by Ola Wegner
“You do not want a very long engagement; tell me you do not,” he murmured thickly.
“As you wish,” she breathed into his mouth.
They began to kiss again, but soon Jane stiffened and pushed away from him as she heard her sister’s voice.
“Jane,… Jane, are you there?” Elizabeth Darcy’s soprano carried in the air.
Jane checked her appearance, adjusting her bonnet which he had pushed back to be able to nibble on her neck.
Joe smiled smugly. Jane looked well kissed, and she could do nothing to change that. Her sister would have no difficulty in guessing what they had been doing for such a long time alone.
***
Darcy walked through the halls of Pemberley, his movements energetic. He had answered all the correspondence for today, and there was still a good part of the day left that he intended to devote to his wife.
Elizabeth had seemed to be so happy in the last weeks. They kept the news of the baby a secret, without making any official announcements. Elizabeth had been so scared for the first months that the history would repeat itself and she would miscarry again. At this point, however, in a matter of weeks, her state would be visible to everyone. He felt as proud as a peacock that soon her body would grow heavy with his child. He was more than certain that this time everything was well. He could even already see and feel the hard bump once he undressed her in bed. He anticipated the moment when the child would start to move. He even started to spend more time with Edward’s boy to gain some practice while he had a chance.
Darcy had a feeling that Edward would return soon for a visit or decide to bring his family to London. His cousin sent letters almost every day, not only to Amy, but to him as well. He constantly asked about her and the baby. Darcy understood him well, for he could not imagine separating from Elizabeth for such a long time.
Elizabeth was not in any of her usual places, so he decided to check upstairs. Perhaps she had taken a nap.
To his surprise, he found his wife together with Jane in the main foyer. They stood there with three little girls, helping them to remove their caps.
He strode to the small group. “We have guests, I see.”
Elizabeth turned to him slowly. As he saw her face, he knew that something was wrong. She was up to some mischief. He knew that look all too well. “I did not expect you here. I thought you were busy with your correspondence.”
“I have already finished,” he explained.
Elizabeth moved to step behind the girls, in which she succeeded only partially because the youngest one hid behind her skirts. “Do you remember Mr. Cowlishaw’s daughters?”
Darcy leaned forward and smiled. “Of course, I remember. Welcome to Pemberley, ladies. Why do we own the honour of your visit?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him, while the eldest girl stepped forward and dropped an awkward curtsey. “Good afternoon, sir,” a tiny voice spoke from near the floor.
Darcy smiled at the red haired child, but then he frowned as his gaze rested on his wife and her sister. Jane would not look at him. They were plotting something behind his back. He had no doubt.
Elizabeth gathered the children to herself and then pushed them towards her sister. “Jane, please, take the girls upstairs and show them their room.”
Jane picked up the youngest and hurried up the stairs. The other two girls followed her closely, their eyes widening as they looked around the white marble hallway, the golden banister and the steps covered with red carpet.
When they were out of the earshot, Darcy gave her his second most serious glare. “Elizabeth, what is the meaning of this? Are these children staying with us?”
She smiled brightly. “For a few days.”
“Does their father have some problems so he cannot take care of them?”
“In a way. He must travel to the south of England, and there is no one he can leave them with.”
His eyes narrowed; she sounded too innocent. “I do not understand why you did not tell me about this earlier. Why did Cowlishaw not come to me with that? I would not refuse him any help after what he has done for us. Still, I think that there is no reason for his daughters to stay in a guest room upstairs. That is an exaggeration, Elizabeth, although I do understand that you are grateful to Cowlishaw for rescuing your sister. My opinion is that you should have asked Mrs. Reynolds to put them in the servants quarters in the attic.”
“Servants quarters!” she huffed at him.
“What else would you expect? They are the daughters of our tenant, whom I like and respect but still…”
“Mr. Cowlishaw is not your tenant.” Elizabeth interrupted him furiously and looked around cautiously, lowering her voice. “He is an independent and wealthy farmer in his own right.” She straightened her back and lifted her chin up. “Let us go somewhere where we can talk.”
She did not wait for him, but strode away first.
“Will you tell me now, what is going on here?” Darcy asked as he closed the door to his study.
“I will not beat around the bush,” she said, standing in front of him her arms crossed on her chest. “Mr. Cowlishaw proposed to Jane last week. He has gone to Hertfordshire to ask my father for her hand. Someone has to take care of the girls during his absence, so I thought it natural to invite them here. Jane will be their mother, after all, and quite soon I believe, because they do not wish to wait with the wedding.”
Darcy stared at her, muted.
“Are you well?” she asked, searching his shocked features. “William?” she probed.
“How… what…” he stammered at last.
“Shall I repeat?” she proposed kindly.
“How dare he?” Darcy choked at last.
Elizabeth walked to the sofa and settled herself on it comfortably. “I expected that you would have some difficulty when it came to accepting this situation,” she noted calmly.
“Difficulty! What is that man thinking?! He should have come to me first.”
Elizabeth raised one eyebrow. “To you? You are not Jane’s father.”
“But she is under my care, living in my home for the time being. I would refuse him her hand on behalf of your father. He would not have to travel so far, saving time and money.”
“Papa will not refuse him,” Elizabeth said.
“Elizabeth, your father tried to refuse me! Me!” he cried, gesturing to his chest. “Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley! Do you think that he would accept his daughter marrying a farmer?”
“My father felt apprehensive about our union because he thought that I did not return your affection,” Elizabeth pointed out. “He did not want a loveless marriage for me. Jane loves Mr. Cowlishaw. She is happy, willing to marry him and be the mother to his girls. I can assure you that Papa will not oppose.”
He gave her an unbelievable look. “You do not know what are you saying.”
“No, it is you who does not understand the facts.” She stood up, her tone losing its calm tones. “My sister is three and twenty, she is of age, and she can decide for herself. She will marry Mr. Cowlishaw even without our parents’ blessing. It was Mr. Cowlishaw himself who insisted on going to our father and asking for her hand.”
Darcy raked his hand through his already tousled hair. “I cannot believe that. It seems now that the only reasonable person in your family will be your mother. Oh, I am sure that Mrs. Bennet will not welcome with open arms a farmer as her son-in-law.”
Elizabeth gritted her teeth, watching him, but said nothing.
Darcy walked to the window, his facial expression strained. “I can imagine it, what a laugh, in front of my friends and acquaintances… This is my sister-in-law, Mrs. Wickham, whose husband is the son of my late father’s steward. And that is my other sister, Mrs. Cowlishaw. She is married to my tenant.” He let out a mocking laugh. “Has your sister gone completely out of her senses? What happened to her? She rejected Bingley to marry a farmer. Perhaps she suffered from her accident more than we thought?”
T
he room went silent for a few minutes. Very slowly, Elizabeth walked to him. “You have not changed at all. My first impression of you was correct. Deep inside you are the same cold, arrogant, and prideful man I knew in Kent. Why all the pretence for the last year?”
He turned to look at her. “Why? Do you not know?” He leaned to her and spoke, his voice lowered. “To have you. And it worked.”
Her expression softened. “You do not mean it.”
“Do I not? I am cold, arrogant and prideful, after all.”
Elizabeth lowered her head, looking to the side.
“You push my patience and good will too far with this, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice calmer.
“If you expect me to turn my back on Jane because she can find her happiness with a good man…I will not do that. You can send me back if you wish. I can raise the baby alone,” she announced defiantly.
Darcy flinched, as if she had slapped him.
“Do not talk nonsense,” he muttered impatiently. “Be serious for once. I am not pleased with the news about Jane, and I have my reasons. You will not convince me that this is all normal and acceptable. How can you even use such arguments against me? You are mine, my wife. Your first loyalty is to me and what I decide, not to your sister.”
A single tear ran down her cheek and then another.
His face tightened even more at the sight of her crying in front of him. He stepped closer to her.
“This is the last time I will hear from you that you want to leave me, or that I could send you away with our child. Do not ever threaten me with that. I do not deserve it. Do you understand?” he demanded sharply, his expression pained.
She choked back a sob, tears running freely down her cheeks.
Darcy exhaled, before pulling her roughly into his arms. “Do not cry, please, sweetheart, I beg you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what, I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered shakily.
“I will try…” he sighed. “You must see that it is not easy for me.”
“I know,” she whispered and clung to him.
Epilogue
Darcy woke up to find the place beside himself empty. Worry tugged at his heart. “Elizabeth!” he cried, his hoarse from sleep voice with an edge to it.
“I am here,” her calm voice answered from the other side of the bed.
He snapped his head in the direction. The window was wide open, and she sat on a chair in front of it, the early morning air blowing on her face.
He dropped back on the pillows. “That warm, love?”
She turned her head to look at him, her hand placed on her extended stomach. “This baby makes me so hot inside. Next time I want to go to confinement in the middle of the winter and not in July.”
He smiled. “I shall see what I can do about that.”
She raised herself very slowly and waddled back to him.
With his help, she climbed onto the bed. She tried to settle on her back, but quickly she turned on her side.
Darcy sat up and began messaging her lower back.
“Do you think that we will have a girl this time?” he could not remove the excitement from his tone.
She moaned unenthusiastically in response. “I know that I want this child out.” The tone of her voice told him that she was close to tears. “I am so exhausted.”
His arm wrapped about her. “It will not last long. A week or two more. Stay in your rooms today.”
She nodded. “I think I will. Could you please ask Martha to draw me a cool bath?”
He kissed her neck. “Perhaps some ice-cream for breakfast?”
She turned her face to him and smiled for the first time this morning. “Yes, please. And send Thomas to me later. I want to see how his knee is healing.”
Darcy kissed her face, whispered „I love you,” and got out of the bed.
When he returned to her two hours later, Elizabeth sat in her private sitting room in her robe, the tea and a saucer with slowly melting ice-cream on the side table within her reach.
Five year old Thomas had his uncommonly skinny, long limb stretched in front of her. The boy had taken his body build from his father, there was no doubt to it.
Elizabeth examined the scraped knee carefully, blowing gently on the wound.
“Does it hurt still, darling?” she asked.
The boy shook his head. “No, Mama.”
Past Darcy’s legs ran three year old Henry, crying loudly. “Mama, Mama!”
The youngest boy tried to climb on Elizabeth, which was rather difficult, due to his much taller brother who fiercely guarded his own space around their mother, refusing to move an inch, and another obstacle in Elizabeth’s large stomach.
“Boys, stop at once!” Darcy ordered, and the children froze. “I have told you many times and asked repeatedly that you not bother your mother now.”
The boys expressions sulked, and they stepped back obediently.
Elizabeth smiled at them warmly, reaching her hand to stroke the dark curls of the younger one. “Run downstairs, darlings, and tell Mrs. Peters that you may have some ice-cream.”
The boys squeaked in joy, and in a matter of seconds they were out of the room, their excited voices heard in the hall.
She lifted her dark eyes at/to him.“It was not necessary to snap at them like that.”
“You spoil them, love, and what is worse, they use your own kindness against you and tire you out.”
She smiled calmly. “I want them to be certain one day that they had a mother who loved them, so they would know how to show affection to their own children. Besides you are always there to put them in line when they get out of control.”
He sat with her while she ate her ice-cream and drank her tea. She seemed in a better mood than in the morning.
“Go to your duties. Do not worry about me,” she said when she noticed that he was stealing glances at the clock. “I shall be fine. I have a new novel to read.” She pointed with her eyes to a thick book nearby. “Besides, Jane promised to come, and I expect Amy any day, perhaps even today.”
“Will Lady Matlock stay for a longer time?” Darcy asked formally.
Elizabeth’s childhood friend had married Darcy’s cousin three years ago, but she had not witnessed her husband finalizing the divorce with his first wife. The woman had been stabbed to the death by one of her lovers during a ball, freeing Edward from his misery, and causing the greatest scandal of the decade in the higher circles of London society.
“Yes, she promised to stay till the birth and sometime after. I cannot burden Jane now, especially when Mr. Cowlishaw is so busy now with that new farm they acquired.”
Darcy nodded. Jane Cowlishaw was with child as well, and her husband was always working stubbornly to ensure her and all their children a comfortable living. He truly admired both of them, and the family that they had created.
As he was descending the staircase, he saw his sister-in-law, surrounded by the brood of red haired children. Jane looked as beautiful and elegant as ever, even the small bump on her front did not ruin the graceful line of her figure. The sisters carried their pregnancies very differently; while Jane was always able to disguise her state for a long time, Elizabeth was as big as a house from the fifth month.
“Jane, so good you came,” Darcy spoke as he approached her. After years of referring to her as Mrs. Cowlishaw, he finally began using her first name. “Elizabeth is very restless.”
She smiled at him. “I cannot stay for long, I am afraid, just two hours before Joe comes to take us back. I am sorry for bringing them all with me.” She gave him an apologetic look as he stared at the five bouncing children. “There was no other way.”
“The more, the merrier, as Elizabeth says,” he assured politely. “Do not worry, sister. Our boys are always pleased with the company.”
“Thomas, Henry!” he cried loudly. “Your cousins are here.”
Soon there was heard the speedy tapping of the little fee
t and two dark haired boys ran to them.
Jane left, going upstairs to Elizabeth, and Darcy lined all the children against the wall. “Now,” he gave them his most stern look. “You will go to the smaller dining room where you will get some ice-cream.” The Cowlishaws heavily freckled little faces lit up at the news. “And you two,” he glared at his sons. “Milk and cookies, because you have already had a portion of ice-cream today. But!” He lifted his finger. “We sit in our seats, we listen to the nanny, and we do not touch anything with our hands.”
The boys’ nanny, Mrs. Peters, was already standing behind him, waiting to take over the children.
Darcy gave her a serious look. “You should call someone to help you today, Mrs. Peters.”
The woman shook her head with a smile. “I shall manage, Master. I had it worse once when Lord and Lady Matlock came with their children at the same time when Mrs. Cowlishaw was in confinement with her youngest one and the other four stayed with us.” The woman glanced at thirteen year-old Abigail Cowlishaw, who held her two year - old sister by her hand.
Darcy nodded and turned to the children again. “Now, you will walk, I repeat, walk to the smaller dining room, after the nanny.”
Mrs. Peters pulled out her hand. “Come, children.”
The End