Chapter Sixty-Nine
There were not enough carriages to allow the newlyweds privacy on the journey to London.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had Georgiana in their carriage; Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had Miss Bingley and the Hursts in theirs.
This was perhaps just as well, as the necessity of participating in conversation prevented the brides, in their separate carriages, from thinking too much about the home and family they had left behind.
Soon enough, the quiet of the country side was replaced by the din of the million inhabitants of the city of London, and the sweet country air became heavy, dirty, and odiferous.
Elizabeth was awestruck by Darcy House. Four stories high, with a tall wrought-iron gate, flanked by square gateposts, in front of the house.
The six-panel front door was painted a glossy black, sporting a decorative fanlight framed by a stone arch.
It was a far cry from the Gardiner’s house on Gracechurch Street, nice as their home was.
As soon as the carriage pulled up, a man and a woman all but ran out of the front door to greet the new arrivals.
Mr. Darcy presented Mrs. Hilden, the housekeeper, and Mr. Samuels, the butler, to their new mistress.
He had sent a message on ahead, alerting them to the fact of his marriage, so they had had time to accustom themselves to the idea of their master having married at last, and to a completely unknown young lady.
Mr. Darcy had asked his aunt to find a lady’s maid for Elizabeth, and so Elizabeth was not surprised to find a middle-aged woman waiting for her in the mistress’ room. The woman curtsied when Elizabeth walked in. “Mrs. Darcy, I am Hawthorne.”
Elizabeth hesitated. She had never had her own lady’s maid, as Sarah had been assigned primarily to Mrs. Bennet, with the daughters left mostly to fend for themselves.
She knew that it was customary to call lady’s maids by their last names, but that seemed cold and rather awkward.
“Is that what you prefer to be called?” she asked, kindly. “Hawthorne?”
“It is what I have always been called.” The woman shrugged.
“Do you prefer that I use your first name?”
“It is Anna, madam.”
“I will call you Anna or Hawthorne, as you prefer. I hope you will tell me your true preference. ”
“Anna seems friendlier.” The woman looked down. “If you do not mind it, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Then Anna it shall be! In case the Countess did not make it clear, I have never had my own lady’s maid before, and I am bound to make a good many mistakes. I hope you will point them out to me, though not, of course, in company.”
“Very good, madam. The Countess did say that you would need…well, I believe ‘support’ was the term she used.”
Elizabeth laughed. “She is quite right.”
“I have unpacked your things; as I suspect you know, there is nothing here that is fit for visiting.”
“I do know, yes. The Countess is to take me shopping, but I will wait until my sister comes the day after tomorrow, and we will go together.”
“Sister?”
“Yes, my middle sister, Miss Mary. Oh, I did not think! Should I engage someone to help her as well?”
Anna shook her head. “If you do not object, I can help her as long as her room is not too far away.”
“Thank you, Anna; that is very kind. My sister is a gentle soul, and I believe you will like her very much. I will speak with Mrs. Hilden about her room at once.”
“Allow me, Mrs. Darcy. I can take care of such little errands for you.”
Anna curtsied and left the room, leaving Elizabeth to walk around her new room, the mistress’ room at Darcy House, and marvel at everything.
The marble mantel, the flowers in vases, the beautiful mahogany writing desk!
The green bed hangings, the matching wallpaper, the cream carpet with green vines running around the edge!
The sheer size of it! She had never seen such a room, let alone imagined herself in it!
“Is everything to your liking, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth whirled around; her husband – husband! – was lounging in the door of her bedroom. “Oh! It is beautiful, William.”
“There is a sitting room; look.” He walked to a door that she had not noticed before and opened it. This room contained a large fireplace; the sofa and two chairs were upholstered in blue and gold; the rug was blue and cream.
“This is my sitting room?”
Mr. Darcy smiled. “It is our sitting room, Elizabeth; see that door on the other side? That is my room.”
Elizabeth nodded. Of course their rooms would be side-by-side. How else could they be together at night?
She felt a frisson run up her spine, a combination of excitement, desire, and perhaps just a touch of nervousness.
It had been a few years since her mother had told her how things would go once she was married; at the time it sounded rather bizarre.
But soon after she had met Mr. Darcy, the idea had not sounded quite so strange after all.
She and Jane had spoken of the tremblings they had felt when being touched or kissed by Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, but they had not spoken of what would inevitably follow marriage.