myself a glimmer of pride. “My father wished to build both to last and to allow ease of modernization when needed.”
His lordship harrumphed, twitching his mustache. “Let us see if the reality matches your optimistic vision, then.” He fixed me with an arch look. “I have heard you boast of maintaining high standards for workers within. Paying them fair wages and the like.”
I bristled at his skeptical tone. “I make no boast, my lord. I hold the health and safety of my laborers as accountability before God.”
We drew up before the formidable brick edifice, and Belmont eyed me askance. “Pretty ideals. Tell me, do you limit your workers’ hours or employ children under the age of twelve? What of these controls you propose, to limit the smoke I see belching into the heavens?”
My grip tightened on the ribbons. “At present, only safety measures have been attended to—those which prevent exhaustion and injury, particularly to children. Other plans are yet to be implemented. But I aim to transition once feasible. I wish to lead by example. If more mill owners provided sanitary housing, fair wages—”
He cut me off with an abrupt slice of his hand. “Enough, you prove my point! What real experience have you to guide legislation? This is not how you earn your livelihood. You are a hobbyist, Darcy. You play at running mills and factories with none of the pressures of actual commerce.”
