by C. J. Hill
William picked up the baby who had just awoken and, cradling him in his arms, he looked at Charlotte questioningly.
“Lady Catherine made a most prudent point; we must decide a name soon for the child, Charlotte. He should be baptised before much longer, certainly before you return to Hunsford and while I am still here. Do you feel able to attend church soon, my dear?”
Charlotte smiled.
“That is what I think should happen, and if you are to return this week we must christen him within the next few days. I certainly feel well enough for such an outing which will not be overly long or arduous for me. What name have you thought of to give the child? Perhaps something in memory of your father?”
William started at this and looked quickly at his son happily waving his fists above his wrapper.
“No, my dear, I think not. This child should have his own name and one of which he can be proud, not that of someone to whom he will bear no resemblance. I would like you to choose, if you please. I am sure that whatever it is will be chosen with great thought and in consideration of the child’s best interests.”
Charlotte was not surprised that her offer had been rejected but was very surprised and touched that she had been given the responsibility of choosing the name alone. She held out her arms for the child and gazed down at him as she thought of suitable names.
“What would you say to ‘William’?” she asked quietly. “ ‘William’ for you and for my father; men he will be able to look up to and be proud of as his namesakes, and perhaps ‘Lewis’ as a middle name in honour of Lady Catherine. How does that sound, my dear?”
She did not need an answer; one look at her husband reflected all that he felt at her suggestion, and knew that no other ideas for a name were going to be necessary.
And so it was that William the younger was christened later that week in the font of Meryton Church, as William the elder and William the eldest looked on with extreme pride, both privately considering how they would protect and provide for this young child’s future.
William the elder left a few days later to return to his duties at Hunsford and was a diligent letter writer over the few weeks that separated him from his family; his church duties, however, filled his days and many of his evenings were spent in the company of Lady Catherine and Anne who were both delighted to, once again, have someone who could, and would, discourse upon any subject at length and with great opinion and authority after their silence of the previous month.
William the younger returned in the New Year on a sunny Winter’s day causing great excitement throughout both villages of Meryton and Hunsford as they passed by in the Barouche box along with the required servants and preferential treatment all that entailed. Charlotte was very grateful for the consideration of her benefactress and appreciated the extreme comfort she was afforded for the long drive home with her son.
Lady Catherine thoroughly approved the names chosen for their son; not too high and not too common was her considered opinion, and set about ensuring that his every comfort was attended to. Anne was very attentive also, spending almost as much time at the Parsonage as at Rosings Park, watching her friend mature into motherhood and hoping that, one day, she too would enjoy a similar position with a marriage partner of her own choosing.
Letters of congratulations had, of course, flooded the Parsonage and Charlotte was hard pressed to respond to them all in a timely fashion; one correspondent to whom she always responded with alacrity, however, was a certain Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley and with whom she maintained an even closer bond now they were both married women. Nothing was more delightful to them both than to share their lives and experiences, and when they could manage to visit, as was the case several times in the year, their intimacy only increased.
Charlotte was the most delighted of all when tensions between her friend and Lady Catherine relaxed, in part she was sure, due to Eliza’s influence over her husband’s taciturn and unforgiving nature. When her ladyship finally announced her intention of visiting Pemberley, Charlotte hoped that her friend had won the battle over the prejudice held against her.
William continued to find his degree of attachment to both great houses of de Bourgh and Darcy to be extremely satisfactory and beyond his wildest expectations; his self-importance rose with every consideration afforded him or his wife by either Mrs. Darcy or Lady Catherine. How pleasant to have such superior connections! He considered himself the happiest of men.
And so it would seem that a young woman in possession of a sensible nature but limited fortune, embarking upon a prudential marriage for practical purposes, rather than insisting upon instant mutual attraction, love, and respect, can, with careful management and understanding, turn the former into the latter, with some modifications.
Charlotte, as she reflected upon her life, found herself quite content with her happy situation.
Acknowledgments:
While this work is entirely of the author’s imagination, she would like to acknowledge the following as some of the excerpts from Pride and Prejudice. They were necessary to authenticate the scenes in which they appear in both books.
Ch. III “My overhearings were more to the purpose....”
Ch. IV “shew more affection than she feels...”“What does Mr. Darcy mean by listening...”
Ch. V “I dare say you will find him very agreeable...”
Ch.VI “I am glad you are come...”“My dear madam, let us be forever silent....”
Ch. XI “Do you think it incredible....”, “I see what you are feeling...”
Ch. XIV “I shall depend on hearing from you...”
Ch. XXI “What is it that you are saying...”
Ch. XXIII “What can be the meaning of...”, “You must write to your mother...”, “her home and her housekeeping...”
Grateful thanks also go to my primary proofreaders, Elyse Hill and Leigh Meggison, whose detailed and thoughtful suggestions were warmly appreciated.
Catherine Hill is a high school English teacher and great admirer of Jane Austen’s wit and social commentary. She has lived in England and Northern California, and now resides in New Zealand. Further information about the author can be found on:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/C.-J.-Hill
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/CJ-Hill
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/CJHill
Her second novel, Wickham’s Wife, explores the mystery surrounding George Wickham both before and after he appears in Pride and Prejudice. The opening chapter is included here for your enjoyment. Please find the book in its entirety on Amazon.
Prologue
"Stay here!" commanded Wickham as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of a nondescript front door in a street of similar doors. "Do not allow anyone to see your face. I must see what can be done. Be patient."
He leapt from the cab and disappeared for a moment into the inky blackness of a London street meagrely lit by the occasional lamp, reappearing at the top of a short flight of steps. She watched as he rapped impatiently on the door with his cane.
A maid answered, pulling her cap into place as though called from her evening's activities, and, after a short interaction, Wickham was left to wait upon the step staring at the closed door. He turned to look back at the cab and saw to his horror that she was clambering down, clutching her hat against the gusty wind.
"Get back in the cab, this instant! I said to wait there for me."
"Oh, la! What nonsense, Wickham! No one knows me here. It is too lonely waiting by myself. But why have not you been invited inside? I thought you were friends with the owner?"
"Perhaps the fact that we are calling far outside usual visiting hours may be of concern, do not you think? It is nearly eleven o'clock; people do not willingly open their doors to knocks so late in the evening. I was lucky mine was not ignored. Now go back to the cab, I will deal with this."
"I shall not! I shall stay here and meet your friend. I do hope he has room for us; I do not think I could e
ndure any more travelling tonight." She slid her hand under his elbow and leaned her head limply against his arm. “I am entirely worn out!”
The door was again opened partway and a lady looked around it; an elegant, handsome lady wrapped in a shawl and carrying a lamp which she held up, gasping when she saw Wickham.
"George! It is indeed you! What in the world do you do here, and at this time of night?"
Her face fell.
"Whatever it is, it cannot be good - very rarely of late have you arrived on my doorstep with good news - but come in and warm yourself."
Her gaze then fell upon his companion who had pushed her way into the hallway in front of Wickham, unnoticed until now in the shock at seeing Wickham.
"Good evening?" she queried as she looked from the girl to Wickham for an explanation.
"Oh! Good evening," the girl giggled. "I was not expecting Wickham's friend to be a woman! How interesting! I am Lydia Bennet, soon to be Lydia Wickham - is not that a great surprise? Wickham says we will be married very soon, is that not so, my dear?"
Wickham, seeing the reaction upon the lady’s face, hastened to intervene, colour flooding his own.
"Mrs. Younge: Allow me to introduce Miss Lydia Bennet … of Longbourn … in Meryton. Miss Bennet: This is a very great friend of mine, Mrs. Julia Younge, who has been the one person in my life upon whom I have known I could always depend and trust."
"Well," Mrs. Younge managed a very thin smile. "To be married at last, George. This is most unexpected, as you say. Quite a surprise for everyone concerned, indeed. What good fortune to have secured a beautiful young bride. But why are not you married already, pray? Travelling together as you are, and at this time of night, can only cast doubt upon the young lady's reputation, surely even you can see that? It is most inappropriate."
"Mrs. Younge; Julia! My dear! Please! I know that this looks very damning to you; I will explain, but I cannot at this moment. At this moment I must fall once again upon your mercy and good nature and beg you to offer Miss Bennet a bed for the next few nights whilst I sort out what is to be done."
Mrs. Younge looked astonished and then shocked at Wickham; he had the grace to redden again, unable to meet her gaze. She moved across the passage and opened the door closest to her.
"Come with me into the guest parlour; this must be discussed away from the prying ears of my guests and servants,” she hissed as she ushered them through in hurried secrecy before closing it firmly behind her.