He did not let himself dwell on the matter. Elizabeth had every right to be angry, and at least she wasn’t afraid any more. God willing, he would not scare her again. He had frightened even himself with the violent accusations he had hurled at her.
After his outburst he began to notice all of the things she had been doing for him, since their wedding. He had been oblivious!
His wife had not touched a single drop of wine herself, even though he would not have resented it. Whenever he was stricken by the urge to drink, Elizabeth made jokes and told him more engaging stories to distract him. Had his pride not been hurt, Darcy would have thanked her for learning the signs so well, and for helping him unbidden. But he had been blind to her and her gentle care and thought he was fighting the demon alone.
The Darcys ended their honeymoon much as they had begun: cordially, but not affectionately. They were both still unsure of the other’s mind.
It was Elizabeth who finally put words to the issue. Darcy had begun to speak of going to Rome for the autumn, but she refused at once. Even though her heart ached with the thought of seeing the pines and endless vineyards of Italy, she knew that it was not the right time. Darcy clearly wanted to find a way to bring them closer; England had failed them, and so they were to go to Italy. And what next? The moon?
“I doubt even Cicero himself would be able to make a difference.” she told him, “We are as well acquainted as we could hope to be. I cannot learn more about you while we are away.”
Darcy did not understand her meaning. In his mind, taking Elizabeth away from her troubled past and her heavy worries would be the perfect cure. If she was happy, then she would be able to find peace in her new life. Elizabeth thanked him for the thought, but explained her own:
“I know how you are with me, which is to say kind, attentive and very, very cautious. There are other sides to you. I would like to see Mr. Darcy the gentleman, or the host, or the overseer of hisestate. And I would like you to see me as something other than a strange woman whom you shower in gifts.”
“You are not strange, Miss Bennet!” he protested with a small smile. To his surprise, Elizabeth blushed.
“I am when I am around you.” she confessed and then turned her intelligent eyes on him. “I must move out of the sun, or I shall get burned. Go and shine on others, sir, so that I can admire you from afar.”
Darcy laughed at the teasing, over-eloquent speech. “What of you, Miss Bennet? How will you allow me to admire you?”
She smiled crookedly, “As your wife, sir. It is past time for me to learn how to be Mrs. Darcy. I should learn about your household, and my duties on the estate - and meet my new sister.”
“I told you, Elizabeth: you must not feel obligated to be my wife.”
“Oh, I do not.” she replied, her skin going a little pink, “I did not mean that we should… I know that you do not require me to… um. I meant that I cannot be your guest forever, sir. You have been so kind, and I have done nothing but take. I will grow lazy, sir! I must find my own purpose.”
“Very well,” he said, smiling crookedly, “Then we shall go home.”
Chapter 13
Mrs. Reynolds was rarely surprised. Her life was a fixed routine of timetables and management. It was predictable and comforting. Sometimes, she even had the opportunity for pleasant reflection.
Pemberley had been her home for decades. She cherished every hour of it. There were ups and downs, of course. She had watched the young master and mistress grow… and watched them shrink. But such things happened, and were overcome in the end. She was patient, sensible, and her quiet determination had made just as much difference to the Darcys as their own silly schemes.
While other housekeepers scorned passivity, hungry for the busy renown of large gatherings and glamorous balls, Mrs. Reynolds was at ease in a quiet house. She liked the steady passage of time, and relished only the small suspense of an unexpected visitor. In fact, the house was so well managed that such a stranger would have been appointed a room and a footman even before they reached the end of the drive.
The servants were obedient, just as comfortable with their quiet lives, and had very few squabbles to mediate. The master was generous and had given them whole days (not half days!) andleave to explore the estate at their leisure. When the house was empty, the servants could even go to bed early.
Their only serious task was to look after Miss Darcy, for all the good it could do. The doctor had urged them to hire a nursemaid-companion, and the woman he had sent was more trouble than ten rowdy gentlemen combined. She was irascible, greedy and demanding, and wheedled a great many luxuries ‘for dear Miss Darcy’. Mrs. Reynolds detested her but had no authority to replace her. The doctor only saw her pleasant face, and Mr. Darcy was the only one who could oppose that goodly man. Until the master returned, Miss Crocker knew that she was safe. And oh, how she abused that!
But, still, it was predictable. Mrs. Reynolds could manage it calmly, and Mrs. Reynolds was rarely surprised.
When the letter arrived, she had to sit down and have a strong cup of tea.
The master was coming home! This was pleasant news by itself. He had been away for months, only dropping in for a few fleeting days to see his sister. This meant that matters of the estate could not be raised, and he certainly had no cause to seek out his loyal housekeeper.
This time would be different. The letter spoke of a prolonged stay - indeed, it sounded as if the master was going to stay in his home indefinitely. He would be in Pemberley for long enough to return to his duties. Not just the administrative concerns which he had managed from afar, but the actual tasks of the estate. Perhaps he would even fire the awful Miss Crocker!
Mrs. Reynolds allowed herself a wry chuckle. Nowthatwould be a miracle.
She continued reading and came across a section which puzzled her exceedingly. Mr. Darcy gave directions for a suite of rooms to be made available for a young lady. He was very particular about them. They were not to be guest rooms, but family rooms in the East Wing. The only family member Mrs. Reynolds could think of who would make such a demand was Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who was definitely not young! No, she had no idea who the lady could be.
The most perplexing instruction was yet to come:
The suite should be close to mine, but not so near as to intrude upon her privacy. If her desire is to be further away from me, then you must ensure she is moved without delay. Pray ready other rooms in case this occurs. When she arrives, she will make her wishes known.
How incomprehensible! Close, yet far away!
