From Pemberley to Paradise, page 10
There was a knock at the door that woke her up with force from her reveries. She jumped to her feet, hoping it was Darcy, but it was Weston who came to walk her to her room
Chapter 15
The next day she did not know how to tell Jane she still had no marriage coming soon. Her sister was more annoyed than Elizabeth had ever seen her.
“It is not only about you, Lizzy,” she said.
“I know, I know! There are so many people to suffer…”
“Yes! But be selfish! Do not think of them, think of you and of this baby; what life do you think you could have for you and what future could you assure for your child?”
Darcy had again departed long before breakfast, as he was preparing a hunt, and the colonel told her it would take place on the marchioness’s estate.
“Do you want to come along?” the colonel asked with his benevolent face. Elizabeth wondered how much he knew. She did not know anything about what men discussed, if they unbosomed themselves to one another, as women did. But if he knew his attitude towards Elizabeth was irreproachable, knowing the fact she was making his cousin very unhappy.
She declined the invitation, “I am exhausted and…I do not ride!”
The colonel looked at her in astonishment; in their world, women rode from the first years of their life. It was a good reason for Darcy not to marry me—Elizabeth thought, but in the end, she was content that she did not lose her sense of humour altogether.
Elizabeth went to her room, expecting the others to leave. She was tired as the two past nights were far from restful. She had an odd impression that Jane, for the first time in their lives, was moving away from her. And from her perspective, she was going to be absolutely alone.
“We might stay very late this evening as we are invited to dinner at her place,” Jane said, “are you sure you do not want to come? A carriage could come to bring you later.”
Elizabeth shook her head; she was not jealous of the marchioness, but she could not avoid thinking that if she were not around maybe Darcy would be more interested in any kind of marriage with her. It was not a false marriage she wanted but just to give her some time…and space to overcome the problem. Or she would marry him and just close her eyes and let him finish, as that lady used to say. Yet after the night at Netherfield, she was mostly sure he would not be tricked into believing her ruse.
She slept for most of the afternoon, waking up hungrier than she could remember being in a long time. She listened to the sounds of the house, its rhythms specific to a vast household. There was Mrs Gibbert, the housekeeper the one who made the house live, all the servants were at her orders although Weston, Darcy’s butler, was not subordinated to her. Sometimes he seemed to be her superior as their master transmitted orders through him. She wondered what a mistress of the house could do or which would be her duties in such a well-organised household.
She rang for a maid to lead her to dinner, but it was Weston who came. Obviously, his master had ordered him to look after her, to be sure that Elizabeth had all that she wanted. Elizabeth liked Weston, and she knew the feeling was mutual.
“Will madam want to dine with Mr Philip?” he asked just in front of her door.
She did not know anything about Mr Philip, she only remembered a young, rather timid gentleman.
“Mr Philip is my master’s secretary, he is a student at Cambridge and during the holidays he stays here and helps my master with the library and his papers.”
“Yes!” Elizabeth said with all her heart, making Weston smile. He was rarely angry with his master, but this time, he did not like him leaving Miss Elizabeth home. She was a fine lady he would enjoy being their mistress. But that was a secret he had to keep for himself.
They had a nice but animated dinner. Mr Philip proved to be an interesting interlocutor and Elizabeth enjoy that kind of conversation—that reminded her of Archibald—about literature and art and history, so far from the usual small talk characterising a dinner. She was sad to have lost that kind of life and so unsure she was fitted for hearing—for the rest of her life—gossip, conversations about other people involving details that were not even confirmed as being true, all such a waste of time and energy. At home, the discussions with her father saved her from the usual boredom, but the society she might enter by marrying Darcy was vain and uninteresting. Darcy was different, she knew, but by being the mistress of such a place, she would have to renounce most of her joys. Mr Philip suggested a hope that she might find interesting people to befriend.
“Would you like to come to the library, madam? I have some interesting albums to show you.”
Elizabeth nodded, delighted by that evening that began so badly.
Mr Philip was thrilled to uncover his realm, showing her ancient manuscripts that one had to manipulate with care; he even asked Elizabeth to wash her hands before doing so. He blushed, but he was firm and she liked those rules.
“It is a manuscript from the 12th century from Antwerp…”
He knew everything, but he also showed her a part of the library that was not yet catalogued, “A lot of work still to be done!” he said very proudly.
“Well, not tonight, Rowan!”
They both turned in surprise, so deep in their search, they did not hear Darcy entering the library. He was dressed in his hunting suit that showed he came directly to them…to her.
The young Rowan left the room not without regret; as for him, it had been a magical night.
“Darcy” Elizabeth said with a smile he knew too well, it was meant to hide her sorrow, “so early?”
He faced her with an impenetrable face, “Yes, I care about my guests!”
“Have they all returned?” she asked, thinking of her sister.
“No, when I departed the dinner had not begun, it will last for some time and most probably they will sleep there.”
She had the question all over her face, so Darcy smiled and responded, “I disliked you being alone here, but we also have things to discuss. Come, I have to eat!”
He led her into the parlour she already knew, a table was set on the little terrace that looked from the first floor to the park. They sat and Darcy began eating; he was hungry and enjoyed his meal. She had a plate in front of her and he invited her to join him.
“No, thank you,” she said, “I just finished my meal!”
Less than two feet distance, she was watching him eat when in a sudden move—seemingly unexpected even for her—she took from his plate a piece of meat he had just cut. She ate in haste, only realising afterwards what she had done. Darcy abruptly stopped, but then he cut another piece and placed it on her plate, he was smiling and enjoying that scene. They ate in silence, from time to time he continued to give her pieces from his plate or from the plates nearby. One could say a certain peace was restored between them.
They sat in silence for a long time after the maids cleared the table, he was sipping his brandy, while she admired the garden, almost as if they wanted to keep that atmosphere. It could have been any night, any time in the future…them together in the parlour.
“We have to talk, Elizabeth!” he said and the magic broke; they were back in a present where she was alone and pregnant. She was determined to take anything he would give her, to try to be his wife and forget about love or another kind of life that would be most suited to her.
“I am listening!” she whispered.
Deep in his thoughts he did not see the change, he did not understand she was ready to capitulate and accept his proposal. He had passed a horrible day, incapable of hunting or eating or talking to the others. He searched for a solution and when finally he had one, it was the worst but he did not want to make her suffer anymore.
“I suppose you know that north of Longbourn, at maybe fifteen miles, there is another estate.”
She nodded. She knew that place; it was rarely inhabited, but it seemed to be owned by an older family who did not like to mingle with the rest of the country.
“It is a small one, but with a steady income. It has mills and other industries, a manor of maybe twelve rooms, a beautiful park, it has everything one may need for a decent life. I instructed my solicitor to place an offer and eventually buy that property. If our child is a boy, the property will be his—there will be clear instruction in my will—but if we have a girl, the property will be owned by your father.”
Darcy was silent for some seconds as to remember what he had to say, “As Mr Bennet has no male heirs you will inherit the property...and your family.”
Elizabeth was stiff as a statue, incapable of speaking. She wanted to interrupt and tell him she wanted to marry him and eventually be a wife, but she could not.
“We shall marry for this child to have a father. You cannot be the direct owner of that domain, but you will be able to live there and have all the rights to administrate it; I am sure you are most capable of making a success out of it and assure you and the child an enjoyable living. Of course, I shall contribute, in time, with anything necessary. We shall stay married as long as it takes. My solicitor assured me that we can find a way of separating. The lengthy divorce procedure might be avoided if we could get an annulment. One reason that qualifies, by the law, is if one party had a prior contract with another person who is still living. I shall prove I have such a contract and the separation[1] will be eventually pronounced. You will be free. However, you will not have the right to remarry; if you remarry, I shall take the child!”
He was speaking in a neutral, almost indifferent tone. He was sad and regretful, yet he neither wanted to make her unhappy nor to put his child’s future in danger.
“It is my final decision, and I hope you agree. I have applied for a marriage license and we shall have it in less than a week. The only problem is that the property will only be available a year from now. So after marriage, you can go home, to your parents, or to London, our house is empty, you choose!”
“What will you want me to do?” she asked.
He looked at her with sad and tired eyes, “Me? What I want, well I want this to finish as soon as possible, to have a healthy child and us, separated! However, for now, I would want you to give birth here and have my baby for a few months at Pemberley!”
“Then I agree to all. I shall stay for a year at Pemberley and then the baby can come to Pemberley whenever you and your future wife may want.”
“Thank you!” he said.
But in fact, it was she who wanted to thank him with all her heart. She was sad she could not give him what he wanted but she felt relieved. Her life was finally on a better track.
He wanted to stand up and leave, but Elizabeth put her hand on his, on the table.
He was looking at their hands when she said, “The last thing in the world would be for me to make you suffer, thank you for everything, but I am worried about…”
She could not say the marchioness, but he knew too well want she meant.
“Alexandra has a choice, but I am almost sure she will remain in my life.”
Her mouth was dry, she felt nausea moving up from her stomach, but she could only find an ornamental vase in jade—probably worth hundreds of pounds—she thought while throwing up with an effort that almost made her fall, but Darcy was near her, helping. She felt so ashamed she could die, but he took her in his arms and laid her on a sofa. When she could see the world again, Mrs Gibbert was near her, she had a cold towel on her forehead and she was feeling a little better.
“The doctor!” shouted Darcy, “Weston get the doctor immediately!”
“I am not ill…” Elizabeth said with an effort, “please Mrs Gibbert, tell him I am not ill, I do not need the doctor!”
Mrs Gibbert turned to Darcy and said with a benevolent, happy smile, “Sir, please have confidence, the mistress is not ill!”
Only a moment later, the old and faithful servant realised what she just said. Elizabeth wondered how they already knew the situation between them, but it seemed that in all houses it was the same, the news penetrated at all levels at the same time.
He was not mad for Mrs Gibbert calling her “mistress,” she was, in the end, the future Mrs Darcy.
“I understand, but I want your mistress in the bedroom next to mine from this minute on, send someone to move her things and I shall carry her.”
“I do not need to be carried; I am good…believe me!” Elizabeth tried to make him understand, but the look in his eyes told her to let him do whatever he wanted. He took her into his arms and carried her to the apartment that the masters of Pemberley had used forever as their bedrooms. Till that moment the mistress’s bedroom had been unoccupied.
Their story began in his arms, carrying her from the fire, saving her, and here she was in his arms again to start a new life as the mistress of Pemberley. She felt safe in his arms, the way he was taking care of her, his seriousness in treating their delicate problem. She had made a hell of his life, disrupting his plans and yet he found such an excellent solution for her…but she wondered how good it was for him.
His mother slept in the bed where he laid her down, the bed where maybe he had been born. Looking around, she waited for the maid to prepare her bath., She might be only a guest in that room, but strangely she felt like she was home.
Darcy had made out of the ancient mansion a modern home. She did not know how the house looked twenty years ago, but she had a feeling he did not change the furniture or the curtains, the decor, but many rooms had in the dressing room a special place for washing where there was a tub and the water came from taps. It was the first time in her life she had seen such a modern element. The mistress’s dressing room in green marble was impressive, even the tub could serve a queen.
Mrs Gibbert supervised the process making Elizabeth say, “Please, Mrs Gibbert, go rest; I have enough help.”
But the old lady laughed, for she was in a good mood, pleased to serve her. “I would not dare go now!” She was not afraid of her master but touched by his fear his lady could be ill.
Between her room and his, there was an impressive double door that was shut yet she could catch voices, as Darcy was speaking to his butler. She did not actually understand what they were discussing, but it was really odd to know he was so close.
The whole situation was strange: she was not 20 feet from him, in a room she was not entitled to be in as she was not the wife who would spend her life with him.
She could not comprehend how she was in this situation. Of all her sisters, she was the one to think and plan and imagine the consequences of each action of her life. In the past she fancied herself to be a decent, respectable, wise woman and yet she was there, in a strange bedroom not 20 feet from a strange man, ready to play the role of his wife, pregnant with a real baby.
The values she attached importance to in the past were blown up and all she could do was to cry in the dark, something she seldom did in her past life. She could not explain her feelings, or fully understand the actions that led her into that house and that mess; they were questionable or even unsavoury, and so uncharacteristic of the woman she used to be.
The tears were pouring down her face. In the still of the house, her sobs were the only sound to be heard. She was afraid, she was alone, she was with a baby she could not wholly understand how he got there from the first night she was with a man and how he would influence her life forever. Her plans for the future had been annulled; what she still had was a hasty wedding in some distant place, with a man she respected but did not love. She heard a little knock at the door between their bedrooms and before she could say a word he was there, the instigator of her miseries…but also the victim.
He was dressed for sleeping, yet Elizabeth realised he must have heard her sobbing and decided to come to her. Without a word, he took a chair and sat near her bed, then he stood up and lit more candles.
“I want you to see me, Elizabeth…and I want to see you! I hate to hear you cry, I imagine how lonely and lost you are, but I want you to be sure that here you are safe; everybody will take care of you and the baby; this is the safest place in the world for you two. Do you believe me?”
He was looking at her with scrutinising eyes. However, they were gentle and caring.
“Speak to me, Elizabeth, do you have confidence in me?”
“Yes,” she whispered and her tears stopped falling.
“Do you know that a lot of the woman around us were pregnant before marrying?”
She was astonished by his words. From time to time in Meryton a story circulated about such a thing but it was shameful and blameworthy and even the talk was just a whisper.
“Yes, my dear, you lived in that society of yours completely unaware of what was going on outside. I do not know a lady in London who married as a virgin. The horrible fact is that it is so frequently done and yet women continue to be blamed by society. I find our society at the highest level full of hypocrisy.”
He was silent for a moment watching her. She looked so astonished by his words that he hardly could imagine what she knew about real life and what she did not.
“Let me come near you and take you in my arms. I promise nothing will happen. I am in a weird position; I love a woman and will marry another, but still, we could be friends.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, “yes, it is what I want. I do not want you to hate me!”
Darcy wholeheartedly laughed, “My God, Elizabeth, I am so far from hating you!”
He got into the bed and took her into his arms. She was happy he did not see her face anymore as she asked, “Did you tell the…marchioness about…about this?”
He laughed again and in the silence of the house, his laughter filled the room, it was a benevolent feeling that conquered his state of mind.
