“Hannah, why has Mrs Darcy’s fire not been lit?”
“Begging your pardon, Mr Darcy, none of the bedroom fires have been lit. We’ve run out of coal.”
Elizabeth bit the insides of her cheeks to prevent herself from laughing, Hannah’s expression of terror and Darcy’s palpable disbelief persuading her this was not the time.
“Run out of coal?” Darcy repeated incredulously.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you comprehend the absurdity of that statement? This is a coal-producing estate. You must be mistaken.”
“I wish I was, sir. But it were Mrs Reynolds who used to arrange for the coal to be brought in when it were running low, and no one who’s been taking it from the stores thought to tell anyone else when it got low, ’cos they all assumed it’d just turn up like it usually does. Only then it din’t, and this morning, there were none left. We’ve had to take all the coal from the bedrooms to heat the dining and drawing rooms, for we thought you’d rather be warm while you was eating.”
“Matthis said nothing of this to me just now.”
“I don’t know as Mr Matthis knows, sir. I’ve sent word to Mr Gabion, and he’s coming first thing wi’ more. I’m sorry, sir. Truly.”
“If Matthis does not know, then I can only assume it is becausehestill has coal in his grate.”
Hannah reddened and looked at the floor. “I don’t know, sir. I din’t think to look for any in there. We’re not allowed in the men’s rooms.”
“So, you took it from your new mistress’s room instead?”
“A-and yours, sir. I would’ve brought up some logs, but they won’t burn proper in a coal grate.”
“I am aware of that,” Darcy snapped. “Find some coal from somewhere and light this fire this instant.”
Hannah hastened away to see to it. Elizabeth waited only for the door to click closed behind her before she let out the laughter she had been holding in throughout the interview.
“How is this remotely amusing?” Darcy exclaimed.
“Because having enough coal to heat her cottage is what I lectured Lydia about before she left Longbourn. And now we do not have any in the whole of this enormous house.”
“That makes it less amusing, not more.”
“Poor Hannah, she did what she thought was best. And I own, I should rather a cold bed than a cold dinner.” She looped her arm around Darcy’s and placed a hand on his chest. “I promise to keep you warm.”
He raised an eyebrow but had not the time to act upon whatever thought had occurred to him before two other maids burst in carrying one of Elizabeth’s trunks between them. They dropped it in fright when they espied their master and mistress embracing in front of them. Pre-empting Darcy’s certain anger, Elizabeth asked him to leave her to change. She enlisted the maids’ help in refreshing herself after her travels and readying for dinner, satisfying herself in the process that, friendly though they were, neither they nor Hannah were contenders for the role of housekeeper.
Dinner might as well have been cold for all that she enjoyed it, but she was resolved to reveal no hint of her dissatisfaction to Darcy. The food aside, she relished sharing a meal with him at his table. He fitted into his surroundings as well as he did his clothes, as though Pemberley had been tailored to suit him. They conversed unceasingly, laughed often, and several times startled the servants with the liveliness of their discussion. It was all going swimmingly, in fact, until Darcy had an unfortunate recollection.
“You do not like ragout,” he said, looking up from her still half-full plate. “I recall you talking to Hurst about it at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth gave him a crooked smile and shook her head. “But it does not matter. It is perfectly wholesome. I shall not go hungry.”
“It does matter. This is your first meal here as mistress, and I did not even think to notify Chef of your preferences. I shall have him send something different up.”
“You will do no such thing!” Turning to the servants, Elizabeth said, “And you will not repeat a word of this to Monsieur Dubois if you have any compassion. Indeed, I beg you would give him my regards and tell him I enjoyed the meal very well. I will not offend the poor man on my first day here.”
Matthis assured her of their secrecy. “There is a blancmange for dessert, Mrs Darcy. Would that be to your taste?”
Her heart sank. She cast a rather desperate glance at Darcy, who took her meaning directly. “Pray tell Chef neither of us are overly hungry this evening and to save dessert for another day.”
“Very good, sir. Should you like some coffee in the drawing room?”
Elizabeth agreed that she would and stood to go through together with Darcy, wishing the evening had not soured so quickly. “I assure you I am not particular—I will eat most things. It is just rotten luck that those are two of my least favourite dishes. I hope I have not offended you.”
“Not at all.Iam sorry that it was not a more enjoyable meal.”
