Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  “Memory box?”

  “This is my memory box,” Elizabeth chuckled, tapping the mahogany box. “It is where I keep my treasures—all things that remind me of significant times.” She opened a secret drawer on the bottom of the box, exposing several more pressed flowers, including a white rose with a white ribbon. “This was in my wedding bouquet.”

  “What a marvellous idea. I have a jewellery box, but nothing large enough to keep all my treasures. I shall have to ask Joseph to get me one for our anniversary.”

  “The Gardiners gave me this box for my birthday. My uncle keeps many in his warehouse of all sizes and types of wood.”

  “I shall write to Madeline, then and ask her to recommend one. By the way, have you heard from her lately?”

  “Yes. In fact, I got three letters the afternoon William departed—one from my aunt and one from Jane. She also included a note from Papa.”

  “How is your family, if I may ask?”

  For the first time since William’s departure, Elizabeth’s expression settled into an easy smile. “There is nothing much to say regarding Jane and Bingley. They are truly as happy as two people so alike can be. Jane did ask me to come home for a visit, for she wants me to see her wedding dress and decide on a material for my gown. I am to stand up with her, just as Fitzwilliam is to stand with Mr. Bingley.”

  “That is understandable. After all, you and she are very close, and it only follows that she would want you to be a part of her wedding plans. As for Mr. Bingley, Fitzwilliam has had nothing but good things to say of him since they were both in university. So it is not surprising that he is Bingley’s choice.”

  At Elizabeth’s nod, she continued, “I take it all your family is well, or Jane would have mentioned it, but I have to wonder how your father is taking your absence.”

  “My family is well. As for Papa, he is an observer of people and a man of few words, but he admits to missing me terribly, which touches my heart. He would normally never say anything of that nature.” She looked thoughtful. “He allows that he has no one sensible with whom to discuss literature now that I am married. I believe that to be true, not because I am so clever, but because, other than Jane, my sisters are not interested in improving their minds. And, of course, now Jane is too busy with wedding plans.”

  “It is a shame your younger sisters do not wish to learn, for I believe that a woman needs to know all she can about the world she lives in, and a wide variety of interests is healthy.”

  “If only they felt the same but, alas, they do not. Lastly, there is the letter from my aunt. She writes that she is doing well, but increasing so fast that all her dresses have had to be let out. And she allows that she finds it difficult to get in and out of the carriage.” She giggled. “I believe she is exaggerating.”

  “She looked so slender when she was here that I forget that she is expecting. And I do not recall when she said the child is due.”

  “The middle of November.”

  “Yes, now I remember thinking it will arrive before Christmas. Speaking of babies, you should be expecting soon, if you are not already.”

  A flame of scarlet crept across Elizabeth’s cheeks. “There is something that I wanted to share with you, but I was afraid that you would think I was jumping to conclusions. And I would never confide in Fitzwilliam, not until I was absolutely sure, but—”

  Olivia gently squeezed her hand, “Whatever you say is between us, and nothing is too small to mention.”

  Elizabeth shoulders relaxed. “My courses are a week late. Of course, that has happened before—whenever I come under great stress. And, heaven knows, my relationship with Georgiana has been strained. I did not think she could be more unsociable, but she is worse since William and I have reconciled our differences.”

  “Do not fret over Georgiana. Believe me when I say that you are not the cause of her behaviour. It started long before her brother met you. Now,” she smiled conspiratorially, “you are correct in that a week is not long enough to say for certain that you are with child.”

  Elizabeth’s smile waned as she looked down. Olivia lifted her chin so their eyes met.

  “I know how you feel, dear. You want so badly to share your hopes with someone who is not your husband, for you fear raising his expectations and then having to say that you were wrong.”

  “It is as though you can read my mind.”

  “Remember, I was once a young bride, too. And with you and Fitzwilliam as my children by choice, I am still a mother. So feel free to confide in me anything you wish—hopes, dreams and concerns. I welcome the chance to be useful.”

  Elizabeth threw herself into her arms. “Oh, Aunt Olivia, you are so much more than useful; you are loved! Thank you for being like a mother to me.”

  As they held one another, swaying side to side, Olivia could not hold back a few stray tears. Then, after a while, Elizabeth stepped back. She was grinning. “If you still want to work on those coats, I should like to join you.”

  “I was hoping you would. A task is made so much lighter when it is shared.”

  CHESTERFIELD

  Laughlin Manor

  The first full day at Laughlin Manor, William assumed that the men who filled every available guest room were there to participate in the three-day bird shoot the viscount had organised, for no wives were present and the sport occupied all but him and his host. He and Lord Laughlin, of course, were busy looking over horses, making plans and agreeing on prices. Nonetheless, the earl made it clear that after dinner he expected William to join him and his other guests at the card tables. Never one to gamble, William still felt obligated to be sociable, so he agreed to play a few rounds, then he intended to excuse himself and retire. Truthfully, his only aspiration was to go to bed early in order to rise equally early and return to Elizabeth.

  However, immediately following dinner and whilst seated at a card table, a curious and inexplicable uneasiness washed over him when he noticed that the room was full of ladies—that is, if one referred to everything in a skirt as a lady. By the time his first game had concluded, a strange phenomenon had occurred. Laughlin Manor had transformed from manor house into something akin to a fancy brothel. Suggestively dressed women were everywhere—sitting in laps, leaning over the shoulders of those playing cards and latching themselves onto arms as they strolled up the twin staircases to the bedrooms above. It was obvious, too, that this state of affairs suited most of those present, though not William.

  Unfortunately, he was clearly the handsomest man there and the chief target of the majority of the women. Watching his growing discomfort seemed just the thing to keep his hosts amused. For both Lord Laughlin and his son eagerly anticipated seeing the staid Mr. Darcy prove human by succumbing to temptation. Even so, as each woman dared to approach him, they provoked the same reaction. First, they would try to make conversation, whilst he all but ignored them and his face fell abruptly into stern lines. Then they would surreptitiously drape themselves over his shoulders, feigning interest in his cards. This would precipitate his coming to his feet and tactfully suggesting they find someone else to admire. It proved extremely entertaining, and the audience grew until, unable to keep his mind on the game, William slid his chair back, mumbled something about getting a drink and walked toward the decanters that Lord Laughlin had set up against one wall. He had barely taken the first sip of his glass of brandy, when a hand gripped his arm. This caused him to flinch and turn to the interloper with fire in his eyes.

  “Calm down, Darcy,” the earl smirked. “It is only me.”

  Several men standing nearby, including the viscount, laughed aloud. This irritated William, and, instead of replying, he took another swallow.

  “My son and I noticed that you do not seem to appreciate all the forbidden fruit right under your nose. Some of the ladies, ripe for the picking I might add, came all the way from London just for these three days. I would have thought that a man such as you would jump at the chance to sample a bit of muslin. After a
ll, Mrs. Darcy is not here, and she will never know.”

  William stiffened, which caused Laughlin to remove his arm and step back. “Then it appears that you do not know me well at all. Besides, though she is absent, I would never break my vows to my wife.”

  By then the viscount had walked over, followed by his friends. Hearing what William said, he drunkenly replied, “Who would have thought that the great Darcy enjoyed being under a woman’s foot. I considered you a real man until now.”

  “A real man keeps his word to his business associates, his friends and foremost, to his wife. Any man who will break his vows to his wife will break his word to you. Now, if you gentlemen,” the inflection he gave the word made it obvious that he did not think they were, “will excuse me, I am going to bed. I leave at dawn, and I wish to be well-rested.”

  The viscount guffawed, too inebriated to realise that he had been insulted. “If rest is what you seek, then you have come to the wrong place. I imagine the celebrating will keep you up all night.”

  “Perhaps it may, but not because I am a part of it. Goodnight.”

  With that, William set his glass down and walked towards one of the twin staircases. As he did, one of the more handsome ladies silently followed him. Seeing her trailing his reluctant guest, the earl winked at his son.

  “Maybe Darcy will be up all night, after all.” Then he looked around the room. “Come! Let us find wenches to keep us company.”

  REACHING THE DOOR OF the room he was assigned, William began to relax as he turned the knob and entered. However, before he could shut and lock the door, a woman slipped in through the slight opening. Instantly he reacted, grabbing her wrist before she could go further. As he took note of her auburn hair, green eyes and lush figure, she gave him a brilliant smile. Yet her smile did not seem to have the desired effect on her prey.

  “I know who you are, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered lustily, trying to move closer to him. His iron grip prevented her ploy. “My name is Flo, and I used to see you in London all the time. Once Viscount Leighton escorted me to the theatre and the two of you spoke in your box whilst I waited behind him. You looked straight at me that night, and I fancied that you liked what you saw, for I had wet the bosom of my gown, and nothing was left to the imagination.”

  “Frankly, that would have revolted me, madam. Now, I suggest you return downstairs where your cleverness is more likely to be admired.”

  She was not deterred and smiled even more sweetly. “Hear me out. I have desired you ever since that night, and I vowed to have you if the opportunity ever came my way. Your cousin says that I am the best whore he has ever bedded, and I will not ask for a farthing in payment. I just want us to enjoy ourselves.”

  This time William’s grip tightened enough that her wrist began to hurt. “Hear me, and hear me well. I am married to the kindest, most beautiful woman in England, if not the entire world. I love her dearly, and you could never, ever, tempt me to betray her.”

  As the truth sank in with finality, Flo did something totally unexpected. She began to laugh.

  “When we were told what men would be here tonight, all of us talked of how we would be the one to seduce you. Now I learn that not a one of us could have succeeded. I have never known any man to turn down my favours, Mr. Darcy. You are the first! Will you tell your wife something for me?” At William’s raised brow she added, “Tell her that she is a very lucky woman.”

  With that, she tried to kiss his cheek, but he would not allow it. Chuckling, she walked into the hallway. There she issued a final warning as he closed the door.

  “May I suggest that you put a chair under your doorknob?” She pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. “Lord Laughlin has given all the ladies a set of keys that will unlock any room, even yours. Good night, Mr. Darcy.”

  With those words of caution, she left. Immediately, William shut the door and locked it. Then thinking of what she had said, he moved a nearby chest until it blocked the door. No one would be able to move it without waking him. Satisfied, he quickly undressed and crawled into bed. He was dreaming of Elizabeth almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Chapter 35

  Pemberley

  The day dawned sunny and bright at Pemberley, with summer clouds floating feathery overhead. On such days Mrs. Reynolds was normally in an excellent mood, and she should have been this day, since she planned to visit a friend in Lambton. The rain of yesterday had ceased, which meant she could travel there swiftly and be back at Pemberley in plenty of time to greet the master when he returned. Most of the household, including Mrs. Darcy, assumed that Mr. Darcy would not arrive until nearly dark, but after inadvertently catching him and his wife in a passionate embrace before he left, Mrs. Reynolds had a feeling that he would return much earlier than expected.

  Despite the beautiful weather, however, the housekeeper’s mood was gloomy, for she was not so focused on Mr. Darcy’s return as she was on what she must relate to him when he returned. Two of the maids, Clara and Polly, had been in her office about a week past with a tale regarding Miss Darcy’s maid, Florence. Mrs. Reynolds had no reason not to believe them, and she had listened intently as they related the results of their surveillance of the lady’s maid. Both claimed to have observed Florence in the servants’ hall outside Mrs. Darcy’s bedroom with her ear to the wall. This was highly irregular, as she had no business in that hall. She had assured the maids that she would investigate and charged them not to tell anyone else. That night, the one before Mr. Darcy left for Chesterfield, she had discovered Florence there herself. Several loud footsteps had sent the maid scurrying back to her own quarters.

  Not one to speak before thinking it through, the old housekeeper had not confronted Florence nor brought up the matter with the master before he left. She preferred to wait until his return, for Miss Darcy was very fond of her maid and would no doubt stand up for her. Mrs. Reynolds worried that this might be the final conflict that would sever the bond between the Darcy siblings—a tenuous one that Andrew Darcy had left mostly in tatters before he was thrown out of Pemberley.

  As all of these things went through her head, Mrs. Reynolds hurried down the hall that led to the back entrance. Mrs. Darcy and the Fitzwilliams were in the gardens, and she wanted to let the mistress know that she was ready to leave. As she stepped out the back door, the scene playing out before her made her laugh aloud. For at that exact moment, Elizabeth had jumped up from the swing where she was sitting to chase one of the master’s hound puppies. It had the ribbon of her bonnet in its mouth and was running towards the fish pond as fast as its small legs could carry it. Mrs. Darcy’s aunt and uncle, who were sitting on a nearby stone bench, were laughing just as heartily.

  “I wonder if my nephew is teaching his hunting dogs to dislike bonnets as much as he does,” Joseph Fitzwilliam declared, winking at his wife.

  “He might do just that,” Olivia Fitzwilliam concurred between great gasps of air, having laughed so hard that she was out of breath.

  At length, their niece overtook the puppy, but not before the bonnet was soaked from being dragged across the pond. As Elizabeth pulled it from the dog’s mouth, she held it up in triumph, flashing one of her crooked grins. Just at that moment, the brim of the hat buckled and a stream of water poured out. This caused the others to laugh even more.

  As she came towards them, Elizabeth quipped, “I hate bonnets almost as much as Will, for I cannot see as I wish because of the brim.”

  “Why do you bother taking a bonnet with you everywhere?” Olivia asked.

  Elizabeth declared cheekily, “Because, should I run into someone of import, I can always put it on.”

  “So, Livy and I are not important enough to warrant seeing you in a bonnet?” her uncle teased.

  “I am afraid not!” Another giggle escaped. “And, Aunt, it could just as well have been your bonnet in the pond.”

  “I loathe for Livy to wear those silly bonnets, for I had rather see her beautiful face,” Joseph punctuated thi
s statement by gently feathering fingers across his wife’s cheek. “If need be, a parasol will do splendidly against the sun. Frankly, I find it ridiculous that society decrees that a proper lady does not appear in public without a bonnet. That is just nonsense.”

  “I agree,” Elizabeth and Olivia happened to say in unison. This set off a new round of laughter.

  At this point, Mrs. Reynolds approached and performed a quick curtsey. “Mrs. Darcy, I am ready to leave now. Rest assured that everything is in order and that I shall return before noon.”

  “There is no need to hurry,” Elizabeth answered. “Enjoy your visit with Mrs. Shelnut. Please tell her that I shall continue to pray for her health to improve. You did prepare another basket of food, did you not?”

  “I did. Last visit, she told me that the food is a real blessing, since she has not been able to cook as much as in the past and that the prayers sustain her.”

  “Ask the vicar to send word as to how she is faring after he calls on her. And, if you think we should send someone to help with the cooking, please let me know.”

  “I will pass your request along to Mr. Moody and evaluate her needs while I am there.”

  “Then we shall see you later today.”

  Just as quickly as she had appeared, the long-time servant disappeared into the house. Elizabeth said sombrely, “I do not know what we would do without Mrs. Reynolds. She is priceless.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Olivia said. “Fitzwilliam has no idea how fortunate he is to have had her all these years.”

  “Very few servants are as devoted,” Joseph echoed thoughtfully.

  Suddenly the sound of the mother hound’s howl caused every eye to glance toward the stables. As the white and rust-coloured dog crossed the paddock, every few steps she would stop and call her missing pup—the one that had stolen Elizabeth’s bonnet. Her other offspring, all seven of them, stayed close by her heels, apparently too afraid to wander off.