Happy April everyone! I hope your spring is going as well as ours is. Have fun reading!
Chapter Twenty Nine
The first thing Elizabeth noticed about her new home, the Darcy house in London, was the abundance of fresh flowers everywhere. In the front entryway, on the dining room table, in the front window of the house, and even waiting in her new bedroom, there were arrangements of lilies in assorted colors. Elizabeth traced her fingers along the delicate petals as she and Darcy stood together in the parlor. "You gave me lilies for our wedding, the loveliest flowers I ever saw."
"If they pleased you, I am delighted."
"And you also gave me pink lilies when we went to see the play together, the night you first kissed me."
"Lilies remind me of you. They have their own distinct form, different from any other flower, striking and yet unexpectedly strong. They outshine every other flower in a room. That is why I instructed the servants to decorate with them for your arrival at Darcy house. No other flower is as beautiful as the lily."
"How flattering! But you also gave them to my aunt, did you not, after the day of the riot?"
"Lilies were a favorite of mine even before I met you."
"How fortunate that you should have a ready answer, and that I should be ready to accept it! I, too, love lilies. Though placing them in every room in the house is probably not how I would display them."
"You can arrange things however you wish, my dearest. This is your home now, and I want you to be happy here."
"With such a devoted husband, how could I be otherwise?"
Darcy leaned down to kiss her but was stopped by a servant entering the room, who gave his master a handful of letters before retreating again. Darcy glanced through them and gave one to his wife. "If I am not mistaken, that is our first invitation as a married couple."
Elizabeth opened the envelope, which was addressed to Mrs. Darcy, and raised one eyebrow. "Mrs. Simpkins requests the honor of our presence for a ball in a fortnight. I do not even know her!"
"She knew my parents; she must have sent the invitation after she saw the announcement of our marriage in the paper. This is the middle of the season, and we will receive many more of these, too many to be able to accept them all. In fact I dare say you might grow quite tired of dances and assemblies and such."
Elizabeth looked thoughtfully at the invitation in her hand. "How do I decide which events to attend and which to decline? How many do you want to go to? I do not wish to give offense. Shall I accept this invitation, for instance?"
"It might be wise. Mrs. Simpkins tends to entertain on a grand scale, and there are likely to be people there who are familiar with the situation in France. But feel free to decline whatever events you want. Being out every night of the week can be tiresome, and I would like to have some time at home, alone, with my wife!" He gave her a roguish look.
"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours!" This time Elizabeth was the one to initiate the kiss, standing on tiptoe to reach his cheek. She was gratified by the pleased look on Darcy's face when she stepped back.
Now that they were truly starting life as a married couple, the responsibilities of daily life began to pull Elizabeth and Darcy apart. During the first weeks they were in town they took their breakfast together, but after that Darcy disappeared into his study or went to one of the clubs to conduct business. He spent at least some part of every day spent in trying to discover news of the Gardiners.
Elizabeth was busy with her own activities and often did not see Darcy again the rest of the day, but she was so preoccupied that she had little time to feel lonely. The town house that Jane and Bingley shared was nearby, and Elizabeth and Jane could see each other as much as they wanted. They visited each other nearly every day, and in the evenings the two couples frequently came together for dinner.
London was at the height of the social season, and as Darcy had predicted, every day they received invitations to soirees, dances and other gatherings. The city, of course, was far grander than Meryton. Elizabeth could not help remembering with a smile the days when her mother had boasted of dining with four and twenty families. She gave up trying to guess how many families would now be part of her social circle, and she was grateful that she did not have to accept every invitation that came to their door. If they had wanted to, they could have spent every evening of the week at a different event.
Through all of this she and Jane did not forget about their aunt and uncle. They scoured the newspapers for news of France every morning, hoping against hope that in its pages they might discover some clue to the Gardiner's fate. Their ears were tuned for the sound of the post arriving; they jumped every time there was an unexpected knock on the door. But day after day went by, and no word came.
A gradual fear came over Elizabeth, a gnawing suspicion that she would never see her aunt and uncle and Jules again. She dared not speak this fear out loud, but she could see the same shadow of fear growing in Jane's eyes with every dire report that came out of Paris. Darcy, too, was discouraged. He came home time after time and could only answer, in response to Elizabeth's inquiry, "Nothing yet."
Anything, she thought, would be better than this constant feeling of suspense. She would rather have the worst confirmed at once than to go on wondering forever. It was the worst sort of torture.
Late one afternoon she heard the front door open and Darcy's firm footstep in the entryway. She put her sewing aside and went to greet him, as she always did, with an embrace and a kiss. The servants knew to leave the couple alone during this little ritual. She let her head rest against his shoulder as his warmth surrounded her and asked, as was her habit, "Is there any news?"
She thought he held her a little more tightly than usual. "Nothing yet," he answered, his voice muffled against her hair.
Rather than pull away at once she lingered, sensing that he needed reassurance. "It has been so long since we had any word from them. Tomorrow we will have been married for a month!"
The arms around her stiffened. "You know I am doing absolutely everything within my power to recover them safely." There was an edge in his voice.
"I have no doubt; I am not criticizing your efforts." Seeking to lighten the mood she added, half playfully, "But I do wish that we had some way to contact the Fleur de Lys. Perhaps he would be able to find them!"
Darcy did not appreciate her attempt at humor. "The Fleur is a myth, Elizabeth, hardly deserving of such admiration."
"But if he were real . . . " Elizabeth began.
"If he were half as capable as the stories make him out to be he would have found your aunt and uncle by now." Darcy dropped his arms and stepped away from her. "He has done nothing to deserve the praises he has been given. I will thank you not to mention his name to me any more." He stepped past her to go up to his room to change for dinner, leaving Elizabeth behind.
Elizabeth stood staring after her husband's retreating back, puzzled and a little hurt. How had such a lighthearted comment elicited such a response? Perhaps she should have been more cautious in her praise for a man other than her husband, but surely Darcy could not be jealous of someone she had never even met! His anger seemed out of proportion for the circumstances. She could not understand it.
There might be a simple explanation for his strange reaction. Darcy had promised to find her aunt and uncle and had yet to do so. No doubt he felt frustration at his lack of progress. Perhaps he was ashamed, afraid to admit that he might not succeed and that her uncle and his family might never make it back to England. Maybe he even blamed himself for leaving them behind. She should go to him now and tell him that he was not responsible for anything that had happened.
Before Elizabeth could act on her plan the housekeeper approached her with a question about the menu, and then several other small matters that could not be put off also raised their head. By the time they were resolved Jane and Bingley had arrived, and there was no opportunity for a private word with her husband. But when he entered the dining room she was relieved to see that his mood had changed. He gave her an apologetic smile, and when he caught her hand under the table and squeezed it, in a way that the others could not see, her resentment faded away. By the end of the evening she had nearly forgotten his earlier mood.
On the night of Mrs. Simpkins' ball the Darcys and Bingleys arrived at the event together and stood together while they were announced, taking in the pleasing sight of the brightly lit room and the score or so of couples already present. The room was filled with light, music, and conversation. After greeting their hostess they ventured into the room, but Darcy and Elizabeth were immediately approached by a finely dressed gentleman around Darcy's age. The gentleman was not particularly handsome but he was tall, almost as tall as Darcy, and he carried himself with a striking bearing. He and Darcy greeted each other warmly and Darcy introduced him as his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Elizabeth, you may remember that I mentioned his name to you once or twice before, while we were still in Paris." They bowed and curtsied.
"I trust you told her only the flattering parts! I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Darcy."
"If I only repeated the flattering parts," Darcy commented dryly, "there would scarcely be anything to say about you, cousin."
"I could say the same of you." The colonel returned Darcy's barbed insult with an amused smile; it was clear that he and Darcy had a friendly relationship. "But speaking of flattery, you must tell me how you won the hand of this exquisite creature! I shall steal her away from you if you do not take care!" He gave Elizabeth a look of frank admiration as he bowed low over her hand.
Elizabeth decided that she would like the colonel. "You would need my cooperation for such a scheme, and fortunately for my husband, that you shall never have," she answered playfully. "Unless, of course, he does something to make me very cross some day."
The colonel laughed. "I see you will do very well for my cousin. Have you met my other cousin, Georgiana, yet?"
"They will meet after the season, when we go to Pemberley," Darcy told him. "For now it seemed wise to remain in town."
"Ah." Was Elizabeth imagining things, or did her husband and the colonel exchange a significant look? "Mrs. Darcy, may I request the honor of your hand for the first set, if you are not already engaged? That is, if Darcy does not threaten to run me through for the privilege?"
Elizabeth looked to her husband, who gave a slight bow. "I would be honored," Elizabeth answered, her good opinion of the colonel now firmly fixed. If she had met the colonel before meeting Darcy, her heart might have been in some danger. He reminded her somewhat of Wickham, with his natural charm and tendency to flatter, though presumably he did not possess Wickham's deceptive characteristics.
The sudden, unwanted thought of Wickham brought an unexpected chill. Why did thoughts of that man have to intrude now, during such a pleasant evening? He was in France and most likely she would never see him again. She might as well forget she had ever met him. Resolutely she pushed him out of her mind and concentrated, instead, on her present surroundings.
"I understand you still have family in France, Mrs. Darcy," the colonel commented as their dance started.
"My aunt and uncle are still there, along with the child they have taken in," Elizabeth answered. "We have not heard from them since we left Paris."
"It is a difficult situation," the colonel answered, with a more serious look. "You must be greatly concerned for their welfare."
"You have something of a gift for understatement. Their welfare is on my mind constantly." Elizabeth choked down the lump that rose in her throat. "Tell me, colonel, since you must have military connections, what can you tell me of conditions in France? Is there any chance my aunt and uncle can escape the country safely?"
"There is always a chance, Mrs. Darcy. While there is life, there is hope, they say."
"But that is just the point. What if they are not-". Her voice choked again, and this time she could not finish speaking.
The colonel glanced sideways towards Darcy, who stood on the side of the room, watching them silently. "As long as my cousin does not give up hope, I would not either."
Elizabeth took a moment to compose herself before trusting herself to speak again. "I wish there were some way we could help them. I even asked my husband if it were possible to reach out to the Fleur de Lys for assistance!"
"The Fleur de Lys!" the colonel repeated. He gave her a bemused glance. "I imagine my cousin did not favor that suggestion. The Fleur de Lys has not been seen or heard from in weeks. It is my belief that he is no longer active in France."
"Then you believe he exists? My husband is not so sure, but I saw him for myself one time in Paris." She told him about the rescue she had witnessed.
The colonel listened carefully, but at the end of her story he shrugged. "Whoever the man is, or was, makes no difference since he seems to have disappeared."
"But if he is still active," Elizabeth persisted, "and if we could find a way to reach him, surely he could help! Is there truly no way to get a message to him?"
"You give me too much credit, madam. If the Fleur de Lys were that easy to find, you can be sure France's government would have hunted him down by now."
"I suppose that is true, but I cannot help wishing regardless. I shall not give up trying as long as there is any hope at all."
The colonel frowned, then cleared his throat. "Is the rest of your family all in England?" he asked, changing the subject. Elizabeth sensed that the subject of the Fleur de Lys was closed, and she reluctantly followed his lead. For the rest of their dance they spoke only of the weather, the musicians, and some of the other couples in the room. When the set ended the colonel courteously offered to introduce Elizabeth to some of them. Elizabeth laughingly looked towards her husband, half expecting him to object, but he was busy speaking with Bingley and a gentleman she did not recognize. He nodded at her in a distracted manner and turned away, deep in conversation.
This was not what Elizabeth had expected but she was determined not to be put off. No doubt Darcy would claim her hand as soon as he could separate himself from whatever business was being discussed. But Darcy did not do so. He finished his conversation with Bingley and the other gentleman and then remained on the side of the room, looking around disapprovingly. He had several short interactions with the colonel and one or two other men, but that was all. He did not approach his wife.
Elizabeth was puzzled. Gentleman after gentleman asked her to dance and soon her card was almost full. If she had still been single she would have been delighted, for she was fond of dancing and conversation. But this was the first time she and Darcy were appearing in public together and she wanted him by her side. The evening that had started with such promise was not living up to her expectations.
She did not know whether to be relieved or angry when Darcy finally found her and held out his hand in time for the last set of the evening. At least he had finally remembered that he had a wife. But if he was happy to be in her company he was not showing it. Rather his face was serious, almost grim, as he led her to the dance floor. There was no hint of the charming, devoted husband she had come to know so well. They lined up with the other couples, bowed and curtsied, and began their dance. A minute or two went by before Darcy finally spoke.
"Have you enjoyed your evening?" he asked. "How do you find the society in town so far?" There was no warmth in his voice.
"Rather lacking, to be perfectly honest." She kept a smile on her face. "You and I have scarcely seen each other this whole time."
"I saw that you were well looked after. You had no need of my poor company." Darcy's face was uncharacteristically grim.
"My dance card has been full," she acknowledged. "I would still rather have shared more of this evening with you. I suppose I should be grateful that you thought of me at all before the end of the evening!"
The steps of the dance separated them briefly. When they came back together again, Darcy said, "My cousin told me that you were a most charming partner."
Her husband couldn't possibly be jealous of his cousin, could he? But that might explain his behavior this evening. "He was an agreeable companion, but I would have danced with you first, if you had asked me."
His expression did not change. "He also told me about the request you made of him. Is there some reason you still feel compelled to try to contact the Fleur de Lys? Even after our conversation?"
Her husband's peremptory tone irritated her. "I will reach out to anyone and anything who might help find my aunt and uncle!"
"I asked you not to speak of him again!"
"You asked me not to bring his name up to you," she reminded him. "I had no reason to think there was a complete embargo on the subject."
Darcy's face darkened. "Your family's well being is my responsibility," he answered, his words terse. "I will get them safely out of France. You do not know what you are doing, trying to reach out to a stranger you do not even know for assistance in this random way. You may be creating trouble for him."
"I, create trouble for the Fleur de Lys?" she repeated in disbelief. "I do not see how that would be possible. I simply want to pursue all possible avenues to help my family!"
"I must ask you to cease this line of inquiry. Promise me you will not endanger this man, whoever he is, any further by trying to contact him in any way."
"What an astonishing request! As if I held such power!"
"You mistake me. This is not a request. Indeed, as your husband, I must insist."
Elizabeth saw by the look on his face that he was in earnest. "I cannot make a promise that I might be forced to break," she responded, now truly hurt. "And I never thought that you, of all people, would be so high handed with your own wife!"
"I do not wish to quarrel," Darcy answered immediately, in a gentler tone. "I have sworn to bring your family safely to you. Do you not trust me to be a man of my word?"
"The Fleur de Lys is the one person we know for sure has successfully rescued people from France," she answered spiritedly. "I do not see why you will not at least try to find him!"
"I hoped to have more support from you, Elizabeth."
"You have all the support at my command," she answered, "which may not be as much as you want."
Darcy's lips flattened into a straight line again and she knew she had displeased him. They finished the rest of the dance in silence. When the evening ended they made a very cordial adieu to their hostess, but on the short trip back to their home Darcy stared moodily out the carriage window. Elizabeth shivered and wondered what had made the evening go so wrong. The wintry air outside was chilly, but the air inside was even colder.
So, even a happily married couple can fall into disagreements with each other! Do you think they'll kiss and make up or is this strain between them going to get worse? And why haven't the Gardiners made it out of France yet? I'd love to hear what you think! Please leave a comment and let me know. I enjoy hearing from every one of you!
Also, I will be releasing an anthology of short stories sometime soon, just in time for some light summer reading! Follow me on FB or on Twitter ( OwenElaineowen1) to hear more about that. Otherwise, I hope to see all of you back here again in three weeks! -Elaine
