by Bella Breen
She left that room and knocked on the next. No answer, so she opened the door. This room was used by Mr. Darcy if she had to guess. Elizabeth felt like she was intruding into a man’s room, and that she had no business spying. But this was her husband’s room, and possibly hers as well. She would have to ask Mr. Darcy. Or his housekeeper. She would rather ask the housekeeper if truth were told.
Elizabeth did not know whether to use this room to change or keep looking at the other rooms. She looked around but did not see her trunk, so she quickly left the room and closed the door. She felt foolish at feeling peery, but she could not shake it.
The next door had no answer to her knock, so she opened it and saw her trunk at the foot of the bed. Finally, she had a room. Elizabeth saw that her trunk had been emptied and the contents put away. She was relieved to know that she would not be sharing Mr. Darcy’s room, though she did know some couples did that.
What would she do for a maid though? She could not reach the buttons on her back and was not going to ask Mr. Darcy to help. She was going to put off the wedding night as long as possible. Asking him to unbutton her would give him ideas.
Elizabeth left the upstairs to find a maid. She found one footman who said he would get the housekeeper, Mrs. McKeever. Elizabeth felt foolish standing alone in the entryway of her new home. She had met the housekeeper earlier in the day after the wedding. It was a rushed meeting though. Mr. Darcy had mentioned that they would do a meeting of the servants after the wedding breakfast, but that time was now and Mr. Darcy was nowhere. She almost felt as if she was not welcome here. That had to be ridiculous though, for Mr. Darcy had married her. If he had not wanted to marry her, he could have gotten out of it. Especially since his aunt had been trying to cover it up.
Elizabeth felt the loss of being her own person, of deciding what she would do and doing it. She missed her home. She had left Longbourn with the intention of coming back. She missed her sister Jane being a source of advice and a friend. She missed knowing what was going on and being part of it.
She missed being respected. No matter whether she was at Longbourn, the Gardiners’ house, or anywhere in Meryton, she had always been respected. Here, she felt as if she were some sort of interloper, someone that had tricked Mr. Darcy into marriage.
What if that was what the servants thought? Is that what Mrs. McKeever thought? That she did not deserve to be here? Oh dear. The housekeeper still had not arrived yet, and it had been many minutes. Elizabeth was sure now Mrs. McKeever did not like her. Elizabeth almost sat down on the stairs but then realized she was no longer a daughter in a house, but the mistress of a household with servants and a husband. She could no longer sit down on the stairs like an adolescent anymore. So she walked back upstairs quickly to her bedchamber and closed the door before her tears started to fall in earnest.
Chapter 13
And that was how the housekeeper found her. Elizabeth did not know how much time had passed since she had asked the footman to find Mrs. McKeever, but it had been quite some time. Enough time for her to lie on her bed and sob, as quietly as she could of course, dry her face off, and then lie down and have the tears start all over again. She was near the end of her second round of crying when Mrs. McKeever knocked and Elizabeth bade her to enter.
“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”
Elizabeth was lying on her side. She knew she had tear tracks on her face, red eyes, and a big red nose, because that is how she always looked when she cried. At home she would have expected Hill to say words of care and concern and then get someone. But here was the housekeeper standing near the door like nothing was wrong. Which caused more tears to flow down Elizabeth’s face.
“Yes.” Elizabeth sat up and faced the housekeeper directly. Mrs. McKeever could not miss the tears now, but the housekeeper made no notice. “I did want to see you. I need a lady’s maid. And I have not been introduced to the servants of the house yet. I would like to change my dress immediately and then be introduced to all the servants.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will see to it directly. You may meet us in the entryway.” The housekeeper turned and had the door opened before Elizabeth could stop her.
“Wait! I have not finished.” Elizabeth was now beyond perturbed. “I would like to understand why you are being quite cold towards me, Mrs. McKeever? And why it took so long for you to come here when I asked the footman to find you. I had a request for you at least half an hour ago.” Elizabeth was not used to speaking to servants like this; however, she felt the circumstances warranted it.
“I apologize Mrs. Darcy. I was just now able to get away.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. This was not going to work. She did not want to force herself to make it very clear that she was the mistress of the house now. But she did not know what else to do with this rudeness and insolence. If she did not stop this now, soon all the servants would treat her horribly and make her life even worse than it already planned to be.
“Could you tell me why you seem to be quite angry with me, along with being rude and insolent to the new mistress of the house?”
“I assure you, ma’am, that is not the case.”
Elizabeth was quite sure it was indeed the case. Now what would she do? She could go to Mr. Darcy but then it would be the housekeeper who had been here who knows how long against the word of the new Mrs. Darcy, whom Mr. Darcy did not even like and had been forced to marry. Elizabeth clenched her jaw because she knew how that would end.
“Mrs. McKeever, I do not know what you have been told, but since I am to be living here and you are to be working here and I am the mistress of the house and you are the housekeeper, I think it very important that we be able to get along and work together.” The housekeeper made absolutely no movement.
“I come from Meryton in Hertfordshire. I was visiting my very good friend Mrs. Charlotte Collins when Mr. Darcy proposed marriage to me and I refused him.” By the shock on Mrs. McKeever’s face it was obvious that was news to her. Elizabeth felt some satisfaction that the housekeeper did not know everything she thought she did.
“I was quite upset and took to the grounds of Rosings Park to walk. I unfortunately tripped over a tree root and tumbled with my dress ending up around my shoulders. Mr. Darcy happened to come across me right after I tumbled. He was gracious enough to help me since my hands and knee were injured. Unfortunately, Mr. Collins the parson and two village women saw Mr. Darcy pull my dress down. Col. Fitzwilliam, his cousin, also came up on us. There was nothing we could do. We were forced to marry.”
Mrs. McKeever seemed to have maybe warmed just a small amount.
So Elizabeth continued. “I was completely mortified and humiliated that so many had seen me in my chemise with my dress up to my shoulders. I certainly hope that you keep this information to yourself because as I said, it is completely mortifying. But I am telling you this so you know that I did not try to catch Mr. Darcy by compromising him. It was very awkward and unfortunate that he had to propose marriage again to me within an hour of my first rejecting him.”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands that clutched her wedding dress. She looked back up at Mrs. McKeever. “So you can see, we were both forced to marry someone that... I would imagine that Mr. Darcy did not want to marry me anymore. But we were both forced into it. I did not plan on getting married when I went to Rosings Park. I did not plan to not come back home.”
At this Elizabeth let out a little sob. She put her hand under her nose to stop her tears. “I did not plan to get married without my family in attendance.” Another little sob burst forth. “I did not intend to marry a man that I would not have married otherwise.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “But I did vow in church, before God, to be a dutiful wife, the best wife I could be. I realize Mr. Darcy did me a great honor in offering his hand. By doing that he saved me and my sisters, by association, from ruin. I owe him much. And I am sad to say that this marriage has started on the wrong foot. But I plan to make this marriage work and be a good
wife, the best I can. To do that, I will need to have a good working relationship with the housekeeper and the servants.”
Elizabeth was embarrassed at how much she had revealed. It was as if when she finally was able to talk about the events, she just could not stop herself. Things came out of her mouth that she would not have told a servant at any time. So great was her embarrassment that she covered her face with her hands and walked back to the bed and sat down. And of course she started to cry again.
It was just too much. And now she even had to explain herself to the housekeeper just to get the housekeeper to not be so rude. Elizabeth sobbed. She tried to stop herself but she could not stop crying.
Elizabeth finally came to the end of her tears and rubbed her eyes, very aware that she needed a handkerchief immediately. She opened her eyes in preparation to stand and saw a woman’s hand holding a handkerchief to her. She grabbed it, blew her nose, and then looked up at Mrs. McKeever, who had a much gentler countenance than she showed earlier.
“I must apologize, Mrs. Darcy. I had judged you before knowing the circumstances. We, the servants and I, have been very loyal to the Darcy family for generations. We felt strongly for him and Georgiana when their mother died and then their father. We have looked out for them and in our way, have guided him to avoid the women that were interested only in wealth. Unfortunately, we thought,” Mrs. McKeever looked down at the floor, “you had compromised him on purpose. I see that is very much not the case. I apologize again.”
Elizabeth blinked and rubbed her nose again with the handkerchief. “Thank you so much, Mrs. McKeever. I apologize for my rambling and crying. It has been... a difficult time.”
“I understand, dear. Let me help you with your dress so you can change. And then we can go downstairs and you can meet the rest of the servants.”
Elizabeth smiled shakily and stood. Mrs. McKeever unbuttoned her dress and helped her change into one of the dresses she brought with her from Longbourn for her short trip to see her friend at Hunsford.
Chapter 14
Mr. Darcy sat in his study and stared at his glass of brandy. He had never imagined that he would be finally married to Elizabeth Bennet, but not be happy about it. He had envisioned this day so often, imagined her in this townhouse, in his carriage, and in Pemberley. He never had imagined that he would not want to be around her.
Mr. Darcy looked down at his hand. The words that she had thrown at him after his first marriage proposal still stung. He had bared his heart to her, and she threw it back at him in the worst way that a woman could. And now he was married to her.
Mr. Darcy took a healthy swallow of his brandy. He imagined this must be like that common admonition, to be careful what you wished for. Well here he was, married to Elizabeth Bennet, and she detested him. He was not very happy with her either, even though, and he had to be truthful to himself: he still loved her. Mr. Darcy snorted and looked down at his glass. “If she ever falls in love with me, it would have to be a day in which pigs were flying over Derbyshire.”
He glanced at the writing paper, quill, and ink set out on his desk, where they had sat for the past few hours. He had two letters to write that he had put off. One to Mr. Bennet and one to his sister.
The one to Mr. Bennet would be slightly easier to write than the one to his sister. How could he tell his sister that he had been forced to marry because he had compromised Elizabeth Bennet? Especially after he had stopped Georgianna from eloping with George Wickham?
He shook his head. His sister would think he was a scoundrel now. That he was a cad, a rake. He had always behaved in every moment to be a gentleman. Now here he was, married because he was forced into marrying the woman that had spurned his offer of marriage. It grated against every fiber of his being. And what made it worse was that he still loved Elizabeth Bennet. He admired her quick mind and her figure but she did not appreciate him.
Darcy took another drink of his brandy, emptying the glass. He had better do these distasteful tasks before he got any drunker. And he knew there was no way he would ask for his husbandly rights on this wedding night. He could just imagine Elizabeth’s reaction if he tried to walk into her bedchamber.
What she had said to him in the Hunsford Parsonage would be nothing compared to what she would say if he walked into her bedchamber. She would probably even throw something. God, this was a horrible and absolute travesty of a beginning to this marriage. What else would go wrong with his love for Elizabeth Bennet?
Darcy pushed aside the bottle of brandy, his glass, and pulled the paper closer to him. He had to write Mr. Bennet to tell him that his daughter was now Mrs. Darcy due to a compromising situation. There was no way he would tell Mr. Bennet that he loved his daughter but that she had rejected his first marriage proposal. That would make Mr. Bennet think that he had compromised Elizabeth on purpose just so he could marry her, when nothing could have been further from the truth.
Letters completed and addressed sat on the corner of his desk to go out with the post on the morrow. Mr. Darcy sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had drunk another glass of brandy while he wrote to Mr. Bennet. Actually he wrote and rewrote to Mr. Bennet several times, the drafts of which were currently in the fire. Then he had another glass of brandy while he wrote his sister.
He wished he weren’t alone, and that he had his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam or even his friend Charles Bingley with him. But everyone expected him to be otherwise occupied as it was his wedding night. Ha.
He blew out the candles and closed the door to his study. He walked upstairs to go into his bedchamber to get ready for bed, but he realized that he should share valedictions with his wife before he retired for the night. It would be better to do that via the adjoining door to their bedchambers than in the hallway. It would do no good to have the servants gossip about the lack of love in the marriage already.
Mr. Darcy scuffed his boots as he slowly walked to his bedchamber. He had never been sad through his own fault in this townhouse before, but he certainly was now. He was married to a woman he loved but who did not return the feeling. He did not know what he had done to deserve this punishment, but it was a punishment indeed.
He closed his bedchamber door and decided not to ring for the valet. He did not want anyone to know that he was not going to his wife tonight. They would probably figure it out in the morning, but he did not want to deal with it right now. His heart had been kicked enough this week.
He walked to the adjoining door, took a deep breath, and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. It was completely quiet. Was she even in her bedchamber?
Mr. Darcy slowly opened the door and looked in. The candles were out but there was enough light from the moon coming through the edges of the curtains for him to see a lump in the bed. He assumed it was his wife. He debated whether to go into the bedchamber and make sure it was Elizabeth and not a pile of pillows, and to check that she was not too cold. But he decided against it.
With how maudlin he was and how much he had to drink, he would probably end up lying on the bed confessing that he loved her and wanted her to love him. He had already had his heart thrown back by her, and he did not need to repeat the experience. Mr. Darcy closed the door and slowly undressed, then climbed into bed. He snuffed out the candle and scooted under the covers for his solitary wedding night.
Chapter 15
Elizabeth woke the next day completely refreshed. The crying must have worn her out so that she had a good night’s sleep in contrast to the several nights previous. She sat up suddenly, realizing that last night had been her wedding night. She still had her nightclothes on. It did not seem like anyone else had been in the bed with her, but then again she was not entirely sure of what exactly happened on the wedding night, other than the husband came and did his husbandly duty. She did not feel any different. Had he not come at all? He detested his wife that much that he did not even come to her on their wedding night?
Elizabeth put her head in her hands. Stupid soci
ety and its stupid rules! Here they were, two people married to each other, who did not even want to be together. She had thought that maybe things would not be so bad; she had consoled herself that Mr. Darcy had great affection for her because he had actually asked her to marry him of his own will at one point. But now, obviously after her rejection of him, that affection was apparently not there anymore.
How could she fix this marriage if there was nothing to even work with? Elizabeth moaned and shook her head. She could not believe that this nightmare had gotten even worse. What was she going to do?
She heard a knock and Elizabeth bade the person to enter. A maid walked in with the breakfast tray and a small vase of flowers. “Good morning, Mrs. Darcy. I have brought your breakfast.”
Elizabeth pulled her hands down and smiled. She would not break down in front of the servants. Well, at least no servants other than Mrs. McKeever. “Thank you. And what is your name?”
The maid smiled brightly at being asked for her name. “I am Mary. I am pleased to serve you, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Oh please, call me Elizabeth. We shall become close with you as my abigail.” Elizabeth was gratified to see the maid smile again.
“I would love to follow that order, ma’am, but I could not.” The maid curtsied and then left the room.
Elizabeth shrugged. She ate her breakfast and admired the flowers. She then asked for a bath which was unexpectedly scented with rose oil.
“I hope you do not mind the rose oil, Mrs. Darcy. Georgiana, the master’s sister, loves using it in her bath and I thought you would like it too.”
“I do indeed. I love it. Thank you so much for thinking of that.” Elizabeth was again gratified to see the maid smiling.
After getting dressed and her hair done, Elizabeth walked out of her bedchamber to explore the townhouse. She hoped to run into her husband at some point. She would pretend that she was not incredibly hurt by his avoidance of her. She felt she had to be cheerful and optimistic. He had, after all, apologized for his part in keeping Jane away from Mr. Bingley. Also he had confessed to Mr. Bingley, and they were now renewing their acquaintance. He could not be that bad of a person if he fixed his mistake.
