Compromising Mr. Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  “We obviously had to confess everything to my father. Henry tried to take the blame, as he was older, but my father punished me more harshly. He said there was a difference between being the master and the responsibilities of a second son, as Henry is. I cannot always have my own way. My opinion may not always be sound, my choices affect others—innocent others—and many will defer to me even when they know me to be wrong. Other than Henry and Father, no one else aside from the stable hands knows of that foolishness. I was too proud to dare let someone think ill of me, even as a child.”

  Elizabeth was astonished at his opinion of the incident. She shook her head. He always held himself more accountable than others. His words broke through her thoughts, “And you?”

  “When I was fifteen, my mother had gone to Meryton and left Jane and me behind. Mrs. Long called, and we sat with her. Jane rang for tea, but Mrs. Long did not think it was arriving quickly enough, so I was to speak to the housekeeper. Instead, I went down to the kitchen and switched out the sugar for salt when the cook was not watching. Mrs. Long, among many other faults, was excessively stingy with sugar in her own house, but as a visitor, she took her tea with heaps and heaps of it. I believe I cured her of that!

  “Mrs. Long eagerly retold the neighbourhood of her dreadful experience, and when Mama heard of it, she shouted at poor Cook. I had no choice but to explain my wrongdoing to Father, who waved me off. I think that was the first time I became conscious that my actions affect many others and to treat my servants with true respect and esteem. He never told my mother, but I decided to apologise to Cook.”

  “Good Lord, Elizabeth,” Darcy said in an awestruck tone.

  “I know, it was so terrible of me!”

  “No, it is rather amusing. I can imagine Mrs. Long’s expression, even!” He chuckled. “I would ask why you were receiving callers at fifteen, but I believe I can guess.”

  “Yes, Mama had us all out that young. I know it sounds ridiculous, but she was always so worried about the entail. Her father died young and very suddenly.”

  “Dear, I am not judging your mother. As much as I jested about the six potential offers for you at Bingley’s ball, I only just realised that at any point in the last five years, you might have married another. I might never have found you!” He squeezed her tightly.

  Elizabeth let out a mirthless laugh. “There was hardly any chance of that. Jane was the one with all the suitors.”

  “No one wrote you verses?”

  “Hardly!”

  He hugged her tight again. “Then I shall be the first.”

  “Hmm,” she said, then sighed.

  “That was a heavy sigh, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “I am just happy.”

  She could feel Darcy’s smile as he kissed her forehead. “I am glad.”

  They had been silent for several minutes before he added, “And Elizabeth, I would have found you. I was always meant to find you.”

  She replied, so softly even she could barely hear it, “Yes, you were.”

  During her musings, Elizabeth had not realised her hand continued to stroke over Darcy’s chest and absently journeyed lower, lower, until she heard a harsh intake of breath.

  She pulled her hand away and looked up at Darcy’s face, discovering his eyes on her with such intensity and longing she felt aflame. Fleetingly, she acknowledged that she felt no fear, only trust. Conveying with her eyes what her mouth could not say, she eagerly met Darcy’s passionate kisses.

  *****

  The sun was a little higher in the sky than it was the day before when Elizabeth and Darcy finally sat down for breakfast. Darcy pretended to ignore the smirks of the footmen as they brought the trays to the dining parlour. He could hardly blame them and was in much too good a mood to care.

  “Elizabeth, I regret very much that I must say this, given our separation all day yesterday, but as we agreed to miss service this morning and you know I needed to tend to some business matters in London, and I truly need to spend some time at it today. I dislike leaving you alone again for an entire day. I know you will meet her this evening, but I could ask if my sister has time to call after church.”

  “Oh! I would enjoy that. I was sorry to not meet her at the wedding.” She coloured a little. “That is, I understand why it was not possible. I only hope she will like me. I will very much miss having all my sisters.”

  He smiled. “She will love you. Perhaps while we wait to hear the response, you might sit in the library with me as I write letters?”

  “It would be a pleasure.”

  Darcy could barely contain his chuckle. It certainly was.

  “Will you tell me more about the relatives I will meet this afternoon?” she asked.

  “Certainly. You have met my uncle already. Aunt Eleanor is much like you: clever and kind. Their eldest son, Frederick, Viscount Arlington, is jovial and a great orator. The next son is Henry, the one in the War Office. He will flirt outrageously with you. He cannot resist a pretty face and enjoys provoking me in all things. Laura and her husband, Stephen, the Baron of Halifax, will also be present. She is friendly and witty, and Stephen is a very sensible man, although he has a peculiar fascination with all things nautical, as he had wanted to join the navy, and might bore you on the subject. He and Henry get into rousing debates on their merits within the military. The youngest, John, may be absent as he may still be in court then, but he is very affable.

  He paused for a moment. “I said it before, but Georgiana truly will love you. You know the trials she has faced. I beg you do not perceive her shyness as arrogance. I believe you could be a true friend to her, help restore her confidence and open nature. You are very gifted with people, Elizabeth.”

  “Thank you. I would like that. I would like to have her as a friend, as well as a sister.”

  Darcy hoped he did not perceive a hint of nervousness in her voice. Perhaps she was concerned about being lonely, coming from a house so full of family to just him and eventually his sister. Until the baby comes, he reminded himself. He frequently needed to remind himself of the baby coming. They had not spoken of it since the night before their wedding, but they would have more time to worry over preparations when they arrived at Pemberley.

  He suspected until she exhibited more signs of the pregnancy or clearly showed her condition that he would have difficulty realising its effects on his life. Even when he believed her ill upon reaching the house, he did not consider the pregnancy the cause until the doctor explained matters.

  Their meal was soon complete. Elizabeth asked to write the letter to Georgiana, and soon they settled in the library together. Darcy attended to business while Elizabeth read. He smiled at the quiet contentment they shared, much like the day that changed his life forever, but without the agony of believing she would never be his. He smiled to himself and shook his head at the memory of the fool of a man who sat in the Netherfield library nearly three weeks ago, insisting he needed to conquer his infatuation with Elizabeth.

  She occasionally hummed some tune, and other than a solitary remark or two, they seemed almost accepting of the necessity to be employed in their separate matters. Darcy had not realised how much time had passed until there was a knock on the library door, followed by a cry of alarm from Elizabeth.

  “Elizabeth! What has happened?” He made for her side, surprised to see at some point she had stopped reading and had been sewing a garment.

  “Your handkerchief!” She jumped up and met him half way.

  He obediently produced it, and she dabbed at her finger with the edge. There was another knock at the door. Certain she was well, Darcy bade the servant enter. He arrived with a note from his sister at Sidney House.

  Darcy turned to Elizabeth just as she was removing the soiled handkerchief. The blot was not very large, but she was frowning at it just the same. Darcy had some odd impression that he had seen this before and, after a moment, seized upon the notion that this must be how Elizabeth produced the blood for their linens the day be
fore. The blots were similar in size.

  “I am sorry. I am so clumsy!” She blushed and seemed unsure what to do with the soiled cloth.

  “Give it to me. I will set it aside and let Jennings determine if it is worth laundering.”

  “Oh, I am certain it is ruined. I am no stranger to bloodied handkerchiefs, you see. I am terrible at embroidery and apparently am little better as a seamstress. Perhaps we might cleverly cut around it and make a little doll to send with the rest of the items.”

  “The rest of the items?”

  “I noticed the Darcy family has a long history of being particularly charitable to the Foundling Hospital.” She raised her chin a little. “I know it is quite the fashion to donate clothing and baskets to them as well as cash. Lucky for the children, the great ladies care to think about them this season.”

  “Thank you for caring so much about our charitable interests.” He paused for a moment. “Am I correct to assume you dislike the false charity some ladies bestow on the hospital?”

  “I would never criticise anyone for their services, but does not Scripture teach us that true charity comes from a cheerful heart? To give grudgingly or for the sake of fashion is not at all what God asks of us.”

  Darcy smiled and took her by the unwounded hand, leading her back to the sofa. After kissing her forehead, he said, “You are already such a great mistress for our homes, Elizabeth. Now it seems you have received your answer from Georgiana.”

  Elizabeth eagerly took the note he extended to her. Upon reading the favourable reply, the two readied for their plans.

  Quickly completing his other business, which was a call on a business associate, Darcy arrived at Dr. Ashton’s home in Hans Town and nervously waited to be shown into his private parlour. Absently, Darcy mused that the doctor’s home was nearer the fashionable Hyde Park than his own.

  “Mr. Darcy, is your wife feeling unwell again?” the gentlemanly doctor asked when Darcy was seated.

  “No, and I am surprised you know of it already.”

  “Matthews sent a note to me. I like to keep up on my patients, even after an absence, and he knows you always send for me first.”

  Darcy averted his eyes a little. It rankled his morals that so few men were surprised or disgusted at the obvious truth that he had bedded a gentleman’s daughter before marriage. Regardless of how many gentlemen visited the brothels, most did not trifle with gentlemen’s daughters. He realised he ought to be thankful for the lack of condemnation, but he still could not entirely clear it with his own conscience, and he hated the hypocrisy others applied to the situation. Gentlemen’s daughters were not left alone because the men had respect for the ladies but because of their rank, as though a servant or tradesman’s daughter was less human.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I...uh...it seems I need some clarification on how to care for my wife.” He loathed that he could not make himself speak plainly on the subject, but to do so was simply too vulgar. He excelled at forthright business conversation; skirting around societal niceties was another matter entirely.

  “Care for her? She ought to be feeling quite well in a matter of days. This indisposition is entirely normal for ladies, and one, I might add, you ought to get used to.” Darcy’s relief must have shown, for Dr. Ashton chuckled. “I understand Matthews was called as soon as you arrived home from your wedding ceremony?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Darcy, you recall I was friends with your father?” Darcy nodded. “And although I know your uncle, the earl, is very approachable, it is possible you may have reservations about discussing certain matters. As a long and happily married man, may I give you some advice?”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  “These times in a wife’s life are brief compared to all that follows. Although the timing is unfortunate, it is by no means alarming or unusual. I am certain she will welcome your attentions when all is well, and it is quite possible you will not be faced with this concern again for many months.”

  “And you are certain I cannot harm her?”

  “Harm? She might experience mild discomfort and pain.”

  Darcy furrowed his brows. He hated the idea of bringing her pain...again.

  “Now come on, man! It cannot be helped. All ladies manage it quite well. Indeed, it is nothing compared to the bearing of children. You obviously care for her. Now, where is your sense? If women were continually and severely harmed by the act, we would hardly have so many people about. Indeed, I believe some ladies even find pleasure in their husband’s attentions!”

  Darcy managed to chuckle at the logic of the doctor. And I know I can bring her pleasure. Standing, he stretched his hand out to the older gentleman. “Very well; thank you for easing my mind. It was pleasant meeting with you again, Dr. Ashton, but I hope I will not require your services again for several months.” So saying, Darcy was able to return home with a happier mind, ready to prepare for their evening with his relations.

  *****

  At Darcy House, Elizabeth nervously waited for Miss Darcy and her companion to arrive. She had expected Miss Darcy to be as acute an observer as her brother but immediately saw she was immeasurably shy but eager for friendship. She smiled warmly at the girl.

  “Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “I am so happy to meet you! I have heard from William about you, and I know you will make him happy! I am so pleased you are married now!” She blushed as she clearly thought twice of her enthusiasm. “Excuse me, I forgot my manners.” She blushed again. “This is my companion, Mrs. Annesley. Mrs. Annesley, my new sister, Mrs. Darcy.” She beamed.

  Elizabeth curtsied, then took Miss Darcy’s hands. “And as your new sister, I really must beg that you call me Elizabeth or Lizzy.” She looked at Mrs. Annesley. “Both of you.”

  Miss Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hands and bounced on her toes. “And you must call me Georgiana or Georgie.”

  “I would be pleased if you addressed me as Ruth, ma’am,” Mrs. Annesley said.

  “Please sit. Refreshments will arrive shortly.” Elizabeth waited for her companions to be seated. “Will you be journeying with us to Pemberley, Georgiana?”

  The girl shook her head. “No, I have lessons in Town and do not prefer Derbyshire when it is so cold. I will come when Uncle Sidney and Aunt Eleanor return to their estate for Christmas. Or perhaps you will not wish for us to be at Pemberley then; I should not presume.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I would never wish to stop or change family traditions. William and I have not discussed Christmas yet, but I think I will enjoy the whole family together.” She smiled. “It will be an adjustment for me! I will be sorry to miss your company until Christmas. I have four sisters and am afraid your brother will have his hands full attempting to keep me as amused as they did. Soon he will hide in his library all day and lock the door!”

  “But William writes of how much he loves your company! And he tolerates even the worst people, like my Aunt Catherine and Miss Bingley!” She covered her mouth, and her eyes bulged wide. She had spoken quite out of turn.

  Elizabeth patted the young lady’s knee. “I was only teasing, dear. And never fear. I have had the pleasure of meeting both ladies. You are quite correct. However, your brother treats them with the utmost civility.”

  “Unlike me.” She hung her head.

  “Georgie, look at me.” Her head snapped up.

  “I assure you, I have heard far more unguarded things from my sisters and certainly thought them of those two myself. We are sisters now; let us not be so formal. If you cannot express yourself with family, then you will be consumed with fear of speaking to anyone.”

  “Yes! That is exactly it!” Georgiana nodded, and Elizabeth wondered if she had perhaps understood another part of her husband’s character as well.

  “Your companion may scold me for being a bad example, but I can be nothing but myself, and if you were perfect all the time, I think I would grow quite afraid of you,”
Elizabeth said with a reassuring smile.

  “Afraid of me?” Georgian’s porcelain skin wrinkled in confusion.

  “Yes, I would be afraid you were always judging and finding fault. I admit I thought it of your brother when we first met.”

  Georgiana gasped. “No! It is only that he hates being talked about and does not know what to say to strangers…”

  Elizabeth interrupted. “I do understand that now, my dear. I only bring this up because it can do us good to understand how others may perceive us—even if it is only because of our own fears.”

  “I would hate for someone to think that I disliked them simply because I am afraid to speak.”

  “Exactly, and that is what we shall work on. The company of a sister close to your age is very different from a much older brother.”

  Georgiana glanced towards Mrs. Annesley as though asking for permission. “Go on, dear. I quite agree with her.”

  “William is the best brother, but you are very right. Your company is also different from my cousins. Laura is William’s age, and Anne is so ill.”

  Elizabeth squeezed Georgiana’s hand. “It sounds as though you have been a little lonely. We will get to know each other better over Christmas. For now, I understand you are very musical!”

  The ladies talked about music until Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley needed to leave to prepare for that night’s dinner at Sidney House. Darcy arrived in only enough time to dress for dinner. The houses were too short a distance to encourage discussion, and Elizabeth’s nerves made her quieter than usual.

  Her greeting from the earl surprised the room. “Mrs. Darcy!” he exclaimed before enveloping her in a hug.

  Once she recovered, she looked at Darcy, who had a fond smile on his face and laughter in his eyes. His other relatives were exactly as he had described them. She was surprised to meet a Lord and Lady Tiswell and their daughter, Sophia. The viscount’s attention was frequently drawn to Sophia, who enjoyed the attention immensely. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she was reminded of Lydia, although an older version.