Mr. Darcy's Promise (18 page)

She looked up at Elizabeth and offered her a weak smile. “I am so sorry, Elizabeth. I do not mean to be such a watering pot! You must not think too ill of me. My brother has often seen me in this state, but I am afraid you have not and I am terribly embarrassed.”

Elizabeth put a hand on her shoulder. “The road must have been terrible on that last stretch, for it has been raining this hard here for over an hour.” Elizabeth took off her shawl and placed it on Georgiana’s shoulders, bringing it together under her bowed chin. She used this opportunity to lift the sad face and look at it. Georgiana’s eyes had dark bags under them and she was pale. She looked like she had not eaten well nor slept well and the usual shine in her eyes held only the gloss of tears, not true happiness.
What has happened?
Elizabeth became quite concerned the more she evaluated her face. New tears slipped out of the corner of Georgiana’s eyes. Elizabeth took the handkerchief out of her hand and dabbed at her cheeks with Mr. Darcy’s handkerchief. She suddenly remembered Mr. Darcy doing the same thing to her just a few weeks ago. Had her emotions been so intense on the day of her wedding that she didn’t recognize what such a kind and loving gesture it was? She looked at Fitzwilliam. For a moment their eyes met and she was overcome with an urge to tell him thank you for his sensitivity during such a dark moment in her life.
Oh, how he must think I hate him!
She promised herself that she would express her gratitude in the next possible moment.

Georgiana seemed to get more control of
herself and dinner was served. Both Darcy and Elizabeth kept trying to engage Georgiana in conversation but she still seemed low in spirits and did not offer much back.

Mr. Darcy started telling Georgiana all he learned about chickens today and embellished the story a little to see her smile. She only nodded and murmured sporadically. He then decided since she wasn’t eating anyway, that dinner was over. “Georgiana, I have not heard you play the pianoforte. I would be delighted to hear what you have been working on.”

“William, I fear I am not in the mood to play tonight. For if I did, it would be very depressing music, indeed. I think I will retire early, thank you.” Georgiana got up from her chair, placed her napkin on the table, and removed Elizabeth’s shawl. She turned to Elizabeth, “Forgive me my rudeness. I am very weary.”

After she left, Darcy stood and escorted Elizabeth to the music room, his worry evident on his face. Elizabeth took his arm, relishing in the sensation it gave her to be close to him.
“Fitzwilliam? What is wrong with Georgiana?”

His heart leapt for joy for a moment; she had used his Christian name without being reminded! “I do not know. Her last letter begged to come home to Pemberley and yet she behaves as if she does not wish to be here.”

Elizabeth didn’t get that impression at all, “On the contrary, I feel she clung to you quite forcefully. I do believe she missed you.”

Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed. “She is always in the mood to play for me when I request it! Something is troubling her. Perhaps I should go to her.”

Elizabeth sat down on the chaise next to him and patted his arm. “Sometimes it takes a woman’s touch. I will try to talk to her soon and find out what is the matter. Now in the meantime, your mood is so dark right now I believe a good wife would try to lighten it.” He looked up at her, wondering what she could mean. “Since I do not play well, I am sure to make you laugh as I attempt to play something on the pianoforte. But I must caution you, you may smile like you are now, but if you openly laugh at me I may never touch the keys again!”

Thrilled at the idea that he could listen to Elizabeth play for him, he nodded his head. “I shall do my best to control my inner laughter, for it would be a tragedy for you to stop playing. Well, my dear ‘good wife,' I believe I must insist that you lighten my mood.”

*****

Elizabeth played for him for some time, and he found that her protestations of being unskilled to be a gross exaggeration. He requested a song as well and she sang for him. He sat back with a peculiar look on his face, and afterwards pressed a kiss to her hand before they retreated to their various spaces.

It was getting late, but Elizabeth kept thinking about the eggs in the barn. Now that the rain had stopped, she concluded she would slip out and check on them, but first she needed to gather her supplies. She found her way to the kitchen and found a whiskey glass. She put her shawl around her shoulders and used the candle to light her way to the front door. Most of the servants had already gone to bed, and she had thought she was alone. The sound of Mr. Darcy’s deep voice startled her as she reached the front door, and she nearly dropped the candle on the floor before straightening.

“Where are you going at this time of night?”

“I was going to check on the eggs.”

He looked at her with a small grin, recalling the wonderful time they had shared that afternoon discussing chickens.
“In the dark? Do you mind if I accompany you?” 

“Night time is the only time I can do what I am wanting with them.” She saw his eyebrow rise in puzzlement and she added, “You will see, you may come if you desire to. It will not take long.” It was late and wet outside, but she knew she wouldn’t be long so she just
wrapped her shawl around her more tightly. The pathway that led to the barn was familiar enough, but she had not counted on the slipperiness of the ground. She felt her boots slip a few times and Mr. Darcy reached out for her to steady her, remaining close all the way.

When they reached the barn Elizabeth put the candle and glass down on a shelf. “What are you doing with a whiskey glass?” Darcy asked. His interest was piqued now. Here they were, together in the barn with nothing but a single candle making shadows dance along the walls. He took a moment to appreciate her beauty, a habit that he quite enjoyed. She moved so gracefully around the barn, and the candlelight showed the brightness and loveliness of her eyes.

              Elizabeth saw him examining her, and glanced away briefly, feeling conscious of the intimacy of the moment. She smiled at him. “You will see. I am going to see how far along the eggs are and it will tell me when to expect them to hatch.” She lifted the nest box door and slid her hand in carefully under the hen and pulled out two eggs. She placed them on a pile of hay. He motioned to Darcy to bring the candle over. She reached for the whiskey glass, held it up to her face and inverted it. “Now, if you do not mind, it will help if you hold the candle while I hold the egg and glass. Once I have the egg on top of the bottom of the glass, put the candle inside the glass, but only for a few seconds at a time; the candle will go out if it stays in too long.”

He nodded in assent. He stepped closer and watched her pick up an egg and then
cup the lowest portion of it between her thumb and forefinger. She wrapped her other fingers over the base of the inverted glass, therefore sealing the gap between the egg and glass. The egg was held in place above the glass by her slender fingers.

“Now put the candle inside the glass and look at the egg.” He did as she instructed and the lower part of the egg started glowing in her hand. She pushed her face closer to the egg. “There in the center, do you see that dark spot and the spiderlike vessels?” He leaned in and examined the egg for an extended moment. The glow started fading and she said hastily, “Take the candle out quickly!”

“Sorry.” The candlelight lit up the barn again.

“Try again but do not forget to take the candle in and out frequently.”

Her arm held up the egg and inverted glass again. His arm that held the candle was so close to hers. Their faces were close enough that if he turned his head towards her he could brush up against her cheeks. This close, he could smell the fresh lavender in her toilette water, and it was intoxicating.

Elizabeth was quite conscious of his proximity.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea,
she thought ruefull
y.
I am already having a hard time making sense of my feelings for him and moments like these make it all the more difficult.
She had begun to care for and respect him, but that was only appropriate now that they were spending so much time together. He had been quite engaging this afternoon and it was exciting to see him enjoy himself with the chickens. It was moments like this where he touched her or was close to her that her mind and heart veered in different directions. What her mind understood was that Mr. Darcy was being kind and polite and accommodating to her needs. He proved trustworthy and generous too. He was providing for his wife, as the gentleman he was raised to be would do. This did not mean he cared for her.

But what her heart understood was that his eyes often spoke of more than kindness. Her heart remembered his gentle touches and kisses on her hands, and thought that he would not do so if he did not enjoy them. Her heart also told her of her budding feelings for him every time he touched her or was near her. She felt a sudden desire to turn her head towards him and look at him. Her face was just below his as he was leaning over to see the egg. She could smell his familiar scent, and could see the day’s stubble forming on his face. She could hear his breathing and felt it move her hair as he exhaled. 

She forced her attention back to the egg. “That dark spot in the middle is the chick forming. It looks like it is growing well, but this is the first time I have candled them.”

He had been consciously reminding himself to breathe. Every time he placed the candle inside the glass his arm would brush against hers and his heart would skip a beat. It took the candle flickering to remind him to remove his arm and allow the flame to grow bright again. He wondered if they would hatch and grow their feathers in time before the winter storms hit. He knew from the confusing words she had uttered this afternoon that these eggs meant
something more to her than simple farm animals. “Elizabeth, how long before they hatch? It looks like there is still quite a bit of light area.”

“If I remember correctly the hen only sits on the eggs for twenty-one days. I have only candled them towards the end so I do not know how far along they are now. Perhaps they are
less than a week into it? Maybe more.”

“So that means two more weeks before they hatch?”

She nodded. “The egg will be entirely dark when it is time to hatch except for the base. Have you ever watched eggs hatch?”

He was overcome with admiration for her brightness and inquisitiveness. He had done the right thing in marrying her.
How could l live without her?
She looked as if she were awaiting a response, so he refocused his mind. “If I have never fed chickens before you cannot expect me to have witnessed eggs hatching. But I confess I am overwhelmed with the desire to see it with you. Promise me that you and I will watch them together.” She looked back up at him and their eyes locked. He was just inches away. He leaned his head forward and his forehead rested on hers. She held her breath. He reached with his only open hand and placed it gently on her waist. “Promise me, dearest Elizabeth.” His voice was barely a whisper.

She could barely hear his last words over the sound of her racing heart. “I promise.” She whispered. Her waist was tingling where his hand was. She closed her eyes.
So he is to kiss me now? Am I ready for this?
Her heart beat faster as she waited for her first kiss.
Yes, I want him to kiss me.
Suddenly he raised his head and stepped away, his hand still on her waist. She opened her eyes to the dark surrounding them. The candle had gone out. She pressed her lips together, thankful for the dark that cloaked her disappointed face.

Darcy tried to find his voice. They now had far more privacy than he could have wished for. The candle had blown out just as he was leaning in to kiss her. Although he desperately wished for this, and had imagined numerous times, the impulse was premature. He didn’t want to rush her, and, after all, he had made her a promise. He was finding keeping that sort of promise to be very trying indeed. His hand remained on her waist and couldn’t find the strength to remove
it. He cleared his throat. “Elizabeth, I fear we will have to try to make it back without any light.” His voice was shaky and soft. He didn’t really want to leave; what he really wanted was to pull her close and take the time to find her lips and cover her in kisses. He wanted to feel her next to him here in the dark, and to taste that beautiful impertinent mouth.

Her eyes were trying to find his form in the darkness but she could see nothing. She put her eyes in the direction of his soft voice. There would never be a better time to say what she desperately wanted to say. Here, in the dark, it felt like she could speak honestly. She placed her hand over where his still rested on her waist. He pulled away slightly but she held it. “I need to tell you something. And if I do not tell you now, I do not know if I will find the courage later.” He gave her waist a subtle squeeze and she continued. “That day in the carriage, our wedding day, I was not in the best of moods. I fear I am a woman with decided opinions, and I could not bear the thought that I had lost my ability to choose whom I would marry. My mind was quite decided against our marriage.”

“Elizabeth, do not . . .” He did not want to hear from her lips how she hated him. His heart could not bear it, not after having seen such positive indications over the last few days and weeks. Not after today.