The Darcys of Pemberley (12 page)

As Elizabeth promised, Georgiana found that
her seat was at one end of the table with her brother and Mr.
Sanditon, whilst Colonel Fitzwilliam’s chair was at the opposite
end with his hostess and Miss Bingley. The rest of the guests were
arranged in between, providing an effective buffer. In normal
conversation, what was said at one extremity could not be heard by
those at the other, sparing Georgiana the troubling sound of the
colonel’s voice during the first portion of the meal.

In place of that familiar accent, which was
too painful to attend at present, Georgiana hung on every word of
the cordial discourse between Mr. Sanditon and her brother. She
gave each succeeding topic her full attention, participating in the
conversation and even laughing from time to time.

Meanwhile, Miss Bingley waged a campaign of
similarly concentrated interest on Colonel Fitzwilliam. With all
the effort she exerted to charm him, it was obvious Caroline did
not know that the man had lately withdrawn himself from the
marketplace by becoming engaged. With Miss Bingley’s special
attentions becoming too overt to be gracefully ignored, the colonel
had no choice but to enlighten her about his current status.

“Engaged to Miss de Bourgh?” she repeated
after him in an unnecessarily loud voice.

“Yes, just recently, in fact,” replied the
colonel.

Since this exchange happened to occur during
a lull in the conversation of the others, it was perfectly audible
to everyone in the room and set off a wave of well-wishing for the
colonel’s future happiness.

With all eyes trained on Fitzwilliam,
Elizabeth was the only one to note Georgiana’s stricken expression.
She was visibly shaken, and for a moment Elizabeth feared she would
flee the room as she had done before. This time, however, Georgiana
held her ground. She remained resolutely in her seat, reorganized
her face into a smile, and even made a respectable show of joining
the celebration of the colonel’s good fortune.

~*~

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, and
the ladies adjourned to the drawing room. There the subject turned
to Jane’s upcoming blessed event, which was of interest to all.
Jane, as the first of those assembled to experience being with
child, answered the curiosity of the others as candidly as her
modest sensibilities would allow.

With infants still the topic, Georgiana asked
Ruth Sanditon, “How are the little girls at Reddclift?”

“Mr. Sanditon has children, then?” Miss
Bingley blurted out. “
More
good news. This evening seems to
be full of happy surprises,” she said, her words dripping with
caustic sarcasm.

“Yes, Miss Bingley,” answered Ruth.
“Daughters, two and four years of age. Charlotte and I see them
frequently when we dine at the great house. They are delightful
little creatures – all blonde hair and blue eyes – and sweet
natured too. Their nurse manages them very efficiently, I daresay,
and they toddle after her like ducklings. Still, one cannot help
wondering how much affection the woman can truly have for them. She
is paid to look after them, which is not the same thing.”

“One must hope the girls will not have to
grow up without a mother’s love,” said Jane. “Perhaps Mr. Sanditon
will marry again.”

“Yes, he is still young, certainly eligible,
and he can be quite pleasing,” reasoned Elizabeth aloud. “I doubt
he would have any difficulty winning a lady’s favor if he were so
inclined.”

Although the conversation moved on, Elizabeth
held this thought in mind when the gentlemen rejoined them. Miss
Bingley, newly disillusioned with both her former interests, made
no move to address either of them again, and before long Mr.
Sanditon and Georgiana resumed the discussion they began over
dinner. Since this was precisely her sister-in-law’s strategy for
enduring the trial of Fitzwilliam’s presence, Elizabeth attached no
special significance to it. After all, she knew the true object of
Georgiana’s affection.

New Beginnings

By March, the dreariness of winter began to
give way to the first manifestations of spring. Tree branches
flaunted swollen leaf and flower buds from tip to trunk, poised to
burst forth with the least encouragement. First in a trickle and
then in a mighty rush, they broke open as the days grew warmer and
more hospitable. No better excuse than an intermission in the rain
was now required to draw the inhabitants of Pemberley out of doors
for a bracing walk or an invigorating ride, the better by which to
enjoy the sweet-smelling air and signs of rejuvenation abounding
throughout the park.

The evidence of new life was not confined to
the world outdoors, however. Elizabeth began to perceive
unmistakable symptoms of it within as well. It had been some time
since she had last suffered her monthly indisposition, and in
recent weeks she was ill many a morning. Perhaps the queasiness she
experienced was not in itself so lovely as the cherry blossoms
flowering in the orchard, but the fruit it promised was more
precious than any tree could bear. Elizabeth endeavored to embrace
this lofty thought as she struggled concurrently to keep down her
breakfast one day.

No sign of trouble had yet threatened when
she and Mr. Darcy left the house to take a turn together that
particular morning. Even when she noticed the first waves of nausea
– the portent of unpleasant things to come – she said nothing of
it, still hoping she might win the battle with her intractable
stomach. By the time Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge defeat,
they were far from the house. She had no choice then but to abandon
her husband and beat a hasty retreat to the nearest patch of brush
where all was ultimately lost.

For days, Elizabeth had been contemplating
how best to tell her husband of her suspicion, which was by now a
conviction, that she was with child. She had searched for precisely
the right words and pictured the perfect setting to impart the news
that would bring him so much joy. As she huddled miserably in the
bushes, Elizabeth realized the time was at hand. Like it or not,
she would have to tell Darcy now. Judging by how it was going thus
far, this was not going to be the moment of rare spiritual beauty
she had imagined.

Darcy quickly followed his ailing wife into
the shrubbery to support her through her affliction. When it had
passed, he gallantly offered his handkerchief to clean her face,
and led her to a nearby bench to recover.

Elizabeth cringed with embarrassment. “I am
sorry you had to see me like that,” she said. “If I must be ill, I
would much rather not impose the unpleasantness on anybody
else.”

“Say no more of that. My place is at your
side, in sickness and in health. Now, are you truly unwell,
Elizabeth, or do you think something you ate this morning has
unsettled you?”

“I am confident there was nothing wrong with
breakfast. The fact that you are unaffected is evidence of
that.”

With growing concern, Darcy suggested, “Then
let me send for the doctor.”

“No, my dear, there is no need for the doctor
just yet. I believe I already know what caused the trouble, or
perhaps, more correctly,
who
caused it. For you see, my
darling husband, it is entirely
your
fault that I am in this
condition,” she said gently.

“What do you mean?”

Elizabeth made no answer. She simply nodded
and smiled encouragingly, waiting for the light of understanding to
dawn upon his face. It did not take long.

“Are you serious, Lizzy? Are you really with
child?”

“Yes, of course I am serious. I may tease you
about many things, my love, but never something this
important.”

“The Lord be praised!” said Darcy, picking
her up and whirling her about in his excitement. “There can be no
mistake? You are quite certain?”

Elizabeth laughed with delight at his
reaction; she had never seen him so wonderfully animated. “Yes,
quite certain. I have only been waiting to find the best way of
telling you. This morning, you see, I hit upon the very thing. Our
romantic interlude there in the shrubbery just now was the perfect
prelude to my big announcement. Do not you agree?”

“My darling, the report is so excellent that
it matters not how you deliver it! You must be feeling better,
though, since you can joke about it.”

“You know how I dearly love to laugh, even if
it must be at my own expense. But, yes, I am feeling much better
now that I have unburdened myself of this monumental secret … and
of my breakfast.”

“Joke if you will, but I must speak in
earnest. My dearest Elizabeth, other than when you consented to be
my wife, this is the best news you have ever given me. I am so
grateful. Our prayers have been answered, and we will have a son or
a daughter before the year is out!”

That night in bed, Elizabeth nestled under
her husband’s arm, her cheek resting on his shoulder and their
limbs intertwined. Darcy held her close, as if guarding his
precious wife and the treasure that resided within her. As pleasant
as it was, Elizabeth had something else in mind. By her caresses,
she delicately tried to inspire her husband to the same thought,
without success. Since she did not ordinarily have any difficulty
conveying her amorous intentions, or eliciting from him a willing
response, she concluded that he must be profoundly preoccupied.

“So, now that our concerted efforts towards
procreation have been rewarded, I suppose you imagine that our work
is done and any further exertions would be pointless,” she
said.

“What?”

“Forgive me, but you do seem disinterested,
my love, or at the very least, distracted. Did you not notice my
rather suggestive show of affection?”

“Perhaps I am distracted, but I am never
disinterested, I promise you. That being said, however, must we not
practice some restraint now, for the sake of the child?”

“There will come a time for a prudent
abstinence. But I have it on good authority that none is needed –
nor indeed wanted – at this point. Do not make a celibate of your
wife just yet, Mr. Darcy.” With this assurance and some more overt
encouragement, Mr. Darcy’s scruples were quite satisfactorily
overcome.

~*~

Darcy and Elizabeth kept their important news
private for a few weeks, relishing the felicity of having the
secret all to themselves. Then Georgiana was the first to be told.
She was elated and totally astonished, having had no suspicions
about it in advance. Old Mrs. Reynolds and Elizabeth’s personal
maid, had guessed the situation already, but neither had presumed
to speak of it before their mistress chose to.

Elizabeth posted letters to share their glad
tidings with her family at Longbourn, Heatheridge, London, and to
Lydia in Newcastle. As she did so, she began to consider if there
were any persons on Mr. Darcy’s side that should receive similar
communications. He, unfortunately, had little family. His parents
were gone and there were no siblings except Georgiana. His only
other relations were the Fitzwilliams and Lady Catherine de Bourgh
and her daughter.

Darcy was on good terms with the
Fitzwilliams, and, although he was not really close to anyone other
than the colonel, Elizabeth judged that a correspondence of some
kind would be appropriate there. Lady Catherine was another matter
entirely. All contact with her had been severed many months before
as a result of her violent indignation over Mr. Darcy’s marriage
plans. She had given vent to her acrimony in a letter with words so
abusive that Darcy had vowed never to speak to his aunt again.
Elizabeth would, therefore, never presume to reopen the lines of
communication on her own, though her conscience prompted that it
was the right thing to do. The idea continued to needle her until
she at last resolved to speak to her husband about it.

She found him at his desk in the library,
bent over a ledger book in concentration. Without a word, she came
up behind him and began methodically coursing her fingers through
his hair, something she knew he found pleasurable and relaxing. He
soon pushed the book away and abandoned himself to her
ministrations.

“Superb,” he murmured after several minutes,
“but I shall never accomplish a thing with you here to distract
me.”

Elizabeth came round and unceremoniously
seated herself upon his knee. “Is it not my job as your wife to
bring you diversion from time to time, so that you do not wear
yourself out with work?”

He studied her face dubiously. “Is that why
you are here? To save me from overwork?”

“Of course.”

“Come now, Lizzy. There is no need to
dissemble. What is troubling you?”

“Well, since you ask, there is something. Do
you mind?”

“I am happy to hear whatever it is. I only
hope it is in my power to give you some relief.”

“It may be within your power, but I doubt
very much you will be happy about it. You see, as I have been
relating our good news to our friends, it has put me in mind of
Lady Catherine. Pray, do not be angry, Darcy, but I wondered if you
might consider reconciling with your aunt.”

“I’ll not be angry, but I am surprised at
you! I can hardly bear to refuse you anything, my love, yet how can
I grant such a request? Have you forgotten that insulting letter of
hers, much of the foul language in it aimed at punishing you? What
could even tempt you to invite that spiteful woman back into our
lives? I thought we were well rid of her.”

“I knew you would feel this way. I did for a
long time myself. Still, family is precious, and you have so little
of it to spare, my darling. Is it not worth the effort to excuse
her dreadful behavior in order to preserve those few kindred
connections?”

“We are building a family of our own now. Is
that not enough?”