Pledged to Mr Darcy

by Valerie Lennox

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Elizabeth spread her hands. “Oh, Lydia, I thought you were learning by Miss Darcy’s good example!”

  “I am,” said Lydia. “I wanted to let all the horses free of their pens to run free. What a lark that would have been! Can you imagine them running over the fields while all the stable hands ran after them?” She burst into gales of laughter just picturing it.

  Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “Lydia!”

  “Well, I didn’t do that. Georgiana—Miss Darcy—said that we should simply tie all the reins together, that it would be just as good a joke as anything.”

  “That was her suggestion?” Elizabeth didn’t believe it.

  “Yes,” said Lydia.

  “She would never say such a thing. She would never get it in her head to do anything so wicked.”

  “Maybe not when I first met her, but I think she is growing more and more creative and fun,” said Lydia. “Truly, she is my best friend, but sometimes she is so afraid of everything. I have nothing I can do for her except try to convince her to try things.”

  “You should not be convincing her to try mischief!”

  “Oh, but she was sad,” said Lydia. “Her nanny, the one we visit sometimes, isn’t feeling well, and Georgiana thinks of her like a mother. I had to do something to cheer her up.”

  “I hardly think this was the thing. Lydia, I am ashamed of you. You will have to be punished.”

  “Punished?” Lydia folded her arms over her chest. “That’s an extreme reaction, I think, Elizabeth. No one was hurt. Nothing happened.”

  “I think, as your punishment,” said Elizabeth, “you can untangle the reins yourself.”

  “All of them?” Lydia winced. “Really?”

  “Really,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head at her sister. “Truly, I can’t think how you could have gotten such an awful idea in your head.”

  Lydia sulked.

  Elizabeth was mortified, and she dreaded facing Mr. Darcy about the matter. It had been a few nights since the wedding night, and she had not gone to his bedchamber, nor had he come to hers. It seemed they had settled into the same routine that they’d had before marriage. Nothing had changed.

  In some ways, Elizabeth was relieved. In others, she was a little disappointed not to know what the fuss was all about. Overall, Mr. Darcy had proved again to be generous and kind to her, even when she wasn’t sure if she deserved it. And he’d also proved to be standoffish and cold, as she’d thought him from the first.

  She did not think he would be outwardly displeased at what Lydia had done. Likely, he would say it was not a problem and tell her not to think on it anymore. But she would watch his eyes, and she would see that flicker of displeasure cross them, and it would tell her that she and Lydia had failed to measure up to his exacting standards.

  She did not wish to have the conversation with him at all, but it was better to get it over with than to have it hanging over her head for the rest of the day, so she sought out Mr. Darcy in his study.

  He looked up when she knocked and smiled at her. “Oh, it’s you.”

  She smiled back.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “It’s not good news, I’m afraid.” She looked down at the floor, and then proceeded to explain all that had happened, delivering the entire speech without looking at him. “Anyway, I told her that she would need to untangle those reins herself,” she finished up. “And I sent her off to do exactly that.” At which point, she finally looked up.

  Mr. Darcy was still smiling. He looked amused. “Tangled all the reins, eh? I’d have liked to see Boggart’s face when he discovered that. I bet he turned red as a beet.”

  “Mr. Darcy?”

  He laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” said Elizabeth, indignant.”

  He schooled himself to seriousness. “No, of course not.” He tightened his cravat. “I think your punishment fit the crime. Well done, Mrs. Darcy. Thank you for letting me know.”

  So, he wasn’t displeased? She was genuinely surprised. “Er, of course, sir.”

  “You know, I think that Lydia and Georgiana are likely simply bored,” he said. “That’s what’s causing these outbursts of mischief.”

  “There have been more outbursts?”

  “No, not that I know of.”

  “But you think there will be more?” She was worried.

  He laughed again. “They’re just being young. The liveliness is welcomed, I think. Between the two of us, we are solemn enough, don’t you think?”

  She was taken aback for a moment, because she wasn’t used to being described as solemn, but she supposed she was solemn now. It had been over six months since the death of her parents, and she seemed to have permanently changed. “I suppose so.”

  “Well, I think we should go to London,” said Darcy.

  “London? But the Season will not start for—”

  “No, I know,” said Darcy. “But Georgiana may be ready to be out in society this year, but I don’t think I’ll know until we get there and see how she manages. So, a few months of lead time would be good. The city will be empty, but not everyone goes to the country for the summer, and some who do begin to trickle back in autumn.”

  “I see.”

  “It will give the girls something to do,” said Darcy. “And I’m sure you are anxious to see your other sister, Jane.”

  “I am,” said Elizabeth. “Quite anxious. And my aunt and uncle and their children besides. Yes, I think it is a very good idea.”

  “Excellent,” said Mr. Darcy. “We shall leave on Friday.”

  “Friday?” said Elizabeth. “So soon? Will we have time to pack?”

  “I’m sure Martha will see to it all for you. She really is quite good,” said Darcy. “That’s why I recommended her as your maid.”

  “Of course,” said Elizabeth, who wasn’t used to having a personal maid devoted entirely to her and her clothing. She smiled. “I shall see you at dinner, then?”

  “Indeed.” Darcy smiled at her again, looking about as cheery as he seemed to manage, and then went back to whatever it was that was on his desk.

  Elizabeth left him to it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Mrs. Stickley, the housekeeper at Mr. Darcy’s townhouse in London—no, Elizabeth corrected herself, at their townhouse, looked perturbed when they arrived. Indeed, they had not been greeted by the household staff, although Elizabeth didn’t see how a formal welcome was possible, considering there was no time to see a carriage coming up the drive, as in the country. Here, there were carriages going to and fro in the streets at all times. No one could be sure which was bound where. Even if a servant had an eye for his own master’s carriage, it would not be visible until it was close, because the streets were narrow and the buildings tall.

  Elizabeth’s only experience with staying in town was with her aunt and uncle, who had a minimal amount of servants themselves, getting by much as the Bennets had with only a few. These servants certainly did not line up to greet them when they arrived. Elizabeth was not even sure if it was done in town. She wasn’t worried about the lack of a greeting. She did not think it necessary.

  They arrived in their carriage and disembarked. Mr. Darcy sent the driver back to the coach house behind the house, and they all ascended the steps to the front door, which Mr. Darcy opened with flourish. “Here we are,” he said.

  The entrance hall was empty and elaborate. There was a staircase against the far wall, ascending to the stories above. The ceiling stretched above them, with an imposing chandelier, crystals dangling. The walls were decorated in portraits of the Darcy family, even one of Mr. Darcy and his sister as children, standing next to their father.

  The place was beautiful, but there was no one there.

  But then Mrs. Stickley appeared, looking perturbed, although she was polite and attentive to Mr. Darcy, bowing and asking after the journey, which she hoped had been comfortable.

  “Indeed, it was,” s
aid Darcy. He peered into the main sitting room. “Is the house not ready for us?”

  Elizabeth could see that there were sheets covering the furniture in the room.

  “Well, sir, we had no idea you were coming,” said Mrs. Stickley.

  “Oh, you did not,” said Mr. Darcy. He looked at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, we had heard that you were married, but not a word from your new wife,” said Mrs. Stickley, looking at Elizabeth. “Not even to introduce herself as the mistress of the house. I suppose you were both so busy in your wedding bliss, it all slipped your mind.”

  “Yes, that must be it,” said Mr. Darcy. “I’m sure she meant to inform you.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. Why hadn’t she thought of such a thing? Yes, as the woman of the house, she should be communicating with her own servants, letting them know to expect them. She knew that such a thing must be her responsibility, but she had been so used to Mr. Darcy taking care of everything that she had not even given it any mind. Now, they had arrived at a house that hadn’t been made ready for them. The beds probably weren’t made. There was doubtless no dinner being prepared for them. It was all her fault.

  “Perhaps Mrs. Darcy would like to come with me now to see if we can correct this disaster,” said Mrs. Stickley.

  “Er, of course,” said Elizabeth, stepping forward. “What can I do to help?”

  But Mrs. Stickley only turned and began walking swiftly through the room.

  Elizabeth wanted to look back at Mr. Darcy, to ask him what to do, but that seemed more mortifying somehow. So, instead, she took off after the housekeeper, trying her best to keep up.

  They descended into the bowels of the house, where the kitchen and the servants offices and quarters were.

  Mrs. Stickley went into a room and came up with a stack of papers which she handed to Elizabeth. “These are the contents of our larders currently,” she said. “Perhaps you could instruct us on what meals you would like us to prepare. We shall be able to procure more food soon, but we shan’t be able to do for a few days. By then, we will be able to accommodate any request you might have, mum.” She bobbed her head, but she wasn’t smiling. She was almost sneering.

  Elizabeth paged through the stack of paper. “You wish me to go through this and plan meals?”

  “Well, and also, I imagine you’ll want us to bring something up to the sitting room while you all wait for your rooms to be made ready, which will take some time. You do want your rooms made ready?”

  “Yes,” said Elizabeth, glaring at the woman.

  “And it is not only you and Mr. Darcy in your party but his sister, and her governess, and… who is the other young lady?”

  “My sister,” said Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet.”

  “So, she will also require a room, and you will need lodging for her maid?” said Mrs. Stickley. “If only we’d known all this before you arrived. When I think of poor Mr. Darcy up there in the foyer, with nowhere to go and nothing to eat—”

  “Oh, heavens,” said Elizabeth. “If you have tea and some bread and butter, then bring that up for them.”

  “Bread and butter,” said Mrs. Stickley. “I see.”

  “Biscuits too if there are any already made, I suppose,” said Elizabeth.

  “Well, I suppose that will do,” Mrs. Stickley scoffed. “But what about dinner. There is no time to prepare anything elaborate.”

  “And there is no need for anything elaborate,” said Elizabeth. “After traveling, my husband often prefers a cold supper in our rooms. Whatever you have on hand will be adequate.”

  “Prefers such a thing? I never have heard him order it thus,” said Mrs. Stickley.

  “Well, I have,” said Elizabeth. “We are all tired. I’m sure no one is interested in dressing for dinner.”

  “And meals for the next two days?” said Mrs. Stickley, tapping the papers she’d given Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “Well, perhaps I could speak to the cook.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of conveying your wishes to the cook,” said Mrs. Stickley.

  “Of course you are,” said Elizabeth. “I should like to speak to her, just the same.”

  Mrs. Stickley sniffed, but she conveyed Elizabeth deeper into the bottom level of the house and into the kitchen. Mrs. Stickley announced them by saying that Mrs. Darcy had called for a cold supper to be served in their bedrooms.

  The cook, a woman with red hair and red cheeks, who was quite tall, looked up with a smile. “Oh, very good. I can have that together with no problem. And you mustn’t worry your pretty head about meals for tomorrow. I have all sorts of ideas about how to use what’s in the larder to feed you with class.”

  “Have you?” said Elizabeth, brightening. “Please, tell me about them.”

  Mrs. Stickley sniffed. “Oh, it is not the cook’s place to plan the meals, it is the lady of the house’s job, and—”

  “Well, if the cook—excuse me, what is your name?” said Elizabeth, turning to the red-cheeked woman.

  “Mrs. Litten, mum,” said the cook eagerly, still smiling.

  “If she has some ideas, I should love to hear them,” said Elizabeth. “I am sure my husband would not have hired a cook who was not quite skilled at her work, and she likely has more expertise than I.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Darcy!” said the cook, turning redder. “More than you, I couldn’t possibly!” She tittered a bit. “Oh, I can see why Mr. Darcy favored you, I can.”

  Mrs. Stickley cleared her throat.

  Elizabeth turned to her. “Is something amiss, Mrs. Stickley?”

  “Oh, no, everything is just fine,” said Mrs. Stickley, but she didn’t sound as though she meant it.

  * * *

  “Lizzy!” cried Jane, scurrying across the room to embrace her sister, who hugged her back with gusto. Jane crushed Elizabeth tight and then pulled back to look at her face. “Oh, it has been too long. I have missed you so much. You look just the same, though.”

  “You thought I would have changed?” said Elizabeth, laughing.

  “One never knows what might happen to an old married lady,” said Jane, laughing as well.

  “Now I’m old, am I?”

  “Positively ancient,” said Jane.

  “Then what does that make you, my dear sister, who are older, in truth, than I am?”

  Jane laughed some more. “Oh, but Lizzy dear, I am still unmarried and a fresh maiden. It is not the same.”

  “Indeed it is not. You are young and beautiful yet.” And Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her sister again. She released Jane and then turned to the other members of her party. “You must excuse me for being so effusive. It is only that is has been so long since Jane and I have seen each other.”

  “You should not apologize on my account,” said Miss Thackerey. “I am cheered to see such sisterly affection. It warms my heart.”

  Jane grabbed the hands of Lydia and pulled her close, hugging her as well.

  But Lydia did not embrace her back. She wriggled free. “I say, Jane, you are going to wrinkle my frock.”

  Jane pulled back, humoring her sister. “My sincere apologies, Lydia. And a fine frock it is too.”

  “A discarded one of Miss Darcy’s,” Elizabeth whispered to Jane.

  Ah, that made sense, Jane thought.

  “But we are being so dreadfully rude,” said Elizabeth. “Allow me to make introductions.” And she introduced Georgiana and Miss Thackerey to Jane. Her aunt was not there with them that day. She had run an errand, but would be back soon, and Elizabeth was sorely disappointed to have missed her, or so she said.

  Jane was pleased to have Elizabeth back in town. It had been a long summer, here alone in London. She hadn’t truly been alone, of course. She enjoyed the society of her uncle and aunt and she was quite fond of her young cousins. But she had only had letters from Elizabeth, and she found them all a bit wanting. There was none of the sparkling wit and gaiety that was typically char
acteristic of Elizabeth.

  Also, Jane felt as though her sister was concealing things from her. She was quite descriptive about day-to-day activities in the letters, carefully noting down everything that was undertaken and what was discussed and that sort of thing. But Elizabeth never wrote of her own feelings about anything. Jane could not tell if her sister was miserable or happy.

  She rather thought it was more likely the former. Sometimes people concealed their sadness, but they rarely took pains to conceal joy.

  Jane asked Elizabeth how things were going and how she enjoyed being married to Mr. Darcy.

  “Oh, it is lovely,” said Elizabeth, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Though I daresay I’ve already made an enemy of the housekeeper at our townhouse, and I feel rather wretched about it.”

  “Who? Stickley?” said Miss Thackerey. “Why, she’s the one who tried to make me sleep in the servants’ quarters!”

  “Oh, yes,” spoke up Georgiana suddenly. “I told her there was a room especially for Miss Thackerey, one right next to mine, intended as a governess’s room, but she did not want to use it as such.”

  Elizabeth beamed at Georgiana. “What did you do, Miss Darcy?”

  Jane had gathered from Elizabeth’s letters that Georgiana’s shyness was a bit of a project for them all. Jane could see that Elizabeth was very proud of the girl for having volunteered something, especially such a detailed sentence.

  Georgiana blushed. “Well, I think I had to speak to my brother, actually. He set her to rights.”

  “She fawns over Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Thackerey, rolling her eyes.

  “You are the mistress of the house, Lizzy,” said Lydia, sitting up straight. “You must make her behave. You can’t let her cow you. She is the servant.”

  Elizabeth drew her brows together. “I am not cowed, Lydia.”

  “You were when we arrived,” said Lydia. “She ordered you around and you did whatever she said.”

  Elizabeth folded her hands into her lap. “It was not exactly that way.”

  “Yes, it most certainly was.” Lydia snickered.

  “Lydia,” scolded Jane. “Do not laugh so.”