Chapter 5
Darcy took a deep breath and tugged his waistcoat down.
He had told his valet that he would cease taking breakfast in his rooms and to inform the housekeeper of that fact.
Mr. Maunder would never show any emotion and Darcy could not face the gleam in the eye of Mrs. Reynolds if he had told her directly.
He did not want to hesitate in front of the footmen flanking the door of the breakfast room, so he took the deep breath he needed as he turned into the room.
Elizabeth was there, eating absently as she noted something down using a pencil in a small notebook.
Darcy was embarrassed. She ought never have been left to eat alone. Perhaps, after Christmas, he should seek her a companion. No, he would be more companionable. He cleared his throat, and she looked up startled, and rose to her feet to curtsy.
“Mr. Darcy!”
He bowed. “Please, madam, do not interrupt your meal for me.” He hesitated. “May I join you?”
“Of course.” She retook her seat, closed the notebook and pushed it and the pencil away.
He bowed his head to her and went to the sideboard to gather himself some breakfast. Why had he avoided her, and also missed the opportunity to choose what food he wished? He had always enjoyed the relative informality of breakfast.
He took a seat across the table from her, but not directly opposite, and tried to smile.
She smiled slightly in return, and his heart stuttered. “Might I ask, may I know what notes you were making?” He hoped he did not sound too overbearing.
But she did not seem to be offended. “I was merely listing my plans for the day and what I need to speak to Mrs. Reynolds about.”
Darcy nodded, and applied himself to his meal, considering what she had said. But he could hardly ask further, and this room was hardly informal enough for what he wished to say. He looked up, and at the two footmen standing against the wall.
“Refill Mrs. Darcy’s cup, please, then leave us and close the door.”
Elizabeth looked up, surprised once more. She nodded her thanks to the footman as he refilled her cup. Darcy took note. Tea, with a little milk but no sugar. I must remember. As the door closed, leaving them alone, the silence seemed to charge the room with a heavy atmosphere.
His wife — his wife! — glanced at him and then away, before she drew a breath. “It is good to see you this morning, sir. I would welcome the chance to improve what I know of you.”
Darcy swallowed. He had not missed her essential kindness although he could hardly believe she would direct it towards him. “I must apologise, madam. I have not considered your feelings, believing …” he could not quite find the words.
Her voice was soft. “Neither of us has been open with each other, so we can hardly know what our feelings are. But we are here now, and I would dearly like to have an improved atmosphere between us.”
The morning sun slanted in the east-facing windows, causing a sparkle on the silverware, and Darcy’s heart warmed.
Her hair showed chestnut highlights in the sunlight.
What would it be like, seeing her out of doors in the summer?
“I have been so certain you resented me bitterly and wanted nothing more than for me to keep out of your sight.”
She looked surprised. “And I thought you could not bear the sight of me. After you insulted my looks at the assembly and declared I was of no consequence, it was obvious your anger at having to marry me would …”
“No!” Darcy burst out. He winced. She heard me! “No, it was not that. You were so angry that I had gone to your father to …”
“And why did you? There was no scandal that could not have been got over for you without the necessity of marriage, surely?”
“It would have been possible for me to escape censure, Mrs. Darcy,” he acknowledged, “but your mother ensured you would be ruined.”
She shrugged slightly. “I cannot see why it would have concerned you so, sir. After all, you disdained me.”
He dropped his head into his hands. “I cannot apologise enough, madam. I had no notion you had heard me say what I did. Something so untrue in a moment of pique with my friend.” He looked up. “It has been weeks now that I have considered you the handsomest woman of my acquaintance.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You need not resort to idle flattery, sir. My mother has long slighted my looks. I did not think it was a lie, but that you would speak, quite loudly, in the presence of my friends and neighbours. That is what hurt and angered me.”
“It was a lie, Mrs. Darcy,” he said firmly. “You may not be the image of your mother, but hers is not the only type of beauty in the world.”
“Then I thank you,” she said softly. She smiled mischievously. “But I have a penance for you to pay.”
Darcy’s hand tightened on his fork. Would she always be able to take him unawares like this? “And what might that be, madam?” His heart raced. Her smile did not seem to imply it was a terrible thing, but he was unsure — he was unable to take the meanings of peoples’ expressions.
Her eyes danced. “I dislike never hearing my given name. Please might you call me Elizabeth, not Mrs. Darcy or madam — unless you are chastising me, of course!”
His gaze dropped. “I am desolated, madam … Elizabeth.” Elizabeth. “I had not considered …”
She shook her head. “You have been used to living more formally, sir. I could not have expected it to occur to you.”
He looked into her steady gaze and attempted a tentative smile. “Might I ask you to return the favour? My family call me William.”
“William.” She seemed to roll the word around. “It suits you, sir.” Then she laughed. “I would be glad to call you William.”
“Thank you.” He was entirely undone by the way her lips, pink and inviting, shaped his name. Would they be warm and soft? He cleared his throat.
“What have you in that list you wish to do today?”
She glanced at the window. “I am hoping to search out greenery to bring indoors so we may decorate the house for Christmas. I know it is only family,” she hurried on, “and Miss Darcy will wish to join us in preparing the house when she arrives, but …”
He shook his head. “I am sorry, I ought to have informed you yesterday, but an express rider managed to get through. My sister will not be joining us. My cousin who was escorting her insisted they turn back within the day, and they have returned to London. It would not have been safe to continue in this weather.” He could speak her name again.
“I apologise for not informing you, Elizabeth.” It was wonderful to refer to her so intimately.
He continued hastily. “And of course you would not know, but if the weather is likely to become inclement, Mrs. Reynolds arranges that holly and other greenery is collected several days in advance.” He hesitated again.
“If you would wish to begin decorating the house today, perhaps you would permit me to join you?”
Her smile lit the room even more than the sunshine did, and his breath hitched.
“I would be delighted, William. I always enjoyed setting up the house for the festivities at Longbourn.” Her expression dimmed slightly, and he cast around for the right words to say.
“Perhaps next year, we might arrange to celebrate the season at Darcy House where it would be easier to call upon your family.” He could not admit to any sort of pleased anticipation, but perhaps it would not be too difficult.
Less than an hour later, they were in the drawing room, surrounded by boxes carried up from the lower part of the house. Elizabeth seemed delighted by the extent of the greenery collected, and was now exploring a box of candles and ribbons, which were soon ordered onto the table.
Darcy was embarrassed by the mistiness in front of his eyes; the atmosphere in the house seemed once more to be as it had been long ago when his mother would permit him to delve into the boxes before she supervised the staff with the decoration.
Home. Pemberley felt like home again.
“Look, William!” Elizabeth’s voice was full of anticipation. “What is this?” She had unwrapped an object and lifted it carefully.
He smiled at the delicate brass contrivance.
“It is a table novelty my mother had from Austria.” He pushed away the sadness it evinced.
“We always set it out at Christmas when she was alive, but my father had it put away the first year after, and I had not thought of it until now. Look,” he set it upon the low table, “we place a candle here, and the warmth from the flame turns these vanes, so the little figures spin round.”
“Oh,” she breathed, and looked up at him. “Would it pain you to have it lit this year? I should like to see it move.”
“Of course we shall display it if you wish.” He rose, only then noticing Mrs. Reynolds in the doorway, her eyes soft as she watched them. He gave her a warning look; he would not have Elizabeth — or himself — become a spectacle for the servants.
“Mrs. Reynolds, pray fetch a candle to fit this curiosity — and then you may shut the door.”
As the tiny vanes turned, Elizabeth watched with wonder, kneeling to see it more closely. “Oh, William, I have never seen anything like it. Thank you for showing it to me.”
Darcy sat upon the sofa near her. “I am happy it gives you pleasure,” he said, his voice low. How he longed to caress her, to run his fingers through her lustrous hair. How had he not noticed his growing regard for her?
But would she welcome him? He had thought it impossible, but she was warmer today. Had he really only needed to notice her, be in her company, pay her the attentions she deserved?
He made a solemn vow to himself. He would do all in his power to ensure her happiness.
He had not noticed she was despondent until the previous day.
And that was because he had made every effort not to observe her, sure her resentment would be obvious, and it would exacerbate his feelings of guilt.
He was wretched at the thought of her pain.
And he was blessed that she seemed to be forgiving of his transgressions, that her spirits seemed improved. Hope burned within him. Perhaps Christmas would bring more than snow to Pemberley.