you locked in my bedchamber for several weeks, at least so I may have unfettered and undisturbed access to you!”
Lizzy grinned. “If you mean to frighten me by that threat, Mr. Darcy, you have failed miserably. Frankly, I can think of no place on earth I would rather be than in your bedchamber, provided you are there as well, naturally.” She accompanied her words with sensitively placed caresses and kisses, causing Darcy to groan and close his eyes in mute surrender.
It was some time before he sought to find his voice or even that he was able to. Finally, breathlessly, he begged, “Desist, woman! You win! I shall exact my revenge for this torture, however, so be warned.” He moved away from her to compose himself, refusing to acknowledge the expression of amusement and triumph on her face.
Time passed in comfortable companionship. Lizzy was riveted to the passing scenery, all of it lushly green moorland and rolling hills. The River Derwent was a constant companion as the main road wove alongside it, crossing frequently over stone bridges. They traveled through Matlock, but Rivallain, the estate of Lord and Lady Matlock, was not visible. Darcy pointed out the places of interest as they glided by, but they did not halt. Both were too anxious to be home.
As they veered onto a secondary avenue and crossed over a stone bridge spanning the river, Darcy proclaimed, “We are well into Pemberley lands, Elizabeth. Look.”
The view was magnificent. The sun was low in the western sky, blanketing the spectacular landscape with soft shadows. To the west and east flowed seemingly endless fields of orchards and perfectly manicured farmland. Small, sturdy stone cottages were scattered randomly. Large numbers of sheep were noted as well as the horses that Pemberley was famous for. They saw a sizeable lake that was fed by numerous small streams from the hills and bordered on its eastern shore by a forest of cedar and pine that appeared to stretch to the horizon.
On her tour with the Gardiners, Lizzy had approached Derbyshire and Pemberley from the northwest, having taken a circuitous route. These were areas she had not seen with any clarity, her return to Hertfordshire being filled with too much dismay to inspect the passing landscape.
She scooted closer to him, resting a hand on his thigh, and he suspiciously watched her. “Do not fear, sir,” she giggled. “I promise to behave…for now. How soon to the house?”
“Only a couple of miles now. We will be arriving at twilight. I ordered the torches to be lit.” He placed his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her near to his side. He kissed her forehead and then nestled his face into her hair. “My Lizzy!” he breathed, “I cannot express my joy, my elation, to be bringing you home with me. Do you have any idea how deeply I love you?”
Her only reply was a bone-crunching hug. They held each other thus as the carriage proceeded down the tree-lined drive to the gravelly expanse before the entrance portico, not separating until the carriage slowed to a halt.
“How do I look?” she asked him.
“Stunning,” he answered truthfully. He kissed her lips tenderly and touched her cheek with his fingertips. “We are home.”
Lamps were lit in abundance, giving the house a bright and cheery glow of welcome. Scattered around the grounds were tall torches, lending increased illumination in the gathering darkness of evening. Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Keith, the steward, waited atop the entryway steps under the wide canopy, both smiling warmly. Darcy led Elizabeth forward.
“Mrs. Reynolds, you remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Now it is my boundless honor and joy to introduce you to her again as my wife, Mrs. Darcy.”
Mrs. Reynolds curtseyed. Her face was beaming and, in an act of spontaneous pleasure, she took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy. On behalf of the entire staff, I wish to express our delight in meeting you. Please rest assured that we will all endeavor to make you comfortable in every possible way. We are at your disposal.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Your kind words ease my heart.”
Darcy introduced Mr. Keith. “Mrs. Darcy, welcome. I echo Mrs. Reynolds’s greeting and assurances,” Mr. Keith said. “It is a tremendous honor to welcome you to the Pemberley household and family.”
Mrs. Reynolds turned to her master and curtseyed. “Mr. Darcy, welcome home. All has been prepared as you instructed. The senior staff is waiting inside, and dinner will be served whenever you wish.”
They entered the enormous foyer. The room, with its marble flooring and painted ceilings, brought back fond memories for Elizabeth. Her visit here had brought William back into her life. The beauty and elegance of these rooms had finally coalesced her tumultuous thoughts of him into recognition of the amazing man he was. She stole a glance at him as he walked so proudly by her side, a dazzling smile on his lips. Suddenly it felt so very right to be here, to be with him, that all her doubts and fears vanished as a vapor on the wind.
Elizabeth’s eyes fell on the people standing in a row before her. She experienced a moment of embarrassment to have so many stares directed her way, but the looks were universally ones of welcome and friendliness. Darcy took the lead in introducing her to each member of the staff present. The head cook, Mrs. Langton, was a commanding woman, tall and stout. One glance at her features and manner, and Elizabeth could well imagine the formidable competence of her kitchen management. The butler, Mr. Taylor, a man of some sixty years, was bent slightly but robust nonetheless. Mr. Darcy’s valet, Samuel, was a handsome man of approximately forty. Mrs. Reynolds explained that the remainder of the staff, both inside and outside, would be introduced to her on the morrow.
Lastly, she was introduced to Marguerite. Elizabeth almost gasped in surprise. Marguerite was an exquisite creature, quite small in stature and build, with blonde hair pulled severely back into a knot and the face of an angel. Her voice was rich and deep for a woman, accented with a trace of her native French. She greeted Elizabeth properly but with warmth. “Mrs. Darcy, welcome. It is a tremendous honor to be chosen to serve you. I understand that my position here is dependent on my ability to please you and serve you competently. To that end, I beg you to express your needs and wishes to me and to hastily inform me of any errors I may make.”
“Thank you, Marguerite.” Elizabeth was quite moved by the greetings she had received. She addressed the group all together: “Thank you to all of you for your sincere welcome. I have been somewhat nervous regarding my reception, as Mr. Darcy could confirm, but your graciousness and concern for my well-being has comforted me. Thank you, again, from the bottom of my heart.”
Mr. Darcy took over, dismissing the staff to their duties. He directed Mrs. Reynolds to have dinner prepared for two hours hence. “I will be giving Mrs. Darcy a tour of our apartments, Mrs. Reynolds. Please see that we are not disturbed. Marguerite, Mrs. Darcy will ring for you when she is ready to dress for dinner. Samuel, I will call for you as well.” Curtseys and bows all around, and then Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth.
They ascended the grand marble staircase, taking a turn to the left and then to the right, heading to a part of the house Elizabeth had not seen during her tour in September. She could not absorb it all! Every wall held a picture, tapestry, or wall covering of incredible beauty. Exquisite furnishings lined the corridors and plush carpet runners of detailed woven designs softly cushioned their feet. Statues large and small occupied wall niches or sat on ornately carved tables. Most of the doors they passed were closed, and hallways branched off to unknown destinations with additional latched doors and staircases. Perfectly spaced oil lamps provided illumination.
“This wing of the second floor is primarily private apartments,” Darcy explained. He stopped and pointed down the passageway. “Georgiana’s chambers are down there and to the left are guests’ quarters. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley have rooms set aside for their use. I suppose we shall need to reassign Bingley’s chambers as the current ones are inappropriate for Jane as well. You have seen some of the public rooms on the southern wing, but we will tour them thoroughly tomorrow. Our chambers are up this staircase, on the third floor.”
“William, I am lost already! I sincerely hope you plan on staying close by my side or I may wander off some forgotten corridor and never be seen again. I could well become the ghost bride who haunts Pemberley for all eternity.” She laughed.
“Never fear, my dear. I intend to keep you quite near, not only so you will not get lost but for other purely selfish motives,” he said cheekily. “In truth, Pemberley is not as difficult to navigate as some manors I have been in. Rosings, for instance, is far older, and I have always imagined the original architects taking perverse delight in designing a maze of halls and rooms with the singular intention of confusing the inhabitants. Also, Pemberley is well lit, day and night. I refuse to bump into walls, so I insist on lit lamps in the main rooms and passages. All the rooms
