“Come, Colonel,” Elizabeth said with a false happiness instilled in her words,“it has been a long time since you turned the pages for me as I play.”
“Since Hunsford.”The colonel moved to sit by her on the bench.
“Will Mozart be acceptable, Sir?” Elizabeth smiled at him, trying to seem calm.
Edward spread the music in front of her. “Your company is preferable to the Mozart, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth laughed nervously. “That is wise, Sir, considering my fingers do not do Mozart justice.”
“You always claimed a lack of accomplishment, but you greatly undervalued your talents, Elizabeth.” Edward reached over to turn the page for her.
Uncharacteristically, Elizabeth spoke softly and without confidence. “I would give anything to go back to Hunsford and know what I know now.”
Edward looked at her, surprised by the sudden shift in her mood. “Would you have accepted my cousin then?” Edward mused.
Elizabeth suddenly stopped playing and turned to him with tear-filled eyes. “I would marry Fitzwilliam immediately, then my time with my Husband would have been longer. . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Edward spoke cautiously, “Would you truly risk it all again knowing what you know now?”
“I would,” she whispered.
“Then you still love him despite what comes between you?” Edward wanted to assess the situation.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip, trying to hold back the tears. “Most ardently,” she gasped.
Edward asked at last,“Yet, you understand my cousin’s wishes?”
Elizabeth looked away, unable to respond with the hurt building inside her.“I am well aware of Mr. Darcy’s plans for our future.” She dabbed her eyes with a delicate lace handkerchief.
“Then may I ask, Elizabeth, why you did not respond to your husband? Does he not deserve to know how you feel?”
“Oh, Edward, I cannot,” she wailed. “I want my Fitzwilliam back.”
“Your Fitzwilliam may never return. Can you not accept what this man—this Fitzwilliam wishes? Darcy is very serious about what he expects from you.The man was born serious.” Edward tried unsuccessfully to lighten the mood. “He was left with too much responsibility at too young of an age—raising Georgiana at such a delicate time in her life played heavy on your husband. His responsibilities are great for such a young man, and Darcy is a bit selfish in his dealings with others. He never had to take second place.”
Edward meant to give Elizabeth comfort—to tell her Darcy was determined to make their marriage work, but the woman’s emotions heard a different story. Elizabeth heard Darcy’s cousin and friend say her husband was determined to have things his way, and she must succumb to Darcy’s wants.Women in England had no legal rights; she lived at her husband’s whim. Without him, she had nothing; ironically, with Darcy, Elizabeth would still have nothing.
CHAPTER 21
“The truth is, that in London it is always a sickly season.
Nobody is healthy in London, nobody can be.”
Jane Austen, Emma, 1815
On Monday morning, Darcy and Georgiana prepared to board his chaise and four to leave for London.The colonel departed on Sunday, having to report to his commanding officer by late afternoon on Monday.“I will miss you, Elizabeth.” Georgiana hugged her sister for the third time.“You will write to me often?”
“We will keep the post busy, my Sweet One.” Elizabeth caressed Georgiana’s face and kissed the girl’s cheek lightly.
Darcy stood by the coach’s door, waiting patiently for his sister to say her goodbyes. He wanted Elizabeth to caress his face—to embrace him; yet, she withheld her attentions to him.
“I will tell you all about my endeavors,” Georgiana said nervously.
“Kitty and I will live vicariously through your letters so leave out no details.” Elizabeth offered Georgiana her best smile.“Now, you must go; your brother waits patiently.”
Elizabeth allowed her eyes to drift to where Darcy stood; his serious gaze encompassed her, making her shiver uncomfortably. She stepped past Georgiana, who now hugged Kitty, to speak to her husband.“Be safe, Sir,” she said softly.
“I will keep you informed of Georgiana’s triumphs,” Darcy offered, although these were not the words he wanted to say to his wife at this time.
“Between the two of you, I will feel as if I am there with you.” Elizabeth meant her words to have a double meaning and serve as a cut.
Darcy winched, and she took some pleasure in knowing he felt the pain of her words. He steadied his voice before saying, “Please take care of yourself and our child.”
“I will protect the heir to Pemberley, Sir; you may be assured of that fact.” Elizabeth looked away; the realization of his concern for her lay in her ability to deliver a healthy child.
“We will return before your lying in,” Darcy told her, trying to assure Elizabeth he had no plans to abandon her.
Yet, Elizabeth thought about what would happen to her after delivering the child. Instinctively, she rested her hand on her abdomen.“I love this child, Fitzwilliam,” she mumbled, not sure what she wanted him to know.
“We must leave,” he said at last, knowing he could not walk away from Elizabeth if he delayed any longer. Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it and then pulling it to his face to feel her skin against his.
Elizabeth watched as he closed his eyes to savor the moment, and her body betrayed her vulnerability to Darcy because she impulsively moved in closer to him.“Fitzwilliam,” the word sounded like a plea.
Darcy’s eyes flew open at the sound of desire in her voice. This was the stuff of which his dreams were made.The connection between them existed on a higher level, and he would come back to Elizabeth and love her forever. “Soon,” he whispered, “I will return soon.” He reached out and touched her face, tracing her lips with his fingers, and then he turned, climbed in the coach, and took his leave without ever looking back.
Elizabeth fell into a pattern: taking breakfast alone, making visits to tenants, addressing estate business, dining with Kitty and Mr. Ashford, and crying herself to sleep each evening. Some days she broke the “program” by addressing a letter to Darcy or Georgiana. To his sister, Elizabeth sent news of the tenants, the birth of several new children in Lambton, her plans for the conservatory, the changing weather, new music she learned, and anecdotes about catching Kitty and Mr. Ashford sharing loving embraces. To Darcy, Elizabeth sent information regarding estate business. She did not wish to purposely hurt Darcy, but she could not let the feeling of “dread” escape into her letters to him.
15 April
Elizabeth,
Once again, my brother and I attended an exhibition at the art museum. I cannot say I enjoyed the offerings. My tastes tend to prefer landscapes to scenes of barely clad females being subjugated to domineering males, but the artist received critical acclaim and the stamp of approval from leading members of society, many of whom paid high prices for the privilege of hanging the artwork on their walls.
As usual, the Dorchesters and Miss McFarland joined us for the dinner at Lord Collingsworth’s house, following the museum show. It is a fine house, but it could use Kitty’s eye for color and attention to details.The rooms lacked a sense of cohesiveness even to my untrained eye.
Neither my brother nor I belong at these functions. I abhor conversing and dancing with strangers; I never find an appropriate thing to say although I practice ideas before going to each of the events. I read the newspaper daily trying to glean topics, which might be conversation starters, but I stumble and stutter too much to be a success in that area. Fitzwilliam converses easily, but he dreads being around strangers as much as I. I believe that is why he seeks out the Dorchesters—for the familiarity they provide. Otherwise, I see no reason why he would tolerate them.
I withheld my opinion of these companions until I had time to be around them more, but I share them with you, my da
rling sister, for I am sure you will find them amusing and will be proud of how astute I have become, even if I cannot hold an intelligent conversation.
Henry Dorchester is very much his father’s son so a description of the elder will often apply to his offspring.They are both elegantly dressed at all times, possess impeccable manners, and are perfectly foppish, deep- in- the-pocket dandies. Henry Dorchester is a favorite of the doting mothers seeking matches for their daughters, and as far as I am concerned, those mothers and daughters are welcome to him.The man is self-indulgent and could love no one except himself. I pray Fitzwilliam will tire of the man’s company and allow me to look elsewhere for a match.
Miss McFarland, as part of the Dorchester family, has similar qualities. In your sister’s humble opinion, the woman is a pure example of educated shallowness.A pampered, wasteful life is a mark of her social foible. Miss McFarland constantly wears a plastered-on smile, and although she has a lovely face and is a veritable perfectionist on the dance floor, Miss McFarland is too ambitious and cares for no one but herself. Reportedly, last season she turned down two different marquises.
I do not like the attention the lady delivers to either Fitzwilliam or me; it is very reminiscent of Caroline Bingley. I do not trust the woman, and I often note my brother’s glazed-over look, also very reminiscent of his conversations with Miss Bingley when Mr. Bingley and his sisters used to visit Pemberley.
I will send you more of my most astute insights soon, Elizabeth. Unfortunately, I must close for now; I wish to get this in the next post.
Your loving sister,
Georgiana Darcy
Elizabeth read the letter carefully, especially the part about Cecelia McFarland. A jealous rage went through her. If the woman reminded Georgiana of Caroline Bingley, Elizabeth worried whether Miss McFarland might be her replacement at Pemberley. Obviously, Miss McFarland would make a better mate for her husband than Elizabeth, but she could never imagine why the man she loved would even consider such a woman.
Her husband’s letter offered a more sterile version of the events and had less emphasis on the company they kept and more emphasis on his sister’s apparent growing apprehension. Elizabeth answered them both politely but with little enthusiasm. Her life was a façade. She wrote polite letters to a husband who planned to divorce her and take her child and to a girl she cherished as her family but who would soon be forbidden to see her.The irony of it was not lost on Elizabeth.
Georgiana anxiously opened the letter from Elizabeth. The letters from her brother’s wife soothed Georgiana’s homesick-ness, and the girl reread them religiously. She and her brother had been in London nearly three weeks, and all she wanted was to return to Pemberley.
20 April
My dearest sister,
Your letters continue to delight Kitty and me.Your “astute” observations open a window on London society, and I admit to no longer desiring to being among the social elite.
Fitzwilliam’s letters give us the schedule you keep, but yours provide the depth of self-possession I do often imagine.With what all you describe, I am surprised you have not encountered the Prince Regent at every turn.
I am afraid, my lovely sister, I have sad news to share this time. A violent late-night thunderstorm rattled across the county two nights ago, and a lightning strike found its way to the small barn. Smoke and fire spread quickly, flames licking the roof as Mr. Howard, the stable staff, and many of the household staff fought valiantly to save the structure.
I feared we would lose it all—the horses and the barns—but Mr. Howard would not allow that to happen.The man risked everything, Georgiana, rushing into the burning building to release the horses from their stalls.The water brigade labored long and hard before they contained the blaze. Of course, the rain helped to squelch the fire more quickly than if it were from another source. Please tell Fitzwilliam his Cerberus is safe, and no men were seriously injured.
The only loss that evening was my sweet Penelope. I feel her loss greatly as she was a wedding gift from my husband. He chose her for her gentleness and her spirit, and I miss the trust she had in me.We did not lose Penelope directly to the fire, but to the excitement and fright she felt before Mr. Howard could reach her. She bolted, according to Mr. Howard, and one flaying hoof wedged into the gate. Spooked by the flames, my Penelope thrashed, trying to free her leg, and shattered it.A grieving Mr. Howard put Penelope down.
A cold sickness seeps into my being when I think of the end of Penelope’s life, but please tell Fitzwilliam not to rush to replace her. I know his generous nature, but it will be some time before I ride again, and maybe by then, I will be more inclined to accept her replacement.
I leave you with this sad news. Give Fitzwilliam my regard.
Your sister,
E. D.
When her brother returned from his club, Georgiana shared Elizabeth’s letter. She watched his reaction closely. “Elizabeth handles the estate well, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said cautiously.
“She does,” he added, but did not quit reading the letter. “I should have been there,” he whispered.
“What, Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana called, although she heard him plainly.
“Nothing, Georgiana.” He turned back to her. “I am sure Mr. Howard sent his report.” A feeling of jealousy rose in Darcy again. His wife’s praise of his steward did not set well with him. He pictured Elizabeth desolate at the loss of her horse, and Mr. Howard comforting her before putting the horse down. The image rocked his being. It also bothered Darcy the horse was one of his wedding gifts to his wife, and now it was gone.
Darcy sat at the desk in his study wondering about this decision to come to London and to leave Elizabeth at Pemberley. Each night he dreamed of her—of how she touched him—of how she kissed him. Each night he dreamed of her with the tenants and with the staff at Pemberley; Elizabeth made his house a home. Darcy had been in London for several weeks, and he had yet to see a woman half as pretty as his Elizabeth. A fleeting smile played across his lips. Soon—soon he would go home to her.
Elizabeth opened the letter from her Aunt Gardiner expecting news about her nieces and nephews. She had an image of Darcy holding Cassandra Gardiner at Christmastime and how she rejoiced in knowing she would give him his own child soon. Elizabeth ached from the memory, feeling deprived of her great love.
21 April
My dearest Lizzy,
Your uncle and I hope this letter finds you in health and anticipating your lying in. If you so wish, I will come to Pemberley to be with you at that time. My child, we are so worried about your condition.Your uncle and I know of the stress in which you find yourself, and we are grieved we can do nothing to alter your situation.
My husband demanded I write to you this evening although I, truthfully, question whether the information I share will not cause you more alarm. Mr. Gardiner and I attended the theatre earlier this evening, and much to our chagrin, we found Mr. Darcy and his sister in attendance. Miss Darcy acknowledged us from their box, but, of course, Mr. Darcy did not.We understood from your father the result of your husband’s recent attack and were not offended by this oversight.
What did infuriate your uncle was the conduct of Mr. Darcy during the performance. Lord Dorchester and his son, as well as a fashionably dressed lady who we were later to find out to be Miss Cecelia McFarland, accompanied Mr. Darcy. We watched in horror as the young woman often reached out to touch Mr. Darcy’s arm, and he repeatedly leaned toward her as they exchanged comments on the performance.
Mr. Gardiner sought them out during the interlude and demanded Mr. Darcy speak to him privately.Although Mr. Darcy did not recognize Mr. Gardiner, Miss Darcy discreetly explained the connection, and he and your uncle stepped outside to discuss the events which transpired. I stayed with Miss Darcy and the Dorchester party, trying to make small talk.
When Mr. Gardiner and your husband returned before the start of the next act, they were both clearly agitated. My dear husband refuses to give me
the content of the exchange, saying such language should not be shared with ladies, but both men obviously spoke their minds. Mr. Gardiner demanded Mr. Darcy consider what he did to you, my dear, by his conduct. Mr. Gardiner believes Mr. Darcy’s lack of decorum to be a product of the ton. He told your husband as such. I do not know what Mr. Darcy’s response was, but I am sure indignation played into it.
My dearest Lizzy, I wish I was not so compelled to tell you of this incident; I would prefer to shield you from it forever, but as a married woman, you must face these possibilities from Mr. Darcy.
Your loving aunt,
M.G.
As the weeks passed and Elizabeth continued to hear news of Darcy’s keeping company with Miss McFarland, she became more convinced her earlier fears of his disengagement a reality. She resolved she would not “allow” Darcy to take their child from her. Men had legal rights to their children, but Elizabeth would find a way.
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