by A K Madison
As their time in London grew shorter, Darcy grew increasingly restless. George Wickham’s ship was to sail with the tide on June 8th. During their seclusion at the townhouse, he had taken the time to ensure that all was in readiness. His solicitor would travel to the port the day before so as to be on hand for the sailing. The solicitor had also corresponded with the ship’s captain, who stood ready to assist if necessary. “Tis about the same distance to Gravesend as it is from here to Meryton,” said Darcy. “And my solicitor is a portly man who will not make the journey on horseback. He will send an express rider to us with the news, and he will wait upon me himself the following day. I see no reason why we should not leave that very same day at midday. We shall stop for the first night with our family at Netherfield.”
He smiled at Elizabeth, thinking quite correctly that this news would please her. “I am longing to see Jane,” she said.
Elizabeth spent their last few days in Town overseeing the packing and conferring with Mrs. Ryland about closing the house.
Both Darcys were up early on June 8th, neither able to sleep. They breakfasted downstairs. “I have such mixed feelings,” said Elizabeth. “And yours must be even worse.”
“I have never fully understood Wickham. His mother was a spendthrift, but it seems clear to me that she exerted a good influence on her son. Something happened to change him after her death. I have satisfied myself that he was treated well at Pemberley as a boy and young man, and that he was never abused or dealt with unkindly.” He reached over and took her hand. “He went a long way toward redeeming himself when he saved you, my dearest. Even a Wickham can be revolted by someone like Collins.”
They passed the day quietly in the library with a trip out to the garden. A little past mid-afternoon, a footman announced the arrival of the rider, and the letter was brought in. Elizabeth watched anxiously as an equally anxious Darcy broke open the seal and scanned the message. He looked up at her, his face an odd mixture of relief and sorrow. “It is done.” She went to his arms.
Darcy’s solicitor, Mr. Grant, arrived early the next morning, and the two men closeted themselves in Darcy’s study for a full report. As Darcy related the tale to Elizabeth, Wickham had used some of Darcy’s original fifty pounds to secure more comfortable quarters on board, and he was there when the solicitor arrived. Both men watched and waited on deck as the ship sailed. For a consideration, Grant had arranged to be rowed ashore in the pilot’s launch, and his final act before descending the rope ladder to the boat was to hand over the packet of bank notes and to secure Wickham’s signature on the receipt.
“I am certain there was no final message,” said Darcy.
“Well, sir, yes there was. That young man has an insolent air about him. He instructed me to bid you adieu and to tell you to enjoy the rest of your life.”
Darcy shook hands with his solicitor and went in search of Elizabeth, who was supervising the movement of their trunks. He pulled her arm through his own and said, “Wickham is on his way to Canada. Let us go home to Pemberley.”
“Oh, how well that sounds,” replied Mrs. Darcy.
Chapter 29
It was a warm day in June, a little more than a year after the wedding that had united Elizabeth and Darcy. A slightly diminished family group was gathered in a shady, breezy area of the gardens at Netherfield on an assortment of cushions and blankets. After a picnic, the adults were sprawled or seated in the shade while the four Gardiner children ran and played to their hearts’ content.
Jane Bingley, seated next to her husband, finished feeding her chubby, laughing baby boy and turned back to the rest of the group. Little Thomas Charles, aged six months, summoned up a prodigious belch and laughed happily at his accomplishment. He was a rosy-cheeked young man with strawberry-blond wisps of hair, and he favored his papa.
“Good for you, nephew,” said his Uncle Darcy from his seat next to his own wife. “I like a man who is forthright with his opinions.”
Jane kissed the baby and handed him to Charles. “Listen to your uncle,” said Bingley as he, too, kissed his son. “Follow his advice and you’ll go far.” In Bingley’s case this was a fact. Now tanned and muscular, Charles Bingley carried himself quite differently. He was a farmer and the owner of a large estate consisting of Netherfield and the lands attached to his wife’s family property. He had heeded Darcy’s advice and that of his own steward, Emerson, and his lands were thriving. Jane watched him proudly as he handed their son to the waiting nurse to be taken upstairs.
“He is such a happy boy,” added Elizabeth Darcy from her place beside her husband. She and Darcy did not yet have any expectations, though if hard pressed, Elizabeth might have admitted to a slight suspicion. She would not speak to Fitzwilliam until another two weeks went by, when her suspicion would be all but confirmed. Meanwhile, she was content to admire her nephew, who adored his Aunt Lizzy.
“Has Mary had a great deal of trouble with morning sickness?” asked Jane. “She has not mentioned it in her letters to me, and it is now past the time when it should bother her.”
“She has sailed through this experience with little trouble to herself or anyone else,” replied Elizabeth. “Now that she is approaching her confinement, she will admit to being a little tired and wishing to lie down in the afternoons. But she was fully in favor of coming on this visit. Jem and the rest of us managed to talk her out of it, but it was a near thing.”
“What are you talking of, girls?” Her mother was seated in a comfortable chair, tete-a-tete with Mr. Emerson. “You know I must have my share in the conversation.”
“We were discussing Mary’s approaching confinement, Mama.” Elizabeth smiled at her mother but kept silent regarding her own suspicions.
“Mr. Emerson and I will be at Pemberley in plenty of time,” replied Mrs. Bennet.
“Yes,” added Emerson. “I will see that there is no delay.”
“You will be very welcome at Pemberley. And the place is large enough that you can avoid the rest of us as much as you wish. We have entertained newlyweds before. We shall know how to act.” There was a suspicious twinkle in Darcy’s eye. He enjoyed teasing the lovers as their wedding day approached.
Mrs. Bennet blushed as if she were a quarter-century younger.
“Let us find something else to tease her with and see if she blushes,” cried Kitty. Kitty had stayed home to bear her mother company over the past year as her sisters had either married or, in the case of Lydia, gone off to school. Elizabeth and Darcy, wishing to recognize Kitty’s kindness and sacrifice, had arranged several trips to London for her and had sent masters to help her develop her natural talent for drawing and painting. She had an eye for the human form, and her sketches of Jane and the baby were much admired by everyone who saw them.
“What are you working on now?” Elizabeth would yield to no one in her admiration for Kitty’s work.
“Tis a study for a portrait of Mama and Mr. Emerson.” Kitty held up the pencil sketch depicting the engaged pair. She had perfectly captured Mr. Emerson’s lean frame, good humor, and handsome, weather-beaten features. Her mother’s femininity was tempered by a new-found serenity which the sisters had never before observed in their mother’s countenance.
“Perfect,” replied Elizabeth. “You have captured more than their likenesses. It is as though you have a window to their souls.”
Lydia looked up from her book. “Tis a shame Kitty is female. If she were a man, people would pay her to make portraits of their families, and especially of the mothers and children.”
Of all the sisters, the change in Lydia over the past year was the most pronounced. She had eagerly volunteered to “go back in” in order to be sent to a school for young ladies in the North. Her dress was more youthful and appropriate, her voice was quieter and better modulated, and she was rarely seen without a book in her hand. Her mother, only half-jokingly, urged her not to become too much of a bluestocking. Lydia only laughed at this. She was still secretly mad for gentlemen in re
d coats, but she also knew that by improving her mind and her accomplishments she might attract an officer with better financial and social standing, one who would love her for her own self. Lydia would admit freely that she enjoyed reading and learning and was doing her best to take advantage of all that school had to offer her.
After the simple picnic meal, many of the ladies retired to their rooms, while the gentlemen retired to a game of billiards. Elizabeth and Jane sat in Jane’s small parlor with their mother.
“I have had so little time to talk with you, Mama,” Elizabeth began. “Are you happy? Your letters seem full of happiness.”
Mrs. Bennet folded her hands. “I am happy, Lizzy. For the first time in a long time, I believe I am truly happy.” She dabbed at tears. “I realize that your father and I each made the other miserable in many ways. Chiefly it had to do with expecting to be understood while not offering any understanding in return. We should have been able to deal with the disappointment of not having a boy, and we were completely unable to do so. It was easier to ignore the fact that our family might be ruined. So, I kept spending, and he continued to hide in his library, and I am not sure how you girls raised yourselves. You seem to have managed.”
She regarded her daughters with a smile. “But enough of that. I have learnt, and I shall be a helpmeet to Mr. Emerson. Not everyone gets a second chance.” She threw a sharp and calculating look at her second daughter. “And what of you, Miss Lizzy? Are you increasing yet?”
Elizabeth held up her hand and laughed. “You have always known before anyone else in the neighborhood, Mama. The answer is, I am not certain, and it is too early to tell. I have missed my courses a single time, and they are due in a week or two. Far too soon to feel the quickening, and I have none of the other signs.” She reached over and took her mother’s hand. “Never fear, Mama. When the babe quickens, if there is a babe, I shall write to you straightaway.”
“Yes, and Mr. Emerson and I will be in Kympton in just a few weeks. Who knows but it might happen while we are in residence. It is important that you provide Mr. Darcy with a son and heir.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew pink. “It will not be for lack of trying if I do not, Mama.” She gave her mother a mischievous smile. “And what of you and Mr. Emerson in your rose-covered cottage? Will we be hearing something from you on the same subject?”
“Go on, Lizzy. You should spare your mother such unseemly talk and speculation!” Mrs. Bennet’s words were severe, but her face was pink, and her eyes were smiling. “Unseemly or not, it is kind of Mr. Darcy to set Kitty up in London with Georgiana. She is looking forward to studying with masters there, and to having a come-out.”
“I am surprised at how well those two get on. Or I should say, those three. Anne de Bourgh is an important part of that triumvirate, especially now that she is feeling so much better.”
Jane looked up from her needlework. “What you may not know is that there is a fourth member to the triumvirate. I suppose we shall have to call them a quartet.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Anne has formed a warm friendship with Charlotte Lucas. They knew and liked each other when Charlotte lived at Hunsford. She is going to London as well, as Anne’s particular friend and personal guest. She will function much in the capacity of companion, but there is some hope that with her fortune, though it is not large, she may attract the attention of a respectable gentleman. She has put off her mourning and finds herself quite at liberty.”
“Well, it is a little unusual, but Charlotte is certainly a respectable lady and a widow,” observed Elizabeth. “Will she return to Rosings with Anne?”
“That is the plan for now.”
Elizabeth left her mother and sister and ran lightly up the stairs to the rooms she was sharing with her husband. He was standing with his back to the window as if he had been expecting her. He was attired in his dressing-gown, and with his hair still damp, it was plain he had just bathed. Elizabeth could smell the delicious scent of his soap. He tied the robe a little more tightly about his waist and stood his ground, saying only “I have been waiting for you.” His eyes seemed enormous and dark, and he wore that serious, almost-angry expression that she had at one time mistaken for disapproval.
“This is the room where I first dreamt of you, first desired you, first wanted to make you mine.”
“Indeed?”
He pulled her into his arms for a long, lustful kiss, and by the time he released her, he had managed handily to undo all her buttons. “I shall unwrap you like a gift,” he murmured, tearing out hairpins one by one. They had been married a year, and he knew just how to tempt and tease her, just how she was to be worked on. His last coherent thought was that the real woman who shared his life and his bed was far better than his wildest imaginings.
As their breathing returned to normal, Elizabeth spoke. “What were you talking about, something about this room?”
Darcy raised himself on his elbow, and she brushed the hair out of his eyes. “Do you recall during that time that Jane was ill, you often took a walk before breakfast?” Darcy’s hand caressed her back. “You often walked across the grassy area near the trees just outside the window in this very room. I would be dressing, and I would see you. One morning you played with the dog, throwing a stick for him and tussling with him for it.” His eyes seemed far away. “The sun shone behind you, and I could see your form, clearly outlined through the fabric of your gown. Your eyes sparkled, and your smile—ah, your smile. From that very moment I was lost.”
Elizabeth burrowed close to him. “So early in our acquaintance?”
“Yes. Before then, I had enjoyed, and been the target of, your intelligence and your wit. On that morning, I realized that you were everything I wanted in a woman, in a wife. Oh, I struggled. But by the time we were together at Hunsford, I knew my struggles were not only vain but foolish.” He leaned down and kissed her. “Along with a few other incidents, that scene became one I could call up in my wildest dreams.”
Elizabeth gave a great yawn. “Well, I am happy to have revisited one of your dreams. You should tell me about the others. By the bye, is someone going to awaken us in time to dress for dinner?”
“Yes.” Darcy nestled her into their preferred sleeping position, which was spoon-fashion. He, too, yawned hugely, and it was not long before both were deeply asleep.
The guests at Netherfield were up betimes the next morning, as the ladies needed to breakfast and dress before going to Rose Cottage to attend their mother on her wedding day. Lydia and Kitty were keeping their mother company. Bingley and Darcy were responsible for seeing that the bridegroom arrived at the church without incident. Dr. Price would once again officiate, assisted by his new curate Mr. Hughes.
The cottage garden was in its glory; the roses were in their first flush of bloom, and spring flowers were fully opened. The fragrance was as fresh as spring itself, and stray raindrops from an overnight shower sparkled in the sunlight.
Mrs. Bennet was dressed and downstairs when they arrived. She seemed to be the calm center, with Lydia, Kitty, Hill, and Susan fluttering nervously about her, a fact not lost on Jane and Elizabeth. She embraced both of her older daughters and her sister, heedless of any potential damage to her gown, and busied herself with searching for her gloves. As Mrs. Bennet put on her bonnet and Lydia tied it, the lace on her cap peeped out from it most becomingly.
Elizabeth opened her reticule and extracted a note, which she handed to her mother. “From Mary, Mama. She asked me to give it to you before the wedding this morning.”
Her mother read the note, and as she finished and folded it carefully, the girls noticed that a few tears stood in her eyes.
Jane was quick with a handkerchief. “Mama, do not spoil your eyes by crying. I am certain Mary would not want that.”
“Oh, these are happy tears. I am so pleased with the way life seems to be turning out for my girls, with three of them disposed in marriage. But Mary pleases me most. I never thought she would find
the right partner, and yet she has. She writes that she could not be happier, and she wishes the same happiness for me.”
“You make a beautiful bride, Mama,” said Elizabeth. “Seeing you like this, it is easy to recognize where Jane got her good looks. Kitty, too.”
“Yes,” said their mother drily. “Together, they got all the good looks I had.”
Uncle Gardiner arrived in a carriage, stepping nimbly down to hand his sister in. A second carriage drew up, and the four sisters entered it for the short drive to the church. They entered without ceremony and stood at the altar waiting for their mother. Charles Bingley came in from the sacristy escorting Mr. Emerson, who looked proud and not at all nervous. Darcy looked on from a pew where he was seated between Georgiana and Anne.
The familiar ceremony was quickly accomplished. The new Mr. and Mrs. Emerson stood outside the church door to greet their friends and family. Jane had outdone herself in planning and preparing for the wedding breakfast at Rose Cottage, and after the greetings had been exchanged, the couple and their guests made the short trip to the cottage. Tables and chairs had been set up outdoors as well as indoors, but most guests seemed inclined to enjoy the garden.
As the sisters circulated among the guests, Elizabeth became engaged in chatting with Lady Lucas. “I have not yet heard of their plans for their wedding journey,” said that lady. “Are they a state secret?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Not at all! They will leave here after breakfast and travel to Darcy House, where they will spend a day or two. Then on to Brighton. The Bingleys have a seaside home there that is used by the family, and Charles has very kindly made it available to them.”
“Your Mama always wanted to try a little sea bathing,” replied Lady Lucas. “She must be delighted at the prospect. And what of Mary’s expected confinement?”
“Well, they will leave Brighton and make a sort of royal progress to Pemberley, sightseeing as they go and taking easy stages. They should arrive in plenty of time for the baby, and they will alternate between Pemberley and the rectory until Mary is on her feet again. She has made light work of being an expectant mother. She is blooming with good health.”