Mr. Darcy's Promise

by Jeanna Ellsworth

  “I do not think so. Mrs. Reynolds was quite thorough.” Georgiana had barely listened to what was said, but did not want to admit to it. She reached for two of the baskets and watched as Elizabeth took the other one. They were handed into the carriage together, the baskets crowded at their feet.

  The service visits went smoothly, and at each house she noted ways she could offer assistance. The Madisons needed wood in their wood pile before the winter set in. The Petersens had two windows that were broken and boarded up that she could ask Mr. Darcy to fix, and the Smith’s little girl had obviously grown out of her clothes. She offered invitations to all of the families to come to the festival and gave them their baskets. She was thanked profusely each time as well.

  By the time they returned to Pemberley Mr. Darcy was waiting for them outside. He handed them out of the carriage and he tucked Elizabeth’s arm into his. Just this once. I will hold her arm just this once. He stopped her just before they went inside, “How did the visits with the tenants go, Elizabeth?”

  She paused and looked thoughtful. “It was wonderful; well, sad, but wonderful. I feel like I am a better person for going, and yetIwas the one supposed to be helpingthem. They were so kind and welcoming.” She then told him about the needs she noticed and asked what they could do about them.

  “Of course we can help. These tenants ask so little but need so much. I am sure they all appreciated your visit.” He had seen Georgiana go in silently to the house but also noticed that her mood wasn’t any better. “And how did Georgiana do? Do you think it helped her?”

  “For a while there last week I thought she was doing better, but she seems anxious and distracted again. I do not know if the visits helped. She conversed with them but it seemed to take effort on her part.” Elizabeth wondered if now was a good time to talk to him about Wickham’s letter to Georgiana. She had been thinking about it quite a bit and felt he should know about it. It was so threatening, and at the very least he should know some way to ease Georgiana’s anxiety. But first, she recalled, she would have to talk to Georgiana about her decision to tell Mr. Darcy.

  Elizabeth felt wholly comfortable now talking with Mr. Darcy. They had continued their walks and conversations, and now spent a great deal of time with each other. Although she was filling her time with learning her new duties as mistress of Pemberley, and she was sure he had plenty to do as master of Pemberley, he always made time to feed the chickens every day after lunch. She giggled, thinking about his falsetto chicken call and his funny face as he did it. He would tilt his chin up and half-smile when he did it, revealing his teeth in the same moment, making each time he did it quite entertaining. She could tell he was still uncomfortable around the chickens, but he did it anyway. In fact, he still always stepped back when they came rushing to his call. One such time he stepped into mud and his foot had slipped, almost causing him to fall. She wondered why he kept feeding the chickens with her when he was not totally comfortable around them. Perhaps it is a way to spend time with me. The thought made her blush.

  “Why are you giggling?” His hand started to reach for her blushing cheek but he tucked it back behind him. Holding her arm was enough of a temptation and tried his convictions plenty.

  “Oh, I am just distracted, I suppose.”

  “No, I do not think so. I insist you tell me what you were thinking.”

  “Or what, Mr. Darcy?” She arched her eyebrow challengingly at him.

  “Oh, it is back to ‘Mr. Darcy’? I was getting rather used to ‘William.’ Well then, if you do not tell me why you were giggling then I shall . . . I shall . . . throw you in the mud!”

  Her mouth popped open, half in astonishment, half in amusement. “You would not dare!”

  He looked around and started pulling her towards the barn, “Yes, I do believe there was some mud in the coop . . . I am sure it would match your hair nicely,” In mock-outrage, she tugged back on her arm, but he held tight. He continued to pull, gently forcing her feet to move forward.

  “I do not give up easily, you know,” Elizabeth warned him.

  He continued to pull her, as he rather liked this teasing side of her. “Trust me, I know just how decided your mind can be.”

  “What is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me stubborn?” She was enjoying the lightness of the mood. In truth, she wasn’t resisting all that hard. They were making progress towards the barn and for a fleeting moment she wondered if he really would throw her in the mud.

  “Oh, I would not dare call you stubborn but since you brought it up, I might remind you that it came out of your perfect little mouth, not mine.” Mr. Darcy unlatched the coop gate and continued to pull her into it. The chickens were out, and once they recognized them they started heading towards them, obviously expecting food.

  “I shall not tell you what I was thinking because you are just being an overbearing demanding beast of a man!” she teased.

  He smiled wickedly, “Then a beast I must be! Now, madam, this is your last chance, what made you giggle?” He took her shoulders in his hands firmly.

  She knew he was jesting and was quite enjoying this game. “Never!”

  “Well then, you have made your bed and now you must lay in it! Pun intended!”

  “Oh, good one! Richard would be proud of that little joke!”

  He tried to look serious. “Joke? Who said anything about a joke! I fully intend on throwing you in the mud. Last chance . . .”

  She laughed. “You already gave me a last chance. I can see that you are not the beast you think you are.”

  He laughed, tugging gently at her shoulders, but felt a very hard peck at the back of his calf. Startled, he lifted his foot, but then immediately slipped, pulling them both down into the mud and muck. He landed on his knees, but because he had used her to readjust his balance during the jump, she landed on her side. “Oh dear! I am so sorry! The rooster pecked at me and scared me.” Mortified, he reached for her shoulders again, this time in abject apology.

  “You beast!” She was still laughing, unhurt and not offended. Seeing he was only on his knees, she reached up and pushed him down onto his backside.

  His hands released her only to catch his fall. The mud was at least three inches deep, and squelched as he balanced tenuously against his fingers. He reached back for a handful and raised it in front of him. “I am the beast? At least what I did was an accident. Now, madam, you leave me no choice but to live up to the title. I shall be the beast you say I am.”

  Her eyes widened. He would not really— she flinched back, raising her arms up to protect herself. She yelled, “No! No! Somebody help! HELP!” But her cries were to no avail, for she soon found herself with a handful of mud on her face. She sputtered, gasping with laughter. He had actually rubbed the chicken mud on her skin! Shrieking, she leapt forward towards his hair with two handfuls of mud, and her body landed right on his chest.

  He let out a groan at feeling her sudden weight, moving quickly to catch his breath but losing his balance all the same. He fell neatly on his back amidst all the mud, but quickly rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

  “You villain! I insist that you release me!” she screamed, laughing at the same time.

  Although in his most private moments, Mr. Darcy had had many fantasies about rolling around with Elizabeth, he had never once imagined that mud might come into play. It was, however, not entirely unpleasant. In truth, it was all rather exciting. He laughed as well.

  “You will pay for your actions,” he said in the most dangerous voice he could muster. He was nearly ready to lean down and kiss her now, in spite of all his reservations, when he heard someone behind him.

  “Unhand the lady!”

  He looked behind them and saw Sparks, the farmhand. Sparks raised the pitchfork and held it menacingly. Darcy let out a laugh. “Sparks it is just I, Mr. Darcy. It appears my wife and I have fallen into the mud.” Sparks’ eyes got brighter and he lowered the pitchfork.

  Elizabeth pushed William off and
said, “Do not listen to him for one moment! That beast threw me in the mud! I insist we punish him! What say you Sparks? Should we feed him to the chickens?”

  Mr. Sparks had quickly learned to love Mrs. Darcy. She was so devoted to the chickens and they had spent many of moments talking about the work he did. He respected Mr. Darcy, but truly loved Mrs. Darcy. He raised the pitchfork again and tried not to smile at the scene in front of him. Now that he knew the lady wasn’t in distress, he could see the humor in it. They both had so much mud on themselves that he hadn’t recognized either one until they spoke. “I believe that we must! Should I stab him first so they can get at his innards?” Sparks asked.

  Mr. Darcy’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “Sparks? Is this where your loyalty lies? After all these years of serving me, three weeks with her is enough to change your mind altogether! I shall have to rethink that bonus I gave last Christmas! Better yet, I will tell your wife of your volatile heart and let you suffer her wrath! Mrs. Sparks will be loyal to me and she will insist on yours as well!” He started to get up but turned back to Elizabeth one last time. She was flat on her back in the mud, grinning. Her teeth gleamed white through the dirtiest face he had ever witnessed. He raised himself to one knee to stand and looked back at the grinning Sparks.

  Elizabeth saw an opportunity and quickly rose to her feet. He was kneeling, looking away from her, still gazing at Sparks. She gave him one good push from the back and saw him fall face first into the mud. She quickly ran for the gate and closed it behind her. “Hurry Sparks, I call on every ounce of strength in your body to get me out of range from that beast!”

  She laughed all the way back to the house. She had heard him call out something about “next time” but as the words were hard to hear, she chose to pay them little mind. As she neared the house, she realized that to walk into the house like this would be to invite the deep displeasure of Mrs. Reynolds. The reality of what just happened made her laugh again in spite of how improper it all was. She probably ruined her dress. She supposed she would have to answer to Serafina as well. She decided to enter through the servants’ quarters and get the help she needed there. She opened the door and called out, “Could I get some assistance?”

  Rebecca, a young maid, was absorbed in her task of folding linen when she heard the sound of her mistress’s voice. She paused, hands still full before she stepped over towards the door. She couldn’t imagine why the mistress would be in the servants’ quarters.

  “Oh Rebecca, please get me a wash rag and plenty of water. And please notify Serafina that I need a bath . . . maybe two.” She watched Rebecca’s expression transform from curiosity to alarm as she took in the state Elizabeth was in. Whatever horror I might inspire shall not change the fun I just had! Rebecca did as she was instructed, and soon Elizabeth heard a deep voice behind her.

  “And who might this be? Could it be the woman who pushed her poor husband in the mud?”

  She turned around to see a filthy Mr. Darcy and burst into laughter anew at the sight of him. He had used his fingers to wipe away the mud from his eyes and mouth, but every other inch of him was thick with mud. “Oh dear, I pushed a little hard that last time, did I not?” She giggled in spite of the twinge of guilt that came over her.

  He smiled widely. Even covered in mud she is the most beautiful woman in the world, perhaps more than ever. “You are giggling again? Do not worry, madam, I have learned my lesson. I will no longer ask you why you are giggling.”

  *****

  The two of them poured water over themselves over and over again until they were both dripping wet, but finally could declare themselves at least nominally clean. Elizabeth had to resist the temptation to hide behind her hands; the dampened muslin clung to her body in a way that concealed very little. But that wasn’t why her cheeks were flushed. Mr. Darcy had taken off his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat, and his once-white shirt was quite thin and soaked through to the skin. She had never noticed how masculine his person was before, and she kept finding herself stealing glances at his chest and arms. Her heart beat rapidly, and in spite of the chill of the water she was very warm. She was impressed that a man who did not do physical labor with his hands could have a chest shaped so handsomely.

  “Do I still have mud on me, or is there another reason you are studying me so intently?” He cleared his throat, unaware of what he was really saying. His mind was having a terrible time keeping to the task at hand.

  Elizabeth’s flush spread all the way to her ears. I have been caught looking at him in such a manner! “No, sir,” was all she could say. Her eyes did not stray in his direction again. Serafina wrapped a towel around her, and without another glance, they headed up for the real washing.

  She had learned to really love and respect Serafina. The time they spent together was valuable in more ways than one. Elizabeth found herself calmed by Serafina’s inner strength and fortitude. Every interaction left her spirits lighter and more at ease. Serafina also had a talent for making Elizabeth laugh, even during the most absurdly dramatic situation. She also seemed to genuinely care about the relationship between her and William. Today was no different.

  “He is a handsome man,” Elizabeth said, and then raised her hand to her mouth in surprise. She had not meant to speak aloud. Serafina smiled widely at her, continuing to help Elizabeth out of her soiled gown. “I am afraid I was caught looking at him, was I not?” She felt a blush coming to her cheeks again.

  “Do not fret, madam,” Serafina said reassuringly. “It is about time you two admitted how deeply you care for each other.”

  Elizabeth looked down, feeling a little embarrassed to be discussing such a topic. She had been correct, then, in her assumption that the servants, or at least Serafina, knew they had a precarious relationship. But the mud fight had broken down several rules of propriety, and she found she didn’t mind having Serafina talk so boldly to her. “Do you really think he cares so deeply for me?”

  Serafina’s hands stopped working, and she reached her hands around to turn Elizabeth’s head, looking her in the eye. “I cannot imagine him loving you any more than he does. Surely you see it too?”

  “I have to admit, that is,” Elizabeth said slowly, trying carefully to phrase it best, “I am beginning to suspect it, but he has never declared himself.” She felt like she was talking to Jane back home instead of her servant.

  “Men can only do one thing at a time. Their minds are simple. If we give them instructions, we must do so directly and clearly. They do not have complicated thoughts and feelings, which is why his adoration of you is evident. Have you made your feelings known to him?”

  “I have to confess that I am not sure of my feelings myself. I know that I respect him and look forward to being with him, and my heart flutters when I am near him and he makes me feel . . . warm and happy. Is that love?”

  “I cannot answer that for you. But I can advise you that if you wish to hear how he feels for you, you must be direct and clear. Men need to know exactly what we need from them. I must warn you that when you do decide upon your feelings, you may need to state your wishes directly.”

  Elizabeth pondered this advice. Perhaps she would ask him again directly why he married her. That was a direct question, and if he loved her, than he would tell her. “You are a fount of wisdom, Serafina,” she said with a quiet laugh. “Now let us get me clean. I doubt anyone could love me when I smell like this!”

  *****

  After a lengthy bath, Elizabeth dressed for the day anew in one of her new sprigged muslins. Just as Serafina finished with her hair, Elizabeth heard a familiar jovial laugh downstairs. She followed the sound downstairs. “Richard! I had forgotten you would arrive today!” She hurried down the stairs and embraced him. She had seen much of him in London, and had loved him from the beginning if only because he brought out the smiling eyes of her husband.

  “You wound me! What could possibly be so distracting that you forget your favorite cousin?”

  Elizabe
th colored. “Your beast of a cousin threw me in the mud!”

  He let out an enormous laugh. “That is a good one; what is the punch line?”

  Mr. Darcy walked in then, hair fresh and wet. “It is no joke, I am afraid. I really pushed her in the mud in the chicken coop.” He saw Richard’s eyes light up with mirth.

  “So you finally admit to it?” Elizabeth laughed. She reached her arm out for his and stood close to him, looking up at his now-clean face. She couldn’t suppress a faint giggle at the memory of him covered in mud.

  Mr. Darcy held out his hand to stop Richard from speaking. “Stop! I must warn you not to even attempt to uncover the source of her laughter, for this wife of mine is merciless in keeping her secrets!”

  Richard laughed again. He could tell there was quite a story behind the words. What amazed him more was seeing how engaging they were. He had seen them in London and worried that his cousin had married someone who was mercenary. It had been clear how Darcy felt about her, but Elizabeth didn’t seem to show the same level of admiration. Seeing her smile, tease, and hold Darcy’s arm like she was currently doing eased his fears a great deal. Perhaps it wasn’t an absence of love on her part after all. “A chicken coop? Which reminds me . . .”

  “Do not tell me you have a joke about a chicken coop?” Darcy groaned. Although, in truth, as much as he might protest, he did enjoy Richard’s jokes.

  “No, not about a coop. Do you want to know what happened to the chicken whose feathers were turned the wrong way or not?”

  Elizabeth smiled and said, “Yes, what happened to the chicken whose feathers were turned the wrong way?”

  “It got tickled to death!” He let out a roaring belly laugh, and was quickly joined by all present. Even Darcy laughed.

  As Georgiana hurried down the stairs, she called, “Why all the laughter? Did I miss the opening joke?” She rushed in to embrace Richard, and was quickly enveloped in his tender arms. She felt much of her tension drain away as she realized that she was now surrounded by her three favorite people. She tried to hold back the tears, but it seemed impossible to do so when surrounded by so much love.