An Arranged Marriage

by Jan Hahn

  At the end of the number, we both let out relieved sighs. Neither of us had said one word to the other during the entire half hour of the dance. He returned me to Georgiana's side while he went in search of the punch bowl. I politely begged off invitations from several gentlemen who presented themselves before me, and guided Georgiana to the far side of the room where we might sit for a moment. Mr. Darcy soon found us with cups of punch and, naturally, his presence brought more guests to engage us in conversation

  We went into dinner at the appointed hour and Lady Matlock's table was laden with the season's bounty. Turkey, venison, and lamb along with white soup, of course, fall vegetables, and at least three different puddings. Iced cakes were served for dessert, as well as platters heaped with squares of marzipan.

  Caroline Bingley managed to sit upon Mr. Darcy's right and she attempted to monopolize his attention throughout the courses. I found myself at Lord Matlock's left and was fascinated at his knowledge of Hertfordshire. He spent a great part of his youth there on hunting expeditions and he was well acquainted with the countryside. We spent no little time extolling its virtues.

  "Hertfordshire may be a hunter's delight," Caroline interrupted once, "but it cannot compare in beauty with Derbyshire and Pemberley, in particular, is that not correct, Mr. Darcy?"

  "I am somewhat prejudiced," Mr. Darcy said, "so it will not do to ask my opinion."

  "And I suppose you will answer in the opposite," Caroline said, directing the supposition to me. "Or have you even seen Pemberley as of yet?"

  I knew she was fishing to know more of my history with Mr. Darcy. "Not as yet, Miss Bingley, but some of my family has and they assure me Mr. Darcy does not exaggerate its beauty."

  "Your family has visited Pemberley?" She lifted an eyebrow in doubt. "Pray, let me guess which of all your sisters has been so fortunate? Surely not the youngest."

  Before I could answer, Mr. Darcy did so. "My wife's aunt and uncle visited the estate last summer, Miss Bingley. Do you not remember? You were there at the time."

  "No, I do not, sir."

  "Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner dined with us two, perhaps three times, I believe."

  "Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner? The people who reside near Cheapside were your guests at Pemberley?"

  "They were. Yes, now I recall. You and your sister made a side trip to Ashbourne that week to visit your aunt. Forgive me, you were not there after all, so how could I expect you to remember? 'Tis a shame, for they are delightful people. You must meet them sometime."

  Caroline's mouth remained agape much longer than it should have before she was able to respond. "I have met Mrs. Gardiner," she finally said and returned to her plate. She was noticeably quieter for the remainder of the meal.

  The evening progressed with little more to report except that I could not help but notice Georgiana's toe tap to the beat of each number. The child wished to dance ever so much as my younger sisters and I thought it harsh of her brother to forbid it. Toward the end of the evening he had wandered from our presence and was in deep conversation with several acquaintances. Colonel Fitzwilliam had joined Georgiana and me, and he spent no little time teasing her as to how popular she should be once she was out. He often whispered in her ear and caused her to laugh. Once again, I envied their gentle camaraderie.

  "Elizabeth," Georgiana said, "will you excuse me while I freshen up?"

  I nodded and turned back to the crowd to converse with Lady Matlock and yet another of her friends she wished me to meet. When I glanced around sometime later, neither my sister-in-law nor the colonel could be seen. I knew sufficient time had elapsed for her to return and so I began searching the room for her blonde curls. It would not do for Mr. Darcy to discover her absent from my company. I made my way around the perimeter of the ballroom, but she was nowhere to be found. At last I exited the room into the large gallery outside where I stopped in surprise at the sight before me, for there was Georgiana dancing with Colonel Fitzwilliam, the two of them all alone. I could not help but smile, for they made a pretty couple and the colonel was quite adept at maneuvering the steps so that there was no need to change partners as was the custom among the dancers inside. Neither of them saw me and I slipped back inside the doorway so that I would not spoil their fun.

  When the music ended, Fitzwilliam bowed over her hand and kissed it. She laughed gaily and I rejoiced to see her pleasure.

  "Oh, Richard, what fun! May we do it again?"

  "As long as we are not found out, Sprout." He looked up and down the hall. I pulled back even farther so they would not see me, and when the next air began, he embraced her and began the dance. I turned back to the inside room and prayed that Mr. Darcy might still be engrossed in conversation, but it was not to be, for here he came striding across the room straight toward me.

  "Where is Georgiana?" he asked immediately.

  "She excused herself for the moment." I moved to stand between him and the entry to the hallway.

  "Well, shall we take the opportunity and dance this number? I believe it to be the last of the evening."

  Although surprised at his invitation, I nodded quickly, and with an anxious glance over my shoulder, I allowed him to lead me once more to the floor. This time he appeared relaxed, perhaps because the ball was nearly over. He even smiled slightly and his touch was gentle, almost like a caress. I found myself caught up in the beauty of the music, for I loved to dance, and however much he disliked the art, he was skilled in his performance. Suddenly, I wished the dance would never end. Although we did not talk, there was no need for we seemed in harmony, complementing the other perfectly, our bodies in tune with both the music and each other.

  Upon returning home, Georgiana kissed her brother's cheek and thanked him again for allowing her to attend the ball. She then squeezed my hand and ran up the great staircase to her bedchamber.

  "Elizabeth, I am glad you persuaded me to change my mind about Georgiana attending the ball," Mr. Darcy said, as we stood before the fireplace in the drawing room. "I have not seen so much colour in her complexion in months, nor such sparkle in her eyes. One would think she had danced the evening away instead of watching from the side. I did not know it took so little to make her happy."

  He poured glasses of wine for both of us and I accepted mine without response. What could I say? That I had gone against his wishes and allowed her to dance with Fitzwilliam? Truly, there had been no allowance on my part; they had simply done it, but I had not moved to halt its occurrence. Why should I? It was innocent fun in my opinion, no matter what Mr. Darcy thought, and yet I felt a twinge of conscience at deceiving him. When I felt his gaze upon me I wondered if he could read my guilt; instead, I was surprised by his remark.

  "I was right about you. You are good for Georgiana."

  We stood close to each other. I could see gratitude in his eyes and yet, something more, a sort of ease about his countenance that I had not witnessed prior. I resolved not to tell him of Georgiana's dance, for I did not wish his good will or that look in his eyes to vanish or for anything to break the mood.

  He took my hand in his. "I failed to tell you how beautiful you are tonight, Elizabeth. Forgive me." His eyes traveled to my lips and to my eyes and then back again. I could not say a word. I could not even think. He stood so near. I felt mesmerized by his presence and yet intensely alive, conscious only of the intimacy of the moment. How long we remained thus, I know not, but at last he spoke again.

  "Will you not content yourself with mourning ribbons from this day forward?"

  I almost gasped, searching for breath with which to speak. "I shall," I said softly. "I shall."

  He smiled and kissed my hand before releasing it. We then retired for the night, each to our separate rooms, and I was even more aware than usual that we lay sleeping with only a wall and an unlocked heart between us.

  Did I say heart? I meant door. Truly, I did. Indeed, I meant door.

  Chapter 8

  Preparations for the dinner party we were to host the fo
llowing Thursday night consumed much of the coming days. I spent considerable time with Cook in planning the menu; I gave the housekeeper a list of every room that needed to be in pristine condition; I met with the gardener an entire morning, examining and choosing the plants that were still in bloom; and I ordered the best silver polished once again, as well as re-washing of the china. Mr. Darcy's house was kept in perfect order, but still I persisted in ordering extra care and attention, as I found myself nervous and yet excited at the prospect of presiding over my first table. I truly desired Mr. Darcy's good opinion of me in this endeavor, a desire I found surprising, uncomfortable and disquieting. I even went to him for approval of the seating plan I had worked out.

  "Shall Lady Matlock take offense at having Mr. Gardiner seated so nearby? Shall I place my aunt and uncle in lower positions at the table?"

  "Hmm," Mr. Darcy said, "I see nothing wrong with your plan, other than the fact that Miss Bingley sits next to Colonel Fitzwilliam. That may cause offense on his part."

  He said these words with a smile and I joined him with one of my own. I immediately moved Miss Bingley next to Mr. Gardiner and we both burst out laughing at the thought of her reaction to such a slight.

  "No, no, Elizabeth, you must not inflict her on Mr. Gardiner. I think too highly of the man. Here, move her next to Mr. Hurst, for he is far too occupied with his plate and drink to be aware of who sits next to him."

  We laughed again at the absurdity of it all and I felt an ease in his presence I had never experienced before. This newly found atmosphere persisted throughout the week and it spilled over into every occasion upon which we were together. I discovered that Mr. Darcy could charm when he wished. We spent at least two evenings listening to Georgiana play and sing for us and on another night Mr. Darcy read to us from his latest acquisition, a copy of Coleridge's lectures on literature and philosophy. I was amazed that not a single word of dissension had passed between us since the night of Lord Matlock's ball. What had caused this transformation? Surely it could not be just the absence of my mourning clothes, could it? No, that would afford my appearance far too great a power; however, I was surprised to find that when I donned lighter colours, my entire mood lightened and I flattered myself that perchance my outlook influenced his as well, at least a little.

  I followed through on my resolve not to reveal Georgiana's transgression at the ball to her brother, for I did not wish to cause any conflict between them or draw his wrath upon me for concealing it. I did confess to my sister-in-law, however, that I had seen her dance with her cousin in the great hall at Eden Park.

  Her eyes grew large with fear at my words. "And have you told Wills?"

  I shook my head and could see the relief upon her countenance. "That does not mean that I condone your disobedience, Georgiana."

  "I suppose it was wrong of me to go against Wills, but I so wanted to dance, and Colonel Fitzwilliam is my guardian, also. I cannot see that I behaved so badly if he approved."

  "You are very close to the colonel, are you not?"

  "I adore him," she answered, her eyes aglow. "I always have. He is the kindest of men. Next to Wills, I think I love him more than anyone else in the world."

  "You are fortunate."

  "Yes, I am, but you are as well, Elizabeth."

  "Oh? Do I enjoy Colonel Fitzwilliam's favour?"

  "Of course you do, but you mistake my meaning. You are married to my brother and he is the best of men. I am sure you could not find a better husband in the land."

  "Ah, yes." I turned away and busied myself with rearranging a vase of already perfectly arranged flowers.

  But Georgiana persisted. "Tell me, what is it like to be married? Is it so different from one's solitary state?"

  I felt myself blush and kept my face averted. "I fear that I do not understand your question."

  "I mean...do you feel differently?"

  "Feel differently?".

  "Yes, once you are married, do you feel more sure of yourself? Do you develop more confidence, or have you always possessed such nature?"

  I let out a sigh, closing my eyes with relief that Georgiana was not asking me the personal question I had presumed. "Actually, my feelings are not that altered. I suppose I have been cursed with too much confidence all my life. At least, that is what my mother would tell you."

  "Oh, no, I should never call it cursed, but rather blessed. I would give anything to be as self-assured as you are, never to fear others' judgment or censure, to know in myself that I am correct in whatever I do."

  I walked to her side and sat beside her on the couch. "Oh, my dear, believe me, I am not that confident. I, too, have fears and doubts about my abilities."

  "But you never show them, Elizabeth. You appear in control."

  "It is a good act, Georgiana, one I have perfected. Consider this dinner party I am planning. I am quite concerned that I get it right, that I do not embarrass Mr. Darcy in any way."

  "You could never do that, for he has the highest regard for you."

  "Does he?" I looked into her eyes, searching for the assurance she felt.

  "Oh, yes. Wills would never have married you if he did not."

  I looked away then, reflecting on my sister-in-law's simple conclusion, her total ignorance of the facts. Had she known the true nature of our arrangement, she would not have spoken of his regard with such concreteness. She would have wondered about the truth of his feelings for me, but not nearly so much as I did.

  On Wednesday, the day before the anticipated party, I did not see Mr. Darcy at all. Adams informed me that he had left the house before breakfast and would be at his solicitor's office for much of the day. I thought nothing of it, as Mr. Darcy did not discuss his business affairs with me, and I had a long list of duties awaiting my attention. Georgiana accompanied me on my morning calls; during the afternoon while I checked with the steward on the wines to be served, I heard her practice the pianoforte, for she had agreed to play for our guests after dinner. The day was full and I did not notice Mr. Darcy's absence until the hour arrived for our evening meal and yet he still had not returned. That did surprise me for it was quite unusual. Georgiana and I eventually sat down to eat without him and passed the evening reading. We both looked up several times, anticipating his arrival, but when the clock sounded ten bells, we retired to our chambers.

  Fiona had just unpinned my hair and brushed through the curls when he knocked on the door adjoining our rooms. She opened the door and then vanished with the wave of his hand. I watched him walk into the room, my surprise evident. He was still dressed in daytime garb, obviously just arrived, having shed only his coat and hat. I stood in greeting and pulled my robe close around my figure.

  "Elizabeth, forgive me for intruding so late in the evening."

  "Of course. Will you not sit down?"

  "No." He strode across the room and paced back and forth. "I have a pressing task for you. Cancel the dinner party for tomorrow night. Write to each of our invited guests this very evening and inform them of our regrets. Say that urgent business calls us back to Pemberley. Then see that Fiona packs your trunks so that you and Georgiana may leave by first light. I have already directed my sister's maid to prepare her things."

  "But why? I do not understand."

  "I do not have time for explanations. Just do as I say and with all haste. Do you understand, Elizabeth? I demand that you carry out my orders with strict compliance."

  I felt vexation rise in my throat. "And are you coming with us?"

  "No." Without further word or allowance of questions, Mr. Darcy strode from the room, firmly closing the door between us.

  I was speechless! How dare he demand this of me, cancel all my carefully laid plans with a curt word of dismissal, and not deem me worthy of an explanation! Did I not merit any more value in his eyes than a servant? With his evacuation of my bedchamber, all of the recent goodwill between us disappeared like a cup of water poured out on parched ground. I paced the floor in the exact pattern he
had not five minutes before, my previous doubts and fears descending upon me with a vengeance. How could he treat me in such manner? He was as arrogant, as uncivil, as brash in his conduct as he had ever been.

  How long I persisted in my anger, I know not, but Fiona interrupted by lightly tapping at the door opening into the hallway. When I granted her entrance, she quietly went about her duties, hauling out my trunks and emptying the drawers and armoires of my belongings. Obviously, Mr. Darcy had already informed her that we were leaving. My first inclination was to question her and ascertain whether she knew the reason for our banishment from London, but I thought better of it, not wishing a servant to know how angry I was nor how humiliated I felt by a man who professed to be my husband. I sat down and began to write the notes of regret to my aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Matlock, the Bingleys and Hursts, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. I confess that I had to discard the first two notes because tears of rage soiled them. I balled them up and threw them into the fire. Digging my fists into my eyes, I willed myself to cease crying, for I did not want Fiona to witness my distress.

  All my work had been for nothing, all my plans a needless exercise. What could be so important that our departure for Pemberley could not be delayed by at least one day? And why could not Mr. Darcy confide the reason in me? No, I was not his confidante. How could I ever have dreamt I might be? In truth, I was not his wife, but only a figurehead. I played the part, hostess when he desired it and banished non-person when it struck his fancy. His tender words the night of Lord Matlock's ball must have been nothing more than pretense, his affability this week a sham, for now he discarded me with a single command without the barest courtesy of an explanation.

  "Will there be anything more, Ma'am?"

  I turned from my writing and saw the trunks lined up against the wall.

  "I left your traveling clothes in the armoire, Ma'am, and your toiletries I will pack in the morning after you are dressed."