Read Mr. Darcy's Promise Online
Authors: Jeanna Ellsworth
Elizabeth bit back the tears of disappointment that sprang to her eyes. He would need t
o
endur
e
her appearance tonight? Soon anger replaced the disappointment and she opened her mouth in rebuttal. “Well, perhaps I should not go if my appearance is not
tolerable
to you. I would not want to embarrass you in front of all your friends and family.” She bit her lip, stopping herself before she said more.
Darcy was confused. She was obviously offended by what he said. Not tolerable? He knew she was referring to his comment at the Meryton assembly.
Will I ever live that down? She is everything beautiful and perfect!
“Let me explain myself . . .” he began.
“No, Mr. Darcy, I believe you have made yourself quite clear.” She turned around and for the first time saw herself in the mirror. Never had she even hoped to be wearing something so fine. She brushed her fingertip against her puffed sleeve, marveling at the careful construction of the pleats. She watched in the mirror as Darcy approached her from behind. He reached into his waistcoat and took out a gold chain. Careful not to disturb her braids, he reached around her neck to place a necklace there.
In the center of the necklace hung a simple emerald, with a pearl dangling beneath. The shape of the chain was perfectly matched to the neckline of her gown. His hands worked to fasten it securely behind her neck, so she stood in silent awe, watching his head bent behind her. It seemed to take an enormous amount of time to clasp the necklace and she felt his breath on her neck giving her chills. His hands seemed to have their own pace as each touch or brush of his fingers on her neck seemed to extend the moment into eternity.
Mr. Darcy was having a difficult time fastening the necklace as he had never done such a thing before. The clasp was so little and his hands were shaking!
Good Lord! Just finish it already
!
His gaze kept wandering back to the smooth feminine line of her neck and the loose ringlets that escaped Serafina’s careful work
.
His hands finally accomplished the task and he stepped back, clasping his trembling hands behind him. “If I may clarify, you have never looked so tempting before and that is what I must endure tonight.” He then bowed before he turned around and left the room.
*****
Mr. Darcy returned to his room feeling the heat of embarrassment.
Why did I let my guard down with her again? Her feelings for me obviously have not changed
.
The flash of anger in her eyes, her silence as he fastened the necklace around her neck, and her scornful response all told him that she did not wish to go to the theatre tonight. At least not with him
.
Could she still be pining over Wickham?
By gads! How beautiful she looked!
His valet was waiting with his cufflinks and his everyday pocketwatch. “No, Martin, tonight I will wear the gold watch.”
Martin looked at him and then cleared his throat. “Sir, I cannot find it.”
“Cannot find it? Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean it is nowhere to be found. I went to retrieve it this evening, but it is not where I usually store it. I am sorry, sir, but I realize I do not remember unpacking it from Netherfield and to be honest, I do not remember seeing it after the Netherfield Ball. You did sleep in your clothes that night and I did not assist you, so I do not know where it was placed. I apologize, sir. I should have been more careful.”
“Truly? We have lost the watch my father gave me when I graduated from Cambridge? It was solid gold!”
“I know, sir.” Martin waited for a moment. “Perhaps the staff at Netherfield has found it when they cleaned the room.”
Mr. Darcy promised to write to Bingley right away in case it had been discovered. He let his valet fasten his cufflinks and brush his coat before dismissing him. “Tell Mrs. Darcy I will be detained a few minutes,” he instructed, before sitting down to pen a quick letter to Bingley.
*****
After they returned, Mr. Darcy walked Elizabeth back to her room. In spite of his best efforts, he had not been able to shake the foul mood that had descended upon him. Elizabeth had been quiet for much of the play, and every time he checked his watch he was reminded that one of his most precious possessions was missing. The watch had been one of the last gifts his father had given him. All night he had tried to pay attention to the stage, but he was too easily distracted. The few precious times Elizabeth did laugh, his eyes betrayed him and went to look at her beauty once again.
He reached for her hand before she could open the door to her bedroom. “Elizabeth, I feel I must apologize for my mood tonight. I got some distressing news prior to departure and it has affected me more than it should. You were everything lovely tonight. I hope you had a pleasant time.”
She was grateful for the opportunity to speak to him in private, “I did, thank you. If I may say, the necklace is exquisite and matched my gown perfectly. Thank you.”
“It was my mother’s but when I saw the fabric you picked I knew it belonged on your neck.” He raised her hand and turned it over and kissed the tender flesh on the inside of her wrist, his lips lingering a moment longer than necessary.
Elizabeth breath caught in her throat. He had bowed over her hand and kissed it many times, but not like that! She watched as he turned and walked to his own door. His hand reached for the handle but paused. He then looked back at Elizabeth and smiled. She gave him her best smile in return. She watched him as he entered his room and closed the door. Her heart was still pounding and she flushed pink once again as she felt the kiss still lingering on her wrist. She entered her room and rang for Serafina.
Serafina made quick work of removing the gown and undoing the masterpiece on top of her head. Elizabeth sat docile as she did so, silent pondering all that had occurred tonight.
“You have never looked so tempting before and that is what I must endure tonight.”
And yet after that, he had seemed distant and quiet during the play. She hadn’t even had the chance to tell him how nice he had looked in return. The news he received must have been difficult indeed.
“Serafina?
Mr. Darcy received some troubling news prior to leaving for the theatre but he did not mention the details as we were so preoccupied. Do you know what it was?”
“Yes, madam, his valet could not find his gold
pocketwatch. It upset the master because his father had given it to him.” Serafina began unlacing her corset.
“Has it been stolen?”
“I cannot imagine it has been, madam, just misplaced. Martin takes very good care of the master’s things.”
She let Serafina finish her work in silence. Her mind went again to Mr. Darcy’s words when he gave her the necklace. Her hand absently went to her neck but Serafina had already removed the necklace and it lay gleaming in its box on her vanity table.
I was tempting
?
The thought was foreign. Her mind wandered to the many moments in the last week where they interacted. Had it only been a week? Her body felt weary, but she knew that sleep would not come easily tonight.
“Goodnight, madam,” Serafina said, curtsying and interrupting her thoughts.
“Goodnight,” Elizabeth said. She tried to push away the feelings she felt when he kissed her wrist but they would simply resurface unwillingly. No, sleep would not come easily tonight. She reached for her book and tried to read but her heart would start fluttering every time she remembered his hands at her neck and the breath that had sent chills down her spine. Even more disturbing were his kind eyes as he said those words.
She put the book down and walked the room, hoping to tire herself out without avail. Tomorrow was Sunday and they would be in each other’s company more than they had been for the last few days. That morning they had agreed that a week from Monday they would depart for Pemberley. Elizabeth’s gowns would be finished and that would be the end of their social obligations here for now. From what her aunt and Miss Bingley had told her of Pemberley, there would be plenty of places to hide. Aunt Gardiner had grown up not five miles from Pemberley in Lambton and had toured the estate
several times over the years. She talked about the sculpture room, the ballroom, the painted vaulted ceilings . . . but what she had praised most of all was the gardens. Elizabeth couldn’t wait to walk among the many trails and lakes she had heard about. It had been a good week since she had gone out walking, and she felt the lack of fresh air in the confusion of her thoughts. She finally settled down to sleep. Before she closed her eyes, her thoughts veered back to what Mr. Darcy had said.
“You have never looked so tempting before and that is what I must endure tonight.
”
She remembered once reading a book that had reminded her tha
t
“hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible, and achieves the impossible.
”
Well, Mr. Darcy
,
she thought before she closed her eyes once more
.
Dare I hope?
“W
e should get our first glimpse of Pemberley in a few minutes,” Mr. Darcy said.
Elizabeth turned to him. They had sat in silence for much of the journey, and now the window was cracked open, filling the carriage with the sounds of the road and the scent of fresh country air. Something about the place felt oddly familiar, but she couldn’t imagine why. She had never been this far north. They passed by magnificent hills and cliffs, lush with greenery and groves of cedar, sweet chestnut, beech, and sycamore trees. The warm scent of cedar and sage filled the air. Although her gaze was ostensibly fixed on the land outside, she couldn’t stop glancing back at Mr. Darcy every few moments.
She would have thought another week together would have clarified their relationship, but the events of last week had done nothing but confuse her further. She had watched him interact with the servants with nothing but kindness and respect. He had insisted that they invite her Uncle and Aunt Gardiner to dinner, and had been nothing but amiable and considerate in their presence, and had declared that he already considered them family. Her aunt had even commented about how “charming” he was, and had praised his intelligence and warmth. Elizabeth had to admit he wasn’t the prideful and quiet “Master of Pemberley” that she once thought him to be in Hertfordshire. She didn’t know what to make of this change. When had this first begun? She had to credit her shift in thinking to when Georgiana came to Netherfield. His loving embrace and kindness towards her was so endearing! Her coming had seemed to transform Mr. Darcy, and the cold man Elizabeth had met at the Meryton Assembly had become someone who smiled at her often, and was perhaps even a little charming. As she listed all of these changes, her mind seemed to protest, urging her back to her first impressions of her husband. For example, when he asked for her
hand in a private audience, he had been so stiff and cold! She concluded that surely he hadn’t changed too much.
Although he had been distant during that moment, he had still been kind to her. Even in the shock of realizing the marriage must take place, Elizabeth had still been determined to make the best of it. After she had given her assent, she had then paused and asked him to humor a request. She remembered keenly his words.
“Whatever you wish.” Those were not the words, she realized, of a man who thought only of his own pride. And when she then asked that he openly support Bingley’s preference for Jane, or at least not hinder his advances in any way, he had immediately agreed. It was the only positive result of such a forced marriage that she could think of at the time.
She had once promised herself that if there was anything she could do to ensure Jane’s happiness, she would do it. If marrying Mr. Darcy had any benefit, his blessing on Bingley and Jane’s marriage would be enough. She had not thought much of his agreement at the time; after all, how could he oppose such a connection if he himself was marrying into what she knew he felt was a wretched family. And now Jane and Bingley were engaged. Yes, she knew why she “agreed” to marry him, or at least accepted the inevitable. It was for Jane’s sake, and she hoped her sister’s marriage would bring her nothing but happiness.
The question that kept eating at her, though, was why did
he
agree to marry
her
? A man of his wealth and status could have simply said no without much consequence to his reputation. She had been sure he would have told her father about what really happened, and therefore absolved Darcy of any responsibility. Still, he had offered his hand without hesitation! She would find an opportunity to ask him outright, regardless of propriety.
Elizabeth studied him, watching him look out the window of the carriage. So far he had been the perfect gentleman, and quite trustworthy in keeping his promise. He hadn’t made any advances towards her or invaded her privacy. The long trip to Pemberley from London required an overnight stay at an inn and he had procured two rooms. What did the servants think about it?
Surely Serafina has noticed that I wake up in my own bed every morning and his valet, Martin, I am sure, suspects something. They have to! How could they not?
After their day of shopping, Serafina had unpacked her purchases. Although she admired all of them, it was the silk nightdress that earned the most praise. Serafina had suggested wearing it that night but Elizabeth refused, saying “perhaps another night.” Twice she had set it out for her, and twice Elizabeth picked either her old nightgown or the more modest batiste gown. Serafina had seemed to take the hint and had stopped laying it out.
“Elizabeth, look, there it is!” Darcy’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up in surprise as he tapped the carriage roof and they drew to a stop. “It is tradition to stop here and look at my home,” he explained, and then felt brave enough to continue. “And now it is our home!” He stepped out of the carriage and handed her out, but did not release her hand afterwards. He tucked it into his arm and held it close.
The now-familiar tingling sensation caused by the touch of his arm began, and Elizabeth felt her heart beat faster.
Why does he affect me so? Will this ever get any easier?
She gazed out in the direction he indicated, delighting in the sight of a large, tranquil lake. A forest sat to its left, but what drew her attention was the grandest house she had ever seen, sitting just beyond the water. The stone building was at least four stories high and one, two . . . she stopped to count, fifteen windows wide! Decorative stone pillars framed the main door and then extended all the way to the roof. She took in the hills and boulders that surrounded the lake, amazed by the naturalness and taste of the landscape. How badly she wanted to explore all of it!
It is so large,
she thought
, I might not ever find the same path twice to explore!
Her “walking legs” itched to seek out all that Pemberley’s grounds held for her.
“Welcome home, Elizabeth.” He turned to look at her face.
She looked up at him, his face closer that it had ever been, seeing his dark, brooding eyes fixed on her. She had a fleeting thought that for a moment he was going to kiss her. She drew back a little. As much as she might have wanted Darcy’s love, the idea of being kissed by someone who didn’t love her remained painful. She drew in a deep breath to steady herself, and then was struck by a realization.
Cedar! That is what he smells of, cedar and sage
!
She smiled widely at her new realization.
Darcy took both her hands and held them to his chest. “You are smiling,” he said, feeling a sense of wonderment. It was more a statement than a question, but she nodded at him. He felt encouraged enough to continue. “You must tell me what you are thinking.”
She let out a giggle and pulled her hand away to cover her mouth, as if astonished by the sound. “You sir, do not want to know what I was thinking!”
His eyes brightened
.
That is the first laugh I have heard since the Netherfield Ball!
“You are mistaken; there is nothing I want more than to know what has made you laugh. I always want to know what you are thinking.” He looked more intensely at her, but then smiled broadly as well.
She laughed softly for another moment before she shook her head. “No sir,
I promise, you do not!” He took her hands again, kissing each one before he held them again to his chest. Her face flushed a bright pink.
He couldn’t resist; he reached up and brushed her rosy cheek with the back of his fingers. “You are blushing . . .”
How could she tell him such thoughts? As she looked as his smiling eyes that she adored, she grinned and said, “If you insist . . . but I will not explain myself!” She let out an uninhibited laugh once again and said, “You smell like Pemberley!”
*****
“Welcome home, sir. I hope your journey was most pleasant.” Mr. Reynolds walked with him down the hall. “There are two letters from Georgiana in your study. One was sent by way of express two days ago, but you were on the road and we could not forward them.”
“An express?
From Georgiana? Thank you, Mr. Reynolds.” Darcy picked up both the letters with concern. He had left Georgiana at Netherfield with her companion and the Bingleys. Late at night, he had conveyed the whole story of Ramsgate and Wickham’s doings at the ball to Mr. Bingley. It was prudent, Darcy had decided, that Bingley know what had truly happened in order to protect Georgiana. He would have taken Georgiana with him but she had insisted that he take his honeymoon alone. During the two weeks of his engagement he had found out that Wickham had asked for leave and no one would admit to knowing where he went. Colonel Forster had said he asked for five weeks. He counted it out in his head. Between the two weeks of their engagement, and the fifteen days since their marriage, Wickham should still be gone. It still worried him as he opened up her letters.
He read
over the letters quickly, but the gist of it was she wanted to return to Pemberley immediately. He reread it, this time more slowly, wondering if there was something he was missing. The only thing that could account for his uneasiness was that her tone was all too familiar, she was self-conscious and anxious all over again. Just like after Ramsgate. He immediately sat down to instruct her to come home. He was a newlywed, but not in any real sense of the word. If it was up to him he would spend every waking hour with Elizabeth, and with a sigh, thought,
and every sleeping hour as well.
But he knew Elizabeth didn’t feel for him as he did for her. Not yet. Two weeks was a very short time to change someone’s opinion as decided upon as Elizabeth’s was of him. She hadn’t been herself since his proposal and rarely teased him or challenged him anymore. But Pemberley would change that. It was a wonderful place that offered everything he knew Elizabeth loved: a wealth of nature, an extensive library, elegance and warmth. Yes, she would fall in love with Pemberley soon enough. He had already seen its healing powers bring the first sign of laughter from her. He smiled to himself, recalling her lighthearted banter and her laughter as she told him he smelled like Pemberley. Although she had said she wouldn’t explain herself, he had insisted he tell her what Pemberley, and himself smelled like. Cedar and sage? His clothes were hung in cedar closets but the sage? He had never considered before what his person would smell like. He made a note to ask Martin what his shaving soap was made from. His thoughts drifted once again to her bright pink cheeks. He had very nearly taken her in his arms and kissed her right there! He had many moments where impulses to do so were strong, but he refused to let them become overpowering. It took the sound of her laughter to turn his thoughts towards a safer, less impulsive end. And, he reminded himself, she never did say whether or not she liked “Pemberley’s” smell. But upon remembering the depth of the blush, he could hope that she did.
*****
Elizabeth’s welcome at Pemberley had been everything and more than the warm greeting she had received in London. The servants were introduced just as before, and she couldn’t help but be in awe at how kind and endearing Mr. Darcy was with them. There were so many new faces, though, that she was grateful that she agreed to bring Serafina to Pemberley. It was surprisingly pleasant, she had to admit, to have her own personal maid. Serafina was so talented in managing her unruly curls, even on the most humid of days when Elizabeth would have given up in despair. Serafina seemed to have the gift of fading away when Elizabeth needed privacy, but was there the moment her opinions were needed. One night, as Serafina took her hair down, Elizabeth had found that Serafina grew up at Pemberley, and was in fact the daughter of the late Mrs. Darcy’s maid. From a young age, she had been taught how to care for a mistress of such an estate, and it only seemed natural that she would assume this position. And yet there was a natural liveliness and humor about her that Elizabeth appreciated. She did not want a maid who never spoke but to mark the bounds of propriety.
There were a number of things she needed to do as Pemberley’s new mistress, the first of which was a meeting with the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, but upon waking up, Elizabeth stood and walked to the window. A walk was nothing short of necessary. How could she not explore the riches before her at the first possible moment? She rang for Serafina and asked to be readied for a walk. She waited impatiently as Serafina carried in her new pelisse,
a fine forest-green wool that seemed to be made for walking in Pemberley’s woods, and fastened her bonnet over her hair. She found her way to the front door easily enough and found the butler, Mr. Reynolds, busy at his work in the entryway.
“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy,” he said with a bow. It was a surprise to her that the name no longer sounded quite so strange. She remembered that he was the husband of the housekeeper, and nodded to him before he opened the door. Soon enough she found herself faced with the beautiful grounds of Pemberley.
She at first thought she would stay close to the building but a certain picturesque cliff to the north begged her to come hence. Once she reached the top, she knew she would have a very good view of the entire estate. As she walked she came across a faint trail that seemed to lead her in the right direction. It wound around trees and led her to a shallow trickling stream. Laughing, she picked up her skirts and jumped. She felt more carefree than she had in a very long time.
The weather was quite warm for autumn, and she assumed warmer than usual for Pemberley as many trees were already turning crimson and orange in a riot of color. She scrambled over several boulders, but finally made her way to the cliff. A spot on the ground was worn with hoof prints etched deep in the dirt. Someone else seemed to like this view as well. She surrendered to the temptation to sit in a grassy area in the sun. Beneath her she could see the top of the house, the garden maze, and delighted in imagining making her way through its secret passageways. She shed her bonnet to feel the warmth of the sun on her hair.