Chapter 21
Chapter 21
The next morning, when they rode to Hyde Park for Elizabeth’s riding lesson, Darcy noticed that she appeared a little pensive as she sat looking out of the carriage window. Perhaps she isstill distressed about what happened yesterday.
When they reached Rotten Row and she continued to be preoccupied, he tried to cheer her up. “I believe Poseidon is finally making some progress with our Snowdrop,” he said, pointing towards the tree under which the grooms were preparing both horses for the upcoming ride.
They walked towards the horses, and Elizabeth observed them closely. After a while, she turned her head to smile at Darcy. “I do believe you are right, sir. There is a distinct sign of thawing. It is the first time I have seen that Snowdrop did not turn her head away when Poseidon pranced next to her, and, although I cannot be certain, I think I even heard a soft whinny moments ago.
Darcy grinned in return. “Good! So, there is hope yet for our lovelorn hero,” he said as he patted Poseidon on the neck before offering him some sugar.
Elizabeth did the same to Snowdrop before mounting the mare with her husband’s help. They were off as soon as Darcy came to her side on Poseidon. In the month gone by, not only had Elizabeth lost her fear of horses, but she had also become quite a proficient rider. So, now Darcy could ride beside her without worrying too much about her safety.
When they were riding past a clump of trees, there was a sudden, sharp sound, and the birds on the trees flew away with raucous cries. It took Darcy a split second to realise that some fool had discharged a rifle at what they considered fair game on one of the trees, and another to realise that Snowdrop did not take too kindly to sudden loud noises. His heart jumped to his throat as he saw the mare bolting away and, atop her, his wife desperately but ineffectually trying to stop her. The next moment, he was chasing after them.
The less than five minutes it took Darcy to catch up with Elizabeth and lift her on to Poseidon were some of the longest of his life. He had no recollection of bringing his horse to a halt or dismounting him. He was only vaguely aware that one of the grooms had finally caught up with Snowdrop and was comforting her. All his senses were focused on the shaking woman in his arms.
“Elizabeth,” he muttered roughly as he tightened his arms around her. “Lord, I have never been so scared in my life,” he mumbled, raining kisses on the top of her head, even as Elizabeth burrowed herself more firmly against him. Slowly, the tremors racking her body reduced in intensity, and he lifted her face up to his.
“Are you hurt anywhere, my dear?”
“N-No… I do not think so.” She shook her head.
“Mr Darcy?”
“Yes?”
“Th-Thank you f-for saving me.” She looked up at him, her eyes huge with remembered fear.
“Elizabeth!” he groaned huskily, then bent to cover her lips with his own in an open-mouthed, hungry kiss. He did not know if he was seeking comfort or offering it, but one thing was certain: unlike the previous two times when they had kissed, he was no longer in control over his fevered senses.
Elizabeth gasped as she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips, and her parted lips allowed him the access he so desperately sought. She had never imagined that a kiss could be like this—lush, warm, and all-consuming. It even made her forget about her accident from a few minutes ago. She felt as though he was drawing a small part of her soul with each caress of his velvety tongue, binding it to himself with invisible threads that would never untangle. And with a soft moan, she pressed herself against him.
It was not until he lifted his lips from hers to leave a fiery trail of kisses to her throat that Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw her own hands buried in his hair, pressing his face against her neck that she had arched to give better access to his wandering lips. She had no recollection of doing any of this! All of a sudden, she felt terrified of the power her husband appeared to enjoy over her heart and her body. An image of a weeping Minerva and her own insecurities and doubts from yesterday came rushing back in her consciousness, almost suffocating her with their intensity. And a mindless desire to protect herself from this all too pleasurable assault Fitzwilliam had unleashed on her made her push at him frantically.
“Stop, Mr Darcy. What are you doing? Stop, I say.”
“Wh-What happened, Elizabeth?” Darcy lifted his head and stared at her, his mind befuddled with desire and confusion.
“Y-You had promised me that you would wait until I told you my feelings had changed sufficiently. But here you are, f-forcing your attentions on me! You claim to be a gentleman but are behaving only like a m-man...” Elizabeth’s voice wobbled as she saw the sudden, cold anger in his eyes.
It struck her immediately that her fear had made her not only unfair but rather cruel. Unfortunately, there was no way to unsay her foolish words. The next best thing was to apologise. “I… I am…” she began, but he interrupted her swiftly.
“You have said enough, madam. I have to beg your pardon; I did not comprehend that I was forcing my attentions on you.” In petrified silence, Elizabeth stared into his completely dark eyes. There was not even a single fleck of gold in them, and she shivered at their coldness.
“However, let me now set your mind at rest. I promise you, from this moment onwards, I will not lay a finger on you unless you ask me to,” he added grimly.
“N-No… I…” she began with some intention of explaining, but he had already turned away to address one of the grooms.
“Please get the carriage here, Sam, so that Mrs Darcy can go home at the earliest. And Snowdrop appears to be still agitated; I will be riding her home.”
∞∞∞
Half an hour later, Elizabeth was in bed, being examined by a physician, Dr Thomas. Mrs Higgins and Sarah were hovering nearby.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Mrs Darcy, that a day’s good rest would not cure. I will leave some laudanum to help you get some sleep. Take a few drops as soon as I leave,” he said, and after leaving a small bottle with Mrs Higgins with the requisite instructions, he started towards the door.
Elizabeth followed his progress with her eyes, and through the open doorway, she saw him speaking with her husband. When the two men walked away, she took the medicine that Mrs Higgins was offering and closed her eyes, not knowing that this would be her last glimpse of her husband for weeks to come.
When she woke up, she saw Georgiana sitting on a chair by her side and reading a book. She looked up when Elizabeth moved one of her hands. “Oh, you are awake! How are you feeling, Elizabeth? You gave me quite a scare when I got up this morning only to be told that you had suffered an accident and that the doctor had come to examine you.”
“I am quite well, Georgie. Please do not worry. Nothing happened to me because Mr Darcy saved me before I came to any harm.” Another wave of shame and misery hit Elizabeth as she realised anew how much she must have hurt her husband when all he had done was to save her from grievous harm.
“I-Is Mr Darcy at home?”
“Ah, no. Brother went out immediately after the doctor’s visit. He said he had to visit Uncle Matlock.”
“Oh.”
Before any further talk could take place, a maid brought in some broth for Elizabeth. Although she felt as if even a spoonful would choke her, she made herself eat a few mouthfuls so as not to worry Georgiana. The effect of laudanum had still not worn off, and she went to sleep once again after finishing her broth.
When she woke up next, it was clear that it was nighttime, and now it was Sarah who was nodding off on the chair by her bed. Elizabeth could barely make out the needles of the clock, but it seemed it was one o’clock. All the sleep and the medication seemed to make her dizzy. So, she woke Sarah up and asked her for help visiting the chamber pot before lying down again. She was feeling wretched and lonely and sleep this time was a long time in coming. She spent the time framing and discarding the apology she would give her husband.
It no longer mattered if he loved her or not. It also did not matter if there were chances of him falling in love with someone else in the future. What mattered was that she should apologise for her lie and clarify that his attentions had not been forced. In fact, she had wanted them just a tad too much for her own comfort.
∞∞∞
When Elizabeth came hurrying down for breakfast the next morning, the dining room was empty.
She noticed Mr Higgins in the hallway. “Has Mr Darcy not come down yet, Mr Higgins?”
“Oh, no, Mrs Darcy, he has already left, and he gave me this letter for you,” Higgins replied and offered her a sealed letter.
“Thank you, Mr Higgins,” she said quietly as she took the proffered letter. It took every ounce of her strength to not let her shock be visible on her face. She thought she was successful when Mr Higgins smiled at her in his usual gracious manner and left.
Elizabeth went out to the garden and broke the seal with a shaking hand. As her eyes fell on the salutation, her mouth dried up.
Madam,
As you are aware, Lord Matlock is leaving for Rosings today for the formalities of transference of the estate to Anne. I believe that my presence would be useful there, so I have decided to accompany my uncle.
The day after the morrow, Sebastian and his family are travelling back to his estate in Derbyshire, and he has gladly agreed to escort you and Georgiana to Pemberley on his way. At this moment, I do not know how much time we would need to spend in Rosings, and so I am unable to update you on my plans for the future.
Sincerely,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Elizabeth pressed her fist to her mouth to prevent herself from crying out aloud, although hot tears still spilled from her eyes onto her hand. She could not believe that this cold, indifferent missive was written by the same laughing man who had jested with her yesterday morning about Poseidon’s courting, the man who had kissed her with such passion…
And instead of thanking him for saving your life, you threw his passion back at his face with such cruelty!
“I was scared…. I-I would have apologised most profusely if only he had given me a chance,” she mumbled, but this time there was no response from her inner voice.
“Oh, Lord! What have I done?” she said fearfully, not knowing with whom to share the catastrophe she had forced upon herself.
“Aunt Madeline!” she whispered finally.
∞∞∞
By now they had been in Rosings for more than a se’nnight, and all Darcy had done with his time was to sit with Parker, the new steward of Rosings, every morning, intermittently watch his uncle trying to talk some sense into his sister, imbibe a lot more than he was used to—to dull that ever-present pain—and for the rest of the time brood resentfully.
The Rosings library had become his refuge, and once Parker left, he found himself closeted there every day. He would sit on the chair by the window, any tome that he had aimlessly picked up that day open on his lap, and nurse a drink. Unfortunately, he only had to close his eyes, and there she would be, shaking with anger or perhaps fright, her dark eyes flashing with some undecipherable emotion, always berating him. Subconsciously, his mind seemed to have blocked everything pleasant about that interaction and their time together. All his remembrances started with her pushing him away from her angrily.
It was difficult to bear those images and his eyes would spring open very shortly after his recollections started. His pain and resentment would then slowly start trickling out. How dare she accuse him of forcing his attentions on her and not being a gentleman? Did she not realise that he did nothave to wait to exercise his marital rights? He was well aware that most of his friends and acquaintances would not have done so. But he had never fashioned his principles and actions based on how others thought and acted. He did what his conscience told him to. That was the reason he had chosen to court her before taking her to bed. And what had he received in lieu of his restraint and consideration? Insults, abuse, unfair accusations, and rebuffs!
Each time he recollected her angry words ripping at him for not keeping his promise, his heart splintered a little bit more, and his resentment grew another notch. By the time the week came to an end on his stay at Rosings, he had convinced himself that he needed some time away from Elizabeth. He could not live with a person who doubted his integrity, whose dislike of him seemed to grow despite all his efforts to the contrary.
Today, as he sat in the library, absentmindedly observing his uncle Harry gesticulating urgently to Lady Catherine and Anne in the garden outside, he decided that it was now time to come up with the modalities of his separation with Elizabeth. For a while, he pondered offering her the choice to go back to Longbourn. But his heart revolted against such a blatant declaration to the world of his failed aspirations and broken marriage. No, Longbourn was not an option, he resolved, as he shifted restlessly in his seat.
Elizabeth should already be in Pemberley; Sebastian sent a message when they had begun their journey. If, under some pretext, I stay in London for a few months, I will get a breather and I can then make a final decision when I am in a better frame of mind.
He had just come to this conclusion when his uncle entered the library.
“Is everything well with you, Darcy?” he asked without preamble.
“Of course, sir. Why do you ask?”
“Well, for one, ever since you came here, you have been imbibing more than I have ever seen you do.”
“Aunt Catherine’s harangues are enough to drive anyone to drink. I can only salute your fortitude that she has not reduced you to such a state.”
Lord Matlock’s lips lifted in a faint smile at the jest, even as he continued to gaze searchingly at his nephew. “Although I have rarely seen you very exuberant, ever since your marriage, I believe you had been smiling more frequently. Now you seem back to your dull ways.” Lord Matlock pursued his own line of thought.
“It is nothing, Uncle Harry. I have just been wondering how Elizabeth has adjusted to Pemberley, especially as I was not there to introduce her to everyone and everything.” The lie tasted bitter on his lips, but Darcy found he could not tell the truth to any living soul.
“Hmm.” Although the earl did not appear very satisfied with the explanation, he let the matter drop.
“How is Parker shaping up?”
“He now knows everything that he should, and I believe he will do.”
“Good. Then I believe our work is done here, and we can leave tomorrow.
“You mean…”
“I mean that Cathy and Anne have come to a sort of understanding. Anne has had her say, and she has finally revealed what she wants. And I have also been able to impress on my sister’s thick head that her daughter is an adult who should be allowed to make her own decisions and her own mistakes. If things do not work out, there is always the threat of shifting Cathy to the dower house. I have asked Parker to see to its renovation.”
“I am glad that is settled. Honestly, I was not very confident that even the threat of the dower house would work on Lady Catherine.”
“Well, it was not really the threat that worked; rather, it was Anne’s honest revelation of her frustrations that did the trick. As I always say, there would be much less angst and confrontations all around if only people had honest conversations among themselves.”
“Hmm.” Darcy mumbled. He had the oddest feeling that his uncle was no longer talking about Lady Catherine and Anne.
∞∞∞
To Darcy’s surprise and chagrin, as soon as he stepped into Darcy House, all his plans to initiate a separation with Elizabeth slowly began to fade like snow on a bright, sunny day. He could not understand how the beautiful home he had inhabited on his own for so many years while Georgiana was at Pemberley or at her seminary could suddenly feel so empty and lifeless.
Except for his own bedchamber, each and every room he entered reminded him of Elizabeth and the warmth she brought into their lives. For every room, he had a memory of how she had made him smile with happiness or laugh in amusement. More surprisingly, there were enough memories of him teasing her, and her beautiful face breaking out in a playful smile.
He had never been a very light-hearted person given much to teasing and laughter. Before Elizabeth, most of his experiences with jests and teasing had been him being on the receiving end of Richard’s or Sebastian’s facetious comments. She had changed all that when she came into his heart, his life, and his home. She had a lightness of being that also rubbed off on him. And today, each of these rooms was bringing that fact forcibly to his attention.
The worst was his study, where he was sitting at the moment. Wherever he looked, he could see her in his mind’s eye and feel her presence with every thrum of his heart. As he sat staring at the settee by the window, he remembered how ingeniously she had devised the story of Miss Smith to help Emmaline. Or how bravely she had confronted him about Wickham, standing right here beside his desk. He groaned as memories kept washing over him relentlessly, like oncoming waves on a beach at high tide.
He stared out at the garden, feeling helpless. How could he revile a woman who had been nothing but kind to every member of his family? One of the reasons he fell in love with her was her kindness, and from the moment she joined her name with his, she generously extended her concern and empathy to all those connected with that name. Hesighed and rubbed his face with his hands in defeat—he could not let her go.
But she repulsed you when you went to her with your love, the voice of reason pointed out cautiously, and for the first time since that awful morning, Darcy allowed himself to remember the entire tormenting experience.
He rested his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. Images after images flitted through his mind, akin to a theatrical performance. He heard the sound of the gunshot once again and felt all the horror as he saw Snowdrop rush past Poseidon. Adrenalin rushed through his veins when he saw himself dashing madly behind Snowdrop. The sudden relief of catching up with Elizabeth and lifting her trembling body into his arms slowed his breathing. Desire tightened his body as he felt her lips part under his to allow access to his seeking tongue, her body pressing against his, and her fingers running circles through his hair….
His eyes sprang open in shock as he remembered something he had allowed his bitter thoughts to block. Elizabeth had kissed him back as ardently as he had kissed her! It was only later that she had pushed him away with such cruel words, but… why? he wondered anxiously.
Did I scare her away with my intensity? Or is she uncomfortable with intimacy for some reason? he thought as he remembered her bitter words about women being expected to submit to their husbands on the day he proposed to her.
As he sat pondering the matter, one thing he knew with certainty was that he would have to discover the reason why she had pushed him away and find a solution to whatever the problem was.
He already had some engagements for the next two days that he could not get out of, but on the third day he would be travelling back to Pemberley.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth put away the clean brushes and stared at the canvas while wiping her hands on the cleaning rag. The painting was finally complete, to her satisfaction. It had taken her nearly a fortnight to finish it, mostly because she could work only a few hours at night but also because, in the initial few days, her eyes often blurred with tears whenever she started to sketch. She had had to give herself a good talking to before she could start working in earnest. She had never been the weepy, pitiable sort of young woman. Unfortunately, her stupid actions and their consequences had brought her to such a pass that she was afraid whether the man she loved—her husband—would ever forgive her.
She sighed and lightly traced her now clean fingers on the dark hair—the only completely dry portion on the canvas at the moment. Painting his portrait had been the one thing that let her keep her sanity and present a serene face to others at Pemberley.
The likeness was exceptional, and she did not have to look at the miniature that she had been using for reference to say so. Fitzwilliam and his image were forever present in her consciousness. She had only to close her eyes, and he was there. Unfortunately, the warm and charming man who had been her constant companion since her wedding morphed into the cold-eyed stranger from Hyde Park moments after she closed her eyes.
Elizabeth sighed once again and went out to the drawing room to put the miniature back in its place. By tomorrow, she would also be able to remove the painting from the easel and keep it safe inside the ornate chest in the mistress’s personal sitting room—the room she had been using for her painting activity.
She was not very certain why she was taking so much trouble to hide it from everyone that she was painting a portrait of her husband. Mostly, it was an odd combination of embarrassment and possessiveness that made her want to keep the portrait and the intelligence to herself.
Even the most beautiful, welcoming thing can change into an eerie, scary entity, she thought nervously as she hurried back to her room through the dark corridors—the fuzzy shadows thrown by the light of her candle flickering menacingly.
∞∞∞
The relief of safely making it to her chamber and bed was short-lived. The ever-lingering restlessness and regrets closed in on her as she lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of a single candle. Despite her tiredness, sleep was miles away from her. She punched her pillow into shape and turned on her side, trying to blank out her thoughts, but the memories came flooding in as usual.
The long journey to Pemberley that she and Georgiana had undertaken with the Viscount and Jennifer had seemed longer because of her misery. The fact that she was quieter and sadder than usual had been taken by her companions as a sign of her missing her husband.
“Brother will be back before you have even had time to explore less than half the rooms in Pemberley, Elizabeth,” Georgiana had said comfortingly more than once during the journey.
Elizabeth had never thought she would set foot in Pemberley without her husband by her side. Her breath hitched when she got her first glimpse of the beautiful limestone mansion, surrounded by sprawling gardens and woodlands beyond. Sebastian had asked the coachman to stop the carriage on a bridge over a fast-flowing river stream.
“Look, Elizabeth, that is your new home. It appears to its best advantage from here.”
“It is magnificent,” was all she had been able to say in an awed voice. The wish that it was Fitzwilliam introducing her to Pemberley had been piercing in its intensity.
The viscount and his family stayed only one night in Pemberley before travelling home to their own estate. In her brother’s absence, Georgiana, the dear girl that she was, had undertaken the responsibility of making all the staff and servants known to Elizabeth. Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper at Pemberley, was a motherly woman, portly in her appearance. She was eager to show Elizabeth around the mansion and explain to her the workings of the great house. Georgiana was equally eager to help Elizabeth get acquainted with life at her new home. A grateful Elizabeth tried to be enthusiastic for Georgiana’s sake, but her heart was not into it.
The few things that gave her solace were visiting the portrait gallery and the greenhouse, painting Fitzwilliam’s portrait, and taking long walks in the numerous gardens of Pemberley, walks during which she pondered how she could make things right between her and Fitzwilliam.
When nearly ten days had passed without any communication from him, she started wondering if she should apologise to him in a letter. But the fact that she did not know where he was and her inability to explain her foolish and cruel conduct on paper made her desist. The fear that she might have alienated him forever kept occurring to her every once in a while, and it was only Aunt Gardiner’s sage advice that made her keep up hope.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth turned to her other side, recalling her conversation with her aunt for the thousandth time. Yes, she had finally gone to see her aunt Gardiner within an hour of receiving Fitzwilliam’s icy letter informing his plan to visit Rosings with his uncle.
As soon as she saw Elizabeth in the doorway of her parlour, Aunt Gardiner had come forward with a pleased smile. “Elizabeth! How good to…. I-Is something the matter, my dear?” she had asked in a concerned voice, and to Elizabeth’s horror, tears had started slipping from her eyes.
“Elizabeth.” Her aunt had enfolded her in her arms and led her to a sofa. She held Elizabeth tightly to her until the storm of weeping subsided. Then, after offering her a glass of water, she asked, “Now tell me what has happened?”
And Elizabeth had found herself telling her aunt almost everything from the moment Fitzwilliam had come to her rescue that long ago day in Meryton. That was another matter that in her agitation and grief, a lot of it came out disjointed and incoherent.
For a few moments after Elizabeth had stopped telling her tale, her aunt sat in silence.
“Your husband decided to court you… so that you get to know each other before he exercised his… er… husbandly rights.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“He did not have to do so, Elizabeth, do you know that?”
Elizabeth nodded once again, her misery apparent on her face.
“And yet he did. He asked you to let him know when you felt more for him than gratitude. So why did you not tell him when you discovered you had fallen in love with him?”
“Because I wanted him to love me t-too…” Elizabeth’s voice faltered at her aunt’s expression.
“Hmm. And how did you go from wanting your husband to fall in love with you to accusing him of not being a gentleman?”
Elizabeth blushed furiously. “When you ask like that, I am unable to comprehend how I could have been such a fool. But the truth is just that I-I saw how much Minerva was hurting because of her husband’s inconstancy… a-all because she was so deeply in love. And… and when Fitzwilliam kissed me… I felt… I felt… oh, Aunt Madeline, I cannot tell you how he made me feel. I suppose I would have happily jumped off a cliff if he had asked me to at that moment… and then as I stood there in his arms in a blissful haze, I suddenly felt scared of the power he had over me, and I... and I remembered all those women… and…”
“Wait, Elizabeth. I no longer know what you are talking about. What women?”
“The ones who keep throwing themselves at him, the likes of Lady Stalbridge and Mrs Lawson!”
Mrs Gardiner could clearly hear the jealousy in her niece’s voice, and she hurriedly suppressed a smile. “And what does your husband do when they do so?”
“H-He rebuffs them.”
“Then I do not understand what your problem is, Elizabeth.” This time Mrs Gardiner could not keep the asperity from her voice.
Elizabeth hung her head at the frustration in her aunt’s voice, “I was worried if in future, he falls in love with someone else… someone good and kind and he regrets that he is tied to a woman he was forced to marry… then… then… if I fall anymore in love than I already am, h-how would I survive?”
The words came out disjointed, but not the pain and insecurity behind them. “Oh, Elizabeth, you poor, foolish girl.” Mrs Gardiner hugged her confused niece to her.
“There is no certainty in life, my dear, but we cannot blight our happiness by worrying about things that may never happen,” Mrs Gardiner said as she gently rubbed Elizabeth’s back.
“When we are born, we already know that one day we will die, yet we do not stop living, do we? So how can you stop yourself from loving your husband in fear of something which may never come to pass?”
Elizabeth could only shake her head. She had already realised that she had been exceedingly foolish.
“W-What should I do now?” she asked in a forlorn voice.
“Go to Pemberley as Mr Darcy asked you to, and whenever he joins you there, apologise to him with an open heart. I am certain he will soon forgive you when he realises why you behaved the way you did.”
“But, if he does not? I... I hurt him very much, aunt.”
“Hmm. In that case, be ready to struggle for what you want, if you believe your husband is worth it.”
“He is worth every struggle in the world.”
Mrs Gardiner smiled at the fierceness of her voice. “Then take a leaf out of his book, Elizabeth. He tried to court you when he believed you did not like him. This time you court him. Show him that you care for him, by your actions, instead of mere words.”
“How do you think I can do that?”
“I do not know that, dear girl. It is between you and your husband.” Mrs Gardiner thought for a moment then said thoughtfully, “Mayhap do things for him that he normally would not expect you to do. For instance, your uncle loves it when I bake his favourite cake. Perhaps you can do something similar? Anecdotal evidence suggests that a man whose palate is satisfied is infinitely more amenable.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly at the jest. “Hmm.”
“Once he is convinced that you care for him, I think everything should fall in place. From what I have seen and heard of him, your husband does care for you, though you may give it any name you want.”
Mrs Gardiner gave her a playful smile and added, “Your favourite has said, ‘What is in a name? That which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet.’”
Although Elizabeth appreciated the thought, she was worried about something else her husband had said in his anger. “H-He said he would not lay a finger on me unless I asked him to, but Aunt Madeline, I-I would be too embarrassed to do so.”
Mrs Gardiner’s eyebrow rose at the intelligence. “Well, my dear, a woman can ask a man to… er… lay a finger on her in more ways than one.”
∞∞∞
Elizabeth blushed all over again as she remembered her aunt’s advice. Then she sighed as her gaze fell on the nearly gutted candle, and she realised that it was nearly morning, and as was usual with her, she had not slept a wink.
She got up and lit a new candle from the old one in the candelabra. Then, after wrapping a shawl around her, she walked to a door in her room and opened it. As soon as she slipped inside the chamber that the open door had revealed, she felt a sense of calm steal over her.
Why do I stubbornly wait until the morning to come here when I know this is the only place I can seem to find rest?With a rueful shake of her head, she put the candle in the candelabra before slipping under the covers of the bed in the new room.
They changed the bedsheet today; the thought crossed her mind as she closed her eyes. A few moments later, she was soundly asleep in the very comfortable bed in the master’s chamber in Pemberley.
∞∞∞
It was in the afternoon of the very next day that Fitzwilliam Darcy finally returned to Pemberley, exactly eighteen days after he had left Darcy House in a fog of anger and hurt. He was returning with hope, uncertainty, and determination, fighting among themselves to gain control over his heart.
“Where is everybody?” Darcy asked the footman in Pemberley’s front hall.
“Mrs Darcy is in the red parlour, and Miss Darcy is in the music room.”
“Thank you, Sam.” With a nod, Darcy started making his way towards the red parlour. His heart gave an odd flip as he neared the open door of the parlour, and his steps slowed.
Sudden doubts assailed him, and the strong resolve with which he had covered the distance between London and Pemberley appeared to weaken. What if her incomprehensible behaviour is simply because she is unable to overcome her dislike of me?She might care for my family, but what if she finds she cannot love me, ever? What if she… spurns me yet again? His frantic musings increased his anxiety, and his feet slowly came to a halt in the doorway.
His gaze fell on his wife who sat on a sofa, reading a book. To be more accurate she sat staring absentmindedly at the chair opposite hers and a book remained open in her lap. Darcy took in her appearance hungrily and was disturbed to see that she looked thinner and her usually smiling lips were pursed giving her lovely countenance an anxious expression.
Even as he stood there, slowly taking in every aspect of her person, her maid Sarah came hurrying into the parlour from the French windows, and cried excitedly, “Mr Darcy’s carriage arrived a few minutes ago, Mrs Darcy.”
“Really, Sarah?” Elizabeth rose from her seat hastily, the forgotten book on her lap falling on the floor with a thud. Only a blind person would have missed the expression of pure joy that lit her face.
“Yes, Mrs Darcy.” A smiling Sarah placed the book she had picked up from the floor on a nearby table before quietly leaving the same way she had come into the room.
Darcy, however, had eyes only for his wife, who dashed to the gilt mirror above the fireplace and swiftly checked her appearance. As he stood watching in fascination, She tucked a loose curl behind her ears, and pinched her too pale cheeks to add some colour to them. Then all of sudden, her eyes widened a little, as if in response to a distressing recollection. She closed her eyes even as a tear rolled down her left cheek .
The shawl on her shoulder slipped as she swayed lightly on her feet—the green shawl he had presented to her last Christmas—and she caught hold of it in both her hands before burying her face in it.
“Oh, Fitzwilliam!”
The voice was muffled, and Darcy could barely make out the words, but fortunately for him, he did make them out.
He backed himself away from the door, waited a few heartbeats and then with a deliberate and loud clearing of his throat, he once again made his way towards the parlour.
∞∞∞
Darcy was very glad of what he had observed moments ago when he saw the wary, scared look on his wife’s face when he entered the parlour. He knew how he would have responded had this been his first glimpse of Elizabeth immediately after being plagued by doubts about her feelings for him.
“I seem to have very much surprised you by my sudden appearance, Elizabeth. It is understandable I suppose, when I did not communicate my plans at all while I was away,” he said with a pleasant smile.
A wide-eyed Elizabeth stared intently at him for a long moment, as if unable to believe that he was talking to her in a civil fashion. Then slowly her lips turned up in the beautiful smile he so adored. “I have to confess that your sudden appearance was a surprise, Mr Darcy.” Her smile widened some more. “But… a very pleasant surprise that I have waited for e-every day since I reached Pemberley, sitting in this very room and this very chair,” she said a little unsteadily.
Darcy swallowed as he sat looking at her flushed, smiling countenance. Completely forgetting that he had spent the last few weeks in pain, doubt, and helpless anger, he wanted to rush to her and lift her up in his arms.
Not yet, Darcy.Not until you figure out why she spurned you despite having feelings for you.You… cannot… take… the risk… of… a… repetition.
He sighed. “Well then, let me give you another pleasant surprise. Our visit to Rosings was quite fruitful.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, Uncle Harry made Lady Catherine and Anne have a long, candid conversation. And the long and the short of it is, Elizabeth, that my aunt has agreed to behave with more… ah… circumspection in future. That she has the threat of being shifted to the dower house in case of even one complaint by Anne might be a factor in this sudden desire to be amenable. However, I cannot deny that when we left Rosings, the atmosphere in the manor was quite the most pleasant I have experienced there in a very long time.”
“I am so glad for Anne.” Elizabeth smiled, before looking at him enquiringly. “Shall I call for tea, or would you first like to freshen up?”
“I am feeling a little parched, so, if you do not mind me sitting in your parlour…” Darcy paused for a heartbeat when Elizabeth rose from her seat. “…in all my dirt, I would prefer some tea first.” By the time he finished his sentence, Elizabeth had already rung the bell.
“How is Georgiana?”
“I am very well, Brother, as you can see for yourself!” Georgiana said as she came rushing into the room, directly to where her brother sat, for an exuberant hug.
The stark difference between Georgiana’s welcome to Fitzwilliam and her own pricked at Elizabeth’s heart, but when her eyes met his over his sister’s head, there was something compellingly comforting in them, and she found herself smiling despite her heartache.
“But I have a complaint against you, Fitzwilliam. Why did you not write to us, even once? You could not know how disappointed we were after the mail came daily without one from you,” Georgiana remarked before seating herself beside Elizabeth on the sofa.
“I am sorry, little one. I did not write as I had wanted to surprise you both; it is just that my stay stretched longer than I had earlier anticipated.”
“Hmm. But please do not do so again.”
Darcy smiled at his sister’s admonitory tone. “I am hoping that I would never need to stay away so long from you both in future.” Although Darcy was responding to his sister, his eyes remained on his wife.
Mrs Reynolds brought in tea before any further conversation could take place. Once she and the footman had left after serving tea, Georgiana addressed her brother once again. “Uncle Harry and Aunt Susan were planning to travel to Matlock, did they not ?”
“Yes, in fact they already should be there. They travelled early as Aunt Susan wanted to rest before joining in the festivities at Ashleigh Manor.”
“Oh, yes, for the twenty-fifth anniversary of Lord and Lady Ashleigh’s marriage!” Georgiana exclaimed.
“Hmm. That reminds me… Elizabeth, Lord Ashleigh was a very close friend of my father’s, and he has invited us all for the anniversary. I did not reply to him earlier as I was not sure if you would…”
“If he was such a close friend of your father’s, Fitzwilliam, then I believe we should all go.”
Darcy blinked at her use of his given name, then smiled. “Very well, I will write to Lord Ashleigh and confirm our participation.”
“Brother, I would like to go to Matlock from Ashleigh Manor, if that is all right?”
Darcy looked at her in surprise. “It is a very sudden plan, Georgie. Is there something special in the offing?”
The truth was Georgiana had seen how much Elizabeth had missed her brother and she wanted them to spend some time exclusively with each other without having to bother about her. “Nothing special, Brother, Emmaline has written to me about it, and I thought…”
“Of course, Georgie, you can go if you want to,” Darcy said before excusing himself to go and freshen up.
“Thank you, Brother. I will also go and write to Emmaline about my plan,” Georgiana smiled, and then left as swiftly as she had come.
Left alone in the parlour, Elizabeth pondered over her husband’s incomprehensible behaviour. It was difficult for her to fathom how he was able to behave so naturally with her, as if… as if that nightmarish morning in Hyde Park had never happened. For one moment, she desperately wished that it was so—that the morning and her reprehensible accusations were all part of a bad dream from which she had finally woken up, to find everything so blessedly normal.
Unfortunately, the lonely days and nights she had spent shedding tears were all too real for her to play make-believe. She let out a deep breath, realising she could not keep postponing her apology, however much she was loath to disturb the current tranquillity between them. She would need to apologise as soon as she got him alone once again.
∞∞∞
After tea, Darcy went to his bedchamber for a change of clothes. When he entered his room, everything was familiar and comforting except for a faint fruity, pleasing fragrance that was strange yet familiar.
He looked around and noticed fresh flowers on one of the tables. Are they the reason? he wondered as he approached them and sniffed lightly. No.
He rang the bell for Banes before sitting on his bed. The smell felt stronger as he sat down. Puzzling over the cause, he picked up the top pillow with the intention of placing it against the headboard. It was then that he realised that the mysterious fragrance was emanating from the pillow he held. He buried his face in it when it suddenly occurred to him why the smell was so familiar and what its presence on his pillow indicated.
Elizabeth!
His heart sang and he anxiously searched for another sign of what his heart was telling him. A sign that would remove any doubt about her feelings for him.
Oh, please let it be there. He lifted the coverlet and flung it impatiently when it did not yield what he wanted. He then rummaged through the many pillows and the cushions until he found it: one long, lustrous strand of chocolate brown hair clinging to one of the cushions. For a long moment, he sat grinning like a fool as he stared at the strand of hair. After a while he picked it up, wrapped it in his handkerchief carefully, and placed the handkerchief in one of his drawers. Then he sat down once again to wait for his valet.
As he waited, he pondered his predicament on when to approach Elizabeth. He had come home with the sole purpose of discovering the reason for her unfathomable conduct. But he had not banked on getting a glimpse into her heart the moment he arrived. In the last few weeks, he had plumbed the depths of misery. Then to discover that she had tender feelings for him was like a balm to his lacerated soul and he wanted to bask in the happiness for just a little while before bringing up the difficult subject.
∞∞∞
Banes was a little delayed in responding to Mr Darcy’s bell, as he had waited for the footman to accompany him with the hot water he knew Mr Darcy would be needing. He entered the room after a perfunctory knock and stopped abruptly at the sight that met his eyes.
It appeared as if a hurricane had visited the master’s bed. The coverlet was hanging from the bed such that half of it was on the floor; there were cushions and pillows on the floor as well. And amidst all the chaos, Mr Darcy lay sleeping with a smile on his face. He clutched a pillow to his chest as his feet rested on the floor.
“Please leave the water behind the screen, James. It seems it will be a while before it is required,” Banes said as he bent to remove Mr Darcy’s boots.
∞∞∞
Giving Fitzwilliam enough time to freshen up, Elizabeth too followed him upstairs. Although loath to bring up the painful subject, she wanted to apologise to him at the earliest.
For a few moments, she remained standing in front of the door to his bedchamber, trying to gather her courage and her thoughts. She had just raised her hand to knock on the door when it opened, and Banes came out.
“Mr Darcy?”
“He is sleeping, Mrs Darcy,” Banes replied, then continued with a smile, “Like a baby. It appears that being at home with his family has had a calming effect on him for he was quite disturbed at Rosings.
“That is good to know.” Elizabeth nodded and turned to go.
“Er… shall I…” Banes asked hesitantly.
“No…no. Let him sleep. I will talk to him tomorrow.”