Elizabeth had hardly been able to take in the main entrance way before Mrs. Reynolds ushered the trio towards another room, which turned out to be a warm and informal dining area for lunch. It held a simple wooden table to hold up to six, a few serving tables, and floor to ceiling windows overlooking their very own secluded corner of the world. Elizabeth immediately strode towards the windows, embracing the view.
Georgia strode in beside her. "I hope you do not mind eating together so informally, Elizabeth. My brother and I rarely use the main dining room, as it is far too large for just us and far too grand for family meals. We prefer to be able to speak to one another without shouting."
Elizabeth laughed and rehooked her arm through Georgiana's. "I don't mind in the slightest. This room is absolutely lovely, although I must admit to needing to see this lavish dining room you have mentioned another time. I have never needed to shout across a room to be heard," she replied teasingly.
Darcy sat at the head of the table, and Georgiana immediately took a seat to his right, clearly the chair that was hers. Elizabeth was in the midst of sitting across from her, when she paused mid air and remembered that she belonged at the other end of the table, facing her husband. Even with such a humble table, the distance between them with so few attendees seemed to swell, but the table was soon filled with plentiful dishes to share, and she focused on her meal.
Elizabeth watched quietly as Darcy and Georgiana spoke animatedly, catching one another up on the latest developments in their lives as they ate their lunch. She had never seen Darcy so lively, and it took some effort to pull her eyes from him. So much so, she did not hear Georgiana's question.
"Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked.
They were both now looking at her. Although Darcy dark and tall and Georgiana fair and petite, their identical blue eyes questioned her silence. She gave them an embarrassed smile. "I'm so sorry, what did you say? I fear my head is in the clouds."
Darcy immediately signaled to one of the footmen. "Please alert Mrs. Reynolds that we wish to retire upstairs momentarily." The footman nodded and he was off. Darcy turned to Elizabeth. "Forgive me, but I fear we have worn you out, Elizabeth. You must desire some time to rest." When she looked as if she would interrupt, he smiled softly. "I insist. It was a long journey, and we have much to show you once you've freshened up."
Elizabeth nodded in reply, and although she would not admit it, a sudden longing for someplace to rest her head and process the new normal that was her life took hold of her. "Very well," she replied and rose.
Darcy immediately rose with her and Georgiana soon followed. "My brother is right, of course. Forgive me, I am only excited for your arrival."
Elizabeth smiled broadly in reassurance. "There is no need for apologies, dear Georgiana." Mrs. Reynolds walked in at that moment. "I shall take a few minutes to collect myself, and then it will be I begging you for forgiveness when I insist upon a tour complete once I return. I warn you; I will ask many questions and insist upon every inch explored."
Off Elizabeth went, leaving the siblings to continue their conversation, and she walked in step with the housekeeper. She gave her a small smile as they returned to the main entrance way and begun to ascend the large staircase to the second floor. Elizabeth grazed her hand across the polished wood. "I fear I may never grow accustomed to such finery," she murmured.
Mrs. Reynolds turned to give her a warm smile. "You will at home soon enough, I am sure, Mrs. Darcy." She led them towards the left after completing the stairs, down a long hallway, filled with turns and doors every which way. Finally near the end, they stopped at one of two doors, both gleaming from polish. The housekeeper lifted her chin towards the further of the two, and she said, "That is the master's bedchamber." She then laid her hand upon the door knob in front of them. "And this is your bedchamber, Mrs. Darcy." Mrs. Reynolds opened the door and moved aside to allow Elizabeth first entry.
From floor to ceiling, intricate designs of creeping ivy danced along the panels of the walls. The ceiling held an ornate chandelier that, Elizabeth thought fleetingly, must take two or three servants to clean. The bed was large and imposing, a mix of dark greens and ruby reds and tall dark oak posters. She pursed her lips. It was not her taste at all, but it was hers. A refuge of her own if need be.
Mrs. Reynolds showed her the adjoining bath, the tub full of steaming scented water. "I had a bath drawn for you, Mrs. Darcy. Miss Georgiana is always so dusty after her travels. A hot bath should be just the ticket."
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes on the pristine claw foot tub and nearby vanity. She spied another door. "Does this lead to Mr. Darcy's chambers?"
Mrs. Reynolds nodded. "Correct, ma'am. His bath shares a wall with yours." She turned back into the bedroom. Her hands made busy work of adjusting a curtain to one of the large windows. Outside a long balcony stood, and Elizabeth knew at once she would spend much time there. Mrs. Reynolds cleared her throat. "It pains me to say this, ma'am, as I fear it will make me seem inept at my duties, but as we only just received word of your marriage, we have not employed a lady's maid for you yet, Mrs. Darcy." She straightened her back properly. "I assure you, it is of top priority, and I am determined to find you a maid worthy of you in no time at all."
Elizabeth gently took the housekeeper's hand into her own and waited for the older woman to meet her eyes before she smiled warmly. "Please do not fret, Mrs. Reynolds. We do not know each other yet, but although my father is a gentleman, I grew up in a humble home. My four sisters and I shared but one maid. I am confident in your ability to fill the position, but please do not make yourself uneasy over it. I shall dress myself in the meantime."
Mrs. Reynolds was smiling back at the lady's kindness until the very last sentence. "I would not think of it, Mrs. Darcy! You mustn't dress yourself as such a fine lady. Miss Georgiana's maid, Mary, has agreed to assist you until we find your own maid. You shall be taken care of, but I thank you for your kind words all the same."
With that, Mrs. Reynolds bade Elizabeth goodbye to allow her to bathe and rest. As soon as the door was shut, Elizabeth's eyes attempted to take in every detail of the room. Overwhelmed, she sat on the bed, which was most comfortable. Curious to study the chandelier more closely, she laid down and within minutes, she promptly fell asleep.
Elizabeth suddenly opened her eyes. It took her several moments to remember where she was, but before she could ascertain how long she had been asleep, a knock sounded on her door.
"Mrs. Darcy?" an unfamiliar voice called from the other side. Elizabeth immediately jumped to her feet and smoothed the wrinkles of her dress. She hurriedly opened the door to find a maid looking nervously back toward her. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but supper will be within the hour. My name is Mary, Miss Georgiana's maid, and I am to dress you."
Elizabeth gave her a sheepish smile and allowed her entry before closing the door again. Mary immediately walked to the nearby closet and began sorting through the her dresses already hanging there. When they had moved from trunk to closet, she knew not. "I fear I had fallen asleep. I will be just a moment." And she scurried towards the bathroom as Mary continued to choose a garment for her.
Although the water had chilled toward something close to unbearable, the bath had refreshed Elizabeth. She must had been napping for at least two hours, but it had done wonders to clear her head. She was ready to explore and to get to know her new sister some more. Darcy too, she presumed, as an afterthought.
Within minutes, Mary had dressed her and attempted to pin her hair back to some resemblance of proper styling. Elizabeth's hair was fine and delicate, but she had a lot of it. For a moment, her heart ached for Jane again; she was the only person able to wrangle her hair properly.
Within minutes, a lock had escaped and cascaded over her shoulder, but Elizabeth paid it no mind. She had made her way downstairs after getting lost a few times, and there were many rooms to discover. Her eyes took in every detail: the handsome paintings, the delicate pottery, and the enormous grandeur of each room. As soon as Elizabeth found what must be her very favorite room, she entered another and determined it now was the best.
Within the fourth or fifth foyer she stumbled upon, a clear glass case held individual miniature portraits of what must be the Darcy family tree. The likeness to Darcy and Georgiana was very keen, and she studied their parents' faces, looking into their eyes hoping for some story behind them. She continued looking at the formidable Lady Catherine and the meek Anne De Bough, and then what must be Colonel Fitzwilliam's family.
Off to the side, sat two small portraits that weren't connected to Darcy tree, but obviously held some place in the family's heart as they sat within the same glass container. Elizabeth looked first to the older gentleman and then to the younger. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Wickham, and the likeness was absolute.
A rush of something akin to guilt and shame rushed through her. How might he react when he hears the news of her marriage to the one man that delivered his current state of living? She knew not and she wished not to ponder it any longer. Perhaps she might write to him and offer her reasoning.
Weary of such thoughts, Elizabeth continued her journey to the next room nearby, and she knew then that no other room could triumph this. It was the library, and it teemed with rows and rows of leather bound books. Ladders stood nearby to reach those upon the very top rows, but Elizabeth could not imagine that anyone could ever read each and every one in a lifetime.
The room was warm and inviting, a fire nestled into a far corner nearby a window overlooking an exquisite pond and greenery. She ached to retrieve a book, any book, and nestle herself into the depths of the soft chairs.
But just as she was about to do just that, she stumbled to a stop. Darcy sat in one of the very chairs she was able to burrow into, and he was asleep.
Elizabeth was about to turn and go, but something kept her feet glued to the spot. How very vulnerable and young he look while sleeping. She smiled wide when she saw on his chest rested Robinson Crusoe. It moved steadily up and down with each breath.
Hardly knowing what she was doing or why, Elizabeth sunk down until she knelt next to him. Her eyes raked over his features, the loosened cravat at his neck, the breadth of his hands across the novel. Slowly, she took her time in studying his face. She had to admit, Darcy was a very handsome man. How fine his eyelashes were brushed across his skin. His dark hair gently tousled across his forehead, and she imagined his fingers working through it when deep in thought.
Heading south, her eyes took in his strong jawline, finally landing on his lips, which were parted slightly and softly pink. She could not look away from them, and she gently bit her own bottom lip as she continued her study of his mouth.
Suddenly, Darcy grasped her closest wrist to him, his hand warm and large, swallowing her up. Her eyes flew first to his hand and then to his eyes, and she gasped. He was awake and silent, his blue eyes boring into hers. A long moment, much too long, passed as she remained frozen, breath not coming easily to her, but in the next, Elizabeth stood up and ran from the room, leaving Darcy alone with his thoughts.