But she had made a promise. Elizabeth resolved that the best solution was to avoid Mr. Wickham, keeping to the side of the room away from the card players. Despite the initial success of this strategy, she did not move quickly enough when the game ended. Before she was aware what had transpired, she discovered Mr. Wickham taking the seat beside her. How was she to keep her word to Darcy now?
He smiled at her amiably. "Miss Elizabeth, you look quite lovely this evening."
Elizabeth met his eyes with a look intended to convey her apologies. After a minute of silence, Mr. Wickham said with concern, "Are you quite well?"
She bit her lip, willing him to understand. Her anger at Darcy for putting her in this position flared to life again.
It was unusual to catch Mr. Wickham with a frown on his face, but he wore one now. "Allow me to guess. You are forbidden to speak to me." His tone held anger and disbelief.
Elizabeth looked down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap.
"Of course. I do not know why I am surprised. This is hardly the first time he has taken from me something I valued on nothing more than a whim. But he cannot forbid me to speak to you." He paused, then continued in a low tone of restrained anger. "For your sake, I will not tarry. I would not wish to place you in jeopardy should someone report we were together. That you should be subject to such demands! If only I had the living I had been promised, I could have… But no matter. I would never have met you then. I have that, at least, to thank him for."
Elizabeth's lips turned into a slight smile, though her eyes were still downcast. Mr. Wickham was moving into the realm of outrageous flattery and flirtation, and owing to her prohibition on speech, she had no recourse to stop him. It was a fitting retribution for Mr. Darcy.
"I will ask only one thing of you before I go," he said. "When you are at Pemberley, when you walk along the edge of the stream and through the woods, will you remember me sometimes? It would be a comfort to know I should cross your mind from time to time. I know you cannot answer, so I must imagine your response and hope it is the one I wish for."
When he said no more, Elizabeth finally looked up at him again. He had apparently been waiting for that, since he leaned close to her and said in a low voice, "But I promised I would be brief, and I have already said too much. Remember me… Elizabeth." With a last caressing glance, he stood and left for the corner of the room where some of the younger people had collected for a dance.
Elizabeth watched him offer his hand to Lydia. She ought to be relieved he had left her side, since he had crossed the boundary into impudence. But she could not blame Wickham, given the provocation Darcy had given him by exacting her promise not to speak to him. She knew all too well where the true blame belonged.
***
"I had thought Mr. Bingley might return to Netherfield for the wedding," Elizabeth said to Darcy the following day. It had been her dearest hope, perhaps her only hope, for the occasion: to have Jane and Bingley meet again.
"I thought it best not to suggest it to him."
Elizabeth wondered what that meant. "Is he aware of our wedding?"
"No, I plan to write to him once we reach Pemberley. He is often a visitor there, so it is likely you will see him soon enough."
But Jane would not. She could not imagine what excuse Darcy might manufacture for failing to invite his friend to their wedding. "It is of no matter. I was merely surprised."
Darcy turned to her and took her hand, a look of concern in his eyes. "Had you hoped for a larger wedding? Have I, in my haste to call you my own, deprived you of this?"
Somehow it was worse when he was kind. It would be easier in a way if he were always disagreeable. Why did he exempt her from his scorn for her family?
"No, not at all. I have no objection to the wedding plans." Apart from their very existence, she thought.
He did not seem reassured. "I hope you would tell me if something were not to your liking. I wish to make you happy, not to impose upon you."
It was too late for that. At least he meant well, even if his actions did not match his intention. Unfortunately, it did not begin to outweigh Elizabeth's anger over his interference with Mr. Bingley and Jane.
"I assure you, I am not in any way displeased," she said.
He looked at her with perplexity, as if she were a conundrum he could not make out.
***
Elizabeth was out of spirits the evening before her wedding. She did not know which would be worse, to deprive herself of this last night in the company of her family or to be forced to listen to their raptures about the morrow's events. Lydia and Kitty were delighted with their new gowns, and even Jane looked forward to the general society.
Mr. Darcy had elected not to join them for supper, preferring instead to remain at Netherfield with his sister. It was a relief to Elizabeth, who was having trouble enough maintaining a happy countenance on her last evening with her family. To her disap pointment, her father had retired early to his library, unwilling to tolerate his wife's endless discourse on the finery that would be Elizabeth's once she was Mrs. Darcy.
Listening to her sisters speculate on which officers might attend the wedding, Elizabeth wondered when she would see her family again. Surely Mr. Darcy could not object if she travelled to Longbourn for a brief visit someday. Or perhaps he would object; she had been afraid to raise the question with him.
"You must go up to bed, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet cried, "You will need your sleep tomorrow." Elizabeth winced at her mother's coarseness and made her escape before it could become any worse.
Jane followed her up soon after, only to find her sister already in bed in the dark. She set the taper beside the mirror and began her nightly preparations as quietly as possible. But a sound, and then another, came from the direction of the bed.
She hurried over to sit beside Elizabeth, rubbing her shoulder with her hand. "Dearest Lizzy, you must not listen to our mother. I am certain tomorrow night will not be so bad. You will see."
Elizabeth had spent little thought on the prospect of her wedding night. It was just one more unpleasantness to come in a future that held little else. No matter how terrible the event might be, it would be nothing to spending her life with Mr. Darcy. She tried to still her sobs. "It is nothing, Jane. I am sad over leaving my home, no more. I will miss you so very much." The thought made her cry again.
Jane took her hand. "I know; but we will write often, will we not? I am looking forward to visiting you and seeing the famous Pemberley."
"I wish it could be so, but I must warn you, I do not believe I will be allowed to invite any of you to Pemberley." Elizabeth turned a tear-stained face to Jane. It was better to tell her now than to disappoint her hopes later on or, worse, make her think Elizabeth did not want her to visit.
"Not be allowed to! Lizzy, I cannot imagine what you are speaking of."
"Mr. Darcy does not approve of our family. The connection is a degradation to his pride. I cannot imagine he will welcome any of you to Pemberley."
"How could he not approve? He loves you. How could he fail to accept your family?" Jane asked soothingly.
"Jane, I know whereof I speak. He has often told me as much." Elizabeth buried her face in her pillow.
"I cannot believe it. You would not have chosen to marry such a man."
"I had no choice."
"Lizzy, what do you mean? Do not tell me he…" Jane paused, hesitating to think so ill of anyone, least of all her sister's husband-to-be.
"No, he did not hurt me. He kissed me where others could see. What else could I do but agree?"
"Oh, Lizzy, I am so sorry. But he is a good man; I am certain of it, and I know you will grow to care for him. It is obvious how much he loves you."
Elizabeth wiped her eyes, realising the distress she was causing to her most beloved sister, who had already paid a high enough price at Mr. Darcy's hand. "No doubt you are right, Jane. I am sure all will be well."
Chapter 5
ELIZABETH DID NOT LO
OK back as the carriage pulled away from Longbourn, though her family was all outside to see the newlyweds on their way. Her lack of composure was such that she feared she might cry if she did, and she had already disgraced herself once before the wedding by bursting into tears in her father's arms outside the church door. Though everyone had commented kindly on her bridal nerves and her distress on leaving her family, Elizabeth did not doubt that Mr. Darcy must have been displeased when his bride appeared before him at the altar with red-rimmed eyes.
On the seat across from her, Mr. Darcy was watching her keenly. She shivered a little when she encountered his gaze. He said, "It has been an emotional day, has it not?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Something in her face must have alerted him, for he reached out to pull down the shade on the carriage window. Moving carefully across to her—even the luxurious Darcy carriage could not compensate for the uneven road—he sat down beside her and put his arm around her.
His unexpected kindness undermined her determination. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. With his free hand, he turned her face into his shoulder and held her while she wept.
When her sobs finally faded into exhausted despair, he cupped her face with his hand and dried her eyes tenderly with his handkerchief. "There, my love, it is not so bad, is it?" He leaned forward to kiss her gently.
He was being considerate and thoughtful, and the least she could do was to try to please him. She put her arms around his neck in the way he liked and let him kiss her. If she did not look forward to his kisses, at least they no longer troubled her; and it was comforting to have some human contact, even if it was with Mr. Darcy. Her husband. She wondered how long it would take her to become accustomed to that idea.
She was startled when Darcy's hand moved to cup her breast. No one had ever touched her there before, and the sensation was disturbing. She forced herself to imagine she was in London, in the busy sitting room of her uncle's house, while her aunt read poetry aloud. She could almost feel the heat of the fire burning on the hearth and hear the children at play. She concentrated on the picture she had created, and allowed her husband to do as he pleased.
***
Mr. Darcy took pains to remain at Elizabeth's disposal on her first full day at Pemberley. She was quieter than was her wont, and he feared she might be overwhelmed by her new home. Knowing her fondness for long walks, he showed her some of his favourite parts of the grounds; but although she admired them, he still suspected she was out of spirits. So he stayed near her constantly, holding her hand when he could and reassuring her of his devotion.
The following day, he had no choice but to spend at least a short while attending to business matters. He wished there were someone to whom he could entrust Elizabeth during the time, but she knew no one but him. Still, Elizabeth's strength of character had been one of her attractions for him, and he was certain that even if her sensibilities were still affected, she would be well enough until he returned. Even so, he couched his words with care. "I am sorry to leave you to your own devices so soon, Elizabeth, but I must meet my steward this afternoon to discuss what has happened in my absence. With luck, it will not take long, and I will be back by your side soon."
"Pray do not concern yourself on my behalf, sir. I am well able to entertain myself, and I would not wish to interfere with your business." An afternoon to herself sounded heavenly to Elizabeth.
"Is there anything I can arrange for your comfort? There is music for the pianoforte somewhere, and of course the library is at your complete disposal."
"Thank you, but I believe I will use the time to attend to my correspondence. I have several letters to write."
"To your family?"
"Yes, to let them know we are safely arrived. I am sure my mother is anxious to hear about Pemberley."
He frowned but said, "Very well."
"Is there a problem?" She could not deny he had been everything that was generous and gracious to her since their arrival, and she was resolved to do her best to meet his require ments in return.
"Not at all. It is considerate of you to inform them of our safe arrival, though afterwards, I see no reason to encourage your family to be overly familiar."
Was he saying what she thought he was? Did he wish her to have no contact with her family? With the caution now habitual in her interactions with him, she said, "Would you prefer, then, in general that I not write to my family?"
"I would prefer to minimise our connections with them."
He had never made a secret of his disdain for her family, but she was surprised even he would go to such an extent. Her anger rose. So he expected her to deny her family now she was his wife? She bit her tongue on a sharp retort, remembering Charlotte's words regarding the importance of not provoking her husband at this early stage, although as she spent time with him, she was beginning to doubt the possibility he might ever change his ways. Still, it would not hurt to be agreeable now and to think over her options at a calmer moment.
"Very well; I will take that under consideration." She hoped the words would not choke her.
He rose and came around the table to kiss her cheek. "Until later, then."
She did not know whether she was more shocked or furious, not only at his pride, but also at his unquestioning presumption she would agree with him in discarding her family. She had never argued with him when he disparaged them in the past, but could he actually believe her to be of the same mind? Did he think her so shallow that she would be willing to throw away her entire life for the chance to marry him? It was abominable. No wonder he had not wanted Bingley exposed to Jane again. If they had wed, it would be more difficult for Darcy to pretend his wife's family did not exist.
As the reality of it became evident, her spirits sank even lower. Now she truly would be dependent on him for everything.
***
Even Elizabeth had to admit Darcy paid her every atten tion a new bride could wish for. He lavished her with gifts and walked with her through the park. On fine days, he often took her driving through the hills of Derbyshire. The wild landscape felt somehow alien to Elizabeth, but even so, she acknowledged its beauty. It was preferable to sitting alone, surrounded by the unwanted riches of Pemberley, thinking of what her life might have been.
He took her walking along the river at Dove Dale with scenery that could scarcely be matched. It was impossible not to take pleasure in it, and she said as much.
"If you enjoy this prospect, I can only assume you have a particular fondness for boulders." He took her hand in his.
"Fortunately, you have an abundance of them here in Derbyshire," she said with some of her old archness.
He looked pleased she thought. She must remember to praise the landscape more. She could not fault him for wanting her to like her new home.
Nor could she fault him for his behaviour towards her. He made a point of learning her tastes in books and bringing to her attention volumes in the library that might be of interest to her. Often he would ask her about them afterwards, much as her father had, although Darcy had the superior education. She generally found his points interesting. Although she did not always agree with them, she never said as much.
Once, when he was expressing a particularly strong opinion of a novel, she said, "Sir, if I did not know better, I would think you were trying to provoke me into an argument!"
"Perhaps I am." He sounded oddly wistful.
Despite his efforts, conversation between them often languished. Over time, she felt his intent gaze, which once she had thought critical, was turning more to one of puzzlement, as if he did not know quite what to make of her. Was he wondering why he had married her? She suspected he might have regrets given the objections to the match he had stated. She hoped he would not turn any disappointment on her, and she increased her efforts to be a proper wife.
His nightly visits showed no signs of flagging. She did not precisely dread them, once she was past her initial embarrass ment at the act itself and the way
s in which he touched her. He was invariably kind and gentle, and she was aware she had much to be thankful for in that regard. She had overheard enough stories about pain and humiliation in the marital bed to appreciate that. But it was difficult to feel gratitude when he was also the one who had placed her in this position.
She grew to almost enjoy the time afterwards when he made no further demands but held her in his arms. Her loneli ness was such that it was comforting to be held, even by him, and to feel the warmth of his body against hers; and at those times she did not mind his kisses and caresses. They could be pleasant in a way, especially the touch of his hand as it moved along her body.
But that was later, and earlier in the visit, his touch could be troubling. He seemed to especially enjoy caressing those sensi tive and secret parts of her which could create warm sensation in her. She fought against the feelings and schooled herself to lie still. If he knew her body responded to his touch in such an unladylike manner, it would be that much more proof of the inferiority and lack of respectability of her family. It was not for the mistress of Pemberley to find pleasure in the flesh.
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy Page 4
