An Arranged Marriage

by Jan Hahn

  "What need shall I have for two beds," I wondered aloud, and then thought how perfect it would be for Jane when she came to visit, how we would enjoy the benefit of being next to each other. Yes, that was it - the room must be a combination study for me and guest chamber for my most intimate friends. My, I thought, the very rich certainly do have advantages I have never dreamed of. However, at that very moment the door from the room to the hall opened...and a completely unexpected answer to my question walked in.

  "Madam?" Mr. Darcy raised one eyebrow in a sardonic expression. "May I presume that you seek my presence, seeing that you have invaded my bedroom?"

  I was aghast! "Your bedroom? But...but it connects with mine!"

  "It does, indeed." A faint smile crossed his countenance - actually more of a smirk than smile.

  I whirled around and marched back to my room, slamming the door between us. I turned to reach for the lock, when the door, itself, was snatched from my hands and pulled open by Mr. Darcy.

  "I am not accustomed to having doors slammed in my face," he said, advancing into the room as I backed away from him.

  "And I am not accustomed to such high-handed treatment, sir."

  "I fail to comprehend your meaning."

  "Why does your room connect to mine? How dare you put me in such a situation?"

  "Such a situation? Mrs. Darcy, these two rooms belonged to my parents and after their deaths, I naturally took my father's chamber as master of the house. You are now to preside as mistress; thus, I placed you in the very best suite which, obviously, happens to adjoin mine." He enjoyed this; it was evident by the continued smirk on his face.

  "Well," I sputtered, "well...I shall require a lock on this door. It does possess one, does it not?"

  With what appeared to be a deliberate, tedious turning of his head, Mr. Darcy looked at the knob and then back at me. "It does not."

  "Will you see that one is installed this very night?"

  "I will not."

  "Mr. Darcy! I protest! You assured me according to the terms of our arrangement that our marriage would be in name only until I wished differently. Are you going back on your word?"

  "I am not. That is why you have no need for a lock. I do not open doors where I am not wanted."

  "And how can I believe that after your behaviour last night? I want a lock."

  "My dear, I have apologized for my actions last night; I shall not do so again. But do heed what I am about to say: If you think a lock will keep me from your room, you are mistaken. When I decide to enter, there is no lock made that will keep me out."

  Before I could think of an answer, he turned and strode from the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Oh, I could not think clearly for the shock of his statement! How could he speak to me so? I gasped for air and paced the floor ten minutes or longer. Had his performance last night been an indicator of what was to come? Need I fear a repeat of it that night? If so, I would leave the house no matter what arrangement I had consented to. I would not live in fear of his coming through that door at any moment. I fumed and muttered to myself; I even cried a little, but when my emotions were spent and my anger subsided, I sank down upon the sofa, clasped my arms together and hugged them close to my body. Each time I looked at that door, gooseflesh ran up and down my arms. Gradually, I began to realize that neither fear nor even anger caused that reaction, but a sensation I was unable to name, a sensation that made me extremely uncomfortable.

  It welled up from somewhere deep within me, spurred by the memory of awakening in Mr. Darcy's arms and with my head upon his chest.

  Chapter 4

  Dinner that evening was a strained affair. I was surprised at the intimacy of the dining room when first I entered until Mrs. James explained that since it was just the two of us, Mr. Darcy had ordered our meal held in the smaller dining room. Naturally! I should have known he had two dining rooms - did he not have two or more of everything? I tried not to look at him, but it was next to impossible when there was little else on which to place my eyes. The crystal and china gleamed in the candlelight and I tried to keep my eyes on both for some time. The food was delicious, perfect in every detail, and if I had not been tormented by a headache, I would have eaten with more appetite. I had thought to decline dinner, begging off with the excuse of my ailment, but then I recalled how servants talk. If they know that Mr. Darcy has a headache and I complain of one, too, will not such ills so early in a marriage alert them to the unhappiness of our arrangement? They would know soon enough - how could they avoid the fact that we slept in separate beds? I knew little of marital intimacies, but it was a well-known fact that husbands and wives shared a bed early in their marriage.

  After dinner Mr. Darcy escorted me into the music room and asked me to play and sing for him. I started to refuse, until he spoke again.

  "My headache has not let up. Some soft music might do the trick."

  "I shall play, sir, but do not ask me to sing. I am not in the mood."

  "As you like." He sat down on a sofa opposite the pianoforte.

  I chose to play a Beethoven sonata in F minor, feeling his eyes upon me the entire time. Fortunately, the piece required that I watch the keys or music and not meet his gaze. If I had done so, I felt sure he would have had a critical expression thereon, as I fudged and slurred my way through several of the somber chords. At the end of the song, I looked up and saw that he had leaned his head against the sofa back and closed his eyes. Assuming I had put him to sleep, I rose and attempted to quietly slip out of the room and escape to my bedchamber, but he spoke before I could reach the door.

  "Thank you, Elizabeth, that was lovely. Will you have some wine?"

  "I thank you, no," I said, seating myself on a small chair. "And I hope you do not intend to imbibe tonight, sir. You said in the carriage that you were not in the habit of consuming much strong drink."

  He smiled slightly. "Do not fear a repeat of last evening. Even if I wanted to drink, my headache prevents it."

  We sat quietly for some time, neither of us even attempting to converse. I may as well get used to this silence, I thought. At last he rose and walked to the window, pushed aside the heavy drapery and looked out. "I see that the rain has returned."

  "Then I shall sleep well. The sound of raindrops against the window has always soothed me."

  "Except for last night."

  "Yes," I replied, somewhat disconcerted that he should speak of it again. "But even with the storm, I did sleep well."

  "Did you?" He turned to look upon me with an expression in his eyes that made me feel suddenly weak, almost trembling. I could do nothing but nod slightly. What possessed me? Why should his gaze affect me so? He walked toward me and held out his hand. "Shall we retire early tonight?"

  I am sure the width of my eyes caused him to realize my discomfort at such a proposal.

  "I meant no untoward suggestion, Elizabeth. I have a headache. I am tired. And I assume the day has been long for you as well. Shall we proceed above stairs, you to your chamber and I to mine?"

  "Actually, sir, I would beg leave to select a book from your library before I turn in."

  "Of course. I shall show you the way."

  "There is no need. I can summon a servant."

  The coolness of my tone must have succeeded in discouraging him, for he bowed slightly and with a simple, "Good-night, then," he strode up the stairs, after having summoned the butler to lead me into the large, well-endowed library. I delighted in canvassing the room, as I explored the volumes upon volumes of books. I took my time in doing so, not merely for the pleasure it afforded me, but also to insure that Mr. Darcy might be safely ensconced in his bedchamber by the time I retired to mine.

  At last I chose a new novel and hurried up the staircase. Closing the door once I reached my room and holding my breath, I leaned against it and listened for the sound of footsteps. When I heard none, I ventured into the room and noted the warmth of the fire already laid and waiting for me. I spread my hands before
it and then, completely unbidden, my eyes could not help but travel to the door between my suite and that of Mr. Darcy. I felt quite unnerved that we should sleep with only a wall between us. Suddenly I heard footsteps behind me and turned, covering my mouth to stifle a gasp.

  "Ma'am?" A young maid walked through the doorway from my dressing room. "I did not mean to startle you. I am Fiona. Does Madam require a bath tonight?"

  "Fiona," I said, so relieved I had to sit down on the sofa. "I would. I would, indeed. A bath would be the very thing to wash away the weariness of the road."

  "I shall attend to it immediately, Ma'am," she said, but instead of returning to the dressing room, she opened the door to the hallway.

  "Fiona? Where are you going?"

  She blushed and then stammered, "To inform Master Darcy's valet that you will require additional time before...you are...ready."

  "Ready? I do not understand."

  "For the master's visit, Ma'am," she said softly, obviously embarrassed to meet my eyes.

  I closed mine, amazed at my stupidity. Of course, she and Mr. Darcy's servant expected us to spend the night together. I must adjust to this. I was married and I must act the married woman at least until the servants realized we do not sleep together. "There is no need," I said. "Mr. Darcy has...tasks awaiting him. There will be adequate time for my bath before his...visit."

  She nodded, returned to the dressing room and readied the tub with steaming hot water. I proceeded to the dressing table and began to unpin my hair. How luxurious it felt to have her brush it and then pin it up loosely, just enough to keep from getting wet. She helped me to disrobe and I sighed with pleasure when I stepped into the warm tub, slipped down into the hot water, and laid my head back against the tub. Fiona had poured some sweet-smelling salts into the water and the incense and heat combined to make me feel at ease at last.

  "Oh, I've forgotten the lotions, Ma'am." She pulled drawers open while she searched throughout the room. "One moment, please. I'll return with great haste."

  "Do not hurry. I shall soak for a while."

  I heard the click of her heels as she left the dressing room and walked through my bedchamber and out into the hall. I sighed again, for I could not believe how much I needed this respite. The worries and cares of the last days seemed to slide off me as I slipped my shoulders under the water. I closed my eyes and inhaled the pleasing scent. I wriggled my toes and pulled my leg up and stretched it toward the ceiling, running the washcloth down the calf.

  I heard footsteps behind me again and realized I should allow the maid to wash me, as that was her job, and so I sat up. When the steps ceased and she did not appear, I turned to glance over my shoulder and inhaled sharply - there, just inside the doorway between the dressing room and my bedchamber, stood Mr. Darcy! I was too shocked to say or do anything other than sit there, my mouth agape. He, likewise, appeared stunned, but he did not turn and leave immediately as one would have expected. He stood there, silent and staring as though transfixed. He opened his mouth, but remained silent. At last he turned and vanished. I heard the door to the hallway close firmly behind him.

  I gasped for air, realizing suddenly that I had held my breath the entire time we had stared at each other. Why had he entered my room? Had he not promised to honour my privacy? And to think that he had seen me in my bath! I looked around, realizing that since the doorway was behind me, he had seen nothing more than my exposed back and shoulders, but still...we both knew that I was unclothed. Oh, what mortification! How could I ever face him again?

  Just then I heard the door to the hall open and I reached for the towel draped across the front of the tub. The sound of voices could be heard, one of them, which I recognized as Mr. Darcy's, loud and insistent. The door then closed and Fiona hurried into the room, carrying the lotion.

  "I beg your pardon, Ma'am," she said, obviously flustered. "I did not mean to be so long."

  "Is something wrong, Fiona?"

  "Yes, ma'am, it is my little boy. He has a toothache and he cries for me even though Betty tends him. Children always want their mothers when they are sick."

  "You have a son?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. His name is William, but I call him Willie."

  "But how can you be in service with a child to care for?"

  "The master...he gave me special permission, Ma'am. I know it is unusual, but the master is the kindest of men, although he is quite unhappy with me just now."

  "The master? Was that his voice I heard raised in the hall?"

  "Yes, ma'am. He came in search of me when he was told that the child was crying and he said I had left the door to your chamber open, for which I beg your pardon most heartily, Ma'am. I pray you do not hold it against me. We are most fortunate that it was only the master who discovered it, are we not?" She smiled and winked at me, as though to say she understood the intimacies of marriage. Well, of course she would; she had a child.

  "Yes, quite," I murmured. She then proceeded to wash my back and helped me dry off and get dressed for bed. She rubbed my arms, hands and neck with the lotion. After unpinning my hair, she brushed it again, the steaming bath having caused my curls to misbehave in their own wayward manner.

  "So, this Betty tends your son while you are working, Fiona? Is that correct?"

  "Yes, she's grown old now, but once she worked in the kitchen at Pemberley as I did."

  "Oh, you work at Pemberley also?"

  "Not any more. I worked there in the kitchen when I was much younger until...until I had Willie. With his birth, the master moved me to London and I trained to be an upstairs maid. The master is so good. He could have banished me when I became with child, but instead, he moved me here and he kept Betty on so that she could help me. Master Darcy is truly the best of men."

  "And your husband? Does he work in the house also?"

  She blushed and would not meet my eyes. " 'Tis shameful to admit, Ma'am, but I have never married."

  "I see." Now I was embarrassed, but surprised at the news. Why should Mr. Darcy, who prided himself upon his propriety, show kindness to a fallen woman and keep her in his employment - not only keep her employed, but elevate her to ladies' maid?

  "I had Willie five years ago, Ma'am, when I was naught but fifteen years old. The year before, I left Scotland to live with my uncle and aunt who are in service at Pemberley, and when I became with child, I had nowhere to go. They are all the family I have left. The master was most understanding. He could not have me remain at Pemberley because of Miss Georgiana. She was so young at the time and he is very protective of her, but he found a place for me here in London. I am most grateful."

  "I can see how you would be," I said, rising. "Go back to your child, now. I do not need anything else this evening." One last time she plumped the pillows on the bed she had turned down, and then curtseyed and departed.

  I was glad to be alone. Not only did I suffer a headache, now my thoughts reeled with what had happened earlier. Mr. Darcy entered my room uninvited and invaded my privacy once again. Was he a man I should fear? Would he burst through the door adjoining our chambers in the middle of the night, demanding his conjugal rights? That image was in complete opposition to the picture just painted by the servant - that of a merciful, kind and compassionate master. Who was the real Mr. Darcy?

  A knock at the inner door caused me to jump! It could be no one other than him. My first thought was to barricade myself inside the dressing room, an idea I quickly abandoned upon remembering his warning that a door would not bar him if he wanted in. I took a deep breath and opened the door, although I must admit that my hand shook as I reached for the doorknob.

  There he stood, still completely dressed, which I took as a reassuring sign. I realized that I was dressed for bed and drew my robe a little closer. It was the one alteration to my dark wardrobe that I had allowed - a beautiful champagne-coloured silk robe given to me by Mrs. Gardiner. I knew she had envisioned me in it on my wedding night, wearing it for my new husband. I could tell it flatt
ered me by the way Mr. Darcy looked me up and down, but I refused to back down and met his eyes with a fierceness of my own.

  "Sir?"

  "May I come in, Elizabeth?"

  "For what reason?"

  "I brought you some books. I thought they might prove diverting. And...to apologize."

  The look of contrition in his eyes seemed genuine and so I stepped back, allowing him entrance. I returned to the fireplace and he followed me, but maintained an acceptable amount of distance from my person.

  "Forgive me, Elizabeth, for barging in earlier. I had not the least idea you were...bathing."

  I said nothing, giving him not the slightest assistance.

  "My valet said Fee's child was ill and when he could not find her, I thought she must be preparing your room. With the door left ajar, I assumed you were still in the library and that she had not heard my knocking. I did knock."

  "I did not hear a knock."

  "But I did. You must believe me. I entered only to find the maid."

  His apology sounded sincere, but I was not in a mood to make things easier for him, so I did not reply and, instead, settled myself upon the sofa.

  "I know that you like to read, so I selected a couple of books for you." He handed me a collection of Dunne's sonnets and a novel by Richard Graves.

  "Thank you." I flipped through the pages.

  "I hope you found something of interest below stairs, but I picked these two from among my favourites, which I keep on the shelves inside my room."

  "You have a great many favourites." I recalled the walls of bookshelves I had seen earlier. He nodded and I could not keep myself from adding, "I do like books, Mr. Darcy, and I shall endeavour most heartily to improve my mind by extensive reading."