Page 90 of Roses from Pemberley
“I just wish you did not have to do all of this.”
“It isn’t much, really. I proceed to London, attend a wedding, then return here.”
*****
Half an hour later, they arrived at the crest of the hill and stepped forward toward the other end where the ground fell steeply away. Darcy turned to Elizabeth and saw a mixture of sadness and resignation in her eyes. She took his hand and led him towards a flat rock where they sat together looking eastward.
“I shall miss you,” she said, “even though you shall only be gone a few days.”
She was wearing her black mourning dress and had a darker blue cloak thrown over her shoulders. She removed her bonnet and turned to smile at him.
Her large brown eyes were more beautiful than he had ever seen. Perhaps it was the early morning, and the fact that they would not be together after he left that day, but he began to feel a burgeoning sorrow that he knew could only be mitigated when they were finally - and permanently - together. He thanked God again that he’d finally been accepted when he proposed to her at Rosings.
“And I shall miss you,” he responded, “more than I can say.”
She took his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder and, by tacit agreement, they looked towards the horizon and awaited the sunrise. He pressed his lips against the waves of her dark hair and inhaled deeply, revelling in her scent of lavender and roses. For the moment he thought of nothing but the present.
A few minutes later the first rays of the sun began to spill over the valley, casting a golden glow over the spring meadows. It became just a little warmer as the last of the mist burned off.
“Is this a place you often come to?” he asked her.
“I have been coming here since I was a child,” she replied with a smile. Then she suddenly stood up and added, “But come, I have something for us.”
She went to the other side of the rock and removed a large basket from behind it. She also took out a blanket which had been placed on top of it and began to spread it over the rock.
“A picnic?” he asked with delight.
“Indeed. For if you must leave, then you shall at least have something good to remember me by. I had Cook pack this then had Mr. Hill bring it up here earlier today.
She removed some fresh bread and cheese from the basket, as well as muffins, various tarts, fresh fruits and a jug, which she told him contained tea. Then they sat opposite one another and began to eat. She spoke of her childhood and told him how she often came here to escape when Longbourn became too chaotic. He told her of a similar prospect at Pemberley that he often rode to in his youth, both with his mother and his father, and most recently alone.
Once they were done eating, Elizabeth removed one final object from the pocket of her dress and handed it to him. He saw that it was a book.
“For your reading pleasure,” she said, “as you make your way to London today.
He got up on his knees and leaned over to kiss her. He felt her hand around his neck and savoured the taste of strawberries on her lips. She pulled back and tilted her head towards the book. “It is a book of poems by Thomas Moore.”
He smiled. “I have heard of him but have not yet read his works.”
“Open it.”
The book fell open to reveal the stem of a dried rose, its petals flattened against the pages of the book. He looked questioningly at her and wondered…
“Yes,” she said, answering his unasked question, “that is Fitzy’s Little Rainbow, which you picked at Rosings…but whose seedlings came from Pemberley.”
He stared for a moment at the rose then turned his gaze back to Elizabeth. Impulsively he pulled her towards him and eventually settled her on his lap, his legs now hanging over the side of the rock. He buried his face in her hair then began to kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her temple. And then her lips. He felt her arms go around him and they remained on the rock for sometime, kissing.
He had seen that she was sad, over the past few days, and he supposed it was because of his impending departure. But now it was he who felt the sadness keenly, and wondered how he would survive being apart from her - both when he went to London and later when he left for Pemberley.
Eventually she pulled back and they both stared at the sky, which continued to brighten.
“The day grows late,” she said eventually.
He nodded, still not letting go.
“We must return to Longbourn,” she continued, “and you must begin your journey.”
He nodded again, but this time allowed her to slip off his lap. She gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek then began to repack the basket.
