Page 2 of Stranded at Michaelmas

Elizabeth laughed again, though her expression softened as she thought of the older couple. She had been only fourteen when they first arrived at Netherfield, but Lady Glenross had taken an immediate liking to her, and Elizabeth had quickly returned the affection.

Lord Glenross’s duties in Parliament had required him to remain within reasonable distance of London for much of the year, while his wife had little affection for Town. Netherfield had therefore proved an agreeable compromise, allowing Lady Glenross the country life she preferred while her husband could travel to London whenever his responsibilities required it.

“I was sorry when they left,” Elizabeth said. “Especially for the reason they left.”

“As was I. Though by then, I believe Lady Glenross wanted nothing more than to return home.”

Elizabeth nodded. “She told me so before they departed. Netherfield had been a pleasant residence, but it was not home. She wished to be in Scotland if⁠—”

She stopped as an old grief rose unexpectedly within her. She remembered the day Lord Glenross’s letter had arrived at Longbourn, informing her father of his wife’s passing. Her father had probably not understood the full extent of her attachment to the couple, though he had certainly known more of it than Mrs Bennet, and had quietly handed her the letter so that she might read it herself.

Her aunt reached across and touched her hand. “I remember.”

Lady Glenross’s health had already begun to fail before their departure, hastening their return after nearly four years in Hertfordshire. They had often been absent from Netherfield for short periods during their tenancy, but once they returned to Scotland, they never came back, although Lady Glenross did write to Elizabeth with some frequency until her death.

A sudden crack of thunder rattled the windows of the parlour, pulling Elizabeth abruptly from her memories.

“Well,” she said, turning towards the window, “it appears Uncle Gardiner’s concerns were justified after all. We may be glad that we stopped earlier rather than waiting.”

Her aunt rose and joined her. In the short time since they had entered the inn, the sky had darkened considerably. Rain had begun to strike the glass in large, heavy drops, and the wind bent the branches of the trees lining the road.

“I believe we shall be here somewhat longer than we intended,” Aunt Gardiner said. “I am glad that we reserved a room.”

Before Elizabeth could answer, the sound of wheels and horses could be heard above the rain. Both women looked towards the window as a travelling carriage swept hastily into the inn yard.

“Someone else appears to have had the same idea,” Elizabeth observed mildly.

The carriage had scarcely stopped before a gentleman stepped down, followed by a servant who immediately turned back to speak with the coachman. The gentleman, meanwhile, pulled his greatcoat more closely around himself and hurried towards the shelter of the inn.

Aunt Gardiner leaned closer to the window.

“How very curious.”

Elizabeth glanced at her. “What is?”

Her aunt did not answer immediately. Instead, she continued watching the tall gentleman as he disappeared beneath the overhang.

“Unless I am very much mistaken, I know that gentleman.”

This did not surprise Elizabeth; her uncle had a great number of friends and business acquaintances from all levels of society. The two watched the rain for a few minutes more before Mrs Gardiner declared her intention of speaking with the innkeeper about their room.

A few minutes later, Mrs Gardiner returned accompanied by the tall gentleman—or, at least, Elizabeth assumed it was the same man. The only evidence she had was his considerable height and the fact that her aunt had apparently recognised him.

“Elizabeth, allow me to introduce Mr Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire,” her aunt said. “Mr Darcy, this is my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Elizabeth curtseyed as the gentleman bowed.

“You know, Lizzy, that I was born in Lambton,” her aunt continued, with an animation Elizabeth rarely witnessed in her. “My father was rector there, and I often accompanied him upon his visits. I met Mr Darcy’s parents on many occasions and Mr Darcy himself when he was a boy. I confess I am rather surprised he recognised me after so many years.”

“You are not so greatly changed as you suppose, Mrs Gardiner,” Mr Darcy said solemnly, though Elizabeth thought she detected a hint of amusement in his tone.

Her aunt laughed. “That is very gallantly said, sir, though I suspect more than ten years ought to have altered me somewhat, just as they have you. I would never have recognised you as the boy I knew only slightly, though you are very much the image of your father.” She turned again to Elizabeth. “Lizzy is returning to her father’s estate near Meryton, and I am to remain with the family for a few days.”

“Meryton?” Mr Darcy repeated. “I have just come from there. My friend Charles Bingley has recently taken Netherfield Park. Are you acquainted with the estate?”

Elizabeth exchanged an amused glance with her aunt. “Very much so,” she answered. “I was close to the previous tenants and spent a great deal of time at Netherfield. My father’s estate, Longbourn, is one of its nearest neighbours, though the road between the two makes the distance appear greater than it is. Across the fields, they lie quite close.”

Mr Darcy regarded her with evident interest. “Then I suppose we may meet again. Bingley is to take possession before Michaelmas, and I have promised to return and remain with him for a time.”