He broke off, and Elizabeth was certain he did not particularly wish to picture his parents doing any of the things they had done—certainly, she had caught herself wondering what her own father did that her mother had given such terrible advice, but she had shut those thoughts out immediately. She didnotwant to consider such for even a moment.
“I believe we should relegate my mother’s advice to the rubbish pile, along with all mentions of our parents or perhapsallother husbands and wives, when it comes to this particular topic. Granted,calf’s-feet jellyis an alluring phrase, and when one of us is inclined to partake in these activities, we could use the phrase, murmured so that others will not hear it….”
“Trust me, Wife, you could sayanythingand be alluring.”
“Shall we try?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
“If you please,” he said.
He looked eager and began to reach out for her even as she leant towards him and murmured, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Letting out a bark of laughter, he pulled back and shook his head. “I give.”
She laughed, too. But then she got up, swirled around to make her nightgown flutter, and said, “Oh, but Mr Darcy, sir, I do beg your pardon—but what I meant to say was ‘calf’s-feet jelly’!”
Fitzwilliam made a grab for her, which she eluded, and he chased his giggling wife down and growled in a low voice, “That, my dearest, Lizzy-est Elizabeth, is far too alluring to withstand.”
And his gentle kisses transformed into feverish ones as they once again found the bed.
Two more daysof travel and two more nights in the best inns money could procure seemed to Elizabeth to be everything a bridal tour should be. Fitzwilliam and she traded anecdotes of their childhoods and fully described the disappointments and betrayals that had helped to forge their characters. They discussed their ideas of marriage and parenthood in more depth than they had had a chance to do. He described their land holdings and investments and let her know how important she would be to the lives of their tenants and to their decisions about charitable endeavours. She told him how much more she valued exploring nature than attending social events.
“I know that very well, Elizabeth,” he said. “I was certain of that from your letters to Georgiana, and that was something I sought to confirm when we met again in-person. No matter how much I desired you to be my wife, I know that I vastly prefer the country to life in London, and I would not have continued my courtship if you were not of the same mind. I thought it just would not have been fair to you.”
Elizabeth nodded and added, “When we do go to Town, I hope we will go to more exhibits and performances than routs and balls.”
“Assuredly. We will decide together what we shall do. And since you have had less time in London than I have had, you will get the larger vote.”
When he had booked the inns ahead of time, via post, Fitzwilliam had written, “We will be newlyweds, on our bridal tour,” and they continued to receive rooms with thick walls and special congratulations from the innkeepers and their servants. Elizabeth was both amazed at and deeply satisfied by the variety of activities during which she didnothave to lie still and endure.
The scenery in Hertfordshire was beautiful, and as they travelled north, the varied English scenery remained beautiful. Naturally, it being late fall segueing to early winter, the beauty was of a stark flavour, with leafless trees etching the often-cloudy skies. The landforms became rougher and the vegetation wilder as they travelled north. Frost and ice appeared on the second morning, and by that evening they spotted snow on the gritstone escarpments. Finally, on the third day after the wedding, Fitzwilliam said, “Today we will reach Pemberley. Are you ready to see your new home, take possession of your role as mistress of a great house, and meet your many, many servants?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Goodness, when you put it that way, I am not certain Iamready. But….” She straightened her shoulders and continued, “Yes. I am eager to see Pemberley, although the high praises I have heard seem impossible, and I am steeling myself against disappointment. I know that nothing could truly match the adulations of Caroline Bingley.”
Fitzwilliam just smiled, and Elizabeth noted that he did not display even the slightest fear of her disappointment.
When Pemberley appeared, hours later, she realised why the man was so very confident. Anyone who was master of sucha huge—yet elegant, restrained even—such abeautifulhome would feel confident of his place in the world. As a matter of fact, it was surprising that Fitzwilliam was not a puffed-up, arrogant sort of fellow!
“I have never seen a home so beautiful, nor so beautifully enmeshed in its surroundings,” she said. “None of the praise has been exaggerated, after all.”
She felt a bit intimidated when they got close to the house and she saw for the first time the veritable army of servants lined up to meet their new mistress. She fiddled with her hair and smoothed her skirts, while still in the carriage, but Fitzwilliam laid one of his hands on her nervous hand and said, “You look beautiful, they will love you, and you were born to be the mistress of Pemberley.”
She felt that he might just be wrong about that last part—well, really, about all of it!—but he reminded her in a husky whisper, “I spotted you as the perfect mistress of my home when you were but fifteen years old. Since then I have met scores—likely hundreds—of ladies who wished to audition for the position, but none of them suited as well as you, and no auditions occurred. If you cannot trust that you are capable, you are saying that you do not trust my judgment.”
Elizabeth straightened, then, and said, “Well, I do trust you; therefore I shall be a capable mistress, fair with the staff and generous with the tenants, and naturally an excellent mother to your children.” Her eyes grew wide, and she whispered, “Oh my, it sounds like rather a lot!”
“Andyouwill do it all beautifully. But not all of it at this moment. Now we just have to step out of the carriage, smile at the staff, speak a few words, and climb a set of stairs. Are you ready to do those things?”
She laughed, shaking her head at his ability to infuse her with his confidence. “I am very, very ready, sir.”
They did all of those things. And if Elizabeth was surprised by the obvious respect in the faces of the bowing men and curtseying women, the warmth of the housekeeper’s greeting, the tears (happy tears, she was positive) in the butler’s eyes—she had only to see the echoes of respect and affection her husband showed all of his servants, and especially his senior staff, to understand why they seemed so very pleased.
The housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds, said, “I am so very glad to finally meet you. I have heard much of you, Mrs Darcy.”
“And you have been praised to the skies by both Mr and Miss Darcy, Mrs Reynolds. I cannot but feel that I am the most fortunate woman to have such a treasure already so capably running the home. I hope you will put up with my questions as you help me learn my new role.”
“Of course I will. But for now, would you like to retire to your own rooms? Have a bath? Eat a meal?”
Elizabeth glanced at her husband. He nodded, and she said, “I believe Mr Darcy can show me to our rooms, and if you could send some tea and a collation to our sitting room, we can refresh ourselves and rest as needed.”
