Chapter 16 The Depth of Love #2
Elizabeth startled when Mr Darcy mentioned Miss Darcy.
She had almost looked around for Georgiana, but Ellie was the only Miss Darcy now.
It delayed her departure by less than ten seconds, but Mr Darcy had already quit the room by the time she came to her senses.
She hastened after him and entered the carriage for the short trip back to Darcy House.
Ellie fell asleep on her father’s shoulder. Not even a change of clothing woke her up. She received a kiss on her cheek from both her parents, of which she remained ignorant.
Mr and Mrs Darcy continued to their suite of rooms for an awkward good-night.
Both stood indecisively in front of the mistress’s chamber, uncertain how to proceed.
Had it been their first month of marriage, kissing would have ensued, and the master’s chamber would have been the only bed with wrinkled linens.
As it was, both beds would be used tonight, each by a solitary occupant.
The question in both their minds was whether there should be a kiss or not, but neither had the courage.
“Good-night, Elizabeth.”
“Good-night, Fitzwilliam.”
With a sad smile, Mr Darcy turned and walked into his room. Elizabeth remained in the passage until his back disappeared behind the door.
#
The following morning, the Darcys honoured their promise to the Bingleys about explaining Elizabeth’s sudden departure and speedy return.
They arrived at the Hurst townhouse unfashionably early to break the awkwardness that had descended upon them.
Elizabeth was more relieved than anything else when her husband removed himself from her company to join Mr Bingley in the study.
She needed Jane; her sister’s calm presence would soothe her mind.
Chasing impulsively after her wayward husband, Elizabeth had not pondered how they would manage to feel comfortable in each other’s company once they returned home.
Elizabeth was shown into the front parlour where Jane usually received her morning callers.
“Jane!” Elizabeth did not leave the butler enough time to announce her before she was halfway across the floor.
She was about to relieve her heart when she noticed Jane was not alone. Languishing on a sofa was Mrs Elliot, with a sleeping pug in her lap.
“Oh, Mrs Elliot, what a pleasure to see you.” Elizabeth curtsied, but the eagerness was gone. It was to be hoped the lady would soon be called away.
She was not; instead she remained and droned on about her new lap dog, Mr Elliot’s prospect of inheriting the baronetcy of Kellynch, and engagements they were anticipating in town. Elizabeth and Jane listened politely but not with much interest. Both sisters longed for solitude.
#
Darcy had more luck in his endeavour. Bingley received him with coldness, but hearing Darcy’s rendition of events, culminating in their wish to put the past behind them, his rigid position softened, or perhaps he let it rest because he was missing the company of Mrs Bingley.
Bingley wasted no time joining the ladies and eagerly found his seat beside his wife. Darcy, however, was indecisive and was nearly caught by Mrs Elliot’s claws.
His usual spot, gazing out of the window, would not do.
It might be interpreted as an insult to Elizabeth.
Darcy wished for a sign that Elizabeth welcomed him close to her, but she was ignorant of his conundrum.
Resolute, he chose to stand behind the sofa his wife occupied, away from Mrs Elliot but close to Mrs Darcy without intruding too much upon her person.
Looking down at her, he noticed she was fiddling nervously with her skirt, when the butler announced they had visitors.
Three ladies were shown into the parlour and gravitated towards Mrs Elliot while sending surreptitious glances towards the sofa.
“Mrs Dashwood, Mrs Rushworth, Mrs Ferrars!” Mrs Elliot cooed as the ladies were seated. “How good of you to call. Have you seen my new pug?” She patted her dog out of its sleep while sending barely veiled nods to the sofa.
“No,” Mrs Ferrars offered, “pugs can be quite unruly. Its fur is dull and tattered. Try giving it raw eggs. I have heard they might bring back its brilliancy.”
“Thank you, Mrs Ferrars, I shall attend to it as soon as it is convenient.” Mrs Elliot smirked before remembering herself. “Where are my manners? I forgot you have not been introduced to the elusive Mrs Darcy.”
Polite pleasantries were exchanged, and Elizabeth was apprised and found wanting in all ways that mattered: her apparel, her posture, her air, and her manner of speaking.
Mr Darcy noticed the disdainful looks and chided himself for not attending to his wife’s wardrobe.
Her three-year-old gowns might suffice at Pemberley, when they were not entertaining, but the demands in town were vastly different.
He made a mental note to make an appointment with a seamstress, preferably on Bond Street, but time was of the essence.
He was occupied with this conundrum when the door to the parlour opened again to admit little feet and a tired nanny.
Elysande darted past her mother, hands stretching towards the imposing figure behind her. Darcy glanced towards Elizabeth as he lifted his daughter into his arms. Watching them, his wife smiled with more charity than he would have given their daughter’s demonstration of preference.
He was awarded a sloppy kiss to his cheek, and chubby arms encircled his neck for a precious flash before the girl began to squirm in his arms. He reluctantly put her down on her feet, and she immediately ran to Charlie, giving him the same treatment she had given her father.
Charlie visibly shuddered at the impact of her lips.
“I shall marry Charlie,” Ellie pronounced proudly while patting the smaller boy on the head.
“No!” the boy cried and ran hastily out of the door. Ellie hurried after him; the nanny sighed and turned to follow.
“I shall handle it,” Elizabeth interjected. Darcy made to accompany her, but Elizabeth stopped him with a light touch to his arm.
“Thank you, Mrs Darcy. They have been at it since Miss Darcy arrived,” the nanny complained.
Elizabeth smiled benevolently and left, with Jane and the nanny close behind.
Bingley’s eyes widened when he noticed he had been abandoned with just the tittering females and Darcy. Fortunately, his dislike of the ladies overruled his pique with his friend.
An excuse was swiftly produced to retreat to the study with Darcy, who was his excuse in the form of some papers Bingley had forgotten to show him.
Darcy could only be thankful he had not been abandoned, but he did not remove himself quickly enough to avoid overhearing the snide remarks made about his wife.
He used the respite to borrow a messenger from Bingley to make a run to Bond Street. No lady of his house should elicit derogatory remarks due to her apparel, but there were other ways to work the ton.
Afterwards, he escorted Elizabeth around town to various shops and made sure to make small clandestine visits to various specialists—jewellers, mainly—buying trinkets and larger pieces.
The rumours about the besotted and relieved Mr Darcy needed no more encouragement.
The gossips believed Mrs Darcy had been gravely ill; it had been impossible for Mr Darcy to even speak about it, but she had miraculously recovered from death’s door and was currently being showered with gifts by her elated husband.
Soon they were spotted on numerous occasions about town: the theatre, Vauxhall Gardens, the Menagerie, and museums.
#
Elizabeth entered Darcy’s study. He did not look up; his eyes were fixed on a letter with an impressive letterhead.
“Am I disturbing you?” Elizabeth asked, half turning to leave.
Darcy looked up with an unreadable expression on his face.
“No, please, come in. I suppose I had better tell you.”
“Have you received unpleasant news?” Elizabeth asked and sat primly on the chair in front of his desk.
“I do not know what to make of it. I have never sought such a distinction, but I cannot refuse it either. No, that would definitely not do…”
Elizabeth was more bewildered than enlightened by the explanation.
“Pray, what distinction?”
“I have been knighted by the Prince Regent for my services in apprehending Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“The Prince Regent is knighting you because you committed to Bedlam the man who accosted your wife?”
“Not exactly. I discovered, during my interrogation of him, that he had killed his colonel during the Peninsula War.
It eventually led to the elevation to colonel for himself.
The death had initially made their superiors suspicious, but with no evidence or confession, they were forced to let the matter rest. I had to notify his general when the sordid tale was revealed to me.
The Prince Regent has somehow become aware of the fact and has decided to award me with a knighthood of The Royal Guelphic Order.
Knight Grand Cross is the highest rank of the order, with the motto Nec Aspera Terrent, which means ‘not afraid of difficulties’.
He awarded it to me for turning in my own relative.
He was not informed about the good reason I had to act in such a manner, of course.
My chivalry would not be perceived as quite as self-sacrificing had that been commonly known.
“What say you to the change from Mr and Mrs Darcy to Sir Fitzwilliam and Lady Darcy?”
“Oh my!”
“Exactly. We have no choice but to comply. A ceremony will be held at St James’s in about a month. It will delay our return to Pemberley for some time, and we need new garments appropriate for court.”
“Hoop skirts and trains?”
“Something like that.”
Mr Darcy rose, rounded his desk, and gathered Elizabeth’s hands in his.
“It is not so horrid. If Georgiana could manage to curtsey before the queen, we can bow to the Prince Regent.”
“You do not think I would offend the prince by bowing instead of curtseying?”