Chapter Five

Chapter Four

Elizabeth ground her teeth and glared at the plump velvet cushions of the Darcy coach.

Send me Georgiana's master to teach me French will he.

Make me use his cousin's dressmaker will he.

Maybe, just maybe , Mr. Darcy should have thought about how wholly unsuitable she would be as his wife before he kissed her without so much as a "by your leave".

I should have slapped him instantly .

And then she remembered why she hadn't. How she had enjoyed the touch of his lips, then and last night.

That was an even less acceptable thought, which left Elizabeth clenching her jaw harder.

"Miss Lizzy, are you well?"

Mary tapped her shoulder. The woman had been in charge of the hair of the Bennet daughters since Jane had turned fifteen, and so of course she still called Elizabeth "Miss Lizzy", and not Mrs. Darcy. And she could see very well that her mistress was tense and angry.

Elizabeth forced a false smile and fake happiness. "What in your view is necessary to make a purchase of before we head north to Derbyshire? I have been informed that we will only remain in London for a week."

"Only a week?" Mary replied. "That is not enough time for dressmakers to prepare anything."

"No dresses," Elizabeth replied with a smile. "I will happily enough simply wear what I already have, and you can modify as needed to make things more matronly. We'll order a few pieces in Derbyshire. That is decided then."

"You are Mrs. Darcy now," Mary replied. "Do you not wish to look the part?"

"No, I do not," was Elizabeth's quick and almost petulant reply. "We'll see what is necessary."

At first Elizabeth had planned to wend her way out alone on foot. She'd planned on a long comforting walk followed by the bookstores, and maybe a millinery along Bond Street, before she called on her aunt. However everyone amongst the staff — Mrs. North the housekeeper, Mr. Smith the butler, Fred and George, the footmen, and of course coachman John — was so wholly shocked by the incomprehensible image in their minds of Mrs. Darcy alone in the metropolis, without a vast array of people ready to show the livery of the house and carry her parcels, that in the end Elizabeth dropped her apparently unsuitable scheme of walking , and agreed to take the coach.

Now she decided to go straight to the Gardiners' residence instead of relieving her emotions by shopping. In her present state of mind reading would be no pleasure, and memory of her father's words made it impossible for her to take joy again in shopping for clothes, and London was too familiar to her for her to find any appeal in the sort of intent tourism that rural persons from remote corners of the kingdom habitually engaged in when they first arrived in the capital.

If she wished to have any new clothing made for her, even if it would need to be sent along after for a final fitting in Derbyshire, she would need to have the orders made at once. So, Elizabeth had taken Mary along for the hope of her advice as the one who would be dressing her. Despite her antipathy to the prospect, she would regret it if she did not acquire a few dresses built in a more "Mrs. Darcy" style than what her current wardrobe offered.

They reached the fine house that her uncle kept on Gracechurch Street. It was across from a market square and down the road from his Cheapside warehouse.

Elizabeth was helped out of the carriage by the eager hand of the footman. She had to suppress an irrational irritation — she was fully capable of hopping out without aid — and then walked to the familiar red painted oak door. She lifted her hand to knock. And then hesitated.

With such a short time between when her engagement with Mr. Darcy had been established and when the state of holy matrimony had been embarked upon, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had not been able to arrange to be present at Longbourn for the wedding. In any case Elizabeth had known that the plan was to go to London following the wedding, and at a later date to continue to Pemberley.

Why had he not told her the details of the plan?

They had not talked. Only two awkward and stilted conversations under the sour observation of her father between when Darcy dutifully presented himself to ask the patriarch's permission to wed his daughter, and when they vowed obedience and care, till death did them part.

Impatience in a lover was generally considered a good thing. Given that Mr. Darcy had at no point acted in the manner of an ordinary courting gentleman — except perhaps last night, when he came into her bedroom — Elizabeth thought that if she had been in his position, she would have tried to prolong the whole matter as long as she could. Perhaps some accident would have allowed him to avoid the unwanted entanglement, and he clearly had dreaded the prospect of being tied to her .

Elizabeth still stared at her uncle's door.

Cold sharp wind, overcast sky.

The endless clacking as dozens of carriages and hundreds of busy persons hurried up and down the street. Cawing gulls heard from the river. Newspaper boys shouting in the market. The smell of rotting fish and meat pies.

She liked London and had always liked that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were eager to let Elizabeth and Jane be resident with them for a month or two at a time.

Elizabeth took in her hand the cold brass of the knocker. She must look ridiculous.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

It was the presence of her new entourage that made her hesitate.

Mary, who stood behind her, had twice been to the Gardiners' house before while attending on Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. She was nothing strange.

But the footman in Darcy livery who stood attentively behind, a fine tall specimen of a man, with excellent calves shown off by his breeches and stockings. That was different. The carriage with its fine horses and gold embossing.

She was not Lizzy Bennet come to visit her favorite relations.

She was Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, deigning to condescend so far as to reaffirm the family connection with her lesser relations.

Elizabeth had not mentioned her decided plan to visit her aunt when Mr. Darcy asked her about what she intended to do today because she had half a fear that he'd tell her to not call so quickly upon the tradesmen.

Damn him .

That extra rush of resentment burned through her chest as the door opened, and the familiar face of one of Mrs. Gardiner's housemaids greeted her.

"Miss Lizzy! I mean Mrs. Darcy. Congratulations. We all have heard of your recent marriage, and Mr. Gardiner gave us all a half crown, and shared out a cake to celebrate yesterday."

"Thank you. Has my uncle already gone to his business?"

"Yes, but Mrs. Gardiner is present."

"In the drawing room? — no need to show me the way."

The maid smiled and bobbed a little bow to Elizabeth and offered refreshments to the Darcy footman and Mary as they trailed into the house behind her.

Children shouted and laughed in the drawing room as she came up the hall, and Mrs. Gardiner laughingly told Johnny — the youngest — to put the book back.

Smiling wider than she had in weeks, Elizabeth opened the door and snuck in.

"Lizzy!" Betsy, Mrs. Gardiner's oldest child, exclaimed. "Cousin Lizzy!"

All of the children ran up to her for hugs and smiles. That is except for Johnny, who was still at that age where he was scared for twenty minutes whenever he met a person he did not see every week or so. Elizabeth handed out from her bag leftover lemon tarts she'd stolen from the Darcy kitchens, or perhaps more accurately, rightfully taken from them. Following that she also gave over ribbons and a book that Betsy had mentioned she wanted to read last time Elizabeth visited the family.

"Calling on us very early in the morning." Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "But you do look well. Should I give you congratulations?"

In her letter to her aunt Elizabeth had given all of the details of the situation that had led to her engagement, and most of the details of the argument that had followed with her father. There were things he had said, things her father had called her that she was unwilling to share in any detail with anyone.

But Mrs. Gardiner was better informed upon the whole of the story than anyone else, including Jane.

Elizabeth shrugged at the question of whether she was to be congratulated. She was married, and that was the settled fresh thing. She sat down, surrounded by the children who all asked about Mr. Darcy, about things that she might give them, and about how long she would be in London.

"Only a week," was Elizabeth's reply. "But I promise to visit at least every other day and take you all out to Hyde Park in the big carriage. Even if the weather does not permit you to play, we can promenade back and forth on Rotten Row."

"Oooooh. Is it a very big carriage?" That question was from Emma, one of the twins.

"Far too big for all sense," Elizabeth promised.

Thomas, the other twin, gave Elizabeth a big hug, and then asked if he could ride in the box with the coachman.

"Of course you might."

She had been forced to marry a disagreeable man who despised her and her family at least as much as he desired her. But he was wealthy, and she could honestly enjoy being able to entertain her little cousins with some of that wealth.

"So, you are only here for a week. And you came directly to us."

"Of course," Elizabeth replied to Mrs. Gardiner. "Where else would I want to come first in London?"

"A bookstore," was Betsy's immediate reply.

Elizabeth laughed. "That was in fact my first notion, but I shall need your aid to decide which books to purchase. Mr. Darcy already owns a great many books both here and in Pemberley, and I am deathly afraid that anything I buy will be a third copy. Betsy, I shall depend upon you to make certain that anything I acquire can profitably be given over to your family if it develops that there is no call for me to keep a copy."

"How many books does he have?" Betsy asked.

"Very, very many," Elizabeth replied confidently, though she had in fact not even seen the library in Darcy House here in London — let alone the very large promised one in Pemberley.

Mrs. Gardiner had a worried look as she studied her.

Apparently, the mask of good cheer that she had put on for the children was rather thin.

"I imagine you have a great many clothes you plan to order, and that you will need to begin today."

"Not so many." The pretense of happiness frayed further. The memory of Papa's words. "I don't plan to spend much."

"Aren't you plump, plump, plump in pocket?" Emma asked. "That's what Sarah said about Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth laughed. "That I have the money to spend on many fine clothes does not mean that I intend to spend it."

"Sensible?" Mrs. Gardiner asked.

"When have I ever been sensible, Auntie," Elizabeth said smiling. "Might you have liberty this morning to go shopping with me? — much as I hate the necessity, I need a few dresses that can be sent after me to Pemberley."

"Can I come! Can I come!" That was the refrain of both Betsy and Emma. They were promised that they could — even though it would set their lessons behind where they ought to be.

And off they went, using Darcy's carriage to go to the shops on Bond Street that Mrs. Gardiner preferred. Elizabeth had placed in her reticule the note with the names and addresses of the places that Darcy's cousin had recommended for her. Every time she opened her bag and noticed the folded white paper still sitting in it, she felt a low simmering of resentment.

How dare he assume she could not dress herself.

She fully intended to never keep herself in fine clothes the way that Mr. Darcy seemed to expect her to. It was stupid, Papa would never admit he had misjudged her, but she would prove to herself that he was wrong, and that she had not married Darcy for the sake of the fine clothes and fine carriages. The carriages came with the position, and she could not refuse them, the clothes she could.

The whole time Elizabeth was at the dressmaker, she was keenly aware of the price of everything, and the budget she had set herself. Fifty pounds a year on clothes. That was in fact more than what she had usually spent in a year, but it was not a great sum next to the needs of a whole new wardrobe for life in Derbyshire as Mrs. Darcy.

Mrs. Gardiner watched her bicker over prices, refuse all of the finer laces and jewelry, and her determination to mostly buy adjustable pieces that she would wear often, rather than the more ordinary habit of great ladies who sometimes disdained to be seen in the same clothes more than once in a season.

Each time she caught sight of her aunt's worried frown Elizabeth felt as though she was being petty, and perhaps a fool. But she had told Papa that she would never spend more than fifty in a year on clothes, and so she wouldn't.

When they returned to the house, Mrs. Gardiner put the children back into the care of their nurse and the maids, and she took Elizabeth to the side for tea and a more serious conversation.

"Because of your unhappiness about Mr. Bennet?" That was the first thing Mrs. Gardiner asked.

"I'm glad the rain waited until we got back," Elizabeth replied. "Pouring now."

"Do you have enough allowance? — I assumed that you would, even under these circumstances. The pride of the Darcy house made me anticipate that he would insist all the more on being seen as ensuring that his wife was provided up to the normal standard when she did not bring any fortune to the marriage."

"You do not wish to discuss this lovely weather?"

"Neither do you," Mrs. Gardiner replied tartly.

Elizabeth laughed. "I honestly do not know how much has been assigned for my personal funds. The negotiations over the settlement were handled between Papa and Mr. Darcy, I was neither invited, nor did I make an effort to force myself into the room. And neither of those unworthy gentlemen made any effort to inform me of their contents."

"Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner said disapprovingly. "Money matters are always serious, and ought to be treated with an appropriate solemnity."

"Lord! If you could have only heard the solemnity with which my mother greeted the discovery that a daughter of hers would marry a man with ten thousand a year. A most solemn reaction."

"I am not speaking of your mother. As much as I love her, she is not always sensible."

"Then why should you expect me to be sensible? I am her child. I want nothing to do with this ill-earned fortune. I married him to protect my sisters. It would… it would be…"

Elizabeth sighed.

"You are proud. You want to prove that you do not deserve the calumny of being a fortune hunter that has been thrown upon you. The whole thing was poorly managed. I think that if your father had been sensible, the marriage could have been avoided."

"What, even after having been seen in an embrace with him in an empty room? Impossible to end anything with my character intact — these tea biscuits are quite perfect. I always say that to Mama, but our cook could never manage to get them quite the same."

"Matters that seem wholly serious when you are young and in the midst of them often are forgotten by all parties after a time."

"No, but would you not prefer to talk about the tea biscuits? Why is it so hard to get the texture quite right?"

"We buy them fresh from a stall famed for it in Leadenhall. The advantage of the city." Mrs. Gardiner paused. "It is said that the countryside is more healthful, more natural, and more virtuous than the city. Yet the city has many advantages, such as truly excellent tea biscuits. That is a key to human happiness. To look at the situation one finds oneself in, and—"

"I will not. You are right that it is a matter of my pride. And of course I did marry him. And I did not and do not love him. And everyone will look at me with a rightful disdain. But I care not. My pride. He has pride, as well, and we'll be matched in that. I said to Papa I would not spend more than fifty a year on my clothing, and I will not."

Mrs. Gardiner poured more steaming tea from the flowered pot into her cup, dropped a square of sugar in. "Before now I had always liked to hope that my children would always keep the thought of me deep in their hearts, even once they had married."

Elizabeth laughed. "I still am determined, even if by doing this I give my father and his words more concern than they deserve."

"And did you — tell me of Mr. Darcy and your marriage to him. He is a Darcy, and an honorable man, I think—"

"I do not believe he is in fact honorable. His father's godson, Mr. Wickham, told me that he refused to give him a living that was promised by his father."

Mrs. Gardiner frowned, and then shrugged. "A powerful man is likely to gain some enemies. We should chiefly judge Mr. Darcy upon the actions we have directly observed. He was honorable enough to marry you despite the difference of fortune."

"They saw him kissing me! What choice did he have?"

"To refuse. Your father would not have challenged him to a duel. And even if Mr. Bennet had pressed the matter in such a way, nothing would have forced Mr. Darcy to make an offer of marriage."

"He had his motives…" Mrs. Gardiner raised her eyebrow. Elizabeth flushed. It was very clear to her now that Darcy strongly desired her, and that would have been an additional motivation, besides the demands of honor, to carry through with the marriage. "Mr. Wickham gave every particular — persons, names, even the year in which such things happened. Mr. Darcy, he would not say anything, no matter how I importuned him." Elizabeth stared at the blue flowers on her Wedgewood teacup. "We were arguing upon the matter when he kissed me."

"Oh, ho." Mrs. Gardiner put her teacup down. "That was not in your letter."

"I wanted to make him explain… or maybe… I don't know. I was not wholly sober. I cannot speak for the reasoning that caused us to argue about Wickham once more, and then retreat to the library to discuss the matter at greater length. He absolutely refused to explain. He only said that Wickham had received all he deserved and then more."

"Perhaps it is because my memory of the reputation of the Darcy family blinds me, but from all you have said, I am inclined to assume he had a good reason for everything he did."

"From that ?" Elizabeth replied laughing. "How?"

"Would you explain that you ordered so few dresses chiefly to spite your father in response to the question of someone who was not a dear acquaintance?"

"No…" Elizabeth felt uncomfortable. She wouldn't explain it to most of her dear acquaintances either. Her aunt's point was… a good one. "But we are now married, and he still has explained nothing of his behavior with Mr. Wickham."

"You wished that to be the chief component of your wedding night?"

Elizabeth's face went very red.

The way she'd been so scared when she tapped on the door. The way he had squeezed her against his body. His seeking hungry lips. How he'd tasted her neck. The way that he'd moaned her name, Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy.

"You liked the wedding night then." Mrs. Gardiner exhaled in relief. "I was worried."

"From that you derive that I—"

"A blushing bride. Quite embarrassed by the events of the past day, but not displeased."

Elizabeth grinned. "It was certainly not unpleasant . Well except for the first bit. There was some unpleasantness there . But beyond that… he fell asleep next to me."

"Good."

Elizabeth blushed and looked down, deeply embarrassed. She asked the lines of the grain in the wooden table, "Do you and Mr. Gardiner sleep together?"

"Usually." Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "I think it is good when a couple does."

"It was so strange. So…" Elizabeth could not look up. She twisted the teaspoon around her fingers. "He is very handsome."

"I hope to meet him."

"I will insist he calls on you." Elizabeth growled. "I do not care if the scent of tradesmen makes him vomit, you are dear to me. So very dear. I will not—"

"Lizzy. Focus on that which you can control, and that which is good. If Mr. Darcy will not call on us, you should accept that and not use it as a reason to become angry."

Elizabeth looked out the window that faced out into the inner courtyard that was shared with the neighboring houses. The rain lashed the ground, creating big puddles filled with large bubbles.

She watched one of those bubbles waiting to see it pop by going too close to the sides of the puddle or getting hit by another raindrop.

It took nearly a minute before it disappeared.

"Papa just didn't believe me."

Mrs. Gardiner took Elizabeth's hand and squeezed it.

"I always thought he'd believe in me. And Mama! If she had just… just kept quiet. Lady Lucas did see, but she… wouldn't have spread stories. Sometimes… I sometimes hate them both."

"And now you are isolated from them, and all your family, and you will go far away from anyone you know in just a week."

"I wish he hadn't married me! I wish he'd just run back to his great estate, and left the rumors behind, and then nothing would have changed." Elizabeth pressed her hands against her cheeks. "I don't want to cry."

Mrs. Gardiner embraced her tightly. "My dear Lizzy. You are brave, you are strong, and you will do well."

Elizabeth suddenly found herself sobbing.

"Dear, dear sweet. Dear, dear Lizzy. There, there. There, there."

"I don't want to leave town so fast. I thought… thought it would be only after the New Year. And then I'll be meeting his uncle, the Lord of Matlock. And, and — I'll have to host an earl, and the rest of his family. And they'll look at me, and judge . It doesn't matter what I do, I won't be who they wanted. I don't care . I don't . I didn't choose this. But they all think I did. Oh! Why did I ever say a word to Mr. Darcy? Ever? Why did he ever need to come to my neighborhood!"

Mrs. Gardiner rubbed her hand in soothing circles around her back.

"He never even asked me! He never even asked me if I wanted to marry him. They all just assumed."

"I know."

"And don't tell me that I should not think this way. That I should focus on what is happy and good in the situation. I know — Lord! I should never have… I should have run yesterday. When he came up to me in the church, and the vicar asked ‘Do you have this man' — I stared at h—"

Elizabeth laughed.

"All I'd say is talk to him. Make him your friend, and come to know him, who he really is. Try to let go of your preconceptions and expectations."

Elizabeth groaned again, and then, hearing the clock ring the hour, realized she ought to return home, in case Mr. Darcy had returned early from his business, like he had suggested he would.

Oddly though, this conversation had left her feeling enormously better than she had an hour earlier .