Now Fanny was silent, as if she suddenly remembered something thoroughly unpleasant.
'Speaking of gossip, ma'am, I feel I should tell you. There is some rumour going around that you have been blessed. You know, that you may be with child. I suppose it's the seamstress not realising that anything she says about you is of interest since you made the papers so often. And now word is that you gained weight where it matters.'
Fanny was very embarrassed, but she did tell her mistress what she'd heard.
'Well, you know as well as I do that I did indeed gain a little weight,'
Elizabeth replied playfully. She'd hoped to have left the newspapers behind but certainly Fanny couldn't help that.
'I did notice, ma'am, when you got dressed before the wedding. Your corset was a bit tight, but the dress was a ready-made and it just adapts. But I didn't tell anyone, ma'am.'
'I know, Fanny, and I'm glad you told me someone else did. I don't mind people gossiping, well, expect when it's nasty gossip, of course, but if I'd heard people talking about me I would have felt bad. Now I know what to expect. And the truth is, I don't know, Fanny. I may have eaten too much in London, or I may indeed be with child, it is to be expected.'
Now Fanny looked positively sly.
'You know my mother's midwife, the one who examined Mrs Collins that time at your house?'
Elizabeth could not believe what Fanny was going to say but nodded.
'She told me how not to conceive too quickly. I want a child, but not yet. I could tell you as well, ma'am, of course it is a sin, but we'll just have to take that risk, won't we? Bob and I cannot afford to have a baby while travelling from one house to another, I'd lose my position and he'd be away from me half the year.'
Fanny? Righteous Fanny?
'Thank you so much, Fanny. We don't need it now, but I'd like to hear about it in the future, we do not want five children like my parents, I'm from a very prolific family, like you. I appreciate your offer very much, Fanny. And please don't worry too much, if it does happen to you we will find a solution.'
'Thank you, ma'am, she did warn me it didn't always work but my mother always conceived so quickly I’m willing to try anything to lead my own life a little longer. Mother refused to hear the midwife though she certainly doesn’t lack children, but I'm not going to slave away my best years for a sixth and seventh baby. I've raised enough siblings for now.
Ma'am, should I tell Mrs Fielding? She's so young, and about to go to Vienna.'
Well, maybe a midwife had a better option than Nick, it wouldn't hurt to hear.
'Yes, please, Fanny. She is very young and still so busy working on improving her playing.'
Fanny merely nodded, it would be very embarrassing but she would do it.
When the long-awaited letter from uncle Spencer arrived, Darcy didn't even dream of reading it all by himself. He did consider having Elizabeth read it to him in their bedroom or in the confidence room on the first floor before letting Georgie see it, for he dreaded the contents of that letter and he didn't want his baby-sister to witness his reaction. She'd always admired him, and he just didn't want to take the chance of disappointing her.
But Elizabeth would never agree to not having Georgiana present at the first reading, mostly because Darcy wasn't ready to admit the real reason of his reluctance even to Elizabeth. The only excuse he could think of, wanting to protect his little sister from the letter's impact, was worthless and he knew it.
Elizabeth would just say that Georgie had the right to the information as much as he did, that she was an adult now and perfectly able to handle a little unwelcome news. And Darcy knew that, as much as he knew that he had the right to be merely human and feel hurt by their father's betrayal of their mother.
So he sighed deeply and took the letter, unopened, to the drawing-room, where he was certain he'd find Georgie and Fielding at the Clementi, now the main piano for their amusement and finally in the perfect tune it deserved.
Elizabeth would probably be doing some needlework with Anne, they were each working on a tiny dress, Anne for their cousin Spencer's son, and Elizabeth for an as yet unknown baby, maybe Jane's, maybe Lydia's. Maybe her own? She seemed different these last weeks, calmer and almost dreamy sometimes, although she still loved to push herself riding and shooting, and her wit certainly hadn't suffered. She had gained a little weight as well, making her even more attractive, and come to think of it, she had been as eager as ever when they were in their bedroom by themselves, her fuller breasts released from the corset she usually wore under her chemise.
But, all that might be due to their long stay in town and the constant scrutiny they had been under, his beloved thrived under an almost regimental amount of exercise, which had been severely curtailed by the confines of a large city and the unwanted attention from the reporters keeping an eye on their house.
If she had merely gained weight due to their stay in town she should start losing it quickly for they were back to their honeymoon habits, riding in the mornings and shooting, fishing or rambling in the afternoons, with some intimate but reasonably tiring activities in between. How she even found the time to embroider a tiny dress was a miracle in itself.
As he entered the drawing-room the sound of the piano proved Georgie and
Fielding at least were where they should be. A look towards the seating area nearest the window confirmed Anne's and Elizabeth's presence, and Manners was sitting with them. The ladies were perfectly able to talk and work at the same time.
Elizabeth looked up, caught his eye, and her expression softened until his heart was in his throat with such an unthinking testimony of her love for him.
He could barely remember the heartbreak he'd once felt over her, she had made him so incredibly happy that even those agonizing months were just a vague memory, as if they had been years ago instead of a little less than one year.
He just had to go straight towards her and kiss her, his feelings would not allow otherwise.
That done, he showed her the letter, and immediately noticed her expression changing to worry.
'Are you up to this, my love?'
'I am. I want to know the truth, and I cannot say I care very much about what it turns out to be. If Wickham is my brother by my father's blood you can stop feeling guilty about your sister's marriage connecting him to me. Remember, all uncle Spencer did for his younger son was support Fitzwilliam into the army, which is what I have been doing for George, after having given him a chance to study the law, and my father offering him the living if he took orders. He has had more chances than most second sons, and made a lot less of himself.'
The music had stopped and Georgie called out, 'Is that uncle Spencer's reply to your inquiry, Fitzwilliam? Let's hear it.'
What, right here? Well, why not, uncle Spencer was Anne's uncle, too, and Frederick already knew about Wickham's possible parentage. It would be rude to leave them behind for something that wasn't a secret anyway. But he handed Elizabeth the letter, she would have to read it, which she did in a clear voice, free of emotion.
Dear nephew,
I have been expecting this enquiry into your mother's personal effects for some time now, but I have to admit I was surprised to receive such a request from you. After having shared my suspicions about your late father's conduct and Lieutenant Wickham's parentage with your beloved wife, I was convinced she shared my opinion that those suspicions should be kept between us until
there was proof to substantiate them. On the other hand, I always shared everything with my dear Alice and I know she would have been hurt had I kept such possibly devastating knowledge from her, and I respect my niece-by-marriage's decision to enlist your aid in finding out the truth.
After receiving your letter I immediately searched my dear late sister's room, which we have never changed since her passing, and though I found a lot of painful but fond memories of the time when she and Alice were both still alive and well, I did not find any letters from Richard Darcy to Mrs
Victoria Wickham.
I did find a letter that suggested my dear sister Anne was aware of their existence, and a hint of who may still have in her possession those missing letters you mentioned, though neither you nor Mrs Darcy will be pleased to find out where more information on this subject is to be had. I have made my own copy of the letter and included the original in this envelope, so you may read it for yourselves. If you draw the same conclusions I do, please let me know whether you will pursue this line of enquiry, or whether you prefer to let the past stay in the past: nothing will change after all by proving or disproving our theory.
I leave the decision up to you both, and just want to tell you how much I am looking forward to my visit in April, to spend a little more time with Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner, both of whom I liked tremendously when we first met on dear Georgiana's birthday.
Spencer sends his love and so does Penny, Alexander Spencer is growing like a weed and generally a very good boy, he sleeps well and eats better. They loved the little dress you and Mrs Darcy sent for Alexander, and could not believe at first that she had made it all herself, especially the exquisite embroidery.
With respect and affection,
Spencer Compton
Elizabeth stared at him in abhorrence and Georgie cried out, 'Aunt Catherine, no! Now we'll never know!'
'Better read that, too, my love,' was all he managed to say. He did not want to beg his aunt Catherine for anything, not after the things she'd said about Elizabeth.
Elizabeth merely removed another sheet of paper from the envelope,
unfolded it and started to read.
My dearest Anne,
I truly don't understand why you don't want to come to me at Rosings to see those letters you suspected Darcy to have written to Victoria Wickham. I realise now you only wrote to me to vent your feelings just after you found out about the two of them, from Victoria herself of all people! But I am your sister and I love you, and Richard Darcy is breaking you, slowly but surely.
Please believe me when I tell you that I was very sorry to find your fears of his deceit totally grounded. I thought you wanted me to take action, to prove their shameful behaviour and help you escape your deplorable situation. You know you will always have a home with Sir Lewis and myself, Darcy cannot take Pemberley away from little Fitzwilliam, no matter what happens he is his eldest son and his legitimate heir, no need to endure further humiliations to secure your boy's future. I just want you to be happy, dear Anne.
Had I known your feelings I would not have sent Hughes on his mission to the Pemberley guard house to retrieve a few incriminating letters, but it was done and done for the best. There is nothing I can do to undo that. Will you not come and live with me, you and your children? Anne would be so pleased to have Fitzwilliam close, even if it's just in the holidays. And I'm certain I could be of help with little Georgiana, I know a great governess who would take most of the strain from you, so you could regain some strength and finally enjoy your little girl.
Don't you see how cruel Darcy is, to have that woman taking care of you whilst conducting an affair with her? You say she even visits him in London, can we not put a stop to that at the very least, if you insist on staying with him? Force him to find another steward and get rid of that whole family? You say that you'd rather have him see someone you know and trust to keep quiet, but how do you know that he doesn't see other women as well? He is away in London for half the year, for all you know he has one or two mistresses out there as well.
Please reconsider and come to Rosings, at least to see for yourself what else he admits to in those letters, you'll be pleased to never see him again. Please, Anne, I only want what is best for you and your children. What if Fitzwilliam finds out? He is already seventeen and very smart for his age. You don't want him to find out what his father is really like, do you? He has enough on his
mind with that George Wickham taking up most of his father's time. I can keep an eye on your boy while he is in London, but there is only so much an aunt can do, a boy needs his father. Please let me send Hughes to London as well, to discover what Darcy is up to there, maybe we can use it to at least force him to respect you and your children a little more.
I love you, Anne, please let me help you.
Yours for ever, Catherine.
They were all silent. Darcy had not realised how much aunt Catherine had loved her sister, had not realised his aunt could love so deeply as this hastily written letter proved.
'Maybe we should visit your mother one of these days, Anne.'
As usual, Manners was the first to recover.
'Or I could write, in a way it's my duty to spend some time on my mother-in-law. I never had a sibling, but to love someone like that and see her duped, and not be able to do anything about it.'
Anne shook her head and replied, 'I'm not ready, Frederick. She could have loved me, too, but she never did. Instead she almost killed me trying to improve me. I do feel sorry for her, and I won't mind if you write, but I am not going to visit her until she admits she did wrong.'
'I understand. I'll see if I can write her then.'
'I feel almost as bad as when I read your letter, Fitzwilliam,' Elizabeth observed. 'I felt I had been so blind and prejudiced then and I do now, to have taken such a dislike to her when she lost someone so dear to her.'
'That was almost ten years ago, Elizabeth!' Georgie now retorted, 'Anne is right, aunt Catherine chose to live in the past and claim Fitzwilliam, instead of helping her very own daughter. The care she offered to give me was to hand me over to a governess so she could have her sister to herself.
Fitzwilliam deserved what he got from you, and you never did anything to aunt Catherine for her to treat you like dirt. Look at what you did for me, I'm a different person altogether! And you certainly made my brother the happiest man in the country.'
'And I'll never forget how you accepted me without hesitation, Elizabeth. My mother is exactly what she seems, a spoiled, arrogant, good-for-nothing busybody, and she has treated you abominably. Maybe you can write to Hughes to get hold of those letters for you.'
That sounded like a good idea, but in a way Elizabeth was right, and aunt Catherine had in fact always treated Darcy with kindness and even respect.
She had never ordered him about, and had valued his opinion even when his father had still been alive and Darcy had admired and loved him above anyone else. She had never given so much as a hint to him that she disliked his father, never forcing Darcy to choose between his parents, never smudging his father's memory. Darcy had ever been his aunt's favourite, and while she had never influenced him for the good, if she had done her best for anyone, however unasked for, it had been for Darcy.
Until he went against her wishes, that was true, but still she had been a steady presence in his life.
'I will not force a good man to do anything underhanded. I will write to her myself. Though you are both right, Anne and Georgie, she spent time on me for selfish purposes, but she did spend that time on me and she left me my illusions over my father's worth as a husband and parent. I am not looking forward to dealing with her but I want to know the truth, and that means asking her to release those letters to us.'
Then he took Elizabeth's hand and said with feeling, 'Georgie is right, my love, I did deserve your reproofs, and they forced me to improve myself, and then you made me the happiest man in the world. Please don't feel bad about disliking aunt Catherine, you did nothing wrong there either.'
There was no hurry, though, he would allow himself to spend quite a lot of time on deciding what to write to his aunt. He was not going to humble himself towards her, but of course they wanted something from her, so he would have to be polite. Maybe he could work on her common sense, Darcy had always shown her the respect she was due as his aunt and she had always been rather attached to him, though in her usual condescending way. Come to think of it, she hadn't been quite as condescending to him as she had been to other people, even Anne. And Elizabeth still d
idn't seem to hold a grudge against aunt Catherine, despite having plenty of reason to do so.
'Whatever you decide to do, Fitzwilliam, I will be right behind you. I don't care for your aunt, and I think she has treated both Anne and Mr Collins atrociously, but she always spoke of you with great affection and respect. If anyone can convince her to let the truth come out after all these years, it must be you.'
Anne's gentle voice observed, 'She hasn't been all that kind towards you either, Elizabeth. Somehow you still seem to feel you have no right to
courtesy from my mother because you are below Darcy, somehow you agree with her. But it's not true, you know. No-one could have made him as happy as you have, he waited for you, and if you had rejected him again his heart would have been broken for ever. You are good enough for him, and you are better than my mother, despite her being richer. More people love you, and not just that, more people respect you. You were right to address her as you did at the parsonage, do not be mistaken about that.'
And everyone present agreed, of course Fielding adored her no matter what, he didn't know aunt Catherine and therefore had no clear opinion on her, but Darcy could see Georgie nodding, and Manners, though the latter didn't actually know aunt Catherine either. But they all knew Elizabeth and loved her nearly as much as Darcy did, she had been of importance to every single one of them, and a lot more people besides. His aunt would have to accept Elizabeth and promise to treat her with respect, if not kindly. She would never like Elizabeth, his beloved was too frank and too independent for aunt Catherine to appreciate, his aunt preferred obeisance to intelligence and wit, but she would have to accept Darcy's love for Elizabeth and pay Mrs Darcy every civility she was due if they were to ever restore the connection. And yet, they were the supplicants here...
'Thank you all for your trust in me, I do appreciate it,' Elizabeth now said.
'Though I still don't care very much what Lady Catherine thinks of me, I would indeed prefer to be on reasonable terms with her. So let's write her then, my love, and see what she has to say.'
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