Mrs. Reynolds was not an innocent. She comprehended that her master was of the conviction that his wife would be sharing his quarters much of the time. The former Mrs. Darcy had done so, except for when she was confined or ill, so Mrs. Reynolds was not shocked by this. In fact, it amplified her happiness to know that her master had fallen in love with such a woman.
Mr. Darcy had written to his aunt, Lady Matlock, soliciting her assistance in hiring a lady’s maid for Elizabeth. She had gladly done so, sending three women to Mrs. Reynolds to be interviewed. Mrs. Reynolds had settled on a Frenchwoman of thirty named Marguerite, who was an experienced lady’s maid. Her recommendations were impeccable, and she had agreed to a probationary period pending Mrs. Darcy’s final approval.
The staff had been quite busy over the past weeks ensuring all was in perfect readiness. Mr. Darcy’s last letter had arrived the day of his wedding. He directed Mrs. Reynolds to have a light supper prepared, to ignite the welcome torches on the grounds, to have their chambers warm and well lit, and to assemble the senior household staff for a quick greeting of the new Mistress. The flurry of activity that had descended on the normally placid household was concluded. Mrs. Reynolds strolled, for the umpteenth time, through the house guaranteeing that all was flawless. A sentry was stationed by the main road to alert Mrs. Reynolds the moment the Darcy carriage was spotted.
Nothing for it now but to wait.…
The trip to Pemberley was uneventful. Lizzy was anxious and excited at the same time. I am going home! She kept repeating this to herself so it would truly penetrate her heart and soul.
She valiantly feigned composure and serenity, but the amused curl of Darcy’s mouth told her that he was on to her little charade. For probably the hundredth time, she asked him, “How much further to Pemberley?”
“Maybe two more hours, if the weather holds,” he replied, leaning closer to her so he could see around her out the window. “Those clouds do look ready to burst any moment. Luckily the road through here is an excellent one, so even if it does rain, we should not be waylaid.”
She continued to stare out the carriage window. “It is so beautiful here. Is this Derbyshire?”
“The southernmost regions, yes. I had the driver bypass Derby to avoid the congestion. We are some twenty miles south of Lambton. However, we will divert and enter from the south, rather than the west as you did before. I will let you know when we enter our estate lands. The southerly route passes through approximately five miles of our farms.”
Lizzy lifted her brows in surprise. “I had no idea it was so vast!” His use of the word “our” was not lost on her, but she did not comment.
Darcy smiled at her and stroked her cheek. “Yes, it is quite large. It requires several hours to circle the perimeter. Of course, a generous percentage of the land is wild and inaccessible but for horseback. A significant amount is woods, lakes, and rivers, as well as pastures. Game runs free and birds make their homes with little to disturb them except for the occasional hunt. The farmlands are closer to the manor, thus the tenants are within an easy distance.” He leaned back in the seat and lovingly caressed her back.
Elizabeth continued to stare out the window. She did not speak and Darcy could sense her tension, but he kept silent, waiting patiently until she was prepared to open her mind to him. In time she did, but her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her. “What if they do not like me?”
“It does not matter if they do not like you. You are my wife and the Mistress of Pemberley. They are your servants and tenants.” She jerked her head toward him at his blunt words, a ready retort on her lips. He smiled and stopped the flip rejoinder he knew she was about to make by pressing his fingers to her lips. That is what I want to see from you, my brave, feisty Lizzy, he thought. “However, I do not believe, even for one second, that they will not adore you. Nor do I have the slightest qualm or apprehension that you will be the most excellent Mistress that Pemberley has seen in decades, no offence intended toward my dear mother or grandmother.”
She peered intently into his eyes, as if searching for any untruth or doubt in his assertions, but there was none. The deep love he felt for her was unmistakably visible, as it always was. Yet, as she examined his eyes, she was again struck forcibly by the unparalleled esteem he held for her. His love for her, although all consuming, unwavering, and unconditional, was not blind or foolish. He knew her faults, her flaws, her weaknesses. He also knew her quality, her personality, her strengths, and her character. His trust in her was in spite of and due to these incontrovertible facts, not out of besotted passion or bedazzlement.
She sighed and relaxed against his chest, burying her face into his shoulder. “You must think me a silly child!”
He smiled into her hair. “You are not silly and, as proven several times over the past two days, you are unquestionably not a child!” They both laughed. “I do think you are worrying too much about all this, Elizabeth. No demands will be placed on you until you wish to assume them. Good heavens, it took me a year to feel secure as Master of Pemberley, and I grew up there! You will have all the time you need. Mrs. Reynolds already likes you and she will assist you in any way you require.”
“I do not apprehend how she could have such a fair opinion of me since I acted so outlandishly peculiar. Getting separated, spying on Georgiana, stammering like an imbecile, rushing off across the fields. I would imagine she is horrified that you would deign to be in the same room with me, let alone marry me!” She smiled up at him and he could not resist kissing her.
“Well, therein lies the answer to your question, my heart. Mrs. Reynolds has known me since I was four. Few people understand me as well as she does. For all that she is technically a servant, she has in many ways been a second mother to me. She has observed me through all my years of pain and grief. She knows my character and judgment. She trusts my choices and wishes nothing more than to see me happy. So, if you bring me that happiness, and you emphatically do, and if I trust you, then she does as well. It is that simple.” He kissed her again, deeply.
Huskily he continued, “You must learn to have the same faith in my assertions regarding your qualifications as she does.” He paused to kiss her some more. “Of course,” he teased, “it is all a moot point as I intend to keep you locked in my bedchamber for several weeks, at least so I may have unfettered and undisturbed access to you!”
Lizzy grinned. “If you mean to frighten me by that threat, Mr. Darcy, you have failed miserably. Frankly, I can think of no place on earth I would rather be than in your bedchamber, provided you are there as well, naturally.” She accompanied her words with sensitively placed caresses and kisses, causing Darcy to groan and close his eyes in mute surrender.
It was some time before he sought to find his voice or even that he was able to. Finally, breathlessly, he begged, “Desist, woman! You win! I shall exact my revenge for this torture, however, so be warned.” He moved away from her to compose himself, refusing to acknowledge the expression of amusement and triumph on her face.
Time passed in comfortable companionship. Lizzy was riveted to the passing scenery, all of it lushly green moorland and rolling hills. The River Derwent was a constant companion as the main road wove alongside it, crossing frequently over stone bridges. They traveled through Matlock, but Rivallain, the estate of Lord and Lady Matlock, was not visible. Darcy pointed out the places of interest as they glided by, but they did not halt. Both were too anxious to be home.
As they veered onto a secondary avenue and crossed over a stone bridge spanning the river, Darcy proclaimed, “We are well into Pemberley lands, Elizabeth. Look.”
The view was magnificent. The sun was low in the western sky, blanketing the spectacular landscape with soft shadows. To the west and east flowed seemingly endless fields of orchards and perfectly manicured farmland. Small, sturdy stone cottages were scattered randomly. Large numbers of sheep were noted as well as the horses that Pemberley was famous for. They saw a sizeable lake that was fe
d by numerous small streams from the hills and bordered on its eastern shore by a forest of cedar and pine that appeared to stretch to the horizon.
On her tour with the Gardiners, Lizzy had approached Derbyshire and Pemberley from the northwest, having taken a circuitous route. These were areas she had not seen with any clarity, her return to Hertfordshire being filled with too much dismay to inspect the passing landscape.
She scooted closer to him, resting a hand on his thigh, and he suspiciously watched her. “Do not fear, sir,” she giggled. “I promise to behave…for now. How soon to the house?”
“Only a couple of miles now. We will be arriving at twilight. I ordered the torches to be lit.” He placed his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her near to his side. He kissed her forehead and then nestled his face into her hair. “My Lizzy!” he breathed, “I cannot express my joy, my elation, to be bringing you home with me. Do you have any idea how deeply I love you?”
Her only reply was a bone-crunching hug. They held each other thus as the carriage proceeded down the tree-lined drive to the gravelly expanse before the entrance portico, not separating until the carriage slowed to a halt.
“How do I look?” she asked him.
“Stunning,” he answered truthfully. He kissed her lips tenderly and touched her cheek with his fingertips. “We are home.”
Lamps were lit in abundance, giving the house a bright and cheery glow of welcome. Scattered around the grounds were tall torches, lending increased illumination in the gathering darkness of evening. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Keith, the steward, waited atop the entryway steps under the wide canopy, both smiling warmly. Darcy led Elizabeth forward.
“Mrs. Reynolds, you remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Now it is my boundless honor and joy to introduce you to her again as my wife, Mrs. Darcy.”
Mrs. Reynolds curtseyed. Her face was beaming and, in an act of spontaneous pleasure, she took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy. On behalf of the entire staff, I wish to express our delight in meeting you. Please rest assured that we will all endeavor to make you comfortable in every possible way. We are at your disposal.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Your kind words ease my heart.”
Darcy introduced Mr. Keith. “Mrs. Darcy, welcome. I echo Mrs. Reynolds’s greeting and assurances,” Mr. Keith said. “It is a tremendous honor to welcome you to the Pemberley household and family.”
Mrs. Reynolds turned to her master and curtseyed. “Mr. Darcy, welcome home. All has been prepared as you instructed. The senior staff is waiting inside, and dinner will be served whenever you wish.”
They entered the enormous foyer. The room, with its marble flooring and painted ceilings, brought back fond memories for Elizabeth. Her visit here had brought William back into her life. The beauty and elegance of these rooms had finally coalesced her tumultuous thoughts of him into recognition of the amazing man he was. She stole a glance at him as he walked so proudly by her side, a dazzling smile on his lips. Suddenly it felt so very right to be here, to be with him, that all her doubts and fears vanished as a vapor on the wind.
Elizabeth’s eyes fell on the people standing in a row before her. She experienced a moment of embarrassment to have so many stares directed her way, but the looks were universally ones of welcome and friendliness. Darcy took the lead in introducing her to each member of the staff present. The head cook, Mrs. Langton, was a commanding woman, tall and stout. One glance at her features and manner, and Elizabeth could well imagine the formidable competence of her kitchen management. The butler, Mr. Taylor, a man of some sixty years, was bent slightly but robust nonetheless. Mr. Darcy’s valet, Samuel, was a handsome man of approximately forty. Mrs. Reynolds explained that the remainder of the staff, both inside and outside, would be introduced to her on the morrow.
Lastly, she was introduced to Marguerite. Elizabeth almost gasped in surprise. Marguerite was an exquisite creature, quite small in stature and build, with blonde hair pulled severely back into a knot and the face of an angel. Her voice was rich and deep for a woman, accented with a trace of her native French. She greeted Elizabeth properly but with warmth. “Mrs. Darcy, welcome. It is a tremendous honor to be chosen to serve you. I understand that my position here is dependent on my ability to please you and serve you competently. To that end, I beg you to express your needs and wishes to me and to hastily inform me of any errors I may make.”
“Thank you, Marguerite.” Elizabeth was quite moved by the greetings she had received. She addressed the group all together: “Thank you to all of you for your sincere welcome. I have been somewhat nervous regarding my reception, as Mr. Darcy could confirm, but your graciousness and concern for my well-being has comforted me. Thank you, again, from the bottom of my heart.”
Mr. Darcy took over, dismissing the staff to their duties. He directed Mrs. Reynolds to have dinner prepared for two hours hence. “I will be giving Mrs. Darcy a tour of our apartments, Mrs. Reynolds. Please see that we are not disturbed. Marguerite, Mrs. Darcy will ring for you when she is ready to dress for dinner. Samuel, I will call for you as well.” Curtseys and bows all around, and then Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth.
They ascended the grand marble staircase, taking a turn to the left and then to the right, heading to a part of the house Elizabeth had not seen during her tour in September. She could not absorb it all! Every wall held a picture, tapestry, or wall covering of incredible beauty. Exquisite furnishings lined the corridors and plush carpet runners of detailed woven designs softly cushioned their feet. Statues large and small occupied wall niches or sat on ornately carved tables. Most of the doors they passed were closed, and hallways branched off to unknown destinations with additional latched doors and staircases. Perfectly spaced oil lamps provided illumination.
“This wing of the second floor is primarily private apartments,” Darcy explained. He stopped and pointed down the passageway. “Georgiana’s chambers are down there and to the left are guests’ quarters. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley have rooms set aside for their use. I suppose we shall need to reassign Bingley’s chambers as the current ones are inappropriate for Jane as well. You have seen some of the public rooms on the southern wing, but we will tour them thoroughly tomorrow. Our chambers are up this staircase, on the third floor.”
“William, I am lost already! I sincerely hope you plan on staying close by my side or I may wander off some forgotten corridor and never be seen again. I could well become the ghost bride who haunts Pemberley for all eternity.” She laughed.
“Never fear, my dear. I intend to keep you quite near, not only so you will not get lost but for other purely selfish motives,” he said cheekily. “In truth, Pemberley is not as difficult to navigate as some manors I have been in. Rosings, for instance, is far older, and I have always imagined the original architects taking perverse delight in designing a maze of halls and rooms with the singular intention of confusing the inhabitants. Also, Pemberley is well lit, day and night. I refuse to bump into walls, so I insist on lit lamps in the main rooms and passages. All the rooms and hallways have windows that admit sunlight during the day.”
They had reached the third-floor landing and Darcy paused. He gestured to the right-hand passages. “Those rooms are unoccupied and have been since I moved into my father’s chambers years ago. Occasionally we have needed to open them for guests, but I prefer guests to stay on the second floor. Someday our children will reside in those rooms.” He said the last sentence softly and looked at Elizabeth with tenderness.
She smiled back but could not resist teasing just a bit. “And how many rooms are we to generate occupants for, sir? A girl likes to grasp what she is in for in life!”
“Well, let me think,” Darcy thoughtfully mused, “there are at least a dozen empty chambers down that wing and I believe three on this wing, not to mention the others on the western side of the manor, so…” he paused and in mock seriousness began counting on his fingers, pretending to be unable to
add it all before he gave up. “It is quite a few, my dear, so I suppose we ought to get busy with the unpleasant task of creating said occupants.” He sighed deeply and theatrically, an expression of mournful sadness on his face, “A gentleman must be diligent in his duties.”
Elizabeth laughed and took his hand, propelling him forward. “You are incorrigible! Lead the way before I attempt it and get us hopelessly waylaid.”
Darcy complied, leading her to a set of double doors to the left. He stopped before opening them and took her face in his hands. “Elizabeth, I have dreamed of showing you these rooms, of having you here as my wife for so long now. I am overwhelmed! Pinch me or something so I know I am not dreaming.”
“I shall do better,” she said. She wound her arms behind his neck, twining fingers into his hair, and brought his face to hers. She kissed him with wild abandon, pouring her love into the task. He encircled her waist with his arms, drawing her to him so that she was pressed against every plane of his body. She could feel his ardor, his desire and arousal, and she experienced it, too. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply of her lavender fragrance.
She held him tightly, allowing him the time he needed to regain control and steady his breathing. Softly she whispered, “I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Now, beloved, are you convinced of my reality?” He nodded, kissed her lips briefly, and regretfully released her.
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