Summer at Pemberley
a Jane Austen fan fiction
by Lucy
| | | |
Flight of
Whimsy
| | | |
As Elizabeth made to rise from bed she felt her husband firmly
grasp her wrist to halt her movement.
"Where do you think you are going, wife?"
She turned to look upon him. His arm was raised just enough
to hold her wrist, but he lay deep in the comforts of his bed. His eyes
remained closed. The morning stubble upon his chin disguised the firm set of
his jaw line and his hair was all a tussle from sleep. The subdued airiness and
intimate ease of the man who lay at her side was starkly incongruous with the
fastidious, upright gentleman the world saw in their drawing room; the sight of
him thus rising from sleep to wakefulness never failed to stir Elizabeth's
heart. She reached out with her unbound hand and pushed a lock of hair from his
forehead.
"We have a guest departing this morning. I am rising to
attend him." She replied evenly, suppressing her laughter as he shook his
head in answer and grinned boyishly, his eyes still closed.
"Sir Patrick is perfectly capable of drinking his
coffee unaccompanied and I have every confidence he would take no offense in so
doing." He opened his eyes now and looked straight into her own, as though
he had known her gaze had been tenderly upon him. When he spoke again his tone
was playfully resolute. "You cannot possibly imagine that I am at all
prepared to let you rise from this bed so quickly, today of all days."
"Fitzwilliam," she began to protest, but he
pulled her toward him and as she fell gently upon him he wrapped her into his
embrace.
"This is so much better, love. Stay."
Elizabeth made no more attempt at protest, she simply laid
her head upon his chest and closed her eyes. She adored how he smelledÑof
citrus and bergamot oilÑand relished the coolness of his skin. She happily
relented to his soft ministrations and enjoyed the sensation of his fingers twisting
and turning within her abundant mane of hair, now and again lightly caressing
the nape of her neck.
"Do you know what today is?" inquired he after a
moment of enchanting stillness.
Her head still lay upon his chest, so that he could not see
the cheeky little smile that graced her lips before she rejoined flatly:
"Thursday."
"My teasing little minx!" responded he with a
chuckle, and she delighted in how the sound of his amusement resonated from
deep within his chest and echoed into her ear.
Lifting her head, she looked at him in silence for a brief
moment before responding. The soft suffusion of contentment upon his mien gave
to his features a becoming unreserved affability not generally common to him.
"You have assured me in the past, dear husband, that you are quite pleased
to find me generally unsentimental, but even I am not so unsentimental as to
forget."
"You of course recall that I was forced to confess
that I have a surprise for you to mark the occasion."
"I thought your convincing the Gardiners to not forgo
their visit was my surprise."
"No. I simply thought it right they should be
here." He paused for a moment and gazed at her. She had such a fresh,
softness about her in the mornings, and a wonderfully delicate blush to her
complexion that he found particularly appealing. And her eyesÑthose bewitching
eyes with their remarkable expressivenessÑher eyes were always brilliant with
the expectations of the day. "I have a gift. A unique gift. I am quite
sure it will be very much to your liking."
Elizabeth sat up playfully and held out her hands, palms
upward and fingers outstretched; opening her eyes wide and lifting her eyebrows
expectantly she murmured not a word, but her anticipation was apparent. Darcy
laughed and swatted away her outstretched hands. "It does not come in a
box, dearest. It cannot be wrapped."
"Oh!" He said nothing to her exclamation, an
expression of amusement settling upon his features. Elizabeth saw he was
reticent: "Well then?" she inquired with such adorable petulance that
Darcy laughed again with unmitigated delight.
"Such spoilt behavior I should have never anticipated
from you. I never thought my sensible little wife could be so covetous. I will
not divulge my secret. I will make you wait, for you shall most certainly never
guess. I am in possession of some imagination, after all, even of some
dangerously romantic notions, it would seem."
Elizabeth expressed her incredulity at such an avowal with
such sweetness that Darcy was compelled to reflect that she was particularly
endearing this morning. "I thought it needed to be something quite
memorable," he continued. "I can gift you with a book or jewels or
trinkets whenever I so desire. I wanted something as delightfully surprising as
finding you so very unexpectedly standing on my lawn exactly one year ago
today. When you see what I have done I hope you shall not think me gone mad. It
is, I am afraid, rather a bit of a flight of whimsy."
"Now I am all curiosity."
"By nightfall you shall see to what extents I have
gone to please you, my love, and I should not be at all astonished should you
think me an extravagant fool."
"Think you a fool? Oh, Fitzwilliam, my dearest
husband!" She replied with an unexpected seriousness that took them both
by surprise. Elizabeth took his face into her hands and softly kissed his lips
before speaking again in the delicate, purring tones she generally reserved for
their most intimate embraces. "You love me in every manner a man can love
a woman. You think always of pleasing me and indulging me. I would be the fool
if I did not see that and treasure that, whatever foolery you may have in store
for me."
He smiled so beautifully at her words and his eyes shown
with such devotion that she was moved to abandon her habitual teasing manner
and to speak words of more consequence.
"I do not believe that you can rightly comprehend what
it is for someone like me to have the privilege of love. Young ladies with no
prospects, no fortunes, no connections, as I was when you came upon me in
Hertfordshire, we are taught that in life we should expect nothing, that we
should accept whatever security we are offered, no matter how distasteful or
how repugnant to our sense of self. I could never bear that. I rebelled against
such subjugation."
"As when I first went to you?"
"Yes," she replied with honesty, as she tenderly
pushed a lock of hair from his forehead that had insistently returned to its
prior position after her earlier similar ministration. "So, is it not
paradoxical that I have been rewarded for my obstinate disobedience precisely
with you?"
"Indeed, if it be a reward." He replied,
Elizabeth thought, with too much grave humility. There were moments when he
seemed, even now after so many months of the beautiful communion of marriage,
almost incredulous of her regard. She wondered if perhaps the very impertinence
of manner which she knew him to adore was not the cause. She thought this an
opportune moment for soothing assurance.
"I do not speak my feelings as often as you do,
Fitzwilliam. I am always impertinent and teasing. So much so that at times I
even fear that you may not apprehend how very much I love you. I know from too
close observation what daily punishment it is when a man and a woman who cannot
respect and love one another wed. Although I had long ago promised myself I
would not marry a man I could not respect, I could not love, in truth, I never
imagined that a husband could be all that you are to me. I never dreamt that my
love for you could so completely fill my heart. How was I to know that between
a husband and his wife could exist feelings so much more exhilarating, so much
more moving than just a sympathetic caring? Perhaps I was simply more innocent
than I thought myself, but truly, I never imagined that my every sense could be
so alive to you, to the pleasure of your touch, to your smell, to your taste,
to your very presence. Sometimes when I look at you I am overwhelmed by
emotions of such frightful power, of such ardent passion and such sweet
tenderness. Yet I have never felt so protected as when I am in your embrace and
I have never longed to care for someone as I long to care for you."
"Eliza," was all the reply he made. He lifted his
head from the pillow and placed the tenderest of kisses upon her lips and let
his head sink again into the soft down. Closing his eyes, he pulled her closer
into his embrace. His only desire was to chastely hold her and lay with her, to
indulge in what she had just so aptly called the privilege of love. And they
did just that, laying together in harmonious silence until the world could no
longer be civilly ignored.
When they entered the breakfast room some time later they
found that Sir Patrick was not alone as anticipated, but he was being carefully
attended to by Miss Bingley. Sir Patrick did not know whether to be pleased or
displeased with her artsÑfor only Mrs. Thorney was apt to arrive at breakfast
later than Miss Bingley, and Sir Patrick's departure was scheduled for
particularly early in the morning. On the one hand, he could admire such an
open declaration of her ambitions since her unembarrassed ambition was what he
most liked about her; but then, it might also display less independence than he
would have hoped for. If he should take a wife, he did not want a lady who
would be always at his side. So disconcerted was he by her unexpected
solicitousness, that he insisted on making his departure from the ladies there
in the breakfast room and allowed only Darcy to accompany him to his carriage.
"I suppose she's made it quite clear I can proceed
should I wish to," Sir Patrick remarked as he stood in front of his
carriage.
"So it would seem," was Darcy's succinct
response.
"You were correct, she is a difficult creature to
fully understand. How should I proceed?"
"You ask me? I am no matchmaker!"
"Twenty thousand pounds is no small fortune. A
gentleman dedicated to politics can never ignore fortune."
Darcy looked at his friend for a moment before responding.
Not so very long ago he himself had held similarly unfeeling notions regarding
what a gentleman ought to desire from a marriage. Still under the powerful
influence of the morning's tender interlude with his wife, he surprised himself
a little by offering his friend a frank reflection. "There are more
pleasing comforts to be had from a wife than a fortune and I should imagine
marriage a very disagreeable business if that is the greatest source of comfort
you are to find. Will you find in her a tender companion, a trusted
confidant?"
"A tender companion?" Sir Patrick shrugged his
shoulders. "I find her quite amusing. She is indisputably a terrible snob
and a gossip and yet I find her amusing. As for the rest, I am not really sure
that I ever thought my wife would be my confidant. But now that you suggest it,
I suppose it would be rather satisfying to find it so."
Recalling how miserably his service to Bingley had gone
wrong when he had offered marital advice in the past, Darcy thought better than
to pursue this topic with much dedication, but Elizabeth's earlier words about
a young lady's expectations disquieted his conscious. He was keenly alive for
perhaps the first time to the pitiable image of sweet, loyal Jane having been
left to the misery of disappointed hopes for so many long months as Bingley's
negligence gave rise to the understanding that his marked attentions had been
no more than a flight of fancy. Miss Bingley's fortune gave her seemingly more
possibilities, but it made her no less vulnerable to caprice. He unhappily
considered that soon his own darling Georgiana would, inevitably, be discussed
in the same calculating, unfeeling fashion. A man who had spent the better part
of the last ten years resentful of every unmarried lady's attempt to win his
attentions, Darcy felt, as he surely never had before, compassion for their
lot.
"I am not inclined to offer direction to any gentleman
on such a private decision as who they should or should not offer to. That sort
of counsel is always impertinent and ill-advised. But do consider for a moment
that gentlemen are given the luxury in society of action, and the relative
honor of that action is entirely up to each gentleman's whim. Young, unmarried
ladies are meant to passively wait. They are given little more than the choice
of a reply, and sometimes not even that. Whatever you do is your concern alone,
but for her sake go about it honestly and forthrightly."
"Fear not Darcy. I know Miss Bingley is now connected
to you through your wife and your friend. Do not be concerned. Here at
Pemberley we have been thrown together by chance, but I do understand what it
would imply should I seek her out in London. If I call upon her it shall not be
merely to entertain some empty vanity. Frankly, I am far too occupied for
purposeless coquetry. You know my word is good. I will not play with her
sentiments or her expectations. I will not use her ill."
"I know you to be a man of honor, of the greatest
integrity. Forgive me if my commentary seemed to imply otherwise."
"I am not offended. You have merely reminded me that
marriage is a serious business not to be entered into lightly, and I will act
accordingly. Now, enough on such sentimental womanly topics, it shall not do at
all. Do thank Mrs. Darcy again for a most delightful sojourn, and we shall
surely see each other in Town before too long. I will need to avenge that
drubbing you gave me at billiards last eveningÑit cannot stand."
They shook hands fraternally and Sir Patrick was off to
Blackfall Manor.
As Darcy made his way back to the breakfast room he was
more than a little surprised to encounter Mrs. Thorney moving in the same
direction, early as the morning still wasÑafter all, she had no titled
unmarried Member of Parliament to woo as did his other unusually early riser.
He thought she ought perhaps to rise early more frequently, for she looked
absolutely splendid in a high colored verdant toned riding habit that
accentuated her height and her long elegant neck. She truly was a remarkably
handsome woman, and yet there remained something so disappointing about her
character as to quickly stultify her considerable good looks. She was such a
flighty, peculiar creature, spoilt in the truest sense of the word. He had never
been in her company for so much time as this visit to Pemberley and he found
himself hoping that his own steady friendship with her husband did not
necessarily translate into a similarly steady friendship between their wives.
"Mrs. Thorney," he bowed elegantly as they met in
the hallway outside the breakfast room. "What a pleasant surprise to see
you about so early."
She laughed good-naturedly. "You really can be such a
devilish fellow! I believe that is why you and my husband get on so well. Yes,
I acknowledge it is a tremendous sort of miracle to see me up and about when
the sun is so recently risen, but I find the beautiful morning calls me out for
a ride. We shall be definitively leaving Pemberley in but two days and you
never know but the dreadful rain could return by morning. I absolutely must
have another ride around, I have grown so fond of the countryside hereabouts,
so I must take my opportunity when it is presented. For once I shall not
indulge my weaker self. But when will we convince your wife to become a
proficient as well?"
"Pray, do feel at your own leisure to make an effort
at such a conversion yourself, she is just inside. I shall not join your bid,
however," he remarked dryly as he led her into the breakfast room.
By the time breakfast was concluded some time later Mrs.
Thorney had made no progress in her effort to make Elizabeth a riding
enthusiast, she did, nevertheless, secure the company of all the gathered
gentlemen as well as Georgiana. With Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Ashton enjoying a
dawdling walk in the gardens, Miss Bingley dedicated to composing a letter to
her sister detailing her new found objective to become 'Lady Caroline' and Lady
Catherine confined to her rooms with complaints of a headache (her daughter was
never seen before noon), Jane and Elizabeth were left, most happily, to
themselves.
About midway through their quiet morning the sisters were
making their way from Elizabeth's private parlor to one of the public rooms
utilized mostly in the wintertime in which Elizabeth hoped to show Jane a Greek
vase just arrived from an antiquarian in London. "It is extraordinarily
beautiful, but the depictions are almost scandalous, Jane," Elizabeth was
saying as they walked arm-in-arm. "I hardly think the blue parlor the
place for it, but Mr. Darcy insists such a treasure not be hidden away and of
course our Aunt Gardiner has quite agreed with him. She actually said that Papa
would surely fault me for such mishishness. Sometimes I think they enjoy
conspiring against me, so you must tell me your thoughts on its location and I
shall be guided by your delicate sensibility alone."
While Jane was quietly acquiescing, they passed the
ballroom only to be startled by a great clattering sound that came from behind
the closed doors. With a surprised 'whatever could that have been!' Elizabeth turned toward the
closed doors only to find herself most unexpectedly hindered from opening them
and entering the room by her own footman. Good John was sure he had never seen
the mistress look upon any servant with the displeased incredulity with which
she now regarded him. Looking down sheepishly he stumbled out his excuses.
"Beggin' your pardon, mistress, but the master gave
the strictest orders that I was to allow none to enter."
Elizabeth smiled and wondered what her husband could
possibly be about. "Surely, John, he did not mean that I could not
enter."
She felt quite sympathetic toward the poor man as he
blushed profusely. "Again, beggin' your pardon, mistress, but Mr. Darcy
was most decided. The master said to me quite plainly: 'Not a person John,
and most particularly not the mistress, do you understand me? I depend upon you
to not allow her to smile her way past you.' Those were his very words, mistress."
At that moment Mrs. Reynolds came out of the room allowing
Elizabeth a brief glimpse of what looked to be some sort of construction. "Mrs. Reynolds, I will not
importune poor John with my insistence, but you must tell me what Mr. Darcy is
about." But Mrs. Reynolds' reticent expression convinced her that her
husband's instructions were not to be gainsaid. "Oh, never you mind. John
has already told me that Mr. Darcy gave most particular instructions that I was
not to know." Turning to her sister, she continued jovially.
"Clearly, Jane, I am not wanted here. The mystery will be resolved soon
enough." With a laugh she led Jane away, resolved to allow her husband the
pleasure of his surpriseÑand in truth she was more than a little gratified by
his efforts.
Mrs. Reynolds watched her mistress walk away with her
lovely sister and smiled with satisfaction. Had it once been suggested to her
she should have never believed that her master could be improved in any
wayÑsuch perfection did she see in his look and manner and characterÑand yet
since returning to Pemberley with his young, handsome and lively wife she had
witnessed in his person a lightness, a softness and a deep, unmistakable
contentment that made him still more admirable to her doting inclination. If
for nothing else, the happiness the mistress had brought to Pemberley was
reason enough to approve her. And with a child now on the way, why the
happiness would only increase. And yet she did not know what to make of this
flight of whimsy the master had conjured.
Nothing of this nature had ever been done at Pemberley in her nearly
five and twenty years of service. She had been incredulous when he had called
upon her for assistance in arranging the matter and at first confused by his
demand for secrecy from all but essential staff, and most particularly from his
wife. 'A surprise to amuse her,' he had said noting her confusion.
After her meeting with Mr. Darcy in his study Mrs. Reynolds
had gone to her office below stairs and sat for a moment in contemplation. A notion
entering her head, she had gone to the shelf and pulled down her household
diary from the prior year and compared the dates. "Aha!" she had
exclaimed to herself. Under visitors she had made the following entry: 'Three
visitors today, from London. An agreeable married couple and their pretty
niece. Appears to be some acquaintance between the young lady and the master.' No more than that and yet as she
reflected back on her master's behavior that summer day she smiled
indulgently--he had rushed into the house so very unexpectedly and in such an
anxious huff and within half an hour was outdoors again in search of the
visitors. She should have known then the acquaintance was of some import, for
he customarily assiduously avoided visitors to the house and grounds. Yet on
that day she had wondered only momentarily at the peculiarity of his manner,
for surely an acquaintance, even if minor as the girl had suggested, was reason
enough for such civility in a gentleman as attentive as her master. She had not
even thought on the import of that day when she had received his almost
effusive letter announcing his marriage to that same young lady; as long as he
was well cared for, the particularities of his sentiments were not her concern.
Now, with his strange request timed to coincide with that very day Mrs.
Reynolds had a small view into the intimacy of her master's heartÑand she
treasured and protected that knowledge with her habitual discretion. To the
entirety of the staff this would seem no more than an indulgence for the
Darcys' guests; none would know from her that it was in fact a romantic
declaration of love from husband to wife. And so Mrs. Reynolds had set to
making his whimsy a reality and was sure both he and she would be pleased with
the results. Anticipating her mistress' delight and the surprise of the guests
this evening, she smiled kindly. Young as he still was, it had been a very long
time since she had considered her master as youthful, and yet that was just how
he appeared to her since his marriageÑbestowed in his conjugal happiness with
all the best traits of youth.
And Mrs. Reynolds was correct as to the sure delight of
family and guests alike. After dinner Darcy had asked for his guests'
indulgence. "This evening Mrs. Darcy and I wish to offer an alternative to
customary parlor entertainment," he had stated. Walking in front of the
group he arrived at the ballroom doors and swung them open wide with a rather
theatrical air. To the collective astonished approbation of the group the room
revealed his machinations. Elizabeth's eyes wandered from the room to her
husband's face and he felt an unspeakable delight in her surprise and
amazement. The room was bright with lighted candelabras and a row of chairs was
facing an elaborate and beautifully set stage.
Mrs. Thorney was the first to react. "Players! How
immensely charming!"
Impulsively she took her husband by the hand and swept into the room,
eager to select a seat. "John, I cannot imagine why I never thought of
such a diversion. Why Mrs. Darcy, this is such a singular treat for your
guests. How I adore a good play! Tell me, what shall we see performed?"
Elizabeth turned her gaze to Darcy again. He was happy to
let their guests believe it was all his wife's doing for their pleasureÑshe
knew that this was his particular gift; certainly the Gardiners understood as
well, he did not care for the rest. He rather liked it remaining that way.
"Shakespeare," Elizabeth stated half in question,
half in assertion, to which her husband answered with only an affirmative
smile.
"A comedy, I do hope," Mrs. Thorney continued.
"That depends," Darcy replied, "where one
finds humor, Mrs. Thorney."
"Whatever can you mean, sir?"
By way of response he quoted from the play they were to see
performed by a traveling London troop, all the while looking into his wife's
amused and delighted face, her eyes brimming with joy and anticipation: "For
aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of
true love never did run smooth."
"A Midsummer Night's Dream! Splendid!" Mrs. Thorney cried
and happily seated herself in anticipation. As the others likewise made their
way to chairs with equal surprise and delight, Elizabeth and Darcy were left to
themselves standing by the doors.
Elizabeth took Darcy's hand and wrapped it tenderly within
her own, bringing it toward her heart. "Oh, what a magical choice,"
she whispered, her eyes bright with adoration and understanding. That he should
wish to mark their finding one another on the lawn of Pemberley in such a
singular, poetic manner moved her tremendously.
Leaning close, Darcy whispered in return. "Do you like
your surprise, my love?"
Still holding onto his hand with one of her own, she took
her other hand and caressed his cheek. "Do I like my surprise? Oh,
Fitzwilliam, I am speechless with delight and gratitude. Such a beautiful
gesture and all you mean to convey with it I shall never forget." They
shared an expressive, eloquent gaze before taking their own seats, and they felt
as if in that moment all the pain they had inflicted one upon the other before
that unexpected summer encounter, all the old wounds that Lady Catherine's
arrival had stubbornly evoked in their memories, all was finally and fully
healed, so that when the performance commenced their hearts were light and
joyful as never before.
Indeed, so pleased were they with each other and the
delightful, mischievous performance, that not even Lady Catherine's disapproval
of such entertainment could mar their joy. For as the players took their final
bow and the assembled company of fashionable London gentlemen and ladies
applauded and laughed without reserve or pretense, Lady Catherine sat
obdurately displeased.
Joyful upon her husband's arm, Elizabeth went to the
unhappy lady's side and in a whimsy of good will with her free hand took one of
the lady's within her own as affectionately as she would have taken the hand of
her best beloved sister had she looked similarly discontented. "I believe
that your ladyship has not enjoyed Shakespeare's mischievous Puck as well as
have the rest of the party. I hope it is not that you are still unwell and
suffering the consequences of your earlier headache."
Lady Catherine did not at first know how to respond.
Elizabeth still held her hand within her own, lightly but determinedly, as
though they were the dearest of relations. Feeling both irritated at the
familiarity of the gesture and unaccountably pleased by the same, Lady
Catherine slowly pulled her hand from the hold of this young lady who appeared
to her every day more uncommon. When she replied, however, her tone suggested
no such confusion but was as dismissive and haughty as ever. "Do you not
find, Mrs. Darcy, that there is something not altogether proper about
Shakespeare's humor?"
To Lady Catherine's surprise, if not to that of Darcy who
stood at Elizabeth's side silently observing this peculiar exchange between his
wife and his aunt, Elizabeth laughed at the older lady's assertion. She was so
delighted with the evening and with her husband's wonderful gift that she was,
on this one evening, even delighted with Lady Catherine. "That is perhaps
true, your ladyship. For all Shakespeare's canonization as the great man of
British letters, for all we are to admire his wisdom, I have always suspected
his plays endure precisely because he is always just a little improper. There
remains something not at all conventional about the Bard, and his comedies are
so marvelously impertinent, and yet I defy you not to admire them in spite of
yourself."
As she spoke Lady Catherine observed the brilliancy of
Elizabeth's eyes; they were remarkably expressive, intelligent and even honest
eyes. "It would appear, Mrs. Darcy, that in life there are times when
admiration will come whether we would wish for it or not."
Lady Catherine then turned away and went to the drawing
room where refreshments had been laid out, but Darcy was quite sure his aunt's
observation was in no way related to the Bard. So that he was not surprised
when, upon her departure from Pemberley two days after, Lady Catherine insisted
that if Mrs. Darcy were able to travel, she would expect them all at Rosings
for Easter.
| | | |
Austen Interlude Author Directory