by Wynne Mabry
The fact was that his wife had no ability to converse. Perhaps it was the result of having a mother who talked a great deal. One could not really blame Anne, who must have found it impossible to get a word in. She had probably just given up at some point. He told himself that she would improve with some encouragement.
After a dull evening, they went up to bed at an early hour. It was Anne who went first, but the others all followed. Mr. Darcy was almost inclined to go to his library again, but he did have a marital duty to perform. It should not be put off again.
“I shall come to see you shortly,” he said quietly to Anne at the door to her room. The startled look which she gave him was not encouraging. Mr. Darcy wondered if she had much understanding about that aspect of marriage. She had lived a very secluded life. It was possible that this was going to be rather a shock to her.
That concern was added to his own lack of interest in performing the duty ahead of him. After dismissing his valet, he sat in his room without feeling any desire to hurry to his wife. His thoughts again turned to Elizabeth. If only she was the lady in the adjoining room. He would have gone to her with eagerness. There would have been no thoughts of duty, only pleasure and delight.
Eventually he forced himself to get up from his chair and go through the connecting door between their bedchambers. He entered into hers feeling dubious about his ability to fulfill his marital duty with a lady who held no attraction for him at all.
She was already lying in bed, and no candles were burning. The only light came from the one he was carrying, and it was too dim to show Anne’s face properly. One could imagine that it was a different lady in the bed.
“No,” he told himself sharply. It was wrong to have such treacherous thoughts. He must not think of his desire for Elizabeth. Any pretense of that sort was disrespectful to both ladies. He must do this with a full awareness of his wife’s identity and without indulging in lost hopes.
He put his candle down beside the bed and drew back the covers. Anne shivered. Or perhaps she shuddered. The night was not cold. It probably was a shudder, but presumably of fear. Mr. Darcy did not take it as an insult.
“I shall be very gentle,” he promised, sliding carefully into the bed beside her.
As he did, she moved further over. He put a hand on her arm in a gesture of comfort. She flinched, and he quickly pulled the hand away.
“I shall do this as quickly as possible.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but he wanted to offer some sort of comfort. He reached out and gently pulled her shift up a little.
“What are you doing?” she cried in alarm, grabbing the shift and scrambling away from him. “It is not right for you to touch me.”
“It is quite acceptable for your husband to do so. Indeed, that is an essential part of marriage.”
“I do not want any touching in my marriage,” she said. “I do not like it.”
“Have you no idea of the relations between husband and wife? Did your mother not tell you anything of that?”
“She told me that you would manage all our affairs, and I must be a good hostess to your guests.”
He doubted her ability to do even that. “I mean the intimate relations which take place in bed,” he clarified.
“She did say that you would sometimes come to sleep in my bed at night. I understand that is necessary to make a proper marriage.”
“But do you understand that a husband does not just sleep in his wife’s bed? Do you know anything about the act of coupling?”
He was not surprised that she stared at him blankly.
“It is necessary for a couple to be physically joined in order to conceive a child,” he explained.
She still looked puzzled. With a great deal of discomfort, he explained what was necessary.
“How disgusting,” she cried. “It sounds like that thing animals do. I saw a horse do it once, which was dreadfully shocking.”
“It is the same sort of thing,” he admitted.
“But we are civilised beings. It is not for us to behave like animals.”
“It is quite natural for people to do it as well.”
“Natural? The horse was wild and violent.”
“It is not quite the same,” he amended. “You need not fear any violence or wildness. I shall be very gentle, I promise.”
He coaxed her into lying down again, but her body was stiff, and her legs were pressed tightly together. Since he had no wish to force himself upon her, Mr. Darcy asked her to move them apart. Even as she complied, he hated himself for it.
He moved into that space cautiously. Closing his own eyes, he lay over her, making a careful effort to keep his weight from being a burden. Feeling no spark of desire, he was hoping that his body might react sufficiently for him to fulfill his part in this business.
Before he could even attempt anything, she cried out as though in pain.
“Did I hurt you in some way?” he asked, hastily raising himself. “I do not want to hurt you.”
“I do not like this,” she cried. “It is horrible.”
“You must try to stay calm. You will soon become accustomed to it.”
Very carefully, he lowered himself again, but his caution did not help to calm her. Instead she started gasping in fright.
“There is nothing to be frightened of,” he said. “You must relax and try not to worry.”
“But it is terrifying,” she cried. “I cannot bear having you between my legs. I do not want any more of this. Why do you have to do such a nasty thing?” There was panic in her voice.
“I shall stop now,” he said, quickly getting up from the bed. “I think that is enough for tonight.”
He hurried out of the room, knowing that his hasty departure was the only thing which would give her any comfort. There was no comfort for him though. He sat in the dim light feeling guilty for causing his wife distress and ashamed for having thought of Elizabeth.
At breakfast the next morning, Anne looked unwell and nervously picked at her food. Her companion encouraged her to eat, but she took very little. Her gaze was mainly focused upon her plate, but Mr. Darcy saw her look up and glance in his direction once. There was dread in her expression. Since she found him so terrifying, he did his best to make things easier on her by leaving her alone while she attempted to eat.
“I am planning to attend the theatre tonight,” he said after the meal. “Will you join me, Georgiana?”
“Yes, please,” his sister replied with eagerness, as he had expected. She shared his enjoyment of such entertainment.
“And you, Mrs. Annesley?”
“I would be delighted.”
“Would you like to come with us, Anne?” In asking this, he was careful to use a gentle tone.
It was Mrs. Jenkinson who replied, “We shall stay here. Miss de Bourgh does not like the theatre.”
“Then I hope you will have a pleasant evening at home,” he said, not bothering to point out that she should have said Mrs. Darcy.
They were home late and there was no sound from either Anne or her companion, so Mr. Darcy decided against visiting her bedchamber. She still looked at him with fear all through the next day. He considered staying away from her that night, but then he thought that she would only worry more if she remained in fearful anticipation. It was better for her to learn not to fear such a simple act, so he went to her room, although with much hesitation of his own.
Unsurprisingly, he found himself in the same situation. She was again rigid and afraid.
“Try to keep calm,” he advised her. “You will soon see that there is really nothing to fear.”
Although still gentle with her, he moved more quickly this time, thinking that it would be easier for her if there was less anticipation. That strategy did not go well either. Within seconds, she was screaming.
Mr. Darcy moved away instantly, but she continued screaming at a loud pitch. He had never known her to exert herself so much.
“I have stopped,” he said, trying t
o calm her with a kind voice even though he felt annoyed at this excessive reaction. “It is over. There is nothing more to fear.”
But her cries had already awakened others. There were sounds in the hall, and then a knock at the door, followed by Georgiana’s voice asking if something was wrong.
A second later, Mrs. Jenkinson cried out, “What is the trouble, Miss de Bourgh? Should I come to help you?”
Mr. Darcy wanted to scurry back to his room and hide, but he resolutely went to the door and opened it. “I believe Mrs. Darcy has had a bad dream,” he lied. “It is probably the effect of unfamiliar surroundings.”
Mrs. Jenkinson ignored him and went straight to Anne, offering smelling salts and asking if there was anything else which might bring her comfort. Anne threw herself into her companion’s arms and sobbed.
Mr. Darcy stepped into the hall and closed the door. “Mrs. Jenkinson will do the best job of calming her,” he said to Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley.
He doubted that they had believed his lie. Mrs. Annesley politely said that it did take time to get used to a new home, but Georgiana looked at him strangely. Although she could not know precisely what went on in the marriage bed, he guessed that she had some idea of what had just occurred. Only she was probably blaming him.
Wanting her not to think badly of him, he walked her back to her room and said, “I was not unkind to Anne.”
She looked at him with surprise. “I did not think you were. I could never think you capable of unkindness.”
“I am glad to hear it. I thought perhaps you were blaming me for upsetting her. You looked like you were disappointed in me.”
“Oh, no,” she cried. “I was only worrying that Anne had upset you.” She blushed and looked awkward, but then she spoke as openly as she had ever done. “I thought that maybe she did not want you.”
He decided to return the honesty. “She does not. It seems that certain things are excluded from her ideas of marriage. But do not worry. There will be no more screaming. At least not because of me. Anne might find other reasons to scream, but I shall not repulse her in that way again.”
Georgiana looked at him with distress. “Why did you marry her if she dislikes you so much?”
“I had no idea that she would. I thought that it would be a suitable marriage. Not a love match, of course, but a perfectly satisfactory marriage of convenience.” He took her hand. “We must not let this disturb our comfort. Anne is generally very quiet and unobtrusive. I shall take care not to upset her again, and we can carry on doing the things we like. Her presence here need not make a great difference to our lives.”
His sister did not say anything more, but he was afraid that she thought it already had. Indeed, he did not really have much confidence in his own words. With Anne in the house casting a shadow over them, he and Georgiana could never be as comfortable as they had once been.
Mr. Darcy returned to bed deeply regretting how stupidly he had messed everything up. First a rushed decision, and then an inept attempt at having a real marriage. What he actually had was a long-term and rather disagreeable houseguest.
PART TWO
Settling Down
Anne did not put in an appearance at breakfast the next morning, but her companion did, perhaps only for the purpose of displaying her displeasure with Mr. Darcy.
“The poor dear is not feeling very well,” she said, looking daggers at him.
While eating hastily, Mrs. Jenkinson continued to eye him as though he was dangerous, which was rather disconcerting. It took a great effort for him to behave like there was nothing amiss, which he did for his sister’s benefit, even though it was probably a wasted effort with his wife’s companion making her feelings so plain to see.
She hurried away sooner than the others, and when Mr. Darcy went upstairs a little while afterward, he discovered that some of his servants had been put to the task of moving a bed into Anne’s room. Mrs. Jenkinson, who was supervising this operation, looked defiantly at him and said, “So that I can quickly attend to her if she has any more bad dreams.”
Mr. Darcy was not fooled. Obviously, she meant for her presence to be a deterrent to any further marital visits. It did not seem likely that the stupid woman could have ever been married herself. Presumably her title of Mrs. was only a courtesy one since she seemed incapable of comprehending the normality of relations between a husband and wife. If she were possessed of any wisdom, she would have spoken sensibly to Anne, encouraging her not to take such excessive fright.
He did not protest this arrangement though. He wished his wife could trust him enough to accept his word that he would not upset her again, but if she felt safer with a guard, then she might as well have one.
He did not see any more of her for the rest of the day. Neither she nor Mrs. Jenkinson turned up for luncheon or dinner, and he heard afterwards that trays had been taken up to her private sitting room. He had no objection to the practice if that was what she preferred, but he would rather not have her living in seclusion and hiding from him so unnecessarily. Nor could she hide from the visitors who would soon be coming to acquaint themselves with the new Mrs. Darcy.
This had to be dealt with, so after dinner, he knocked at the door to that sanctuary. It was opened slowly, and Mrs. Jenkinson’s eye peered out warily through a narrow gap. “Miss de Bourgh is not well enough for any company,” she protested.
He stuck his foot into that space to keep her from closing the door upon him. “I am sure that Mrs. Darcy can manage to have a few words with her husband,” he said firmly. “In fact, I insist upon it. You will leave us alone for that purpose.”
“If you must talk to her, I shall stay by her side,” Mrs. Jenkinson said. He had never seen the companion so forceful, but protectiveness seemed to have spurred her to some dizzying heights of bravery.
“You will not,” he said emphatically. “As the person who now pays your wages, I expect my instructions to be followed. You will let me into this room at once, and then you will go away until I say you may return.” This imperiousness was not how he had wanted to begin his conversation, but he was determined to speak privately with Anne.
Mrs. Jenkinson glared, but she opened the door, although reluctantly, and inched out of the room. He doubted that she was going very far away, but he was not overly concerned about her listening in. If anything, it might serve to prove that he was not a dangerous creature.
After entering the room, he closed the door and sat down so that his height would not give him a forbidding appearance, but he chose the furthest possible chair from his wife, who was again looking terrified.
“You have nothing to fear,” he said in a gentle tone. “I only want to discuss some things with you. I will not stay long.”
She was still looking at him with dread, but he proceeded calmly.
“First of all, I want to reiterate what I said last night. I shall not come into your room again unless you request my presence. Nor shall I ask you to do anything that you dislike, as long as your social obligations are fulfilled. People will begin to call upon you soon, and I expect you to be in the morning room ready to receive them. You must also return their visits.”
“I will if Mrs. Jenkinson comes with me, but I will not go anywhere with you.”
“That is not possible. I am sorry, but you will sometimes have to go out with me. We must attend some evening engagements together, but she may go with you on all your morning calls.”
“Then I will not go out in the evenings. I do not want to be alone in the carriage with you.”
“You cannot be so rude as to refuse all invitations. Your own mother would tell you that it cannot be done.”
At the mention of her mother, she looked nervous. “Fine,” she said after a moment. “I will go, but you must sit opposite me when we are in the carriage together.”
“I can agree to that. I do not want to cause you any discomfort. Now, as far as meals are concerned, you may have trays in your room if you choose. I will only sa
y that there is no reason to be afraid of sitting at the same table with me. If you wish to take any meals downstairs, you will be made welcome. Personally, I think it more comfortable to dine properly, but I shall leave that up to you. The choice is yours, except for the nights when we have guests. On those occasions, you must take up the duties of hostess, but the rest of the time, you and Mrs. Jenkinson may do as you please, and I will not interfere.”
“I cannot go downstairs if I am ill.”
“When you are ill, then naturally you will not be expected to attend any dinners, but I hope you know better than to fabricate illness as a way of avoiding your duty. As your mother advised you, a wife has her social obligations, but I will ask no more. Beyond those duties, everything else is up to you.”
Again, it seemed that the mention of her mother made her cooperative. “I will do my duty,” she said. “You will really stay out of my bedchamber?”
It occurred to him that most men considered that to also be one of a wife’s duties. He only said, “I promise that I will.”
“Then perhaps sometimes I might go downstairs even when we do not have guests,” she said.
“As you wish,” he replied easily. “I shall leave it entirely up to you. That is all I wanted to discuss, but is there anything which you would like to ask of me?”
“I want a phaeton,” she said straight away. “Mother said that I should leave my phaeton and ponies at Rosings so that I can use them when I am in the country. I want one to drive in the park here as well.”
“I shall see to it directly,” he promised. “Is there anything else?”
“I cannot think of anything at this moment.”
“Well, do not hesitate to let me know if anything else comes to mind. I hope you can now see that there is no need for us to be at odds with each other.”
“I suppose so,” Anne said, with only a little hesitation, which he considered to be a reasonable improvement.