Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  At that moment, the sound of the huge Darcy coach entering the freshly laid gravel of the circular drive caught everyone’s attention and, in what seemed like seconds, it halted at the bottom of the steps. Everyone held their breath as Richard ran back down the steps, and the footman jumped off the back of the vehicle to open the door. As the servant turned the handle and pulled the door open, William’s cousin leaned in to hand Elizabeth out.

  As soon as her feet hit the ground and her head came up, her heart sank.

  What have I gotten into? This is so much grander than I ever imagined .

  As though in a daze, Elizabeth barely remembered being introduced to William’s aunt, uncle, butler, housekeeper, cook, and more maids and footmen than she could ever remember. She hoped that her smile looked sincere, for she earnestly wanted them to like her; however, Elizabeth’s knees were knocking so hard that she feared everyone could hear.

  After all the introductions were accomplished, she was escorted into the drawing room for a small party that included refreshments for everyone. The room and its furnishings were so opulent that at first Elizabeth had a hard time focusing on the members of the household, but everyone was so kind that soon the knot in her stomach relaxed and she began to enjoy herself.

  Within a short time, Olivia, a woman with whom she had felt an immediate kinship, leaned over to whisper, “Mrs. Darcy—”

  “Please, call me Elizabeth.”

  “If you will call me Aunt Olivia.” Elizabeth nodded, smiling warmly as her new aunt. “I know you must be exhausted.”

  “I confess that I am a little tired.”

  Olivia patted her hand. “What do you say to resting a bit so that you do not fall asleep at the dinner table?” She chuckled. “To be honest, I fear we shall want to keep you up all night getting acquainted.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “A short nap would be most welcome.”

  Satisfied, Olivia addressed the room. “Mrs. Darcy has had a long trip, and I believe we have engaged her long enough with our little celebration. Be assured that the festivities shall continue, though Mrs. Darcy is retiring to her room for a rest.” There were nods of approval as Olivia turned to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Reynolds, you have worked tirelessly to be certain that everything is in order. Thank you. Now, if you will be so kind as to show Mrs. Darcy to her rooms.”

  Excitedly, Mrs. Reynolds set aside the tea service. “I shall be delighted.” She swept a hand towards the drawing room door. “Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth followed the kindly servant, and the room went silent as everyone watched her leave. Just as soon as she and the housekeeper cleared the door, however, the level of conversation returned.

  A little embarrassed, the housekeeper said, “Please forgive us if we seem in awe of you, Mrs. Darcy. A good many of the servants have never served under a mistress, so this will be a new experience for them.”

  As they began up the stairs, Elizabeth asked innocently, “What of Miss Darcy? Did she not act as mistress when she became of age?”

  Mrs. Reynolds seemed to consider her answer. “Miss Darcy has lived a very sheltered life and, in many respects, is still very childlike. She was never comfortable assuming the obligations Lady Anne fulfilled. Other than being the hostess at a few dinner parties, Miss Darcy has assumed no other duties.”

  Wondering if she had misspoken, Elizabeth said no more as they continued their trek up the long staircase. She found herself mesmerised by the opulence of the rest of the house. It was absolutely breathtaking, and the farther she went, the more she felt as though she were an intruder—one soon to be found out and quickly expelled. Nevertheless, she did her best to mask her distress and carry herself with all the dignity she could muster.

  Chapter 20

  Pemberley

  The Mistress’ Bedroom

  Finally, Elizabeth and Mrs. Reynolds stood before one of a number of ornate doors in an upstairs hall. The housekeeper began sorting through a large ring of keys that she had pulled from a pocket in her skirt, each of which looked exactly like the last. She settled on one and proceeded to try the door. To Elizabeth’s amazement, the door opened, and at once the servant stepped aside to let her enter first.

  The room was huge—at least three times the size of her bedroom at Longbourn, with equally large furniture, all in gleaming mahogany. She took several steps and halted inside the cavernous space as her gaze was drawn to the deep red and gold patterned wallpaper. Though the appearance was regal and the room large enough to handle the vibrant colours, she thought it much too bold for her taste.

  What caught her attention next was a huge, canopied bed which dominated the space. It was covered with a dark-gold counterpane, while sheer scarf-like curtains in royal colours of blue, red, green, gold and purple decorated the canopy overhead. As she studied the bed itself, she pictured all of her sisters occupying it at once, and a giggle escaped. Quickly she covered her mouth, though it was too late, for Mrs. Reynolds stopped reciting all of the features of the room and turned to her.

  “Forgive me,” Elizabeth said sheepishly. “I was just contemplating such a large bed for someone of my size. I cannot fathom how I shall be able to climb into it.”

  The housekeeper smiled knowingly. “I understand completely. Lady Anne was tall, as are all the Fitzwilliams, so the bed was no problem for her. But I can imagine it looks quite high to one so petite. Let me show you what the furniture maker added to aid those who might wish some assistance.”

  As she talked, Mrs. Reynolds moved towards the bed and pulled back the counterpane near the floor. She exposed a lever that, when engaged, let down two small steps.

  “When the master was a small boy, Lady Anne would leave these steps down so that he might come into her bed whenever he was afraid.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my! I should not have mentioned that. I am not sure that Mr. Darcy remembers it, and he might be embarrassed for anyone to know.”

  “Rest assured that I will never repeat it, but might I say something?” When the housekeeper nodded, she continued. “Though I am not as familiar with him as you, Mr. Darcy does not impress me as the type of person to ever be frightened—even as a child.”

  “There may be an air of invincibility about him now, but when he was very young, perhaps four or five, he did have night terrors for a long while. They began after one of his siblings was born a month early and his father was away on an unavoidable business trip. The local physician was summoned but did not reach Pemberley in time to assist with the birth. I had to aid Mrs. Darcy and, having my hands full, I did not realise that the master had slipped into this room and was watching. He hid in the corner, behind that chair.”

  The housekeeper’s face took on a painful mien as she looked towards a high-back chair in the corner. Silent for a time, it was as though she were reliving the event. Then abruptly she began again to explain more fully.

  “Evidently, he witnessed his brother take his last breath not more than twenty minutes after he was born. It was only much later, when I passed through the sitting room, that I heard crying and found him hiding behind the curtains, inconsolable. As I questioned what upset him, it became clear that the poor boy thought that his mother had died along with his brother. Blessedly, Lady Anne fainted after the baby died, so when her wails ended, he believed she had died as well. My dear master has had his share of heartaches; that is certain.”

  “If I may ask, did his parents lose any other children?”

  “Other than the boy I spoke of, there were two stillbirths, both girls, and, if I recall correctly, four miscarriages. We were all astounded when Miss Georgiana was born with little trouble. It brought everyone great happiness, including her brother.”

  “I can only imagine. Thank you for sharing this with me, and be assured that I shall never mention it.”

  “Thank you. Now, as I was saying before I began on that subject, this suite has not been refurbished since Lady Anne died. When Mr. Darcy sent word that he was to be married, he instruct
ed me to obtain samples of the latest wallpapers, paints and fabrics from London. He intends for you to decorate the rooms to your liking, even ordering new furniture if you wish.”

  Elizabeth sighed. More evidence of his thoughtfulness.

  Not aware of Elizabeth’s dismay, the housekeeper continued to explain. “I have placed all of the samples on the desk in your private study, so you may undertake the changes whenever you have time. Should you decide to replace the furniture, I have also ordered brochures from the finest furniture makers, though they have not arrived as yet.”

  Elizabeth managed to stammer, “I... I have a private study?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It is located on this floor at the end of the first hall to the right. It has a balcony which overlooks the rose garden. Lady Anne loved to work there—even out on the balcony when it was a pretty day. From her perch, she could supervise the placement of new selections.” Mrs. Reynolds chuckled softly. “She often laughed about how, from that vantage point, she could find so much more that needed doing. And she was fond of telling the gardeners that God loved beautiful gardens; after all, He created Eden.”

  Elizabeth laughed aloud, which seemed to delight the housekeeper and caused her to continue. “Lady Anne once told me that she overheard a young apprentice, who did not realise that she was listening from above, say, “I do hope God is not as persnickety as Mrs. Darcy!”

  “What a lovely sense of humour!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “She must have been a wonderful person. I am sure you miss her terribly.”

  “Words cannot say,” Mrs. Reynolds replied wistfully. Then taking a deep breath, she assumed her usual demeanour. “However, we are all of us delighted to have a new Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley. If I am allowed to say, I was beginning to doubt we ever would.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Most men of his station are already married by his age. I believe he waited because Pemberley is too dear to him to entrust to just anyone."

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. “I... I do not know what to say.”

  “You need not say anything. Your presence attests to the fact that my master trusts you with those things that are nearest to his heart.”

  Remembering all the charges she had thrown at William, Elizabeth was mortified and could not form an answer. Her silence gave the housekeeper the opportunity to take her leave.

  “Mrs. O’Reilly has been assigned several rooms below stairs, next to my own. I understand that she is already settled in and resting. When it is near time for dinner, I shall direct her here so that she may learn which rooms are yours. She will be here in time to help you dress, if that is agreeable to you.”

  “It is, thank you.”

  Mrs. Reynolds smiled widely. “If you would like to undress before your nap, I began as a lady’s maid and have not forgotten my craft. I shall be pleased to help you or, should you desire, I can send for Mrs. O’Reilly now.”

  “I do wish to be freed of this corset, but there is no need to disturb Mrs. O’Reilly. If you will undo the buttons and untie me, I can handle the rest. After all, I shared one maid with four sisters, so I can do a great deal for myself.”

  Looking somewhat confused by Elizabeth’s confession, Mrs. Reynolds said nothing as she helped her new mistress undress. Once she was finished, she curtseyed and left the room.

  Unburdened of her tight corset, Elizabeth took a deep breath of air—something she could not do when dressed as a proper lady. Then after taking another turn about the handsome room, examining exquisite items perched on every surface, she returned to inspect the beautiful bed. Pulling back the counterpane, champagne-coloured silk sheets beckoned and, after running her hands along the cool, smooth fabric, she proceeded to step onto the stool and crawl to the middle of the bed. Like a child, she fell back into the pile of plump pillows and slid her hands and feet up and down as she did when creating snow angels, while giggling in sheer delight.

  Only seconds later, the enormity of her present circumstances came rushing back, bringing all frivolity to a standstill. Elizabeth’s heart filled with dread as she considered what she had ruined... perhaps forever.

  Never lose sight of the fact that your childish behaviour is what got you in this predicament! You have made a shambles of your marriage, and if you have a chance of redemption, you must attempt to be the best mistress Pemberley has ever known. Even that may not be enough to repair the damage done.

  The burden of regret brought even more fatigue and, when she closed her eyes, she instantly fell into a restless sleep.

  LONDON

  Younge’s Boarding House

  The next day

  Andrew Darcy was not unaware that he would be looked upon as an easy target by most of his fellow boarders at Mrs. Younge’s establishment, for normally he wore the clothes of a gentleman, and that alone caused him to stand out among those who frequented the place. Thus, to avoid being noticed, he rose early and departed the premises, not returning until late in the evening, just before dark. In addition, he wore an older, shabbier overcoat whenever he went out. This caution kept him on an entirely different schedule than those who drank until dawn, slept all day and rose at dark to steal from the unsuspecting, afterward using the pickings to gamble.

  Nonetheless, in spite of his watchfulness, as Andrew returned to the inn this day, the proprietress waved at him before he could take the stairs. Though he fervently wished to disappear from sight, he had no alternative other than to find out what she wanted. As Eunice Younge approached, she gave him a look that he assumed was supposed to be enticing, one he pretended not to notice.

  “Mr. Smith,” she said with a wink. “I have not seen you in days.”

  “I have business.”

  “I just imagine you have, for ole Brumeloe is waiting to speak to you.”

  With the name she gave a nod of her head towards a table in the corner where a lone, rough-looking man sat watching them. Swallowing hard, Andrew tried to appear not to know to whom she referred, though he guessed half of London knew that the man had a reputation for doing whatever needed to be done—for a price. That was why he had hired him.

  “I am sure I do not know the man, but I shall see what he wants.” To distract the innkeeper, he dug several coins out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Here is a bit more on my account.”

  “Indeed!” Mrs. Younge said, her eyes lighting up as she added the coins. “You are a far cry from most of my customers who slink out in the dark without paying. You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

  “Your hospitality is appreciated,” Andrew said, as he began towards Mr. Brumeloe. “Now I shall see what this fellow wants with me.”

  Once he had reached the table, Andrew looked back to see that Mrs. Younge had returned to the kitchen. He leaned over the table. “I thought I told you not to come here!”

  “Excuse me, gov’ner, but I needed a pint, and this was as good a spot as any ter ‘ave one while I waited for ya.”

  “Fine!” Andrew declared, visibly irritated. “Follow me to my room before someone sees us together.”

  Both men went up the stairs. It was not until the door closed soundly, however, that their discussion began.

  “That Miss Bunting—that one wot ‘ad yer boy—she would not agree ter sail ter tha Americas, even wif promises of passage and coins. She told me that yer cousin was takin’ care of ‘er and tha lad proper, and she ‘ad nah intention of messin’ wif ya again.”

  "What of Miss Carden?”

  “Precisely why I am ‘ere. I did not ‘ave a bloody chance ter talk ter her, for I was found out straightaway.”

  “What do you mean found out?”

  “Yer cousin ‘ired a steward called Mr. ‘obson. Tha old fool over’eard me talkin’ ter Miss Bunting in tha kitchen and threw a proper fit. Said ‘e was gonna ‘old me for Mr. Darcy, ‘e did. When ‘e tried ter shout for ‘elp, we got in a struggle. I don’t mind sayin’ ‘e was powerful strong for ‘is age and almost got tha bloody better of me. It too
k an iron pan ter get ‘im off me. That would ‘ave settled it, I suppose, but suddenly tha ‘ole room was in flames.”

  “A fire? You started a fire at Fitz’s estate?” Andrew groaned, sinking down on the rock hard bed. “Oh, my Lord!”

  “’Tweren’t me. It was tha old man! While we was fightin’, ‘e knocked a can of kerosene over, one wot was too near the ‘earf. Once the oil hit the ‘earf, there was no goin’ back.”

  By now Andrew was on his feet again, pacing. “Then what happened?”

  “As I regained my feet, tha woman ran through tha door ter tha parlour, I suppose after tha lad. Tha old man tried ter folla, but tha fire spread too fast. As I went out tha back, ‘obson passed me ‘eadin’ ter tha front. It weren’t nah use, for tha building was ablaze by then. Seein’ that it was ‘opeless, ‘e gave chase after me. That old man must ‘ave followed me through tha bleedin’ woods for ‘alf a mile before I lost ‘im. I ‘eard later that tha woman and boy was killed in tha fire.”

  Andrew covered his face with his hands. “Fitz will kill me,” he mumbled. Then taking his ire out on Brumeloe, he hissed, “My cousin will not only hunt you down, but he will see that you hang and me along with you.”

  Brumeloe’s eyes narrowed. “Won’t be tha bloody first time I’ve been ‘unted. That is why I came fer me bread and ‘oney. I’m off ter Scotland ter let me ‘eels cool for a while.”

  “I said I would pay you if you got those women to leave England. I never told you to kill anyone,” Andrew spit out.

  “Tha results tha same, if ya ask me. That one and ‘er brat won’t be costin’ ya another farthin’.” Brumeloe pulled a long knife from his boot and began running his finger over the edge of the blade. “Tha way I sees it, I almost got killed, and I ‘ad ter walk miles through tha woods, leaving a good ‘orse behind. I deserve me wages.”

  Knowing that he would likely extract the money if he did not give it willingly, Andrew reluctantly handed over the twenty pounds he had promised.

  “Get out of here! I never want to see you again.”