Chapter Thirty-Eight
T here was still no maid assigned to Elizabeth, so it was Mr. Darcy who rang the bell and asked the maid who came in response to have water brought up for Elizabeth’s bath. Elizabeth was not quite comfortable with the idea of her husband helping her in her bath, so she asked him to leave the room while the maid helped her.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Carrie, ma’am,” was the quiet reply.
“I thank you for helping me, Carrie,” Elizabeth continued.
The maid simply bobbed a quick curtsey in response.
“My hair is quite long; will you help me dry it?”
Again, just a curtsey.
“Carrie, have you been instructed not to speak with me?”
The maid’s eyes looked up to Elizabeth in astonishment, which then turned to fear; she nodded, slowly, her eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s face.
“Carrie, I am Mrs. Darcy. I am the mistress of Pemberley, no matter what anyone else might tell you. And I am instructing you to speak with me.”
The maid’s mouth opened and then closed. Then she spoke. “I cannot afford to lose my place, ma’am. My mother would be furious with me if I –“ and then she stopped.
“Who is it that would let you go? Mrs. Reynolds?”
“Yes.”
“I promise you that I will speak with Mrs. Reynolds tomorrow and make certain that you are not let go for speaking with me, Carrie. Does that ease your mind?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am sorry, ma’am, it is just that everything has been so difficult since Mrs. Darcy – Lady Anne, rather – got the letter from Mr. Darcy about his marriage!”
This was yet another confirmation that Lady Anne had gotten the letter. “I am sorry for it, Carrie, but can you see that this is not Mr. Darcy’s fault, nor mine?”
“I do not criticise my betters, ma’am,” the girl replied, virtuously.
“And I am not asking you to do so. I am only asking that you understand that I am now the mistress of Pemberley, and no one shall be let go without my knowledge and consent. Now, then, Carrie, let us deal with this mass of hair!”
Thus reassured, Carrie helped Elizabeth to wash and dry her hair, and put her into a nightdress that her Aunt Gardiner had gifted her. It was the softest, sheerest thing Elizabeth had ever seen, let alone worn, and she blushed at her reflection. She saw that Carrie’s eyes were wide with admiration.
“Thank you, Carrie; you may go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” and she scurried away.
Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door that led to the adjoining room.
“Come in,” she called.
William walked in, attired in a dressing gown. She had seen her father in such apparel, of course, but seeing William so clothed was an entirely different experience. He approached her; his eyes were dark, and there was an expression in them that she had not seen before. He looked almost dangerous. Her breath caught. He picked her up, effortlessly, and carried her to her bed. He held her there, suspended above the mattress and whispered, “I thought this day would never come. The journey here was endless.”
Then he placed her on the bed, gently, as if she were made of porcelain, and then lay beside her. “You know what to expect?” he whispered.
“Yes; well, mostly. Mama spoke to me and Jane –“ The words caught in her throat.
“Elizabeth, the first time is likely to hurt, and I am sorry for it, but if at any time you need me to stop, I will.” I hope I will, he thought. And then he thought, please God, do not test me on that.
And he kissed her then, his hands on her hair, then on her shoulders, then her breasts, then lower, to a place she scarcely knew belonged to her, and then her thoughts stopped entirely, as she was lost in sensation, lost to reason, lost in a place she had never before visited or even imagined.