18. Have I Made a Mistake?

Immediately after nodding, I saw a look of triumph in Mr. Darcy's eyes, of smug satisfaction even and I began to wonder What have I done? If he can succeed at doing as he offered, he will believe his actions all are justified.

Although Mr. Darcy was still kneeling, he commanded in a most imperious tone, one that I resented even as it thrilled me, "If that be the case, my wife, you should lie down and see if you can gain some rest, for it will be a rather long night for the both of us."

I half wished to argue, to take it all back, but as I had slept rather ill for the past six months, nay longer than that, and did not think I had the energy for further debate, I decided to concede on this one issue although I doubted that sleep could find me just then. I did not want him to change his mind, have an excuse to once again try to bend me to his will. I believed if I obeyed now, he would leave me alone for the rest of the carriage ride at least.

I also recalled Lydia's supposition that I might well get little sleep upon my wedding night (as well as her comments about my husband's probable size). Should I not try to rest now, so as to endure more later? I did not believe at all that my husband would not take his satisfaction that very night.

So it was that I curled up on my seat to try to at least give the semblance of attempting to sleep. Mr. Darcy, unbidden, removed my slippers with a sure and confident touch and then covered me with a light blanket before taking his own seat. Such an intimacy felt odd, but was not unwelcome.

Before attempting to close my eyes, I observed him lift a portable desk onto his lap and open up what appeared to be a journal. I could not help but ask "Shall you not try to sleep as well?"

Mr. Darcy shook his head, causing his dark locks to flutter and gave a grin of mirth. I had the idle thought of wondering whether his hair was coarse or soft, recalling how his lips felt against mine.

"My darling wife, I could no more sleep now than a boy could sleep while awaiting a sumptuous dessert or standing in a line to commence a foot race. I anticipate much, must plan, strategize how best to give you delight."

Horrified that he might pen some lines about that I half raised myself and asked "Surely you shall not write things of that sort down?"

"Rest easy, my love, I shall not, although there are certainly books of that sort at Pemberley, and my London house does not lack such volumes either, although they focus more on men's pleasure than on delighting womankind.

"I plan to write about how I am feeling now, try to put it in a pretty verse if I can. You are so very lovely over there, so desirable, you who are my wife in vow and not yet my wife in deed. Tonight I shall demand nothing for myself, for you deserve worship as my queen. Yet I do admit I hope to give you such satiation that you might take pity on me in any account."

How easily Mr. Darcy called me "darling" "my love" and let compliments drip from his tongue. It seemed an oddity to be sure, yet if he wished to fancy himself in love and treat me better accordingly, I resolved that I should not try to argue him out of it again. I made no reply besides slumping down and indeed the rocking of the carriage and the warmth of the blanket began to lull me within minutes. Accompanied by the soft scratching of his pen I soon slumbered and dreamed of his lips kissing me, his hands roaming everywhere.

I awoke sometime later to Mr. Darcy kissing my forehead and murmuring, "Wake up Elizabeth; we are here."

It took me some moments to understand where we were and to recall I was now a married woman. I had slept hard and even had to wipe away some drool crusting the corner of my mouth. I had a bit of a headache, a crick in my neck, and was sure my hair was a fright. Furthermore, with the clarity that sleep can bring I was all but certain that agreeing to his proposal, both of them, had been a grave mistake. But then my rationality made itself known and declared that since I was indeed married, better to welcome his advances than perhaps simply have them forced upon me. My husband would get what he wanted one way or the other as was his right.

Exiting the carriage, I spied a fine house of brick before us, and on his arm walked toward it. Mr. Darcy's valet opened the door and we were greeted by an old woman with a hunched back who leaned heavily upon a cane. "Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, I am so pleased." She turned a warm smile in our direction, though by her rummy eyes I doubted she could see us well.

"Mrs. Johnson, I trust suitable preparations have been made?"

"Oh yes indeed. We acted in haste when receiving your express. The maid of all trade attended to what I could not manage myself. The mistress's chambers have been refreshed, a meal shall arrive from the inn at half past six, Mrs. Frank's niece shall be arriving tomorrow morning to see to the missus, and the scullery maid will be here in the morning as well. We could not get them here any earlier I am afraid. I can try to see to your wife myself tonight, but my eyes and hands are not what they used to be."

Mrs. Johnson held up her free hand and I saw that her fingers were twisted and gnarled. In seeing that I was quick to reply, "I thank you, but I can see to myself for one night."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy," she turned her face in his general direction, her cloudy eyes staring more at his chest than his face, and I wondered if she could see anything at all, "your wife is both pretty and kind, with the voice of an angel. Your sainted mother would be so pleased that you have finally married. Should I show Mrs. Darcy to her chambers?"

Mr. Darcy turned a kindly eye on Mrs. Johnson, "That will not be necessary, Mrs. Johnson. I shall see to it myself. You may retire once the meal has arrived."

"I have already set the small dining table, but can move the service elsewhere should you wish it," Mrs. Johnson offered.

"That is fine," Mr. Darcy said in a gentle voice. "Well done. Send Mr. Colter to inform us when the meal is ready. I think after we have refreshed ourselves we shall go to the parlor for a time. I hope to persuade Mrs. Darcy to play something for me on the piano forte."

I wished to decline, but Mrs. Johnson's face shone with joy. "Oh that would be most lovely. I have missed hearing Miss Darcy play, though of course understand that it is far better that she have the company of the Countess."

I demured. "I am certain my playing is nothing to Miss Darcy's, for I understand she is very skilled and I have not studied at the instrument as I ought."

Mr. Darcy replied, "Mrs Johnson, do not be fooled. My wife's playing is delightful if not flawless. I believe my heart was captured when I heard and saw her play." Then to me he added "Please indulge me and say you will play."

Mrs. Johnson added, "I have always thought that music makes a house a home. Perhaps I shall be able to hear some of it while I do the dusting."

While I had little desire to play my imperfect pieces for Mr. Darcy, I did want to please his evidently loyal servant, so there was nothing else to do but agree and enjoy their answering smiles.

"Shall there be anything else just now, Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

"Yes, keep the knocker off the door, admit no one whose arrival has not previously been arranged with me. Not any relatives, not even Colonel Fitzwilliam, no friends, not even Mr. Bingley. Let no one be told we are in residence for the entirety of our stay."

"Yes sir," she replied and then asked, "about the duration of your stay . . . I was uncertain if you meant for me to hire a cook and additional servants, or if it be too brief for that and you would prefer to continue to receive meals from the inn."

To my surprise, Mr. Darcy turned to me and asked, "Mrs. Darcy, what would you prefer? It shall take three days to reach Pemberley at the easier pace I employ when escorting a lady." He answered my unbidden question by clarifying, "I have never liked my sister to have to bear the discomfort of too speedy of travel. We may remain in London as long as you like as I need not return until the planting, but this time of year the stink of the summer is approaching."

I considered. I wished to see my Gardiner relatives, to perhaps sort out the matter of the fund Mr. Darcy provided to redeem Lydia, but as the man himself had not wished to make himself known to them in regards to all of that, and I doubted he would wish for me to have anything to do with them now. After all, they were in trade. But if I could not see them, there was really nothing here for me. I also recalled Miss Bingley's praise of Pemberley. Perhaps it would be best to simply travel to where we would live.

I recalled that today was a Wednesday and that we could not make our way fully to Derbyshire unless we left the next day, if we did not wish to travel on a Sunday. Hoping I was making the right decision, I said "Perhaps we should leave in the morning, or if that does not suit, can leave on Monday."

"Tomorrow shall suit," my husband said, "for I have longed to show you our home, but we need not leave too early for I imagine you will be tired given our journey today." He looked at me with a gleam in his eye that suggested to me that the bedroom activities he had planned for me, would be what tired me out.

"Very good," said Mrs. Johnson. "I am certain that Mrs. Frank's niece shall be ready to make the journey and attend to the missus properly whenever she shall arise in the morning."

Once she was dismissed, Mr. Darcy took me up the staircase to my room. Mr. Colter, who was Mr. Darcy's valet, as I had learned, accompanied us, setting down my heavy trunk just inside my chambers to the left of my door, just before leaving I suppose to retrieve his master's smaller trunk. Mr. Darcy then gestured me forward and I entered before he followed.

Although I had somewhat become accustomed to being alone with Mr. Darcy in the carriage, I still felt uncomfortable being with him in the mistress's chambers and so walked around the room to try to ease my discomfort.

The mistress's chambers were done up in shades of pinks and reds, with fine cherry wood for the dresser, wardrobe and bed (which rose in high spindles). It was nothing I would have ever chosen, but the quality was evident. New unlit candles were in the candelabras, wood had been laid in the fireplace, and a large cake of soap was beside the filled pitcher and basin. The chamber had evidently been well cleaned and aired, curtains were tied back from two windows that faced a smallish park.

The soft pink bedding which was dotted with the outline of roses, seemed new. I briefly imagined the activities that might take place on that bed tonight and felt my face warm uncomfortably. While Mr. Darcy was kissing me in the carriage, I was too overcome to think about my modesty, but the idea of being laid out, perhaps naked on that bed, of having my maiden's blood stain the pink bedding, it was all too mortifying.

When I turned away from the bed in my embarrassment, another feature of the room captured my attention, the inner door. Mr. Darcy noticing my interest, opened the door and said, "That is the connecting door to my own room." He beckoned me forward; however, as I had no wish to enter therein, I lingered beside the doorframe on my side. He thus passed through on his own. I observed the browns and greens of his furnishings, the dark oak furniture, the ample bed. A side table piled high with books and correspondence was next to a large wingback chair and footstool. It suited him.

I felt awkward, seeing his private chamber, knowing it adjoined mine, the access it gave him. I could see how there was a lock on the door on his side; he could lock me out of his room, but I could not do the same.

"I suppose we ought to refresh ourselves before dinner," Mr. Darcy suggested. He consulted his pocket watch and noted, "It is a quarter to six already. There is no need for formality here. Knock on the door when you are ready to go down." I nodded and after staring at me for a few seconds, closed his door.

I sighed and began looking around for the necessary. Once I had attended to that task, I set about washing my face, hands and the stickiness off my thighs, before trying to sort out my hair. The looking glass revealed that the flowers were all crushed and with some difficulty I removed all the pins and flowers, merely twisting my hair up and securing it with two pins. Resolving that I was ready, I knocked and Mr. Darcy came through the door.

I played the piano forte poorly in my estimation. But for that I can blame Mr. Darcy who sat beside me on the bench, his thigh pressing against my own.

The meal was hearty if simple fare, and though I had naught since the morning besides thrice brewed tea and the end of a loaf of bread, I could only manage a few bites after Mr. Darcy dismissed Mrs. Johnson and told her we planned to retire after we ate. Mr. Darcy ate well and kept my wine glass filled and I am sure I drank rather more than I ought. When his plate was empty, and the bottle, too, although he had merely sipped at his one glass which was still half-full, he asked, staring at me with his dark eyes "Do you not think, Mrs. Darcy, that we ought to retire?"

I felt uncertain, scared (although I imagine the wine had dulled the worst of it), but I had always known that we must eventually retire. I tried to invoke my courage, but could only manage a nod.

I feared that I had made a terrible mistake, but there was nothing for it now but to take my medicine, to sip it down to the bitter end. Such was the price I had paid to assure my family of a comfortable home. Thus, I accepted Mr. Darcy's arm and let him lead me to my room. I had expected to have him leave me there for his own, but instead as soon as the door was closed behind me, he attacked me with his lips and hands and the feelings I had felt in the carriage all came rushing back.