Chapter 27
WHERE IT RAINS VERY HARD, AND EVERYONE IS FEELING HUNGRY.
Elizabeth released her hold upon the lovely blue and white floral curtains and turned away from the bedchamber window.
The stirring of cool air as they fluttered closed encouraged her to move towards the warmth of the fire.
When the rain had turned to ice shortly after the supper hour, Darcy’s housekeeper had prepared the blue room for her—a delightful confection of pale blue velvet, white damask, and fragrant white roses.
Unlike the mistress’s chamber, no bookshelves adorned its walls.
For one whose animated thoughts made finding sleep impossible, it was the worst sort of inconvenience.
With a resigned sigh, Elizabeth donned her robe and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders.
If there was no book within her rooms to assist her in finding repose, she would have to go in search of one.
Though she had yet to see evidence of a library, Elizabeth could not imagine Darcy living without a well-established, varied collection of titles in his London residence.
She determined to discover it. Borrowing a book from the mistress’s chamber was out of the question.
After retrieving a candle from the bedside table, Elizabeth slipped into the hall. She had no sooner shut the door behind her when she felt a hand upon her arm.
“Good evening, Miss Bennet,” said Mrs Lawrence in a hushed voice. “How wonderful it is to see you about as well—and with a candle, too! If you do not mind, I could use your assistance finding the kitchen. I have my heart set on some of that magnificent chocolate cake that was served for dessert.”
The candle sputtered, then flared as Elizabeth expelled a startled breath of air. The last thing she expected at such a late hour was to meet with someone else and had nearly screamed with fright. “I did not expect you, Mrs Lawrence. You gave me quite a shock!”
“Oh, dear. I am terribly sorry to have scared you.” She relieved Elizabeth of her candle, linked their arms together, and proceeded to lead her towards the sweeping staircase at the end of the hall.
“This is such a beautiful house, but I find it confusing. I am all turned around, but so I always am whenever I spend the night in a home other than my own. I suppose it is all part of the adventure.”
“It is a beautiful house,” Elizabeth agreed as her racing heart slowed to a gallop.
“And it is to be your home very soon. What a fortunate young woman you are, Miss Bennet. In addition to being mistress of all this, you will have a dashing husband with whom to weather life’s storms. He was especially quiet this evening, but so many young gentlemen shoulder much in the way of responsibility these days.
I daresay he will speak when he is of a mind to do so.
Still waters, if you will remember, my dear.
Your Mr Darcy is no shallow wading pool.
He is an ocean with complex currents and fathomless depths.
” Her eyes appeared to twinkle in the candlelight. “I certainly hope you can swim!”
The hint of a smile played at the corners of Elizabeth’s mouth.
It was not the first time Bingley’s aunt had compared Darcy to the sea, nor the first time Elizabeth thought such an analogy was fitting.
She was hard-pressed to name a more complex man than her future husband.
Though he had by no means lost his penchant for seriousness, little by little Darcy’s staunch reserve was dissolving, revealing a softer, more playful side he rarely showed to others.
Whenever they were together—and most especially when they were alone—Darcy not only appeared much at ease, but truly happy.
Elizabeth had been happy as well, but upon entering Darcy’s private apartment that afternoon, the ease and general light-heartedness that had developed between them since their engagement had been altered.
Had she an inkling of what awaited her on the other side of that door Elizabeth would never have opened it in the first place.
What Darcy must have thought of her brazenness!
She should not have been ignorant of a husband’s requisite for a private entrance to his wife’s bedchamber, but it appeared she was precisely that ignorant.
Darcy’s admonishment had left Elizabeth mortified, but when he quit the room, she had wanted to weep.
By the time she felt mistress enough of herself to follow him, Darcy was nowhere to be found.
A full hour passed until she saw him again, and then only in the presence of Mrs Lawrence.
Though he had gazed at Elizabeth near constantly, each time their eyes met, he quickly turned his head aside and proceeded to focus his attention on any object other than herself.
Supper had been a quiet affair. Darcy was subdued and distracted and offered little in the way of conversation besides the usual courtesies and polite observations.
Fortunately, Mrs Lawrence spoke enough for all of them and managed to carry the weight of their conversation through three courses.
Elizabeth contributed what she could of her share, but Darcy proved far more introspective than he was talkative.
Elizabeth could not help drawing an almost identical comparison between this version of him and the sedate, brooding version she had originally known when they had first met in Hertfordshire more than a year ago.
It pained her to think he was so shocked by her entering his rooms and so affronted by her intrusion upon his privacy that he could not stand to speak to her.
Elizabeth had passed the remainder of the evening in distracted conversation with Mrs Lawrence while attempting to embroider a pair of gloves but was so distressed by Darcy’s withdrawal that most of her time was spent tearing out her uneven stitches.
Though Darcy had joined them in the drawing room for coffee and dessert, he kept to the opposite side of the room attending to his correspondence; in actuality, Elizabeth noted he spent far more time staring into the fire than writing his letters.
Not only was she confused and hurt by his continued silence and the distance he appeared intent upon putting between them, but frustrated as well.
She had made an innocent mistake and, though she desperately wanted to rectify it, had no idea how to accomplish such a task without equal cooperation from Darcy.
To resolve the matter, they must first speak; yet he appeared intent on avoidance.
Shaking off her melancholy ruminations, Elizabeth addressed Mrs Lawrence with an air of forced cheerfulness. “You need not concern yourself with me. I learned how to swim even before I knew how to walk. I shall keep afloat, even if my future husband’s countenance was so very grave this evening.”
“I suspect Mr Darcy is a man of deep feeling, but you shall succeed in teasing him out of his sombre mood before long. Keep in mind that men like to do things in their own time, and the good ones never do anything by halves. We women must simply indulge them and give them what they desire most—a safe harbour and a calm port when the weight of the world weighs too heavily upon their shoulders.”
“You are very wise. I hope someday to have your good sense, as well as your keen powers of observation.”
“And so, you shall, my dear. Many years of marriage to a wonderful, caring, ardent man will do wonders for a woman’s powers of perception, to say nothing of the acquisition of patience!
My Harold was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I almost married a viscount, you know, but it was Harold I loved, and so I accepted him without a moment’s hesitation.
If given the chance, I would not choose to do even one thing differently.
I could live a thousand lifetimes and still I would marry my dear Harold every time.
Besides,” she whispered conspiratorially, “he was an eager, indulgent lover, and quite accomplished in the romantic arts.”
Elizabeth felt a flush of heat, though she doubted her companion noticed her blushing countenance in the dim interior of the hall. She could not help herself—she laughed. “Forgive me. I have no idea what is considered a proper response to such a bold statement.”
“You need say nothing at all. I daresay you shall take my meaning in a few weeks’ time.
” Her grin was cheeky as she held the candle aloft.
“Mr Darcy,” she said warmly, startling Elizabeth.
“We are very glad to have found you! Miss Bennet and I are in search of some cake and have become hopelessly lost. Will you not be a dear and escort us to the kitchen?”
It seemed almost impossible that they would come upon him now, but there was no denying Darcy was in fact standing before them.
He carried no candle to light his way, but Elizabeth was able to see his eyes widen almost comically by the light of theirs.
His surprise at meeting with her was evident in his every feature.
“Of course,” he replied after a moment of stunned silence, stepping aside so Elizabeth and Mrs Lawrence could pass. “I am glad to be of service. This way if you please.”
After two pieces of cake, a pot of tea, and what equated to a glass of brandy, Mrs Lawrence was finally sated and announced her intention to return to her apartment.
At once, Darcy pushed his chair away from the table and stood to attend her.
“Oh, there is no need for all of us to go, Mr Darcy. I believe I saw a footman in the foyer above stairs who should prove quite useful in the event I lose my way. No doubt the young fellow could use a bit of employment. It will keep him on his toes. No, sir, you stay right here with Miss Bennet and finish your brandy. Have a nice little chat and we shall see each other in the morning.”