Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (15 page)

She and three maids were conducting
the yearly inventory, literally knee deep in stacks of neatly folded towels,
sheets, tablecloths, and assorted other linens. With a nod, Mrs. Reynolds took
the letter from Phillips and tucked it into her pocket for careful reading in
the privacy of her office later. While receiving messages from Mr. Darcy
directly to her was not a daily occurrence, it was common enough not to warrant
undue concern. How was she to know it was arguably the most critical and
thrilling letter she had ever gotten from the man she loved almost as if her
own son?

As for Miss Darcy, Rothchilde knew
Mr. Darcy’s sister was riding her horse, but with the immense size of the
estate grounds, delivering the letter was impossible until she returned from
her pleasure jaunt. Thus he was forced to maintain his assigned post hovering
near the door, keeping one eye on the table where the letter to Miss Darcy was
safely stowed. If he had suspected the momentous nature of the pages, he might
well have saddled a horse and ridden out to find her.

Instead, it would be later that
afternoon before either woman tore through the wax seal, and by happenstance
they were reading the news of Darcy’s engagement to Miss Elizabeth Bennet at
the same time.

Mrs. Reynolds,

As always, madam, I open my
correspondence with the warmest of greetings and sincerest regards. I am
confident all is well with Pemberley, pray your health is superb, and trust
Miss Darcy is thriving under your gentle, guiding hand. My faith in the
validity of these three factors arises from my earnest desire, to be sure, yet
is also due to the news I am writing to impart. The momentous, superlative
nature of my announcement will undoubtedly be appreciated to the unparalleled
degree it is worth if nothing is amiss at home. And now that I have, I hope,
sufficiently piqued your curiosity and heightened your anticipation, it is time
to communicate my joy—if it is possible to adequately do so in words
etched onto paper without diverging into poetry. I shall attempt to remain
sensible.

I suspect you have already leaped
ahead to a conclusion. You have perceived my inner thoughts since a child and
instantly perceived my sentiments toward a certain young lady upon meeting her
at Pemberley some weeks ago. Indeed, I speak of Miss Elizabeth Bennet of
Hertfordshire, the most exceptional lady who captured my heart once and
forever. Now I am pleased beyond measure to report that Miss Elizabeth has
acknowledged her heart is equally captured, and furthermore, to my continuing
astonishment and thankfulness to God, she has accepted my proposal of marriage.

Such joy is unprecedented, my
dear Mrs. Reynolds! To you I can uninhibitedly shout of my rapturous happiness
as I can to few others on this earth. Long have I yearned for a relationship
such as my excellent father and mother possessed. Only you, who knew them long
and intimately, can fully appreciate this yearning. Rare it is in our world to
find one’s perfect match, and I know it is not a revelation to you when I
confess that I was beginning to lose hope. My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth has
fully restored my hope and renewed my heart. This alone would be a miracle and
a gift to be treasured. Yet, in Miss Elizabeth—she who will ere long be
Mrs. Darcy—it is not only me who will reap the bounty of hope and
renewal. Pemberley, and all that the word conjures, shall be touched by the
miracle. Not a particle of doubt exists within me that Elizabeth will be a fine
mistress for Pemberley, and that our mutual love and devotion will be a boon.

Poetry surely is the only way to
adequately express my feelings on the subject. Rest assured, madam, that as
easy as it would be for me to pen a missive replete with nothing more than
exaltations, I shall restrain myself. As you likely have surmised, much needs
to be done to prepare the manor for Mrs. Darcy. Our engagement transpired
yesterday, so the benefit of time and reflection I do not yet own. However, I
wanted you to be informed immediately, for the obvious reason of our shared
affection and also because I trust your judgment in proper necessities for my
wife—a topic I am currently woefully ignorant of. I am confident your
leadership, working in concert with Mr. Taylor and the servants, will
accomplish what must be done before we arrive together in late November.

The remaining paragraphs covering
the two sheets of paper contained instructions for cleaning certain chambers
and rearranging furnishings, warnings to anticipate frequent messages and
shipments of merchandise, and permission to spend estate funds liberally on
anything deemed essential or desirable for his future wife. Mrs. Reynolds’s
smile broadened with each passing sentence. True to his pledge, Mr. Darcy
restrained himself, writing in his typical straightforward manner with an
economy of words. A person minimally familiar with a letter from Darcy of
Pemberley might not have noticed the subtle alterations, but Mrs. Reynolds
readily detected a relaxed style to his sentence structure with cheerful and
optimistic word choices. While he never crossed the line into pure romanticism,
stray phrases of love were numerous.  

She read the letter through twice.
Additional readings would be done, methodically, while taking notes to
formulate a concise agenda for the weeks ahead. Discussions with Mr. Taylor and
Mr. Keith and others of the senior staff were requisite and not to be unduly
delayed. Already the housekeeper’s businesslike mind was creating lists and
plotting strategies. She wiped the moisture from her cheeks and tucked the
folded papers into her pocket.

The butler was in the dining room,
as he had been for most of the past week, overseeing the polishing and
inventory of the silver. Like Mrs. Reynolds’s task with the linens, it was
during periods when the master was away that they were able to carry out time-consuming
projects and perform extensive deep cleanings. Nicely coincidental considering
they were now ordered to do precisely that!

“Mr. Taylor, a moment of your time,
please?”

The butler, a distinguished man of
roughly sixty years, accompanied her into the hall, saying nothing until they
were alone. “The letter from Mr. Darcy contained news of substance, I take it.
Was it the favorable report we hoped for?”

“I am most pleased to say that it
was, Mr. Taylor. Mr. Darcy has secured the hand of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and
on twenty-eight November, they are to be wed. We shall soon have a new Mrs.
Darcy.” Mrs. Reynolds attempted to speak composedly, but her emotions could not
be repressed.

“This is excellent news and a
tremendous relief.” Mr. Taylor’s tone remained bland, despite his sentiments
closely paralleling those of Mrs. Reynolds.

Mr. Taylor had worked at Pemberley
since a young boy, rising through the ranks to the top rung as butler, a
position he had flawlessly executed for over thirty years. While never
establishing an intimate relationship with the family he served, as Mrs.
Reynolds had, Mr. Taylor was fiercely loyal. Nothing was more important, to his
way of thinking, than the prosperity of Pemberley, and that, naturally,
depended upon the prosperity of Mr. Darcy. Having never married nor being a
particularly romantic person by nature, Mr. Taylor had spared scant time
considering his master’s preferences on marriage. Mr. Darcy would do so
eventually and produce the required heir to continue the Darcy lineage, was his
opinion on the matter.

When Mrs. Reynolds confidentially
told him that her suspicion as to why the master was distressed to the point of
being ill during the past summer was due to a romantic heartbreak of some sort,
Mr. Taylor had brushed her speculations aside. Surely they were the fancies of
a sentimental female who was far too emotionally involved with the family.
After witnessing Mr. Darcy’s curious behavior while entertaining Mr. and Mrs.
Gardiner and their niece Miss Bennet, Mr. Taylor started to believe the
housekeeper’s claims might have validity.

The concept of a man’s happiness
being wrapped wholly around a single woman was bizarre to the pragmatic butler.
That being said, he had watched the previous Mr. Darcy mourn his wife, Lady
Anne Darcy, until death was the only escape from the unrelenting pain. Despite
his tendency to ignore the private lives of the Darcys, or his own staff if he
could avoid it, he was not a fool. There was no denying the facts that pointed
to young Mr. Darcy being akin to his father. As with the love between Lady Anne
and James Darcy, apparently the love of Miss Bennet was critical to the
wellbeing of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Like it or not, and he assuredly
did
not
like it, Mr. Taylor had spent the past several weeks anxiously praying
for positive news.

“I presume Mr. Darcy has
instructions for us?” he asked.

“He does. I need to speak with Miss
Darcy, and then we can gather the staff to make a formal announcement. Perhaps
you can come to my office at eight to discuss and plan?” Mr. Taylor inclined
his head. “I think a glass of punch is in order, after dinner, of course.” Mrs.
Reynolds smiled at the butler’s raised brows. “It is news worthy of
celebrating, Mr. Taylor.”

“As you wish, Mrs. Reynolds.”

She saved her chuckles at his dry
reply until around the corner.

Now, I must see Georgiana.

“Miss Darcy was given her letter
and went straightaway into the main parlor,” Rothchilde reported, directing his
gaze toward a set of closed doors visible on the balcony level above the
massive grand staircase where they stood. “Mrs. Annesley was already in there,
and still is I believe. No one has exited the room.”

Mrs. Reynolds tapped on the parlor
door, and then laughed aloud when it flew open before her knuckles left the
solid surface.

“Oh, Mrs. Reynolds! Is it not the
most amazing and wonderful news? I am dancing with glee!”

“She means this quite literally,”
interjected an amused voice. “Your timely interruption has undoubtedly saved
the carpet from being worn to threads by her twirls.”

Mrs. Reynolds crossed the
threshold, her laughter lifting at Mrs. Annesley’s teasing remark.

Georgiana blushed but continued to
grin and bounce on her toes.

“I only twirled once,” she started,
and then, at her companion’s raised brow, laughingly amended, “or maybe thrice,
but how could I not? William is to be married, and to Miss Elizabeth! My
happiness is uncontainable! I cannot imagine how he must be feeling, although
his letter reveals much.”

She scanned the pages in her hands.
“Listen to this:
‘My heart is now whole and liberated, dearest sister, and
my joy immeasurable. God has granted me a miracle, a divine gift in gaining
Elizabeth’s love and being entrusted with her heart. It is a fearsome
responsibility, this I know and shall never forget. Ensuring her happiness,
every day of the life God gives us together, is now my supreme purpose. In
striving thus, my life shall be enriched and heart secure.’
Is that not
lovely?”

The response was a duo of sighs.

“There is more: ‘
This morning it
appeared as if the sun had risen with brilliance unmatched at any other time.
Or perhaps, with the awakening of my heart, my eyes now see the simple beauties
of the natural world with a keener light.’
Who knew my brother was so
poetic?”

Mrs. Reynolds opened her mouth to
affirm, but Georgiana barged on.

“This is my favorite, where is it?
Oh, here,
‘…peace and contentment washed through me, Georgie. Hours after
her acceptance, in a place unfamiliar to me, surrounded by people talking and
plates of food, I experienced a profound flood of tranquility every time I met
Elizabeth’s beautiful eyes. I can only liken it to how I feel when at
Pemberley, yet it was deeper still. I tried to envision gazing into her eyes
while dining at Pemberley, as we once did, only this time as my wife, and the
euphoria was too intense.’”

“Mr.
Darcy certainly writes as a man in the throes of passionate love,” Mrs.
Annesley murmured, her expression wistful.

Mrs.
Reynolds wondered if the poetic sentiments sparked memories of the deceased Mr.
Annesley. Heaven knows she was not immune from remembrances of new-love fervor,
and she was twice Mrs. Annesley’s age!

“I
cannot claim to know him well,” Mrs. Annesley added, “but I would not have
suspected his romantic nature.”

“Mr.
Darcy is a dichotomy in many respects.” Mrs. Reynolds sat across from Miss
Darcy’s companion, poured a cup of tea, and explained as she stirred the sugar.
“Always a serious person, even as a boy, yet possessing a sensitive soul and
playfulness as well. Ofttimes the balance between the two has been unequal, I
fear.”

“William
needed someone to bring out his softer side, and who better than Miss
Elizabeth? She is wonderfully lighthearted, compassionate, and beautiful too.
Do you not agree, Mrs. Reynolds?” The housekeeper concurred, although her words
were lost as Georgiana rushed on. “Oh, but it was evident how strong his
feelings toward her! When at Pemberley, she must have noticed how he stammered
and blushed, as I have never seen him do, and the expressions on his face were
altogether tender. Quite revealing. I would have deduced his preference for her
even if he had not told me.”

“Yes,
you have said this before, with the suggestion that Miss Elizabeth did not
initially return his affection. Fortunately, her heart was swayed. The trauma
of unrequited love is harsh.”

“Indeed
it is.” Mrs. Reynolds conceded as her eyes darted to Georgiana, who was reading
the letter again with an elated smile on her face.

Mr.
Darcy had never divulged the finer details of what happened at Ramsgate, Mrs.
Reynolds informed of the barest generalities only. Miss Darcy had never
confided fully either. What she knew was deduced from offhand comments and
reactions to the words of others. That Mr. Wickham had harmed her young lady’s
heart was evident, and such pain can be tortuous to overcome. Observing Miss
Darcy’s joy for her brother, and aware of the pleasant personality of Miss
Bennet, Mrs. Reynolds was doubly thankful for Mr. Darcy’s engagement. The
benefits promised to ripple through all of them at Pemberley.