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A Very Austen Valentine

Page 5

by Robin Helm


  “I do, just not today.” She sipped her chocolate, gazing at him over the rim of her cup.

  “Shall I ask Cook to prepare you something else?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Fitzwilliam, you must stop fussing over me. Please, allow me to enjoy our time together. I have finished my meal, and I promise to eat heartily at midday and dinner. You have no idea how much I have anticipated spending a wonderful day with you. Will you not relent? The smell of the bacon puts me off.”

  “I am sorry to make you unhappy. You must know I am complaining because I love you.” He took her hand in his. “I shall try to be more pleasant, or you may regret agreeing to be with me all day.”

  “I know you love me, and that is the reason you pay such attention to whatever I do. I have heard other wives complain that their husbands ignore them, and I am very pleased to have married such an attentive man.” She squeezed his hand.

  “As you are dressed in your habit, I assume you have plans to ride. May I come with you?”

  His teasing tone fully restored her good humour.

  “Of course,” she answered. “How can you teach me the finer points of horsemanship if we do not ride together? I have waited a month for this lesson with you, as Mr. Anderson assures me daily that I have much to learn, and you are the best one to teach me.”

  “I may have to raise the man’s pay,” Darcy murmured, standing to hold his hand out to her.

  Sims and Jenny awaited them at the front door, coats and hats at the ready. Once they were warmly dressed, he held the door for her, then escorted her to the stables. Mr. Anderson stood at the gate of the horse barn, holding Patience’s reins. Her saddle was slung over the adjoining fence.

  Darcy looked at his stablemaster and raised a questioning brow.

  “The mistress said you’d teach her to saddle the beast,” said the stablemaster, laughing under his breath. “I tried to tell ‘er ’twas too heavy. Wasted my breath, I did.”

  The gentleman rolled his eyes a bit. “And now I shall waste mine.”

  Elizabeth cleared her throat, placing her hands on her hips. “I can hear both of you, you know. Are you men saying I am stubborn?”

  “Neither of us said that, my love. I think you are rather – ambitious,” he replied with a strained smile. “The saddle is heavy, and you are small. How shall you lift it so high? Also, the mare is too tall for you to throw it over her back. You barely reach my shoulder. You must have noticed that my chin rests easily atop your lovely head.”

  “I am aware that it will difficult, husband, but I wish for us to find a way for me to do it. What if I need to saddle Patience, but all you men are busy? What if I am alone? You could be hurt, and I might have to ride to get help for you.”

  He gently cupped her face with his hands. “So, you worry for me, too?”

  “Of course, I do,” she answered, dropping her hands to her sides. “Especially when you are gone all day. I imagine all sorts of terrible things, for accidents happen quite often on farms. I saw far too much tragedy growing up at Longbourn.”

  “Is that why you learned to ride?”

  She nodded. “One of the reasons. I also wanted to be able to ride with you, to join you in something you enjoy doing.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” he asked softly. “I know this morning is your time, and I agreed to do what you want. If you wish to spend the entire time learning to saddle Patience, we will do so; however, I fear you may be too tired at the end of the exercise to do anything else.”

  Elizabeth lifted her eyes up to his. “You know more about this than I do. What do you suggest?”

  “It cannot be done this morning, so you must be patient. As soon as is possible, I shall have some steps made for you, tall enough that you can saddle Patience and mount her without assistance. Do you agree?”

  She thought for a moment. “I think your plan is a good one. Will you agree to teach me?”

  He kissed her forehead, then lowered his hands. “Of course. Even though ’tis my intention that you never be alone with assistance unavailable, I do recognize that sometimes things happen which are out of my control.”

  She turned her head to Mr. Anderson, giving him a sweet smile. “Please, saddle Patience. My husband and I are going riding.”

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Darcy had been showing Elizabeth how to better control her horse for the better part of an hour when they stopped to rest. He dismounted Xanthos, then lifted his wife from Patience. Once the reins of the horses were securely wrapped around a tree limb, he retrieved the blanket he had secured to his saddle and spread it in a sunny spot.

  He lay back with his hands under his head, legs crossed.

  She sat beside him, knees bent to the side.

  “You learn so quickly, my love,” he said. “I can hardly believe you have been riding only a month.”

  Her eyes brightened. “High praise from such a fine horseman. I have often admired you as you rode, sitting tall in the saddle, moving fluidly with the horse.”

  “I have not ridden for pleasure in quite a while. As I think on it, I have never noticed your watching me. When did that happen?”

  She blushed, waving her hand. “Oh, many times.”

  “You appear to be avoiding my question, wife. How very interesting. When did you see me riding?”

  “You and Charles were riding across the hills between Netherfield and Longbourn the very first time I ever saw you.”

  “That was before the assembly?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat up. “And you admired me then?”

  She looked away. “I did. I thought you very handsome.”

  “Then why did you snub me at Lucas Lodge?”

  “I never snubbed you,” she answered firmly, turning her face back to his.

  “You refused to dance with me, even though it meant you could not dance at all that evening. Why did you dislike me so?”

  “I heard what you said about me to Charles at the assembly.” She mimicked his voice, low and haughty. “‘She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.’ I fully intended never to dance with you if you should ever deign to ask me.”

  “I said that? I do not remember it. Are you certain?”

  “I am positive, for I heard every word of condemnation, as did my mother.”

  He furrowed his brow. “No wonder you despised me, though I can assure you I did not think that. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I have always been uncomfortable among people I do not know. I have not your easiness with strangers. Will you forgive me?”

  “Do you think I have not forgiven you?” she asked. “Would I have married you if I held a grudge?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “I guess not. You have a most forgiving heart, and I am very glad of it.”

  “It is no great feat on my part to forgive a person who loves me. I tried to hold onto my anger, but I could not resist you.”

  He was quiet.

  “None of this on my time,” she said. “You must be happy and entertaining. Of what are you thinking?”

  “I am pondering how fortunate and blessed I am to have you. Most women would never have accepted me after such a slight.”

  “Most women would have added up your fortune and borne with your rudeness.”

  “You are not most women,” he replied, smiling as he leaned over to kiss her. Pulling away, he stood and reached for her hand to help her stand.

  “I was not finished,” she said, pouting a bit.

  “Neither was I, but if you wish to finish with your plans before midday, we should stop kissing. I do reserve the right to kiss you anytime I choose during my afternoon.”

  “What does it say about me to acknowledge your restraint is superior to mine?” she asked.

  “I believe it means I am the most fortunate man in all of England.” He made a step with his hands to aid her in mounting Patience.

  Once she was seated in the saddle, she turned to him.<
br />
  “I must work on that. Obviously, I have done something wrong.”

  He shook his head, laughing. “You make me the happiest man in England. What could be wrong with that?”

  She chuckled. “I wish for you to be the happiest man in the world. What should I do to ensure that you are?”

  Darcy winked at her. “I am positive I can think of something.”

  Chapter Seven

  I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.

  Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

  After her riding lesson and a short rest with Darcy, Elizabeth directed Patience to ride back to Pemberley. Mr. Anderson took their horses to the stables, while Elizabeth crooked her finger at her husband.

  “Follow me,” she commanded, then turned to climb the steps. A footman held the door open for her, and she looked back over her shoulder at her husband.

  Darcy winked at her. “Lead on, my lady.”

  Once the butler had collected their coats and hats, Elizabeth grasped Darcy’s hand, pulling him behind her.

  “Where are we going? I hope our next activity involves food,” he said.

  She nodded. “I think it a bit cold to eat outside today, and as you are not working, I decided to bring our midday picnic indoors.”

  He raised a brow but continued to follow her.

  When they arrived at their destination, he smiled. “Excellent. One of my favourite places.”

  The conservatory was attached to the back of the house, and three large fireplaces were built into the shared wall to warm the glass enclosure during the winter. A blanket and cushions were spread on the floor by the warmth of the middle fireplace, and their food sat on hot bricks atop the cart she used for their evening meals. Darcy sat on the blanket, and Elizabeth served him first. She then filled her plate and joined him.

  When they were done eating, she patted her lap. “I think you need another nap. Sleeping appears to be a productive activity for you, Mr. Darcy, and I wish to have you rested for the remainder of the day.”

  “I am not at all sleepy, but perhaps you should slumber a bit more. The rest of today is mine, and we have a busy schedule for the afternoon.”

  Darcy stretched out his long legs, crossing his ankles in front of himself as he leaned back against a pile of pillows, gesturing to his lap.

  She began to lower herself, but he held up his hand. “Stop.”

  Elizabeth looked heavenward. “So overbearing. I suppose that comes with being the master of such a grand estate.”

  She chuckled as she sat up, following his instruction.

  Darcy raised himself to a sitting position, pointing a finger in the air, moving it in a circular pattern to indicate that she should turn around.

  Sighing, she complied. He quickly removed all the pins from her nearly waist-length, dark hair, freeing it from its plaits as he pulled his fingers through the thick, wavy mass.

  “Like silk,” he whispered, watching as it fell around her shoulders and down her back.

  He lifted her curls, speaking gently. “Turn around and put your head in my lap. I wish to watch you rest.”

  “Hmm …” she purred, doing as he asked.

  Once he had spread her tresses across the blanket, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hands tugging gently on her scalp. Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.

  A short while later, she awakened, quite content to gaze up at her husband’s handsome countenance. “That was extremely calming.”

  Darcy smiled down at her. “Did you dream?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You were talking. I caught snatches of words, but not enough to know what you saw.”

  “I dreamed we were riding across the hills.”

  “Ah! Now I understand why you muttered ‘Patience.’ You were speaking of your horse, not of my dearth of that quality. My mind is eased.”

  “Have I often talked in my sleep?” she asked, horrified. Sitting up, she quickly gathered her hair, pulling it over her shoulder to twist into a loose braid.

  “From time to time.” He sighed. “I would dearly love to know what thoughts invade your lively imagination while you slumber.”

  My dreams are personal and private, but I can do this for him. I can allow him to know me better. I shall not keep secrets from him. I will answer whatever he asks.

  She took a deep breath. “I always write my most vivid dreams in my journal. Would you like to read them?”

  His dimples spoke his delight. “Truly?”

  “Yes,” she replied soberly. “You must promise not to make sport of me – unless I am trying to be farcical.”

  He quickly kissed her nose. “I shall try to restrain myself, my love, but your thoughts and reactions are so different from mine that I find great entertainment in most of what you say. I am not really having fun at your expense when I laugh. I simply love the different quirks and directions of your active mind. I was a dull, complacent man before I met you, beloved. You brought me back to life. You make me happy.”

  I adore this man. “Then you shall read my journal only when I am present,” she replied playfully. “That way, when you snort, I shall be right there to hear your explanation.”

  “Imp. Agreed.”

  “What nocturnal amusement have I afforded you recently?” she asked with a bit of trepidation.

  “Nothing too shocking. In the past fortnight or so, you mentioned chess, a cat, games, kisses, a treasure chest, and – me.” He very nearly glowed when he added himself to the list.

  “I remember those dreams quite clearly,” she said, the heat rising in her cheeks. “I journaled them in great detail.”

  “Was I in any of them?”

  This is important to him.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  He kissed her cheek and whispered, “How many?”

  Her voice was quiet. “All of them.”

  “Of what else do you dream?”

  “The only ones I remember are of you. I think I always dream of you.”

  “How long have you been dreaming of me?” he asked, gazing at her.

  She lowered her eyes. “Since the first time I saw you.”

  “Even when I would not dance with you?” he asked in a skeptical tone.

  She glanced at him, laughing. “Especially then. You should not read those dreams. I daresay it would probably take away materially from your good mood. I think I expressed myself in the safety of my dreams, because I would never say those things to you.”

  His expression was comically aghast. “Not today, then.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Very wise decision.”

  Pulling her across his lap and into an embrace, he asked, “Where is your journal?”

  “In my study. What of your arrangements, though? Could we not spend our afternoon as you intended and wait until later to read my journal?”

  He curled his fingers, holding her chin, rubbing it with his thumb.

  “Compromise?” he asked in a hopeful tone.

  “Perhaps. What do you suggest?”

  Darcy kissed her lightly on her lips. “I wish to read one of your recent entries. If you agree, I shall wait, albeit impatiently, to read more.”

  “Come with me, then,” she answered.

  He cradled her in his arms and stood, taking care that she was safely on her feet before he released her.

  She smiled up at him, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, walking with him towards her study.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Elizabeth leaned against her desk, observing as Darcy read her journal, noting the expressions darting across his strong features. Her mind wandered, distracted, fascinated as she watched his face. His nose is perfect, though I truly love the definition of his firm jawline and chin. But his eyes! Such a lovely shade of green. Tall with broad shoulders. A perfect specimen of male beauty.

  When he finished, he looked at her through his dark lashes. “We have not played chess
in months. I would like to remedy that situation.”

  Elizabeth was jolted from her reverie. “Now?”

  He lifted his chin. “I have plans for us for the rest of today. Do you fancy a game next week?”

  “You are eager, sir.”

  “I am, and I would like to wager,” he replied with a lazy smile.

  “Confident, are you?” she asked.

  “Of course, though I will not mind at all if you win. After reading that dream, I think losing would be no great hardship.”

  “Why am I not surprised at your response?” she asked.

  “Have I lost the ability to surprise you? That would be a shame, indeed. You may grow bored. That will never do.”

  “You are many things, husband, but boring is not one of them,” she replied.

  The gentleman smirked as he stood and placed her journal on the desk.

  “Come with me,” he said, extending his hand.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Soon, they were again in their warm outerwear, riding towards Lambton.

  A short distance from Pemberley, Darcy turned Xanthos down a graveled road. Elizabeth followed his lead.

  He stopped to dismount Xanthos and help her alight from Patience.

  Then he took her hand, guiding her to a large house in the late stages of completion.

  “Is this the dower house?” she asked.

  “Yes. The men have nearly finished,” he answered, surveying the building with contentment.

  Elizabeth walked through the front door. “Where are the men?”

  Darcy smiled. “When you made me recognize how tired I am from overworking, I began to think of my workers. I do no physical labour, so I soon realized they must be exhausted. I gave them all, both here and on the farm, a day to rest.”

  “A wonderful idea, but do they not need the money? Did you not tell me the men are not tenants? This work shall not last forever, and they may be out of work after you finish your projects.”

  “Very astute of you. Most of the labourers are from Lambton and the surrounding villages. They farm a bit in the warmer months to provide food for their families, but they depend on estates like Pemberley to hire them in the winter.”

  “Will losing a day’s wages not be a worse thing than being tired?” she asked.

 

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