She did not respond.
Chapter 14
December 14th 1809
Pemberley
Derbyshire
Dearest Lizzy,
Thank you for your letter informing me of Thomas’s latest episode. Since you were not witness to his last, I am certain it was frightening. Georgiana and I are both heartbroken you will not be at Pemberley for the Christmastide, yet it is with a heavy heart that we decline your invitation to Worthstone.
Mr. Bingley and his sisters will break their journey to London at Pemberley before Christmas, and I have invited them to pass the season with us as I expected you to travel here. Though I would prefer to rescind the Bingleys’ invitation, it is too late to do so now.
Please convey our wishes to Thomas for a happy Christmas season. Of course, we do not exclude you in those wishes. We hope you have a blessed holiday season as well.
Georgiana and I intend to travel to London next month. I wish to give Georgiana some time with the masters, though I shall not venture out much to balls and dinners. As you are aware, I am not comfortable in those settings, so I am content that mourning Father will prevent my attendance. If Thomas is well enough to make the journey for the start of Parliament, pray send a note. We should dearly love to have you for dinner.
God Bless You,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth folded the missive and placed it back into her reticule. She read and re-read Fitzwilliam’s letters often, though that specific one did not particularly speak to her soul. They had discussed the need to keep posted correspondence formal in the event the letter was read by the wrong person or misdirected, which despite his calling her Lizzy, explained his tone. Still, it was January— nearly four months since she had laid eyes upon him—nearly four months of poring over each and every missive in that reticule until they nearly fell apart from the use.
Would he still love her when they were finally reunited? Had he decided she was not worth his effort and decided to adhere to the duties expected of him—specifically marrying and producing an heir?
“How are you feeling?” Thomas remained pale though the physician had indicated he was well enough to travel.
She dropped her head back against the plush velvet squabs and exhaled. “This infernal rocking is not helping.”
“We shall arrive soon.” He watched her for a moment. “You must be eager to see Fitzwilliam.”
“I am nervous.”
His eyebrows drew down in the middle with a frown. “I do not understand why.”
Though she still had bouts of anger at Thomas for his officiousness, she could not remain angry at him forever. Instead, during his illness, she helped his valet care for him and often read to him while he convalesced. Despite their circumstances, they had become closer friends than they had been when they wed.
“He has had four months to decide I am not worth his time. What if he decides to wed another? After all, he cannot marry me.”
Her husband reached forward and took her hand. “Elizabeth, one thing you should know about the Darcy men is that we do not fall in love at random. Despite being an Osborne, I inherited the steadfast Darcy heart from my mother. We love one person and only that person until we die.” He patted her knuckles in an almost grandfatherly manner. “Do not fret. I shall speak to him.”
“And say what? Pray, do not marry. Remain my wife’s lover? What a ludicrous proposition.” She winced and covered her mouth with her free hand while she took a keen interest in what lay outside the window. Unfortunately, the quick passage of houses and storefronts did little to help the incessant churning of her stomach.
His hand squeezed hers and was joined by the opposite. “Elizabeth, look at me.”
Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze from the window and met his eyes.
“I am still weak,” he said, “and I lose my breath easily now. After past episodes, I was myself again by this time.”
She lowered her hand from her mouth to her chest. “It has only been a month.”
“Colin agrees that I am not regaining my health as I did on prior occasions. I shall not live forever, and I feel the end will come sooner than later. I do hope to see the babe born before I die, yet that is in God’s hands.”
Though she could eventually be with Fitzwilliam if Thomas died, she did not wish for Thomas’s death. Despite her feelings toward him and his scheming, she did care for him. She would be a horrible person to wish him dead. “We do not even know that I am with child.”
Thomas smiled and leaned back into his seat. “The midwife felt certain of it, and you have changed if you have not noticed. Your face is a little rounder, and your figure is as well. I assure you Fitzwilliam will notice.” He glanced out of the window for a moment, likely seeing if he recognised their surroundings. He took a deep breath. “I intend to return you to Worthstone when we are certain. I do not want to take any chances with you or the babe.”
Her hands clenched, and she withheld the urge to snap at him. “I could be here for days if what the midwife says is accurate. This was a long journey for such a short visit.”
He swayed some with the movement of the carriage. The journey had not only been arduous on her. “I had no desire to deny you or your sister. If the babe quickens in a few days, you may remain a fortnight. That will provide you some opportunity to spend time with your sister and to see Lady Vranes. I know you have missed her society also.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I have. I should also have a few gowns made.”
“Of course,” he said with a hoarse laugh. “A woman always longs for a new gown.”
“Or one that fits appropriately.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Most of my gowns are cut along my figure and do not have the excess of fabric required to accommodate a growing child. They are also tight in the bosom.”
His eyes darted to her breasts and back to her face. “So soon?”
She rolled her eyes at his higher-pitched tone. Since she became aware of his relationship with his valet, his aversion to the feminine figure had become more noticeable. Even now, he almost seemed to recoil at the notion of her burgeoning breasts. “Yes, so soon. The midwife indicated the occurrence was not unusual.”
“Then send a note to Madame Bonheur as soon as we arrive. I do not wish for your discomfort.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and glanced through the window to see the large façade of Worth House quickly approaching. “At last, we are here.” She took a deep breath and released it. “I shall not have to sleep in an inn tonight.”
“I cannot find fault with your sentiment. I also prefer the comfort of my own bed.” When the door opened, he stepped out and handed her down, offering his arm to enter the house. “I confess I thought to surprise you.”
She glanced back at him. What did that mean? How did he hope to surprise her? Before she could ask, the door opened and Elizabeth whipped around to smile at the butler. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hughes. How are you?”
“Very well, Your Grace.”
When her eyes shifted to the opulent hall, she started and covered her mouth with her hands. Jane stood primly in the middle, bouncing on her toes. “Lizzy?”
“Jane!” Elizabeth threw herself forward and into the embrace of her sister while they both wept. She drew back enough to kiss Jane’s cheek and cradle her face in her palms while her dearest sister wiped the tears flowing freely down Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I knew you would come, but I thought tomorrow.”
Jane shook her head while she used her fingers to wipe her own tears. “Your husband sent Uncle a note, requesting I arrive this morning, and before I forget, Aunt desires word of your plans so she knows when to call.”
Elizabeth pulled her fine linen handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed her sister’s face. “I require a few new gowns, so we shall be required to travel to Cheapside for fabric. We could meet my aunt, and she could accompany us to Madame Bonheur’s.”
Thomas stepped closer, and Jane curtseyed. “Your Grace.”
He kissed her hand. “Brother or Thomas, if it makes you more comfortable. Family does not call me by my title—well, unless you are my nephew James, who is undeserving of the connection.” With a fatherly pat to Jane’s hand, he glanced up the stairs. “If you will excuse me, I am fatigued from our trip and require rest. I am certain you do not desire my presence for your reunion. You, no doubt, have topics to discuss where you would prefer my absence.” He bowed. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”
“Thank you for having me . . . Brother.”
No sooner had Thomas disappeared at the top of the staircase than her sister grasped her hands. “Is he well? He appears wan.”
“The physician approved his travelling for the start of Parliament, but Thomas has simply never regained his colour after his last illness.”
Jane held out Elizabeth’s arms and perused her gown with a smile. “You are looking well.”
“And so are you,” said Elizabeth. “I know Aunt took you to Madame Bonheur’s, but I hope you will not mind accompanying me.”
“I would be happy to keep you company.”
Elizabeth released one of Jane’s hands and pulled her towards the stairs while her entire being sang in contentment. Jane was here. They would have time together at last. “Are you settled? Do you require anything?”
Her beloved sister shook her head while she followed. “No, your servants have been most attentive.”
As soon as they were closed behind the doors of Elizabeth’s sitting room, Elizabeth released Jane to remove her gloves, setting them on a small table inside the door. She turned and took in the wall coverings, which were bedecked in colourful wildflowers.
When she faced Jane once more, she exhaled and clasped her hands in front of her. “We extended this invitation for the Season, yet I shall likely return to Worthstone before long. Forgive me for not telling you sooner, but I am uncertain of how long I shall remain in town.”
“You are with child.” Jane’s tone was so even and matter-of-fact.
“How?”
Jane giggled and cupped Elizabeth’s cheeks in her palms. “Really, Lizzy? Have you looked in the mirror lately? Your figure is curvier and your face has become rounder.” Jane’s thumbs softly caressed her cheeks. “I remember well when Mama carried Lydia. You greatly resemble her at the moment.”
Elizabeth lifted that eyebrow she favoured. “I should scold you for that remark, Jane Bennet.” How dare Jane compare her to Mama!
“Mama has always been a handsome woman. You should not be insulted.”
“I am not truly.” Elizabeth sighed and sat upon the cheerful robin’s egg blue sofa. “Not that I relish the idea of being compared to her in any way.” If Jane had compared them in terms of personality, then Elizabeth would have much more cause for insult.
“She will be positively beside herself when she learns she is to be a grandmother.”
Elizabeth groaned and sank farther into the cushions. “Could we not delay telling her for a time? Perchance until after the birth? The child’s fifth birthday would suit well.”
“Lizzy!” laughed Jane.
“Can you not hear her? ‘Bless me! The grandmother of a future duke! I shall go distracted. Hill! Fetch me my salts!’ Besides, I could never tolerate her when I was ill. Could you imagine during childbirth? I am terrified enough as it is.”
Jane slid beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But look at what comes from it. Will it not be worth the pain and effort?”
“You say that, yet you will not endure it,” said Elizabeth with a smile. She shifted her eyes to where her thumb rubbed across the palm of her hand several times, making flesh pucker and shift. Her eyes burned and she blinked. Fitzwilliam’s child would be more than worth the effort. A living part of him she did not have to hide or be without. If only he could have such a token of her. She cleared her throat. “Yes, I do believe this babe will be worth every last bit of discomfort.”
“Lizzy?”
She blinked some more and sat up. “Forgive me. I seem to weep with little provocation these days.”
“You must be exhausted from travelling in your condition,” said Jane, squeezing the arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Perhaps you should sleep until dinner.”
“I should.” Elizabeth shook her head and leaned further into Jane. “Yet I do not want to give up one moment with you.”
Jane held out a hand to help her stand. “Come, show me which door leads to your dressing room. I shall brush your hair and sit with you until you fall asleep. Would you like that?”
“Very much.” Jane was a dear sister. She could not ask for a better one. Only Georgiana came close with her innocent, sweet disposition.
Once Lalande helped her from her gown and Elizabeth donned her nightgown, Jane brushed her hair while they chatted of the goings-on in Meryton: who was now betrothed to whom, new babies, and other changes around the quaint town. When she laid down, Jane pulled the curtains, tucked her into bed, and laid down beside her. “What determines when you return to Derbyshire?”
“My husband desires my swift return upon the quickening. He fears the consequences of exposure to the foul air of London for too long if I am truly with child.”
“When do you expect the babe to move?”
Her palm pressed against the slight swell. “Any day. My husband has promised me a fortnight with you regardless. If his nephew had not amassed such a staggering debt, he might give me more time.”
“He fears for the future of his tenants and his home. It is understandable and laudable. After all, our father has no such control over Longbourn’s future. This child could guarantee prosperity to the dukedom and his other properties for another generation, and by extension, the families that rely on it.”
“I do understand his position. His nephew’s creditors continue to extend him more and more due to the promise of James’s inheritance. This babe will not be welcome news to those men or his nephew, yet I do not believe us to be in any danger.” She added the last at Jane’s wide eyes. She would not want her dearest sister to worry unnecessarily. “James is a drunkard, a seducer, and a gambler. He also has little to do with Thomas.”
Elizabeth yawned and snuggled further into the covers. “Tell me more of my sisters. I hope they are becoming less silly and more accomplished.”
After a slight laugh, Jane folded the pillow, propping her chest upon it. “Very well.” And so, she began. At least until Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered closed and she lost her awareness of her surroundings and the sweet voice of Jane.
“I am so pleased to have happened upon you,” said Lady Matlock, who sat opposite Elizabeth in Madame Bonheur’s comfortable parlour. A full tea set sat on a table before them. “I hope to have a small dinner soon. Now, I simply must set the date, so I can send you an invitation.”
The fusee bracket clock chimed on the wall behind her, and the countess startled. “Oh my! Is that the time? I should be going. This has been ever so much fun. It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Gardiner.” She nodded to Elizabeth’s aunt, then Jane. “Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth made to stand but Lady Matlock pressed a hand to her shoulder. “Pray do not worry.” She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “I remember those early days well. Save your feet, for they will swell to the size of gammons soon enough.”
Once the countess swished through the door in a wave of primrose silk, Elizabeth’s aunt lifted her eyebrows while she placed her teacup on the table. “She should not make assumptions. You never so much as indicated your suspicions in front of her.”
On the other hand, Elizabeth had informed her aunt, seeking advice while they travelled across London. Her aunt helped her select a variety of fabrics, which included some for baby clothes, before venturing to Madame Bonheur’s to select patterns for her own gowns.
They were the last customers of the day, so Madame had encouraged them to finish their tea before departing.
“Lady Matlock is more practised amongst o
thers, yet she is quite open with me. I am unsure why.” Elizabeth set her own cup beside her aunt’s and Jane’s and stood. “Have we any further business here or nearby? I am ready to go home.”
“You do look tired, dearest,” said Jane, who stood and wrapped her arm through Elizabeth’s.
“You give the loveliest compliments.”
She and her aunt laughed while Jane gasped. “You do enjoy vexing me.”
Elizabeth laughed a little harder and met her aunt’s glance out of the corner of her eye. “You sound like Mama.”
Jane pinched Elizabeth’s arm. “You must take that back.”
“Take back the truth,” she said. “What a novel idea.” Elizabeth tugged Jane to the door while her aunt followed.
After they loaded into the carriage, Elizabeth rested back into the plush squabs and caught her aunt’s attention. “I understand if you cannot, but I would appreciate your attendance at my lying-in.”
“I would love to be there for you. I shall speak to Edward, though I should tell you that I have my own suspicions.” Elizabeth sat up straighter while Jane pressed her hands together. “I believe I am a month from the quickening, but if I am indeed with child, I could not travel so close to my own confinement.”
Elizabeth shook her head, though her eyes burned. She did not want to be alone for the birth—should there be one, but to be near tears? “And I would not expect it of you. Travelling to London is difficult enough. I do not anticipate the return to Derbyshire one bit. The sickness has waned, but I am increasingly achy in my hips.”
“The rocking of a carriage is also no friend,” said her aunt. “I remember the journey to Hertfordshire when your grandmother died. I was two months from my lying in, and I did not forgive Edward until the soreness dissipated. It was a miserable carriage ride only to console your mother and receive callers.”
“Oh, Aunt!” Jane reached across and took her aunt’s hands. “Maybe I can come to London and help with the children. You will require someone when your time draws near, not to mention afterwards.”
“Your aid would be gratefully received, my dear. Lizzy came three years ago when Isaac was born. I do not know what I would have done without her.”
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