An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  The bed dipped as he slid behind her. His arm circled her waist and his hand opened to splay across her belly. “How is this?” His warm breath tickled her ear, and his bottom arm slipped underneath so she was in his embrace.

  “Much better,” she mumbled.

  “I love you, Elizabeth Darcy.” A soft kiss grazed against her shoulder.

  “I love you, too.”

  The room was so dark you could not see, but Darcy smiled at the sound of her voice as she drifted to sleep. He felt something poke his palm, and he forced himself to remain quiet and still, realising it was his unborn child. The babe had never made a movement he could feel before, and a part of him wished to wake Elizabeth. He wanted to celebrate and wake the entire household!

  The single matter that prevented him from bolting up and out of bed was his wife. She had been fatigued with their schedule in London and caring for Anne, and she required rest if they were to continue to tackle Rosings together. After all, the morrow would be a trying day if Lady Catherine had any say in the matter.

  1 Shakespeare, Henry V, Act III

  Chapter 23

  The morning of Anne’s funeral was a beautiful day with the most brilliant blue sky. A part of Elizabeth felt such a solemn day should be at least a little dreary, but at the same time, it could be said nature was celebrating Anne’s life and her spirit, which made the day perfect.

  Everyone had breakfast together before the men left for the service, leaving the ladies behind to oversee the servants as they put together refreshments for anyone who wished to offer their condolences after the funeral. Lady Elinor and Grace offered to take charge of the impromptu gathering, so Elizabeth could see to other duties, above all, the meeting with Mrs. Langton in regards to the furnishings and ornamentation.

  Contrary to what was expected, she opted to begin in the more public rooms. “I simply wish to reduce some of this clutter,” she stated, as she scanned the walls and furniture.

  The dowager laughed and crinkled her nose. “Rosings has been this way since my first visit years ago. Some of these are de Bourgh family pieces. It might be a nice gesture if Fitzwilliam contacted them and offered to return these heirlooms to them, since I can tell you there were more than a few ruffled feathers when Anne was named heir.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “They felt it should have been entailed?”

  “Sir Lewis was the oldest of five brothers, and the second brother, Mr. Preston de Bourgh, had two sons of his own. He was very put out that he was overlooked.”

  Mrs. Langton strode over to the escritoire in the corner and pulled out some paper, ink, and a quill. “I will catalogue whatever we take down so a list can be included within the offer.”

  “That is an excellent idea,” praised Elizabeth. “I think we should begin with the large tapestry in the middle. I hope the coverings are not so faded that the wall appears dreadful.”

  The housekeeper loaded her quill with ink. “Lady Catherine did not open the drapery often, ma’am. If there is sun damage, it should be minimal.”

  “Good! Then that will be the first thing to come down.”

  Elizabeth and the dowager spoke for a moment as the servants worked. When her attention returned to their task, the tapestry was down and the hanging fabrics still in reasonable condition—ugly, but not faded.

  “We will need to do something about these fabrics,” she remarked. “Grandmamma, would you be willing to send me samples from London. I could pick what I like, and we could have them sent here to be installed.”

  With a step forward, Mrs. Langton held up her first finger. “Before you do that, Mrs. Darcy. I have something I would show you first.”

  Elizabeth pointed to two paintings for the footmen to take down before she and the dowager followed Mrs. Langton to a supply closet below stairs.

  “Miss de Bourgh attempted to redecorate several times, but her mother always complained her tastes lacked sophistication and would instruct her to throw away the items we had ordered.”

  The dowager’s shoulders dropped. “Poor Anne! I do wonder how she managed to exert any control over Rosings.”

  “Lady Catherine had no interest in the day to day running of the estate,” chimed in Mrs. Langton, “as long as she was allowed to run the household, but Miss de Bourgh capitulated when her mother would become angry at her attempts to have any influence within the house.”

  Mrs. Langton stepped over to several trunks and lifted the lids to reveal fabrics for the walls as well as furniture and drapery. “I always told Lady Catherine I disposed of Miss de Bourgh’s orders, but I could not. I hoped one day perhaps they could be used.”

  Elizabeth fingered a fine Chinese floral patterned wall covering. “These seem as though they were expensive. I cannot believe Lady Catherine would order them away as if they were scraps from the kitchen.”

  “I certainly can,” remarked the dowager. “She could be petty when she wished, and I am certain she resented what she considered Anne’s interference.”

  She stood tall and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, I will not dispose of them. The former mistress of Rosings wished them to be used and so they shall.” She pivoted to face Mrs. Langton. “Do you know of anyone we could hire to pull down the old papers and install these?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I believe a local furniture builder in Hunsford can take care of the upholstery. I will send out inquiries today.” Mrs. Langton choked back a tear. “I do wish Miss de Bourgh were here to see her plans carried to fruition. She picked such lovely colours and fabrics.”

  Elizabeth placed her hand on the housekeeper’s shoulder. “Thank you for showing them to us. I am happy to carry out Anne’s wishes, and it will leave us with extra funds to redecorate a few other rooms as well.”

  After sorting through the papers and other materials, they returned to continue their original task, and managed to render the drawing room almost tasteful for anyone who would call.

  Upon the men’s return, Fitzwilliam surveyed the entry with his eyebrows raised. “What mischief have you been up to today?”

  Elizabeth grinned. “We thought to remove some of the clutter. I believe the green drawing room will fit a few more people and this hall is not so suffocating.”

  Uncle Henry glanced into the drawing room and then to the ladies with a surprised expression. “The draperies are open and light is coming into the house!”

  His wife slapped his arm. “The room almost seems inviting, but I am afraid until the fabrics are removed, it will still feel small and dim.”

  “Well, as soon as Mrs. Langton can procure someone to do the work, it will be done.” Everyone regarded her as if she had forgotten something, and she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

  “We still need to order the materials, dear,” Aunt Elinor informed her gently.

  The dowager chuckled. “Anne took care of that matter for us.”

  Fitzwilliam placed his hand on Elizabeth’s back with a furrowed brow. “I do not understand.”

  After a brief explanation of Anne’s purchases for the house, the dowager shook her head. “I must say Anne had lovely and expensive taste. Chinese wall coverings and the most exquisite fabrics for new drapes and furniture.”

  “That does explain a question I had after going over the books this morning.” Fitzwilliam shook his head sadly. “Anne did not touch her pin money, with the exception of several extravagant expenditures noted to a drapers in London.”

  “The materials.” Elizabeth took the handkerchief her husband held out and dabbed her eyes. “I intend to use them.”

  “Of course you do.” He kissed her temple and hugged her closer. “We are expecting a few callers from the service, including several people from the village, Anne’s physician, and the apothecary.”

  The dowager gave a sigh. “Do you believe they are sincere or attended because they were sad to lose the business?”

  Grace turned to her grandmother appalled. “Grandmamma!”

  Huntley gave a sour grim
ace, which prompted Elizabeth to giggle. “Mr. Thacker is to attend, and I suggest we all have a brandy before he arrives.” He poured the men and his grandmother a glass, and then, gave Elizabeth, Aunt Elinor, and Grace each a small amount of wine.

  When everyone had their drinks, Richard raised his snifter. “To Anne.”

  “To Anne,” they all chorused and took a sip.

  After dabbing her eye with a handkerchief, the dowager cleared her throat. "Did Catherine attend the service?"

  Uncle Henry gave a low harrumph. "Unfortunately. She noticed where Anne was to be interred and became irate."

  "For what reason?" Elizabeth was appalled.

  With a shake of his head, her husband sighed. "She claimed Anne, as the mistress of Rosings, deserved a more esteemed placement within the crypt."

  "After a rant of some duration," explained Uncle Henry, "she departed in a huff, which suited our purposes. We were able to conclude the funeral."

  They sat in silence for a few minutes until Higgs appeared at the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Thacker.”

  Everyone stood as the toadiest little man Elizabeth had ever seen entered the room. After the initial greetings, he offered excessive praise for Lady Catherine, Anne, and Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth was certain she saw Huntley grimace.

  The evening would be a long and arduous—nay Herculean, task.

  The next fortnight at Rosings was busy and productive. Darcy replaced the steward and set to work with the replacement to ensure he was well aware of his master’s expectations. He was fortunate to find the man well trained, and pleased to discover that minimal alteration to his current practices was required.

  Elizabeth, with the help of the dowager and Aunt Elinor, replaced what little help they lost with the change from Lady Catherine and managed to transform Rosings from a cluttered jumble of antiques to at least bearable. Anne’s contribution included four sets of decorations, recovered from storage, which Mrs. Langton had arranged to be installed over the next few months.

  Darcy glanced up from the ledger to Elizabeth, who spoke in an animated fashion to Grace about some topic of interest as they walked across the great hall; she paused at times to place a hand on the side of her belly.

  “Elizabeth!” he called before they could turn the corner. “Where are you going?”

  Both ladies stopped and faced him. “Mrs. Langton sent word that the furniture for the drawing room was delivered this morning. Grace and I wished to see how it all looks.”

  “May I join you then?”

  Elizabeth beamed in pleasure. “I would be happy to have you join us as long as you do not mind a discussion on embellishments and fabrics.”

  With a chuckle, he stepped forward, offering each lady an arm. “I believe I can bear it for a short time.”

  The sofa and chairs were back in their places when they entered the room, and Elizabeth grinned. “It looks wonderful!”

  “She did not mention he brought the drapery as well,” remarked Grace.

  “Mrs. Langton indicated he brought in some help due to the size of the task. I believe he plans on the removal of the furniture from the music room next.”

  “I suppose it is a good thing Bingley’s sisters will not join him. I suspect they would complain about the inconvenience.” He appraised the room, pleased with the result. “Bingley will not care.”

  “I will not care about what?” An abrupt pivot revealed his friend standing just inside the door with Richard.

  His cousin chuckled and slapped Bingley on the back. “I found him riding up to the front of the house and thought I would play the part of butler.”

  Darcy stepped forward and held out his hand. “Bingley? You did not indicate you would be here so soon.”

  Bingley shrugged. “I have had enough of my sisters at the moment, and I wished to get away. I hope you do not mind.”

  “I extended the invitation for you to join us at your leisure. You are welcome, of course.”

  “Excellent!” Bingley surveyed the room; his gaze paused on Grace to whom he offered an unabashed grin.

  Darcy could barely suppress a roll of his eyes. Bingley always gravitated towards the prettiest unmarried girl in the room, and he appeared to have found her.

  He gestured to Grace as she stepped forward. “Bingley, I do not believe you have met my cousin and Richard’s sister, Lady Grace Fitzwilliam.” His friend bowed with a wide grin as Richard circled around to stand beside his little sister.

  “Grace, this is my friend, Charles Bingley. I believe you are more familiar with his sisters Miss Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Louisa Hurst. He will be leasing Rosings for the next year or two to learn about estate management.”

  Grace’s expression was one of interest. “You hope to purchase your own estate?”

  “I do. I had hoped to find one to lease next year, but when Darcy mentioned he had a property, I decided to begin straight away.”

  Elizabeth proceeded to quit the room. “If you will excuse me. I need to notify Mrs. Langton of our guest.”

  Before she could depart, Bingley caught her attention. “Do not go to any trouble. Just put me in a cupboard somewhere and I will be content.”

  “I think I can do better than a cupboard, Mr. Bingley,” remarked Elizabeth drily, then left to locate the housekeeper.

  Darcy suppressed his laughter at her remark, but his attention was yet again drawn to Bingley, whose eyes had returned to Grace.

  “How long do you intend to reside here?”

  “I hope to remain for some time,” he answered, as he glanced back Darcy and Richard. “At least long enough to understand the workings of the estate.”

  “That could take years.”

  Darcy nodded in agreement to Richard’s remark, while he regarded Bingley with a serious mien. “He is correct. I would not mire myself down in everything at once. I am certain Mr. Barrow will be pleased to help you along, and your experience in your father’s business ventures will be to your advantage as you learn what is required.”

  Bingley positively radiated joy. “I am pleased that my background in trade will be beneficial!”

  “You should not find such fault with your past, Mr. Bingley.” Grace wore an almost scolding expression as her brother regarded her in surprise. Darcy raised his eyebrows and her cheeks pinked. “I meant nothing more than any business experience can be considered an asset. Father comments often how much he must handle the accounts and financial considerations for the estate. I believe Mr. Bingley’s proficiency should lend itself well to that portion of the endeavour.”

  Bingley rolled up on his toes and back down as he continued to appear happy and eager. “I thank you for the vote of confidence, Lady Grace. I do hope I can live up to your expectations.”

  Richard failed to disguise a bark of laughter as a cough. In all probability, his cousin was considering Bingley’s painful demise should he hurt his sole and younger sister.

  The clock on the mantel chimed, and Richard looked to see the time. “I had not realised the hour. Grace, will you accompany me to the library, so I can tell mother and father I am departing.”

  Elizabeth re-entered the room. “I wish you did not have to leave us so soon.”

  “I am afraid I must. The regiment expects my return.” He held out his hand, shaking Darcy and Bingley’s hands. “If I do not see you before your confinement, I wish you well.” He leaned over to kiss Elizabeth’s cheek.

  She nodded as she reciprocated the gesture. “You are welcome at Sagemore whenever you wish.”

  Chuckling, he pulled back. “I know.

  “Now, little sister, I need to deliver you to our parents.”

  Grace gave him a quizzical look, but did not object as he led her from the room.

  Darcy gathered Elizabeth’s hand in his while he attempted to level a merciless stare at Bingley. “Mind your attentions to my cousin. Richard and Huntley will not be merciful if you excite expectations you do not intend to fulfil.”

  Bingley’s eyes widened. �
��I was enjoying the face of a pretty woman, nothing more. They cannot fault me for that!”

  “I request one more thing: that you consider your actions. If you decide you wish to call on her, then discuss it with my uncle, but do not give my cousins reason to call you out.”

  Elizabeth placed her free hand on her husband’s arm. “Perhaps now would be a good time to mention we have a room awaiting you, Mr. Bingley.”

  “I am aware my behaviour with the opposite sex is sometimes rather forward,” confessed Bingley. “I will check myself often, Darcy; I assure you.”

  “I ask nothing more.”

  Bingley clasped his hands and then, rubbed them together. “Well, Mrs. Darcy, do you have someone to show me to my room? I believe I would like to remove the dust and horse smell before I am tossed into the pond down the road.”

  A footman was summoned to escort Mr. Bingley to his rooms, leaving Darcy and his wife quite alone.

  “You promised we would not remain much longer,” she scolded in a modulated tone. He drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to her temple.

  “And I shall keep my vow. We will remain a week, and not a day longer. Mrs. Langton has proven herself capable of carrying out your orders on the renovations, and Barrow is very capable of teaching Bingley how to run the estate.”

  He fingered an errant curl at her neck. “We shall return home where we will remain until we meet Georgie in Ramsgate.”

  “I suppose now we only need worry about Lady Catherine.” She buried her head in his chest.

  Darcy stroked her back as her shoulders lifted against him and dropped in an audible sigh. “She has not shown herself since Anne’s funeral. Why do you believe she will cause trouble now?”

  They had been fortunate Lady Catherine had remained so silent! The lack of response from her was out of character, but the peace had been too wonderful to question.

  His wife’s arms stole around his chest with the firm bump of their child between them. “She is not the sort to disappear without a word. You should warn your friend, then you and Uncle Henry should take a trip to the dower house to ensure she is not up to mischief.”