Chapter 62
Elizabeth sat opposite him in the tearoom, the spout of the pot on the table steaming, and the several plates holding many different types of cakes and pastries.
Her breathing had slowed back after her exertions and she knew that a few tendrils of hair were probably escaping a pin or two.
But she was in dire need of a cup of tea.
“I hope you do not mind if I take the first cup of tea before refreshing my appearance, Mr Darcy,” she teased, finding his broad smile rather unsettling.
“Not at all, Elizabeth. You look as if you have settled a few scores within and reached some level of … quietude … I suppose is the word I am thinking of.”
She tipped her head on one side and looked at him. “You have surprised me, sir. I think that is exactly the word to describe it.” She shook her head slightly. “Although what it is, I am not certain.”
“Then do not worry about it, for the moment. But I do think that your family’s discussion about your future unsettled you, rather, and may have been too soon.”
She contemplated him thoughtfully. “I suppose … I suppose it was. But it might have been the right time, in that I ought not to become settled in Gracechurch Street out of mere habit, and a disinclination for another move.”
He arched an eyebrow, with a strange familiarity to Papa. “And a brisk walk here has reminded you of the countryside?”
“Yes.” Absently, she stirred a spoon of sugar into her cup.
“Elizabeth.”
She was startled. “Yes?”
“You do not normally take sugar. Is something concerning you?”
“Oh.” Elizabeth looked at the spoon in her hand. “I was not thinking. Never mind. I have learned to drink tea in any way it is served.”
She looked up as his hand settled over hers, preventing her from picking up her cup. “No longer, Elizabeth. You have the right and the freedom to choose how you like your tea. No longer do you have to dance to the whims of others.” He leaned back and signalled to the proprietor.
“A fresh cup and saucer, please. And another pot of tea.”
Elizabeth looked at him. “My, we are being gentlemanly.” But she smiled, just in case her words stung.
He glanced away, presumably checking there was no one nearby, and that the staff would not return just yet.
“And, on that subject, I have made a few notes — in the nature of a promise, really — on what the situation would be like if you resolved on the dower house. Then you might be in full possession of the facts when you do decide to make a choice.” His hand strayed towards his breast pocket, the one where he kept her letter.
He had said it was to remind him of his shame and determination to do better by her.
But he brought out a freshly folded sheet, although he hesitated before handing it to her. She glanced thoughtfully at him before she opened it.
Most of the choices her family had offered her were not really choices at all. She could not return to Hertfordshire while her whole self rose up in revulsion at the thought. She would never return to Lincolnshire, either. And she could hardly remain at her aunt and uncle’s home in the longer term.
And while Mr Darcy had said she had funds and security enough to make her own home and household wherever she wished, that would be a very difficult choice.
What he had said about the dower house made it sound a possibility, but it would still be on his estate, with his staff around her.
Not that she did not like and respect Mrs Kerr and Mr Reed.
But they knew — they must know — of her flight.
They might think badly of her now. She could hardly go back.
But he had taken the time to make notes before she made any decision. She would not refuse to consider them.
Elizabeth unfolded the sheet of paper.
Elizabeth,
I am not writing this in any sense to put pressure on you as to where you might decide to reside in the future. I do feel you need to be in full possession of the fact before you choose to accept or decline the dower house at Pemberley. That choice remains entirely yours.
He had said that so many times. Elizabeth suppressed a smile. Even down to ensuring she chose how she took her tea. He must mean it. Would that promise last?
Please know that the dower house is fully refurbished and maintained. It is yours indefinitely to occupy or leave vacant as you wish. It can be staffed with those you know, or you may appoint new staff yourself.
You may live there unfettered. I will never impose myself upon you unless you permit me to call.
You may receive any visitors you choose.
You may travel as you wish.
Your correspondence will be unrestricted. All post that arrives for you will be delivered directly to the dower house, not to me first.
You have, regardless of where you live, full access to your settlement funds and pin money.
You have, of course, full access to Pemberley House when you wish it, to access the library, the music room, or any other part of it. I will vacate that house on any of those occasions if you wish it.
I will never ask you to resume or commence any of your marital duties except at your instigation. You know of my love for you; but know that you must always make the first move if you wish. Or not, if that is your choice.
I make these promises to you, Elizabeth, my wife, and will keep them until my dying day.
Yours, always
Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Elizabeth remained with her head lowered to the sheet as she heard the bustle of staff replenishing the trays. Not for anything would she allow them to see the tears in her eyes. When she thought they were alone again, she glanced up and around. They were.
“This,” she waved the sheet of paper. “This is … rather overwhelming.”
“Have I forgotten anything?” he asked hesitantly.
She hesitated. She did not wish to hurt him, but she had to ask. “If I move to the dower house, and once I am on the estate … what if I later wish to leave?”
Mr Darcy kept his face expressionless. He was good at that, but he could not control his sudden pallor. He reached for the paper, and waved again at the proprietor.
“You are right. Let me call for ink and I will add that promise to these.”
And he had done so. No hesitation, no reluctance, no expression of hope that she would eventually move back to Pemberley House. He had just written it at the bottom, and waited until the ink was dry before handing it back to her.
I promise, that, if at any time you choose to move on and live elsewhere, you may do so, at no loss or cost to you.
She knew, at last, that he was the best of men. The man she had married had been a damaged man, a man wounded and in pain, and that man was no more.
They made their way back to the coach more slowly than they had walked at first. Elizabeth had no need to walk faster, and she thought back to the view she’d had from her chamber window at Pemberley.
She had immediately loved the wild peaks and steep slopes, the wooded hills and the rolling lawns and the lake of the Pemberley grounds.
She could see them again. She could walk those paths again. She would still be free. However, did she dare? Dare she put all her trust in this man yet?
She had the sheet of his promises folded in her reticule. She would read them again tonight.
“Mr Darcy?”
He smiled down at her, but she could sense the tension in his posture, in his arm where her hand rested. “Yes, Elizabeth?”
“I … thank you. For taking the time to write those assurances. I very much appreciate them.” She bit her lip; she could tell him she would move there, could she not? It would relieve his tension and she did not wish to hurt him any more than her dreadful letter had.
But he shook his head. “No, Elizabeth. You need to say no more. Deciding your future is a big decision. With your permission, I will call tomorrow, and continue to visit unless you tell me not to.”
“I believe you know me better than I do myself, sir.” Elizabeth pretended to pout and began to walk a little faster. He kept stride with her.
“What I do know is of your wish to always help, always looking out to assist someone. And in the same way I have seen that you do not like to see another’s pain, and I do not want you to make the wrong choice merely because you do not wish to hurt me or your relations.”
His arm tightened on her hand. “Discover all you need to know, and make your choice when you are alone and under no need to search another’s face for whether you are hurting them or not. Only then might you know what you truly want.”
She nodded, feeling all the weight of the various obligations upon her. He was right; she knew he was right, and she would make her choice tonight. Because she needed to know.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and they continued to walk in silence back to the coach.