Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley (18 page)

Lizzy looked to Darcy in question. "This is Montagu House, home to the British Museum, dearest. During the morning hours, the doors are only opened for private parties. Today that is us, and a few others of course, but it should not be crowded."

Lizzy was speechless with excitement. Of all the places they could have gone, the British Museum was by far the most appreciated. Unable to voice her thankfulness, she instead squeezed his arm tightly, briefly leaning her head onto his shoulder. Darcy smiled and patted her hand, ascending the grand staircase.

They were met by an elegant, elderly gentleman whom Darcy introduced as the curator, Mr. Ellington. "All has been arranged to your specifications, Mr. Darcy. If I may," he turned to Lizzy and bowed, saying, "I do hope your first visit to our humble museum is the highlight of your birthday, Mrs. Darcy."

"Thank you, Mr. Ellington. I cannot express how exciting this is for me. The reputation of the British Museum is stellar and, I am certain, completely warranted."

The three hours they rambled through the museum were unbelievable. To intimately view artifacts only read about was an experience transcending Lizzy's wildest imaginings. For Darcy it was a compounded delight to observe his wife's breathless wonder and to retrace it all, as four years had passed since he last toured. The libraries consisting of rare books, maps and charts, plays and music, and prints and drawings were vast, and they could easily have spent all day exploring the numerous collections. Room upon room housed the myriad of antiquities from the farthest reaches of the globe, spanning centuries of time, and a massive array of artifacts. There were statues, paintings, gems, minerals, coins, relics, clothing, military devices, armaments, and more. It almost became unbearable and futile to attempt assimilating it all.

Darcy worried that Lizzy would overtax herself, especially noting her apparently boundless enthusiasm to see it all. Midway through the morning he insisted they retire to the upper story, where a secluded, windowed alcove had been arranged with comfortable chairs and a table laden with refreshments. The window was open, a gentle breeze blowing, fresh fragrant flowers nearby in tall vases, and an incredible panoramic view of the spectacular gardens gracing the rearward side of Montagu House. Lizzy had resisted leaving the splendors below them, but once she beheld the assorted foods, she realized she was famished, her stomach releasing a loud growl.

Darcy, always amused at how pregnancy had turned his normally dainty and sparsely consuming wife into a ravenous gorger, merely smiled and poured the wine. For a time, Lizzy was far too intent on eating to speak, but gradually she slowed her intake rate and the words fell over each other in their haste. Darcy could not have interjected had he wished to, so effluent was she in her zeal. Not bothered in the least, he happily sat back, nibbling a bit and sipping his wine, but primarily delighting in observing her joy.

"I cannot decide which I adored the most! My father would faint away at the books and manuscripts. Oh, William, we must induce him to come here! I do not think he realizes how amazing the museum is"--she quickly paused for breath and a sip of wine--"the Rosetta Stone! So huge! I had no idea it was that large. The commentaries and sketches certainly do not motivate the proper visualization." Another caesura for a bite of cheese and a drink was taken before she continued. "The Egyptian artifacts... astounding! The mummy and the coffin and all the jewels and statues." She shook her head in awe. "It is nearly too much to endure."

"We have yet to visit the Greek and Roman wings, beloved."

"All this under one roof, albeit a large one. Yet, is not this museum relatively modest compared to the Louvre?" Darcy nodded affirmative. "Well, it boggles the mind. I do not think my heart or mind could digest more. I already feel as if I have forgotten half of what I have recently scrutinized!"

"Prepare yourself, my love. Someday we will travel to the Louvre and all of France, Italy, Spain, wherever you wish. In the mean time..." He purposefully trailed off, reaching under the draped table, and removed two more gifts, one relatively small and the other generous.

Lizzy smiled and clapped her hands, too captivated by the general enthusiasm of it all to pretend embarrassment. The small package revealed a stunning handheld folding fan of ornately carved ash, silk fabric painted with intertwined roses and lilacs, and edged with a narrow strip of lace. She fluttered it before her face, flirting over the top until Darcy dissolved in laughter.

The larger box contained a simple but sturdily constructed backgammon board of wood with polished stone pieces. "William, it is beautiful, but we have boards at Pemberley and Darcy House."

"Not in our sitting room. This is for us to play in the evenings or whenever the mood strikes you to suffer defeat." He grinned.

Lizzy snorted. "I do believe our last overall count was fifteen to ten in my favor, dearest husband. You have the worst luck at dice. Thankfully, you do not gamble or we may be forced to sell some of your clothing to survive." They both laughed, Darcy unable to argue regarding his vast wardrobe--a fact Lizzy delighted in teasing him over--nor about his luck at dice.

Another delightful hour and a half was spent in the halls displaying the Greek and Roman antiquities. There was still much yet to see, but Lizzy reluctantly confessed to beginning fatigue, so they called for the landau. Lizzy reclined gratefully into the plush cushions, again affecting blindness to the two gifts sitting on the opposite seat. Darcy gathered her against his chest, telling her to rest for now. She closed her eyes, settling into a mild doze.

A strong smell of freshly sawn wood coupled with a brisk, moist breeze roused Lizzy moments before Darcy gently kissed her forehead and whispered her name. "Where are we now?" She peaked out the window to catch a glimpse of the Thames passing behind the spacious warehouses lining the avenue they currently drove on. "Are we to go swimming in the Thames?" She turned to him with a laugh.

Darcy smiled. "Hardly. Ah, here we are." The carriage halted in front of an especially enormous building, one of several encompassing an immense courtyard. The noise of hammers, saws, and other tools Lizzy had no name for accompanied the boisterous voices with occasional cursing intermingled of a multitude of men. A sign with scrolling words declared the establishment as
Tillbury's Fine Coaches
. "Stay here Elizabeth," he said, and without another word he leapt out of the landau and strode rapidly across the yard to a door designated "Office."

Roughly ten minutes later, he emerged in the company of two men, one of whom indicated a certain building, as Darcy nodded. He crossed to the landau, leaning in to Lizzy. "Dearest, there is something you must see. I beg your indulgence. This is a working facility and the men are, well, rough. I apologize beforehand for any unpleasantness, but it is necessary. Do you trust me?"

"Do not be ridiculous, William. Naturally I trust you. I also assure you that my ears and eyes are not as delicate as all that. I did grow up in the country, you recall." Darcy laughed, assisting her out of the landau. In the end, his fears were for naught, the men rather in awe at the presence of a lady in their midst. Work halted, and Lizzy only had to contend with stares, which undoubtedly bothered Darcy far more than she.

Entering the specified building, Elizabeth's eyes were instantly drawn to a partially completed curricle off to the right. There were dozens of light craft in various states of construction scattered about the warehouse; however, even before Darcy steered her toward the right, she knew. The curricle was beautiful, to be sure, polished to a lustrous gleam with shiny black steel wheels, the carriage's outer walls painted a deep maroon, and a folding top of thick tan leather. In spite of this, what captured Elizabeth's stunned attention was the Darcy family crest emblazoned on the side. It was the crest as her husband had redesigned it for her seal: daintily feminized with her initials entwined.

Lizzy was flabbergasted, and Darcy gazed at her with undisguised joy while one of the men launched into a detailed inventory of all the intricate parts and mechanisms. Darcy leaned to her ear, whispering, "Happy anniversary, my love. Do you like it?"

Lizzy was truly overcome. Tears filled her eyes and she buried her face into his arm, biting her lip to avoid bursting into sobs. Sudden powerful emotions rushed through her, not unlike the uncontrollable sentiments which had consumed her early in her pregnancy. That he would have her own curricle manufactured when he remained so anxious about her driving one was more than she could bear. She began to tremble, frantically looking around for a place to escape the prying eyes so she could privately fall apart. Spying an open door at the back of the warehouse, the glint of sunlight on water visible, she mumbled something about needing air and bolted.

Darcy stood rooted to the spot in shock for several heartbeats, mumbled his own vague excuse to the coachman, who continued to rattle on about springs and buckboards, and dashed after his wife. She stood by the river, hunched with hands on her knees, gulping air between sobs.

"Elizabeth, my God, what is wrong? Are you ill? What..."

Hands about her face as he peered intently, she interrupted incoherently, "William, I cannot believe... it is too much... I do not deserve... all this... the curricle... gifts and... you are too good... and I... am unworthy... the money spent... and..."

"Shhhh... Hush now, Elizabeth," he cooed as he enfolded her into his arms, pressing her tight to his chest, "cease or you will make yourself ill. You must remember our baby." He rubbed her back gently, swaying slightly as her tears slowly ebbed and shudders lessened. Pulling away finally, he again cupped her face, looking at her sternly but speaking softly, he said, "Listen to me, Elizabeth Darcy. I do not ever want to hear you utter the belief that you do not deserve anything I chose to give you or that it is my 'goodness' which compels me. First of all, you are worthy of all this and far more for reasons which would take me hours to numerate, yet that is merely one point. I am your husband. I am responsible for your happiness, security, health, wants and needs, pleasures, future, and all else. I take my job
very
seriously and will exhaust myself physically and financially if need be to ensure this. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, staring raptly into his darkened, intently somber eyes. He continued, "I love you, Elizabeth, more than I have the words to convey. As a result of the depth of my love for you, I delight in surprising you, giving to you, pleasuring you, and all the rest. Yet, the honest truth is that my honor and duty would obligate me to do much the same no matter whom I married. If I had been so unfortunate as to marry Anne or, heaven forbid, Caroline, I would be purchasing gifts, caring for them, providing for them, and," he shuddered involuntarily, "even... being intimate with them." He closed his eyes as if to block the horrid vision and then sighed heavily before again meeting her gaze. "It would be so hollow and empty and emotionless. Can you now comprehend what an uncountable joy it is to me that it is you, precious Elizabeth, to whom I can fulfill my duties as husband? The alternatives are unspeakable. I have not divulged this, but there are times, less now but frequently during our engagement and early weeks of marriage, when I would wake in a sweat, having dreamt a nightmare of Caroline or some other creature in my bed." He shook his head, again embracing her tightly. "Beloved, I can never shower you with jewels or gowns or trinkets or even curricles enough to thank you for sparing me that fate!"

He kissed her tenderly and thoroughly, aware of eyes peering through the windows of the warehouse, but he was indifferent. "Are you better now?" She nodded. "Good, because you are required to select the fabric you wish for the cushions; we still have several events planned, and I am hungry. Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?"

The two gifts patiently waiting in the landau yielded a Kashmir shawl large enough to completely cover her body down to her toes in a typical paisley pattern of yellow, blue, and mauve, and a ladies pocket watch. The watch was gold with an intricate scrollwork design on the case and a blue sapphire embedded in the center of the cover. The landau tops had been folded down per Lizzy's request, so Darcy's kisses of thanks were postponed, settling instead for a firm squeeze to his knee and her hands warmly linked in his.

They drove along the Thames, Darcy pointing to interesting landmarks as they appeared. Slowly they ambled along, the frequently dirty docks and warehouses along the river replaced with fine business establishments and humble residences as the Thames veered to the south, finally disappearing from view. Traffic thickened as they entered an obviously upscale district.