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Compromising Mr. Darcy

Page 43

by Rose Fairbanks


  6 Darcy and Elizabeth are equals in their likeness to Pamela here. They were both willing to give up what society lauded as the best course and stick to their principles

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elizabeth, aside from her fit of nerves at the beginning of the journey, greatly enjoyed the ride to London with Darcy. His apology for his dislike of her family was touching. She appreciated that he allowed her to speak her mind so freely—not just about books but also her opinion of the discrepancies and hypocrisies in the expectations of men and women. She was even more pleased to learn he shared her views and, if she understood him correctly, had never succumbed to carnal temptation before.

  As they passed through the streets of London, she began to recognise an ache in her lower back and cramping in her pelvis. She was mortified that her courses would arrive, of all times, on her wedding day! But the jostling of the carriage was exacerbating her pains and producing a headache as well. She had never felt her pains so acutely before, and she could only assume it was due to their late arrival, compounded by her recent anxieties and now the travel. The conversation waned, and Elizabeth was grateful for the quiet of her own thoughts. She fervently prayed they would soon reach Darcy’s house.

  They passed several magnificent and large houses before coming to a stop. Elizabeth peered out the window, and although she felt unwell, she could not stifle her laughter.

  Darcy looked at her quizzically and possibly felt a bit offended.

  “Excuse me, I do not mean to offend. It is a lovely house, and I am very pleased with it.” Darcy relaxed significantly. “It is only that as we passed the other enormous homes, I became more nervous about the likely size of yours. Now I recall that Miss Bingley never fawned over your London house. I imagine she fancied you would take a lease on something grander if you married her, but I much prefer less ostentation.”

  She looked at the perfectly charming and adequate home in Mayfair but also acknowledged it was small and dated compared to several other majestic structures nearby.

  Darcy’s lips twitched in amusement. “What do you find diverting, sir?”

  “The Hursts lease a house in Grosvenor Street, so you can imagine her expectations. The Darcys did have a lease on a larger home, but Father gave it up after Mother died. This home was brought to the estate by my father’s mother. You understand, of course, most of the houses are owned by families like the Grosvenors and then leased out, but this is a Darcy possession. It might not be palatial, but it is ours.” He smiled, and Elizabeth saw his obvious pride, not in the house and his wealth but in his heritage.

  The door to the carriage opened, and Darcy descended, then turned, ready to hand her out. Elizabeth stood and was seized with a horrible cramping sensation so strong she cried out in pain.

  Darcy was at her side in an instant. Before she knew it, he was carrying her into the house and hurriedly introducing her to the housekeeper, dismissing the assembled servants, and calling for a physician.

  “William, please. I do not need a physician. I will be perfectly well soon. Please, just take me to my chambers. I trust there is a maid who can see to me.”

  Darcy was adamant about sending for a physician, and Elizabeth had no strength to argue, especially as doing so would necessitate she relate to him the cause for her discomfort, a conversation she desperately wished to avoid.

  Less than an hour later, she was bathed, dressed in a night shift with her hair plaited, and in her bed when the doctor entered the room.

  “Mrs. Darcy, I am Dr. Matthews. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Elizabeth shyly returned the civility.

  “Can you tell me your complaint?”

  Although she blushed profusely, Elizabeth explained that her courses had arrived and her opinion as to the cause of the intensity of the symptoms.

  “I agree entirely,” he said as he packed up his bag.

  “Doctor…” Elizabeth hesitantly began. “Could you...that is, would you please inform Mr. Darcy as to the cause of my indisposition?”

  His eyes widened a little. “Mrs. Darcy, I understand you are a newlywed, but Mr. Darcy must have some understanding of ladies. He has raised his very young sister, after all.”

  “Please, doctor. I hate to bring him disappointment.”

  “Ah, I suppose I was thinking more clinically than that. Very well, he is likely to make an inquisition of it as soon as I exit this room at any rate.”

  He said his farewells and left her with some laudanum for the pain. Elizabeth took his draught and gratefully fell into a deep sleep.

  *****

  “Dr. Matthews, please tell me how my wife is faring.” Darcy was exceedingly agitated and paced around his study where the men were meeting. He did not know Dr. Matthews very well. His usual physician, Dr. Ashton, was unavailable. Dr. Matthews, who had stood in for Dr. Ashton before, was called. He seemed to lack a certain bedside manner but was a very capable physician.

  “She is not ill. She is only indisposed, as is the natural way of things with healthy women. I realise this is frustrating as you are newly married, but for her own comfort, you should certainly abstain.”

  “She is well?”

  The doctor nodded affirmatively, and Darcy visibly relaxed.

  “We had planned to depart for my estate soon and have another journey planned as well. Is she well enough to travel?”

  “Certainly. She may tire more easily, but it is nothing I would restrict.”

  “How long will she be indisposed?”

  The doctor replied uncertainly. “It varies with each woman. I am certain she will inform you when she is entirely over it. In fact, you will indisputably know.”

  Darcy could only nod in agreement. He hoped the doctor would give him an estimated date of birth, but simple math would tell everyone the babe was due in August. Other than that, they came in their own time, and Darcy would certainly “indisputably” know when the baby arrived. Abstaining from relations until after she recovered from the babe’s birth was frustrating to hear, but he would do nothing that could hurt Elizabeth or cause her unease. They had the rest of their lives to join together again as man and wife, and he had managed to abstain until that fateful night with her; surely he could manage the next eight months. A relieved Darcy led Dr. Matthews to the door, and the gentleman departed.

  The celebratory dinner planned by the housekeeper was cancelled as soon as Darcy had arrived with an unwell Elizabeth in his arms. Instead, he ate simple fare and requested a tray for supper in his rooms. Elizabeth slept straight through it all, and he wondered if she even knew where the bell for the servant was to request assistance or food, should she wake and need it. A tray for her was decided against; there was little that would keep for hours on end, and Darcy did not know Elizabeth’s preferences.

  He sat on the sofa in his chambers in his shirt and breeches, the rest of the house long abed. This was certainly not the wedding night he envisioned, and he would be sleeping in separate chambers from his wife for the foreseeable future, but his relief that she was well was beyond compare.

  He regretted he had not asked the doctor how he thought Elizabeth would bear under the strains of childbirth. Darcy knew little of the process, only that many women died, including his own mother. There was no denying Elizabeth was much healthier and stronger than his mother had been. Elizabeth’s mother bore five children in eight years. Both of his grandmothers bore half a dozen children each, and his Aunt Sidney survived four births with no complaints. It was only his mother who seemed to have difficulty. Restating the facts reassured him, slightly.

  His heart seized at the knowledge that many of his aunts and uncles did not survive childhood, but he pushed the thought aside. Many medical advancements had been made, and frankly, he could only focus on one worry at a time. The future was truly in the Almighty’s hands.

  Darcy furrowed his brow. He also neglected to ask if the physician should be present at the birth or if a midwife was sufficient. The child would be born at Pemberley,
of course. They would arrive there next week, and Mrs. Reynolds would know who to suggest for Elizabeth’s care. They would return to Pemberley again for the summer, or earlier if Elizabeth wished it, due to her condition. Certainly there was no need to rush and worry about arrangements and preparations now.

  He considered their plans for the next few days. Originally, the plan was to leave for Longbourn on Monday morning and stay just long enough for the wedding breakfast before departing for Pemberley. Clearly, Elizabeth needed more rest, and he should allow for more time to stop. Allowing for more time than he often took while travelling, they should arrive on Wednesday before dinner.

  He could not delay the trip any longer than that. He had only intended to visit at Netherfield for three weeks. He dared not admit it to himself at the time, but he could not bring himself to leave Elizabeth. Then he delayed his departure again because of their wedding. No matter his estate’s concerns, he would not ask Elizabeth to miss her dearest sister’s wedding for anything in the world. It would be exhausting, but they could rest more after they returned to Pemberley. He was glad the doctor confirmed she was safe enough to travel.

  Reassured he had done all he could for the time being, he still did not feel sleepy. He cast his eyes about the room in search of a volume to read when he heard the door to Elizabeth’s chambers open. Concerned, he exited his room. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hallway, but he heard her gasp; his approach had startled her.

  *****

  “Elizabeth, are you well?” She held a candle, and Darcy was glad he had heard her, for he feared she would injure herself walking around the house with so little light.

  He had seen her in a similar garment before, but Elizabeth blushed to be caught stealing out of her bedchamber in only her dressing gown. Although, if things had gone as most wedding nights went, he would likely have seen her in far less. The thought made her face burn redder. She was grateful he likely could not see due to the darkness.

  “Yes, I am quite well.” She turned to re-enter her room when her stomach protested, quite audibly. Elizabeth was sure she would die of mortification.

  “I feared you would awaken hungry but would not know how to call your maid. We did not know if we should leave something out for you or if you would sleep straight through. Please, allow me to show you the cord.” Darcy motioned for her to re-enter, but she paused.

  “How late is it? I would hate to awaken someone, especially on my first night. Oh! What must they think of me? I arrive ill and sleep through the day. I am certain I must have spoiled all of...goodness, I cannot even recall the housekeeper’s name!” Elizabeth nervously played with the folds of her dressing gown.

  Darcy grabbed her hand, stroking it to calm her. “Elizabeth, all is well. We are pleased you are not ill. The staff are very kind and will not judge you harshly.” He chose to tease, to lighten her mood. “I have it on good authority everyone is relieved I did not choose Miss Bingley or a similarly demanding woman as a wife.” He could only barely make out her light smile at his jest.

  “Truly, they are eager to impress the new mistress. Mrs. Sparks, the housekeeper, wanted to post a maid at your bedside, but I thought you might desire your privacy instead of waking up to a stranger.” Left unsaid was that he did not know if she would have welcomed him at her side.

  “Thank you for the consideration.”

  “It is after midnight. You must be famished. Let me call a maid.”

  “No!” Elizabeth cried. “That is…” She trailed off but then raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “I believe I can adequately find something in the kitchen, or prepare a simple pot of tea. I am quite the hoyden and demanded our cook teach me simple things.” She shrugged. “I had to escape Mama somewhere, and my walks were sometimes restricted due to weather.”

  Darcy looked at her in awe. It would not do for Mrs. Darcy to do anything near cooking, but he did not see another way without waking someone, and Elizabeth was clearly set against the idea.

  “Very well, take my arm. Careful on the steps.” Darcy led her down into the kitchen. After lighting several lamps, he looked at Elizabeth and was amused at her look of wonder. He could not recall ever spending time in the kitchen, but apparently it was impressive if Elizabeth’s reaction was a measure.

  Elizabeth turned to him and suddenly realised he was nearly as undressed as she. She could see his chest hair and gulped. Her ease returned when he turned to stoke the fire.

  Elizabeth understood the layout of the room and quickly busied herself. Bread was sliced and jam spread. Soon the pot of water over the fire was boiling, which Elizabeth ladled into a pot for their tea, but she did so with a practiced hand and proudly served their simple meal. The tea was not locked away, and Elizabeth believed it spoke volumes about the staff’s loyalty.

  Darcy smiled appreciatively, but Elizabeth deflected his compliment. “Surely you heard my confession to Mr. Hurst, that I prefer a simple meal to a ragout?”

  They shared a smile and were silent for several bites.

  “You have seen one of my hidden accomplishments, sir. Have you any? I always thought it unfair that a lady must be accomplished while a man only needed to inherit money from some relative somewhere and charm the lady.” She was teasing; they both knew running an estate well was quite an accomplishment, and still many younger sons had professions and earned their income.

  “Yes, but you do not appreciate the amount of work it is to charm some people!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “It is true. Some are more difficult to impress than others, but some also do not seem to bother with the effort of being charming.” She blushed at all her recent memories of Darcy’s solicitous care. “At first.” She was pleased to see he looked aware of her admonishment.

  “Very well. It is not a very gentlemanly pursuit, but it pleased my mother at the time. She taught me a little on the pianoforte, and for years, I studied with masters on the violoncello.” He blushed and ducked his head.

  Elizabeth was extremely surprised. She knew he enjoyed listening to the pianoforte and recalled him listing concerts and operas as some of the activities he usually enjoyed when in Town, but that he played! And something as complex as the violoncello! Elizabeth’s gaze averted to his hands. They were large, but she noticed they were nimble, and he moved them gracefully. The same large hands had held her own and brought her comfort with a gentle touch.

  “Will you play for me sometime?” she asked softly.

  Darcy looked up at her, only to notice how she watched his hands, and smiled a little. “I...I am not used to performing for others, but if it would please you, I will.” Truthfully, only Georgiana and some staff knew he played still.

  Suddenly inspired, he grasped Elizabeth’s hand resting next to her teacup. It startled her, but she did not try to remove it.

  He asked, “Will you tell me what makes you happiest?”

  Elizabeth gazed at him for a long moment, deciding what her answer would be. “It is hard to explain. Put simply, I am happiest when I am with those whom I love and who love me.”

  Darcy was surprised at first, but a moment later decided it was perfectly in her character. Of course, Elizabeth would not list some material object or experience. He had expected her to mention a favourite path or activity, but not his Elizabeth.

  “And you?”

  Darcy thought over his answer. He traced his memory to find the happy moments in his life. Before Elizabeth’s answer, he might have answered that he was happiest in perfect solitude, with an amiable companion, or perhaps in his library with a good book. Now he recognised those were simply times of contentment. Elizabeth brought happiness. Elizabeth was his joy.

  “William?”

  Darcy had been silent for some time, making Elizabeth quite uneasy. He still held her hand and squeezed it lightly. “You.”

  Elizabeth turned scarlet and looked away from his steady gaze. She soon rose and began to gather the dishes, but Darcy stayed her arm.

  “Elizab
eth, I will not allow you to be a scullery maid.”

  “I cannot let them sit and ungraciously expect the maids to do them in the morning. When they went to bed, their domain was spotless!”

  Darcy gave her a penetrating look. Perhaps asking how to ensure her happiness was the wrong question to ask. “Will you tell me your greatest fears?”

  Elizabeth gasped at the question, but something in his eyes compelled her to answer honestly when she was prone to make a joke of it. “I fear becoming a disgrace. First as a Bennet, now as a Darcy, but mostly in my own eyes. I tease you about your fastidious standards, but the truth is they are no worse than I place on myself.”

  Darcy walked around the table to stand near her. She had lowered her head, but he tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. “You could never be a disgrace. You are a well-bred lady with grace, intelligence, and kindness. These ridiculous expectations of accomplishments mean nothing. Is a wife more agreeable if she can argue with her husband in German? I would have you be happy, and be happy with yourself. If that means mud puddles and cooking lessons, then so be it, if only to see that joyous sparkle in your eyes. That will give me pleasure!

  “Elizabeth, you are so unlike the women of the ton, the ladies with whom you shall soon become acquainted, and I do not ever want you to think you must become artificial like them.”

  Elizabeth was embarrassed by her confession but realised she had wanted to share such an intimate thought with her husband. She needed to feel his acceptance. As he began to speak, she felt more self-assured than she had in months, since before his insult at the assembly. It seemed that even after she claimed to have forgiven him and forgotten it, even after she accepted his proposal and his professions of admiration, she felt the hurt of his words because they had validated her own insecurity. Striking out in anger at him was easier than acknowledging she shared his opinion.

 

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