“That is hardly the reaction I seek when holding a woman so close.”
“I do not mean to imply that you are not handsome, just that you are in need of rest.”
“I can assure you, madam, I know what I need at this moment, and it is not sleep.” That said, he slowly brought his lips to hers and began to kiss her in a manner that left no doubt of his enthusiasm for the endeavor. They separated when they heard Bingley’s voice indicating that the carriage had arrived. He rested his forehead on hers and asked, “So, does that mean that you find me handsome when I am rested?”
Laughing, she replied, “What an insufferable question! Are you so unsure of my regard that you need such assurances after I have already agreed to be your wife?”
While attempting to restrain a chuckle, he replied, “One would think not. But your unwillingness to answer does not bode well either.”
“If you must hear me say the words, then I think your only option is to get some real rest and see my reaction.”
Openly laughing at her reply, he reluctantly led her to the carriage.
Chapter 21
THE MISTRESS OF PEMBERLEY
Despite Darcy’s promise to obtain rest, he was at Elizabeth’s door with Georgiana at daybreak, prepared to depart. Like Bingley, Darcy had opted to ride alongside the carriages to provide more space for the ladies. When they arrived in Cheapside, Elizabeth had hoped to introduce Darcy and Bingley to her aunt and uncle without fanfare, but the transition was too much for her mother to bear silently, and Elizabeth was relieved when she was back in Darcy’s carriage with only Georgiana and Jane.
As they arrived at Darcy’s townhouse, Elizabeth was astounded at how nervous she was. She had attempted to prepare herself for the grandeur of his home—trying as she might to envision it someday as her own. Once inside, her fears subsided. Darcy’s housekeeper, Mrs. Larsen, was such a sensible and kindly woman that Elizabeth immediately felt relaxed in her company. Refreshment magically appeared, and before she knew it, Elizabeth was feeling renewed and content. Darcy seemed eager to show Elizabeth and Jane around, and after Mrs. Larsen quietly confirmed in which rooms the women were to be settled, he began the tour with Bingley escorting Jane.
Elizabeth listened intently as Darcy explained the history of the house. He spoke well, and she soon felt the tangible impact of the prior inhabitants on the evolution of the house. Darcy told Elizabeth that he wanted her to feel free to redecorate any room she wished without concern for the cost and that the same would be true at Pemberley. She immediately told him that she sincerely found nothing wanting in all that she had seen. After debating the issue, Darcy relented, saying, “Well, you will at least want to refurbish the suite you will occupy when you are mistress of the house? Let me bring you there next.” As they examined the spacious and well-appointed master suite, Darcy opened the various doors leading off it, including what would someday be Elizabeth’s dressing room and her private sitting room. As he opened the door to his adjoining room, she did not resist the temptation to glimpse his private sanctuary. She could not see much, other than to get a sense that it had a warm, masculine air. She and Jane were then brought to their rooms in order to freshen up for dinner, which was a quiet affair given the lateness of the hour.
As Elizabeth dressed the next morning, Mrs. Larsen arrived with a breakfast tray containing fresh fruits, cream, and tea. Elizabeth thanked her for her thoughtfulness.
“It was the master’s idea. He too is an early riser and thought you might appreciate some tea while you dressed. Your sister and Georgiana are not yet up, but he thought you might be.”
Smiling at his thoughtfulness, she asked, “Has Mr. Darcy had breakfast?”
Shaking her head, Mrs. Larsen replied, “No, he needed to meet with his steward over several pressing matters, and they began very early this morning. He asked that he be told when you came down though, as he hoped to see you before you left to shop with your mother.”
“That would be lovely. I think I will see my sister after I finish here and then go down.”
“Miss Bennet,” added Mrs. Larsen, “the master also asked that I make an appointment with you, at your leisure, to go over the running of the house. We both want to ensure that everything is to your satisfaction.”
“Mrs. Larsen, I would be delighted to have you show me how the house is managed, but only so that you can tell me if there is anything I can do to help you. I know that you have been taking care of Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy for a very long time, and I would never imagine that I could attempt it with better results.”
With sincere appreciation in her voice, Mrs. Larsen said, “Thank you, miss, you are too kind. But it is soon to be your house, and it is my job to make sure you are happy here.”
Smiling, Elizabeth replied, “I know that I will be. We can meet, but only so that you can show me what to do, not the other way around. Would today before tea be convenient?”
It had been decided that Bingley would host the entire Bennet party and the Darcys on their first full night in London. Elizabeth felt all the discomfort attendant in having to see Bingley’s sisters again. Her mother’s fawning over Mr. Bingley’s furnishings did not help the matter, but her real concern was for Darcy, who looked even more tired. She had only seen him for a few minutes at breakfast and then later at tea, apologizing on both occasions for not being able to stay and explaining that several estate matters he had put off during his trip now needed immediate attention.
As Elizabeth watched him discreetly rub his forehead as her mother went on about the purchases they had made that day, she wished she could give him some form of comfort but understood it was impossible. Elizabeth knew that he had never really rested from his trip and could not help but notice the change in him since his arrival. His time here did not seem to be his own, and the weight of his responsibilities was a tangible force. She suddenly understood how lucky they both had been to have had so much uninterrupted time together in Hertfordshire. She wondered how often in his life he had allowed himself such pleasure. However infrequent, he now seemed intent on paying a penance for having enjoyed himself so freely. Despite his fatigue, she was happy to see that he seemed to have genuinely enjoyed making the Gardiners’ acquaintance, and she was glad she had at least some members of her family for whom she need not blush.
The next day Darcy was to host her family for dinner after they finished shopping in the late afternoon. To accomplish this, Darcy had arranged for his business to be commenced at first light so that it might be concluded before tea.
Elizabeth used the time to meet with Mrs. Larsen again. The more time she spent with her, the more Elizabeth was impressed with the older woman’s organizational skills and her attention to detail. While Elizabeth had some minor suggestions, she came to realize that even though she would assume responsibility for the running of the household upon her marriage to Darcy, the staff was so adept at seeing to his needs that her oversight was hardly necessary. Before she finished her interview with Mrs. Larsen, Elizabeth quietly asked a question that had been on her mind. “Does Mr. Darcy always keep such hours? He seems to be busy almost around the clock.”
The older woman surveyed the younger woman’s worried features for a moment before speaking. “There are times when his schedule is very regular. But when there is a problem that needs his attention, like the one that is now occupying his time, he devotes himself to its resolution with all his energy while still seeing to his other responsibilities as well. Rather than renege on any of his commitments, he simply works longer hours so that he disappoints no one. During those times, his schedule is very erratic and the staff attempts to help him the best they can. I sometimes think he takes on more than he should, but it is not my place to make such judgments. He is the master of the house.”
Elizabeth nodded her understanding as Mrs. Larsen continued on to review the plans for the next two days. Elizabeth’s mother, sisters, and the Gardiners were to arrive by teatime. The Bingley party was expected
before dinner. The following day, Darcy was to meet with his solicitor by breakfast, and then join Georgiana and Elizabeth in the afternoon when the colonel was scheduled to arrive. Thereafter, Mr. Darcy had arranged for the entire party to attend the opera and dine together afterward.
Later that day, as Elizabeth walked by Darcy’s door on the way to tea, she was startled to see the door open and its owner emerge. Upon seeing Elizabeth, Darcy broke into an unreserved smile. He immediately looked both ways and, seeing no one else in the hallway, pulled her in through a door that was clearly designed to blend into the pattern of the wall. Once the door was shut behind them and she had stopped laughing at his impetuous behavior, she asked, “Where have you taken me?”
Slowly smiling at her, he deeply intoned, “Away from everyone else.”
With her eyes dancing, she asked, “I can see that, but where exactly is this, and what do you hope to accomplish?”
“It is just the servant’s entrance to my room. Only my valet uses it, and I just sent him on an errand. What I hope to accomplish is a moment alone with you. It has been all I have desired since we arrived, and it seemed that I was destined to be denied it.”
As she looked at him, about to give an impertinent reply, his serious look stopped her. Instead of kissing her, he held her tenderly and exhaled deeply. She intuitively understood that, at that moment, he seemed to need her warmth and support more than anything else. She put her hand behind his head to hold him close and inhaled his scent. She could feel the stress in his body as he seemed to hold her ever tighter. After a moment though, he reluctantly let her go. The strain of the last few days was evident on his brow. With a sad smile, he said, “I suppose we must leave before we are missed. I will go back to my room. Elizabeth, you should go back out the way you came. No one will see.”
“Certainly, but, Fitzwilliam, you do not seem yourself. Are you feeling well?”
With a weary smile, he replied, “I am fine. I just have a lot to accomplish in the next few days. Once that is over, I will have more time to be with you. I hope I have not been neglecting you.”
“Hardly, my mother and both of our sisters have kept me so busy, I could not have seen you had you been free. But I am concerned about you. Could you not rearrange your schedule so that you have a little more time to rest?”
“No, I am afraid not. I need to solidify things with my solicitor within a day or two, and we have the opera tomorrow night.”
“Could we not reschedule it?”
“No, everything is set, and I think both our families would be disappointed if they did not have the opportunity to attend. There is no reason for concern. I am just a little tired. There will be time to rest later.”
The dinner at Darcy’s townhouse was truly an elegant affair. As Elizabeth watched the staff work in unison to present a seamless meal, she was again impressed with Mrs. Larsen’s capabilities. The evening was such a success that the guests seemed in no hurry to leave. While Elizabeth normally would have felt immense relief over how well the evening was received, her thoughts were centered on Darcy.
When he had escorted her into dinner, his hand was clammy, and she noticed he hardly ate his meal. When he walked her out after dinner, she could see how pale he was and that there was a light sheen of perspiration on his brow. Despite the obvious toll that the evening was taking on him, he executed his duties as host without any indication of his distress.
As the evening continued on without any sign of abating, it was Elizabeth who rose to declare her intent to retire. Her announcement was received with a raised eyebrow from Miss Bingley, but it had the desired effect. Soon everyone began taking their leave. Rather than going to her room, however, Elizabeth discreetly sought out Mrs. Larsen and then her aunt.
***
Darcy lay back in his bed and pulled the covers close around him as he attempted to read one of the documents his solicitor had prepared. He knew there was no use. He was far too sick to read anything. He had felt a slight fever coming on before dinner and had attempted to ignore it, but it had only gotten worse. He could barely wait to return to his room so that he could lie flat. If his valet had not helped him undress, he would have slept in his clothes. He knew that he was so exhausted that he needed to give in to the call of sleep if he was to make his morning appointment with his solicitor and steward. As he heard his valet reenter again, he called to him without opening his eyes, “Thank you, Robert, but I require nothing further this evening. I think all I need is some sleep.”
“I am glad to hear that you still have enough sense about you to know that at least. One might wonder why it has taken you so long to realize it.” Upon hearing her voice, Darcy sat bolt upright in his bed, trying to see into the far end of the room, where the candles shed very little light. He was unsure if his fever was making him hallucinate.
As Elizabeth walked forward holding a tray, his question was answered. As he beheld her, his mind was full of so many conflicting thoughts. He had fantasized about her coming to his room so many times that her presence now almost seemed natural, but the circumstances of this reality rang a note of discordance. In his dreams he was not sick, and the worry of their being discovered had never crossed his mind. He was surprised to realize that, besides desire, he also felt a strong surge of protectiveness for her, knowing what she was risking by coming, and he struggled to understand her purpose. Unable in his current state of exhaustion to coherently voice his thoughts, he confusedly asked, “Elizabeth, what are you… Why…?”
“Am I here?” she answered for him in an arched manner. “An excellent question, and since I am clearly trespassing in a most inappropriate manner, I promise to explain it to you in full. But before I do, will you tell me how you are feeling? How you are truly feeling?”
“I am fine,” he replied quickly. Seeing her look of impatience, he relented. “I have a slight fever and it has made me tired, but I am otherwise fine.”
Coming to rest on the edge of his bed, Elizabeth set the tray down with a furrowed brow. He was hot to the touch, and his hair felt damp. She began to push his curls off his brow and gently massage his temples. Her ministrations were so soothing that he immediately gave in to them and laid his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. After resting a minute, he felt some of the tension leave his body, and he instinctively moved his head to kiss her hand. The tinge of excitement he felt when he found his target suddenly brought him back to the present—and all of his questions back to the forefront of his clouded mind.
Looking at her with a puzzled gaze, he tried to formulate what to say or even ask. Seeing his struggle, she volunteered an answer. “I came because I am worried about you. As you can also see, I brought you some wet cloths to help with your fever, and I asked Mrs. Larsen for some broth. I noticed at dinner that you hardly ate. I told her it was to settle my own stomach. I think you should eat some. I also brought some tea with a little brandy mixed in. I would often prepare such a drink for my father when he felt an illness coming on, to help him get a good night’s sleep.”
Beholding her with the most tender gaze, he slowly said, “Elizabeth, while I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness in coming here and all of this,” indicating her tray, “it is not necessary. I am just feeling a little under the weather. I will be fine tomorrow. Also, you must know that I have people to take care of such things. You need not wait on me. Besides, if your goal is to help me rest, I think your plan ill-advised. Your presence here is quite provocative, and I am suddenly feeling anything but sleepy. I know that your intentions are pure, but mine may not be so.”
Laughing at him, she gently put the cloth on his head and said, “I felt certain enough of the state of your health to know I have nothing to fear. In your condition, I doubt you could lift your head from the pillow.”
Slowly smiling, he replied, “I would not be so sure.”
“But yet I am,” she gently laughed as she looked down at him. Turning serious, she added, “But you are right, I know you have peopl
e who can bring you soup if you desire or need it, and I would not risk coming here simply for that. I needed to speak to you, and I knew this would be the only opportunity I would have. If you are willing to listen, may I explain?”
Nodding for her to continue, he watched her attentively.
“As you know, I have been learning about the operation of your household. Having observed the staff these last few days, I have come to the conclusion that there is really very little for me to do, and I assume I will find Pemberley run in the same competent manner. I could add a touch here or there, but your staff is so proficient that no real improvement is possible. It has, however, made me think a great deal about what my role as the mistress of your estate will entail. While I have found no flaw in the operation of this household, there has been one matter that has given me pause during my visit. It is your behavior, as it impacts upon your own well-being. While your staff provides you every comfort and willingly pledges you their support, it is not their place to tell the master when he is not taking proper care of himself. I have come to the realization that no one is in such a position, except perhaps me. So I am taking this opportunity to tell you in private that you are acting inappropriately.”
As he attempted to interrupt, she frowned at him and continued on in an even and solicitous voice. “You have been working far too hard, and it is making you sick. You seem unwilling even to consider rearranging your schedule to allow yourself some time to improve your health. I know you feel the weight of obligation, and I very much respect that about you, but you must be realistic as well. You will do no one good by getting seriously ill, and I believe you owe it to Georgiana and, to be frank, me, to safeguard your health. So, while this household can obviously look after itself, you apparently cannot. Consequently, I have taken it upon myself to tell my aunt and mother that estate business prevents you from attending the opera tomorrow evening and that I will not be going either. Mr. Bingley has agreed to escort Georgiana with Jane, and my family will otherwise attend the performance as planned. Bingley will host them at dinner. I have talked to your steward, and he will reschedule your meeting with your solicitor until dinnertime. That way you will be allowed to rest uninterrupted until that time. If the colonel arrives tomorrow, I will host him with Georgiana. If you have rested all morning and are feeling better, perhaps we will let you join us.”
Mr. Darcy and the Secret of Becoming a Gentleman Page 34