Chapter 16
Chapter 16
The next two days flew by. When Elizabeth woke up early on the third morning, she contemplated her plans for the day and breathed a sigh of relief—no more errands to run today. She had not felt so fatigued even while they were shopping for her wedding finery. Though she had not revealed her feelings to any of her companions for fear of appearing ungrateful, yesterday she had been counting the minutes until the tediously long day was over. She stretched lazily and decided to remain in the warm bed for a few more minutes, amusing herself by recalling the events from the previous days.
The first of them was spent in Madame Blanchet’s boutique on St. James’s Street. She was astounded by how many evening gowns, morning dresses, shawls, capes, and cloaks Lady Matlock considered adequate for Mrs Darcy of Pemberley to make an impression in the beau monde. It appeared that the good lady had made the understatement of the century when she advised Elizabeth to add a few gowns and frocks to her wardrobe. Just imagining the cost of all their purchases made Elizabeth break out in a cold sweat.
She had tried to protest what she felt certain was an unnecessary extravagance, once or twice, but Mr Darcy’s aunt silenced her with the simplest of rhetorical questions. Did she not want to make her husband and her family proud? Elizabeth had fallen silent after that and acquiesced. The difference in the statuses of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mrs Elizabeth Darcy had never been more pronounced. And she would have grown overwhelmed and uncomfortable, if not for the uncomplicated support and enthusiasm for the whole exhausting rigmarole from both Georgiana and Lady Emmaline—uh, Emmaline—as she had requested to be called.
While being measured for her gowns, Elizabeth remembered her riding habit. However, she resolved to remain silent for the time being after mentally begging Poseidon’s pardon. Though she had enjoyed her interaction with Snowdrop, she had not quite overcome her inhibitions about her riding lessons. She hoped that a few more visits to the stables with some sugar would help her get better acquainted with the mare. Poseidon had been waiting for nearly six months; an additional six days would make little difference; she reasoned expediently.
Yesterday they had gone to Bond Street in quest of matching shoes, bonnets, reticules, and other accessories for the prodigal numbers of dresses they had ordered the day before. Flitting from store to store, they bought or commissioned all that was required, with Elizabeth heroically trying not to fret about the expense.
And I thought Mama was extravagant!
Elizabeth sighed once more and rolled on to her side, drawing the counterpane up to her chin. While her body rested, her mind continued to wander.
∞∞∞
Although the preceding two days had gone by almost in a haze, some things did leave a lasting impression on Elizabeth’s consciousness. The first was the realisation that, despite being entirely busy, she still had time to miss her husband. She had missed his proximity, his quiet humour, and those captivating golden flecks in his eyes. For her, the highlight of the very tiring two days had been dinnertime when he had been with them. Even something as ordinary as discussing their respective days had pleased her more than the thrill of acquiring a lovely gown or an enchanting bonnet. As a result, she was forced to admit that, in a very short time, she had grown to like her husband and his company exceedingly well.
Another incident that left an indelible mark on her mind, for a variety of reasons, was her first brush with the tabbies of the ton in Madame Blanchet’s store. Two well-dressed matrons entered the boutique just as their party was about to leave. Even if they had not talked to the ladies, Elizabeth would still have remembered the encounter. It was the first time she had seen the sophisticated and forever-in-control Countess of Matlock appear out of countenance when one of the ladies stopped to address her.
“Very well met, Susan. We have been meaning to talk to you ever since we heard that Darcy was back in town with his mysterious bride,” the stouter of the two matrons said in a mock whisper, glancing at their group with interest.
“Ah, yes. In fact…” Lady Matlock began, but the stout matron continued enthusiastically.
“You must have seen her already, given how close he is to you. Tell us, is she the most beautiful and accomplished creature alive? She must be. After all, Darcy let go the opportunity to marry Lady Serena in order to wed her. And so, I told Penny. Why else would he give up on such a beneficial match? Why else would he marry a country no...”
“Why else would he marry anyone but for love, Amanda?” This time, Lady Matlock cut off the stout lady quite ruthlessly. “And please, allow me to introduce you to Mrs Elizabeth Darcy.”
The other woman appeared disconcerted as Lady Matlock continued, “Elizabeth, this is Amanda Merrill, the Countess of Bakerfield, and Amanda, this is my new niece, Elizabeth Darcy.”
Despite the tumult caused by Lady Bakerfield’s artless revelations, Elizabeth managed to curtsey with an outwardly serene expression, which was tested the very next minute.
“Astounding!” The sharp exclamation came from Lady Bakerfield’s companion, who had hitherto listened silently. Involuntarily, Elizabeth’s gaze swivelled towards the speaker, and she was disconcerted to find herself being observed minutely through a lorgnette. The woman, it appeared, had not finished speaking. “You are correct, Susan; it has to be love because only loue is blynd alday and may nat see,” she quoted with a mocking smile.
There were collective gasps in response, and Elizabeth flushed deeply at the not-so-subtle slight. Lady Matlock’s visage darkened, but she managed to remark coolly enough, “And this lady here, spouting Chaucer needlessly, my dear Elizabeth, is Penelope Wyndham, Lady Lancaster.”
Even as Elizabeth curtsied, Lady Matlock addressed her daughter, “Emmaline, the carriage is at the door; why do you all not go and get seated? I will join you once I have invited Amanda and Penny to Darcy and Elizabeth’s wedding ball.
“Yes, Mama,” Emmaline muttered, and the three young ladies left quickly after perfunctory curtsies.
As soon as their carriage was on its way back, Lady Matlock turned to Elizabeth. “I think you must be wondering what all that was about.”
“I… yes, that is…” Elizabeth hesitated, not really knowing what to ask.
Lady Matlock let out a deep sigh before confessing, “I had hoped that the matter would stay between our two families, but since that is clearly not the case, I owe you an explanation. Lady Serena, who was mentioned just now, is the daughter of our family friends the Duke and Duchess of Avon, and Penny Wyndham is their cousin.”
Mr Darcy could have married the daughter of a duke if circumstances had not forced him to marry me. The thought disconcerted Elizabeth, as all of a sudden, the difference between their two stations started to appear like a huge gulf. Is…was he in love with Lady Serena? Did the rumours in Meryton make him give up on a dear wish? she wondered uneasily.
Unaware of her turmoil, Lady Matlock continued. “Lord Matlock was once lamenting in front of the duke about Lady Catherine’s harassment of Fitzwilliam. The duke then suggested a match between Fitzwilliam and his daughter as a solution. We were agreeable because we considered Serena a good match for him. Additionally, family ties between our families were of course, advantageous in more ways than one. ”
Elizabeth swallowed as she realised how difficult it must have been for Mr Darcy to convince his family about their marriage.
“Rather than telling Fitzwilliam directly, we arranged for him and Serena to get to know each other at dinners, balls, and the like. While your uncle remained hopeful of a match, I realised that Fitzwilliam was not interested after two or three such meetings.”
“Oh.” The relief in that monosyllable must have been palpable because Lady Matlock smiled faintly before continuing, “Especially when I had to force him to take Serena for a drive in Hyde Park, and he was more worried about the presence of the chaperoning maid than hers!”
All of them chuckled at Lady Matlock’s acerbic words and her comical expression.
“You cannot really blame poor Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana gasped, once she had her giggles under control. “He has become overly cautious ever since one of my friends at the seminary tried to play a trick on him.”
“I do not know anything about this! What happened?” Emmaline asked curiously.
“That young lady and I shared a chamber in the seminary. Once, when Fitzwilliam came to meet me, the warden sent a message up to our room saying that he was waiting for me in his carriage in the courtyard. Instead of passing the message to me, Sa… my friend went to meet Fitzwilliam on her own. She was not one bit afraid to tell him that I had sent her in my stead because I was not feeling well!”
“Good Lord!” Emmaline exclaimed as Elizabeth and Lady Matlock stared at Georgiana open-mouthed.
“I think my mind embellished it a little, but at that time I believed that I could hear Fitzwilliam’s bellow from the courtyard right up to my chamber,” Georgiana added with a grimace.
“Poor Darcy! No wonder he has grown so wary over the years!” Emmaline muttered.
By tacit agreement, they had spent the remainder of the ride home discussing the purchases and the preparations for the forthcoming ball at Matlock House.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth snapped out of her reverie when she heard a knock on her door.
“Come in!” she called out.
In response, Sarah entered the chamber carrying a large packet and a hat box.
“‘Morning, Miss Lizzy, Mr Darcy has sent this for you. You are to go to him as soon as you are ready. He is waiting for you downstairs,” Sarah said, offering the package to her.
“What is this, did he say?” Elizabeth asked, puzzled.
“No, he didn’t, but it feels like a dress.”
“Dress!” Elizabeth exclaimed as she hurriedly tore open the package. A note fell to the floor as she removed the lovely navy blue… riding habit!
How did he get it made without my knowledge? she wondered as she leaned down to pick up the note. When she flipped it open, she saw his bold handwriting, as expected.
You will be wondering how I got this made. It is fairly simple, Elizabeth. Georgie provided me with the address of the modiste who created your trousseau. I hope you like it because I am convinced that you would look absolutely delightful in this colour. Not that you do not always look delightful!
F
Elizabeth realised she was smiling as she folded the note and placed it on a table. “Who knew he would turn out to be such a flatterer?” she mumbled as she spread the dress on her bed.
“How pretty!” Sarah exclaimed as she stared at the delicious blue creation.
It was indeed lovely, especially the jacket, which was embellished with grey silk embroidery. The skirt was plain, and while in appearance it looked exactly like the ones her sisters had, Elizabeth was surprised to see that it had divisions for either leg. However, one could not tell just by looking at it.
She wondered curiously why the skirt was like flared breeches, even as Sarah hurried forward to help her dress.
∞∞∞
As the final step of her toilette, Elizabeth placed the tall hat on her head at a rakish angle and examined herself in the mirror. The riding habit was lovely, and it fit her perfectly. It astounded her all over again that her husband had taken the trouble of finding the modiste she had used before their wedding and had commissioned a riding habit that she could not have bettered if she had chosen it herself. She did not know whether to be amused at the devious manner in which he had gone behind her back or annoyed by his persistence to ensure that her riding lessons started as early as possible.
She did not realise it then, but the conflicting emotions made her forget her apprehension of the lesson that was coming in a very short while.
Well, you did promise him that you were ready to start your lessons at his convenience, Lizzy. Elizabeth sighed; she really had no argument against the truth. With a smile of thanks at Sarah, she left her room to meet Mr Darcy, checking the pocket of her skirt for the sugar meant for Snowdrop.
She saw her husband waiting at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at her with admiration.
“It looks very well on you, Elizabeth, just as I had envisaged,” he said in a tone in which appreciation was mixed with just a hint of smugness.
Elizabeth flushed at the frank admiration in his eyes. “Yes, it does fit perfectly,” she responded obliquely, providing him with a ready excuse to study her person more thoroughly.
“So it does,” he murmured in a voice that came out huskier than before. “Shall we go?” He asked, offering her his arm. Although she had been hoping for something to eat before they left, she nodded and placed her hand on his arm.
As they emerged from the main door, she noticed the carriage waiting for them. “Where are we going?” she asked, as he directed them towards it.
“Hyde Park,” he replied succinctly as he handed her into the carriage, and then followed her swiftly.
Just as the carriage lurched forward, Elizabeth felt the first pang of apprehension hit her. What if, in spite of all her gentleness, Snowdrop tries to throw me? People say that animals can sense fear, and they respond accordingly.… She bit her lip anxiously at the troubling thought.
“Here, eat this, Elizabeth, and do not worry; you will do very well. Do not forget that you have the kingdom’s best riding instructor with you.”
Elizabeth blinked at the warm roll, partially wrapped in a serviette, that he was offering her. She had been so busy being anxious that she had not noticed that there was a small wicker basket sitting next to him in the opposite seat. Even now, her mind was so preoccupied that she failed to register that her husband had ordered her favourite roll and got it buttered just the way she liked.
She raised her hand absentmindedly and took the proffered roll before focusing on the amusement dancing in his eyes.
A wave of irritation swept over her. I am worried out of my wits, and he is feeling amused by the whole thing!
Annoyance made her forget that earlier she had adamantly denied any fear of horses or horse riding. “Ha, it is easy for you to say so, Mr Darcy. You are a man who wears comfortable clothing and sits astride his horse. How would you know how precarious it feels to ride side-saddle, while wearing a voluminous riding habit?” she asked tartly before taking a bite of the roll in her hand. The delicious taste immediately soothed her aggrieved senses.
“Oh, but I do.”
“Whad do you mean?” she stopped chewing to enquire.
“I meant that I know what it is to ride side-saddle. Of course, I did not wear a riding habit, but… yes, I know how it feels.”
Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment. “You are joking.”
“No, I am not. You are not the only Darcy woman to fear riding side-saddle,” he said before putting the last bit of the muffin he had been eating in his mouth.
Elizabeth raised her brow, waiting patiently for him to explain further and he did so once he finished swallowing.
“For all Georgie’s love for horses and horse riding now, she was frightened when I began teaching her. Sitting sideways made her uncomfortable, and she insisted that she would learn only if she could sit on her pony astride, just like I did on my horse.”
“Oh! How old was she?” Elizabeth asked, fascinated.
Darcy smiled reminiscently. “She had just turned five.”
“Ah. And how old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Hmm. So, how did you break the deadlock?”
“By demonstrating that I could also ride side-saddle,” Darcy replied with a wry look.
“Oh, my!” Elizabeth chuckled even as her mind conjured up a comical image of a much younger, gangly Mr Darcy sitting sideways on a large horse. “And when she saw that you could ride side-saddle, she agreed to her lessons?” she asked once she had her amusement under control.
“Umm, not precisely. For three days, both of us rode side-saddle on our respective horses. To be honest, I wanted to learn its nitty-gritties in order to make the ride safer for her.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth’s expression softened, and for a while she sat gazing at him admiringly. “So, it took you three days to convince Georgie,” she said finally.
“Actually, we both had to make some concessions.”
“I would never have believed that a five-year-old Georgie could drive such a hard bargain!”
“You do not know her very well, then, madam. I had to agree that she would learn to ride side-saddle if I would also teach her to ride astride.”
“You agreed to such a stipulation?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.
“Yes. To be fair, I could understand her objections once I had ridden side-saddle myself.”
“Hmm.”
“So as per our pact, Georgie could ride astride in and around Pemberley if she decorously rode side-saddle elsewhere. And she faithfully does so, even now.”
“Oh… oh… so that is why my riding habit has a divided skirt.”
“Yes.” Darcy smiled at her appreciatively.
Elizabeth stared at his smiling face then at the half-eaten roll in her hand. After a while, she said with a meditative smile, “You know you are just like an oyster.”
She smiled at his befuddled expression and popped the remaining roll in her mouth.
After a while, Darcy repeated in bemusement, “O-oyster?”
“Yes, an oyster…” Before she could explain further, the carriage came to a halt, and a footman jumped down to open the door. Mr Darcy assisted her down from the carriage.
Elizabeth glanced around her. It seemed she was going to receive the second riding lesson of her life on Rotten Row. Thankfully, it appeared empty at this time of the morning—almost empty—she corrected herself as she noticed a rider riding away from them in the distance.
“So, what did you mean by an oyster?” Darcy persisted.
“Well… you, Mr Darcy, are like an oyster—hard and a little rough on the outside but, oh, so tender at its core.”
Darcy flushed at the warm, appreciative look in her eyes, but his lips turned up in an involuntary smile at the singular compliment.
“An oyster who blushes like a schoolboy when he is complimented,” Elizabeth added sotto voce.
Darcy’s flush deepened. “What rubbish! Have you never seen the effect of harsh, chill winds on human skin?”
“Of course. I beg pardon for my mistake.” Elizabeth tried to keep her voice from shaking, but she was not very successful.
Darcy noticed the amusement flickering in her eyes and enquired with a hint of irritation. “Have you ever been told that you can be very annoying sometimes?”
“Oh, yes, many times, by the very person who found you so odious.”
Darcy grimaced at the reference to Mrs Bennet. “Even a broken clock shows the correct time twice a day,” he said repressively, and was surprised when his wife burst out laughing.
“You are impossible,” he muttered, although her infectious laugh caused his lips to curve up once more.
“Come along now; we should get your lesson over with before the park starts teeming with people,” he said as he motioned towards a couple of grooms standing under a tree with Snowdrop.
“Where is Poseidon?”
“He was not needed today, as I will not be riding along with you.”
“Poor Poseidon, he has to wait some more to begin his courtship.”
“Oh, he has a lot of patience,” Darcy replied, adding under his breath, “Just like his master.”
“But why are you not riding?”
“You have not ridden in a decade. So, today, I just want to assess where we are.” He glanced at her askance with a grin and added, “So that I can share with you the essence of all that I learned in those three days on a side-saddle.”
“I cannot wait,” Elizabeth said wryly, even as she stared at Snowdrop with some consternation.
“Do not worry, Elizabeth; by the time this lesson is over, you will be laughing at your fears. Come,” he said as he held out his hand to her, and Elizabeth took a deep, determined breath before laying hers on it.
As the lesson progressed, she had to marvel at her husband’s patience. Just as he had promised, he observed minutely and guided her through the smallest of things. He helped her with the correct posture to balance her weight so as not to discomfort the mare. He showed her how to keep both reins at the same length and tension, and he explained how to effectively use leg muscles to give commands to the horse. Fortunately, Snowdrop also chose to respond beautifully to her rider, and by the time her first riding lesson came to an end, Elizabeth felt reasonably certain of the success of any future ones.
“That is all for today, and you did very well, Elizabeth.” Darcy smiled appreciatively as he approached her to help her dismount.
She looked at his smiling face and his lean, handsome figure as he raised his arms to lift her down from Snowdrop, and all of a sudden, her heart hammered sharply against her ribs.
“Oh!” she gasped softly as her body slid past his on its way to the ground. I am getting infatuated with my own husband! She chuckled nervously at how swiftly her feelings were undergoing a change. Suddenly, she felt his arms tighten around her.
“Why do you laugh?” he asked gruffly.
That I am hanging six inches above the ground must be the reason for my dizziness, she concluded before dissembling, “Umm… nothing. I have just decided that I agree with Georgie’s assessment of your teaching abilities.”
“I told you so myself, Elizabeth, but then the world is full of doubting Thomases,” he murmured laughingly in her ear before gently lowering her to the ground.
He cleared his throat as he offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Elizabeth found it easier to nod as she placed her hand on his arm.