by Kara Louise
Elizabeth treasured these moments alone with Thomas as she fed him. Mrs. Wilding seemed to have sensed from the beginning that Elizabeth preferred to be alone with her son at these times. She wondered if perhaps the elder woman knew from her own experience nursing her two sons how special that time could be.
As she looked down at Thomas’s face, she smiled as his little fisted hands flailed about excitedly. She let out a soft sigh listening to his contented gurgling sounds. She could not imagine missing out on such a wonderful experience.
Elizabeth did not have to think long about whether she would nurse her son. With encouragement from her aunt, from Mrs. Reynolds, and from others, she was convinced very quickly of its benefits. She could not imagine sending her very own child to someone else to feed him. It was a decision on which both she and her husband strongly agreed.
When he finished, Thomas let out a hearty burp, and Elizabeth rocked him gently in her arms. He was soon in a sound sleep.
She sat watching him for a long time, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. She and her husband were about to celebrate the one-year anniversary of their wedding day. Coupled with having this precious little baby, she did not think she could be happier.
Elizabeth tried to return to the book she was reading, but whenever her son made cooing noises in his sleep, her attention would be drawn to him. She reached in to adjust the small blanket in the cradle when a footman tapped at the door. She bid him enter, and he approached carrying a letter on a salver. She took the letter and thanked him.
Glancing at the wildly scribbled handwriting, she knew immediately who had written it. Lydia! As she began to open the letter, an ominous sense of distress encompassed her.
Lydia had written her several times in the course of the past year asking her for money. Elizabeth had not been pleased that her sister had run off with Wickham – something that could have easily ruined the reputation of the whole family. But she was still her sister, and Elizabeth hated to think that she was experiencing financial hardships due to Wickham’s reckless actions. She was able to set aside a portion of her pin money and send it to Lydia occasionally, hoping it would be put to good use. Elizabeth knew, however, that Darcy would not be happy if he discovered she had done this.
As she skimmed the letter, she let out a long sigh. What she read did not surprise her. But what Elizabeth could not comprehend was her sister’s attitude.
Dear Lizzy,
I hope you are well. I am quite certain you are, with your fine home and carriages and wardrobe and jewellery. Yes, I heard about the opal and diamond necklace and earrings your husband gave you at Christmas. Oh, that my Wickham had the means to give me those things that he wishes he could afford. You must consider yourself so fortunate to have married someone who has enough money that you have not a care in the world. I always thought Mr. Darcy so dull, but I suppose even I could have put up with him to have all the things that he would give me.
Wickham and I have left Newcastle. I cannot tell you how happy I am to be gone from there. We were both so tired of the place, and Wickham felt he needed a change. How delighted I was when he told me to get our things packed up because we were leaving that very night!
You cannot imagine how exciting it was, Lizzy, to steal away in the darkness of night! And to not even know where we would end up! What a joke it must have been when everyone discovered we were gone! Right now we are at the Oxbow Inn in Sheffield! I am sure it will be a much more pleasant place to live. Oh! Newcastle was so cold and dreary!
I am sure it will take my husband time to secure a good paying job here. Neither of us thought the militia was suited for my Mr. Wickham. I may need more money than what you normally have sent in the past, so please save a little more of that pin money your husband so generously lavishes on you. You can send it to me at the inn.
And oh! La! You are to be a mother soon. Perhaps you already are. If so, please tell me if it is as horrid as I have heard. Jane has lost one, you know. I am finally with child and hope that it will not be terribly unbearable when the time comes. You may also send some extra for the baby. I am certain you shall!
Your loving sister, Lydia
Elizabeth sat still, contemplating what trouble Wickham may have found himself in to force the two of them to steal away at night. She wondered whether he would ever become the responsible man that he ought to be. One would think the prospect of having a child would shake enough sense into them to change their behaviour. She found it difficult to believe their child would not be adversely affected by Wickham’s dissolute behaviour and Lydia’s immaturity. Thinking about it made her tremble.
Thomas seemed to sense her exasperation and let out a cry.
“Oh, Thomas, you little one! You knew I was upset. Pray, forgive me!” Her eyes turned upward and she said softly, “I cannot allow concern for Lydia to disturb my happiness!”
Elizabeth stood up and rang for Mrs. Wilding. When she came in, Elizabeth asked her to take Thomas back up to the nursery. She kissed his cheek and placed him in her arms.
She decided to go to the study to see if Mr. Harlton had arrived, and if he and her husband were still busy. As she approached the door, she recognized her husband’s voice, and she could tell he was displeased about something.
She walked quietly to the door and stopped. Just as she was about to knock, the door opened. Darcy’s valet, Edwards, stood at the door facing her husband, and was backing out.
“And pack an overnight bag, just in case!” Elizabeth heard her husband say.
“Yes, sir!” Edwards said, turning. “Oh, Mrs. Darcy! I beg your pardon!” He quickly stepped out of the way so she could enter, and then he left.
Darcy and Mr. Harlton both stood up when they saw Elizabeth. The solicitor politely bowed and inquired how she and the baby were doing. There was nothing in his face that indicated distress on his part, but the pinched brows on her husband’s forehead and his clenched fists at his side told her another story. She could not help but wonder whether the solicitor had come to address something regarding Wickham.
Elizabeth replied as cheerfully as she could that she and Thomas could not be better. She stole a side-glance at her husband, and in the few moments her attention was directed at Mr. Harlton, his demeanour softened. She saw that his worried expression was replaced with a smile, and his fist now reached out toward her in an open hand.
“You are going away?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. We were just going to find you so I could tell you. Have you had breakfast?”
“I came by to see if you wanted to eat.”
“Come.” Darcy extended his arm to her. “I shall tell you about it.”
As they walked to the dining room, Elizabeth no longer sensed any concern on her husband’s part. It was not an easy task for him to put aside the anger he felt toward Wickham, so she was somewhat relieved that whatever business Darcy had with Mr. Harlton, it likely had nothing to do with that man. And since the mere mention of Wickham’s name produced such a disturbance in her husband’s disposition, she dared not mention anything to him about her sister’s letter. She simply found it easier not to.
They walked into the dining room. The aromas from the kitchen and Darcy’s composed manner removed any thought or concern Elizabeth may have felt.
As they sat down to eat, Darcy leaned forward in his chair and planted both his palms on the table. Looking at Elizabeth he said, “I regret that some business I need to address has come up unexpectedly, and I shall have to leave first thing in the morning.” He reached out and clasped her hand. “You know I would do anything to remain here.”
“You shall be gone overnight?” she asked, recollecting what his valet said.
“Most likely. I do not think it should be any longer than that.” He released her hand and waved his through the air. “It is truly nothing to be concerned about, but something that requires my attention.”
When he looked down and began to eat, Elizabeth asked, “Where
will you be going?”
“Not far.” He picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “It is only a thirty minute journey from here.”
Elizabeth hoped he would offer more information, but that was all he would say. She knew very little about the management of Pemberley and even less about the ventures in which he was involved, and therefore asked no more.
*~*~*
The next morning Darcy was up early. Edwards had everything packed, and Mr. Harlton and Darcy set off after he smothered his wife and son with hugs and kisses. He promised Elizabeth that he would return home most likely some time before dusk on the morrow.
As the carriage rolled away, Elizabeth stood holding Thomas, waving his little hand at his father.
She returned to the house, revelling in the crisp autumn air. She looked out to the trees that had lost most of their auburn leaves and thought she would like to take a leisurely walk out amongst them. She slipped back into the house and wrapped Thomas securely in a blanket and told both Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Wilding that she would be out taking a stroll with her son.
When she stepped out, she was grateful that at the moment she did not feel the degree of fatigue that she had been feeling of late. She knew that it could come on with only a mild exertion, so she decided she would remain outdoors for only a short while.
She strolled and pointed out to her son the crystal blue pond, the barren trees and the evergreens, the gardens that were void of flowers, the rich blue sky, and the wispy clouds. As they walked, however, Elizabeth began to ponder what she ought to do about Lydia. She could not continue to send her money and not tell her husband. Each time she furtively sent off a missive to her sister, she told herself it was the last time. But then the next letter would come that begged for her assistance.
It was different now that Lydia was going to have a baby. Elizabeth pulled Thomas close as she contemplated having to raise a child not knowing whether his father would provide for him. She wondered whether either of them would ever learn responsibility. She shook her head and blurted, “Most likely not.”
Especially if I continue to help them. That thought startled her. Where did it come from and was it true? And was she truly the only one who could and would help them?
Elizabeth kicked a small rock in the path, sending it flying off into the shrubbery. She was concerned that her willingness to send them money was only allowing them to continue living irresponsibly. But more than that, she felt terrible that she was hiding this from her husband.
She walked back to the house, not really having made a decision. She would think about it later. While her husband was gone, she wanted to speak with Mrs. Reynolds about a very important day that was coming up in just over a week – their first anniversary.
*~*~*
With her husband away from Pemberley this day and the next, Elizabeth knew she could readily discuss some details with Mrs. Reynolds to make their anniversary a very special day for the two of them. She did not have to worry about him overhearing their discussion or inquiring what it was the two ladies were up to.
She wanted to have a delicious candlelit dinner served in the small parlour. She talked to Mrs. Reynolds about hiring a stringed ensemble to serenade them from the music room, which was next to the parlour, while they ate. The housekeeper knew exactly who to hire and sent someone out immediately to make the arrangements.
Another part of Elizabeth’s plan was made so much easier with her husband’s absence. She smiled as she thought about the painting she had commissioned for him. It was now completed and was being kept at Mrs. Gardiner’s brother’s home in Lambton. She would send off a note immediately to Mr. Braeburn and ask to have it delivered to Pemberley at his earliest convenience.
After spending some time with Thomas, feeding him, and unashamedly admiring him, Elizabeth sent the baby with Mrs. Wilding to be put down to rest, and she went to her study. She sat down at her desk to pen the note to her aunt’s brother, but when she opened the desk drawer, her eyes set upon Lydia’s letter. A heavy weight seemed to tug at her heart. She had not thought about it all morning. What should she do? There was only one thing she could do. She would send Lydia some money.
She penned a note telling Lydia that ten pounds was all she could afford to send her and that she would not be able to send any more money. When she was finished, she looked up from her desk and bit her lip. Did her husband know about Wickham? Was he kept apprised of his situation? He never made any reference to the man, and his name had not been spoken since before their wedding.
She opened a small box that she kept tucked away in a bottom drawer and pulled out the money she would send to Lydia. After addressing and sealing the envelope, she began her other, more pleasant missive.
This letter would result in a much more pleasing outcome. Mr. Braeburn would bring the painting she had commissioned earlier in the year from a London artist her aunt had suggested. The man came highly recommended and she could not wait to see it. It was a painting of Pemberley and the surrounding grounds!
Elizabeth gave both letters to one of the footmen and asked that they be sent immediately. There was nothing to worry about in posting a letter to her sister, as she frequently wrote to her family. When he left, she returned to the sitting room to read.
*~*~*
Elizabeth had been reading in the sitting room for almost an hour when she heard the sound of horses out front. She rushed to the window and looked out to see a cart. She let out a cry of elation when she spotted a large package in it.
She rushed toward the front and met Mrs. Reynolds on the way. “I believe the painting is here!”
Mrs. Reynolds clasped her hands together. “Oh, I cannot wait to see it!” She followed Elizabeth to the front. Georgiana arrived a moment later.
Just as they reached the door, Haywood opened it. Mr. Braeburn stepped in carrying the large package. He was a tall man with slightly greying hair. A few years older than Mrs. Gardiner, he always wore a friendly smile. Elizabeth had met him on two different occasions.
“Hello, Mr. Braeburn. Thank you so much for all you did in getting this painting to us! I know it must not have been the most convenient thing to transport from London and then to keep it at your home until now. And I am so glad you were able to deliver it while my husband was away!”
“It was no trouble at all! I would do anything for the Darcys and almost anything for my sister!” He let out a jovial laugh. “Now I promise that I have not peeked at it, for I thought you should be the first to see it. But if you do not mind, Mrs. Darcy, I would love to see it once you have.”
“Well then, shall we unwrap it?”
Mr. Braeburn, Haywood, Georgiana, and Mrs. Reynolds nodded.
They all worked together to carefully tear off the paper protecting it. Elizabeth found herself holding her breath as bits of it were revealed. Finally, the majesty of Pemberley was before them in a gorgeous painting.
Mrs. Reynolds clasped her hands over her heart and sighed. “It is so beautiful!”
“It is a masterpiece,” Mr. Braeburn said. “Captures all the beauty and elegance of Pemberley.”
Haywood nodded. “It is stunning!”
“Oh, Elizabeth, I think Fitzwilliam will love it!” Georgiana exclaimed.
Elizabeth could not speak. It was more magnificent than she could have ever imagined. “It is…”
They all looked at her. “Do you like it?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.
Tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes and she nodded. “I am most pleased!”
They stood together talking about it for some time, commenting on the glistening water of the stream and pond, the array of flowers blooming in the garden, and the fine detail of the stately manor.
“Do you know when the gentleman came to paint it?” asked Mrs. Reynolds. “I never saw anyone out there.”
“I am not certain, but it may have been at Easter when we went to Rosings. I told him we would be from home and there would be less chance of Mr. Darcy discovering him.”
“I know Mr. Darcy will be most pleased,” Haywood said. “He is proud of Pemberley, and this painting depicts the very heart of her!”
“Yes, I believe it most certainly does!” Elizabeth said with great satisfaction.
Later that evening Elizabeth stood before the painting with Thomas in her arms. “Look, Thomas, there is your bedroom.” Elizabeth pointed to one of the windows in the painting. “And there is the sitting room, where we spend a good amount of our time together.”
Thomas cooed and waved his chubby little hands.
“Yes, I know that you like that room.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “We have good times there, do we not?”
Elizabeth stepped back and sighed. “It is a beautiful home, Thomas. And one day you shall realize just how fortunate you are to have been born a Darcy.”
Thomas cooed again.
“Perhaps you already do.”
The next day the painting was wrapped back up in paper and hidden away in a back room.
*~*~*
It was not until dusk the following day that Darcy returned to Pemberley. Elizabeth was in the sitting room with Thomas, and hoped that she could keep him awake until his father came home.
Thomas had just fallen asleep when she heard the sound of the horses and carriage. She picked him up and began talking to him, hoping he would open his big green eyes. She rushed to the door, eager to greet her husband.
When Darcy and his solicitor walked in, they greeted Haywood, and then Darcy saw his wife and son. He reached out to them with open arms.
“How I have missed the two of you!” he said with great joy. He took the baby from her and held him out in front of him, prompting Thomas to let out a whimper. “Did you miss me, my boy?”
Elizabeth placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “We both did… terribly.”
Darcy leaned over and kissed his wife. “It is good to be home.”
He looked at Mr. Harlton. “I know you are fatigued and want to leave first thing in the morning. I shall have someone show you to your room.” He handed Thomas back to Elizabeth and then reached out to shake his solicitor’s hand. “I appreciate all you did!” With that, he waved to one of the footmen.