by Wells, Linda
“Of course.” Darcy looked back to his new employee. “Is this clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy. Forgive my surprise.”
“Not at all.” Darcy smiled at Elizabeth. “Is there anything that I can do for you?”
“It is a matter of a personal nature.” She said softly and he saw that her smile had entirely disappeared. Darcy’s brow knit, and he noticed that she held a letter.
He nodded and addressed Conrad. “My wife is in need of my attention, perhaps you might take this opportunity to look over the letter I received from Reverend Evans.”
“Yes, sir.” He looked at his notes.
“I will call for you when we are through.” Darcy said quietly, but the dismissal was clear in his voice.
“Yes, sir.” Conrad stood and bowed, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Lizzy?” Darcy held out his hand and took hers. She responded to the tug and rising, sat in his lap where she wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sob. “Dearest, what is wrong? Is it the letter?”
“Yes.” She sniffed and he rubbed her back. Taking it from her, he opened the paper and read the short note from Layton. “Oh.” He said softly. “Alicia might have lost the baby.”
“She slipped and fell down the stairs.” Elizabeth’s sobs returned and he held her tightly. “Oh Will, how many times did you chase me down when I insisted on walking in the snow? How many times did I fall? How did you ever endure me?”
“Dearest, nothing happened to you, and Alicia will be well. She only twisted her ankle. I imagine that she is just very ungainly.”
“Of course she is.” Resting her head on his shoulder, she tried to relax. “I am sorry, I do not know why I … I read this letter and just needed to see you.”
“I understand, love. We have been talking a great deal about children lately. I imagine that you simply saw yourself in her place.” He whispered. “Please do not cry. The baby is not lost; Alicia will not be like Eva.”
“Eva?” She looked up and he closed his eyes. “Eva lost a baby this way? When?”
“Not by falling. It was to her first husband, a boy.”
“Oh, Will.”
“Dearest you cannot let this overwhelm you, or you will be as nervous as I the next time you are with child. This family can only bear one nervous parent.” Darcy kissed her and they held each other tightly. Resting his forehead on hers, he resumed rubbing her back; then spotted the letter from Harwick on his desk. “Here.” He managed to reach it, and pressed it into her hand. “Read this.”
“I cannot see.” She wiped her eyes and took a shuddering breath. “What is it?”
“It is the joyous announcement of the birth of Master Stewart Harwick.” He smiled a little and blinking back his own emotion, kissed her cheek. “He and Laura are well.”
“Thank heaven.” Elizabeth sighed and burrowed into his arms. “Forgive me for …”
“Nothing.” Darcy whispered.
“TAKE A SEAT MR. CONRAD.” Mrs. Reynolds indicated a chair. “The senior staff takes their meals here.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your help in getting me settled, Mrs. Reynolds.” He sat and nodded to the others around the table. “You are the house steward, I understand?”
Matthews drew a bowl of potatoes towards him and speared a few. “I am.” Pushing the bowl back he laughed, “It is not quite what I thought it would be.”
“Being Mr. Darcy’s secretary is not quite what I expected either.” The two men glanced at each other. “You should be his secretary.”
“I work for Mrs. Darcy and I look after the house. I see that repairs are made, and look after the staff that are involved in its physical upkeep, from collecting rainwater to maintaining the cesspits.” He shrugged. “It leaves Nichols free to worry over the tenants and business of the land.”
“And what of you?” He addressed Bernard. “In my last position, the butler was head of all the staff.”
“I am head of the male staff. And of course I look after the silver, spirits and wine cupboard, and make sure that any and all needs of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy beyond their chambers are met.”
“And you, Mrs. Reynolds?” He said quietly. “You seem to have the most straightforward role.”
“I care for the female staff, and the cleanliness of the house, and I have the keys.” The men around the table chuckled.
“Rather proud of those keys, Missus.” Mr. Green winked at her.
“She who has control over the tea leaves has more power than the one with the key to the port.” Nichols laughed.
Mrs. Reynolds sniffed but looked rather pleased. “I also have seniority.”
“Yes, yes, you have been here since the master was but four.” Nichols rolled his eyes while the men chuckled.
“And you are the wet nurse?” He addressed Mrs. Robbins.
“Yes, and Mrs. Somers is the governess-in-waiting.” Again the room filled with laughter.
“I am quite occupied being companion to Miss Bennet and continuing her education.” Mrs. Somers smiled. “I am certain to have Miss Rosalie under my care before long, though.”
“And I hope to have a new little one under my care before too long.” Mrs. Robbins sighed. “I hope; I have no desire to leave this place.”
“It is the young ones that seek their fortunes in town.” Mrs. Reynolds said disapprovingly and glanced at the girl who was serving them. “Stay in the country, I say, but off they go.”
“Finding a hard time defining your role?” Matthews glanced at Conrad and dug into his plate of food. “Well, it is what you make of it. Mr. Darcy is of an independent bent.”
“And the mistress is not?” Nichols sighed and took a swig from his tankard of ale. “Look Conrad, the master bringing you on is a huge concession to his wife, and an even greater one to what he feels his duties are. He has no desire to turn over responsibility to his servants, he wants to know everything, and is very well-respected by staff, tenants, neighbours and all who are associated with him. He is a good man. You are lucky to have been chosen.”
“I am not suggesting that I am not!” Conrad said defensively.
Nichols held up his palm. “Forgive me, but I have seen him tackle his birthright with great purpose since his father died, and I am very impressed, not to mention admiring how he and Mrs. Darcy have endured everything else that has come their way. I suggest that you observe him, he has a way of hiding things, but watch his face, when his chin is up, he is angry or proud, when his lips are pressed together, he is thinking hard, and when his brow is knit, he is stressed. That is when he needs help.”
“I am to read his mind?” Conrad said incredulously.
“Yes.” They all said in unison.
“He will not ask for aid.” Nichols said simply. “He takes it on himself to the exclusion of others, save his wife. You must anticipate him, and trust me, it is a rare trick when you can, but the pleasure in his expression of praise is worth the effort.”
At last Adams cleared his throat. “Conrad, Mr. Darcy asks that you sort his business correspondence, stay away entirely from his personal letters, write letters for him based on the notations he will leave, accept the intake of income from the tenants, pay the bills, and keep his appointments organized. You are to remind him of details that can easily be forgotten. You will accompany him on occasion to meetings where note-taking would be difficult. Mr. Darcy will always check over your work, so do not take offence, he will not accept anything to do with his estate at face value. Your role is to relieve the everyday burdens so that he and Mrs. Darcy might enjoy their time alone and with their family.” He picked up his knife and fork and looked around at the staff. “Mr. Darcy, as you all will likely agree, is much returned to himself, however I will betray his confidence this one time. His headaches continue, his memory remains slightly impaired, and Mrs. Darcy wants the stress reduced so that he might continue to heal.” Turning back to Conrad he pointed his knife. “Your position is to make damn sure that our ma
ster continues on that path to recovery. If you feel underutilized, then leave, we will take care of them.” With a glance at Millie, he nodded. “Do not ever betray Mrs. Darcy’s confidences. Do not follow my example.”
“I never have betrayed her, sir.” She whispered.
“I know.” He began to eat while the others glanced around at each other. “Will you stay?”
“How can I not? I see before me a staff so loyal to a couple who are half my age, that I feel you would have me drawn and quartered were I to let them down.” Conrad shook his head. “I have never seen the like.”
“Well of course not!” Mrs. Reynolds’ chin rose. “This is Pemberley.”
26 NOVEMBER 1810
I received a letter today from Alicia at last. Fitzwilliam and I wrote to her and Stephen immediately, expressing our worry over her well-being, and were discouraged not to have received any further news since Stephen’s first brief note. Of course now we understand why. Lord and Lady Matlock had departed for London to attend to Richard and Eva during her confinement; and Stephen wished to wait and see what might transpire. He had alerted the midwife and she came to examine Alicia, proclaiming her well, but chastising her severely for falling. If the baby had been lost, Alicia would naturally be blamed for her carelessness. Would they not have enough sadness without that burden? When Fitzwilliam heard my exclamation, I explained to him that whenever a woman miscarries, it is always blamed on her; just as excessive pain during labour is seen as deserved. Fitzwilliam was furious, crying against the wisdom of the so-called educated. Hearing him defend her made me feel so very proud to have him as my husband.
I spoke to our local midwife at church and asked her why my courses have returned, despite my still feeding Rosa, and she said that because we have offered her solid food and I am not feeding her as often, my body is making ready to have another child. We have read of ways to delay pregnancy, and have tried them all, so far successfully, it seems! However, despite our worries and fears, I anticipate our next child greatly. Soon our little girl will be eight months old. She knows her name, now. My dear Fitzwilliam keeps prompting her to say, “Papa.” It will come, love. Patience!
“Patience.” He smiled and closed his eyes. “I suppose that when she begins to speak we will wax fondly on the days when she was silent.” Chuckling, he thought of Elizabeth’s subtle message. “So my love, you are ready to be a mother again.” He drew out the little box containing her hair and caressing the long curl, kissed it before putting it back in place. “Very well, then. We shall see what heaven brings us.” He then set to work writing his entry for the day.
26 November 1810
Conrad and I are gradually becoming used to each other. It is not easy and I am happy to have established him in a small office near the library so that he is no longer sitting in my study. I admit that his daily list of reminders on my desk has become a very welcome addition to my routine. Where I would remember appointments by making notes, Conrad has augmented that to include thoughts that I seem to randomly express as I discuss them. The reminders have been quite useful, surprising even, as I often have no recollection of stating them. As much as I hate to admit it, I needed this aid.
Yes Elizabeth, you were correct, now please dear, stop smirking and think of a proper method of informing this new servant when you have joined me in the study. I have no desire to repeat the scene when he opened the door to find us entwined. Never has my pride shrunk so quickly, and this is from a man who enjoys swimming in the lake! Thank God it was only a kiss he observed, but given time, I would have had you spread over the top of my desk, and would have been enthusiastically working to make us parents again, although admittedly, at that moment, parenthood was hardly the uppermost thought in my mind. Either we lock the door when you come in, or I suggest that you tie another of your admirable love knots to hang on the handle. Perhaps I should have him practice knocking, and I should practice grunting orders to go away while spearing you? Would you like that love? I surely would. Blessed heaven, I feel so much better! We must take advantage of our relative seclusion, Bingley and the Hursts arrive in a matter of days, what say you to a tour of the house, love? How many rooms are there? We may walk with difficulty, and blush incessantly, but I am game if you are!
“Fitzwilliam Darcy!” Elizabeth cried and stared at him with her hand over her mouth. Grinning, he spun around from the writing desk, and wrapping his arms around her waist drew her tightly to him. He rested his chin on her breasts and looked up while his fingers traced over her bottom. “Ninety-two rooms in five days?” She raised her brow. “Your proposal is awe-inspiring, not to mention your stamina.”
Laughing, he kissed her cleavage, then unbuttoning the front of her gown, he began suckling a nipple. “I was thinking of just the public and family rooms.”
“Oh.” She smiled and caressed her fingers through his hair as his nose pressed against her soft flesh, and his twinkling blue eyes looked up at her. “So that brings us down to …half?”
“Hmm. Forty six.” He let go and opened the other side of her gown to suckle the neglected nipple. “Divided by five …”
“I do not see this happening.”
“Perhaps we can make this an adventure, whenever we tire of our guests, we can slip away to check another location from the list.” Darcy chuckled. “I shall put Conrad to work drawing one up for us!”
“Oh my!” Elizabeth laughed and he buried his face between her mounds to blow a raspberry, then looked up to stare at her mouth. “And what explanation will you offer?”
“Hmm.” Licking his lips he studied hers. “You and I are taking an in-depth survey of the …”
“Decoration?”
“Hmm.”
“Warmth?”
“I like that.” He lifted her skirts and ran his hands up and between her legs.
“Comfort?”
“Oh, I so like that.” Unbuttoning his breeches, he helped her to sit astride, and sighing, kissed her lips at last. Darcy smiled and rocked his hips a little as she laughed and rotated hers, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “So I suppose that this room may be left off the list?”
“Oh no, my secretary will likely feel that I forgot it with my addled memory. We will simply have to revisit this place.” They began kissing and moving in earnest when a knock came to the door. Darcy gasped and called out, “Begone!”
A girl squeaked and footsteps were heard running away. Elizabeth dissolved into laughter and Darcy, too far gone to stop, lost his tenuous control within moments, burying his face on her shaking shoulder while he tried to regain his breath and composure. When he lifted his head he was met by her delighted smile. “You need to work on your delivery.”
“My delivery was just fine, love.” He smacked her bottom and groaned when she lifted off then bent to kiss him. With a contented sigh, he stood and fixed his breeches, then took her hand to pull her from the room. “How many more rooms to go? Let’s get cracking!”
Chapter 29
“Do you still love me?” Bingley said with a smile when he released Elizabeth from his embrace. She held his face in her hands, and studied his warm green eyes. They closed when she kissed his cheek. “Of course I do. We all do.” She felt Darcy touch her shoulder and took his hand. He drew her to his side and slipped his hand possessively around her waist. “I cannot wait to hear of your adventures.”
“In the wilds of Ireland!” Bingley noted the glint in Darcy’s eye, despite his welcoming smile, and laughed. “Well, I could go for a taste of that fine port you keep, Darcy. What say you, Hurst?”
“I would be delighted to join you!” He rubbed his arms. “I would be delighted to feel my limbs again!”
The group laughed as Elizabeth and Mary escorted Louisa up the stairs to her chambers and Darcy led the way to his study. “Thank you for allowing my hug, Darcy.” Bingley winked when the men settled into their chairs. “I know that you did not like it.”
“No, I did not. But I also know that it is simply
genuine care for a brother and sister. Besides, I would say that you embraced me nearly as tightly.”
“But in a manly way.” Bingley lift his chin and Hurst snorted.
“I have seen more affection displayed in your foyer today than I have between my entire family in decades.” He lifted his glass and toasted them. “To sentiment.”
Darcy smiled and crossed his legs. “Well, are you finished? Are you prepared to return to society, full of adventures and ready to take on your life?”
“You make it all sound so dramatic, Darcy! We were hunting, fishing, and eating very well. We saw a great many ruined castles, an extraordinary number of sheep,” Darcy chuckled, “and in general, simply enjoyed the scenery. It was a solid and dramatic change from London, and I think it helped me to be comfortable with my own company. I encouraged Hurst and Louisa to go off on their own frequently and I was left to my own devices. I met many fascinating characters, rode over territory that was amazing in its beauty, well, I suppose that I did all of the things that you told me to do, and appreciated this opportunity that will likely never come again once I am settled.” Drawing a deep breath, he sat back in his chair and looked fondly around the room. “I am ready, I believe. I have had enough of wandering aimlessly. Hurst and I were talking about continuing our travels when the weather warms, perhaps moving south and exploring the coast, Ramsgate or Brighton, and at the moment we were speaking, I felt a great deal of enthusiasm for it. After all, Brighton is quite the popular resort.” He shrugged and sighed. “And then we drove into Pemberley.”
“And?” Darcy’s lips twitched and he sipped his drink. “How has my home ruined your plans?”
“That is just it, Darcy. I felt all the relief and comfort of coming home.” He glanced at Hurst. “As much as I appreciate the rooms you lend me in London, I am truly ready to acquire rooms of my very own, where I can …” He glanced at the Pemberley landscape and waved, “Put a picture on the wall and nobody can protest where I place the hook.”
