Read Online Mr. Darcy's Dream by Elizabeth Aston - Free Book Online Page A

bring any of her clothes with her, saying she wouldn’t need them in the country, but I packed them up just the same.”
    Betsy led the way through the servants’ hall, where Sally was scrubbing the big table with vigour. She was singing as she worked, causing Miniver to shake her head and mutter, “Bumpkins!”
    Betsy and Miniver went along a stone-flagged passage, and then across a covered yard to the laundry. Besides the main washing and drying rooms there was a small room with a wooden table, several shelves, and a large stone sink. They shook out the gowns and set to work. Betsy hung up Louisa’s walking dress on one of the hooks on the wall, and attacked the muddy hems briskly with a brush, talking all the while. “I see no help for it with the silk dress except to wash it.”
    Miniver mixed up a potion which consisted of fuller’s earth and pearl ash. She added some lemon juice, squeezing it out from one of the fresh lemons which an under-gardener hadbrought into the kitchen from the orangery, and shaped the paste into little balls, which she then rolled to and fro over the stain. “It’s risky to wash a silk dress. And it’s a nuisance too, all that sponging, and if you don’t get it just right you end up with marks on it. Still,” she added, “with that dark blue colour, and the moiré pattern, it’s not going to show so much.”
    â€œIt’s a shame to see Miss Phoebe looking so poorly,” said Betsy. “I wondered when I heard that she wasn’t going to do the season at all this year, but as soon as I set eyes on her I thought, Lady Hawkins has her wits about her. Miss Phoebe doesn’t look strong enough to go for a walk along the street, let alone dancing the night away at balls and going on all those picnics and outings the young ladies do.”
    â€œMiss Louisa missing the season, too, that’s a pity, even after she’d done three before.”
    â€œShe was looking forward to it,” said Betsy, keeping her end up. “Not that I was, not with all the work, and all the noise and bustle and disagreeableness of being in London.”
    Miniver knew not to take what Betsy said at face value. Betsy was never content, wherever she was. When she was in the country she grumbled about the mud, the weather, the cows, and the slow-witted people. In town, it was uneven pavements, dirty streets, traffic, and all the visitors wandering up and down with their mouths open. When she had visited Bath the previous year, she had been very critical of the steep hills, the vulgar people, and the glaring heat of summer days.
    Miniver was very sure that Betsy was, in fact, mighty disappointed at Miss Louisa not doing the London season. With such a beautiful young lady, there must be the constant excitement not only of the parties, but of the expectation of an engagement. Someone with Miss Louisa’s looks, and her fortune, might hope to make a very good match, maybe even to marry alord. Even after three seasons—well, those three years hadn’t diminished her beauty, quite the contrary. But instead of being in London, and going to balls and parties, Miss Louisa would be here at Pemberley, with Miss Phoebe. It was all very nice for the young ladies when they were growing up, but not the best place to find a husband. She said as much, and got a sharp look in return from Betsy.
    â€œAs to that, it’s high time that your Miss Phoebe found herself a husband. This was to be her second season, after all, and it’s not as though the gentlemen didn’t admire her. But from what I hear, she’s not yet met the man whose affection she can return. She argues with them and makes fun of them and is very merry about them, and drives them away. It doesn’t do for a young lady to be too clever,” Betsy went on primly. “Gentlemen aren’t looking for clever wives.”
    â€œMaybe, maybe not,” said