Chapter 31 Guests At Pemberley #2
“Their home lies but five miles north of my father’s estate. It is about fifteen miles south. Lewis and I grew up together. His sister Isabella is five and twenty now, strong in mind and body, much like you, ma’am.”
Elizabeth looked surprised. “Five and twenty, and still unmarried?”
Richard’s face darkened. “When she was eighteen, and I was freshly out of university, she asked me to wait for her. Her father forbade an attachment between us. Later, she refused a wealthy baronet twice her age, and, enraged, her father sent her away to live with her aunt. By the time she returned, I had gone to war. We have continuously missed one another ever since.”
Elizabeth asked softly, “Why does her brother object to you?”
“Pride and arrogance,” Richard said simply. “He wants a titled match for her. He and Darcy can hardly abide one another. But do not worry, they are both too old now for quarrels.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly, though uneasily. “I hope so, for they will meet soon enough.”
They reached the dripping well. The clear spring flowed from a stone cliff overgrown with vines, the water spilling gently into the pool below.
“It is beautiful,” Elizabeth said. “It looks as if a gardener tends it daily.”
“It is untouched,” Richard replied. “Uncle George forbade anyone from altering its natural beauty. Darcy holds to that rule still.”
Elizabeth felt her heart swell with quiet affection for her husband.
“Colonel,” she said softly, “I believe you love this Miss Lewis. I hope her love for you has endured through all the ensuing years and the delays and obstacles.”
They had just stepped from under the shadow of the rock wall when Darcy appeared, striding toward them, his face troubled.
“Sir, what is it?” Elizabeth asked at once. “Is Mrs. Hurst unwell?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, she is well. But I have received disturbing news.” He looked from one to the other. “Caroline Bingley has left her husband and his family and has thrown herself into the power of a footman. She may be on her way here.”
Elizabeth gasped. “To Pemberley? But why?”
Darcy’s face hardened. “She must be mad. They believe she is coming here to me.”
All three were struck silent. At last, Elizabeth found her voice. “Fitzwilliam, she cannot remain here with us. She hates me.”
Darcy crossed the space between them and gathered her into his arms. “It is well, Elizabeth. She cannot harm you here.”
She pressed against him. “She has made my name a byword in Hertfordshire, exposed me to censure and derision, and now she travels to Pemberley to do the same among my servants and neighbors, in a place where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit.”
“No,” he said firmly. “No indeed. She will not spend even one night here. If she dares to come to Pemberley, I shall send her away at once, in my own carriage if need be, with the Miller brothers to escort her to the Royal Crown in Lambton. She may lodge there for the night, and then she shall return to Selby, to the uncle who failed to manage her.”
“But she will not be removed before she has presented herself at our very door, before our guests, and created a scene. No, Fitzwilliam, I cannot bear the suspense of wondering if she will come, or when she will appear. Will it be at luncheon, while we are all seated at table, or in the evening, when Georgiana is performing, and our guests are gathered together, giving her the perfect audience for her theatrics?”
He ran his hand gently down her back and drew her closer. “No, my darling, do not think it. She may not be coming to Pemberley at all; it is only her uncle’s conjecture for now.”
Elizabeth said nothing. Her silence unsettled him. Darcy exchanged a concerned glance with Richard, then looked down at her.
“Elizabeth? Are you unwell?”
She released him and tried to stand straight, but he saw her sway. He caught her by the waist. “Are you faint?”
She nodded. “Yes… I am suffering such flutterings and beatings of my heart, and I feel sick to my stomach.”
“Sit here,” Richard said quickly.
Darcy guided her to a nearby rock. “Rest, my love. The stone is dry.”
Elizabeth sat for several minutes, her color gradually returning. “I was feeling tense and nervous, but I think it has passed,” she said. “I feel better now.”
Darcy helped her rise, and together they began the slow walk back toward the house.
Richard asked, “Who sent the express?”
“Her uncle Ambrose,” Darcy replied.
“Did she flee before or after the marriage?”
Darcy said, “After. Bingley has received an executed copy of the marriage certificate.”
Richard gave a low whistle. “Well, at least there’s that. Poor Charles. His sister will be the ruin of him yet.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I pity my poor Jane. She had hoped all obstacles to her happiness were past.”
Darcy took her hand. “For your sister’s sake, I will help Charles in any way I can. He is good-hearted but indecisive. We must guide him through this.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I will comfort her with that.”
Richard said nothing, but his thoughts were somber. For the first time, he felt a pang of pity for Caroline Bingley and wondered what terror had driven her from her husband’s side.
Darcy escorted Elizabeth upstairs and left her in Ellis’s care. The maid began to undress her mistress so she might rest a couple of hours before dinner.
Downstairs, Darcy found Richard in his study. He paused by the window, staring out across the park.
“Elizabeth fears an unexpected visit from Caroline,” Darcy said at last. “All travelers to Pemberley must pass through Lambton, which lies five miles from here, and then through the gatehouse, which is three miles away. There is no reason we should be taken unawares. I could station a footman at the Red Lion in Lambton; there’s a fine view of the road from the tavern, and another at the gatehouse. ”
Richard looked grim. “A sound idea. Bingley brought several of his servants with him, and they all know Caroline. It is only fair that he offer two of his men to stand watch with yours. If they spot her carriage in Lambton, they can stop her at the gatehouse and send word to you for help. Or, between the four of them, they can turn her carriage about and see her safely back to the Great North Road, and all the way to Yorkshire, if need be.”
Darcy nodded, satisfied. He rang for a servant and sent for Bingley. The three men soon settled the details of the plan, and when all was arranged, Darcy excused himself and went upstairs.
He knocked softly at his wife’s door. There was no answer.
Assuming Ellis was out and Elizabeth asleep, he let himself in.
She lay nestled beneath the coverlet, fast asleep.
He took his accustomed chair by her bedside, the one he used each night for their readings, and sat quietly watching her.
Her beauty struck him anew: the delicate complexion, the long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, the wild tumble of curls strewn across the pillow.
Her lips were parted slightly, soft and pink.
The sight stirred him, and he closed his eyes, willing his thoughts elsewhere.
He reached for the book of poetry they had been reading, and he perused it until she stirred half an hour later.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, rubbing her eyes, “is everything well? Why are you here?”
He rose and sat at the edge of her bed. “Elizabeth, Richard, Charles, and I have devised a plan, one that I hope will ease your fears. There is no reason to wait for Caroline to present herself at our door. We will post two men at the Red Lion and two more at the gatehouse. If she is seen, they will not allow her carriage onto the drive. It is three miles long, my dear; she will be quite unseen from the house. Once stopped, the men will escort her carriage back to the Great North Road, and all the way to Yorkshire, should it prove necessary.”
Elizabeth listened, relief dawning across her face. “What think you, Elizabeth? Does that make you feel more at ease?”
“It does, Fitzwilliam,” she said, “but will the people of Lambton not talk? Will it not seem odd to have two of Pemberley’s footmen whiling away their hours at the tavern?”
He laughed. “Perhaps. I had not thought that far ahead. We must invent a reason for their presence.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, thinking. “Do your footmen read and write?”
“They do,” he replied, curious.
“Then perhaps it could be made known that they are available during the day to read or write letters for those who cannot. It would appear charitable and useful, and no one would question their presence.”
Darcy laughed again. “That is a worthy plan, Elizabeth. I shall ask the rector to make the announcement at church tomorrow.”
Elizabeth threw back the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed, smiling as she rose.
Her gown had slipped up to her knees, revealing her shapely legs.
Darcy turned away, granting her privacy, though his heart quickened at the sight.
She seemed entirely unconscious of her state, too pleased with their success to notice.
He was not prepared for her embrace, yet he welcomed it.
Rising on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his chest.
“Thank you for doing this for me,” she murmured. “I did not know how I would go on, with guests in the house and wondering when that sour-faced harpy would present herself.”
She released him as suddenly as she had embraced him. When she stepped away, he moved to the door. “Shall I ring for Ellis?”
“Yes, please. And thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
He inclined his head. “I will be in my study if you need anything.”
Closing the door quietly behind him, Darcy lingered a moment in the corridor, gratified.
His wife was growing easier in his presence, her rigid walls of propriety softening, little by little.
He wished the embrace had been intended as a gesture of love rather than gratitude.
He imagined that in her mind the gesture to him was similar to what she would have bestowed on her father, but he would not complain.
She was finding it easier to touch him, and he hoped that soon she would touch him with intention.