Chapter Nine
Monday, May 18th.
Diamond Springs.
When Elizabeth's carriage came to a halt at the front doors, she nearly dropped the Lizzy pot she held in her lap.
"Do take care, Norman!" She exclaimed after she was escorted out. She held the pot in one hand, while the other was in the palm of the butler's. She eyed him harshly as she added.
"Name one thing I most enjoy is watching some break a vase."
"My apologies, Miss Beauty." Norman responded before he turned and pulling himself up, he returned to his seat a top the carriage. Then he bid her farewell before he slapped the reins and drove off. Shaking her head, Elizabeth thought.
"As I wonder how in the world he manages to drive the carriage…"
Then a voice stirred her.
"Miss Bennet?"
Spinning around, Elizabeth let out a cry when Fitzwilliam Darcy stood to the side of the manor. He was wearing something different from when she'd seen him last: gardening clothes but he also supported himself with a cane. The handsome features of his face glowed in the afternoon light as he hobbled over to her. She disliked seeing this and what unnerved her more was when she'd listened to 'her social friends' talking about him in such "unpleasant manners." That was on Saturday but Elizabeth didn't mention this to Fitzwilliam as she smiled at him.
"Mr. Darcy? As you can see: I came with my pot."
"I can see that." He answered.
By this point, he was beside her and with that cane, Elizabeth waited to hear what he had to say next. Instead, Mr. Darcy, with that handsome face of his, leaned forward as he narrowed his eyes on her bush. She didn't want to inform him what she'd done earlier but she kept silent as she watched him inspect "the plant."
"Seems to me that he's been out for some time," Mr. Darcy finally said.
Elizabeth wondered if this was the best time to tell what she'd done. But Fitzwilliam shooed it away when he gestured for her to follow him as he added.
"Follow me, Miss Bennet. The garden is fine and the birds are in the air! Good thing we chose this particular morning for planting! The early bird gets the worm."
"As I know," Elizabeth answered as she followed behind Fitzwilliam.
He used the cane to steady himself and here, Elizabeth got a clear view of his back. The hunch to it seemed more the story of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Elizabeth recalled how the male lead was in love or fell in love with the gypsy woman, Esmeralda. But she didn't wish to dwell on how his story ended as she walked behind Mr. Darcy. He was silent as the two walked around the building but Elizabeth liked watching how Fitzwilliam did this. From the time she first met him at the ball to where she was now – how her friends' would have laughed at her for secretly meeting with 'the Beast' of Diamond Springs!
"I would surely lose my reputation if I was seen with him!" Elizabeth thought as the two entered the back yard of the Darcy property. When Elizabeth felt a brush of fresh air touch her, she gasped when she exclaimed.
"Mr. Darcy! The gardens!"
"Yes, Miss Bennet," he answered as he too paused in his walk.
"I thought you would best enjoy planting on this fine morning! Listen," he gestured towards one of the trees and when Elizabeth glanced up, there was the same Yellow Breasted Chat she'd seen earlier the previous week! Staring at him, she took a step forward as she whispered.
"Do you have a mate up there?"
"You know him?" Fitzwilliam asked and when Elizabeth looked at him, his expression was one of surprise when she answered.
"Yes. He looks like the male bird who likes to tap at my window in the morning."
"Hmm."
"Is that wrong of me to presume that he likes to take flight to and from our homes?" Elizabeth asked and she moved the Lizzy pot to a better position. Fitzwilliam, who stood in the middle of the large garden, held on to his cane and turned over to the bird. He was making his cries known and Elizabeth wondered if he a mate or a nest up there. Then Fitzwilliam stirred her from her thoughts.
"He has a mate there, Miss Beauty. But he's never tapped on my window. I wonder if he has another."
Elizabeth watched as Fitzwilliam turned but instead of talking about birds, he gestured over towards one part of the garden as he asked.
"Would you like to start planting? I always like doing this when the sun is out."
Elizabeth felt something different in Fitzwilliam's tone when he asked this. Instead of arguing, she replied.
"Yes."
"This way than," he answered.
He gave her a slight smile as he walked over and following behind him, Elizabeth let "the Beast" lead her over to the part of the garden where several other Lizzy pots stood. She could tell that someone prepared this for Fitzwilliam and as she watched, he used his cane to help himself down on his knees before he knelt, with that back of his, before he turned and gestured for her to bring her plant over.
"Here; let me plant yours first, Miss Bennet," Fitzwilliam began once she was standing beside him. This startled Elizabeth and she quickly shook her head.
"No, Mr. Darcy. I can't let you do that!"
"It is of no concern to you, Miss Bennet. Guests' always go first and since we agreed about planting… I thought it would be best I plant yours first before I do mine. As you can see," he used his head to gesture towards the pots beside him, "I already have these ready for later. Yours will be the honored Lizzy bush to be planted first. Plus also," he turned and Elizabeth thought she detected he turned a shade as he concluded.
"I don't want to spoil your dress again."
Instantly, Elizabeth reached out and surprising herself, placed her hand on his shoulder, as she softly replied.
"Mr. Darcy? Let's not reflect on that. It's passed and we can't allow that to hinder us from enjoying the present moment." Here, she crouched down and feeling she was touching someone who would normally would have objected, Elizabeth added.
"I… wanted to be here with you."
Here he turned and when their eyes met, Elizabeth spotted that familiar glow she'd seen at his brother's ball when he answered.
"Truly, Miss Beauty? Truly?"
"Yes." Elizabeth responded.
She then realized that the Yellow Breasted Chat sang and when the couple looked, the bird puffed his feathers before he started to stroke them and as he did this, both Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam laughed. It was a merriment which started the beginning of the day as the two started planting.
On the second floor…
"Seems as if Master Fitzwilliam has captured the Queen of Beauty." One of the servants whispered.
The two were observing the couple from the second floor and one of the maids, who crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes as she replied.
"And he's in better spirits than he is with Francis. Unlike the other two Darcy Brothers', Master Fitzwilliam isn't like them." She turned and with the duster in hand, raised a brow as she asked.
"Is there reason why he's been kept such a secret, Anne? You seem to know more about 'the Beast' than from what I've observed."
Anne, the head maid of the household, turned and making sure they weren't being observed, answered.
"You need to keep care of what you say, child. Here, Diamond Springs Manor has some passages which the older brothers' use to eavesdrop on guests' conversations. You are indeed blessed to be here due to the banking problems our town has had."
"That I am thankful for!" The lady answered.
She was new to the Darcy household staff but Anne knew she needed to keep her own guard on and warn others not to "speak their feelings" so boldly if others were listening.
"To answer your question, Mr. Darcy suffers from a disease which he's been praying for a cue since he found out about it since boyhood. That's one reason why he's been kept a secret."
"And his older brothers' call him 'the Beast?'"
"Yes."
Then a voice startled the two ladies when Francis barked.
"Are you busying talking or dusting? Master Fitzwilliam doesn't want to have those curtains polish themselves!"
"He was listening," Anne thought as she resumed working. She kept her composure when Francis walked past but she didn't miss the way he raised his brow as he walked by. The sound of his boots on the floor didn't make the circumstance any better.
Newport – Rhode Island.
Seated in the tavern, one of the men placed his hands on the table. As he leaned forward, he whispered.
"Good thing we arranged to meet here before we set sail."
His other companions saw the others behind him and one of them held a knife in his hand. Skilled he was, he smelled of the sea and but the one at the table didn't seem to notice. He was accustomed to this when one of them answered.
"Yes. And we need to keep this as quiet as we possibly can. Otherwise we can't afford to be caught or risk being exposed."
"Yes. He would put a knife to your throat and hang you if you even make one wrong move." The one seated at table answered.
"That's been the case since we agreed with them; remember?" Another of the seated men replied.
He took out a glass of wine and sipped it. The liquid dripped down his throat and to the eyes of the others… looked more like blood rather than wine… but he didn't care. He was enjoying it and he was also preparing himself for the voyage. When he set it down, one of the others asked.
"And what have you done to make sure he doesn't slip?"
"Oh, don't worry…" he answered when he reached into his pocket and took out a letter.
"We have someone keeping a very close eye on him and if he does one wrong move… he'll be taken care of."
"That's what I like to hear." Their mate responded before the door opened and their waiter appeared and he announced.
"They're ready for you to set sail, sir."
The head at the table stood when he answered.
"Excellent. Let's get moving along so we're not late."
