At least she had expanded the range of experiences with which she was familiar. She now could claim to know what it felt like to be both very hungry and yet too nauseated to dare eat anything. Not even the toast.
For the past week she’d had very bad morning sickness, casting up her accounts most mornings into a chamber pot or that overly fancy water closet which could be flushed with water at the pull of a string.
A week after Darcy had left for London, matters had reached the stage where Mrs. Reynolds insisted on having the apothecary called. A personable man, and he’d offered a variety of powders that did reduce the nausea. It had been his opinion, as well as that of everyone aware of her symptoms, that the most likely cause by far was that she was with child.
Mrs. Reynolds had afterwards asked her if she had told Mr. Darcy about this, and she had begged the old housekeeper to say nothing of it to her master, as she wished to announce it in person to him. In any case it was not so rare for the courses to resume after a month or two, and as a result her mother never made a to-do of these occasions until she was further along.
The real reason she did not wish to send a letter announcing this to Darcy was that she both was scared that it would draw him home at once — and that he would treat her with coldness, or with demands, or perhaps he would not even come home.
She missed him. She wished to speak with him about what he’d written in his letter. She wanted to discover what theirmarriage might become, now that he knew that she had not come to it willingly. But she was frightened.
What had he meant when he said that he now knew how to act?
He’d sent her no further letters in the two weeks since he must have arrived in London.
An hour or so after breakfast Elizabeth settled sufficiently for a walk. Most days she walked about with Georgiana who had traveled far on the path to being a fervent convert to the habit of long walks.
Of course, unlike Elizabeth, Georgiana was a splendid horsewoman.
Afterwards they practiced together on the piano for an hour after Georgiana’s master came. Then Georgiana privately practiced with him until a late luncheon.
Two letters came in the post for Elizabeth today, one from her father and one from Jane.
Silver tray, placed down before her.
Seeing the manner in which she stared at his letter and knowing of the tension that Elizabeth felt towards her father, Georgiana suggested that she read the letters now, and that they could have their walk after their luncheon instead.
Elizabeth nodded.
Anything could have come from Papa’s pen. Or almost so.
As for Jane, it was a little coincidence that the letters had arrived from the both on the same day. Jane was now in London with the Gardiners, and Elizabeth had received one letter from her since she’d arrived there. It had been more cheerful, but still with a strong tone of melancholy.
Oddly, that had not renewed Elizabeth’s anger towards Mr. Darcy.
Shebelievedhim. He had honestly believed Jane’s heart to be untouched. And she could understand where that beliefhad come from.
Perhaps she was inclined to think kindly of Mr. Darcy because he hadnowexplained himself to her. She’d read and reread the letter from her husband — the one letter that she had received since he left — a hundred times. She’d read it until she could say many passages by heart. She nowunderstoodhim.
But despite her love for Jane, Elizabeth expected to find littlejoyin what she would write.
Despite that, Elizabeth wished to put off reading Papa’s letter. There was still a loud echo in Elizabeth of a girl betrayed in her most serious crisis by a father who she only learned then was not perfect in essentials.
Dear, dear, dear Lizzy!
You shall scarce credit what has happened!
I am to be married to Mr. Bingley!
My joy is nearly complete, and it only misses your presence to make it so.
I can scarcely write, my hand trembles with happiness. A part of me does not believe my happiness, but it is real. We have kissed, held hands, gained Papa’s blessing, and even a date for the happy event has been set. However complete you can imagine my happiness, it is greater.
Given the state of affairs subsisting at the time of my last letter to you, this must be a shock. We had after all had no word of Bingley or the nature of the business that drew him from Netherfield in two months. There was no expectation of seeing him, and while we had called on his sisters upon reaching London, they had not returned the call after a duration of three weeks.
He came to call this evening when we had already sat down to dinner. The servants were shocked and surprised to have a caller, and Sarah tried to stop him from entering, buthe was determined, and would not be gainsaid, and when Mrs. Gardiner went to the door to see what the hubbub was about, she allowed him entry and an interview with me.
The way he looked when he entered the room — oh, I think I shall never forget his hair, his coat, and his eyes. He was quite serious and nervous, but also fatigued and stained with dirt from the road.
