Chapter 23 #2
Just then her stomach released a loud growl and they both laughed.
“I suppose that answers the question. Come.” He held out a hand and she followed him into the room between their private chambers. A selection of breakfast items was laid out on a side table and she quickly filled a plate and sat across from Fitzwilliam.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
She flushed. “Yes, I did, thank you. And you?”
“Better than ever.” He grinned, of course.
She nodded and looked down as he winked at her, her face impossibly red now.
“What shall we do today?” she asked a few bites later.
“Whatever we like. There is no set schedule. I thought in the days to come it would be nice to give you an in-depth tour of the house, and of course you’ll want to meet with the housekeeper and cook, but otherwise, we are at our leisure.”
She nodded. She felt as if she was doing a lot of nodding lately. He looked entirely too satisfied with himself. She would have been irritated by it if he weren’t being so charming. She shook her head, another thing she was doing a lot of these days. Would she ever fully understand her husband?
“I would like to meet with the housekeeper and cook tomorrow, if I may,” she said.
“Of course you may. You are the mistress of the house; you may do whatever you wish.”
She smiled and he returned it. He seemed utterly at ease and almost annoyingly happy.
She never thought she would say it: Fitzwilliam Darcy—Man of Merriment.
She almost made herself laugh with the thought.
Why was he so much more comfortable than she was?
Did he often have breakfast with women in his private sitting room? Had he been married before?
“Am I your first wife?” She was sure she was, but she wanted to double check.
He choked slightly on his tea. “Pardon me?”
“I’m sure I would have heard if I wasn’t, but it suddenly occurred to me that I never asked you before and I wanted to know.”
“Yes, you are, of course. What on earth would make you think otherwise?”
“Well, you seem so comfortable. As if you’ve done this a hundred times before. I just wondered if perhaps you had.” She shrugged and took a sip of her tea.
“If you’d like to know why I seem so at ease, it’s because I have done this a hundred times before.”
Her head shot up and she looked at him with worried eyes.
He really should not enjoy this so much.
His features softened into an odd mixture of tenderness and mischief.
“I have been imagining this morning, and last night, and yesterday, for months. Your place has always been here, across the table from me, in bed next to me, living with me. You belong here, Elizabeth. How can I be anything but pleased that you have finally come home?”
She stared at him, unable to speak, feeling unexpectedly touched. He found her hand on the table and kissed it tenderly. She squeezed his hand in return.
“I have been meaning to ask you,” he asked softly, “are you well this morning?”
It was impossible to mistake his meaning.
“I am a trifle sore, but nothing overwhelming.” He looked relieved.
The desire to tease could not be resisted.
“And you, sir? Are you well?” He looked at her in surprise.
She pressed on, “You were very… active last night. You did not sustain an injury?” She looked at him sincerely, her mouth slightly twitching in the corner the only hint that she was teasing him.
Immensely pleased to see her playful after such a serious day and night, and on such a subject, he smiled and joined her game.
“I assure you, Mrs. Darcy, your husband is not in such poor condition that one night of activity will render him lame. I am fit for activity again as soon as my lady may accommodate.”
“Are you now?” she asked in a playful tone. “What a lucky lady I am, to marry a man of such strength and stamina.”
“You have no idea, Mrs. Darcy.”
At this he rose and pulled her from her chair, her surprise mounting as he bent down and picked her up, her feet flying from the ground as she shrieked.
“Fitzwilliam! Put me down this instant! What are you doing? Are you trying to hurt yourself?”
She kicked and even hit his shoulder more than once, but he did not release her until they were in her chamber and he dropped her into the center of the freshly made bed. She yelped as she landed and he quickly plopped down next to her.
“See? I am perfectly fit.” He smiled boyishly and she couldn’t help but laugh at the picture he presented.
Finally, when the sun was high in the sky, Elizabeth was dressed in her new pale pink gown and awaiting her husband who had promised her a detailed tour of the house.
“Sanders, do I look different to you?” she asked her maid after she latched a delicate bracelet on her wrist.
“Different, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Yes. I fear I am walking strangely. What do you think?” She walked a few steps away and turned back. “Do you notice anything amiss?”
“No, madam, other than looking a bit careful, you seem the same as yesterday.”
“Careful. Hmm. Thank you, that will be all. I’ll ring when I need you.”
The maid curtsied and disappeared, leaving Elizabeth wondering what exactly a person looked like when walking carefully.
Like the way Jane walked when she sprained her ankle three years ago?
Surely she wasn’t limping! Or perhaps it was similar to how she walked when she fell out of a tree in Sir William’s orchard when she was fifteen and landed on her backside.
But of course she hadn’t really seen herself walk then, either.
She would describe the way she moved then as careful, though.
She tried to see herself in the large mirror in her dressing room, but the room was of such a size and the mirror in such a location that she couldn’t make out anything useful.
She decided to move it into the bedchamber where there would be more space and wider angles.
She grabbed the mirror on either side and lifted, but it would not budge.
She considered calling a footman, but how would she explain what she was doing?
In the end, she tilted the mirror and braced it against her hip while leaning back and pulling with all her might.
She had to stop once, but she did eventually get it into the bedchamber and placed in the corner.
So settled, she walked away from the mirror, looking over her shoulder at herself the whole way. She adjusted the mirror and her direction and tried again. She didn’t look very different, just strange with her head turned round.
“What are you doing, Elizabeth?”
She jumped and her hand flew to her chest. “Fitzwilliam! Do you not make noise when you walk?”
He raised a brow and gestured toward the mirror. “Did you move that yourself?” he asked.
“I didn’t want to call a footman and it wasn’t too heavy.”
“Hmm.” He walked toward the mirror and lifted it, making another face at her when he realized its weight. She shrugged sheepishly and he shook his head at her.
“Are you finished? Shall I return it for you?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” she replied, grateful to get him away from the topic of what she was doing.
He lifted the mirror easily and walked into the dressing room with it, reappearing a moment later. “Now, what exactly were you doing? Watching yourself walk? You’re not trying out some ridiculous new sashay, are you?” he asked worriedly.
She laughed. “No, of course not! I was merely observing something.”
“What were you observing?” he inquired.
“Nothing of consequence. Now, where shall we begin the tour? The guest wing?”
“Why won’t you tell me?” He continued to question her.
“Tell you what?”
“What you were doing,” he replied, slightly annoyed at her avoidance.
“Must you know everything that I do in the privacy of my own rooms?” she asked, now irritated herself.
A hurt look ran across his features before he straightened his shoulders and said stoically, “Of course, madam. Forgive me for intruding on your privacy. Shall we?”
He opened the door to the hall and she stepped through, noticing that he looked steadfastly over her head and refused to look at her face.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said softly. He finally looked down when she put her hand on his arm and met her worried expression. “Have I hurt you?”
He released a breath and had a moment of struggle with his pride, but then decided he would risk speaking to his wife.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth. You have every right to privacy. It is only my overzealousness to be close to you that wants to know everything, and I admit it stung when you did not want to tell me.” He shook his head.
“It is a very strange thing—being in love with a woman.”
He looked at her and she felt something inside her soften a bit further.
“I want to give you everything, share everything with you. I have never been in such a situation before. I’m afraid I do not always handle it properly.,” he said.
“I think you handle it beautifully most of the time,” she said, and reached up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I apologize for being thoughtless. I did not realize your intent.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I invaded your rooms, not the other way round.”
“Nevertheless,” she said. She placed her hands on his chest and played with the lapels of his jacket. Did she feel his heart speed up beneath her hand? “Dearest, can you keep a secret?” There was definitely a quickening beneath her palm now.
“Of course.”
She looked around the deserted hallway to ensure they were alone before speaking quietly. “I was trying to look at my walk.”
“Your walk?” He looked utterly confused.
“Yes. I felt like I was walking differently and I wanted to see if it was noticeable to others. That is all.”