Welcome to Monday, dear friends, and another chapter! Thank yous go out to the lovely people who liked, followed and/or commented!
In this chapter, Darcy and Elizabeth learn a few more things about what each has been through in the last four years, and about each other... ~ CC
On reaching the stable, Darcy led them to the stall where Bingley's hunting dogs were kept. After asking the boy if he would mind being picked up, he reached for him and settled his son on his hip to look over the top of the stall door. Some of the small pack of hounds were still young yet, and very playful; Ned giggled delightedly at their antics as they rolled and wrestled in the hay. The horses soon drew his attention and Darcy held onto him as he took him around to meet them all, and one of the stable hands produced a few cubes of sugar for Ned to feed the last couple they came to. The beautiful, musical sound of his child's laughter rang again when the horses' lips nibbled his little palm in taking the cubes.
Setting Ned down again as they made to depart the building, Darcy was further delighted when the little boy took not only his mother's hand, but also one of his, walking between them as they headed toward the house.
"Bingley's cook ought to be serving breakfast about now, should you care to join us," Darcy said to Elizabeth.
She had been quiet and observant through their visit to the stable, but now her countenance showed a degree of alarm. "Mr. Darcy, I do not know—we have not discussed what to say or when—"
He held up his other hand. "Please, do not make yourself uneasy. I am sure Bingley will not mind our taking a couple of trays in the library—we need not eat with the others in the breakfast room."
This suggestion seemed to relax her; Elizabeth nodded and looked down to their son. "Are you feeling hungry?"
Ned's head bobbed rapidly. "I very hungry, Mamma," he said.
Darcy led them into the house through the garden entrance, which was conveniently located nearer to the library than the breakfast room. They encountered Mrs. Hubbard, Bingley's housekeeper, in the hall—she seemed surprised by the presence of a child, but cheerfully agreed to see to it that a couple of trays were delivered to them.
Ned marveled at the number of books on the shelves when they entered the library itself. "Unca Bennet don't has this many books!"
Elizabeth grinned at that, saying, "That is because Uncle Bennet's library is much smaller than this room."
"Just wait until you see the library at Pemberley, my son," said Darcy. "It is so large that it takes up nearly a whole wing of the house. Do you remember the library, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth colored and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, but nodded. Darcy swallowed heavily; watching her perform that nervous habit brought back more memories of their too-short love affair. He'd thought it oddly endearing in those days, whenever she displayed her nervousness by biting her lip, and it seemed the action had not lost its effect on him. It was still absolutely adorable to see her get nervous, which she had rarely done when he first knew her.
"Mamma, you been to Pem-ber-ley?" Ned asked.
"It… It was a long time ago, Neddy. Before you were born," she replied.
"Your mamma and I met at Pemberley, Ned," Darcy told him.
At that moment there came a knock at the door, and then it was opened by Mrs. Hubbard. She stood aside as two maids carried in trays laden with plates, silverware, cups, and what appeared to be generous portions of everything being served in the breakfast room. Darcy directed them to set the trays on the table that was set below the large windows. When they had done, the three servants departed in silence.
Elizabeth busied herself with pouring juice for Ned, then fixing him a plate. Seeing that he could not reach the table properly from his seat, Darcy went to the nearest bookshelves and pulled several of the thickest volumes; he piled them neatly in the boy's chair and sat him on top, softly admonishing him not to fidget too much, lest the books be damaged.
He and Elizabeth then tended to their own plates, sitting with their son between them. For a time there was nothing but concentration on the meal, then Darcy found himself wondering aloud,
"Does Ned have a nursemaid?"
Elizabeth looked at him over the rim of her cup of chocolate. "No. My uncle could not spare the funds to hire a nurse, nor is what aid my father sends to me from Town enough to pay the cost."
"So you've had no help with him at all?" Darcy asked.
"On the contrary," she countered. "My cousins Jane and Mary have been extraordinarily generous with their time, and our housekeeper adores him. Whenever I am busy with my work, or have to leave the house for any reason, I can count on any one of them to look after him. Occasionally it is my aunt or uncle, and in some rare instances one of the maids has taken charge of him."
"I am glad to hear it," said Darcy, "though I can assure you that a reliable nursemaid will be employed to assist you at Pemberley."
"That is…that is very generous of you."
"It is not generosity to do what I'd have always done," he told her.
Elizabeth only nodded and sipped her chocolate. After another minute's passing, she said, "Speaking of Pemberley, Mr. Darcy—"
"Fitzwilliam."
She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
Darcy drew a breath. "You used to call me Fitzwilliam when we were alone. You even said it once yesterday—will you not use my Christian name as I do yours?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Sir, I have not seen you in four years. We are neither of us the same person we were then, and must become reacquainted with one another before reaching the level of comfort which precipitates such intimacy."
Darcy conceded the point with a nod. "Very well. Do you wish me to be formal until then, and address you as Mrs. Darcy?"
She looked startled at that suggestion. "Forgive me, but I should prefer to be addressed as Mrs. Woods until such time as we have agreed on when and how to reveal the truth to my neighbors."
He suppressed the urge to growl. "I will not speak the name of a man who did not exist—at least, I presume he is a work of fiction?"
Elizabeth glanced at Ned; thankfully, the boy was too preoccupied with his food to pay them any attention. "It was a necessary fiction," she said at last. "Obviously, in light of our broken elopement, my parents felt it wise to remove from our home in a village so close to Pemberley. We came into Hertfordshire to stay a while with my aunt and uncle, and when it became clear that the one and only time I'd lain with a man had resulted in a child, an explanation as to my lack of a husband was needed in order to preserve my reputation. It was convenient, at the time, for England to be at war, for there were too many in such a situation as I had allegedly found myself."
"I suppose that is what made the deception all the more believable," Darcy observed.
"Indeed," she replied.
Taking a drink from his coffee in order to gather his thoughts, Darcy then said, "I hope you will forgive me, madam, but I find the utterance of that address to be impossible."
"What would you prefer, then?"
Darcy held her gaze as he said, "I should prefer to call you Elizabeth when we're alone or with family, and Mrs. Darcy in public."
She turned her gaze from his and looked out of the window. "Strangely enough, I do not mind it when you say my Christian name," she said softly, her words giving rise to the sudden hope of their marriage being more than just words declared in a blacksmith's shop. Darcy had been hard-pressed to stifle his feelings on the matter, but his dreams of the night before and Fitzwilliam's inappropriate remark of earlier—combined with the recognition of her beauty, which had only grown in the last four years—had stirred within him the idea of not only repairing their friendship, but perhaps also regaining the love that had been lost.
He wanted more than a marriage in name only. He wanted a wife who would be a true partner in his life, a sister to Georgiana and a second daughter for Lady Anne. He wanted a wife who would willingly share his bed and be only too happy to bear him children.
He wanted Elizabeth just as much now as he had wanted her then, and it pained him to realize that the damage wrought by her parents' lies, his uncle's lies, meant that he would have to work twice as hard to win her heart a second time.
Well, he thought with an internal smile. Challenge accepted.
"As to being called Mrs. Darcy," Elizabeth was saying, "I recognize that is my true name, as our marriage is still valid, but I have told a different story to my neighbors for four years. I… I am nervous about what damage may be done in revealing the truth."
"I understand your reluctance, Elizabeth," Darcy said.
He noticed then that she'd begun to tremble; her countenance remained turned away from Ned, and it occurred to Darcy she was endeavoring not to display her sudden anger before their son.
"Damn them all," she uttered softly. "Damn them for forcing me to tell a lie in the first place. Damn them for shattering my confidence in myself and my ability to trust anyone anymore. Do you remember I used to not be so easily intimidated?"
"I remember," Darcy replied with a nod. "You once told me that your courage would always rise at every attempt to intimidate you."
"I almost wish I had never learned the truth," Elizabeth said then, at last turning her gaze back to his. "Had Colonel Fitzwilliam never come to Hertfordshire, I could have continued to live my life as Mrs. Woods in blissful ignorance, believing my parents to love me beyond all reason, and would never have devolved into the anxious creature you see before you, one who is now so utterly terrified of what is to come."
It hurt him to see her like this, so much that Darcy held out one of his hands across the table, keeping it there until at last she timidly placed her own in it.
"I beg you would not be frightened, Elizabeth," he said as he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Come what may we will face it together, I promise you."
"Would you think me very much a coward if I said I'd rather leave Meryton before the truth is told?" she asked.
Darcy smiled. "Not in the least. If it is your wish to depart and leave the revelation to your uncle, I shall not say nay to that plan."
A half smile quirked up one corner of her mouth. "So long as I go willingly with you to Pemberley?"
"I do want you to go willingly, yes," he replied, and tried not to show his disappointment when she withdrew her hand from his. "It should have been your home these four years, Elizabeth. The circumstances of your return to it may not be ideal, but I hope you will contemplate doing so with some measure of happiness. Your life there will be nothing like it is here."
"What of your mother and sister?" Elizabeth asked.
Darcy sighed. "Admittedly, I have told them nothing as yet. When I first talked with Fitzwilliam on my arrival yesterday, he asked me if I thought Mamma complicit in the scheme to separate us."
"Oh no," she interrupted. "No, I cannot believe such a thing of your sweet mother. Of course, I never believed my own capable of such deception, either, but Lady Anne is entirely a different creature. She would have been greatly disappointed in us, to be sure, but I do not believe she would willingly take part in so far-reaching a lie as her brother and my parents told."
A smile graced his lips at her surety of his mother's innocence. "I feel the same as you on that score," he said. "Though since the accident which took my father from us, she has been different from the kind, gentle woman you may remember."
Elizabeth frowned. "Different in what way?"
Darcy drew a breath. "Well, for starters she cannot walk, so requires the attendance of a nurse for the everyday little tasks a lady would normally take care of on her own. Also, nearly drowning has had an adverse affect on her mind—my mother is now very easily frightened by such things as loud noises, and is as terrified of being left alone as she is of being in a room with more than four or five people."
Elizabeth gasped softly and drew a hand to her lips. "Oh, the poor soul," she said.
"Mamma, I finished!" Ned declared loudly, causing his mother to flinch.
"Ned, please remember what Mamma has told you about shouting indoors," she said to him.
"Is impolite to yell indoors," the boy said.
Elizabeth nodded. "That is correct. Now, I am very pleased to see you've eaten so much—very well done, dearest!"
"Well done indeed, my boy," echoed Darcy. "It pleases me to see you've a hearty appetite."
Ned grinned. "Mamma says I a growing boy," he said proudly.
"And growing boys must eat very well," added Elizabeth with a grin. "Let us find you a book to look at for a little while, shall we? Your papa and I have more things to talk about before you and I go home."
"Can he read already?" Darcy asked as she lifted him down from his chair and took up the first book in the pile on which he'd been sitting.
"Not really, but he is learning his letters and numbers," Elizabeth replied as she discarded the first book and picked up the second. "Ned likes to look at books with pictures of animals in them. Many he will recognize from those he has seen about the farm at Longbourn."
"You said he was a smart boy," Darcy recalled. "Perhaps a governess instead of a nursemaid—or both?"
Elizabeth looked up, her expression one of mild surprise. "You would do that for him?"
"Of course I would. He's the son of a gentleman, so should have a gentleman's education," he replied. "I believe my father hired my first tutor when I was little older than Ned."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth with a smile. "Our lives at Longbourn have been quite comfortable, I assure you, but not having enough to pay the salary of a nursemaid or governess has weighed on my mind. I so want a good education for my son."
"He will have one, of that you can be certain," Darcy assured her.
The pile in Ned's chair proved to be educational tomes, so both of his parents stood to go in search of a book with pictures. Elizabeth located one after some minutes' passage and sat him on the sofa with it in his lap before returning to the table.
"What else shall we discuss?" Darcy asked as she poured herself another cup of chocolate.
Elizabeth finished her task and picked up the steaming cup before she replied, "I wrote a letter to my parents last night."
Darcy's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Have you posted it?"
She nodded, then took a sip of her beverage. "I admit that I debated burning the letter once I'd written it, that I should instead confront them in person, but could not bear the possibility of their denying the truth."
"I should not be pleased that you believe me, but I am," said Darcy. "I am only sorry that we have both of us been forced to endure four years of pain and anger before coming to the truth."
"I didn't want to believe you—still don't, to be perfectly candid—but not even I can deny that there are more reasons to believe you than not," Elizabeth said. "I found myself reflecting on my father's behavior over the first year after we'd left Derbyshire, and recalled more than one instance in which his conduct was questionable. When I spoke to my Uncle Bennet and his elder daughters last night, he admitted to wondering how my father had managed to purchase his house and his first boat."
"You said yesterday that he has an import business?"
She nodded. "It is called Gardiner Imports. When he went to London shortly after Ned's birth to seek his fortune, as he put it, Papa made several contacts there that helped him to start his business. Actually, I think he worked for someone else doing the same briefly—commanding a boat that picks up shipments in foreign ports containing spices and cloth and the like—before he decided to go it on his own."
Darcy picked up his coffee and took a drink. "You said the business does well?"
Elizabeth nodded again. "Well enough in the last two years that he now has his own warehouse and a second ship at his command."
"Impressive," Darcy mused. "It is a wonder that he cannot do more for you and Ned if his profits are such that he can afford the cost of maintenance for two ships and the salaries of the men in his employ."
"My father's focus has been on establishing the respectability and reputation of his business, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied. "Whatever else he has done, I know he has worked hard to get to where he is now, and I do not begrudge him his success. He helps me where he can—every time my mother has come to visit, which is three or four times a year, she always brings us money as well as presents."
He would not argue with her pride in her father's success, though his efforts were no doubt begun with bribe money and thus hardly deserving of her praise.
"I imagine you'll not want to tarry long before returning to Derbyshire," Elizabeth said then.
Darcy shook his head. "No more than a fortnight," he confessed. "By no measure do I wish you to feel alarmed or rushed, Elizabeth, but my mother's mental state truly is very fragile. It was not without difficulty that I was able to leave her after receiving Theo's letter."
"Of course you want to get back to her as soon as possible, I understand," she agreed. "I am certain I can settle what accounts I have in Meryton by then, though Mrs. Harper will be none too pleased to lose me."
"Who is Mrs. Harper?"
"My employer. I am a dressmaker by trade, Mr. Darcy."
He scoffed lightly. "Well, there will be no more of that when you are at Pemberley. Design and put together your own wardrobe if you like, and make anything for my mother and sister if they ask and it suits you to oblige, but you'll not be taking paid commissions from anyone."
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you really think you can forbid me from earning my own money?"
"I like to believe I won't have to," Darcy replied.
"Need I remind you, Mr. Darcy, that I was working as a companion for your sister when we first met?" she rejoined. "I've worked a needle and thread from the first moment I could handle them, and I have survived quite well on my own without you these four years, supporting myself and my son with those paid commissions you so disparage. I don't think you have the right to dictate whether I can or cannot accept due compensation should I make a garment for someone."
Darcy stifled a groan of frustration. "Elizabeth, please. We've been getting on so well, let's not argue over this. You are the wife of an extremely wealthy gentleman, you have no need to work now we're reunited. I should think you'd be glad to be able to give it up."
"Just because I can doesn't necessarily mean I want to," Elizabeth replied. "Have you never made anything with your own two hands, never felt some pride in the accomplishment of your labors?"
A sigh escaped him. "You have made your point. I am by no means a working man, but I have since my father's death had the management of all our properties. You might call it more a labor of the mind, having to keep so much in order, but I am not afraid to admit that I do take pride in what I have achieved. All Darcy lands remain free of debt, my servants are well paid, my tenants prosperous—I do not believe there is one of them would give me a bad name."
"You must be a very generous master and landlord for not one person to be inclined to speak ill of you," Elizabeth observed.
Darcy smiled. "I like to think so," he said. "And I'll be a very generous husband if my wife should agree not to open a shop for her wares."
It was clear that Elizabeth struggled not to laugh; her lips were pursed and her eyes sparkled with restrained amusement. It pleased him very much that he could still make her laugh.
"I do not think you've anything to worry about, Mr. Darcy," she said at last. "I have a lot to learn if I am to be Mistress of Pemberley—no doubt so much that I shan't have time to make gowns for every woman in the village. I may not even have the time to make them for myself, at least not very often."
"Indeed, madam—there is a staff of more than thirty at Pemberley, near half of which are female and will be under your direct management," said Darcy. "One of those will be a lady's maid to tend you, should you desire one."
Elizabeth grinned. "My, you are determined I shall not have to do any of my own sewing, aren't you?"
Darcy answered with a light chuckle. "As I said before, Elizabeth, your life at Pemberley will be very different than your life here. I want you to be happy there, not miserable."
"Just happy at Pemberley?" she queried. "Or happy with you?"
He looked at her then with what he knew was a hopeful expression. "Why not both?"