Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth

by Greer Boyd

  “‘I thought the same thing,’ stated Lizzy, as she entered the study, surprising Mary, my aunt and myself. She had little Thomas with her. Holding her baby close so that she could softly kiss the top of his head, she murmured: ‘I went to feed him, but the wet nurse had already gone before me. This is the first time that I have been with him since earlier this morning. I know that I should not have taken him from his crib, but I had to hold him and know that he was safe.’

  “Lizzy had wrapped him in a brightly coloured and embroidered green blanket, the colour of new grass in the springtime. As I looked at that splash of colour in a sea of black bombazine, I realized what she had done. She had brought us a glimmer of hope and joy.”

  Just as Jane was about to finish her story, Elizabeth moved her head slightly, then started to thrash about, throwing her arms around wildly as she screamed, “Wickham,” before falling back into unconsciousness. Jane quickly sought Elizabeth’s hand and gently closed hers over it.

  “Lizzy, can you hear me? It is Jane. Oh, please, wake up, Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth did not move or respond. After many minutes, Jane released her sister’s hand and sat back in her chair while she scanned the wan face.

  After a while longer, Georgiana solemnly asked, “Jane, what happened to Lydia?”

  Jane turned to face her and simply said, “She died four days later.” Looking back at the sleeping form in the bed, she continued, “I guess Lizzy and Mary were right. She did not want to wake up.”

  Georgiana responded quietly, almost to herself, “I do not know if I would have wanted to wake up either, had that happened to me.”

  Jane nodded, “I said that very same thing one time, but Lizzy told me to think of what a triumph it would have been had she lived and embraced life instead of slowly fading away, to know that you had the character, the fortitude to live and face life.”

  Lifting her head and pushing against the seat of the chair, Georgiana rose to leave the room. “I will have Mrs. Wyatt send up a cold tray with some more hot tea, since we all missed dinner,” she said softly, “and then show you to your room so that you can rest. It is right next door, so you are not far away if you are needed, and you can come to Elizabeth at any time you see fit.”

  As Mrs. Wyatt hurried toward the kitchen, Georgiana headed straight for her study, where she sat down at the desk, took two sheets of paper from the center drawer, and wrote the same message on both.

  Elizabeth Mills was injured by George Wickham earlier today before he was killed by military guards from the Army Home Office. She is at Darcy House and has been unconscious since the incident and remains so. Knowing that you are both long acquainted with her, I felt that I should let you know.

  Georgiana

  One envelope was addressed to her Aunt Eleanor and delivered that evening by one of the Darcy footmen to Matlock House only a few streets away. The other, addressed to her cousin Lady Anne de Bourgh, was sent immediately by express rider to Rosings Park in Kent.

  ∞∞∞

  Early the next morning, when little Anne Elizabeth walked from the nursery hand-in-hand with her nurse, she made it quite plain she did not want to go down the stairs to her father’s study as she did almost every morning.

  Darcy loved his daughter very much and encouraged the nurse to bring her to him first, when he was at home, at any time she was taken from the nursery. Today, however, her curls bounced as she shook her head fiercely at the stairs and peered searchingly down the corridor toward the guest wing.

  Georgiana had just come from her bedchamber after refreshing herself and was only a few steps behind when Anne Elizabeth again asserted her will. Always encouraging of anything that her little niece wanted to do and curious to see exactly where she wanted to go, Georgiana directed the nurse to allow her exploration. Anne Elizabeth walked directly to Elizabeth’s bedchamber and placing her little palm on the door, turned bright eyes up at the nurse and insisted, “In.”

  Georgiana knew that Jane was with Elizabeth, and, not wanting to cause her any upset, she opened the door slightly and inquired, “Jane, do you mind if my niece comes in? I know that it is highly unusual, but she walked specifically to this door and said ‘In.’”

  Jane looked at Georgiana’s face and could easily read the distress there. “No,” she replied, “I do not mind at all.” As she opened the door fully, Anne Elizabeth scurried to the side of Elizabeth’s bed, raised her arms high into the air, and cried “Up.” Behind her, Georgiana’s Aunt Eleanor, Cousin Anne, and Anne’s companion, Miss Lucas, arrived at the open door.

  “Georgiana,” exclaimed Aunt Eleanor, “what is this child doing here?”

  Georgiana was quite surprised by the appearance of the women so soon after her messages had been sent. As a matter of fact, she had suspected that her aunt would come quickly, but she was shocked to see her cousin Anne, who traveled very infrequently because of her health.

  In a tone that she fiercely hoped was welcoming, but feared was also defensive she answered, “Anne Elizabeth walked specifically to this door and said ‘In,’ then walked to the bed and said ‘Up.’ She has been holding her little arms in the air wanting to be lifted onto the bed since she was allowed to enter.”

  Then turning to Jane, she added, “Jane, do you mind if I lift Anne Elizabeth so that she can see who is in the bed?”

  “No, not at all . . . Elizabeth loves children, and I am sure that she misses her son, Thomas,” answered Jane, glancing from Georgiana to the other women standing in the doorway.

  When Georgiana lifted the child so that she could see the form that lay in the bed, the little girl reached for Elizabeth and cried, “Mama.”

  Georgiana gently explained, “Anne Elizabeth, this is Mrs. Elizabeth Mills. She has been hurt and will be staying here for a few days.” With no hesitation, the child simply struggled to lean even closer to the bed, and plaintively cried again, “Mama.”

  “No,” Georgiana stated again, “this is Mrs. Mills.” But the child only struggled harder, now squealing, “Mama . . . Mama.”

  Jane, sensing the escalation of the child’s agitation, quickly responded, “Georgiana, I would not mind if you allow her to sit on the bed. It may do Elizabeth some good. She always keeps little Thomas with her as much as possible.” She then looked meaningfully, nodding her head, to Georgiana and then beyond to the young woman’s aunt and cousin, to let them know as well that she was in full compliance with the child’s continued presence.

  No sooner had Georgiana positioned the child on the edge of the bed than, in a flurry of curls and bows, she scrambled over to Elizabeth’s side, snuggled in close, and threw her little arm over Elizabeth’s breast. Now satisfied, she crooned again, “Mama,” as everyone in the room looked from one to the other, not knowing what to make of the unusual situation.

  Darcy, having heard Anne Elizabeth’s squeals, had arrived just in time to see his daughter embrace Elizabeth’s body. “Georgiana? What is this?” he asked.

  But, just as he spoke, Elizabeth slowly turned and gently pulled the little girl closer, whispering, “Mama is here, Darling.”

  The silence in the room would have been oppressive were it not for the comfortable and satisfied cooing coming from Anne Elizabeth. Jane recovered first. Looking from Georgiana to Darcy she could only say, “Mr. Darcy . . .”

  “Please call me William,” stated Darcy firmly, without taking his gaze from his daughter and Elizabeth.

  “William,” Jane started again, “I think it would be a good idea to bring Elizabeth’s son to her. It appears that she misses him, and it may help her to recover more quickly. Little Thomas is about the same age as Anne Elizabeth, and I can have his nurse come along so that he would be as little trouble as possible.”

  Darcy seemed to be mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him. He found it exceedingly difficult to look away from Elizabeth, as she enfolded his daughter to her body. He felt an almost overwhelming desire to go to the bed and kiss both of them on the forehead. But
before his feet could give action to his desire, Georgiana’s half-heard question started to cut into his train of thought.

  “What was that, Georgiana?” asked Darcy.

  “Brother. Could you and Mr. Bingley bring Elizabeth’s baby here?” Georgiana repeated. “I am sure that with a note from Jane, his guardian would release him to you.”

  “His guardian,” offered Jane as she smiled, “is my Aunt Lilly Gardiner, and, under the circumstances, I am sure that she would not object to his coming at all.”

  “Lilly Gardiner?” Aunt Eleanor and Cousin Anne asked in chorus, incredulity lacing their tone.

  “Yes, do you know her?” Jane asked, more than surprised that the two women before her would know both her sister and her aunt personally.

  “Indeed,” offered Aunt Eleanor, “we are long acquainted. Darcy, could you have Mrs. Wyatt prepare another guest chamber for Mrs. Gardiner?”

  Not at all surprised by his aunt’s request of his staff or of his home, Darcy smiled, “I will see to it immediately. Jane, if you will write your letter, your husband and I will deliver your aunt and the child as soon as may be.”

  Georgiana’s face reddened slightly as she realized that she had yet to formally introduce her aunt, cousin, and her cousin’s companion. Hands clasped tightly at her waist, she cleared her throat and pronounced, “Mrs. Jane Bingley, I would like to introduce you to my Aunt Eleanor Fitzwilliam, Lady Matlock; my cousin Lady Anne de Bourgh; and my cousin’s companion, Miss Lucas. Aunt Eleanor, Cousin Anne, Miss Lucas, may I introduce you to Mrs. Jane Bingley, sister of Mrs. Elizabeth Mills and wife of Charles Bingley.”

  Jane practically ran to Charlotte Lucas and threw her arms around her. “Charlotte,” she exclaimed, “it is so good to see you again.” Then turning to the other ladies, she explained excitedly, “Charlotte grew up at an estate not far from ours in Hertfordshire, and we are long acquainted. She and Elizabeth have always been the best of friends.”

  “Indeed, we have,” Charlotte nearly cried, as she gently held Jane at arms’ length to get a better view of the young woman now standing before her.

  “Mrs. Wyatt,” asked Georgiana, “would you bring some tea?” Then, turning to the young maid sitting quietly in the corner, she continued, “Sarah, thank you for your vigilance during the night. Please go to your bedchamber and rest yourself, you may be needed again tonight.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” replied the maid quickly, as she stood, curtsied, and then left the room by way of the servants’ stairs.

  Although the maid had been privy to all that had been said since Elizabeth Mills’ arrival, Georgiana had no fear that anything Sarah had heard within the walls of Darcy House would become public knowledge. The Darcy servants were in a “class unto themselves.” They had always been paid a fair wage, above what was the norm, and treated with utmost respect. The result was servants of longstanding who performed an above average service and could not be bribed to divulge anything that might happen involving the Darcys in residence or their extended family.

  Many had tried through the years to find little tidbits of information but without success. The servant would simply go to Mrs. Wyatt or to Mrs. Reynolds and report who had been seeking information. That name was then quietly passed on to the house steward, who would let Darcy, or his father before him, know the nature of the information sought and who had been inquiring. The inquirer soon found that he or she was no longer invited to dinners, balls, or any of the other functions given by the Darcy or Fitzwilliam families.

  The guest bedchamber where Elizabeth now lay was one of the largest in Darcy House, so there was plenty of room to seat six women, plus Mrs. Wyatt if she so desired, and a maid. A small table was brought into the room and set close to the arrangement of the chairs to be used by the maid whenever tea or food was brought into the room in such quantity that the bedside table was insufficient.

  This was just such an occasion. With the other four women comfortably seated around Elizabeth as she lay on the bed holding Anne Elizabeth, Georgiana and a young maid prepared the tea for everyone. Aunt Eleanor and Cousin Anne began to tell how they came to be acquainted with Elizabeth Mills and had begun corresponding with her and how they had soon drawn Amanda into their “circle” of correspondence as well.

  Jane was more than a little interested, as Anne de Bourgh and Eleanor Fitzwilliam began to intertwine their stories.

  “Mama, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had always wanted me to marry Darcy, and that was all that either of us had heard all through our life from the time that we were small children,” Anne began.

  “Through the years, both Anne and Darcy had spoken to me and their Uncle James about my sister-in-law’s obsession with their marrying,” volunteered Aunt Eleanor, “but neither one wanted to marry the other, and each wholeheartedly wished the other well.”

  Anne elaborated, “Darcy had always spoken about marrying for love, and I knew that my health prevented me from ever marrying at all.” As she looked at little Anne Elizabeth snuggled so closely to Elizabeth’s body, the others in the room followed her eyes. “I know that if I were ever to marry, my health is so poor that I would surely die in childbirth even if I were somehow miraculously able to conceive.” Then, extending her hand to gently touch Jane’s very extended abdomen, she conceded, “and, if I could not have a child, there was no point in marrying.”

  “When Lady Catherine had learned that Darcy was to marry Lady Amanda Dove instead of her daughter Anne, she went quite literally insane,” continued Aunt Eleanor succinctly.

  “Mama had taken the loaded pistol from where it had always been kept in the corner of her writing desk drawer and had ordered that her carriage be made ready to carry her to Pemberley where she would shoot Darcy,” explained Anne. “It took four burly footmen to wrestle the gun from her hand and confine her to her room, while I had the doctor summoned.”

  Aunt Eleanor gently squeezed Anne’s fingers, a look of obvious affection softening her face as she remembered. “Since her twenty- fifth birthday, Rosings Park, the de Bourgh estate in Kent, had actually belonged to Anne according to her father’s will. For the last four years officially but quietly and for very many years before unofficially, Anne has taken over the management of Rosings Park from her mother.

  “Both she and her mother’s steward knew that Lady Catherine’s mental health had been diminishing over the years.”

  Anne agreed, “Most of Mama’s friends died many years ago, and those few who remain have been driven away by her disdainful air of superiority and her continual droning away about the marriage of Darcy and me, and the joining of our two estates.

  “Although I admit that my health remains very tenuous, I was excited by and most overjoyed with Darcy’s marriage. It had finally freed me from Mama’s domineering control and had given me the much desired opportunity to be on my own, so to speak.”

  “While she was still just a girl,” said Aunt Eleanor as she released the younger woman’s hand to balance her teacup and the small scone she had chosen, “Anne had started to learn more and more about running the estate and its finances prior to the death of her father, Lord Lewis de Bourgh, the Earl of Rosings.”

  Daintily dabbing the corners of her mouth with the serviette, she looked first at Jane and then at Georgiana and continued: “Before his death, Lewis de Bourgh had requested that his steward continue to train Anne without her mother’s knowledge. Being frequently in ill health, Anne had ample opportunity to read books on virtually every topic: histories, plays, poetry, politics, and finance. She even studied crop reports and new farming methods, many of which she had enacted with the cooperation of her mother’s steward.”

  Charlotte turned her head to look at the elegant lady sitting beside Anne. “Lady Eleanor, what you have told me of Anne is in some ways very much like Elizabeth.”

  Anne covered Charlotte’s hand with her own and nodded, looking directly at her listeners. “As a child under my father’s direction long before his death and then la
ter through his solicitor, I had begun to invest the fortune that was to come to me upon his death along with a large portion of my allowance money in mining and mills, and also in importing and exporting mainly through Gardiner Shipping, the company owned by Edward Gardiner, Jane’s uncle.”

  Georgiana and Jane exchanged glances as she continued, “I have since that time continued the practice with the monies brought in by Rosings Park annually as well as the returns from my other investments.”

  With obvious pride, Aunt Eleanor added, “Outside of the wealth of Rosings Park, Anne has accumulated quite a large fortune of her own.”

  Charlotte directed her gaze to where her friend lay, “Elizabeth had always told us how she had sent what little money she received to her Uncle Gardiner for him to invest. Jane, I believe that you sent some of your allowance as well.”

  Jane looked at her friend and gave her a slight smile, “I did, but I must admit I was never as diligent as Elizabeth.”