by Kate Bedlow
“Only five minutes’ walk away.”
“If I had not interfered…”
“You cannot think that way.” Elizabeth kissed his cheek. “You weren’t to know the future. Even I, who wanted Drake for Georgie, know that you cared only for her happiness.” She lowered her eyes. “Be glad she has the opportunity to be happy.”
“What do you mean?”
“At least Georgiana can marry. I have been thinking of poor Morton. Since Twelfth Night, she has lost her luster. I am afraid she really does love Garrett.”
“Perhaps they should engage in a dalliance.”
“Fitzwilliam!”
Her shock was too delicious, and he could not resist teasing her further. “All servants do, from time to time.”
“Surely not all. Not Mrs. Reynolds—or Mrs. White.”
“No.” The thought was disconcerting.
“And yet I am sad to think of Morton being lonely.”
“You are tenderhearted, Elizabeth, and I love you for it. But this is not America. No one is bound to Pemberley. Morton chooses to be your maid. With marriage comes children, and a woman cannot have children and be a maid. She would have to be two people at the same time.”
“George Wickham’s father married, obviously.”
“That is different. Wickham was my father’s steward, and a gentleman. And his wife was no one’s maid.”
“Perhaps you should make Garrett your steward. Then he would be a gentleman and could marry Morton.”
“Can you see Garrett in a cravat?”
“I can, easily. An embroidered waistcoat as well.” Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled. “Let Lydia have a go at him—she turned him into an impressive Mark Antony. And besides, you must agree that Garrett is a gentleman by education and character. It would be a noble thing to make it so by fortune and position, and it is in your power to do so.”
“Very well. You have convinced me.” Darcy kissed Elizabeth’s forehead. “I shall offer him the stewardship again tomorrow, and he will have Orange Blossom Cottage, for Mr. Bonney is to be given the Lambton living.”
“You certainly seem to have given this some thought. Why, Mr. Darcy! I do believe you have been teasing me this entire time. You knew what you were going to do before you climbed into my bed tonight.”
“Perhaps I did, Mrs. Darcy.” He kissed both Elizabeth’s cheeks, then her hands, then her lips. “But I learned years ago to give you credit for all my best ideas.”
“You insufferable, clever man!”
He kissed her properly then, and she rewarded him by pulling away, her eyes wide. “Oh!”
“What is it?” His heart was in his throat. “Elizabeth, tell me!”
She only giggled and took hold of one of his hands and placed it on her stomach. The baby kicked his palm. It was a miracle how such a strange sensation could fill him with joy and anchor him to what really mattered—love.
And love grew in many gardens. Desire was merely one of the countless seeds in love’s countless gardens. Mutual respect was another. Or friendship. Or merely an emotionless decision to join two esteemed families—yes, love could grow from even such a cold start, as it had with his father and mother.
Georgiana and Kett would grow their own love together, and he had no doubt all would be well with the world.
Chapter 28
The next day a little after one o’clock, two groomsmen brought Oliphant and Pandora round from the stables for Darcy and Garrett’s tour of the estate. They would visit one or two farmers, stop by the chandlery and perhaps the farrier. On their return, he would put it to Garrett that it was long past time Pemberley had a proper steward.
Before they could mount the horses, a very fine carriage that looked newly built rolled into the courtyard followed by a hired wagon loaded with various trunks and boxes. On horseback, Quartermaine accompanied the two-vehicle caravan.
“A marvelous day, is it not?” Darcy’s cousin dismounted gracefully and tossed the reins to a groom.
Garrett held back, and Darcy joined Quartermaine at the carriage as Elizabeth and Georgiana came out to greet the new arrivals.
“Is not this carriage fine?” Lydia popped out and allowed Quartermaine to hand her down. She was followed by Mary. “And the matched four! It is Mary’s wedding present from her husband.”
“How marvelous!” cried Elizabeth.
“A traveling chariot was a practical gift, I assure you,” Quartermaine said. “I see many trips to Derbyshire and Hertfordshire in Mrs. Quartermaine’s future.”
“Mrs. Quartermaine! La, does that not sound fine?”
“Very fine indeed,” Georgiana said.
“Now Georgie,” Lydia continued, “do have the footmen take all those boxes up to your rooms. Not even two days! We shall have not a moment to spare.”
Darcy looked at Elizabeth, and this time he was the one to roll his eyes. How his life had changed these past few years! At one time, Lydia’s exuberance bothered him to no end. Later he found her useful for her friendship with his sister. Now, he was beginning to find her charming in her own right.
Darcy said to his cousin, “It was good of you to escort Lydia and my sister’s wedding clothes from London.”
“No trouble at all. Mary got a bit of shopping in herself. The ladies can never have too many fans and stockings.” Quartermaine’s smile was more content than ever. Married life apparently agreed with him. “Is anyone else here? Richard or Charles?”
“They will arrive tomorrow, along with Jane and Caroline.”
In Darcy’s day (what, a mere four years ago?) only close family, if that, would attend weddings, and even then only if witnesses were needed. It seemed all the fashion now to fill the church. Even neighbors and slight acquaintances felt snubbed if they were not invited.
“You had the right idea, Quartermaine. Only obtain a license and have the thing done with.”
“That was Mary’s doing.” Quartermaine winked at his wife. “I wanted the whole world to share in my happiness. I think Kett has it right. Where is he, by the way?”
“Gone to Somersea Hall to ensure all is prepared for his absence during his wedding trip. He and Georgiana are to visit Paris.”
“La, Paris!” Lydia swooned as she gave Georgiana an enthusiastic hug. “I still cannot believe it! I am green with envy.”
Envy was not the word Darcy would have used. He believed the idea was more Kett’s than his sister’s. “I am assured France is safe enough these days, what with the Coalition armies securing the country.”
Elizabeth and Georgiana took the others inside, and Darcy and Garrett set out. Pemberley was too large to survey thoroughly in a day, or even two or three, and by the time they had visited the places on Darcy’s mental list it was twilight. Passing Orange Blossom Cottage on their return to the great house, he put forward his proposal.
“I am getting old, Garrett. Since my marriage, I have had no desire to engage in the adventures of my youth. These days I think of nothing but being at Pemberley with my wife and daughter and the child to come.”
Garrett smiled. “I always thought you would travel, see the Sandwich Islands or Egypt once before you truly settled.”
“I am no sailor. But it is true I should like to see the pyramids with my own eyes. Artists’ sketches merely whet one’s appetite.”
“With the wars over and the world at peace, a visit to Egypt might be a grand holiday, worth a little seasickness. I wager Mrs. Darcy would like to see the pyramids too.”
“Indeed.” Darcy smiled inwardly. Such a visit would delight Elizabeth. “And Garrett, if we should embark upon such a journey, it would put my mind at ease to know Pemberley was in the hands of a proper steward. I need a man whom the household and all my tenants, as well as my London agents, know has more than my respect and trust, but has the legal right to make binding agreements. It is not right that you should have to secure my permission for every little thing.”
“With respect, you should have brought on a stewar
d ten years ago, when old Wickham died.”
“Perhaps. But the man I wanted for the position would not take it.”
Garrett did not smile exactly. “There were still adventures to be had in the world. And who would have pulled you out of the scrapes you got into?”
“Lord knows, man, you’ve had the position unofficially these many years. You liaise with the farmers, collect the rents, supervise the head gamekeeper, the stable master, and Mr. Rook. It is under your good management that Pemberley lands are put to their best use. You’ll have Orange Blossom Cottage, four hundred pounds per annum, and a carriage and four to drive your wife about the countryside.”
“My wife.”
“You will be marked a gentleman, Garrett. As your father dreamed of, sacrificed for. The ladies of the neighborhood will not rest until you are properly fitted with a Mrs. Garrett.”
“I could never marry anyone unless it were… Very well. I will take the position and all that it entails, with gratitude. And with your blessing, I will ask for Miss Morton’s hand.”
“Of course you have my blessing—though I would deem it a favor if Morton would help train up her replacement before leaving Mrs. Darcy.”
“Knowing Sally—I mean Miss Morton—she would not have it any other way.”
They left their horses at the stables, and walking to the great house Darcy said, “Out of curiosity, Garrett, what if I had withheld my blessing?
“Then I should have left things well enough alone and said nothing to Miss Morton. But I should never have married another, no matter what the Mrs. Grenways of the county expect.”
“Good man. I know I can speak for Mrs. Darcy that you and Morton will have her blessing. You do realize marrying a lady’s maid will hold you back in society. Your wife will always be regarded askance.”
“What will it signify? We will have each other and more. A comfortable home, worthy work to do, and the respect of our true friends. What more can a man ask for from this life?”
“What more, indeed?” Darcy extended his arm. “May I shake your hand? I am grateful to count myself one of your true friends. I am in no doubt that you and Morton—Miss Morton—will be very happy together.”
After dressing for dinner, Darcy stopped by Elizabeth’s room. His wife and her maid were giggling together like two sisters, and when they saw him Morton ran to him and very nearly hugged him! She stopped herself at the last second, turned bright red, and curtsied.
“Sorry, sir. But… thank you, sir! Thank you ever so much. I never thought…”
“Am I to understand then that congratulations to Garrett are in order?”
“Yes, sir. But, if you please, I told Mr. Garrett that we must wait until after the baby comes. I won’t have Mrs. Darcy’s routine upset before then.”
“That is kind of you, Morton. And that will give you time to furnish and decorate Orange Blossom Cottage as befits a steward and his family. I am sure Mrs. Darcy will discuss a budget with you and Mrs. Reynolds.”
“Will that not be fun?” Elizabeth said. “You have wonderful taste in wallpapers and curtain fabrics, Morton. And now you will be choosing for your own walls and windows.”
“It feels like a dream.”
“Well, it is not. You may go, Morton. I can put on my own gloves. Do go down to the kitchen and have Mrs. Reynolds give you something to eat. I do not think you have taken a bite all day.”
“Yes, madam.” The maid left them.
“Poor Morton,” Elizabeth said. “She was so flustered she forgot to curtsy. Oh Fitzwilliam! I am so delighted for them. You clever man. What a wonderful match you have made!”
“Have I?” Strangely, though Darcy was of course happy for Garrett and Morton, he was not at all happy in himself. All he could think of was Georgiana’s marrying Somersea. He could no longer avoid what he knew to be true.
She would have been happier with Midwinter.
The conversation at supper only convinced him further. Lydia bubbled over with excitement for the coming nuptials. The wedding clothes! The wedding journey to Paris! Georgiana smiled and nodded, but she did not seem entirely present. Perhaps she was tired. The only time she perked up was when Darcy mentioned stopping by the chandlery that day.
“And how does the Towneses’ boy grow? Did you see him?”
“No, actually. Apparently he and his mother both have a cold.”
“Oh dear. Has Mr. Gowan seen them?”
“I sent Gowan a note the moment I returned to Pemberley,” Darcy assured his sister. “I asked him to call at the chandlery as soon as possible.”
Georgiana nodded and said something about taking a basket to the Towneses, then Lydia protested there was not enough time before the wedding and the conversation moved on, but for a few moments without Darcy, for his thoughts were in turmoil. Of course Kett and Georgiana would be happy. How could they not? They were of the same class and of similar fortunes and shared the same friends. And yet Darcy knew that wasn’t everything to a successful match. If it were, he and Caroline Bingley would have wed years ago!
He shuddered to think of it.
Contentment was a fine thing, and he believed a person could resolve to be content, whatever their circumstances. True happiness, on the other hand, was a rare jewel indeed. He considered Elizabeth, radiating with joy at the other end of the table. True happiness seemed to come by grace, as a gift from God—for what other than divine intervention had brought him into the world of Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn?
With a sinking heart, he realized Georgiana would be content as Lady Somersea, but she would have been deeply happy as Mrs. Midwinter. Not only did she seem to care deeply for the vicar but, he realized now, the life of a clergyman’s wife would appeal to his sister far more than that of a marchioness. Indeed, she would find the social obligations rather daunting.
“And so I told the draper that the order was for Miss Darcy of Pemberley and that I simply must have the silver and rose brocade within twenty-four hours’ time or I would let it be known he was an unreliable supplier!”
Lydia was relating her adventure in bringing together Georgiana’s new wardrobe. Darcy had to give her credit, she had taken on the responsibility seriously and had delivered better than she had promised. Perhaps Georgiana would ask Lydia Bennet to come live with her and act as her secretary. To that end, he would continue Lydia’s allowance as a wedding present to his sister.
Yes, that would be a satisfactory solution all round. It would certainly make Elizabeth happy to know her youngest, flightiest sister had a settled place.
Later, while Mr. and Mrs. Quartermaine entertained everybody with another bawdy duet, Elizabeth sat down beside him on the sofa. “At supper, husband, what were you thinking of?” She spoke quietly, though they were well enough removed from the others to ensure privacy.
“What do you mean?” He kissed the back of her gloved hand and did not let it go.
“I saw the wheels turning inside your head, the crease between your eyes. I merely wish to assure myself that you are not unwell.”
“I was thinking.”
“Oh dear!”
“Sometimes I believe Lydia is more excited over my sister’s wedding than Georgiana is herself. I wonder… I fear Georgiana may have accepted Kett purely in order to please her family and friends.”
Elizabeth watched Georgiana watching the singers. After a few moments, she leaned close to him and said, “I agree that Georgie does look out for the happiness of others to a great degree. But I do not believe she would sacrifice her own happiness to that end.”
“I hope you are right.”
“Dearest husband, have you not yet learned I am almost always right?” Elizabeth leaned against him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Almost.”
Chapter 29
Georgiana left the house before nine o’clock, going out through the kitchen and waiting at the stables while the curricle was made ready for her escape. She laughed at the notion. The “escape” would last but
a couple of hours—for Lydia was right, of course; there was barely time to finish her final fittings before tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she would become what she had been born to be, fulfill all her family’s hopes. Tomorrow she would become Lady Somersea.
But today she was still Georgiana Darcy. No one could begrudge her taking one last basket of bread and soup to a sick tenant.
The curricle moved along briskly. There had been fine weather, and the road to the chandlery was much used and kept in good repair. A spring shower threatened, but the clouds were still far off in the east and she would be home before they came close enough to cause any mischief.
It would have degraded you to marry me.
Drake’s words would not leave her. They hit harder now than two days ago when he spoke them, for since then she had learned what neither of them had known at the time: he was to be rector of St. Mary’s. He could be on the path to archdeacon and even bishop, should his ambitions lie in that direction. Surely now he must feel his worth, if sensibility of his own good character had not made him feel it before.
“Men and their pride!”
“What was that, miss?”
She had forgot the stablemaster’s eleven-year-old son, playing tiger on the back of the curricle. “Nothing.”
Too late, too late. Tomorrow she would marry Lord Somersea, though Mr. Midwinter was now respectable indeed. He would make some young woman very happy one day. Perhaps it would be Alice Grenway.
“Oh… spite!”
“Miss?”
She slowed the horses and turned. “I am sorry, Joe. I did not mean to frighten you.” She had only meant to chastise Fate—and men who did not know their worth.
At the chandlery she handed Joe the reins and gave him one of Mrs. Crealy’s rolls from the basket. “I will not be long.”
She was taken to Hannah’s bedroom. Mr. Gowan was there and was just finishing his examination. He looked somewhat grim.
“Is it so bad, Mr. Gowan?”
“I am more concerned for the infant,” the physician said. “An infectious pneumonia is much harder on one so young.”
