by Iris Lim
“But Caroline said –”
“Please, Jane.” I gathered her face in my hands. I smoothed her brow with my thumb. “My sisters shall fare well. Do not worry.”
She returned my gaze with a sadness in her eyes.
“You were the bravest of them all, Jane – bearing the cold and the solitude when I fled.” I kissed her softly. “Do not fret. All will be well.”
• • •
“Oh, Papa, how I shall miss you.”
I watched Elizabeth embrace her father, my own heart tight.
I had mourned, for many years, the fact that my own father and mother would never witness my marriage – would never meet the woman to love their son and to bear their grandchildren. Knowing that Elizabeth was that woman only fueled the sorrow more.
“He looks taken enough with you that I may yield you begrudgingly, dear.” Mr. Bennet was rather eloquent today. Still, his eyes clearly glistened. “I shall visit you quite often enough that you cease to invite me.”
“Oh, Papa, if only you would!” She cried as well, her arms resting on her father’s. “Oh, Papa, it has been too fast, too short.”
“Yes, it has.” He patted the side of her head. Mixed emotions rose within me. “But he seems to love you – and I take comfort in that.”
Elizabeth nodded mutely. My own emotions threatened to ruin my serenity.
“The briefness of your acquaintance may be at the forefront of many minds – but I trust your hearts are fully engaged despite the brevity of it all.” My new father looked directly at his daughter – and then at me. “I choose to trust in the odds of your happiness.”
“As well you should, sir.” I stepped forward then, anxious to be included in their familial exchange. “I swear, on my very life, that nothing but the highest happiness of your daughter shall direct my choices hence forth and forever.”
He seemed to smile, to appear almost bemused. “Of course – son.”
The single word and its power drew true tears from my eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Bennet. Your trust is wholly treasured and revered. I cannot –”
“Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth hugged me, and I gladly hugged her back.
The display of affection, thank God, did not seem to bother her father.
I held her tightly, near and dear to my heart. My tears subsided with her comforting proximity.
“I shall seek your counsel, sir, as often as you would allow,” I addressed her father, though my arms still held her. “No creature knows the source of Elizabeth’s moods more than you would.”
Mr. Bennet laughed, eyes as mischievous as his daughter’s tended to be. “We shall see how you fare, son – and then we may discuss how to handle her right.”
Chapter Ten
Twelve Months Later
The floor felt solid despite the additional weight I carried, but Charles assisted me rapidly to the nearest chair as he was wont to do. The furnishing was inevitably sparse. Until the items we’d ordered arrived, our hopes and dreams would have to fill the many halls and rooms instead.
“Do you like it, Jane?” My husband was as solicitous as ever.
I smiled, glad and not nearly as overwhelmed as I had feared. “It is wonderful, Charles. You have chosen well.”
He looked bashful at the compliment.
I did love him so.
“Darcy did most of the assessing, of course,” Charles muttered, ever modest. I gestured for him to occupy the couch beside me. It was growing more difficult to strain my neck – or to strain anything at all – with every day closer to my confinement. “I am merely happy that the estate was put up for sale at all. The family used to utilize it frequently.”
“It must be Providence.”
“Yes.” Charles smiled, boyish despite the pressures of the past months. Caroline had not been happy to be installed by herself in the North. “I am most grateful, Jane. A wife, a child to come, and an estate in gorgeous Derbyshire – what more could I want?”
I smiled back, warm and beloved. “The passage was not too difficult.”
“Only because you are strong.” He encased my hands in his. “A lesser woman would not have braved the journey with such gusto.”
“I am not overly far along.”
“But our child is strong – as you are.” His palm smoothed over my belly. The gesture filled me with bliss, as it did every time.
“Beechbury Grove is let at last!” A loud, happy female voice echoed from the entrance. I lifted my eyes to greet Elizabeth’s smile. She ran over, joy in her step. “I simply knew you would choose Derbyshire in the end.”
My sister stooped beside me to greet the child I carried. I laughed as she pretended to speak to it through my skin.
“Darcy – what a pleasure. Thank you.” My husband greeted hers with perfect male politeness. I smiled at the picture the four of us painted.
“Is the place much to your liking, Mrs. Bingley?” Elizabeth’s husband was just as polite to me.
“Very much so. Thank you for assisting us in the process.” I smiled, feeling every drop of gratefulness I professed.
“It was my pleasure,” he assured. “And my wife’s, I am sure.”
Elizabeth giggled, youthful as ever, and skipped back to her husband’s side before hugging him closely.
Charles and I both smiled.
“Have all entrances been secured?” This master of Pemberley, unannounced and casual, was a very different person from the Mr. Darcy who had scowled in Meryton a year ago. “I know you worry.”
“How could I not, Darce?” Charles lamented. Worry sprung anew all over his face. “If it were just Jane and I – then perhaps I may rest easy. Knowing that she is increasing and unable to flee – I cannot bear if we were called to face what we had faced before.”
“George Wickham has been apprehended and adequately punished. There is no cause for alarm.”
“Oh, but what if there was! Is Derbyshire safe?”
Lizzy, with her smile and her stride, was everything reassuring. “Brother dear, you have scaled a home before. Surely, you have no reason to fear you would not be able to scale this one?”
• • •
“Oh, I do hope they are happy with it.” I leaned back against the back of the chaise. It was my favorite spot of the room – just close and far enough from the fireplace. “I cannot forgive myself if my selfishness in wishing they settle close to Pemberley were to lead them to a place they don’t truly desire.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Bingley looked happy enough,” my husband assured me.
He was handsome in everything, I had come to find – in evening coats and riding wear, in shirt sleeves or in nothing at all.
I bit my lip, feeling sly. “And are you happy, sir?”
“Happy? Why ever should I not be?” He pulled my hand towards him and kissed it. “I am married to the bravest, handsomest, smartest woman in all of England. There truly is no reason for discontent.”
“And what of children?” I half teased, half tested. I rejoiced for Jane and Bingley – truly I did. Seeing her expecting her child so soon, however, had stirred emotions in me that I disliked.
“We shall have them in due time.” Fitzwilliam was certain.
I sat up and leaned against him. “I had hoped, by now, that the echoes of our child’s laughter would fill the halls of Pemberley. Even Georgiana said –”
“Lizzy, do not worry.” He kissed my cheek, and then my brow. “Not all good things come quickly.”
“But my mother –”
“My own father and mother waited years before I arrived – and another many years before Georgiana did. I would not worry.”
I lifted my head until I met his eyes. The honesty in them was entirely unaffected. “It comes so easy to many.”
“But it is no punishment that it comes harder to us.”
“Is life not meant to be happy?” I was slightly petulant today – childish, even.
My husband held me close nonetheless. “My life
is happy, Lizzy. I have Georgiana. I have Pemberley. I have you. There is little else in the universe that could make me happier.”
“Not even an heir?”
“Having a son would bring us both joy, I believe.” He counseled me gently, his hands threading through my fast-unraveling hair. “But there is no guilt in waiting. God knows we’ve waited little in everything else.”
I giggled then, slightly cheered. “Our engagement was not long – I know.”
“And I thank God every day that it was not.”
I laughed when the shadows of his oncoming beard tickled my jaw.
“There is no shame, Elizabeth, in working slightly harder for what we desire.” I sat completely on his lap now, where I’d always belonged.
“I suppose one could say so.” I kissed his cheek. The same shadows tickled my lips. “Except, I think, the process could hardly be called hard work.”
I squealed when he lifted me without another word – and I laughed when he transported us forthwith towards the master suite. The servants scrambled away, as they knew they ought to do. The wounds of the past had left scars; instead of weakness, however, they had only conceived further strength in him.
I giggled when the assault on my jaw began anew, my back now supported by the softness of our bed.
It did not take long for me to reciprocate his bodily exploration.
Given the perilous circumstances that had begun our courtship – this activity was not remotely difficult – no, not at all.
Epilogue
September 5, 1815
Dear Lizzy,
I feel particularly selfish writing to you from the comfortable rooms of our town home while you prepare to face a harsh Derbyshire winter, but I must acknowledge that your inability to join us for this season is rooted in a happy cause. Sarah asks me every day when her little cousin will arrive, and I am afraid her patience is wearing quite thin. I dearly hope Charles has plenty of ways to distract her. She is growing into quite an adamant young thing. I can only hope she takes after her spirited Aunt Lizzy rather than her stubborn Aunt Caroline!
We are to have Uncle and Aunt Gardiner with us for dinner tomorrow. I shall ask them to prepare the fabrics your husband requested for you. Between him and Charles, you and I have the heartiest wardrobes in all of England, save royalty. Perhaps Mama was right about all the pin money, after all. (I must acknowledge though, Lizzy, that you need your new garments despite all your protests that you do not. Traipsing about the countryside is not an activity that deals kindly with fine clothing.) I look forward to seeing you in all your pretty dresses. I gladly allay all of your fears regarding your growing figure. Once the child arrives, you shall not feel quite so much like an elephant.
Your sister,
Jane Bingley
• • •
December 8, 1815
Dearest Jane,
You must forgive me for my tardy correspondence. Little Bennet’s most disproportionate grandiose arrival in this world (how could it not be with my husband sparing no expense to prepare his rooms and help and garments?) has turned Pemberley into quite the carnival of late. He is a good child and did not have me toil overly long. In fact, I believe it was Fitzwilliam who worried more than I! My husband loves me, and I am so very blessed, Jane. More than once a day, I find myself thanking those nosy robbers for invading Netherfield just when we were there!
Our new parson is set to assume his duties this Sunday, and I do like him much more than the former one. The young man is well-mannered, as any parson should be, but he speaks with remarkably more power than old Mr. Gingham of Meryton and, most definitely, with more sense than Mr. Collins! He is a single man, however, and I hope he marries as wisely as our silly cousin did. One could use the company of another sister in these parts. Perhaps Kitty, with her newfound love of books, can make a good choice?
Oh dear, look at me, motherhood has made me quite as eager to play matchmaker as Mama! I suppose one does become one’s parents, in some invariable way.
I selfishly await your return to Mayfield Manor. I believe you have much wisdom to impart regarding how to best care for Bennet. Perhaps Sarah can convince her father and mother towards an earlier summer retirement?
Wishing you a most happy season, sister dear.
Much love,
Elizabeth Darcy
• • •
March 29, 1816
Dear Darcy,
Thank you for ensuring that the melting snow did not flood the main house at Mayfield Manor. I have much to learn in estate management! How fortunate we are that you remained at Pemberley this season!
Has your wife informed you yet? My darling Jane is increasing once more. Perhaps, next spring, our sons may play side by side in the wilds of Derbyshire!
We shall see your family again very soon.
Sincerely,
Charles Bingley
• • •
June 11, 1816
My darling husband,
I fear the way Georgiana phrased the news must have frightened you too much! I miss you dearly, but there is no need to return from town an entire fortnight early at such a trifling occurrence. There was indeed a disturbance three days ago, but the thief was swiftly caught before he could swipe anything from the stables. And you know – I know you know, dearest – that that part of the property could not be farther from the house! Your son, your wife, and your sister remain entirely, most frustratingly safe. I order you not to fret!
Bennet called for me again today. The nurse was holding him when he looked towards me and called out, “Mama!” My heart sang as it did when he called me first last week. It is now my keenest purpose to teach him to call out similarly for you. But you must give me time to do so and not run away from your duty at the slightest provocation. I know Richard would not have asked for your company if he did not truly desire it. Have your time with your men – and return to me before the next month with your heart as full with love as it can be.
Your devoted wife,
Elizabeth Darcy
• • •
November 19, 1817
Dear Elizabeth,
The winter came early this year for us, and I can’t help but be glad that I had been raised in a place as wildly beautiful as Pemberley. I would never have known how to appreciate the harsher sides of nature otherwise. I am happy to hear that Bennet seems to have inherited his mother’s strong constitution. The Darcys may have wealth and connections aplenty, but if health were a measure of dignity, our family would be considered lowly indeed!
The unlikely story of how you and Fitzwilliam came to be engaged was mentioned once again over dinner yesterday. Once more, my husband’s mother expressed incredulity that such inauspicious circumstances could have resulted in a real marriage – much less a happy one. And to think she’s forgotten entirely about Jane and her equally robust marriage. I suppose it was inevitable that John and I had such a plain and proper courtship. We had much ground to recover after the thrill of yours!
I jest, of course, for I could not be happier that my brother married you. God forbid that one of Aunt Matlock’s goddaughters laid her claws on him. I had quite terrifying nightmares for years.
My husband teases me now that I am every bit a recluse as I wander off to the library more often than towards the social chatter of the drawing room. The music room remains my first love, but the library beckons far more often than it used to in my younger years. Living as your sister for the past years must have shaped my preferences far more than I had been aware. John teases in a happy manner, however, and I have no cause to repine.
I eagerly await our reunion over the impending Christmas season.
Your devoted sister,
Georgiana Ferguson
• • •
March 23, 1819
Dear Lizzy,
With the impending arrival of your second child, and Mary’s, and Lydia’s, your mother has been quite killing me with her overflow of happiness. She gushes constantly,
with prancing and the occasional tear of joy, entirely unprovoked. I am choking on her good graces. I pray that neither Jane nor Kitty ever find themselves audacious enough to dare be with child again within these twelve months. I shall be driven quite mad if they do.
We have received your generous offer to visit Bath, and I must concur, however unwillingly, that the trip would benefit my health and sanction my mind. Do thank your kind husband for us. I am glad he has proven himself to be nothing but deserving of my favorite child.
Sincerely,
Your grateful and besieged father
• • •
April 19, 1821
Dear Darcy,
Shall I sound sentimental to an unseemly degree if I were to mention that I find myself missing your company this Easter? Many a year has passed since the days we would wile away our springtime here at Kent, but I assure you that many changes have come to pass in Rosings ever since our aunt’s passing.
Anne, of course, is as dependent upon our assistance for her accounts as her mother ever was – though I find comfort in the fact that her recent betrothal implies that this would be my final year of fulfilling your disregarded duty. If I were to charge credit for your neglect, I would be a rich man indeed!
Ah, but I must cease to lament, for my lovely Charlotte does enjoy our annual visits. Even now, as I write by my forlorn self, she and Anne and Mrs. Collins exchange their fair share of cheerful anecdotes in the adjoining room. As sorely tempted as I am to blame your sudden marriage for creating the rift between you and our late aunt, I surely cannot begrudge how it had led me to my wife.
The two crying babes in the nursery thank you as well.
Charlotte and I are happy to accept your invitation and shall be glad to reunite with your family in Pemberley this summer. Even now, she is eagerly embroidering new items to gift to your daughter. I do believe she wishes to court little Annie for our son. Consider yourself forewarned, my friend.
Your obedient servant,
Richard Fitzwilliam
