Page 40 of An Offer of Marriage (Engaged to Mr Darcy #7)

THE COMFORT OF HOME

E lizabeth found herself nearly overcome by the sight of her family, gathered outside of Longbourn to greet her.

It felt like it had been an age since she was last in Hertfordshire, even though it had been only a few weeks.

Her eyes roamed the place hungrily while the carriage came to a halt, drinking in the familiar sights.

She had not before realised how lonely she had felt in London until the warm cloak of her family’s chaos was settled upon her shoulders.

Evidently, too-quiet surroundings, no matter how elegant, did not truly suit her.

She had brought gifts for all her sisters, and Kitty and Lydia both set upon her at once, demanding them. “Perhaps I might remove my pelisse first?” she teased, but soon thereafter set about distributing the laces and trim that had been requested.

They had arrived early enough in the day to have many hours of amusement before dinner. Mary wished to play a song for her that she had lately mastered, and Kitty wished to show her a landscape she had painted.

“A view from Oakham Mount,” Elizabeth said delightedly. “It is absolutely marvellous!”

“Do you really think so?” Kitty turned pink with pleasure.

Elizabeth kissed her sister. “I truly do.”

There were five days until the wedding, but Elizabeth soon found there was not much to be done for it, except to preserve her sister’s sanity.

Too much had been done too early, and there was nothing left to do but await the event itself; in the case of Mrs Bennet, this waiting was accompanied by a great deal of fretting.

Elizabeth contented herself in the sure knowledge that she was being useful in providing comfort to dear Jane, and in interceding when Mrs Bennet had attacks of her nerves or began to instruct Jane on the ways of a proper wife.

Thoughts of her husband were never far from her mind, no matter how much she wished to banish her worries and problems. He had been very altered of late; his anger had diminished, but quiet watchfulness had replaced it.

She hardly knew what to make of it. When her family asked about him, she said only that he was well and eager to see his friend married to his sister-in-law.

Several letters had passed between them over the days, all of which said nothing but the sort of thing which might have been said to anyone.

She acquainted him with plans he already knew about, and he told her of goings-on in town.

The days flew by as Elizabeth had known they would.

On the night before Darcy’s arrival in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth lay in her bed, hearing Jane’s breathing across the room, as she had since she was too young to remember it.

This is likely the last time I will ever do this , she mused.

Jane and I will both be married ladies, our places with our husbands .

She would decamp to Netherfield to stay with Darcy. Much as she wished for him to be kindlier towards her family, she would not try his patience by insisting he dwell under one roof with all of them.

“Lizzy?”

“I thought you were asleep!” Elizabeth looked across the room, barely able to make out Jane’s shape in the darkness. It seemed like she was leaning up on one elbow.

“Pray do not tell me how I must rest because once Charles has at me, I shall not sleep for a month. Mama says so all the time, and it is simply too mortifying!” The two sisters laughed quietly, years of practice telling them at just what volume they might express their mirth without detection.

“You will not hear any such thing from me,” Elizabeth promised. “In any case—how would I know?” She gave another little chuckle but realised she was alone in that.

“What do you mean?” Jane asked.

“I mean…what you think I mean? I do not know that aspect of being a wife.”

“Oh.” Jane paused then asked, “Not at all?”

“Not at all. I tried to dab spirits off his trousers once, and he nearly threw himself off the balcony of the theatre to get away from me.”

“Oh, Lizzy. I am sorry for you. Does it distress you?”

“No, not really. My husband and I were scarcely on speaking terms at first. To imagine him appearing in my room in his nightshirt is nothing short of bizarre.” Unbidden, the remembrance of the first time they had kissed in the Gardiners’ parlour came into her mind.

That had been very nice, very…surprising.

She remembered the feeling of wanting more, of thinking, in that moment, that perhaps marital relations were nothing to fear but much to anticipate .

“Do you think anything has improved with him? Is he still so very angry with you?”

Elizabeth shifted to look in Jane’s direction.

“I do not think he is, but I cannot really say. I am surely not going to be the one to introduce the subject again, not when doing so has, so many times, displeased him. Perhaps forgiveness is impossible, but if nothing else, we might agree to begin anew.”

“And what of your forgiveness?” Jane enquired.

“Mine?”

“Can you ever grow to love a man who has injured you so? Who has made you frightened of him?”

Elizabeth considered that. “I think,” she began slowly, “the thing that frightens me most of all is to imagine living out my days in a loveless state. There is nothing I fear more, if I am being honest. I can endure anything else but this silent, solitary condition in which I have lived these weeks.”

“I do believe he loved you. Who could not?”

“Many people,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “But yes, he did, and perhaps he still does and has only kept it hidden behind a thick stone wall of fury. But if the fury is gone, and the love is still there…then I daresay we just might have a chance at surviving this.”

“So you do think you still might one day love him? Despite all of this?”

Elizabeth shifted in the bed, moving one of the coverlets aside. “The man I met in London was exceedingly lovable. Should I meet that man again, yes, I do think I would fall in love with him.”

A multitude of times, Darcy had taken pen in hand, wanting to write Elizabeth a letter that would express to her how much he regretted…

well, everything. All the offences to her, to her family, even to her neighbours in Hertfordshire.

He wanted to tell her she had had it right—he had behaved as an arrogant fool—but the words which emerged on the paper were all wrong.

Thus would he lapse into saying stupid things no one cared about, not even himself.

He could only pray that when the time came for a true exposition of his heart, it would come across as it needed to.

On arriving in Hertfordshire, he went first to Longbourn to meet his wife and take her with him to Netherfield.

She awaited him in the vestibule, her pelisse already on and her bonnet in hand, and for a moment his heart nearly choked him.

Not merely for her beauty, although she was looking uncommonly well, but just for the fact of her very existence.

A hollowness that he had not realised plagued him these five days complete was suddenly filled.

I wish never to be parted from you again , he thought as he bowed over her hand and uttered some hackneyed expressions of greeting.

“Shall we go?” she asked, moving towards the door.

“Should I not go greet the rest of your family?” he asked and then recognised sounds he had not before consciously acknowledged. An argument was in progress, with much shrieking and crying involved.

“Everyone will be at Netherfield later,” she said, her voice plainly betraying her dismay. Without further syllable, she exited the house and he followed her. Shall I address it? Say it matters not?

He had travelled with both Fields and Miss Beauregard, and they waited within the carriage.

Elizabeth greeted them both, informing Miss Beauregard that her trunk had preceded them to Netherfield earlier that day.

Then she sat with her head turned towards the window for the duration of the short journey.

Mrs Nicholls greeted them and instructed a footman to take them to their guest apartment. As they were led, Darcy said, very quietly, “Families do argue, do they not?”

“Not like mine does,” she said grimly. “Not with such…vehemence.”

“I do not think I can agree with you on that point.”

Surprised, she turned to look at him.

“Only imagine the scene at Rosings back in April…I trust they were not rolling on the ground beating one another, were they?”

That made a small smile flit across her face. “Sometimes I wish they would,” she said. “Just to get it all out. It would undoubtedly be of shorter duration.”

“Yes, but a lady with a black eye or a sticking plaster on her face might be too shocking. And a lady, alas, could not blame her valet for nicking her while shaving.”

Now she laughed outright, the sound of it echoing down the hall as they arrived at the door. The footman opened it, revealing Fields and Miss Beauregard already within, already engaged in busily arranging things to the master’s and mistress’s satisfaction. Darcy came to an immediate, shocked halt.

The footman paused and enquired, “A problem, sir?”

“No, of course not.”

“No doubt you stayed in a bedchamber on the east side before—they are smaller but well-fitted for visiting bachelors.”

Bachelors. Which he was no longer, though he lived like one. He supposed it was a good sign that no one thought anything amiss in his marriage, that a shared bedchamber was commonplace for the Darcys.

“Of course. This will do very well,” said Darcy, watching as Elizabeth moved farther into the room, glancing about her.

It was a fine room, airy and bright, with a bed that was as large as any he had ever seen before.

A bed. Where he would be required to sleep with his wife.

His beautiful wife with whom he was not on sleeping terms.