August 1812
Despite what Elizabeth felt to be a promising beginning, something was awry at Pemberley. Unexpectedly and inexplicably, a few of the servants began to ignore her requests, even sending insolent gazes in her direction. She did not wish to bring the matter to the attention of her husband, as she knew he would become angry with those members of staff, but decided instead to take her concerns to Mrs. Reynolds.
“Is it just Betsy, then, Mrs. Darcy?”
“No; it is three of the upstairs maids, and perhaps four of the footmen. I had to speak to Archie three times this morning just to have him acknowledge me!”
Mrs. Reynolds shook her head. “I was afraid of this.”
“But what is it? What have I done?”
“Oh, Mrs. Darcy, it has nothing to do with you, though you have become the victim. No, it is Lady Anne, I fear.”
Elizabeth sighed. “She is speaking against me, then?”
“Yes; I did not know of it until Hannah told me in confidence this morning. She fears Lady Anne has gone too far, and the girl does not know what to do. And it is not just talk; Lady Anne is giving a guinea to anyone who will promise to snub you.”
Elizabeth felt suddenly dizzy. “A full guinea?”
“Yes.”
“But – but that is insane!”
Mrs. Reynolds could not reply.
Elizabeth rose. “I have to – Mrs. Reynolds, I have to think about this. Please excuse me.”
She rushed out of the housekeeper’s room and ran up the stairs at the back of the house. As she passed the Ruby Room, she could hear voices. Unable to stop herself, she pressed her ear against the door and heard a voice saying, “They are together every night, your ladyship, as I see the signs on her bedsheets in the morning.”
Then she heard Lady Anne say, “And yet she is not with child! Doubtless she is barren; that would certainly show Fitzwilliam what an error he made in wedding her.”
Elizabeth threw the door open to see Abby sitting on a chair near Lady Anne.
Her ladyship rose at once. “Howdareyou!” she hissed.
“How dareI? How dareyou, Lady Anne! Paying servants to show their dislike! Gossiping about me with my own maid! And you, Abby, I trusted you!”
The maid shrugged, clearly ill at ease. “I cannot refuse to answer Lady Anne’s questions.”
Elizabeth stared at Lady Anne. “We shall see what Mr. Darcy has to say about you speaking about our private lives in such a manner. And paying servants to treat me ill! I would be surprised if you are not out of the house by the end of the day!”
Elizabeth whirled and ran out, slamming the door behind her. She ran to her room and slammed that door as well. Throwing herself down on her bed, she wept bitterly. How different this all was from Longbourn! Whatever the faults of her family, she knew without a doubt that she was loved and cherished every day. Here at Pemberley, she believed that her husband loved her. But if he really loved her, would he continue to allow his mother to live at Pemberley? Oh, he certainly corrected Lady Anne when she spoke poorly of or to Elizabeth, but could he not understand the difficulties Lady Anne’s mere presence caused his wife?
Surely, surely, this last betrayal would convince him of the need for Lady Anne to be domiciled elsewhere! Cumberland was far off; having Lady Anne there would suit Elizabeth very well. She rose, wiped her tears and fixed her hair, and then made her way downstairs to her husband’s study.
Hearing voices inside the room, she paused. Yes, it was Lady Anne’s voice. Doubtless she was trying to put her case before Mr. Darcy before Elizabeth could do so. She heard Lady Anne say, “None of this would have happened had you married your cousin! Without a doubt, you should have wed Anne.”
And then she heard her husband say, “Things would indeed be better…”
Elizabeth could hear no more, as there was a loud roaring in her ears and for a moment, she thought she might faint. She clapped her hand over her mouth so that she might not betray her presence; then she turned on her heel and ran back upstairs to her own room. She had received a large packet of money from William as her first quarter’s pin money; she stuffed the notes into her reticule. She did the same with the bag of Darcy jewels, which she had hidden deep in a drawer when Abby betrayed unusual interest in them. She scribbled a quick note to her husband, which she slid under his bedroom door.
Then she packed a small valise with her toiletries and one change of clothing, and left her room, hoping to see no one. In that, she was to be disappointed, as she ran directly into Mrs. Reynolds at the foot of the stairs.
“Mrs. Darcy! What on earth –“
“I trusted you, Mrs. Reynolds. I trusted you! And you – you!” Her voice shook with rage.
Mrs. Reynolds looked at Elizabeth in astonishment. “Mrs. Darcy! Whatever can you mean?”
