Page 35 of A Maid of No Consequence (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
A HOPE OF FUTURE HAPPINESS
T wo mornings later, Elizabeth found herself at the manor house as Darcy received his morning post. He took the two letters presented to him, opening the topmost one first. “It is from Fitzwilliam. He and Anne mean to wed in a fortnight, at Matlock. Our presence is requested.”
“Excellent news,” she said before noticing Darcy’s furrowed brow. “Are you not happy?”
“It is my dearest wish to see my cousins happy.”
“Then why do you look so forlorn?” She reached over to settle her hand on his arm.
“Forlorn? No. I find myself impatient is all, my love. Would it be our announcement that we are to be wed in a fortnight!”
Despite his smile, she could see yearning in his eyes.
“It will be soon,” she promised. “I do wish my sisters were not in every corner of England. ”
“You are teaching me patience. But you know by now, I have been waiting for you to be my wife for a very long time. I do know how important it is for you to have your sisters here. And I am willing to wait as long as it takes. And do you know why?”
She raised her brow, “And why is that?”
“Because you, my love, are very much worth the wait.” The look he sent her, warmed her to her very core.
She watched as he opened the second letter and scanned the lines quickly. “Lady Matlock is coming to Pemberley to meet my future bride.”
“Lady Matlock is coming here? To meet me?” Elizabeth’s voice rose, reflecting the trepidation she felt with such news.
“My cousins have sung your praises, as well they should. Lady Matlock is nothing at all like Lady Catherine. You have nothing to fear.”
She exhaled to calm her nerves. “Not everyone will see my past as generously as you do.”
“Your circumstances were not of your own making. And do you know how proud I am of you, for your tenacity, and that fiery independence, to survive and to make sure your sisters were all cared for?” He reached over to cover her hand with both of his.
“I am betrothed to a woman of substance, a woman of true worth. And no one shall disagree with that assessment, once they know you as I do.”
After a moment, she offered a small smile. “I hope you are correct.”
She did not realise tears had come to her eyes until, in one quick movement, he had his perfectly starched and ironed handkerchief out of his pocket and extended to her.
She took it with a laugh. “I have wondered this since the first day we met again in London. You handed me one just like this, and quite a few since. Who has made all of these for you? You must have a room full of them somewhere here at Pemberley.”
Darcy smiled charmingly at her. “There is indeed a story attached. Georgiana had difficulty learning how to embroider. Her governess at the time, Miss Newbold, I believe, made her sew five a week, until she mastered it.”
He looked down at the pristine square, now in Elizabeth’s own hand, a small grin playing on his lips. “She confessed to me, just days before her wedding, that she would be happy to never see the letters FD embroidered on anything for the rest of her life.”
“I can imagine I would feel the same!” She laughed as she dried her few errant tears with said handkerchief. “I own that embroidery is not one of my esteemed accomplishments. Your sister and I have that in common, at least. I am very much looking forward to meeting her.”
“She is quite eager to meet you, though she has not yet been churched.” He frowned a little. “I suppose it is not only your sisters who delay our nuptials. I confess, I am very much looking forward to seeing my niece and nephew again.”
With a clearing of his throat, he gently took the handkerchief from her.
“Come, I wish to show you something.” He rose from his seat and, in a fluid movement, all but pulled her from hers.
He tugged her behind him, both of them laughing as they walked long halls and up several flights of stairs.
At length they arrived in a very small passageway.
She paused and looked around at the unfamiliar walls. “Where are we? ”
He did not answer her, but reached up for a handle, and in one smooth movement, pulled down a hidden staircase.
“Is this where hundreds of embroidered monogrammed handkerchiefs are kept?” she teased with an arched brow.
He laughed but did not reply, instead gesturing towards the staircase. “After you.”
“I must go up into the dusty attic first?”
He gave Elizabeth a look of mock indignation. “I assure you, ma’am, the maids at Pemberley do not permit any place to become dusty, not even the attics.”
She smiled and began a slow ascent, making sure she did not step on her gown as she climbed.
The room was not completely dark, as there was some light coming in from a small dormer window; she was able to stand straight but the top of her head was just inches from the ceiling.
Darcy was correct, the room had not a speck of dust. He came up behind her, remaining in a half-crouch.
Elizabeth surveyed all she could see in the dim light—a writing desk, mahogany room dividers, a few fire screens, and children’s books stacked on a dresser.
“There was a time I could stand in here with no fear of harming my skull.” With a slight hunch to his shoulders, Darcy walked to the opposite wall and opened the inner shutter on a small window, letting in more light.
“So, this is where Pemberley’s secrets are held?”
“Some, perhaps,” he agreed, looking around at the items within, now brightened by the sun’s rays through the window. “It has been an age since I have been up here. There are many of Henry’s things here. My mother had them put away after…”
His voice went quiet, and Elizabeth came up beside him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.
“There are things here and in the other attics that you may find useful,” he said.
“Soon you will have the mistress’s chambers to yourself, and while it was to my mother’s taste, you will likely wish to make changes. ”
“I cannot imagine that your mother’s chambers would be displeasing in any way.”
“But I would wish them to be yours, a place where you are comfortable, with your own stamp upon it. This is your home too, or it shall soon be. I want you to be happy here.” He squeezed her hand and pulled her gently to the side.
“Over here, this is what I wanted to show you.” Darcy gestured towards a small wooden cradle sitting in the corner.
Elizabeth walked over and gently touched it with her hand. “Oh. It is perfect.”
“It was made for my father, by his own father.”
“So beautiful,” she breathed. “Look at these carvings.” She ran her fingers over the ornate scrollwork. “One day…”
He finished her thought. “One day it will be for our own children.” He turned to look at her, and even in the dim light of the attics, she could see his tender care for her. “We have much joy to anticipate.”
She nodded, seeing a reflection of her own hopes and dreams in Darcy’s eyes. “Yes, we most certainly do.”