Page 88 of The Difference of a Darcy
Darcy inclined his head. “You are wise to be cautious.”
“Hmph. Cautious does not keep a house running. Willing hands do.”
She rose from her chair, eyeing them both with a touch more curiosity than suspicion now. “What can you do?”
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, allowing her to answer first.
“I can perform duties as a lady’s maid,” she said. “Hair, dressing, sewing. I can cook a few simple meals. Nothing elaborate, but I know my way around a kitchen.”
Mrs. Reynolds’ eyes brightened a little. “Mrs. Wickham would appreciate a lady’s maid. She has struggled without one. The girl has not been properly turned out in months.”
Elizabeth gave a slow nod, heart hammering.
“And you, sir?”
Darcy stepped forward. “I can serve as a footman, or assist with work in the gardens or stables if needed.”
Mrs. Reynolds looked him up and down. “You are tall enough, I will give you that. Too refined for mucking stalls, but we all do what we must.”
She turned back toward the desk. “I will find you a small chamber. You will share, I assume?”
Elizabeth’s throat tightened slightly, but she nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Mrs. Reynolds opened a ledger and made a brief note. “You may begin tomorrow. If you are of a mind to prove yourselves useful today, Cook could use help preparing supper. And the scullery is always in need of hands.”
Elizabeth offered a smile. “We are happy to begin today, but we will need time to walk back to Lambton to retrieve our belongings.”
The housekeeper pursed her lips. “Can either of you ride?”
“I can,” Darcy said, stepping forward.
“Then you may use a horse from the stables. Tell John that Mrs. Reynolds said to put you on Nelly.” Once Darcy nodded his understanding, Mrs. Reynolds continued. “Go now. Your wife can begin her duties in your absence.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.” Elizabeth’s voice displayed her sincerity.
Mrs. Reynolds’ gaze was sharp but not unkind. “Whatever brought you here, I hope you find what you are looking for. This house could use a little hope.”
Elizabeth swallowed and offered a quiet, “Thank you.”
Beside her, Darcy said nothing, but his hand brushed hers as they turned to follow the housekeeper through the narrow hallway back to the kitchens.
“This is where I leave you,” the housekeeper said once they reached the large stone room.
Darcy nodded politely, and Mrs. Reynolds disappeared back down the passageway. Before they entered the room, however, he gently caught Elizabeth’s arm and drew her back to him.
“Are you truly all right with this?” he asked softly. “Working here, I mean. Living like this.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “Do I seem unwell with it?”
“That is not an answer.”
She smiled faintly. “I said I was willing, and I meant it. I am not afraid of a little hard work.”
Darcy still looked troubled. “It is not just the work. It is everything. The deception. The uncertainty. I hate the thought of you scrubbing pans or—God forbid—hauling chamber pots.”
Elizabeth placed her hand lightly on his chest. “I am not afraid, William. I told you before: I have lit my own fires and tended my own sick sisters. I know what it is to be useful.”
The sound of his first name leaving her lips felt strange, but she could tell it affected him. He reached up, covering her hand with his.
