Sudden Awakenings (The Other Paths Collection)

Chapter 18

Darcy felt he must have done something wrong, for Elizabeth hardly spoke to him the entire day. She seemed to have made a friend in Perkins, however.

“I will hire you a ladies’ maid after we reach Pemberley,” he promised her. “Then you shall have someone of your own sex to converse with when we travel without my sister. It was an oversight on my part not to provide you with someone for our journey.”

“It is of no matter,” she assured him. “I grew up sharing a maid with my sisters, and as Sarah could not help all of us at once, we often assisted one another to dress as well.”

The following day marked the final stage of their journey. With less than forty miles left to cover, they had plenty of time to visit Matlock Bath and still reach Pemberley by nightfall.

Shortly after midday, they reached their destination. Matlock Bath’s wells were famous for the mineral waters dripping from the roof of a cavern or ledge, which covered items left there with deposits of minerals, eventually giving them the appearance of having turned to stone. Such “petrified” objects were popular souvenirs, to be retrieved by their owners at a later time when the petrification was complete. In addition to this, many people broke off small petrified spars from the rock formations and took them as souvenirs. The town boasted several wells, but there was a particular one Darcy felt might interest Elizabeth .

It was a short walk along the river to the ledge which formed the petrifying well. The air near the ledge was cool, and there was a constant dripping sound coming from the water flowing off the ledge into the pool below.

Elizabeth found the well fascinating. “To think that all of this was formed by water!” she exclaimed, examining the rock formations and various hats, wigs, gloves, ribbons, rings, coins, and other trinkets left behind by their owners which were gradually becoming covered in minerals themselves.

“Indeed! It is one of nature’s marvels. Do you know why I chose this particular well to visit?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“This is the well of Saint Elizabeth, your patron saint, and the mother of John the Baptist.”

“How interesting!” she exclaimed. “I am a little familiar with the story from the Holy Scriptures, but what is she known for?”

“She is the patron saint of expectant mothers, which is why many women come here to pray for a child, just as Elizabeth was blessed with a child in her old age.

According to legend, Saint Elizabeth herself visited this very well and blessed it with her holy water. It is believed that leaving an offering at the well is a way to honor Saint Elizabeth's spirit and to receive her blessings in return. The well is said to possess the power to transform ordinary objects into symbols of hope, love, and perseverance. Many have claimed their wishes have been granted after leaving personal items at the well's edge. Some say the well has healing properties, both for the body and the soul. Others believe the well can offer guidance and clarity in times of doubt.”

“I had no idea you were bringing me to such an auspicious place, nor did I know these legends about the very saint for whom I am named! I would like to leave an object as an offering for Saint Elizabeth, but I do not know what. ”

“I do.” Mr. Darcy removed his left glove. “We shall leave this here and retrieve it at a later time, as a souvenir, and under the hope that Saint Elizabeth will bless it in our absence.” He winked.

“Suppose we do not return?”

“I shall take it as your promise then, that we will return, Miss Elizabeth–er, Mrs. Darcy,” he corrected himself.

He saw Elizabeth’s cheeks redden. He supposed it would take some time for her to grow accustomed to being called “Mrs. Darcy.” He wished he were bold enough to simply address her as “Elizabeth” as he did in his own mind.

“All the rest of your gloves are packed in the trunk. If you leave your glove here, you shall be half-gloved,” she pointed out.

Darcy shrugged. “Only until we reach Pemberley tonight. I think I can suffer a little with only one glove if we are in a closed carriage.” A teasing smile formed on his lips.

“In that case, I shall leave one of my gloves too,” Elizabeth declared, her mirth matching his. “So you will not have to suffer alone. That way, when we return, we shall each have a souvenir to claim.” She took off her right glove and laid it on one of the rocks, before skipping off gaily in the direction of their carriage.

Darcy looked at the two gloves, so far apart, and decided it did not suit. Casting a glance to ensure Elizabeth was not looking, he took her glove and intertwined it with his own, so it resembled a pair of clasped hands, then laid the gloves beneath the dripping waters once more.

S

They were on the road again, passing through the town itself of Matlock Bath, when another carriage, coming the other direction, hailed them to stop .

As Mr. Darcy signaled his coachman to oblige, Elizabeth wondered who the other carriage might belong to.

A tall gentleman, older than Darcy, stepped out of the barouche, followed by an elegant lady in a feathered hat.

Mr. Darcy’s footman opened the door for them, and she and Mr. Darcy stepped out to greet the couple.

“Darcy, what a surprise to see you here!” The gentleman said. “I recognized your crest on the side of your coach and asked my driver to signal you.”

Mr. Darcy introduced the man and woman to Elizabeth as his uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady Matlock. They were taken aback when he introduced Elizabeth to them as his wife.

“Your wife!” Lord Matlock exclaimed. “Lady Catherine mentioned something about a girl who threatened to ruin her schemes for Anne, but I had dismissed it as drivel. But here I find it to be true– incredible!”

“We did not know you had gotten married, Darcy,” Lady Matlock said. “Our congratulations to you.” She surveyed her nephew’s new wife, making Elizabeth feel bashful as the object of her scrutiny.

“It was all rather sudden,” Darcy explained. “I intended to write to you both once we reached Pemberley.”

“A love match?” Lord Matlock asked. “Or something else?”

His wife quickly intervened. “Here is not the place to discuss such things. Return with us to Matlock Manor. We will dine together this evening, and I hope you will consent to stay the night with us.”

Darcy, without a glance to Elizabeth, replied, “It would be our pleasure.”

As Darcy handed Elizabeth back into their coach, Lady Matlock remarked with amusement, “Why, but you have but one glove each! ”

“Yes, Your Ladyship,” Elizabeth supplied. “We have paid a visit to Saint Elizabeth’s Well and left our offerings there.”

“Oh yes, Saint Elizabeth’s Well, I am familiar with it,” Lady Matlock nodded. “I prayed to God there, that he might give me a son, when we thought I could not have any. I like to think Saint Elizabeth heard me and interceded on my behalf, for I was soon blessed with a son, and another one to follow. If you have left an offering there, I pray you will be as blessed as I was.”

Elizabeth, unsure what to think, merely smiled and nodded as the carriage door shut.

S

“You did not tell me your aunt and uncle lived near Matlock Bath,” Elizabeth grumbled as their coach followed the Matlock barouche along a winding lane leading up to a stately manor.

“As you recall, our courtship was a hasty one. There is much I could have told you regarding my family, had we been given the proper time,” Darcy replied icily. “I did not wish to inconvenience you by paying a visit to Matlock Manor on our way to Pemberley, but now that my aunt and uncle have seen us, it would be a great affront to them if we did not stay the night.”

“I see,” Elizabeth replied curtly.

“I hope you do not mind adding a day to our journey.”

“I am at your disposal.”

Matlock Manor was an imposing, Tudor-style house. When Elizabeth remarked on the architecture, Lady Matlock informed her it had been the family’s seat since the reign of Henry the Eighth.

Elizabeth conjectured Lord Matlock must be the brother of Lady Catherine de Bourgh; they had the same nose and proud bearing. She thought she could detect a trace of resemblance between Lord Matlock and Mr. Darcy as well.

At dinner, Lord Matlock quizzed Elizabeth about her family, her education, and her father’s estate. He seemed to be sorting out how a country girl with no connections or fortune managed to land a wealthy husband such as his nephew.

Lady Matlock was congenial, but carried an air of superiority. Her own inquiries were less intrusive than her husband’s, but still Elizabeth felt as though she were under examination the whole time.

When bedtime came, Elizabeth was grateful she and Mr. Darcy were given a suite of rooms, with separate beds. They would not have to share a bed. She made sure to bolt the door, lest she wander during the night, and asked him to do the same.

“I hope you do not think my aunt and uncle were too severe on you,” he said to her, as they were readying for sleep. When she did not answer him, he went on. “The Fitzwilliams have always been a proud lot, as you can imagine; even more so since the Matlock earldom was created for my grandfather. You are already aware that my Aunt Catherine expected me to marry her daughter. Lord and Lady Matlock knew I did not plan to follow through with her wishes, but they still expected I would marry someone from the first circles. My decision to marry someone not from that sphere has come as a shock to them.”

“I am well aware I am not what your family expected,” Elizabeth said bitterly. “You could not be expected to rejoice over the inferiority of my connections.”

“Your connections are nothing to be ashamed of. If I were unwilling to associate with those outside the ton , I would not have become friends with Bingley. As far as you are concerned, you are a gentleman’s daughter, and my equal.”

Elizabeth’s spirits momentarily lifted. But before his words could warm her heart too much, though, he went on. “My objection has always lay, not in your family’s connections or lack of fortune, but in their conduct. Their efforts to snare wealthy husbands, at any cost. Yourself excepted, of course.”

“Let us not speak of this further,” Elizabeth replied, walking over to close the adjoining door between them. “I am tired from our journey and wish to go to bed. Good night, Mr. Darcy.” Without waiting for his reply, she shut the door firmly. Tears threatened to burst forth from their dam. Burying herself under her covers and putting the pillow over her head, she allowed her tears to come out.

S

“Do come and visit us again soon,” Lady Matlock bid them before seeing them off the next morning. “Pemberley is only nine miles away, and you are welcome here anytime.”

“Thank you, Your Ladyship,” Elizabeth replied with a curtsy.

She remained silent for the remainder of their journey.

The road followed the River Derwent northward, but towards the end of their drive, they crossed the river via a bridge and through a large set of gates. The road led them through a woodland, and soon a grand, sweeping mansion came into view. Perched on a hill, it overlooked a large lake fed by the river.

“Welcome to Pemberley,” Mr. Darcy said. His chest puffed slightly, as if he could not be more pleased to show off his domain.

The coach came to a stop at a large, circular drive. The house looked even more grandiose up close.

Elizabeth was introduced to the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, along with the butler and the cook.

“We have been awaiting your arrival, Madam,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “Your rooms are ready for you, if you wish to rest.”

“Thank you, but I am not tired,’ she said.

“Perhaps you might like a tour then,” Mr. Darcy offered .

She agreed. While the servants removed their things from the carriage, Mr. Darcy led her through the principal rooms of the house. Every room oozed with elegance and finery, and yet, there was a comfortable, inviting air to the house. Natural light seeped in from the large windows, each which offered a prospect greater than the last. The library boasted a view of the pastures and woodlands, while the drawing room overlooked the rose gardens and the reflecting pool. The dining room had a view of the lake, across which Elizabeth glimpsed a Greek folly.

“I hope you will be pleased to live here,” Mr. Darcy told her.

Elizabeth was unable to say she would not. Despite having come here against her wishes, she found this was exactly the sort of home that suited her tastes. Had she chosen this home for herself, she could not have found it to be more perfect.

Had I imagined I might be the mistress of all this, perhaps I would not have been so reluctant to marry! she mused with an inward laugh.

“This is your home now, so you may go anywhere you wish. Allow me to give you a tour of the gardens and the stables next,” he said, with a smile.

Although she had permission to enter any part of the house, there was one place Elizabeth knew she did not care to enter: the master bedchambers where Mr. Darcy slept.

Having already endured one night in the same bed with him on the road, she knew her willpower to resist his masculine charms would weaken if they were to share a bed again. She was grateful he had assigned her to a suite of rooms separate from his. There would be no danger of her wandering into his bedchambers during the night. The rooms were spacious and comfortable; she was told they belonged to Darcy’s mother, Lady Anne Darcy, during her lifetime .

S

Darcy felt a distinct sense of pride as he showed off his beloved home to Elizabeth. He genuinely wished for her comfort and happiness, and ensured her every material comfort would be tended to.

“Tomorrow, I shall place an advertisement for a lady’s maid for you,” he told her when they returned from touring the stables and the grounds. “In the meantime, Mrs. Reynolds or my sister’s maid shall tend to your attire. Georgiana is to arrive tomorrow, along with her governess, Mrs. Younge. If there is anything you require– anything at all– simply ask Mrs. Reynolds or one of the other servants. I’ve asked Mrs. Reynolds to order the meals for the week, but once you are settled in, you may meet with her to discuss the weekly menus. Oh, and I shall take you into Kympton tomorrow to order new clothing. I am afraid the modiste is not as good as those in Town, but you may order additional ensembles in the latest styles when we go down for the Season.”

S

It was much for Elizabeth to absorb. Not knowing exactly what to do to occupy herself, she wandered to the library. Miss Bingley had not been exaggerating when she called it ‘spectacular’. The library was vast, containing many books Elizabeth had never seen before. All were meticulously arranged by topic, then alphabetically by author. A whole shelf was dedicated to the works of Mrs. Radcliffe. Elizabeth found a copy of The Romance of the Forest and was soon so immersed in it, she failed to hear the library door open .

A hand on her shoulder startled her and she looked up. “Mr. Darcy!” She exclaimed.

“My apologies for alarming you.”

Elizabeth shut the book quickly and put it back on the shelf.

“There is no need,” he said. “You may keep out any books you wish. If you are in the middle of one, you may leave it on the table, or even bring it to your bedroom or another room of the house to finish. As I said before, the house is open to you. Now, as for my errand, I have come to tell you, Cook has dinner ready for us.”

There were hundreds of servants on the estate, yet aside from them, she and Darcy were essentially alone in this huge house. The long dinner table seemed empty with only the two of them, seated at opposite ends of it. She would be glad to have his sister’s company to displace the awkward strain she felt.

As soon as the meal was finished, Elizabeth declared herself to be tired and retreated to her chambers.

“I hope you sleep well, Mrs. Darcy,” he bid her.

“And you as well,” she replied.

She walked the corridor alone. Mr. Darcy disappeared into his study, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts. Perhaps I can grow accustomed to such a home as this. Besides, Mr. Darcy is not as terrible as he once seemed. She had once imagined him to be like the beast in a French fairy tale she had read, and pictured herself as his prisoner, trapped in a vast castle. But quite the opposite was true. She had as much freedom as she desired, perhaps even more than some women could claim upon entering the marital state, and her husband was anything but a beast.