Fitz stopped reading and handed it back to Darcy, silence filling the air.
Georgiana felt tears well up in her eyes. She could not believe her uncle would look upon her only as a means to saving his own home. Did he not love her? Did he not care that her heart was given to another? When she heard one of the gentlemen moving about, her attention was once again turned to the occupants of the room.
Darcy wadded the paper up and threw it towards the fire. “It is with a heavy heart I must insist my family part ways with your father and mother,” he said to Fitz.
“I understand. They have not spoken to me since I made the decision to marry, though my wife insists on writing to them at least once a month. They have never answered her—not even the simple Christmas greeting she sent.” With a heavy sigh, he said, “It seems to be the way of things in this family of ours.”
“I will not sacrifice my sister. She deserves to find happiness, and I doubt Milton could inspire such feelings in her.”
“I doubt he could inspire such feelings in any lady,” Fitz said with a smirk.
“Yes, well, if they wish him to marry they will have to find someone else. I am unwilling to give my sister to such devices. Your father was obviously well into his cups when he penned this missive, and I will not allow this to affect my own family.” He stood suddenly, “Come, it is time we found our wives. Perhaps it is warm enough for a short walk out in the garden.”
“I am sure they would both appreciate the fresh air,” Fitz replied as he followed his cousin out of the room.
Georgiana peeked out from behind the tapestry that covered her hiding spot. When she was satisfied that they were gone, she went over to the fire. Seeing that the letter was not completely burned up, she pulled the wadded mess from the coals, smoothing the pages before she put them into her pocket and sneaked back out of the room and upstairs. When she was assured of her privacy, she read what she could of the missive. The words cut to the deepest part of her soul. How could her family think she was worth nothing but a prize for marriage?
It was with a downtrodden expression that she joined the others for supper that evening, excusing herself early with the excuse that she did not enjoy playing cards. Darcy was worried and questioned her further, but upon her insistence that she was just not feeling well, he allowed her to retire, stipulating she take some of Mrs Reynolds’ tea before she went to sleep. Even the vile taste of the concoction could not deter her from the desire to sleep, so she easily accepted his terms and retired, though sleep did not come easy for her that night.
Elizabeth and Mary sat beside each other at the table. Their husbands entered the room, both nearly becoming sick at the sight of the food on both the ladies plates.
“Must you insist upon eating that so early, my love?” Darcy replied as he kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. He sat and nodded for the waiting footman to pour his drink.
“I see nothing wrong with this wonderful dish our cook has provided,” she replied. “It cannot be too odd if my sister is eating it,” she said with a smile. “Are you certain you will not have some as well?” she asked Fitz.
He patted his stomach and groaned aloud, “Oh, no—I will just join my cousin in some tea, or possibly some coffee?” He looked to the footman who nodded and left to procure the stronger drink for him.
Elizabeth cocked her head and looked at her sister. “Now that I have heard two gentlemen, one of whom, I must confess, I thought would eat nearly anything set before him,” she said, looking at Fitz, “it is rather odd that you would like this dish so much. Are you feeling well?” She placed her hand on Mary’s forehead.
“I feel perfectly well. Why do you ask?”
“Hmmm... I have not seen any other reason to think so, but...”
Mary tapped her sister’s arm, then signed, “Elizabeth, you are not making it easy for me to see what you say when you turn away.”
“Oh, I am sorry,” she signed. “Perhaps we should speak about this later.”
Mary was confused, but she agreed and continued on with the meal. When the sisters were both finished, Elizabeth excused them and insisted Mary join her in her chambers for a private discussion. They were soon both settled into chairs, facing each other.
“I wonder,” Elizabeth signed, “if you are feeling odd in any way?”
“No, not really. Why?”
“Now, I do not wish to frighten you, but I have heard that every lady is different with their symptoms.”
“Symptoms of what?”
She reached out to take her sister’s hand in her own, squeezing Mary’s fingers as she asked, “Have your courses been regular since you married?”
“My courses? Why ever would you ask such a thing...” then it dawned on her just what her sister suspected. Her hand flew as she quickly signed, “Could it be? Could I too be with child?”
“I cannot say for certain, but I do wonder, what with our odd choice of food this morning. Would you like me to call for the doctor?”
“Oh, no—it would only worry my husband.”
“Would you rather worry your expectant sister,” she said as her hand fell to her expanding midsection.
She knew exactly what Elizabeth was doing, and it was working. “All right,” she finally signed, “I will see the doctor.”
Mrs Reynolds was called and it was explained to the housekeeper that the sisters wished to keep this call private. She assured them of her silence on the matter and promised to bring the doctor up herself when he arrived.
Within just a few hours their questions were answered and the doctor confirmed that, to the best of his ability at this point, he thought it very possible that Mary was indeed pregnant. He left the two giddy sisters to tell the news to their husbands in their own way.
That evening after dinner, the four of them, as well as Georgiana and Mrs Annesley removed to the sitting room. Darcy, as was his usual request, asked his sister if she would like to play for them. He was shocked when, for the first time since before she was removed from school, she agreed. As she was choosing her music he looked over at Fitz, confusion apparent on his features.
Fitz shrugged his shoulder, then cleared his throat and stood, “I will turn the pages for you, Georgiana.”
She gave a simple thank you, then sat on the stool and began to play. Fitz looked over to his wife. She sat with her eyes closed and her hand laid against the wooden surface of the table beside her. In his distracted state he nearly missed the nod from Georgiana to turn the page.
When the others retired for the evening, Mary insisted she and Fitz stay for a few more minutes alone. Fitz offered to play the pianoforte. Sitting on the stool and pulling his wife closer, he insisted she sit on his knee, then he wound his long arms around her and began to play the one song he knew well enough to not look at his fingers. It would have been quite the comical scene if anyone came in, but in such privacy it became an intimate moment between the two. Mary sat with her eyes closed and her back leaned into her husband’s chest. The beat of the notes resonated into her so that she could almost hear them being played. When they stopped, she felt her husband’s hands wrap around her waist and his scruffy cheek rub lightly against her own as he laid his chin on her shoulder and gave her a kiss.
She knew this was the moment to tell him. Without opening her eyes, she reached her hands out in front of them and signed, “We think I might be with child.” She felt him stiffen and she opened her eyes, turning to look into his face.
He reached up to cup her cheek in his palm, his other hand going to his chin as he drew his finger out from it, asking, “Truly?”
She placed her own hand on top of his, moving it down to her abdomen and signed in return, “Truly.”
Tears welled in his eyes and he pulled her into an embrace she would not soon forget. When Fitz finally softened the kisses and pulled away, he suggested they retire. Mary stood and held her hand out to her husband. They walked side by side out of the room and up the stairs, each delighted in their newfound
feelings of hope at what the future would hold for their family.
The days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. It was soon confirmed that Mary was, indeed, with child. Unlike her sister, she had a much easier time right from the start. Georgiana began to spend more time with the sisters. Darcy did notice, though, that she sometimes displayed a melancholy. On another search of her room no more letters were discovered, and Darcy knew he kept a tight control of the posted letters coming into and going out of Pemberley. Her change in disposition could not be from George Wickham contacting her again. Perhaps it was the realization that she was wrong in her assessment of him? Darcy took his thoughts to his cousin, but neither could come up with a reason. They only determined to keep a close watch on her for now.
Before they knew it, the snow of winter melted away and the first buds of spring began to poke through the barren ground. For two months the sisters had enjoyed each other’s company, but it was time for the Fitzwilliams to return to Rose Bluff. Fitz had ridden there a couple of times over their stay to work with the steward on the spring planting schedule, but otherwise they had left their visitor all alone.
Elizabeth understood Mary’s reluctance to introduce herself to Maria Lucas as the Mistress of Rose Bluff, but she also encouraged her to say something, if only to allow her more freedom at home. After their harsh reception in Hertfordshire last autumn, she did not expect Mary to concede.
They had been gone for two days when a letter came for Elizabeth. It was quite thick and that worried her. With trembling hands she tore open the seal, ripping part of the last page in her haste. Setting it aside, she scanned quickly through the first page, then the second, getting to the third and final page. With careful positioning she was able to read all of her sister’s words, and it was with a joyful heart that she went to speak with her husband in his study.
Elizabeth opened the door and saw him sitting at his desk, his fingers of one hand tapping the wood in a rhythmic pattern as he scoured over maps of the lands. His other hand was raised to his forehead, rubbing circles on his temples with his thumb and forefinger. He must have a headache.
When he heard the rustle of her skirts, Darcy looked up. “Oh, I am sorry dearest; I did not see you standing there.”
She walked over to the desk, positioning herself behind his chair. She urged him to lean back as her fingers wound into his dark, curly hair. “You need to rest from these maps. You and your cousin were poring over them for weeks, and now here you are agonizing still. Just trust that what has already been decided will do well.”
He let out an audible sigh as he closed his eyes, the pressure of her hands working magic on the pounding in his head. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He reached up to grasp her hand in his, leading her around his chair and pulling her onto his lap. “For putting so much trust in my abilities to manage this land. I doubt my father ever would have been so generous.”
Elizabeth wound her hands around his neck, resting her forehead against his as she looked him in the eyes. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, you are a gentleman most capable of the task before you. You have been reared to be who you are now, and anyone who would not be proud of what you have become is not worthy of our time and thoughts.”
With such encouragement, he pulled her closer, their lips meeting for a few moments of passion. When they finally separated, he laid his hand on her expanded belly, addressing the babe within, “Your mother here has the most luscious lips.”
She gasped, “Sir! How shocking! You mustn’t speak so to our child!”
His hand continued to rub circles on her belly. “What should I say then? That I hope she carries your dark eyes?”
“My only wish for our child is that it be a healthy babe. I could not bear it if...”
“Our child will be perfect, no matter what.”
“I know what it is like to live every day with someone others see as only an imposition.”
“You have proven your ability to love the undesirable, and I dare say, even with the hardships you and Mary have faced, you would not wish to change a thing if it meant they led you right here to my arms,” he said with a smile so large his rare dimples shown.
She could not help but smile herself, “Yes, in that you are correct. Speaking of Mary, I have received a letter from her.”
“Already? They have been gone but two days.”
“If you do not mind, this position is causing my back such pains. Perhaps we could move to the sofa instead?”
“I do not mind at all,” he replied as he helped her stand. “I will call for tea,” he said pulling the rope to call for Mrs Reynolds. When the order had been given and they were finally settled on the sofa with their tea, he asked, “Now, what was it your sister had to say in her letter?”
Elizabeth sipped the hot liquid, then placed her cup down on the table to pull the missive from her pocket, opening it. “The decision of whether to introduce themselves to their guest was taken from them, as Miss Lucas saw them from the garden when they arrived.”
Darcy took the letter, reading the portion to which she pointed on the back of the first page.
“When I was settled in the drawing room, awaiting Fitz for our tea, I was shocked to see Miss Lucas appear in the doorway. Her eyes were red and swollen, and I could see the trembling of her hands. My husband came into the hallway at that moment and invited her in to join us, and amazingly she accepted.
It was a tense repast, but she did not refuse. I dare say she was grateful for the opportunity to see someone besides Mrs Lewis and Cora. She and Fitz spoke a few words, and he introduced himself to her, but otherwise we all sat in silence.”
He handed the letter back to her, “What a reception.”
“Yes, quite. She goes on to say that the next morning Mrs Lewis asked, on her behalf, if she could break her fast with them. Upon their acceptance, she sat with them, though again few words were spoken. The rest of the letter is more of Mary’s feelings on the situation.”
“She will do her duty as mistress of Rose Bluff, and will offer what services she can to their guest.”
“Yes, she will, of that I can be certain. She may not have wished to be in this position, but if there is anything my sister thrives at, it is being the best person she can be when forced into impossible situations.”
“I have faith in her ability to handle the situation with grace. They may even bond over the shared experience of both being with child,” he suggested.
“I hope so.”
Darcy put down his tea cup, stood, and held out his hand to his wife, “Come; I fancy a walk in the garden with my favorite lady.”
She took his hand, accepting his assistance with standing, then wound her arm around his and they left the room.
The months wore on, their days filling quickly with outdoor activities of many sorts. Now that the sisters could visit more easily, they saw each other more frequently. Some weeks it was shopping while other weeks it was a picnic. When their husbands could join them, they did, though most of the time they were busy with watching over the new land developments at Rose Bluff and Pemberley.
Elizabeth invited Georgiana on any outing she had with Mary. Sometimes she surprised them both and joined them, though it was not with any regularity. She may not have been trying very hard, but it was evident she was at least trying a little. Darcy was disturbed by his sister’s continuing melancholy though and had already contacted Aunt Edith to see if Georgiana could stay with her for a few months after the baby was born. She needed much more attention than he and his wife would be able to give her with a new baby around.
Maria Lucas became quite the companion for Mary. The two often walked in the garden and sat together in the drawing room. The rumors of the fire were never spoken of by either, but the camaraderie they had easily overshadowed any uneasiness each felt in the beginning of their friendship, especially after Mary confessed her own expectancy to Maria. At times it was quite comical to Fitz what odd combinat
ion of food the two would come up with next.
After some weeks, Maria confronted Fitz when he was alone, insisting he tell her why she was with them. He told of her sister’s letter and of his wife’s insistence that she stay with them. When Maria questioned whether Mary felt guilty over the death of her brother, she was told the true tale of that awful night so many years before, when both girls had lost their loved ones. Knowing the truth, she was better able to accept the friendship Mary was willingly offering to her.
Easter holiday came and went, and the next big event would be Elizabeth’s confinement. The month of May began with all eyes carefully watching the obviously very pregnant Mrs Darcy. Each week the local gossips spoke of her presence in church services. A few of the local gentlemen had a betting book going on whether the babe would be a boy or a girl and when it would be born. Though they would never admit it in public, a few of the ladies convinced their husbands to make some wagers for them as well. Every week that passed more people were disappointed that the day they had chosen for the birth of the heir of Pemberley had passed. Anticipation built to the point that Elizabeth stopped going to the shops for the simple reason that she did not wish to hear, yet again, the observations from all that she had not yet had the babe.
When the time finally came and the midwife was called to Pemberley, the entire neighborhood waited with bated breath on the news to be announced. A footman delivering some letters to be posted was nearly run over by the ladies coming out of the milliner’s shop when they recognized his livery. He told them he knew nothing yet, but the entire way back to Pemberley he felt as if he was being followed.
Just to Hear 'I Love You': An Alternate Tale of Jane Austen's 'Pride & Prejudice' Page 30