Page 18 of Mistress of Pemberley
Awakened by unfamiliar noises in the house, Elizabeth remained still for a few moments, her eyes closed, unsure of where she was. Then, as she opened them to the unknown room, which she had seen only by candlelight the night before, it took her a while to take it all in—the elegance, the refinement, and the warmth of the late Mrs Darcy’s bedroom, now hers.
Soon, all her memories came rushing back, centring on the man in the room adjoining hers, who was awaiting her without any doubt.
The truth was she did not know what to do next.
Uncertain how to summon her maid, she realised she knew nothing about how such a vast household was run. Fear gripped her, but such a state was uncharacteristic. When she heard a soft knock at the door between their bedrooms, she shook off her worries and fears about her new role and flung the door wide open, meeting Darcy’s gaze directly.
For a brief moment, she forgot that he lay in a bed from which he would not rise again, and she welcomed his look like a woman accustomed to admiration.
She smiled. “Good morning, Mr Darcy,” she said cheerfully, and in an instant, she was by his side. The physician was there, and observing the empty dishes on a nearby table, she saw that he had already eaten.
“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” he replied, and the simple exchange of words felt like a playful game between them.
Elizabeth immediately turned to the physician, who, with the help of the valet, was gathering the few instruments he had laid out on a small table. “Our patient is stable today. I have left a list of necessary actions. I shall return in the afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, escorting him to the door. When she turned back to Darcy, she was once again struck by his gaze—so intent, sweeping from her toes to her hair with such boldness that she instinctively clutched her robe to her chest.
“I must dress,” she whispered.
He responded with a slight shake of his head, silently indicating the armchair. The tension between them grew so palpable that she began to speak, simply to dispel it.
“I know nothing—not even how to summon Anna, my maid.”
He chuckled softly. “The bell-pull system to summon our servants rings in a room where someone is always present, day and night.” He pointed to the cord on the wall, conveniently placed near the bed. “When you pull it, Anna will come, and you may give her whatever orders you wish or ask her to fetch anyone you need. Anna is your valet now,” he added teasingly.
“At home, my mother is the bell-pull system—she shouts so loudly that everyone can hear, and most of the time, the sound of the bell cannot be discerned above the noise—” Elizabeth abruptly stopped, realising her mother had been one of the reasons for that dreadful proposal; she wished to add nothing further to her future husband’s awful image of Mrs Bennet.
He spoke gently, breaking the silence that reigned for a few moments between them, searching for her gaze to make her see his words were from his heart. “My dear, we agreed that the past no longer exists. And I find joy in whatever you share about your family.”
“For now, it is more important that I learn everything about your family,” she replied, her tone sterner than she intended—not due to him but to her mind feeling overwhelmed by all she needed to accomplish that morning when, truthfully, she wished only to remain there, in his room, with him, even in her somewhat shabby robe, so ill-suited to the elegance surrounding her.
“This morning, my aunt, Mrs Gardiner, the wife of my mother’s brother, will visit.”
“Very well,” he replied, and Elizabeth was confident he truly meant it. He was pleased that she was already organising her life within their household.
“Will you ask her to come again tomorrow…perhaps accompanied by your uncle as well?” he asked.
“Yes, if you wish them both to come.”
“Elizabeth, the decision is yours. I want you to be free to make whatever choices you like.”
“It is difficult. I feel lost in this immense house,” she murmured. “And in the fate you forced me to embrace,” she added, and her face reflected her apprehensions. Yet, a smile flourished at her last words, as that destiny, they both knew, was all she had ever secretly wanted.
“Nothing is difficult for Elizabeth Bennet, as I know her,” he replied with such confidence in his voice that she blushed with pleasure.
“And what if you are mistaken?”
“You have always accused me of arrogance. The confidence of an arrogant man in his decisions is boundless and unshakable,” he said, and once more, their eyes locked, an intensity enveloping them both.
They were interrupted by his valet, announcing the arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Elizabeth rose quickly and, to her delight, found Anna waiting for her.
“Parker sent me,” Anna explained, responding to her surprise. “Madam, I wanted to tell you how honoured I am to be your lady’s maid.”
“Dear Anna, I, too, am glad to have someone like you who will help me understand the affairs of this household in the days ahead. First, I need to address something very urgent. I require some clothes immediately and have no time for shopping.”
“Miss Darcy will assist you, madam, I am sure,” Anna suggested.
A discreet knock interrupted them. As though sensing that the conversation concerned her, Georgiana stepped into the room and carefully closed the door behind her.
“I have just seen Richard, and this morning, he seems so calm,” she said, her delight evident. “Before you arrived, we could not soothe him in any way. I do not think he has slept at all since…the accident. But last night, he finally rested.”
She looked around. “This is Mother’s room,” she said, and Elizabeth blushed, unsure how to interpret her words. Immediately, however, Georgiana noticed her embarrassment and embraced her warmly. “Goodness! Do not imagine it as a reproach. From tomorrow, you will be Mrs Darcy. This is your room. It is my memories that lend this tone to my voice. My mother died when I was six. At that time, I had not yet moved out of the nursery, which is situated directly across from this room. Some mornings, I would wake up in Mother’s bed because she would come to bring me here. Those were such happy times!”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to embrace Georgiana, offering solace for a grief rooted not only in the past but also in the dreadful present.
With a childlike gesture, Georgiana took her hand, and together, they dashed across the hall to her childhood room. It was unchanged, with a small canopy bed draped in pink curtains, and scattered around the room were her toys—dolls, a doll’s house that likely resembled Pemberley, a miniature set of nine-pins, and a horse on wheels, which Georgiana stroked with tenderness. “This was my favourite because Mama told me it was once Fitzwilliam’s,” she said.
They returned to Elizabeth’s room slightly invigorated, but upon their arrival, Elizabeth was once again seized by worry. To fret over her attire was unusual for her, and in their dramatic situation, it seemed trivial. Yet it was, in truth, much more than that. She simply wanted to be, in every possible way, a wife worthy of him at that strange but love-filled wedding he so earnestly desired.
Perhaps she had never lacked wit, but she had undoubtedly always lacked fashion. Now, however, she needed both.
“Do you want me to leave you to dress?” asked Georgiana, attempting to demonstrate that her vulnerability had passed.
Elizabeth, instead of answering, shook her head again, her unease becoming all the more apparent through the silence that settled between them.
“What is it?” Georgiana asked, still haunted by the fear that Elizabeth might change her mind. “You are not leaving, are you?”
“I am not leaving,” Elizabeth replied, somewhat reassured by Georgiana’s response, which showed she was welcome in this place. “But—”
She stopped again. They remained standing. Anna watched them, curious and pleased to be allowed to witness their conversation.
“Georgiana…I am utterly unprepared to assume this enormous role as Fitzwilliam’s wife—”
“You will learn. We are all here to support you.”
Elizabeth shook her head lightly. “It is not about what I must do. It is this.” She opened her arms wide, hoping Georgiana would understand. Her dressing gown, though her finest, was far from what the mistress of this grand house should wear.
“What?” Georgiana asked.
“Miss Bennet requires new clothes,” Anna ventured, emboldened, and both women turned towards her.
“Is it true?” Georgiana asked.
“It is,” Elizabeth admitted, blushing at the awkwardness of the situation. She had never placed much value on how she dressed. Yet, now she was acutely aware that she could not present herself as she had at Longbourn or Meryton, regardless of Mrs Gardiner’s improvements to her clothing.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Georgiana sighed in relief and immediately flung open the doors of an immense wardrobe that spanned nearly half the wall. “It is too late to make many arrangements before the wedding, as there is much to prepare, but afterwards, you may order anything you wish. We have a dressmaker whom all the ladies in our family use, and Emma, Anna’s sister, is our seamstress. She lives here. For now, you will find everything you need in Mother’s wardrobe, and Emma will make any alterations needed.”
“But these are your mother’s clothes!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Yes, but Mother embraced every new fashion the moment it appeared—low necks, high busts, short sleeves, high waists—dainty and effortlessly elegant. I am certain there are at least two dozen gowns for any occasion that can be adjusted to suit your preferences.”
Elizabeth hesitated once more.
“I do not wish you to feel offended by my offering you old garments. I assure you, Mother—”
Elizabeth interrupted with a small yet firm gesture. “It is not that. I have four sisters. In our household, it is rare for a piece of clothing not to be worn by more than one person…”
“Then?” Georgiana asked, puzzled, as she and Anna began removing gowns, pelisses, shawls, bonnets, and hats from the wardrobe. They even discovered several exquisite evening dresses, fine enough to be worn at a ball.
“Everything here is ours,” Georgiana said. “Yours.”
“And you?” Elizabeth asked. Anna smiled discreetly and replied, “Miss Darcy has a wardrobe larger than this one.”
“You can choose from mine too,” Georgiana cried. Still, Elizabeth declined with a smile. “There are enough clothes here to dress half of Meryton.”
After half an hour, Elizabeth gazed into the mirror, scarcely able to believe how perfectly one of the morning gowns suited her. It was crafted from fine-woven linen in a cream hue and fitted as though it had been made specifically for her. The gown was a little long, but even this detail delighted her, for she had always wished for dresses that entirely covered her shoes. Now, however, she realised this preference was no mere fashion whim but instead born of a fear that the age of her shoes might be noticed. But this, too, had been resolved, as Anna had suggested she select a pair from the many that filled the bottom shelves of the wardrobe. Although the ones she chose were slightly large, the ingenious young woman had quickly remedied the problem, and she was now watching her mistress with satisfaction.
With a shawl draped over her shoulders, Elizabeth reached Darcy’s door and knocked gently. She was greeted by such a startled exclamation of admiration that she cast him a reproachful look. The physician had expressly forbidden him from raising his voice.
“You look beautiful…but…from where—?” he began to ask, then stopped, a little worried. But Elizabeth laughed, for although he had frozen mid-sentence, she fully understood his puzzlement.
“You mean to say you immediately noticed that this exquisite gown and cashmere shawl did not come from my trunk.”
As he hesitated, unsure whether she might be upset with him for his misstep, Elizabeth continued, “Lady Anne saved me. Goodness, I hope you are not displeased that I dared—”
The expression on his face spoke before his words could. Far from being displeased, the man before her admired her, indifferent to the origins of her attire.
“It suits you beautifully…and, somehow, it feels like Mama is here with us.”
“It was Georgiana’s idea,” she said as a kind of exoneration.
“Oh, Georgiana,” he said indifferent to her worries. “I am so happy you are here and you will be her model in life.”
“She is already an accomplished young lady. You do not have to worry. I am in complete admiration of Georgiana,” Elizabeth said. “You described her as shy and diffident, shrinking from familiarity with others, yet I have discovered a lady remarkable in her strength and determination. Aside from the fact that she truly does not resemble you and is both modest and unaffected.” She laughed, looking at him, while he, amused, pulled a face at her words like a petulant child.
“I never thought you could make faces at me,” she remarked.
“You never thought many things about me—or rather, almost everything you thought was unfavourable,” Darcy replied. She fell silent, for it was true. Taking her hand, he continued, “Hard times strengthen character and can alter personality traits. Georgiana has endured two extreme trials in less than a year, each shaping her in its own way. Ramsgate stole the innocence that shrouds childhood, shielding one from the world's ugliness, but it also proved to her that she possesses the judgment to discern the honest path our parents wished us to follow. And…my accident…in an instant, reversed our roles.
“Georgiana awoke to find herself the mistress of the house, forced to make immediate and weighty decisions while maintaining her composure. I grieve for the timid girl she once was, yet I deeply admire this sixteen-year-old who has taken on such a formidable role and fulfilled it with grace. But I do not wish for her to bear the full burden, for I am not certain she would endure it. She needs someone. She needs you!”
He cleared his throat. “Go down and eat some breakfast,” he ordered her. Then, something unexpected by both of them happened. She leant down, kissed him lightly on the temple, then fled without looking back.
Yet she paused at the staircase, clutching her chest as a wave of pain momentarily overtook her. She could not bear the thought of going to breakfast without him, of leaving him behind, alone and undoubtedly melancholy. Resolving that she would share breakfast with him every morning in his room from then on, she steadied herself and continued down the stairs.
Entering the dining-room, she tried to mask her pain.
The colonel rose from his seat without a word and embraced her, then escorted her to the head of the table, where Georgiana had sat the night before. The intention was clear, silently declaring that Elizabeth would preside over the household from that moment on.
Elizabeth glanced at the young lady, now somewhat calmer, and smiled as a sign that she understood and accepted the message.