Decisions Read online

  It was not even two in the afternoon when the young couple said goodbye to their families. Mrs Darcy’s pale face was clearly visible in the window of the carriage as she was waving farewells at the disappearing group of wedding guests.

  Elizabeth Darcy stared out of the window as the vehicle moved steadily down the main street of Meryton. How long would it take before she could return here? Surely not sooner than next year or even longer.

  For the last six weeks, since Mr Darcy had so unexpectedly reappeared in her life, she had seen him rarely. During their short engagement, he preferred to reside in London, coming to Meryton for a day and sometimes even for a few hours. Elizabeth did not mind his reluctance to spend time in Hertfordshire. On the contrary, she rejoiced in the last days of her freedom. However, it had all come to an end. She was in the carriage with Mr Darcy on the first day of their future life together and there was no escape from it.

  Elizabeth turned her head to look at her husband. She attempted a smile. Although everything within screamed against it, she knew that she had to settle her relations with him, assuring both of them a peaceful coexistence.

  Darcy took her behaviour as an incentive. He moved to sit closer to her. He took her hand in his.

  Elizabeth locked her eyes with his. She did not look away. She sat still, allowing him to remove her glove and hold her hand within his. Very slowly, as if giving her a chance to stop him, he was leaning down. She felt his breath on her face and soon his lips touched hers. Her heart raced in her chest. She did not know how to react, thus she sat perfectly still.

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes. He did not seem angered with the lack of enthusiasm on her part.

  “You have never asked me of our exact plans for after the wedding,” he said.

  “Are we not going to Pemberley?” she asked. “I thought that I overhead Colonel Fitzwilliam discussing with you the plan of our journey north.”

  “My cousin and sister are going to Pemberley,” he clarified. “However, we are going to London. At least for the time being.”

  “London?”

  He nodded. “I though it to be a sound idea for us to be alone in those first weeks of our marriage. Moreover, you may be aware that winter in the north is much harsher than in the south. You shall need an entire new wardrobe. A few weeks in London will allow me to provide you with the right clothing.”

  “I had not thought about that,” she admitted. She looked down at her black dress. Kitty and her mother were already wearing mostly grey and violet dresses on a daily basis, but both she and Jane were still wearing black.

  She leaned back against the upholstered side of the carriage. She wished to close her eyes but she feared that he would think it rude. She had barely slept through the last couple of nights.

  “You should rest, my dearest,” Darcy said. “You must be tired.”

  Her eyelids dropping, Elizabeth watched Darcy cover her legs with a thick blanket. She sighed quietly and allowed herself to drift into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Four

  They reached London in time for dinner. Elizabeth stepped out of the carriage to stand in front of the elegant four-storey house. It was built of red brick, tall and handsome, imposing even, although certainly not the largest house in Grosvenor Square.

  “Shall we?” Darcy asked, placing a hand on the small of her back.

  They walked inside. A line of servants was awaiting them. Elizabeth did not expect that the staff of the townhouse would be that large. Darcy introduced her quickly to the housekeeper and the butler before he directed her towards a young woman dressed in a simple but stylish dress.

  “Mrs Darcy, it is Mrs Drew who shall be your maid.”

  Elizabeth smiled at the woman. For most of her life she had shared one maid with all her sisters. For the last weeks since they had left Longbourn there had been no maid at all. As a result, Elizabeth was quite adept at not only dressing herself but also pressing her own clothes and doing her hair as well as someone else’s. It would take some time for her to accustom herself to having her very own maid.

  Elizabeth followed the maid upstairs to the second floor where the bedrooms were located. They entered a spacious room with two tall windows and the bay window facing the small, narrow garden. She had to admit that the house appeared much larger inside than its outside would suggest.

  “Which dress will you wear for dinner, mistress?” the maid asked.

  Elizabeth stepped into the dressing room to see that her modest trunk was already there.

  “There is not much to choose from, I am afraid,” she said. “There is a black bombazine on the top. It should not be creased very much.”

  “That is not a problem.” Drew smiled widely. She opened the trunk and retrieved the needed piece of wardrobe. “I shall have it pressed this instant.”

  Drew left. Elizabeth breathed out. She was alone at last. Their journey was not long or troublesome and she slept through most of it, but she was still exhausted.

  Her mother had insisting on ordering a new dress for her on the occasion of her wedding. Elizabeth tried to protest, but Mrs Bennet was unshaken in her resolve. Elizabeth was of the opinion that it would have been far better to make new day dresses for her sisters instead of ordering a costly wedding gown for her.

  Elizabeth began to remove the shiny silk gown. The stays followed. Freed from the restrains of the corset, dressed only in her petticoats and chemise, she decided to refresh herself. Having washed her face, hands and teeth, she looked into the round mirror. She sighed at the frightful sight she saw there. In no way did she resemble a radiant bride. She had lost some weight in the last months, but for the last two weeks she could eat very little, much to her mother’s disapproval. Those ten pounds made a difference to her already small frame.

  Her face was ghostly pale, her eyes were swollen and shining almost feverishly. She sighed. She thought to hear the door opening. Drew must have already returned. Elizabeth found it difficult to believe that she had managed to finish ironing so quickly. Perhaps she had given the dress to one of the maids and was not doing it herself.

  She walked into the bedchamber to find Darcy standing there.

  “I knocked,” he said, his eyes unashamedly feasting on her bare arms and chest. The thin camisole barely covered her upper body, allowing her bosom to be presented to the man who was her husband in all its glory.

  “Excuse me,” she said, stepping back into the dressing room.

  There on the bottom of her trunk was her new robe. Elizabeth retrieved it and sighed miserably upon seeing this intricate lacy item which was almost entirely see-through. She threw it away and reached for a large woollen shawl which she wrapped tightly around herself.

  As she entered, she saw Darcy standing by the fireplace.

  “It is a handsome room,” she noted, joining him by the buzzing fire.

  He felt his eyes on her person. Was he disappointed with the change in her attire?

  “No changes were introduced here for many years,” he explained. “I do believe that my mother redecorated it in the early years of her marriage. It may require some refreshment.”

  “It is lovely,” Elizabeth assured him, her tone sincere. “Your mother had excellent taste.”

  She stared at the fire, enjoying the warmth radiating from it.

  She looked up when she felt his fingers touching her cheek.

  “You look lovely,” he complimented her.

  “Hardly,” she opposed, remembering the dark shadows under her eyes and her thin silhouette.

  He cupped her face and stepped forward. “Do not fear me.”

  “I do not,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “Shush, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he whispered. One of his arms encircled her, moulding her to his body.

  Elizabeth had never been in such close contact with a manly form.

  Still cupping her cheek, he pressed his lips firmly to hers. Elizabeth stood in the cage of his arms, feeling overwhelmed
, fearing what would happen with her in a moment.

  Quite suddenly he let go of her and stepped back. Elizabeth staggered slightly.

  Drew was in the room, black bombazine hanging over her shoulder.

  “I apologize for the intrusion,” she said. “I expected to find Mrs Darcy alone.”

  Darcy nodded at her in acknowledgement of her words. Drew stepped into the dressing room.

  “Dinner shall be served at eight,” Darcy said.

  “I understand.”

  “Drew will show you the way.”

  “Yes.”

  Darcy leaned down. Elizabeth stiffened slightly. He kissed her gently on the cheek. “I shall be waiting for you,” he said in a warm tone. Then, as if he could not stop himself, he kissed her lightly on the lips.

  She breathed in relief as he stepped back.

  She dropped on a nearby armchair when the door closed behind him. She had to prepare herself for what was to happen that night. According to her mother, intimate relations with a husband were nothing unbearable, but on the contrary, it could bring much joy and satisfaction to both parties. In a few hours she would have to offer her body to man who had every right to take it. She was well aware that it was part of their agreement. He was giving her family security and she in return was to fulfil all the duties of a wife.

  She closed her eyes. Tiredness overpowered her one more time.

  She heard the maid’s steps and clearing of the throat. She opened her eyes.

  “Yes, Drew?”

  “Can I arrange your hair, my lady? It is nearly a quarter to eight.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  The women walked to the dressing room. Elizabeth sat at the vanity, allowing Drew to remove all the pins and brush her long hair.

  ***

  At eight o’clock sharp Elizabeth entered the dining room. Darcy greeted her politely but with proper reserve. They were seated on opposite sides of the long table. The presence of two footmen who served them did not allow for lively conversation, at least in Elizabeth’s opinion.

  The dinner was delicious. Elizabeth regained some of her appetite, enjoying every dish.

  After dinner, they moved to sit in the drawing room. This time they were alone with no servant standing by the door.

  Elizabeth was drawn to the fireplace again. She sat in front of it.

  “Are you cold?” Darcy enquired.

  She looked up at him. He was holding two glasses filled with a red liquid. “I simply enjoy the fire, especially at this time of the year.”

  He handed her one glass. “It is wine,” he stated the obvious.

  “I rarely drank wine in the past. My father thought that it was unnecessary for me and my sisters.”

  Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of her father. She swallowed them and took a sip. “It is very good,” she said.

  “From the south of France,” he revealed.

  “Truly?”

  “My father bought quite a lot before it was still possible to import French wine freely.”

  As she drank the sweet wine, she could feel the warmth spreading through her body. Instantly she felt more alert.

  She stared at the fire. She knew that Darcy had a right to expect some more conversation from her, but she did not feel up to it. In the past, she would have questioned him, opposed him, even laughed at him, but she had not acted like her own self for a long time.

  “May I have some more?” she asked, handing him her empty glass.

  “Of course,” he said, returning with the refilled glass.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the glass from him.

  “You appear tired,” he observed.

  “I am,” she said, selecting not to inform him of her sleepless nights.

  “Do you wish to retire?”

  “It is still early,” she noted.

  “It was an emotional day.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think that we should retire.”

  She swallowed some more of the wine before putting the half-empty glass on the side table. It was time to pay for the new better life for her family, for Purvis Lodge and the new carriage at her mother’s disposal.

  She stood up to her feet. “I think that half an hour should be quite enough for me to prepare. I shall await for you upstairs.”

  “Of course, my love. I shall join you in half an hour,” he said, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece.

  Elizabeth moved past him and left the drawing room.

  ***

  On entering the bedroom, Elizabeth found Drew in the dressing room, clearly organizing her meagre belongings in the closet.

  “Mistress, I did not expect you quite so soon.”

  “Mr Darcy and I are rather tired after the journey,” she explained smoothly. “Could you please prepare the creamy lace gown with blue ribbons and matching robe?”

  The maid reached into the closet. She took out one of the nightgowns. “Is it this one?”

  “Yes, thank you, Drew. I will manage from now on. You may retire.”

  The maid could not hide her surprise. “Have I displeased you with something, mistress?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “On the contrary. I am simply quite capable of undressing myself for the night. We shall see each other in the morning.”

  “Very well, mistress. Good night.”

  “Good night to you too, Drew,” Elizabeth said, keeping a friendly smile plastered on her face.

  She was pleased to be left alone. She did not consider herself a good actress and she did not wish to reveal to the servant how very shaky she was.

  She removed her dress, petticoats and undergarments and washed herself rather thoroughly. Thankfully the water in the water basin was warm. Then she put on her nightgown and robe. She looked down at herself in the floor-length window. It was certainly not the type of gown which she would select for herself. Mrs Bennet had her own opinion how Elizabeth’s night clothing should present itself. She deprived her daughter of all her old cotton night shifts, ruthlessly replacing them with much more daring pieces.

  Elizabeth tightened the drawstring which kept the robe together, attempting to hide the view of her ample chest the best she could.

  She reached to her hair and removed the pins. Her long tresses fell down her shoulders. She reached for the hairbrush and ran it through the waves. Usually she would put it into a long braid to prevent it from tangling during the night, but she remembered her mother’s advice. Men enjoyed long hair let free and wild.

  She put the brush on the vanity and looked at herself. Her eyes were wide and alert. She put most of her hair over her front to cover herself. That was much better. At least now her naked skin was not peeking through the material.

  She heard a knock on the door. Could it be Darcy? It was too soon.

  “Elizabeth,” she heard his voice and steps.

  “Please wait a moment, I will join you shortly.”

  She looked at herself in the mirror once again. She found her rose water and touched it behind her ears and on her wrists. She smoothed down her gown.

  She straightened her shoulders and walked out of the dressing room and into the bedchamber.

  He was dressed only in a white shirt and trousers. She had never seen him so informally dressed.

  He was standing by the fireplace. She joined him there. She could feel his gaze on her as she was approaching him. She lacked the courage to meet his gaze.

  As she stood in front of him, she noticed that she had forgotten her slippers. Thankfully her gown was long enough to hide her bare feet.

  She felt his hand on her cheek. She bravely looked up.

  He was stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She was anxious about what was about to happen. Although his touch was far from unpleasant, she could not enjoy it. Her heart was racing so much that she could hear its beating. Her mother’s instructions which Elizabeth had received on the eve of her wedding day were running through her head: ‘Be receptive, welcome his touch, show him your enjoym
ent, do not be afraid, follow his lead’. Elizabeth thought to have a good understanding of the mechanics of lovemaking. Her father never forbid her from reading any books from his library, and some of them were quite enlightening. Nevertheless, there was always a vast difference between practise and theory. She could hardly name herself an expert on the subject.

  He dropped his hand from her face and took a step back.

  “Shall we sit down?”

  She looked over at the bed.

  He led her to the sofa situated on the opposite side of the room.

  “Sit down, please, you are shaking all over.”

  Was she truly trembling? She did as she was asked to and sat down, placing her hands on her lap.

  He sat next to her and took her hand between both of his as he had many times before. He kissed her cold fingers.

  “I wish you to understand me well, Elizabeth. I have never forced myself on a woman and it is not my intention to begin my marriage with such an act.”

  “You are within your rights.”

  “I know what my rights are and you certainly did not help to rein my desire for you with that attire, but above all I wish you to come to me willingly.”

  Elizabeth stared into his dark eyes. Did she understand him right?

  “You are very kind, sir. Very noble,” she spoke with sincerity.

  He laughed shortly, shaking his head. “I am not. I forced you into this. I knew your opinion of me but I decided to use your reduced circumstances against you. Were I kind and noble as you say, I would respect your wishes and I would stay away from you. I would find a way to help you and your family in secret from a distance. I was selfish, though. I wanted you for myself.” She felt him giving a gentle squeeze to her hand imprisoned in both of his. “I do hope that with time and familiarity, once you know me better, you shall come to me willingly and of your own desire.”

  He leaned forward. She stiffened instantly. “Easy,” he whispered. “I only wish to kiss you.” He touched his lips to hers. Elizabeth tried to relax and be more welcoming, but it was difficult. She still could not believe her good luck. He was going to leave her alone. He pulled back.

  “Have a good night, my love, sleep well.” He kissed her forehead.