by Wells, Linda
“Naturally.” Came her muffled reply.
“I think that she prefers her bed not to be moving, or should I say, not jostling over the ruts in the road.” He kissed her throat and hugged her.
“I think that she prefers your shoulder. I know that I do.” She laughed and he chuckled. “Perhaps the rest of the journey will be better?”
“Hopefully you and I might rest a little.” He smiled. “And we should talk with the Gardiners about travel. We already know what my relations would do, let us hear from yours.”
“Very well.” She sighed.
“We should arrive at the inn soon. Would you like to be left alone?” He asked quietly. “For a little while?”
“No, I have spent enough time unnecessarily alone today. I would like a bath and a bed.” She smiled at him. “I would like to sleep with you.”
“How did you know what I wished your answer would be?”
Elizabeth kissed his nose, and he laughed softly. “Because I know you, and I should have known better.”
“I think that we both could say that, my love.”
“I AM LOOKING FORWARD to seeing the Darcys.” Bingley smiled at Jane. “I can imagine that you are very excited.”
“Yes, I cannot wait to meet my niece.” She smiled at him as they strolled through the park in Gracechurch Street, a maid trailed behind them. “My sister’s letters have been ecstatic, she says that she loves being a mother and that Mr. Darcy is a wonderful father.”
“He was very nervous during the long wait, though.” Bingley chuckled. “I still am amazed that he actually delivered the child.”
“I believe that neither of them wish to dwell on what may have happened.” Jane looked down at her feet. “How is Mrs. Robinson getting along?”
Charles smiled. “I have no idea. My sister’s honeymoon trip is likely to last another week or so, I know that she wished to be back in town for the end of the Season, to display her triumph, such as it is.”
“She is unhappy with her choice?” Jane said worriedly
“No, no, it is not what she expected for herself, but Mr. Robinson does have an estate, even if it is small, and of course, she is disappointed that he remains in trade. Her ambitions were far greater than what she could achieve.”
“So she settled.”
Bingley looked at her thoughtfully. “I do not know if I would say that. Certainly she at last realized what sort of man would be willing to marry her, she did herself no favours last Season with her behaviour, even though Wickham has proven himself to be a blackguard. No, her dowry could not buy her the favour of the society she craved, so she accepted a man who did not mind her history.”
“Does she love him?”
“Love?” Bingley smiled. “No, my sister has never considered love to be an important component in her marriage prospects. She wished to be greater than our mother. By marrying a man with an estate, she has achieved her goal.”
“Is he kind?” Jane whispered.
“I do not fear for her well-being, Miss Bennet. He is ambitious, as she is. He is also not one to suffer foolishness. Success came to him through hard work, he is not weak. I think that they are well-suited.”
“I understand that Mr. Robinson’s estate is the same size as Longbourn.”
“Yes, about two-thousand a year. His true income is from his business.” Bingley tilted his head when she stared down at her hands. “Is something wrong?”
“Do you consider a small estate to be a disappointment?”
“I have no estate at all, Miss Bennet; I am not one to judge.”
“But you have ambitions for something far greater, just as your sister did.” She said steadily. “You also enjoy the attractions of London.”
“I do, very much.” He laughed and looked around him. “I suppose that my roots are more in this neighbourhood than in the one that I occupy at my brother’s tolerance, but over the last year or so, I admit that I am becoming increasingly comfortable in Mayfair.”
“Instead of Cheapside.”
“I am not insulting your family, Miss Bennet.” He creased his brow. “Trade is very much a part of my blood and unlike some who are leaving it to become gentlemen; I will not deny my roots. I do, however, wish to honour my father’s desires.”
“And live as my brother and sister do.”
“Hardly.” He laughed. “I have not, nor can I imagine ever achieving their income, or their property. But I do wish for a substantial estate, and I dearly love the pleasures of town. So in that light, I suppose that I have come to prefer the life that Darcy enjoys.” Seeing her pensive expression, he asked, “Is that wrong?”
“No.” She smiled and shrugged. “Of course not. What are your feelings about family?”
“The one I have or the one I hope for someday?” He sighed. “Well, my sister is settled so I can now relax. My eldest sister’s husband is saved from drowning his sorrows in a bottle so he can relax, and I … I hope for a lovely angel of my own one day.” He smiled at her and she met his smile with her own. “May I ask, what concerns you?”
She looked into his green eyes and let the warmth she always felt in his company to scatter the nagging doubts that were in her mind. “I have none; the life you describe is precisely one that any sensible woman would enjoy. My sister has certainly taken to hers.”
“Ah, but Mr. and Mrs. Darcy will not be the social beings that I and my wife will be.” He looked down at the hand on his arm and back up to her face. “I am no recluse. I envision enjoying the whirl of the Season, then hosting friends in my home. I look forward to parties and balls, hunting and dinners. I look forward to it all.”
Jane nodded, and then turned her gaze ahead. “It sounds as if you plan a wonderful life.”
DARCY TOOK ROSALIE from Elizabeth, then held out his hand to help her from the carriage. Exchanging weary glances, they walked up to the front door. Foster and Mrs. Mercer were waiting for them and other staff members looked on as the little family entered. “Oh Mr. and Mrs. Darcy!” Mrs. Mercer whispered and peeked at the sleeping baby in his arms. “She is precious!”
“Yes, she is.” Elizabeth smiled.
“Congratulations sir, madam.” Foster peeked as well. “It is good to see the next generation arrive, sir.”
“Indeed.” He looked at Elizabeth and she nodded, holding out her arms. “I will be up in a few minutes, love.”
“There is no rush.”
He kissed her cheek and watched her walk up the stairs alone. Foster and Mrs. Mercer exchanged glances.
“Sir, may I get you anything?” Foster asked.
“No, thank you.” He smiled slightly and walked down the hallway to the library and closed the door.
“What is wrong?” Mrs. Mercer asked, and spotting Adams entering behind the footmen with their trunks, accosted him. “Adams! Millie!” He joined them, and introduced Mrs. Robbins. “Is anything wrong? They have always been so happy! Why have they separated?”
“They are fine, now anyway. That first day though …” He looked at Mrs. Robbins and Millie, “Well, let us say that the trip began with no little tension. But the last two days have been better, even if we were enlisted to take turns with the child.”
“That is what we are paid to do, Mr. Adams.” Mrs. Robbins said sternly.
“You are paid for child care.”
“And You are paid for Mr. Darcy’s care.” She reminded him. “Giving him some peace is part of that.”
“I am glad to be in a house again.” Millie squeaked. “And I am going up to care for Mrs. Darcy. Excuse me.” She went up the stairs and the four older servants looked at each other. Mrs. Mercer raised her brows at Adams. “And a child shall lead us.”5
“It is good to be home.” He smiled and started to climb the stairs, then stopped. “I would start some bath water warming, for both of them.”
“One bath?” Mrs. Mercer asked.
Adams laughed. “Prepare for two, and I will be prepared for one.” He turned. “Mrs. Rob
bins, your duty?”
“Very amusing, Adams.” She retorted and followed him.
Mrs. Mercer and Foster watched them go. “Well, it seems to have been a challenging journey, but our honeymoon continues.” Foster said thoughtfully. “I wonder if they will leave the baby at Pemberley next time.”
“I hope that the trip back will not be so difficult.” Mrs. Mercer fretted.
“I have a feeling that they will be remaining in town longer than expected,” he chuckled, “to avoid the trip home. We will hear the entire story tonight.”
Darcy sat in the leather chair next to the unlit fireplace and closed his eyes. He could hear the creaking of the floorboards above him as their things were put away. In the hallway he heard muffled voices, but here in his room, his sanctuary, there was blessed silence. He drew a long deep breath and relaxed, and tried to think of nothing for a half hour. A quiet knock roused him and a maid appeared.
“A bath is prepared for you, sir.” She curtsied and disappeared quickly.
“Ah, that will feel good.” He sighed. “Good man, Adams.” He looked down at his coat; it was not as bad as it had been that first day, but here in this room that smelled of leather and parchment, he stank of urine and milk. “I am tired if I did not rip this all off immediately.” He sighed and looked back at the ceiling, and wondered what Elizabeth was doing, and felt guilty for not going up sooner. She had it far worse than he. Opening the door, he nodded to the servants he passed, and made his way upstairs and into the nursery. Mrs. Robbins and the nursemaids were there, but no Elizabeth. He saw that Rosalie was in her cradle and he touched her before leaving. Elizabeth was not in the mistress’s chambers, not in the master’s chambers, not anywhere. “Where are you?”
He entered their sitting room and there she was scratching away in her journal. Darcy took a seat and watched as her pen flew across the page. He knew it was something that she must have needed to express for some time; they had no opportunities to record their thoughts during the trip. His mind wandered over the possibilities until at last her pen ceased its movement. She read the passage over and her shoulders slumped. Darcy rose to stand behind her and rub the tension away. “Should I read that?”
“If you wish.” She said softly.
“You know that I do.” He bent and kissed her throat.
“Mrs. Darcy, your bath is prepared.” Millie announced and disappeared.
“Excuse me.” She stood and wiped her eyes. “I need to bathe; her napkin was very wet when we arrived.” She drew a shaking breath, and smiled at him.
“Elizabeth …”
“Please Fitzwilliam, just leave me be for a while. I know that you understand.” She left the room and he watched her go, then turning back to her journal, opened the book to the last entry.
6 June 1810
After three long days our journey has at last ended. While it would be perhaps theatrical to compare it to Homer’s Odyssey, the overwhelming exhaustion that has settled over me since at last gaining the quiet peace of our bedchambers can, I think, be comparable to Odysseus’ feelings when at last finding home.
This journey was not so much one of moving from one home to another, as one that I believe will define our marriage. We began at odds, each wanting to satisfy our individual desires, but not taking the time to listen to each other, and understand the reasons behind our vehement stances. We each stubbornly held onto our views, and it took a day of anger and hurt feelings between us, and a daughter who sensed our discord and made it clear that she did not like it, to force us to speak coherently, and at last understand. What fools we were!
I love you, Fitzwilliam. I love your patience and unending desire to care for everyone who is within your reach. I promise to listen to what you are trying to tell me, even when you do not quite know the proper words to make your desires clear. I thank you for understanding me when I become defensive, and I thank you for loving me despite my faults.
Darcy closed his eyes and sat down. “So this is what you think of me? I am a stubborn man who loves deeply and will do anything to care for you.” He wiped a tear that appeared in his eye. “You know me so well.”
Adams appeared. “Sir? Your bath?”
He stood and walked towards his dressing room, pausing to look through the mistress’s chambers to her closed dressing room door, then silently turned and went to bathe and change. When he emerged, he learned that Elizabeth was lying down, and he wondered what to do, her tears were impressed on his memory, and the entire time that he soaked in his bath he wondered over the words of her journal. She asked for some peace. “Adams.” He turned to the valet. “Please inform Millie and Mrs. Robbins that Mrs. Darcy is to be undisturbed. Rosalie is not to be brought to her, and I will speak to Mrs. Mercer about sending her a tray.”
“Yes sir.” He watched his master walk downstairs, and went to locate the other servants and pass on the news.
Elizabeth watched Millie carry in a tray and set it down on the table near the window. “What is this?”
“Mr. Darcy thought that you would prefer to enjoy your solitude this evening, madam.” She lifted the cover to reveal a meal and Elizabeth rose from the bed and looked it over, and raising her hand to her mouth, laughed. Millie curtseyed and noting her mistress’ response, disappeared to report to Adams, who in turn discretely told his master who was alone in his study reading letters. Darcy closed his eyes and sighed with relief, then glanced up at his parents’ portrait. “I am trying, Mother. Women are a mystery.”
Elizabeth shook her head as she inspected the tray, and saw that his journal had been placed prominently in the centre. She picked up the toast spread with her favourite marmalade, took a sip of the chocolate she adored, and laughed softly to see nearly every confection and morsel she had craved during her pregnancy. “You know my weaknesses and are plying me with them, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” Elizabeth whispered, then opening up his journal to the page marked by her lover’s knot, she read his assessment of their trip.
6 June 1810
My dearest Elizabeth has compared our journey to one worthy of the Greek gods. I laugh to think of it in such a way. It was certainly a test of endurance and patience, as well as an opportunity to discover the parts of our individual personalities that lie dormant in the ease of the everyday. Ah yes my love, we are stubborn and caring partners. But that is the key word. We are partners, and because of that, because we choose not to waste time feeling insulted or misunderstood, and because we wish to live our lives together, our love will endure, and can only grow as we do. We may be fools, but I love being your fool, yours alone.
She closed his journal and smiled. “We have grown, I think.” Looking around her empty room, she appreciated the gift of solitude he had offered her, but it was time to be partners again. Writing a little invitation, she rang the bell to have it delivered, and smiling, sat down to watch the clock and see how long it would take for him to arrive.
“YOU LET ME SLEEP!” Elizabeth hurried into the breakfast room the next morning. He raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip, then leaned over to kiss her. “You never let me sleep!”
“Now that is a misstatement. Both of us are early risers.” His eyes twinkled. “Besides we hardly slept all night.”
“I feel as I did the morning after we wed.” She whispered in his ear. “I waddle.”
“And I ache.” Their foreheads touched and she lovingly kissed him. Darcy sighed. “We should fight more often.”
“Fitzwilliam! We have not fought for days.”
“But we did not have the opportunity to make up properly until we were home, so we were still fighting until it was resolved.” He winked at her when she rolled her eyes. “Perhaps we should …”
“What?”
“Hmmm, if I say it we will begin to fight and I do not think that we have time to fall into bed again before we are visited by the residents of Matlock House.” He kissed her again. “But I will hold my thoughts for later.”
“Be sure t
hat you do.” Elizabeth stroked his cheek and popped a bit of a bun into his mouth. “Eat.”
“Hmm.” He looked down at her barely contained bosom. “I know what I would like to drink.”
“Leave some for our daughter, dear.” She sat back and they laughed. “I am glad that we have worked out our plans for travel.”
“I look forward to improving on them, I have some ideas.” Darcy caught her eye. “But not for a few weeks.”
“No, I am in no hurry, I assure you.”
Foster entered the room and quickly hid the smile that appeared when he spotted the still besotted couple. “Sir, Miss Darcy’s luggage has just arrived.”
They exchanged glances. “If her luggage is here, then the family will not be far behind.” Darcy smiled and Elizabeth sighed and turned to the butler.
“Foster, please notify Mrs. Mercer, and have … Well whatever is available brought up for refreshments, we will be in the yellow drawing room. Please ask Mrs. Robbins to bring Rosalie.”
“Yes, madam.” He bowed and left to speak the orders to a footman.
“Well so much for our quiet breakfast.” Darcy sighed and putting down his napkin rose as she did. “The Gardiners are coming for dinner, along with the Matlock group, and I invited Bingley to join us.”
“You did?” Elizabeth took his offered hand and they walked towards the door. “When did this happen?”
“When you were luxuriating in your bath and I was trying not to burst in on you last night, love.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Four days without you are four days too long.”
“You make it sound as if we are like rabbits every night.” Darcy chuckled and she smiled at him. “But I agree that the reunion makes the wait worthwhile.” She leaned against him and they went into the drawing room. The sound of voices downstairs alerted them that the family had arrived. Georgiana led the way inside and hearing where they were, flew up the stairs.
“Georgiana!” Lady Matlock admonished.
“Leave her be, dear.” Lord Matlock grinned. “It has been a very long wait for her and the moment she stepped over that threshold she returned to Darcy’s care.”
