“I do not care so much about traditions that I desire to sleep separately from my wife when we are in the same house.” He pulled her closer to him. “Indeed, I hate the thought of having to separate from you ever.”
“Oh.”
“However, if you wish for me to go to my chamber, I will respect your wishes.”
“No…no. That is…you may stay.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught as Darcy proved just why it was such a good idea for him to stay in her bed.
*****
The following morning dawned with sunny skies, but Elizabeth could not forget that it was the day of her father’s funeral. It was not the typical custom for women of her class to attend the funeral. However, she had considered flaunting the accepted norm.
She knew there were different forms of grief. Charlotte’s brother closest to her in age had died of measles while at school. She had told Elizabeth that at first she would forget and think of things she wished to tell him and include in a letter. Then she would remember the awful truth. For Elizabeth, however, there was no forgetting that Mr. Bennet had died. Even if she were not as close to him and used to seeing him so often every day, she doubted anyone could forget the drama which expelled them from their home. Perhaps that would make moving on easier for all of them, but Elizabeth was not entirely sure.
Darcy insisted on Elizabeth resting as much as possible that day. He even ordered for a tray to be brought up to her for breakfast. She and her sisters took turns sitting with Mrs. Bennet while Darcy and Bingley handled the final funeral arrangements and began the search for a home for the single Bennet ladies. She knew there was some debate about how long they ought to stay at Netherfield. Bingley would argue that they were all welcome to stay as long as possible, but Darcy would doggedly tell him that Mrs. Bennet eventually would wish to be in charge of her own household. At which time, Bingley would launch into a discussion about how they would only need three bedrooms as Jane would not need to leave Netherfield.
Regardless of how long her family stayed at Netherfield, Elizabeth knew that Darcy desired to settle all matters as swiftly as possible. She knew, too, that he would soon wish to leave Hertfordshire and return to his normal life. She mused over these thoughts while staring at a page in the library when Miss Bingley entered. Immediately, Elizabeth stood to leave. She felt all the awkwardness of being in the lady’s home so soon after her last visit in which they parted on barely cordial terms.
“There is no need to leave, Miss Elizabeth—pardon me, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth scrutinised the woman for some hint of intentional insult. Surprisingly, she found none. “Thank you.” She returned to her seat.
“I admire your ability to leave your chamber. I know your sisters have kept to theirs.”
Elizabeth merely nodded. She remained unsure if Miss Bingley was sending barbs at her.
“I hoped to find you. I had thought your family would appreciate a casual meal. Perhaps we will simply have things laid out, and if they wish to remain in their rooms, making a tray will be quite easy.”
Elizabeth gaped at the woman, who had not hesitated to order elaborate courses while she stayed during Jane’s illness. Consulting her on matters was the last thing Elizabeth had expected. “Thank you. That is very considerate.”
“I had thought you were the one to ask rather than Jane. I see we are alike in that way. We are the ones in the family who get things done.”
If Miss Bingley had surprised Elizabeth before, she was utterly astounded now. It had never crossed her mind that they might have anything in common. “If it does not upset you to speak about it, how long ago did your parents pass?”
“Papa passed when I was about your age. I believe you are nearly one and twenty?” Elizabeth nodded. “My mother passed a year later. She had been unwell after Papa died. We were not very different from you, you know.”
“Indeed?”
“We rented a house, more like Longbourn than Netherfield. We were able to stay until the lease ended, but then my mother could not renew it. We ended up living with an aunt until my sister married.” She gave Elizabeth a meaningful look. “Perhaps you see now why we are most anxious that Charles buys a house.”
“Indeed. Thankfully, your family has the freedom to purchase.” There might be some common ground between her and Miss Bingley, but Elizabeth could not forget that the Bingleys were far richer than the Bennets. How curious that the very Society which Miss Bingley hoped to join shunned the close relationship to trade, and yet it is what made the Bingleys more independent and fortunate than the Bennets.
“My sister and I understand more than Charles the great fortune we have in being able to purchase. We remember the times of uncertainty and are most anxious that it should not be left for another generation.” Miss Bingley sighed. “I understand we are to be sisters.”
“Are you reconciled to your brother’s choice, then?”
“I will not pretend that I am entirely pleased. Other ladies could do more for us. I had hoped Mr. Darcy could talk some sense into him, but alas, he has made his choice in the House of Bennet as well.”
Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew Miss Bingley could not avoid mentioning her marriage to Darcy for long. “I understand you had wished for a union between your two families. I am happy my sister and I were able to provide the avenue for you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“There is no need to be so prickly.” Miss Bingley huffed as though Elizabeth were the exasperating one. “I am reconciled to Mr. Darcy’s choice in marrying you.”
“That is good, as it cannot be undone,” Elizabeth answered while rolling her eyes. Standing, she tossed her book down and passed by Miss Bingley with a look of disdain. She did not need to deal with this today of all days!
“Pray, forgive me,” Miss Bingley said before Elizabeth left the room. “I did not mean to antagonise you.”
Elizabeth turned to look at the woman. What was Elizabeth even angry about? Miss Bingley had always been rude. Indeed, today she had been more civil than usual. Elizabeth supposed her tolerance for annoyance was lower than usual. Her nerves were frayed from all the events. However, Miss Bingley appeared to have spoken sincerely. Elizabeth well knew the signals in Miss Bingley’s tone and gestures when she intended to wound. Sighing, Elizabeth lowered her shoulders. “You are forgiven. I apologise as well. I am not my usual self today.”
“No one can blame you for that.” Miss Bingley looked around nervously and then cleared her throat. “Do you find everything to your liking, Mrs. Darcy? Is there anything you or your family require?”
Elizabeth tried not to openly gape at her. Then she recalled that Miss Bingley had always been a superior hostess; she seemed to take great pride in the matter. “I think we have everything we need. I hope we can settle my family soon.”
“I am confident Mr. Darcy shall arrange all matters well.”
“I agree.”
“What about the local company? Are you not friends with one of the ladies in particular? I think Sir William Lucas’s eldest daughter?”
“Yes. Charlotte is a dear friend.”
“I could invite her for a visit.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Thank you, I should like that. Perhaps in a few days I will feel up to company.”
“And your sisters, they often walk to Meryton, do they not? Louisa and I could accompany them if you or Jane do not feel up for it. We have not shopped in the town very much and quite miss the pastime.”
It could be avoided no longer. Elizabeth’s nostrils flared and her eyes widened as she scrutinised Miss Bingley. “What are you about? I know you hate the area and think lowly of all the residents, especially my family and my youngest sisters. You would loathe every second of a walk to Meryton with them.”
Miss Bingley sighed. “Just because I would not care for it does not mean I should not offer it. It is civil to take care of one’s guests. I would much rather be unhappy and do my duty than choose to ple
ase only myself and regret my lack of honour later.”
“I confess I had never supposed you thought so deeply about it. You often seem unhappy, though. Why do it all just to appease Society?”
“I do not do it to appease Society. Who would know of my actions here? No.” Miss Bingley shook her head. “I do have a sense of moral right and wrong. I might struggle to enjoy it, but I would hate it even more if I did nothing.”
Was Miss Bingley saying that she had flaws and was something less than the perfect woman? Elizabeth could barely credit it.
“I recall the pain of losing my father. I was also the second child and his favourite. There are times when it is difficult to have empathy for others, and then—” her eyes grew misty “—there are times when it is all too easy. I am only trying to be a friend.” She wiped a lone tear from her eye.
It was not what Elizabeth wanted to do. She desired to be justified in her dislike of Miss Bingley and never question if the young woman had more profound reasons for her behaviour. However, she, too, had a sense of moral correctness. There was only one option. Elizabeth held out her hand. “I would like to be friends, then. Thank you, Miss Bingley. Let us begin again.”
Miss Bingley placed her hand in Elizabeth’s. It was larger than hers, and also softer and whiter. It was the hand of an elegant woman who had taken care to be seen as such. Strangely, it humbled Elizabeth. Miss Bingley need not be just like her, but the woman had honour and grace.
“You may call me Caroline.”
“Then you must call me Elizabeth.”
“I would like that.” Caroline’s hand tightened around Elizabeth’s before releasing it. Her eyes wandered to the clock. “Now, I must talk to the housekeeper about this afternoon. Please let me know if you or your family need anything at all.”
Once alone in the library, Elizabeth marvelled at how different her life had become in such a short time. A little over a week ago, she had left Netherfield behind, sure that all the residents, save Mr. Bingley, were conceited and bordering on mean-spirited. Now she was married to one and seeing the merits of her hostess.
With a pang to her heart, she considered what her father might say at the news. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushed the tears away. There was too much to do to spend time in grief. Retrieving her book, she returned to her mother’s room and insisted that Jane rest. Mrs. Bennet remained silent and forlorn in her bed, and Elizabeth wondered if she would ever see the exuberance she had once mocked and detested return to her mother. In the oppressing quiet, she read until dark.
*****
“It is a fine house, but what do you think, Mrs. Darcy?”
Darcy directed the question at Elizabeth as they walked around a potential home for her family about a week after her conversation with Caroline. Every time he addressed Elizabeth formally, it startled her. She did not know why. Her parents often called each other by their formal names, even among their children. In fact, she was uncertain her parents called one another by their Christian names more than a handful of times that she could remember. She had always thought that was more proof they did not love one another and barely tolerated each other. She had always hoped for more intimacy and familiarity with her husband. In the near fortnight since their marriage, Elizabeth realised it was slow to emerge.
She did not regret it per se. Perhaps she would have adjusted better if she had not been married on the very same day that her father had died, and if she had not been forced to deal with being a new wife at the same time her family was being uprooted. It surely did not help that although Netherfield was a large home, it was near to capacity, and there was little time or space for privacy for a newly married couple.
Darcy had been patient and saintly…but something was missing. They had become friendly and began and ended their days together. She had no complaints about their evenings in bed. However, she would sometimes observe Jane and Bingley murmur quietly to one another and watch with a secret yearning. Everyone had warned her this might be the price she would pay, and there was no use in complaining about it now. Elizabeth had been so focused on the fact that she would tolerate being miserable to secure her family that she had never considered how she would manage if she just felt…well, nothing. Her heart was empty. Not only to Mr. Darcy but to everything. Food had no taste, and she no longer enjoyed her usual pursuits.
“Mrs. Darcy?” Darcy asked again when she had not replied.
Elizabeth glanced around the dining room, where they now stood to speak with the agent showing them the house. Everything was smaller than Longbourn. But then, Elizabeth supposed, that was to be expected for a widow, and one with fewer unmarried daughters. “The location is right, and so is the price. We do not have the luxury of time.” She nodded at the agent. “It will do.”
Darcy shook the agent’s hand. “If my wife is pleased, then so am I. Allow me to return Mrs. Darcy to Netherfield, and then I will be by your office to sign the papers. I estimate it will take a week to hire the staff and move all the things. However, the family will stay at Netherfield until after Christmas.”
“Very good, very good,” Mr. Davis said.
“I appreciate you allowing us to settle things before the quarter day,” Darcy said as Elizabeth took his arm. “It will be a great relief to all.”
Mr. Davis waved off the praise and showed them out of the house.
Once inside the carriage, Elizabeth leaned her head against Darcy’s shoulder. “Thank you for seeing to everything. I am so thankful we have you working for us.” She kissed him.
“Far be it from me to decry such a sweet payment, but you do not need to be so thankful. Mr. Gardiner would have done everything that I am now doing.”
“Yes, but I would have been weighed with the worry about his own finances. Even if he could manage to find a house for all of us, it would not be as large as what you have arranged. I am afraid you will just have to live with my gratitude.”
“I do not do it for your thanks, Elizabeth.”
Darcy’s tone was not rough or displeased, but she thought she saw a line of worry on his brow and a tightening of his lips before he glanced out the window. He wore that expression more often lately. He had always gazed at her when he thought she was not looking. During his proposal, he had explained it was out of admiration. She did not fear it had ceased—yet—but there was some new emotion behind his gaze that she could not name. Just when she would have expected them to grow closer and become more accustomed to one another, it seemed there was some unspoken burden separating them. However, uncertain she could bear more problems at the moment, Elizabeth resolved not to inquire about it.
The following day, Elizabeth and Darcy were at Longbourn selecting which items could go to the new residence and which needed to be sold. Mr. Collins hovered with the entail in hand lest Elizabeth make off with anything belonging to the estate. In the dining room, she rolled her eyes at the thought. Years ago, Mrs. Bennet had bought better china and silver than the traditional Longbourn pieces. They did not bear the Longbourn emblem for the very reason that they would move with her when Mr. Bennet died.
In the library, Elizabeth asked Darcy if he could find some reason to expel Mr. Collins from her father’s sanctuary while she was present. Darcy requested to see the stables and direct Collins on the finer points of husbandry. While evidently still angry with Darcy and Elizabeth, Collins could not resist the possibility of advice from such a renowned master. No Meryton neighbour could offer as much insight.
It was too much for Elizabeth to see Collins as lord and master in her father’s favourite room. The chamber held greatest significance for her. It also held the fewest estate pieces, Mr. Bennet having bought most of the items himself.
“Is it any wonder we had no savings?” she murmured to herself as she dusted off a previously cluttered shelf. She would not allow a servant to assist her.
Lovingly leafing through each volume and crossing her eyes to read her father’s small but distinct notes scrawled in the margi
ns, Elizabeth gasped in surprise when something substantial and far thicker than a bookmark slipped from a page and crashed on the wood floor. Bending down to scoop up the broken pieces, she stared at what she held in her hand. She had thought this item lost.
“Papa,” she whispered at the bits of a broken watch.
“What is this?” Darcy said from behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
She had been so caught up in her own world that she did not even hear him come in. He helped her pick up the remaining fragments and then looked at what Elizabeth held in her hand. “A watch?”
Elizabeth nodded and turned the enamel case over. “I saw a fancy watch one time and wanted to buy Papa one. He always teased that he was forever late with a wife and five daughters. He would make a big joke out of consulting his watch.” She wiped at her eyes. “I saved up and bought him a cheap one, then asked Charlotte to paint my likeness on it. She is quite talented, really.”
“Indeed,” Darcy murmured behind her. “How old were you?”
“But twelve or thirteen. It is silly of me to cry over such a thing. It was only worth a pound. Lydia spends more on lace and ribbon in a week.”
“No, do not excuse it away. I am sure it had immeasurable value to your father.”
She nodded. “For a time, it was his most prized possession. I always thought he had lost it when he stopped carrying it about.” She tapped on a worn part. “I think now that perhaps it was not aging well, and he wanted to put it aside. It had just been a joke to me, so I was not upset when he no longer used it.”
“Are you not done in here yet?” Mr. Collins’s voice boomed from the hallway.
Elizabeth stiffened.
“Here, hand me the parts.” Darcy held out his hand, and Elizabeth put the broken pieces into his care. He put them inside his breast pocket just before Mr. Collins entered the room.
“It looks worse than when you started!”
Mr. Darcy's Grieving Wife Page 11