With My Whole Heart Forever Page 7

  When he was just about to move towards them to find out where they belonged, he gasped as a dark-haired young lady burst from the rows, a tawny-brown dog at her heels.

  She lifted the smaller child and twirled her around, and she repeated the action with the others. After returning the third child to her feet, the lady raised her face to the sun, spread her arms and twirled herself around. The children mimicked the action.

  Their laughter was infectious. Darcy smiled.

  There was a mesmerizing quality about the lady, one which he did not understand. Her form was light and pleasing, but that was not the reason. While her behaviour was quite unladylike — which usually would cause him to scowl — she moved gracefully, elegantly. It suited her. It was as if she had been running like the wind all her life… as if light-hearted joy and innocent abandon were part of her very soul.

  The group joined hands, and all four rushed towards the corn rows. As they approached the plants, they released their hands and disappeared through the stalks.

  Darcy could not understand the sense of loss that suddenly weighed on his chest.

  He waited, staring at the tall green rows, trying to catch another glimpse of colour between them.

  She did not return.

  They did not return, he reminded himself.

  No… really, he did mean she. For it was not the children who captivated his attention. It was her.

  As he urged his horse forward, it occurred to him why he had not been able to tear his gaze away from her. There was no affectation in the lady’s behaviour, none of the pretention he had come to expect, and dislike, in polite society.

  She was real.

  A love of life, of nature, of the children, shone from her as brightly as if she were the sun itself.

  Who could she be, scampering across his land and through his fields? The cut of her gown informed him that she was a genteel lady. The children were not of the same class — most likely, they were the children of a farmer or one of his servants.

  Ah! This must be the lady staying with the Johnstons. A distant relative by marriage, who just happened to be in the area when the family came down with the fever.

  She had come to help.

  He felt the hint of a smile tease the corners of his lips. Perhaps, after meeting Mr. Johnston in the field to check on the grain, and a few discreet enquiries, he would stop by the farmhouse to see how the invalids were faring.

  CHAPTER 8

  “The carpenter, Tom Clarke, made these for me.” Miss Darcy held out a mess of wire, fashioned into the shape of a horse’s snout, positioned like the brim of a hat. The wire continued downward, covering the forehead and cheeks, leaving the eyes and mouth exposed.

  As the mistress passed one to her, Lucy was surprised it was so light in her hand. Where could she find more of this wire? Would the carpenter have some in his room? Did she dare go in there? What if he caught her?

  “Can you find a way to cover the larger one with the same black fabric that the tailor used for my brother’s cape? The smaller one shall be for mine.” Miss Darcy said.

  “Yes’m. I’ll have ’em ready in a couple o’ days.”

  “Wonderful! I would like to have time to decorate them myself.”

  Lucy took the masks, curtsied, and left the room.

  Returning to her workroom, Lucy looked over the tangle of wires. It was much more complicated than she thought at first glance. They were so intricate; even if she could find the wire Mr. Clarke had used, would she be able to make one like it by herself? She doubted it.

  Mr. Clarke had been kind to her when she had broken the leg of Miss Darcy’s table. Another time, when she had needed something to store all the ribbons and threads she used to dress up Miss Darcy’s hats, he’d made her that pretty box with all the drawers.

  But her sweetheart told her not to tell anyone what he was up to. It was supposed to be a surprise.

  She hated lying to Mr. Clarke, but she would have to. She would pretend she ruined the master’s mask and ask the carpenter to make another.

  Mr. Clarke was fond of her, she knew. She did not like playing with any man’s affections, but it would just be this one time. One more time. She would tell him she was afraid of getting sacked, squeeze out a few tears, and beg him not to tell anyone.

  That would do the trick.

  It had to! She could not fail her beau. Not again.

  She rubbed at her cheek. She had learned about that temper of his the hard way.

  ~ Friday, 23 August 1811

  Darcy caught himself staring out the window. Again. He shook his head. He could not seem to keep his mind on his work today.

  Actually, this had been going on ever since he glimpsed the nymph scampering through the cornfield with the Johnston children. So lighthearted and cheerful. Carefree.

  Her laughter floated through his dreams, beckoning him to join her for a run through the fields.

  Darcy shook his head. There he went again, thinking like a schoolboy, and meanwhile, he had not even met the lady.

  He looked down at the letter he had begun to write, then glanced at the clock. It had been at least a half an hour since he had started it, but he only had the salutation written. He should return to business.

  After meeting Johnston in the rye field yesterday, he had stopped at the farmhouse. The children he saw in the cornfield earlier were there helping their older sister collect the washing from the line, verifying his suspicion about whom the lady was that he saw with them. However, he had been told the lady herself had already gone out again.

  Miss Bennet was her name. From Longbourn Estate in Hertfordshire.

  The estate and the location, though he knew he had never been there, sounded oddly familiar, as did her last name. He could not place it, but he knew for certain it was not a name he had heard in London.

  Mrs. Gardiner informed him that Lizzy delighted in walking about his grounds. Lizzy… Elizabeth?

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  He and Ana had seen her walking out alone once. While he would not approve of his sister wandering the estate by herself, it was likely that, under the circumstances, the lady had no choice.

  Had Miss Bennet been at home when he called, he might have recommended certain areas of the estate for her exercise. Additionally, he had intended to suggest that she call at the house one day so that he could introduce his sister. Although Ana was steadily improving of late, she could use some of that love-of-life Miss Bennet displayed in the cornfield. Not quite as much as he had witnessed, but a small amount might be helpful. Helpful to both ladies, in fact.

  Ana would find a new friend, and Miss Bennet would no longer be forced to walk alone.

  But what if Miss Bennet was not a suitable acquaintance for Ana? With his sister in such a fragile state, the last thing she needed was to be put in a position to be manipulated by yet another inappropriate companion.

  He fidgeted with the signet ring he wore on the little finger of his left hand for several moments before coming to a conclusion.

  If he came across Miss Bennet, he would invite her to the house. He would remain during her visit so he could get to know her — for his sister’s sake, of course. If all went well, perhaps he would offer his protection during their rambles. That way, if she seemed to be using Ana as so many had in the past, he could put an end to it immediately.

  Yes, that would do nicely.

  CHAPTER 9

  ~ Monday, 2 September 1811

  It was a conundrum of sorts, one that Elizabeth understood well since she had been in the same situation many times with her sisters when they were younger.

  If she allowed the children to get dressed for the Harvest Ball too early, they would become bored and go out to play in their best suits and gowns — becoming filthy in the process. If they began dressing too late, the family would be tardy in arriving at Pemberley.

  Adding to the challenge, all needed to finish their chores before they dressed, for this ball would take place,
for the most part, during the day, since the tenant farmers and servants of Pemberley would have to rise early the next morning.

  Mrs. Johnston, Aunt Madeline, and Elizabeth calculated the time it should have taken to get ready. However, since the children were so excited about the ball, it took much longer than they had anticipated. Then Elizabeth went to dress. Another delay occurred when Elizabeth first came down.

  Her aunt laughed, “Oh! Your feet will be covered in splinters if you wear slippers. Quickly, go and change into your walking boots.”

  “Walking boots? To a ball?”

  “Yes. The ball will be held in the sheep shearing shed.”

  “A shed?” asked Elizabeth. “But, are not all the tenants and their families, and even some of the neighbours invited? How will everyone fit into a shed?”

  Uncle Edward chuckled. “The name is misleading. Hurry, and you will see it soon.”

  And so, by the time the Johnston family and their guests piled into the carts and headed toward Pemberley, the ball had already begun.

  There are so many brilliant disguises! Ana thought.

  Although general masks were available at the door for those who did not have one, most arrived already sporting ones they made themselves. Ana’s gaze searched through the costumed figures. The specific one she was looking for, Lizzy’s, was not among the crowd.

  Good! She and her brother were the only ones without masks at the moment, and she did not want Lizzy to know that she was a Darcy. At least, not just yet. Eventually, she would have to tell her. Most likely before the end of the ball.

  Ana turned to Fitzwilliam. “Perhaps it would be a good time to make your speech now, Brother, and then we can don our own masks?”

  He leaned towards her. “I confess, I usually make certain all the tenants have arrived before having the dancing begin, but with everyone wearing masks, I cannot tell whether some are still missing. I may never know who they are unless they remove them.”

  He rose from his chair and made his way to the head of the room. Ana followed. The crowd hushed except for the children’s laughter drifting in from another part of the shearing shed, where games were set up to keep the younger residents of the estate entertained.

  “Thank you for coming. Welcome to Pemberley’s Harvest Ball, our traditional gathering where we show our appreciation to our tenant families and staff for their hard work. I yield the floor to Mr. Hawkins, Pemberley’s vicar, who will thank our Lord for providing us with another bountiful harvest from His earth.”

  Mr. Hawkins said his prayer, and the music began.

  As was a tradition at Pemberley, the gentry never danced the first set, for the ball was held in honour of the working men and women of the estate. Although their regular staff had been involved in the preparations, even the house staff were guests. Ana and Mrs. Reynolds hired others to serve in their places today, except for Cook, who insisted on running her kitchens for the event and would enjoy two days off next week, instead.

  Pemberley’s butler opened the ball by dancing the first dance with Mrs. Reynolds. The tenants and servants lined up beside them.

  Ana was still tense when a maid helped her tie on her mask, but she began to feel better once her brother’s face was covered.

  She could not believe she managed to direct all identity-revealing activities to take place before Lizzy arrived! Now she could take pleasure in the festivities.

  Fitzwilliam said, “You, Mrs. Reynolds, and our staff did a wonderful job of organizing this, Dove.”

  “Thank you, Brother.”

  “Father always said Mother would be wound up tight with anxiety while planning the Harvest Ball, but once the first strand of music played, she was able to calm and enjoy herself.”

  “Really? I was just thinking something similar about myself.”

  He nodded. “I thought so. You look like our mother. I often see her in your behaviour, as well.” He took her hand and squeezed it, then laid it on his arm.

  A wide smile stretched across Ana’s face until the memory of how she shamed their family with her actions at Ramsgate crept into her mind.

  Would Mother have been ashamed that her daughter looked like her if she had known that Ana had almost humiliated their family by eloping?

  No! She must try to forgive herself, as Fitzwilliam asked her to do. She pushed her remorseful feelings aside.

  Feeling her brother stiffen, she wondered what could have caught his attention. She followed his line of sight.

  When Ana recognised the mask she helped Lizzy make, she forgot all about her brother’s reaction.

  The timing of Lizzy’s arrival was perfect! But Ana would have to be careful her brother did not see her talking to her new friend until later in the evening.

  As the Johnstons’ cart approached Pemberley from the lane leading in from the main road, Elizabeth was rendered speechless. She loved Longbourn but always thought Netherfield Park an even more ideal estate house. Both paled in comparison to this!

  The manor was not only exquisite, it was also absolutely enormous. The gardens on either side were breathtakingly lovely; the lake before it reflected the building flawlessly.

  All in all, she could not imagine a house more happily situated. She would love to peek inside, but she doubted she would be given that opportunity.

  Before reaching the house, the cart turned right. Goodness, there was another garden behind it — from the dirt road that ran alongside it, she could see many hedgerows, and if she was not mistaken, in the distance, there was a maze. A path that divided the garden in two ended in a broad set of steps that led down to a river.

  The road curved right again, heading towards several outbuildings. Uncle Edward pointed out the shearing shed, which was near the end of the row, the last being a massive stable. On the left side of the road was a sizable carriage house.

  The structure where the ball would be held was nothing like what she had envisioned when she had been told they were going to a shed. It was the second-largest outbuilding on the estate. Pemberley must have a sizeable sheep population.

  The Johnston family and their guests stepped down from the cart and made their way past the pens that Mr. Johnston explained would hold the sheep when the place was bustling with its intended use. He pointed to a long aisle of fencing that led to a small hatch-door in the outer wall, saying that was where the unshorn sheep entered the barn. Next to that was another door with a chute attached. Apparently, the shearers would slide the shorn sheep down the chute into the larger pen. The door-and-chute pairs repeated several times on this side of the long building.

  Uncle Edward added that when the pen was near full, herders would lead the shorn sheep out to a field and bring in another group to be sheared.

  The walls of the building were only waist high. Enormous shutters were now laying on the roof, providing sunlight and a cross-breeze to those indoors. She imagined it was designed so the shearing men would be more comfortable while they worked. Today, the guests at the ball would benefit.

  It all seemed quite efficient.

  Elizabeth stepped through the large pair of double-wide barn doors at one end of the shearing shed, which mirrored a set at the other end of the massive building. She looked about, stunned. The inside was entirely different than what she expected; in fact, there was little evidence of sheep ever having been here.

  The floor was swept clean and in good repair, though she could see why her aunt had been worried about splinters, for the wood was not polished. Each full-height wall section between the open panels held plain wall sconces. With all the natural light that flooded the enormous room, it was not likely they were frequently used, though she was sure they would need them this evening once the sun set. Perhaps during the shearing season, the men worked into the night.

  The place was decorated as nicely as a barn could be, with green garlands adorned with flowers draped across the open windows. Long tables fitted with many chairs lined the outskirts of the room, where some of the olde
r guests sat. She imagined everyone would eat here instead of removing to another chamber to sup as they would when a dance was held in a ballroom. To one side of the length of the building, the orchestra was already playing a lively reel. Many couples hopped and skipped down the centre of the long building.

  The oldest Johnston children ushered their younger siblings into a chamber that branched off to one side. Elizabeth peeked through the open door and saw adults leading several scores of children in a game.

  Elizabeth’s smile stretched wide across her face. “This is delightful,” she exclaimed.

  Mr. Johnston and Uncle Edward led those remaining to a table that was only half occupied by a family who were close friends of the Johnstons’. Upon introduction, the eldest son, who was a couple of years younger than Elizabeth, asked her to dance. She glanced at her aunt, who nodded. Since she was not acquainted with anyone else, she might as well accept. Besides, she doubted anyone here would report to her mother that she had danced with a farmer.

  During the set, she spotted Ana’s unicorn mask. She was sitting at a small table next to a man wearing a horse mask, just as Ana had said her brother would be wearing. Unsure whether she should seek out her friend while she sat with her brother, she hoped the younger girl would come to her soon.

  After the set, although those who had been sitting were still wearing their wraps, Elizabeth was glad they were near the open barn doors as a cool breeze wafted over her heated skin.

  The eldest Johnston boy, Bill, requested a more sedate set, and Elizabeth accepted. When they were finished, Bill escorted her to the refreshment table. After fetching her some punch, Bill became involved in a conversation with another farmer. Elizabeth took the opportunity to look for Ana, but her table was empty.

  “Are you having a nice time, Miss Butterfly?”

  Elizabeth turned around to find Ana standing behind her. “Oh, yes. It is such a lovely ball, Miss Unicorn,” Elizabeth said to her friend, following suit with the name. “But I feel a little out of place since I do not know many people. I am accustomed to knowing everyone at the balls at home. It is so good to see a friendly… eyes and chin,” Elizabeth answered, smiling, for those were the only parts of Ana’s face exposed by the mask.