“You are master of your own destiny, Bingley. It is your opinion and your opinion alone that should rule your actions. I felt that if you were truly in love with Miss Bennet, my words of caution would have little influence over you. I truly apologize for my interference.”
“But what about your abhorrence to her being a governess? Are you saying that you do not find this to be unpardonable? Surely you would never have considered courting someone in domestic service.”
For some reason, when Caroline had expressed that opinion, it did not seem to have the same impact as Bingley saying it now. Darcy shook his head and smiled a mirthless smile.
“I will tell you something, Bingley, although I doubt very much you will believe me. I have learned much about life this past year. Some of the things that I thought were most important have turned out not to be so. I have learned that regardless of one’s station in life, where matters of the heart are concerned, we are all on equal ground. Do not be so quick to judge me.”
Bingley looked at his friend as if for the first time. Was he just as vulnerable and susceptible to life’s uncertainties as everyone else? Apparently, he was. For some reason that made his friendship even more valuable than before. For the first time since their acquaintance, Bingley felt that they were equals; that their friendship would take on a whole new meaning from this day forward. And for that he was grateful.
“I have been a fool. To blame you for my own lack of conviction is indefensible. Can I then assume I have your approval?” asked Bingley.
“Do you need my approval?” retorted Darcy.
“No, but I should like to think I have it anyway.”
“Then, you have it!” said Darcy with a smile as the two gentlemen shook hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was April, and Anne had used every excuse she could think of to avoid a visit from her mother. Now she knew she could no longer keep her away. With Easter approaching, Lady Catherine had insisted she would journey to Pemberley to spend the holiday with her dear daughter and nephew.
Anne’s cough, which had been somewhat subdued, had begun again to worsen. Darcy blamed himself for not curtailing her activities in the preparation of the nursery. She was obsessed with its being completed before May and had spent many hours going over every detail. When she was seen moving the bassinette to a different location in the room for the third time in one afternoon, Darcy finally had to ban her from the room altogether.
The crowning glory of the nursery was the rocking chair Darcy had sent her. He had seen it shipped before he left London, and its arrival had coincided with his, so that both Darcy and the rocking chair reached Anne the same afternoon. It was exquisite. The beautifully handcrafted wood was carved with small delicate butterflies, and she could just imagine herself rocking the baby to sleep each night whilst sitting in it.
Darcy was more nervous than he cared to admit upon receiving the news of his aunt’s visit. He did not know how proficient Anne was at play acting, but he doubted his own abilities with much certainty. How Anne had persuaded Mrs. Reynolds to go along with her scheme, he had no idea, but the elderly housekeeper seemed more than willing to be an accomplice in their charade.
As he paced the foyer, he anxiously awaited Richard’s arrival. He needed to make sure that his cousin was well acquainted with the circumstances and that he would behave himself in front of their aunt.
It was decided that they would have Anne nestled on the larger divan in the parlour amidst many bed clothes for most of Aunt Catherine’s visit. With so much bedding, it would be hard to discern where Anne ended and the bed clothes began. Hopefully this camouflage would help complete the illusion of Anne’s increased size.
When she finally arrived, Lady Catherine entered the parlour with a vigour that belied her years. “Oh, my dear daughter, how good it is to see you!” She then approached Anne and bent down to kiss her cheek. This action caused Anne to startle, and an amused smile spread across her face. I have finally been able to please my mother, she thought.
Mrs. Reynolds, for her part, executed a flawless performance. She exhibited just enough concern for Anne to convince Lady Catherine that her daughter’s condition was cause for a certain amount of apprehension as with any confinement, but that there was no need for any undue anxiety.
Darcy’s nervousness at the deception was misinterpreted by Lady Catherine as worry over Anne’s ability to successfully bear the child she carried. On one particular evening after dinner, Lady Catherine felt it her duty to proclaim that Anne would have no difficulty giving birth and, of course, assured Darcy that she would bear him a son.
Georgiana spent most of Lady Catherine’s visit with a perplexed look on her face. She could not account for her brother and cousin’s strange behaviour; Fitzwilliam looked to be a nervous wreck, and Richard acted like the cat that swallowed the canary. What were they about?
One evening Darcy almost panicked as Lady Catherine approached a sleeping Anne and patted her stomach. To his surprise, his aunt did not react with alarm to this endeavour. To his relief, he later learned that Mrs. Reynolds had placed a small pillow under Anne’s dressing gown for just such a likelihood.
Richard was having an exceptionally good time enjoying himself at Darcy’s expense. He spent most of the visit with an amused look on his face and on a few occasions had even burst into laughter at Darcy’s obvious unease.
As for Anne herself, to her surprise, she was quite enjoying being the centre of attention. Her mother had never displayed such condescension towards her before, and the pleasure was acute indeed. She had also discovered a little ploy to help her with her coughing bouts.
At Easter dinner, Anne, though never one to indulge in alcohol, had partaken in a glass of wine to celebrate the day. She noticed that after she had imbibed the wine, she did not cough for several hours.
On this particular evening, she had already partaken in three glasses of wine in order to subdue her cough. This was done without anyone’s notice, except for the servant who dutifully refilled her glass each time she emptied it. After dinner had been completed, Georgiana had been called upon to play the pianoforte. She happily took her place in front of the instrument.
As she began to play, to everyone’s surprise, Anne suddenly broke into song. Her voice, at first faint, grew in strength and was not particularly melodious.
Richard, who was highly amused by this, immediately joined his cousin in her vocal efforts, and both were now singing off key and at the top of their lungs. Georgiana at first faltered with her playing, but quickly recovered and accompanied their singing as best she could.
Observing their joyful countenances, she could not resist joining in, and soon all three were singing gaily. As they sang, they all looked at each other and displayed the happiest of smiles.
Lady Catherine sat quite horrified with her mouth agape, wondering what had gotten into her quiet, well-bred daughter. Expecting to see the same look of dismay on her nephew’s face, she turned towards Darcy only to find him grinning from ear to ear. It was the first time since Aunt Catherine’s arrival that he had actually relaxed and enjoyed himself.
~*~
Jane Bennet took a seat on the park bench she had adopted as her own. Caleb, now three, was no longer content to sit idly beside Jane and so joined his brother and sister as they played by the pond. It was one of those perfect early May mornings.
She had spent the previous evening in the company of her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and had read them Lizzy’s latest letter. All three were in much anticipation at seeing her again, but Elizabeth’s letter indicated that she was still unsure of her plans. She said she hoped she would be able to visit sometime during the summer, but as yet her plans were not fixed.
As Jane sat there contemplating such a happy event, a figure was approaching in her direction. She caught a glimpse of the gentleman from the corner of her eye, and as she turned her attention to look upon him, she immediately startled at the recognition.
&nbs
p; As he approached the park bench, he slowed his pace, giving himself time to gauge her reaction. When he saw her surprised look change to one of dismay, he felt his determination waver, but knowing it was too late to turn back, he continued his course until he was standing before her.
“Jane . . . eh, Miss Bennet, might you favour me with your company this fine morning?” he asked with a great deal more confidence than he felt.
She looked up into his eyes. The shock of seeing him so suddenly, combined with the stress she had endured over the past several months, overwhelmed her. She immediately burst into tears, hiding her face in her hands.
Bingley sat down, quite at a loss at how to comfort her or even if she would welcome his efforts. The desire to embrace her was almost irresistible; however, the situation of their public viewing prohibited any such indulgence.
He felt the full force of his guilt at causing her such pain. “Please, Miss Bennet, I beg you, please do not cry.” He slowly pulled her hands from her face and looked lovingly into her eyes. He then gently wiped her tears away.
“Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive my callous behaviour?” he asked.
Despite her tears, Jane managed a weak smile.
“I have been a fool. I know I deserve no such consideration from you, and you have every right to reject me, but I beg you to please give me another chance.”
Jane sat in bewilderment. Able neither to speak nor even to form a coherent thought, she continued to stare at him in silence. Bingley, misinterpreting her silence, hung his head and looked down, his only thought being, I’ve lost her!
As he was about to rise to leave, he felt the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek. As he lifted his eyes to meet hers, he saw the love she felt for him, the love he had heartlessly disregarded. He put his hand over hers and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm softly. They both stood and, defying propriety, embraced. Without need for words, they came to a complete understanding. They would be together for the rest of their lives.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The lateness of the month was beginning to take its toll on the many awaiting the arrival of the future Master of Pemberley. Georgiana was probably the least concerned, as she was enjoying her visit with her Aunt and Uncle Matlock. She was looking forward to becoming an aunt, and such was her nature that she could not imagine anything untoward happening that might diminish that happy prospect.
Caroline Bingley had been anxiously awaiting any news related to the event, especially after hearing Dr. Adams’s surprising disclosure. She felt confident that if either Anne or the child should not survive as the doctor had suggested, she would still have a chance to win Mr. Darcy.
If only the child survived, Mr. Darcy would, of course, need a wife to raise the child. If only Anne survived, he would have to acknowledge his mistake in choosing such a sickly girl to bear his future heir. Caroline was certain she would find a way to benefit from either outcome.
The only drawback at having used her charms to persuade Dr. Adams to divulge Mrs. Darcy’s condition was that he was now convinced of her affection for him. Not wanting to completely discourage his advances, certain there was still more to the story than he had revealed, she had allowed him the liberty of her kisses. Although it was not wholly unpleasant to be the object of such attentions, she would have to sever the relationship soon so that she might be free to pursue Mr. Darcy once again.
~*~
Anne’s nervousness could not have been more genuine had she actually been with child herself. Each day she waited patiently for some news. Her anxiety and anticipation were having their effects upon her health. She confined her daily activities between her bed chamber and the nursery, which was now completed to perfection. Many afternoons found her rocking in the beautiful chair Darcy had bought for her. She longed for the day that she would hold his child in her arms.
~*~
Elizabeth’s demeanour was abnormally calm. She was determined not to dwell on the inevitable fate that awaited her and her child. She knew she must abide by the terms of the agreement.
In moments of pure fantasy, she envisioned herself fleeing from the small cottage, her child in her arms, to seek refuge with Mrs. Worthington. Or perhaps she and her child could secure passage aboard a ship destined for America. Even after the fulfilment of all of Wickham’s demands and the money she had sent her mother, she still had some funds available to her. But she knew such thoughts were all just idle musings. She awoke each morning with the hope that today would be the day that ended this torture.
~*~
Darcy had been sitting there for almost a half hour looking down at the cottage. He had not witnessed any activity since his arrival and was deep in thought. For the last several days, he had made the journey religiously in hopes of discerning some news regarding the birth of his child. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had passed, one day into the next, without incident.
If daily routine was followed, Lizzy would soon be walking the nearby woods behind the cottage. This practice had resumed two months prior, upon the arrival of more pleasant temperatures.
Just as he thought upon it, she appeared in the doorway of the cottage. He watched as she tied the ribbons of her bonnet and noted that her hair was not pinned but fell around her shoulders. She stretched her arms over her head and gave an approving look at the day around her.
Most recently she had taken to walk the same route each day, as it was the shortest and accommodated her now somewhat limited capabilities. As she made her way behind the cottage and towards the wooded area, he lost sight of her. She would usually reappear about fifteen minutes later. This was always the longest fifteen minutes of his day.
He decided to make use of today’s time by thinking of names for his child. If it was a boy, he was partial to George after his father, or perhaps Geoffrey after his grandfather. If it was a girl, he thought Anne would be appropriate as it was his wife’s and his mother’s name.
His mind then wandered, and he let himself entertain the thought of naming the child after its mother. He wondered if Lizzy was short for Elizabeth. He had imagined it was. Would Elizabeth Anne be inappropriate? He made a mental note to look up his family history to see if there was indeed an Elizabeth somewhere amongst his past relations to which he could point, should he be questioned about such a choice.
He pulled out his fob and noted that it had been more than twenty minutes since Lizzy had entered the woods. Given her condition, he decided to give her a few more minutes before he became alarmed. After all, she was moving much slower of late.
At first he thought the sound he heard was emanating from the branches below as their leaves swayed in the wind. However, as the sound continued, he realized that the trees were not the source of such sounds. He suddenly saw Hannah run from the cottage towards the woods. Quickly he kicked Marengo into action and galloped down the ridge, past the cottage, to where he had last seen Lizzy.
As he manoeuvred Marengo into the woods, he called to her. Upon hearing her again, he followed the sound of her voice. He was soon upon her and immediately jumped from Marengo to her side. She was on her knees, both hands protectively over her stomach. She was obviously in much pain.
“Lizzy!” he cried. “What has happened? Are you hurt?” He lowered himself and knelt beside her. “Tell me what has happened!”
As she looked into his eyes, the surprise on her face was immediately replaced by one of relief that he had so quickly come to her aide. She tried to calm herself as her accelerated breathing made it very difficult to speak. “I do not know exactly. I was walking . . .” again she took a moment to catch her breath, “I was walking back towards the cottage, when I suddenly felt a sharp pain . . . here.” She indicated the lower portion of her very protruding belly and immediately turned a crimson red. “I . . . I tried to continue . . . but another pain . . . brought me to my knees.”
“Do you think you can stand?” he asked.
“I do not know. I shall try.” As she spoke a
nother pain gripped her, and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.
At that moment, Hannah reached them. “Quickly!” he said. “We must try to get her into the cottage. As Hannah went to Lizzy’s other side, Darcy instructed her to help him lift Lizzy to a standing position. Slowly, they gently raised her from her knees. As Lizzy was about to place her weight on her feet, another pain seized her, and she immediately crumbled. Darcy caught her and lifted her up before she reached the ground.
Without another thought, he positioned her carefully in his arms. “Hold on to me,” he instructed. She did as he asked and put one arm around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder as another pain swept over her body.
As quickly and carefully as he could manage, he carried her back to the cottage. Hannah ran slightly ahead and led Darcy towards Lizzy’s bed chamber. He gently placed her atop the covers. As he went to leave her side, she grabbed his hand and once again squeezed it tightly.
He quickly turned towards Hannah and asked more sharply than he had intended, “When is the midwife expected?”
“She usually arrives around three o’clock, sir,” answered a much shaken Hannah.
With his free hand he pulled out his watch; it was just eleven o’clock.
“I will go and bring her,” said Darcy.
“No!” cried Elizabeth as she strengthened her hold on his hand. “Please, do not leave me!”
He reached for the chair beside the bed and moved it closer to sit beside her. Softly he spoke to her. “Lizzy, you cannot stay like this for another four hours. I will go and bring the midwife back as quickly as I can. Hannah will be here with you. You will not be alone.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, then stoked her fingers reassuringly. “I promise you, Lizzy, I will make haste. You must try to relax and calm yourself. Promise me you will try.”
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