Chapter 45 Newlywed
Jenny packed Elizabeth’s trunk, and afterward Richard had it conveyed to Darcy House.
Now, an upstairs chambermaid unpacked it while Elizabeth considered what she ought to wear to dinner, her first within her new luxurious home with her striking husband.
She selected a heavy silk gown, the color a deep blush damask rose, with its matching wrap.
She carefully laid out a pair of fine silk stockings and matching slippers.
She should have engaged a lady’s maid as Lady Helen instructed, but amidst all the lessons, fittings, and preparations for her entrance into the ton, the matter had gone unattended.
“Ruby, I shall wear this gown and wrap to dinner. Please have them pressed and ready, and send up hot water for my bath.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The maid rang the bell, and when a footman appeared, she requested the hot water. Once the trunk had been unpacked, the servant drew out a shallow metal bathing tub and placed a screen around it.
“Martha shall bring up the water, Mrs. Darcy. I am going to press your gown, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Ruby.”
Elizabeth seated herself before the mirrored dressing table and began removing the pins from her hair. She had only partially finished when a tap sounded upon the door.
“Come in.”
She continued taking down her hair. She heard the door open, yet no one entered or addressed her. She turned to discover who was there.
Mr. Darcy stood on the threshold watching her.
He bowed his head. “Elizabeth. May I enter?”
She rose to her feet. “Yes, of course, sir.”
“I wished to discover whether there is anything you require.”
She paused in thought. “The water for my bath is being heated. Sir, perhaps you might assist me with my buttons.”
“Buttons?”
“Yes.” She partially turned so he might see the row of buttons running down her back.
“Ah. Yes, of course.”
He entered and shut the door.
“Do you find this too awkward, sir? I am accustomed to having four sisters at my disposal. We assist one another when we dress.”
He approached her, and she turned her back to him. “Not awkward in the least. I am happy to attend you, Mrs. Darcy.” He was grinning.
As he began working on the upper buttons, he asked, “Have you conducted interviews for a maid?”
“No, sir. Lady Helen’s personal maid was meant to oversee the matter, but I never learned whether it was done. To speak plainly, I do not believe I should feel comfortable with anyone Miss Dunn deemed suitable.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Sir, if you would be so good as to take me to Madame Clairemont’s shop, there is a seamstress there with an excellent eye for color and style.
I like her very much. We spent a great deal of time together assembling my trousseau.
Her name is Gibbs. Perhaps she might agree to become my personal maid. ”
“Yes, perhaps.” He continued working on her buttons.
“Mr. Darcy, if you accompany me, you shall know how such matters ought to be managed. Would I need permission from Madame Clairemont, or does the arrangement rest entirely between Miss Gibbs and ourselves?”
“You need not concern yourself with any of that, Elizabeth. My solicitor will arrange everything. I shall dispatch him tomorrow.”
She twisted a little way to face him. “Thank you, sir. I had not realized how inconvenient it would prove to live in a grand house such as this without a maid.”
“Where is Ruby? I sent her to attend you.”
“Yes. I asked her to press my gown for dinner. She also ordered the bath water before she left. I feel a burden, sir. Your servants have assumed extra duties to assist me.”
He straightened. “There, I have finished with your buttons. May I fetch your wrap?”
She stood holding her bodice in place. “To speak truthfully, sir, I do not know where it could be.” She glanced about the room. “Perhaps in one of those drawers.” She gestured toward a heavy mahogany dresser standing against the wall.
He crossed to it and, after opening several drawers, withdrew a garment and held it aloft.
“Is this it?”
“No, sir, that is a petticoat, though I imagine my wrap shall lie somewhere nearby.”
She moved toward him, but her skirts slipped to the floor in a crumpled heap about her ankles. Her petticoat remained in place.
He grinned. “I should not like you to trip, darling. Allow me.”
He offered his hand, and she accepted it as she stepped carefully over the pool of fabric, anxious not to damage her expensive gown.
He bent and lifted the fallen skirt. “This is a lovely gown, Elizabeth. You looked exceedingly fetching in it.”
His gaze traveled slowly down her form.
“And out of it,” he added.
Her cheeks colored. Still clutching her bodice against her breast, she glanced downward.
She remained mostly decent. The petticoat reached nearly to the floor, but it had been fashioned from fine linen and proved almost transparent.
Even as she studied herself, the outline of her legs showed plainly beneath the fabric.
“I look a fright, sir, and should Ruby return now, the servants shall be scandalized.”
He crossed to the door and turned the lock. “There. The servants shall knock when they bring up the water.”
“May I assist you with your hairpins?”
She raised a brow. “You wish to help me with my hair?”
“Yes, ma’am. I should like it exceedingly.”
She did not respond but seated herself at the dressing table, still holding her bodice pressed to her breast.
He came to stand behind her. Through the mirror, she watched his face as he concentrated upon removing each pin with care so as not to pull her hair.
“Sir, we shall be here all night unless you make haste.”
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”
He had nearly finished when a tap sounded upon the door. She hurried behind the screen while he answered it.
Martha stood there with two pails of water.
“Thank you, Martha. I shall take those.”
He carried the pails into the room, then shut and locked the door behind him.
He emptied the water into the tub and grinned at his wife.
“May I assist you, darling?”
She stood silent, looking at him.
“No, sir. Perhaps another time, but at present I feel exceedingly nervous and embarrassed. I am certain that with time and growing familiarity, I shall welcome your assistance with my bath, Mr. Darcy, but not this first evening.”
“Well, ma’am, a husband may hope. Goodness knows, you might have said yes.” He spoke with a grin.
“Sir, should I permit you such liberties, I doubt matters would end with the bath, and to speak honestly, Mr. Darcy, after such intimacies, I should scarcely know where to direct my eyes when we sat alone together at dinner.”
“Of course. I had not considered that.”
“And it is still daylight, sir.”
“Ah, yes. The cover of darkness shall likely help put you more at ease this first time.”
She lowered her gaze to the floor. “Yes, sir.”
He bowed. “I shall not press you, my love. But I confess I look forward to our time together. I shall take my leave through the connecting door.”
She raised her eyes. “Connecting door, sir?”
He gestured toward a wall panel, and only then did she perceive the concealed door.
Elizabeth offered a brief nod and waited while he bowed once more and departed. Left alone, she realized she had neither towel, wrap, nor soap.
She crossed to the connecting door and knocked. A moment later, he opened it.
His cravat was gone, and his shirt was open at the collar. She saw the line of his collar bones and part of his chest. He was not wearing his coat.
He raised a brow.
She lowered her eyes. He had caught her staring again.
“Sir, I have no towel or soap.”
“Ah, yes. One moment. I shall ask Reeves.”
He stepped away from the open door. She crossed to the large dresser and began searching through the neatly folded garments with her free hand. Surely her wrap must lie there somewhere.
She started when he spoke. He stood just behind her.
“Your soap and towel, Mrs. Darcy.”
She accepted them into her free hand. “Thank you, sir.”
“May I assist you, Elizabeth?”
“My wrap, sir. I have not yet found it.”
“Perhaps it is in the dressing room. Shall I look?”
“Yes, sir, please.”
He entered the dressing room and a minute later emerged holding a fine linen garment.
“Is this it?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy. Thank you.”
He handed it to her, and she balanced it atop the soap and towel.
“Thank you, sir. I now have everything I require.”
He bowed and, chuckling, said, “When I heard you knocking upon the connecting door, I believed you may have changed your mind regarding the bath.”
Color rushed from her throat to her cheeks.
“Do not distress yourself, Elizabeth. All is well. I have waited this long. Dinner shall not last forever.” With that parting remark, he bowed and left her.
Elizabeth awoke chilled. Shivering, she reached for the coverlet, but it was not to hand. Then awareness dawned. Her husband’s arm was draped across her waist, and the warmth of his body pressed against her back. A thrill swept through her being.
She was in bed with Mr. Darcy. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the very gentleman she had believed too elevated for the likes of her. More astonishing still, he loved her.
She had not truly understood what love was until her illness had befallen her, and he had come time and again to perform the treatments so necessary to clear her lungs. That her violent coughing fits had not repelled him seemed a miracle.
And now she had been with him, had heard his broken declarations of love and pleasure, had known the happiness of being intimate with Mr. Darcy. Now she understood what love was, and she gloried in it.
She lay perfectly still, listening to his quiet breaths and the slow, steady beat of his heart.
She breathed in his clean, masculine scent, took in the beauty of his form, and wondered how she had ever lived without him. As she lay there marveling at the wonder of Mr. Darcy, he stirred and drew her closer.
She turned to face him, lifted her face to his, and kissed him. She caught his lower lip between her own, and a low sound of pleasure rumbled in his throat.
She was lost then. Lost together with him in a world she could never have imagined.
When she woke again, it was late. She could tell by the angle of the pale winter sunlight slipping through the partially opened drapes. She lay warm beside him beneath the softest down coverlet she had ever known. He shifted his weight.
“Darling, are you hungry?”
She turned to him. He was propped upon one elbow, his head resting in his hand. He was grinning.
He was happy.
“What time is it, sir?”
“Eleven o’clock.”
“I am hungry.”
“Would you prefer breakfast, or a light luncheon of cold meats and bread?”
“Breakfast, if it is not too much trouble.”
“Nothing is too much trouble when desired by Mrs. Darcy.”
She rolled onto her side to face him fully.
“You are very pert this morning, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. I am in bed beside the most beautiful woman in all England, and she makes me exceedingly happy.”
She laughed, a low, musical sound. “I rather like this version of the gentleman who is usually staid and reserved. A besotted Mr. Darcy is very much to my liking.”
He bent and kissed her. His words vibrated softly against her throat as he murmured in a low, intimate voice, “You are everything lovely and enchanting, my darling. I have longed to hold you thus.”
Elizabeth forgot her hunger, as Mr. Darcy’s devotion exceeded every dream she had cherished.