J Croft - Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge

The four were at ease to spend the remainder of the evening taking turns to read aloud from the ‘lady’s’ story; and Mary said, “Had I written such a superior work of fiction, I would undoubtedly want my name known. I am fond of this lady’s style and hope she pens many more novels in the same vein.” They all agreed the anonymous authoress was, undeniably, exceptionally talented.

Before they retired, hugs and gratitude were exchanged all around; and Elizabeth Darcy was pleased her artistic efforts had been worthwhile and appreciated. Her philosophy was ’Love, like paint, can make things beautiful when you spread it; but it simply dries up when you do not use it.’

As they were leaving the drawing room, Anna exclaimed, “Oh, look! Balthasar has left us a present too!” She beckoned a footman to dispose of the offering, but her brother pooh-poohed the suggestion. He was in an especially charitable disposition; and in view of the fact he was going to check on the horses anyway, Darcy simply scooped up the contribution with a section of newspaper and made his way to the stable. Relieved that the puppy was not in deep doo-doo with its new master, Lizzy summoned a maid to scour the stain; and prior to retiring she ensured the boxes of foodstuff and coin were ready to be distributed to the estate’s staff and tenants the following day.

The three Darcys and Miss Bennet spent the time between Christmas and New Year’s Eve peacefully and in preparation for their open house on December 31st. Elizabeth was surprised to discover a number of her neighbours embraced customs of the Scottish Hogmanay celebration; and the first-footer to cross Northumbrella’s threshold after midnight was the tall, dark-haired Randall Candel. The young man was thrilled to have beaten other revellers to the punch and hoped he would, in reality, be the bringer of good fortune to the household. The Darcys received traditional gifts of coal, whiskey, shortbread, fruitcake, and salt; and, in turn, they provided their guests with an endless supply of food, drink, and revelry. The estate’s festivities carried on well into New Year’s Day, and the merrymakers unabashedly sang Auld Lang Syne until the song was done to a cow’s thumb and the cows came home.

Northumbrella’s new mistress was very well satisfied with her husband, her home, and her neighbours; and her new family, acquaintances, and servants were very well satisfied with her. Elizabeth’s presents and presence cheered the entire household; and Darcy teased her about having a very merry charisma.

Mr. and Mrs. Ellis Fleming had not arrived at Eventide Hall, their estate farther north in Derbyshire, for their wedding night. The newlywed couple enjoyed celebrating with family and friends so thoroughly that they departed Pemberley later than planned. Fleming sent a rider ahead to secure lodging at a reputable cozy inn along the way and to notify his estate’s personnel he and their new mistress would arrive the following afternoon instead.

Finally ensconced in their snug room for the evening, Ellis cuddled with his bride and continued to ask for forgiveness. “I am so sorry, Georgie … of all people to lose track of time. I hope you are not having second thoughts concerning me.”

“Oh husband, I have, indeed, been having second, third, and fourth thoughts of nothing but you for the past … ” Georgiana checked her timepiece and frowned. “ … however many hours since we wed. Now, please stop agonizing and apologizing. Your man did well to secure this room on such short notice. Ellis, these accommodations are charming, we have enjoyed a scrumptious serving of food, there is a roaring fire in the grate, and I would be grateful if you would cease fussing as regards my comfort. To be honest, I am scarcely aware of my surroundings while I am with you.”

They declared their ardent admiration for one another, kissed passionately, and in due course found their way to the large, inviting bed. Alas, Fleming, the son of a clock-maker, was dissatisfied with the mattress and wanted to complain to the innkeeper. His wife, on the other hand, was not in any discomfort and insisted he stop tucking the ticking and talking. Georgiana had a better conception of how they should expend time on their wedding night, and Ellis could not find fault with her excellent way of thinking.

The next day, as the sun climbed higher, Georgiana, who was not a morning person, ignored her husband as he shook her shoulder and coaxed her to arise. She groaned at his chipper tone, opened one eye, and was surprised to find Ellis already dressed, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed. Mrs. Fleming groaned for a second time and pulled the quilt over her head.

“Georgie, love, it is a glorious morning. Rise and chime, sweetheart. I am eager to take you to Eventide Hall, my family’s age-old estate.” Ellis pulled the coverlet off his wife and was rewarded with a glower. “Come along, my sugar. I have already eaten but will join you for an extra breakfast. Akin to a clock, when I am hungry, I go back four seconds.”

Georgiana snatched the bedcover away from him. “Ellis, are you always so cheerful in the morning? We did not catch much sleep last night. Are you not tired?”

“My dear, Mrs. Fleming, I come from a long line of watchmakers. We are used to working around the clock, so I do not require much slumber.” He grappled and tugged the quilt from her grasp. “Ah, Georgie?”

“Yes, Ellis?”

“Last night … ,” He smirked as he realized why his wife was so sleepy. “Was I imagining it, or did you, in the throes of passion, refer to me as a handsome barbarian?”

“You were imagining it.” Mrs. Fleming’s face was flushed as she dove under the covers again.

As with nearly all newlywed couples, Ellis and Georgiana did, after some time, adjust to one another’s routine. Within a year, however, they had to adjust to their daughter’s routine. Although they were both tickled pink over the birth of their first healthy child, the new mother wondered why people spoke of sleeping like a baby. Ella Helene Fleming, their adorable infant, insisted on waking every two hours, like clockwork.

In the sumptuous master bedchamber of Northumbrella, Fitzwilliam Darcy lounged abed while his wife of two months stood nearby at her easel and observed him.

“May I ask to what this scrutiny tends, Elizabeth?”

“Merely to the illustration of your physique,” said she easily. “I am trying to capture it.”

“And what is your success?”

She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. My subject is far too distracting.”

“I wish, Lizzy, you would not sketch my anatomy at the present moment, as there is reason to fear the performance would reflect no credit on either of us.”

“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”

“As my wife, I assure you there will be ample opportunities for you to see me thusly; but I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours. Come here,” he warmly invited; and Lizzy put her paints away and climbed back into bed.

Several mornings afterward, Fitzwilliam Darcy, in a midnight-blue silk dressing robe, stood before the easel that held the canvas his wife had completed the previous evening. “Well, this is unquestionably one painting which will not be placed in the gallery at Pemberley.”

“I am offended, husband. I rather thought it should look well hung next to that of your great uncle, the judge.”

“I cannot judge … is this a very striking resemblance of my form, Lizzy?”

“Do you not think I did it justice, darling?”

“How near it may be, I cannot pretend to say. You think it is a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”

“I must not decide on my own performance, Fitzwilliam. But, if you will come back to bed, I may offer many compliments on yours,” she warmly invited. The effect was immediate, and a deeper shade of colour overspread his features; Darcy said not a word, cast aside his robe, and climbed in alongside her.

During the third year of his marriage to Georgiana, following the birth of their second daughter, Leanne Georgina Fleming, Ellis worked diligently to write the first book on the production of watches and clocks; and when it was finally published, everyone thought it was about time. The opening sentence was, ’Contrary to popular belief, people who work in watch factories do not stand around all day making faces’.