Page 78 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“Do they succeed?” My aunt was fascinated.
“Wonderfully. Our education is most thorough. There was skepticism from the parents at first, either over the benefit of schooling, or because it took the children away from helping at home. But that has been overcome. We teach four days a week now, which seems a good balance.”
“You must have a generous benefactor,” I said and found I was tense, anticipating the answer.
“It is Mr. Darcy’s program. Young Mr. Darcy, of course. After he became master of Pemberley, he purchased this building and began seeking instructors. He visits often to assess our progress. I think he is a most remarkable man.” She colored prettily. “I had the honor to be chosen for this position by Mr. Darcy himself.”
I snorted, and my aunt looked at me in surprise. But surely this woman should not be unashamedly admiring her employer? Especially when she was so… pleasantly dressed. And taller than me.
My aunt and I thanked her, and we headed back to the inn.
I remembered the dinner at Netherfield. I had said the little housemaid should learn to read, and Mr. Darcy mentioned educating the poor in the north. He gave no hint that he supported it himself, or that he had already opened a school.
“You are pensive,” observed my aunt.
I nodded. I was reviewing the astounding attacks I had thrown at Mr. Darcy over his selfish wealth.
On the way, we passed a skinny, sandy-haired man in slovenly working clothes. He ducked his head as we passed, but I felt I hadseen him before.
As I climbed the stairs,I realized I might be worrying over nothing. I asked the chambermaid if the Darcys were at home.
She shook her head. “Afraid not, ma’am. Mr. Darcy has been away for some time, and his sister, too. We’d hear if they was back. There’s always a great fuss from the staff when they arrive, and orders for the kitchens.”
I bit my lip to hide my relief. I could visit the mysterious lake in safety. And, with guilty satisfaction, I discovered I had tremendous suppressed curiosity about Pemberley itself.
Over dinner, and with a proper air of indifference, I mentioned that I did not object to visiting Pemberley after all.
31
PEMBERLEY
“When will we reach the park?”I asked as the carriage wheels hummed over the road.
The early morning sun shone on fresh vistas at every curve. Each perspective was more magnificent than the last—great old oaks, stands of silver birch, rowan snowing white blooms.
But this was forest. I had expected expansive grounds. There was no sign of the formality that had marked Rosings Park.
“Pemberley does not have a park in the common sense,” my aunt said. “There are gardens on the mansion grounds, but the transition is subtle. The Darcys have always shepherded the woods, not conquered them.”
Before we departed, I had closed my eyes and spun, then marked the direction against the distant peaks.
Now, I leaned out the open carriage window. The breeze swirled loose hairs while I studied the horizon. There was no question. We were heading exactly where I had pointed.
I fell back into my seat with confused emotions. Excitement, because a cure for Jane might be ahead. Worry, because I had no idea what that meant.
And my stomach was fluttering. Since we arrived in Lambton, people kept mentioning Mr. Darcy, usually in tones of admiration and affection. It was exceedingly disconcerting.
The coach climbed. Around us, spectacular sweeps of meadow and forest emerged, shining with spring green.
“Is it not beautiful!” My aunt and uncle were in raptures. I was too distracted to answer.
We crested the hill, and Pemberley House became visible across a valley.
I managed two words at last. “My goodness.”
The house crowned a rise before the final peak of the hill. Silvery stone walls soared, free of ostentatious columns and ornaments, the granite hues warmed by copper and sunlit quartz. The central manse was three lofty stories, each a row of shining windows, the highest arched. To each side, the building extended shallower wings shaded by towering trees.
The grounds were the opposite of Rosings’s felt-cropped lawns and squared hedges. The house nestled in a meadow dotted with flowers. The front gardens began gradually, sculpting the hillside below into riotous color. Craggy boulders and ridges stood untouched, silver bedrock kin to the majestic walls.
