As they ate, Darcy addressed the argument again. “Elizabeth, is there something else on your mind that led to your earlier upset? You cannot truly want to go to Longbourn, can you? Not after swearing never to step foot in your mother’s house again.”
Elizabeth drew in a shuddering breath. “I am feeling more emotional than usual, but I cannot help but think how excited my mother would be if it were one of my sisters facing their confinement. Our aunts intend to come to see us near my lying-in, and I am certain they will be helpful. And while I doubt I would want Mama anywhere near me during my time, I cannot help but feel some resentment that she cannot let go of hers to speak to me even a little. Nearly the last words she said to me were criticising me for gaining weight and risking you losing interest in me. A small part of me wants to show her that I was not growing fat and lazy, as she implied, but that I am carrying a child, your child. I am certain she is aware of it, but I want her to be forced to see me and have to pretend to be happy for me. I know it is silly, but I would like her to acknowledge that I have done something well. Although, I can imagine her commenting that I will continue to fail you by having only girls just as she did.”
“Dearest, you know that I will never lose interest in you or seek out the company of another,” Darcy reassured her. “I understand your desire to have your mother approve of you and your resentment towards her. Endangering yourself—and our child—by travelling to Longbourn now so that you can hear her ‘pretend’ to be happy for you will not accomplish anything other than make you miserable.”
“I know, but being so close to becoming a mother makes me much more aware of my parents’ failings. I never wanted a marriage like my parents, but I have realised that I do not want to parent like them. Both my parents allowed their resentment of the other to affect how they acted, and they made others miserable along with themselves. I worry that I am more like my mother than I realised if I am willing to allow my resentment for her to cause me to pick fights with my extremely long-suffering husband,” Elizabeth said as she leaned towards him.
Darcy leaned to meet her and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. “We will not be like your parents, my love,” he said reassuringly. “We discuss our problems and work them out; we do not allow things to fester. Additionally, Pemberley has no entail, and a son or a daughter can inherit, so there are no worries. We are blessed with excellent examples to follow and notable examples to avoid. So do not fret, Elizabeth; we will always strive to do well by our children.”
The Darcys enjoyedtheir solitude in Derbyshire through the winter. Letters frequently flew back and forth between Pemberley and points south. All of Elizabeth’s sisters, includingGeorgiana, were prolific correspondents. For a while, much of the news regarded Jane’s wedding—the arrangements and the shopping eventually subsumed with details of the wedding itself. While not as handsome as Darcy, Jane had been glowing, and Mr Hastings appeared delighted. Kitty had written this comparison, which had made Elizabeth laugh out loud when Darcy flushed when she read that sentence to him.
Jane’s wedding breakfast was sufficiently grand, although it had stayed within the budget set by Mr Bennet. Mrs Bennet had done all she could to convince her husband otherwise, but he had been adamant that the funds he offered were sufficient. With some ideas from Mrs Gardiner, she had managed it very well, and the breakfast had been complimented by all in attendance. Lady Lucas might have turned her nose up at it a little, but she was the only one, and it was most likely done out of spite. Charlotte Collins had returned home without her husband—he had been sent to Africa as a missionary for the Church of England. Charlotte intended to visit her home briefly as she decided her future, keeping in mind the promise of a cottage wherever she wanted to live. Meryton was looking less and less likely …
“Darling,” Elizabeth said upon reading the letter from Charlotte not long after Jane’s wedding, “did you know that Mr Collins has been sent to Africa as a missionary for the Church of England? You must have, since Charlotte writes that she accepts your offer to purchase her a small cottage near Lambton for her to live in.”
Darcy smirked. “I did not know his exact fate, but, if you recall, you did know that I would write to my uncle about having Mr Collins investigated since he spread rumours after kicking you out of his home at the direction of his patroness. We spoke then of my intention to offer your friend a home if necessary.”
Elizabeth made a face as she sought to remember. “I am sorry, William; I had forgotten that conversation. You have said this baby makes me irrational, but I believe it also makes me forgetful. I have taken to making lists of things I need to remember.”
He laughed outright at this. “I have seen your lists, and I am most intrigued when you remove them from some interesting spots on your person. I believe, dearest, that you will need to add larger pockets to your dresses to allow you to carry all the items you believe necessary to carry around with you.” She blushed, remembering how he had discovered one of her lists as he had helped her undress when they went to their chambers to rest the previous afternoon.
Standing, he went to lock the door of his study before returning to stand in front of her. “Would you like my help retrieving one of these lists, my dear?” It was her turn to laugh.
“As I recall, I had to rewrite that list after you discovered it, my husband,” she teased. “If I allow you to help, I will have to rewrite yet another.”
“But it is time for your rest, dearest,” he told her, bending to kiss her passionately before pulling two or three lists where they were tucked into her bodice and laying them on the table with her other letters. “I will promise not to damage these. Now, come here.”
The forgotten listsand correspondence that had yet to be read were retrieved that evening after dinner. Elizabeth tookthese to their private sitting room and read the letters from her sisters while waiting for her husband to return from the stables. As they finished dining, he had received a summons from the stables that a horse was in distress while giving birth, and he had gone to see what could be done. It was late when he finally joined her, bathed and dressed in his night clothes, exhausted from the ordeal. Elizabeth had fallen asleep as she waited for him, and he lifted her to carry her to bed. The letter she had been reading fell to the floor.
Elizabeth mentioned the letter to him in the morning as they snuggled in bed. “Dearest, did you, perchance, read the letters I held when you carried me to bed?”
“I did not see any letters, my love,” he replied. “Who was it from?”
“One was from Mary,” she replied. “She and Georgiana are doing well with their studies, as is Kitty, but Mary is asking if she and Georgiana can travel to Derbyshire with my aunt. Aunt Gardiner is supposed to depart from London in a fortnight and stay with us until I give birth.”
“Neither girl will be permitted into your chambers while you deliver—they are too young and maidens. Mrs Gardiner will be with you, as I will, regardless of what the midwife says, but I do not think it will hurt our sisters to be in the house. Mrs Annesley will keep them well away, and they can assist you with your tasks both before and after the birth,” he stopped and thought for a moment. “They are welcome to come, for my part. Will you write to Mary and your aunt to encourage them to come?”
She nodded. “I will,” she agreed, then looked pensive. “It is the second letter that I most wanted you to see. It was from your Aunt Matlock.”
Darcy was concerned by the look on her face. “And what does my aunt say?” he enquired.
“Anne is not well,” she admitted. “The doctors had been so certain that her ill health was nothing but the tonics her mother forced her to take. However, she took a turn for the worse while in London, and they retired to Kent for a rest and to get her out of the air of London. They called for a physician to accompany them as Anne soon developed a fever. The fever was brought down, but it left her weak and tired and unable to leave her bed. The Matlocks worried that Anne would not be able to recover, and a second opinion had been sought. Nothing either physician had done had restored Anne’s health.
“Richard is resigned to becoming master of Rosings upon Anne’s death,” she told him. “He is in London arranging to sell his commission—you likely have a letter telling you this in your pile.”
Darcy hugged her to his chest. “How are you doing, dearest?” he asked.
“I feel terrible for Anne, and I know Richard did not want this,” she replied sadly. “I do hope Anne will recover, but for your cousin to be willing to sell his commission points to it being more serious than a trifling cold. He must be convinced that her end is near.”
Darcy nodded. “I will not leave you,” he stated abruptly. “Do not even suggest that I depart for Kent for Anne’s funeral, especially should she pass before you have given birth; I will be at your side when our child is born.” The look on his face was stubborn, and she did not even attempt to dissuade him.
“Your aunt said the same thing,” she told him. “No one expects you to attend her funeral should the worst happen.”
“I do not recall seeing a letter from Richard, but I will look later,” he told her, unwilling to leave the cosy nest of their bed just yet. They continued to speak softly of the news they received the previous day and to make plans for the morning. Elizabeth needed to spend the morning writing letters in reply to those she had received yesterday, and Darcy needed to spend some time ensuring that all was in order for the spring planting. He needed to write some of his letters, so the two decided to spend the morning in his study attending to business.
Just over a fortnight later,near the first of April, they were waiting in his study for the carriages bringing their family to arrive when the post arrived. On top of the stack was a black-edged note, and both their hearts lurched upon seeing it. Automatically, Darcy reached for the stack and laid it on his desk, excepting the one on top.
He took a deep breath and noted the Matlock seal before breaking it and opening it, reading what was contained. “Anne has died,” he said, his voice husky in evident emotion. “It is strange—for so many years, I avoided her due to her mother’s machinations, but since I married you, she was finally able to become a friend. Although her letters were most frequently addressed to you, I came to know her through those letters and our interactions largely through you. I would have never known her except for you, Elizabeth, and I wish I had more time with her now.”
