by E Bradshaw
“You are not neglectful,” argued Elizabeth; “far from it. I couldn’t be certain of my suspicions for a long while; I only knew that I didn’t feel like myself, and I just didn’t want to worry you.”
“But are you sure that you’re well enough to travel?” Darcy asked with a frown, as he suddenly remembered their plans to depart for Hertfordshire in a few days’ time.
“Yes, Mrs Reynolds has said it should be perfectly fine, in these early months.”
“Then how far along are you, exactly?”
“We think I am in my fourth month of pregnancy, or thereabouts.”
“But how can Mrs Reynolds know for certain how far advanced you are?” asked Darcy with confusion.
Elizabeth blushed once again and looked down at her lap with obvious embarrassment. “I have missed my courses for the last few months,” she mumbled uncomfortably.
“Oh,” Darcy muttered, feeling incredibly foolish.
But then, as the news finally sank in that Elizabeth truly was pregnant and they truly were going to have a baby, he suddenly grinned with excitement. “We’re going to have a baby!” he cried, as he suddenly sprang forward in his seat to wrap Elizabeth up in an enthusiastic hug.
“Yes!” she laughed in a somewhat muffled voice against his chest; “we are!”
Immediately, Darcy recollected that he should now, more than ever, be particularly gentle with her, and so he quickly released her from his tight hold and peered anxiously into her face. “But are you well? Are you happy?” he asked her with a concerned expression.
“I am,” Elizabeth assured him with a tremulous smile, as her eyes glittered with tears. “Though I am a little scared at the same time,” she admitted.
“I’m a little scared too,” Darcy confessed. “But,” he continued, as he pulled Elizabeth from her chair to sit upon his lap and snuggle against his chest, “we will face this new challenge together. I will be here to take care of you, and I know we will be happy.”
Elizabeth didn’t reply, though she nodded against his chest as if to indicate that his words has soothed her. Hugging her closer and feeling anew just how special she was, Darcy placed a gentle kiss on her head as he quietly contemplated this incredible and life-changing news.
Chapter 20
Despite Darcy insisting on regular stops so that Elizabeth could take breaks from the jolting of the carriage, they made good time to Hertfordshire. As soon as they arrived at Longbourn, the three of them were immediately surrounded by Elizabeth’s sisters, all excitedly chattering at the same time as they welcomed them inside. Jane and Charles had visited Longbourn in anticipation of their arrival, and so they were all soon eagerly catching up on one another’s latest exploits. Accordingly, Darcy proudly announced their happy news, while Elizabeth blushed and smiled as her family enthusiastically congratulated them.
In turn, Mary shyly told them more about Mr Richardson, the young clergy man whom she had very recently agreed to marry – though she explained that their wedding would have to wait until Mr Richardson managed to secure a living so they could afford to marry. Jane talked about the decorations and changes that she was making to some of the more outdated rooms at Netherfield Hall, whilst Charles was bubbling with impatience to tell Darcy about the new horse which he had recently purchased. Kitty and Lydia, meanwhile, excitedly told them all about their exploits in London during their recent stay with their Gardiner relations, and in exchange Elizabeth told her sisters all about her new life in Derbyshire.
With so much to catch up on, the family had plenty to talk about throughout the afternoon and later that evening whilst they dined together, though the topic of the mysterious Mrs McRoy never arose between them. Darcy was absolutely certain that Elizabeth would try to broach the topic at some point during their stay, however. At Jane’s insistence, they stayed that night at Netherfield Hall; Darcy had seen the wistful look in Jane’s eyes as they had all chatted about their baby news and so he suspected that she had confidences to exchange with Elizabeth. Fortunately, they did not have to contend with Charles’ sisters, since the Hurst’s and Miss Bingley had but recently removed themselves to Brighton for the summer in the hopes that the Prince Regent and the rest of the royal court would be making a visit there.
After breakfast the next day, the party at Netherfield travelled straight to Longbourn so that the Bennet sisters and Georgiana might all be together once again, and since it was a nice day, they all decided to walk towards Meryton together. Indeed, it was fortuitous for Elizabeth that she didn’t actually have to attempt to bring up the topic of Mrs McRoy in the end, since they happened to encounter the lady herself as they walked through the centre of the little town.
“Mrs McRoy!” cried Lydia in greeting, as she eagerly hastened forward to speak to their neighbour.
Soon, the rest of their party had followed suit and introductions were quickly made between Mrs McRoy and those of the party who had not yet made her acquaintance.
As usual due to his reserved nature, Darcy stood back and quietly studied the lady who had caused so much speculation between him and Elizabeth, and instead of taking an active part in the teté-a-teté, he instead watched as the rest of the party engaged her in conversation. It had been clear from Lydia’s enthusiastic greeting that the lady was well liked by the younger Bennet sisters, as well as being on a quite intimate footing with them, but he also knew that their acquaintance was only of a few months’ duration and so he wanted to be sure that she was a good influence on the family. Mr Bennet was not with them, or else Darcy would have been able to judge for himself how he and his neighbour interacted with one another, and whether or not there was any truth to the speculations that he and Mrs McRoy had grown quite close since he and Elizabeth had last been in the neighbourhood. Nevertheless, he felt that their meeting that day was fortuitous in providing him with an opportunity to discover more about her.
Indeed, his initial impressions of Mrs McRoy were very positive, and he could see why Mr Bennet might like her. Though he knew that it would take more time to know the lady properly, there were nonetheless some aspects of her personality that Darcy could deduce straightaway. Mrs McRoy was a handsome lady of middle years; Darcy guessed that she was about forty years old, or thereabouts, and though she carried herself with a decided air of poise and dignity, she was clearly also very affable with a quick and intelligent wit. She seemed very fond of Jane and the younger Bennet girls, and she was clearly eager to become more acquainted with Elizabeth. And whilst Darcy would normally be somewhat suspicious of a person who seemed overly amiable (his bitter experience of Wickham made it somewhat inevitable), he could find nothing about Mrs McRoy to concern him. The lady herself did not mention Mr Bennet, except to make a polite enquiry after his health, though Darcy was sure from the familiar way that she and the Bennet sisters chatted with one another that Mrs McRoy had become an intimate friend over the space of the last several months.
Darcy knew Mr Bennet’s nature all too well, and he knew that the older gentleman would never waste his time socialising with a person whom he could not respect; nor would he consent to be around anyone who bored him, and least of all someone who didn’t have a sensible thought in their head. Consequently, he guessed that Mrs McRoy could not be a woman of this ilk, or else his father-in-law would not have bothered to establish such an intimate friendship with her. In fact, even as Darcy was coming to such assessments in his private thoughts, Mrs McRoy’s eyes flashed knowingly in his direction. Darcy saw a great deal of Intelligence in her sparkling green eyes; her look said that she knew very well that he was evaluating her, but she didn’t seem at all perturbed or even surprised by the knowledge. Indeed, she actually smiled at him as if she understood his reasons for doing so and was forgiving him for his suspicion. In truth, Darcy was a little taken aback; there were not many women of his acquaintance who had the courage to look boldly into a man’s eyes in such a way, but he realised in that moment that Mrs McRoy was a woman who was confident in her own
skin – and she wasn’t about to be intimidated by any appraisal by him.
In fact, Darcy realised with a jolt of recognition that the boldness of her look reminded him a great deal of Elizabeth. He realised suddenly that his wife and Mrs McRoy would likely find that they actually had a great deal in common, and once they had become more acquainted (something which Darcy was now more than certain would occur), the two of them would likely get on very well with one another. His mind now comfortably set at ease on the subject of the now-not-so-mysterious Mrs McRoy, Darcy made a conscious effort to be more affable towards the lady and to join in with the conversation going on around him. Nevertheless, he planned to tease Mr Bennet on the subject of Mrs McRoy whenever he could; his father-in-law was certainly due for some needling, he decided roguishly – and especially since he had been so merciless in goading him and Charles in the past.
*****
In fact, his opportunity for teasing Mr Bennet came around a lot sooner than he might have assumed, though in the event Darcy did not take the opportunity to do so since his father-in-law appeared really rather upset when he next encountered him. They returned from Meryton, and whilst the rest of the group retired to the sitting room to take some tea, Darcy walked down the hallway and knocked on Mr Bennet’s study door in order to pay his respects. If truth be told, Darcy had every intention of pulling his father-in-law’s leg a little, but his first clue that such provocation wouldn’t be welcome was when he knocked on the door and Mr Bennet barked angrily at him to enter. Darcy was a little concerned at first that Mr Bennet could be angry with him for some reason, though he quickly realised as he entered the room that the source of Mr Bennet’s anger was in fact a letter which he gripped tightly within his hand.
“There!” Mr Bennet cried, as he thrust the crumpled letter into Darcy’s hand; “read this nonsense, if you will!”
“What is it?” asked Darcy, feeling no little amount of surprise at his father-in-law’s uncharacteristic anger.
“A letter from that damned fool, Collins!” Mr Bennet huffed. “He writes to tell me that he’s heard of my friendship with a ‘certain lady in my neighbourhood’ – most probably from those nosy gossipmongers at Lucas Lodge – and he thinks it is his duty to inform me that I must not make a fool of myself! I can hardly believe the bare-faced audacity of the silly little man! He scolds me as if I am a child!”
Darcy took the offered letter and cursorily scanned over its contents, quickly skipping over Mr Collins’ usual rambling nonsense to get to the crux of the message – a self-righteous lecture which he had obviously felt was vital enough to impart to his cousin as a matter of urgency. It was easy enough to see through Mr Collins’ motives; he had obviously heard through his Lucas relatives that Mr Bennet – the cousin whom he was set to inherit an estate from upon his death – had been seen frequently enjoying the company of one of his female neighbours. Clearly, Mr Collins was deeply alarmed at the prospect that Mr Bennet might marry again – and thus potentially beget the male heir that he was currently lacking. Consequently, Mr Collins had written to condemn his cousin’s behaviour in the strongest possible language and most patronising of ways – and after reading the letter through to its conclusion, Darcy could easily understand why his father-in-law was so worked up.
Even so, he hated to see Mr Bennet looking so upset, and especially because it was so out of character for him to allow the petty gossiping of his neighbours to get him down. Indeed, Darcy suspected that the reason that Mr Bennet was so agitated over something which he would typically have laughed off was because there was more than a little truth to the rumours that had been reported to Mr Collins. Aside from the natural feelings of resentment that any man would feel to be gossiped about by his neighbours and lectured to by his younger relation, Darcy suspected that Mr Bennet was also experiencing an unjustified feeling of guilt.
Throwing the absurd letter down upon Mr Bennet’s desk with a gesture of disgust, Darcy turned to address his father-in-law with a no-nonsense look upon his face. “What do you care what Mr Collins thinks – or anyone else for that matter?” he asked bluntly. “People will always gossip; let them get on with it, if they must, but don’t let their foolish speculations about your private life upset you. It only matters what you think; what you feel.”
“But it matters what my girls think,” countered Mr Bennet gravely. “It matters what Agnes would have thought of this,” he added quietly; “of me befriending another woman and enjoying her company as I have.”
“Is this why Collins’ letter has upset you so much?” demanded Darcy with a snort of derision. “Come now; you’re not the sort of man to let a fool like Collins upset you so easily!”
But Mr Bennet only shrugged at this and regarded Darcy with a despondent look. “This thing with Mrs McRoy,” he began hesitantly, “it’s only a friendship; in truth, I haven’t allowed myself to think of anything more. Frankly, I’ve felt too ashamed of myself,” he sighed.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, or to anyone else for that matter, and you’ve absolutely nothing to feel guilty for,” countered Darcy forcefully. “It’s natural that you would feel lonely; that you would wish for some sort of companionship beyond that of your daughters. After all, it will not be many more years before they have all left home, and so you have a right to consider a future for yourself, just as much as anyone else does.”
“You are generous to defend me as you do, Fitzwilliam, but I don’t know if I can truly be absolved so easily.”
“Of course you can!” countered Darcy impatiently. “Think of this situation in reverse; if you had died, instead of your late wife, wouldn’t you have wished for her to have been happy if she had been in your place, and if she had had the chance to find happiness with another? Even if that meant her marrying again?”
“Well, yes, of course I would,” replied Mr Bennet. “But I still don’t feel as though that absolves me.”
Darcy sighed aloud but resisted the urge to roll his eyes in impatience at his father-in-law’s wilful self-flagellation, and instead he decided to try a different approach. “We met her just now in Meryton,” he said bluntly; “this neighbour of yours whom Mr Collins’ thinks to warn you away from. Truly, I can see very well why you like her, and why the two of you would get on so well together.”
Mr Bennet looked surprised by this revelation, though he stood quietly and said nothing as Darcy continued.
“Your girls seem to like her too,” he added. “Even Elizabeth, who I can tell you had a few doubts about meeting this mysterious neighbour of yours whom she’d heard so much about. In fact, within the space of a short conversation, Mrs McRoy seemed to have won her over, for the two of them were soon laughing together over something that had clearly amused them.”
Mr Bennet’s eyebrows rose a little higher at this disclosure, though Darcy could see that he looked a little less guilt-ridden than he had before. “I’m pleased to hear they got on,” he murmured, as he turned and sat down heavily in his chair. “Truthfully, I’ve been quite concerned about what Lizzy would think of me. I know that the rest of my girls seem to like Mrs McRoy; Kitty and Lydia are easy enough to please with advice on fashion, and especially when they’re given lots of attention. Mary has enjoyed having an older woman around to discuss her education with, whilst Jane – well, Jane likes anyone who crosses her path, as you well know,” he finished wryly. “But Lizzy is more discerning, and I was worried that she would somehow think less of me for forming a friendship with a woman who was not her mother.”
Darcy could tell that it was this issue, more than anything else, that was the real crux of the matter. Understandably, Mr Bennet had been enraged and offended by Mr Collins’ patronising lecturing, but in Darcy’s opinion, it was not that which had most troubled him. Instead, it was the self-imposed guilt which Mr Bennet clearly felt at the idea that, by forming an intimate friendship with this woman, he was somehow letting both his late wife and his daughters down in some way. Evidently, Mr Benn
et had been castigating himself with guilt over the issue for some time, and thus he was (at least, in Darcy’s view), running the risk of ruining his own potential future happiness by shutting the door on what could otherwise be a second chance at happiness.
“Now look here,” Darcy said in a forthright tone as he took a chair near his father-in-law; “I can plainly see that you have been worrying about what your daughters might think of you for forming this friendship, and for thinking of a future that might include this lady – but I really don’t think you need to be so anxious. In my opinion, you worry too much – and if you would only talk openly with your daughters about your concerns and your hopes, then I’m quite sure that you would be comforted by their responses.”
“What?” guffawed Mr Bennet with a look of disbelief; “you think I should actually ask them what they think of me marrying again?”
“Yes,” stressed Darcy. “I have no doubt that your daughters only want you to be happy – and if Mrs McRoy is the woman who will make you so, then I know full well that they would urge you to ignore your neighbours’ foolish gossip and do whatever you can to secure that happiness.”
Mr Bennet stared at Darcy with a look of utter astonishment for a long moment, almost as if he were considering his suggestion and was playing out the scenario in his mind of having such a discussion with his daughters. Then, just as quickly, the hopeful look faded from Mr Bennet’s face and he shook his head as if he were dismissing such a notion as being nothing but fanciful nonsense. “You are very kind to bolster my hopes,” he said sadly, “but it is sheer foolishness. What am I thinking? I’m two years past fifty, for God’s sake! Surely I’m much too old to be considering marriage again!”
“Why are you?” countered Darcy. “Fifty-two is not old, by my reckoning. And if you have affection for this lady, and you think that she could make you happy whilst being a good role model to your youngest girls, then why would you dismiss such a notion so quickly? There must be something about this lady that has captured your imagination, or else you wouldn’t feel so conflicted.”
