by Kara Louise
“Oh, Charlotte!” exclaimed Elizabeth, reaching out to her. “How are you? Look, Fitzwilliam. Is Jacob not the cutest baby? “
“He is, Mrs. Collins. A very handsome boy.”
“Thank you both. He is so good. I must admit I count my blessings every day for the gift of a precious son. God has been good to us.”
“I can see that, Charlotte.” Elizabeth smiled warmly. “Where is Mr. Collins now?”
“He is at the church. There is so much to be done for Easter services on Sunday. He has been kept very busy.” She looked at Elizabeth and smiled. “But little Jacob is very good at keeping me company. Would you like to hold him, Lizzy?”
“Oh, yes! May I?” Charlotte handed the squirming little boy to Elizabeth. He was about three months old and quite responsive to everything around him.
They sat down, and Darcy affably watched Elizabeth and Charlotte talk while Elizabeth held the baby. He could not help but wonder when they, too, would have a child. He enjoyed having his wife all to himself at present, but in watching the joy she expressed in holding this little baby, he knew she would love being a mother and would someday make a wonderful one.
Elizabeth suddenly turned to him. “Fitzwilliam, would you like to hold Jacob?”
“Uh… no… that is all right, you can keep him.”
Elizabeth stood up and walked over to him. “Come, now. Do you not think you should get a little practice in this area?”
Darcy looked up at her. “Why? Is there something you have not told me?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, not yet. But I am sure someday. Here…”
Darcy reluctantly took the baby and propped him up against him. The baby began to cry, and Darcy quickly picked him up and held him out towards Elizabeth. “He does not seem to like me.”
“Oh, I am sure he does. You just need to see what it is he wants.”
Darcy silently wondered how he was to know that.
“He may have a tooth trying to break through; let him bite down on your finger,” Charlotte suggested.
“Excuse me?”
Elizabeth laughed. “He has no teeth yet, so it will not hurt. But if he has teeth coming in, rubbing his gums with your finger may help ease the pain.”
Darcy cautiously put one of his fingers in Jacob's mouth. The baby seemed content with that and stopped crying as he began to gnaw on the offered finger. Darcy looked up and smiled. “Look what I did,” he boasted. “I got him to stop crying!”
“You see? You have a natural ability.” Lizzy smiled back.
The two ladies talked, and Darcy finally excused himself to return to Rosings, but only after walking around the room with the baby, getting down on the floor with him, and trying to teach him to crawl. He had watched in utter amazement when Jacob later fell asleep in his arms. When he walked back to Rosings, he could not believe what an enjoyable time he had – and with just a baby!
His aunt was waiting for him when he arrived. “You spent a prodigious amount of time there, Nephew. I thought you would be coming back directly,” his aunt’s voice rang with strong resolution.
“I lost track of the time. I am sorry, Aunt.”
“Well, there is something about which I must talk with you. I have sent Fitzwilliam to run some errands for me, and Georgiana is visiting with Anne. Come; let us go into the drawing room.”
*~*~*
That afternoon, when Elizabeth returned to Rosings, she could not find her husband. As she walked up to their room, she stopped when she heard her name called by one of the servants. “Mrs. Darcy, Lady Catherine would like to see you in the drawing room, if you please.”
Elizabeth thanked her with her words, but in her heart felt something completely different. She hoped that when she stepped into that room, she would see her husband already there.
Elizabeth went to the drawing room and when she stepped in, she came to an abrupt stop. Lady Catherine was in there waiting, alone.
“Well, come in, Elizabeth. I assume you were told I wished to speak with you.” She waved to a chair across from her, inviting Elizabeth to sit down.
“Yes, I was, Lady Catherine.”
The older woman sat still and erect, but tapped her fingers on the arms of the chair. “Earlier today I talked with my nephew, uh… your hus…”
“Lady Catherine,” interrupted Elizabeth, “you may not be happy that I married your nephew, but we are now married, and you must come to accept it!”
Lady Catherine met Elizabeth’s eyes. “I wondered where that bold spirit of yours had been hiding. You have seemed uncommonly quiet since coming here.” She opened a fan she held in her hand and began to fan her face with it.
“Lady Catherine, I…”
She put up her hand to stop Elizabeth. “You dictate to me that I must accept the fact that you are married. Well, I not only accept it, I wholeheartedly accept it. I do not believe there is a finer woman for him than you.”
The look of astonishment that swept across Elizabeth’s face was not missed by Lady Catherine.
Lady Catherine leaned back in her chair and pointed the now closed fan at Elizabeth as she spoke. “Do you remember, young lady, when you were here last year, and you were about to leave, what I asked you to do?”
Elizabeth thought back. “I believe you asked me to write to my mother and beg her to let me stay.”
Lady Catherine nodded her head, “That is correct. I truly wished for you to stay! Do you think I would have asked that if I had not thoroughly enjoyed your company?”
Elizabeth contemplated Lady Catherine’s question as well as her answer, and a realization that she had found favour with Lady Catherine swept over her. “I would imagine not.”
“Elizabeth, few people ever stand up to me, even fewer contradict me. That is fine, most of the time. I tolerate provocation rarely, welcome it even less. But with you, I welcomed it. I enjoyed interacting with you, and was most sincerely grieved when you took your leave from this place.”
She paused, as if gaining strength for what she was about to say. She looked intently at her hands and began to rub her index finger as if there was a blemish on it she was trying to remove. “When I went to Longbourn to meet with you, I wanted nothing more than to prevent a marriage between you and my nephew. I could not so easily relinquish that fervent expectation I had of a marriage between him and my daughter.” She lifted her eyes to Elizabeth. “Certainly you can understand that. When I could not secure a guarantee from you in that regard, I went to him. I have been very grieved these last few months knowing that my nephew and I were estranged from each other. I have been deeply distressed. He has always been my favourite…”
It seemed to Elizabeth that Lady Catherine was on the verge of tears when she paused to take in a deep breath.
“It has become very apparent to me that the two of you are very much in love and are right for each other.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied sincerely.
They conversed amiably for another twenty minutes before Elizabeth finally took her leave. She smiled as she considered how different the outcome of their meeting had been from what she had suspected it would be. She realized that Lady Catherine never truly apologized, but this was probably the closest she had ever come to apologizing to anyone. Elizabeth graciously accepted the woman’s attempt to reconcile the family and anxiously awaited her husband's return to ascertain what his aunt may have said to him.
Later that day, when they were finally alone, Elizabeth told her husband what had transpired between his aunt and herself, and then asked him what she had said to him.
“She told me that she was mistaken in her opinions of you in regards to being my wife, and that now she believes there could not be a finer woman for me.”
“So you two have apologized and forgiven each other?”
Darcy sharply raised a brow. “I do not believe any apology was offered up…” Then he smiled and nodded his head. “But yes, I do believe we have forgiven each other.”
*~*~*
The remainder of the week was spent with very little agitation from Lady Catherine. It truly appeared as though she had fully embraced the idea of her nephew being married to Elizabeth. They went to Easter services on Sunday, and Elizabeth was in a much better disposition to hear Mr. Collins's sermon this year than last. Elizabeth was of the mind that his sermons may have even improved slightly. She found herself silently chuckling, however, with every anecdote he shared about his son. She counted at least four, and knew that he would have an endless supply of stories for his sermons by the time Jacob grew up.
As the services ended and everyone gathered outside the church to extend Easter greetings to one another, Elizabeth felt a swelling of contentment. She knew Easter was about the gift of forgiveness. She had come to Rosings with the hope that forgiveness would be received and given, and it was. She was satisfied, knowing that they all had truly experienced the reconciliation that the Easter message offered.
Their visit opened the door for Aunt Catherine to be welcomed back at Pemberley. Although she continued to have a very sharp and brittle tongue, she was most careful to avoid any criticism or comment that might cause another rift that would once again separate her from her favourite nephew and Pemberley.
May Day
When Elizabeth presented the idea for a May Day picnic to her husband, the excitement in her voice and the gleam in her eyes would not allow him to disappoint her, and he heartily agreed.
About two weeks before May Day, Elizabeth stood at the window in her private office looking out towards the front of the house and the expanse of green grass that carpeted the area. To the left, she could see the edge of the small crystal blue lake; to the right, a grove of trees. In front of her, a bed of flowers bloomed in a myriad of colours.
She glanced down at the pair of silhouettes sitting on the window ledge and smiled. She reached down to straighten the frame holding the profile of her husband and jumped slightly when arms came about her and pulled her close. She turned her head slightly and smiled.
“Are you admiring my profile?” Darcy asked.
“I fear you were in need of a little straightening. What can I do for you?”
“I was merely wondering how the plans for the picnic are coming along.”
“Quite well. Mrs. Reynolds is wonderful!”
“I am convinced she is happier now that she is using her skills to organize events such as these.” He walked around Elizabeth and casually leaned against the wall. “I have even heard her humming to herself as she walks around the house.”
“Truly?”
Darcy nodded. “She always seemed to be the happiest in the midst of some big event, whether it was a ball, a large gathering, or even a May Day picnic.”
“Did you know,” Elizabeth asked him, “that my aunt came to a May Day picnic at Pemberley years ago when she was younger?”
“Did she?” he said. “I know precisely the one she most likely attended, as it was the very last one we had. I was just a young boy.”
Elizabeth marvelled that her aunt and her husband had probably seen each other, maybe even spoken to each other, that day years ago.
“I have fond memories of attending a May Day celebration as a young girl when Jane and I visited our aunt and uncle in London. A large Maypole had been put up in St. James Park, and we gleefully watched as the trained dancers performed to music, the plaited ribbons being woven down the pole taking on a kaleidoscope of patterned colours.” Elizabeth told Darcy that it was hard to decide which was more enjoyable to watch – the dancers or the ribbons.
“Did you not have a Maypole in your neighbourhood?” Darcy asked.
Elizabeth smiled as she related to her husband how a Maypole had once been put up in Meryton. “It was a pity because no one seemed to know what to do with it. That resulted in children merely skipping gaily about and getting tangled up in the ribbons.”
“You know the idea of the Maypole is that two young people might end up being tangled together and fall in love.”
Elizabeth laughed. “It is fortunate, then, that I found myself wrapped up in the ribbons with no one else at my side.”
“Ha! That is because I was not yet there to share the entanglement with you!” Darcy exclaimed as he wrapped his arms about her waist. “It is a pity that Bingley and I did not come to Netherfield in the spring!”
Elizabeth tilted her head and began fingering her husband’s neckcloth. “I fear that if I had seen you anywhere near a Maypole, I would have adamantly refused to participate in the dance!”
Darcy looked at her with a glint in his eyes and pulled her up against him. “Perhaps if we had gotten tangled up together, I could have had the opportunity to make you fall in love with me sooner.”
“Perhaps!” Elizabeth said as she reached up on her toes and kissed him on the chin. “But I gravely doubt it!”
“You grieve me, Elizabeth!” He tightened his hold about her. “Was there nothing I could have done early on in our acquaintance to change your opinion of me?”
Elizabeth thought on this a moment. “Perhaps, if you had faithfully described the beautiful prospect from this very window, and promised me that this small study would be my very own private office, I might have seen you in a better light.”
“Hmmmph!” snorted Darcy. “You would have come here and locked yourself in, never venturing out because you so disliked my company!”
“We shall never know.” Elizabeth ran the back of her fingers across her husband’s cheek. “But, in order to make amends, would you promise me at least one Maypole dance?”
Darcy clasped his hand over her fingers. “I will do it only under the condition that you end up tangled with me!”
“I would have it no other way!”
Darcy brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them.
*~*~*
Two days before May Day, Elizabeth stood at the window in her bedchamber and gazed out. The sky was blue and only a few clouds dotted the sky. The groundskeepers were busy trimming the bushes, weeding the flower beds, and watering the grounds. But what caught Elizabeth's attention – as well as her joyful consideration – was the large Maypole being put in the ground by some of the groundskeepers.
The Maypole had been strung with sixteen long lengths of wide ribbon in a variety of colours. Once it was up and secure, a wreath of flowers would be placed on top. She could imagine the children having fun twirling around the pole, each hanging on to a length of ribbon. But what would be most enjoyable would be to watch Mrs. Turner, a Lambton resident, guide and direct the revellers as they moved in and out around one another in a variety of dances, causing the ribbons to form different braided patterns as they wound around and down the pole. She was thrilled that this local woman was willing to teach the different dances to everyone.
Elizabeth watched the colourful ribbons of the Maypole sway freely in the breeze, almost as if they were dancing to some music only they could hear. They whipped and curled, and occasionally fell limp, sometimes in a uniform fashion and other times at variance with one another.
She sighed as she brought her hand to her stomach. She was grateful for all the extra help that was available, as she had not felt well the past few days. She felt more tired than usual and her stomach stirred ominously. She anxiously thought that this could be the beginning of an influenza. It would certainly not be a good time for her to become ill. But perhaps… she wondered whether it might be the side effects of something much more pleasant.
She was not certain, but she recognized enough of the symptoms to know it was possible that she was going to have a baby. She did not want to tell her husband until she knew for certain. She decided that she would wait and try to manage as best she could. If it was an illness, she hoped she would be over it by the day of the picnic. If not… she suddenly felt giddy with anticipation that in less than nine months, a child would be theirs!
Elizabeth suddenly felt unsteady and quickly reached for a chair, gripping the back of
it. She reasoned she had done too much the past few days helping Mrs. Reynolds with all the preparations. She slowly sat down and lowered her head, wishing for all these ill feelings to go away.
She was aware of nothing until she heard her husband calling out her name.
“Elizabeth, Elizabeth! What is the matter? Are you unwell?”
She slowly lifted her head and gazed at him with an absent look in her eyes. She could not recall what she had been doing, or even where she was, for the first few moments. She reached out and took his arm.
“I must have dozed off. I remember sitting here, and I guess I put my head down...”
“Elizabeth, I fear you have been doing too much. There are enough people here to take care of everything that must be done. I must insist that you rest and let Mrs. Reynolds take care of any remaining details for this picnic! I would not wish for you to be ill when we have a village full of people on the grounds. I beg you not to tire yourself out.”
Elizabeth listened groggily as he issued his commands. He sounded harsh, but there was a look of concern etched across his face. “I shall be all right, Fitzwilliam.”
“Promise me, Elizabeth.”
She looked up at him, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea assault her as she raised her head. She breathed in deeply, hoping her husband would not notice. Eager for him to leave quickly, she decided the best thing to do would be to agree to his terms.
“I promise.”
“Good! Now, what else did you have planned today? You can stay in here and rest, and I will arrange for it to be done.”
Elizabeth continued to breathe in slowly, wanting desperately to put her head back down. “I believe I… I… have accomplished everything I needed done today.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.” She felt worse each passing moment, but managed to force a smile.
“All right, then. I want to know immediately if you require anything. I shall be downstairs in the library.” He glanced at her one last time before slowly leaving the room. He hated to see her unwell.