Mr. Darcy's Promise (13 page)

“Oh no, you do not have to do that!” She felt a stab of panic at the idea of being undressed right in front of Mr. Darcy. Serafina was surely not aware of the particular arrangement between the two.

“Madam, you must lay down! You will be far more comfortable without your dusty shoes on.”

Elizabeth was quite determined that she did not want to
lay down. Her heart was most definitely not weak at the moment. She looked to Mr. Darcy for help. His eyes were on Serafina’s hands nimbly untying her laces of her other boot.
I must stop her!
She stood up quickly and said, “I am fully recovered, thank you. I do not wish to lay down.” She set her jaw and folded her arms in front of her.

Darcy had been so entranced in watching Elizabeth— even her foot was delicate and small, and beautifully shaped— that he hadn’t seen her evident discomfort with him being in the room. Recognizing her silent demands that he leave her to her privacy, and knowing she should really
lay down, he bowed and said, “Miss Elizabeth— I mean Mrs. Darcy, I will leave you to your maid. She is greatly experienced in service to the Darcy ladies. She even assisted with my own mother before she passed.” A pained expression came across his face before he bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth didn’t know if she should feel relieved that he was gone or confused at the strange loss she felt in his leaving. She obediently sat back down on the bed and let Serafina continue. “Is it true, Serafina?”

“About laying down? Yes, most definitely.”

“No, I mean did you help with his mother before she died?”

“Oui, it was many years ago and I was quite young. I had just started in service for the late master. Now you must lay down and recover before dinner. Is there anything I can fetch you?” She slipped Elizabeth onto the bed and laid a lap blanket on her, tucking it ever so carefully around her hips.

It was odd, Elizabeth thought, being so nurtured. Jane and she would comb each other’s hair frequently but in a family of five sisters
there was hardly time for any of them to be so doted upon. The changes in her new life were going to take some getting used to. “I have to admit that I have a headache. It has been there for quite some time. Is there some chamomile tea in the house?” Reminded of the soothing sensation of Jane combing her hair, she added, “And perhaps we could comb out my tresses for a time. It seems to help with my headaches.”

“Right away, madam.”
She left, but returned in what seemed like no time with the tea.

Elizabeth sat up to allow her access to her hair. She sipped on the chamomile as Serafina began to unpin her hair. Serafina began to brush rhythmically, smoothly drawing the brush through Elizabeth’s hair. Soon her tea was gone, and Elizabeth closed her eyes, letting herself surrender to the gentle pull against her tense scalp. Then Serafina put the brush down and her expert fingers helped soothe her tight shoulders and chaotic thoughts with just the right amount of gentle yet firm massage. The tension melted and her eyes became heavy. Without a word, Serafina gently guided her shoulders down to the pillow and lifted her feet to the bed.

*****

Elizabeth dreamed of a forest of cedar trees with a giant swing hanging from one of the aged branches. She felt large hands push her waist from behind, and heard herself laugh naturally in delight at being pushed. It was spring and the birds were singing. She couldn’t place where she was but knew without a doubt
who was pushing her. She didn’t look back behind her but could hear his laughter as well and could smell that familiar scent of wood and spice. His hands were firm and yet gentle against her back. “Dearest Elizabeth . . .” he said, stopping the swing. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and placed his hands on her lower abdomen. Elizabeth looked down as well, realizing with distress that it was swollen!

Suddenly Elizabeth was wide awake. She lay in the room, overwhelmed by the newness of everything. Even the curtains were unfamiliar, with nothing here to remind her of home. She reached for her stomach.
Flat! It was just a silly dream!

The motion reminded her, though, of how hungry she was. She looked around the room for a clock— surely it was late. It was quite dark and she could find nothing to gauge the time or how long she had been asleep. Her stomach growled loudly. Where was Serafina? She decided she would venture out to find her.

She opened the door and headed for what she hoped was the staircase when she saw a faint light under one of the doors. It flung open and she found herself standing face to face with Mr. Darcy.

“Elizabeth, how are you?” He reached for her hand. “Can I get you something?”

Right then her stomach growled again and her other hand reached to quiet it.

“Let me fetch you some food.” He turned to leave when Elizabeth spoke.

“Mr. Darcy . . .”

“William.”

Elizabeth once again ignored his request. The moment felt all too intimate as it was. “I was wondering how long I was asleep?”

“It is nearly midnight. So I would say about five hours. You did not answer my question, How are you? I have been very worried about you.”

The look of concern on his face was distracting. Could he really mean it? Could he care? She felt her heart flutter and the heat rise to her face. No, she told herself sternly. Hope was not healthy in this area. Companionship was all she dared hope for. She may think him handsome and at times kind, but he did not feel the same for her. A wave of emotion overcame her once again. She tried to collect herself and schooled her features.
I cannot let Mr. Darcy know he affects me so!
“I thank you, but a little bread and cheese is all I need.” He consented and promised to return shortly. She turned back to her room and flopped herself on the bed again. She wished she didn’t have to face Mr. Darcy so ofte
n.
No, what I really wish is that he did not affect me so!

The time ticked on as she sat in the darkness. Her headache was gone now but a different ache was starting deep in her chest. She
began to realize that he would be returning soon with the food and they would have another awkward moment in her bedchamber. She could only think of one thing to do to avoid him making her heart flutter so. She quickly made up her mind and laid back down on the bed and pulled up her covers. She hadn’t realized until then that her hair was still down and she groaned realizing that Darcy had witnessed her in such a state!
Being married to him will be harder than I thought.
She heard soft footsteps coming up the hall and she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.

Darcy saw her open door but gently knocked anyway. He could make out her figure on the bed but she didn’t stir. Her back was turned to him. “Elizabeth,” he whispered. He could barely make out her curls splayed across her pillow. He placed the tray of food and candle down.  He whispered again, “Elizabeth, your food is here.” When she didn’t stir he knew she had fallen asleep again. He didn’t want to wake her. Just then a curl fell across her face. He reached for
it, paused, and then continued. His hand had a mind of its own as it reached for that curl and gently placed it back towards her ear. He could see the shimmer of her profile dancing in the candlelight. He let out a sigh.
Being married to her will be harder than I thought.

T

he next morning Elizabeth stirred slightly, her
mindstill foggy with sleep before she was struck with the memory of Mr. Darcy touching her hair last night while she pretended to sleep. What possessed him to do such a thing? She had stayed up hours just contemplating it. That had been the third time he performed such an intimate gesture, and he had made a promise not to do it again. Were there other promises he has made that he planned on not keeping, specifically the one he made in the carriage yesterday? And if so, why make such a promise in the first place? She found herself feeling apprehensive at the thought. Nevertheless, it was a new day and she would continue with her commitment to be a good wife and build a companionship with Mr. Darcy, starting with dressing for breakfast! She had hardly pulled back the covers when she realized Serafina was in the room and had already started to attend to he
r.
Had she been watching me sleep, just waiting to serve me
?
She couldn’t help but be impressed by the thought. She let Serafina help her out of her wrinkled gown and into her best morning gown of sprigged muslin. Her mind wandered to their travel plans as Serafina fixed her hair into a very beautiful knot. Her thoughts wandered. Did they have to leave London so quickly? Perhaps she could visit her aunt and uncle while they were here, if Mr. Darcy could bring himself to visit Cheapside. She mentally chided herself for the thought. He would at least allow her to visit them on her own. She would ask Mr. Darcy at breakfast.

Elizabeth looked one last time in the mirror and smiled. “I have to compliment you, Serafina,” she said. “I have never achieved such results in such a short amount of time. You are truly an artist.” Serafina curtsied and turned to put away her toiletries. Elizabeth took this as her cue to go downstairs.

She descended the stairs slowly, her gaze fixed on the ceiling above. Its dome was inlaid with gold leaf, and circled with the same dark, intricately carved mahogany she has seen on the floor boards. The rest of the ceiling featured delicately painted ivy and pale pink berries; surely a master artist at work. She knew he was rich but this was beyond anything she could have imagined; even Netherfield was outshone by this elegance. She realized this was just the London house, she could only imagine how beautiful Pemberley will be. Her mouth was slightly agape when she heard someone call her from the bottom of the stairs.

“Mrs. Darcy, I thought perhaps we might have an early breakfast. Allow me to escort you, as last night’s tour didn’t extend to the dining rooms or kitchen.” Mr. Darcy couldn’t resist a smile at the memory of how last night she had been wandering the halls in the dark trying to find the kitchen.

She smiled in spite of herself; she was hungry, she had to admit, and his deep voice was smooth and welcoming. “Thank you, I am quite famished.”

They didn’t even have to ring for breakfast as it was brought in as soon as Mr. Darcy had led her to her chair. Her stomach growled quietly at the display of food in front of her. Normally, her breakfast was a simple repast of toast and tea, but when she gazed at the table saw a veritable feast. Here she saw oatmeal with sweet cream, a cold veal pie, a rasher of bacon, plum and pound cake, hot and cold rolls, freshly made marmalade, and both tea and coffee.

“Forgive me,” he said in response to her gaze. “I did not know what you like to eat in the mornings so I asked them to prepare a few of my favorites. I hope there is something to your liking." He relished the sight of her lovely form in a simple day gown.
And now I can see her every morning!
For the first time ever he thought,
thank you, Wickham, for being so evil to allow me this pleasure!

The simple act of kindness made her smile and sit more comfortably. “Mr. Darcy,” she said after a moment, lifting a slice of plum cake onto her plate. “Do we need
to go to Pemberley right away?”

He glanced up at her with some surprise. “No, as I said before we may do whatever you prefer. Do you have a preference?”

She set her fork on the side of her plate. She knew he did not handle her relations well, but she longed to see her aunt. “I have an aunt and uncle here in London,” she cast her gaze up at him, but continued, “in Cheapside, and it would be nice to spend some time with them before we leave.”

A small smile graced his features. It was a good sign, he reasoned, if she felt comfortable enough to make that request. And, on a more selfish note, he had wanted to take her to the theatre and show her around a little as well. “I would be pleased to meet your aunt and uncle.” Off her answering smile, he continued, “I am anxious to reconnect with a few people here in London as well, and would be pleased to introduce you to several of them. In fact, if we stayed through Saturday we could go to the theatre. Lord and Lady Matlock, my aunt and uncle, are eager to make your acquaintance.”

Elizabeth wondered what the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy wore to the theatre. One thing she knew was that nothing she had was likely to be appropriate. She looked up at him feeling lost as to what to say next, and took a sip of her tea. He seemed equally lost for words, and she devoted herself to the meal instead. What can be said between new spouses when there is no affection? 

*****

She spent all the morning in the library, absorbed in books. There was a pianoforte, she knew, in the east parlor, but she couldn’t bring herself to step outside of the one room she felt most comfortable in. She wondered what Mr. Darcy was doing. Working, no doubt. Or perhaps bemoaning this unfortunate marriage. She set her book down. All this idle time was not good for her mind. Elizabeth was really beginning to worry about what she would wear to the theatre. There had been no time to buy wedding-clothes, and the longer she thought about it, the more formed her idea became. It was better than sitting around doing nothing. It was London after all!

She asked the butler where she would find Mr. Darcy and was told he was in his study. She knocked on what she hoped would be the correct door and heard “enter” spoken loudly in his deep voice. She turned the knob nervously and stepped inside. He was sitting at his desk but stood when he saw it was her. His jacket was folded on the
side chair and he was just in his waistcoat which was unbuttoned. She had never seen him dressed so casually. She eyed his broad shoulders and watched his cravat rise and fall with his breathing. He bowed and asked how she found Darcy House. She gave her glowing impression. They stood in silence for a spell and then Elizabeth lost her resolve and turned to leave.
Perhaps it was not such a good idea after all.

“Elizabeth? Was there something you needed? I am really not that busy . . .”

She turned around and collected her nerves. “I was just wondering if . . . well when we go to the theatre . . . I must confess that I do not have anything grand enough for the occasion . . .”

He saw her discomfort and interrupted, “Perhaps I could show you around town and look at some of the shops. Perhaps we will find something you like. It is just under a week and I am sure they could fit a gown in that amount of time.” He stared at Elizabeth for a minute but she didn’t say anything.
Certainly she knows she can ask for a new dress!
He watched as her eyes still showed the anxiety of before. He thought maybe he should have been clearer.

A dressmaker would have to be paid handsomely to make a formal gown in less than a week. She was truly troubled. “I do not have my accounts ready,” she said hesitantly. She knew that she had some pin-money settled upon her, but could not remember the amount. The time before the wedding had been such a blur.

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I must clarify myself. Whatever you need, whatever you want, it is yours. As my wife you will be free to spend whatever you need. In fact, I will go with you today and we will get accounts set up in your name. I am ashamed I did not think of it myself. I have to admit I am not the most experienced man at dress shopping, but I could give you my input. Expense is not an issue. What was once mine is now ours.”

She couldn’t think of what to say! She thought of how Georgiana had claimed the servants felt him generous but she had not understood it until she saw his generosity firsthand. She was embarrassed to have asked for such a thing but truly, she had not brought anything appropriate. Feeling his generosity didn’t make the blow to her pride hurt any less.

He started buttoning his waistcoat and took his jacket off the chair, “Shall we?”

“Right now?”
She was hardly prepared to go out into London.

“The week gets shorter as we wait. Come, London has a great deal to see.” He was ecstatic that he could spend a whole afternoon together with her. “Let me check on something first.”

Elizabeth glanced around his study as he stepped out and called to a servant, speaking quietly with him before he busied himself with his watch. Soon she saw Serafina come from what she thought was the servants’ quarters and addressed Mr. Darcy. Curiosity prompted her feet forward to hear the conversation but she tried to be discreet. What would he want with her maid? She listened closely as they spoke.

“Mrs. Darcy and I are going shopping for her wardrobe. I need to know what my wife might need.”

Serafina started discussing what she knew she had brought from Longbourn and then offered suggestions for three day dresses, two or three evening gowns, a ball gown, new evening gloves, a nightgown, a set of ballroom slippers, and a new brush. Elizabeth could not believe her ears! That would nearly double the wardrobe she had brought with her! She was sure Mr. Darcy would not buy all of that for her! And a nightgown?Surely Mr. Darcy would not take her shopping for a nightgown! She looked away trying to appear that she did not eavesdrop but she was mortified! She blinked back tears and retrieved her pelisse from the butler who looked at her with what appeared to be sympathy. She met his gaze boldly and though
t
,
I do not want your sympathy!
If Mr. Darcy felt his wife’s wardrobe is in need of replacement then she must accept it. She recommitted herself to the idea of being a good wife. And a wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy must look the part.

“Shall we? It sounds like we have a bit of shopping to do.” He offered his arm and when she placed her hand on his arm he placed his other hand on hers.

Her embarrassment seemed to ease as he placed his hand on hers. His very touch seemed to calm her; well, all but her heart. It was beating fast and she had to focus on controlling her breathing. He handed her in the carriage and sat across from her.

They must have gone through every store on Daggett Street, a street she and her aunt never shopped on because of the prices and quality were higher than what Elizabeth could afford. In each store he introduced her as his “new bride, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy.”
Would he ever get tired of such an introduction? It is like he is proud of it!
Several shop owners greeted her with kind words, but she felt their eyes looking her up and down, evaluating who the lady was who finally caught Mr. Darcy in the parson’s mousetrap. She overheard Mr. Darcy on several occasions set up an account for her personal use at any time, insisting on “no limits.” She tried to express her gratitude several times, but he would not hear it. They found several dresses already made but had to peruse fabrics and patterns for the ball gown and the evening gowns. Each time they brought their packages into the carriage and headed to the next store the carriage got fuller. On the next stop, Elizabeth was measured and sized up right in front of Mr. Darcy. He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him as if he was actually enjoying shopping for women’s clothing.

He watched with amazement as the dressmakers stretched measuring tapes around her shoulders, arms, chest, waist and height. He was entranced in watching her form. He noticed she kept looking in his direction and each time would look away quickly and a brief blush would come to her face. Once when this happened he gave her a grin and she in turn returned the look with an impertinent lift of her eyebrow. He had only accompanied Georgiana a time or two before, and it had offered him plenty of that experience for his tastes. But this was entirely different. Rather than watching his sister vacillate between
a sprigged or plain muslin, he was watching Elizabeth select whatever gowns she would need for their life together. She was building a future as Mrs. Darcy. He had to admit, he was actually enjoying it. He went through the list in his head of what Serafina had suggested. All that was left was the slippers, gloves, and nightgown. The slippers and gloves would easily be found at the milliner’s shop but he had no idea where to shop for woman’s nightwear. Would it even be appropriate for him to buy such a thing? He was certain she would neither need nor desire his help with that. But Serafina had said she needed it.

The shopkeeper interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Darcy, I believe I can have the gown ready by Friday morning but I will need to do a fitting Thursday. If the other two gowns are not needed right away I can have them ready in two weeks.”

“Very well,” he said. It seemed that Elizabeth was immersed in a selection of ribbons, and he took the opportunity to privately ask a question of the shopkeeper. “Where might we find a lady’s nightgown?”

The shopkeeper smiled knowingly and said, “That kind of thing can only be found at Ellen’s. It is around the corner to the north off Hawthorne Street.”

He thanked her and then went to retrieve Elizabeth but then something the shopkeeper said tickled his brain . . . “that kind of thing . . .”
Oh no! She thought I meant something far different from a simple nightdress!
He turned quickly back to the shopkeeper and clarified himself. “I fear my wife is quite modest and prefers simple attire at night. Is there another shop that might be more appropriate?”