Rose Cottage

Home > Other > Rose Cottage > Page 10
Rose Cottage Page 10

by A K Madison


  Mary managed to communicate to Darcy a wry smile and an eye roll, while Lydia said nothing and looked bored. Mr. Emerson was ancient—why, his clothes were as old as she was. And neither of the two gentlemen was wearing a red coat.

  Darcy, seeing Emerson’s silent assent, answered for them both. “We will be honored to join you, Mrs. Bennet. It is kind of you to invite us. May we escort you home in the carriage?”

  “Tis but four minutes’ walk from here, Mr. Darcy. Send your carriage back to Netherfield with a message for Charles and have them return for you at about three. We can enjoy the walk to Longbourn in this lovely sunshine.”

  The carriage was dispatched, and Mrs. Bennet accepted Mr. Emerson’s arm, leaving Darcy to escort both daughters. She immediately began extoling the virtues of her girls. Elizabeth’s intelligence and wit, Mary’s musical gifts, Kitty’s artistic accomplishments, and Lydia’s vivacity were all praised to the very heavens. Mr. Emerson had only to nod, while Darcy walked in silence, a sister on each arm.

  The walk was, indeed, of only four or five minutes’ duration, and when they reached the house, Mrs. Bennet stopped to confer with Hill while Mary led the way through the front drawing-room. They found Elizabeth and Kitty in the family parlor, where Elizabeth lay beneath a shawl on the sofa reading while Kitty drew at the round table. The latter made haste to clear away her things while Elizabeth smiled agreeably at the visitors.

  Darcy navigated them smoothly through the introductions before placing a chair near Elizabeth’s sofa. Emerson, quickly catching on, chatted amiably with the other young ladies. It was plain to him that Darcy and Miss Bennet might be thinking of making a match. Emerson’s impressions of the younger Bennet sisters were varied. Lydia was full young, and, he thought, unattractively bold. It was clear to him that she had been brought out far too early. Catherine was older, but he thought her somewhat lacking in self-assurance. Mary, on the other hand, had some substance to her despite the fact that she had deliberately made herself plain.

  Mrs. Bennet entered in a flutter, and the talk turned to Rose Cottage. “I find myself almost looking forward to making the move,” she said. “Longbourn has been my home for many years, but there are memories everywhere I turn. And the challenge of restoring Rose Cottage to its former glory is most interesting. The garden itself could keep one pleasantly occupied for years.” She regarded Emerson with an inquiring smile. “And where will you be residing, sir?”

  “We have not yet discussed that, Mrs. Bennet. Any cottage would be fine with me, so long as it has space for an office. As a single man, my requirements are simple.”

  At this, Mrs. Bennet was silent, perhaps calculating how best to proceed. The conversation was saved from any awkwardness by the arrival of Mrs. Hill to announce that dinner was served. James, the footman, had been called to assist Elizabeth.

  Faint heart never won fair lady, and Darcy stood immediately. “Miss Bennet, I should be happy to assist you into the dining room.” At her amused nod, he indicated that the others should precede them, and bent down to pick up Elizabeth, taking his place at the rear of their little parade. Emerson gallantly escorted Mrs. Bennet, leaving the three girls to take care of themselves.

  Though Darcy was the soul of propriety, Elizabeth could feel every separate, individual point where their bodies touched. A stray lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, and she longed to tuck it back into place. She wanted to tighten her arms around his neck. She wanted him to tighten his arms around her. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, and when she looked at Darcy, she thought the solemn, aloof look had returned. Then he smiled, and she realized again that she was seeing something else in his eyes.

  Mr. Emerson had pulled out her chair and was standing behind it as Darcy set her down carefully. Mary placed the footstool, and she was settled. Mrs. Bennet’s seating arrangements would have appeared unusual, but they made perfect sense, for each eligible gentleman was placed between two of her daughters. Mrs. Bennet always set a good table, and even though the meal consisted of cold dishes, it was excellent. The talk turned again to Rose Cottage.

  “I expect the house will be completely under roof by midweek, Mrs. Bennet,” said Darcy. “Men will begin work inside tomorrow to prepare for the repairs and finishing of the rooms. In fact, it is time for you to select the colors you require for the walls.”

  “I shall write to my sister Gardiner in London, sir. She has an excellent paint man who will send me as many samples as I wish.”

  “Are we not to have wallpaper, Mama? All the finest houses do.” Lydia looked over at her mother and frowned.

  “No indeed, child. It would be completely out of keeping for a home of that nature. In fact, I shall be searching for the perfect shade of light cream for the walls. Nothing too pretentious. The woodwork will speak for itself, dear.”

  Elizabeth and Mary regarded their mother in amazement. She had never been noted for her lack of pretension.

  “And what ails you, Miss Lizzy?” asked Mrs. Bennet with some asperity.

  “Oh, nothing, Mama. I am thinking you should write to Uncle Gardiner about having those carpets properly cleaned.”

  “Indeed, you are right, child. I will write to him tomorrow.” She smiled almost beatifically. “I cannot tell you how much good it will do me to entertain Lady Lucas on silken rugs from the Orient.”

  “I must say, I am impressed with the work already accomplished in the garden, ma’am. Flower-gardens are not my area of expertise, but Mr. Darcy’s head-gardener seems to have the landscaping well in hand.”

  “Yes, we are all anxious to see his plan for the garden begin to come to life,” replied Mrs. Bennet. “Mr. Darcy, what was decided about the kitchen-garden?”

  “Hobbs says that there is ample room for a vegetable plot, culinary herbs, and a kitchen-yard suitable for such activities as hanging laundry. He is having the area near the well paved with flagstones, and sheds have been built for both garden tools and firewood. Other necessary outbuildings will be properly constructed as needed.”

  Talk turned to other matters, but Elizabeth and Darcy remained quiet. Elizabeth ventured sidelong glances and veiled looks. She observed that Darcy’s look of disapproval, or what she had considered disapproval, had many dimensions and communicated many things, none of which were really disapproval. She reproached herself inwardly for deceiving herself for all those months. As with the day before, Darcy’s thoughts and motives were much simpler. He simply wished to win more of her smiles. He wondered when she would be well enough to walk outside again.

  “Miss Bennet,” he finally managed. “Have you any indication from the apothecary of when you will be able to venture into the garden?” He hastened to add, “Of course you would not wish to rush matters.”

  “He said that when I could wear my half-boots again, I might go outside with some assistance. I believe that will be tomorrow, sir. I am wearing my own shoes today with no discomfort.”

  “Do not rush, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet. “The last thing we need is for you to fall again.”

  Elizabeth knew well how to get around her mother. “Of course, you are right, Mama. But neither do I wish to lie about the house when I am capable of walking. It has been my experience that ladies who do that grow weak, and it takes them much longer to recover their strength.”

  “Well, you have always been a great walker, and you will be needed when we are ready to move. I suppose you can be trusted not to take off running.”

  Darcy faced a dilemma. Should he ask his question right here at the table in front of everyone, or should he wait to see if he could steal a few seconds alone with her? Mrs. Bennet solved the problem by rising, indicating that they would take their tea in the family parlor so that Elizabeth might make herself comfortable again. Darcy soon had her settled in his arms for the return journey to the parlor.

  “Miss Bennet,” I should be honored to assist you on your first walk tomorrow, he began. “At what time were you planning to go out?”

 
“I had thought about half-past ten. You would be most welcome.”

  Darcy gave her a slow, pleased smile. “I shall look forward to it. I am certain Sirdar will as well. He has looked for you yesterday and this morning.”

  “I miss him, too. Such a kind, gentlemanly, and handsome horse he is.”

  “I will tell him so. He will be pleased to know you think so well of him.” Darcy settled her on her couch and brought her a cup of tea. Mrs. Bennet, whose opinion of Mr. Darcy had been improving, decided to leave them alone and began to direct the conversation of the others away from them.

  Before long, the carriage was announced, and the two gentlemen from Netherfield stood up to take their leave. As they began their short ride home, Mr. Emerson pronounced the Bennets “a delightful family” and remarked that all of the Bennet ladies, Mrs. Bennet included, seemed to be “very agreeable company.”

  Darcy believed that Mrs. Bennet might have improved after her terrible loss. He reproached himself for such an unkind thought, but despite her tantrum after Elizabeth’s accident, she did seem to show marked improvement in her manner and even in the tone of her voice. He wondered if having the productive, important tasks associated with Rose Cottage might have been the source of her improvement.

  Mr. Emerson interrupted his thoughts with a question concerning work that would be required on the tenant cottages at Netherfield, and they occupied themselves with discussions of the estate until the carriage drew up in front of the door.

  * * *

  Monday morning, Darcy was up betimes and down to breakfast before the Bingleys were stirring. He found Mr. Emerson there before him, buried behind a newspaper. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. I should have taken you for an early riser. A farmer’s work is never done, eh?”

  “Even when I am from home, I cannot develop a taste for sleeping in,” replied Darcy, filling his plate from the sideboard. “This morning my first waking thought—well, almost my first waking thought—was of the spring lambs. I have an excellent steward in Mr. Harold Sedgewick, and my chief shepherd is a master of his work. Still, I shall write to Mr. Sedgewick today just to inquire how they are all faring.”

  “Yes, this is certainly the time. It has always interested me that while we celebrate the nativity of Our Lord in December, shepherds are usually abiding in the fields in late winter taking care of the spring lambs.” He shook his head. “Your Derbyshire sheep must produce a fine crop of English wool.”

  “I would venture to say it is among the finest, sir.”

  Emerson smiled. “Yet I am not entirely convinced that sheep and shepherds and wool are uppermost in your mind this morning.”

  Darcy had two choices. He hardly knew this man, yet he instinctively liked him. He could raise a cold eyebrow and put Emerson in his place, thereby losing a possible friend. Or he could relax and say something agreeably vague. He raised an eyebrow, smiled slightly, and said, “You are correct, sir. My mind was far more agreeably engaged. However, it is presently too soon to tell.”

  “Ah, then my lips are sealed. However, my father always said that faint heart never won fair maiden.”

  “It is interesting you should say that. I was just thinking of it yesterday.”

  With that, both men fell to their breakfasts and ate heartily. When they left the breakfast room together, they shook hands. Darcy said, “I am unsure when I will be back. Please do me the favor of not mentioning our conversation this morning.”

  “You have my word on it, sir. I wish you luck.”

  Darcy had Sirdar brought around and found himself arriving at Longbourn at precisely half-past ten. He asked the lad who came to take the horse to stand with him near the front door. He found Elizabeth putting on her cloak. Mrs. Bennet hovered nearby, but there was no sign of the other girls.

  “It is very kind of you to take Elizabeth for her walk, Mr. Darcy. I know you will not permit her to overexert herself. Lizzy, twenty minutes. A half-hour at the outside. I shall be in the parlor.” Mrs. Bennet had a reputation for being foolish, but when it came to her daughters, she could be astute. She had just sent a clear signal that while she was willing to permit the couple a brief, solitary walk, she would be stationed in a room with windows overlooking the garden.

  “Yes, Mama.” Elizabeth drew on her gloves, smiled at Darcy, and took his offered arm. She seemed sure-footed and walked with only a slight limp.

  “I have brought a friend,” he said as they left by the front door. “He does not do well in houses, but I believe he will be happy to see you.”

  Indeed, Elizabeth could hear Sirdar’s welcoming nicker as they stepped on the porch. He nuzzled her gently, accepting her attentions to his neck and the spot between his ears, requesting one more head-rub, and then accepting and enjoying the apple she offered. Darcy was amused, and somewhat touched, to see that the entire communication between the woman and the horse had been carried out without words.

  As he and Elizabeth began their slow, careful progress across the garden, she said, “Tell me, does Sirdar have a lady among his own kind?”

  “Well, Sirdar’s existence has been much more serene since he has become celibate. However, he does have one child, a filly, now three years old. She is a lovely creature. Her dam, a chestnut, is also a beautiful horse, and very sprightly. The mare would, in my opinion, be a perfect horse for a spirited lady. Georgiana has already claimed the filly for her own, and the mare graces our stables for visitors who might enjoy riding her.” They walked on in silence until Darcy said, “How is your ankle? You seem to be walking comfortably.”

  “I am doing very well, thank you. Very little discomfort, and it does not feel especially weak. I shall be glad to sit down for a few minutes when we reach the bench.”

  They walked on in a comfortable silence, and Darcy guided her to a bench a little to the side of the parlor windows. It was situated beneath a large tree, and when the tree had its summer leaves, the bench would be quite invisible. As it was, it was somewhat difficult to see from the parlor.”

  “Ah. You have discovered papa’s secret bench.” Elizabeth seated herself gratefully upon it, leaving room for Darcy beside her. “In summer, this bench is completely hidden from the house. It was papa’s favorite place to sit in the garden.”

  “I hope I have not brought you sorrow by choosing this spot. Your father’s passing is very recent, Miss Bennet.”

  “Indeed, you have not. It is a pleasant, happy memory. And you must agree, the bench is delightfully situated.” She smiled up at him, then grew serious. “Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to thank you for all that you have done, all that you are doing, for my family. You came upon us in our hour of deepest sorrow and need, and you have brought all your skill, all your kindness, and all your generosity to bear on our troubles. You have done this out of the goodness of your heart, and I am profoundly grateful to you.”

  “Miss Bennet, much as I like and admire your mother and all your sisters, and much as I honor the memory of your father, I believe I thought only of you. I could not bear to see the woman—the only woman I will ever love, bowed down by the burdens that I knew would fall upon your shoulders.”

  Darcy’s gaze on her was now a completely open book, and as she returned that gaze, all she could see was love. She was silent as he continued.

  “Miss Bennet, you are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word on this subject will silence me forever.”

  Elizabeth smiled at him, then looked away in embarrassment. “My sister Jane has taken great care to acquaint me with just how badly I misjudged you. Yet she did not have to take the trouble, for your actions have spoken louder than any words ever could. I am astonished that you would wish to have anything to do with me after my behavior, but my own feelings have turned around completely.” Here she stopped and blushed, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. “I am sorry I treated you so harshly.”

  “It was no mo
re than what I deserved. My proposal was unbelievably boorish and self-centered.”

  Elizabeth smiled at him. “Mr. Darcy, we could spend the rest of our lives debating which one of us deserved the greater share of the guilt, and I can predict we would never reach a conclusion. Each one of us would be demanding our own share of the recriminations. I suggest an alternative. Let us remember the past only as it gives us pleasure.”

  “Then you will consent to be my wife?”

  “I will be honored to be your wife.”

  “I must speak to your mother.”

  “Yes, you must. But must you do it right now?” Darcy had removed his hat, and as she looked over at him, she saw that same irresistible stray lock of hair she had seen the day before. This time she removed her gloves, and with her finger, touched and tucked the curl back among its fellows. “Soft,” she murmured, and Darcy closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, it was with a look so tender it quite took her breath away. He cupped his hand beneath her chin and brushed her lips gently with his own in a kiss that felt like butterflies—all the way to her toes. She did her best to return the kiss and then said, “My very first kiss. I must memorize it.”

  “Your very first?”

  “Well, I am assuming that papa and my uncles do not count. Nor do the little Gardiner cousins.” She smiled. “Aside from them, yes. Yours is my very first kiss, and I shall remember it always.”

  “I could stay here and kiss you all day.” Darcy’s voice was gentle, and he took her bare hand in his own. “But I really do need to go and speak with your mother. How is she likely to receive such a visit?”

  “My mother? She will be delighted. You must forgive her if she begins to prate of carriages and pin-money. But Mr. Darcy, I fear we must endure a long engagement. I will not be able to marry until I see my mother and sisters settled at Rose Cottage.”

  “First of all, would you call me by my Christian name? I have longed to hear you say it, and no one uses it since my mother died. And second, I would wait a lifetime for you. Three months will go by in no time, and I plan to spend most of it here at Netherfield helping to see your family well settled and comfortable. We can do that side by side.”

 

‹ Prev