by Linda Wells
One morning Darcy arose at dawn, and dressed. He returned to sit on the edge of the bed and found Elizabeth awake and waiting for him. “I wish that you did not have to go.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I wish that I did not either, but unfortunately, it is part of my duties.” He kissed her head. “With this early start, Mr. Regar and I should be able to speak to all of the tenants of our plans and hopefully be home in time for dinner.”
“You will be exhausted.” She stroked the hair from his brow, and looked at him with concern.
Darcy laughed. “I will be fine. Now I expect you to rest.”
“Oh William, I am perfectly healthy. Tell me to rest when I am as big as this house!” Her eyes sparkled at him.
“Very well, but please promise me you will not walk far or alone.” He kissed her gently. “Please.” Their eyes met and held.
“I promise, Will.” He nodded and bent to kiss her again, then with a wave from the door, was on his way.
After a lazy morning and long bath, Elizabeth wandered downstairs to a late breakfast. She sat alone at the table, and was relieved when a footman entered with a note.
Mrs. Darcy,
I realize this is very short notice, but if you are available, I would like to invite you to come spend the day with me. I enjoyed so much meeting you and your sister, and was delighted to learn that you and Mr. Darcy had returned to Derbyshire. My coachman will wait for your answer, and will of course provide transportation.
Sincerely,
Sarah Hill
Elizabeth smiled. She remembered Mrs. Hill, a quiet, friendly woman, who seemed vastly uncomfortable in the society of the rather effusive Derbyshire ladies. She reminded her of Jane in many ways. To have her send a note requesting Elizabeth’s company so soon after their return indicated either a great loneliness or at the least, a desire for a friend. A year ago, Elizabeth would have instantly agreed to the meeting and entered the coach without a thought, but now, no. She could imagine William’s panic if he came home early and found her gone. She went to their study and sat down to pen her reply.
Mrs. Hill,
I would very much enjoy spending the day with you; however, I find I am unable to leave Pemberley today. If you are available, you are welcome to join me here, as my husband is away all day and I would enjoy the company. I look forward to knowing you better.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Darcy
She sealed the note and gave it to be delivered to the Hill’s coachman. She smiled. It would be wonderful to have a friend here. Jane was close, but not close enough for daily talks, and she knew the Hills lived in a country house nearby. An hour later a second note arrived, indicating that Mrs. Hill also could not leave home, but instead offered to invite both Darcys to dinner the following week. Elizabeth liked that idea even more, and sent back a note of acceptance. It was obvious that word had quickly spread that they were returned, as many other invitations began to appear throughout the day. She looked at them and sighed. They had escaped town only to be thrown back into the social rounds of Derbyshire. She was actually surprised at the number of invitations, expecting most of the prominent residents to be in London for the Season. Perhaps she and William were not the only ones anxious to return to the clean air of the countryside. Or perhaps he was not the only dedicated farmer in the area. As predicted, William did return hours earlier than he originally planned and she was pleased with her decision to stay home, particularly when he spotted her resting in a chaise on a sunny balcony and smiling broadly, swept her up in his arms and insisted he could not possibly remove all of the road dust without his wife’s thorough assistance in his bath.
A few days before they were to depart for Lyndon Hall, Elizabeth was discussing household plans with Mrs. Reynolds in her own office when a maid entered with a small box, curtseyed and left. Elizabeth glanced at it and continued with her orders for household supplies when she noted her housekeeper’s sad expression. “Mrs. Reynolds, are you well?”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.” She sighed and handed her the box. “I have kept these, and had them laundered. I hope very much that they will finally be put to good use.”
Elizabeth opened the box and inside she found dozens of baby items, gowns, bonnets, socks and booties, some knitted, some exquisitely embroidered, all beautiful. She looked up with a smile. “You have already given me such beautiful things; did you make these as well?”
“No, Mrs. Darcy. These clothes were made by Mr. Darcy’s mother.”
Her smile grew, “How wonderful! But why were they never used for William or Georgiana?”
Mrs. Reynolds wiped a tear. “Each time that Mrs. Darcy was with child, she began making new outfits. Each time she lost the child, she asked that I destroy them. I never did.”
Elizabeth gasped. “These are for the ones who never came.” Mrs. Reynolds nodded. “How many were there?” She said, now sadly fingering the tiny garments.
“There were six others, all after your Mr. Darcy’s birth. She lost them all at about the same point . . .”
“As I did.” Elizabeth finished. She looked up to Mrs. Reynolds. “Did William know that she was with child?”
“I think he knew of the first, after that loss, she no longer said anything, so I doubt that anyone but I ever knew.”
“She did not tell her husband?” Mrs. Reynolds shook her head. “But why?”
Mrs. Reynolds smiled. “Mrs. Darcy suffered greatly after Mr. Darcy’s birth. She took months to recover. She was a very delicate woman. I met the late Miss de Bourgh once, and they were very similar, so perhaps you have an idea there. Old Mr. Darcy did not truly realize how ill she was, as she hid it so well, and after the first miscarriage, and seeing his distress, she decided to keep the pregnancies secret until she was sure all was well. It was not until Miss Darcy’s birth that her body finally gave out.”
“What exactly did take her life? William has never spoken of it, although he was just a boy at the time.”
“She laboured for two days with Miss Darcy. When she was finally able to complete the delivery, she was exhausted and never recovered.” Mrs. Reynolds began to cry with the memory. Elizabeth held her hand and she pulled herself together. “Forgive me Mrs. Darcy. I do not mean to frighten you by telling you these things; I just thought it would please Mrs. Darcy so much in heaven if she could look down and see her grandchild wearing the clothes that she made.”
Elizabeth wiped her eyes and squeezed her hand. “I think it is a wonderful idea, and you have not frightened me at all. I cannot wait to see these things on our baby where they belong, not waiting in a box. I am so glad that you saved them for our child.” She rose and left the room, carrying the box up to the nursery. She carefully lifted out each item, laying them out and admiring the fine work when she felt a pair of large hands creep around her waist and warm breath on her neck, followed by lips nibbling her ear.
“What have you there, my beautiful wife?” Elizabeth leaned back into his embrace, and lost herself in the sound of his deep voice.
Shaking her head to clear it from the lovely place he was taking her, she smiled. “It is a baby gift.”
“From whom?” He said, now gently caressing her swelling belly.
“Your mother.” She softly said. His hands stopped and he turned her around.
“My mother?” He looked at her with confusion.
She nodded. “She made these, and they were never worn. Mrs. Reynolds saved them hoping that someday your child would use them.”
Darcy looked at the garments anew, and a great dimpled smile spread over his face. “I do not know what to say, to have something my mother made be worn by our baby, I am so delighted! I will have to thank Mrs. Reynolds.” He beamed. “They were never used? Why did she make them? Surely Georgiana could have worn them?”
Elizabeth had no intention of distressing him. “Perhaps they were put aside and forgotten.”
He knit his brow, and then smiled. “Well, I am so happy th
ey will be used as they were intended now.” He hugged her.
“So am I, William.” She tilted her head back and stood on her toes to kiss his lips.
“Mmmmmm. Lizzy, is it not time for you to take a nap?” He mumbled against her mouth.
“Will I actually experience rest, my love?” He laughed and looked down into her sparkling eyes.
He kissed her nose and taking her hand he led her into their room. “Eventually.”
“WHEN SHALL WE LEAVE for Derbyshire, Thomas?” Mrs. Bennet asked as she entered her husband’s library and took a seat before his desk.
Mr. Bennet regarded his excited wife from over his glasses. “I was not aware that we had been invited. Have you received a letter from one of our daughters?”
“Well, no, but Jane’s confinement will soon be over. Surely she will want her mother by her side when the baby comes!” She beamed at him.
“Fanny, until we receive their invitation, I will not impose ourselves upon them. I understand that Lizzy and Mr. Darcy will be coming to stay with them and will remain until the birth.”
“Oh, but Lizzy has never been present at a birth, what help can she give? It is at times like this that a girl needs her mother. I will do the same when Lizzy’s time comes.” She said this with great confidence.
“Mrs. Bennet, despite the fact that we have two very well-situated daughters, WE are not in possession of excess funds. We will not be making two trips to Derbyshire. Jane has indicated that they will welcome our visit in September. By that time, both of our grandchildren will have arrived, and we can enjoy meeting them together. As I know that Lizzy approves of this plan, I cannot go against it.”
“But we could at least go in August so I could be with Lizzy . . .”
“No, Fanny. I will not go to Pemberley without Mr. Darcy’s explicit desire.” His voice held a tone of resignation to it.
Mrs. Bennet sighed, she truly wished to be with her daughters at this most frightening and wonderful moment in their lives, but was also aware that the years of her silly behaviour had most likely driven them to desire her absence. She looked at her husband. They had become so close over the last months. It was extraordinary. They were almost as happy as they had been when they first married. No, that was wrong, happier, because now they had years of shared experience between them, and knew each other so well. A new sensitivity to him had blossomed, and she sensed a great weight on his shoulders. “Thomas, what is wrong between you and Mr. Darcy?”
He startled out of his reverie. “I do not wish to discuss it Fanny.”
“Please, Thomas, we have made great progress, and you are obviously sad.” She got up and stood near his chair, and caressed his hair.
He sighed and rose, and taking her hand led her to the sofa near the window. Mrs. Bennet knew nothing of what he had done, or of the events at Pemberley a year before. “I will not give you all of the details. They are inconsequential now. Just suffice it to say, when Mr. Darcy asked me for permission to court Lizzy, I objected in a most cruel way. I accused him of atrocious behaviours and told Lizzy that he would be unfaithful to her in an effort to change her mind. I made great efforts to learn of his character, and when I found nothing wanting, I attempted to engage someone to try to separate them. When Mr. Darcy came and asked for my consent for their marriage, I refused . . .” He stared at the floor, then closed his eyes, the tears coming quickly. “And then I saw my family walking towards Meryton, and knew that I had one chance to still keep my daughter somehow in my life, so I ran after you. I saw the door to the church close and I ran as fast as I could to catch up and thankfully, in time to give her away to the best man I have ever known.” He looked back up to his wife. “Something that I did to try and prevent their attachment led to a horrible act of violence being perpetrated upon Lizzy. She nearly died.” Mrs. Bennet gasped. “Mr. Darcy, who already had no respect for me, was desirous to end all contact with me forever. It was only our daughter who saved me from that fate. Mr. Darcy is right to hold me in disdain. I will never go to Pemberley without his express consent. I will never do anything to raise his ire again.” He hung his head.
“What happened to Elizabeth?” Mrs. Bennet asked. She never admitted it, her jealousy over her daughter’s monopoly of her husband’s attention got in the way, but deep down, she always admired her second daughter, and truly did love her very much, even though she was not the son she had dearly hoped to have.
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I cannot speak of it.” He looked at his wife, and realized this woman before him now could bear the truth, where the Fanny Bennet of a year previous could not. He rose and went to his desk and unlocked a drawer. He removed a bundle of letters tied with a long pink ribbon, and without even needing to look, removed a very much-read letter. He walked back to the sofa and handed it to her. “I will let Elizabeth tell you.” He sat back and watched as Fanny opened the letter, then saw the expression of horror and pain that crossed her face. Then he observed as the expression changed to one of admiration and contentment. She was reading her daughter’s description of her husband. When she finished, she handed the letter back to her husband, and he returned it to the stack and locked it away again. “You say that you caused this to happen to her?”
He nodded. “She said that I am not culpable, but I will go to my grave believing that I am. Mr. Darcy agrees with me.”
Mrs. Bennet made the greatest effort she had ever had to think and speak in a sensible, reasoned manner. “It was a year ago. She is well, happy, about to be a mother. We have been welcomed into their home, and I believe Mr. Darcy treated you with civility.”
“It is more than I deserve.” He said bitterly.
“And he has granted it, Thomas. I think, someday, if you continue with the course of civility you have begun with him, he may allow you to address him by his name.” She smiled and grasped his hand.
He laughed. “That would be progress indeed, Fanny. You set the bar quite high!”
She smiled. It was not often she could give him a tease like that. “Well then, it seems we will spend the summer at Longbourn. That is well; surely we can spend that time finding suitable young men for Mary and Kitty!”
Mr. Bennet groaned. “You will never rest, madam!” He kissed her hand and she bustled out of the room. He sat back behind the desk, lost in thoughts of his daughters.
LORD MATLOCK regarded the nervous countenance of Georgiana’s suitor. Alex had been invited to dine at Matlock House for the first time and meet officially the rest of the family. They were all there, all of the Fitzwilliams, including Aunt Catherine. Georgiana was just as nervous as he, not that she was afraid he would not do well, but because she knew the Fitzwilliams were all very fond of disconcerting unsuspecting people.
“May I thank you again, sir, for inviting me to your home this evening.” Alex said, addressing the Earl.
“From what I understand, Mr. Carrington, you have been here many times before.” Lord Matlock watched Alex squirm uncomfortably.
“Uh, I, yes, I have been fond of this street, and have, uh, often found myself walking this way.” He swallowed under his piercing gaze.
“And riding, and staring. . .” Richard added with his brow raised.
“Just what did you find fascinating?” Mark asked, turning to look at his cousin’s suitor.
Alex’s eyes travelled from one man to the next. What do I do now? He thought desperately. “This is unfair, you know. At least if Darcy was here, I would have a friend in the room.”
“Ha!” Richard laughed. “Friend or no, Darcy is extraordinarily protective of the women in his life, which number two, one blonde, one brunette. He charged us to care for one while he is devoted to the other. No sir, I doubt that you would be spared the inquisition if he were present.”
Lord Matlock nodded and pointed his glass of port at Alex. “He is quite right, you know. Darcy would sooner rip your heart out than see Georgiana harmed in any way. And of course my son here,” He indicated Richard, “still is v
ery much in possession of his sword.”
“And knows how to use it.” Richard added with a taut smile.
Mark laughed. “Enough! I think you have warned him enough.” He turned to Alex. “You have been given Darcy’s permission to court our cousin, which is an extraordinary endorsement. What we want to know is why you wish for her. She is very young, yet.”
Alex felt defensive. “Yes, she is, but if Darcy and Elizabeth felt that she was too young or immature to wed, they would not have introduced her to society this Season. It was as much their decision as hers.”
Mark nodded. “Granted, but you have not answered the question. Why Georgiana? Surely you have not been without female companionship. Why her?”
Alex stood and paced around the room, aware of the eyes upon his back. He finally turned and faced the inquisitional board. “You are correct, I have hardly been bereft of companionship of one sort or another, and when I was younger, I found the company of ladies to be, exciting, challenging perhaps, however, I found that as I grew older I wanted more than a pretty face or pleasing form to decorate my arm. I wanted more.” He passed by the three men, each in quite different marriages. “I am not insanely rich, like a certain relative of yours.” He paused and they smiled at his reference to Darcy. “But I am, or rather, will be, in possession of a fair-sized estate and a desirable income. I am not, therefore, free of the matchmaking mamas. I know of society’s dictate for me to choose a woman with a dowry that will increase the value of my estate, and to choose her dispassionately, but after seeing my parents’ marriage, I felt disinclined to make a marriage of convenience, yet, not brave enough to risk the censure of society. I am not of the highest circles and frankly could not really risk it.”