Revelation pierced her heart and she felt cold and hot at once. Forcing herself to remain calm when she would rather cry, she affected a laugh. “What an active imagination you have! And you claim to not be romantic!”
Charlotte soon had to leave and Elizabeth fled to her room. How had it happened and how had she not known? How stupid and blind had she been? It was impossible for two ladies who were her close friends, and both declared no interest in romance, to see the same thing and it not be true. That Mr. Darcy had loved her. Nay, more incredible. The charge was that she had loved him!
She laid awake two whole hours endeavouring to make out her feelings. She did not hate Darcy and was now ashamed to say she had ever disliked him. She respected and esteemed him now. Indeed, she worried about his welfare as last she had heard he was still recovering from fever. But for Charlotte to think he loved her and then for Anne to think it months later, it must be very ardent love. Sensible of her married position, Elizabeth did not venture to consider her happiness must be tied to his, but when she felt cast aside by her family, she could not help but feel gratitude toward Mr. Darcy for loving her. For his sake, she hoped it was all over. For herself, she knew now if one could divide the heart, if one could cut up just a sliver and give it away and be safe from losing the whole of it, Mr. Darcy would forever have that piece of hers.
The day of Lydia’s wedding drew near, and upon their mother’s insistence, Lydia and Wickham would be visiting Longbourn before journeying to Newcastle as Wickham was now an ensign in the army. Elizabeth could scarcely tolerate the idea of it. The day before the wedding, an express came. She read it in her mother’s room, which the girls all used as a drawing-room now.
“What is it, Lizzy?” Kitty asked upon seeing her sister’s pale face.
“Jane and Papa…” she could find no words this time and gave into tears.
She passed the letter around. Mr. Gardiner would arrive in two days’ time after the burial matters for Mr. Bennet and Jane were concluded. Bingley had to remain in London, he was too sick to leave his bed. Mrs. Gardiner and the children were also too weak for a journey. Lydia and Wickham would be married as planned, as they could not wait for a mourning period after having lived together for two weeks in secrecy. They would accompany Mr. Gardiner to Longbourn.
Elizabeth looked around the once cheerful home and felt as though the walls were covered in black. Mrs. Bennet broke into a fit of true distress and none of her children were able to calm her. The apothecary was called to administer some Balm of Gilead.
By the time Mr. Gardiner and the Wickhams arrived, Elizabeth felt numb. Her mother was confined to her room and dosed heavily. Kitty and Mary were silent wraiths in the house. There was no more chattering or bickering among the girls. Lydia’s loud boasts of her marriage and demands for congratulations were so vulgar and coarse, Elizabeth wanted to throttle the girl. She would have blamed Lydia for their father’s death but there was the matter of Wickham. Wickham was allowed his seduction through her own silence, which she would never regret keeping as it was a service to Mr. Darcy.
Resolved that she could not stay at Longbourn any longer, Elizabeth had just come from the breakfast room where she wrote a necessary letter to Mr. Collins when she heard Lydia retelling their sisters the story of her marriage.
“I did worry who could give me away. My uncle was taking so long settling things…” Elizabeth was pleased to see Lydia could show some humility and humanity on the subject of their father’s death. “Then I realized Mr. Darcy could do just as well since Mr. Bingley was sick, but in the end, Uncle arrived on time anyway.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked as she drew closer.
“La! It was supposed to be a secret. There are so many things to remember these days. What to tell, what to not tell.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, just that my mind was getting all jumbled. My uncle and husband were making lists the whole way here. Who to pay, who to tell about the marriage, about Jane and Papa. With all the discussion about informing others, I forgot what I should not say.”
“Mr. Darcy was at your wedding and you must keep it a secret?”
“Yes and if you press me any longer I will be forced to tell you all!”
Elizabeth was sorely tempted to apply for more information, but Lydia looked distressed. Elizabeth resolved to ask her aunt but in the meantime decided it was not unusual for Darcy to have a lively interest in this situation through his connection with Wickham and the fact that he knew the Gardiners quite well from visiting with Bingley all the time.
A few days later, Elizabeth returned with Mr. Gardiner to London and then went by post to Hunsford. She would have liked to visit her aunt and cousins, but between the recent illness and the carriage’s schedule, she did not have time. Before leaving she whispered to her mother, “I promise we shall care for you, Mama. I will be back shortly.”
Elizabeth wrote Charlotte that she relied heavily on her to visit Kitty and Mary to provide some sensible companionship and encouraged Lady Lucas to visit often as well, although her mother was assured the constant support of Mrs. Phillips.
Upon arrival at the Parsonage, she was blocked entrance by the servants.
“A cottage has been arranged for you, Mrs. Collins,” the maid said.
“Why?” Elizabeth cried in confusion. Was Mr. Collins sending her away? Could he not wait until after they returned to Longbourn? While not a large manor house there were rooms aplenty there.
“Lady Catherine demands the house quarantined since Mr. Collins took sick.”
“Mr. Collins is ill? Why did no one tell me? For how long?” Elizabeth did not wait to hear answers and began walking up the lane.
“Mrs. Collins!” the maid’s call turned her back. “You will not be allowed to enter up there either. Her ladyship and Miss de Bourgh are ill as well.”
“Good heavens! No wonder I was not informed.”
Desperate for information, she allowed herself to be taken to her new residence and wrote a quick note to the Rosings housekeeper. The answer shocked her. Mr. Collins was at first shunned by Lady Catherine, of course, but once he had news of Lydia’s engagement to Wickham, he went to tell her the good news. While calling, he fell sick with a high fever and cough, tell-tale signs of the London outbreak. Lady Catherine would not allow him to return home, but her good deed was soon returned with the illness spreading to her and Anne. They had all been terribly sick for nearly three weeks now and were reaching the crisis moment of the illness. The physician gave none of them good odds.
“Oh! God!” Elizabeth cried in the cottage sitting-room. “Is this my due punishment? Spare the innocent! Smite me!” Was it marrying a man she did not love that was the grave offense? Or was it realizing she loved another man even if she would always remain virtuous to her husband? What indiscretion of youth should she repent of?
After a good cry and a night of little sleep, Elizabeth awoke recalling that many in London suffered, not just her family and friends. That afternoon, news was brought to her that Lady Catherine and her husband expired at nearly the same moment. The servants were already saying, as devoted to his patroness as Mr. Collins was, he could not bear to live in a world without her. Elizabeth rather wondered if that was indeed the case.
*****
September 5, 1812
Darcy House, London
“No, leave it! I do not care if it is pressed or not, but we leave in an hour!” Darcy commanded his valet about his bedchamber.
Minutes later, a very ill Bingley shadowed his doorframe.
“Bingley! You should not be up. I had not meant to disturb you,” Darcy said and made to assist his friend to his room.
“What are you doing?” Bingley asked in a hoarse voice.
“I am leaving for Rosings, immediately.”
“Rosings?”
“My aunt has died,” Darcy said, refusing to meet Bingley’s eyes for that was not truly his reason for going.
“I
am sorry, Darcy. I am not sure you were very close to her but, she was your mother’s sister. Her daughter must be suffering terribly! Mrs. Collins must be a comfort to her.”
“Mrs. Collins is in need of support herself,” Darcy said.
“What was that?”
“In an unsurprising turn of events, Mr. Collins died moments after my aunt.”
Bingley looked aghast. “And you intend to charge to Rosings?”
“It is not like that,” Darcy said. “I only wish to know that she is well and taken care of. Last I heard from Anne, Elizabeth hated me. Although surely she accepts that Wickham is a rake. She may blame me for his eloping with Lydia, but she just lost her dearest sister and her father. Now she is homeless and very nearly friendless.”
“I do not think you ought to go. In the best of circumstances for you, you have no future until after her mourning ends. Why not wait to visit until that time? You have barely recovered yourself.”
“I have no hope of ever attaining her hand. I do not go for me. If I had told you to wait before visiting Jane, could any logic or reason keep you?”
“No. I was driven by an instinctive urge. I had need of seeing her again.”
“Then you understand,” Darcy said. A movement in the hall drew his notice and the butler appeared with an express. Darcy ripped it open.
“Dear God!”
“What is it?”
“Only one thing could keep me from Elizabeth’s side and that is Georgiana.”
“Is she ill? I thought she had left London.”
“Yes, she left weeks ago with my aunt and uncle. This sickness! One falls ill nearly immediately or even a month after exposure. Some suffer for weeks, others seem to improve quickly. What a scourge!”
“What will you do?”
“I must go to Georgiana, of course. I will write to Anne to keep me informed about Elizabeth.”
Bingley returned to his room and Darcy informed his staff of the change of plans.
Chapter Nine
September 14, 1812
Rosings, Kent
Elizabeth was finally allowed to visit Anne at Rosings. The lady managed to survive when her mother had not, but the doctor predicted it would leave her forever weakened. Elizabeth cried tears of joy to see her friend, even if her former vitality would never return.
“I wish that you will stay with me at Rosings, but I mean to give you the cottage you are in. It shall always be yours, even after I die,” Anne said to her friend.
“Do not talk like that!”
Anne sighed and obediently changed the subject. “What becomes of Longbourn?”
“The solicitor has told me that it will take some time to decipher if the entailment was fulfilled. Mr. Collins died only days after my father and, therefore, nothing legally recorded. If it is ruled that Mr. Collins did succeed my father, then the entail is fulfilled and the estate will pass to my husband’s heir.”
“You or a child?” Anne asked hopefully.
Elizabeth shook her head. “It seems Mr. Collins put off updating his will. He had not wanted to spend more time away from the parish. Mother is furious with me and despairing.”
Anne squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. They both knew that Elizabeth meant Mr. Collins had not wanted to displease Lady Catherine by taking another holiday, however brief, to London. The ladies fell silent when the tea tray was brought in, but one look at the lemon tarts and Elizabeth fell ill.
After calling for a maid, Anne insisted Elizabeth rest. “No, I am fine now, truly. It is worse on mornings I do not eat first. I slept late and then was too excited to call on you and missed breakfast.”
“How long have you been ill?”
Elizabeth had to pause and think. It had been so busy with caring for her family. “Around six weeks.”
Anne frowned. “I am sending for the physician and you shall not argue with me.”
Upon examination, the physician informed Elizabeth that she would have a piece to remember her departed husband by forever. Mr. Collins’ heir would come in April. In the meantime, all one could do was wait. A son would be the answer to all of Mrs. Bennet’s prayers.
The burden Elizabeth now felt was heavier than ever. She knew it was useless, but she felt guilty all the same. There was little she could have done to change matters before. Mr. Bennet would not have listened to any vague reasonings to not send Lydia to Brighton. Nor could she have saved Jane’s life. In this, however, she could be of real, lasting use to her family. Her mother would not need to worry about her home and income, nor what would happen to her two younger daughters. With the same fervency she had desired to save Jane from unhappiness in marriage to Mr. Collins, Elizabeth now hoped she could spare her mother and remaining sisters the sorrow of expulsion from their home.
Mrs. Bennet was delighted to hear Elizabeth was with child and invited her to spend Christmas at Longbourn, strongly suggesting that Elizabeth quit Kent entirely. Although a portion of her did not trust her mother to remain supportive and loving, a greater portion of her desired to please her mother who had suffered so much. To Longbourn, she went.
*****
December 24, 1812
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
“Happy Christmas, Mama.” Elizabeth gingerly stepped down from the carriage, before stiffly embracing her mother.
“How can you say such a thing? Your first return to Longbourn since the death of dear Jane and your father, and you tell me it is a happy Christmas? This has been a most dreadful year.”
Elizabeth tried to swallow her tears of fury. She had given up much for her family’s sake and could barely tolerate beholding the estate now.
Her mother patted her daughter’s swollen belly, which was beginning to show she was with child. “I am sure the next year will be better. You will do your duty and bear a son. You owe your departed husband that. If only Lydia and Wickham were here!”
Elizabeth cringed. After Lydia’s slip of the tongue, revealing Darcy had been at her wedding, Elizabeth eventually wrote Mrs. Gardiner asking for details. She chose not to ask Anne. Elizabeth supposed Darcy’s feelings of admiration for her had ceased and was only involved as he knew the Gardiners. She did not want such news confirmed, however.
Elizabeth alone, out of her sisters and mother, knew the truth of how Lydia and Wickham were discovered in a seedy hotel in London. Wickham had never meant to marry Lydia at all. Her aunt refused to divulge more information than that.
Elizabeth could only imagine how much her uncle had to put out to bribe Wickham and settle the marriage.
How unjust it was that her disgraceful sister and her foul lover never became ill when a terrible fever ran rampant in London. The Gardiners did not entirely escape without consequence. Mrs. Gardiner bore a still-born babe mere weeks ago. Elizabeth rubbed her hand over her belly as her own baby kicked. She had not considered before what having children with Mr. Collins would be like, but daily as the child grew within her, Elizabeth was more and more thankful for it and loved it. She prayed she would never know the pain of losing a child as her aunt and mother had suffered.
Her family’s very future swayed in the balance. After weeks of review, it was determined that Mr. Collins had succeeded as master of Longbourn but as he left no will, the estate would pass to his nearest male relative. If Elizabeth bore a daughter, Longbourn would pass to a distant male relation. Said relative was already married, with sons too young for Mrs. Bennet to attempt to foist on one of her daughters. They knew nothing of his character; who could say if he was mean spirited? At any rate, there would not be room enough for his family, in addition to the remaining Bennets, to all live at Longbourn. At least, Anne insisted Elizabeth would always have a home. Above it all, she hated that her unborn child should be valued more as a male than as a female. It felt like casting lots over her babe and Elizabeth detested it. She would love and cherish her baby no matter what the future held.
Elizabeth knew she should be aggrieved at the loss of her husband, but she coul
d not. He had never been harsh to her, but by his death, Elizabeth had escaped the discredit and misery her father cautioned her of. The hazard of a marriage of so unequal affection had become quite apparent in recent months. Not only could she never esteem her husband, but her heart also belonged forever to another.
*****
April 10, 1813
Margate, Kent
“Sanders gave me the post,” the widowed Mrs. Hurst said as she entered the drawing-room of a large house Darcy rented near the beach. “Oh, another letter from Rosings,” Mrs. Hurst observed and handed the envelope to Mr. Darcy. “We cannot be above a day’s drive from there. It must be beautiful this time of year. Will you journey there for Easter this year as usual?”
Before Darcy could answer her impertinent questions, Miss Bingley chimed in. “It would be dreadful to put poor Georgiana through such a journey right now and surely Mr. Darcy would not wish to leave her alone.”
Darcy’s grip on his letter tightened. He had invited Bingley and his sisters to travel with him and Georgiana because he believed she needed female companionship. That was months ago and they had long worn out their welcome. He had not expected Bingley to desire to stay so long and in general, he was usually more aware of Darcy’s thinning patience. The ladies went too far in presuming they knew his desires and what was best for his invalid sister.
“Louisa, we must go now if we are to call on Mrs. Carver,” Miss Bingley said and the two ladies left.
Bingley shook his head. “She grows more desperate, that is all, Darcy. They both do.”
Darcy shuddered. The attention of Caroline had been bad enough but Mr. Hurst died in London and now the sisters were engaged in a queer rivalry for Darcy’s notice.
“Please, will you tell me what Anne says?” Georgiana asked and laid a hand on his arm. “Is there news of Elizabeth? The baby should arrive soon.”
Darcy gently squeezed his sister’s hand. She had long ago surmised he was in love with Anne’s friend. Her eyes had become weak due to illness and so Darcy read letters to her. Georgiana said something about his tone of voice changed when Elizabeth was referenced.
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