Rose Cottage

by A K Madison

  Mary asked her intended if he had any volumes of Wordsworth in his collection of books, which sat in crates in the Netherfield library. He stood smilingly and offered her his arm.

  “Let us accompany them, Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth. “I left my book there when I returned to Rose Cottage after staying here.” The two betrothed couples recruited a maid to play propriety and prepared to spend a pleasant, rainy afternoon indoors. Bingley and Mr. Emerson, armed with stout umbrellas, prepared to escort the remaining Bennet ladies to Rose Cottage.

  When the two couples had entered the library, Darcy said, “I ask you for your indulgence as I write a few notes to friends and neighbors in Derbyshire informing them of the upcoming wedding. You three will doubtless wish to settle in our usual place by the windows. I shall join you there in a half-hour or so when I have finished.”

  Caroline, meanwhile, had found no rest in her bedchamber. She had lain down for a few minutes, but she was disturbed by a sense of urgency. She must protect Darcy from allying himself with this group of bumpkins and secure him for herself. The house would soon be full of company. A compromising situation would be ridiculously easy, and it would be witnessed by her own family.

  She rose, saw to her hair, and crept downstairs, finding only the butler in the front hall. “Where is Mr. Darcy?” she asked the taciturn old man.

  The butler, who disliked her, saw no reason to elaborate. “He is in the library, madam.”

  In the library, all was peace and silence for a quarter-hour or so, as everyone became absorbed in reading. Darcy, nearer the door, finished reading his correspondence and prepared to write a reply. The maid, Lucy, stifled a yawn. No one heard the door open on its well-oiled hinges, and no one heard the sound of the key in the well-oiled lock as Caroline secured it.

  She glided across the carpet, guided by the faint scratches of Darcy’s quill. When she stood behind him, she ran her finger up his neck with a suggestive air, and said, “You really should allow me to mend your pen, Mr. Darcy. I know you would be . . . satisfied with my work.”

  Darcy was on his feet in an instant, tipping over his chair and oversetting his inkwell. He began to raise his hand but checked it and shouted, “Damme, Miss Bingley! Will you never rest from your pestilential, annoying advances? Stand away from me!” His deep voice was raised to a volume that few had heard--and fewer still would want to hear. Randall, the Bennets, and the maid were at his side in an instant. Caroline shrank back.

  “You conceited, arrogant, disgraceful, bird-witted imbecile! Has it not dawned on you yet that you are the last woman on earth I could ever be persuaded to marry? I have tried to be gentlemanly. I have tried to be chivalrous. I have tried to spare your feelings. But you do not merit such effort. You have stalked me for years as if I were a choice specimen of big game. What were you planning to do, decapitate me and have my head mounted on the wall above a fireplace at Pemberley?”

  He began to pace. His shirt, waistcoat, and hands were soaked with ink. “You had best mark what I have to say and remember it, for I will not repeat it. Your twenty thousand pounds mean nothing to me. Your education is lacking, your accomplishments are shallow. You are unkind to those you consider beneath you, cruel and heartless to anyone you perceive to be standing in your way. You are incapable of getting along with anyone, much less of loving someone. Here are my last words on the subject, madam. I intend to marry the woman I love on Monday next, and you and all the powers of hell will not stop me.” At this he turned away.

  There had been loud knocks at the door and voices in the hall for some time. Randall spoke to Caroline. “I presume you have the key, madam. Give it to me.” She surrendered it without a word, and he went to the door. He allowed the family to enter and asked the butler to disperse the servants.

  Elizabeth had come to stand by Darcy. She took his arm despite the ink and refused to let him go.

  Bingley and Emerson had returned from their walk to Rose Cottage. “What has happened?” asked Bingley. A look of dread overspread his countenance.

  “Charles,” Caroline whimpered. “Mr. Darcy raised his hand to me."

  “No, he did not,” said Elizabeth. “We were here. We all saw it.”

  Randall spoke. “Mr. Darcy raised his arm as if to defend himself, then checked his movement and put his arm at his side. She startled him by attacking him from behind.”

  “That is precisely what occurred,” said Darcy. His eyes grew hard. “I will add this. Miss Bingley is a little too familiar for a maiden lady with the concept of mending a man’s pen. This is the second time she has offered to perform that service for me. This time she was quite explicit.”

  Elizabeth and Mary looked at each other, mystified, but the maid gave a small squeak, blushed to the roots of her hair, and covered her mouth with her hand. The two married ladies were also manifestly shocked. “Caroline!” cried Louisa Hurst. “How could you?”

  “Louisa!” Caroline was still whining, though people nearest her could see that her eyes were dry. “He said dreadful things to me. Just perfectly dreadful! He--he swore at me!”

  Louisa regarded her sister calmly. “It was just what you deserved.”

  This, at long last, was more than Caroline could bear. She collapsed, weeping. Emerson set a chair for her.

  “Is there anything else that any of you who were here wish to add?” Bingley spoke with as much authority as he could muster as if finally recalling that he was master of Netherfield.

  Randall looked at Mary, Elizabeth, and the maid. All three shook their heads. He spoke for the group. “No, Mr. Bingley. There is more, but it was largely Mr. Darcy giving voice to his frustration at what has apparently been repeated harassment. There is no need to humiliate Miss Bingley further. She has clearly brought this on herself, but we should spare her any additional embarrassment in front of the family. I shall speak with you privately if you wish--or perhaps Mr. Darcy will wish to speak with you.”

  By this time, Caroline was sobbing quietly into her handkerchief. Bingley spoke again. “Louisa, please escort Caroline up to her room. Jane, would you be good enough to go with her? And Lucy, please follow the ladies upstairs in case they require anything. I caution you against idle gossip. If you have concerns, you may speak with Mrs. Nicholls and no one else. Do you understand?” The girl nodded solemnly, bobbed a curtsy, and prepared to follow the three women out of the room.

  Caroline either could not or would not stand, and Emerson hastened to offer her his arm. “I shall support Miss Bingley upstairs,” he said.

  When the sad little procession was heard to start up the stairs, Bingley took up the conversation again. “Darcy, you will doubtless wish to go upstairs and change.” He laid a hand on Darcy’s arm. “Before you go, you must understand that you are not to blame for this. If anyone is at fault, I am. I have never been able to control her. I suppose that I have always been a little daunted by her. We are so different in our attitudes and temperaments. In any event, I hope that this will not jeopardize our friendship. In truth, I would understand if you never wanted to see me again. But some part of me hopes that we can hold fast to our friendship. Soon we shall be brothers.”

  Darcy suddenly looked tired, more tired than Elizabeth had ever seen him. “Bingley, I do not blame you for this. You cannot follow her around every minute. I do, however, hope that she can be persuaded that going to Bath is in her best interest.”

  “She will go to Bath if I have to drive her there myself. And while she is here, she will be confined to her rooms.”

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth and placed his hand over hers that was still lying on his arm. “I shall return in a few minutes, Elizabeth. I must make myself presentable.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I will be here.”

  Upstairs, Jane sent for laudanum and wine. “I shall mix her a composer,” she said, for Caroline had not stopped crying. Jane and Louisa got her into a nightgown, and when the maid returned, Jane mingled a small, measured dose of the drug with the wine, stirre
d it, and gave it to Louisa. “See if you can persuade her to drink this.” The composer did its work, and Caroline was soon asleep.

  Elizabeth sat with Randall and Mary in the library. None of them felt much like talking, and it was not long before Darcy returned, immaculately dressed and groomed. “I believe I had ink everywhere,” he said. “It will take a good while to scrub it completely from my hands, but I have made a start.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Would you care to accompany me on a walk in the garden? The sun appears to be trying to come out. In fact, perhaps we might all enjoy a walk.”

  Shortly afterward, the two couples strolled arm in arm through their favorite part of the garden. When Elizabeth and Darcy got to their niche in the hedge, they sat together on the bench while Randall and Mary continued to walk.

  “My poor Fitzwilliam. She has harried you for years.”

  “Ever since I made her acquaintance when Charles and I were at university. But she did not set her cap at me. She set it at Pemberley and at the prestige of capturing me and bearing me triumphantly off the battlefield. Still, I did not behave in a gentlemanlike manner, as you once put it.”

  “How could you? She needed to hear your message with perfect clarity, and you certainly carried your point.”

  “I had envisioned a dreadful midnight scene with the entire household assembled in their dressing-gowns. This was merciful by comparison.” He sighed. “Still, this evening will be somewhat of an ordeal, even though everyone is on my side. And our aunts and uncles will arrive tomorrow, with Georgiana.

  “Come and have supper at Rose Cottage this evening. Of course, it will just be a family Sunday supper, but we shall all be comfortable together. Mr. Randall may come along with Mary. We can forget about this for a short while. Do say you will come?”

  He leaned down and kissed her. “How could I refuse such an enchanting invitation? I shall go in and inform Jane, and you locate Mary and Randall. I suggest making a great deal of noise.”

  He stood and left for the house, and Elizabeth walked slowly down the path calling “Mary! Where are you?” as loudly as she could. She found the couple standing arm in arm looking out over the view. “Mr. Randall, I should like to invite you to an informal family supper at Rose Cottage. Our purpose is to divert Mr. Darcy from the cares of today. Please say you will come.”

  “Of course, I will come. Lead on.” He gallantly gave an arm to each lady, and when they met Darcy at the path to the cottage, he handed her to her betrothed.

  The next morning, the Hursts took Caroline and departed for London before breakfast. Darcy was already downstairs, and Hurst took him aside. “My sincerest apologies, Darcy. It appears that being cut by society in London was not enough to teach her a lesson. We are sorry to miss your wedding, but we are sorrier still for what happened. We plan to spend tonight in London and take her on to Bath the following morning.” He paused. “And Louisa and I of course wish you both very happy.”

  The two men bowed, but Caroline did not speak. Darcy was spared her company for several years after that, though eventually she did marry an impoverished baronet, and eventually they formed a distant, but cordial, association.

  The mood at Netherfield brightened considerably at midday with the arrival of two carriages and a large coach laden with baggage and servants. Everyone was on hand to greet the Earl and Countess, Georgiana, and the Gardiners, who had formed a caravan to make the journey. Elizabeth, standing between Darcy and her mother, was heard to remark, “Now the celebration can truly begin.”

  Chapter 27

  “Happy is the bride the sun shines on, my little Lizzy.” Mrs. Hill’s voice awakened Elizabeth just after sunrise on her wedding day. “I was the first person after your Mama to hold you on the day you were born, and now I am the first to greet you on your wedding day.” The housekeeper busied herself with setting out the items on the breakfast tray so that Elizabeth would not see the tears that stood in her eyes. “Come now, eat hearty. You will need your strength.”

  Elizabeth’s sisters came in with Susan to help her bathe and dress in her gown of primrose muslin with its matching spencer. Lydia and Kitty had found no fault with the new straw bonnet. Her mother brought in a bouquet of the yellow and white primroses and daffodils that carpeted the woods and garden around Rose Cottage. She, too, wiped away tears. “Lizzy, you are marrying a man who loves you and whom you love. There can be no greater happiness.”

  The final touch was a gift from Darcy, a coral necklace of two strands closed at the front by a gold clasp resembling two clasped hands. This and the matching earrings were her only jewelry. She had his accompanying note in her reticule and would keep it always in her jewel box with the necklace itself:

  My dearest Elizabeth,

  These belonged to my mother, given as a betrothal gift by my father. It would please me greatly if you would wear them tomorrow. When next I see your dear face, and hold your hand in mine, we will be standing together before the altar. I love you. I will love you forever.

  FD

  Her mother and sisters pronounced her perfect and scattered to their own chambers to dress. When they reassembled, the girls were wearing all the colors of early spring: rose, pale green, and soft blue. Jane came upstairs, and she, too, had laid aside her mourning.

  The two sisters embraced, and the door opened to admit Mary, who was to be bridesmaid. “Jane, you are needed downstairs. Everyone is here, and Uncle Gardiner is waiting.” There was time only for a flurry of kisses and embraces, and she and Mary were being handed into the carriage that would take them to the church.

  Darcy, standing ready with Bingley at the front of the church, felt a mixture of relief and anticipation, a little like a runner who knows that nothing now stands between him and the finish of the race. He was anticipating the wedding night, but it did not occupy the chief portion of his thoughts. He would spend the rest of his life with Elizabeth Bennet, the woman he loved more than life itself. He would look into her fine eyes, draw his strength from her, raise a family with her, grow old with her. Dr. Price touched his arm. Darcy’s eyes were wet as he stood tall and watched Elizabeth enter the church on the arm of her uncle.

  Elizabeth felt a nervous flutter as she started down the aisle, and it was not from the family watching and admiring her. She loved Fitzwilliam Darcy with all her heart. Would she be a good wife to him? Would their daily life together be a comfort to both? She only knew that she could no longer imagine a future or a life that he was not a part of. She imagined Uncle Gardiner could hear her heart thumping, and indeed he gently patted her hand, but she kept her eyes fixed on Darcy’s own and smiled as she walked slowly to meet him. When their intentions had been declared, her uncle placed her hand in her beloved’s, and the nervous flutter grew quiet and ceased.

  Elizabeth tried to give the vows her undivided attention, aware of their solemnity and meaning. But she was most aware of the warmth of Darcy’s hand and his solid, comforting presence. He kissed the ring before he placed it on her finger, and she smiled up at him, silently thanking him.

  Then, quite suddenly, it was over. The clerk was overseeing the signing of the register, then everyone was talking, and they turned, smiling at their loved ones and each other. Darcy, who had tried to concentrate on the words of the service and was now thinking only of his wife, was suddenly confronted by the sight of friends, neighbors, and family wishing them joy. It warmed his heart, and he pulled Elizabeth a little closer.

  The wedding-breakfast had been regarded by both Darcy and Elizabeth as something that had to be gotten through, but Darcy’s sense of being among true friends grew, and with it the amiability that so few people had the pleasure of knowing. The two hours that followed saw many toasts drunk to the newlyweds and many happy greetings. Elizabeth warmed to her husband even more, because he had relaxed and was in his element with a gracious word to everyone he saw.

  Eventually, Darcy gently compelled Elizabeth to sit in a chair in a secluded corner. He returned with a plate laden with a
sandwich, a little pile of fresh strawberries, and an orange from Pemberley, carefully peeled and sectioned to look like a flower. Tears sprang to Elizabeth’s eyes. “This is very much like the plate you fixed for me after papa’s funeral. You do take such good care of me, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Well, Mrs. Darcy. We have a long ride ahead of us. I suggest you fortify yourself for it.” He disappeared and returned with a similar plate for himself, and Mrs. Hill followed with two glasses of wine. When they had finished eating, the word went up that their carriage was drawn up out front, and it was time for them to take their leave. Tender farewells and heartfelt thanks were whispered to their friends and families. He handed her into his well-appointed carriage, and they were off for London.

  The day was pleasant, not too warm but with abundant sunshine. Darcy, who had started the journey seated opposite Elizabeth, soon moved over to share the ladies’ bench with her. He saw the tears standing in her eyes and said, “We will see them all very soon. We must make plans to entertain them at Pemberley after we have settled in.” He handed her his handkerchief and said, “So you may keep your wedding handkerchief pristine.”

  This caused Elizabeth to smile a somewhat watery smile, and she was soon comfortably settled against him. When they reached the London road, Darcy drew the window-shades, discarded his own hat, and gently removed her bonnet. He placed his fingertips under her chin and tilted her face up before bringing his lips gently to hers. As had become his great pleasure, he anticipated her wordless signal that she wanted more. This time she astonished him with a kiss that was considerably more demanding. She knelt beside him on the seat and threw her arms around his neck. He could not help but respond in kind, leaning back and pulling her onto his lap. When they finally stopped to breathe, he laughed with delight.

  “I did not intend for that to be amusing, Mr. Darcy.”