“Does that make you more or less willing to accept her apology?”
“I fully intend to accept her apology now that she has offered it. I can do no less,” Elizabeth replied. “However, I cannot be as certain I would invite either of my parents into my life again. How would my mother react to Alex? How would Papa? If I have a girl, how will they treat her? Will they favour one of my children over another?” Elizabeth paused for several moments before she began again. “I learned many lessons in parenting from my parents, and nearly every one of them are behaviours I would not wish to emulate. What kind of grandparents would they be if they were such terrible parents? They seem to be aware of the mistakes they made with my sisters and me, but how will they remedy them? What will happen when Lydia is finished with school and returns home? Kitty is content to remain here in London, but will they attempt to persuade her to return to Longbourn so they can make up for all the ways they have been terrible parents? I have so many questions that I would like to ask them, but then, that would require me to be in their presence again, which is something I am not ready to do.”
“Give it time, Elizabeth,” her aunt advised. “You do not have to decide today. Let me read what you have written, and I will offer advice if I have any. I think you are correct to go slowly, and I recommend that you write to them for some time before you even consider seeing them again.”
“Once we leave London, we will not return for some time. We will not be returning in the autumn, at least, we will not if it is as we suspect and I am again with child,” Elizabeth replied, her voice trailing off as she spoke of their suspicions.
Her aunt’s face broke into a wide smile. “That is wonderful, Lizzy. Iconfess I had suspected, seeing how emotional you were, and, well, there were other small indications, but I had not wanted to say anything. Do you know how far along you might be?”
“I have missed my courses for two months in a row. I expect to feel the quickening sometime in July if I am indeed with child,” Elizabeth said. “However, William and I are cautious not to speak of it too much. We … we believe I may have lost a child around Christmas. I had missed my courses for one month, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, I began to bleed rather heavily. It lasted longer than usual, and when I consulted with Mrs Reynolds, she expressed concern that I may have miscarried. We had only begun to suspect …” Elizabeth broke off as tears filled her eyes.
Darcy and Gardiner returned to the room just then. He immediately went to his wife and knelt in front of her. “What is it, dearest?” he asked, taking her hands in his. “Are you well?”
“I am well, my love,” she reassured him. “I was merely speaking to my aunt about”—she paused to breathe deeply—“I was telling my aunt about the loss we experienced at Christmas. We have spoken about it to so few, and I know my aunt would understand.”
He pulled her into his embrace. “You are well?” he asked again, feeling her nod against his chest. He also felt her tears as they wet the front of his shirt, and continued to hold her until she pulled back. They nodded at each other in silent communication before they both turned to the older couple. Darcy had already spoken of these things to Gardiner on another visit, as he had needed to speak with another man about their loss and had not felt he could speak to his uncle about the matter.
“What have you and my wife decided to do about your parents, Lizzy?” Gardiner asked after the Darcys seemed to have recovered and all four were seated. Darcy and Elizabeth were on the settee, his arm draped around her shoulders as he gathered her into his embrace. The Gardiners were inclined to overlook this breach of propriety within the family party because it was obvious that Elizabeth needed the comfort of her husband for this conversation.
“I will write them both, or rather, we will each write to my parents,” she said, turning slightly to look at her husband. “However, I am notready to see them and am not certain when, or if, I will ever be ready to be in their presence again. It will take considerably more than just one letter to persuade me to allow them in my life and even more to allow them around my children. I … I would not want my children to experience what I did; I will not allow them to overlook one child while favouring another. As I said to my aunt, what I learned from my parents was hownotto parent my child, and I have little faith they will be better as grandparents.”
“That is a harsh assessment, but I believe it may be warranted in this case,” Gardiner replied after a moment. “Your mother was frequently difficult and rather harsh in her assessment of you, and your father was indolent and permitted your mother far too much latitude without being willing to correct her. They are both finally aware of their failings, but that does not mean they have tried to remedy them, as they are still allowing you and your husband to care for their unmarried daughters. Darcy told me the letters you received offered an apology for their poor decisions but did not make any overtures towards restoration.”
Elizabeth nodded. “No, nothing was said about any visits between us and them, not that I would be inclined to do so regardless. Kitty did not indicate that her letter from Mama suggested she return home.”
Mrs Gardiner agreed. “You are correct. Kitty was so surprised by the letter she asked me to read it to confirm that it truly said what she thought it did, and it mentioned an apology but nothing about Kitty returning home. She mentioned at least twice that Kitty should ‘take every opportunity to enjoy herself’ while in London.”
“I wonder if any other of my sisters have received a letter,” Elizabeth asked. “It is too soon for us to have heard from Mary, but a letter could have arrived from Lydia by now, and Jane is here in town. Do you think she wrote to either of them, or did she only write to the middle daughters she overlooked?”
“Jane has not visited of late—she is growing closer to her confinement and has been rather miserable as London has grown warmer. Unfortunately, she is already miserable, and she still has several months to go, and the heat and smell in London will only worsen,” Mrs Gardiner said.
“It is a shame that Pemberley is too far away for Jane to travel there.I would suggest Rosings, but I would not want to impose on Richard so soon after his marriage,” Darcy said. Shortly after Mary’s wedding, Mrs Martin, who had served as both governess and companion to all three of the youngest Bennet girls at various points, resigned from that position. No one in the family was surprised when, shortly after that occurred, Richard Fitzwilliam, the Master of Rosings, proposed to Mrs Martin and was accepted. While Lord and Lady Matlock had initially protested the connection, when faced with their son marrying a gentlewoman who had briefly been in service to him not marrying at all, they chose to support the marriage. That marriage had occurred earlier in the year in a private ceremony at Matlock House. The Darcys had not been included in the guest list, mainly because Richard had been impatient and unwilling to wait any longer to make the widow his bride.
Mrs Gardiner promised to send a note to Jane to ask, and she and Elizabeth planned to call on her soon. Elizabeth had visited Jane on occasion since they arrived in London, but the demands on Elizabeth’s time frequently made these visits difficult. The two couples opted to change the topic away from the Bennets and began to discuss the Gardiners’ plans to visit Pemberley again this summer. Gardiner was starting to contemplate purchasing an estate of his own and hiring a manager to run his businesses to give him more time to spend with his family. Darcy offered assistance, and the two cheerfully discussed possibilities, with their wives providing additional input.
Chapter Thirty-Three
It was another week before Elizabeth posted a response to either of her parents. She did eventually write, in essence, what she had expressed to her husband soon after reading their letters. She accepted their apologies and thanked them for finally accepting their role in the break between the families; however, she was unwilling to make any additional overtures towards them. To that end, she kept her responses brief and straightforward—accepting the apologies but going no further.
In the meantime, Elizabeth and her aunt had called on Jane, learning a few things of particular interest. One, they discovered that Jane had also received a letter from their mother, less apologetic in tone but making it apparent that the matron had finally reflected on her treatment of her daughters and the havoc that wreaked upon the family. Although Jane had been a favourite, Mrs Bennet apologised for pushing her so hard in the direction of any eligible gentleman and for her lack of excitement when she had made a good match. Mrs Bennet told Jane she had been disappointed her ‘most beautiful daughter’ did not make as good a match as her least favourite and was upset that the Darcys’ marriage would always outshine the match of the eldest. The matron recognised the damage those words and feelings caused, acceptingresponsibility for the distance between the matron and her eldest daughter.
Jane made excuses for her mother, as remained her habit. “I cannot but forgive Mama when she asks for it, and to be honest, I forgave her long ago. However, my husband has been less willing to travel to Longbourn after Mama’s hateful words, and I hope her letter will soothe him and convince him to allow her to come for my confinement.”
“Jane, are you certain you would like Mama present when you give birth? She is hardly calm normally, and I cannot imagine her being of help when you are in the midst of your lying-in,” Elizabeth cautioned.
“Lizzy, you make too much of Mama’s excitement,” Jane admonished. “It will be well.”
Elizabeth held her tongue, unwilling to say any more in the light of her sister’s placidity. “We plan to remain in Town until mid-July, hoping your child will comply with our travel plans,” she teased. “You still believe you will enter your confinement at the end of June?”
“I do,” Jane confirmed. “The midwife visited a few days ago and confirmed the dates we thought. She believes I am carrying a girl because of how sick I have been throughout.”
Aunt Gardiner nodded. “When I carried the girls, I was sick from nearly the first moment we suspected I was with child. I was sick for the first months with the boys, but it quickly subsided.”
Elizabeth had nothing to add, but her sickness had not lasted long after they had begun to suspect she was with child. In December, she had been sick for a few days, but it had faded nearly as soon as it began. This time, she was slightly nauseated but had never felt more than that. She merely felt more tired than usual and a little more emotional, two symptoms she recalled from her time carrying Alex.
During the remainder of the visit, little else was said about Mrs Bennet as Elizabeth was unwilling to discuss her feelings with her sister. She felt Jane would only try to convince her to allow their mother back into her life without expecting any changes. Jane was always too willing to excuse and forgive the offences of her mother, while Elizabeth was unwilling to do so without seeing evidence of a change.
After visiting for an hour, Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner left Jane’s house, discussing Jane’s reaction for a few minutes. “I will try toconvince Jane not to invite her mother to town for confinement, as I do not believe Mrs Bennet will be of much use to her. She will be more likely to add to the general confusion of the event, but if Jane continues to insist, I will invite her to stay with me.”
