“First of all,” he had told her, “they will not be able to fully relax and enjoy themselves if I am hovering nearby. Since the purpose of the Festival is to extend our thankfulness in the form of their complete gratification, it would be remiss of us to deter said gratification by creating an atmosphere of unease by our presence. I want them to forget, for a time, that they are servants or employees. Secondly, at the risk of being branded haughty and arrogant, it is unsuitable for us to mingle socially with our servants.” Lizzy had frowned slightly and Darcy had taken her hand. “I know you abhor such distinctions, Elizabeth, and a part of me agrees with you. Nonetheless, it is the world we live in and for all that it may seem unkind or pompous, these class divisions have served our country well for hundreds of years. Even if I wished to alter it, and I in truth cannot say I do, few would follow my lead. Most importantly, our servants and tenants would be the loudest protesters! They are comfortable and well cared for, therefore having no wish to deviate from the status quo.”
Lizzy had assented to his decision, although not wholly agreeing with his assessment of their reception. Tonight, however, as they ambled amongst the people, she had noted clearly the immediate stiffening and mask of formality that fell over each face as they approached. Gazing out over the boisterous, clusters of folk and comparing that with the instantaneous decorum and tenseness that ensued upon the presence of the Darcys, Lizzy finally comprehended. In a strange way, it was the last turn of the key, the final stroke of the axe which severed her old way of thinking and completed her transition into the Mistress of Pemberley.
Now, she happily flopped onto the sofa, suddenly tired and desirous of the solitude found in the shadows. Few lights had been lit, mostly those glowing from inside the parlor, yet the location of the raised terrace offered a panoramic view of the grounds. Darcy dragged a chair over and lifted her feet onto it.
“There,” he said. “Are you comfortable, love?”
“Yes,” she answered with a laugh, “but why the chair?”
“You have been on your feet for hours and the book states that pregnant women's feet can swell.” Lizzy glanced to her perfectly slender and tiny feet but chose not to point the fact out. Darcy continued, “I am going to pour myself a brandy. Do you wish for anything?”
“A small glass of wine would be lovely, thank you, dear.” He kissed her forehead and disappeared into the house. Lizzy sighed contentedly, rising to retrieve several remaining meat rolls and a croissant from the dinner table. Darcy returned shortly and they sat quietly, nibbling and sipping as the revelry persisted.
From their hidden vantage point, they could espy most of what transpired on the dance area. Richard was occupied for each dance, the man apparently tireless. Lizzy had delighted to see him lately in attire other than his military uniform. She adored Richard and thought him a handsome man—naturally not as much as her husband, but a fine figure in any suit. Today, as yesterday, he had dressed casually but nonetheless regally, in snug pantaloons of beige and a jacket of russet and gold. Dr. Penaflor had worn shades of grey with a waistcoat of forest green, all designed to accentuate his exotic darkness. He primarily squired Anne, although careful to accompany every other woman as well. Anne was beautiful in a gown of blue and white, modestly cut but not as severe as the majority of her gowns. Naturally, George drew the most attention in his vibrant fuchsia, dancing with feline grace and refinement. Georgiana appeared to relax with each subsequent turn on the floor, none of the gentlemen allowing her to evade. Even Caroline had apparently relinquished her disdain, as Darcy noted her frequently partnered with each man.
For three hours, Darcy and Lizzy reclined in isolation, happily observing the fun. They talked softly, kissed frequently, and cuddled. On occasion, they were visited by someone from the party, usually seeking brief respite and refreshment, only to be snatched away forthwith by a seeking dance partner. There were enough interruptions for Darcy and Lizzy to curb their improper urges, maintaining a regulated decorum in their mild intimacy.
As the midnight hour approached and the orchestra announced the last two sets, anticipation for the final crescendo to the Festival began to rise. Upon entrance to the party, the Darcys had informed each guest to, if possible, remain until after the dancing as they had a special treat planned. None knew what to expect, but based on the grand exhibitions and entertainments offered thus far, the fever pitch of expectation was high.
The last dance ended to extended applause for the outstanding musicians. Folks wandered about in small groupings, not sure what to expect or where to look. Darcy rose to stand prominently at the terrace railing, Lizzy embraced tightly to his chest, both gazing toward the dark knoll above the Cascade Falls, the intermittent flicker of light visible if one attended to the area. Within fifteen minutes word had spread, folks noting the direction the Darcys were staring and turning to peer curiously upward. A hush fell, everyone holding their breath without consciously realizing it, breaths released in a collective gasp of stunned awe mere seconds later.
With a thunderous boom piercing the calm, a rocket was launched far into the starry black sky, exploding loudly into a brilliant shower of gold sparkles. The crowd erupted into claps of joy, the sound instantly lost amid the next rocket blast, this with a rain of white. For twenty minutes, the combined noise of rocket detonations and cheering ruled as the sky above Pemberley lit up with dazzling shimmers of red, gold, blue, white, orange, and green in dozens of shapes and sizes.
Interspersed with the enchanting aerial displays, the firework technicians hired by the Darcys lit a profusion of ground level pyrotechnics. Dense showers of brightly colored sparks resembled water spewing from fountains; fireworks set on small floats drifted down the Falls as the light reflected off the water; and elaborate sculptured shapes were set aflame with a profusion of color. The shapes were myriad: a rose of red, a horse of gold, the flag of England in red and blue and white, “PEMBERLEY” spelled in orange, a dog in white, and—the masterpiece—an enormous detailed replica of Pemberley Manor in gold.
This last was lit simultaneously with the discharge of a dozen rockets; the resulting illumination was brilliant and bathed the entire grounds in nearly broad-daylight radiance. It was stunning; the assembly was momentarily dumbfounded as silence descended in a crashing wave only to be replaced seconds later by a deafening barrage of clapping and yelling. Reports later received indicated that the colorful lights were seen in Lambton to the east, Baslow to the north, and Rowsley to the south. The satisfying finale was stupendous and would be remembered for decades hence.
Darcy hugged his wife, drawing her again into the shadows and turning her about in his arms. He pressed her into his chest, embracing with intense emotion. Speaking huskily to the top of her head, he said, “Elizabeth, you accomplished all this. You! I am so very proud of you. I am… overwhelmed.” He finished in a whisper, caressing her back as he held tight.
Lizzy melted into his embrace, happy and relieved. Withdrawing only enough to grasp her chin with his palm, Darcy bent to kiss her lips tenderly. Meeting her glittering eyes and smiling, he softly said, “Come, beloved, let us retire. The others can fend for themselves. I want to hold you in my arms and whisper into your beautiful ears my abounding adoration.”
With his arms firmly about her, they ascended the stairs to their chamber where Darcy did precisely as he promised… and more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Solitude
Within a week of the Festival, the secret wish of both Darcys was granted even beyond their wildest dreams. That is, all of their beloved friends and family members vacated the Manor to adventures of their own throughout England, and Darcy and Lizzy were completely and blissfully alone.
On the day following the Festival, an extremely lazy day for all the inhabitants of Pemberley, Charles was the only one who expressed any desire to move beyond the parlor. Everyone was in a particularly mellow mood, the party aftermath ruling with aching feet from dancing, aching heads from drink, and ac
hing stomachs from nonstop eating. While everyone was lying about on comfortable chairs and sofas with needlepoint, books, or letters in hand, Charles spoke into the relative silence.
“Darcy, I believe we shall depart tomorrow if this is agreeable with you. Now that the decision has been made, my Jane and I are anxious to speak with the Bennets and then begin our preparations for relocating.”
Kitty and Georgiana were the only persons in the room whose faces fell in dismay. Darcy laid aside his book with an understanding nod. “Of course, Charles. I understand your eagerness and you know you have my blessing. However, if I may remind you, the Matlocks are joining us for dinner tomorrow and I was imagining that being our last engagement prior to our being parted from the delightful company of you and your lovely wife for several months. Is one additional day at Pemberley too daunting to imagine?” Darcy smiled at his friend, Bingley rapidly assuring him that one day was agreeable.
“Mr. Bingley,” Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke from his relaxing pose near the window, “if you would be willing, I believe Miss de Bourgh and I will accompany you on the road. It is always wiser to travel in groups if possible.”
“Naturally, Colonel, you are welcome. Netherfield is open as well if you or Miss de Bourgh desire a brief respite ere traveling on to Kent.”
“Well, since a caravan is forming, I shall chime in and rudely insinuate myself and Raja to the party,” George declared. His spindly, yellow and cornflower blue garbed frame stretched flat on the rug before the fireplace hearth. “I know Dr. Penaflor wants to keep an eye on his patient and I am sensing the urge to visit my sister.” He sat up, crossing his long legs. “William, I was going to ask permission to stay at Darcy House for a spell before traveling on to Devon. I should warn Estella I am heading her way, at the very least. Perhaps I will even give her more than one day's notice.” He grinned at his nephew, recalling his abrupt appearance in London.
Darcy laughed. “I rather doubt Aunt Estella's consternation would be too severe, Uncle, warning or no, but naturally you may stay at Darcy House as long as you wish, and Dr. Penaflor as well, of course.”
“You will return to Pemberley before you leave England, George?” Lizzy asked, truly concerned.
“Not weary of me yet, Elizabeth?” He smiled fondly, Lizzy emphatically shaking her head. “I am touched!” He stretched his arms above his head with a deep sigh, still gazing at his niece speculatively, “No, I think I shall stick around for a while. I am rather enjoying being decadent and useless, at least for now. Perhaps in a few months I will feel the urge to work for a change, maybe volunteer my services at the hospital in Derby, deliver a baby or two,” he said shrugging and grinning at Lizzy's blush and Darcy's arched brow. “Besides, I deem wild horses could not drag Raja away.”
Dr. Penaflor merely smiled, Anne hastily averting her eyes.
“Then it is settled,” Charles declared with a slap to his knee, “all shall ride to Netherfield, whereupon the final separation will occur. Two days hence.”
Kitty was silently crying. “Oh Lizzy, please can I stay? Please?”
“I am sorry, dear. Mama and Papa need you, too. The quiet in the house is likely driving them mad. Think of poor Papa who only has Mama to keep him company! Besides, you will all visit after the baby is born, perhaps at Christmas.” Darcy winced involuntarily at that thought, but luckily Lizzy did not notice.
With this decision made, the usual bustle of pre-departure activity ensued. The dinner party planned was a simple affair, the Darcys aware that the staff would yet be busy with restoration. They had scheduled the event a week before, knowing it would likely be the last soiree preceding the scattering of their guests. Aside from the imminent exodus of the Pemberley visitors, the Matlocks were also embarking on a month-long tour of Wales with their eldest son, Jonathon, and his wife, Priscilla. Therein came the final surprise.
“William, if I may have a moment of your time?” Lord Matlock lightly clasped his nephew's elbow, indicating the emptiness of the hall. Once alone, he continued, “I know this is rather short notice, but your aunt and I were discussing our trip and Georgiana came to mind. We would very much like to take her with us if this meets your approval?”
Darcy frowned slightly, to be replaced instantly with a smile as it abruptly occurred to him that Georgiana's absence would provide complete privacy for him and Elizabeth. Attempting to not appear the utter lovesick fool, he gruffly cleared his throat and stroked his chin as if deep in serious contemplation. Naturally, Lord Matlock was not the least bit duped, but he played along.
“I know you fret, especially after Ramsgate, but rest assured she will be well chaperoned. Mrs. Annesley can accompany her if you wish, and we will not let her out of our sight. It would be good for her to travel a bit, and she has never been to Wales. Besides, you and Elizabeth have earned some solitude. You shall have precious little once the child arrives. Consider it a belated wedding present or early baby gift to you both.”
Darcy laughed. “Very well, Uncle! The truth is, I need no persuading as it sounds delightful to be alone with my wife. Perhaps it would be wisest to postpone Georgiana's enlightenment until after Miss Kitty departs. It may be too much of a blow to her heart to see Georgie ecstatic when she is so depressed at leaving.”
Therefore, exactly seven days after the Festival, Darcy and Lizzy stood on the Pemberley entryway and waved adieu to a smiling Georgiana. It was very early in the morning, Lizzy rising far earlier than she was becoming accustomed to. Darcy was dressed for riding, in truth having assumed that his wife would not wake to kiss Georgiana goodbye, having said her farewells prior to retiring last night. Now, however, with the house essentially empty and his desirable wife still with a sleepy face and hair hastily pulled back, the thought of walking away from her side even for the thrill of a morning race was unappealing.
The carriage turned the final corner, Lizzy sighing deeply and leaning against Darcy's side with a yawn. “You know, I have all my life considered myself an early riser. Meet the dawn with a smile and all that.” She lifted her eyes to meet Darcy's brilliant ones. “Perhaps my early rising became habit out of a necessity to escape the craziness of Longbourn before it began each day! Here, with you, I find life so peaceful that I do not wish to leave the comfort of our bed and chamber. It is all your fault, you know. Your charms are magnetic, my love. I am not only a hopeless wanton but slothful as well!”
Darcy was smiling happily. “If you are anticipating an apology, I fear I shall disappoint you, beloved. I am perfectly content to wake preceding you and stare at your beauty as you sleep. Furthermore, I live for the opportunity to rouse you with kisses and caresses. As for being wanton, well, I need not address my opinion on that subject surely?”
“No, you do not. In fact,” she glanced about but they were alone, and then reached up to toy with his open collar as she continued, “if you think Parsifal would not be too terribly annoyed with me or heartbroken, perhaps I could induce you to forego your morning excursion for the time being? My wicked mind is suddenly conjuring all sorts of alternate ways for you to work up a healthy sweat.”
Darcy nodded sagely, glittering eyes belying his calm pose. “Do you think the servants would gossip overly if we sprinted up the stairs?”
Lizzy pivoted with a giggle, leading him sedately inside. “Maybe we should maintain proper decorum until the second floor landing, at the least.”
Thus began a lazy pattern that would be embraced for the next several months with few exceptions. It was akin to their first weeks at Pemberley after their marriage, only now they were incredibly bonded and all the shades of newness or discomfort were wholly dissipated. They did, in fact, laze about quite a bit. Naturally, Darcy had a fair amount of work to do, letters to write, and the occasional trip about the estate but nothing terribly time consuming or critical. Aside from his study and the informal dining room, they rarely visited any of the other rooms, and the majority of their time was spent in their chambers.
Darcy, as a
lways, rose with the sun. There was absolutely no doubt that his immediate preference was to wake his wife and make love with the sunrise. On occasion, his hunger was such that he did just that, Lizzy responding with only mild pique before passion flared. However, Darcy was a gentleman and recognized his wife's need to sleep, so usually he kissed her gently, cautiously detaching her body from his as he slipped away. Either a ride followed or quiet paperwork of some sort at the desk in their sitting room. On occasion, he scheduled morning sessions with Mr. Keith to attend to estate affairs. Whatever the case, the bulk of the morning hours were delightfully and rewardingly lapsed in the company of his love.
Despite Lizzy's jesting, she did tend to rise fairly early compared to most women of leisure. Generally she was up and freshened, nibbling on toast or fruit to curb the worst of her stomach pangs, awaiting Darcy's return from whatever endeavor he was tending to that morning. Whether he was sitting at the desk when she rose, or entering the room to discover her placidly reclining in her chair, they greeted each other with eager enthusiasm and bright smiles. Neither desired to part for the remaining hours of the morn and rarely were they forced to.
All appearances to the contrary, they actually accomplished much in the way of real work during those morning hours. Lizzy reapplied herself to learning more of the household management as well as general estate business. As Darcy conducted the ceaseless enterprises that comprised Pemberley's wealth, Lizzy aided him and increased her awareness of the overall organization. She would forever stand in awe of the vast interests and responsibilities that Darcy managed flawlessly and easily. Never would she fully comprehend it all, especially since he was forever shifting their money into other ventures or companies. Always he sought new projects or improved ways to handle an established area. It was mind boggling to Lizzy for the most part, but over time she learned to grasp much of it.
For the present, they planned primarily for the first of Duke Grafton's brood mares, which would be arriving soon, and for their child. Since Lizzy knew basically nothing about the entire world contained within the stables, their morning talks were an enormous education. Darcy explained it all in minute detail. Lizzy, frankly, grasped less than half of what he said, but she loved how he glowed and enthused whenever he spoke of his horses, so she happily allowed him to ramble. She did a tremendous amount of head nodding and mumbled vocalizations of assent, Darcy usually pacing with coiled energy as he spoke and therefore utterly unaware of whether she was understanding or not. A fly on the wall would die of hysterics at the typical scene: Darcy marching with long treads, robe fluttering wildly about his shins, fingers flickering or running through his hair while he prattled jauntily, eyes gleaming and unfocused, while Lizzy sat with a gentle smile on her lips and an expression of intense adoration mingled with dazed incomprehension.
Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley tds-2 Page 39
