A Spring Society

by Elizabeth Ann West

  "Confounded leg."

  "Giving you fits today?"

  He sighed. "I was a fool to travel so much this winter."

  Mary winced, but her uncle's hand touched hers to gain her notice. He tsked his tongue much as his wife did over their nieces.

  "Do not feel poorly on my account. It was not your fault I suffered that carriage accident."

  "No, but it was on my account you first traveled to Newcastle and then came to Pemberley, mostly for my benefit," Mary outlined their whirlwind travel plans. Her uncle had traveled north to set her suitor straight about the expectations the family held for him to return and ask for Mary's hand. Richard Fitzwilliam, the second son of the Earl of Matlock and Mr. Darcy’s cousin, erroneously believed his suit not honorable enough for Mary. However, he had miscalculated the lady's interest.

  It had been a happy Christmas where almost the entire family had celebrated Richard and Mary coming to an understanding.

  "Edward—" Mrs. Gardiner walked into the study and startled both her niece and her husband. Sizing up their similar expressions, she sensed the lingering effects of melancholy and her eyes drifted to the pile of letters on her husband's desk, "Oh, the post has arrived." She picked up the letters before Edward could object and handed two to Mary: one from Jane and one from Richard.

  "Dear, I have not yet had a chance to read that letter . . ."

  Mrs. Gardiner frowned as Mary panicked. "They're engaged, Edward. Honestly, what lines do you think he has penned will corrupt our dear Mary? And are we opposed to such corruption?" Her aunt teased the old ways of Mary to read and quote aloud from sermons to the annoyance of those around her. The three occupants enjoyed a short laugh as Mary borrowed the letter opener and broke the wax seal on Richard's letter. Jane's would wait.

  March 15, 1813

  Newcastle upon Tyne

  My dearest Mary,

  I pen these lines acutely aware they will lack the prose and flattery a lady promised to gentleman deserves. But it is late, and I wish to see this leave in tomorrow's satchel for the London offices. I fear you will read more soldierly dispatch than gentleman caller in this missive.

  I regret to inform you that we've had news of the worst sort. As I had written last, Major General Hill toured our camp and lauded the remarkable changes in discipline and military skill my brigade demonstrated. They say no good deed goes unpunished, and I have just been alerted that our battalions have moved up in the list of readiness.

  We are expected to deploy this summer in support of Pemberley himself. . .

  Mary felt as though the room were spinning as her vision blurred on the line of "deploy." She sank into the nearest chair, and her aunt gently pulled the letter from her hands.

  "Oh my heavens, General Fitzwilliam is to deploy. But, who is Pemberley?" Mrs. Gardiner scrunched up her nose as she could not recall any general or commander by that name, the same as Mr. Darcy's estate, in the papers.

  "You must have misread the name."

  Edward Gardiner accepted the letter and read from the beginning. His wife had not been mistaken after all. He read all the way to the end to the part containing Richard's declarations of love and hastily refolded the letter out of embarrassment of reading such private correspondence.

  "Wellesley," Mary said so softly her aunt and uncle could barely hear her.

  "Once more?"

  Mary swallowed the lump in her throat and stared up at her aunt, her eyes brimming with tears.

  "Wellesley," she said, more clearly. "Before Richard and I parted in Derbyshire, we derived a code for some of the sensitive information to pass between us. Pemberley is Wellesley."

  "I still don't understand. I thought Richard was to train units and remain here. The wedding—" Madeline Gardiner began to grow agitated as the ramifications of the news started to sink in.

  "We do not know. . ." Edward began, but Mary interrupted him.

  "No," she said, as she stood. "This was a possibility we discussed. He has sent the letter. I know what I must do."

  "Do? What must you do?" Mrs. Gardiner looked confused, searching for an answer between Mary and her husband.

  Mary tucked Jane's letter into her pocket and asked for Richard's letter from her uncle. "You know, yes? You'll stand by your word?" she asked.

  Edward Gardiner looked away, uncomfortable. Mrs. Gardiner resumed her interrogation.

  "Edward? What is she talking about?"

  Mary nodded to her uncle as a means of dismissing herself from the room. Wringing his hands, he waited until she had closed the door before answering his wife.

  "We all agreed. If Richard was to be deployed and the summer wedding was to be delayed, Mary made me promise..." he trailed off.

  Folding her arms across her chest, an unamused Mrs. Gardiner waited for her husband's explanation.

  "Mary will leave with her maid and go to Newcastle. From there, they will elope."

  "Elope! Heavens, no! We cannot! The Matlocks. . . The Darcys. No one will ever forgive us!" Mrs. Gardiner covered her mouth with her hand to stop chastising her husband and closed her eyes.

  The Bennet family had been through so much since the death of Mr. Bennet in the winter of 1811. It was cruel and unfathomable that they had sent Lydia away to Scotland due to her dalliances with Mr. Wickham. Both Wickham and Lydia were gone now, the Lord be merciful on their souls. And to Mrs. Gardiner’s mind, another scandal might renew interest in the entire sordid affair.

  "There must be another way,” Mrs. Gardiner said, with a determined hope in her tone.

  Mr. Gardiner shook his head. "The Darcys were also aware of the arrangement should the worst happen. He is going to war, Madeline. We cannot deny Mary her happiness when she has already waited this long."

  Indeed, his niece was soon to turn twenty, and he would not parade her around London now that all of the Bennet girls possessed a dowry for a fortune hunter to take advantage. Richard had loved Mary before he knew of her settlement and had refused to lay claim upon it to sell his commission. The second son of the Earl of Matlock was honorable and exciting, the exact remedy needed for his dour niece blossoming into a woman.

  "And your sister? Did she agree to this?" Mrs. Gardiner continued to argue, feeling unhappy such a significant decision was made without her consultation.

  "Fanny? Gracious, no. And I can't say I was in favor of the arrangement, either, my love. But I gave my word," Edward Gardiner emphasized his last statement and his wife sighed before walking toward him to lay her hand on his shoulder.

  "I wish you had told me."

  He shrugged. "I hoped it would never come to pass. It was very unlikely.... but I did wonder when I saw that we declared support for Sweden's claim on Norway."

  Mrs. Gardiner leaned down and leaned her head against his, accepting the one-arm embrace from her husband around her waist as she stood and he sat. "The world has gone mad."

  "A long, long time ago, I'm afraid."

  The white, double doors to Mrs. Darcy's suite opened with little ceremony as her mother bustled in to speak to her daughter. Mrs. Bennet stalked directly over to her second eldest daughter’s vanity as Elizabeth’s maid worked on her hair.

  "I was not aware we should don such complicated styles for a family dinner. Though I suppose you arriving in the dining room is cause for a celebration." Mrs. Bennet managed to criticize not only her daughter's airs of wealth but also show her displeasure that for the last four nights Mrs. Darcy had been indisposed.

  In truth, there had been much pain in Elizabeth's lower back that led to her and her husband deciding she ought to rest. But the more significant source of pain had been the months of hosting such a full house party while expecting her first child. The endeavor wore the mistress of Pemberley to the very edges of her nerves.

  "I believe it looks lovely," Elizabeth said more to her maid than to her mother. Involuntarily, Elizabeth winced as a brief, yet sharp pain seized her abdomen. However, by the time she caught her breath, the pain had dissipat
ed. As she looked into the mirror, her maid's eyes widen, but Elizabeth gently shook her head. The maid nodded, collecting the various combs and brushes she had been using to take them back to the wardrobe. Elizabeth barely lifted her right hand to signal she agreed with the dismissal.

  Turning around on the stool, Elizabeth placed one hand on the vanity to steady herself as she rose. The Empire line of her gown fell elegantly over the clear proof that an addition to the family would not be long off.

  "I asked for you to come—"

  "And I do not appreciate being summoned," Mrs. Bennet interjected to Elizabeth's annoyance.

  Mrs. Darcy repeated herself. "I asked for you to come so that we might have a talk without the interference of others."

  Mrs. Bennet inhaled deeply, excitement causing her to smile. "Of course, of course, you should have come to me much sooner. I have birthed five daughters, after all, and with your time so very near, you must have any number of questions for me." Mrs. Bennet looked around the room with her keen eyes, enviously inventorying her daughter’s suite that was so above her own. Plied with complaints from Alistair, Mrs. Bennet was quickly losing recognition of how much her daughter and Mr. Darcy provided for her. She missed her sweet Jane, and as she was often left out of family discussions, Mrs. Bennet soothed her wounds by agreeing with Alistair on how little the Darcys deserved their enormous wealth.

  Spying an ornately upholstered chair in a fabric of hummingbirds next to the vanity, Mrs. Bennet presumptively took a seat while her expectant daughter stood. Gently shimmying her shoulders as she became comfortable, Mrs. Bennet continued to smile and blinked her eyes many times as she waited for Elizabeth to commence seeking her for advice for the baby.

  "I'm afraid to disappoint you, Mama, but my condition is not the reason I've asked you to visit with me." The sharp pain came again as Elizabeth turned away from her mother and walked a few steps to hide her discomfort. Once more, just as quickly as she registered the odd sensation, Elizabeth could feel it no more. She almost questioned if the pains were real or imagined. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth turned and faced her mother again. "I'm afraid I must ask you to please limit your time with Mr. Darcy."

  "Your husband? Why I have barely seen the man! He has been most devoted to you, I must say. Many new fathers are anxious, but Mr. Darcy, in his care, he is so fastidious! I should think if I were you, I would wish him away for at least a day or two. Tell him to see to some affair on the estate, or an improvement. Men like him are always keen to think about their legacy beyond adding more portraits to the gallery."

  Elizabeth pressed her tongue with force against the back of her teeth as her mother's rudeness no longer came as a surprise. Mrs. Bennet routinely spoke with very little thought but had become measurably more aggravating now that Elizabeth was no longer a child.

  "No, Mama, you misunderstand me. Not my Mr. Darcy. I am speaking about Mr. Alastair Darcy."

  "Oh, Uncle Darcy," Mrs. Bennet spoke the name that Georgiana and Kitty had been instructed to use in addressing Mr. Darcy’s wayward uncle from India and coincidentally, the deceased Mr. Wickham’s natural father. There was little to argue that such a moniker avoided confusion between the two men, but for some reason, the sudden familiarity of a man she and her husband knew so little about rankled the sensibilities of Elizabeth Darcy.

  "Yes, Uncle Darcy." Elizabeth forced herself to say as another sharp pinch began again. This time her mother noticed her discomfort.

  "Have the pains come? Just now your hands, they flew to your—"

  "No, it is much too early. I am well. But we must speak about how it looks with you constantly laughing with him." Elizabeth began to grow angry as another pain came along with a swift kick from the child growing inside her. He seemed not to like the new development either.

  "Laughing? How could I not laugh when he is so devilishly clever? You should listen to him, Lizzie. He has the most wonderful stories about the tea plantations, and I have found…" Mrs. Bennet continued to talk about the best aspects of Alistair Darcy’s conversational skills as Elizabeth slowly walked over to her bed and rested one hand on the mattress to inhale calming breaths.

  The double doors of her suite opened again with haste as both Mr. Darcy, and Mrs. Reynolds entered. Elizabeth looked up with panic on her face, and Mrs. Reynolds walked with great efficiency around her Master who froze in a similar state as his wife. She reached her mistress and calmly placed her hands on Elizabeth midsection.

  "It is too early," Mr. Darcy whispered. But it was his longtime housekeeper who heard the fear of a boy she had watched grow since infancy.

  "Nothing to worry about yet, but let's get Mrs. Darcy in bed." Mrs. Reynolds began to fuss over her mistress as Elizabeth’s maid dutifully fetched a nightgown so that Elizabeth might change her frock.

  "But the pains, I tried to ignore them, but they will not cease." Elizabeth furrowed her brow as Mrs. Reynolds shook her head.

  "And you walked in the gardens today and visited two tenants. It is not yet time, but your body does much to prepare. These will subside if you rest. We shall bring you a tray of tea and something to calm your nerves," Mrs. Reynolds prescribed, as Elizabeth emphatically declined. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet was also present, and she agreed with Mr. Darcy that her daughter needed a drop of laudanum to help her rest.

  "I will not drink it. I shall rest like I have every night this week, but I will not take anything stronger than a draught of chamomile." Elizabeth crossed her arms as her maid had begun unbuttoning her gown, thus halting all progress in getting the very pregnant Mrs. Darcy in bed. Then Elizabeth remembered about the follies. "Will you tell Kitty I am so sorry, but perhaps they could perform tomorrow?"

  "If you agree to rest, I shall handle breaking the news to Kitty. You truly think they are both safe?" Mr. Darcy asked Mrs. Reynolds.

  The older woman clasped both of her hands in front of her and smiled with the pride of her long-term status with the Darcy family. "It is a good sign, sir, with a few weeks left before the babe’s to come, these pains happen. They are signs of a healthy mother and child."

  "We must not bother Mr. Darcy with these things. He need not know until the baby is delivered," Mrs. Bennet spoke of the experiences of her generation.

  "Mama!" Elizabeth said with more emphasis than she wanted as another pain chose the inopportune time to clench her stomach and then release. She unfolded her arms and allowed her maid to finish her work, and she accepted her husband's hand to help her into her bed.

  Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "I appreciate you mean well, Mother Bennet, but I intend to be present for the birth of my child." Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy shared a small smile as they had long decided he would never endure the wait with his anxieties and she wished for his comfort so long as he was able to provide it.

  "Well, I never have heard of such a thing! For all of my babies, Mr. Bennet was in his study where he belonged. It is the work of women, Mr. Darcy." Mrs. Bennet refused to give up her point.

  "Perhaps, sir, we should go and give Mrs. Darcy a chance to relax. It would do no good for her to see you argue. As I said, I do not believe that tonight is the night we may meet the new master." Mrs. Reynolds chuckled and caught Mrs. Darcy’s gaze who mouthed a silent thank you.

  Mrs. Bennet surveyed the room as the maid, housekeeper, her daughter, and her son-in-law, looked to her to keep the peace. She might have flights of silliness, but Mrs. Bennet knew when she was outnumbered. And she held no desire to continue the previous discussion she and her daughter were engaged in before they were joined by Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds.

  "Why don't I go downstairs and inform the Cook of tonight's change of plans?" Mrs. Bennet assigned herself a task.

  Mrs. Reynolds began to say that she would do so when Mrs. Darcy interrupted.

  "That would be an immense help, Mama. And you will remember what I said?" Elizabeth asked earnestly as her maid had discreetly vanished to the wardrobe likely to warn the kitchen staff of an impending visit by
Mrs. Bennet. Cook and Mrs. Bennet rarely saw eye-to-eye on the menu, or the running of the kitchens, or the seasoning of the food. If Elizabeth could manage to enforce a banishment of her mother from the kitchens, she would do so. Instead, Mr. Darcy had increased Cook’s wages.

  "That is such a trifling matter, dear. You have bigger concerns to worry about tonight." Mrs. Bennet more or less dismissed herself leaving only Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds with her daughter.

  "I am a fool. You have warned me again and again that there are too many in this house–" Mr. Darcy began, but Elizabeth hushed him.

  "I am well, Fitzwilliam. As Mrs. Reynolds says, this is all to be expected." Elizabeth reassured her husband as Mrs. Reynolds nodded.

  “You mustn’t task yourself any longer to visit the tenants. I shall ask my aunt and Georgiana to take over that necessity.” Mr. Darcy continued as he stared down at his wife’s hand that he grasped in desperation.

  “If that is what you wish, I believe I can delegate that to them. Please invite Kitty as well,” she added, emphasizing that she would be the one to handle such a task. Seeing to the tenant needs was a domain of her role, and she did not want her husband overtaxed.

  “Of course, the children would love to see her again.” Mr. Darcy smiled down at his wife, the both of them silently remembering how Kitty had written each child’s name on parchment at the estate’s Christmas gathering for the tenant families.

  Feeling a new pain, Elizabeth gritted her teeth and grimaced. "Now, if you do not wish for us to also hire a new cook in the kitchens, you might hurry behind my mother and assist with the changes."

  "Would you like a tray brought up in addition to the tea?" he asked. Elizabeth fervently nodded before he kissed her hand and exited the rooms, hastening to catch up before his mother-in-law could cause too much damage below stairs.

  Finally alone with Mrs. Darcy, the housekeeper asked Elizabeth a few personal questions she would not have been able to answer with either Mr. Darcy or Mrs. Bennet present. As Elizabeth explained there were no other symptoms but the erratic pains, Mrs. Reynolds felt confident in her assessment that these were no more than the false labor pains many a mother endured before cradling a bundle of joy in her arms.