Authors: Elizabeth Ann West
“A thousand thanks. Are there any powders left in my trunk?” Becky nodded and rushed to Elizabeth’s private toiletry case to find the last packet of powders given to her by the apothecary in London. Without her habitual morning walk, the headaches Elizabeth sustained as a child were returning in full force. She was adamant that in the morning she would find a way to walk in the elegant gardens even if it meant she needed to tie the bed sheets and scale the balcony to avoid Lady Matlock and her endless teachings of running an estate the size of Matlock.
“Here you are, Miss Elizabeth. I’ll send young Robin around to the town to purchase more. Mr. Darcy surely won’t want you to be without your remedy.”
“Please send a note to Mr. Darcy’s valet that I intend to take a walk in the morning and would be so very pleased if his master would join me.”
“Aye, ma’am.” Becky curtsied and smiled. Knowing Miss Elizabeth since childhood had helped her tremendously in her transition from house maid to lady’s maid. Though the rest of the above stairs staff at Matlock sniffed at her lack of credentials and formal training, she knew that Miss Elizabeth would never desire an unknown, snobby French maid, no how.
Elizabeth lay on the elegant cool sheets, wishing she could disrobe to her chemise, but if it was one thing she’d learned from her aunt before leaving, it was that house parties as large and elite as this one could quickly become dangerous grounds for maidens. She trusted Lady Matlock with her safety, but for the past two nights, she had not enjoyed the particular attentions of Lord Bergamote, a man of French ancestry staying with relations in Southern England, and she suspected that William had enjoyed those attentions even less so.
Rolling onto her side away from the door, she closed her eyes. Taking calming breaths, she willed the powders to begin working. After what felt like an eternity, she finally drifted off to sleep.
When Elizabeth woke hours later, the room was dark, and she cried out from fear of not knowing where she was. Her head still ached, but it was mostly a dull pain. Rubbing her eyes, she adjusted her vision to the darkened room and began to panic. She remembered where she was and threw the bed curtains to the side. How they had become closed, she didn’t know, because she hadn’t closed them. Stumbling around to light a candle, she called for Becky, but no answer came.
Finally lighting a candle, Elizabeth realized she was in her chemise and she hurriedly found her evening gown still laid out on the chair. Lady Matlock would be so furious with her if she had missed such an important dinner due to an inept servant. The disapproval from everyone she could imagine made her flustered, and she knocked the stack of books on her bureau while trying to reign in her unruly curls and wash her face off at the same time. She wasn’t sure how she was going to secure the dress in the back and hoped Becky returned soon. The crash must have alerted others she was awake because her bedroom door opened a swift moment later and Mary rushed in.
“Lizzie, what on earth are you doing?”
“What does is appear that I am doing? I’m trying to hurry and dress for dinner! I’m so late!”
Mary clucked her tongue and gently pulled the hair brush from Elizabeth’s hand. “It’s eleven o’clock in the evening. I was just retiring when I heard the crash, and I worried you had fallen out of bed.”
“I missed dinner?” Elizabeth cried, thoroughly panicked now. This was just like Netherfield all over again. She pressed her fingers to her head and cursed the plague of migraines that she inherited from Grandmother Bennet.
“Sssh, ssssh, it’s all been resolved. When your maid told Mr. Darcy’s valet you were ill, he asked me to see to you. You were writhing in pain, even as you slept, so Becky and I helped you undress as you did not wake. I made my report to Mr. Darcy and he decided that you were not to be disturbed.”
“Oh, that’s far worse!” Elizabeth began to pound her fists on her head, both to stop the buzzing and in complete frustration. Her first attempt and she had failed to be strong enough to play hostess.
Mary looked at Elizabeth with confusion. Her older sister was behaving most oddly, and she wasn’t used to seeing the woman she looked up to so vulnerable. “Would you stop that caterwauling?” Shocked by the most impressive imitation of her father’s favorite refrain, Elizabeth opened her teary eyes to look at Mary. “Have you completely lost your senses? Mr. Darcy was so caring and thoughtful to make sure you were attended and left to recover.”
“Yet I have failed him! I keep trying to learn it all, but every day I am more and more confused. Just trying to remember the names of the maids who maintain the fireplaces over the maids who clean the linens and then there’s the footmen for each room, and the menus, and the activities planned for each day. . .”
“Elizabeth Rose Bennet, you have gone over the moon. Get back into that bed this instant.” Mary strong armed her sister to guide her to the bed and helped her out of the partially donned evening gown. “Lady Matlock is merely exposing you to what you will undoubtedly experience at Pemberley. You are not expected to run Matlock after only three days of instruction, nor will you be expected to run Pemberley. Lord have mercy, but did it not occur to you that Mr. Darcy’s estate has run just fine without you lo these many years?”
Elizabeth blinked a few times and considered her sister’s words. Of course Mr. Darcy’s homes had run without a hitch before he met her. When had she thought to place all of this pressure on herself? Sighing, Mary became more tender and began to stroke the sweaty, matted hair from Elizabeth’s forehead. “Are you hungry? I’ll have Becky fetch a tray.”
“Where is she? I called for her.”
“She is downstairs with Molly and Sally learning from Lady Matlock’s lady’s maid. All of our maids Mr. Darcy hired are receiving instruction about the new expectations for our dress.”
“Do not tax her then. I certainly don’t want us both plagued with headaches. I shall simply eat a hearty breakfast.” Mary nodded and found her way to the dressing room to remove her own dress. Elizabeth sat up in her bed on her elbows to see what Mary was doing. Mary shook her pinned hair out, and turned to look at Elizabeth as she placed it into a simple plait.
Shrugging, she looked down at her feet. “I know I’m not Jane. I just thought perhaps you’d prefer to not sleep alone tonight?”
Feeling the younger sister, even though she was not, Elizabeth grinned and nodded. Mary shared the giggle and hopped into bed to snuggle down in the cool sheets. As Elizabeth drifted off to sleep for the second time, her less pained mind began to wonder just when had Mary become so rational and how had she missed the transition?
The next morning in London, Mrs. Gardiner wished her husband a great day at work and farewelled him after breakfast. Mr. Gardiner called the carriage as his business that morning would take him all the way to the docks as his second vessel was due to berth. Anchored in the channel, he had just paid the fees and wished to be present as full inventory of his wares from the boat to the warehouse were conducted. A key component to his family’s success in trade was his fastidiousness in seeing to his own affairs, though he did include his head clerk, Albert, in learning the methods of his madness.
Pausing on the steps of his town home, Mr. Gardiner squinted at the bright sunlight piercing the dim fog that was so common. Tipping his hat to a passerby, he felt cheered that his wife had felt the movement of their fifth babe just that morning. With the expansion plans on his desk, he might be able to purchase a small estate for Madeline and the children in the next year or so. His jubilation added a bounce to his step as he took the four steps down to the street and addressed his driver before entering his carriage.
“Morning, Pierce,” he said. Mr. Pierce, husband of the children’s nanny, doffed his hat to his employer and made a low “Whoa,” sound to keep the horses in line. They were already stamping their hooves and whinnying when he finally clicked his tongue to signal them to begin the drive.
The last thing Mr. Gardiner managed to do that morning was raise the shade before everything went terribly, terribly wrong. Just turning the second corner of his journey, his horses took off like a shot and he could hear yells and calls as the carriage took another turn before flipping onto its side and crashing. Mr. Gardiner tumbled inside of the carriage and thought he could somehow feel dirt on his face before he passed out.
A hundred miles away, Elizabeth Bennet and Mary Bennet were taking turns in Matlock’s well manicured gardens when they came upon Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth smiled and winked at her co-conspirator, and the girls happily separated to take the offered arms of the gentlemen.
“It would appear that those who rise the earliest enjoy the greatest peace,” Mary remarked.
“Are you usually an early riser by rule, Miss Mary, or have you simply changed your habits due to the large nature of the party?”
“Neither. And it is impolite for you to inquire about my sleeping habits, sir,” she said cooly, realizing the truth could not be the answer she gave.
The colonel frowned at the sudden coyness of a lady he greatly admired, but knew for a man to understand the moods of a woman was a lost battle at its start. They remained silent for a spell after he apologized and walked a few paces behind the future Darcys.
“How are you this morning, my darling? I was so frightened that you were truly ill.” Mr. Darcy jumped right to the subject Elizabeth had hoped most to avoid, and she sighed in response.
“I’m well. When I do not find a way to exercise, I suffer from debilitating headaches in the evening. It’s a family trait, I’m afraid, and the real reason why I’m such a ‘very accomplished walker.’”
“Hmm, perhaps in the future we shall find new forms of exercise to keep you well,” Mr. Darcy mused in a near whisper, causing Elizabeth’s breath to catch.
Her cheeks burning, she felt it wise to find a new line of discussion immediately. “Tell me about your parents. Did they have as long an engagement?”
“Longer, I’m afraid. My parents were an arranged marriage. The Matlock estate needed funds and my father had them. He was nearly fourteen years senior to my mother.”
“Poor Lady Anne! Excuse me, I don’t mean to say that your father was a poor match, but I don’t know many young women who would relish marrying a man so much older.”
Darcy shrugged his shoulders and whipped an errant weed with his walking stick. “No offense is taken. My parents were kind to one another, but they were not a love match. I am not ignorant that my father’s many dalliances weighed heavily on my mother.”
The brute honesty her future husband was sharing with her was a mild upset to Elizabeth, but then again, they had not enjoyed much time in private. Once they were married, they would have ample time for private conversation and his frankness would be a part of him to which she would become accustomed. As she looked over her shoulder, she could see that the colonel and Mary were very far away and much further, they might be out of the bounds of propriety. “Mr. Darcy. . .”
“Fear not, we are safe. My cousin and I have an accord. And I suspect he might be attempting a small amount of courting himself.”
Elizabeth giggled and covered her mouth. She found Mr. Darcy attempting to steer her towards a stone bench in the far corner, but her muscles were just feeling warmed up. Instead, she tugged his arm to beg another lap around the outside lane of the garden maze. “I thought Mary might be sweet on the colonel, but lately, I’m not so sure.”
“Well, I am confident my cousin can navigate the paths of his own love life. Tell me what led you to become so violently ill last night. I know you cannot be telling me all; you’ve missed your walk many a day during our engagement and I’ve never seen you so pale as yesterday afternoon.”
Again, Elizabeth quickened her pace in agitation and didn’t answer right away. “Elizabeth?” he asked, expectantly.
“Yes, I shall answer, I simply was commuting my feelings into words.” She squeezed his arm with her own and noticed he smiled at her gesture. Bravely, she took a deep breath and released it. “I am afraid to say I am nervous about not measuring up to being the illustrious Mrs. Darcy. I shouldn’t feel so, as my sister Mary pointed out last night that your homes have run just fine for many years without a mistress, but so much has changed for me, and more changes are on the horizon. Occasionally, my desire to be the very best person I can be turns into a dark and twisted voice of failure.”
Immediately at her confession, Mr. Darcy stopped their forward progress and turned Elizabeth to face him. Frustrated that one of his hands still held his blasted walking stick, with his free hand he carefully stroked her cheek with the crook of his gloved finger. “You will always be the best wife for me. Never doubt.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned her chin up in hopes to feel the burn of Mr. Darcy’s lips on her own, but the joking tone of the colonel ruined the moment. The scowl on her face was most involuntary, but she schooled her expression before facing her future cousin.
“Ho, ho, good thing we arrived so quickly. Miss Mary, it appears we are the most perfect of chaperones there ever were.” Richard smiled jovially to the young woman beside him, but Mary only gave him a half smile. Releasing her arm from the colonel, she reclaimed her sister’s arm in a clear signal the walk was over.
“And at least one of us will see to it that our chaperoning skills continue to keep young couples polite.” Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle at her sister as she followed her lead and looked over her shoulder to wink at Mr. Darcy. The two gentlemen were standing in nearly the same spot as where they had met the young women, and they watched as their lithe forms crossed the grounds back towards the house.