Mr. Darcy's Promise (23 page)

Rebecca, a young maid, was absorbed in her task of folding linen when she heard the sound of her mistress’s voice. She paused, hands still full before she stepped over towards the door. She couldn’t imagine why the mistress would be in the servants’ quarters.

“Oh Rebecca, please get me a wash rag and plenty of water. And please notify Serafina that I need a bath . . . maybe two.” She watched Rebecca’s expression transform from curiosity to alarm as she took in the state Elizabeth was in.
Whatever horror I might inspire shall not change the fun I just had!
Rebecca did as she was instructed, and soon Elizabeth heard a deep voice behind her.

“And who might this be? Could it be the woman who pushed her poor husband in the mud?”

She turned around to see a filthy Mr. Darcy and burst into laughter anew at the sight of him. He had used his fingers to wipe away the mud from his eyes and mouth, but every other inch of him was thick with mud. “Oh dear, I pushed a little hard that last time, did I not?” She giggled in spite of the twinge of guilt that came over her.

He smiled widely.
Even covered in mud she is the most beautiful woman in the world, perhaps more than ever.
“You are giggling again? Do not worry, madam, I have learned my lesson. I will no longer ask you why you are giggling.”

*****

The two of them poured water over themselves over and over again until they were both dripping wet, but finally could declare themselves at least nominally clean. Elizabeth had to resist the temptation to hide behind her hands; the dampened muslin clung to her body in a way that concealed very little. But that wasn’t why her cheeks were flushed. Mr. Darcy had taken off his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat, and his once-white shirt was quite thin and soaked through to the skin. She had never noticed how masculine his person was before, and she kept finding herself stealing glances at his chest and arms. Her heart beat rapidly, and in spite of the chill of the water she was very warm. She was impressed that a man who did not do physical labor with his hands could have a chest shaped so handsomely.

“Do I still have mud on me, or is there another reason you are studying me so intently?” He cleared his throat, unaware of what he was really saying. His mind was having a terrible time keeping to the task at hand.

Elizabeth’s flush spread all the way to her ears.
I have been caught looking at him in such a manner
!
“No, sir,” was all she could say. Her eyes did not stray in his direction again. Serafina wrapped a towel around her, and without another glance, they headed up for the real washing.

She had learned to really love and respect Serafina. The time they spent together was valuable in more ways than one. Elizabeth found herself calmed by Serafina’s inner strength and fortitude. Every interaction left her spirits lighter and more at ease. Serafina also had a talent for making Elizabeth laugh, even during the most absurdly dramatic situation. She also seemed to genuinely care about the relationship between her and William. Today was no different.

“He is a handsome man,” Elizabeth said, and then raised her hand to her mouth in surprise. She had not meant to speak aloud. Serafina smiled widely at her, continuing to help Elizabeth out of her soiled gown. “I am afraid I was caught looking at him, was I not?” She felt a blush coming to her cheeks again.

“Do not fret, madam,” Serafina said reassuringly. “It is about time you two admitted how deeply you care for each other.”

Elizabeth looked down, feeling a little embarrassed to be discussing such a topic. She had been correct, then, in her assumption that the servants, or at least Serafina, knew they had a precarious relationship. But the mud fight had broken down several rules of propriety, and she found she didn’t mind having Serafina talk so boldly to her. “Do you really think he cares so deeply for me?”

Serafina’s hands stopped working, and she reached her hands around to turn Elizabeth’s head, looking her in the eye. “I cannot imagine him loving you any more than he does. Surely you see it too?”

“I have to admit, that is,” Elizabeth said slowly, trying carefully to phrase it best, “I am beginning to suspect it, but he has never declared himself.” She felt like she was talking to Jane back home instead of her servant.

“Men can only do one thing at a time. Their minds are simple. If we give them instructions, we must do so directly and clearly. They do not have complicated thoughts and feelings, which is why his adoration of you is evident. Have you made your feelings known to him?”

“I have to confess that I am not sure of my feelings myself. I know that I respect him and look forward to being with him, and my heart flutters when I am near him and he makes me feel . . . warm and happy. Is that love?”

“I cannot answer that for you. But I can advise you that if you wish to hear how he feels for you, you must be direct and clear. Men need to know exactly what we need from them. I must warn you that when you do decide upon your feelings, you may need to state your wishes directly.”

Elizabeth pondered this advice. Perhaps she would ask him again directly why he married her. That was a direct question, and if he loved her, than he would tell her. “You are a fount of wisdom, Serafina,” she said with a quiet laugh. “Now let us get me clean. I doubt anyone could love me when I smell like this!”

*****

After a lengthy bath, Elizabeth dressed for the day anew in one of her new sprigged muslins. Just as Serafina finished with her hair, Elizabeth heard a familiar jovial laugh downstairs. She followed the sound downstairs. “Richard! I had forgotten you would arrive today!” She hurried down the stairs and embraced him. She had seen much of him in London, and had loved him from the beginning if only because he brought out the smiling eyes of her husband.

“You wound me! What could possibly be so distracting that you forget your favorite cousin?”

Elizabeth colored. “Your beast of a cousin threw me in the mud!”

He let out an enormous laugh. “That is a good one; what is the punch line?”

Mr. Darcy walked in then, hair fresh and wet. “It is no joke, I am afraid. I really pushed her in the mud in the chicken coop.” He saw Richard’s eyes light up with mirth.

“So you finally admit to it?” Elizabeth laughed. She reached her arm out for his and stood close to him, looking up at his now-clean face. She couldn’t suppress a faint giggle at the memory of him covered in mud.

Mr. Darcy held out his hand to stop Richard from speaking. “Stop! I must warn you not to even attempt to uncover the source of her laughter, for this wife of mine is merciless in keeping her secrets!”

Richard laughed again. He could tell there was quite a story behind the words. What amazed him more was seeing how engaging they were. He had seen them in London and worried that his cousin had married someone who was mercenary. It had been clear how Darcy felt about her, but Elizabeth didn’t seem to show the same level of admiration. Seeing her smile, tease, and hold Darcy’s arm like she was currently doing eased his fears a great deal. Perhaps it wasn’t an absence of love on her part after all.
“A chicken coop? Which reminds me . . .”

“Do not tell me you have a joke about a chicken coop?” Darcy groaned.
Although, in truth, as much as he might protest, he did enjoy Richard’s jokes.

“No, not about a coop.
Do you want to know what happened to the chicken whose feathers were turned the wrong way or not?”

Elizabeth smiled and said, “Yes, what happened to the chicken whose feathers were turned the wrong way?”

“It got tickled to death!” He let out a roaring belly laugh, and was quickly joined by all present. Even Darcy laughed.

As Georgiana hurried down the stairs, she called, “Why all the laughter? Did I miss the opening joke?” She rushed in to embrace Richard, and was quickly enveloped in his tender arms. She felt much of her tension drain away as she realized that she was now surrounded by her three favorite people. She tried to hold back the tears, but it seemed impossible to do so when surrounded by so much love.

Colonel Fitzwilliam pulled back, “Dear Georgie, why all the tears? My joke was not that bad, was it?”

“No . . . well, I did not hear it. I am so
sorry, I just cannot believe you are here.” She turned to Elizabeth and tried to smile. “I am such a watering pot!”

They all laughed, the worried air momentarily easing as they settled in to talk eagerly of all that had happened in the past three
weeks. After a short while, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana left to freshen up, but as Darcy and Elizabeth had already done so, they remained in the drawing room.

At first they sat in awkward silence. Elizabeth remembered what Serafina had told her earlier. She must be direct if she wanted him to declare himself. Darcy sought for some neutral topic of conversation, all the while trying not to think about their afternoon together.

With both of their deeper thoughts preoccupied, Darcy opened the conversation. “So how is the Autumn Festival planning going?”

“Very well, we started handing out the invitations today. I will go out again tomorrow but the rest we will just have delivered.” Elizabeth hadn’t been uncomfortable in his presence for a while, but now she felt acutely aware of how her gaze kept returning to the rise and fall of his cravat. “I am excited to see how Pemberley throws a ball.”

Darcy laughed, “It is not a ball in the true sense. But I am sure now that you are here there will be many of opportunities to host a real ball. I have received many letters congratulating me on my marriage and they are all anxious to meet you. I am sure when you are ready we can start having dinner parties. I have even heard from Bingley, who is known for his terrible letter writing habits. He would like me to stand up with him for his wedding in December.” He saw her eyes light up. “Would you like to plan a visit to Longbourn in just over a month?”

“Oh yes! I would not want to
miss Jane’s wedding for anything! I have wanted to ask you if we could go since she asked me to stand up with her before we left Hertfordshire.”

“She asked you before our wedding? Why have you not asked me since then?” Darcy wanted her to feel comfortable with asking him anything. The fact that she hadn’t yet indicated she had not yet opened her heart fully to him, and he found himself troubled by the thought.

Elizabeth noticed the frown and her heart sank. She wanted to see those smiling eyes that she had gotten so used to. “If I am not mistaken, we have talked very little about their engagement. I also did not know what the weather is like in early December. I truly did not know it would even be possible to travel at that time.” She started thinking about the chicks that would be hatching in less than a week. It was the end of October and winter storms started mid-December back home. “When do the winter storms start here?”

He understood that what she was truly asking was if the chicks would survive the winter. “Usually in the beginning of December, but some years it is earlier. During other years like this one, it seems the warm weather holds until nearly Christmas. But I do not believe I have had a Christmas in years that did not have snow.” There, he had said it. Whatever these chicks meant to her, she knows now what to expect.

“So possibly before December or Christmastime? That is either four weeks or eight.”

Darcy leaned forward and touched her hand, “How long does it take for the chicks to get their feathers?” There was no use dancing around what they were really talking about. Bingley’s wedding had nothing to do with the topic.

Elizabeth’s eyes grew tearful. “At least six weeks. But they are not due until next week. Probably the night after the festival.”

Darcy didn’t need his Cambridge mathematics to calculate that unless it remained unusually warm, the chicks would not make it. “Is there anything we can do to help them stay warm until their feathers come in?” If there was, he would do it. He didn’t know why, but they were special to her.

“I have heard of bringing them indoors, but the risk of them not developing the winter resistance is high if we do that. It could harm them more than help them. Sometimes when we think we are helping, our actions make things more difficult. I am afraid the only thing to do is to see if the winter storms will stay away until they are healthy and strong. These things take time. I just wish there was some way to control it, but nature has its own timetable.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand but looked away, her eyes glossing over tears.

More riddles about the chickens? I wish I understood wha
t she was really talking about!

*****

Two days later, Darcy suggested a picnic at his favorite part of the stream. Georgiana declined, and Colonel Fitzwilliam seeing an opportunity to corner Georgiana about the mood he had noticed since he had arrived, declined as well. He was one of her guardians and there was something deeply troubling her. She usually was bright and cheerful around him, but she was being cryptic in her conversations, hardly offering any information nor contributing in any way. He had tried to ask Darcy about it, but Darcy simply shrugged and said he didn’t think it was anything big. Darcy told him Elizabeth had talked with her and never came to him with any concerns.
Well, if she told Elizabeth, then she is certain to tell me.
Colonel Fitzwilliam wished them well and watched them leave.