“I beg your pardon, Mrs Darcy. I see no one has broughttea. I shall see to it this instant. Is there aught else you need ma’am?” she asked stiffly, her cheeks turning dusky as she spoke.
“I would be grateful for a little hot water and the delivery of my trunks.”
This gentle reproof seemed to reverberate around the room. Mrs Reynolds looked near to falling back as if she had been struck. I suspected the woman, having been prepared to hate me, had intended to daunt and intimidate me through the simple expedient of knowing her business and lording over me. I would be made to feel the interloper, the novice, the unwelcome ignoramus. Instead, Mrs Reynolds entered into our association on the back foot as she murmured another mortified apology for her incompetence.
It occurred to me that perhaps Mr Darcy’s housekeeper would hate me a little less if only I could strike the right tone.
“I could hardly expect any attention before Mr Darcy was attended to. Might I ask how he fares?”
Once again, the entire room seemed to respond to my words. This time it seemed to exhale like a living thing along with everyone who stood therein.
The housekeeper suddenly looked much less like a resentful witch and much more like a kindly grandmother. She replied, “He is resting, ma’am. I believe you were right when you said he has caught cold.”
“He insisted on riding more often than I would have liked. But should we not call for his physician? He would not let Romney fetch anyone in Nottingham.”
“No, ma’am. He is not one for being physicked. I have made up a special tea for the headache as I have done since he was a boy.”
“If he is in your care, then I may rest easy. You will let me know if he worsens?”
“Of course. I shall see to your refreshments ma’am, and may I welcome you to Pemberley?”
“I feel welcome indeed, thank you. When the maid comes with my hot water, I wonder if she would take Wilson to her room. I shall want to rest for a little while.”
Mrs Reynolds then deigned to notice Wilson, who curtseyed respectfully, and thus they were made known to each other.
Miss Darcy received a slight nudge from Mrs Annesley, prompting her to say, “If you are not terribly tired, Mrs Darcy, we planned to sit down to a light supper later, but if you would prefer a tray in your room, I perfectly understand.”
“I shall join you if I may. But will you come for me? I am afraid I would not know where to go.”
This invitation for a less formal acquaintance seemed to take the girl by surprise, but I maintained an expression of open goodwill, so Miss Darcy agreed to escort me with the look of dawning pleasure on her face.
You poor, dear, girl, I thought. I mean to have at least one friend here, and I will be relentless in making you like me.
11
Thebearkept to his room for three days together. He was not well, but I gathered he was not too ill to attend to whatever he considered his responsibilities. Throughout the day, various persons walked the long hall to and from his private apartments carrying packets, rolled maps, and cases of paper. I was sincerely grateful he was occupied and sequestered in his room because I had a great deal to learn about his house.
The morning following my arrival, I sat down with Mrs Reynolds and Miss Darcy for tea. The housekeeper looked faintly shocked by this exceptional breach in protocol, but I did not intend Pemberley to remain such a formal house, and I thought to announce as much to everyone by this gesture. I asked many questions, and I listened carefully. At the end of our conference, I proposed that since wedding visits from the neighbours would be necessarily curtailed by Mr Darcy’s indisposition—as would our appearance at church on Sunday—I would make use of my time by travelling on Monday tothe dressmaker in Derby as well as in becoming acquainted with the house and its workings.
I took a quarter of an hour to write a note to Mr Darcy, informing him of my plan. His reply came directly on the heels of my dispatch.
Madam—
Do as you wish so long as you do not turn this house on its head, spend more than is already spent, inconvenience me, or distress my sister.
FWD
“Is aught amiss, ma’am?” Wilson asked, no doubt having seen my eyes widen in disbelief at my husband’s incivility.
“Not in the least. Shall we go? Have you everything we need for this expedition? I place myself in your hands. Do not swamp me in a tower of flounces, and I will be delighted with whatever you suggest.”
Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley accompanied us to Derby. They made gentle attempts to become acquainted, but since both ladies were extremely well bred, they refrained from asking intrusive questions. I enquired after the neighbourhood, the church where they worshipped, the rector, the estate, and the usual tempo of daily living. What I heard woven throughout their replies was this: excepting the ducal seat, Pemberley was the premier estate in the county. Mr Darcy was well-known for his enlightened management of the land, he was considered fair in all his dealings, respected uniformly by seemingly everyone, and admired by many for his devotion to duty, attention to detail, and for his reserve. I could not help but shudder, albeit inwardly, upon hearing Mr Darcy was a serious, careful man without a frivolous bone inhis body. He was the least likely man in the world to be caught in a compromising circumstance!
I recalled the useless frivolity of my mother and two youngest sisters, and I thought of my own father’s lack of what Mr Darcy possessed—a sense of responsibility to those who looked to him for support and guidance. My reflections filled me with dismay. The single comfort in Miss Darcy’s disclosures was that apparently, my husband was reserved. No one would expect him to show feelings of affection towards me in public, and I would be the subject of a little less speculation, or so I hoped, when subjected to his frigid formality.
The dressmaker would send me a bill in the usual manner, but in my head I kept a running account, for I had no wish to begin my life as Mrs Darcy burdened by any form of indebtedness. Thus, my seventy-five pounds were sacrificed save five, which I held back for contingency. This amount was more than sufficient to see me to my aunt and uncle Gardiner in London should I feel compelled to escape. I would not run away, I knew, but I liked to believe Icould.
One ball gown, three day-dresses, two dinner dresses and one walking dress were ordered with all their attendant trappings and undergarments. Gloves, slippers, bonnets, shawls and a cloak left me with just enough to stop at the booksellers, where I bought a diary and a well-used volume of the musings of an Irish poet named Thomas Moore.
