Summer at Pemberley

a Jane Austen fan fiction

by Lucy

 

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A Place of Safe Respite

 

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Darcy drew open the curtain and let the half-moon's light permeate the room. Its silvery hue reached into the deep recesses of the candlelight's shadow and each light reflected off the crisp white linens where Elizabeth lay, giving to the bedchamber an air of resolute intimacy. Silently he came to the bed, sat down and indulged in the sight of Elizabeth in repose: her eyes closed, her hair free from manipulation and spread upon the pillow, her gown gossamer, her bosom rising and falling in a peaceful, even tempo. The first time he had seen her thus he thought her perfection and he had laid awake watching how her lips slightly parted in her sleep and how every hint of her waking playful impertinence gave way to a kind of ethereal softness. Now she might be with child she seemed to him somehow lovelier still. He let his gaze wander from her face down her body until it came to rest upon her abdomen. Lifting his hand he placed it gently thereupon and spread his fingers wide as though to detect some new tautness or increase that might verify his child was within, as though to bestow protection upon the same.

 

Thus captivated he did not see Elizabeth open her eyes. She watched him in silence. In the silvery light she could see the corners of his mouth slightly, hesitatingly lifted, as though not wishing to believe, but hoping to know. She had never seen upon his mien such an expression of soft innocence. It was incongruent with the strong and vigorous figure so barely covered before her. As she surreptitiously watched him that wondrous desire to touch him and to be touched by him that still, after so many months, surprised her for its intensity, spread through her with the efficacy of a well-fed flame. She placed her hand atop his, where it still moved gingerly upon her abdomen, and she saw his small hesitant smile grown into that full and beautiful expression of contentment he so rarely allowed the world to see, but which, in the privacy of their rooms, was given to her freely and consistently.

 

"I ought to have waited until I was completely sure," she said quietly. "I see such tender anticipation in you and I would not wish you to suffer a disappointment if it is not to be."

 

Darcy lifted his eyes to her own. Looking into those orbs, black as coal and of infinite depth, Elizabeth felt as though his entire soul was given over to her care, and the beauty of what she saw left her rapt.

 

"Whatever it should be, I am grateful for your impatience, Elizabeth. I wish to share with you this anticipation and hope." Elizabeth found she could only smile at his words. "In any case," he continued, "I have no doubts that our wish has been granted."

 

"No doubts? I believe, my love, this is one situation which you cannot command," she replied playfully.

 

Laughing softly, Darcy removed from his sitting position and lay himself at her side. Resting upon his elbow, he lifted his hand and traced the contours of her face with his fingertips, letting them linger upon the softness of her lips. "You misapprehend my meaning. I am not so conceited as to believe I could command such a blessing, but I can observe. Is it not said that when a woman is with child she grows more lovely, that with the life she carries she glows with added beauty? Then it must be as we wish, for at this moment you are more beautiful than I have ever seen you."

 

Elizabeth colored as deeply as if it were the first time she had heard such words and in such intimacy. Taking his hand into her own she insisted delicately: "We must not allow ourselves to be so confident. It may yet not be." He made no response, but continued to gaze upon her face with the captivated and warm expression that never failed to stir her senses. "Fitzwilliam," whispered she.

 

Hearing his name in that delicious purr that was so uniquely hers, he felt a slow moving wave of desire. Tenderly he brought her into his arms, brought his lips close to her own and spoke softly. "Elizabeth, my precious. Do you not sometimes find words absolutely inadequate?" She quietly nodded her head in agreement. "If I were a poet I could perhaps compose a pretty verse to tell you all that is in my heart. But in truth, it is better that I am not. For I cannot love you as a poet would, with the forlorn passivity of the mind; I can only love you as a man, with the entirety of my soul and with all the passions of my body."

 

Yet some few words did come, treading lightly as a midnight wanderer, and with each word his voice grew softer and deeper; their lips caressed as they spoke and their breaths united; their eyes fell shut and they could feel desire wrapping around them like a blanket in winter.

 

"You understand me."

 

"I do."

 

"Let me lay myself bare before you then, let me show you all that you are to me, all that I feel."

 

"Show me, Fitzwilliam, yes, that I might do the same."

 

"Elizabeth, my own, dearest Elizabeth."

 

Their lips came together and he drew her tightly against his body taking heartily of her mouth and they sighed and trembled with unguarded delight; feeling her soft and warm and welcoming he sank into her embrace finding within it again the sanctuary he had not known he required until the first time he had been in the generous custody of her arms. Making love with patient and liberal devotion, they did not perceive the coming of dawn and as they fell into a deep sleep it would be perhaps futile to question whose heart kept the greater share of pleasure: Darcy's for the gratifying weight of his wife's head upon his shoulder, or hers for such a place of safe respite.

 

In such peaceful slumber they rested, but it was not to be long enjoyed. Heavy pounding at Darcy's dressing room door abruptly awakened them not long after they had fallen into sleep.

 

"What the devil?" Darcy cursed groggily. "I shall return momentarily," he whispered to Elizabeth as he rose from the bed, wrapped his robe about himself and exited into his dressing room.

 

Elizabeth could hear only the murmuring of Darcy's voice and that of his valet, as well as some ill defined shuffling sounds. Presently, Darcy returned to the bedchamber fully if hastily clothed, his gray coat indicating that he intended on going out of doors.

 

"Fitzwilliam, whatever has occurred?"

 

"An estate matter of some urgency has arisen, Elizabeth. Do not concern yourself, all is in hand and will be well, but I must see to this." With a hurried kiss upon her forehead she was witness to the flow of his gray coat as he walked briskly and purposefully out of their chambers.

 

Unable to sleep, Elizabeth rose and dressed at first light. She could not find that the servants knew any more than she. "The master's men came in a veritable rush, madam, and left the house with Mr. Darcy as quickly as they entered. I do not know to where they went," Mrs. Reynolds had explained.

 

"And there is no fire on the grounds or at one of the cottages?"

 

"Not that I am aware of, Mrs. Darcy."

 

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Should you learn something before Mr. Darcy returns advise me immediately."

 

"Yes madam, immediately."

 

With no information to be had, Elizabeth went to the breakfast room where soon the party of guests began to gather together at table. Schemes for the forthcoming day were discussed and as Mrs. Thorney, always the last to join the table, took her seat, Darcy's absence became a topic of curiosity.

 

"Mrs. Darcy," Mr. Ashton inquired, "Will not your husband be joining us this morning?"

 

"It is unlikely, Mr. Ashton. He was called quite early this morning on some estate business."

 

"Was it very early?" Thorney inquired.

 

"Yes, I am afraid so."

 

"That does not bode well. It is never anything good when the master is awakened from his slumber. I hope it is nothing too serious," he added.

 

"Let us hope," Elizabeth responded calmly. But with Jane she rapidly shared an expression of uneasiness, as there remained no word from Darcy or any of his men.

 

Not thirty minutes later, however, Darcy himself came into the breakfast room, unshaven, his attire not entirely in its usual impeccable state and with a look of such absolute fury upon his face as to leave the table fixed in astonishment. Bingley began to inquire what was the matter, but Darcy waved his hand authoritatively and silenced Bingley before he could say much beyond Darcy's name. With measured words Darcy gave a perfunctory good morning to the room and apologized for his absence. The requisite civility satisfied, he turned to Chiltern. "Lord Chiltern, I must see you in the library."

 

Seemingly unmoved by Darcy's demeanor, Chiltern took a sip of his coffee before responding. "Now, Darcy? I have not yet finished my breakfast, surely it can wait."

 

In a voice bristling with barely contained anger, he replied: "It most certainly cannot wait, Chiltern. I will see you in the library immediately!" With that he turned on his heel, exiting the room as swiftly as he had entered.

 

After Darcy's less than common display of temper the table incredulously watched Chiltern jab his fork into his eggs with no evident design to follow Darcy. The room remained silent until Sir Patrick cleared his throat suggestively, at which sound Chiltern raised his eyes from his plate and noted the degree of curiosity his diligent consumption of eggs inspired. With an impatient sigh, Chiltern dropped his fork and the clatter of silver on china echoed through the silenced room. "I suppose I ought to see what Darcy requires," he remarked. Standing, he threw his linen napkin on the table and departed, leaving an astonished room in his wake. In Elizabeth's presence no one could discuss the only thing they wished: what could Lord Chiltern possibly have done to provoke the always collected and restrained Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy into such an unprecedented state of undisguised ire?

 

As Chiltern walked down the hallway toward the library his only thought was how he might best ameliorate Darcy's mood. Any thought of such success was quickly discarded, however, when he entered the library. Chiltern opened the door, closing it silently behind himself and observed Darcy for a moment before speaking. Darcy was standing with his back to the door, erect as a tree, hands clenched behind his back, evidently staring unswervingly at the clock that sat upon the mantel. He looked, Chiltern observed, rather forbidding.

 

"Here I am at your service, Darcy," he said casually. "What could not wait until I finished my breakfast, which I might add, I was finding quite delicious. You have such an accomplished staff."

 

Darcy turned around and Chiltern suspected that he had never seen a face set in such implacable severity. He was struck again by Darcy's physical presence and this, in conjunction with his demeanor, made Chiltern feel rather inadequate, which only served to inspire Chiltern's defiance.

 

When Darcy spoke his voice was even, calm and obdurate. "You are to leave Pemberley immediately. Collect your things and depart. Your carriage is being readied as we speak and servants are in your room awaiting your direction."

 

"Where is this coming from Darcy?" Chiltern cried in real surprise. "Why just last evening we gentlemen had a fine round of cards and were enjoying ourselves prodigiously."

 

"Just as I had anticipated you have proven yourself unworthy of your father's good name." Antipathy was manifest in Darcy's every feature.

 

"What nonsense is this? I paid my gambling loses," he continued mordantly. "I incurred no debts of honor at your table."

 

"Do not dare make light of this!" Darcy snapped.

 

"Darcy, you have me at quite a loss," Chiltern responded in real bafflement, although no less sarcastically. "I have been at my most correct and modest behavior since you last scolded me, you cannot fault me there."

 

"Do not try my patience. You will not pretend ignorance."

 

"If you are to dismiss me from your house do I not deserve some explanation?"

 

"This morning my men prevented three very well armed intruders from entering Pemberley House."

 

"Thieves? What has that to do with me?" demanded Chiltern.

 

"Everything, apparently."

 

"Come Darcy, if I have overstayed my welcome be a man and only say so forthrightly, but do not blame me for common thieves."

 

"What do you know about being a man?" Darcy scoffed dismissively.

 

"Enough to not blame common thievery on one of my guests and a family connection of long standing at that!"

 

"You have trespassed on the association of our families long enough!" Darcy retorted angrily. "What is more, they are not common thieves." Pausing for a moment, Darcy continued in a flat voice. "You may be interested to know that they are foreigners."

 

"Foreigners?" Chiltern quizzed, suddenly aroused.

 

"I believe you are acquainted with them. Or so they have claimed."

 

"You have spoken with them?"

 

"I have."

 

Darcy had not moved from his position in front of the mantel, he remained still, his hands clasped behind his back, the only movement the rising and falling of his chest and his eyes as they watched Chiltern's now nervous pacing about the room.

 

"And what have they charged me with?" Chiltern inquired defiantly. "Will I not be given the courtesy of such information?"

 

"You deserve no courtesies from me. Nevertheless I will oblige you: you have something they want, indeed which they claim as their own, and they have been tracking you across England for weeks. But I am confident none of this is fresh intelligence to you."

 

Chiltern began demanding knowledge of the intruders' whereabouts and details of their conversation, but Darcy quickly silenced him. "How dare you make any demands of me?" he said in a voice as cold and unbending as any Chiltern had ever heard. "You enjoy crafting tales that extol your own manliness, and yet you know nothing of it; you have no comprehension what it is to be a man of honor. You have willfully abused your family's honor and reputation, you have sunk so low as to place your own amusement and safety above that of your hostess, you have knowingly broken your word, nay, what is worse still, offered it fraudulently."

 

"Darcy!" Chiltern interjected in his own defense. "You must believe me. I never intended to stay this long. I did not wish to abuse your hospitality or trust."

 

"You did not wish to but did not hesitate in doing so! I am not inclined to listen to your excuses. You were fully cognizant that well armed and dangerous men were searching you out and yet you had the ignominious temerity to put my wife and my sister in peril." His voice having risen in anger throughout this explication, Darcy paused to collect himself, before lowering his voice and adding without disguising his disgust: "You are contemptible."

 

"Were they very well armed?" was Chiltern's feeble response.

 

"Yes. Fortunately my men displayed more sagacity than your pursuers, although that did not prevent one of my men from being injured in the furor." Impatiently, he added, "I have had enough of this, Chiltern. You are to leave immediately and you will not be welcomed to Pemberley again."

 

"I suppose you shall recommend to your uncle similar banishment," he replied, a little too sarcastically for Darcy's liking.

 

"I would never presume to speak in my uncle's name, but he will certainly be informed of the manner in which you have abused both your father's good name and my good faith, all the while knowingly placing my family and my household at risk. Now, get out of my sight!" The last words were verily spit out of Darcy's mouth in utter abhorrence.

 

Chiltern gave Darcy's impenetrable mien one long parting look before leaving the library in silence. He was a little surprised at his own reaction to the situation; he was, ashamed. When he had reached Derbyshire and needed to find a place where he knew he would be welcomed without question, he had thought first of Darcy. Darcy had not failed him and had proven himself the loyal and discreet man he had always been, even as a youth. An unfamiliar sense of shame, in no small measure inspired by his admiration for Mrs. Darcy, threatened to overwhelm him. He had known that dangerous, avaricious men were tracking him and yet he had remained, without heed for any consequence but his own pleasure.

 

Chiltern entered his room, walked to the foot of the bed and stared at the large trunk that had sat there unopened since his arrival. He felt he must attempt to make amends, or at least explain himself, before departing; to be worthy, for a moment, of the heritage and name he had long dismissed as useless and tiresome and yet, which had been just what had assured him that Darcy would provide the place of respite he had required. Chiltern quickly gave the servants instructions for packing his personal effects and then returned to the library. He heard voices within but knocked regardless. Instructed to enter, he found Darcy was no longer alone, but was now accompanied by Elizabeth.

 

"I am happy to find you both here," he stated in an almost timid voice.

 

Darcy was more annoyed than surprised at Chiltern's audacity in seeking another audience. "Chiltern I made myself quite clear in our earlier interview."

 

"Yes, you did and I will be on my way within a half-hour at most." He paused before continuing in a more confident and challenging voice. "Have you no interest in what the intruders were searching for?"

 

"None whatsoever," Darcy replied dryly.

 

"Well, I will show you nonetheless. Perhaps it will restore in some small measure your good opinion. As I told your wife when I first arrived, I have always been peculiarly fond of you Darcy and it unsettles me in a most peculiar manner that you and your wife might not realize the grandeur of my fall from grace."

 

"Chiltern," Darcy began, but Chiltern held up his hand to stop the rebuke.

 

"Indulge me this last time. You have nothing to lose. The servants are packing and loading my trunks, but one, and I cannot be on my way until they have completed the task." He walked back to the library door, stepped into the hallway and motioned for the servants to enter with the trunk which moments ago sat at the foot of his bed. They placed it in the middle of the room and exited, softly closing the door behind them. Darcy and Elizabeth stood together at the mantel and watched the entire sequence in silence--the former impatiently and the latter with traitorous curiosity.

 

"Since I returned to England I have been followed, to lesser or better effect, by thieves trying to get their hands on, among other items, but more particularly, what is in this trunk. Mrs. Darcy, you certainly recall our discussion on the three motivations a man might have for going to the new world: God, glory and gold. You are an intelligent and perceptive lady, but in this case too trusting of my words. You were mistaken. I am perfectly indifferent to glory. Gold is the answer."

 

Opening the trunk, Chiltern removed an object wrapped in thick blankets. Walking over to the table, he laid it down with tender care and unwrapped it. The sun was streaming in through the large window and as Chiltern turned toward Elizabeth and Darcy and lifted the object in his hands, the sun's rays reflected off the goldÑfor of pure gold it was madeÑand endowed the object with an unearthly quality. A spontaneous gasp passed Elizabeth's lips as she beheld in Lord Chiltern's hands a mask so unusual and exotic as to be unimaginable. Darcy was no less astonished. In what appeared a single piece of gold was carved a face of such strange proportionsÑgreat round eyes that seemed as though they could contain the very sun and moon, a fleshy, straight mouth, large ears and a prominent, flattened noseÑand yet of such perfect symmetry as to be quite spellbinding. Involuntarily, Elizabeth heard herself whispering a single word: "Magnificent!"

 

"Yes, magnificent!" Chiltern replied in any equally quiet, almost reverential tone, as though she had spoken confidentially to him and not inadvertently to herself. "I knew you would find it so Mrs. Darcy." He approached her, with the mask still in hand and presented it to her for examination. "This glorious head of gold is only the beginning. Although the form is necessarily unfamiliar to your experience, I venture you have never seen anything so sublime." Chiltern's eyes were glowing with a kind of possessed intensity and his rich baritone voice emulated that possession as he added--"Touch it!"--in a tone so suggestive of intimacy that Darcy instinctively stepped between Elizabeth and Chiltern.

 

"For this singular creation," Darcy interjected, breaking the strange hypnotic force that seemed to emanate from the mask in Chiltern's grasp, "you put my family in peril and have forsaken generations of your own family's honor? For a piece of crafted gold?"

 

Lord Chiltern turned to Darcy with an expression of unreserved satisfaction. "For a trunk full of crafted gold, Darcy. Oh, all the pieces are not in this one trunk. I would not be so foolish nor would it be particularly practical for transport, the weight, you see. But this most magnificent of all the pieces I keep close at hand."

 

To both Elizabeth's and Chiltern's astonishment, Darcy began to laugh: a cynical, disparaging laugh. "This is it then? Oh, the legends and myths that abound throughout London's clubs regarding your adventures and this is it? You are taken for some kind of heroic spy dedicated to advancing the cause of our empire, a leader among savages and Spaniards. This will be the grand disillusionment if ever there was one! To think, after all your excellently crafted stories in which you have so beautifully and energetically described yourself as the great and wild adventurer of a new and daring society, and you, an Earl no less, are in the end no more and no less than an ordinary, acquisitive treasure hunter, no better than any seafaring pirate or common thief. Are not you the one who was extolling to Mrs. Darcy the virtues of the Argentine because there a man is judged solely by his actions? Well, Chiltern, as she so rightly argued, a man is judged by his actions in all societies, and having judged you now by yours I am ashamed on behalf of your father's memory. That such an excellent man should have such a worthless son is pitiable indeed. We have no interest in your stolen gold, for stolen it most surely was, so pack your trunk and be gone."

 

Sincerely indignant, Chiltern replied to Darcy's indictment in a manner calculated to injure Darcy's equanimity. "I believe, Darcy, your wife may beg to differ. She understands!"

 

Shocked that Chiltern would assume such an argument, Elizabeth quickly interjected: "You misapprehend me completely, Lord Chiltern. One cannot help but be momentarily astonished at the first sight of such an object as you have here demonstrated. Do not dare suppose, however, that you can speak for my interests or understanding. Only Mr. Darcy is so privileged."

 

Chiltern looked from one to the other in silence, struck by the potency of their accord and he momentarily pitied any who would attempt to come between them. Resigned, he turned back to the table and began to wrap the golden mask while inquiring what had been done with the intruders in a tone as calm and indifferent as if no dispute had taken place.

 

"Perhaps I ought to set them free," Darcy responded contemptuously, "that they may continue their effort to recuperate their golden treasure. It might be just recompense for your having so unconscionably put my family at risk. What say you Chiltern, would your audacity provide sufficient defense should these men find you upon a lonely road?"

 

"I say that even in your justified anger you are too great a gentleman to do any such thing," Chiltern responded evenly as he closed the trunk, having secured the mask within. "You are Fitzwilliam Darcy, after all, and have too much respect for the duty and honor of your two names, which are as much your legacy as are your lands, to indulge any such barbarous inclinations. Not for my sake, but for that of generations of good will between our families, you shall keep me safe from their reach. Why do you suppose I came to Pemberley, Darcy, of all places? I requested a haven here because you have always been and will always remain, unfailingly, a man of honor and duty." He walked to the door, called for the servants to collect his trunk and then turned into the room again. "Mrs. Darcy, I am most grateful for your charming hospitality. The world will hear nothing but generous and sincere compliments from my lips," he bowed to her, almost elegantly. "Darcy," he added. And with that final clipped pronunciation he was gone from Pemberley as rapidly and unexpectedly as he had appeared.

 

As soon as the door was closed behind him, Elizabeth clasped her hands around Darcy's arm. "Well, that is over then."

 

He made no reply, but released his arm from her hold and sat down in a chair with a heavy sigh. Elizabeth observed him in some confusion. He did not look angry, rather discontented. She walked to where he sat and lifted his chin that he would look at her. "The matter is resolved. Lord Chiltern is gone and Paul's injury is minor. What has you so troubled?"

 

Darcy grasped her hand and held it for a moment in silence, before releasing it. Looking her in the face he spoke evenly. "I have failed you."

 

"Failed me? Whatever do you mean?"

 

"I ought to have ensured that such a situation as occurred this morning could not have come to fruition."

 

"There is no blame to be laid at your feet in this circumstance."

 

"Is there not?" He inquired, standing and pacing the room nervously. "My first duty is to you and Georgiana, and yet I put duty to the Fitzwilliam name first and let a scoundrel lay under your roof when I knew he was not to be trusted, while fully anticipating that no good would come of his presence."

 

"You could not know that armed men would come in his wake. That is ridiculous."

 

"I knew he was a danger! I even insisted on his giving me his word of honor that he would not bring scandal upon my house. I did not trust his word when it was given and yet I let him remain at his own discretion simply because of the association of our families. It was irresponsible! Reckless!"

 

"But, my love," Elizabeth cried, "nothing of consequence has occurred."

 

"By sheer happenstance, Elizabeth.  Anything might have occurred had my men not come upon the intruders."

 

"But they did!" she replied concisely. Seeing, however, that his distress was unabated, she attempted a different line of reasoning. "You take on too much yourself. I did not trust him either and yet I did not ask you to have him leave."

 

"It is hardly the same. It is not your duty to keep this family and this household secure, it is mine."

 

Darcy dropped himself into the corner of the sofa and began to rub his forehead in agitation, unable or unwilling to look at Elizabeth. She knew not how to respond. She believed him to be exaggerating the import of what had occurred, and yet she instinctively felt that she must not disrespect his concern for his role as protector. Something she must say, however, or he would believe her acquiescent to his censure. She seated herself next to him and set to his defense.

 

"You are correct, of course; it is your responsibility to keep our family and all of Pemberley's household secure. This does not require, however, that you single-handedly man the ramparts and battle all such dragons as may appear; it only requires that you ensure that all contingencies are provided for. And that has been the case here. You took into your home a man whom every circumstance required you to welcome openly and without reservation. When his presence brought with it a precarious situation, you had provided already a staff that was alert, willing and prepared to act in defense of our home. Your wife, your sister, your guests and your household are secure. The only failing of honor and duty that I see is that of Lord Chiltern. Shame and censure are his and his alone. I will not have you berate yourself in this inflated manner when nothing at all is amiss."

 

Darcy watched Elizabeth as she spoke. Neither her tone nor her air revealed emotion or anxiety, and yet in her every expression he felt, unquestionably, her love and devotion and he was grateful. "You are too generous with me, too forbearing," he replied, as he reached for her hand.

 

"I am neither one nor the other. You confuse me for Jane, I am sure."

 

"I could never confuse you for anyone," he replied as he lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. "You are incomparable."

 

"Very pretty, my love. But now you have wisely agreed with me and realized you are, in this case at least, quite faultless, we ought to return to our guests. You must first attend to yourself, however, for you are quite a sight, my dear sir, and then you shall join us in the gardens. The Thorneys will be departing tomorrow in the afternoon and it would not due for us to ignore them altogether on the last day of their visit."

 

"A quarter of an hour more will make no difference. Stay with me."

 

"Stay with you?"

 

"Yes," he answered. "Grant me just a quarter of an hour. You and I alone: no distractions, no music, no conversation, no civilities. Just you, resting in my arms."

 

"I believe I could oblige you," she responded, as she leaned into his embrace and placed her head securely beneath his chin. "I believe I could most happily oblige you."

 

"Thank you," was all the reply he made as he closed his eyes and let his cheek rest against the softness of her hair.

 

 

 

continued

 

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