One such incident occurred in early March. Mr. Keith approached Darcy one morning at his desk as Lizzy sat sewing in her chair.
“Mr. Darcy, a difficulty has arisen between Roy Alton and Howard Hayes once again. This time it is over the rights to the well.”
Darcy scowled and sighed. “Those two cause me more grief than all the others combined. What about the well?”
“Alton claims that Hayes has not been maintaining the well as he is instructed to do, and the pumps are now malfunctioning. Hayes refutes this, placing the blame, naturally, on Alton whom he states has intentionally sabotaged the pumps in order to slander him. None of it makes sense.”
“Are the pumps completely irreparable?”
“No, but certainly not adequately functional, especially with the weather, to sustain the families’ requirements.”
“Did we not address this same issue three years ago? We set up a schedule of maintenance times and duties…” Darcy trailed off as he rummaged through his files.
“Order each of them to dig a well on their own lands.” Lizzy spoke from her chair, still intent on her needlework. Both men paused and stared at her.
Darcy glanced at Mr. Keith, who raised his brows and shrugged. “Elizabeth, that would not solve the immediate problem.”
She looked up at the men as if they were impossibly dense and rolled her eyes. “Of course, they would need to fix the current well first. After that, though, they should start working on their individual wells.”
They continued to stare at her with mixed expressions of confusion and patronization. Lizzy sighed, “They are acting like children, so treat them as such. Separate them, take the object of their current tantrum away, and distract them with something else. In this case the arduous chore of digging a well in the frozen ground. That ought to distract them from their petty bickering for several months, and they will be too busy grousing at you to pick on each other.”
She smiled winsomely at their dawning understanding and astonishment. “In addition, you will have to set a deadline and enforce it by destroying the current well, or they will just ignore you.”
Darcy looked at Mr. Keith and they nodded. “Yes, that might just work. Write up a contract, Mr. Keith, and I shall confront them tomorrow. Arrange for the equipment they will need. Is there anything else?”
“No, sir. I will take care of it.”
He left and Darcy peered at his smug spouse. “Proud of yourself, Mrs. Darcy?”
“You would eventually have arrived at the same conclusion, my love, in several years or so.”
At least twice a week, Lizzy spent the morning hours with Mrs. Reynolds. Like Darcy, Mrs. Reynolds was overwhelmingly patient and delighted at the aptness of the new Mistress. Mathematics failed Lizzy, so Darcy handled the accounts as always, but she readily grasped the inner workings of the household staff and their interpersonal relationships. Like her husband, she learned each of their names and made a point always to address them individually.
Unlike her husband, Lizzy was naturally congenial and not as formal with the servants, thus taking the time to familiarize herself with aspects of their personal lives and characters. This added insight greatly assisted her in dealing with troubles as they arose and with moving freely about the manor, thus intensifying her knowledge of the inner workings of Pemberley. Little by little, she assumed a portion of the duties from Mrs. Reynolds.
“Mrs. Reynolds, tell me about the summer festival for the tenants. I would like to reestablish the tradition.”
“Wonderful idea, Mistress! We can easily plan this and the tenants would be delighted. Generally Mrs. Darcy held the event in late June or early July. The planting is primarily done, and it is not terribly hot yet. The festivities were fairly straightforward: a feast and dancing.”
Lizzy was nodding, “Yes, this should be perfect. Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and I will be journeying to Town in April for two months, as you are aware. We can set the date for…” she perused the calendar on her desk, “July tenth? Yes, that is good. I will discuss this with Mr. Darcy. We can detail the menu and agenda before we leave. Excellent! As always, Mrs. Reynolds, I count on your forthrightness and assistance. I still have so much to learn.”
Mrs. Reynolds patted her hand. “You minimize your progress, Madame. I have never seen anyone learn as fast as you have.” Lizzy blushed. “Mr. Darcy is pleased, I can tell.” She stood to leave. “By the way, ask Mr. Darcy about the summer festival the year he was fifteen.” She smiled and left.
Lizzy wasted no time. She entered Darcy’s study to find her husband bent in his chair, mumbling and cursing as he searched for something in the bottom drawer. He did not hear her approach until she was right behind him and spoke.
“May I help?” He jerked up, his mien a mask of consternation until he saw her beloved face and he melted.
“You already have, beloved, by warming my heart before I erupted in a serious temper due to my own disorganization and forgetfulness.”
“Pah! You are perhaps the least disorganized or forgetful man in the world!” She moved around his chair until she faced him, leaning close with her hands resting on his thighs. “I find that if I take my mind momentarily off the dilemma at hand, the answer will spontaneously emerge. You merely need something to distract you, my love. I believe my arrival is fortuitous.” With that proclamation she kissed him, slowly and teasingly playing with his lips.
“Hmmm… You are partially correct, dearest wife, as ideas are materializing in abundance, although none of them solve the prior problem, yet I am no longer concerned.” He whispered against her mouth, grasping her waist to pull her onto his lap.
She smiled and gently bit his lower lip before pulling away. She laughed at his sudden expression of childish petulance and clasped his hands. “Such a baby! Come with me, little boy,” as she tugged him up and led him to the sofa. She sat close to his side, draping her legs over one of his, one hand entangling in his hair as the other dexterously manipulated the knots of his cravat. “There. Is this not preferable? Now you can have your way with me, Mr. Darcy.”
Without hesitation, he did. Kissing thoroughly and caressing where possible while fully clothed, the lovers delighted in a time of rapturous amusement. Darcy’s coats were unbuttoned and Lizzy lovingly fondled his chest while nibbling on his exposed neck, finally murmuring into his ear, “So, enlighten me as to the memorable event surrounding the summer festival when you were fifteen.”
Darcy had been pleasantly attending to his own diversions along Lizzy’s bodice when she spoke. He choked on his startled indrawn breath, coughing and sputtering alarmingly. Lizzy covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “What…” he wheezed, “How did you…” gasp, “Who told you about that?”
“Mrs. Reynolds.”
He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall. “I should dismiss her!”
Lizzy snickered as she moved in to assault his now further visible neck and chest. “Nonsense! I am sure it is in your journal for me to read anyway, so confess, Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh Lord, have mercy; why did I ever marry such a meddlesome pest?”