Caroline coolly replied, “I do not see why you should think so.”
“He is ridiculous, and you are so…so…” Lydia searched for a word.
“Proud!” Kitty helped Lydia along.
“He has a good living now and as Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s rector. I have met with her a few times before and was pleased to see her and her daughter again yesterday.” Jane’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Caroline began speaking faster. “I know she is a very kind and condescending lady. She holds other, greater, livings as well. It shall be no hardship to preside over the Hunsford parsonage and frequent Lady Catherine’s table until I am mistress of Longbourn.”
Mrs. Bennet dropped the pot entirely, then.
“Mama!” Mary cried out.
Handkerchiefs were quickly produced to attempt to clean the mess, but Mrs. Bennet’s nerves could not be contained.
Jane rushed to Caroline and Louisa’s sides. “Thank you again for calling. I fear all this excitement has wearied Mother. The exhaustion of planning two weddings has quite fatigued her. I wish you very happy.” She kissed Caroline’s cheek. “I know Charles will be pleased as well. Do excuse us. I am certain we shall spend quite a bit of time together next week.” Jane then turned to her mother and helped her upstairs.
Caroline and Louisa showed themselves to the door, and in a matter of minutes, Mrs. Hill arrived with compresses for Mrs. Bennet.
“Oh! It is a good thing Lizzy has married Mr. Darcy! Miss Bingley and Mr. Collins would turn us out of this house before Mr. Bennet would be cold in his grave, I am sure!” She lay back and appeared faint for a moment, then took a sniff of the smelling salts Kitty held out for her. “Oooh! It is vile! If only he would have asked Mary!”
“Be calm, Mama. Papa is healthy, and Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley will see to us, I am sure.” She patted her mother’s hand.
“I worry about you, Jane, dear. Gaining such a sister! Well, it is good she will be out of your house. And married to such a man! His patroness is a terrible, miserly woman with no style or beauty. Her daughter is quite insane.” Jane rolled her eyes as her mother changed her opinion on Mr. Collins so quickly. “I am certain she will never bear him a son.”
“Hush, Fanny,” Mrs. Gardiner said.
“It will be nothing like you and Lizzy. You two will have no hardships with your husbands’ attentions.”
“Fanny!” Mrs. Gardiner cried.
“Mama!” Jane and her sisters cried at once.
“What? Lizzy already knew how to secure Mr. Darcy, and do not think I am blind as to the real cause of this change in the wedding date, Jane. I do not speak an untruth. How do you suppose I begat five children?”
“Mother!” the girls cried again and quickly fled the room.
“Fanny, calm yourself!” Mrs. Gardiner said.
Jane and her sisters collapsed in her room, laughing at their mother, Caroline Bingley, and Mr. Collins.
“Jane, is it really true?” Lydia asked when they finally calmed.
Jane blushed. She always tried to be an example for her older sisters. “Lizzy admitted that she allowed Mr. Darcy some liberties while at Netherfield; that is all she has said to me. I think we know better than to trust Mama.”
“And you?” Mary asked, and Jane hated to hear the condemnation in her voice. She had thought they were becoming closer. Mary might never forgive her.
“It is only the difference of a few days,” she said weakly and stared at her hands.
Lydia jumped from the bed. “Jane, you wicked thing!”
Jane tugged Lydia back down. “No, listen to me. Do not be like me! We were engaged, and the licence was purchased, but it is no excuse.”
Mrs. Gardiner came in then. “No, it is not. Nor should your father have left you alone with him. An error he has promised to rectify with you three.”
Before she could scold further, a maid arrived with a note for Jane from Miss Bingley. “Read it!” Kitty encouraged.
The whole room watched as she read and then burst into laughter.
“What?” they exclaimed in unison. Jane passed the letter to Mary to read.
“Dearest Jane, please do not hate me forever. Charles would be so angry if he thought we were not friends. I assure you I had no idea Mr. Collins came yesterday to propose. I had assumed he desired to speak with Lady Catherine. She had already left, and as I was explaining it to him in the main hall, I was taken aback as he got on one knee. I refused, I did! But he would not take no for an answer. He rose and kissed me instead! You can imagine my mortification when I heard steps and turned to find Lord Sidney had just witnessed Mr. Collins’ display. He eagerly gave his congratulations, and now I am to marry!”
The ladies broke into laughter once more.
“You see, girls, this is why you ought not to be alone with men!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, and they laughed again.
“Yes, but not for fear of seduction or compromise but from receiving such a proposal!” Mary cried.
“Indeed!” Mrs. Gardiner agreed, and it was many moments before they were calmed enough to return to the drawing room. Jane could only wonder what Bingley and Elizabeth would think of the news.
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy awoke to find his arm draped over Elizabeth’s side. She was cuddled close to him. Her dark eyelashes—the darkest he had ever seen—were striking against her pale, creamy skin. Her face was exquisite in repose. The neckline of her night shift had slipped low. It did not expose any more of her bosom than an evening gown would, but he could view her unrepentantly without the enduring scrutiny of being in the company of others. She had a visible mole on her right breast, which he had long admired; from his new vantage point, he discovered two fainter ones on her left one as well. He smiled; he was the only man in the world who would know of the existence of those other moles.
He repressed a sigh at her beauty. He became entranced with the rise and fall of her chest and resisted the urge to trace his finger along her neckline. That thought sent him evaluating where his hand clutched her trim waist. His eyes drifted over the length of her, settling where her hips gently flared wide—hips he wanted to grasp in the throes of passion, with their bodies entwined. He suddenly realised their lower legs were tangled; her night shift had ridden up in the night. Darcy wore breeches but not stockings. Her silky smooth calves were against his, and he became aware that he was in danger.
He did not know the time—it was barely light—but he needed to leave his wife’s bed if he was to resist his desires. He reminded himself that all he needed was patience and perseverance. She was legally and irrevocably his—he had the rest of his life to worship her, body and soul. He took a deep breath to cool his ardour lest he make his usual morning condition—which was making his breeches painfully tight—obvious to her warm, soft body, nestled much too close.
Very slowly, Darcy extracted himself from the bed. He penned a quick note and left it on the pillow next to her. She rolled onto her back, and Darcy placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. As he left, he thought he heard a contented sigh.
*****
Elizabeth awoke alone and full of regret. She knew her wifely obligation to her husband, a duty she freely admitted to herself she was growing quite curious about. She was dismayed that she could not fulfil it. That he no longer was in her bed shamed her further. Did he think she was wanton, asking him to stay? Presumably, she should not desire his nearness; that was why the refined in society had separate bedrooms. Only in the vulgar and crass lower classes did husbands and wives share beds.
Before this particular morning, Elizabeth had put little stock in such a notion. She was well aware society might say one thing, such as dictating separate bedrooms, but what happened in private moments could be quite another thing. It was all a matter of discretion. She might privately read Tom Jones but would never mention it in a drawing room. If a husband and wife felt affection for each other, why must they separate? Who would ever know? Yet, if there truly was no problem with husband
s and wives sharing a bed, why was her husband absent?
She had no idea what to do next. She had been too ill yesterday for a tour of the house. Should she prepare for her day and ask a servant to request her husband escort her to breakfast? Should she wait for his arrival? Should she descend the stairs on her own and hope to find the correct room? She laughed as she accurately recalled the location of the kitchen but not the dining parlour! At last, her eyes espied a note on the pillow next to hers, written in a masculine hand.
Loveliest Elizabeth,
You can have no idea how utterly enchanting you look as you sleep in what I hope will become our bed.
Waking with you in my arms was a delight I have never known but hope always to repeat.
I awoke early and chose to let you rest. I will be in my study attending to business, but please have a servant inform me when you are prepared for the day, and I will escort you to breakfast.
-Yours, W
Elizabeth smiled. She should have trusted her instincts. Her husband, who undoubtedly had great affection for her and even called it love—although it appeared he did not mean to say so—stated that he would not regret sharing her bed. She fingered his words on the paper. It was a tight, clear, and strong script, which perfectly reflected the character of the man who wrote it. He left it on his pillow, still carrying his scent, in place of himself. She blushed to think he had observed her as she slept but hoped to return the favour on the morrow.
As she rose, she was pleased to feel little of the discomfort from the day before. She pulled the cord to call her maid. She realised she had stained her night shift and checked the bed linens. She saw a stain there, too, just as her maid arrived.
“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy.” The maid curtsied.
“Good morning. I am sorry I do not recall your name. The laudanum has left some portions of yesterday cloudy.” Elizabeth blushed; she hated to think she had made a poor impression on her first day as mistress.
“Quite understandable, ma’am. My name is Sally.”
“Sally, do you have any idea how long Mr. Darcy has been awake?”
“I believe he had some coffee in the library above an hour ago.”
“Indeed! Then let us begin the day. I would like a bath, and you will see the bed linens need changing as well. I think my blue muslin frock will serve nicely this morning.”
“Yes, ma’am. The bath water will be up soon. Mrs. Sparks believed you would like one. Would you care for some tea as you wait?”
“Oh, no, I prefer a simple toilette. I believe we can have me ready for breakfast in half an hour after the water arrives. Would you ask a footman to inform Mr. Darcy?”
“Certainly.” The maid curtsied and left to perform her tasks.
Elizabeth began to unplait her hair and pulled it into a simple bun for her bath. She wandered into her ample dressing room and surveyed her clothing. She knew she must go shopping but knew she would not have time before leaving for Pemberley, as they were scheduled to leave on Monday. Certainly the winters there would be harsher than the winters of London or Hertfordshire as Pemberley was nearer the mountains.
Undoubtedly, her husband would press her to order her winter clothing in Town, but if they meant to spend several weeks at Pemberley, she would rather have a modiste in Lambton make her clothes, at least what she would require while there. It would be prudent for the Darcy family to extend their custom to the local shops more often. The Darcy family! She smiled at the thought.
Sally returned, and only a moment later, two chambermaids brought the bath water. The new Mrs. Darcy and her servants proceeded with her preparations.
*****
Darcy was eager to see Elizabeth and misunderstood her instructions, arriving before she had finished her bath. He was embarrassed by his mistake as he opened the door scarcely after knocking, startling the maid who was changing the bed linen. He noticed a blood stain and blushed at the thought that the maid would assume its cause. His clever Elizabeth had thought of something he had not. It certainly would not do for the servants to think the marriage unconsummated on their wedding night, especially if they hoped to pass off the baby as a product of their first days together as husband and wife.
He briefly nodded to the maid and hastily entered his own chamber. He found his room stifling and lonely. He had seldom seen the mistress’ chamber before, having no need to go there. It certainly was a lighter atmosphere, although perhaps not quite to Elizabeth’s tastes and definitely old-fashioned. It had not been redecorated since before his parents’ wedding when his grandparents lived there. His room was not inadequate, but the other room was Elizabeth’s. Her spirit and fragrance already filled the place.
After some time in his reverie, he suddenly sensed her presence next to him and looked down to see her expressive eyes gazing at him.
“What are you thinking, dear?” she asked.
He smiled at the endearment. “I was realising how lonely my life was.” He raised her hands and kissed them. “But now I have my lovely wife and will never be lonely again.” She smiled at him, and he turned her hands over to kiss her palms. He was pleased to hear her breath catch.
“Come, let us have breakfast, and then if you feel up to it, I shall give you a tour of the house.” He quirked a brow at her. “As you were so kind to point out yesterday, we live in a near hovel, so it should not take long.”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy!” She swatted at him, but he tucked her hand into his arm and led her downstairs.
Darcy regretted there would be little time to enjoy London with his bride, but he truly had matters to attend to at the estate. Darcy was delighted with Elizabeth’s excellent suggestion that she patronise a local shop in Lambton for her Derbyshire wardrobe. She was already thinking like a proper mistress of Pemberley.
Elizabeth would begin meeting with Mrs. Sparks to review the household accounts while Darcy went to assist Bingley in meeting with the solicitor. Elizabeth was surprised to hear the news, but he did not think it was his place to enlighten her as to the reasons for the changed wedding date.
Darcy led Elizabeth through the house. It was built in the 1720s and, unlike most homes in the neighbourhood, had seen few amendments. It was not enormous and instead featured three moderately sized rooms per floor. On the main floor was a small sitting room, the library, and dining parlour. The first floor had the largest drawing room and the master’s and mistress’ chambers. The second floor held a nursery and two smaller bed chambers. The third floor was the servants’ quarters.
Elizabeth was clearly quite delighted with the library and endearingly curious about the nursery. They ended the tour by returning to the library.
“Dearest, I hate to leave you on our first day as newlyweds. If it were not to be of service to Bingley and your—our—sister, nothing could tear me away.”
Darcy felt something near distress as he attempted to leave. Elizabeth was no help, as she embraced him and planted tender kisses upon his face. Her lips held just a fraction of the passion he had experienced from her before, but he found them addicting. In hindsight, he could not say who deepened the kiss as he tried to depart, only that it was utterly intoxicating, and he had no desire to ever quit this.
But he did.
His senses returned as he was bending her backwards, holding her with one arm, her hips flush against his own, while his other hand roamed her body, up from one hip, over her narrow waist, and along her ribs, gently grazing the side of a breast. She gasped and unknowingly pushed her body forward. The intense desire awakening in him surprisingly brought to mind the reality of their situation—he was to leave, and they were in the library.
He managed to straighten Elizabeth and hold her at arm’s length, hoping he did not squeeze her too tightly as he attempted to control himself. He hung his head low, then dared to look at her from under his brows. The sight of her red, swollen lips nearly made him lose control again.
Between gasping breaths, Darcy explained, “My love, you really have n
o idea how you tempt me.”
He grinned at her dazed face. He pulled her close and gently stroked her cheek before giving her a kiss on the forehead. He pulled back and allowed his hand to trail from her cheek down her arm to her hand, which he raised to kiss. Then he turned it over and placed another firmer kiss in her palm. She gasped in response, thrilling him.
“I will be back before dinner. I hope you have a pleasant day.”
She gave him a weak smile, which was all he could manage, too. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to leave his house and his new wife.
*****
After Elizabeth recovered from Darcy’s farewell, she asked a maid to send for Mrs. Sparks. Choosing to work in the library because, aside from Darcy’s desk, it had a large table, Elizabeth easily worked through the past several years of account books.
Mrs. Sparks checked her watch. “Goodness, Mrs. Darcy! The master told us you were clever, but I never expected to be able to work through five years of accounts in such quick time.”
“Oh, it is nothing. My mother was more than happy to turn over the responsibilities of the accounts when I first came out. We never had a house in Town or this income, so although the numbers are surprising, the way they are managed is not so different from an estate. I daresay not being consumed with Seasons in Town and the latest fashions was to my benefit. I can hardly imagine Mr. Darcy wanting a wife who could not run the household but could host a ball.”
The housekeeper laughed. “You can see how little he has hosted events in the past; you are most assuredly correct.”
Elizabeth sobered. “Actually, I would like to see the books from the former Mrs. Darcy. I realise it was years ago, and in a larger house, but Mr. Darcy and I have spoken about it, and we do plan to host more events. My aunt lives in Town, but anything she hosts would not compare to a party in this neighbourhood.”
“Certainly, ma’am. You can find all the old account ledgers on the same shelf as those you have reviewed. Would you like me to remain?”
Compromising Mr. Darcy Page 45