Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 (24 page)

Elizabeth opened the door of her bedroom and let out a gasp of delight. It was the first time she had seen the room, for she had refreshed herself after her journey in a small downstairs cloakroom which had been set aside for the visitors’ convenience. But now that she saw it, her eyes opened wide. It was like fairyland! A four poster bed was set in the centre of the room and it was hung with delicate gauzy drapes which fluttered in the breeze. The window was open, showing the beauty of the park, and the scent of roses was carried on the breeze.

Gilded rococo furniture was tastefully arranged around the room. It consisted of wardrobes, elegant chests of drawers, a
chaise longue
, a pretty writing table – in fact, everything anyone could desire.

The carpet was woven with the pattern of an urn, from which spilled flowers in delicate shades of pink, lemon and blue.

But it was her clothes that attracted her attention: not because they were new to her – they were not – but because they were laid out on the bed in the most delectable way.

At home, the Bennets had managed without a full complement of servants as they had not been wealthy. Elizabeth had never had a lady’s maid, nor had Jane. Nor, even, had Mrs Bennet. Hill, the housekeeper, had attended to the ladies and laced their corsets, and if she had not been available they had helped each other. They had chosen their own clothes for special occasions and taken them out of the wardrobe as they dressed.

But here, her clothes were laid out artistically, almost as if they had been in a painting. Her muslin gown was laid at the foot of the bed and next to it was set her petticoat and light corset. Her long, white evening gloves were arranged next to the petticoat and her feathered headdress completed the grouping.

Elizabeth herself had felt that a feathered headdress was too ostentatious, but her aunt had advised it, saying that it would not look ostentatious in the splendid setting of Pemberley. And Mrs Gardiner was right. Here it looked natural.

From the adjoining room next to the bedroom came the sound of water being poured into a bath. Elizabeth went in and saw two maids pouring jugs of water into a hip bath. They were being overseen by a lady’s maid, whose position was shown by her different mode of dress. She wore no apron and her dress was closer to the style of dress worn by a lady than a housemaid.

The lady’s maid clapped her hands and the maids poured the last of the water into the bath before dropping respectful curtseys and departing.

The delicious scent of roses wafted from the steam, and Elizabeth saw that rose petals floated on the water. Feeling like a princess in a fairy tale, she set about the pleasurable task of bathing and dressing for dinner.

Mr Darcy, dressing for dinner in his own room, was far less satisfied with life. As his valet helped him into his white shirt he wished he had never invited Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Pemberley. She had a personality that was entirely new to him. She was sometimes impertinent, sometimes challenging, sometimes teasing . . . and always unpredictable and interesting.

He had never met anyone like her before. Just as he thought he had discerned her character, and had decided how best to deal with her, she changed, and he had to work her out all over again.

Or try to. Because Miss Elizabeth Bennet was someone he could not understand.

Did she approve of his engagement to her sister, or did she not? Did she think Jane was lucky, or did she not? Did she like Pemberley or did she not? Did she like him, or did she not?

His valet handed him his cravat and Mr Darcy wrapped the white cloth around his neck. He arranged it into an intricate set of folds with practised hands. Then he pinned it with a diamond tie pin.

It did not matter, of course, whether Miss Elizabeth liked Pemberley or not. And it certainly did not matter if she liked him or not. She was of an age to be married and he meant to make it his duty to see to it that she was quickly wed. He did not want her living at Pemberley for any longer than was absolutely necessary. Her presence unsettled him, and that was not what he wanted for his future. He wanted a calm and well ordered life with his sister and his wife.

The kind of life he would have with Jane.

Jane was not unpredictable. He did not have any difficulty in understanding her. She was marrying him because she respected him; because she was tired of the burdens she carried and because it was a good match. She did not love him, but then neither did he love her. They could each provide the other with something they needed, and the marriage would be happy because of it. And in time, who could say? Perhaps love would grow.

But the idea of living at Pemberley with Jane and starting his well-ordered married life with Miss Elizabeth there . . . He shook his head. He could not do it.

So he decided that, when they returned to Hertfordshire, he would introduce Miss Elizabeth to Bingley
at once
. If he left it any longer, he feared he would not have the strength to do it, for the thought of Elizabeth married to another man filled him with despair.

Unaware of Mr Darcy’s plans for her, Elizabeth stepped out of her bath and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel. She dried herself thoroughly and then went through into the bedroom, where she put on her underwear and then slipped on her white muslin gown.

At home, the gown had seemed pretty. Here, it seemed shabby. She was conscious of the fact that it was mended round the hem, where Lydia had stepped on it, and that there was a small mark on the skirt, where candle wax had dropped on it. She had tried to remove the stain, but to no avail.

Both imperfections were very small, but here they seemed magnified.

Sadly, there was nothing she could do about it. She was only glad that she had taken her aunt’s advice and brought a feathered headdress, for it would draw attention away from her gown.

The lady’s maid was very attentive. She knew exactly how tight to lace Elizabeth’s corset and she arranged Elizabeth’s hair in a new and becoming fashion. She parted it several times going across the crown of Elizabeth’s head, and then smoothed each section before creating a low bun at the nape of Elizabeth’s neck. She then attached the feathered headdress with hair pins and the overall result was extremely elegant.

‘Thank you,’ said Elizabeth.

The maid curtseyed respectfully, then handed Elizabeth her gloves.

Elizabeth put on the gloves, smoothing them over her elbows, and then picked up her fan.

She was ready.

She went along the corridor and went into Jane’s room. She found her sister already dressed, wearing a very becoming silk gown. It had a high waist and short, puffed sleeves trimmed with white ribbon. Her hair was dressed in a bun, which was pulled back from her face and softened by ringlets across her forehead. Like Elizabeth, she wore long white evening gloves and she held her fan. She looked very beautiful, but although she was standing in front of the cheval glass, she was not looking at herself. Instead, her eyes were focussed on some distant point.

‘Are you rested now after the journey?’ asked Elizabeth.

Jane had never been as robust as Elizabeth.

‘Yes,’ said Jane, giving her attention to Elizabeth. ‘Did you enjoy your tour of Pemberley?’

‘Yes, or at least the little I saw of it. It will take a lot longer to see everything, but it is a very fine house.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Jane.

No stranger would have detected anything unusual in Jane’s voice, but Elizabeth knew her sister well and said, ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ said Jane. ‘It is just that Pemberley is far grander than I was imagining.’

‘But you knew it was a great house?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Yes, I did, but I imagined something more like Netherfield Park – something larger than Longbourn, but nothing like this.’ She looked around the room, which was even grander than Elizabeth’s. ‘This is more like a palace. However, I am sure I will accustom myself to it by and by.’

‘You will,’ said Elizabeth with a smile. ‘Before very long, you will love it as much as I do. It is a beautiful house. The dining-parlour, the sitting room, the gardens . . . everything is exactly as one would wish it.’

‘I only hope . . . ’

‘Yes?’ said Elizabeth.

‘I only hope I will do it justice,’ said Jane. ‘Mr Darcy requires a hostess and I hope I will not disappoint him.’

‘My dear Jane, you could never disappoint anyone,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Mr Darcy is very lucky to have you. You grace Pemberley with your presence.’

‘Oh, Lizzy!’ said Jane with a smile.

‘It is true,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You will soon accustom yourself to the grandeur and then you will find yourself looking forward to your new life here, without any feelings of being overwhelmed.’

‘You are right, dear Lizzy. What would I do without you?’

‘You will not have to do without me.’

‘No, and for that I am grateful. It is a comfort to me because there will be a lot to organise once I am the wife of Mr Darcy.’

Elizabeth realised that Jane was intimidated by the thought of taking up such a prestigious position. She wished she could give some of her own energy and confidence to Jane, because she was not intimidated by it. In fact, she thought the public life of Mrs Darcy would be very interesting and agreeable.

‘You will not have to do anything you don’t want to do,’ she reminded Jane. ‘Remember, there are plenty of servants at Pemberley. You can leave the running of it to the housekeeper if you wish.’

‘I feel I would be neglecting my duty if I did so,’ said Jane.

‘You will be the mistress of Pemberley. It will be up to you to decide what your duties are, not up to the housekeeper,’ said Elizabeth.

Jane smiled, but the smile was somewhat apprehensive.

‘You have not told me everything,’ said Elizabeth, fixing Jane with a searching eye. ‘There is no use denying it, I can tell. Something else is worrying you.’

‘It is nothing,’ said Jane, looking down at her hands.

‘Then, if it is nothing, you will not mind telling me!’ Elizabeth teased her.

Jane gave a genuine smile.

‘Oh, Lizzy, I am so glad you are here with me! I am only being foolish, I know, but I went to speak to my aunt a little while ago, and when I came back to my room, the maids were unpacking my bags and I overheard them talking. One of them held up my petticoat and said, “It’s mended.” There was such a tone of horror in her voice that I felt as if I had let her down, and let Mr Darcy down, and let Pemberley down. I felt like a beggar, as if I didn’t belong here. I felt like an intruder.’

‘Oh, Jane,’ said Elizabeth, giving her a hug. ‘You cannot let the servants worry you. Besides, mended petticoats will be a thing of the past when you marry Mr Darcy. You will have the finest clothes that money can buy.’

‘You are right, of course,’ said Jane, returning her hug. ‘I am just feeling overwhelmed at the moment. But I will soon get used to everything.’

‘You will,’ said Elizabeth reassuringly.

Together the two young ladies went downstairs.

To Elizabeth’s surprise, there was a newcomer in the drawing-room, where the party assembled. Mr Darcy introduced him as, ‘My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.’

Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed and the ladies curtseyed.

‘And this is the Rev Mr Wilson,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘He has one of the Pemberley livings.’

Elizabeth was surprised.
One
of the Pemberley livings. An estate needed to be large to have any church livings in its gift, yet Mr Darcy had more than one. She began to realise that there must be many calls on his time indeed, for he not only had to deal with all the other estate business, but he had to appoint suitable clergymen as well.

The gentlemen offered the ladies their arms and together they went in to dinner.

Elizabeth found herself seated with Colonel Fitzwilliam on her left and Mr Wilson on her right. She began by talking to Mr Wilson and, to her surprise, the conversation naturally turned to a topic of great interest to her. She was pleased that she would not have to ask the housekeeper about the steward’s son, for Mr Wilson’s conversation turned in that direction. When talking about his living, he said that he was indebted to Mr Darcy for nominating him as a suitable candidate, and that because of Mr Darcy’s kindness –
kindness again
, thought Elizabeth - he was now able to follow his calling of preaching and caring for the souls of his parishioners, while at the same time earning a good income from the valuable living.

‘I had no idea Mr Darcy would nominate me,’ he said. ‘We all thought the living would go to . . . ’ He lowered his voice. ‘ . . . a friend of the family.’

Elizabeth looked at him enquiringly.

‘His name is never spoken of in this house but he was the son of the late Mr Darcy’s steward. The late Mr Darcy gave him every advantage, paying for him to go to school and university because he intended him to make a career in the church. The wealthiest living on the estate was held for him until he should be old enough for it. But then . . . ’

He stopped, as if realising he had been indiscreet.