He must have been tired. The night of the gala, they had made love a second time and then talked until they could no longer hold their eyes open. They had not rested much the two nights that followed either.
Matrons in her acquaintance spoke of marital intimacy as if it were a chore, and after their first time, it seemed possible it would be. Kissing and touching were enjoyable, but becoming one flesh had been awkward. A certain fulfilment came from his pleasure, so she could not deny him when he derived such satisfaction.
Another glance outside revealed they were passing through the village of Sonning Eye and would soon be at Sagemore. When her gaze returned to her husband, he was awake and observing her in much the same manner she had studied him earlier.
“We are in Sonning Eye.”
“It appears we are.” She lifted herself from his chest, and he straightened, likely stretching to alleviate the stiffness from being in such an uncomfortable position for much of the ride.
He shifted to the other seat, and they began setting themselves to rights. She adjusted any loose hairpins and put on her bonnet, while her husband buttoned his coats. As they both donned their gloves, the stones of the bridge rattled against the hard wheels of the carriage, and she shifted to the side so she could see the Magnolia trees3 lining the road.
When they first travelled to Sagemore, the Magnolias had fascinated her. She had never seen one until that day, and she had walked amongst them, studying the dark, waxy leaves and brilliant white flowers larger than her own hand.
“You are taken with the Magnolias again?”
“There are more blooms than when we were here last. They are beautiful.” A mischievous eye turned towards her husband. “But I am not as taken by them as I am the estate’s owner.”
His cheeks pinked, and she giggled; however, as they pulled up to the front door, her stomach clenched at the sight of the staff lined along the side of the drive. Of all this, she was mistress!
Her husband alighted the carriage and helped her down, beaming with pleasure. “Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth moved beside him and took his arm as she took in her surroundings. The house was not large by society’s standards, even if it was larger than Longbourn, but her heart swelled at the sight of it. Young rosebushes forged their way up the outer walls of the house, hedges were neatly trimmed, large trees surrounded the periphery, and the wilder outer garden was in bloom. It was home—her home, and it suited her well.
They paused within the entry hall and handed their gloves and hats to Hattie and James, who had arrived before them. With a few steps forward, she stood under the crystal chandelier gazing at the small curved ceiling and painted trim that had attracted her eye during their first visit. It was one of several simple yet elegant details, which rendered the home a bit grander than it first appeared.
Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, stepped forward. “Mrs. Darcy, I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty of ordering baths for you and the master. I have sent the footmen to begin carrying the water upstairs.”
“That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Green. Perfect, I would say after two days of travel.”
With a neutral expression, the housekeeper nodded, excusing herself to attend other matters. Thus far, she had accepted Elizabeth but acceptance was not enough. As the new mistress, Elizabeth would have to earn her staff’s respect.
Elizabeth’s attention was drawn to her husband’s arm, and she allowed him to lead her to their suite of rooms. When he closed the door to the sitting room, her hand slid down until it was encased in his.
“I meant to ask you before, but why is there only a master’s bedchamber?”
He glanced towards the bedroom and pulled her into a loose hold in his arms. “My uncle and aunt felt they would have better use of the smaller home if they shared a bed chamber. My mother indicated they expected a large family, but it was not to be.”
He pulled her closer and kissed her softly. “If you would like your own chambers, we can move these furnishings and take the old bed down from the attics, or you can purchase new furniture should those not suit.”
She shook her head. “I was curious, nothing more. I have no desire to change our current sleeping arrangement.” He must have been concerned she now wished her own chambers since he relaxed when she shook her head. “Unless you now desire to remove to your own rooms?”
“No, I would like us to continue as we have been.”
She stood on the tips of her toes and gave him a cheerful peck on the lips. “We should both take our baths before they get cold.”
“I could join you,” he whispered, gripping her waist. “Then we would only need one tub of water.”
She laughed at his eager smile and deposited a kiss on his cheek. “I applaud your idea to save the footmen work, but the water has already been brought to our dressing rooms.”
Thus far, she had been unclothed in the dark or with very little candlelight—he had yet to see her scars. What if he were to find them repulsive?
His frown displayed his disappointment, but he took her hands and drew them to his lips as he took a step back. “You are correct, of course. May I come fetch you in an hour? I thought we could take a walk around the park.”
“Yes,” she gushed. “A walk sounds lovely.”
“Good, then; an hour it is.”
He caressed her lips with tantalising slowness against hers, eliciting gooseflesh down the back of her neck. She grinned, and strode through the doorway to her dressing room. When she turned to close the door behind her, he was still standing in the same place, watching her go.
An hour later, Darcy knocked on the door to the mistress’ dressing room. She called for him to enter, and he stepped through as Hattie exited to the water closet. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She was beaming in happiness, and he could not help but take great pleasure in her joy.
He stepped forward, took her hand, and led her out of the house to the grounds. Walking his own property with her was an eye-opening experience. She noticed so many small details he had never given a second glance.
“So you approve of Sagemore then?”
She spun around with a startled expression. “Yes, very much so. I am sorry you are only now discovering how much I adore it. It is a lovely home.”
“I was too concerned with estate business before our departure for Bath. We both spent that Sunday occupied with our own concerns.”
Elizabeth stopped and placed a hand upon his chest. “Do not feel you did something wrong. You had not been here in over a fortnight and would be leaving again for a month complete. It was understandable you had business to attend.”
“I suppose so.” He entwined their fingers, and they began to walk towards the bridge that led to the farmlands.
“Where are we going?”
He could not restrain the grin that threatened to envelop his face. “Not much further. I have something I wish to show you.”
A flirtatious look lit her face, and he laughed in delight. “Do not attempt your arts and allurements on me, Mrs. Darcy. You will discover where when we get there.”
She pouted. “Most unfair.”
“I have been anticipating this for quite some time. I will not spoil the surprise.”
They continued along a path to the side of the road and soon found themselves in front of the rather large stables.
Clearly, Elizabeth was taken aback. “You wished to surprise me with the stables?”
“Not quite,” he replied, as he pulled her inside.
She examined her surroundings as if she were unsure. She had spoken of riding several times since they made their initial acquaintance. Could she be wary, or perhaps, she suspected? He should not have asked her to ride with him while they were in Bath.
“I mentioned I spent a large amount of my childhood in the Pemberley stables. Mr. Johns taught me a great deal during that time. When I inherited Sagemore, I began breeding horses. My uncle had several from good bloodlines,
and Homer has an excellent pedigree. I began there.”
“Mr. Darcy,” called a man, standing to the side, “it is good to have you back, sir.”
“Johns, may I present my wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Mrs. Darcy, I would like you to meet my stable manager, Johns.”
Elizabeth must have recognised the name since she broke into a wide smile. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Johns bowed. “Yours too, ma’am.”
“Where do you have him?” asked Darcy.
Elizabeth glanced between the two men with curious fascination, and he implored Johns with his eyes to understand his request. Fortunately, the stable manager grinned and led the way to an older portion of the building situated to the back of the courtyard.
“I put what you specified back here.” They turned a corner where he stopped at a stall and peered inside. He then nodded as he stepped to aside.
Darcy pressed his palm against the small of Elizabeth’s back and guided her forward, so she could see inside the stall where a huge sorrel horse stood, chewing his hay. She gasped and looked to him with wide eyes.
“He is beautiful!”
“Do you like him?”
“Very much, but he is so large.” Elizabeth regarded her husband with wary eyes. “You cannot mean for me to ride him?”
Johns chuckled and stepped forward. “This one’s a big baby, he is, and one of the best horses we have. He’s a good ride, but still gentle.”
Darcy opened the door, and pulled her into the opening. “Page is perfect for you, but if you try him and do not like him, you can pick another horse.”
Johns reached into his pocket and pulled out a carrot to hand to her. “Go ahead, give him this. You will see.”
Darcy nodded and she held the carrot where the horse could see it.
She gave a few clucks. “Look what I have for you.”
Page nickered as he stepped forward until they were face to face. He stretched his head out a bit, and she giggled as he moved his lips towards the treat, clamping them once or twice on air before grasping his prize. The entire carrot was worked into his mouth, and he began to crunch, stopping at times to nuzzle Elizabeth’s hand.
When Page appeared satisfied he knew her, she ran her hand up the side of his face, gave him a scratch on the cheek, and beamed with pleasure when he twisted his head so her hand was in the soft indention under those cheeks.
“That’s where he likes to be scratched ma’am,” said Johns.
She made a few passes with her fingernails and the horse stretched his neck further to help her reach better. Elizabeth began laughing. “He is nothing more than a big baby.”
“So, you will try him?”
“I will, but I make no promises. The mare my father had was much smaller. He would have never allowed me to ride a stallion.”
Darcy nodded for Johns to leave them. When he was sure they were alone, he wrapped his arms around Elizabeth from behind as she continued to stroke the horse’s large white blaze.
“He is a gelding, Elizabeth. I did not need any stallions with his bloodlines, but he had such striking markings with the small bits of his white socks that stretch over his hocks. He was also such an enjoyable ride I could not bear to part with him. I thought he would suit Georgiana well if she visited, so I kept him. Stallions can be unpredictable and unruly, so I had him gelded for my sister’s safety. I wanted a horse I could trust.
“Georgiana saw him once when he was young and wanted to name him Knight. Johns and I felt Page Boy was more appropriate since he was gelded.”
She arched her eyebrow. “You could have just said you named him Page Boy.”
“I suppose, but I did not consider it.”
She stroked back over his blaze following the white over the side of the nose. “His markings do make him beautiful. The little bit of white on his back leg looks a bit like a lick of fire.”
“Do you mean over his hocks?" He gestured towards Page’s back leg, and she nodded. "I think it looks like fire, as well." He wrapped his arm around her back. "So, will you ride with me tomorrow morning?”
She stopped petting the horse and rotated to face him.
With obvious pleasure, she nodded. “Yes, I would love to go riding with you.”
1 From Alegheri, Dante. The Divine Comedy
2 Eliot Bibles were published in the Algonquin language in 1663 in Cambridge, Massachusetts. There is a copy in the library at Blickling Hall in Norfolk, although the woman
there claimed it was published in 1595.
3 Varieties of Magnolia existed in the UK during this time period. For example, a variety called 'Exmouth' was developed in the early 18th century by John Colliton in Devon. (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/gardening/howtogrow/8229745/How-to-grow-Magnolia-grandiflora-Exmouth.html)
Chapter 14
The early July sun beamed through the windows in the west drawing room—the best room, in Elizabeth’s opinion, for needlework and reading. The west side of the house was a bit warm in the summer months, but opening a few windows allowed for a refreshing breeze to keep her cool as she worked.
In the month since their return from Bath, she and Fitzwilliam had been on their own. It had been a blissful time as their bond grew.
The few intrusions on their privacy included several callers, which Elizabeth welcomed graciously. She was pleased to meet people of the neighbourhood, and happy to find most of them welcoming. Some of the more affluent members of society were more curious to see the unknown young woman the younger Darcy had selected as his bride, but they were never rude. Regardless of the reason for their visits, she did her duty and returned every one.
Aside from the callers and the servants, their only other interruptions had been correspondence from family, which was not onerous by any means. Fitzwilliam’s grandmother had sent several letters. The dowager mentioned she had extended her stay in town, but had been mysterious as to her reasons for the delay; although, her last missive told of her arrival at Matlock with Uncle Henry and Aunt Elinor.
Her husband had also received several diatribes in the form of letters from his father and Lady Catherine. Lady Catherine’s were lit with a candle and tossed into the grate unopened. The elder Darcy’s soon were set aflame as well, and their ashes joined the previous missives for the maids to clean later.
Elizabeth paused as her eyes studied the entire composition of her needlework. The last few stitches were not quite even, and she debated whether to remove them or leave them as they were. With a sigh, her shoulders dropped. No, they would need to be re-stitched. She began to tug at the thread but was interrupted when Knowles, the butler, entered.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, ma’am.”
She rose from her seat as a gentleman in regimentals entered behind Knowles. He came to stand before her and bowed as she curtsied.
“Mrs. Darcy, I understand.”
Fitzwilliam told her of his cousin often, yet he never mentioned his or his regiment’s return. Was her husband even aware of his visit?
“Yes, Colonel. I apologise; Fitzwilliam is not here to greet you, but an issue with a tenant required his attention. He felt it necessary to address the problem as soon as possible.”
Knowles, who had not yet been dismissed, hovered nearby, so she faced him. “Please have tea delivered to this room, and see to it my husband is notified of his cousin’s arrival as soon as he returns.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded with a bow. He made haste through the door, as she returned her attention to her guest, who was grinning, undaunted at being welcomed by a stranger.
“Please do not worry on my account. Darcy has always said I am welcome at my leisure, and I have become in the habit of arriving without warning. I do hope I have not inconvenienced you with my terrible manners.”
“No.” Her lip could not help but quirk up at his behaviour. “You are most welcome here. I am sure the arrangement you have with my husband still stands.” She gestured towards a chair as she made herself
comfortable on the sofa. “Would you care to have a seat whilst I have a room prepared? I am certain you would like to refresh yourself.”
“Thank you.”
The colonel situated his sabre as he sat, and she took the opportunity to study this unknown cousin. He was similar in age to her husband, perhaps a bit older. He was not handsome, but he appeared both in person and address a gentleman.
“Are you just returned from your duties?”
“I understand from the family that I arrived not long after you were wed. I spent over a week with my parents and my grandmother before taking a trip to Rosings Park in Kent.”
“That is Lady Catherine’s estate, is it not?”
“Yes, I wished to see how Anne fared in the wake of her mother’s tirade over your marriage.” He gave a small bark of laughter at his own joke.
“From what Grandmamma has told me, I would not be surprised Lady Catherine was unhappy with our marriage, but we have not opened her letters. Fitzwilliam relegates them to the grate before the ink is dry.”
The Colonel gave a snort and shook his head. “I am not surprised. It does no good to argue rather, it is best to ignore what are her attempts to intimidate you.” He leaned towards the arm of the chair and adjusted his sabre once more. “I believe my father managed to silence her when she travelled to London. Then Anne took ill, and she hurried them back to Rosings, blaming the putrid air in town.”
She tilted forward in her seat. “I do hope Miss de Bourgh is recovered. I know Mr. Darcy is very fond of his cousin.”
Mrs. Green bustled in and placed a tea service on the table before her. “Pardon me, ma’am. I have the colonel’s usual room being prepared, and Mrs. Thomas has been informed there will be three for dinner.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied. The housekeeper bobbed her head in a curt manner and exited.
Her attention returned to the colonel. “Miss de Bourgh is well, then?”
“I do not know if you could ever consider Anne well. The fever has abated, but she has a lingering cough. Despite her ill health, she was pleased to hear of your marriage to our cousin.”
An Unwavering Trust Page 21
