Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy: The Last Man in the World (5 page)

Elizabeth
was out of spirits the evening before her wedding. She did not know which would
be worse, to deprive herself of this last night in the company of her family or
to be forced to listen to their raptures about the morrow's events. Lydia and
Kitty were delighted with their new gowns, and even Jane looked forward to the
general society.

Mr.
Darcy had elected not to join them for supper, preferring instead to remain at
Netherfield with his sister. It was a relief to Elizabeth, who was having
trouble enough maintaining a happy countenance on her last evening with her
family. To her disappointment, her father had retired early to his library,
unwilling to tolerate his wife's endless discourse on the finery that would be
Elizabeth's once she was Mrs. Darcy.

Listening
to her sisters speculate on which officers might attend the wedding, Elizabeth
wondered when she would see her family again. Surely Mr.

Darcy
could not object if she travelled to Longbourn for a brief visit someday. Or
perhaps he would object; she had been afraid to raise the question with him.

"You
must go up to bed, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "You will need your
sleep tomorrow." Elizabeth winced at her mother's coarseness, and made her
escape before it could become any worse.

Jane
followed her up soon after, only to find her sister already in bed in the dark.
She set the taper beside the mirror and began her nightly preparations as
quietly as possible. But a sound, and then another, came from the direction of
the bed.

She
hurried over to sit beside Elizabeth, rubbing her shoulder with her hand.
"Dearest Lizzy, you must not listen to our mother. I am certain tomorrow
night will not be so bad; you will see."

Elizabeth
had spent little thought on the prospect of her wedding night.

It
was just one more unpleasantness to come in a future that held little else.

No
matter how terrible the event might be, it would be nothing to spending her
life with Mr. Darcy. She tried to still her sobs. "It is nothing, Jane. I
am sad over leaving my home, no more. I will miss you so very much." The
thought made her cry again.

Jane
took her hand. "I know, but we will write often, will we not? I am looking
forward to visiting you and seeing the famous Pemberley."

"I
wish it could be so, but I must warn you, I do not believe I will be allowed to
invite any of you to Pemberley." Elizabeth turned a tear-stained face to
Jane. It was better to tell her now than to disappoint her hopes later on, or
worse, make her think Elizabeth did not want her to visit.

"Not
be allowed to! Lizzy, I cannot imagine what you are speaking of."

"Mr.
Darcy does not approve of our family. Th e connection is a degradation to his
pride. I cannot imagine he will welcome any of you to Pemberley."

"How
could he not approve? He loves you. How could he fail to accept your
family?" Jane said soothingly.

"Jane,
I know whereof I speak. He has often told me as much." Elizabeth buried
her face in her pillow.

"I
cannot believe it. You would not have chosen to marry such a man."

"I
had no choice."

"Lizzy,
what do you mean? Do not tell me he ... " Jane paused, hesitating to think
so ill of anyone, least of all her sister's husband-to-be.

"No,
he did not hurt me. He kissed me where others could see. What else could I do
but to agree?"

"Oh,
Lizzy, I am so sorry. But he is a good man, I am certain of it, and I know you
will grow to care for him. It is obvious how much he loves you."

Elizabeth
wiped her eyes, realizing the distress she was causing to her most beloved
sister, who had already paid a high enough price at Mr. Darcy's hand. "No
doubt you are right, Jane. I am sure all will be well."

Chapter 5

Elizabeth
did not look back as the carriage pulled away from Longbourn, though her family
was all outside to see the newlyweds on their way. Her lack of composure was
such she feared she might cry if she did, and she had already disgraced herself
once before the wedding by bursting into tears in her father's arms outside the
church door.

Though
everyone had commented kindly on her bridal nerves and her distress on leaving
her family, Elizabeth did not doubt that Mr. Darcy must have been displeased
when his bride appeared before him at the altar with red-rimmed eyes.

On
the seat across from her Mr. Darcy was watching her keenly. She shivered a
little when she encountered his gaze. He said, "It has been an emotional
day, has it not?"

She
nodded, not trusting her voice. Something in her face must have alerted him,
for he reached out to pull down the shade on the carriage window. Moving
carefully across to her--even the luxurious Darcy carriage could not compensate
for the uneven road--he sat down beside her and put his arm around her.

His
unexpected kindness undermined her determination. Tears began to stream down
her cheeks. With his free hand, he turned her face into his shoulder and held
her while she wept.

When
her sobs finally faded into exhausted despair, he cupped her face with his hand
and dried her eyes tenderly with his handkerchief. "There, my love, it is
not so bad, is it?" He leaned forward to kiss her gently.

He
was being considerate and thoughtful, and the least she could do was to try to
please him. She put her arms around his neck in the way he liked, and let him
kiss her. If she did not look forward to his kisses, at least they no longer
troubled her, and it was comforting to have some human contact, even if it was
with Mr. Darcy. Her husband. She wondered how long it would take her to become
accustomed to that idea.

She
was startled when Darcy's hand moved to cup her breast. No one had ever touched
her there before, and the sensation was disturbing. She forced herself to
imagine she was in London, in the busy sitting room of her uncle's house, while
her aunt read poetry aloud. She could almost feel the heat of the fire burning
on the hearth and hear the children at play. She concentrated on the picture
she had created, and allowed her husband to do as he pleased.

Mr.
Darcy took pains to remain at Elizabeth's disposal on her first full day at
Pemberley. She was quieter than was her wont, and he feared she might be
overwhelmed by her new home. Knowing her fondness for long walks, he showed her
some of his favourite parts of the grounds, but although she admired them, he
still suspected she was out of spirits. So he stayed near her constantly,
holding her hand when he could, and reassuring her of his devotion.

The
following day he had no choice but to spend at least a short while attending to
business matters. He wished there were someone to whom he could entrust
Elizabeth during the time, but she knew no one but him.

Still,
Elizabeth's strength of character had been one of her attractions for him, and
he was certain that even if her sensibilities were still affected, she would be
well enough until he returned. Still, he couched his words with care. "I
am sorry to leave you to your own devices so soon, Elizabeth, but I must meet
with my steward this afternoon to discuss what has happened in my absence. With
luck, it will not take long, and I will be back by your side soon."

"Pray
do not concern yourself on my behalf, sir. I am well able to entertain myself,
and I would not wish to interfere with your business." An afternoon to
herself sounded heavenly to Elizabeth.

"Is
there anything I can arrange for your comfort? There is music for the
piano-forte somewhere, and of course the library is at your complete
disposal."

"Thank
you, but I believe I will use the time to attend to my correspondence. I have
several letters to write."

"To
your family?"

"Yes,
to let them know we are safely arrived. I am sure my mother is anxious to hear
about Pemberley."

He
frowned, but said, "Very well."

"Is
there a problem I should be aware of?" She could not deny he had been
everything that was generous and gracious to her since their arrival, and she
was resolved to do her best to meet his requirements in return.

"Not
at all. It is considerate of you to inform them of our safe arrival, though
afterwards I see no reason to encourage your family to be overly
familiar."

Was
he saying what she thought he was? Did he wish her to have no contact with her
family? With the caution now habitual in her interactions with him, she said,
"Would you prefer, then, in general that I not write to my family?"

"I
would prefer to minimize our connections with them."

He
had never made a secret of his disdain for her family, but she was surprised
even he would go to such an extent. Her anger rose. So he expected her to deny
her family now she was his wife? She bit her tongue on a sharp retort,
remembering Charlotte's words regarding the importance of not provoking her
husband at this early stage, although as she spent time with him, she was
beginning to doubt the possibility he might ever change his ways. Still, it
would not hurt to be agreeable now and to think over her options at a calmer
moment.

"Very
well; I will take that under consideration." She hoped the words would not
choke her.

He
rose and came around the table to kiss her cheek. "Until later,
then."

She
did not know whether she was more shocked or furious, not only at his pride but
at his unquestioning assumption she would agree with him in discarding her
family. She had never argued with him when he disparaged them in the past, but
could he actually believe her to be of the same mind? Did he think her so
shallow that she would be willing to throw away her entire life for the chance
to marry him? It was abominable. No wonder he had not wanted Bingley exposed to
Jane again. If they had wedded, it would be more difficult for Darcy to pretend
his wife's family did not exist.

As
the reality of it became evident, her spirits sank even lower. Now she truly
would be dependent on him for everything.

Even
Elizabeth had to admit Darcy paid her every attention a new bride could wish
for. He lavished her with gifts and walked with her through the park. On fine
days he often took her driving through the hills of Derbyshire. The wild
landscape felt somehow alien to Elizabeth; but, even so, she acknowledged its
beauty. It was preferable to sitting alone, surrounded by the unwanted riches
of Pemberley, thinking of what her life might have been.

He
took her walking along the river at Dove Dale with scenery that could scarcely
be matched. It was impossible not to take pleasure in it, and she said as much.

"If
you enjoy this prospect, I can only assume you have a particular fondness for
boulders." He took her hand in his.

"Fortunately,
you have an abundance of them here in Derbyshire," she said with some of
her old archness.

He
looked pleased, she thought. She should remember to praise the landscape more.
She could not fault him for wanting her to like her new home.

Nor
could she fault him for his behaviour toward her. He made a point of learning
her tastes in books and bringing to her attention volumes in the library that
might be of interest to her. Often he would ask her about them afterwards, much
as her father had, although Darcy had the superior education. She generally
found his points interesting; although she did not always agree with them, she
never said as much.

Once,
when he was expressing a particularly strong opinion of a novel, she said,
"Sir, if I did not know better, I would think you were trying to provoke
me into an argument!"

"Perhaps
I am." He sounded oddly wistful.

Despite
his efforts, conversation between them often languished. Over time she felt his
intent gaze, which once she had thought critical, was turning more to one of
puzzlement, as if he did not know quite what to make
of her. Was he wondering
why he had married her? She suspected he might have regrets, given the
objections to the match he had stated. She hoped he would not turn any
disappointment on her, and she increased her efforts to be a proper wife.

His
nightly visits showed no signs of flagging. She did not precisely dread them,
once she was past her initial embarrassment at the act itself and the ways in
which he touched her. He was invariably kind and gentle, and she was aware she
had much to be thankful for in that regard. She had heard enough stories about
pain and humiliation in the marital bed to appreciate that. But it was
difficult to feel gratitude when he was also the one who had placed her in this
position.

She
grew to almost enjoy the time afterward, when he made no further demands, but
held her in his arms. Her loneliness was such that it was comforting to be
held, even by him, and to feel the warmth of his body against hers; and at
those times she did not mind his kisses and caresses.

They
could be pleasant in a way, especially the touch of his hand as it moved along
her body.

But
that was later, and earlier in the visit, his touch could be troubling.

He
seemed to especially enjoy caressing those sensitive and secret parts of her
which could create warm sensation in her. She fought against the feelings and
schooled herself to lie still. If he knew her body responded to his touch in
such an unladylike manner, it would be that much more proof of the inferiority
and lack of respectability of her family. It was not for the mistress of
Pemberley to find pleasure in the flesh.

He
let her know clearly enough what pleased him. She discovered early on that he
liked her to stroke his back underneath his nightshirt. This was simple enough.
Other parts were more difficult. She felt relief each night when she heard the
change in his breathing that indicated the end was near.