Page 48 of Pemberley's Imposter
Dusk had fallen before the Darcy carriage reached the Hursts’ townhouse. Elizabeth thought it was too late to pick up their daughter, but Darcy had insisted she was coming home with them.
The housekeeper left them in the parlour with the Bingleys while she fetched their daughter, who, despite the late hour, had not yet fallen asleep. Charlie was teething, and Ellie had stayed awake in sympathy with his plight. The nurse and Jane had tried to lull them to sleep but to no avail.
Ellie came running towards them, stamping her feet, making it sound like a herd of elephants was coming, not a two-year-old girl.
Fitzwilliam received the first embrace, as their daughter ran straight to her father. Elizabeth could not begrudge him the honour, though; it had been a long time since father and daughter had seen each other. Darcy swung his little girl up into the air to her squeals of delight.
“Ellie’s papa!” she exclaimed, grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his cheek. Her chubby arms encircled his neck, and she squeezed him fiercely.
Elizabeth watched Fitzwilliam’s eyes grow misty. The immediate bond that had formed between the two was one ofthe many reasons Elizabeth had reached out to her husband for a reconciliation.
“Mr Darcy! What on earth has happened to you?”
Elizabeth had forgotten about Mrs Caroline Elliot, or more likely eradicated her from her memory. Her nasal voice was the last sound she wanted to hear when all was going so well. The woman was completely lost to every civility and was eyeing Mr Darcy’s attire with a wrinkled nose before she remembered her manners. Her sycophantic smile returned, and she laced her arm round Mr Darcy’s.
“How good it to see you. It has been too long for such good friends. And how lovely to see the two of you together in the same room. Why, it must be close to three years since I last had the pleasure,” Mrs Elliot said, simpering at Mr Darcy before she smirked at Elizabeth.
“The pleasure is ours, Mrs Elliot,” Mr Darcy replied evenly. He detached himself from her cloying arm with a slight bow and nodded towards her husband. “Mr Elliot.”
“Ellie’s papa,” Ellie declared possessively. When it came to sharing her father, she could be proprietorial.
“I am sorry to leave you so soon, but Miss Darcy is in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Bingley.”
Elizabeth startled when Mr Darcy mentioned Miss Darcy. She had almost looked around for Georgiana, but Ellie was the only Miss Darcy now. It delayed her departure by less than ten seconds, but Mr Darcy had already quit the room by the time she came to her senses. She hastened after him and entered the carriage for the short trip back to Darcy House.
Ellie fell asleep on her father’s shoulder. Not even a change of clothing woke her up. She received a kiss on her cheek from both her parents, of which she remained ignorant.
Mr and Mrs Darcy continued to their suite of rooms for an awkward good-night. Both stood indecisively in front of the mistress’s chamber, uncertain how to proceed. Had it been their first month of marriage, kissing would have ensued, and the master’s chamber would have been the only bed with wrinkled linens. As it was, both beds would be used tonight, each by a solitary occupant. The question in both their minds was whether there should be a kiss or not, but neither had the courage.
“Good-night, Elizabeth.”
“Good-night, Fitzwilliam.”
With a sad smile, Mr Darcy turned and walked into his room. Elizabeth remained in the passage until his back disappeared behind the door.
#
The following morning, the Darcys honoured their promise to the Bingleys about explaining Elizabeth’s sudden departure and speedy return. They arrived at the Hurst townhouse unfashionably early to break the awkwardness that had descended upon them. Elizabeth was more relieved than anything else when her husband removed himself from her company to join Mr Bingley in the study. She needed Jane; her sister’s calm presence would soothe her mind. Chasing impulsively after her wayward husband, Elizabeth had not pondered how they would manage to feel comfortable in each other’s company once they returned home.
Elizabeth was shown into the front parlour where Jane usually received her morning callers.
“Jane!” Elizabeth did not leave the butler enough time to announce her before she was halfway across the floor.
She was about to relieve her heart when she noticed Jane was not alone. Languishing on a sofa was Mrs Elliot, with a sleeping pug in her lap.
“Oh, Mrs Elliot, what a pleasure to see you.” Elizabeth curtsied, but the eagerness was gone. It was to be hoped the lady would soon be called away.
She was not; instead she remained and droned on about her new lap dog, Mr Elliot’s prospect of inheriting the baronetcy of Kellynch, and engagements they were anticipating in town. Elizabeth and Jane listened politely but not with much interest. Both sisters longed for solitude.
#
Darcy had more luck in his endeavour. Bingley received him with coldness, but hearing Darcy’s rendition of events, culminating in their wish to put the past behind them, his rigid position softened, or perhaps he let it rest because he was missing the company of Mrs Bingley.
Bingley wasted no time joining the ladies and eagerly found his seat beside his wife. Darcy, however, was indecisive and was nearly caught by Mrs Elliot’s claws.
His usual spot, gazing out of the window, would not do. It might be interpreted as an insult to Elizabeth. Darcy wished for a sign that Elizabeth welcomed him close to her, but she was ignorant of his conundrum. Resolute, he chose to stand behind the sofa his wife occupied, away from Mrs Elliot but close to Mrs Darcy without intruding too much upon her person. Looking down at her, he noticed she was fiddling nervously with her skirt, when the butler announced they had visitors. Three ladieswere shown into the parlour and gravitated towards Mrs Elliot while sending surreptitious glances towards the sofa.
“Mrs Dashwood, Mrs Rushworth, Mrs Ferrars!” Mrs Elliot cooed as the ladies were seated. “How good of you to call. Have you seen my new pug?” She patted her dog out of its sleep while sending barely veiled nods to the sofa.
