Chapter 4

An hour later, Elizabeth's maid finished braiding her hair as she prepared for bed. She had not seen Darcy since she'd gone up to help put Cassandra to bed, and she assumed he had retired for the night already.

How strange that Georgiana had agreed to be presented at court, even if she had done so reluctantly. Elizabeth wondered if the girl would actually go through with it or if the trip to London might be enough to deter her. Silently, Elizabeth she hoped she would, as the idea of spending a month or two in London was intimidating for many reasons.

First of all, she had no interest in negotiating London society, even as the lofty Mrs. Darcy. Formal dinner parties and balls left a cold knot in her stomach. She couldn't imagine creating warm friendships as she had with her sisters or Charlotte with society women.

What on earth would she even discuss with them?

Carriages? Fashion? Babies? She rolled her eyes.

A quiet knock at the door surprised her and she turned toward it. "Come in," she said, assuming it was her maid again with the final cup of tea she enjoyed while reading in bed.

It was not her maid, but rather her tall husband who stood in the dim light of her doorway still dressed from dinner.

"May I come in?" His voice was low.

"Yes, of course."

Somewhere in her chest, her heart did a strange flip.

"Forgive me for interrupting you…" his eyes passed over her as he stepped in.

"You're not interrupting," she said, cheerfully. Even to her ears, she sounded silly, like a schoolgirl. Her face reddened. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice.

But he was looking at her peculiarly. Perhaps he hadn't seen her hair pulled back in a tight plait. She hadn't thought anyone else would be seeing her tonight.

"What? Is something amiss?" Elizabeth involuntarily touched her chin. Had she crumbs leftover on her face?

Darcy shook his head.

Perhaps he had come here for another reason entirely. Did he wish to perform his husbandly duties? She felt her body warm again under her gown.

"No, no. I am sorry," he said again (why were they always apologizing to each other?). "I simply wanted to discuss on Georgiana's decision."

Elizabeth found herself slightly disappointed by his answer.

"Oh, yes. I confess I am surprised."

He nodded, and his eyes slowly fell over her nightgown and her bare feet that stuck out from her gown. She pressed one foot on top of the other. It was odd that she was barefoot, but her feet had not been cold this evening. She wondered if he thought she looked like some wild country bumpkin, barefoot and hair down.

His eyes were dark in the dim light. They almost looked black, not the complex grey-green she knew them to be in sunlight. She remembered how she had overheard him say she was not fine enough to tempt him at the Netherfield Ball. How far they had come from that moment. Yet sometimes she felt she didn't know him any better today. And occasionally she felt he still looked at her with what seemed like indifference.

Her breath held as she watched his eyes go back to her face.

What was he thinking?

She knew from experience that he found her body pleasing, for they had been together many times before she realized she was expecting (and then after) for her to conclude otherwise. Even as her figure quickened and right up until confinement, she was surprised at how often he visited her bedchamber. She had been told some husbands found their wife's appearance less pleasing as they expected, but that didn't seem to be the case. If anything, he grew more tender as her stomach and body grew. But he was a man. She knew they could feel lust more differently.

She wondered again when he might visit her. And her body answered this thought by warming and starting to perspire.

"Are you well?" he asked, startling her thoughts back to the room.
"Yes, I am." She caught sight of his backside in the mirror across the room. His physique was pleasant and athletic. She needed to think about something else. "Do you still think it wise Georgiana is presented at court?"

"What-? Oh, yes," he seemed as though he had been thinking of something else completely and she'd caught him by surprise. "I think she is correct. If she and Anne both go together, they may keep each other company. I am surprised by her change of heart though."

"As am I," she admitted. "Does this mean we are planning a trip to London?"

He nodded, face still serious. "Would that be too terrible?"

She smiled at him to show she did not mind. "No, not terrible. Just...different. I confess to finding St. James' Court to be a daunting prospect."

He nodded and rubbed his chin. "Yes, it will be new for all of us. When you agreed to marry me, you didn't consider you'd be hobnobbing with royalty, did you?"

Elizabeth smiled easily. "Actually, that is expressly why I married you. Finally my all my girlhood dreams come true." She rolled her eyes. "Wait until my mother hears about this. She may get a nose bleed from the airs she will put on."

"Can we not tell her until after the fact?"

Elizabeth grinned and pulled her bare feet up under her gown on the bed mischievously."That is a capital idea, Mr. Darcy. Brilliant thinking."

He smiled back. A moment ago, he had looked uncertain, now he grinned at their joke and a lock of his dark hair fell across his forehead. He looked handsome and boyish, and Elizabeth felt a sudden urge to kiss him.

How would the prim Mr. Darcy react to a forward kiss from his wife? Would he find it wanton and leap back? She had never instigated intimate physical affection with him when they were alone. She'd never needed to before.

She held back, biting her lip.

Darcy looked at her, his smile now fading. Something else flickered in his eyes. But she couldn't tell what it was.

Impulsively, she stood up and stepped toward him, but without her shoes, she was almost a foot shorter than Darcy. His eyes widened with surprise at her quick movements.

"What-?" he said as she threw her arms around his neck, stood up on tiptoes and leaned in to kiss Darcy on the lips. At the last moment, his head jerked back and her lips pressed into the prickly scruff on his chin.

His beard hairs brushed her lips, chafing them, and she lost her balance and fell back on her bottom on the bed, her gown flying up over her bare thighs.

So much for romance.

Darcy gaped at her horrifically, his eyes wide.

For a moment she wanted to laugh. It was so ridiculous. But she saw his face, the horror in his eyes.

Oh no. She judged wrongly again. Mr. Darcy did not appreciate his wife acting so forwardly.

She instantly wanted to undo everything she had attempted to do a moment before. Her face burned with shame. Her first impulse was to grab the hem of her gown and pull it down over her legs prudishly. She moved further away from him on the bed.

He blinked at her.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck as though she had caused him pain. "I thought maybe you were trying to break my neck."

Break his neck? Insulted, Elizabeth scuttled quickly over and stood up on the other side of the bed. She wouldn't make the mistake again.

"No, of course not."

She couldn't look at him. She wouldn't. She sat and looked down at her bare feet on the floor. Now they looked obscenely naked. She huffed to a chair and grabbed a pair of discarded stockings.

"What were you trying to achieve?"

She pulled the pale pink stocking over her foot. "Nothing," she said angrily. She couldn't find the other eon. She glanced around. It wasn't on the floor or the chair. It had disappeared. Like her patience.

He smiled then, but it felt unearned and she looked away.

Now she was only wearing one stocking. She wanted to stamp her foot but it would have seemed too stupid. She was acting as silly as Lydia or Kitty.

Darcy stepped toward her, his voice now lower.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Darcy. Were you trying to kiss me just now?"

"No," she spat back, realizing how cold she sounded. "Of course not." Longing roiled in her stomach like a wave.

His boot moved another step closer.

"I think you were...trying to kiss me." His voice was now playful and teasing.

She said nothing. She still wouldn't look at him. "Why would I do that?"

He stepped right up to her now. She stared to the side so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"I'm not sure. Mayhap you fancy me?"

Now her mouth quirked up.

"I do not," she said coldly.

He reached out his hand and gently brushed a finger on the tip of her nose.

"Are you sure?"

She sighed and looked up at him. Could he allow her no dignity? He was maddening.

"Yes, I'm sure."

He held her gaze, his lips turned upwards. He slowly leaned toward her as though he might now kiss her, and her heart thumped. She felt his breath on her lips.

Very well, she would kiss him back.

It hadn't been how she planned it originally, but his body was close enough to her that to feel the heat emanating from his chest.

But his lips didn't meet hers.

"All right. If you're sure," he whispered.

Then he stepped back, away from her. She felt the cold and empty air between them. He smiled devilishly and stepped outside her bedchamber door, his dark shoulders disappearing behind the door.

She wanted to whimper with frustration.

Then Baby Cassandra's hearty cry split the air.

She looked down and saw she was still wearing only one pink stocking.

Why was everything so stupid?

Adam Merriweather's letter arrived the next morning at breakfast.

"Oh!" Georgiana squealed excitedly when the footman brought it to her, despite a mouth full of toast.

She couldn't set down the toast and rip the envelope open quickly enough. Once she had, she smiled as she read it to herself, laughing at his jokes, and then read it over again before setting the letter aside and sighing happily.

"Good news?" Elizabeth said. Darcy cleared his throat and eyed the letter on the breakfast table as though it were a snake while Geogiana hummed quietly to herself.

"Mr. Merriweather wishes me to go riding with him this afternoon if it stays clear." She glanced at the window, where the sun shone. "I do hope it does."

Georgiana smiled so broadly that Elizabeth almost laughed. She had seen that smile on her friends' faces several times. She remembered her own giddiness after William proposed, the creeping sensation that when your beloved smiled, nothing could be wrong in the world. She glanced at Darcy, who read his paper and was definitely not smiling. How would Georgiana's coming out in London fare if she was this infatuated with Mr. Merriweather? Perhaps going to London would help her know her own mind better.

She watched Darcy take a forkful of scrambled eggs. His face glowered at Georgiana's letter on the table. This morning, he was back to being serious Darcy again. No sign of her playful, maddening man who toyed her last night. She wondered if, in fact, he may have been some kind of sleep deprivation-induced vision. She was surprised by lesser things these days.

After she comforted Cassandra again last night, she silently walked past Darcy's bedroom to see if he may have a candle lit and still be awake. His door was closed and dark, and when she gently put her ear to it, she heard his quiet rhythmic snores. He slept, and she didn't have the heart to wake him. At least he rested, she told herself.

Darcy arched a dark eyebrow toward Georgiana's letter and sipped his coffee."I will tell Lady Catherine we shall go to London in April? Or shall we go sooner? March?"

Elizabeth noted that this was his first full sentence of the morning.

Georgiana's face changed instantly. She turned paler and seemed to shrink a few inches shorter than Elizabeth in her seat. But she nodded dutifully.

"Yes, of course, brother," she answered politely.

Elizabeth was beginning to feel sorry for this side of Georgiana, a stunted, painfully shy girl who appeared when Lady Catherine was invoked or when she was ordered to do something she didn't want. If this was who they accompanied to London, perhaps Darcy would see why the decision was a poor one.

Darcy nodded brusquely.

Elizabeth tried to change the subject to a pleasanter topic.

"What is your plan for this week, Georgiana, besides riding?"

She glanced at Elizabeth shyly.

"Perhaps we may go to town and look at the silk cloth at the shop. I don't know what kind of dress I should wear to court."

"As I understand, it will be an old-fashioned gown with a hoop skirt."

At this information, Georgiana's face reddened.

Elizabeth tried to set her at ease. "But we may wish to ask. The shopkeeper may know better how to attend us. Or he may have publications showing the proper fashion."

Darcy interrupted. "No need to go into town. We may as well go to London sooner and find what the dressmakers there think. Shop keepers here likely have no experience dressing girls for court," he said and seemed to laugh almost at the thought. "Why don't we pack and plan to go to London as soon as possible?"

Elizabeth's heart sank at this Darcy, who seemed so severe.

"Where would we stay?"

"At the townhouse in Mayfair, of course," he said.

Of course. She wished to remind him she had never been to the townhouse in Mayfair.

Georgiana perked up at this. "I do have nice dresses in London. Elizabeth, you will like it very much."

Elizabeth smiled. "I'm sure I will."

Darcy stood up quickly. "I will inform Lady Catherine we will leave for London in a week's time. That should allow the staff enough time to prepare the townhouse and us to pack. Of course, Lady Catherine will stay with us, if she likes."

"Oh, she likes," Georgiana said quietly, looking at her toast. "She says the copper tub in the mistress's bedchamber is the largest one in London."

Darcy's mouth lifted to one side as though he found it amusing. "Well, she will have to enjoy another bath as the house will have a new mistress."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest. "If she enjoys that room, I don't wish to put her out of it."

Darcy looked at Elizabeth with a creased brow. "She cannot stay in the mistress's chamber. She is not the mistress."

Elizabeth searched for the correct words to say. "Yes, but if she enjoys it, I can stay in another room. I'm sure I won't notice the difference."

"Nonsense," he said more forcefully than she expected. "She understands the protocol and why it is in place."

Elizabeth swallowed and was quiet. Darcy spoke as though protocol were a giant wave that would sweep over them on the way to London and transform them into the proper society master and mistress. The whole idea made her queasy. In her experience, she found that trying for perfection could be a flawed plan.

Georgiana nodded thoughtfully to Elizabeth. "Lady Catherine won't mind. I think," she added as if she weren't entirely sure either.

Lord. She, Darcy, the baby, Lady Catherine, Anne, and timid Georgiana together in one house. For weeks. The prospect of it all seemed challenging.

Elizabeth decided she wouldn't be brought down by these challenges. She would show them all how well she could adapt to fine city society, even Lady Catherine. She may never be seen as their equal, but she felt sure if she worked hard enough, they would find her amiable. She swallowed the last of her tea.

She hoped so, anyway.