“Oh! I knew how it would be!” she cried. “You must take after me, Lizzy, for I was with child in no time at all after my marriage to your father. You have done your duty to your husband very well, indeed. Now, if you can just give him a son, then I am sure Mr. Darcy would not mind in the least if you were to tell him you do not wish to do it again.”
Elizabeth was grateful Georgiana was, at that precise moment, engaged in earnest conversation with Lydia and Mary on the other side of the room, especially after she heard her father add dryly, “I would certainly not count on that, my dear, if I were you.” He then retreated behind his paper with a throat-clearing and did not emerge until the end of the visit. Elizabeth blushed.
Upon their return to Netherfield, Elizabeth and Georgiana were astounded to see Miss Bingley’s earlier civility—though whether forced or sincere, they had yet to determine—had survived the course of several hours. Their hostess made a concerted effort at small talk without insulting or disparaging Elizabeth even once, showing the mistress of Pemberley every courtesy in her power. Georgiana made a point of observing Miss Bingley carefully, and upon noticing her staring at Darcy and Elizabeth with what could only be described as an unfathomable expression upon her face, she became even more bewildered by her behavior. Georgiana could detect nothing malicious or calculating in Miss Bingley’s manner, however, so only exchanged a confused look with her brother.
Even Darcy could not find fault with Miss Bingley’s conduct, though it did continue to baffle him, as well. He could hardly credit this sudden change in his friend’s sister, but it did not necessarily follow that he did not appreciate the effort it certainly must have cost her.
* * *
By the time the hour of the ball arrived, the house had become flooded with guests, all of whom were eager to enjoy what promised to be a delightful evening. To the four-and-twenty families who resided in the neighborhood were added the many friends and family members who had come from various distances to attend the wedding. Among them was a Mr. Brewster, a young man of three-and-twenty who was to perform the office of standing up with Bingley. He was quiet and seemed somewhat reserved, but very agreeable all the same. His handsome looks and reported income of three thousand a year immediately captured the interest of all the young ladies in attendance, but very much like another taciturn gentleman before him, he had very soon settled his eyes on only one.
“Miss Lydia,” said Bingley, “allow me to present my very good friend, Mr. John Brewster of Scarborough. Brewster, this is Miss Lydia Bennet, my dear Jane’s youngest sister.”
Mr. Brewster bowed to her. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Lydia, and if you are not otherwise engaged, might I request the honor of dancing the next with you?”
Lydia smiled and inclined her head. “Thank you, sir. I am not engaged.”
He offered her his arm, and they made their way to the center of the room. “You reside in Scarborough, then, Mr. Brewster?” she asked.
“Yes, but my family is originally from Brighton. It is where I passed most of my youth.”
“Brighton, you say? How wonderful! You must tell me all about it, sir, for I have always longed to go to Brighton.”
Mr. Brewster could not help but smile at her enthusiasm. The music began, and they proceeded down the dance in happy conversation.
* * *
Later that night, Darcy paced the length of Bingley’s study. “All I am saying, Bingley, is you should have consulted with either Mr. Bennet or myself before you took it upon yourself to make the introduction. Lydia is still recovering from what can only be described as a nightmare. She has told me she is reluctant to remain here with her own family because she fears society’s censure, although, I confess, I am somewhat relieved to hear it. She has changed in the last two months, much for the better. She is no longer thoughtless and wild, thank God. Elizabeth and Georgiana have been an excellent influence on her, quite the opposite of her own mother, I must say.”
Bingley took a long sip of port and sighed. “I cannot disagree with you, Darcy, and perhaps I should have first approached her father—especially considering the circumstances of late—but John Brewster is a very great friend. I have known him nearly half my life, and I can say with all honesty he is one of the most respectable gentlemen of my acquaintance. His intentions are honorable. He certainly will not take advantage of Miss Lydia.”
“No. Perhaps not, but what if they form an attachment? What if Lydia one day feels compelled to confide in him her ordeal with Wickham? Is he the type of man who might abandon her and destroy all her hopes after his honor has become engaged? I hate to admit it, but even the most honorable man would be a fool not to think twice before offering for her after hearing such a confession.”
Bingley stared at him. “You are behaving much like a mother hen trying to protect her chick, Darcy. They have danced only two dances together. I hardly think that constitutes an offer of marriage.”
“Yes, they danced two dances but spent the remainder of the night in conversation. Other than you, Mr. Bennet, Mr. Gardiner, and myself, Lydia danced not one single dance with any other gentleman—not that it would have been prudent, in any case, but you must remember how fond she is of dancing.” With a loud exhalation, he raked his hands through his hair and muttered, “Forgive me, Bingley, but I cannot like it. It makes me uneasy.”
Bingley chuckled. “I truly feel for you, my friend. You now find yourself in the unsavory position of caring for two very young, very impressionable, and very pretty ladies who, for all intents and purposes, are not yet out, and you are feeling the full weight of it.” With a grin, he raised his glass. “For the sake of your sanity, Darcy, I do sincerely hope Elizabeth will give you a son.”
Darcy closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he muttered, “Yes. I cannot but agree.”
* * *
The wedding the following day was all that was elegant and delightful. It came as no surprise that Jane, a very beautiful woman, made an equally beautiful bride. While Elizabeth’s wedding gown had been declared exquisite by all who had attended her wedding to Darcy, it was almost deceptively simple in comparison to Jane’s, which was much closer to what society had come to anticipate from the blushing bride of a gentleman of no insignificant means. Nearly every inch of Jane’s glorious silk gown was covered in imported Belgian lace, and though not quite to Elizabeth’s personal taste, the gown her dearest Jane had chosen—or, more appropriately, her mother—certainly succeeded in flattering the new Mrs. Bingley’s elegant figure, to which Mr. Bingley’s steadfast gazes and dreamy expressions were a constant testament.
The wedding breakfast was held at Netherfield, where the bride and groom were to spend their wedding night before leaving to tour some of England’s southern regions. Out of respect for the newly married couple, the many guests and relations who had arrived the day before and had spent the night—the Darcys included—soon made their farewells to the newlyweds and departed.
Mrs. Bennet was quite put out that Darcy would not consent to stay for a fortnight or two at Longbourn. She had been informed by her husband just that morning that Lydia was to travel to London with the Darcys and then on to Derbyshire, where she would remain for the next two months at least. Mrs. Bennet attempted to persuade her second-eldest daughter to use her influence with her husband, but to no avail. In fact, Elizabeth took great pleasure informing her mother that, in this particular instance, Darcy would not be swayed. He was anxious to return to his beloved Pemberley, where he had not set foot for the better part of a year. He was also looking forward to introducing Elizabeth to what was now her home, and extremely desirous of doing it before she could no longer be expected to make such an arduous trip. Assuming the weather was fit for travel, it would likely take them two or three days to reach Derbyshire, even from London. Darcy and Georgiana could barely contain their enthusiasm.
The Darcys and Lydia spent the following week in Town, taking their leave of the Gardiner
s, the Fitzwilliams, and certain close acquaintances, packing their trunks, and closing up Darcy House before finally departing for Derbyshire. The journey was long, tedious, and exhausting. Once again, Darcy found himself sitting opposite Elizabeth, but managed to force himself to pass the time more constructively by reading, which he did with only an occasional glance of longing directed toward his wife. Elizabeth chatted with her sisters while she attempted to work on some embroidery, which proved rather challenging while she sat in a constantly rocking carriage. She gave it up after their first day on the road in favor of a new book of sonnets Darcy had procured for her while in London. Georgiana was ill once, but not seriously so, forcing the party to stop earlier than expected for the day. By that time, Darcy had been more than ready to alight from the confines of the carriage and whisk his enticing wife away to the privacy of their adjoining rooms.
After three full days of traveling, they arrived at Pemberley. Darcy instructed the driver to stop the coach at a certain spot where the house could be viewed to particular advantage by all within, and Elizabeth’s head reeled as she beheld the splendor of Pemberley House for the first time. Never before had she seen a house more happily situated or for which nature had done more.
“Lord, Lizzy!” Lydia laughed. “To think you are now mistress of all this!”
Elizabeth smiled at Darcy, who had been observing her reaction to her new home. He leaned forward to grasp her hand and asked, “Do you approve, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth gave a soft, delighted laugh and said, “Oh, yes. Very much. I believe there are very few who would not approve.”
“Perhaps,” he said as his gaze caressed her with a look of love and just a hint of mischief, “but your good opinion is so rarely bestowed and, therefore, more worth the earning.”
She laughed aloud and swatted his arm. “You are incorrigible,” she chided.
Lydia and Georgiana smiled, and Darcy laughed. “Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy,” he said. In the next instant, he rapped upon the roof of the carriage, and the driver urged the horses forward once again. They were soon well on their way to the house, where Elizabeth would now pass the rest of her days, most agreeably, she suspected, as mistress of a very grand estate.
Chapter 33
To Elizabeth, and no doubt to those before her who had received the pleasure of setting foot in Pemberley House, the building’s interior did not disappoint. Very much like their beautiful home in Grosvenor Square, the house—even with its imposing scale and obvious grandeur—reflected the refined elegance and partiality for comfort she had come to expect from her husband.
The main foyer, which held an outrageous number of servants assembled to welcome their master and new mistress home, was massive. It took Elizabeth several moments to overcome her awe and collect herself so she could properly address everyone before her. It was not difficult to see that they had been waiting eagerly—and with more than a little trepidation—to finally glimpse the lady who, it was rumored, had captured their master’s heart. Elizabeth greeted them warmly, and her easy manners earned genuine smiles from many.
Amongst them was a kind-looking elderly lady whom Darcy introduced to Elizabeth as Pemberley’s long-time housekeeper. Though not at all similar in appearance to the plump Mrs. Hildebrandt, Mrs. Reynolds had a motherly look about her all the same. It was apparent to the new Mrs. Darcy, who had observed the warm manner with which they had greeted each other, there existed a great fondness between the slender lady and Pemberley’s master that transcended the bounds of the traditional roles of master and servant.
After making the necessary introductions, Darcy—with a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth—escorted his wife to their private apartments. As they walked arm in arm through Pemberley’s splendid halls, visions of Elizabeth as she reclined upon the enormous bed in the master’s chambers pervaded his thoughts. It took some effort on Darcy’s part to keep his eagerness in check and, thus, his dignity intact before the servants. So overjoyed was he to finally have Elizabeth with him at Pemberley, where he had long pictured her at his side, even before he had declared himself to her, that Darcy found it nearly impossible to restrain himself from sweeping her up in his arms and taking the stairs two at a time. Instead, he contented himself with bestowing several passionate and private looks upon his wife, which communicated to her his mood on the occasion.
They reached the mistress’s chamber first, and as Elizabeth moved about the elegant apartment, Darcy’s heart overflowed with happiness. He studied her with great satisfaction and pleasure as her eyes took in all that was now hers. It was by no small feat he had managed to force himself to remain in one spot rather than following her throughout the rooms like a calf-eyed young pup. The awed expression upon his wife’s face, in Darcy’s opinion, rendered her utterly enchanting. When Elizabeth finally turned to give him a breathtaking smile, he stepped forward to place his hand upon the small of her back as he offered comments on certain objects and furnishings, and encouraged her to make any changes she might wish. After restraining himself for a full five minutes, Darcy finally gave in to the impulse to gather Elizabeth in his arms and kiss her. What began as an innocent embrace soon flared into an expressive display of passion as Darcy’s hands began to roam over his wife’s body.
Far too soon—and much to his irritation—there came a knock upon the sitting room door, and Darcy tore his lips from those of his wife with a sound of frustration. He rested his forehead against hers and attempted to subdue his desire. After a few moments, he kissed her once more before stepping away. “Enter.”
Blushing, Georgiana appeared from behind the closed door, cleared her throat, and said, “Forgive my intrusion, Fitzwilliam, but I thought you and Elizabeth would like to know that supper will be served in an hour.”
“Thank you, Georgiana. Will you and Lydia not rest yourselves until then in your rooms? Our journey today was rather taxing. I would not wish for either of you to tire yourselves unduly.”
Georgiana giggled. “I believe we shall both rest quietly until we must go down to dinner. You need not concern yourself with entertaining us, Brother. We have become quite capable of amusing ourselves in your absence.”
Darcy gave her a stern look and she left quickly, her mirth barely in check. Scowling, Darcy took Elizabeth in his arms and said, “I do believe my sister has been just as much influenced by Lydia as Lydia has been by her these past months. I am yet uncertain whether I approve of her newfound impertinence.”
A smile graced Elizabeth’s lips as she slid her hands to his shoulders and beyond to bury her fingers within his thick curls. “I am very surprised to hear that, for I have long been under the impression that you approve of impertinent young women and hold them in nothing but the highest esteem. I believe I have even heard you, on occasion, pronounce one such lady to be uniformly charming.”
“You, my dearest, are the only woman whose impertinence and teasing I have ever found charming,” he growled as he captured her lips with his. “I cannot but approve of the way you tease me, for if you did not, I fear I would be far too serious and ill-humored far too much of the time.”
She returned his kiss with some feeling. “Mmm… I cannot argue with that. I can recall just such a time, though not with as much clarity as I once might have, and although I found you equally as handsome then as I do now, I would not wish to have you so serious and grave again. You see, sir, you are utterly irresistible when you smile.”
Darcy did smile then, and tugged Elizabeth toward the door that led from her rooms to the master’s chambers. “Then I would have it no other way. Come, Elizabeth. You must be terribly tired after your journey. Perhaps you should rest yourself.” His tone was teasing.
Elizabeth laughed at his blatant attempt to seduce her so soon after their arrival, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I assure you, Fitzwilliam, I am not the least bit tired; however, I might be persuaded to partake of some exercise if you would consent to join me.”
A wide smil
e overspread Darcy’s features as he led her into his apartment and kicked the door closed with his foot.
* * *
Elizabeth’s first week at Pemberley, while enjoyable, passed far too quickly for her liking. After the rigors of traveling for so many days—which included all the amenities being confined to what coaches and country inns could possibly afford—she rejoiced at being able to retire each night to the comfort of her own bed, or rather, the incomparable luxury of her husband’s. Her sleep being sound, Elizabeth rose early each morning to partake of a quick breakfast before she would steal away from the house with Darcy. As Derbyshire was so far north, its inhabitants were still experiencing the chill of winter, but the two lovers cared not. They wandered the grounds for hours, oftentimes losing themselves in the pleasure being at Pemberley afforded them. Elizabeth was so happy to be out-of-doors with just Darcy to accompany her.
Darcy was elated to finally have Elizabeth with him at his ancestral home, which meant almost as much to him as the woman he loved. Not even a blizzard, he suspected, could deter him from showing his wife as much of the grounds and surrounding woods as could be seen on foot without her becoming unduly fatigued.
The following week demanded that Darcy return to his duties as Pemberley’s master, which entailed lengthy talks with his steward, daily rides to survey the estate, and meeting with tenants to resolve any concerns or disputes. Added to this list were many frequent and detailed exchanges with his solicitors, both in London and abroad. Elizabeth filled the hours of her husband’s absence by familiarizing herself with the layout of the house, learning the names of the staff, and acquainting herself with the inner workings of the household. She soon found she had much to learn, and just as the running of Longbourn could hardly approach the complexity of Darcy House in London, so Darcy House and its operation paled in comparison to that of Pemberley.
Truth about Mr. Darcy Page 36