Eliza and Will

Chapter 20

"We're going where?" I ask, hours later in Charlotte's house.

"Rosings Park, which is an estate owned by Lady Catherine de Bourgh. There's a private charity afternoon tea being held there and the cafés given me two free tickets to go," she excitedly chants. My facial expression is blank in response as I try to process the information.

"Come on Eliza, you'll love it," she adds. "We can people watch and the house looks beautiful," she says, showing me the brochure.

"It'll be full of snobs," I remark but manage to look past that and get excited. "When is it?" I inquire.

"Sunday week. Dad can give us a lift to it. Now, let's start outfit planning!" She says and we both laugh.

~

"Oh..."

"...my goodness," Charlotte and I gasp, taking in the large house which could be a castle and grounds that lay ahead of us.

"Lets go!" We both exclaim at the same time, linking arms as we make our way towards the grass where the event is being held. Charlotte looks beautiful in a long grey dress and gold necklace, with her hair hanging in waves over her shoulders. Jane thankfully leant me her pink formal dress, after pinning the skirt up for me so it wouldn't be too long. It's one of those handy dresses which can be worn for day or night time. My hair is formed into a braided bun with strands hanging around my face.

We feel out of place as we sit amongst impeccably dressed, no doubt wealthy people, which is a bit intimidating but hilarious at the same time. After the delicious afternoon tea is finished, we are granted a tour of the gardens. Following that, we are left to explore areas of the house which are open to visitors for only this occasion at our own leisure.

"How amazing was that?" I sigh in contentment as we climb a grand staircase.

"I knew you'd like it!" Charlotte satisfactorily beams.

"What a gorgeous house. You know," I whisper, "I bet Darcy lives somewhere like this."

"We should try his house next," she jokes.

"No chance-" I stop mid sentence, having reached the top of the stairs and turned towards a long corridor. Walking in our direction is the very man himself we were just talking about and a bitter looking old woman on his arm.

"William," I surprisingly exhale, once they stand before us.

"Eliza," he mirrors my shocked expression, his voice a depth of emotion which I cannot pinpoint.