Her Voice of Reason Page 7

  Her relations with her husband were polite and proper. They had not quarrelled since their return from London. Elizabeth devoted much time to learning her new duties as well as discovering the beauty of Pemberley and forming a good relation with Georgiana, Darcy’s sister. Elizabeth expected her to be proud and conceited as Mr. Wickham had suggested. Georgiana proved to be nothing as he described her. She was painfully shy and uncertain of herself. Her kindness and good heart were genuine, though, Elizabeth had no doubt about that. Moreover, she was an excellent musician, painter, and she was very well read. Georgiana Darcy epitomized what a young accomplished woman should be with the addition of excellent family connections and a large dowry.

  As for her husband, Elizabeth managed to spend most of her day away from him, and it was not by some special design. Darcy was a hard worker. He was not a man of leisure. Pemberley owed its prosperity to his constant care and effort. Longbourn might also be a blooming estate if only her father had showed half the interest in it that Darcy had.

  He shared her bed every night and she never refused him herself if he wished for her, apart from a week when her monthly courses had come. The pain which she had experienced the first night was a long time gone. Her husband was gentle but also rather demanding, always requiring her engagement in the act. Every time it was becoming more and more difficult to stay indifferent to him. He did not allow her to look away from him, and he was very pleased with himself when she moaned her pleasure into his neck or scraped his back with her nails. She always tried to hide her reaction, but there were moments when she was incapable of doing so.

  Darcy had a hearty appetite, but his frame, though strong and tall, had no ounce of fat. She was surprised to discover that not only he rode his horse daily, but also fenced twice a week with a son of their closest neighbours. Elizabeth had never seen a true fencing match and asked Darcy to watch. At first he was reluctant to allow her but after some insistence on her part he agreed. She sat in the corner of the ballroom and with fascinated eyes watched her husband battling the younger man. He was quite formidable.

  Although he spent every night in her bed, which was not the custom in most marriages, not always he reached for her. On the days when he rode for hours or fenced he was so tired that he merely kissed her goodnight before falling asleep with his arm hooked around her.

  Elizabeth found herself looking forward to the days when she knew that he would not be overly exhausted. She had never asked for his attention openly, but she feared that he could read in her eyes when she wished for it.

  For instance, last night Darcy had ridden to Matlock to see the new carriage which he had ordered there. On his return, which was quite late in the day, he greeted Elizabeth and Georgiana warmly but refused to join them in the drawing room. He had both his bath and dinner in their rooms upstairs before tiredly climbing into the bed. Elizabeth lay down by his side, mindful not to disturb him, but he opened his eyes and looked at her. There must have been something in her expression which invited him, because he pulled her to him, kissing her. He had been abrupt, which she did not mind at all. It was his usual custom to touch and caress her for a long time beforehand, but yesterday he had been much more direct. Even now Elizabeth had found herself blushing on remembering how he decidedly opened her legs and moved over her. No, she did not mind at all...

  She exclaimed softly, feeling someone’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Calm down, my love, it is only I.” She heard the familiar voice before long, strong legs in light-coloured breeches and tall boots stretched next to her. “I called your name but you did not hear me.”

  Elizabeth turned her head, looking up at her handsome husband. “I was lost in thoughts.”

  He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Is there something troubling you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. For a short moment she had an urgent wish to confess her secret to him. Jane’s last letters were optimistic, and Elizabeth began to hope that her father’s life was not in danger. Nevertheless, she had lied to Darcy on accepting his marriage proposal. She had married him for security, thinking that he was proud, hateful, and a rude man, even cruel. What was her opinion of him now?

  He was proud for certain, but now she could understand the source of it. Was he hateful and rude? She had observed him carefully for the last weeks. He was a good brother and a good employer. He was a fair master. He cared for the tenants and their families. People respected him and trusted his judgement.

  She had to admit that he was a good husband. His treatment of her resembled more the way Uncle Gardiner acted towards Aunt Madeline, certainly not the way her father ridiculed and laughed at Mrs. Bennet. He was calm and kind in his approach, mindful of her needs, guessing her every wish. He trusted her judgement, discussed his doubts and problems with her, listened to her opinions—not always agreeing with them, but always asking of her view of the given matter.

  He was not only generous towards her and Georgiana but also to other people. She found it more and more difficult to believe Mr. Wickham’s story of how Darcy had harmed him. She had tried to ask Mrs. Reynolds about Wickham one time but the housekeeper was tight lipped, she said only that this young man should not be trusted.

  The one matter which Elizabeth could not understand or justify in her husband’s behaviour was the way Darcy had acted towards Jane. Separating Jane from Mr. Bingley was something she would not be able to forgive or forget easily, perhaps never.

  There were some yet unresolved plans for Mr. Bingley to visit Pemberley by the end of the summer. Elizabeth was undecided what to think of Darcy’s friend now, even though in the past she had enjoyed his company greatly and could not think of a better husband for her beloved sister. Jane was of opinion that Mr. Bingley would be engaged to Miss Darcy in the future, but Elizabeth doubted that. Georgiana rarely mentioned Mr. Bingley and never showed any romantic interest in his person. Darcy never even spoke about the possibility of his sister’s marriage to anyone, seeing her as too young and still not much more than a child.

  Darcy’s dark head bent down to kiss her neck, bringing her attention to the present moment. His fingers reached to the bow at her chin, loosening it, pushing the wide-brimmed bonnet back from her head.

  “I have never loved you in daylight and outside our bedroom,” he murmured into her ear.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she gasped, truly shocked at such a suggestion on his part as his fingers grazed the front of her spencer.

  “You wish for it now and you wished for it last evening.”

  She turned her head away from him but did not stop him when he opened her spencer, pushing the short jacket down her arms.

  “Someone may see us,” she protested feebly, already lying down under his weight.

  “We are safe, everyone works in the fields at this hour, and the grass is tall enough to hide us.”

  He kissed her uncovered breast as his hand disappeared beneath her petticoats. Elizabeth moaned and pressed herself against his seeking hand. She was weak and pathetic. She should not enjoy it. On marrying him she had promised herself that she would keep her distance, that she would stay indifferent, that she would hate him. A mere few weeks after their wedding her resolve was gone. She was so much happier here with him than she ever expected to be as Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  “You are different than I expected you to be,” he said some time later as they rested, waiting for their heartbeat to stop racing.

  Elizabeth’s fisted hand tugged gently at the sparse hair on his chest. “You are not happy?”

  He laughed quietly. “Most happy, you cannot doubt that.” His spread hand ran down her naked back, bringing her closer to him.

  “Nevertheless, I thought that you would be more argumentative,” he observed with good humour.

  “You expected that I would argue with you more? We argued once in London over the Gardiners,” she reminded him.

  “I remember. You are not afraid to voice your opinion to me and I enjoy it, but
I expected that you would tease me more the way you did when we met the first time and later in Kent. You are very proper and polite, which is to be expected in front of the strangers or servants, but you behave the same when we are in private.”

  Elizabeth moved away from his embrace, sitting up. She pulled up her chemise and reached for her stays abandoned in the grass nearby.

  “It is different now. I am not insolent Miss Bennet anymore.”

  He sighed heavily and with the corner of her eye she saw him reaching for his own discarded clothing. “Allow me to explain it more clearly. You attempt to create distance between us, even in bed. I do not understand why. It is unnecessary and unwanted. I married you because you were different than women I had known before. You were passionate and so very lively I could not help to be drawn to you. Now, many times when you think that I am not looking you are sad and forlorn.”

  Elizabeth secured her stays and pulled her dress back in place. She was battling with a long line of buttons at the back before surrounding.

  “Help me,” she said, turning with her back to him.

  Patiently he dealt with the small buttons. She was silent when he spoke further. “Do not hide yourself from me.”

  She bent down to pick her spencer, bonnet and gloves. She only put back her hat; it was too warm for the other articles of clothing. She avoided his eyes.

  “Look at me,” he said slowly but evenly, placing his finger under her chin. “I will not be fooled, Elizabeth. There is something you keep away from me. I do not wish any barriers between us.”

  Her eyes narrowed angrily and she stepped away from him. “What about matters that you keep away from me? Were you always honest with me?”

  “I was. I told you about my doubts and concerns when I proposed to you.”

  “How very generous of you,” she spat with barely restrained anger.

  He tried to touch her, but she stayed out of his reach. “My love, I beg you...”

  “Am I not entitled to privacy?” she cried out. “My thoughts are my own. Am I not pleasing you? Do I neglect my duties as the mistress of Pemberley? Do I not spend time with your sister? Do I not allow you to touch me every night as if my body belonged to you and was not my own anymore? It was not you who had to leave your life, your family, your beloved sister and move away from them to the other part of the country to live among strangers.”

  “Elizabeth, truly, I always thought that you escaped Longbourn and your family with great relief. You must have been ashamed of them so many times.”

  “I was ashamed,” she concurred. “But I love and miss them.”

  She felt his gaze on her, but he said nothing more. He put his arm over her shoulders and slowly led her down the hill. They did not speak more of it, for which Elizabeth was grateful. She expected that Darcy would return to this conversation sooner rather than later. He was not a man who rested matters easily once something piqued his interest.

  Chapter Eight

  Elizabeth was in her private sitting room next to her bedroom, eating breakfast. The entire apartment which she and Darcy occupied consisted of four rooms. There were two large bedrooms with a smaller sitting room between them and a narrow one-window room which served as Elizabeth’s dressing room. Darcy used his bedroom only for changing his clothes, as he always slept in his wife’s bed. Elizabeth was aware that it was uncommon, but Darcy was not a person who cared what others thought of him, especially when he was convinced of the matter.

  She had woken up early, leaving her husband sleeping, the curtains closed around the bed. She was already dressed for the day in a comfortable day dress and sturdy shoes, her long hair pinned up in a sensible way so as not to bother her later. She had a busy day ahead of herself.

  When the door opened she expected Peters to appear, or one of the housemaids, but it was Darcy. He was still in his nightshirt, but he had put on a robe. His hair was in disarray and his face well rested, looking young and a bit puffy from long sleep.

  “Good morning,” he greeted her, bending down to kiss the crown of her head. “You are up early,” he observed, taking a seat next to her.

  Elizabeth explained to him that she wished to go to the village hospital as well as to visit a few tenant families. She busied herself with pouring his tea and fixing his plate with his favourites. She had noticed early in their marriage that he liked when she took care of him in this way, paying attention to his needs, likes and dislikes.

  “You are visiting the hospital again?” he asked after swallowing a crispy bit of bacon. “Were you not there two days ago?”

  “I was. There are several sick children there. During the harvest their parents have little time to see them. I promised to bring them a basket with goods and read stories to them.”

  “It is not your duty to see to the hospital’s needs. Coleman should not burden you with this. I pay him enough to take care of matters there. You have enough on your hands here.”

  Elizabeth looked up from her tea, quite surprised at his abrupt tone. Mr. Coleman was a physician employed by Darcy in the village hospital. Her husband always spoke very highly of him, as he had previously trained as a physician in Edinburgh. Mr. Coleman’s father was Irish but his mother Scottish, and he had a heavy accent which he did not hide and which Elizabeth very much enjoyed to listen to. Darcy spoke to her a few times how lucky they were to have such an excellent physician in the village. Mr. Coleman lost his wife during childbirth while his daughter was born stillborn. It was the reason for which he wished to leave the town and agreed to work in the small village in northern Derbyshire.

  “Your mother founded the hospital, and I thought that I should continue supporting it as the new Mrs. Darcy,” she said, casting him an unsure look. Longbourn was too small to fund the free hospital for the village, thus she had no experience in such matters, but she had always imagined that showing her interest in it was one of her obligations as the mistress.

  His eyes softened and he smiled at her. “As I said, you have enough duties here, and I appreciate your concern but you are not expected to sit at the hospital for hours every day.”

  “I have already promised the children that I would come today.”

  “Do not feel obligated to stay there too long. Your husband needs you at home,” he reminded, smiling again at her, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

  Elizabeth took a bite of the delicious sandwich, a thought crossing her mind that Darcy might be jealous of the young physician working at the hospital. Quickly, she rejected such a possibility. She would rather believe that he wished for her to spend more time with him alone, which was still something she avoided to do.

  “After the hospital I am visiting two tenants families,” she reminded him. He looked so sleepy on entering the room that she was not certain if he had heard her when she mentioned it before.

  “Who?”

  “The Hensons and Miles. Mrs. Miles is about to have her fifth child and I have some clothes for the little one. The younger Henson boy is hungry for books, and I got some for him in Lambton.”

  “I do not like you going to the Miles’ again. Miles is a drunkard.”

  “He has not been drinking for many months now.”

  “His wife may claim it to be truth, but I do not believe it.”

  “I have never even seen him.”

  “It is no wonder. He spends most of his time in Lambton in the public house instead of working at the farm. I am considering terminating his lease.”

  “What would happen with his family?” Elizabeth fretted. “All those little ones?”

  “They are half starving already. He had barely paid the rent for the last year. I have given him too many chances already only because of his wife. She is a good woman. She was a fool to marry him.”

  Elizabeth felt sorry for Mrs. Miles and her children. At such moments she found her troubles silly. She might have married for the wrong reasons, but her husband took good care of her. He would have never mistreated her, or would he? If h
e learned about why she had truly accepted him?

  “I will be busy in the study for most of the day,” Darcy informed. “I must write responses to several letters. The footman and the maid will accompany you.”

  Elizabeth disliked going everywhere with such a large entourage, but Darcy deemed it to be necessary. She thought that the coachman would be quite enough as company, but she knew from experience that he was particularly obstinate on that matter.

  ***

  Elizabeth approached the shabby-looking house, carrying the bag full of clothing. Peters stepped after her with a large basket filled with the Pemberley pantry’s best. The front door was closed but even through the solid wood she could hear raised voices.

  “We should leave the baskets here and leave,” the maid offered her opinion.

  Elizabeth knocked at the door though, and soon enough Mrs. Miles opened it. Her face was stricken with tears, her pretty pale blonde hair in disarray. To her skirt clung a little girl with scared face and hungry eyes. Elizabeth’s heart tightened at the sight.

  “Mrs. Darcy,” the woman greeted her, glancing apprehensively behind her. “It is not the best time...”

  She did not finish because a large man came to stand behind her. He was more broad than tall but for certain he was not sober.

  “I can certainly see that it is not the best time,” Elizabeth said, glancing at the man with ill-disguised loathing. She passed the bag that she was holding to Mrs. Miles, before taking the basket with food from Peters, and putting it by the little girl’s bare feet.

  “I shall come another day,” she promised, before sending a smile to the frightened woman.