by Ola Wegner
“Lizzy, put yourself in Mr. Darcy’s situation. How would you react if you witnessed repeatedly that your beloved was having lengthy conversations with the one and same young, single and attractive woman? Would you not feel threatened?”
“It is not like that, Jane.”
“Imagine if Mr. Darcy preferred mine or Kitty’s company when you are in the room with him?”
“Jane, but—”
“Would you be pleased?”
Elizabeth thought for a moment. “No.”
“There, you see? You have your answer.”
“But Darcy—”
“Mr. Darcy has eyes only for you. He rarely addresses other women. He barely speaks even with me. Since your engagement I have seen him speaking for longer periods of time with Mama, Mrs. Gardiner, or his sister, and in most cases you were the sole subject of those conversations.”
“Am I forbidden to speak to other men, then?”
Jane sighed. “Lizzy, I am trying to help you, but you are not listening. For your own good, I advise you to cut all your future interactions with Colonel Fitzwilliam short and sweet.”
“For now I cannot even think about facing Colonel Fitzwilliam again. Oh, Jane, it was so mortifying and humiliating when Darcy said in front of Colonel Fitzwilliam that my days and nights belonged to him. I wanted to hide in the library and not leave before the morning.”
“Mr. Darcy certainly made his opinion known.”
Elizabeth dropped heavily on the bed, lying on her back. “He did.”
“Lizzy, I think that you should be more concerned about facing Mr. Darcy, rather than his cousin.”
“Insufferable man,” Elizabeth murmured.
“Who?” Jane asked innocently.
Elizabeth shot her an exasperated look. “Darcy, naturally!”
“His character should not be of much surprise to you by now.”
“Jane, you are not helping me!”
“Forgive me, Lizzy,” Jane apologized quietly. “It was not my intention to upset you even more.”
The sisters were silent for a moment longer. At last Elizabeth said, sitting up, “You are correct, though, that my next conversation with Fitzwilliam Darcy will not be an easy one.”
Chapter Fifteen
“What a year it has been,” Jane marvelled. “This time last year I was in despair over Mr. Bingley’s departure, fearing that I would never see him again.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And tomorrow you will marry him.”
The sisters were sitting on Elizabeth’s bed, in her mostly empty bedroom. The room would soon be redecorated for Kitty.
“And you and Mr. Darcy!” Jane exclaimed softly. “Who would have thought?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Certainly not I.”
Jane watched her sister closely. “Did you have the opportunity to talk with Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth’s expression fell. “There was no time for that. I tried to find a private moment. However, Darcy was less eager to do so.”
“Is he avoiding you?”
“On the contrary. He seeks my company as always, but we have been constantly surrounded by people these days.”
“It is not my desire to pry, Lizzy, but it does not seem a particularly sound idea to say the marriage vows when you two are in disagreement.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I am aware of it, Jane. Darcy behaves as if nothing has happened between us.”
“You feel differently, though.”
“I will talk to him,” Elizabeth promised with determination.
“Tomorrow, before the wedding?” Jane guessed.
“Rather after the ceremony on our way to Derbyshire. It will be the first opportunity to speak with him privately in days.”
“Derbyshire!” Jane exclaimed softly. “It is so far away.”
“It is. I cannot believe that we will not able to see each other every other day.”
“I had never even considered such a possibility that one day we would live in different parts of the country.”
“It does not have to be like that.”
Jane gave her a questioning look. “You told me yourself that Mr. Darcy prefers the country and cannot imagine spending an entire year in London away from Pemberley.”
“Your Mr. Bingley, however, has not yet decided whether he wants to make Netherfield his permanent residence,” Elizabeth pointed out quickly.
“He has not,” Jane confirmed.
“Convince him to consider moving to the north. It does not have to be in Derbyshire; the neighbouring county would do.”
Jane hesitated. “Charles never mentioned the possibility of living in the north.”
Elizabeth wrapped her fingers around her sister’s wrists, looking into her blue eyes. “Jane, Darcy will never leave Pemberley, nor will he ever want to live in London, but Mr. Bingley is free to choose where he will buy his estate. Convincing him to move north is our only chance for us to see each other more than twice a year.”
The knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Mrs. Bennet entered, dressed in her nightclothes, her hair twisted in curling papers. “There you are! I have been looking for you, Jane, but it is good that I can talk to Lizzy as well.”
Mrs. Bennet settled on the chair, facing her two eldest daughters, placing her hands neatly on her lap. “Jane, Elizabeth, tomorrow you will leave this house and begin a new life. You both are marrying good, wealthy men, and I am proud of you.”
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged surprised looks. They were not expecting a speech like this from their mother on the eve of their wedding.
Their mother continued, “I am your mother, so it is my duty to give you my advice and guide you. Tomorrow evening, you will...you will...”
“Mama, we are aware what will happen tomorrow night,” Jane said quickly, guessing the woman’s intention.
“We have been raised in the country, after all,” Elizabeth added.
Mrs. Bennet nodded, looking relieved. “I am pleased that there is no need to explain the mechanics to you. There are still matters you should know of. Firstly, the first time with your husband will be painful, or at the very least uncomfortable. You have to bear it. Thankfully, it will not last long. My advice is to close your eyes, spread your legs, clench your teeth and think of England. It is not my wish to frighten you. You may expect that with time, a little practise and familiarity, you will learn to enjoy the marriage bed. Especially since both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are young, strong and handsome, as well as even-tempered and caring towards you. However, if you find yourself not particularly inclined to the act, there are ways to avoid it, such as headaches or citing tiredness. However, I am not advising you to do it until after you give birth to at least one or two children, boys preferably, when your position is secured. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mama,” the sisters answered in unison.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No, Mama.”
“Good, good, excellent.” Mrs. Bennet stood up. “I will bid you good night. Do not stay too late, otherwise you will look a fright tomorrow with dark circles under the eyes.”
As the sisters were left alone, Elizabeth spoke first, “I did not expect that Mama would want to discuss this with us.”
“She was very embarrassed,” Jane noted.
“She was relieved that we did not ask any questions.”
“I do not blame her. It must be difficult to speak of such intimate matters with one’s daughters.” Jane moved to the edge of the bed. “I should go, Lizzy. Mama is right, we should retire early.”
“I will not be able to fall asleep.”
Jane found her slippers and leaned over to hug her sister. “Good night, Lizzy.”
“Good night,” Elizabeth responded. “Please, promise me that you will think about what we spoke of before Mama came.”
“I will, Sister.”
Elizabeth put down the candle and lay down on her back. She closed her eyes, but she did not have the slightest urge to sleep. How
could she? She knew that Jane was right, that she should have discussed the matter of Colonel Fitzwilliam with Darcy. However, it was also the truth that she and Darcy had barely had a moment to themselves for the last days. Darcy did not seem upset with her, though, treating her with his usual consideration, tenderness and kindness. Colonel Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, barely acknowledged her, staying on the other side of the room from her.
She turned on her side. Tomorrow she would be a married woman. It would be long months before she saw her family. She would have a new family, though, her new place in the world. How could she fall asleep? So many changes were coming with her new life having its start tomorrow.
***
Elizabeth waved dutifully at the slowly disappearing crowd of family, friends and neighbours gathered in front of her childhood home.
As soon as they were on the road leading to Meryton, Darcy, who was seated in front of her, reached to close the window. “It is a cold day. I do not wish for you to become sick on the journey.”
Those were the first words he had spoken directly to her today. The wedding ceremony and the wedding breakfast had been a blur of many faces, smiles, cheers and good wishes.
“I am quite warm,” she assured him. She felt almost too warm, dressed in her thick, new, dark-purple velvet coat lined with fur.
“Finally,” Darcy breathed in relief. He removed his top hat and gloves. “No more parties, dinners, gatherings, or people constantly surrounding us, only you and I.” He stretched his long legs in front of him and closed his eyes, his body relaxing visibly.
He seemed to enjoy the silence, thus Elizabeth decided not to interrupt the peacefulness he craved so much. She occupied herself with gazing out of the window at the familiar passing scenery. As they were driving through the high street of Meryton, she looked at the familiar shops which she often visited with her sisters. When would be the next opportunity to go on a stroll with her sisters? A year? Perhaps even longer.
“You looked beautiful today, Mrs. Darcy,” Darcy’s voice rumbled at her ear.
Turning her head, she looked into his face. He leaned for a kiss, his fingers working on the bow at her chin, untying it, pushing back her bonnet.
“Fitzwilliam, we should—” she started, but her words turned into a gasp when his hand slipped inside her coat, cupping her breast through the fine lace of her wedding dress.
Fighting the temptation of surrendering completely to the pleasure brought by his touch, she spoke clearly, “We should discuss the matter of Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy’s movements stopped, and he went completely still. “I do not see the point in discussing my cousin.” His hand on her chest busied itself again, his fingers opening the side clasp of her dress.
Trying her best to ignore his hand now stroking gently her bare flesh, she said, “We must speak about what happened that evening and about what you said to me.”
Darcy sighed, kissing her cheek. Without removing his hand from her bosom, he shifted her so that her back was to his chest. With his arms around her, he pulled her to him in a tight and secure embrace.
“You cannot forbid me from speaking with other people, men or women,” she said, settling against him.
“I did no such a thing.”
“You accused me of flirting with him, which was not the case.”
“Was it not?”
“Since our engagement, every conversation I had with Colonel Fitzwilliam has been related to you or to our wedding plans.”
“For my peace of mind, I would ask you to restrain yourself from discussing me or our marriage with him.” His voice was quiet and gentle but with a note of seriousness to it.
“I do understand your point, I truly do,” she spoke fervently. “I would not be pleased if I saw you speak with an eligible and attractive young lady for longer that the exchange of simple greetings or pleasantries.”
“There, you see, I was correct,” he said, clearly pleased with her admission, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“However, you should not have said to your cousin that my nights belonged to you.”
“It is the truth,” he stated. “Or at least it will be from this night on,” he added in a low voice.
“Fitzwilliam,” she groaned, losing her patience. “It was entirely unnecessary.”
“I do not regret saying it,” he insisted. “I will not apologize if you expect this from me.”
“Can you imagine how I felt? How humiliating it was to me?”
“Forgive me, then, if I caused you discomfort,” he spoke stiffly. “It was not my intention. Nevertheless, you can be well assured now that such a situation will not be repeated in the future. My cousin understood my meaning very well.”
“I will not be able to look him in the eye the next time we meet,” she complained. “I cannot avoid talking to him forever, as I have done for the last couple of days.”
“That is good.”
Elizabeth turned into his embrace, pushing at his chest. “You do not feel in the least ashamed of what you have done,” she accused.
“I do not,” he agreed merrily. “If you cannot imagine yourself looking him in the eye, it means that you will not engage him in lengthy conversations as was your custom.”
“What about your friendship with Colonel Fitzwilliam? Will you allow it to suffer because of your unnecessary remarks?”
“Our friendship is as good as ever,” Darcy claimed. “Richard goaded me that evening, and not for the first time. We know each other very well, Elizabeth, and I can assure you that he does not hold ill feelings towards me. If anything, he is amused with the entire situation.”
“I am not amused,” Elizabeth deadpanned.
Darcy pulled her to him, placing her head on his chest, to which she did not protest. “Can we put this topic to rest?” he asked.
“You refuse to see any reason, thus I do not see the point of continuing,” she murmured.
“Good.” He kissed her forehead and nose. “You are cold.”
“A little,” she admitted, snuggling deeper into his embrace.
“This is why I try to avoid travelling in winter for longer distances,” he said.
Elizabeth was confused when he pushed her gently away from him and began removing something from under the seat.
“Come here.” He motioned for her to cling to him again before covering both of them with lush, dark fur. “Better?” he asked after a moment, rubbing her back.
She nodded sleepily, yawning into the fine cloth of his great coat.
“Tired?” he whispered, his fingertips stroking the side of her face.
She nodded again, this time closing her eyes.
“Sleep,” he ordered softly, his arms tightening around her with such strength that it was for a moment painful.
“I love you, my dearest Elizabeth,” she heard before slipping into obliviousness.
Chapter Sixteen
Elizabeth entered the spacious chamber with small square windows. Darcy was right behind her.
“Is it to your satisfaction?”
She looked over her shoulder, smiling at him reassuringly. “Very much so.”
They walked to the door, opened it and stepped into the smaller bedchamber. Elizabeth noticed that one of the trunks, the one with all her travel necessities, already stood by the window.
“Are you certain that you will manage without a maid tonight?”
“I have managed for one and twenty years, I do believe that I shall be fine for a few more days.”
“Mrs. Reynolds assured me in her letters that she had selected your lady’s maid very carefully and that you would be pleased with her.”
“I am certain that I will be,” Elizabeth agreed.
“If not, you can always pick someone else.”
She smiled again. “I know.”
He took one step closer. “Well then...” he cleared his throat.
She gave him a questioning gaze.
Leaning down, he kissed her
cheek, his lips lingering on the corner of her mouth. “I shall see to our people, and later we should have dinner in here, unless you wish to go downstairs to the common area.”
“Oh, no. I have seen too many people in the recent days. I crave privacy.”
“Very well then. I will ask to send dinner in....” he hesitated, looking at her questioningly, “half an hour?”
“Yes. Excellent.”
He bowed his curly head before leaving the room.
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the small space. The bed seemed sturdy and inviting, the linens freshly laundered and ironed.
Half an hour. She had a little time to refresh before his return. She had to prepare herself for the night.
Kneeling in front of her trunk, she opened it. Right at the top there was a nightgown with matching robe, and slippers. Jane had received identical nightclothes.
She disrobed herself quickly, trembling against the slight chill in the room. She had some trouble with removing her stays. It was not only new, but also fastened tighter than she was used to.
Only in her stockings and shift, she walked to the nightstand and washed herself the best she could. She had taken a bath yesterday evening, washing her hair, and she still felt clean. She unpinned her hair, brushed it and plaited it into a loose braid.
She was hanging her clothes properly on a hood behind the screen so they would not become crumpled over the night when there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“The dinner is here, Elizabeth.”
She was surprised how fast half an hour had passed. “I am almost ready.”
Hastily she put on her nightgown, robe and slippers.
When she stepped out, Darcy was standing by the table behind one of the chairs, his fingers gripping the green upholstery. His dark eyes settled on her form for a long time. He was not wearing his great coat anymore, but apart from that he was fully attired, including his neck cloth and long boots. Suddenly she felt underdressed. He did not seem disapproving of her informal outfit—on the contrary.