“Certainly, I cannot prevent you from forming any thought you wish, Mr. Darcy. I have not even been able to control my own thoughts, of late.”
A strange expression crossed Darcy’s face then, a stillness that she had not seen before. Elizabeth wondered why it was suddenly hard to breathe. When he spoke, his voice took on a low note she had not heard before. They were joking, of course, but it felt like somethingelse.
“Tell me what you wear in the summer, Elizabeth.”
She shivered. When had she wrapped her arms around her stomach? Why did her heart pound? A surge of defiance rose in her stomach, and she met his eyes boldly.
Yet she could not answer! Her words choked her. Darcy took pity on her then and broke the spell by quipping: “Ah, a pompadour wig and a striped velvet ballgown? How very fashionable you are, Mrs. Darcy. Shall we go for our walk before the snow melts?”
He kissed her under a yew tree, in the darkness beneath the branches. It was the lightest caress, his lips barely brushing hers.
Then he took her hand and they watched the dancing snow.
Chapter 21
Elizabeth had not put much thought into her evening gown since arriving at Pemberley. Darcy’s disappearance had started an informal routine that they did not break when he reappeared. When his wife tentatively asked if she should dress for dinner he told her to do as she wished; it was her home, and he wanted her to feel comfortable. Elizabeth compromised by wearing her nicer dresses from home. After all, there was nobody she wanted to impress.
But now, she thought, therewas.
She thought of the clothes that Darcy had insisted she order during their honeymoon. She had thought them far too expensive at the time, not knowing how very grand Pemberley was. Still, she could not imagine wearing them outside of a ball or an elegant gathering.
The dressmakers had advised her as to current fashions and made it clear that money was no object. Mr. Darcy had been most insistent, and the dressmakers were keen to make his wide-eyed wife spend as much of it as possible. An endless assortment of silks, velvets, glass beads and golden thread were paraded before her. The dressmakers thought that the young lady would impulsively spend a fortune. Instead, totheir chagrin, she chose elegant fabrics with no ostentatious trimmings. The clothes would still be exquisite, they assured her, but…
Elizabeth knew that she had irritated the dressmakers, but she was just as irked by them. She knew they saw her as an easy mark.
Darcy had raised an eyebrow when he was told of the expense. Elizabeth, who still barely knew him at the time, apologised for spending too much. He gently explained that most women would have spent twice as much. He was thinking of Caroline Bingley, of course, whose accounts had made her brother wince. Lizzie agreed, for she thought of Lydia. Her little sister would have bought everything she was offered and then go to the next shop and ask formore.
The dresses were not finished before they came home but were sent to Pemberley after they arrived. Elizabeth had not even considered wearing one until now. She could barely remember what they looked like, so she gasped aloud when she unpacked one marvel after another.
In the end she decided on a pastel yellow dress made from simple muslin. There were a few flowers embroidered onto the neckline, picked out in such delicate pinks and greens that the whole dress gave off the impression of a sweet spring morning. Her hair was left in simple curls, but she wove in a comb which Jane had given her as a birthday gift a few years before. It peeked out shyly from her dark hair, shining without shouting. Finally, she threaded the necklace Darcy had given her around her neck. It did not match the rest of the outfit, but the dark green stone seemed to glow against her pale skin.
Looking in the mirror, Elizabeth felt more confident than she had for weeks. Never mind her strange husband, never mindthe judgemental servants. Tonight, she truly was the mistress of Pemberley.
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up when she came down for dinner an hour later. He was silent until he pulled out her chair. Then he whispered into her ear, “You truly look like an angel tonight.”
She blushed, pleased and anxious, and trembled when he leaned even closer. His breath was warm against her skin.
“But this morning, dearest, you looked like my Elizabeth.”
“Which do you prefer?” she murmured back.
Darcy smiled and ran one finger gently down her neck. “Whichever one makes you happy.”
After that it was a struggle to eat her food. Elizabeth felt clumsy in her own skin. Every time she looked at her husband he gave her the most heated look, which made her tremble all the way to her toes.
Darcy’s mood suddenly changed when they got to dessert. Watching Elizabeth carefully, he said: “I have agreed to visit my neighbour’s estate. Our lands border each other, and there are issues with drainage which we need to resolve before the spring. The snow has proven too much for our farms, and it has become rather urgent.”
His meaning slowly came to her, and she stared at him, “Do you mean you’re going away?”
Darcy nodded. “Only for a few weeks, I hope. There is much to do. I am leaving before sunrise.”
Elizabeth nodded, looking at her feet in the pretty shoes she had never worn before. “I understand.”
“When I come back, we…” he reached out an took her hand, an awkward apologetic fumble. “We should talk, I think.”
“You have shocking timing.” she whispered, “I was hoping we could talk tonight.”
His hand tightened on hers for a moment, and then he took a deep breath and let go. “When I come back, I promise.”
