A Life Apart

by Harriet Knowles

  He bowed again and left the room. Mrs. Gardiner was waiting in the hall, and he was forced to stop and speak with her, when all he wanted was to get out of the house as quickly as possible.

  But he didn’t see why he should make any sort of pretence that he was pleased with the situation.

  “I will send word when I have obtained the special licence and booked the church. Miss Bennet will need to have her belongings ready to transfer to Darcy House.”

  She flinched slightly. “I will be ready on whichever day you say, Mr. Darcy. There will be a small wedding breakfast here. Elizabeth will need to say her goodbyes to my children in the traditional manner.”

  His lips tightened, but he would not confront that issue now.

  “Very well.” He bowed. “We will need two witnesses. Miss Bennet’s father will either need to be there to give his consent or write such consent as she is not of age.”

  “We will arrange that.” Mrs. Gardiner’s face was sad, but he felt little sympathy and he was soon hurrying down the steps, drawing great breaths of fresh air.

  His coach was waiting, and he put his foot on the step, and hesitated.

  “Take me to Lambeth Palace,” he ordered and climbed in. He might just as well see if he could get the licence today. The sooner the whole thing was over, the better.

  Chapter 12

  Elizabeth could not believe her life had changed so much in such a short time. It was only three days since Mr. Darcy had called on them at Gracechurch Street, and now, here she was, in her uncle’s carriage, on her way to the church.

  Only three days! She shook her head in disbelief. So much had happened, and that Mr. Darcy was in such a hurry, she could not understand.

  She wondered who would be there today. Mr. Darcy had demanded two witnesses and her father only.

  She smiled wryly, her mother had been furious. It was almost the only thing Elizabeth was happy about, and she had ignored her mother when she appeared in her bedchamber that morning.

  “Oh, Lizzy! You must arrange your hair nicely now! Such a rich husband! You will have a fine life, so much pin money!”

  But she’d soon become angry. “You can ignore me all you like, Miss Lizzy! You’ll soon find out you cannot be so stubborn once you are married! And you’ll wish you had asked me what to expect on your wedding night!”

  She had stormed out of the room, demanding her smelling salts, and Elizabeth sighed. Nothing was going to happen on her wedding night, she knew that.

  All that was going to happen was that she was moving to Darcy House, where she would be living, in icy formality, with a gentleman she had met precisely three times, for a total of less than two hours.

  She took a deep breath as the carriage drew up outside a small, unprepossessing little church in a narrow back street. Mr. Darcy must have chosen it for its anonymity, for it had no other attributes she could discern.

  She knew her father’s eyes were on her and she refused to look at him. She was still too angry to feel in the slightest bit forgiving. She might have him and her uncle and aunt there, but in truth she was alone.

  She compressed her lips as she entered the church on her father’s arm.

  Mr. Darcy was standing there silently, and she realised he too, was alone. He had not even a groomsman standing with him and she wondered briefly whether he had told anyone that he was marrying today.

  She bit her lip, hysteria would do her no good, and she stood quietly beside him as the vicar moved forward to speak to her.

  “Miss Bennet?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I must check first, that you are the lady mentioned in the special licence and also, that your father has given his consent to your marriage today.”

  Elizabeth nodded, supposing that this would all have happened in the days before the service if it had not been such a hurried affair.

  The checks were soon over, and she stood beside the man who would, in just a few short moments, be her husband.

  The vicar stepped back and opened his prayer book. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here …”

  Moments later, it was all over, and she was Mrs. Darcy, for better or worse. He was unsmiling, as he had been when they entered the church, and he had uttered not a word except for the responses required by the service.

  As soon as the register had been signed and witnessed, Mr. Darcy offered her his arm and led her to the door, her family trailing behind them. He still said not a word, and she felt her anger beginning to bubble up. But she kept her own counsel, she would not allow her family to think they had won.

  He led her to his closed coach, and her lips tightened as she climbed in. She was quite happy not to be seen by anyone they passed. The rest of the party returned to the Gardiner’s open carriage.

  The coach jerked and moved off. Mr. Darcy sat in grim silence, and Elizabeth wondered if she would be kept at arm’s length for the rest of her life.

  After a few moments, she gathered her courage. “Mr. Darcy?”

  He turned to look at her; it seemed to cost him an enormous effort. “Yes?”

  “I — was wondering if we might not attend the wedding breakfast? I have nothing further to say to my family, and perhaps you can send for my belongings?”

  He stared at her, and his expression seemed to soften very slightly.

  “I am sorry to have to decline your first request, madam. But we must go, or I fear your mother might call at Darcy House and demand to see you.”

  “Oh.” Elizabeth sat back in the seat. The ordeal was not over yet. And he had not called her Mrs. Darcy. She turned away from him and looked out of the window.

  It was not far to Gracechurch Street and she must gather her strength. She would not show her family how vulnerable she felt, how afraid of her future.

  Icily polite, he assisted her down from the coach and took her hand on his arm as they went up the steps.

  “Lizzy!” Her mother rushed towards them as they entered the hall. “Oh, my great congratulations! And you too, Mr. Darcy!”

  They both stared at her and Elizabeth burned with mortification.

  “But where are your guests, Mr. Darcy?” her mother peered through the door. “Have they come? I must be introduced to the Earl and the Countess! Relations who have a title! Oh, my goodness!”

  Elizabeth turned away from her and moved away, her husband on her arm. “I am sorry about her,” she whispered. He didn’t reply and she wondered if he would ever speak to her except in a formal capacity.

  A servant approached them with a tray of drinks. She surveyed it unhappily. “I don’t want wine. Please get me a cup of tea.”

  She smiled slightly at the servant’s ill-concealed shock. Mr. Darcy nodded beside her.

  “And bring me a whisky, too.”

  Elizabeth’s lips twitched. They would not be toasting each other. She felt the very slightest squeeze of his arm on her hand and felt slightly better.

  “So, why have you not got drinks? Oh, brother, where is the servant?” Her mother was there, berating her again, and she saw Uncle Gardiner trying not to roll his eyes at his sister’s behaviour.

  She saw her father across the room, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. She wondered whether he would speak to her, but she was determined to stay close to Mr. Darcy, and she thought Papa would not approach her while she was with him.

  Her mother had no such concerns. “Oh, Lizzy! What a fine lady you will be! My sister here has told me all about Pemberley and how beautiful it is! I will call there and we shall have a wonderful stay!”

  Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy stiffen beside her, he must feel the same way as she did.

  She turned on her mother. “No, Mama. You will not call on me at Pemberley. Or in London. You ruined me. You caused my disgrace and forced me — us — into this situation.” She swallowed. “I will never speak to you again. If you think you will call on me, then let me speak plainly to you. I will ensure you are not — ever — admitted.”

  She stepped back, f
orcing her voice to be even. “I know you care nothing for my happiness, or that of Mr. Darcy.” She lifted her chin. “So I will care nothing of yours, or how you regard me in the future. Never contact me again. I will not see you.”

  She turned to the gentleman beside her. “I think it is time for us to leave, Mr. Darcy.”

  She swept into the hall, not caring if she had been rude, and trying to convince herself that she didn’t care if she never saw her aunt, or this house, again. But her sight was blurred and she had to blink away tears. She would not let them fall.

  But Aunt Gardiner was there. She took Elizabeth’s hand and leaned forward to kiss her.

  “I hope one day you might forgive us, Lizzy. I will be thinking of you always,” she whispered and stepped back, not expecting a reply.

  “You might have thought of this, Mrs. Bennet.” Elizabeth could hear her father’s raised voice back in the dining room over the sound of her mother’s hysterics. “You will have nothing to boast about now, and your actions have made everyone unhappy.”

  At least he was blaming her mother, Elizabeth thought. But she bit her lip. He had not been without blame and she was not in any mood to feel sorry for him.

  She was surprised by a slightly amused look on Mr. Darcy’s face and felt just a little less lonely.

  She climbed into the coach. She would not look back, even though she doubted she would ever see this place again. She would look forward and make the best of her life that she could.

  Chapter 13

  At least she did not try to talk to him in the coach, and he was surprised that she did not weep once she was out of sight of her family.

  Darcy sat uncomfortably beside her. His wife! He could still not accept what he had had to do this day. He hid a wry smile. It would be very interesting to see his uncle’s reaction when he heard of the news.

  He was very tempted to put the notice in the Gazette and let the family discover it in that manner. But he owed it to Georgiana and Richard to tell them himself, so he would not send the notice just yet.

  They rode the entire journey in silence. Darcy didn’t know what to say, and he thought she might be afraid she would give way to tears if she began a conversation.

  They went up the steps to Darcy House together, the new Mrs. Darcy on his arm, and rather earlier than he thought the staff might be expecting them.

  He need not have worried, his housekeeper would have everything ready from the moment his coach drove into view.

  Mrs. Porter curtsied deeply. “Welcome to Darcy House, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “Mrs. Porter is the housekeeper, madam.” Darcy could not bring himself to address his wife as anything else yet, but he was impressed by her composure.

  Elizabeth. He could think of her as that.

  Elizabeth nodded at the woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Porter. Perhaps you can introduce the rest of the staff?”

  Mrs. Porter took her along the line of staff who she had gathered to greet the new mistress of Darcy House, and as he stood back while she listened carefully, he felt a little ashamed that he had not arranged for her to be more appropriately attired for her new position in life.

  In his anger, he had not considered preparing her properly for her task and he suddenly understood that he had made things much harder for her.

  Still, it was too late now, and if he found any hint that the staff did not respect her properly, he would, of course, respond at once.

  It was the first time he had felt any sense of protectiveness towards her, and he pushed the feeling away. Tomorrow he would take her to Pemberley and then return to London, and make his life away from her. No doubt she would be as good as any other lady at spending money to get what she needed.

  He took her through to the drawing room as the staff dispersed again. He nodded at Mrs. Porter.

  “We will take tea, if you please.” He glanced at her — of course, they had taken nothing at the wedding breakfast. “And something to eat.”

  “Yes, sir.” The woman hurried away, doubtless wondering that they had not already eaten. But she was a good, reliable woman, and he trusted her absolutely. She would not allow any of his staff to gossip.

  Elizabeth sat quietly on a chair by the fire, her gaze wandering around the great room. She seemed remarkably composed, he thought. But then, he had known from when he discovered her in the woods that she was a resourceful, independent lady.

  He had not wanted to marry, but perhaps he was fortunate that she was not like her mother. Perhaps she would not trouble him too much.

  He followed her gaze. “I would show you around, madam, but we will be leaving early tomorrow morning for Pemberley, and I think that you will have enough to learn when you are there.”

  He did not want any memory of her here, he would be making his life here, and she must not be part of it.

  They sat over their tea in silence. He noticed that she drank several cups of tea, but did not touch the pastries or even take a slice.

  He was not really hungry, but he would not take anything if she didn’t, and he sat there in silent irritation.

  She put down her cup and turned to him. “I have taken enough of your time, sir. I am tired, so with your permission, I will retire.”

  He nodded. “Of course, madam.” He rose to his feet and bowed politely. “I hope you find everything to your comfort and I will see you in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied, and quietly left the room.

  He knew Mrs. Porter would be watching the hall and would take her up to the bedchamber of the mistress of Pemberley. She’d appointed a lady’s maid for Elizabeth and he hoped she would be all right.

  He turned back to the fire, frowning. He could do nothing more, but she must be feeling very alone.

  He certainly was. He would by necessity dine alone and he knew it was for the best that he had sent Georgiana and Richard away. But he would have welcomed their company.

  He pushed himself to his feet. He would go to his library. The dark panelling and the smell of the many books was a comforting, masculine environment, much more suited to his temperament and mood.

  He poured himself a whisky and slumped in the great leather chair. The fire warmed him, but no warmth could reach his heart.

  He sat there, too tired even to think, until he was summoned for dinner.

  The huge room, the extensive table with its single place setting and the footmen moving quietly around the room, bringing course after course — it was all suddenly oppressive to him.

  He much preferred to be at Pemberley and now he would not be able to use it. He pushed away his plate, only half-eaten and shook his head as the butler nodded at the servant.

  “Enough. I will be in my library.” It was still much too early to go to bed. He wanted to talk to Cousin Richard, sit and listen to Georgiana playing for their entertainment.

  Next week. Next week, he could do that, and this nightmare would have been dealt with to the best of his ability. But he had been right to send them away. He would not introduce them to Elizabeth until he had decided whether it was the right thing to do.

  He looked down at the book in his lap. He had turned the pages but no sense of what he had read had remained in his mind.

  He resisted the urge to hurl the book into the fire. His anger bubbled to the surface again. He wished there were a gentlemanly way of relieving his anger and the sickening knowledge that the whole course of his life had been changed forever.

  But he could not. He could not even have an early gallop at first light in the morning. Instead he must sit in the coach with the woman who was now his wife as they travelled nearly two hundred miles the length of England.

  Then he would journey back alone. Perhaps he would ride some of the return journey. He would not have such dark thoughts for company, then.

  He glanced at the adjoining door to the chambers of the mistress of Darcy House as he got ready for bed. Did she wonder if he would want to assert his conjugal rights? She must think h
e needed an heir, and he must remember to disabuse her of the thought.

  He sighed and dismissed his valet. First he must put some distance between them and make his decisions when he was not so disturbed in his mind. Then he might be able to talk to her and make suitable arrangements so that they both knew what was expected of her.

  Chapter 14

  Elizabeth lay in bed and watched the dawn light creep through the chink in the curtains. Her bedchamber was large and beautifully appointed, the bed vast and luxurious. But for all that, she hadn’t slept very much.

  Too much had happened for her to be able to put it all out of her mind. And the very presence of the adjoining door to the master’s bedchamber had drawn her fascinated gaze.

  She knew he could lock it from his side, and very likely had done so. But the lady of the house could not lock it from her side. She must be available to her husband whenever he might wish it so.

  She smiled sadly. She had not expected Mr. Darcy to stride through that door. He was too angry to be able to see her as anything other than part of the family that had caused him such upheaval in his life.

  But she was dismayed that he seemed not to be thinking of her feelings at all in this whole matter.

  Up on the hills above Meryton, she had thought him observant and thoughtful, kind and dutiful. But she had seen no more of that. She knew how he must be feeling, but she was dismayed that he appeared not to be considering at all that she too had lost her dreams.

  If she had asked her mother to come with her to Pemberley to help her settle in, he might have been justified at being angry with her, but she had cut herself adrift from her family, partly for his sake, and she was now utterly dependent on his benevolence, barely knowing him at all.

  She sighed and turned over. She wondered when her maid would come in to tell her it was time to rise and prepare for the day’s journey. Emilie was a quiet girl and Elizabeth wondered what she felt about the silent and unhappy bride she was attending.