Felicity in Marriage

by Aria Benedict

  So she decided to look for her husband. His chambers were perhaps the most obvious place to find him given his mood when he met her on the path, but some inkling told her the library should be her first destination. On a few occasions in that room he had displayed a particular playfulness—stealing kisses, caresses—never anything too scandalous for fear of discovery by Georgiana or one of the servants. Now that she considered it, she wondered if Fitzwilliam had encouraged them to make themselves scarce.

  Pemberley boasted the most impressive collection of books in the county, a collection that was not only vast but efficiently organized into long rows of high shelves. Lizzy leisurely navigated through the selves, humming lightly, in an attempt to draw out her quarry. She knew her husband was lurking. Upon entering the room she had heard the telltale creaking as he shifted in his chair.

  After a few more moments of faux nonchalance, her patience ran out. She peeked at Darcy from around the corner of a bookcase. He was seated in his favorite chair reading the paper—pretending to read the paper no doubt as she was certain he had already read it that morning.

  “Husband, I cannot very well surrender to your pursuit you if you refuse to chase me.”

  He put down the paper and Lizzy let out a yelp.

  “I’m glad to hear you have not tired of your Mr. Darcy already,” said Mr. Bennet, looking very pleased with himself.

  “Papa!” Lizzy’s face felt enflamed.

  “You might have sent word. A short missive would have sufficed. If you had sent it the day you left it mostly likely would have gotten here before you. The post, I’ve heard, is very efficient,” she said.

  Mr. Bennet simply laughed in reply.

  “I suppose you have brought Mama?”

  “Of course, I could hardly leave her once she knew I intended to visit . . . though the thought did enter my mind.”

  “Mary and Kitty as well?”

  “Oh, yes. Your delightful housekeeper is showing them their rooms as we speak. Our sudden arrival has quite discomposed your staff, I fear. I do hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, not at all,” Lizzy said breezily in an attempt to seem unaffected.

  Her father could tell she did mind, and he thought it a good joke.

  ****

  “Oh, but I do not think pink silk would go very well with Mary’s complexion, I fear it will make her look sallow. She may not be a handsome girl, but we can make the best of it—.”

  “Mama,” Lizzy said scoldingly, though she knew not why she bothered. Her previous scolds had gone ignored. Mrs. Bennet was in a state and nothing could distract her from her planning.

  Lizzy’s morning had not gone at all to plan. She and Darcy had hoped to sneak away for an early walk and then return for a peaceful breakfast, all before their guests had awaked. They had gone downstairs to find Mr. and Mrs. Bennet already taking their morning repast. Hospitality dictated they join them. Lizzy dearly wished she had just stayed in bed.

  Mrs. Bennet was still chattering on. It had been quite a while since she had drawn a deep breath and her complexion was getting rather ruddy. Lizzy wondered idly if it were possible to faint from prattling. One could only hope.

  “And then you will have to order some hot-house flowers, I think. That is the problem with winter balls, isn’t it? The decorating is so expensive, but then you can certainly afford it—.”

  Reddening visage or no, Mrs. Bennet’s chattering capabilities appeared to be endless. Lizzy’s only hope at reprieve was to interrupt her. “Mama!”

  “Gracious, child, there is no need to shout at me. Now, what was I saying—oh yes, I think you should have bouillabaisse at dinner, white soup too, of course—that is expected—but bouillabaisse is so elegant. I know it is in fashion to forgo supper entirely and offer little sandwiches or some such in the refreshment room, but I cannot abide any daughter of mine holding a ball and not offering a proper supper.”

  “Oh, you should have pheasant too. I’m certain your cook can carry it all off with ease. That coq au vin she made yesterday evening—goodness, that was splendid. I know not how you have kept your figure so slight with such delights for dinner. I suppose you are not yet with child—.”

  “Mama!”

  “It is not for lack of trying I should think.”

  “Papa!”

  Lizzy looked to her husband to console her in her humiliation, certain he would be horrified at the impropriety of her parents’ discussion. Darcy, however, was making a good show of perusing the London papers, the small smile tugging at the edges of his lips revealed he was not completely engaged in the task. Dratted man, she thought. No doubt he found her father’s inappropriate humor terribly droll.

  “Jane is already with child, though of course she didn’t say anything about it as it would not be proper.”

  Lizzy was stunned to find her mother knew anything about what was proper.

  “But back to your ball—.”

  “No, Mama, there will be no ball!”

  “Why ever not? Mr. Darcy, I know you do not care for dancing, but you are not opposed to a ball are you?”

  “I will consent to whatever Elizabeth wishes,” Darcy said without looking up from his papers.

  “See, Lizzy, we will have a ball!”

  “I do not want to have a ball so we are not having a ball. We are very retiring here at Pemberley, if you wanted excitement you ought to have stayed in Hertfordshire.”

  Mrs. Bennet sniffed and said very primly, “It almost sounds as though you do not want us here.”

  “I cannot imagine why you would think that,” Lizzy replied sarcasm so thick even her mother could not miss it. For the first time all morning Mrs. Bennet was completely speechless. Lizzy, who had only moments ago had been most desirous of her mother’s silence, now found she could not bear it.

  “How was your journey?”

  Mrs. Bennet continued to look put out.

  “Come now, you’ve told me nothing about it. The roads must have been terrible”

  Mrs. Bennet, never one to miss the chance to enumerate her sufferings, finally broke down, “Oh, it was just awful . . .”

  Lizzy’s distraction proved effective, it was a quarter of an hour before Mrs. Bennet remember the ball.

  ****

  “I would know what has set those fine eyes to sparkling so beautifully?” Darcy asked as he gazed his wife coming up the stairs wearing a triumphant expression.

  “I have talked her down. Now it is to be a small dinner party with some dancing to follow if guests can be persuaded to play. Of course that means Mary will take it upon herself to play, but I think it a great improvement over the proposed ball.”

  Darcy nodded his agreement.

  “All there is to decide now is which of our neighbors are not easily offended or, if they are easily offended, whose good opinion we can do without.”

  Seeing Darcy’s face fall upon her announcement Lizzy said, “Oh, I am sorry.”

  “I’m not worried about the opinions of the neighbors.”

  “Perhaps a little,” he amended under her skeptical gaze. “I am mostly worried about you. You seem unhappy. The timing is not ideal, but I know you to be most attached to your father. I thought you would at least be pleased to have his company.”

  “I am. It is as you say, the timing. I was so looking forward to having some time on our own.”

  “Wanted me all to yourself, did you?” Darcy asked, taking a step towards her and pulling her into his arms.

  She nodded, leaning into his embrace. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Have I been away?”

  “You’ve been hiding from my mother.”

  “I have been entertaining your father. If that is the same thing, it is no fault of mine.”

  “You do not know how fortunate you are.”

  “I believe I do.” His loving gaze implied he knew his good fortune went beyond his escape of Mrs. Bennet.

  “You did not visit me last night.”

  “You
went to bed early. You said you had a headache.”

  “I’d had enough of Mama. You were meant to plead some ailment of your own and follow me.”

  “I shall keep that in mind. You know, you may visit me anytime you wish.”

  “I shall keep that in mind.”

  With that declaration Lizzy nudged her husband backward, directing him to the haven of the music room where she might demonstrate her ardor in relative privacy. Darcy complied, and it was not until some minutes later they were roused from their activities by the opening of the door.

  Lizzy, whose back was to the entry, quickly leaned against the door before it could be opened more than a crack.

  “Hello? Is someone in there?” It was of course Mary who spoke. In the two days since her arrival she had spent nearly every moment with Georgiana’s superior pianoforte. She tried the door again, but was kept at bay by her elder sister’s weight.

  Lizzy was in a state of dishabille that prohibited public scrutiny. After a moment of silent conversation—mostly consisting of frantic hand gestures on Lizzy’s part and raised eyebrows on Darcy’s—it was decided Darcy would distract Mary whilst Lizzy righted her clothing.

  Darcy opened the door, blocking Mary’s view of the room as he did so.

  “Ah, Miss Bennet I’m so relieved to have found you, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “For me?” Mary’s confusion was understandable; Darcy avoided his wife’s younger sisters as much as propriety allowed. He had not the slightest idea how to converse with them, a problem that was much on his mind at the moment.

  “Yes, the orchid in the orangery is blooming, I thought you might want to inspect it,” he said, inventing wildly.

  “I have no particular interest in botany, Mr. Darcy.”

  “You do not? Elizabeth assured me you were a persistent scholar, interested in all manner of subjects.”

  Flustered by the praise and the attention of her brother-in-law who she found rather intimidating Mary stuttered, “Oh . . .well, y-yes . . . I am.”

  “Excellent, shall we go now?”

  To Lizzy’s relief, Mary consented without further objection allowing her to sneak back to her chambers to refresh her hair and wardrobe.

  ****

  If Lizzy had thought the reduction from ball to dinner party would make her mother’s incessant planning any more tolerable, she had been sorely mistaken. Pemberley was sent into a frenzy of activity during the weeks leading up to the event.

  It took a full week just to decide who would be invited. Mrs. Bennet wanted Mary and Kitty exposed to as illustrious of people as possible, certain if they could make the right connections they could find husbands to equal their elder sisters’. Contrarily, Lizzy wanted Mrs. Bennet exposed to as few of her neighbors and friends as possible.

  To say the guest list was odd, was to put it lightly. The invitees ranged from an elderly spinster of a prominent family but degraded financial circumstances, to a wealthy viscount. Despite their differences, Lizzy felt certain none of the guests would object to dining with the others and more importantly all were of a disposition to overlook any silly behavior on the part of her younger sisters and take her mother’s insipid babbling with good humor.

  “I wish you would invite more young men,” Mrs. Bennet remarked multiple times during the guest list making process.

  “I think it would look a bit obvious if we invited only eligible young men to dine. The sexes are supposed to be evenly matched after all,” Lizzy replied. She saw no need to tell her mother she had not invited any eligible young men. It was not that she did not trust her sisters—there had been some improvement in their behavior, no doubt caused by the absence of Lydia’s influence— it was simply that the neighborhood was very lacking in single men.

  The viscount, whom Mrs. Bennet was all a flutter about, was indeed single. He was also a widower of advanced age whose previous marriage had produced an heir—as well as two other sons. He had no intention of marrying again. Lizzy knew to tell Mrs. Bennet this might lessen her mother’s exuberance, but it also might send her into a fit of melancholy and her high spirits were preferable to her doldrums.

  After menus had been debated and the decorations discussed to death, the day of the dinner party finally arrived much to Lizzy’s delight and horror. She was pleased to have it nearly over with, but it had only now occurred to her that she would have to actually be at the party and endure whatever ridiculous behavior her mother displayed.

  As it turned out Mrs. Bennet was not as mortifying as she might have been. Lizzy had had the forethought to put her mother next to Mr. Bellworth, who was somewhat deaf, leaving the rest of the party to assume she was speaking so loudly for his benefit. And while Mrs. Bennet did do a bit of boasting about her two elder, very well married daughters she did not expound as she had on previous occasions, thinking perhaps the dining room of Pemberley illustration enough of the advantageousness of the match.

  The next morning at breakfast Lizzy remarked to her husband with much relief, “My mother did not frighten your neighbors too badly, I think.”

  “I think you mean our neighbors, dearest. I know we have had our differences but I had hoped you were staying.”

  Lizzy was unable to give his quip a proper chuckle, for her mother had just bustled into the room and plopped down upon the chair across from her with much drama.

  “We’re leaving,” Mrs. Bennet declared once she had caught her breath.

  “Leaving?” repeated a stunned Lizzy.

  “Yes, today. As soon as we possibly can.”

  “But why?”

  “You cannot possibly expect us to stay after yesterday evening.”

  “Was the party not up to your standards?” Lizzy asked, growing a little irritated.

  “It was a most pleasant evening to be sure, but hardly what your sisters need.”

  “Need?” Lizzy in her confusion was in danger of being mistaken for a parrot.

  “Yes, need. Young men, Lizzy. Where were all the young men?”

  Mrs. Bennet was speaking again before Lizzy could retort. “Oh, I know it is not your fault. Mr. Bellworth was explaining to me last night that this neighborhood is terribly lacking in young people in general and eligible young men in particular.”

  “It is really no wonder your sister dashed off to London before the Season had even properly begun,” Mrs. Bennet explained turning her attention to her son-in-law. Darcy merely nodded in reply, though he knew this to be not at all Georgiana’s motivation in traveling to London.

  True to her word, Mrs. Bennet was ready to leave Pemberley but a few hours after her astonishing announcement, and a much bewildered Mr. Bennet, Mary, and Kitty were obliged to follow her.

  Lizzy waved the carriage off with much relief and a little regret.

  “You are sad to see them go,” observed Darcy as they returned to the house.

  “I am. But I am also terribly pleased to have you all to myself at long last.”

  “And how shall we spend this wonderfully dreary day?” he asked, his tone suggesting activities of a sensual nature.

  “In the library.”

  “The library,” he repeated somewhat glumly, thinking she had misunderstood his desires.

  “Yes, the library. Though I am happy Papa got a chance to enjoy the collection, I must say, it will be nice to have it all to ourselves with no one to disturb us.”

  It was some time later when the couple was quite involved in their not-so-intellectual pursuits that a sharp rap sounded at the closed library door. Mrs. Reynolds, who had elected to deliver what she knew would be a disagreeable announcement herself, carefully opened the door only enough as to ensure her voice would be heard and said, “Sir, Madam, I am terribly sorry to disturb you, but Lady Catherine de Bourgh has just arrived.”

  The ever-discreet housekeeper closed the door again but not before she heard her master’s despondent groan and her mistress’s irritated voice declare, “It seems we will never have a moment alo
ne.”

  Lizzy’s News

  “Netherfield has let yet again,” Lizzy announced as she scanned her most recent letter from Mrs. Bennet.

  “Mama is disappointed to write that though the new occupant is as perfectly amiable as Mr. Bingley—an exaggeration I’m sure, only one person is as amiable as Charles and she is his wife—while perfectly amiable, Mr. Capshew is also perfectly married though she has yet to lay eyes on the wife—so it all may be a clever ruse to keep the local unmarried ladies at bay.”

  Lizzy’s perusal of the letter was being conducted from the arm of her husband’s chair. She was sharing interesting or perhaps not-so-interesting tidbits from her correspondence as was her habit, and Darcy was enduring it with great patience—albeit little enthusiasm—as was his.

  She knew she ought not to be putting him through this; it had been a long day. They had concluded their week-long visit with Jane, Charles, and the children—Charles especially always made it difficult to leave, he was forever thinking of one thing more that must be said, done, or seen to the point Lizzy was afraid they would have to dash to the carriage without goodbyes in order to make their escape.

  Once they had gotten away, they had spent the rest of the day in the carriage being jostled over weathered roads on the way back to Pemberley. Her taciturn husband no doubt wished for some peaceful solitude, but she had news she really must relay, and it needed to be delivered just the right way to solicit the reaction she desired.

  She knew if she prattled on awhile his attention would wane and she might slip her news in without his notice. It was not that she feared his reaction—no indeed. That he would be pleased she knew with certainty. But she had often wondered if he listened as well as he claimed during these sharing sessions. He was the ideal gentleman in so many other ways, he could hardly be expected to be unerringly attentive as well.

  So she entertained him with Mrs. Bennet’s latest exploits to get her final unmarried daughter to the blissful state of matrimony, while he occasionally murmured something noncommittal just to prove he was listening. As she expounded about whom Mrs. Long’s niece had wed and Mr. Goulding’s new curricle, his eyes began scanning the page of the book he was holding.