From Pemberley to Paradise, page 12
Each letter had a different message; she wanted her sisters to come and visit, her mother to be proud that her Lizzy has such a handsome and powerful husband.
Then she wrote a long and sentimental letter to her father, thanking him for his kindness but also for his diplomacy. Her letter finished with a clear statement that she intended to take care of her family and Mr Darcy agreed to all her demands.
She cried for some time on the balcony, but then she laughed because near the desk was the precious jade jar, visibly placed there for her, if she needed it.
All these little attentions moved her, master and servants all wanted her to be happy, and indeed she decided she would be. She had to concentrate on the child and not think about a future beyond the child’s birth.
It was Mrs Gibbert to come after her.
“Sit, Mrs Gibbert,” Elizabeth said, offering her the other chair at the desk, clearly astonished the old woman hesitated “Madam…”
“Please, Mrs Gibbert, I am setting my own rules which we have to discuss. I understand from Mr Darcy that in the afternoon, after the wedding, the servants and people on the estate will have a party.”
“Yes, Madam,” she said with a little worry on her face. “It is the custom here, in our master’s house; we celebrate Christmas, the marriages and the…births,” she said hesitantly.
“Come, Mrs Gibbert, let us not pretend you do not know the truth; my mother is far away and I shall need all the advice and support I can get.”
The woman’s face opened in a beautiful smile and Elizabeth knew she conquered her. With Weston and Mrs Gibbert on her side, her life would be perfect.
“I need to know so many things about life here, but we shall have time. For now, I only want to be sure that the party you organise for the staff will show how happy I to become your mistress, so I need a menu that would reflect this. Everything you order for our supper will be on the party’s table. Do we agree?”
“The master told Weston and me to fulfil your wishes and commands…so, yes madam, we agree! And thank you!”
“Mrs Gibbert, please send someone to tell your master I wish to talk with him. I shall wait for him here!”
She was determined to tell him she wanted to be his wife and to apologise for her previous girlish behaviour.
“The master is gone, he told me not to wait for him for dinner, but I can ask the colonel to come, he is always the master here when Mr Darcy is away!”
She could hardly shake her head, it was not the colonel she needed. Just arrived in her room a desperate cry sized her. Darcy was at the marchioness and it was her fault.
But she had to hide, in haste the tears, for her sister burst in smiling. She was enjoying every minute of her new life and now that Elizabeth was also happy, she could let her felicity show.
“You changed your room, my dear! I went to your last room, but I was informed that Miss Bennet had moved!”
She looked around at the beautiful bedroom; the furniture was in light brown colours like honey, the walls upholstered in a pale grey fabric with stripes while the green curtains completed the decor to perfection. Jane came to the bed near her sister and took her in her arms. “I love you so much little sister,” she said, “and I am so happy you made the right decision. I know Mr Darcy can be cold or severe, but I am sure he will be a good husband and a good father. I suppose it is hard to marry without love, but your sacrifice will be rewarded in so many ways!”
Elizabeth started to cry; only after a while did Jane see her tears, “Do not be foolish; love is wonderful for some time but, look around, couples are living the same kind of life no matter how they started.”
For the first time in her life Elizabeth had to keep a secret from her sister, to bury it deep in her heart. Luckily in front of Jane she could cry, even if her sister did not know the real motive. Sadly the real cause began to be unclear even for Elizabeth. Was she miserable because she had to marry Darcy or because she did not have the chance to tell him she wanted to be his wife? Maybe it was just because of her condition.
And then she had to admit she liked his attitude, his way of making her feel at home, the little attentions, his constant care, everything…and she suffered when he was not around.
Chapter 18
She came down to dinner by herself, for she had already begun to know that part of the house. That morning she had had a grand tour of the house and tried to remember as much as possible.
“Do not worry, madam,” her maid told her with a gentle smile, “you will always find a servant around to guide you.”
That was so true; she could not even imagine how many servants Darcy had, but she decided to get to know the house and the servants and try to be the true mistress of the house.
Georgiana and the colonel were in the parlour with some of the guests. Eleonore Deighton was laughing and clearly enjoying Major Robert Everleigh’s company. Her parents were speaking to Jane, while Charles entertained the Trollope family, father and daughter. Emily Trollope was a young lady of Elizabeth’s age but so shy and timid that she barely uttered a word from time to time. Elizabeth decided to sit at the table next to Emily Trollope and try to help her enjoy the evening. She remembered how awful Charles’ sisters were when she visited Netherfield for the first time. She swore that no guest would feel otherwise than happy at her table; she would be considerate and gracious with all the people around her no matter how long she would stay at Pemberley.
She was received like a queen, for all the guests wanted to talk to her but Eleonore took her by the arm and made her sit on a sofa. “You have to tell us how you met Darcy,” she said. “Your future husband ran away when I wanted more details about your beautiful story!”
They laughed, while Elizabeth wondered what Darcy could have said. She did not imagine him as a storyteller, but it seemed she knew little about her future husband—in the presence of his old friends he could be open and enjoyable. She was a confused because of a story she did not know, so the colonel intervened saying in a leisurely tone, “He told us about the marriage license you have from two months ago and how you had to take your time to recover from the fire at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth smiled and sighed, “I suppose he did not tell you how he rescued me!”
Eleonore clapped her hands in delight, “Yes, this is a real story, not about a marriage license! I do not understand why men are so stingy when it comes to enjoyable details. Please, Miss Elizabeth, tell us all!”
It was the colonel to begin the story, giving Elizabeth time to decide what to tell. “Miss Elizabeth had the real misfortune that her bedroom was just above the parlour where the fire began.”
“Poor you!” cried Lady Deighton, frightened by the story.
Elizabeth looked around at the smiling faces that surrounded her; they were people from the Ton and yet they behaved in such a natural and enjoyable way that she began to change her misconceptions and doubts. Accepting her and Jane with friendship and consideration meant that Bingley’s sister or Lady Catherine de Bourgh might be only malevolent persons and not represent the whole society.
“It was awful, I must confess!” Elizabeth said, however, for the first time in all those weeks since the blaze she remembered that night without shivering—just wanting to conceal the facts—, for once she knew exactly what had happened. The past did not make her shameful anymore. She came to term with her memories, especially their night together. That night was not a mistake and more and more she longed for those sensations she had while in his arms.
“I was dreaming I was dancing in a huge ballroom and suddenly the people around me were shouting—, but then I began to hear the real cries. Suddenly the pleasant dream turned into a real nightmare. As my room was so close to the fire, it was full of smoke, and I could barely breathe.”
She was happy Darcy was not in the room because she could tell their guests about his courage.
Georgiana came and sat near her, and naturally, Elizabeth took her hand, “When Darcy got me out, the first person I saw was Georgiana who was working under the colonel’s command, as everyone on the lawn did…”
“I was so scared of seeing you, unconscious in my brother’s arms, I thought you were hurt!” Georgiana said.
As the story went on the guests admired Darcy’s courage and Elizabeth’s determination.
“The hero of the night was the colonel,” Elizabeth said, “he organised us to put down the fire and save everybody from flames…But, sorry Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she said, smiling to him, “my hero was Darcy!”
The Colonel laughed and made a bow, “I accept being in second place, dear Miss Elizabeth!”
“We had decided to marry just days before the blaze; we wanted to keep it secret and just have a double wedding with Jane and Charles, but the fire changed our plans. I was rather ill for some time, but as soon as I felt better, I came to Pemberley.”
Elizabeth was scared Charles would intervene and spoil her little lies, but he just smiled and looked at Jane.
“A good story, Miss Bennet,” Lord Deighton said, “All’s well that ends well! We wish you a long and happy life together…as you deserve!”
While the guests headed for the dining room, Elizabeth asked Darcy’s secretary, Mr Philip, to entertain Miss Trollope and he agreed not without regret for not receiving the mission to entertain Miss Eleonor. If she could, Elizabeth would have said to the young gentleman: “Miss Eleonor will be married to at least a Count, soon, while Emily will make any young man studying at Cambridge happy. It is all a matter of matching.” Then she wondered if she matched Darcy or if the marchioness was a better choice for him. She feared that a precise answer would hurt her. In fact, she did not want to hear that the marchioness was the perfect match for Darcy. She blamed the baby and her condition for that egoism, but she refused to think more on the subject. As Lord Deighton said, “All’s well that ends well!”
Just at the end of dinner, Darcy burst in like a storm, tired but full of that special energy riding and speed gave to a man. Joyfully he saluted everybody and graciously commanded his guests to keep him company. Elizabeth glanced in his direction from time to time, but nobody wondered as it was customary for a future wife to look at her betrothed. However, no one could guess the turmoil in her heart. She wanted to go near him and smell the perfume that was still on his clothes. She remembered so well the marchioness’s perfume—a combination of musk and roses—she would have loved in another situation. He dared to come from her arms directly to the dinner table. Elizabeth felt sick, but she managed to compose herself and continued laughing with the guests.
The dinner was a triumph, and despite her worries, she had to admit that rarely in her life had she felt more at ease than that night.
∞∞∞
She just finished her preparations for the night when Darcy knocked at the door between their bedrooms. Dressed in a beautiful burgundy robe, wearing his usual smile half mild half-ironic, he looked at her hiding under the blanket. “Well madam, have you decided if you still want to marry?”
Elizabeth stared at him in total disbelief, “Of course I want, I have told you so!”
She wanted to say much more, but she bit her lips to shut up. Was he trying now to renounce her? The horrible thought insinuated itself in her heart. She looked at him and asked with a weak and scared voice she could no longer control, “Do you?”
The small sentence contained all her fear. Maybe the marchioness had persuaded him to renounce their plan and to marry her instead.
But Darcy was neither impressed nor disturbed by the expression on her face…he did understand her concern, no matter how well she tried to hide. He seemed somewhat satisfied that she had experienced such turmoil believing he could have decided not to marry her anymore.
“Then, madam, tomorrow at noon the vicar wants to see our witnesses and us…”
Elizabeth sighed so loudly that Darcy looked at her in surprise but said nothing.
“Who are our witnesses?” Elizabeth asked full of amazement, for she had entirely forgotten they needed witnesses.
“We did not have much time to discuss the matter or to choose, so I think the colonel and Eleonor are the best witnesses we could find in such a rush.”
Elizabeth smiled—she was relieved and happy that their plans were settled—and Darcy could not but enjoy her happiness.
“So, goodnight madam, I hope you will rest and be prepared for tomorrow!”
She wanted to whisper, “Stay!” knowing exactly what could happen if he stayed. It was not a whisper coming from her mouth but one from her inner body—where his baby lay—that longed to be with him again. She whispered goodnight, not daring to say more…not wanting to confuse him, to make him question his decisions again. And in the end, she was uncertain if he was still willing to be with her. For surely the marchioness gave him what he needed. She wondered what that pain in the heart meant and could find but one answer: she was jealous. He was the father of her child and he loved another woman. The dream that followed was all about him, about them, how she remembered that night, her full submission, the perfect match and the bliss that followed. In the morning, she wondered if it was a dream, but the door to his chambers was closed and he did not appear for breakfast.
Chapter 19
The preparation for the wedding was not the happy time she imagined, for during the few days until the marriage Darcy kept disappearing and each time she had a single image in her mind: he and the marchioness together. She wondered how much a woman must love a man to accept such a situation, yet Darcy was her man…who seemingly was running to her each time he had a moment. His absence and her suspicions poisoned her life.
The only good times were when Darcy was with her—as in that afternoon when they visited the vicar.
The vicar was an old friend of the family, happy to officiate their wedding. There was an immediate liking between Elizabeth and him. He wanted to know more about her and his kindness and benevolence made Elizabeth’s heart sing.
Darcy decided to take a light carriage for their visit to the vicarage, without a servant. In the last days, they had been alone only to discuss unpleasant things. The bright day and the beautiful road to the chapel made both of them enjoy being together. For a long moment they forgot all the problems they had; Elizabeth put her head on his shoulder making him worry for her.
“Are you ill?” he asked.
“No,” Elizabeth said with a delicious sigh, “I am happy!”
She could not see his smile as he embraced her shoulders with his spare hand. They stopped near a stream to rest for a while; he was always worried she might be sick, but her red cheeks and beautiful smile reassured him.
“Look, a fish!” she cried happy as a child showing him a place in the water, but then she saw another one and another one.
“Do you like fishing?” he asked.
“No,” she said, amazed. “I thought a lady could not fish.”
“Well, on her property, a lady can do exactly what she pleases,” he answered cheerfully. He enjoyed the short trip and the moment of peace as much as she did.
She leaned with her back to him in search of support, but in fact, it was what she had wanted to do from their first moment together. Immediately his arms embraced her while she let her body be wrapped and supported and protected. After a while he made her turn in his arms, they looked at each other—the feeling between them growing with each instant, she caressed his face and he kissed her palm, she closed her eyes in a gesture of complete abandon. But the kiss she longed for did not come.
He took her into his arms carrying her the few steps to the carriage; she was disappointed not to be kissed yet she remembered being there, in his arms, before.
They rode in silence for some time incapable of speaking, but in the end, it was he to break the silence,
“I know you did not prepare a dress for the wedding and considering the story we delivered you have to look prepared…for the event. As you have seen, my mother’s dressing room is full of gowns, and I dare say they are so nice you could find something.”
“Are you saying I can choose a dress from your mother’s wardrobe?” she asked in wonder.
“Of course, Elizabeth; it is your room, your dresses, you are the mistress of Pemberley!”
For how long? She thought with sadness.
Chapter 20
There were plenty of dresses to see and choose from. Anne Darcy had been a refined and elegant lady and her dresses came directly from Paris. But most important Anne Darcy adopted the simplicity of the new style like a personal mark. Elizabeth could not choose for she liked so many of the dresses, but finally, helped by Georgiana and Jane, she decided on two, both in silk and delicate laces—one yellow and the other pale green. Elizabeth could not imagine how similar their silhouettes were, Anne was a little taller, but it did not matter much as changes could be made. Georgiana and Jane were looking at her in admiration as she tried on the dresses; they were a perfect fit and a splendid choice.
“Mama would be so happy to see you, I am sure!” Georgiana said while tears streamed down her face. Jane’s arms came to comfort her like she was a child.
“Come, Georgiana,” Jane said, “you do not want those beautiful eyes of your to be sad at your brother’s wedding. We told you that now you have two sisters and a brother!”
The ladies were asked to give their opinion; they looked in amazement at the beautiful dresses from Paris, a luxury the wars in Europe had forbidden in the present to the ladies from London.
“Darcy adored his mother and asked me, when he proposed, to have something old…from her, as a way to have his mother with us that day.”
Lady Deighton, who had been a close friend of Anne Darcy, came and caressed Elizabeth’s face, a completely unexpected and unusual gesture from a near stranger, “My dear,” she said with tears in her eyes, “God give you joy for your sensibility! I do not know another young lady who would make such a nice gesture for her future husband! Anne Darcy was a rare lady and you made a splendid choice! If I were you, I would wear the green one.”
