A Constant Love: A Pride & Prejudice Continuation, page 2
Mrs. Bennet retired to her room, to rest, and Mrs. Gardiner was left to explain to Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley that they were finishing the items for the Miss Bennets’s trousseaux. The wedding dresses were all complete, but there were still a number of other dresses and items to be finished and trimmed. Georgiana picked up a bonnet from the table and said she should like to try trimming it, while Mrs. Annesley applied herself diligently to embroidering handkerchiefs.
Some time passed in silence, all of the ladies working. Elizabeth looked up periodically to see that Georgiana still had sewn nothing on the bonnet itself, although she seemed to be working carefully on some pieces of fabric. Mrs. Annesley, meanwhile, worked with delicate little stitches. Then Elizabeth found herself concentrating on her own work, embroidering the hem of one of Jane’s dresses, and it was only Catherine’s exclamation that made her look back up:
“Why, that is the most elegant bonnet I have ever seen! You must teach me how to make the little roses, Miss Darcy, you must.”
Georgiana blushed, and Elizabeth could see that her sister’s praise was not overdone. The fabric Georgiana had been working on had been turned into tiny little pink roses, arranged artfully around the brim of the bonnet, with a pale green ribbon intertwined around them. Catherine moved to sit beside Georgiana, and Georgiana obliged her with a lesson in gathering and sewing the fabric to look as though it was a rose.
Thus began a somewhat unlikely friendship between Georgiana Darcy and Catherine Bennet. Georgiana had long been lacking in company her own age, and while she would be gaining Elizabeth as a sister, a married sister was not the same as an unattached friend of similar age, however different their expectations might have been. Elizabeth worried about the connection, at first – Kitty had, for several years, been nearly as silly as Lydia. But Kitty received her own private letters from Lydia, and she knew that married life with a man of insufficient income was not nearly the same as what her elder sisters were about to achieve. She had come to understand that a good marriage would be necessary for her future happiness and independence, although she still harboured hope that it might somehow be with a man who wore a red coat. She came to realise that she could no longer be amused by chasing after officers, and a friendship with a well-bred, accomplished young lady was far more desirable to her than it would have been before.
Georgiana, meanwhile, benefited from Catherine’s friendly, open manners, and as she visited them in the final days before the wedding, Elizabeth was happy to see that Georgiana had found another person she could speak to so comfortably. Mary, initially aloof, was pulled into their confidences when Georgiana heard that she was accomplished at the pianoforte, and asked to hear her play. As it had been a very long time since someone had actually asked to hear Mary play, this endeared Georgiana greatly to Mary, and Georgiana seemed none the worse for listening to Mary speak, sometimes at length, in her pedantic way.
Chapter 2
The wedding was generally deemed a success among their acquaintance. Those who were inclined to be happy for the couples thought Jane and Elizabeth looked quite elegant, Mrs. Bennet’s histrionics were kept to a minimum, and the vicar spoke well. Those few who were not inclined to be happy for the couples found little audience for their criticisms, and were as such forced into silence.
For Elizabeth, the calm scene within the church belied the hectic early morning preparations at Longbourn, where the cacophony of her mother and younger sisters as they finished packing Jane and Elizabeth’s trunks and helped them dress had done away with any sentiment Elizabeth might have had in leaving her childhood home. The only time she had come near tears was when her father had called her into his library the evening before and said: “Well, now, Lizzy, tomorrow you will be Mrs. Darcy. I shall miss you greatly.” She had expected him to finish his statement with some witticism about how there would be no sense in the house now, but he could not; there were tears in his own eyes.
The ceremony itself had held a surreal quality for her; it seemed unimaginable that all of those people were there, family and friends, that the events so long hoped and waited for were finally happening. Elizabeth had smiled a small, private smile as she reached the altar on her father’s arm, that here he was, handing her away to the man she’d once said was the last man in the world she would marry. Her thoughts were much occupied by the events that had led her and Darcy there, and she only half attended the vicar as he spoke, but managed her lines creditably. She had felt a thrill of anticipation when it came time for the gentlemen to kiss their new wives, but was disappointed when Mr. Darcy placed only a proper little chaste kiss on her lips. With so much anticipation she had looked forward to her first kiss, and it had not been so special as she had always imagined it would be.
But Elizabeth was not inclined to dwell on relatively small disappointments on such a day, and she had nearly forgotten it by the time the couples made a slow procession past their well-wishers, to the waiting carriages. Mr. Darcy handed her in and then sat down beside her, and Elizabeth felt the change in her status keenly, now – to be allowed to be alone with him, nay, to have every right to be alone with him – gave her quite a rush of delight.
“I do apologise, Mrs. Darcy,” he said, as the carriage pulled out to follow the now-Bingleys. “You know I must be most careful of observing decorum in front of such an audience, when what I truly wanted to do was this – ”
He leaned over and cupped her chin and kissed her deeply, and at that moment everything became perfect. She was thrilled by the sensation; she felt she understood him even better, now, that there would be a public Mr. Darcy, and a private Mr. Darcy, and as much as she had finally come to understand the former, the latter she would now discover.
“Did I truly look that disappointed?” she asked, when she had regained her breath.
“I believe it was more a case of felt, rather than looked.”
“Darcy – ”
“Are you to call me Darcy, too?” he cried. “Can no one use my Christian name, not even my own wife?”
Elizabeth had spent much time meditating on what she would call him, when they were finally married, and “Fitzwilliam” had seemed too much, but she was surprised by the vehemence of his reaction.
“Darcy, you must own that Fitzwilliam has far too many syllables for everyday use. What did your parents call you?”
“Son,” he admitted, which filled her with mirth.
“Well, Darcy, what I was going to say was that I find I rather like kissing, and I would have no complaints if – ”
He cut her off with another kiss before she could complete her statement, and the couple were still embracing when the carriage pulled up to Netherfield. Elizabeth consoled herself with the thought that they would be alone following the wedding breakfast for an entire month – Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley would return to London at first, to give the newlyweds some time alone, and then join them in Weymouth at the end of April.
Charles Bingley was always a generous host, Elizabeth reflected, as they entered Netherfield’s ballroom, but he had outdone himself this time. The ballroom had been filled with long tables – some of them built out of rough wood only a week ago, but tightly covered with tablecloth so that anyone who did not know would never guess at it. Nearly every chair in Netherfield had been pressed into service, and arranged around the tables. To supplement what fresh flowers could be had from Netherfield’s hothouse, bunches of dried lavender had been tied up in ribbons and placed about the room, so that the scent wafted about the guests as they took their places. These and so many other details had been attended, and Elizabeth assumed that her sister had been behind many of them, for Caroline Bingley seemed unlikely to be enthusiastic about preparations for such an event, when she was about to be supplanted as mistress of the house by Jane.
The Bingleys, Darcys, and Bennets took up the long table at the end of the room, and from her seat there, Elizabeth gazed with great felicity out over the family and friends taking their seats at the tables, as footmen with the first remove were already beginning to gather at their stations around the edges of the ballroom. For the first time, she felt a hint of sadness in knowing that she would see many of the people in this room but rarely in the future. She caught Charlotte Collins’s eye across the room and smiled at her friend; Charlotte had ignored her husband’s entreaties to avoid further angering Lady Catherine with her attendance, and come with the Lucases. Even seeing Charlotte again was in question; as long as Darcy refused any further communication with “that woman,” they would certainly never visit Rosings, and Elizabeth doubted Mr. Collins would allow her as a guest in his own house, when her presence there would be so objectionable to Lady Catherine.
The meal wound on in a leisurely fashion; the Bingleys were to stay a few days to see all of their guests off, before setting out for Scarborough so that Jane could meet her new relations, and the Darcys would stay the night in London, and from there make their way to Weymouth. When many of the guests had left, and only closer relations remained, Darcy called for their carriage, and Elizabeth was forced to listen to her mother’s final cries of regret about losing the daughter she had never favoured, and had, up until now, made it her life’s purpose to marry off. Elizabeth waved goodbye from the carriage window until they were well up the lane, and then settled into the seat beside her husband.
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So late was their departure from Netherfield that it was already dark by the time the carriage rolled into Mayfair and stopped in front of a large, handsome town house on Curzon Street. By the time Darcy had handed her out of the carriage, an impeccably dressed man and woman were standing on either side of the door, awaiting them.
Darcy introduced them as the housekeeper, Mrs. Wright, and butler, Mr. Miller, and explained that his steward, Mr. Richardson, was at Pemberley and spent most of his time there, managing the estate while Darcy was away. Each greeted her properly, and Mr. Miller held the door as Elizabeth stepped into a grand entrance-hall, sided by much of the rest of the staff. Each of them was introduced to her, such a flood of names that Elizabeth knew she would not remember half of them the next day. She would have to learn them all, but perhaps she would be allowed some lenience until she returned from Weymouth and was in daily contact with all of them.
Mrs. Wright informed them that dinner had been prepared in advance, as their time of arrival was uncertain, but that the stove had been kept hot so the food could be heated in as little as a quarter-hour.
“Very well,” Darcy nodded. “I will show Mrs. Darcy to her bedchamber so she may freshen up.”
He offered her his arm and they ascended the staircase to the first floor, then into a bedchamber that was finely furnished, although notably out of date. Elizabeth suspected that much, if not all, of the furnishings had been here when the previous Mrs. Darcy lived in the house.
“I had considered having it redecorated before the wedding,” Darcy said. “But then I thought you might prefer to oversee the decoration yourself.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth smiled. “It is quite nice as it is, but I should like that, eventually.” She liked the notion of being able to furnish a room entirely to her own taste, although it might be difficult to bring herself to get rid of the current furniture, all of which was much finer than any piece at Longbourn, even if it was no longer in fashion.
He led her through the room, into her dressing room, showed her the door that adjoined to his own dressing room, and from there into his own bedchamber, decidedly more modern, decorated with the same understated quality as she had seen in the rooms at Pemberley. She expressed her admiration of the style, and shared a lingering kiss with him before making her way back into her own dressing room.
Elizabeth could not yet change out of her travelling dress – her trunk had been placed in the room, but no maid had yet appeared to assist her – but she did wash her face and check her hair. With these things complete, she set about exploring her apartment: sitting on the chaise, then the bed, and opening the drawers of the desk. It was far larger than her room at Longbourn, and it was strange to realise she should have all of this space to herself, and in a town house no less. She was startled by a knock on the door, and Mrs. Wright entered with a deep curtsey.
“I beg your pardon, ma'am,” she said. “I wanted to speak to you about your lady’s maid.”
“Yes, of course,” Elizabeth nodded.
“I have a young maid, Miss Sarah Kelly, who has been most conscientious since she’s been in our employ here,” Mrs. Wright said. “She has occasionally served as a lady’s maid for guests in the house, and I have been of a mind to promote her – Mr. Darcy likes to promote from within the household, when people are deserving. I wanted to check with you, however; if you would prefer someone with more experience, you may advertise for the position as soon as you please.”
Elizabeth felt all the delicacy of this situation: Mrs. Wright was likely used to making these sorts of decisions on her own, and to overrule her might create an immediate rift with someone whose cooperation would be critical for her to be successful as mistress of the house. Yet to comply might tell Mrs. Wright that the new Mrs. Darcy could be manoeuvred into decisions, and would not stand up for what she wished to be done. It could not be a coincidence that Mrs. Wright had noted how Darcy liked to promote from within the house. Beyond these considerations, her lady’s maid would be the woman who dressed and attended her every day; a poor choice for someone in this role must necessarily affect her happiness until a replacement could be found.
“Even if you advertise for a lady’s maid, someone will have to attend me before the position is hired,” Elizabeth said. “Let us have Miss Kelly do so for now – you said she has served in the role for guests before. She may come with us to Weymouth and I shall see if I like her, and if so, she can be promoted on her return.”
“Very well, Mrs. Darcy.”
Mrs. Wright looked pleased as she curtsied again and left the room, but Elizabeth also felt pleased with the conversation. She had committed to nothing, but she had also shown herself to be open to considering Mrs. Wright’s choice. She left her bedchamber and descended the stairs, realising she did not know where the dining room was as she did so, but Darcy was waiting there in the hall to show her into a room so large it could easily seat twenty.
They sat at the far end of the table, and the empty expanse of table made Elizabeth slightly uncomfortable. She knew Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley spent much of their time living here, and she wondered if they also dined alone in the empty space, or if there was a more comfortable option elsewhere. Two footmen began serving the first remove – simple food that could be prepared earlier and then heated up, but still quite delicious, particularly as Elizabeth found herself hungry after the travel.
“You are quiet, Elizabeth,” Darcy said. “Are you tired?”
“No, I am merely afraid to speak,” she said. “I fear my voice will echo. Are Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley forced to dine by themselves in such a great cavern of a room?”
He laughed. “Yes, this room is wasted far more often than it should be. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley often dine in the garden when the weather is nice, unless the Fitzwilliams or Lady Catherine are in town and come to dinner. At Pemberley, at least, we have the option of using the small dining room.”
“And what is the relative difference between the small dining room and the large dining room?”
“The small room seats ten comfortably; the large upwards of two and forty. It has been some time since we have used it.”
“Well, never worry, soon enough Kitty will force us to have a ball there.”
“Once Georgiana is out in society, we will have to hold our share of balls, although most of them would be here.”
“Poor Darcy, you will be miserable, standing in the corner and glowering at all of Georgiana’s suitors.”
“I might take pleasure in dancing with my wife. That would be quite agreeable to me.”
He gave her such a look then as made her stomach churn with a combination of nervousness and excitement, and reminded her that tonight would be her first night in the marriage bed. This was not a new topic in her mind; she had been thinking of it periodically throughout the day, and especially when they kissed. Now, however, the event was only a few hours away.
Elizabeth suspected she was as well-prepared as any other young lady for what was to take place. Her mother had shrilled nonsense at her and Jane and rather frightened them, the morning before the wedding. But Mrs. Gardiner had later asked them if they would like to walk in the garden with her, and presented a vague, but more balanced notion of what was to happen. It would hurt, the first time, but then after that it could actually be quite pleasurable, she had said, blushing for the first time Elizabeth had ever known her to do so. Still, Elizabeth found herself drinking more wine than was usual for her in the course of the dinner; it did not help that the wine was a delightful claret that spoke to the quality of the house’s wine cellar.
It was late enough by the time they finished dinner that Elizabeth suggested they retire directly to bed, rather than the drawing room, and they ascended the stairs together before going to their separate chambers. Miss Kelly knocked promptly on Elizabeth’s door, entered, and curtsied deeply. She was a thin wisp of a girl, clearly of Irish descent, and even more nervous than Elizabeth.
“Sarah Kelly, if you please, Mrs. Darcy.”
“I am very pleased to meet you,” Elizabeth said. “Has Mrs. Wright informed you that you will be travelling with us to Weymouth?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am looking forward to it very much.”
As Sarah helped her undress, Elizabeth reflected that perhaps having a very nervous girl tend to a nervous woman not much her senior in years might not have been the best idea on this night. Yet at the same time, she found herself distracted by trying to make Sarah feel more comfortable; she could see that Mrs. Wright had been most correct in describing the girl as conscientious, and that Sarah wanted very badly to do well. She was, in fact, doing quite well, aside from a very evident trembling of her hands, and dropping a few of Elizabeth’s hairpins on the floor.
