The Second Mrs. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation Novella

by Renata McMann

  “Those might be used by her grandchildren.” That hadn’t occurred to Anne. It was obvious Elizabeth knew much more about these things than she did. “Longbourn is a smaller, much less elegant place,” Elizabeth continued. “We give our tenants both clothing and food, but we didn’t have nearly as many tenants as are at Pemberley. It’s easier to know all of them.”

  Anne reached for a bell and rang it. She appreciated Elizabeth’s attempt at tact, but realized she didn’t know any of the tenants here. She knew many at Rosings, but even there she wouldn’t know what was sent on such an occasion. At Rosings, her mother had prevented her from involvement in things. Here, she simply hadn’t taken the effort.

  When a maid responded, Anne asked for Mrs. Reynolds to be sent for. “I’ll ask her,” Anne said, a little embarrassed she couldn’t answer the question herself. It occurred to her that if Elizabeth had married Darcy, she would know by now. Anne didn’t like the comparison, and quickly pressed it from her mind. Elizabeth was to be her friend, not her rival. She, after all, had Darcy as her husband. Nothing could ever change that.

  Mrs. Reynolds came promptly, nodding as Anne reiterated Elizabeth’s question. Mrs. Reynolds told them, “Mr. Darcy said to continue with past custom concerning these things.”

  Anne appreciated Mrs. Reynolds’ tact as well, but felt her face color slightly. She could almost hear the housekeep add, ‘So as not to trouble you, ma’am.’ She realized Mrs. Reynolds was still speaking, detailing the food and fabric that Pemberley gave for each birth, and endeavored to pay attention.

  “Considering Miss Bennet’s interest, would it be appropriate to augment this?” Anne asked when the list was finished.

  “Certainly, especially considering Mrs. Douglas’ recent widowhood.”

  Anne watched as Elizabeth and Mrs. Reynolds discussed what should be done, a bit envious at the easy interaction between the two women and Elizabeth’s obvious knowledge of what was needed. In particular, Elizabeth mentioned they needed to be sure that Mrs. Douglas had plenty of firewood in her cottage at all times.

  Anne was unsure why that was so important to Elizabeth, but as she watched Darcy’s first love take charge of something that should be her duty, a plan began to form in her mind. Anne had no illusions about her health. She’d made provisions for Rosings to go to her child. It was her duty to make provisions for Pemberley and Darcy as well. Darcy wasn’t the only one who knew what duty was. She didn’t know how yet, but Anne would find a means to keep Elizabeth at Pemberley, should she die.

  Seeking a way to contribute to the conversation at hand, Anne suggested that she and Elizabeth could make a few additional items for Mrs. Douglas’ baby, recalling that was one thing she had done at Rosings. It would be a good use of her time, she felt, and she already had an ample supply of baby clothes for her own child. In fact, with so much time at her disposal and unlimited resources, she already had clothing to last the first year and beyond.

  When that project commenced the following day, Anne found it particularly pleasing, since she sewed better than Elizabeth. She hid her satisfaction in finding one area which she excelled in, while they both worked on a layette for the impending Douglas baby. Elizabeth further bolstered her ego by being generous with her praise.

  Anne enjoyed making garments for her own child but never thought of doing it for anyone else at Pemberley. It gave her a sense of satisfaction to do something useful. Mrs. Jenkinson had encouraged her to sew charitable garments for Rosings’ tenants’ children, but that had been an abstract idea, with Mrs. Jenkinson advising her on what fabrics to use and what size garments to make. Somehow, it meant more when it was her own choices and her own idea.

  Two weeks later, they took the carriage to deliver the layette. Anne was surprised at how well kept the cottage was, considering the exceedingly gravid state of Mrs. Douglas. She was also surprised at the spaciousness of the dwelling and the quality of the furnishings. If this was typical, the tenants here had better housing than those at Rosings. Anne wondered if that meant Darcy was overly generous, but rather suspected her mother was overly stingy. She wondered if she should make an effort to change things at Rosings.

  Elizabeth came into the parlor one day and found Mrs. Darcy embroidering. It looked like another baby garment, but Mrs. Darcy had more than enough embroidered garments and they certainly weren’t making clothing that fine for the Douglas baby. Of course, Anne seemed to enjoy doing it and had a very fine stitch, so she was most likely doing it for her own enjoyment. Mrs. Darcy folded the garment and put it in the basket by her chair, saying, “I want to show you something.”

  Elizabeth waited while Anne arose. Mrs. Darcy was wrapped in shawls and blankets and it took her a while to shed them. She led Elizabeth up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, opening the door to a beautiful bedroom. It was a woman’s room with simple, yet elegant, furniture. The furniture was in a light wood and the bed hangings were a pale green. The green and the light wood were echoed throughout the room, with two exceptions. There was a chaise lounge which was more ornate than Pemberley’s furniture but at least looked comfortable. There also was a dark wood desk which didn’t fit the carefully planned décor. It had elaborate carvings all over it. It stood out, in an unfortunate way. The handles to the drawers and cabinets had flowers on them, which echoed carved wooden flowers all over the desk. It didn’t look right in the room. It might not look right anywhere.

  “This is my room,” Mrs. Darcy said. “Mr. Darcy said I could redecorate it, but I like his mother’s tastes. The curtains and bed hangings needed replacing, but I copied the ones that were here.”

  “It’s very nice,” Elizabeth said, eying the desk, hoping Mrs. Darcy would not ask her to comment on it.

  “The desk is hideous,” Mrs. Darcy said, a smile curving her lips. “I obviously brought it from Rosings.”

  “If it’s hideous, why did you bring it?” Elizabeth asked, surprised by Anne’s ready admission.

  “Because it was my grandmother’s.”

  “Were you close to your grandmother?”

  “I was close to both of them,” Anne said, gazing past Elizabeth, out the window. Her face took on a wistful countenance that Elizabeth was learning to recognize as Anne recalling the time in her life before she grew ill. “This was the Countess’ desk. She was my maternal grandmother. She was the one who taught my mother that the more sumptuous and ornate something is, the better it looks. Thus, Rosings as you see it today. But she read me stories and listened to my childish prattle. I loved her.” Anne smiled again, turning to face Elizabeth as she continued. “My father’s mother taught me to embroider. She also taught me practical sewing. My mother said there was no reason for me to know how to sew my own clothes or to make baby clothes, but I’m glad I learned. The nice thing about sewing is that I can work at it for a few minutes and put it down. When I come back, it’s still there, whether it be a minute later or a month later. I give a few things to the poor every year. Not a lot. But if a family gets a baby gown from me, they might remember me.” This last was spoken with a melancholy that gave Elizabeth pause, for she’d never heard Anne sound so sad before.

  “That’s nice of you,” Elizabeth said, deciding to respond to the words, rather than the tone.

  “I also like the desk because it has a secret compartment, just like in the tales my grandmother used to read me. I’m fascinated by how well constructed it is, in spite of its garishness. Let me show you.”

  “Oh no,” Elizabeth said, raising a hand in protest. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  This time, Elizabeth found Anne’s smile inscrutable. Ignoring her protests, Mrs. Darcy moved to the desk. “Watch,” she said, proceeding to adjust a wooden lily, an iris and a daffodil. When all three carved flowers were moved, there was a small slot visible, which could be used to open a compartment. “Open the ‘lid,’ grandmamma said. That’s how I should remember the flowers. L for lily, I for iris and D for daffodil. Here, you try.”

  Sti
ll feeling intrusive, but fascinated by the craftsmanship, Elizabeth complied. She was surprised at how easy it was. Several other flowers moved, but didn’t appear to open anything. “You have nothing in the compartment,” she said, opening and closing the lid as she tried to spy the invisible mechanisms that made the compartment work.

  “That’s because I have nothing I need to hide,” Anne said with that same unreadable smile.

  Elizabeth felt a pang of regret. She had to hide Mr. Darcy’s proposal and her growing feeling that it was a mistake to refuse him. That was a horrible thought, considering he was married, and worse yet, married to her hostess.

  Wouldn’t it be nice to have nothing to hide?

  Chapter 7

  Elizabeth was sorry that the next several days were too wet to walk. After one day spent almost entirely reading, and a second at quietly practicing on Georgiana’s beautiful pianoforte, she ended up pacing the halls of Pemberley. It didn’t quite satisfy her longing for exercise, since there was something about being outdoors which she needed. To make matters worse, a servant on horseback cancelled a local family’s coming to dinner, citing bad roads. Elizabeth realized her only real company here was Mrs. Darcy, who was spending an increasing amount of time in her bedroom or the adjoining sitting room.

  When word came that Nelly Douglas delivered a healthy boy, Elizabeth decided she had to visit. She asked Mrs. Reynolds to prepare a basket of food and borrowed an umbrella. Even though she knew it showed a lack of decorum, she paced the foyer until the rain subsided to a mere drizzle, then took the opportunity to make a dash to Nelly’s cottage.

  She was pleased when a neighbor answered the door, having feared the rain would inhibit the help Mrs. Reynolds told her Nelly would receive. After admiring the baby and delivering the food, she saw the drizzle was turning into a loud patter and the wind was picking up. Concerned conditions outside would only worsen, she bid a hasty farewell and left. It quickly became clear the wind was too strong for the use of an umbrella, making the device into more of a liability than an asset. She closed it and started running. She arrived muddy and soaking wet.

  When dressed in dry clothing, she rushed to put up her still-damp hair in preparation for dinner. She arrived in the dining room exactly on the hour, a bit flustered from her hurry, only to be told that Mrs. Darcy wasn’t coming down. Elizabeth ate her dinner in solitary state, wishing she dared read at the table. She finished quickly and escaped to the library to select something with which to entertain herself for the rest of the evening.

  The next morning, she resolved to check on Mrs. Darcy. Even if she was not allowed to write to Lady Catharine, if Mrs. Darcy was less well than usual, there must be something Elizabeth could do. She walked down the corridor, spotting a maid leaving Mrs. Darcy’s room. She was chewing, but stopped upon seeing Elizabeth.

  “Is Mrs. Darcy up to seeing visitors?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” The girl said, her garbled words betraying the food in her mouth.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth knocked and was bid enter.

  Mrs. Darcy was sitting, with her feet up, in an ornate chaise lounge matching the one Elizabeth saw in her bed chamber the day Anne showed her the desk. Looking around, Elizabeth could see that nothing else in this room was from Rosings. Aside from the chase, everything had the clean elegant lines of Pemberley. The chaises must be very comfortable indeed, Elizabeth reflected, for Anne to bring them when she obviously preferred Mr. Darcy’s style to her mother’s.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

  “Of course not,” Anne said. She gestured to a nearby chair. “Please, sit.”

  “I was concerned about you, since you didn’t come down for dinner.” Elizabeth said, seating herself.

  “I wasn’t feeling well, but you see I’m better. I’ve eaten my breakfast.”

  The empty plate suggested someone ate it, but Elizabeth doubted it was Mrs. Darcy. She was doubly sad for Mrs. Darcy, both because she wasn’t eating and because she was so terrified of being spied on that she engaged in such subterfuge. Always thin, she looked tinier than before, in spite of her pregnancy. Elizabeth wished she could consult someone about her hostess’ health, but didn’t know anyone near to consult.

  Feeling it her only means of helping Mrs. Darcy in any way, Elizabeth resolved to play her part as companion as best she could. She ignored the empty plate and talked cheerfully about Nelly Douglas. She spoke of the cottager’s easy delivery, and her healthy son, being sure not to mention any of the less savory rigors of childbirth.

  “She named him Fitz in honor of Mr. Darcy. I hope you don’t mind,” Elizabeth said. She elected not to tell Mrs. Darcy that Fitz’ middle name was Bennet, because Nelly recognized some of the help she received from Pemberley came from Elizabeth.

  “Of course not. I’m sure my husband will be pleased,” Mrs. Darcy said. She sounded as tired as she looked.

  “Mrs. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, causing Anne to open eyes which had sunk shut. “Is there anything you need? Something or someone I can send for?”

  “I simply need to rest,” Mrs. Darcy said. “Thank you for entertaining me.” She gave Elizabeth a warm smile. “I do appreciate how trying so much solitude must be for you, who have four sisters and both mother and father. It’s good of you to stay on.”

  “It’s not kindness,” Elizabeth said, wanting to give solace to this woman, who seemed to have everything and yet had so little. “I am your friend. I’ll stay here until you are well or Mr. Darcy returns.”

  Mrs. Darcy smiled, but even such a small act seemed to cause her effort. “On such kind words, I think I shall take a nap. Please forgive my dismissal.”

  Elizabeth stood. “Send for me if you need me,” she said, but Mrs. Darcy’s eyes were already closed.

  Hurrying from the room with light steps, Elizabeth immediately sought Mrs. Reynolds, who was in the kitchen overseeing the inventorying of the spices. Elizabeth didn’t like to interrupt, but Mrs. Darcy’s increased pallor and weakness concerned her deeply. “Mrs. Reynolds, may I trouble you for a moment aside?”

  The housekeeper nodded, setting down her ledger and leading Elizabeth to a quiet room off of the kitchen. “Yes, Miss Bennet?”

  “I’m worried about Mrs. Darcy’s health,” Elizabeth said, feeling no need to mince her words with Mrs. Reynolds. “I don’t know anyone to consult on this. I can’t write Mr. Darcy. Could you do so?”

  “Mr. Darcy told me to follow Mrs. Darcy’s orders and she ordered me not to write him about her health. She even told him she would do that and he reinforced her order.”

  Elizabeth was surprised at this, wondering if Wickham was correct when he said that Mrs. Darcy ordered Mr. Darcy about. He must truly be besotted with her. It was not, then, a union born solely of convenience.

  “I promised not to write Mr. Darcy or her mother,” Elizabeth admitted, pacing the small room. Suddenly, she had an idea. Her friend, Mrs. Collins, saw Mrs. Darcy’s mother regularly. “But there is someone I can write,” she said, halting her steps to turn to Mrs. Reynolds.

  “Do so soon or the roads will be impassible in this rain,” Mrs. Reynolds said, her usually calm tone tinged with urgency and hope.

  Elizabeth hurried to her room to compose the letter. She wrote quickly, describing the situation and her concern, making sure Charlotte knew that Mr. Darcy hasn’t been informed for no one at Pemberley had the means to write him. Elizabeth knew she was breaking the spirit of her promise, but surely someone should be informed about Mrs. Darcy’s health. When she returned downstairs, Mrs. Reynolds had a rider waiting, to ensure the letter caught the mail.

  On his return, the mud spattered rider reported success in his mission, but that the roads were impassable to carriages. He said most of the tenants were pulled from other employments to attempt to shore them up, but he didn’t think even that would help for long. His news brought new worries to Elizabeth, both that it was too late to summon help
for Mrs. Darcy and that Nelly Douglas and her new baby would be neglected. She didn’t wish for Nelly to lose yet another child.

  That afternoon, Elizabeth had her dinner in Mrs. Darcy’s room and gently bullied her into eating. She kept an eagle-eye on her hostess’ plate, worried that Mrs. Darcy would sneak away food, and watched until almost half of the content of each dish was consumed. As much of her focus as that took, there was another issue Elizabeth felt she should attend to.

  “I’m concerned about Nelly Douglas and Fitz,” she said, hoping to distract Mrs. Darcy almost as much as she hoped to help the cottager and her child. “I was told that the rains have created more work for the men and some of the women are working, too. Would it be too much to ask to have Nelly and her baby come to Pemberley?”

  “Of course not,” Mrs. Darcy said.

  To Elizabeth’s satisfaction, the topic seemed to stir a small level of energy in Mrs. Darcy. She reached for the pull cord that rang for a servant, but when the girl arrived, her orders were to accept Miss Bennet’s orders on this issue. While she was pleased to be allowed to conduct the move as she liked, she’d hoped Mrs. Darcy’s interest in Nelly and Fitz would stir her to a slightly more active role. Mrs. Darcy’s increased listlessness concerned Elizabeth deeply.

  The following morning, Elizabeth consulted Mrs. Darcy’s coachman, who told her a carriage trip was longer and risked being caught in the mud. He seemed nervous as he said it, as if fearing she would blame him for the state of the roads. Assuring him she understood there was only so much a carriage could accomplish, Elizabeth sought out Mrs. Reynolds for help.

  In the end, it was agreed Elizabeth would bring four men with her to help the move. Before leaving the manor, Elizabeth made it clear that Nelly and Fitz were to have a room with a fireplace, meaning it must be a guest bedroom. She also ordered a hot bath drawn, knowing Mrs. Douglas would be wet and cold by the time they returned. Before she made the request, Elizabeth worried Mrs. Reynolds would protest such breaches of protocol, but the housekeeper seemed pleased.