When she opened them again, sun streamed through the windows. Elizabeth rolled out of bed and made her way toward the dressing room. She had just finished her ablutions when the maid entered.
“Good morning, Ma’am.” Katie curtseyed. “Have you any preferences this morning?”
Every morning since Elizabeth arrived at Netherfield, Katie would come to her after assisting Jane and ask this same question. Every morning Elizabeth answered the same way. “No, Katie, do as you see fit.”
The maid stood before the wardrobe. “Tis such a shame you needs wear black, Ma’am.” She clucked her tongue before choosing from Elizabeth’s mourning gowns. Shortly after, with her hair done up in the simplest style and a black shawl draped across her shoulders, Elizabeth was ready to leave her rooms. Her footsteps carried her down the hall where she found Mr. Darcy waiting at the top of the stairs.
He had attempted to strike a relaxed posture, as though he might be considering the vase which would hold fresh flowers come spring, but she knew him too well. He may not have heard her approach, but she saw him inhale as she neared his side.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered before turning and clasping her hand in his. He bowed over it, pressing his lips to her knuckles.
She caught herself swaying toward him and stopped. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. I trust you slept well.” She withdrew her hand from his and smoothed her skirt.
Pain filled his eyes before he presented an appealing smile. “As well as expected. And you? I cannot help noticing you appear weary. Are you unwell, Elizabeth?” This last was said in a whisper, but she quickly looked about to see who might have heard.
Her hand caressed her stomach. “My sleep is frequently disturbed at this time, but I am well.”
Darcy held out his arm and she hesitated before accepting his assistance down the stairs. “I wish to speak to you,” he murmured soft enough that only she could hear.
Elizabeth shook her head. “It is impossible.”
“How so?” Darcy looked her way, but then returned his attention to the steps. “Nelson is attempting to find a way,” he said in that soft manner.
“I cannot.” Elizabeth released his arm a step from the bottom and hurried toward the dining room.
“Please,” she heard him call after her, but she did not turn around. Jane and Charles were already seated when Elizabeth entered the dining room. She slowed her pace and was not surprised when Darcy waved the footman away and assisted her into her chair. She thanked him without raising her eyes, but noted he bowed before taking his seat across from her.
The Bingleys greeted their guest before Jane turned her attention toward her sister. “Lizzy, you have slept ill again. Should I call for the midwife or apothecary?”
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “It is simply becoming difficult to find a comfortable position.”
The staff set serving plates before them and each selected their favourites, causing conversation to lull while they enjoyed their repast. Elizabeth moved her food about, cutting everything into small bites that she could pretend to eat.
“Is the food not to your liking, madam?” Darcy suddenly asked and Elizabeth felt all eyes upon her.
“I beg your pardon?” She met his eye directly.
“Forgive me, but it appears you are moving your food about more than you are ingesting it. I feared it was not to your taste. Perhaps something sweet?” Darcy motioned toward a plate of sweet rolls beside him.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I suppose my stomach is just unsettled this morning.”
“As it is every morning,” Jane muttered. “Shall I have Nicholls prepare some peppermint tea and plain biscuits?”
Tears filled her eyes as Elizabeth shook her head once more. “That is not necessary, Jane.” She patted her linen against her lips and set it on the table beside her plate. “I fear I am simply not ready to break my fast.” She stood. “Please do not allow me to ruin your meal.” She dipped an abbreviated curtsey and hurried from the room.
Once in the hall, she knew it would not be long before someone followed her, yet she had no desire to speak to anyone. She looked about, trying to think of a location where she might hide, but was too late.
“Elizabeth,” Charles’ voice sounded just before the door clicked closed behind him. “Will you accompany me to my study?” He held out his arm, his eyes brooking no objection.
Though she glanced toward the stairs and the haven of her rooms, she accepted his arm and allowed him to escort her the short distance. Once she was seated in front of his desk, he paced to the other side and leaned upon his own chair.
“I have been home less than a day and recognize that all is not well.” His brow furrowed. “Was I wrong to bring Darcy? I had thought, perhaps, his presence might revive your spirits. I cannot help but think of the vigorous debates between the two of you all those years ago when you were both guests in my home. Though I was made uncomfortable at that time, I now would be grateful to be placed in that situation once more.”
“It is not Mr. Darcy, Charles. Much has changed in my life.” Elizabeth tugged her shawl closer about her shoulders. “I am in mourning.”
Charles huffed as he dropped into the chair. “I despise this pretence of mourning into which people are forced.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose in horror. “Have I shown any disrespect …?”
“That is not what I mean.” Charles ran a hand through his hair. “Forgive me, but when I pass, I hope those who loved me will truly mourn; but to be forced to visually grieve a person whom one could barely tolerate is appalling.” He met her gaze. “And to stop living for a full year because society says one must is nonsensical.”
Elizabeth tore her eyes from his and stared at her stomach. “I am a widow with one child and another on the way. My concern is for them. I will work with Papa to assist William to one day take his place as the Master of Longbourn. That is my life now, Charles. I have no thoughts for myself.” Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked rapidly.
“If that is the case, why do you not eat?” His voice was quiet but forceful and she was unable to respond. “You are young, Elizabeth. I cannot imagine what your life with Collins was like, but I pray you would not use that experience as a reason to push away happiness when it presents itself.”
She shook her head, knowing that she did not deserve happiness. She had taken it when it was not hers to have, now she was not worthy of it.
A light knock on the door interrupted them and Charles crossed the room to answer. Nothing was said, but the door closed nearly as soon as it opened, though Charles did not return to his seat.
“Elizabeth,” she heard Darcy whisper and turned to find them alone in the room.
“Where did my brother go?” she asked as she pushed herself to her feet.
“I begged a moment of your time.” He took a step closer, but she backed away.
“I did not assent ...”
“No, and I feared you would not, but I must speak to you.” This time, he moved faster and stopped her escape by grasping her hands. “What have I done? I wanted to come to you, but Anne forbid it. She feared there would be talk. I stayed at Pemberley, so miserable that Georgiana even deserted me. My every thought was with you.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Please, forgive me.”
The tortured look in his eyes undid her and her tears would not be withheld. The force of her sobs drove her into his arms as her knees buckled under her. Darcy lifted her and carried her to the nearest chair where he sat, cradling her on his lap, rocking her like a child.
“There … is … nothing … to forgive,” she whispered between sobs. “It is me. I am … not worthy …”
“Nonsense,” Darcy declared as he kissed her forehead. “You are all that is good …”
She shook her head and pushed away from him, but he held her tighter. “No, I am evil. A Jezebel. I turned my back on God and revelled in the works of the flesh. I do not deserve …”
Darcy held her tighter. “
You are taking on as though you were personally responsible for Mr. Collins’ death. Can you not see it for what it was? A terrible accident which freed you to live the life you might otherwise have had for years.”
Her sobs tore at her throat. “I did kill him. I said such terrible things. Oh, how can you ever love me now?” She pressed her forehead into his shoulder and clung to him.
“Hush now.” Darcy rubbed her back. “What is this nonsense? You could not have killed him.”
“I did,” she whispered. “He was lying there, berating me for his lot, and I became so incensed. I unleashed my venom upon him. I told him you were William’s father, not he, and that you also fathered the babe I carry. Then he was choking but he would not allow me near him, and … and then he was still.”
Darcy continued to cradle her as she cried until there was nothing left.
“He was a man of God,” she moaned, “and I killed him.”
“No!” Darcy grasped her shoulders and held her so she could see his expression. “Collins was no more a man of God than … than Wickham. They both would use the church for their own self-interest. He did not even write his own sermons but allowed Lady Catherine to dictate them to him. The man had no true understanding of what it meant to be a man of the cloth.” He wiped her tears away with his thumbs as he cradled her face. “You were not responsible for his death, Elizabeth.”
She tried to shake her head, but he would not allow it. Exhausted, she leaned forward until her forehead pressed against his lips. He held her close and her eyes drifted shut. When she awoke some hours later, she was in her room and the drapes were drawn to block out the light. She rolled to her side and reached for the small pitcher and glass which were always on the bedside table. Beside them sat the locket Darcy had given her when William was born. After returning to Hertfordshire, she no longer carried a chatelaine and had taken to wearing the locket on a ribbon about her neck. It must have been removed and placed where she would see it upon waking.
She picked it up and studied it. There appeared to be something sticking out at one spot, so she carefully opened it for fear the lock of hair would fall out. Inside was a folded piece of paper. She opened it, revealing a slip no larger than an inch square which read “My heart is forever yours. – W”. She carefully folded it and returned it back inside, kissing the locket before placing the ribbon about her neck once more.
The guilt she carried had not lessened, but the fear of Darcy’s rejection was gone. The comfort she felt in his arms, the love and serenity of being near him; how could she ever be worthy of him. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she cuddled against the pillow and clutched the locket in her fist, allowing sleep to envelope her once more.
***********
Elizabeth finally joined the rest of the household when dinner was called. She accepted Darcy’s arm as he escorted her from the drawing-room to the dining-room and even joined in the conversation a few times. Eating a bit of the roast and potatoes earned her a smile from all assembled.
After dinner, Darcy and Bingley accompanied the ladies back to the drawing-room where they agreed to a friendly game of whist. When it was time to retire, Elizabeth felt a bit lighter and too well rested to return to her rooms. She chose instead to visit the library in hopes of finding a book to read. Jane and Charles had made a conscious effort to improve their collection and Elizabeth enjoyed their selections. She was standing before a shelf of poetry when she heard the door open and close. Without turning, she knew Darcy had joined her.
His arms slipped about her, his hands lovingly caressing her stomach, as he kissed her shoulder. “Are you truly as well as you appear?” he whispered.
“I am much improved.” She ran her hands over his. “We should not …”
“The Bingleys have retired and believe I am in my room.” He laid a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her neck. “Please assure me again that you are well. I was so troubled earlier.” His arms tightened about her.
A weak laugh escaped her. “You cannot be afraid. I require your strength.”
“Whatever I have is yours, but you can never leave me.” He turned her to face him and caressed her cheek. “I have lived without you too long, Elizabeth. Promise me you will be my wife once your time of mourning has ended.”
She looked into his eyes, her entire body tingling with anticipation. Unable to speak, she nodded and found herself pressed against him, his lips tasting hers as though savouring a fine wine. She opened to him and soon his tongue sparred with hers. The faint sound of hairpins hitting the bookshelf and floor broke through to her and she drew away to catch her breath. The baby kicked, alerting Elizabeth to her dislike of the confining embrace and causing Darcy to step back.
“She is strong,” he marvelled as he ran a hand over Elizabeth’s stomach. A grin lit his features and he pulled her to the closest sofa where he sat and drew her to stand between his legs.
Darcy pressed his lips to her stomach then whispered lovingly to their child. “Are you tormenting your mama, dearest? I know she has been despondent, but I am here now and will not allow any of you to feel unloved again. You will be my little princess, or prince should you be a boy. I will teach you to ride and show you all the treasures of Pemberley. Will you like that?”
Another kick, but not so demanding, was his reply and he kissed her stomach once more before his eyes met Elizabeth’s. “I love you.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled hoping that all would be well now.
***********
Elizabeth stretched her arms over head, capturing her pillow and hugging it about her ears. The memory of Darcy’s arms wrapped about her brought a smile to her lips.
She heard Katie enter the dressing room and tossed back the counterpane. Her steps carrying her from the bedroom were lighter than they had been in a long time. She felt so much younger, almost sprightly. A giggle escaped her lips.
“Good morning, Mrs. Lizzy.” Katie’s grin fell away. “Mrs. Bingley asked for a moment of your time this morning.”
“Certainly, Katie.”
Elizabeth took her seat at the dressing table, surprising the maid when she took an interest in her appearance. In little time, she was dressed and ready to go below. As she approached the stairs, she saw her sister climbing toward her.
“Oh, Jane, you wished to see me?”
Something was different about Jane’s countenance, about her entire bearing. Her recent joy in her pregnancy had vanished, and the pinched expression brought to mind their encounter at Ramsgate.
“Yes, will you accompany me to my sitting room? I fear my stomach is unsettled this morning and the smells of the dining room have made me ill.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth’s brow furrowed in concern. “I thought your morning illness had passed.” She slipped a hand about Jane’s waist and the other grasped her sister’s hand as she led her down the hall to the mistress’ suite.
Once inside, Elizabeth settled Jane by the fire before ringing for Katie. The maid appeared soon after and Elizabeth ordered a bland breakfast for them both. They sat in silence until the food had been delivered. Once they were alone and their plates set before them, Jane took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Lizzy, if I asked you something, would you tell me the truth?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, Jane, I would never lie to you.” She reached across the short distance and squeezed Jane’s hand. “Have you questions regarding the baby?”
Jane stared at her plate as she shook her head.
“Well then what is it?” Elizabeth asked as she tentatively released Jane’s hand.
“Have you feelings for Mr. Darcy?” The words rushed out and were met with silence causing Jane to look at her sister once more.
Elizabeth struggled as she wondered how to respond. “Feelings?”
“Yes.” When Elizabeth still did not respond, Jane sat taller. “I saw you together, Lizzy.”
The blood drained from her countenance leaving h
er dizzy, and the hand which held her teacup halfway to her lips shook until she had to return it to the saucer. “Where?”
Jane’s eyes widened. “In the library, last night.”
“Forgive me, Jane, I …”
“How could you do this, Lizzy? You are in mourning! Your husband was a man of the cloth.” Jane shook her head. “Do you know what your sins might bring upon our home? Are we to be punished for your transgressions?”
Elizabeth’s eyes were wide as she stared at Jane. “You? How could my sins affect you, Jane? You are all that is good. You have been since you were a small child.”
“Yet I am the one who is punished when one of my family flaunts their disrespect to God and society.” Jane clutched her stomach. “Child after child was stolen from me because my family would not behave respectably.”
“God is not society, Jane.” Elizabeth felt a burning anger clutch her heart. “How can you believe that your miscarriages were caused by the shortcomings of your family? If that were the case, how could any child be born?” She shook her head. “I will not say the distress you felt at the actions of our family did not have an effect upon you which might have led to your losing your children, but it was not because of the presumed sin you declare they committed.” She shook her head once more, more violently. “I cannot and will not believe in such a God.”
“Elizabeth,” Jane reached for her sister. “You must renounce your sins. You have to see that what you feel for Mr. Darcy is wicked. You are a married woman.”
Elizabeth sat taller in her seat, her shoulders drawn back and her countenance severe. “I am in mourning for my husband, Jane. I have dyed every one of the dresses I had made when I carried William, though there were several I favoured and would have liked to keep should I have children in the future. I am doing what is expected of me over a man for whom I held no affection. I have saved our family. The entail is broken, Jane. My son will inherit Longbourn and he will be able to name the heir after him.” Elizabeth paused as she ran a hand over her stomach. “Are you not glad for your sisters? They will not be forced from their home.”
Mrs Collins' Lover Page 38
