by C. P. Odom
The object of his comment turned towards him suddenly and opened her mouth, presumably to say something biting, but she appeared to think better of it and closed her lips firmly. With her arms clasped about her chest and her face closed and frozen, she hardly invited any attempt at conversation, but Darcy felt so giddy, nothing could intimidate him, and he made no attempt to contain his joy.
Elizabeth looked up sharply as Darcy chuckled, and she now made no attempt to contain her venom. “Do you find amusement in this situation, Mr. Darcy?”
“Not amusement,” he said, smiling at her warmly, “but I am too happy to contain it. It was not just that I thought this day would never come—I was absolutely certain it could never happen.”
“Oh? So you never thought you would be able to coerce me into a marriage I did not desire? I suppose such a triumph might be considered amusing…to a certain kind of person, at least.”
“You are trying to provoke me, and I cannot blame you. I suppose it seems yet another example of my insufferable arrogance.”
“That is a massive understatement, sir!”
“But the truth is, I never would have had the courage to attempt what was done today without the aid and insight of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. In fact, such an endeavour never would have occurred to me. If not for their encouragement, I should still be sitting alone in my study tonight…and probably drinking far more brandy than was good for me.”
“So you seek to lay your effrontery on my aunt and uncle?” Elizabeth said angrily. “Have you no shame, sir?”
“L’audace, l’audace, toujours l’audace,” Darcy murmured, and he smiled again at the quizzical expression on her face.
“Audacity, audacity, always audacity. One of the sayings of the tyrant Bonaparte,” he explained. “But I meant what I said. I never would have had the audacity to attempt engaging your father as a means of convincing you to marry me. That was the suggestion of your aunt and uncle, especially your aunt. A very sophisticated and insightful woman, Mrs. Gardiner. I like her very much. And your uncle as well.”
The expression on Elizabeth’s face showed her complete disbelief, and he spoke gently. “In fact, they not only suggested my course of action, they proposed I accomplish this marriage by going to your father.”
“I do not believe you!”
“It is the truth. I hesitated to tell you because I was worried you would be angry with them. But your aunt pointed out that you would learn the whole story eventually, so it would be better to tell you everything from the start. She is confident you will realise they acted as they did because of their love for you, even if you are angry with them in the interim.”
“It cannot be,” whispered Elizabeth.
“It is the truth,” Darcy repeated earnestly. “The only solution I could offer was to call on you—or possibly your father—and attempt to court you openly. I thought such a course might have the added benefit of redeeming your family’s honour in the neighbourhood.”
“Then why did you not do it?” she asked. This question appeared to be leached of all anger, and she sounded honestly curious.
“Because every time I considered it, I immediately had a vision of arriving at Longbourn and having the door closed in my face.”
Elizabeth’s lips curled upward at this, but it was not a smile of mirth. “A delightful thought, sir! I do not know whether I would have thought of such a response, but I definitely had no desire to see you again, even after I acquitted you of any harm done to Wickham. I would certainly have advised my father against receiving you at Longbourn if he had asked.”
“I thought as much, and so did your aunt and uncle. They devised this scheme and presented it to me. I could not be certain it would work, but they were very worried about your father. If not for his ill health, I think they would not have chosen such a precipitous plan.”
Elizabeth said nothing to this, and he finally felt compelled to say, “You have no reason to fear any disrespect from me in our life together. I admire and love you as much as ever, and I shall endeavour to make you happy. Pray believe that.”
“If such is your desire, sir, if you truly wish to make me happy, then release me from this arrangement you have made. Only then can I find happiness.”
“Can you?” Darcy asked softly. “Your father is quite unwell as you know. Would you feel happiness seeing your elder sister forced to leave her home to seek employment caring for the children of another family? Would it bring you happiness to have rejected an opportunity to reclaim the lives you used to know?”
“Damn you,” whispered Elizabeth, seemingly unconscious such a pejorative had just passed her lips.
“Enough of this,” Darcy said briskly. “I believe I hear the parson’s carriage in the drive. We should go out and meet him so the ceremony can begin.”
Darcy remembered Mrs. Gardiner’s advice against trying to convince Elizabeth of anything in the tumult of what had happened today.
“The more you try to reason with her at this point,” she had said, “the harder she will cling to her anger. She is torn, wanting to blame someone for the misfortune afflicting those she loves, but there is no one to blame except her sister, and she hesitates to do that. In time, she will come to realise she cannot be angry forever, and then you will be able to reason with her.”
It was obvious any continued efforts would meet with a similar lack of success and might well make things worse, so Darcy simply offered his arm to Elizabeth, nodding to the door of the library.
“I told my father I would never forgive you for what you have forced me to do,” she said in a voice as cold as ice. “Depend on it, Mr. Darcy, for I never will. You may have me as your wife, and I wish you all the joy you may obtain from my unwillingness, but I will never relent.”
“Perhaps,” he said, but his slight smile said he did not believe her. “I have known people who will nurse a grudge until it dies of old age and then keep the remnants around to admire on occasion. I do not believe you are one of those people, Elizabeth. Neither does your aunt, your uncle, or your father. So, I suppose I shall simply have to take my chances.”
Elizabeth tried to ignore the thin, tiny voice of reason that agreed with Darcy as he offered his arm. She looked at it in momentary silence before taking it and departed to face her fate with this hateful man.
Chapter 13
Marriage has many pains, but celibacy has no pleasures.
— Samuel Johnson (1709–1784), often referred to as Dr. Johnson, English writer, poet, essayist, moralist, literary critic, biographer, editor, and lexicographer
Saturday, October 12, 1816
Darcy Town House, London
Elizabeth felt numb as the large, black coach pulled through open gates into a small stable yard behind a four-story town house. This was Darcy’s London home, and she knew it was located in the West End though she was unacquainted with that part of town. She felt a stab of regret, knowing it would be her home from now on. Never again would she sit in her bedroom at Longbourn, talking with Jane about all the news of the neighbourhood while she combed out her sister’s long hair.
This house would not be her home for the entire year. Much of the time would be spent at Darcy’s fabled estate of Pemberley in Derbyshire, and she would be expected to manage both households though she had no idea how such tasks should be accomplished. Her mother had provided little in the way of training for such duties. Although she fussed over flowers and arranged small dinner parties, it was Hill who managed the house.
How could my life change so acutely in just a few hours? When I ate breakfast, it was the same as every morning. There was not a hint of the dramatic and distressing developments about to transpire when Mr. Darcy arrived.
She looked at the tall, handsome man seated across from her, and she was still unable to acknowledge that he was her husband. Oh, she knew the
documents had been prepared, Mr. Palmer had performed the ceremony in the front parlour of Longbourn, and he had brought the marriage register. She remembered signing it Elizabeth Bennet, knowing it was the last time she would sign her name in that manner. Henceforth, she would be known as either Elizabeth Darcy or Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and she would be expected to make this taciturn man with the slight smile the centre of her life from now until one or the other of them died.
When the coach stopped, Darcy’s smile broadened as he nodded to her and exited the coach in a bound, not even waiting for the footman to descend and lower the step. He did it himself and then offered his hand to Elizabeth. She paused briefly, looking at the expensive gloves he wore, and thought of her own. Though hers were perfectly usable, she was certain Darcy’s had cost many times more, and she wondered how she would adjust to a life where she no longer had to worry about the cost of such things.
Elizabeth took his hand and stepped down as a half-dozen men and boys closed in on the coach. Two of them handed down her trunk and took it into the house while others unharnessed the horses and led them away. The number of men was several times more than her father employed to care for all the horses at Longbourn, and this was only one of Darcy’s houses. From what she had been told, the London town house was nothing compared to Pemberley.
In such surroundings, she would live henceforth with her children and the man she had so reluctantly married. It gave her comfort to think that her children would not have to make a good marriage to be assured of a roof over their heads and food on the table, for Darcy’s estate was not entailed away as her father’s had been.
At least her mother and sisters were assured of an adequate living after her father died, and she was relieved to have that worry laid to rest. She knew she ought to feel a sense of gratitude to the man who had made it possible, but she could not. Perhaps she might feel grateful someday but not today. At the moment, she felt only a cold disdain for his arrogance and temerity that had forced her into this marriage.
News of the wedding was seemingly already known here since the stable hands were offering their rough congratulations to their master. She knew Darcy had sent an express from Longbourn just after her father signed the marriage agreements, and it must have been to announce he would be bringing home a wife.
To her surprise, the men’s well-wishes seemed both honestly felt and enthusiastic. She was sure she would be able to discern whether his servants were trying to flatter the man who employed them, but she saw nothing to make her think such was the case. In fact, the younger boys were as excited as the older men. It seemed inconceivable they could have learned to dissemble well enough to deceive her even if their elders possessed the talent.
She was thus unwillingly forced to concede another error on her part. It appeared Darcy inspired a measure of unexpected loyalty from these servants. Such an admission was especially distressing since similar devotion was sadly lacking in any of the staff at her father’s estate. Only Hill, the long-time housekeeper, could be said to show true allegiance, and she had been with the Bennet family all her life.
“Shall we go inside, my dear?” Darcy asked solicitously, and Elizabeth wanted to scream at him for pretending there was any intimacy between them, but she held her tongue and simply took his proffered arm, allowing him to lead her inside the house.
As they entered, Elizabeth was not surprised to see servants lining the hall. These were assuredly part of the household staff, and the men bowed and the women curtseyed as she and Darcy walked by. An older man, tall and thin with snow white hair, stood at the end of the hall with a woman of similar age by his side.
“Welcome home, sir. And welcome to Darcy House, Mrs. Darcy,” the man said, bowing deeply while the woman beside him curtseyed.
“Thank you, Roberts,” Darcy said with a nod before turning to Elizabeth. “This is my butler and his wife, Mrs. Roberts. She is my housekeeper, and they have managed the household for many years though the two of them like to pretend I do.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Roberts said with obvious fondness and then turned to her mistress. “Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Darcy. Your rooms are ready for you, and I have assigned one of our girls as your maid. You can select another after you have a chance to get familiar with the staff, but Jennie should be able to take care of your needs in the meantime.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. She would have rather seen to her own needs, as was the custom at Longbourn, but it would seem ridiculous to spurn Jennie’s assistance.
“You can meet the rest of the staff later, Mrs. Darcy,” Mrs. Roberts continued. “I assume you have had a very full day, so I thought you might prefer to eat your dinner and then retire early. If such an arrangement meets with your approval, madam, the cook is ready to begin serving right away.”
Though Elizabeth cared little for such preparations, she simply nodded her agreement and made sure to keep any distasteful expression from her face. A lifetime lived in the chaos of Longbourn had well prepared her to keep secrets.
***
Elizabeth had little appetite at the evening meal, and all too soon Darcy rose to conduct her to her chamber. At the door, she paused and turned to Darcy. Though she hated to talk about this subject, she could delay it no longer.
“Am I correct, sir, in assuming you will expect to exercise your marital rights tonight?” she asked stiffly, her eyes downcast in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
“Of course,” Darcy said mildly.
Elizabeth felt her ire blossom at yet another example of his insufferable arrogance. But she could see that he was not through speaking, so she suppressed her irritation and forced herself to listen.
“I thought to wait some days or even a week,” he said, “but as it was pointed out to me, because we are truly married, both in the eyes of society and in the eyes of God, I should—”
“Oh, do not tell me my uncle offered this misbegotten piece of advice!” Elizabeth said sharply.
“In truth, it was your aunt,” Darcy said quietly. “She predicted you were already going to be angry enough by the end of the day no matter what I did, so it would be useless to pretend we were not truly married and remain celibate. She recommended acting as any other newly married couple would.”
His words did nothing to assuage Elizabeth’s fury. In truth, nothing was likely to do that, but she knew she could not give vent to her emotions in the hall. So she forcefully clamped her lips together, and it was several moments before she could speak.
“Very well, sir,” Elizabeth said coldly. “If you will allow me a half-hour, I shall come to you.”
Darcy bowed and turned away to his own chambers while Elizabeth entered hers.
I will not pollute my own apartments. If I have to tolerate his beastly affections, let it be in his rooms so afterwards I can retreat to the solace of my own.
In such a state of mingled anger, mortification, and trepidation, she entered her room to prepare herself, if it was possible, for the ordeal ahead.
***
Jennie hummed happily as she finished brushing out her mistress’s long, dark hair. Elizabeth sat silently in front of a mirror, looking at her reflection and wondering how long Darcy would take to satisfy his urges. She hoped to be able to return to her rooms and bathe afterwards to wash away any vestige of her time with him.
She remembered overhearing her mother speaking to her aunt Philips on several occasions, complaining of how often her father visited her room. She could not have been more than six or seven when she first heard her mother on the subject, saying it was a necessary burden if there was any hope of a male child to break the entail. In her innocence, Elizabeth had not known the meaning of what her mother said, but her father’s estate was also a farm, and she had seen the animals when they were bred. She supposed people must do something similar, but she was otherwise lacking
information.
Jennie had shown her several nightgowns her aunt Gardiner had given her before she left Longbourn, but Elizabeth had refused to consider them, preferring to wear one of her plain, comfortable ones. Her choice seemed to confuse the rather simple-minded girl. She likely could not conceive that any young lady who married her master would not wish to make herself attractive and desirable to him.
At last, in order to forestall any possibility of the girl mentioning the subject with the other servants, Elizabeth forced herself to smile. “It would be best to save those garments for other nights, Jennie. For tonight, at least, I suspect Mr. Darcy will not care what I am wearing.”
This comment, made in confidence, caused Jennie to blush prettily as she smiled in dawning comprehension, and she profusely apologised for not having understood her mistress.
All too soon, Jennie had completed her preparations and bade her mistress good night before vanishing through the servant’s entrance. Elizabeth sat silently for several minutes, staring at herself and trying to gather strength. But she could not delay going to Darcy any longer, and she was too proud to plead with him to restrain himself. She knew she had to submit to the inevitable evils of the marital bed sooner or later, and she may as well start now.
The late afternoon air was already becoming chill, so she pulled her dressing gown closer about her before rising and going to the door connecting to Darcy’s rooms. She started to knock, but before her fist fell, she thought better of it. Why act as though she was requesting entrance to his chambers, when she really had no choice? Instead, she simply opened the door and walked through.
Darcy was standing before the windows looking out at the sun as it set over the buildings of London, and he turned as Elizabeth entered. He smiled, but Elizabeth fancied his smile was somewhat strained. She hoped so; she hoped he suffered remorse beyond measure at the way he had used his wealth and position to bring her so unwillingly to his bed.