Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley

there was warmth between the two women and her dry humor frequently shone forth, even with Mr. Darcy.

Both Master and Mistress had not the least doubt they could trust their personal servant implicitly and although not friendly, they cared deeply for them and would grant nearly any wish requested. Seeing them enter the study together was astonishing. That Samuel and Marguerite spoke was manifest by how Lizzy and Darcy's clothing inevitably matched whenever dressing for a formal event, the frequent messages passed, and the perfection in timing between the two dressing rooms. However, neither had ever actually witnessed them speaking or in the same room, for that matter.

Samuel bowed toward his Master and then toward Lizzy, Marguerite dropping flawless curtseys. “Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Darcy. Pardon the deception. Miss Charbonneau and I implored Mrs. Reynolds's assistance, as we wished to speak with you together in a formal setting.” He paused, glancing to Marguerite, who smiled faintly and nodded. Samuel cleared his throat, cheeks pink as he met Darcy's confused eyes. Lizzy was looking from one to the other with a dawning suspicion.

Samuel continued, “Sir, Miss Charbonneau and I have, naturally, increased our acquaintance since she joined the staff. Our friendship has grown to an affection and,” he paused and took a deep breath, Marguerite stepping closer until beside him, arms brushing lightly. “Sir, Madame, we humbly request your permission for us to be wed.” He finished in a rush, visage scarlet. Marguerite was smiling lovingly, delicate face radiant as she possessively laid her hand on his arm.

Darcy was stunned speechless. Lizzy was equally as surprised but collected her wits before her husband, rounding the desk to clasp Marguerite's hands. “Oh! This is marvelous! We are so delighted for you both. Surprised, certainly, but extremely thrilled.” She leaned in to kiss Marguerite's flushed cheek, squeezing Samuel's hand briefly.

Darcy stood, senses slowly restored, as he too rounded the desk. Clasping Samuel's hand, to the valet's intense embarrassment, Darcy congratulated him as well, adding, “You do not need my permission, Samuel, but you do have my complete blessing. This is remarkable news. Mrs. Darcy and I are delighted and will grant whatever you wish for your nuptials.”

Samuel's face was a shade of red truly magnificent to behold. Lizzy wanted to laugh but maintained her composure. “Thank you, sir,” he stammered, “Miss Charbonneau and I do not want a fuss nor to disrupt the household or abandon our duties. We can marry quietly in the village without causing any disturbance or lack of service to you or Mrs. Darcy.”

Darcy waved his hand airily. “Nonsense, Samuel! Weddings are special events and a marriage should not begin in haste or with anyone besides the couple unduly considered. It is your day and we, Mrs. Darcy and I, intend to make it as unforgettable as possible. Many staff members have been married in the Pemberley Chapel and, naturally, you two would need time alone afterwards. We can arrange this for whatever date you wish.”

“Definitely!” Lizzy chimed in with enthusiasm, “There are available rooms in the couple's apartments both downstairs and at the Staff Domicile. In fact, one of the cottages is vacant since Morrison's wife passed. Mrs. Reynolds will happily show you the options, and you can choose whichever one suits your taste.”

Lizzy and Darcy continued to verbalize plans and offerings, Samuel and Marguerite nearly forgotten in their excitement. Their personal servants were overwhelmed by the outpouring, rarely interjecting into the conversation. In the end, it was decided that the two would be wed in the Pemberley Chapel one month hence. Marguerite was to be dressed in a new gown purchased as a gift from Mrs. Darcy, and then the newlyweds would embark on a two- week honeymoon to the Lake District arranged and paid for by Mr. Darcy.

Samuel's mien had rapidly transmuted from its impressive shade of maroon to bloodless ivory at the concept of his Master without Samuel's service for two whole weeks, stuttering and stammering in embarrassed shock. Darcy, however, waved his concerns aside, clapped him on the back, and assured the devoted valet that his absence was in fact fortuitous.

“I will be vacationing with Mrs. Darcy at the seacoast during that time and was not planning on taking you with me anyway, so now you will have a far more pleasant diversion to occupy your time than fretting about me.”

“But, sir,” Samuel spluttered, the redness creeping over his cheeks once again, “Who will shave you or assist you dressing or draw your bath or—”

“Have no fear, Samuel. I can take care of myself in a pinch, and there will be staff available. None as efficient as you, but I will survive.” Darcy smiled at his servant, touched at his devotion, and terribly amused, wisely choosing not to remind the man that he had managed capably before Samuel's procurement and on several occasions over the years. Marguerite was smiling serenely but with a hint of adoring humor, noticeably not offering the same arguments regarding her Mistress.

Eventually it was settled; Samuel's bashfulness was so acute at moments that Lizzy honestly feared the man would faint. She offered to learn how to shave her husband, thinking the idea would ease his disquiet, but he had looked at her with such horror at the concept that she hastily demurred. Marguerite's dulcet tones of French accented English calmed him while she skillfully and lovingly steered the wedding discussions along their proper course, all matters eventually established as Lizzy strongly suspected she had intended it all along.

When the betrothed couple finally exited, the Darcys collapsed onto the sofa in hysterical laughter. “After an hour of discussion, I am yet flabbergasted at what has been revealed here! Have you ever seen the two of them together?” Darcy asked his wife.

“Rarely, and never speaking to each other,” she answered, wiping at wet eyes and still laughing.

Darcy shook his head. “She must be the most tenacious woman on the planet to crack Samuel's shell. I have noted maids gazing speculatively at my valet in the past, but I am quite certain he has remained oblivious.” He laughed afresh. “Heavens! The man's shyness is unparalleled. I am convivial compared to him! I never thought I would see the day. Must be the rumored allurement of the French. The sensual mystique they purportedly have,” he mused with a small smile.

Lizzy glanced at him. “You have been to France. Did you observe this French mystique and allurement? Did any French maidens attempt their magic on you, Mr. Darcy?”

He looked at her sharply and noted the teasing lift to her beautiful mouth. He snorted, “You know me, dearest, blessedly inconscient to the machinations of the opposite sex. I was far too busy exploring museums, ruins, and old chalets to notice the ladies. Bingley was nigh on ready to strangle me for dragging him to such places. I think that is why he tricked me into dancing the waltz. As payback for avoiding the numerous fetes and cotillions we were invited to. What magic ventured was nullified by my ignorance or imbecilic behavior.”

Lizzy laughed at the vision educed, hugging her husband's arm. “Oh, William! You are a priceless treasure! I love you so.”

He grinned, kissing the tip of her nose. “Excellent news that is! Now, I must talk to Mrs. Reynolds. My curiosity is raging.” He rose and rang for the housekeeper, who arrived moments later with eyes downcast and a mild flush to her dear cheeks.

“Sir,” she began, “please forgive the deception with Mrs. Darcy…”

“Do not be ridiculous, Mrs. Reynolds, it is of no moment. Tell me what you know of this romance. How long has it been in the works?”

Lizzy sat on the sofa, listening to the tale and observing Darcy's avid face with a rising humor. What an old gossip monger he is! she realized, though, that it was not so much a desire for juicy gossip as it was an honest affection for his servant and interest in his well-being. Quite touching, actually.

According to Mrs. Reynolds, Marguerite had set her sights on a fortunate but utterly unsuspecting Samuel immediately upon entering the house. With careful and circumspect deliberation, she stalked her prey and snared her prize. None of the staff had any notion of the budding romance, the two cautious in the extreme and intensely private. Samuel's only true friends amongst the staff are the footmen Phillips and Watson. Marguerite's only confidante has been Miss Jameson, the still-maid, the two having developed a close bond. Mrs. Reynolds herself was completely unaware of the two personal servants being more than casual acquaintances until four days ago! Now the entire staff knew, the engagement having officially been proposed and accepted a week ago, and all were delighted if tremendously shocked.

Darcy had vacationed at the Lake District of County Cumbria twice in his life, so he was acquainted with the area somewhat. He and Mr. Keith sat down that afternoon and set the plans in motion for both the honeymoon of Samuel and Marguerite and the vacation of the Darcys. Lizzy left the men to their plotting, rejoining the ladies in her