Chapter 18
The limited number of guest rooms in the Gardiners’ London house meant that Jane and Elizabeth shared a room, Mary and Kitty shared, and a very unhappy Lydia slept in the nursery.
Her young cousins were much too young to share with.
The eldest was only eleven years old. It was almost enough to send her into a tantrum, but just before she lost control of her temper, the nurse offered to allow Lydia the extra bed in her room next to the nursery.
It was meant for a wet nurse but there was currently no need for one.
Lydia jumped at the chance and happily left her young cousins behind.
They had arrived early and decided to make a quick trip to the shoemaker before dinner.
Mrs. Bennet declared they had much shopping to do and no time to waste.
Mrs. Gardiner had taken the liberty of choosing a few patterns for Elizabeth that she thought her niece would like, but they still needed to be fitted.
Her wedding dress had been made in Margate along with a few other pieces, but her mother insisted that the wife of Mr. Darcy must have an impressive trousseau.
Mr. Bennet tried to rein her in, and in the end succeeded a little, but he still cringed at the thought of the bills that would soon be arriving.
Elizabeth made orders for several new pairs of slippers, walking boots, half boots, and a warmer pair for winter. Plans to visit the modiste, the draper, the furrier and glove maker were made for the next few days and Elizabeth already felt exhausted just thinking about it.
Mr. Darcy sent around a card saying he would call Thursday morning if Elizabeth would be available.
Mrs. Bennet was torn between telling him there was too much to do to sit around waiting for calls and giving him whatever he asked for to avoid angering him.
In the end, it was decided that Elizabeth would stay home with her father and await Mr. Darcy while her mother, sisters, and aunt went shopping for their own apparel.
When Darcy finally arrived in Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth was seated in the front drawing room where her aunt received visitors.
Her father was in her uncle’s study; he felt that with both doors open and only a small hall between them, nothing untoward would occur.
Elizabeth stood and curtseyed when Darcy entered the room and before she had fully straightened, he was standing before her and taking her hand.
“Dearest,” he said softly, “are you well?”
“Yes. And you, sir?”
“Yes, very well now you are come.” He pressed her hand to his chest and gazed into her eyes until she flushed from the scrutiny.
“Please, be seated.” She sat on the settee and he joined her, sitting close enough to press his leg to hers and rest their still-joined hands on his knee.
“Was your journey pleasant?” he asked.
“As pleasant as a journey with such a large party can be. And yours?”
“As expected.”
“Fitzwilliam.”
“Yes?”
“You’re staring at me again.”
“I have missed you.”
“It has only been three days.”
“Nevertheless.”
She smiled and shook her head but squeezed his hand within hers.
“Do you have your week all planned out?” he asked.
“Mostly, yes, but some time can be set aside for you if that is what you are leading up to.” She smiled coyly. She quite liked flirting with him. It garnered her the most wonderful results.
He smiled. “That is exactly what I was asking. I’d like for you to meet Georgiana and tour the house, and of course your family should come for dinner.”
“I’d love to meet your sister. Perhaps she could come for tea?”
He looked dubious. “We could accomplish two tasks at once if you came to the house for tea. You could meet the staff and interview your new maid if you like.”
“Very well. When shall this momentous tea take place?” she asked.
“Whenever you are ready. Mrs. Brown, the London housekeeper, has two different girls she would put forward as your maid. You are to choose between them. Of course, if neither of them is to your liking, we can continue the search.”
“Of course, Fitzwilliam, thank you.”
“I love that.”
“What?”
“The sound of my name on your lips. You make it sound so very appealing.”
“Do you not normally find it appealing?” she asked.
“Not particularly. I normally find it cumbersome.”
She laughed. “I like it. It is a dignified name, and not one you will find on every other man in the country.”
“I suppose that is true. Now,” he said, angling his body toward hers, “when shall I get my welcome kiss?”
“Is there such a thing? I have never heard of it. I think you are making occasions up, Mr. Darcy, in order to attain more kisses. Besides, you arrived before I did, so shouldn’t you welcome me?”
“Very well, I shall give you a welcome kiss.”
She laughed outright. “Fitzwilliam, you are incorrigible! There is no such thing, I am sure of it.”
“Of course there is. You simply have not heard of it before; you should spend more time in town.”
She watched him with an amused smile as he leaned closer and closer to her.
“Now, I will welcome you to London and you can welcome me to Gracechurch Street. How does that sound?” he suggested playfully.
She could do aught but smile brightly and shake her head, then lean forward to meet him where he was already tilting his head in anticipation of their kiss.
“There is one for your welcome,” she said as she pulled away from a quick peck, “and one for mine.” The second kiss was gentle and soft and lasted considerably longer than the first.
Darcy sat back with a satisfied smile. “That is much better.”
She laughed and rose, tugging him up behind her. “Come, you should greet my father.”
Friday brought Mr. Bingley to Gracechurch Street. The women of the family were preparing to leave, the hall filled with bustling as five women tied on their bonnets and slipped on their gloves.
Mr. Bingley apologized and asked if it wasn’t a good time, and Mrs. Bennet said it was no trouble at all, Jane would stay behind.
Kitty was sent for and told to stay in the corner to give them privacy.
Mrs. Bennet whispered the instructions in her ear but she wasn’t as good at whispering as she imagined she was and everyone heard.
Jane was mortified, but Bingley was glad of the time alone, even if it came at the cost of a little embarrassment.
Mrs. Gardiner sent in tea before the two matrons, the bride, and Mary were off to the shops.
Bingley was very pleased to spend time with Jane Bennet.
He had enjoyed renewing the acquaintance while in town and after much deliberation, he’d decided that Darcy was wrong about Jane’s feelings for him.
If she had felt nothing for him, why had she been so nervous when she saw him again?
If her heart was untouched, why did she blush so when he touched her in a dance or kissed her hand?
No, he was sure Darcy had been mistaken. His friend was just a man, after all.
And if he was right and his friend was wrong about Jane’s feelings, it meant he had left her in the lurch, expecting him to come back and likely being grieved when he did not.
Was that why she was so skittish now? Why the ease they had enjoyed in Hertfordshire was so difficult to recapture?
Could he blame her? Of course not! He would not want an inconstant lover and neither would he wish one for her.
He knew he might make a nuisance of himself, but he couldn’t care.
Darcy practically oozed satisfaction when Bingley saw him last, and he knew why.
Darcy was marrying the woman he loved and perpetually looked like the cat that got the cream.
Bingley wished such joy for himself, and he knew he would have it with Jane.
He would call again and again until she saw it, too.
Saturday arrived bright and clear for Elizabeth’s tea with the Darcys.
Her mother and Jane were accompanying her.
She would take tea with Georgiana and Fitzwilliam, tour the house, and meet with the housekeeper.
She would then be introduced to the two women vying for the position of her personal maid.
One worked full time in the London house and the other was a regular seasonal maid who had recently undergone training to be a lady’s maid.
Elizabeth asked that no further information be given to her about them so that she wouldn’t make a biased choice, but she had already gathered that the one from the house in town was a generational employee and had been with the family her entire life.
When the carriage pulled up in front of the large stone house, Elizabeth steeled her nerves and took a deep breath.
The house itself did not bother her. However, the idea that she would be in charge of said house and its inhabitants was another story.
She squared her shoulders and squeezed Jane’s hand, then walked in with her head held high.
“Welcome to Darcy House, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy. He was standing by the door and after greeting her sister and mother, quickly took Elizabeth’s arm and led her to the drawing room.
He introduced her to his sister, Georgiana, and sat next to Elizabeth on a settee near Georgiana’s chair. Jane took the chair next to her and Mrs. Bennet sat across from them.
“This is a lovely room, Mr. Darcy.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet.”
“The material looks so expensive! Has it recently been redone?” she asked, her hand running over the brocade on the arm of her chair.
“My aunt refurnished it about four years ago, I believe,” he answered.
“Your aunt Lady Catherine?”
“No, my Aunt Lady Constance.”
“Oh, is she your mother’s sister? The daughter of an earl?” she asked eagerly.
Jane’s cheeks were red and she stared at the carpet, unable to raise her eyes, while Elizabeth was silently wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
“No, my mother had but one sister, Lady Catherine, whom you met in Kent. Lady Constance is my father’s sister. Her husband is Viscount Melburn of Broxley.”