“And when does that happen?” Charles repeated teasingly.
“After Richard gets back from his very belated honeymoon,” Will said, attacking his meal, then pausing to address Richard. “So don’t get any ideas about accidentally getting stuck somewhere tropical. I’m not buying any traffic delays, airline strikes, or natural disasters.”
“Where did you decide to go?” Oscar asked. “Last I heard you were thinking about Bermuda.”
“Tahiti,” Richard announced. “We’re going sky-diving in Bora Bora.”
“And shark diving,” Jane added. “You know, in the cages? Oh, and we’re taking a speed boat tour.”
“So, all this business about injuries,” began Oscar.
“Before the trip,” Jane interrupted, offering a smile that appeared placid and fooled no one. “On the trip, we’ll play it by ear.”
“No offense, honey,” Richard said fondly, “But I’m looking forward to the honeymoon more than I did the wedding. As far as I’m concerned, we were married the moment I asked and you said yes.”
The chatter went on for some time, but Elizabeth began to feel as though it was just buzzing in her ears. Her steak was half-eaten, but suddenly it didn’t look that good anymore. “I’m going to check on the baby,” she said.
“Yes, bring Mac down,” Richard told her. “I haven’t even gotten to hold her yet.”
“Stop calling her that,” Will replied, annoyed. “Her name is Madeline Anne.”
“Madeline Anne Catherine Darcy.” Richard shook his head. “If you saddle a kid with a name that long, there’s going to be a nickname. At least this way, the poor kid has a cool one before the rats at school have a crack at it.”
“I’ll see if she’s up,” Elizabeth broke in, trying to derail the usual argument, and everyone returned to their conversations. She wanted to get some water, but she only made it as far as the kitchen before things began to tilt. She gripped the edge of the island. The chairs had all been taken outside, so she took a deep breath and tried to wait it out.
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” she heard in her ear. She felt a strong arm wrapping around her waist. Will had followed her inside. Of course he did, she thought, grateful for once that her husband knew her so well. “You said you couldn’t play because of your knee—is it still bothering you?”
“I’m actually a bit dizzy,” she said softly. He helped her to the sofa and went to the refrigerator for water.
“Drink this,” he ordered, sitting down beside her. “You know, the flu’s going around even though it’s not the season. Do you think you might have it?”
She took a sip and carefully rested her head against the back of the couch. “You tell me, Will. My breasts hurt, I’m two weeks late, and now I’m dizzy. Is it the flu?”
He blinked. “Really? But we used . . .”
“You used,” she reminded him. “I’m still breast feeding a few times a day, so we decided I wouldn’t take pills.”
He blinked, then picked up the other argument. “But you’re breast feeding. . .”
She rolled her eyes. “I can pee on a stick for you if you need evidence, your honor,” she said, keeping her voice down, “but I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant again.”
Something flashed across his face. “Oh, that’s why you didn’t play . . . it wasn’t the knee.” He hugged her. “You disappeared this morning—were you sick?”
She frowned. “Yes,” she said into his shirt.
He pulled back to look her in the face. “Are you upset? I know you were planning to work more hours now that Madeline’s a year old.”
“No,” she sighed, “I’m not upset, I just wasn’t entirely sure until now. Witness will take me when they can get me, you know that. I work for free.”
“It’s just the tax thing,” Will began, but Elizabeth waved him off.
“I know,” she said, “and I’d rather Witness have my salary than Uncle Sam. I’m just saying . . .” Her stomach lurched. “Excuse me,” she said, stumbling to her feet and making a dash for the bathroom. She was on her knees, head in the toilet, when she heard him behind her. “Seriously?” she asked, irritated. “It’s not enough I have to deal with your Olympic swimmers? Do you have to follow me around, too?”
Will pressed the water bottle into her hand and shook his head, “You really aren’t good at being pregnant,” he told her, feigning sadness. “You get sarcastic and demanding, not at all like my sweet, compliant wife.” He crouched behind her.
Elizabeth rinsed out her mouth and relaxed back into his chest. “Shut up,” she said tiredly.
“See?” Will asked, stroking her hair. “Sarcastic.” He kissed her ear. “But you’re right about my swimmers.”
“Ego,” she snorted weakly.
“I got you to marry me,” he said, his voice husky, low, and in her ear. “There’s no bigger ego-builder than that.”
“How about this?” she asked, resigned. “You’re right. I’m going to need more help with Madeline. At least until you’re home.”
“Oh, this is a banner day for me,” he teased, but soon grew serious. “I’ll make some calls in the morning. You need to get to the OB, too.” He hesitated. “Are you okay to get up?”
Elizabeth paused to take stock and nodded. She pushed herself up from the floor. “I’m fine now, Will. Let me clean up, and we can go back to the table. I won’t keep us long, but I want to say goodbye.”
“Okay, love,” he said. “I’m excited,” he said, placing a warm hand on her stomach. “Are you excited?”
“Ask me again when I have the actual baby in my arms,” she said wearily. “I promise I’ll be excited then.”
Will’s enthusiasm paled a bit. “I’m sorry this is so hard on you,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth lifted a hand to his cheek. “I hate being sick, Will, but I love our family.” She gazed into his eyes and was positive she could never want anything more. Will, Maddy, this new life on the way. “I love you, Will.”
Will’s gaze warmed considerably as he kissed her hand and told her to remain downstairs. Elizabeth cleaned her teeth, then sat on the sofa sipping her water until he returned. When Will returned, her informed her that Madeline was still fast asleep. He took her hand, and they walked outside.
“I want to make a toast,” Ed announced, standing. Elizabeth leaned against Will, and he put an arm around her. “Does everyone have champagne?”
Will gazed down the table at their family. Kit had white grape juice. He could tell, because there were no bubbles. Lydia, on the other hand . . . He lifted one eyebrow, and her shoulders slumped. She set the glass aside and took another with juice. Always pushing, that one, he told himself, and then thought, as he often did, that if channeled properly the trait might serve her very well. Will noticed that Ed was watching Elizabeth, who was also drinking juice. Ed cast his eyes down to his shoes for a moment, but Will saw his delight.
“We are here to celebrate the upcoming wedding of Mary and Doug. They’ve waited a long time.” His lips twisted. “But I suppose that because it was my niece holding things up, I can’t take it out on you, Doug.”
Doug pushed his eyeglasses up, raised his glass, and gave Mary a crooked grin.
“Also,” he added, catching Jane’s eye, “we are here to wish the long-married couple a pleasant bon voyage. A honeymoon two years after the wedding is a record, I think.”
Richard shrugged and pointed at Jane. “Not my fault, Gunny. She wanted to make the helicopter team first.”
“Way to blame your wife, Richard,” Uncle Terry said with a laugh. “Very manly.”
Will couldn’t hold back any longer. As everyone else began to tease Richard, he brushed his lips against Elizabeth’s. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.
“My nieces,” Ed said, and stopped to clear his throat. Everyone returned their attention to the head of the table. “My nieces, one and all, have lived through some difficult times. But they, like my own beautiful bride, have persevered. The
y have each found their own way through disappointment and heartbreak and have come through their trials. Sometimes kicking and screaming,”—he smiled as a gentle wave of laughter crested over the table—“but always with strength and gratitude and purpose.”
He lifted his glass. “So, I ask you to raise your glasses.” Everyone stood and raised their plastic champagne flutes. “To obstinate, headstrong girls,” he proclaimed. “I can’t imagine loving any other kind.”
Excerpt from I Never Knew Myself
Excerpt from Melanie Rachel’s I Never Knew Myself
Coming in 2020
London, Spring 1788
Thomas Bennet slammed his mug down on the wooden tabletop. “No more, Collins,” he hissed. “You are deluded.” He shoved the ale aside—the drink was vile, the company worse. “I do not know why I even agreed to come. You wrote you wished to make amends for your father’s insults.” He shook his head, disgust written in his features. “An olive branch, you say. To tie my daughter to your son before she has even begun to learn her letters? We are not the royal family, sir, seeking a political alliance.” Especially not to a family such as yours.
“It is a rational plan, Bennet,” replied the man across from him, leaning back and folding his hands in his lap. Josiah Collins was tall and broad-shouldered. His body was built for a life of labor, yet he was a clergyman, in every way a tight-fisted, unrelenting disciplinarian bent on punishment rather than forgiveness. Despite all that Thomas knew of his cousin, the man was successful, being in possession of two fine livings in Kent. “A marriage contract makes everything easy. Your wife will never have a need to leave Longbourn.”
A cold shiver ran up his spine. “Fanny is young,” he responded warily. “We have a great deal of time. And should something happen to me, you should recall I have a brother.” He stood. “We will have a son, or James and his family will inherit, and then all connection to you will be severed for good.”
“Your brother is unmarried and stationed in India, a risky prospect at best.” Collins stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Your wife is expecting, but she may have another girl.” His voice was a smooth as fine brandy. “For the right price, I might be convinced to sell my place in the entail.”
Thomas placed his hat on his head. He did not wish to consider how his cousin knew Fanny was with child. Her condition was no secret in Meryton, which was why he had arranged to meet his cousin in London. “You are not even the heir presumptive, Collins. You have no standing. There is no need to pay you anything.” He paused and then added, with just a touch of bitterness, “More importantly, I must believe that the good Lord cannot mean for a man such as you ever to be master of Longbourn.” He bowed his head slightly. “Good day, sir, and goodbye.”
A fortnight later, Frances Gardiner Bennet lost the child she carried when an illness struck down the entire household. As a result of the violent stomach ailment, the heir to Longbourn was born much too early. To heap misery upon misery, their daughter was lost as well.
He could never prove it, but Thomas was sure that somehow his cousin Collins was to blame.
Oakleigh Manor, Summer 1796
Maria Windham shook her head at her husband’s exasperation. “Where is the harm, dearest?” she asked. “We are at our own home.” She stood and took her husband’s warm hand. “She has been waiting more than a year to wear it and she was very excited to show it to Richard and Malcolm.”
Daniel Windham pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Elizabeth already has too much freedom, Maria. Really, what will you say when she wishes to attend Eton with her brother? We cannot allow her to parade around the grounds like a boy.”
“Oh Daniel,” Maria replied, waving her hand in the air. “Do not fuss. She is four and, may I remind you, has learnt her stubbornness from her Papa. If you forbid her to wear it, you will have a battle. If you say nothing, she will change her clothes without coercion and, I daresay, will do so in less than an hour.”
There was a chorus of young voices in the entryway, and Windham followed the noise to the door of the drawing room. His wife’s Fitzwilliam cousins were visiting along with their cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy, whose mother had recently entered her confinement. They were all making ready to head out of doors. There was a great divide in age between the visitors and his children, but his nephew Malcolm, the future earl and the eldest at eighteen, did not see it as beneath his dignity to take his young cousins out to play. In fact, all three boys seemed to enjoy entertaining the lively Windham brood.
In the middle of all the excitement was his four-year-old sprite of a daughter, hopping up and down, dressed in an old, cut-down livery. It was a dark red with yellow piping and tiny tan breeches. He had never cared for the red and had replaced the livery when he married. The old material had largely been put to other purposes, but Robert had rescued this one from a rag bag somewhere. He had begged to have it as an army uniform and Maria had herself cut it down for him. His daughter was now preening in it as though it was a ballgown. He shook his head at her. Breeches. “Good day, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, sweeping her up into his arms, “or shall we call you Master Eli instead?”
Elizabeth scowled, her face like a black cloud. “Ellie is my name, Papa. I am Ellie.”
“Very well, my girl,” Windham said, placing a quick kiss on his daughter’s forehead. He gazed at her little face, a tiny copy of her mother’s. Large dark eyes with long black eyelashes, a small pouty mouth, cherry red lips, a delicate little nose, long dark curls. He sighed, knowing it was hopeless. He could deny her nothing.
“Welcome home, Papa,” she said sweetly, with a little lisp. “Do you see my cats?” She pulled at a silver button decorated with a lion’s head and patted the jacket proudly. “Robbie gived it to me.”
“I am too big for it now, Papa,” Robert said, his eyes dark and solemn. “I said Ellie could wear it.”
Windham set his daughter down on the floor, catching, as he did so, the grins on the older boys’ faces. He frowned and silently wished them luck with their own children when they were grown.
“Get on outside, then,” he said gruffly. “And mind your cousins.”
“Yes, Papa!” his son and daughter squealed. Robert took Elizabeth’s hand, and they dashed out the front door ahead of everyone else. Malcolm picked up little John and they all proceeded outside, Richard and William carrying a few shuttlecocks and racquets, the children’s nurse trailing behind at a discreet distance.
“What a troupe,” Windham said fondly. He informed his wife that he would head upstairs to refresh himself after the long carriage ride. His negotiations in London had not gone well.
His wife examined him for a moment. “Are you upset, Daniel?” she asked.
He sighed. “No, Maria, I am not. In fact,” he told her with a wry smile, “I am a very happy man.”
“Fitzy, make me a crown,” Elizabeth commanded, and Richard laughed.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he replied drolly and offered his little cousin a deep bow. She giggled and clapped her hands. “However,” he told her, “you must pick the flowers, for I do not know which ones you prefer.”
This sent Elizabeth on a chase through the woodland that bordered the lawn on one side of the house. She darted in and out of the trees, returning to him to drop flowers in a haphazard little pile.
“This is a weed, Ellie,” Richard called as she disappeared again, rolling a long green stem with small yellow flowers between his fingers. She did not respond, and he walked into the trees to find her.
“More flowers?” Elizabeth asked as she pushed an armful of wildflowers into his hands, some with roots trailing soil. He laughed and held out his hand.
“All right, we have enough. Come with me.”
She skipped next to him until they were out onto the lawn, where she sat expectantly, singing softly to herself. Nearby, the other boys were playing shuttlecock. Every so often, one of them would hit it to Robert, who would swing wildly and sometimes connect.
Eventually, William walked over, Robert trailing behind him. “What is taking you so long, Richard?” he asked, grinning. “Flower crowns more difficult than you anticipated?”
Richard was nearly finished, his fingers fumbling with the delicate stems. “Anne taught me how to make these at Easter,” he said, his eyes on his work. “I promised Ellie I would make her one, but I should have practiced more.”
“Fitzy promised,” Elizabeth said with a nod of her head.
“That was very sweet of you, Fitzy,” called Malcolm with a laugh. “A sweet name for a sweet boy.”
“No! You do not call him that!” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at her older cousin.
“Am I not allowed?” Malcolm asked, a warm smile lighting up his face.
“No,” Elizabeth told him bluntly. “Only me. Or Fitzy will punch you. Right, Fitzy?”
“I am not afraid of him, Ellie,” Malcolm said, still smiling.
“You be afraid,” she insisted, balling up her hands and placing them on her hips.
Richard’s eyes met his brother’s, flower crown still in his hands. “You might win that fight, Mal,” he said calmly, “but you would know you had been in one. Leave off. You appear stupid, baiting a little girl.”
“My apologies, Miss Windham,” Malcolm told her and made her a grand bow.
Ellie smiled brightly, and, tipping her head to one side, chirped, “I forgive you.”
“There!” Richard exclaimed. “Shall I put it in your hair, Princess?”
Elizabeth nodded several times. When she stilled, Richard placed a flimsy but colorful ring of flowers on her head.
“Well done, Princess Ellie,” William told her. He turned to Robert. “Your sister is the very first princess ever to wear livery.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Robbie said I could.” Her brother nodded his support.
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