A part of Elizabeth, a small part that had started to grow a little louder over time, wondered if this meant that Mr. Darcy did not in fact admire her, and that he had in truth only married her for the purposes of duty, like he had proclaimed.
At first his injuries and fatigue every evening had been such as to ensure that there was not much mystery about the matter of why Mr. Darcy did not make a clear attempt to exercise his marital rights: He was still ill.
But by now, two weeks after they were married, that excuse no longer held.
Perhaps he was shy. Or perhaps it was simply that her new husband was exactly the opposite in this respect of Mr. Wickham.Hehad been clear and constant in his interest in taking and using every liberty she would give him, and that had continued for a long time after they were married. It had, in fact, been a matter of great concern to her when he ceased to pester her after she became with child the second time.
And the case had proven that Mr. Wickham was in fact seeking female company elsewhere.
If Mr. Darcy had looked at her in a different way, and if he had not been eager to hold her hand, to let her lean against him, and if he had not been so happy to be near her, she would have been far more concerned. As it was, she had found that she was also shy. She simply did not wish to be the first one to suggest the marriage bed. It was, she firmly believed, the husband’s duty.
Longbourn.
The house looked much the same, but her family had changed.
Emotion choked her throat.
Mama, and Papa, and Jane, and Mary—and who were those two girls? They must be little Lydia and Kitty. But they were now full grown, almost women.
Elizabeth hopped out, and Mama ran to her and embraced her. “My dearest, dearest girl! You have married so very well this time! Mr. Bennet told me that he is as good as a Lord.”
Elizabeth felt the beginnings of a red-faced embarrassment at hearing her shout it that loudly, and in front of Darcy. Mamawasmuch as she remembered.
She saw the sardonic amusement in Papa’s eyes. But then she looked at Darcy, and he smiled warmly at her. That warmth went through her again. She really was coming to depend upon him too much.
“Oh, tell me how you managed to catch such a fine gentleman,” Mama said. “Let me see you—you hardly are dressed so richly as I expected.” She looked at Papa accusingly, as if he had not told her the truth about the pin money—that is, the book money—available to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth laughed. “I know, I know. But I wished to have more leisure for deciding exactly what to purchase than was available in the bustle of only being in London for two weeks. We were constantly busy meeting friends, going to plays, seeing the sights of London together, visiting with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner several times—there was not much time to hunt about for new clothes.”
“But lace! You could have simply bought a good helping of fine lace.”
“On a travel dress!” Elizabeth laughed. “I would not dare wear lace during a carriage trip of more than twenty miles. And with George and Emily in that carriage!”
The two children had gone to Papa. George with bold delight, while Emily was shy with her grandfather, even though she had been extremely enthused this morning when she was told that she would see Grandpapa again today.
“You then do have lace? I mean to have many dinners for you while you are here.”
“I look forward to seeing everyone—but I am afraid that I only purchased a little new lace for myself—A great many books, I might decorate myself with them—Papa, I have a few gifts foryou—ah, but I must introduce everyone to everyone. Mr. Darcy, Georgiana, this is my mother, Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn.”
They formally bowed to each other. When prompted Mama’s manners seemed to be perfectly polished.
Elizabeth then turned to her sisters, “This is my eldest sister, Jane.”
“I am really pleased to meet you,” Darcy said.
“And this is Mary.” Another bow between them, and a smile from Darcy.
The two youngest were standing a bit aside whispering to each other, so Elizabeth turned to Jane instead of finishing the introductions and smiled a little confusedly at her. “It has been so long.”
Jane looked more beautiful than Elizabeth had remembered. She was, by the standards of London even, an exceptionally beautiful woman. Seeing Jane felt awkward and odd—Elizabeth had been tight with her once, and at first they wrote frequently. But after Wickham had abandoned her, and Elizabeth determined to hide this from her family, she had barely ever written to any of them.
Her sister gave Elizabeth a shy smile and said, “Lizzy, I am very glad to see you again, and to see you happy.”
Elizabeth impulsively then embraced Jane as tightly as Mama had embraced her. “Jane, Jane, my dear Jane—do say you shall forgive me.”
“About what?”
“For not writing more in the last two years.”
