Chapter 13
Darcy read Elizabeth’s letter with an increasingly growing smile.
She was sounding more like her old self.
All would be well. Elizabeth had said nothing about a traveling companion.
Perhaps she was warming to the idea of being alone together; or her father had spoken to her.
Either way, he was closer than ever to bringing home his bride, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy.
On his way home from the club that afternoon, Darcy stopped into a small jewelry store.
He wandered around, looking from display to display, hoping something would jump out at him.
After Elizabeth’s tale of her favorite gift from the uncle who knew her so well, he’d been able to think of little else but doing the same.
He would buy her a gift that would suit her perfectly and she would realize how well he knew her, how well-matched they were, and it would have the added bonus of increasing her affection for him.
This was a great responsibility to place on one tiny gift, and just when he thought he’d found the right thing, something else would catch his eye.
In the end, the pressure of choosing something so perfect proved to be too much and he left the store in a frustrated huff.
He walked along Bond Street and made a stop at his tailor, as had been arranged, for a final fitting of his wedding coat.
He was wearing blue. His sister had assured him that it was fashionable but he wouldn’t look like a dandy and the color was very complementary to his complexion.
He’d agreed and wondered what Elizabeth was wearing.
She hadn’t mentioned it in her letters. He hoped they would look well together, then immediately chastised himself for such a dandified thought.
As he was walking to his carriage, he passed a small hat shop that had a display of hair combs in the window.
A pair caught his eye and he stepped closer.
They had a cluster of small blue flowers—he didn’t know what kind, and he thought them very pretty and very like Elizabeth.
Simple, beautiful, sweet, not seeking attention but sparkling just the same.
He quickly stepped inside and bought the combs and had them wrapped and was on his way home in five minutes, a curious smile on his face.
Before he could become distracted, he closed himself in his study to write a letter to his betrothed.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I hope you are well. I’m so glad you are pleased with going to The Lakes.
I think you will enjoy them immensely. I have borrowed a house from a friend of mine, John Lansdowne.
He has an ideal place just off the shore of Lake Windermere and has agreed to allow us the use of it for a month.
I have visited it twice before—it is a comfortable house and has a sweeping view of the lake as it is settled on a bit of a rise.
There is a small boat that we can use to go out on the water.
There is also an island not too far off shore that we could picnic on if you’d like.
In answer to your question, I do enjoy fishing.
I’m sure someone as lively as yourself would find it incredibly dull, but I have always found it relaxing.
There are no pressing matters needing my attention, no disputes for me to settle or stewards to discuss business with.
It is best early in the morning when the day is still and I can watch the forest around the stream awaken.
There is a particularly good fishing spot about one and one half miles from the house.
It is in a small glade where the water swells.
Many of the animals come there for a drink and if you sit very still, the deer will approach the stream without a look in your direction.
My father took me there as a boy; I cannot wait to show it to you.
I am sure you would find it a peaceful place to escape with a good book.
I cannot wait to show you Pemberley. I know you will love it. There are paths and trails abounding—I’m sure even you will be satisfied with them. We should arrive there in August and you will be able to see it in all its summer glory.
I know it is dull, but there is some business that must be settled.
I was speaking with my housekeeper about your imminent arrival and she wished to know if you will be bringing your maid with you.
Also, will you be bringing a horse? I shall alert the stables if you intend to.
If you do not, I will have to find you a suitable mount.
Do you have any preferences? I believe there is a horse in Pemberley’s stables that will suit until a new one can be procured, but I should like you to have a new mount if you do not wish to bring your own.
I still do not know the color of your gown.
I am choosing to see it as a small oversight and not a deliberate attempt to be mysterious, though I am sure you will be lovely whatever you wear.
Georgiana insisted I wear blue, and so a new coat has been made in that color.
I hope it will suit—G is desperately worried that we will clash.
Yours,
F. Darcy
Elizabeth had mixed emotions on reading his latest. She seemed back in his good graces, which was of course a good thing, and though he was a touch high handed, he wasn’t too offensive.
She decided being her usual lively, impertinent self was the right thing to do.
After all, if he had fallen in love with her, it was not because she flattered and flirted with him.
He must have seen something he liked and she saw no reason to alter what was clearly working in her favor.
Dear Mr. Darcy,
I can assure you I would never attempt to be mysterious, and if I were, I would probably not be very successful at it!
I did not tell you the color of my dress because in my usual fashion, I waited until the absolute last moment to choose the fabric.
The style came easily enough, but the color was very contentious.
My mother and I could not agree, not a terribly unusual occurrence, and I was being stubborn as I often am.
Please consider yourself duly warned, sir!
I can be terribly mule-like when it comes to the color of my gowns!
You should be pleased to hear that we finally settled on a light blue, so I am sure we shall look fine together.
Mother says it matches my eyes and refuses to believe me when I tell her they are more green than blue.
She has her heart set on five blue eyed daughters and will not hear a word otherwise.
Though Mary’s have been positively hazel since she was three, but you did not hear that from me.
Now, about this horse business. I am happy that you wish me to begin my new life with a new horse, but I must tell you that I am no horsewoman and beg you not to go to any expense on that front.
I’m sure whatever docile creature you have in the stables will do.
I am really not very skilled and a fine animal would be wasted on me.
I do not intend to bring my maid. I share her with my sisters Jane and Mary, and I am sure they would not appreciate me taking her from them.
Perhaps your housekeeper has a suggestion?
Maybe one of the housemaids can be trained up for the position?
Forgive me if I am overstepping, but I have noticed that promoting from within has always done well for the spirits and loyalty of the staff.
Now, for my favorite topic: The Lakes! I cannot tell you how I look forward to it.
I’m sure your friend’s house will be lovely and a picnic on an island sounds like perfection.
I have been meaning to ask you whom you intend to accompany us.
I had thought to ask my sister Jane, but she is needed by our parents here.
My sister Mary would possibly like to go, but I wanted to speak with you before I invited her.
Had you intended to invite your sister? I do not know if she is yet out. How old is she?
And might I remind you, sir, you never told me your age!
I do not like to be kept in ignorance on such a subject.
And I still do not know your favorite meals.
And, most grievous of all, I do not know your given name.
I am embarrassed to admit it, but I do not, and I would be mortified to ask my father and admit to my ignorance.
If it was ever mentioned in Hertfordshire I have forgotten, and your aunt and cousin always called you ‘Darcy’.
I know it begins with an ‘F’, but that is the extent of my knowledge.
So in two weeks’ time, I am to marry a man whose name and age I do not know, and whom I shall likely feed inedible meals because he will not tell me if he prefers venison to mutton.
For shame! I must insist you rectify these mistakes, at once, sir!
Impertinently Yours,
Elizabeth Bennet
My Dear Elizabeth,
I will wait upon you as soon as possible and answer all your questions. We cannot have you walking down the aisle in ignorance, now can we? I shall be right behind this letter.
F.D.
Elizabeth looked up from reading this latest to see her father entering the room, followed by Mr. Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy!” She stood hastily and his letter dropped from her hand. He quickly stepped in front of her and picked it up while she gave a hasty curtsey.
“Hello, Elizabeth,” he said warmly.
She felt her cheeks flush. Smiling nervously, she said, “Hello, Mr. Darcy.”
“Fitzwilliam.”
“Hmm?”
“Please, call me Fitzwilliam. It is my given name.”
“Oh! Oh, of course, Fitzwilliam,” she said shyly.
He smiled. “Would you care to take a walk?”
“My father…,” she looked around, suddenly realizing her father had left them alone. Again. “Yes, a walk would be nice.”
She led him out of the house and down to the shore. They walked along silently for a few minutes before he spoke.
“How are you?”