Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge (32 page)

His fiancee had just entered the room and saved Darcy from further embarrassment as she spoke with enthusiasm of the new establishment she, her sister, mother, and aunt had discovered. The combination draper and bookshop had provided hours of material enjoyment as the ladies browsed amongst the text-aisles. Many volumes of ware to wear and read had been ordered.

Red-faced Fitzwilliam Darcy was thankful for the diversion, and he desperately hoped the other gentleman would believe the entire Hanson Barberin story was fiction. Non-friction between Lizzy's father and himself was vitally important. Of course, the notion of him being a scissor-wielding barber was shear nonsense; nevertheless, the truth was he
had
gotten all gooshy and kissed Elizabeth in a very private place, indeed ... behind the bookshelves. Drawing on his masterly command of the English language, Darcy said nothing.

T
he Darcy and Fitzwilliam families were the first arrivals at Pemberley, with the two de Bourgh ladies and Ellis Fleming close on their heels. Bingley showed up early the next day from neighbouring Staffordshire, and the three carriages conveying the Bennets and Gardiners were expected to roll in late that afternoon. The Anglican clergyman, Reverend Mr. Godfrey, was not expected to present himself until the eve of the wedding; and all the guests would arrive following the early-afternoon marriage ceremony. Because the three fiances had each procured special licenses, their solemnization of matrimony rites did not have to take place in the morning or, in fact, even in the parish church.

The grand estate was in a state of organized chaos. Gardeners, huntsmen, labourers, cooks, maids, footmen, valets, coachmen, and the gamekeeper all had a hand in the preparations. Weeks previously, a steady stream of delivery carts had begun traveling the road to Pemberley from Lambton and London. Although Ellis Fleming and the Bennets were fairly flush in the pockets, it was not every day three members of two illustrious families such as the Darcys and Fitzwilliams were wed in the same ceremony; so no expense was being spared for the special event. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds directed the flow of traffic as provisions flowed in for the nuptials and a lavish celebration to follow.

Heavy crates of fine wine, spirits, and champagne, courtesy of Mr. Gardiner, were carried to the cellar under the direction and watchful eye of Owen Reynolds. When told where to store the white wine, one footman gave the butler a blanc stare while another servant was ordered to lock up the vintage red wine in a cabernet. Unfortunately, the latter fellow accidentally broke a bottle, and the ruby-coloured liquid ended up on his livery, which earned the young man a scathing look of dis-stain from Mr. Reynolds. The clumsy servant winked at the other footman and said, "This drink is on me."

During the days, hours, and minutes leading up to the wedding, Pemberley's massive kitchen was a very heated place. Tempers sizzled, workers were steamed, and the new chef, Mr. Eggleston, lambasted his cooks. Despite being a cantankerous supervisor who often beat eggs and whipped cream, Mr. Eggleston was undeniably a very gouda chef who created grate delicacies from Cheddar, Cheshire, as well as Wensleydale. Nevertheless, the kitchen workers often referred to 'Eggy' as a munster or some other equally cheesy name. One emotional onion-mincing minion, Mrs. Culpepper, was particularly astir and mixed up; yet she took it with a grain of salt when Eggleston had a beef with her lumpy gravy. He grilled and roasted the poor woman and called her ham-fisted. While Mrs. Culpepper inwardly simmered and stewed, she was inspired to calmly ask what the chef thought about serving honeymoon salad.

Tetchy Eggleston haughtily inquired, "And just what, pray tell, is honeymoon salad, Culpepper?"

"Lettuce alone, sir!"

Eggleston sniffed, lifted his chin, and looked down his nose at the baker, "You need to knead the dough faster, Mrs. Butterfield. It is the yeast you can do, and you should know batter by now."

The baker may have been a gluten for punishment; all the same, when her shift in the kitchen ended, she left with a loathe of bread. The next morning when she started work again, Mrs. Butterfield noticed one of the large fruitcakes she had made days previously had been cut. She was not, however, the only woman one slice short of a loaf. The half-baked guilty party, in her toasty guest bedchamber, chastised her seasoned maid for not having pinched, poached, or purloined another crumby slice; and the harridan's leavened, unsavoury language was most distasteful until the Lady's daughter, Anne de Bourgh, arrived with a glass of laudanum-infused sherry.

It might be supposed he would have been of a disposition in which happiness overflowed in mirth the days before being united in wedlock with Elizabeth Bennet. However, his family, relatives, friends, and servants hardly knew a more awful object than perfectionist Fitzwilliam Darcy on that particular occasion, at his ancestral home with nothing to do but fret. He drove Mrs. Reynolds to distraction with his concern for Elizabeth's comfort while under Pemberley's roof, and he interfered in every minuscule detail of the preparations for the celebration. Darcy vexed Crispin Knott, his elderly valet, when he changed attire no less than four times before finally being satisfied with his appearance the day of her arrival; and he worried and paced because the Bennet carriage had not arrived precisely at the expected hour.

"Fitzwilliam George Darcy!" admonished his mother. "Do cease being such a niggling, nagging, nettling nuisance and simply allow the servants to do their duties without making each and every little triviality into a monumental issue. They are beginning to wonder if royalty is actually expected, and I imagine Elizabeth would be horrified if she knew how you have been absolutely agonizing over her arrival."

Georgiana agreed with her mother. "Really, brother, Elizabeth is quite easily pleased, does not have unreasonably high expectations, and cannot possibly be so very fussy. After all, she
has
agreed to marry
you
."

"My, my, you are rather whimsical in your civility today, Georgie; and my pitiable friend, Fleming, obviously has
extremely
low standards to be willing to wed such a termagant."

"Children, behave! Fitzwilliam, why do you not go for an invigorating walk or a ride to expend some of your jitters? Take Romulus and Remus with you. Your foxhounds have been underfoot almost as much as you and would surely benefit from the exercise. I believe Mr. Bingley, Ellis, James, and Richard are playing cricket on the back lawn. Please join your friends and cousins. Please."

"But what if the Bennets should arrive while I am not here?"

Georgiana was more than happy to provide the answer. "Elizabeth would certainly never forgive such a blatant transgression. You would subsequently be forsaken by her, left at the altar, ridiculed by society, and forced to live out the rest of your miserable existence as a lonely recluse."

"Leave your poor brother alone, Georgiana. He is beside himself. My dear son, you shall not be jilted; and I do believe your father, your youngest sister, this dear, sweet, sarcastic young lady here, and I can all manage the Herculean task of welcoming the royal family to Pemberley without your invaluable assistance. Go. Physical activity will provide a respite from nervous tension."

Darcy obediently called for his hounds and made his way outside but not before he heard Lady Anne mutter, "Your being outdoors will provide a much needed respite for the rest of us, and we shall endeavour to somehow muddle through without your precious guidance."

"I heard that, Mother!"

Darcy and his canine companions took a stroll along the meandering stream, but the young man remained attuned for the sound of carriage wheels descending the hill or sight of the Bennet equipage crossing the bridge. With no sign of Elizabeth's imminent arrival, he decided to spare a few minutes to check on the backyard cricket players. Regrettably, Darcy and his dogs were about as welcome at the game as they had been inside the house, for Romulus took great delight in fetching the leather-seamed ball, thus ending the closely scored match.

When his beloved bride-to-be finally appeared through Pemberley's front door, roughly forty-seven and a half minutes late, Fitzwilliam Darcy became overwhelmed by her very presence at his ancestral home; and he then drove himself to distraction with unbridled thoughts of connubial bliss. Unhappily for him, Elizabeth was almost instantly whisked away from his side; and he began to wonder why he had not considered whisking her away to Gretna Green.

Our journey to Northumberland would have been much shorter from Scotland than from Derbyshire, and I would have been spared hearing any further descriptions of lace and finery from all the females gathered above stairs.

Darcy was subsequently besieged by rampant visions of Elizabeth in satin and lace and deluged with pleasurable fantasies of further wedding-night conjugal delight.

Upon arrival, Elizabeth had been immediately caught up in a whirlwind of welcome, introduction to servants, and an inordinate amount of fussing from Georgiana, Anna, Lady Anne, and Anne de Bourgh. She was swept away to her sumptuous chambers and presented with her newly appointed abigail, Ann Cillary.

Yet another Anne? Surely the number of Annes associated with Fitzwilliam's family is an ann-omaly.

Although her opulent rooms were spacious, the bedchamber, sitting room, and dressing areas were inundated with a flurry of activity as her trunks were unpacked and refreshments served. Mrs. Reynolds and a bevy of maids saw to her every comfort; and Lizzy suspected her perfectionist fiance was behind all the fluster, fuss, and foofaraw.

The Bennet children thought Pemberley was almost as fine a place as Longbourn, and Lydia and Robert enthusiastically met the numerous Darcy pets with squeals of glee that sent the poor creatures running for cover. When he was denied access to his fiancee, Fitzwilliam Darcy invited the two youngest Bennets to the barn to show them the tabby kittens that had been born in the summer, several weeks before their sisters' first fateful visit to the estate. Darcy cherished time spent with the siblings of his beloved Elizabeth especially Robert, who was adorable, and Lydia, who was a younger version of Lizzy.