“I do not recall a time when you earned my disapproval, Miss Bennet.”
“I believe in such cases, a good memory is unpardonable, Mr. Darcy. It is to my benefit that you do not possess one, sir.” He could not help but smile at such a statement.
“Perhaps that could be said for the both of us.”
~*~
Jane Bingley was unconsciously humming as she stood on the balcony of her lovely bedchamber when Elizabeth knocked on her door. Annie, one of the maids assigned to the east wing, greeted her on her way out.
“Oh, Lizzy, is this not the most beautiful place you have ever seen?” gushed her sister.
“Yes, but it is a little overwhelming,” agreed Elizabeth, mentally noting that her own room was even grander than the one her sister occupied.
“Where is Charles? I thought we could all go down to dinner together. Amongst the three of us, I am sure we shall be able to locate the dining salon.”
“He was summoned by Caroline, who seems to be having a problem with her accommodations,” said Jane.
“Yes, I believe everyone in the house has been made aware of Miss Bingley’s dissatisfaction.”
Elizabeth took Jane’s hand, and they sat together on the large bed. “It has been so long since we have been able to talk privately, Jane. You certainly look the happy bride.”
“Oh, Lizzy, how I wish that you could know such happiness.”
“I could never have your happiness until I have your goodness, Jane.”
“Why do you speak so? Oh, Lizzy, you have so much goodness; anyone can see that. When you say such things, you puzzle me exceedingly.”
“I do not wish to be a puzzle to you, dear sister. I am just saying that Charles could not help but fall in love with you. Your goodness and beauty captured his heart almost immediately.”
“Well, he may have fallen in love with me, but if Mr. Darcy had not advised him, he never would have proposed.”
“What? Are you saying that Mr. Darcy convinced Charles to propose to you?”
“Charles confessed on our honeymoon that he had been swayed by his sisters’ opinions and that he was also under the impression that Mr. Darcy did not approve of me either. He said he was so miserable without me, Lizzy, that he decided to confront Mr. Darcy.”
“That is most unbelievable, Jane,” said Elizabeth. This did not correspond with what Caroline Bingley had intimated on the balcony that night. “What did Mr. Darcy say to him?”
“He advised Charles that he should act according to his own desires and not those of others. Charles said he had a very odd feeling that evening, as if Mr. Darcy was trying to tell him something of himself.”
“Did Mr. Darcy reveal anything further about it?”
“I do not think he elaborated on the subject; at least Charles did not mention it.”
“So Mr. Darcy actually encouraged his friend to propose to you! I am all astonishment!”
Now that she thought upon it, Miss Bingley had said she sought Mr. Darcy’s help in separating Jane and Mr. Bingley; she did not say he had given it.
“Does Mr. Darcy continue his attentions to you, Lizzy?”
“Our relationship is precarious at best. But I feel we are making progress as to becoming good friends.
“Well, the two of you always seem to have so much to talk about.”
“Yes, we speak on many subjects. We have discovered similar interests in books and philosophies, and we both enjoy riding.” And our similar interest in Ellie, thought Elizabeth. “Why do you ask so many questions regarding Mr. Darcy?”
“Oh, no reason. I was just wondering . . . well, since he was so very attentive to you at the ball, I was curious if perhaps he had . . . expressed any . . . any . . .”
“Any what? What are you trying to ask me, Jane?”
“Oh, Lizzy, do you not think Mr. Darcy might be partial to you?”
“He treats me as he would any relative to Mr. Bingley. Do you not remember that Miss Bingley has been invited to Pemberley also? What makes you think he holds me in any special regard?”
“I don’t know. I thought I detected some preference on his part,” said Jane as she looked down at her hands in her lap and blushed.
“My dear sister, you are the world’s worst liar. I am thankful my life has never depended upon your convincing someone of an untruth.” Lizzy raised an eyebrow at Jane. “Okay, out with it. What do you know?”
Jane’s brow furrowed as she bit her lip. This was indeed most perplexing. To whom does one show their allegiance? To the sister she has loved dearly and confided in all her life? Or to the husband she had just agreed to love, honour, and obey?
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
If looks could kill, Elizabeth knew she would never have survived the first course of dinner. Caroline Bingley stared at her from across the table, her displeasure clearly written on her face.
Caroline could not fathom how such a thing could possibly have come about. Certainly this was not by Mr. Darcy’s design. Miss Eliza must have wheedled an invitation somehow, preying upon Georgiana’s sweet nature perhaps or using her new brother to appeal to Mr. Darcy’s generosity.
Yes, that must be it. Poor Mr. Darcy, to be put in such an awkward position—being forced to entertain someone so unworthy as Miss Eliza. Caroline could not help but demonstrate her superiority in front of her host.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for rectifying the error in my accommodations,” said Caroline sweetly. “I know it was not my place to reprimand your staff, sir, but such an obvious blunder had to be addressed.”
Darcy had been seriously annoyed to learn of the abuse endured by those in his employ at the hands of Miss Bingley and repeatedly had to remind himself that it was for his best friend that he tolerate such behaviour. “I trust you are now situated to your liking, Miss Bingley?”
“Oh, quite, sir,” replied Caroline as she batted her eyes in his direction. “The view from my balcony is breath-taking.” She peered across the table and directed her next words towards her unworthy dinner companion. “It is a pity you do not have such a view, Miss Eliza.”
“I am exceedingly pleased with my rooms, Miss Bingley. I could not want for anything finer,” answered Elizabeth.
“Of course, it is all in what one is accustomed to,” Caroline replied imperiously. “Certainly Pemberley must be beyond all your expectations. Naturally you would be exceedingly pleased with any situation you might find here.”
Caroline turned her head in a dismissive manner and gave her full attention back to her host. “How is dear Ellie this evening?” she asked.
“She is exceedingly well. Now that she has taken her first steps, she is keeping Mrs. Hawkins quite busy. She is almost running after only one day.” Darcy unconsciously looked over to Elizabeth and gave her a warm smile.
A voice from the opposite end of the table brought all eyes to Lady Catherine. “Miss Bennet, my granddaughter seems much attached to you. How do you account for this?”
Elizabeth looked over to Lady Catherine and nervously smiled. “Yes, your ladyship, as you know we spent much time together at Netherfield. She is a very bright and endearing child. I . . . I am very fond of her.”
“As are we all, your ladyship,” Caroline immediately interjected. “Have I not expressed the same sentiments on many occasions, Mr. Darcy?”
“It is so,” was all the reply Darcy could muster.
Discourse continued as Bingley captured Darcy’s ear regarding his planned improvements to Netherfield Park while Jane, Georgiana, and Elizabeth spoke of tomorrow’s activities. Lady Catherine claimed fatigue and made an early departure to her rooms. Mr. Hurst said little as it would be impolite to speak with one’s mouth full, while Caroline and Louisa spoke in hushed whispers between themselves.
That evening a new guest arrived rather late, one that Mr. Darcy had especially requested to join them for a day or two. A Mr. Thomas Gainsboro arrived, carrying with him only a small satchel, which he insisted on attending to himself.<
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The ladies were informed that as an entertainment the following day, miniatures would be painted of each of them. Mr. Gainsboro was touted to be an up and coming artist, and Darcy thought it would serve two purposes to invite the gentleman to Pemberley: a day’s diversion for the ladies and a way to assist the young man in his artistry. Indeed, to be invited to paint miniatures at Pemberley was an affirmation of Mr. Gainesboro’s talent, one that all good society would not ignore.
The men spent the next day shooting while the ladies each spent a little leisure time in the gardens awaiting their turn with Mr. Gainsboro. With their miniatures completed, Elizabeth, Jane, and Georgiana decided on a walk.
Upon their return to the garden, Mrs. Hawkins arrived with Ellie in tow. The little girl toddled steadily towards them while holding Mrs. Hawkins’s hand. She had already become a very proficient walker, much like her mother. Delighted to see her daughter, Elizabeth almost ran to meet her.
With Caroline’s miniature just completed, she entered the garden where the sight of Miss Eliza and Ellie seemed to annoy her greatly; the contemptuous look on her face revealed her distaste for the pair.
Caroline was more eager than ever to rid herself of this country chit’s presence, especially after learning that she occupied chambers in the family quarters. How had she manipulated that little feat?
That evening, when dinner was over, they proceeded to the music room where a choice of tea, coffee or port was offered. Mrs. Hurst entertained at the pianoforte while the rest of the guests sat and indulged in conversation. By the time the evening ended, Elizabeth was exhausted as it was indeed quite late. She climbed the stairs, following the blue and yellow carpet to the west wing. She entered her bedchamber, and, upon noting that the time was well past midnight, she was struck with something that could not wait. Leaving her room, she continued to follow the blue and yellow carpet as she moved towards the nursery. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and saw her daughter asleep in her crib. She approached her and bent down to kiss her cheek.
“Happy birthday, my sweet child,” she whispered.
As she stood there gently stroking Ellie’s back, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, an overwhelming sense of contentment fell over her. Tears of happiness filled her eyes as she watched her sleeping child.
Yes, she could be content with this life. Having Ellie so close every day, watching her grow and knowing she was happy, knowing she was part of the reason for her daughter’s happiness. She knew she owed William a debt of gratitude.
Just as she was about to turn to leave, she felt a hand on her shoulder. At first startled, the touch turned into a tender caress, arresting her fear. He stood so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.
She could not help herself. She reached up and put her hand over his as they both stood there together, gazing down at their daughter. After several moments, he turned her towards him, and their eyes met. His hands secured her waist, and he pulled her closer. As his arms surrounded her, he lowered his head and placed a tender kiss upon her willing lips. His senses came alive with her lavender scent and the sweet taste of her lips as he deepened their kiss, enveloping her so tightly into his embrace that it was a wonder she could still breathe.
He drew back, and their eyes met briefly once again. A moment later he was gone, leaving Elizabeth to wonder if it had only been her imagination.
~*~
He had been as a schoolboy the entire week, anticipating her arrival, imagining her in every room of Pemberley. In the music room, he saw her playing the pianoforte; as he dined, he imagined her conversing next to him. He envisioned her in the nursery, tending their child, and nightly, he conjured her presence in his bedchamber.
It was perhaps unwise to have her rooms situated so close to his own, but knowing that she slept only two doors away from him was exquisite torture. Indeed, only a connecting sitting room separated their two bedchambers.
He had no sooner entered his room than he heard her pass his door and enter the nursery; he had no choice but to follow. As he witnessed the scene, his heart went out to her; a secret happy birthday to her daughter. For all the rest of the world Ellie’s birthday would be in two days, the day she had first been brought to Pemberley, but today, he knew Elizabeth celebrated the day she had given birth to their child.
He did not know what possessed him to kiss her, but the temptation had been too great to resist. How could he ever hope to gain her good opinion if his behaviour was so improper? Once again he found that while in her presence, he had acted as he should not. What was it about her that made him do such things?
But it had always been that way with her, from the beginning. He had said and done and felt things with her that he had never said nor done nor felt with any other woman. He imagined it would always be so.
As he had stood behind her, gazing down at Ellie, he felt all was right with the world. After all, were they not, in every sense of the word, a family? What could be more natural than to celebrate their child’s birthday with a kiss? Or perhaps more than a kiss? He felt his body react as he imagined taking her to his bed, kissing his way down her body, touching her intimately . . . Oh, bloody hell.
~*~
The following afternoon saw the arrival of Richard and his parents, Lord and Lady Matlock. Richard was not surprised to learn of Miss Bennet’s presence at Pemberley and was quite anxious to see what developments might transpire during his visit.
At Darcy’s insistence, Elizabeth selected a horse to be hers to ride whenever she wished. She chose a beautiful silver grey mare, Shayla. It was at the stables that Richard first encountered her.
“Miss Bennet, I am delighted to see you again.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam! I am delighted as well. Have you just arrived?” asked Elizabeth, now grateful she had accepted Georgiana’s gracious lending of one of her riding outfits.
“A short while ago. My parents insisted that I have tea with them and our host before I headed for the stables. They know only too well that once I see Darcy’s horses, I will not be seen for some time to come.”
“I’m awaiting my mount, sir; would you care to join me?” asked Elizabeth.
“It is kind of your to offer. It shall be my pleasure to accompany you.”
“Although I admit to having a generous nature, I must confess my motive may be more self-serving than kind. I fear if I ride alone, I may get lost and never find my way back to the house.”
“I will gladly be your guide, Miss Bennet,” said the colonel with a laugh.
The two rode for well over an hour as the colonel pointed out some of the delights of Pemberley’s grounds. Elizabeth was enthralled with the beautiful woods and trails that surrounded the estate. They went on as far as the eye could see.
When they returned to the house, they entered together and were immediately informed that the rest of the party were enjoying refreshments on the veranda. Elizabeth expressed her desire to freshen up and departed to her rooms while the colonel headed towards the gathering of guests.
Darcy eyed his cousin with displeasure as he watched him approach the portico. Wishing to talk to him alone, he directed his long strides in his direction, reaching him just before he entered the veranda. “Might I have a word, Richard?” he asked as pleasantly as was possible, considering his ill mood.
Richard nodded, and they walked to the study. Once inside, Darcy poured out a drink for each of them. Knowing exactly what had triggered his cousin’s disagreeable manner and look of disdain, Richard had a hard time keeping his countenance in check.
“I was just showing Miss Bennet some of your lovely woods and gardens,” he offered, trying to get a rise out of his cousin.
Handing Richard his drink he responded, “How fortunate that you were available to give her a tour of my property while I was busy entertaining my other guests. Perhaps you would care to invite her to visit my private orangery tomorrow?” replied Darcy.
“An exceptional id
ea! But I promised Mr. Bingley I would join his shooting party tomorrow,” replied Richard feigning ignorance of Darcy’s sarcastic remark.
Darcy gave his cousin a look that would have rivalled any Miss Bingley had ever bestowed upon Elizabeth. “Be careful, Richard.”
“Of what danger do you caution me, Darcy? Can a man not simply enjoy the company of a beautiful woman? She is not spoken for; at least, she has given no indication of a suitor.”
“She has none,” replied Darcy, immediately wishing he had not spoken with such conviction. “That is to say, I have no knowledge of her having a suitor,” Darcy replied, endeavouring to hide his obvious irritation.
“And you have denied any partiality towards the young lady yourself. Or has that changed?” Richard waited a beat before continuing. “So I can see no impediments to my spending some time in her company; can you?”
“While Miss Bennet is under my roof, I have an obligation to protect her reputation,” said Darcy as his breathing became more difficult to control.
“How very noble of you, Cousin. I shall bear that in mind. Before I act on an impulse which may cause damage to her reputation, I shall make certain I inform you first. However, I am of the opinion that the young lady may not be as innocent as you proclaim. I am anxious to test that theory.”
As Darcy heard these words, he saw red; he had no control over his actions as he pulled back his fist and struck his cousin squarely on the jaw. Richard reeled backwards as he struggled to remain on his feet. As his shoulders hit the wall, he steadied himself and stared at Darcy for a long moment.
Darcy stood across from him, breathing heavily and taking a stance as to defend himself, if necessary.
Bringing his hand to his jaw, Richard rubbed it gingerly and then did the unexpected—he gave Darcy a wide grin.
“I believe that is only part of the information I was seeking,” he said, the grin still not leaving his face.
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