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THE USELESS KNOCKER

W ith each passing day, Darcy grew more impatient to be on the way back to Pemberley, where he eagerly anticipated celebrating his first month of marriage to Elizabeth.

Time was short, and reaching his— their!

— estate in time to mark the day was imperative.

Married in Meryton, they had come to town to enjoy at least a se’nnight at Darcy House with the door knocker off before succumbing to family parties and introducing her to a small coterie of friends.

It was meant to be their time. After months of thinking and dreaming of Elizabeth Bennet, despairing of her good opinion and affections, she had given him her heart, accepted his love, and taken his name.

They wanted no company more than each other’s—at dinner, at tea, at breakfast, morning, noon, and night.

Even Georgiana was staying with their aunt and uncle to ensure them privacy for their first days of marital happiness.

Only a handful of servants could know the couple rarely left their chambers before mid-afternoon, or returned to them hurriedly after a sojourn to walk off whatever energy they had not spent.

How pleasurable their days and nights were; Darcy had never been so happy and easy before, and Elizabeth sought to assure him she felt the same.

Nevertheless, far too much of their first weeks of marriage had been spent in his family’s company.

The newly wedded couple’s peace had been cut up by the whims and demands of Lady Catherine.

The sooner he and Elizabeth returned to Pemberley, the sooner they could truly begin their new life together.

Today, with only Georgiana to hear Elizabeth’s amusing opinions of the opera—‘rather overblown’—and the fashions—‘more sedate than what I might have worn if not for a well-spilt glass of Madeira’—the day had been blessedly quiet but for the laughter and music.

Only moments ago, he had been left to himself when the ladies went to Elizabeth’s dressing room to look over the latest additions to her wardrobe—including the goods delivered from ‘Madame Badeaux’.

The new sisters made a pretty picture, strolling away arm in arm, laughing together over some clever thing he hoped Elizabeth might confide to him later.

Swelling with happiness, off he went to his study, where he applied himself to writing letters.

After replying to a question posed by his steward at Pemberley, he penned a short letter to Mrs Reynolds relating that their current departure plans would see their arrival in Derbyshire no later than the tenth of December.

It would be a leisurely journey, staying at his favoured inns, yet there would be time for him to show Elizabeth the estate, and she would have occasion to settle into her new duties and prepare for the arrival of the Gardiners and their children.

Thankfully, Mrs Bennet had determined Christmas at Netherfield was more desirable this year.

After suffering his aunt’s trouble-making in town, Darcy did not think he could bear all the Bennets under his roof—even Pemberley was not large enough to provide haven.

He read over his words before adding a few more:

Mrs Darcy is especially fond of fish, peas and asparagus, and gingerbread, and shares my distaste for mutton.

Two afternoons later, the Darcys were laughing as they emerged from the carriage into the bright sun, cheered by a morning of shopping and eager to review their happiness in their chambers. They had gained the steps when a voice cut through the air.

“What did you buy for me?”

Elizabeth felt Darcy tense at the most unwelcome interruption to their plans. “Fitzwilliam,” he said in a low voice before turning round to scowl at his cousin standing on the path a few yards away.

Recognising her husband’s displeasure, and not a little annoyed herself, Elizabeth waved the footman inside with their purchases before greeting the jovial colonel.

“Mrs Darcy, what has happened to my lovesick cousin? You have not been married a month and he is frowning,” he said, chuckling.

“Has Lady Catherine been round, or is the shopping weighing him down?” He put his boot on the step, and apparently unable to comprehend that she and his ‘lovesick’ cousin preferred only the other’s company, tilted his head and said to Darcy, “Now that that ordeal is ended, shall we go inside and sample a brandy?”

Before Darcy could growl at him, Elizabeth asked, “Have you news from Himdale House that cannot wait until this evening?” She and Darcy would once again be thrust into company with Lady Catherine; although other than tonight’s dinner it was likely their final social obligation with any of the Fitzwilliams before their departure for Pemberley.

“Beyond my father’s reminder to be prompt this evening and my desire for company away from home until that time?— ”

“We shall see you at six.” Darcy put his hand on Elizabeth’s back to lead her into the house.

The colonel appeared a little stunned. “Can you not offer refuge to a man besieged by bad-tempered women? After her success with Elizabeth, Lady Catherine appears eager to extend her stay at Himdale House and wishes me to escort Anne to the Townsends’ ball next week.”

‘Her success?’ Elizabeth had many thoughts on what manner of success Lady Catherine had achieved, but she felt she had served her purpose.

She had given Darcy’s aunt the opportunity to bestow her opinions and tastes on a new and most objectionable niece more willing to engage her ideas than to bend to them.

Unfortunately, the lady seemed no less strident than when she had first appeared on their doorstep and demanded Elizabeth acquiesce to her tutelage.

Rather, her presence in town and mixing in society appeared to have sharpened her opinions.

It was disheartening and did not bode well for dinner this evening nor any future Fitzwilliam family gathering.

Still, it was surprising news that Rosings would go without its mistress for at least another week. Mr Collins must be beside himself with concern, and poor Charlotte forced to tolerate more of his company than usual.

Darcy evidently cared little for this news, nor for his cousin’s pleas. “Does not the War Office require you to make strategy or play cards?” He reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “We shall see you at six.”

Feeling awkward, Elizabeth smiled at the colonel.

“Pray excuse us. The knocker is off our door, even to family, for the remainder of our time in town. Perhaps you could entertain Georgiana with a visit to Gunter’s.

We shall be gone in a few days, and likely you will not see her until Easter.

” She slipped inside the door, but not before hearing his amused riposte.

“Yes, yes. Take the knocker off and have your rest. You young people wear yourselves out shopping and such, and yet my mother and aunt never flag.”