Thursday's Child

by Pat Santarsiero

  As the wind whipped over her face and through her hair, she felt the invigorating thrill that riding always gave her. It was a beautiful spring morning, and both she and Echoes were in high spirits.

  As she passed below the ridge, Darcy looked down at her fleeting form as she skilfully governed the horse she rode. He observed her light hold on the reins and knew she would not be slowing her pace soon.

  He had lain in wait for the last three mornings, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. His curiosity at seeing his Lizzy wearing breeches and riding astride had gotten the better of him. She is not your Lizzy, he reminded himself, but the knowledge that he had known her far more intimately than had any other man, gave him a small measure of solace and, as he had most recently discovered, an even larger amount of possessiveness.

  She had not rejected his company over the last few days, but had not sought it out either. With the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Hurst the previous afternoon, there was little chance of finding her alone. With so many guests now occupying Netherfield, she was always in company. When he did encounter her, their conversation was polite and always in full view of others. He hoped for a chance to talk to her alone. There were things that needed to be said.

  Darcy led Marengo down the ridge and, once out in the open field, followed Lizzy’s lead. She was far ahead of him but still within his sight. As he gained ground, he slowed his pace as he watched her urge her horse up a steep hill and then dismount.

  Elizabeth walked to the edge of the plateau and stood there motionless for several minutes. Though she had walked to this spot many times when she had lived at Longbourn, she never had tired of the view. Indeed, it was the best prospect in the entire county. The sound of a horse behind her startled her.

  “Mr. Darcy!”

  “Miss Bennet.” He could not conceal the slight smile that overtook his countenance as he eyed the breeches that showed off her figure to every advantage.

  Elizabeth blushed with embarrassment at having been seen wearing the much too revealing garment. “Have you followed me, sir?” she asked.

  Darcy dismounted and walked towards her. “Yes, but please do not be alarmed. I thought we could use some privacy . . . to discuss our current situation, Miss Bennet. I fear we have both avoided the subject far too long.”

  “It is a subject I am most happy to avoid, Mr. Darcy. I have tried with purpose to prevent my thinking upon it, sir.”

  She turned slightly away from him, not wishing to expose her tears to him. “I never thought I would know such happiness again. To be able to see my daughter every day has been a true blessing. I do not want to think upon the time when I must leave her.”

  Darcy, too, was not happy at the prospect of her leaving. “Perhaps we could come to some amicable arrangement,” he said, “something that might benefit us all. I have no set plan in mind, but I shall give it my fullest attention. I would welcome your thoughts on the subject as well.”

  “You . . . you would be willing . . .?”

  She stared at him for a long moment.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

  She could not describe the relief that she felt at hearing his words. He was going to allow her to continue to see her daughter in the future.

  He wanted to move closer to her, but he let himself be content, knowing the smile she gave him was genuine and that his words had pleased her.

  “I also wish to assure you that I intend to be the best of fathers to Ellie. Recent . . . events in my life had diverted my diligence in that pursuit, but I am committed to her happiness and wellbeing.”

  “I am pleased to hear that, Mr. Darcy. Her welfare had been much on my mind these past ten months.”

  “I assure you, it shall be so,” he said as he granted her a short bow.

  They stared for a moment into each other’s eyes. He then turned to look around at the panoramic view. “Where exactly are we?”

  “Why this is Oakham Mount, sir. Have you never heard of it? I used to walk it quite regularly when I lived at Longbourn.”

  He was glad that she did not seem in a hurry to part company with him, glad that she had finally smiled upon him.

  “You ride extremely well, Miss Bennet. Despite whatever teaching skills your instructor was lacking, you have mastered the art quite proficiently.”

  “I thank you. Riding became my solace those first few months after Ellie was born.” Thinking of her daughter’s name, she could no longer contain her curiosity.

  “May I ask who named her Ellie?”

  It was now Darcy’s turn to blush. “Well . . . her actual name is Anne Elizabeth, but Anne preferred to call her Ellie,” he said, “and I . . . I had no objections.”

  She studied his face as he spoke. Then they turned their attentions to the vista, looking out over the mountains as they stood side by side in companionable silence.

  As he kept his stare steady on the view before him, he said, “I had hoped you would mention my letter, Miss Bennet. Did you not receive it?”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I did.”

  She, too, did not turn her gaze. “When I first read it, I was too distraught to receive it with any civility. But upon subsequent readings, I learned to accept the sincerity of your words.” She then withdrew her eyes from the far off view they had been observing and turned to look at him.

  “Since we are to be much in each other’s company, I would wish to put all unpleasantness behind us.”

  He turned to look directly into her eyes. “That is my wish also, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy in earnest.

  “For Ellie’s sake I would wish that we can now meet as common and indifferent acquaintances, Mr. Darcy.”

  Common and indifferent acquaintances? “I would hope that we could do better than that, Miss Bennet. Could we not meet as friends, perhaps?”

  “Yes, I believe that we could, Mr. Darcy.”

  They each presented the other with a smile.

  “There is one more thing I wish to discuss, Miss Bennet, but because it might prove to be discomforting, I am afraid that it might diminish whatever harmony we have just achieved.”

  She looked at him curiously and replied with just a hint of amusement in her voice. “Considering our history, Mr. Darcy, it is hard to imagine any topic of conversation that might cause our discomfort. We are hardly strangers, sir.”

  He gave her an uneasy look as he debated whether to continue or not. Her now pleasant countenance and engaging, teasing manner made him reluctant to do anything that would upset their very fragile accord.

  As she noticed his disquiet, she offered a suggestion. “If voicing this offense serves no real purpose, perhaps it would be best to leave it unsaid.”

  “Your charity is most generous. As much as I would like to remain in your good graces, I have learned that disguise of every sort is sooner or later revealed.” He gave her a smile, but it immediately faded as he tried to temper his next words to her. He took a deep breath. “Do you recall the day you fainted?”

  “I could scarcely forget it, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Besides the obvious reason known only to you and myself, you mentioned that it might have been the result of the sleeping powders and too much brandy imbibed the night before.”

  Elizabeth nodded, confirming his words.

  “What exactly do you recall of that night?”

  She stared at him and, observing his serious demeanour, set her mind to remembering that night’s events. “I had not slept very well since . . . well . . . you know. For some reason there was a decanter of brandy in my room. In my desperate attempt to attain sleep, I drank two glasses and eventually started to drift off. I then heard a child’s cry. Of course, I did not know at the time that it was my daughter. But I was again wide awake. I remembered the sleeping powders my doctor had prescribed and took them also. However, I still could not sleep and thought perhaps a dull book might help and went down to the library.”

  “What do you remember about the library?” Darcy asked as his gaze continued to meet h
ers.

  “I remember getting a book down from one of the shelves and going over to the couch to read. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I woke up several hours later.”

  “Did you dream while you slept, Miss Bennet?”

  As soon as he asked the question, her hand went to her mouth, and she released a slight gasp.

  “How could you be aware of my dream, sir?”

  “I know of your dream because it was mine also.”

  As she suddenly realized the import of his statement, she turned a bright red.

  “I’m afraid I arrived at Netherfield that night already under the influence of several whiskeys. Add to that a bottle of Bingley’s best brandy, and, needless to say, I was quite inebriated. When I came upon you lying on the couch, I was convinced you were a dream.”

  They both stood there, staring at each other, recollecting the “dream” that was not a dream.

  Expecting her contempt, he was surprised when she said, “I suppose I should have thought twice before I stated there was no topic of conversation that might cause our discomfort, Mr. Darcy.”

  Then offering a slight smile she said, “May I suggest that we add this to the unpleasantness we have just agreed to put behind us?”

  He searched her eyes, as he confessed, “I will agree to put it behind us, Miss Bennet, but I must argue the unpleasantness.”

  Her colour only increased at his response, and she had to turn away.

  Even though reluctant to leave her and the private domain of the mountaintop, he knew they should not be seen alone together in such an intimate setting. “I think it best I leave you to resume your morning’s activities.”

  As he spoke, clouds overtook the sun and cast an ominous shadow over them. Elizabeth looked up and frowned. “Perhaps we should both head back before we get soaked.”

  He helped her mount Echoes and led the way down the hill. As they reached the fields, they did not gallop but cantered their horses, allowing him a few more minutes in her company.

  As they approached the stables, the threatening rain began its descent. When the groom approached Elizabeth to help her dismount, Darcy denied him and assisted her himself, securing his hands on her waist and lowering her slowly to the ground. As her body slid down, brushing against his own, his breeches felt tighter than hers.

  Indifferent definitely did not describe how he felt about her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  The heavy rains that had fallen the preceding evening did little to dampen the spirits of those inhabiting Netherfield on that overcast morning of the twenty-second day of April.

  Georgiana eagerly headed for the breakfast room and, as she saw Elizabeth already partaking of her morning meal, joined her new friend.

  “I’m afraid the weather has affected my plans,” said Elizabeth. “I was hoping to ride, but last night’s rain has made that prospect impossible. Have you any plans?”

  “I was only intending to practice a new piece of music my brother brought me back from London,” said Georgiana. “Perhaps we could go over it together after breakfast.”

  Elizabeth smiled and nodded in agreement while putting another spoonful of jam on her toast.

  “I have not had a chance to acquaint myself with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst as yet,” said Elizabeth. With a little hesitation she asked, “Is Mrs. Hurst much like her sister?”

  Georgiana looked around the room and, seeing that they were quite alone, replied, “Well, she can be very much like Miss Bingley at times. But I have observed when she is not in Miss Bingley’s company, she seems much friendlier. Sometimes I think Mrs. Hurst is afraid to disagree with her sister and that Miss Bingley has much influence over her.”

  “I certainly can understand such a situation,” replied Elizabeth. “When we lived at Longbourn, my sister Kitty was influenced greatly by our sister Lydia. She often imitated her careless attitude rather than defy her. Thankfully, Kitty has much improved since then. You will be able to meet Kitty and Mary in a few hours. They should arrive sometime before lunch.”

  “Your sister Lydia is married to Mr. Wickham, is she not?” asked Georgiana.

  “Why, yes; how did you know? Did Jane mention it to you?”

  “No, my brother informed me. I . . . I was once acquainted with Mr. Wickham. He was our steward’s son and lived with us for many years at Pemberley,” replied Georgiana, reverting back to her shy demeanour.

  “I once thought myself in love with him,” she said looking down at her hands in her lap.

  “I’m so sorry, Georgiana. I did not mean to remind you of unpleasant memories,” Elizabeth said as she reached for the young girl’s hand.

  “No, you did nothing wrong, Elizabeth. I am well over that entire episode of my life. If your sister has found happiness with Mr. Wickham, then I am pleased for her.”

  “Believe me, Georgiana, whatever happiness Lydia has found with Mr. Wickham will, I am sure, be of short duration. As much as I love my sister, I must confess she was never a very sensible girl. I am sure you will find a gentleman of much higher character, someone who will appreciate all your wonderful qualities.”

  Georgiana hugged her friend, thankful for her kind words. As Elizabeth hugged her back, she glanced at the doorway and observed Mr. Darcy watching them. He gave her a look that conveyed his gratitude, and she acknowledged it with a small smile. After a moment he turned away and left the room, undetected by his sister.

  The two women then turned their conversation to the evening’s ball and to gowns, laces, and slippers. Even though she was not “out” yet, Darcy had conceded to allow Georgiana to attend the ball for Jane and Mr. Bingley on the condition that she would dance only with her cousin and himself. She had readily agreed and could hardly wait for evening to fall.

  Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, and Mary arrived shortly before noon, and, to Elizabeth’s great surprise, her mother’s behaviour was, if not above reproach, at least much more subdued than Elizabeth could ever recall. It seemed that Kitty was not the only one to have benefited from the absence of Lydia from their daily lives.

  Her mother was still a bit louder than necessary and, upon her observations of the estate, a bit too effusive with her comments, but on the whole her conduct was most amenable. In a somewhat stifled manner, Mrs. Bennet greeted her ill-favoured daughter, willing to concede some civility now that she knew Mr. Bingley had provided a home upon Netherfield property for her to comfortably live out her remaining years.

  Elizabeth eyed Mr. Darcy as he was introduced to her relations and noted no particular reaction, other that his usual reticent, yet polite, demeanour.

  After tea had been served, Mr. Bingley showed the newly arrived Bennets to their rooms. There was much to be done to prepare themselves for tonight’s ball. Mrs. Hill, the only servant Mrs. Bennet could afford to keep after her departure from Longbourn, accompanied the ladies to attend their needs. She offered her services to Lizzy, as well, as she and Jane were always her favourites.

  ~*~

  Jane knocked lightly on Elizabeth’s door. “Lizzy, it’s me.” She entered her sister’s room and took a seat on the bed.

  “Mrs. Hill has outdone herself; you look beautiful, Lizzy,” said Jane.

  “And so do you, Jane,” said Elizabeth as she rose from the dressing table to give her sister a hug.

  “Jane, you’re shaking! Don’t tell me you are nervous?”

  Elizabeth sat next to Jane on the bed and took her hand. “You will undoubtedly be the most beautiful woman in attendance this evening, and Mr. Bingley will have eyes for no one but you. Surely you do not regret your decision to marry?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Oh no, not at all, Lizzy. It’s just that I’m . . . well . . . to tell the truth, I was not too worried about the wedding night,” said Jane as her complexion coloured, “until Mama came and told me what I am to expect. She did not make it sound very pleasant.”

  Elizabeth fought with all her might the urge to roll her eyes. If Jane’s pained expression wa
s any indication of what she had heard from their mother, she somehow felt obligated to relate what she could on the subject to alleviate Jane’s concerns. How she would do that without revealing the source of her knowledge, she had no idea.

  “Surely you and Mr. Bingley have shared some intimacy,” said Elizabeth. “I have seen the way you look at each other.”

  The more than rosy hue of Jane’s complexion did not diminish.

  Lizzy thought of Mr. Darcy and their last night in Scotland. There had been nothing at all unpleasant about that night. She could easily recall his actions as he skilfully brought her emotionally and physically to a peak of desire.

  “I know that many women are of the opinion that a wife’s connubial duties can be a disagreeable requirement of marriage,” said Elizabeth, unsure of how to continue. “I do not believe that will be case with you and Mr. Bingley. He loves you dearly, Jane, as you do him. Any discomfort will be brief, and the pleasure of sharing such intimacy will far outweigh any initial uneasiness. His love for you will assure he proceeds with care and tenderness.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, I know deep down in my heart that what you say must be true. You do make it sound so much more appealing than our mother has. But, how can you speak so confidently?” asked Jane.

  Elizabeth’s serious demeanour lingered for an instant, but noting Jane’s look of confusion, she quickly tried to lighten the moment. “When you meet the man your heart has been waiting for, how can it be otherwise? I have imagined it many times . . . if I am lucky enough ever to find a love like yours and Mr. Bingley’s, I am sure that is how it will be. Oh, Jane, I know you and Mr. Bingley will have a most perfect life together.”

  The two sisters hugged as Jane whispered, “Thank you, Lizzy. You have made me see the foolishness of my worry.”

  After they finally parted from their sisterly embrace, Elizabeth asked, “What of Miss Bingley? Will she be residing at Netherfield after you are married?”

  “No, Charles informed me she will be staying with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, at least for a while. She will be leaving with them right after the wedding. Have you made up your mind about staying here yet?”