CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Mrs. Reynolds Writes from Pemberley
The letter from Pemberley arrived on a morning when Elizabeth had nearly forgotten that the place existed outside Darcy's stories.
Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, wrote to her directly. The hand was neat and confident.
Dear Miss Bennet,
Mr. Darcy has instructed me that I may write to you concerning any preparations you wish made before your arrival. He has also instructed me not to trouble you with unnecessary questions. As those two instructions are somewhat at odds, I shall do my best...
Elizabeth laughed. Darcy, across the breakfast table, looked up.
"What?"
"Mrs. Reynolds understands you very well."
His expression became wary. "What has she said?" Elizabeth read the sentence aloud. Bingley, who had stayed at Longbourn after an early visit to Jane, laughed into his coffee.
Darcy ignored him.
Mrs. Reynolds continued with practical matters.
The mistress's apartments had been aired.
No furniture would be changed until Elizabeth saw the rooms herself.
A smaller sitting room overlooking the east lawn had been prepared for her private use only because Darcy remembered Elizabeth saying she liked morning light.
Elizabeth stopped reading.
She looked at him. Darcy was studying his plate with suspicious concentration.
"You remembered that?"
"You complained that the guest room at Netherfield faced west."
"Once."
"Twice."
"I did not complain. I observed."
"Repeatedly."
Jane smiled into her tea. Elizabeth returned to the letter.
Mrs. Reynolds asked whether Elizabeth preferred a writing desk in the sitting room or near the library window.
She mentioned that several tenants had sent congratulations and that the village women were preparing a small welcome though Mr. Darcy had requested "nothing excessive," an instruction Mrs. Reynolds plainly considered open to interpretation. At the bottom was a postscript.
I hope you will forgive my saying that all at Pemberley are very pleased for Mr. Darcy. We have known him since boyhood and have never seen him write so frequently of any place away from Derbyshire as he has written of Longbourn.
Elizabeth read that line twice. Darcy looked up. "What now?"
"Nothing."
"You have that expression."
"What expression?"
"The one that generally precedes trouble."
Elizabeth folded the letter.
"Mrs. Reynolds says you have been writing about Longbourn."
A faint colour appeared across his cheekbones. Lydia, who had entered halfway through the conversation, exclaimed, "La! Did you tell them about me?"
Darcy closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"What did you say?"
"That you are loud."
Lydia gasped.
He opened one eye. "And brave."
She stopped.
"Oh."
Darcy returned to breakfast. Lydia sat beside Kitty, unexpectedly quiet. Later Elizabeth found Darcy in the library.
"What else did you tell Mrs. Reynolds?"
He looked up. "About Longbourn?"
"Yes."
"That your father has an excellent library but an unreliable habit of disappearing into it."
"True."
"That your mother remembers every illness within five miles."
"Also true."
"That Mary plays more solemn music than Georgiana."
"Nearly impossible, but true."
"That Kitty is improving at chess."
"She cheats."
"Poorly."
Elizabeth smiled. "And me?"
Darcy became still.
"What did you write about me?"
He closed the book on his lap.
"That you walk farther than anyone sensible in bad weather."
"Insulting."
"That you argue with me even when I am plainly right."
"More insulting."
"That you are kind when no one is watching."
Her smile faded.
"That you make Georgiana laugh. That you know the names of Longbourn's tenants. That you read quickly and judge books harshly. That you prefer windows open even when rooms are cold. That you love your family without pretending they are perfect."
Elizabeth swallowed.
Darcy's voice lowered.
"And that I hope Pemberley deserves you."
She stared at him.
"Fitzwilliam."
He looked suddenly uncomfortable. "You asked."
"Yes."
Elizabeth crossed the room and stood before him.
"You speak very beautifully when you forget to be grave."
"I am always grave."
"Not always."
She bent and kissed his forehead.
Darcy looked up in surprise.
Elizabeth smiled. "Write to Mrs. Reynolds that I require no changes. Only room on the shelves."
"How much room?"
"A great deal."
"I feared that."