They talked of happier things after that, and Jane even showed Elizabeth the house. The visit was too overshadowed by their quarrel for there to be hope of a complete recovery, however, and they parted soon after. Elizabeth spent the remainder of the day in a fog of indignant disappointment, unable to fathom how the argument had come about. Not until many hours later did she feel calm enough to relay the exchange to Darcy.
They lay entwined in the dimly lit cocoon of his bedchamber. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was curled into Elizabeth’s favourite half-smile, and he held her tightly to his side. The arrangement made her wish to forget the outside world—but she could not.
“I called on Jane this afternoon,” she said quietly.
“Was she well?”
“Yes, only…” She sighed heavily. “We quarrelled.”
He looked down at her. “About what?”
“Everything! There was little I said that did not seem to displease her in some way.” She rolled onto her back and looked up into the darkness of the canopy. “She apparently found the ball quite trying. I believe she felt a little out of her depth.”
“Why should that make her angry with you?”
“Because I did not notice or do anything to assist.”
“It is not your responsibility to play nursemaid to your sister, Elizabeth.”
“No, but it would have taken but a moment to warn her that she might encounter some disdain.”
“Wasshe openly disdained? I must say I saw nothing of it.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I know not. She said only that she disliked the want of consideration some people showed her.”
“Perhaps she was jealous of your greater notoriety.”
His voice dripped with sarcasm, but Elizabeth did not blame him. Though she had been tolerably well received at the ball, Lady Catherine’s industrious calumny and the general prejudice of Darcy’s set had ensured that hers was a conspicuous and somewhat perilous entrance into society. Jane’s presence had been of comparatively little interest to anybody. Had her complaint been the lacklustre nature of her own reception? Elizabeth chafed at the notion. If Jane begrudged her greater share of attention, she was most welcome to it!
Darcy pulled her back against him and placed a gentle kiss atop her head. “I have offended you. Forgive me.”
“Not at all. She was certainly severe on me.” She wrapped her arm about him and nestled closer. After a moment’s consideration, she enquired, “Was I uncivil to Lady Ashby?”
“Indeed not! Quite the reverse. Why?”
“Jane thought I was.”
He made no response though he adjusted his shoulders restlessly. His silent agitation spoke volumes.
“Pray, be not angry with her. I believe—I hope—it was only concern that made her speak thus. She is anxious I should not be disliked by my new family.” She thought it unwise to add that Jane feared for the longevity of his affections in the face of any prolonged antagonism.
He gave a sardonic huff. “I should not like it if my sister married and suffered the same scorn from her new family as you have received from mine, but if she did, I should not blame her.”
Elizabeth raised herself onto her elbow and looked down at him. “I can tolerate your family’s disdain with perfect indifference, but I am less willing to see them despise you because they cannot like me. Clearly, I must make some effort.” She kissedhim lightly on the tip of his nose. “And you never know—in ten or twenty years, I might even persuade a few of them to like me.”
He lifted her hand from where it lay on his chest and kissed her fingers. “Lady Catherine already likes you. It is why she despises you so violently. It is exceedingly inconvenient to her that she should esteem the person responsible for ruining all her plans. And I wish you would not waste a moment more of your time on my cousin’s ridiculous wife. We can live very well without Lady Ashby’s good opinion.”
Elizabeth let out a long sigh. “Both our families seem determined to make us pay for our happiness. How long ere we leave? I would go home!”
In answer, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back, gazing at her fiercely with eyes cast jet-black by shadows—or fervour, she knew not which. Then he stretched over her to the nightstand and snubbed out the candle, surrendering them to the intimate secrets of the darkness.
Wednesday 22 July 1812, Derbyshire
Mrs Reynolds waited in a vanguard of staff on Pemberley’s front steps and watched the approaching carriage with trepidation. She had been employed at Pemberley for four-and-twenty years and had never been given cause for complaint. Yet, whomever Mr Darcy had chosen as his wife had the potential to affect her own life and work significantly, and she wished, at her age, that neither would be too grievously disrupted.
On either side of her were Mr Barnaby and Mr Maltravers, neither of whose thoughts on the master’s marriage was known to her. As steward and butler respectively, both men were of such assiduous loyalty as all but prevented either of them having an opinion on the matter, which left her alone in her nervousness.
Fortunately, her first impressions were favourable. Though very young, Mrs Darcy seemed friendly, unaffected and quaintly handsome. The master certainly appeared vastly taken with her, his manner well pleased as he introduced her to the household. In short order, the presentation was complete, the majority of the staff dismissed, and their party removed within doors.
