“How far is it from Pemberley?”
“About two days, I imagine.”
“I will journey there myself,” Elizabeth said, stoutly.
“You! Alone? You will do no such thing!” Mr. Darcy was horrified at the very idea of it.
“I will take Mary.”
He argued vehemently against it, saying that such a journey could hardly be safe.
“How could it not be safe? I will have the coachman and take two additional manservants as well. William, this quarrel is between your mother and myself, to resolve or not to resolve as we see fit.”
“I am a hindrance, then?” Mr. Darcy could not keep the outrage from his voice.
“Yes, frankly, you are. Oh, not because of anything you do, but simply because she is your mother. She can make you feel guilty – no, do not argue, you know it is true – and that guilt forces you to behave in a certain way. I know that my own mother can twist my feelings every which way.”
They had still not reached an agreement when it was time to go downstairs to the drawing room before dinner. The Colonel, Georgiana, Mary and Mrs. Annesley were already in the drawing room when the Darcys entered. The Colonel had performed the introductions, and a discussion about music was already underway. Georgiana’s eyes were a little swollen, mute testimony to her grief, but she was managing to hold up her end of the conversation. She and Mary agreed to play a duet after dinner.
Elizabeth took advantage of a momentary lull in the discussion to say, “I plan to travel to Cresston Hall to speak with Lady Anne.”
Georgiana gasped. “Yes! Oh, thank you, Lizzy!”
Mr. Darcy looked grim. “This is all very well, but she wishes to go by herself.”
Elizabeth said, quickly, “No, indeed; I said I would go with Mary.”
Looking at Darcy, the Colonel said, “Do you not wish to accompany her?”
Mr. Darcy replied, with some heat, “She does not want me there! She says this is a discussion to be held between the two principal parties, namely my mother and herself.”
Elizabeth added, “And Mary is a calm, rational woman who sees both sides of the issue; she will be the perfect moderator.”
The Colonel nodded. “I see your point. Surely, Darcy, with enough manservants in the party, what can be the issue?”
Mr. Darcy threw his hands up into the air. “Very well; I see that sentiment is against me here. But I will select the biggest, burliest footmen at Pemberley to accompany you!”
Elizabeth laughed. “I would expect no less! But listen, all of you – and Georgiana, particularly you – I am in no way guaranteeing that Lady Anne will return with me. I am willing, and have always been willing, for her to serve as my mentor in becoming the best possible mistress of the estate, but I will not cede my role to her. If she is not willing to abide by my requirements, then she shall remain at Cresston Hall.”
Everyone hastened to agree with her and to offer comments and suggestions as to how Lady Anne might be persuaded; Elizabeth listened to everyone, but kept her own counsel.
That night, as Kate prepared Elizabeth for bed, she said, “Are you concerned about your meeting with Lady Anne?”
“Concerned? No, not at all; I have the upper hand. If she cannot convince me that she is truly repentant, I will leave her at Cresston Hall. I cannot manage Pemberley if I am tripped up at every turn. But enough about Lady Anne! Kate, will you be happy here? Is your room adequate?”
Kate assured her mistress that she had never been more comfortable, and she was certain that Pemberley had been modeled after the Garden of Eden. They both thought – but did not say – that perhaps it was just as well that the snake had left the Garden.
Chapter Seventy-Five
November 1812
Mr. Darcy would not hear of Elizabeth setting off at once; she had just completed a four-day journey and should be made to rest first. Elizabeth complied, as she was grateful for his forbearance in the matter of traveling to Cresston Hall without him and she did not wish to provoke another argument.
This gave her time to acquaint Mary with the wonders of Pemberley, as well as to speak with her privately about Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mary refused to believe that the Colonel was interested in her in a romantic way, though Elizabeth insisted that his attentions had been too marked to be mistaken.
“I am not that sort of girl,” Mary insisted.
“What sort is that, Mary?”
