Truth about Mr. Darcy (35 page)

After three full days of traveling, they arrived at Pemberley. Darcy instructed the driver to stop the coach at a certain spot where the house could be viewed to particular advantage by all within, and Elizabeth’s head reeled as she beheld the splendor of Pemberley House for the first time. Never before had she seen a house more happily situated or for which nature had done more.

“Lord, Lizzy!” Lydia laughed. “To think you are now mistress of all this!”

Elizabeth smiled at Darcy, who had been observing her reaction to her new home. He leaned forward to grasp her hand and asked, “Do you approve, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth gave a soft, delighted laugh and said, “Oh, yes. Very much. I believe there are very few who would not approve.”

“Perhaps,” he said as his gaze caressed her with a look of love and just a hint of mischief, “but your good opinion is so rarely bestowed and, therefore, more worth the earning.”

She laughed aloud and swatted his arm. “You are incorrigible,” she chided.

Lydia and Georgiana smiled, and Darcy laughed. “Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy,” he said. In the next instant, he rapped upon the roof of the carriage, and the driver urged the horses forward once again. They were soon well on their way to the house, where Elizabeth would now pass the rest of her days, most agreeably, she suspected, as mistress of a very grand estate.

To Elizabeth, and no doubt to those before her who had received the pleasure of setting foot in Pemberley House, the building’s interior did not disappoint. Very much like their beautiful home in Grosvenor Square, the house—even with its imposing scale and obvious grandeur—reflected the refined elegance and partiality for comfort she had come to expect from her husband.

The main foyer, which held an outrageous number of servants assembled to welcome their master and new mistress home, was massive. It took Elizabeth several moments to overcome her awe and collect herself so she could properly address everyone before her. It was not difficult to see that they had been waiting eagerly—and with more than a little trepidation—to finally glimpse the lady who, it was rumored, had captured their master’s heart. Elizabeth greeted them warmly, and her easy manners earned genuine smiles from many.

Amongst them was a kind-looking elderly lady whom Darcy introduced to Elizabeth as Pemberley’s long-time housekeeper. Though not at all similar in appearance to the plump Mrs. Hildebrandt, Mrs. Reynolds had a motherly look about her all the same. It was apparent to the new Mrs. Darcy, who had observed the warm manner with which they had greeted each other, there existed a great fondness between the slender lady and Pemberley’s master that transcended the bounds of the traditional roles of master and servant.

After making the necessary introductions, Darcy—with a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth—escorted his wife to their private apartments. As they walked arm in arm through Pemberley’s splendid halls, visions of Elizabeth as she reclined upon the enormous bed in the master’s chambers pervaded his thoughts. It took some effort on Darcy’s part to keep his eagerness in check and, thus, his dignity intact before the servants. So overjoyed was he to finally have Elizabeth with him at Pemberley, where he had long pictured her at his side, even before he had declared himself to her, that Darcy found it nearly impossible to restrain himself from sweeping her up in his arms and taking the stairs two at a time. Instead, he contented himself with bestowing several passionate and private looks upon his wife, which communicated to her his mood on the occasion.

They reached the mistress’s chamber first, and as Elizabeth moved about the elegant apartment, Darcy’s heart overflowed with happiness. He studied her with great satisfaction and pleasure as her eyes took in all that was now hers. It was by no small feat he had managed to force himself to remain in one spot rather than following her throughout the rooms like a calf-eyed young pup. The awed expression upon his wife’s face, in Darcy’s opinion, rendered her utterly enchanting. When Elizabeth finally turned to give him a breathtaking smile, he stepped forward to place his hand upon the small of her back as he offered comments on certain objects and furnishings, and encouraged her to make any changes she might wish. After restraining himself for a full five minutes, Darcy finally gave in to the impulse to gather Elizabeth in his arms and kiss her. What began as an innocent embrace soon flared into an expressive display of passion as Darcy’s hands began to roam over his wife’s body.

Far too soon—and much to his irritation—there came a knock upon the sitting room door, and Darcy tore his lips from those of his wife with a sound of frustration. He rested his forehead against hers and attempted to subdue his desire. After a few moments, he kissed her once more before stepping away. “Enter.”

Blushing, Georgiana appeared from behind the closed door, cleared her throat, and said, “Forgive my intrusion, Fitzwilliam, but I thought you and Elizabeth would like to know that supper will be served in an hour.”

“Thank you, Georgiana. Will you and Lydia not rest yourselves until then in your rooms? Our journey today was rather taxing. I would not wish for either of you to tire yourselves unduly.”

Georgiana giggled. “I believe we shall both rest quietly until we must go down to dinner. You need not concern yourself with entertaining us, Brother. We have become quite capable of amusing ourselves in your absence.”

Darcy gave her a stern look and she left quickly, her mirth barely in check. Scowling, Darcy took Elizabeth in his arms and said, “I do believe my sister has been just as much influenced by Lydia as Lydia has been by her these past months. I am yet uncertain whether I approve of her newfound impertinence.”

A smile graced Elizabeth’s lips as she slid her hands to his shoulders and beyond to bury her fingers within his thick curls. “I am very surprised to hear
that
, for I have long been under the impression that you approve of impertinent young women and hold them in nothing but the highest esteem. I believe I have even heard you, on occasion, pronounce one such lady to be uniformly charming.”

“You, my dearest, are the only woman whose impertinence and teasing I have ever found charming,” he growled as he captured her lips with his. “I cannot but approve of the way you tease me, for if you did not, I fear I would be far too serious and ill-humored far too much of the time.”

She returned his kiss with some feeling. “Mmm… I cannot argue with that. I can recall just such a time, though not with as much clarity as I once might have, and although I found you equally as handsome then as I do now, I would not wish to have you so serious and grave again. You see, sir, you are utterly irresistible when you smile.”

Darcy did smile then, and tugged Elizabeth toward the door that led from her rooms to the master’s chambers. “Then I would have it no other way. Come, Elizabeth. You must be terribly tired after your journey. Perhaps you should rest yourself.” His tone was teasing.

Elizabeth laughed at his blatant attempt to seduce her so soon after their arrival, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I assure you, Fitzwilliam, I am not the least bit tired; however, I might be persuaded to partake of some
exercise
if you would consent to join me.”

A wide smile overspread Darcy’s features as he led her into his apartment and kicked the door closed with his foot.

***

Elizabeth’s first week at Pemberley, while enjoyable, passed far too quickly for her liking. After the rigors of traveling for so many days—which included all the amenities being confined to what coaches and country inns could possibly afford—she rejoiced at being able to retire each night to the comfort of her own bed, or rather, the incomparable luxury of her husband’s. Her sleep being sound, Elizabeth rose early each morning to partake of a quick breakfast before she would steal away from the house with Darcy. As Derbyshire was so far north, its inhabitants were still experiencing the chill of winter, but the two lovers cared not. They wandered the grounds for hours, oftentimes losing themselves in the pleasure being at Pemberley afforded them. Elizabeth was so happy to be out-of-doors with just Darcy to accompany her.

Darcy was elated to finally have Elizabeth with him at his ancestral home, which meant almost as much to him as the woman he loved. Not even a blizzard, he suspected, could deter him from showing his wife as much of the grounds and surrounding woods as could be seen on foot without her becoming unduly fatigued.

The following week demanded that Darcy return to his duties as Pemberley’s master, which entailed lengthy talks with his steward, daily rides to survey the estate, and meeting with tenants to resolve any concerns or disputes. Added to this list were many frequent and detailed exchanges with his solicitors, both in London and abroad. Elizabeth filled the hours of her husband’s absence by familiarizing herself with the layout of the house, learning the names of the staff, and acquainting herself with the inner workings of the household. She soon found she had much to learn, and just as the running of Longbourn could hardly approach the complexity of Darcy House in London, so Darcy House and its operation paled in comparison to that of Pemberley.

Mrs. Reynolds had been in service with the family since Darcy had been a lad of four years, and while Elizabeth could easily tell that the elderly woman was a very warm, amiable lady, Pemberley’s mistress soon found herself adding patience to the housekeeper’s endless list of attributes, as well. Mrs. Reynolds was of great assistance to Elizabeth as she applied herself to her new responsibilities. Indeed, the kindly housekeeper spent a great deal of time assisting her in any way she could and, at Elizabeth’s prodding, even went so far as to regale her new mistress with boyhood tales of Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. As a result, Elizabeth took great delight in teasing her husband over his youthful antics. This form of torment always led a petulant Darcy to grumble about having a few choice words of chastisement for the elderly woman.

***

The months passed, and soon spring turned to summer. With the warmer season came the added responsibility of overseeing the fields after the spring planting, which would take up much of Darcy’s time. It was not uncommon for the master of Pemberley to depart shortly after breakfast, not to return until an hour or so before supper was served. Though Elizabeth would have preferred to spend her days in the company of her husband, it was not within her power to do so. As difficult as this adjustment was for Pemberley’s new mistress, she soon found much contentment and satisfaction in the society of her two younger sisters who, under her steady guidance and womanly assurance, were fast becoming promising young ladies. Pemberley’s master could not be more pleased.

Though Darcy had initially experienced some trepidation when he had first learned of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, it had quickly given way to delight at the prospect of becoming a father. As Elizabeth’s slender body slowly increased, Darcy’s joy became such that he did not feel the least bit inclined to dwell upon the moment when his wife would have to give birth. By the time August arrived, however, Elizabeth’s size had increased to substantial proportions, forcing Darcy to finally give thought to the niggling fears he had, until that time, successfully managed to push to the back of his mind. With each passing day, he began to experience more concern for his wife, especially as he could not help noticing how she now found certain tasks, such as walking out for any distance or ascending the stairs to her room, to be more of a challenge. Darcy became on edge for Elizabeth’s safety and, as a result, took great pains to ensure someone was there to watch over her on those occasions when he was unable to accompany her. Though this precaution did go a long way in appeasing Darcy’s worry over her immediate safety and comfort, it did very little to free his mind from dwelling on the dangers Elizabeth would very soon face with the birth of their child.

He remembered all too well his mother’s ordeal when she had been expecting Georgiana and, even more vividly, the long, arduous birth and heart-wrenching sorrow that had followed. Though Elizabeth was not experiencing any difficulties other than those that all healthy young women who are fast approaching their confinement have in common, Darcy’s anxiety for her multiplied. For Elizabeth’s sake, he attempted to conceal his unease as best he could, but it did not take long for his astute wife to notice her husband’s agitation.

Elizabeth sensed Darcy’s anxiety growing daily and, knowing him so well, had her suspicions regarding the cause. She became especially concerned when she noticed his distraction was such that he had resumed his old practice of staring at her from across the room, much as he had done in Hertfordshire, to the exclusion of anyone else who might also be in their company at the time. Elizabeth had asked him, on several occasions, to confide in her, to share the source of his disquiet, but Darcy simply looked at her, shook his head, and kissed her as he assured her all was well and that he was tired or distracted. Elizabeth did not believe him for a moment, and one night, as she sat at the pianoforte and played a particularly moving love song, she happened to glance up to find his gaze fixed upon her with such a look of anguish it caused her fingers to fumble upon the keys. Their eyes locked, and then Darcy quickly turned aside his head and swallowed thickly. Elizabeth turned her attention back to her music with a frown.

At the end of her song, Darcy rose and strode from the room without so much as a word or even a look to her. Elizabeth followed him to his study. Without knocking, she entered to find him standing before a large window as he looked out into the darkness. His forearm rested against one of the window’s panes, his other hand on his hip.

“Was my performance so lacking you felt the need to flee without so much as a word to me?” she asked.

Her words were teasing, but there was a seriousness to her tone that caused him to shift uncomfortably. “Nothing is wrong with your performance, I assure you,” he said in a low, almost painfully quiet voice. “I am only distracted tonight, that is all.”

She crossed the room to stand beside him and placed her hand upon his arm. “Allow me to say, Fitzwilliam, that your assurances in this quarter have come to mean very little. Will you not finally speak to me of this thing that has been weighing upon you so heavily that you would persist in concealing it from me rather than confess?”

Darcy shook his head. “In this instance, I am afraid there is nothing that can be gained from my speaking of it. Indeed, I cannot.”

Elizabeth stroked her hand over his arm and asked, “You cannot, or you will not?”

He swallowed hard then. “Elizabeth, do not ask this of me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It is not my wish to cause you distress.”

She stared at him, her exasperation and concern at his stubbornness evident. “Fitzwilliam, you cannot possibly cause me more distress by speaking with me than you already have by your refusing to do so. By your failing to confide in me, my agitation shall only continue to increase. Can you not see this?”

She squeezed his arm gently, and Darcy ran one hand over his tired eyes. A full minute passed before he inquired, “Are you certain you truly wish to know?”

“I do,” she said, her voice earnest. “Please, speak to me.”

He sighed and, after a few moments, began to speak in a pained voice, his gaze fixed upon some imaginary point as he continued to stare out into the darkness. “Whenever I close my eyes each night, whenever I think of you during the day—which, as you must know has always been constantly—I cannot help but be reminded of the very great danger I know you shall soon have to face. In vain I have struggled to think of happier thoughts, but I cannot seem to stop myself from dwelling upon the worst. I fear for you, Elizabeth, I fear for our unborn child, and, selfish as it is, I fear for myself. There is no possible way I can continue to exist if you do not. I cannot put it any plainer than that.”