The Engagement

by Ola Wegner

  “Still, the child may be a girl,” Georgiana mused. “There is no certainty on such matters.”

  “True. And if the child proves to be another girl, then the responsibility for continuity of the family name will rest solely on Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  As she said the words, Elizabeth watched Georgiana closely, searching for any clues indicating that the girl was aware of the possible match between her and Colonel Fitzwilliam, but she found nothing. Her lovely face was calm and unassuming.

  “Not exactly,” Georgiana answered.

  Elizabeth frowned slightly. “No? Are there some distant cousins to be taken into consideration?” she asked, thinking of Mr. Collins, who was to inherit Longbourn.

  “Brother will inherit the title if both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lord Castlereagh do not have sons.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes flew across the room to her husband. “Fitzwilliam?”

  “Naturally. Our mother was the daughter of the Earl of Matlock,” Georgiana reminded her. “The daughter of the earl cannot directly inherit the title, but her son certainly can. It is certain that Uncle would prefer for his grandson to carry on the family name. Nevertheless, I cannot imagine him to be upset if it were Brother who would be the next earl. Brother is an excellent man, he would never bring shame or disgrace to the family and family name.”

  Georgiana changed the topic then, confessing to Elizabeth that the pianoforte at Matlock Hall was quite old and not as good as the instrument she had at Pemberley. Elizabeth proposed that Georgiana should play for the company. Her sister agreed, but only on the condition that Elizabeth sing.

  Darcy welcomed the idea of a concert from his ladies with great enthusiasm, while Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed his head, being visibly distracted.

  As Elizabeth sang, her eyes rested more than once on Colonel Fitzwilliam. His expression was as flat and disinterested as never before. She was convinced now that her husband had indeed told him the news of his possible fatherhood.

  ***

  “What did he say?” Elizabeth enquired as soon as her husband entered their bedroom.

  “You are not asleep?” Darcy asked. “It is late.” He quickly removed his clothing, discarding the items carelessly on a nearby chair.

  “What was Colonel Fitzwilliam’s reaction to the news?”

  Darcy cocked his eyebrow. “What news?”

  Elizabeth threw a pillow at him with all her might. “Do not tease me, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” She glared at him.

  He put the pillow back against the headboard before climbing under the covers naked as a newborn babe.

  “Well?” Elizabeth pressed, very agitated. “Did you tell him? I can only guess that you did, but he was absentminded till the very end of the evening.”

  “I presented the matter to him succinctly,” Darcy admitted. “However, he said nothing about it.”

  “Nothing, nothing at all?”

  “Almost nothing. When he enquired about how you are liking Pemberley and if you are not feeling lonely here, I told him that you receive many letters on a daily basis from your family and friends. Then I mentioned the news of twins, boy and a girl, being born to your friend Mrs. Collins.”

  “And?”

  “He asked about the exact date of the birth, and I told him that he would have to ask you about the details, but that the happy event took place in the beginning of January.”

  Elizabeth leaned back against the pillows. “He did ask about the birth date,” she whispered. “Then he must have considered the possibility of being the father.”

  “Possibly,” Darcy agreed. “He was unusually quiet for the rest of the evening. You noticed it.”

  She nodded. “I certainly did.”

  “When he wished to stay in the library for a drink after you and Georgiana retired, I thought that he intended to speak to me, to seek advice perhaps.”

  “But he did not,” Elizabeth guessed.

  “He did not,” he confirmed. “He was mostly silent and drank very little, barely half the glass of the brandy, which is a favourite of his.”

  “I observed him carefully throughout the evening. He was very distracted, not his usual jovial self.”

  “We cannot do much more on the matter, I am afraid.”

  Elizabeth leaned against his chest, thinking for a moment longer. Darcy was silent as well. His arms came around her, and he kissed the top of her head.

  “What will Colonel Fitzwilliam do next? Will he contact Charlotte? What is your opinion?” she enquired, turning her head to look into Darcy’s face.

  “Even if he is the father, he cannot do much about it.”

  “He must be,” Elizabeth insisted. “I am convinced about it.”

  “It is better for Catherine Elizabeth and William Richard to be known as Miss Collins and Mr. Collins in the future, the daughter and son of a parson, rather than the illegitimate children of the second son of the Earl of Matlock.”

  “That is true,” Elizabeth agreed quietly. She shifted in his embrace, placing her head on his chest, her fingers stroking the fine hair covering his chest. “Poor Charlotte,” she breathed.

  “Poor? I daresay that she knew very well what she was doing. My cousin did not coerce her into anything she did not want. I am not even certain who seduced whom.”

  “Judging from Charlotte’s letter, she is very happy with the birth of her children. What I meant to say is that she cannot enjoy her little girl and boy together with the children’s father by her side.”

  “What about my cousin? He will never be able to acknowledge his own daughter and son, or even see them more than a few times during her lifetime.”

  “Georgiana mentioned to me that the Matlocks anticipate the birth of yet another grandchild.”

  “Indeed. Colonel Fitzwilliam explained to me that they were not announcing it for a long time, fearing another miscarriage. Lady Henrietta’s condition has become visible only in the last weeks, and they trust that this time she will carry the baby safely to the end.”

  “They hope for a boy.”

  Darcy nodded. “The boy would dissolve many concerns for all of them. Colonel Fitzwilliam would not feel pressured to marry within the next year or two. I doubt that he is willing to seriously consider marriage now, especially with the news coming from Kent.”

  Elizabeth rose on her elbow, staring into his eyes. “Georgiana told me that you will inherit the title if both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lord Castlereagh fail to produce the heir.”

  “The possibility is so slight that I have never truly considered it.”

  “Perhaps it is the reason why the earl and countess were so kind to me and so supportive of our union. They wished to see you married, with the possibility of having children of your own.”

  “Uncle is very proud of his ancestry and the family name. He is the fifth Earl of Matlock, and he does not wish for his sons to be the last to carry on the title. But if, as you said, they fail to produce sons, I can imagine him welcoming our son as his heir.” With those words, Darcy frowned, and he watched his wife through narrowed eyes. “Dearest,” he said, reaching his hand to touch her cheek. “Do you have something to announce to me?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Oh?”

  “I am not certain yet. My monthly courses should have come three weeks ago.”

  He grinned. “You are with child, then?”

  “It is too soon to tell, Fitzwilliam.”

  He pushed her on her back, looming over her, his hand finding his way to her waist, pressing there. “How are you feeling?”

  “Very well.”

  His eyes grew darker with concern. “Are you certain?”

  She combed her fingers through his locks. “It is too early to experience any discomfort.”

  “A physician should see you,” he insisted firmly.

  “I am well, Fitzwilliam. We must wait and see.”

  “Then a midwife, perhaps,” he proposed. “Mrs. Gibbs, who delivered Georgiana, is well and working. She lives in La
mbton.”

  Elizabeth considered his offer but she shook her head. “People will guess instantly when they learn that I met her, unless she steals here at night. Let us wait until I feel the quickening.”

  “When will it happen?”

  “In a few months, I imagine.”

  Darcy pulled her to him, his arms around her wounding so tightly that it was almost painful and difficult to take a deeper breath. “I must take good care of you now, Mrs. Darcy.”

  “You are always very attentive to me, Fitzwilliam,” she assured.

  He squeezed her to him, gentler this time. “I did not expect for it to happen so soon. The baby.”

  She yawned, snuggling against him. “You are pleased with the possibility.”

  “‘Pleased’ is too mild a word. So much happiness, Elizabeth. Sometimes I can barely believe it.”

  ***

  The spring came rather late that year. Only with the beginning of April did the weather improve enough to enjoy longer walks. It was still cold, but at least the torrential rains ceased. Elizabeth was most pleased because both her father and Jane were coming for a visit. It had been over three months since she had seen them, and she missed them dearly. She was quite astonished that her mother did not wish to join them to see Pemberley for the first time. The letter from Jane explained the reason behind Mrs. Bennet’s decision to stay behind in Hertfordshire. Apparently, there was a young man back at home who was courting Mary. He was from Bedfordshire, the owner of a modest estate giving little less than one thousand pounds of yearly income. Mrs. Bennet found him quite suitable for Mary even though he did not keep his own carriage. Nevertheless, the mother of five daughters, three of who were already safely married, had no intention to leave Longbourn until Mary was spoken for, preferably married.

  Elizabeth awaited the arrival of her family with great hopes. Her initial idea that Mr. Bingley should buy the estate in the north seemed more likely to happen with every passing month. Through Jane’s letters she learned that the Bingleys were already tired with the close proximity to the Bennet family, especially since Mrs. Bennet considered it to be her duty to visit Netherfield every single day, finding it necessary to advise the newly married on numerous matters. Now was the perfect time to present to her sister and her husband the proposition of moving to the north of the country, preferably to Derbyshire or any other neighbouring county. Darcy had already been properly instructed to make the suggestion to his friend that settling away from Hertfordshire was a worthy concept. After all, Mr. Bingley had always taken Darcy’s advice into serious consideration. Elizabeth could already see the near future with Jane living not more than a day away from Pemberley.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Darcy walked through the house, his long legs carrying him in the direction of the drawing room. He was quite certain he would find his wife and sister there. But as he entered, he saw only Georgiana, hunched over some music sheets.

  “Have you seen Elizabeth?” he asked. “I thought that we were having tea together.”

  Georgiana looked up. “She went out to look for the carriage.”

  Darcy frowned, glancing out of the window. “She should have stayed. It might begin to rain any moment.”

  “She looks forward to seeing her sister and father. She said that she could not sit here calmly when they were expected at any moment.”

  “I will bring her back. The roads are still in a bad state; the Bingleys will surely come late, perhaps even tomorrow.”

  “You do that, Brother,” she said, smiling.

  Darcy shook his head, noticing the twinkle in his sister’s eyes. Georgiana had been recently borrowing some of Elizabeth’s expressions and mannerisms. He leaned over to kiss her glossy blonde hair. “Light up the candles,” he told her. “You will ruin your eyesight reading without light on such a cloudy day.”

  “Yes, Brother.”

  As he stepped out of the front entrance, he looked around, hoping to find his wife there, but he was not successful. With a sigh he strode quickly along the road leading through the park directly to Lambton. There he saw her small figure ambling up the hill.

  “Elizabeth!” he cried out.

  She turned around, waving at him. Darcy hurried his pace, signalling so she would stay in place.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded in his first words.

  “Jane and Papa should have already arrived. I thought I would look out for them.”

  “It is cold and getting dark. Come, let us go back.”

  Elizabeth turned her head towards the bend in the road, rising on her tiptoes and squinting her eyes in hope of seeing the carriage. With a resigned sigh, she accepted her husband’s offered arm after a moment.

  “You felt so unwell this morning. You should have stayed home today,” he fretted.

  “I am well now. The sickness goes away later in the day. Mrs. Pike always knows how to help me at such times.”

  “I am simply concerned about you, your health and our child’s wellbeing.”

  She stopped walking and turned sideways to face him. “Fitzwilliam, I am truly very well. I am young and healthy. Strong, too,” she spoke evenly. “I understand that you are hunted with the memories of your mother, how she suffered through her many miscarriages. However, let me remind you one more time: My mother gave birth to five healthy babies in less than ten years and she is still in excellent health.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, placing her head on his chest. He could not even think that something might happen to Elizabeth or their baby. He had been old enough to understand why his mother had been bedridden so often before Georgiana’s birth.

  “Everything is well,” she assured him again, her voice muffled against his coat.

  After a moment they began to walk again, this time holding hands like small children.

  “When are we going to announce the news about the impending birth of the new heir to Pemberley?” Darcy asked in a casual tone, but with a note of pride in his voice.

  “Do we have to announce anything?” Elizabeth asked. “I am certain that many people have already guessed it. Soon enough my condition will be visible to everyone. In a month or two, I will not be able to hide it.”

  Naturally, Darcy could already see the changes in her body, but only when they were alone in the privacy of their bedroom. “Have you informed your mother?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I have not. I feared that she would like to come here upon hearing the news despite Mary’s possible engagement to that gentleman from Bedfordshire.”

  “I trust that you will tell Jane.”

  “I believe that Jane will guess on her own once she sees me. She can read me well.”

  “What about your father?”

  “What about him?”

  “Will he welcome the news?”

  “Why should he not?”

  Darcy hesitated with the answer. “You are his favourite. I doubt that he expected that he would become a grandfather so very soon.”

  “I guess that he will be pleased if he has a grandson. He always wished for a son.”

  As they reached the front entrance to the house, Elizabeth turned again, looking towards the road. “I am becoming worried. They should have arrived a few hours ago.”

  “They will be here tomorrow. They must have been delayed on the way. Bingley’s coachman is experienced. There is nothing to fear.”

  Elizabeth sighed, her expression worried. “I hope so.”

  Placing his hand on her waist, he said, “I beg you not to worry. They will be here sooner than you think.”

  ***

  “Jane!” Elizabeth exclaimed, running into her sister’s open arms. “I lost hope that you would arrive today.”

  “We were delayed because of a fallen tree on the road. Charles wished to stay at Lambton for the night, but I convinced him that we should drive straight to Pemberley,” Jane explained, returning the embrace.

  “Papa!” Elizabeth cried, moving to greet her fath
er.

  “My Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said, his voice thick with emotion.

  As Elizabeth was greeting her family, Darcy walked to Bingley, who was left behind the company. They shook hands. “It is good to see you, Bingley,” Darcy said, patting his friend’s arm. “I can see that married life suits you well.”

  “Can I say the same about you?”

  Darcy laughed. “You certainly can.”

  “I wanted to stay overnight at Lambton, but Jane could not stand the thought of not seeing her sister for one more night. I did not have the heart to refuse her.”

  “I understand you perfectly well, my friend. Elizabeth was guarding the road to Lambton for most of the afternoon, looking out for your carriage. With great effort I convinced her that she should wait inside.”

  Suddenly Bingley’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious. “Darcy, I have to speak with you,” he said in a lowered voice. “There is a serious matter we need to discuss. In private.”

  Darcy frowned. He had rarely seen Bingley as such. “Naturally. After Mr. Bennet and the ladies retire for the night, we shall talk in the library.”

  “Good, good. Excellent,” Bingley murmured, moving to stand beside his wife.

  Darcy stepped to greet his father-in-law now that Elizabeth had released Mr. Bennet from her embrace. He was very curious about what serious business Bingley had to discuss with him.

  ***

  Darcy gave Bingley a glass of scotch as they sat by the fire in the library. “Well? What is the matter?”

  His friend took a large gulp.

  “Has something happened?” Darcy probed. “Problems? You need advice?”

  Bingley shook his head. “No.”

  “Speak, then!” Darcy cried encouragingly.

  Bingley looked him right in the eyes. “Caroline wants to see both you and Mrs. Darcy.”

  Darcy’s expression fell, a frown marking his forehead. “Your sister?”

  Bingley nodded.

  “How is she feeling?” Darcy enquired. “You have not mentioned her much in your recent letters.”

  “She is very well, very well indeed. She feels ashamed of her past behaviour towards you and Mrs. Darcy. She wishes to speak to both of you and apologize.”