Page 1

Chapter One

BY THE TIME they reached the gates of Pemberley, Elizabeth Bennet had heard so much in praise of its master that she began to pity him. Jane’s marriage had made Charles her brother-in-law, but his friend was still a stranger to her. No gentleman could possess all the virtues Charles and Caroline Bingley had divided between their descriptions. He must disappoint one of them, and Elizabeth privately hoped it would be Caroline.

“You will find the house very comfortable, Jane,” said Charles, leaning forward for another look through the carriage window. “Darcy particularly mentioned the south rooms. I believe he has had them prepared these three weeks.”

“Then I hope the beds have not grown tired of waiting for us.” Jane shifted against the small cushion Elizabeth had wedged behind her back. “I shall be very glad to lie down.”

Jane did not expect her confinement until November, but the long days of travel had tried her more than she would admit. Elizabeth had watched her ankles swell above her slippers and wished, too late to be useful, that they had traveled north a month sooner.

“You might have done so at the inn,” Caroline observed. “Had we remained another night, as I proposed, you would not now be so fatigued.”

Elizabeth reached for the cushion before it slipped. Caroline had objected to the inn’s situation, its servants, and the quality of the cream. Her present affection for it could only have been acquired upon leaving.

“Another night there would have obliged Charles to describe Pemberley over breakfast again,” Elizabeth said. “Jane has borne the journey heroically, but one must not try her beyond endurance.”

Charles laughed. “I have been a little tiresome.”

“Not at all,” said Jane.

“A great deal,” said Caroline.

“There! I have married into the kinder half of the party.” Charles took Jane’s hand and moved his own knee to make room for her feet. The simple attention softened Elizabeth’s impatience. Whatever she might think of his judgment in houses or friends, Charles seldom required instruction in loving her sister.

Beyond the open gates, the road turned through trees whose branches met high above the carriage. Elizabeth lowered the glass a little farther. The air smelled of leaves and damp earth, pleasantly cool after the closeness within, and through a break in the wood she glimpsed running water. Then the view opened.

For a moment, Elizabeth could only look.

Pemberley stood across a sweep of rising ground, its windows bright beneath the afternoon sun. Behind it the wooded hills climbed higher still. There was grandeur enough in the house to have satisfied Caroline, but Elizabeth’s attention went first to the river and the paths disappearing among the trees. She could walk here for weeks without exhausting them. After days of measuring her freedom by the distance between a carriage and an inn door, the prospect gave her such pleasure that she leaned forward beside Charles.

“Well?” Charles asked.

“You ought to have said more about the woods,” Elizabeth told him.

“I mentioned them twice.”

“Then you chose the wrong words.”

Jane smiled at Elizabeth, understanding perfectly. Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hand before drawing back to let Jane see the house.

Elizabeth had expected to find their host at the door. Mr. Darcy was already coming down the steps while a servant hurried toward the carriage. Charles called a greeting and reached for the door before the wheels had stopped.

“Do allow the man to draw up, Bingley,” Mr. Darcy called from the steps.

Once the carriage had stopped, Charles descended and hurried forward to shake his friend’s hand. Darcy returned the greeting, then stepped to the open door to assist Jane. He was younger than Elizabeth had imagined from Caroline’s accounts of his consequence. Tall, grave, and plainly accustomed to being obeyed, he gave their arrival his complete attention without appearing particularly glad of it.

“Mrs. Bingley. I hope the last stage was not too difficult.”

“Not difficult, sir. Merely rather long,” Jane replied.

Darcy offered his hand while Charles supported her other arm. Jane came down carefully, pausing upon the step, and Elizabeth could see that he noticed the hesitation. His manner grew even more deliberate.

“Your apartments are ready. Mrs. Reynolds will take you directly upstairs, and a tray can be brought whenever you wish it. I have ordered that you should not be troubled with company this evening.”

Elizabeth, halfway out behind Jane, looked at him sharply. He spoke kindly enough, but Jane had passed most of the journey being told when she ought to eat, rest, and feel unwell. She had borne it all with a patience Elizabeth could not have supplied for half an hour.

“Perhaps my sister would prefer to see her company before she is spared it.”

Mr. Darcy turned. His hand was still extended to help her down.