An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  Lady Catherine continued to appear an unnatural colour, and he glanced to his uncle, who did not appear concerned at all by her complexion or the fact that at that moment, she again held her breath.

  “The staff,” began his uncle, “has unloaded our trunks and by now, brought them upstairs. Anne’s body will be delivered later this evening, and she will be laid out in the blue drawing room until the funeral on the morrow. I am expecting your vicar, Mr. Thacker, to join us for dinner, so we can finalise the arrangements for the service.” He cleared his throat and gave a nervous tug to the bottom of his jacket as if it required straightening.

  “It pains me to say this Catherine, but we have tried for years to have you a part of the family, and you have spurned us at every effort. It has come to a point where Darcy now owns Rosings, and due to your actions, you are no longer welcome in this home.”

  “You were acknowledged as my brother when your title made it necessary,” spat Lady Catherine.

  “I have been aware of your feelings for some time, dear sister. Your spite and unwillingness to recognise your family has always saddened me. I believe the sole reason you accepted my sister Anne as you did was due to her marriage to George Darcy. You took notice of Pemberley and the wealth of the Darcy name and used your own sister as a means to further whatever social ambition you possessed.”

  Lady Catherine sniffed and brushed some fluff from her sleeve. “I saw potential. I hoped for a male heir, but there were of course, no guarantees. Just as there are none in regards to this child.”

  She attempted to point around him to Elizabeth, but Darcy moved each time, so his wife was always shielded.

  “So, you befriended my Anne in the hopes of betrothing a child of yours to a Darcy heir.” The dowager’s ire was evident in her eyes as she stepped towards her husband’s eldest child.

  “My son could have married Anne’s daughter.” She gave a haughty sniff. “It still would have been a marvellous match. “Without an heir, Pemberley could pass to their first-born son.”

  “Except for the fact that Pemberley is entailed.”

  Lady Catherine’s eyes darted back to Darcy and narrowed. “George never mentioned an entailment.”

  He was rueful, yet chuckled as he shook his head. “No, my father is rather secretive regarding his business affairs and Pemberley, and shares his business with no one but his solicitor. If I had not been born, Pemberley would not have been held for a son from Georgiana.”

  His uncle approached his sister while she was calm. “Nothing will change, Catherine. Despite any blustering and bellowing you do, Rosings will still be the property of Fitzwilliam Darcy.” She huffed, but did not begin ranting or raving. “Anne wanted it to be this way, and so it is.”

  “I wish you had seen her face when my wife told her of our child,” said Darcy with caution. “Her smile was the widest I had ever seen. The thought of a new heir to this house brought life to her for a short time, and she held on for longer than we ever thought possible.”

  “Anne was too soft-hearted.” Her voice was cold, but a sadness appeared in Lady Catherine’s eyes that shocked him. Could she have had some distorted sense of love for Anne? He searched for that hint once more, but the emotion had since disappeared.

  “Anne had compassion,” his grandmother interjected. “She wished to find happiness on her own terms, but knew you would never allow it. In the end, it is what drove her from you. You can blame us for your misfortunes, if you like, but the sole person to blame is yourself.”

  “I do not have to listen to this idiocy one moment longer!” Lady Catherine’s voice elevated as she spoke, and she began to search the room for someone to come to her aid. When she realised no servants were about, she pointed towards the door. “You shall see yourselves out! I take no leave of you! You do not deserve such condescension!”

  She strode straight towards Darcy, and he sprang to the side, keeping Elizabeth behind him until after she passed. He then followed her until she reached the two footmen, who blocked the foot of the stairs.

  She was resolute, and not at all polite. “You will remove yourselves at once!”

  The smaller of the two men flinched, but stood fast as Darcy and Uncle Henry came to address her.

  “Your belongings have been moved to the dower house, and as soon as your maid returns from wherever Mrs. Langton has sent her, she will join you. One of the estate carriages should be waiting in front of the house for your use. We bid you a good day madam.”

  “I shall not leave Rosings! This is my home!”

  “You do not have a choice. You can depart Rosings on your own, or I can have these two men escort you to your carriage.” Higgs entered the room, followed by two additional servants, which ensured enough men were present to remove her.

  Lady Catherine espied them and gave a great huff. “I have never been thus treated! I will tell all of society. You will be spurned for what you have done—for your lack of feeling!”

  “I beg to differ,” disagreed Aunt Elinor. “I find it more believable that our nephew will be applauded for his actions.”

  One of the footmen placed a hand on Lady Catherine’s elbow as his other arm stretched before him, beckoning her forward. She did not move, but instead, whipped her arm away from his touch. “How dare you place a hand on me!”

  Uncle Henry’s voice remained calm. “They will all touch you if you do not remove yourself from this house at once.” Two more men stepped forward and she began to stride in the direction of the entry.

  She did not fight, but continued to screech as the servants trailed behind her. “I will carry my point! You will pay for what you have done!”

  Upon reaching the carriage, Uncle Henry stepped forward. “Your settlement money will be dispersed through Darcy; I would not attempt anything against him. He could make your life a misery if he wished.”

  Her face was pinched as she climbed into the plush interior. The walking stick Richard had confiscated was placed on the seat opposite, the door closed, and the driver given leave to proceed. The two of them then stood on the steps and watched until the horses turned the corner.

  “Well,” commented Uncle Henry with a smile. “That was easier than I expected.”

  “You thought it easy?”

  “When you have known Catherine for as long as I have, any argument which ends with her departure in under an hour is considered painless.” The men laughed as his uncle gave him a slap on the back. “Shall we go inside? We have the ladies awaiting us.”

  “Huntley did not open his mouth once during all of this.”

  His uncle guffawed. “Have you never known that he is terrified of Catherine?”

  Darcy chuckled and shook his head. “He has never mentioned anything of the sort to me.”

  Uncle Henry beamed as he enlightened Darcy about his cousin’s foible. “She gave him nightmares as a child, and he still would rather avoid her if given a choice.”

  “Then let us pray you outlive your sister.”

  “Indeed!” His uncle snickered as they returned inside.

  Elizabeth could not explain the foreboding feeling that they had not heard the last of Lady Catherine, but upon mention of her suspicion, the dowager and Aunt Elinor revealed they were of the same opinion, which was not too much of a surprise.

  Based on her limited knowledge of Lady Catherine, it was improbable for the termagant, as Richard called her, to concede with such apparent ease; nevertheless, she was proud of Fitzwilliam for remaining steadfast and not surrendering to her arguments.

  Once Lady Catherine had been shown the door, their party all adjourned to their rooms to refresh themselves, which gave Elizabeth a chance to see more of the house. The décor was gaudy and useless. Large, dark tapestries adorned most of the walls paired with heavy dark stained wood and upholstery. A fleeting hope that perhaps their chambers were not as dreadful as the remainder of Rosings passed when she entered, and a disappointed sigh rose from deep within her.

  “Do yo
u find nothing attractive about Rosings?”

  She chuckled at her husband’s perceptiveness and shook her head.

  “I am certain that once it is redecorated, it will be a beautiful home.” He scanned the room as he ran his hand along the mantel. “But it will be quite an undertaking, one I assumed we would begin while we are here.”

  Her vision was drawn to a portrait of a beady-eyed man over the fireplace and then back to her husband. “You are in earnest? It could take years to overhaul this house!”

  “Why do we not begin with the removal of that painting?” He stepped closer to the mantel to glance at the nameplate beneath. “I do not believe Mr. Jonas Preston de Bourgh has the face for a bedchamber.”

  She covered her mouth as she giggled. “I would not want him to watch whilst we sleep.”

  “Whilst we sleep?” He took her hand and pulled her into his embrace. “Him spying on our slumber is the least of my concerns.” His head dipped to her neck and his lips brushed against the sensitive skin, causing gooseflesh to ripple across the back of her neck and shoulders. “I love it when you do that.”

  “Do what?” Her voice was breathy and soft to her own ears. He drew back with a broad grin.

  “I see your shiver and those little bumps break out across your skin when I touch my lips there. I rarely close my eyes anymore because I do not want to miss it.” A knock at the door brought an immediate frown to his face, and she laughed. “Why do you make sport of my disappointment?”

  “You remind me of a little boy when you wear that expression. I fully expect one of our children to don that look during a scolding one day.”

  He beamed and placed his hand over her increasing belly. “I would rather see your pout cross her lips.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip and grinned. “I suppose we shall see, but in the meantime, Hattie is waiting.” Darcy began to depart as she opened the door to reveal Hattie with a jug of water.

  “I have your water to be cleanin’ up with, ma’am. I can redo your hair if you like. I know a long trip in a carriage can take its toll…”

  Fitzwilliam had paused by the door, and interrupted before she could continue. “I believe Mrs Darcy’s hair is just as handsome as it was after you styled it this morning.” Hattie flustered and stuttered her thanks as he glanced back to Elizabeth. “Shall I return in a half-hour?”

  “I will be waiting,” she said as he disappeared through the door.

  A basin of warm water and a fresh gown from Hattie did much to restore her humour. The dust from the road had been as much a cloud over their arrival as had the confrontation with Lady Catherine. As her maid finished her hair, Elizabeth stroked a hand over her abdomen and smiled.

  “I’d imagine the little one has been movin’ a great deal.” Hattie placed a hairpin as she watched at Elizabeth in the mirror.

  “More and more every day. He is very persistent, just like his father.”

  Hattie chuckled as she surveyed her work. “If you will forgive me for sayin’, not so unlike his mother.”

  She gasped in indignation. “Hattie!”

  “I may be no more than a mite older than Miss Lucas, but I remember when you were born. And I remember the wail you let out when Mr. Trevor christened you.” They both began to giggle as Hattie placed her last pin. “Your poor mama was beside herself tryin’ to calm you down, but your father just laughed. And when the service was over, he took you for a walk around the chapel.”

  “Did he?” Her mother had told her many times about her tantrum during her christening, but never her father’s part.

  “Indeed he did. I remember him speaking to you as he pointed out birds and different flowers. I recall my mama being very impressed with Mr. Bennet that day.”

  Hattie glanced for loose pins and then touched Elizabeth’s shoulder as she did when she was finished. She then began to tidy the dressing table, placing the box of hairpins in a drawer.

  “Hattie?” Her maid glanced up with a questioning expression. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome, Mrs. Darcy.”

  She gave a chuckle. “Mrs. Darcy.”

  A confused look crossed Hattie’s face and Elizabeth smiled. “Can you imagine if my mother heard me addressed by such a name?” She picked up her handkerchief and clasped it to her chest.

  “Ooooh, Mrs. Darcy! How well that sounds!”

  “How well it sounds indeed,” came a deep voice from the door. Hattie curtsied, grabbed Elizabeth’s travel gown, and departed with haste to the dressing room.

  “Are you accustomed to entering a lady’s bedchamber without knocking?” She offered a playful arch of her eyebrow over her shoulder, and he answered her gesture with a laugh.

  “Only when I am particularly acquainted with the lady.”

  She turned to face him, but could not resist the temptation of being impertinent. “And are you particularly acquainted with many ladies?”

  He extended a hand to pull her into his arms. “Just one.”

  She placed her hands upon his chest and ran a finger along the edge of his lapel. “Just one? She must be very special.”

  “She is unique. She challenges me with her wit, she teases me incessantly, and her love has made me the happiest man on earth.”

  Elizabeth scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I do not know how I could ever do all of those things, Fitzwilliam. I believe you exaggerate my accomplishments, and you should be aware excessive flattery will get you nowhere.”

  He chuckled and touched his lips to her forehead. “We should go meet with Mrs. Langton and Higgs before it is too close to dinner.”

  She groaned and wrapped her arms around his torso. “I suppose we should. Is it terrible I wish to order a tray and spend the evening in our chambers—once we rid ourselves of Mr. de Bourgh, of course.”

  Fitzwilliam smiled and brushed his lips against hers once more before he offered her his arm. “I desire the same, my love, but we must take care of the staff first.”

  Elizabeth took his arm and sighed. “I know you are correct. I just do not relish this meeting.”

  “Neither do I,” he replied as they departed through the doorway.

  Elizabeth closed the door behind her and leaned all her weight against the solid oak panel. “Thank you for having us retire early.”

  “Our family understands if you are tired. You should not push yourself until you become so fatigued. Aunt Elinor and Grandmamma are here to help you, if you allow it.” She exhaled with exhaustion and turned, so he could unfasten her gown.

  “You do not wish to wait on Hattie?”

  “I am exhausted and content to sleep in my chemise. I do not require Hattie for a simple disrobing.”

  When she had removed the garment, Elizabeth placed it on a chair. Her husband then helped her with her petticoats and corset while she removed the pins from her hair. As soon as she was clad in her chemise, she kicked off her slippers, and climbed into the bed, where she settled on her side.

  “My love, you are still wearing your stockings.”

  “They will come off while I sleep,” she mumbled, as the bedclothes were peeled back from her body.

  She did not attempt to discover what he was doing since she was certain what he was about, and was soon proven correct when her husband’s strong hands untied the delicate ribbon on the top leg. His agile fingers stroked down her knee and calf as he removed the stocking, tossed it away, and began to massage her foot from heel to toe.

  “Ooooh.” He chuckled at her low groan. “That feels wonderful.”

  When he stopped for a moment, she glanced up as he shed his topcoat and waistcoat. His cuff buttons clinked into a cut glass dish on the side table, and he began the same process with her garter on her other leg. Fitzwilliam had just begun to rub her foot as he had the other when a loud knock interrupted them.

  He placed a soft kiss in her hair. “Give me a moment.”

  She rolled over as he cracked the door open enough to see who was there. “I am sorry for disturbing you,
sir,” came the voice of Higgs. “But Lady Catherine is outside and is insistent she cannot sleep in the dower house.”

  Fitzwilliam ran a hand through his hair. “And what is it she feels is amiss?”

  “The mattress in her room is too hard, but, if you will pardon me for speaking my piece, that mattress was just installed—new.”

  Elizabeth stood, wrapped a rug around herself, and took a spot beside her husband. “New?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Higgs averted his eyes. “Miss de Bourgh replaced it a few months before her mother took her to London. One of her biggest concerns when she became mistress was to ensure the dower house was in good repair.”

  Fitzwilliam began to speak, but she stayed him with a hand to his arm. “Forgive me, Higgs, for requiring this of the staff so late at night, but is it safe to assume Lady Catherine has never had issue with the mattress in her former chambers?”

  The older man smiled. “No ma’am, she has never complained.”

  “Then would you please have several footmen load it into a cart and exchange it for the mattress Lady Catherine feels is inadequate. She then should have no further complaints about the bed at the dower house.”

  “If you give me a moment,” interjected Fitzwilliam, “I will accompany you down and give her the news myself.”

  “No, sir.” Higgs held up his hand to stay Fitzwilliam. “I will be pleased to deliver the message.” With a trill laugh, he rubbed his hands together and gave a quick bow. “I hope you have a pleasant evening, sir, ma’am.”

  The butler’s chuckles echoed as he made his way down the corridor.

  “I almost wish I had gone down to deliver the message.” Fitzwilliam’s voice was low as he complained, but it was obvious he was more amused than angry. “We will pay for this on the morrow. You do realise?”

  She returned to bed and nestled back into the bedclothes. “Well, we shall just have to sleep well, so we can meet whatever challenge Lady Catherine presents with our wits about us.” She could hear him as he removed the rest of his clothes. “Are you going to join me or keep me waiting? I am cold.”