“So much loss, so young. Wealth can only offer comforts for the time we are allowed on this earth, for it can neither assure happiness or preservation of life.”
They grew pensive, but Darcy could not bear for Elizabeth to be left melancholy on their wedding day. “This will not do. Let us speak of something more cheerful. What think you of books?”
Elizabeth laughed. “William, what kind of question is that? Do you mean to ask if I enjoy reading? Do you wish to discuss a specific title or genre? Or should I say something that displays my refined taste?” She arched a brow and fluttered her eyelashes. “Very well, I do think books look best in a library, closed and on the shelves. The colour of their spines offsets the wood found in such a room. There, do I sound like a fashionable lady?”
Darcy chuckled at the image she created to ease her obvious nerves. “Elizabeth, you know I would not have you be anything but your intelligent self. I know you enjoy reading. Do you like just the usual histories and poetry?” He watched in satisfaction as his words took away her unease, and she answered without reservation.
“Of course not! I read many things, even all the current novels and their satires as well. Does that shock you?” She laughed when he replied in the negative. “If I ever wrote my own satire, however, I would write the gentleman in the role of the virtuous servant Pamela, who resists the seductions of her master.”
He tried to contain his smile. He was not shocked at all that she had read the famous novel or held such an unusual opinion. Once again, his fantasy of Elizabeth proved too true to the real thing, even her words were the same; however, he must not dwell on such things. Darcy turned his mind back to the present from remembrance of Elizabeth’s responses to him in that particular imagining.
Arching a brow, he replied, “I believe that has been done. Was not Joseph Andrews virtuous to his Fanny? Did he not resist the enticements of a wealthy and titled lady?”[ii]
He was also unsurprised to see her acknowledge that she had read Henry Fielding’s parody of Pamela, in which her brother was just as chaste as she.
Elizabeth looked at him appraisingly. “I must agree. Although Fielding was mocking Richardson, I did find Joseph Andrews’ celibacy refreshing compared to the hypocrisy of Mr. Bountiful, who only desired to seduce Pamela and had at least one natural child. Or even Fielding’s Tom Jones, who is too happy to be lost in the arms of various temptresses and possibly fathered a child by one while proclaiming love for another.”[iii]
She paused and seemed disappointed not to have shocked or provoked him with her demand for male celibacy.
Darcy decided to turn the tables on her. “You seem quite put out by the men acknowledging their natural children. It is their obligation to care for the child and its mother. What would you have them do instead?”
Her eyes flashed, and Darcy suppressed his slight smile.
“What wife would enjoy thinking that of her husband? Of knowing he held affection for someone else? How can she trust his vow of fidelity? Especially as these women love the men, it is not a mere marriage of convenience they hope to make.”
“You speak passionately on the subject.”
“I am convinced nothing but mutual affection can lead to marital felicity or self-respect.” Darcy nodded in agreement, and she continued, “But it is more than that: it is the lack of prudence that is offensive. Those men would rob the legitimate heir of his due to fund this other child, steal from a daughter’s dowry to put up a child and mother, and all for selfish desires. I know it is the honourable way when an innocent child is begat, but it is not the most honourable way for a gentleman to behave.”
“You talk as though maintaining one woman and child with modest expectations is an expensive feat.”
“You are speaking to a woman who knows the sense of economy. My father spends the whole of his income each year and one hundred pounds each on us sisters. A gentleman would be hard pressed to support his child and its mother on much less than that, not considering the more expensive gentleman’s education if the child is a boy, and yet it would rob my family of the comforts we have. Certainly you can see we are not outfitted in the newest styles and expensive trimmings, and our carriage horses work on the farm as well.”
After a pause, she shook her head and began anew. “However, I do not speak of that kind of virtue. Consider Pamela’s lowly position as a servant and her willingness to spurn being well settled as mistress of the wealthy Mr. Bountiful to keep her chastity and respectability. Not only are gentlemen not expected to be chaste, but I also doubt they are taught to spurn the seduction of a handsome fortune or fine estate for nearly any reason. You nearly did not.”
“You think not?”
“You must confess the truth! It was another point among your fastidious standards for suitable women.”
“When I first met you, I admit I felt more akin to Tom Jones than Joseph Andrews, yes.”[iv]
“Worried of falling into the web of a certain lady of great means?”
She smirked, and he understood she referenced Miss Bingley. He suppressed a shudder. “Certainly not. I was never tempted by Miss Bingley.” He paused, then clarified the matter. “I have had one who would steal all that is mine.”
“The great master of Pemberley made to feel like an impoverished foundling, unacknowledged by your only living parent, cheated by the companion of your youth, and nearly losing your rightful inheritance? Come, sir, it cannot be.”
“Oh, but it is. In matters of affection and attention, I was cheated. The same villain attempted to force himself into marriage with my sister—a more faithful portrait of Sophia there could never be. She is everything beautiful, youthful, innocent, modest, and tender.”[v]
Elizabeth gasped. “How awful. How was she saved?”
“By the merest chance.”
Darcy did not desire to speak of Wickham this day, so he chose to alter the course of the conversation again. It seemed no matter what he did speak to Elizabeth about that night in the library, which charmed her enough to come to his bed, it was not on the subject of Pamela or seduction. Still, he found himself feeling bold enough to speak some of the words he wished he shared with her then.
“You are incorrect in your assumptions of what I desired in a woman, Elizabeth. I might not have known exactly why I was never drawn to any other lady before, but I knew I wanted a woman who could match me intellectually and defend her opinions. I did not want timidity, and I was sick of deference.” He paused and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “Shortly after meeting you, I found I very much admired impertinence and a lively mind.”
Elizabeth gasped at the contact but bravely spoke. “You refused the trappings of society all along, like Pamela?”[vi]
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I did, and I think I was always longing for you, Lizzy.” She blushed, and he added, “And, dear, so you know, I have been like Joseph Andrews as well. You need have no fear of our children’s money being spent on others.”
He bestowed a tender kiss but lingered on her lips almost as a promise of more to come later. Elizabeth sighed happily as he broke the contact, and they continued the discussion of literature until the carriage passed onto the cobbled streets of London.
[1]
[2].
[3]
[4]
[5]
[6]
* * *
Anne is suffering from what we would diagnose as rheumatic fever, a complication from Scarlet Fever. The onset of her behaviour is a complication of it. ↵
I have mentioned Pamela before. The book inspired many parodies (or blatant plagiarism in some cases). Henry Fielding wrote several. One was called Shamela, in which the heroine is not virtuous or chaste but merely acting a part. Another was Joseph Andrews. He was the brother of Pamela’s heroine, and amongst the trials he goes through before finally being united with his beloved, he continually resists the seduction of, I kid you not, Lady Booby. Fielding was mocking the moral hypocrisy in Pamela but
not seriously arguing for male chastity, although Elizabeth wishes he had been ↵
Tom Jones was another famous novel by Fielding. I am not attempting at all to summarise the entire plot, but only in relation to Darcy and Elizabeth’s conversation. The protagonist was raised as a foundling for a wealthy gentleman’s family. He has a short affair with the gamekeeper’s daughter and possibly fathers her child. Later, he falls in love with his childhood friend and neighbour from a nearby estate, Sophia Western. Both families are against their marriage. Feeling the obstacles insurmountable, Tom flees the area and eventually meets Lady Bellaston, and even when he is later reunited with Sophia, who has avoided an arranged marriage, and she affirms her regard for him, Tom does not give up his affair with Lady Bellaston. Later, he ends up in yet another woman’s bed. Elizabeth finds this offensive, although in the end, Tom marries Sophia, and he is seemingly reformed by her virtuous ways. Richardson describes Tom’s marriage to Sophia as thus: “Whatever in the nature of Jones had a tendency to vice,,[sic] has been corrected by continual conversation with this good man, and by his union with the lovely and virtuous Sophia.” ↵
Darcy casts Wickham in the role of Tom’s enemies. Tom was raised with one of his enemies. Tom was actually heir to the estate, but through the lies about his birth, his enemy was believed to be the heir. The young man was cruel to Tom while gaining the affections of most of the characters. Another man planned to rape Sophia and trap her into marriage in order to make Tom give her up. In this case, Wickham is like both enemies. ↵
Darcy does not desire a wife like Sophia but admits his sister is very much like her. An 1800 pin-up of a dishevelled Sophia jumping rope in contemporary clothing, rather than the hoop skirts of the 1740s, described her thusly: “Adorned with all the charms in which Nature can array her, bedecked with beauty, youth, sprightliness, innocence, modesty and tenderness, breathing sweetness from her rosy lips and darting brightness from her sparkling eyes, the lovely Sophia comes!” ↵
Darcy and Elizabeth are equals in their likeness to Pamela here. They were both willing to give up what society lauded as the best course and stick to their principles ↵
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth, aside from her fit of nerves at the beginning of the journey, greatly enjoyed the ride to London with Darcy. His apology for his dislike of her family was touching. She appreciated that he allowed her to speak her mind so freely—not just about books but also her opinion of the discrepancies and hypocrisies in the expectations of men and women. She was even more pleased to learn he shared her views and, if she understood him correctly, had never succumbed to carnal temptation before.
As they passed through the streets of London, she began to recognise an ache in her lower back and cramping in her pelvis. She was mortified that her courses would arrive, of all times, on her wedding day! But the jostling of the carriage was exacerbating her pains and producing a headache as well. She had never felt her pains so acutely before, and she could only assume it was due to their late arrival, compounded by her recent anxieties and now the travel. The conversation waned, and Elizabeth was grateful for the quiet of her own thoughts. She fervently prayed they would soon reach Darcy’s house.
They passed several magnificent and large houses before coming to a stop. Elizabeth peered out the window, and although she felt unwell, she could not stifle her laughter.
Darcy looked at her quizzically and possibly felt a bit offended.
“Excuse me, I do not mean to offend. It is a lovely house, and I am very pleased with it.” Darcy relaxed significantly. “It is only that as we passed the other enormous homes, I became more nervous about the likely size of yours. Now I recall that Miss Bingley never fawned over your London house. I imagine she fancied you would take a lease on something grander if you married her, but I much prefer less ostentation.”
She looked at the perfectly charming and adequate home in Mayfair but also acknowledged it was small and dated compared to several other majestic structures nearby.
Darcy’s lips twitched in amusement. “What do you find diverting, sir?”
“The Hursts lease a house in Grosvenor Street, so you can imagine her expectations. The Darcys did have a lease on a larger home, but Father gave it up after Mother died. This home was brought to the estate by my father’s mother. You understand, of course, most of the houses are owned by families like the Grosvenors and then leased out, but this is a Darcy possession. It might not be palatial, but it is ours.” He smiled, and Elizabeth saw his obvious pride, not in the house and his wealth but in his heritage.
The door to the carriage opened, and Darcy descended, then turned, ready to hand her out. Elizabeth stood and was seized with a horrible cramping sensation so strong she cried out in pain.
Darcy was at her side in an instant. Before she knew it, he was carrying her into the house and hurriedly introducing her to the housekeeper, dismissing the assembled servants, and calling for a physician.
“William, please. I do not need a physician. I will be perfectly well soon. Please, just take me to my chambers. I trust there is a maid who can see to me.”
Darcy was adamant about sending for a physician, and Elizabeth had no strength to argue, especially as doing so would necessitate she relate to him the cause for her discomfort, a conversation she desperately wished to avoid.
Less than an hour later, she was bathed, dressed in a night shift with her hair plaited, and in her bed when the doctor entered the room.
“Mrs. Darcy, I am Dr. Matthews. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Elizabeth shyly returned the civility.
“Can you tell me your complaint?”
Although she blushed profusely, Elizabeth explained that her courses had arrived and her opinion as to the cause of the intensity of the symptoms.
“I agree entirely,” he said as he packed up his bag.
“Doctor…” Elizabeth hesitantly began. “Could you…that is, would you please inform Mr. Darcy as to the cause of my indisposition?”
His eyes widened a little. “Mrs. Darcy, I understand you are a newlywed, but Mr. Darcy must have some understanding of ladies. He has raised his very young sister, after all.”
“Please, doctor. I hate to bring him disappointment.”
“Ah, I suppose I was thinking more clinically than that. Very well, he is likely to make an inquisition of it as soon as I exit this room at any rate.”
He said his farewells and left her with some laudanum for the pain. Elizabeth took his draught and gratefully fell into a deep sleep.
*****
“Dr. Matthews, please tell me how my wife is faring.” Darcy was exceedingly agitated and paced around his study where the men were meeting. He did not know Dr. Matthews very well. His usual physician, Dr. Ashton, was unavailable. Dr. Matthews, who had stood in for Dr. Ashton before, was called. He seemed to lack a certain bedside manner but was a very capable physician.
“She is not ill. She is only indisposed, as is the natural way of things with healthy women. I realise this is frustrating as you are newly married, but for her own comfort, you should certainly abstain.”
“She is well?”
The doctor nodded affirmatively, and Darcy visibly relaxed.
“We had planned to depart for my estate soon and have another journey planned as well. Is she well enough to travel?”
“Certainly. She may tire more easily, but it is nothing I would restrict.”
“How long will she be indisposed?”
The doctor replied uncertainly. “It varies with each woman. I am certain she will inform you when she is entirely over it. In fact, you will indisputably know.”
Darcy could only nod in agreement. He hoped the doctor would give him an estimated date of birth, but simple math would tell everyone the babe was due in August. Other than that, they came in their own time, and Darcy would certainly “indisputably” know when the baby arrived. Abstaining from relations until after she recovered from the babe’s birth was frustrating to hear
, but he would do nothing that could hurt Elizabeth or cause her unease. They had the rest of their lives to join together again as man and wife, and he had managed to abstain until that fateful night with her; surely he could manage the next eight months. A relieved Darcy led Dr. Matthews to the door, and the gentleman departed.
The celebratory dinner planned by the housekeeper was cancelled as soon as Darcy had arrived with an unwell Elizabeth in his arms. Instead, he ate simple fare and requested a tray for supper in his rooms. Elizabeth slept straight through it all, and he wondered if she even knew where the bell for the servant was to request assistance or food, should she wake and need it. A tray for her was decided against; there was little that would keep for hours on end, and Darcy did not know Elizabeth’s preferences.
He sat on the sofa in his chambers in his shirt and breeches, the rest of the house long abed. This was certainly not the wedding night he envisioned, and he would be sleeping in separate chambers from his wife for the foreseeable future, but his relief that she was well was beyond compare.
He regretted he had not asked the doctor how he thought Elizabeth would bear under the strains of childbirth. Darcy knew little of the process, only that many women died, including his own mother. There was no denying Elizabeth was much healthier and stronger than his mother had been. Elizabeth’s mother bore five children in eight years. Both of his grandmothers bore half a dozen children each, and his Aunt Sidney survived four births with no complaints. It was only his mother who seemed to have difficulty. Restating the facts reassured him, slightly.
Seven Days With Mr Darcy Page 43
