Read Online Pride and Prescience by Carrie Bebris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carrie Bebris
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moss cascading from them. Four columns encompassed the two-story house on each side and supported wide porches on both levels. Deep green ivy and bright pink roses climbed the columns to wind through the rails of the veranda balustrade. An engravedplate centered at the bottom of the frame read
Mont Joyau
.
Frederick Parrish’s plantation appeared an idyllic, peaceful place. Elizabeth wondered whether he regretted its impending sale. Only the strongest affections toward a spouse could induce her to relinquish such a home. The spelling, she noted, differed from her previous assumption. She would have to ask Darcy about the accuracy of her translation sometime when she wasn’t struggling to eavesdrop on a conversation in which she pretended no interest. Unfortunately, she could make out little more than assorted whispered endearments.
She stole a glance at the couple. The embrace had ended, but Caroline yet leaned on her husband’s arm for support. “I don’t know what came over me—”
“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmured, slipping Darcy’s cloak from her shoulders and folding it over the back of a chair. “We’ll sort it out in the morning. You should rest now.” He cleared his throat, signaling that the Darcys could curtail their spontaneous art appreciation. “Pray excuse me while I attend my wife to her chamber.”
“Of course.” Darcy donned his hat, which in the confusion of their arrival the butler had neglected to take. “We’ve intruded on your privacy too long as it is.”
“No—not at all! I am most grateful for your interest in Caroline’s welfare.” In the foyer below, the grandfather clock struck half-past one. “I know the hour grows late, but if I might presume upon your kindness further I would like to speak with you before you leave. Meanwhile, my man will see to your comfort.”
The butler, apologizing for his forgotten duties, collected their cloaks and Darcy’s hat while Parrish escorted Caroline upstairs. Elizabeth easily forgave the domestic’s earlier oversight—the reunion had made her and Darcy self-conscious about the propriety of their own presence; the scene had hardly needed a servant in the audience as well.
Now alone in the drawing room, the two of them regarded each other with all the astonishment they’d labored to suppress. “What do you suppose she was doing?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy shook his head. “I cannot begin to guess. She seemed relieved to return, so I do not think she was running away.”
“Then what errand called her out?” She could not imagine any business so vital that it needed to be conducted on one’s wedding night. Yet something more than a handkerchief and a few coins had swollen the sides of Mrs. Parrish’s reticule—something important enough to be remembered while half her clothes had been forgotten; important enough that she had risked her safety rather than surrender it to a thief. What could the small handbag have contained? Elizabeth glanced to the part of the room where Caroline had stood, hoping perhaps it had been left behind, but the owner had taken the reticule upstairs with her. Just as well—she could never have so boldly invaded the woman’s privacy.
Elizabeth also wondered how Parrish had failed to realize his bride’s absence. Though society couples commonly maintained separate chambers, Darcy had not left her bed on their wedding night, or any night since. She’d like to think that if she’d slipped out of the house for a moonlight stroll, her new husband would have noticed. The Parrishes seemed equally attached to one another. Surely the marriage had been consummated? Miss Bingley had never struck her as a warm person, but the embrace the couple had just shared suggested the bride was comfortable receiving physical affection from her husband. Elizabeth dismissed any conjecture that fear of marital duties might have inspired Caroline’s flight. What, then, had compelled her to rise from bed for a midnight
Mont Joyau
.
Frederick Parrish’s plantation appeared an idyllic, peaceful place. Elizabeth wondered whether he regretted its impending sale. Only the strongest affections toward a spouse could induce her to relinquish such a home. The spelling, she noted, differed from her previous assumption. She would have to ask Darcy about the accuracy of her translation sometime when she wasn’t struggling to eavesdrop on a conversation in which she pretended no interest. Unfortunately, she could make out little more than assorted whispered endearments.
She stole a glance at the couple. The embrace had ended, but Caroline yet leaned on her husband’s arm for support. “I don’t know what came over me—”
“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmured, slipping Darcy’s cloak from her shoulders and folding it over the back of a chair. “We’ll sort it out in the morning. You should rest now.” He cleared his throat, signaling that the Darcys could curtail their spontaneous art appreciation. “Pray excuse me while I attend my wife to her chamber.”
“Of course.” Darcy donned his hat, which in the confusion of their arrival the butler had neglected to take. “We’ve intruded on your privacy too long as it is.”
“No—not at all! I am most grateful for your interest in Caroline’s welfare.” In the foyer below, the grandfather clock struck half-past one. “I know the hour grows late, but if I might presume upon your kindness further I would like to speak with you before you leave. Meanwhile, my man will see to your comfort.”
The butler, apologizing for his forgotten duties, collected their cloaks and Darcy’s hat while Parrish escorted Caroline upstairs. Elizabeth easily forgave the domestic’s earlier oversight—the reunion had made her and Darcy self-conscious about the propriety of their own presence; the scene had hardly needed a servant in the audience as well.
Now alone in the drawing room, the two of them regarded each other with all the astonishment they’d labored to suppress. “What do you suppose she was doing?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy shook his head. “I cannot begin to guess. She seemed relieved to return, so I do not think she was running away.”
“Then what errand called her out?” She could not imagine any business so vital that it needed to be conducted on one’s wedding night. Yet something more than a handkerchief and a few coins had swollen the sides of Mrs. Parrish’s reticule—something important enough to be remembered while half her clothes had been forgotten; important enough that she had risked her safety rather than surrender it to a thief. What could the small handbag have contained? Elizabeth glanced to the part of the room where Caroline had stood, hoping perhaps it had been left behind, but the owner had taken the reticule upstairs with her. Just as well—she could never have so boldly invaded the woman’s privacy.
Elizabeth also wondered how Parrish had failed to realize his bride’s absence. Though society couples commonly maintained separate chambers, Darcy had not left her bed on their wedding night, or any night since. She’d like to think that if she’d slipped out of the house for a moonlight stroll, her new husband would have noticed. The Parrishes seemed equally attached to one another. Surely the marriage had been consummated? Miss Bingley had never struck her as a warm person, but the embrace the couple had just shared suggested the bride was comfortable receiving physical affection from her husband. Elizabeth dismissed any conjecture that fear of marital duties might have inspired Caroline’s flight. What, then, had compelled her to rise from bed for a midnight
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