Posted on: 2010-11-13

Chapter 16 – The Unsinkable Elizabeth Bennet

The plot had been set in motion with Mr. Gardiner writing to Mr. Bennet, to inform him of an opportunity for Elizabeth in Derbyshire. An elderly widow friend of Mrs. Gardiner's father and aunt, one Mrs. Thomas, needed a lively companion to read to her and write letters. Mr. Davies had told his friend of Elizabeth's talent for telling stories using voices as attested to by his daughter and grandchildren. After hearing of her abilities, Mrs. Thomas had been determined to have no other. Elizabeth would be paid a thousand pounds to be her companion. The widow Thomas had no family and was quite wealthy, and Mrs. Gardiner's cousin was her physician. She had a chronic and degenerative illness and was not expected to live long. The unprecedented sum Elizabeth was to be paid was due to the finality of her circumstances and a desire to enjoy her last days. Elizabeth would be in a remote area of Derbyshire and would not be in any company but that of Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Gardiner's family. He assured her parents several times that the opportunity would not leave the unseemly stigma of service on their daughter as it was much more like an act of Christian charity than work.

This elaborate charade would lay the basis for the inheritance Elizabeth would receive. The widow Thomas would be so taken with Lizzy that she would leave her a sum that Mr. Gardiner would invest in order to secure Mrs. Bennet's future. The specifics of the inheritance would be kept secret from her parents.

Mr. Bennet had replied to Mr. Gardiner with doubts, but grudgingly agreed to let his favourite daughter, right arm and eyes delay her return to Longbourn. The compensation was too great to be ignored. Elizabeth, sensing his displeasure, had written to her parents before leaving for Derbyshire with the hopes of assuring them they had made the right decision.

July 14, 1806 - London

Your loving daughter,
Elizabeth

Elizabeth knew she would have to be the consummate actress when she returned. It would be hard with what was ahead of her to be joyous at Christmas.

In the last week of July, the entire Gardiner family and Lizzy set out for Derbyshire. Mrs. Jones had left the day before with their luggage. David and Marianne had barely slept in anticipation of the journey. They had paraded around the house the night before, singing of the trip. "We are off to Derbyshire in the morn, in the morn" and "to Taid's house we go, to Taid's house we go, our trip will be delightful, to Taid's house we go." Lizzy laughed at her cousins' penchant for repetition. Mrs. Gardiner explained that Taid was an affectionate Welsh term for grandfather. Marianne had confided in her mother that she was looking forward to the carriage ride because Cousin Lizzy, while still sad, had started using her voices again when telling stories.

Lizzy, for her part, had been reading up on Welsh mythology to add to her repertoire of stories. Even though she would have preferred to be home in Hertfordshire, her circumstances dictated the trip to Derbyshire. She was determined to find some enjoyment in her time with Aunt Gardiner's family.

Her aunt had prepared her by telling her a little about Mr. Davies' Welsh heritage, his deep religious convictions as part of the Welsh Methodist revival movement and her entire family's love for music. Lizzy learned that Dr. Wilder and his mother had been forced to abandon their estate in Ireland and seek refuge with her brother. There was a mystery about their departure that she had not been told, but she assumed all would be revealed in time. She was to live with the Wilders until near the end of her confinement, when she would be secretly taken to Pemberley for the birth.

The trip was enjoyable with two stays at Inns for the night, as well as numerous stops to allow the children to run around and expend energy. Miraculously, Lizzy's sickness in the morning and the excessive tiredness had disappeared. She was feeling much as she had before April, except she definitely was getting larger in places… not just her belly, but also her bosom, and even her hips and bottom. It was as if this baby was forcing her to become womanly.

Lizzy and the children used their leg stretching time to full advantage. The weather was fine, and they played tag and leapfrog, and at one of the stops they watched a young man playing with a wooden disk on a string. He made the colourful circle magically slide up and down, and David was fascinated. The miraculous object was called a bandalore. When Davy pointed out the young man to his parents, he was surprised to find that his father knew of the toy. He promised he would procure one for him, and together they would learn how to make it spin as it traversed the string. Of course, Marianne insisted she too must be able to play with the toy, and the child in Lizzy wished she would also be able to learn to create such magic that seemed to defy Newton's laws of gravity.

On one leg of the journey, the children napped and Elizabeth had the chance to peruse her letters from home. Despite the communication with her father from Mr. Gardiner and her letter to her parents, her family continued to be concerned with her absence. Jane, in particular, seemed perturbed. She chastised Elizabeth for not being at home to be her confidante. Lizzy felt tears threaten as she pondered her relationship with Jane. Not having her sister to share in every aspect of her life was something Elizabeth had never imagined. Before she learned she was with child, all she wanted was to be home and unburdening her soul to her sister. Now the consequences were too dangerous for that to ever be.

Elizabeth was filled with both anxiety and excitement when the first sight of the famous peaks came into view. She knew it meant they were coming near their destination. Though apprehensive of what lay ahead, she was determined to become stronger despite her fears.

When they arrived at Mr. Davies house, there was a letter waiting for Elizabeth from Jane. Lizzy put the letter in her pocket for later. She was uneasy to learn her sister's news. The last communication had told her of Mr. George Trent, who was Tom and Becky's cousin. The thought came to her that her relationship with her sister would prove to be another example of collateral damage from the viscount's violation.

Mr. Davies was just as her cousins had described him. He was not a particularly large man, but his presence seemed huge. Elizabeth thought it was because his head was very leonine; and his voice did indeed boom. She could almost hear him singing the hymns Mrs. Gardiner had told her he loved so dearly. The house was as large as Longbourn and was called Glywysing. The housekeeper was Mrs. Jones' daughter. She herself was also Mrs. Jones and looked like a younger version of her mother. Old Mrs. Jones, as everyone in Mr. Davies household now referred to her, had arrived the day before.

When Lizzy retired for the night, she took out Jane's letter.

July 20, 1806 - Longbourn

Dear Sister,
I hesitate to call you dear. Why have you abandoned me? My need for you is desperate, and you are off enjoying a great adventure in Derbyshire. I know you told Papa that you would contribute the money you receive to my dowry, but I would much prefer to have you here. Mama says you are just being contrary and proclaiming to everyone who will listen that you do not want to be out. I need you to help me make sense of what is happening. You are so wise about sketching the characters of others. Perhaps, if I had done as much reading I would be as clever.

Elizabeth scoffed at the absurdity of her sister's statement. If she only knew how poorly she had judged the motives of Lord Wolfbridge and Mrs. Darcy.

Tom's cousin, George Trent, is at Netherfield. He intends to stay through Michaelmas. As you know, he will one day inherit the Baronetcy and possibly even the estate. I am certain you remember his last sojourn in Hertfordshire two years ago. Just as before, he has paid a great deal of attention to me at the assemblies and the house parties. If you were here, you would be able to tell me whether he is sincere or not. This time with the pain of Tom's death less pressing on me, I must admit I find him very pleasing. Mama is forever telling me how much he admires me, and she is preparing for him to make an offer. She gushes on about how I will one day be the mistress of Netherfield, as I was always intended to be.

Unfortunately, I have doubts about his intentions. You remember the last time he was here, he wrote some lovely sonnets for me; and he was and is forever telling me about my great beauty. He spends time reading poetry to me, and I must admit he has a beautiful voice. He puts great feeling into the words, but it all falls short of the expressions of love I received from Tom. Please don't chastise me. I am aware both of us were very young and proper behaviour prohibits such behaviour, but it happened nonetheless.

Elizabeth stopped to reflect on Jane's confession. Lately she had been thinking how ridiculous most of the conventions of propriety were. They seemed to be at odds with real life. Elizabeth knew there had been the deepest feelings between her sister and Thomas Trent since they were four and five respectively. She was certain neither had any intentions of violating God's holy ordinances, but she was also positive they had needed to tell each other of their love and admiration… even when too young by society's standards for such confidences. She returned to her sister's letter with a feeling of regret that she could not help her with her dilemma.

In this way, George Trent is the opposite of Tom, and it confuses me. I think I could have been quite plain and Tom would have loved me. He was not overly romantic, and he was so very practical; but the things he told me made me know the depth of his feelings. He often spoke of how we would make Netherfield a great and profitable estate again. He once left a note for me in the tree that was our childhood hiding place. In it he wrote that he thought the goodness of my soul shone from my eyes and left a tiny nosegay of forget-me-nots. Lizzy, I will forever cherish the last thing he ever told me as we were out riding the day he became ill. It was such a small compliment, but so dear because he truly meant it. He told me he admired my seat, and he admired my proficiency all the more because I had to ride side saddle. After he complimented me, he spoke of riding together for the rest of our lives. I could see the happiness on his face as he imagined our future.

Her last statement shocked Lizzy. Jane had never revealed this piece of information to her sister before. It was almost word for word what Mr. Darcy's father had told his mother in his final proposal. This thought distracted Elizabeth from her sister's plight and brought to mind the couple that would raise her child. She wondered why Mr. Darcy, whose parents had loved each other deeply, decided to marry for convenience.

Mr. Thatcher had revealed to the Gardiners and Elizabeth that Mrs. Darcy's mother, one Lady Catherine De Bourgh, had been telling anyone who would listen--since shortly after her sister's death--that it was destined for the two cousins to wed. Rumour had it that Mr. Darcy's father disputed her contention. Mr. Thatcher further told them that both Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Darcy had inherited great estates, and that Mr. Darcy had recently taken on the responsibility of running both. Lizzy worried that he had agreed for monetary considerations. Would her child be taught to value wealth above all else? What did Mrs. Darcy mean that the way he was that night at the theatre was as he had been as a young man? Why had he stopped smiling and laughing, and why had he given up pursuing joy and love at such a young age? Unable to come to any kind of resolution for the mystery caused Elizabeth to put those thoughts aside and return to Jane's letter.

Lizzy, please come home. Mama is putting so much pressure on me to encourage George Trent, but Becky says I should be careful. She thinks her cousin admires me, but she also says he needs to marry for money. I fear my heart is going to be broken again. If that happens, what will I do without you to comfort me?

PS, I am sorry I said I hesitated to call you dear. You are the dearest thing in my life.

Elizabeth crawled into bed and sobbed. Lord Wolfbridge had robbed her of so very much. When there were no more tears, she lay there waiting for sleep and thought about asking Mr. Davies to help her in procuring something she had been thinking about for some time. She wanted a sturdy knife she could carry with her wherever she went.

Chapter 17 – Lizzy Gets by with a Little Help from her Friends

Elizabeth took to the Wilders immediately. Dr. Wilder and his mother, along with Mrs. Jones other daughter, Mrs. Hinton, and her husband and children came to Mr. Davies on Sunday afternoon. All the family at Glywysing had gone to church that morning, but the afternoon would be devoted to another service in Mr. Davies home. Their society or fellowship was still a part of the Church of England, but definitely at odds on many tenets of faith. They were known as Jumpers because of their habit of jumping for joy during services. Elizabeth had heard of Quakers and Shakers, but never Jumpers.

The sermon Mr. Davies preached for the group seemed much more passionate than any she had encountered at Longbourn church. He preached in Welsh, so Lizzy had no idea what he was saying. She periodically looked over at her Uncle Gardiner, and they exchanged quizzical glances. David and Marianne had been given permission by their mother to join in the jumping of Mrs. Hinton and her two children as well as several other members of the fellowship.

Mrs. Hinton's children were Griffith, a boy slightly younger than Davy, and a girl, Angharad, about the same age as Marianne. Old Mrs. Jones had taken possession of her newest grandson, Morgan, only a month old. Lizzy was fascinated by how tiny he was. She was particularly amazed by his fingers and realized in less than five months, she would hold a baby even smaller.

Music was very important to the service, and young Mrs. Jones played the hymns beautifully on the pianoforte. Lizzy found the hymns beautiful with a haunting, melancholy sound. Mrs. Wilder accompanied her on the harp, and Dr. Wilder contributed with an instrument he called an Irish whistle. Though she understood little of the service, Elizabeth felt her worries lessen while in the company of this jubilant congregation.

Mrs. Gardiner took her cousin Jamie for a walk after the service. She did not want to be overheard by anyone, especially Lizzy. "Jamie, I am very worried. She is young, and so very small. I allowed her to go alone to visit Mrs. Darcy. Her parents would be completely justified in blaming me for her situation. I will never forgive myself if anything should happen to her."

Jamie looked fierce and said, "You are not to blame for what Mrs. Darcy and Lord Wolfbridge did. How could you know such important personages would be so vicious?"

"I do not believe Mrs. Darcy was cruel as much as careless. She thought little about what her cousin might do and only wanted to curry favour with him and so agreed to his request."

Dr. Wilder shook his head in disgust. "Whether she was thoughtless or cruel, the result is the same for Miss Elizabeth." He reined in his anger before he spoke again. "The Darcy and Fitzwilliam families are important to my reputation in Derbyshire, so I must overlook the despicable behaviour of Mrs. Darcy. But know Maddie, I will never forget what happened to that young woman inside who is facing this ordeal as best she can. As we speak of her, she is captivating the children with the story of the wrongfully accused Rhiannon."

"Jamie, I know how brave and sensible she is, but will she be safe?"

"She is small, but she looks sturdy, and her rosy complexion is an indication of health. Tell me about her mother." Jamie led his cousin to a bench some distance away from the house.

"Her mother had five babies, and she told me before Davy was born that they were all relatively easy births. All were born within six hours of her pains beginning. Elizabeth's mother has a tendency to complain about imaginary ailments, but she has always seemed quite proud of her ability to deliver easily. What she seems saddened by is that she never had a male offspring. It causes her to feel she has failed her husband and daughters."

Jamie smiled sadly at Mrs. Bennet's feelings of inadequacy, but brought the conversation back to his need to gather information. "Has Lizzy ever been ill?"

"I think my sister said she had measles when she was two. In general, all of the Bennet girls are remarkably healthy. I would not worry about Lizzy, except for her age and size. She is also very saddened by her circumstances, but we have seen her rally a bit recently." Madeline Gardiner smiled at her cousin as she said, "you made it clear what you think of Mrs. Darcy, but what is your opinion of him?"

Jamie Wilder looked thoughtful as he said, "He appears to be a good man and seems serious about honouring his obligations. The Darcy family, as you well remember, is much respected in Derbyshire. Both of Mr. Darcy's parents were well-liked by their tenants and servants… the same is true of the son." Jamie returned his cousin's smile with a smirk. "Until you told me about this business, I had no opinion of the present Mrs. Darcy; but the prevailing gossip in the area wonders why the master of Pemberley made a marriage of convenience--especially since his parents were rumoured to be very much in love."

Madeline Gardiner laughed at her cousin. "Jamie, how did you become so knowledgeable of all the gossip in Derbyshire, and particularly about the goings on at Pemberley?"

Jamie's eyes could not hide the mirth he felt at his cousin's question, but he tried to answer her with a sober face. "It is a hazard of my profession. People just seem to want to confide in me. They are sick, or a loved one is sick, and they feel vulnerable, so they talk. As you know, Sir Gareth is one of my closest acquaintances, and his steward, Mr. Reynolds has also become a friend. Mr. Reynolds is Mr. Darcy's housekeeper's brother. They do not talk about anything improper, but she keeps her brother abreast of the all the goings-on at the estate."

"Well, Cousin, the information you have shared makes me encouraged the child will have a good life. My hope is that Lizzy is able to come to terms with the advantages of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy raising the baby. I worry that as she matures she may come to regret the decision. At times I catch her with her hand on her stomach and a faraway look in her eyes. I believe she has developed a connection with this babe, even before she has felt it move. However, my biggest fear is that something will happen to her during childbirth. That event and learning the circumstances would surely destroy her family."

Jamie gave his cousin a hug and when he released her, a huge grin crossed his face, and he said, "Do not worry, Bronwyn Hinton will feed her the most delicious food and make her strong, Mother will play for her and soothe her savage breast. I will charm her with my delightful Irish wit, and she will be so distracted she will forget her troubles."

Madeline Gardiner punched her cousin's arm, and he doubled over in feigned pain. She was pleased he seemed more cheerful about his own sadness than the last time she had seen him.

Elizabeth was tearful in the carriage after she said goodbye to her aunt, uncle and cousins. She knew she would see them once more the following Sunday, before they returned to London; but she also knew moving to the Wilders was one more door closing. She turned her head so that Dr. and Mrs. Wilder could not see her childish behaviour.

Dr. Wilder knew she was crying but did not disturb her. He was very familiar with the need to shed tears as a way to find comfort. Jamie had learned enough about her that he was certain she would survive and even find a way to thrive. Mr. Gardiner had told him the story of her confronting the Darcys and Lord Wolfbridge to demand money. He very much admired that she had a bit of the rebel in her.

The Wilders' house appeared to Lizzy to be something out of a children's storybook. It looked like a large cottage and was made entirely of grey stone. The front door was surrounded by an arbour of pink roses and there were beds of colourful flowers on both sides of the door. Elizabeth saw Holly Hocks in the back, fronted by Sweet William, Lilies, Alyssum and Fox Glove to name just a few. Mrs. Wilder told her that the flowers were her indulgence, and that Mrs. Hinton had a serious vegetable and herb garden in the back. She alluded to the fact that Mrs. Hinton was both an amazing cook and knew a great deal about medicinal plants.

The house was shared by the Wilders and the Hintons. There also seemed to be little in the way of distinction between master and servant. They seemed to function quite cooperatively, with a division of labour to keep the house running smoothly. Mrs. Hinton cooked, tended the kitchen garden and did the laundry. Mrs. Wilder did much of the cleaning, kept the accounts and ordered supplies. Actually, she made lists and Mr. Hinton would go into Lambton and get what they needed. The two men did the heavy lifting such as carrying the buckets of hot water for baths.

Reliable transportation was crucial to Dr. Wilder's practice. He had an old Berlin that could convey the entire household when necessary, a gig he used to visit patients, a cart and five horses. They could afford the extravagance because the household cared for nothing but the reliability of the conveyances. They spent nothing on fancy liveries, drivers or grooms as was the fashion. Keeping everything running smoothly was Ferrell Hinton's main responsibility. He was the son of the blacksmith in Lambton. Though his older brother was due to inherit his father's business, Ferrell had learned from childhood to be a master metalworker. He could fashion almost anything from iron, and was quickly becoming renowned in Derbyshire for the decorative gates and other objects he made.

Mr. Hinton had recently fashioned a madeleine pan for his wife. She had learned to make the delectable little sea shell shaped cakes while working in the kitchens at Bryn Mawr, Sir Gareth's estate. Lizzy quickly grew to love them, and Mrs. Hinton made them a regular at tea for her pleasure.

Elizabeth was given the job of watching the two older children, and it was particularly satisfying to her when she was occasionally requested to help with Morgan. Within weeks, she had become an important member of the group. There was a calm atmosphere and a sense of purpose that was missing from Longbourn. Their existence seemed to be ruled by Ecclesiastes and the verses she had loved since childhood. "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven." This was a house dedicated to bringing life into the world and to ease the pain of those who were about to leave.

Elizabeth quickly came to admire Dr. Wilder. Though not the most handsome of men, he was in many ways the most agreeable man with whom she had ever been acquainted. He was not tall like Mr. Darcy, but she hardly noticed his lack of height due to his beautiful dark wavy mane. He explained his mother and Mr. Davies' hair had been like his before it turned silver. As with both of them, he had an imposing mien with very pronounced features. To Lizzy, he seemed one of those personages that were larger than life.

Elizabeth best liked the fact that he always knew how to accommodate his demeanour to fit the mood of his audience. She determined it must be an important trait for a physician and noticed he often seemed intent on pulling her out of the doldrums with his wit and humour.

When he found out she was interested in the French Revolution, he spent much of their time together telling her what he knew on the subject and suggesting books for her to read. He related history much the way she told stories. It was not something dry and boring, or even her father's cynical interpretation of events; instead it was interesting and exciting. She also came to realize he was a passionate partisan of one side or the other in the information he relayed.

Within days of her arrival at his house, she became Lizzy to him, and he became Jamie to her.

Dr. Wilder and Mrs. Hinton visited Mrs. Darcy to reinforce the belief that she was with child. The first time they called after Elizabeth's arrival, Mr. Darcy invited Dr. Wilder to join him in his study for a conference.

Mr. Darcy looked a bit uncomfortable as he began asking Dr. Wilder questions. He had been struggling to suppress thoughts of Miss Elizabeth, and he hoped hearing details of her avaricious behaviour would help him dismiss her from his mind. Not wanting to appear unfeeling of her circumstances, he started by asking after her health and whether the trip to Derbyshire had been taxing for her. After dispensing with the requisite niceties, he decided it was time to broach the subject he desired to have confirmed.

Dr. Wilder felt annoyed when Mr. Darcy began asking what he considered very inappropriate questions. He knew he must not allow him to know he disapproved, but it was the first time in his acquaintance with the man that he thought him to be discourteous. Dr. Wilder kept his face immobile as Mr. Darcy asked, "Does Miss Elizabeth seem happy about the circumstances of receiving payment? Is she making plans for what to do with the money?"

Dr. Wilder replied, "No, I have not heard her refer to it at all. We have been quite enjoying ourselves discussing history. She spends her time looking after Mrs. Hinton's children and reading. Did you know she is an amazing story teller? I am not certain how the children will survive when she goes away; they have quite fallen in love with her. She is still able to run and play with them, but I assume that will be coming to an end soon."

Dr. Wilder continued, his face devoid of the objections he had for Mr. Darcy's query. "She is reading Edmund Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France." Jamie allowed himself to chuckle as he continued with his observations. "I am under the impression she does not agree with him. She grimaces as she reads and sometimes even mumbles something about his ridiculous theory of prejudices and snorts." Jamie decided he would take a little liberty with his reflections. He said, "She is a very brave young woman, and she seems to be determined to come through her ordeal stronger. I am certain that your investment will be safe."

Mr. Darcy stiffened at his disclosure. He was suddenly aware that Dr. Wilder's comments made him appear to be somewhat less than gentlemanly.

Chapter 18 – Stolen Pleasures

During the following week, Mr. Davies brought over two bandalores that Mr. Gardiner had sent for Elizabeth and Jamie to learn to use, and then teach Griffith and Angharad. It took them a few days to master the toys, but soon they had gotten quite proficient at making the disks fly up and down the string. Elizabeth had even developed a technique where she would spin the disk out horizontally. The children had been promised that they could begin to learn on the morrow.

Lizzy and Jamie were practicing their bandalore skills in front of the house in preparation for their students the next day. Besides practicing, they were discussing the slave revolt in Saint-Domingue that had led to the establishment of the black republic of Haiti. Jamie told Lizzy of the tremendous fear that the successful slave rebellions and the retaliation against the white plantation owners had sent through the colonies. As they talked, unconsciously both would punctuate their comments with the bandalore.

Lizzy was deep in thought and instead of being horrified at the brutal attacks the rebellion had unleashed she felt a kinship with the slaves' need for revenge. She started to comment on what Jamie had told her. "I would hope the success of the revolts in Haiti would hasten the abolition of the slave trade, and maybe even slavery in the colonies. They are, I have heard, debating these issues in Parliament." Elizabeth looked toward Jamie, smiled and continued, "One day slavery will be gone with the wind… and to my mind it is an example of one of numerous injustices that plague the world... whenever it is done away with will not be a moment too soon."

Just as she said, "not be a moment too soon," with vehemence, she unleashed her bandalore, and it flew out on a swift horizontal flight and then came back to her with a snap. They had been so engrossed in their conversation, that neither had seen Mr. Darcy arrive. Elizabeth's bandalore just missed hitting Mr. Darcy at a spot about six inches below his waist. Jamie could tell she was mortified, but he also realized she was too naïve to understand the significance of her target. He could barely repress a smile at the thought of her actually hitting that spot. Silently he chastised himself… he was, after all Mr. Darcy's physician.

A startled Mr. Darcy jumped back. Once again, Miss Elizabeth had befuddled him. He had expected to see her gleefully making plans to build her solarium or perhaps talking about buying gowns galore, but instead she was discussing slavery and slave rebellions while being amazingly competent with a toy he had never seen before. She wore no bonnet, and her complexion glowed with health and a bit of a tan. He could see the slight protrusion in the front of her dress, and once again noticed she continued to look more womanly.

Elizabeth's embarrassment gave way to an expression of confusion as to why Mr. Darcy was there, but her look of bewilderment was quickly replaced by pleasure at his presence. Dr. Wilder wondered if there was something he did not know about their arrangement.

Elizabeth reined in her conflicting emotions and said, "Mr. Darcy, I am sorry I almost hit you; but we were quite preoccupied with our conversation and our practice. We are to teach the children how to use these new toys tomorrow… I hope everyone at Pemberley is well."

Mr. Darcy had also regained his composure and said, "No, Miss Elizabeth, all are well. I thought I should come and welcome you to Derbyshire. Have you been to the peaks yet?"

"Oh yes, Jamie… eh Dr. Wilder and the Hintons took me last week. It was heaven being up so high and surveying the surrounding countryside. I have a favourite spot near my home, Oakham Mount, where I go when I need to think. It is not nearly as lofty as the peaks. Lizzy's eyes twinkled with mischief as she said, "I am certain if I lived near them, I could make truly spectacular decisions."

Mr. Darcy, who was wearing his stone face, was inwardly perturbed that she called Dr. Wilder, Jamie. As usual, he did not understand why he cared; but he felt envy all the same. By the time Miss Elizabeth had finished her witty observation of the peaks, her irreverent enthusiasm had caught him unawares, and a slight smile with dimples broke through his mask. He said, "What else have you been doing to occupy your time out here in the wilder part of Derbyshire?"

Elizabeth's face broke into a teasing grin and she said, "Mr. Darcy, I do believe you made a pun. We are just enjoying the summer, and luckily for me, there are no neighbours around to observe and wonder at my presence."

Darcy continued to smile slightly as he said; "I think it is lucky for me as well."

Elizabeth was unsure how to react to his statement, so she ignored it and continued with, "As to what I have been doing precisely, I must admit most of my time has been taken up with the Hintons' children. Mostly we play games, and I tell stories or read to them. Lately, because of the heat, I have been accompanying them to a swimming hole in a creek that runs through the woods in the back. Grif and Ang are great swimmers. I have never known children who swim so often. Back home, it is a stolen pleasure; but Mr. and Mrs. Hinton encourage them to play in the creek. Dr. Wilder or Mr. Hinton always accompanies us because I do not swim and would not know how to help them if something went wrong. The most I do is take off my shoes and stockings and wade."

Elizabeth was disconcerted by the fact that he continued to smile at her ramblings. She remembered Mrs. Darcy's observation that as a child he had dearly loved to laugh. Suddenly she had a totally misplaced desire to continue to see his dimples; and even more, see if she could make him laugh. "I was quite startled one evening when Mrs. Hinton, whose parents had emigrated from Wales with Mr. Davies and his wife, told me that legend has it that Welsh children who cannot sing are drowned. She then told me with a very wicked look that neither Grif nor Ang can carry tune; but she expected it explained why they were great swimmers."

Elizabeth was successful. Mr. Darcy laughed, and for the second time in their acquaintance, she thought to herself how very handsome he was.

Mr. Darcy was also indulging in thinking her delightful when suddenly her eyes went round with alarm. He heard her say, "Ooh" and grab her belly. Without thinking, he moved toward her. As he moved in her direction, she drew back.

She put up her hand with fear in her eyes, and said quite forcefully, "I am fine. I am just startled. It is the first time I have felt the baby move. I think it kicked me quite hard. Jamie has been telling me for the last several weeks to expect it, but I thought it would be much more gradual. This seemed as though it has been thinking and planning the best way to get my attention… perhaps even chastising me." Elizabeth said the last thinking of her improper thoughts just before the baby moved.

Elizabeth allowed Dr. Wilder to approach her. He wanted to make sure it was a kick she felt, and not something more problematic. He stood quite close to her and asked her quietly to describe the feeling precisely. She answered him just as quietly. For a few moments they ignored Mr. Darcy

Mr. Darcy reverted to his mask. Inwardly, he was annoyed she had acted afraid of him, and he resented that she did not have the same fear of Dr. Wilder, and what was more, she had slipped back into calling him Jamie.

Soon both Elizabeth and Jamie turned their attention back to Mr. Darcy. Dr. Wilder asked him if he would like to come in for some tea, but Mr. Darcy declined. He knew he needed to leave, because he did not like the way he was reacting to something that was not his concern. For months he had not understood his feelings for Miss Elizabeth, and he suddenly was overwhelmed with just how inappropriate it was for him to be here.

His words were abrupt, and addressed only to Dr. Wilder. "I must be returning home. My reason for coming was to bring Miss Elizabeth some volumes of Shakespeare from my library. I know how much she loves him, and I remembered you saying at your last visit to Pemberley that reading was one of her main occupations."

Elizabeth tried not to frown. She was standing right in front of him, and he was talking as though she were not present. Once again, her impression was that he was displeased with her. He had seemed to admire her only moments before, and then just as quickly he seemed to disapprove.

She thanked him for the books, smiled, and curtsied to him as he left. He bowed, but said nothing as he mounted his horse. Elizabeth sighed once he was gone.

"Lizzy, what is there between you and Mr. Darcy? You and he seem to have a simultaneous attraction and antipathy for each other."

Lizzy shrugged her shoulders and looked at Jamie sheepishly. "You are right; at least with regards me. From the moment I met him, I felt very strongly that I wanted him to think highly of me." Elizabeth chuckled as she continued. "Of course, I also wanted Lord Wolfbridge and Mrs. Darcy to approve of me, and I could not have been more mistaken in that desire. Somehow, I felt the interaction with Mr. Darcy was different."

Elizabeth's face reflected her introspection. "With Lord Wolfbridge and Mrs. Darcy, I was proud that persons so important would have an interest in me. I probably was more like my mother than I care to admit. I know I relished the thought that I could brag about my important acquaintances once home in Hertfordshire."

Jamie could tell she was trying to come to terms with her feelings. "With Mr. Darcy, however, I thought he was reacting to me as a kindred spirit. He seemed pleased by something that was much beyond the surface. Sometimes I think it was my wit, and sometimes I think he envied the joy I felt that evening. At the time, I did not think he had romantic feelings for me; nor did I think our conversation was at all inappropriate, despite his being married. But my ability to judge characters… something I always considered one of my best traits... has proven to be woefully lacking."

Elizabeth reflected for a moment on her interaction with Mr. Darcy since their meeting at the theatre. She told Jamie what she could remember. "He followed me home from his house the day I was violated. Whether he was being protective of me or his family is unclear. He could not keep from staring at me the day I asked for compensation; but he, even more than Lord Wolfbridge, seemed revolted by my audacity to demand money. Sometimes he seems drawn to me... like today." She thought of one last piece of the puzzle. "You know, Jamie, I even suspect he might have watched me play with Davy and Marianne in the park near Aunt and Uncle Gardiner's house on occasion. Now I am not certain what he sees when he appears to like me, or what he is repulsed by when he seems to be displeased."

Elizabeth looked unrepentant as she continued. "I do understand my motives. Today I was trying to make him to laugh, and even to admire me. It makes my decision to relinquish this child easier. It will ease my anxiety when I am back in Hertfordshire if I can believe he does not think ill of me."

Jamie took Lizzy's hands and said, "Why were you afraid of him?"

"Because he looks a great deal like his cousin, and I panic at the thought of being touched by men." She squeezed his hands and smiled as she said, "Jamie, you are an exception. As soon as I met you, I realized I had no choice in the matter, so I decided to get over my fears sooner rather than later." Lizzy's smile became a chuckle as she continued. "It helped that you are such a pleasant man."

Jamie returned her smile and said, "Thank you for the compliment; but I have been meaning to ask you a very serious question. Elizabeth would you like to keep this baby? I will marry you if you would."

Lizzy captured his eyes, "How kind and compassionate you are to offer."

Jamie looked searchingly at her and said, "Lizzy, from the moment my cousin told me of the circumstances of your being with child, I have wanted to help you in any way I could. You are very courageous, and your actions have been amazing considering your youth and the rank of Lord Wolfbridge. I have heard from my mother and Bronwyn that you have nightmares. Please know you have this choice."

Elizabeth seemed to be collecting her thoughts. She stared at Jamie for several minutes before she spoke. "I must say no on several counts. First, I have responsibilities to my family, and our marriage would appear very suspicious to them. I prefer my family never learn of my humiliation. Besides, it is August and it would not be very believable if I wrote to them and told them I was married and expecting a baby in December... and by the way, I plan to live in Derbyshire for the rest of my days. Such news would create a rupture with my father, mother and sisters that I believe could never be healed. I have come to realize how much I need my family. I made this bargain to solve a financial dilemma for them and that is what I must do."

"Mr. Darcy thinks you are anxious to begin spending his money."

Elizabeth smiled at Jamie and said, "Yes, he thinks me vulgarly mercenary, and I wish I could make him understand what I am about. Unfortunately, I am not certain what that is. Trying to make sense of what has happened to me, and what, given the circumstances, I can make of my life occupies much of my private thoughts. I doubt I will ever be capable of being a wife." Lizzy looked away and paused for a few seconds before she said more to herself than to him, "My entire outlook was crafted by interaction with my father. He thinks he is smarter than others and enjoys poking fun at their follies. He was preparing me to become much like him, and then I brutally learned I knew almost nothing of the world."

Elizabeth turned back to Jamie as she continued to justify her decision. "Second, you have assured me that Mr. Darcy is a good man. Believing he will be a benevolent father is important for my wellbeing. Besides, breaking the agreement at this time would not be good for your career or your family's financial security. Third, you deserve to wed for love, or at least contentment."

Elizabeth spent time reflecting on the Darcys before she spoke again. "A moment ago when we were discussing Mr. Darcy's actions, I could not help thinking that part of the reason he acts oddly is that he is not completely reconciled to a marriage of convenience. He made a decision that I believe he regrets sometimes; but then he gets angry with himself because he thinks such thoughts dishonourable."

Elizabeth's next words were spoken with a passion Jamie was not expecting. "The truth is, not honouring one's marriage vows is wrong. We can chastise him for entering into a marriage without the appropriate care; but he is right to fight against his feelings. Today, I think we were watching the different sides of that conflict. I believe he should not have married for convenience; and I am equally convinced neither should you… even if it is for my convenience."

Elizabeth once again looked deeply into his eyes. "If we had met under different circumstances... and perhaps a few years from now... we might have fallen in love. Currently, you are the person I admire most in the world, and I wish you were my brother. Besides, with what has happened to me, I know I could never be a wife to you in the full sense. You deserve to have a marriage like your parents. I do not know the details, but I can tell from how your mother grieves that it must have been a very powerful love."

Mr. Darcy thought to himself as he rode home that the heat had been quite unbearable the last several weeks. The Hinton children had the right idea to go swimming as often as possible. His thoughts strayed to their companion wading in the creek. As usual, he became disgusted with himself at the thought. His annoyance soon spread to her. Such impropriety to bare her feet in the presence of Dr. Wilder and Mr. Hinton! More than anything, he was perplexed why she teased him and tried to make him laugh… could he call her actions flirting? What did it mean that the very next moment she acted afraid of him? She bewildered him so.

He would be glad when the baby was born, and she was far away from Derbyshire. He could forget Miss Elizabeth and end this tiresome battle with inappropriate thoughts. Was he in danger of becoming dishonourable like his uncle and making Anne unhappy like his Aunt Cassandra? He had wed her precisely because she was miserable with her mother, and he thought their marriage had given him a noble purpose in life.

He was looking forward to the baby. They were planning to have an artist paint scenes from the Perrault book so loved by Miss Elizabeth in the nursery. Anne had told him how she had learned French by reading those stories with her father. When he learned bits of information like that about the baby's mother, he struggled to understand what she was about. It was much easier to believe her without proper feeling. As much as he was anticipating the birth, he sometimes wished they had not agreed to this bargain. If they had just given her the six thousand pounds as she demanded, she would be out of his life now.

As Darcy arrived back at Pemberley, he came to the spot where he and Wickham had swum as boys. He needed to refresh himself, so he stripped himself down to breeches and shirt and indulged in, as she had called it, a stolen pleasure.

Posted on: 2010-11-17

Chapter 19 – Strange Fruit

Lizzy noticed that Mrs. Wilder retired immediately after dinner; she had seemed quiet and withdrawn most of the day. Elizabeth knew there was some mystery about their leaving Ireland, and she hoped she could persuade Jamie to tell her about it. As they sat having tea, she asked him, "Sometimes your mother seems immobilized by melancholy. Has there been some tragedy other than your father's death in her life? She seems very like her brother, except for that hint of sadness I see sometimes. It is as though she is remembering something very painful. I think I recognize it in her, and you as well, because try as I will, I cannot shake my own dreadful memories at times."

"It is all about why we had to leave our estate, Holly Hill. What have you heard about the Irish?"

Lizzy looked thoughtful and said, "I have not heard much. I remember, a neighbour, Sir William Lucas said once in my hearing that the Irish were at it again… whatever that meant. I think I remember some people in one of the shops in Meryton complaining that the Irish did not know their place."

Jamie chuckled at her words. "In order to explain why we left, I have to start at the beginning. Are you prepared for a long story?"

Lizzy nodded and relaxed back in her chair in anticipation.

Jamie drank a sip of his tea and began. "My father's family arrived in Ireland in 1649. Since as far back as the Tudors, there had been a policy of evicting the native Irish from their land and the confiscation of their property to be turned over to Englishmen, like my family, became the plan to ensure that Ireland remained loyal to the crown."

Elizabeth noticed that Jamie had begun calmly, but was becoming more passionate in the way he was telling the story. He seemed to spit out the next bit of information. "As I said my ancestor came with Cromwell, and he was no easier on the Irish--despite his Puritanism--or maybe because of his Puritanism. He personally sacked Drogheda and Wexford, and many were killed and transported. He claimed only armed combatants were killed, but history disproves his contention. How else can you explain that thousands upon thousands of orphaned children were slave transported to the West Indies?"

"Why did they not fight back when their land was confiscated?"

"They did, and Irish history is full of reprisals against the English landlords. Did you ever read Edmund Spencer's The Faerie Queen?"

Lizzy wrinkled her nose at the name Edmund. She answered Jamie, "I did, but I cannot say I remember much about it. It was not a favourite of mine."

"Spenser had to flee for his life with The Faerie Queen unfinished, because raiders came and burnt down the commandeered house in which he was living."

Elizabeth laughed at the image he had created. She imagined Spenser running across fields with the manuscript under his arm... perhaps in his nightclothes... being chased by men with pikes and torches.

Jamie smiled at her laughter, but then became very serious. "At the time of Cromwell, the country was left destitute with whole counties depopulated. For a period of time, because of the devastation, my family was able to live peacefully on their confiscated land."

Shaking his head at some recollection, Jamie continued. "It was a beautiful estate in County Wexford named Holly Hill. My great-great grandfather, my great grandfather, my grandfather and my father were all very fair-minded individuals. They were kind to their tenants, and they were loved in their community, much like the Darcys have been admired in Derbyshire. My family actually farmed their estate. They were not just landlords who lived off rent."

Elizabeth had never seen him look wistful. "Jamie, it sounds wonderful. Why did you leave?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jamie continued. "We had no choice. My family, over the one hundred and fifty years they were in Ireland, became Irish. Some of my ancestors were even native Irish and Catholics who converted because they had to in order to intermarry. The division between the Church of Ireland and the Catholic Church is not as intense as it is reported… at least not to the people. It probably is to the hardest elements of the Protestant Ascendancy, but not to neighbours and friends."

Jamie's face became hardened with the knowledge he was imparting. "In order to subjugate the Catholic population--that meant the majority of the native Irish population--what became known as the Penal Laws, were enacted. These laws were a deliberate plan to stamp out, by starvation and force, every single trace of Irishness. It made the native population a race of beggars. For example, no meat could be exported except barrelled salted meat for the British Navy. No wool could be exported except to Britain. No Catholic could vote. Catholics could not teach school."

Lizzy was looking quite distressed at his words. "Did no one protest the laws?"

"Jonathon Swift wrote some pamphlets. I remember one I read said that most of the nation were beggars. There was an opposition that developed in the Irish parliament, and there were sporadic local riots and one large rising."

Jamie took another sip of tea and his face registered a certain determination. "The people of Ireland were both inspired and impacted by the revolt in the American colonies. The American Revolution had helped the Irish people, because some of those hated Penal Laws I told you about, were repealed in a spirit of enlightened thinking and of course fear of retaliation."

Lizzy said, "I have read Thomas Paine's Common Sense. I found it very stirring... though I know that is not considered patriotic.

Jamie smiled at Lizzy and said, "I quite agree with you, and ten years after the American Revolution, the Irish population was again eagerly embracing the concepts of democracy and republicanism exhibited by the French Revolution. Both Danton in France and Thomas Paine in America inspired Wolfe Tone, who eventually became the most important leader of the struggle in Ireland. He founded the Society of United Irishmen. The purpose of this society was to unite the different religions into one political union. Later it became the intention of Tone to establish an Irish Republic through armed rebellion."

Jamie was pleased with how intently Elizabeth was listening to his rendition of Irish history. "The British aristocracy was alarmed, and saw the uniting of men from the Church of Ireland, Presbyterians, Catholics and other dissenters as a great threat to their power in Ireland,"

Jamie had said the last with a cynical chuckle, but his face quickly changed to introspection. "I was in my third year at Trinity--in Dublin. In early 1798, we all knew the time was coming for the rebellion. The plan was to wait for the French to come to our aid; but finally in May, fighting broke out without them. I was a member of a group called the 'Hist,' a history and debating society, and most of our members were in favour of an Irish republic. My father had written to say he was part of a force being assembled in Wexford." Jamie paused and swallowed hard before he continued. "The fighting did not go well in Dublin, and I left to join my father."

Elizabeth knew Jamie was fighting back tears. She took his hands just as he had taken hers earlier in the day.

Jamie's voice became little more than a whisper. "Originally the forces in Wexford were quite successful, but the British sent in 20,000 troops, and the United Irishmen were defeated. My father was taken prisoner, and like thousands of others, hanged. By the time I arrived home, he was dead. His body was left hanging, as a deterrent to any other would-be rebels. Eventually his body would have been thrown into a croppy hole with his comrades; but I wanted to bury him at Holly Hill."

The tears that had been held in check started to flow. "I dug a grave and went out at night with a cart and cut him down. I brought him home and buried him in the grave before the sun rose. My mother was very frightened for me; so we fled and came to my uncle's with only my mother's jewellery and the cash my father had left for an escape."

Oddly, Jamie got a resigned and stoic look as he related his next information. "Our estate that we got through confiscation was confiscated from us. Our circumstances are greatly reduced; but I was able to continue my education at Oxford. I had been studying law at Trinity; but I switched to medicine. I decided I would become a physician and try to put thoughts of Ireland behind me. I still believe it should become a republic, but for now my life is here. I have lapsed into a temporary apathy of despair, just like the Irish people."

Lizzy waited a few moments and then asked, "is there any other reason for your mother's sadness?'

"Yes, I think my mother would rally if it were only my father's death that causes her grief. She is, after all, proud of what he was fighting for; but she is particularly saddened because my two sisters are still in Ireland. One of my sisters is married to the Viscount Annagh. From the time she was ten, Deirdre wanted a title, and along with her title she got one of the most despicable men for a husband. My brother-in-law was a member of the local Yeomanry, and they were ruthless in their savagery toward the civilian population in the aftermath of the rebellion. It was he who was awarded my father's estate. My sister does not reply to my mother's letters. My other sister is also married to another owner of a local estate. Her husband is a supporter of the Act of Union, but at least he is not a vicious murderer. She communicates occasionally. My mother has six grandchildren she has never seen. You said earlier, you wished I was your brother. Well I wish my sisters were like you."

Elizabeth, once again, squeezed Jamie's hands and said, "Now that I have heard your story, it allows me to put my life into perspective. It is still a tragedy, but on a much smaller scale than what you, and the people of Ireland have gone through. I have lost much, but because of the efforts of my aunt and uncle and friends like you, my reputation will be preserved and my family will never learn of my humiliation."

Out of nowhere an errant image caused Lizzy to giggle. "You should come to Hertfordshire some day. I have four sisters… perhaps you could become my brother." Her nostalgic thoughts of returning home were soon put aside. "Jamie, what do you miss the most about Ireland?"

"I miss my friends, and I miss the laughter. The Irish are peculiar in that even in the face of tragedy, they have the ability to laugh; and they even laugh at the most horrible aspect of their troubles. Can you imagine an Englishman writing something like A Modest Proposal? My friends and I used to poke fun at the English because we heard some thought Mr. Swift serious about solving the problem of poverty by selling the babies of the poor as food for rich ladies and gentlemen. One song you will hear children singing in Ireland is about a mother killing her baby. I am certain the English sensibility would be horrified at such a sad subject becoming a song sung so jauntily. However, they have never experienced children starving at the rate they did in Ireland because of the Penal Laws."

Jamie once again got a broad smile on his face as he remembered some other peculiarity of the Irish. "Of course, there is that other side which wallows in maudlin sentimentality… songs about my poor dear grey-haired mother, etc, etc. My favourites, however, are the songs of rebellion." He became quite serious and said, "Many of the rebel songs can also be overly sentimental but some are hauntingly beautiful, and then the poetry of the Irish soul is revealed. The determination to be free comes through clearly. I will teach you some of the more beautiful ones before you leave."

"Jamie, I will miss laughing with you when I go home. My father's humour is mostly about ridiculing other people's failings. Your laughter is filled with compassion and great feelings of love." Elizabeth rose and put their tea things together to take to the kitchen. Jamie helped, and they soon had everything cleaned and put away.

As they were climbing the stairs to retire, Jamie said. "Lizzy, do you remember the spot where you almost hit Mr. Darcy today?"

Elizabeth looked surprised at his query. "Yes, I do. What about it?"

"Besides the knife that my uncle is procuring for you, hitting a man in that spot is very good protection. It is quite painful, and you would disable your attacker for several moments if you placed a swift kick or even a punch in that spot."

Elizabeth blushed and then laughed. "Why thank you, Dr. Wilder, for your astute medical advice. I will certainly remember your prescription for my safety."

As they parted for the night, Elizabeth tried to keep from grinning as she made a request of Jamie. "I want you to look out for the child once I am gone. Please take some of Bronwyn's madeleines to distract Mr. and Mrs. Darcy when you make a professional visit… just in case they might be thinking of eating the baby."

This time it was Jamie's turn to laugh. "Elizabeth Bennet, I think you have an Irish soul."

Chapter 20 – Anticipation

The oppressive heat of August was followed by a beautiful September. Just before Michaelmas, the air became crisp, and carried the delightful scent of the dying leaves. Elizabeth had always thought it odd that this season which prepared the earth for the hard winter ahead was so pleasant. The blazing of the trees in their death agony--or since it really wasn't death perhaps she should call it slumber preparation--was a last hurrah before the bleak landscape of winter prevailed. From the time she was a child, she both loved and hated this season. Just when she was savouring every moment of the glory of autumn, the truth of what was to follow would encroach. She felt the same way about what was to happen to her. She played with Grif and Ang with passion, knowing full well that her time of playing childish games would soon end, and she would be forced by circumstances into full adulthood.

She allowed her play with the Hinton children to be strenuous. Jamie told her she should try to be as active as she could. He wanted her to be physically strong for the birth. She had no idea that his methods were a bit unorthodox until she had a long conversation with Bronwyn about what to expect. She discovered that most women who could afford to be leisurely had always been encouraged not to exert themselves during their confinement. That was not true of women who had obligations. Jamie and Bronwyn had known both, and the majority they observed were women who had to work through much of their confinement; sometimes right up until their labour began. The prevailing wisdom for women from these classes was that the exercise helped them have an easier time… provided they were not unhealthy or malnourished.

Bronwyn herself had consciously put their theories to the test with Morgan. She had gone about her business… doing her chores, and even delivering babies until just a week prior to giving birth herself. The seasons were different, because Morgan was born the end of June and Elizabeth's baby would be born in mid December, and the possibility of inclement weather had become a consideration in her activities. Jamie had devised some exercises Lizzy could do indoors. For Elizabeth, she truly would be confined to just a few rooms during the last weeks. The plan had her going to Pemberley at the beginning of November. All involved thought it prudent for her to spend her last six weeks there, so that nature would not get a chance to disrupt their plot.

Bronwyn was an unusual midwife. Though much younger than most, she had the practical experience of having had three healthy children to guide her. In addition, she had Dr. Wilder to enhance her knowledge with science. They were a good team, and she was becoming highly valued in the community. She was particularly skilled at knowing those instances where Dr. Wilder should be called to intervene in an emergency. She had delivered her first baby shortly after Ang was born, and since then had delivered thirty babies with no deaths of either mothers or babies. She dreaded the first time there would be a fatality.

One evening in September, Bronwyn and Lizzy were sitting, having tea. Bronwyn said, "Lizzy, please ask me any questions... or perhaps you would like me to describe what happens."

"Please describe it. I do not even have a friend who is married, much less one who has given birth. My Aunt Gardiner gave me a little information, but mainly she seemed fearful for me."

Bronwyn described the stages--the pains, the widening of the opening and the appearance of the baby's head. Elizabeth listened with amazement at the intricate succession of events that allowed the baby to be born.

"I am apprehensive of the pain."

"Do not be. It is something that I think is more manageable the more prepared you are. If you can remain calm, it will be easier. I will be there with you. Just remember to breathe. Many hold their breath during the pains, and I think that makes it worse. Make a plan now to remember to breathe, and what thoughts you will concentrate on during the birth."

"What if something goes wrong? How often do mothers die?"

Bronwyn put her arm around Lizzy. "Jamie will be there. Usually he is not, but you are too important to him. He will be out in the hall. Between the two of us, we will take care of you. I am unable to answer how often mothers die... all I can say is I have lost none."

With the cooler weather, the household spent more time indoors, enjoying music. Jamie taught Elizabeth how to play an Irish Whistle. As promised, he taught her several Irish rebel songs. She found her favourite to be The Minstrel Boy. She loved the melody, and was amazed at the images evoked by the lyrics. Jamie told her that it was written by a friend, Thomas Moore. Moore had been part of the "Hist" at Trinity. "Thomas is one of those Irish poets that often slides off into sentimentality, but I do like this song. The tune is an ancient Irish air. It is a very personal song for me, since it was written to honour the fallen comrades from among our friends. One of whom, Robert Emmet, had organized a second failed rising in 1803." Jamie spoke his next words with a sigh of profound defeat. "He was captured and hanged."

Often of an evening, Mrs. Wilder would play her harp and Lizzy would play the pianoforte. Mrs. Wilder's taste in music leaned toward traditional tunes, and Elizabeth loved learning to play tunes she had heard all her life but for which she had never seen the sheet music. One tune in particular seemed familiar. Mrs. Wilder told her it was a traditional Welsh tune, but Lizzy was certain she had heard it when a travelling troupe performed John Gay's The Beggar's Opera at the assembly hall in Meryton.

Elizabeth was struck by how comfortable she was with Jamie and Mrs. Wilder. She wished her circumstances were different, and she could remain with her new friends. However, with her next thought, she remembered Jane and her father. They needed her, and she loved them as well. She was eager to debate history with her father and see the look of surprise on his face when he realized how much she had learned. Hopefully it would not be too late to comfort Jane. George Trent had left Netherfield in pursuit of a Miss Green with a dowry of twenty thousand pounds. She missed her other sisters, and she even missed her mother

In late September, Dr. Wilder took his mother and Lizzy to Lambton to have some new dresses made for Elizabeth, and to pick out Christmas presents for her parents and sisters. Mr. Davies showed Lizzy the knives he had procured. One was quite plain, but the other was silver with a filigree handle.

She laughed as she said, "The silver one is so beautiful. I have decided I would like both, Mr. Davies. I will carry the ordinary one as I go about my daily routine. The pretty one I will save for church, and if I ever decide to go to a ball."

Mr. Davies gave Elizabeth a paternal smile and said, "Oh my, Lizzy your infectious humour will be missed in Derbyshire."

Before they returned home, they stopped at the bookshop. Elizabeth wanted her own copy of Mary Wollstonecraft's An Historical and Moral View of the French Revolution. She had read Jamie's copy but wanted to take one home to Hertfordshire. She was anticipating reading it to her father and then discussing the ideas with him. She also wanted A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Wollstonecraft as well. This she planned to read while at Pemberley.

When they entered the shop, there was a young girl with an older woman talking to the bookseller. The young girl appeared to be about eleven or twelve, and looked vaguely familiar. There were two books on the counter, and the young girl was just concluding her purchase. She smiled broadly when she saw Jamie.

"Oh, Dr. Wilder, how wonderful to see you without anyone in my family being sick."

Jamie looked anxiously at Lizzy and said. "Miss Darcy, what a pleasant surprise. How is your sister? I am due to stop in and check her progress next Tuesday."

"She is fine, and all three of us are filled with happy anticipation for the baby. I am here today to get these books my brother ordered." She showed them a copy of Perrault's stories in both English and French. "My brother has hired an artist to copy the illustrations in the book onto the walls of the nursery. Mrs. Darcy had a friend who was taught French at a very early age by using these books, and my brother thought it an ingenious idea. The artist will include both the French and English titles as part of the illustrations."

Elizabeth was captured by the young woman's enthusiasm, and was honoured that Mr. Darcy would pay tribute to her father's teaching method for the baby. She now realized Miss Darcy had seemed familiar because she looked like her mother. She was a younger version of the portrait in Mr. Darcy's study.

Jamie said, "Miss Georgiana Darcy, may I present my mother, Mrs. Wilder, and my cousin, Mrs. Bennet."

Miss Darcy introduced her companion, Mrs. Watson. When the curtsies were complete, Miss Darcy noticed Elizabeth's stomach. "Oh, Mrs. Bennet, you are with child as well. When will your baby be born?"

Elizabeth answered carefully. "My baby is due the middle of December. I am visiting my cousin and my aunt, but will shortly have to return home for the final time of my confinement. I like your brother and sister's idea for painting the nursery. I remember fondly those stories being read to me as a child."

The excitement at the birth of her brother's first child seemed to bubble out of Miss Darcy. "That is the same time my sister's baby is due. I know since it is the first, I should hope for a boy; but I can think of so many things I would enjoy doing with a little girl. Is this your first child? Do you want a girl or a boy?"

Elizabeth looked at Jamie and he saw her discomfort with the topic. "Yes, this is my first child; and I have not yet decided which I would prefer."

"Miss Darcy, I am sorry to say we must be going. Mrs. Bennet is leaving tomorrow to return home, and she must be packing."

Georgiana Darcy smiled broadly and said, "Good bye, Mrs. Bennet. Have a safe journey home, and I will be thinking about you when my niece or nephew arrives. Perhaps I will remember to ask your cousin whether you had a boy or a girl."

On the way home, Elizabeth was abnormally quiet, and Jamie realized she had been unsettled by their encounter with Miss Darcy.

Jamie took Elizabeth to Pemberley just before dawn on November 1st. They entered through the tradesmen's entrance, and were met by Mrs. Reynolds. Elizabeth was taken upstairs to a suite of rooms… a sitting room, a dressing room and a bedchamber. The sitting room also connected to the nursery. Elizabeth smiled when she saw the mural of the Perrault tales and felt reassured her she had made a correct decision.

For the remainder of her confinement, Elizabeth would stay in these rooms. She would see no one except Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and occasionally Mrs. Hinton and Dr. Wilder. She was in the family wing, and only Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were in residence. Mrs. Reynolds told Elizabeth that Miss Darcy and Mrs. Watson had gone to stay with her aunt and uncle at Elderton, and would remain there until Elizabeth left.

As the sun rose, Elizabeth looked out the window to a glorious prospect. The view allowed her to see a ridge of high woody hills rising behind what she thought must be the rear of the house. From this ridge a stream meandered down and swelled into a much larger body of water. Willows hugged its edge, reeds grew in its shallows, and pairs of swans swam within its waters. Elizabeth was delighted with the natural appearance of the pond and surrounding grounds. It was a comfort to know that her prison for the next six weeks allowed the distraction of such a lovely view, and that her child would live in such a fair environment.

Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Reynolds and said, "I have never seen a place for which nature has done more, or where natural beauty has been so little changed by awkward ornamentation."

"Yes, I consider myself lucky that I have lived here for almost twenty years. To my taste, the grounds are the most beautiful of all estates."

Mrs. Reynolds and Elizabeth were instantly drawn to each other. Elizabeth, for her part, felt the older woman accepted her without pity or disapproval. Because of the family connection to Lord Wolfbridge, Lizzy knew she could not know the true circumstances of her disgrace, but yet she sensed no censure.

Mrs. Reynolds had known too many young women who had been compromised during her years of service. This young woman had found a way to come through the ordeal with some dignity, and knowing Mr. Darcy, she was positive with significant compensation. She did wonder whether Mr. Darcy was the father. It seemed unlike him, but everyone who knew him as a child questioned his marriage of convenience. Even his father had thought he was making a mistake. This young woman's personality was much more what she would have expected her master to favour. Even through the sadness of Miss Elizabeth's circumstances, it was obvious she was very intelligent and used humour and wit to compensate for life's hardships. Mrs. Reynolds could even see hints of joy when she talked of her sisters. It caused her to wonder where that happy little boy she had known since he was four had gone. Why had he not been as resilient as this young woman?

The first time Mrs. Reynolds heard Miss Elizabeth having a nightmare, she became convinced of two things. This young woman had not been charmed into a compromising situation, and Mr. Darcy was not the father. She knew her master was incapable of hurting a fifteen-year-old girl who begged him to stop. She also determined that the violator was much above Miss Elizabeth's station. As she begged, she continually said please.

Elizabeth, who had at first been enchanted by the view out her windows, tried to avoid the sight the longer she remained captive in these rooms. Her desire to explore the lovely grounds enhanced her general melancholy. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy spent as much time with her as possible without drawing attention by an absence from their regular duties. Mrs. Reynolds brought her every meal and sat with her while she ate. They became friends and agreed to correspond. Elizabeth said she did not want to know about the child but would like to be informed about how things fared at Pemberley. She cautioned that all correspondence should go through her uncle.

Other than her occasional visitors, reading and embroidery became her life. Mr. Darcy had given her three of Shakespeare's plays, and she started on them shortly after her arrival. The first was King Lear. It caused her to think of her father and going home, and the death of Cordelia and Lear from Edmund's duplicity made it difficult to read. She had never read the original text with their deaths, instead she had read Samuel Johnson's edition with the happier ending for Cordelia. She set the play aside in reluctance to tackle this stark tragedy; especially with a character named Edmund at the heart of the treachery.

She turned for her second selection to the well-worn volume of A Midsummer Nights Dream. The first page inside the book was not the original, but something added to commemorate the occasion of it being given to Mr. Darcy. It was from his mother, and the page had been decorated with cherub-like fairies around the edge. In the middle had been written…

She signed the dedication with the date, 8 September, 1792. Elizabeth wondered what age he had been, whether the 8th of September was his birthday, and what sadness had just occurred in his mother's life. Was this his copy to be used during their Midsummer picnics?

Every titbit of information she gleaned about this man made her more and more certain of her decision. She hoped this child would be his joy.

One night before retiring, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were alone in the sitting room reading. The three of them often spent the evening together, but tonight Anne had been feeling poorly. Miss Elizabeth's reading of Mary Wollstonecraft's book on the French Revolution had inspired him to read Edmund Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France. He had been intrigued by Dr. Wilder's description of her reaction and wondered what his would be.

Mr. Darcy was having difficulty concentrating and kept stealing glances at his companion. Tonight, the sight of her thick unruly locks--barely tamed into a mature looking bun--was a poignant reminder of her struggle to appear appropriate to her circumstances. The candlelight in the room caused her curls to blaze with a myriad of reds and golds. Her gown enhanced this radiant vision. It was a deep golden yellow. He knew not the fashionable word for the colour, but it reminded him of mustard.

He turned his attention back to his book, but soon his surreptitious glances resumed. Maybe the colour of her frock was called amber like the cross she always wore around her neck. Miss Elizabeth had told Anne her father and mother had given her the necklace. A school friend had brought back several large pieces of amber from Russia to her father. Her parents hired a craftsman to polish the beautiful glowing hardened resin and make matching crosses for their daughters. The piece her father had chosen for Miss Elizabeth's necklace had captured an ant in the sticky substance before it hardened. Anne had thought the idea of wearing an entombed insect around her neck a bit ghastly, and Miss Elizabeth had admitted her mother and sisters agreed, but that she had always secretly felt special because her father had chosen her to wear the most unique of the crosses.

This evening, she seemed totally absorbed by her book. He thought back to his first vision of her. Her concentration had been similarly intense… but overflowing with pleasure. Even after being in close company with her, he still knew not how to define her. All he knew for certain was she did nothing carelessly or in half-measures. Her belly was ripe with this child she was giving to him, and he was saddened to realize she was no longer the joyful being he first met.

"Miss Elizabeth how do you find your book?"

She looked up at him with a barely suppressed smirk and decided to reply with complete candour. At this stage, he was not about to nullify their bargain. "It is much more to my liking than the book you are reading. I find the Burke book to be nothing more than a justification for conditions staying the same. He even uses the term 'relying on prejudices' as the way we should live. As a woman, that is unacceptable to me. It is wrong that women are not accorded the same rights as men. Now, I will admit that was not important to me a year ago, but due to the recent catastrophe in my life, I have been profoundly frustrated by my restrictions."

Elizabeth noticed that Mr. Darcy looked perplexed once again. The denseness of his consciousness caused her to want to challenge him. "The French Revolution attempted to storm the heavens. As we know, it was not altogether successful, but I admire their effort. I feel we could learn from their attempt. They raised all manner of questions about the future of society. They discussed and debated the rights of women and the ending of slavery; something the American Revolution did not do. Women played a very important role in the revolution, and they tended to be the most insistent on doing away with the old ways. Women marched to Versailles and forced Louis back to Paris. It was unacceptable to them that he live in luxury while the mothers of Paris could not afford bread to feed their children"

Mr. Darcy stared at her in wonder. He had not expected to unleash such passion in her. He was not certain what to make of her reaction; but he was not altogether displeased. He asked, "Miss Elizabeth, I believe I agree with your assessment of the intentions of the revolution; but how do you justify the brutal reprisals against so many? Even the radical William Blake, who was originally a proponent, pulled back in view of the terror."

"What you say is true. Many did, indeed, pull back. As you know, I greatly admire both William Blake's poetry and his illustrations; but I think him wrong on his final assessment of the French Revolution. I think he tends, as many others do, to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Much of the fuss over the terror is to turn people's attention away from the conditions that gave rise to the revolution. It is much like the endless discussion of the savagery of the slaves' retaliation against the plantation owners in Haiti. Our attention is deflected away from the immorality of slavery and pulls at our heartstrings for the slave owners."

Elizabeth remembered the explanation Jamie had given her for the revolution's reprisals. He had talked of two terrors, and she knew when he was talking that he included Ireland in his reflections. Elizabeth decided to use his argument on Mr. Darcy. She spoke distinctly and dispassionately, but her eyes betrayed the personal fervour she felt for her topic. "I am struck by the hypocrisy of those who loudly mourn the victims of the revolution's terror, like Mr. Burke. Many of those who rub our noses in the atrocities are afraid their actions, if closely observed, might be candidates for a similar reprisal. One terror we are encouraged to shiver at and mourn the victims, but the ancien regime also perpetrated an unspeakable and dreadful terror which none of us has been persuaded to recognize in its vastness... or even to shed one tear for its victims."

Mr. Darcy was both bewitched and bewildered by this young woman. He noticed that despite her fervour for the subject, her eyes had that same cold quality of glittering emeralds he had seen the day they had struck their bargain at Darcy House. Soon she would be gone, and his dishonourable fascination with her could finally end. No one had ever affected him this way--he neither understood the passion she had for her ideas or the feelings she elicited from him as he watched her--and that confused him. Were he not married, he could imagine reading books and discussing ideas with her for the rest of his life. Even though he often disagreed with her contentions, he admired her eagerness to be a part of the world. She had mentioned hypocrites, and all he could resolve as she was speaking was that he was definitely one to have such shameful thoughts.

Chapter 21 – I Will Always Love You

Elizabeth was miserable. She had been in agony all day long. Her back ached, and no matter what, she could not find a comfortable position. It was the middle of the night when she finally got out of bed, put on her robe and went into the sitting room next door. She lit some candles and sat by the last of the fire and tried to read. When the pain kept interrupting her concentration, she gave up on the book. She decided to do some of Jamie's exercises.

She held on to the back of the chair and did knee bends. She did that until once again she realized just how much her back hurt. She stood on tiptoe and stretched with her arms over her head. Why didn't the babe come? She wanted to have this whole experience over and to be back in Hertfordshire. She was tired of being cooped up in these rooms, she was tired of being with child, and oh how she wanted her back to stop hurting.

She walked around the room, occasionally squatting while she walked. She was trying to decide whether she really was making her legs stronger when she heard a knock at the door. With a sigh, she said, "Come in."

Mr. Darcy came into the room and saw her walking about in a squat position. Her feet were bare, and he had to remind himself not to stare. "What are you doing, Miss Elizabeth?"

Lizzy made no attempt to be civil when she replied. "I am miserable and hoping the exercises Jamie gave me will help."

"Why are you miserable? I heard movement in here, and thought maybe it was time to bring Mrs. Hinton."

"Unfortunately, I am not having those pains. Instead, my back hurts from carrying this around." Elizabeth patted her belly and replied with complete exasperation. "It aches if I lie down… it aches if I sit… it aches if I stand. I just want this whole ordeal to be over. I am unable to sleep… I have indigestion… then there are the other things I experience that I should not mention in your company. I am tired of being in these rooms. I would love to go for a walk outside in your beautiful grounds, but most of all, I want to go home. Why, oh why did I ever leave in the first place?" She started to cry and did not care whether he saw her or not.

Mr. Darcy stared at her in bewilderment. He had no idea what to do for her. Finally, he hit on a plan. "Would you like to discuss some of the books you have been reading?"

Elizabeth laughed at his ridiculous idea, but then decided to go along. "Why not, Mr. Darcy? Maybe it will distract me and I will forget my discomfort. Do you mind if I lie down on the floor while we talk? I think the hard surface might provide some relief."

He nodded his agreement and noticed how ungainly she appeared as she went down on all fours and then managed to lower the rest of herself onto the floor. Darcy wondered how she would be able to get back up. Impulsively, he decided he would lie on his back at a respectable distance. The thought crossed his mind of just how improper and ridiculous it would appear to someone who saw them like this; but then he realized the only two people who could possibly see them were Anne and Mrs. Reynolds. He had no fear that either would gossip about them discussing books, supine on the sitting room floor, in the middle of the night.

He started by asking her what she was reading.

"I just reread The Merchant of Venice. It was one of the volumes of Shakespeare you loaned me."

"How did you find it?"

"I read it first when I was eleven. Portia became my favourite character in all of Shakespeare. She was beautiful, she was clever, and of course, she was wealthy, and had many suitors. She figured out how to win the day, and saved Antonio from the villainous Shylock. I hoped one day I could be like her." Darcy thought he heard her emit a soft snort.

"Oh, I knew I would never be wealthy, but maybe I would be thought beautiful, clever, and have many rich suitors." Elizabeth chuckled at her childish thoughts, and then felt some discomfort as to what Mr. Darcy was thinking of her last statement. Almost immediately she remembered the pain in her back, and decided she really did not care whether he thought her mercenary; just as she did not care she was in her nightclothes or lying on the floor with bare feet.

Elizabeth stared at the ceiling and collected her thoughts. "This time when I read the play, I found myself sympathetic to Shylock. Antonio had spat at him and reviled him for his religion." She thought of Jamie's tale of Ireland for a moment before she continued. "I was particularly moved by his scene in Act III. It had an entirely new meaning to me this time."

Elizabeth who had memorized Shylock's speech began to say the lines. Her passion for the words was evident, as she said, "Hath not a Jew eyes, Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer as a Christian is?"

Elizabeth looked over at Mr. Darcy as she continued. Her voice became husky with emotion. "If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

She lay there in silence waiting for his reaction. She knew this was their great divide, and what kept him from having a good opinion of her. He could not see that she had a right to revenge. The norms of their society made her the villain. She had stepped out of her place, and he could not forgive her for her transgression.

Mr. Darcy said, "I am sorry for your pain."

Elizabeth waited for him to say something more, but he did not. Finally she said, "Thank you for your concern. My ordeal will be over soon, and then I am certain I will be able to go back to keeping my emotions under good regulation. If you will help me up, I think I should try to go back to bed."

For the first time in their acquaintance, Mr. Darcy touched her. He pulled her upright, and he could feel her stiffen a bit, but she did not recoil from his touch.

She pulled her robe tightly around her and walked toward the door to her bedchamber. Just as she touched the handle, she felt a pain. She turned to Mr. Darcy and said, "I just had a pain that is, I think, the kind I have been anticipating. Will you wait with me and see if there are others?"

"Of course." He got his watch out, and together they patiently waited for the next one. It came, and they waited for one more. At that point, Mr. Darcy arose and went to send a servant for Mrs. Hinton and Dr. Wilder, and to bring Mrs. Reynolds to Miss Elizabeth.

When Mr. Darcy returned with Mrs. Reynolds, Elizabeth was crying again.

Mrs. Reynolds went to Elizabeth and put her arms around her. She had learned by comforting her during her nightmares that she liked to have her back rubbed. Her hands stroked in a circular motion, and Elizabeth melted into her embrace, but continued to cry. "Miss Elizabeth, is the pain worse?" Lizzy shook her head.

Elizabeth answered Mrs. Reynolds very quietly because she did not want Mr. Darcy to hear. "No, it is the same; but I just realized it is my birthday. I am sixteen, and I am going to have a baby today. This time last year I was home with my family; and my biggest concern was trying to persuade my mother that I did not want to be out in society, or make myself pleasing to men in the pursuit of a husband. I just wanted to remain fancy free for a while longer. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that we do not always get what we want."

Mrs. Reynolds whispered into Elizabeth's ear, "You will come through this. In the short time we have been acquainted, you have impressed me as a strong and courageous young woman. You will prevail. I have confidence in you."

Elizabeth put her arms around Mrs. Reynolds and hugged her. "Thank you. I needed your words of encouragement." She pulled back from Mrs. Reynolds and smiled as she said loud enough for Mr. Darcy to hear, "Never fear. I momentarily felt the need to wallow in self pity, but I will be fine now."

Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds assisted Mrs. Hinton. Four hours later, Elizabeth delivered a baby girl. Bronwyn Hinton was amazed at how easy the birth was. She had never attended one that went so quickly, nor had there been a mother who seemed to be in so little pain.

Bronwyn asked Elizabeth how she had managed to remain calm during the birth. Elizabeth whispered to her friend, "I did the same as I did when she was conceived. I concentrated on pleasant thoughts of things from my past. This time, however, I also spent quite a bit of time thinking about things I want to accomplish when I return home."

Ten days after the baby was born, Elizabeth rose early and dressed. Before she left, she had several requests to make of Mr. Darcy. She placed an envelope with a note and her cross on a table in the nursery. Jamie would come for her mid-morning to take her to the closest mail coach stop. He had argued with her to no avail that he should hire a carriage for her. She was adamant that she must arrive back in Meryton by coach. She would be the source of much gossip among her neighbours if she came home all alone in a fine carriage. She had agreed that she would stay overnight at the posting inns during the journey. She had her knives and the knowledge from Jamie of where to apply a blow. Together they gave her a newly acquired, albeit fragile, sense of bravado.

Unbeknownst to her, Mr. Darcy and Dr. Wilder had arranged for her protection by hiring a man to ride anonymously with her. Furthermore, Mr. Darcy had made certain the inns where the mail coach stopped were reputable and had given instructions to the landlords that she be given the most secure rooms in the house. Her luggage had been sent earlier, so she only had to manage one small box.

As Elizabeth waited for Mrs. Reynolds to bring her final breakfast at Pemberley, she reflected on the unexpected conversation with Mrs. Darcy that had occurred the day before. Anne had been watching her nurse, and when Lizzy finished she took the sated little girl from her. With the child she had bought in her arms, she had begged the baby's mother for absolution.

"Miss Elizabeth I wish you could find it in your heart to forgive me. I know now it was completely wrong of me to allow my cousin to be alone with you."

"Mrs. Darcy, I forgave you for helping your cousin the day we struck our bargain. But, I have not forgiven you--and I am not certain I ever will--for disregarding my modest proposal of demanding six thousand pounds." Lizzy had chuckled at her unconscious use of Mr. Swift's words.

Elizabeth had noticed Mrs. Darcy looked puzzled at her laughter. "You played Portia to my Shylock. I came that day for reparations, and instead you persuaded me to sell you this little one. Having been denied the revenge I had hoped to extract, I could not disregard the money you offered. It was too much for someone in my circumstances to ignore. You have condemned me to think of myself as Faust and to live my life believing I have sold my soul to the devil."

Once again, Anne had looked confused and even a bit incensed by her reference to the devil. Elizabeth's literary allusions were not being understood, and she reminded herself that Anne's main worry was that she might be denied the comfort of forgiveness.

At that moment in their conversation, Elizabeth had decided to cease accusing Anne through innuendo and to tell her the plain truth. "Mrs. Darcy, your first act was done thoughtlessly. I forgave you your carelessness, because I determined you had not been given proper instruction with regards propriety between the sexes. I also decided that you had suffered greatly being under your mother's thumb; and you were sheltered from interaction with both men and women outside your family. However, when you turned the tables on me at Darcy house, and thought the best solution for my dilemma was to take the baby; I came to realize that despite your mother--or maybe because of your mother--you had been raised to feel entitled. My existence has never allowed me to feel certain of my future. It is true I am a gentlemen's daughter; but with the entail on my father's estate, our financial situation has always been precarious."

Elizabeth had moved to the window and stood looking out as she pursued her agenda. "I am reconciled to my decision, because I think Mr. Darcy honourable and believe he will make a fine life for the baby. He believes me greedy and maybe even wanton. I wish I could change his mind with regard to my character. It would be humiliating for me to tell anyone, especially a man, the details of what your cousin did to me; but I do feel it would help my case if you told him how I came to be trapped." Elizabeth took in the beauty of Pemberley one last time and returned to Anne and the baby. "Your confession to him is your decision. His loyalty to you would make it difficult for me to tell him; and I do not feel it in the interest of this child to sow dissension between her parents."

Anne had smiled that she had been offered a chance to atone. "Miss Elizabeth, you are right. I promise I will tell him."

Lizzy had prayed she heard sincerity in her voice. "Thank you. If you do that, I will be happy to forgive you. Your confession will enable me to feel confident that his feelings toward me will not colour the way he acts toward his daughter." She had reached out to stroke the down covering the baby's head. "My main concern in this whole affair is the wellbeing of this child. Ever since I was violated by your cousin, I have felt confined by the choices I was forced to make. Recently, I have come to realize that there are many others in the world whose circumstances are much worse than mine. Now that my ordeal is over, I leave here cheered that my family will never know of my dishonour; and your promise will allow me to return home believing your husband's opinion of me will improve. Furthermore, I am resolved that unlike Faust, I will not waste what I have been given for the bargain."

Mrs. Reynolds interrupted her deliberation of whether she could trust Mrs. Darcy's promise when she arrived with her breakfast tray. Once her meal was eaten, she asked Mrs. Reynolds to arrange a conference with Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Reynolds told her he would come to the nursery after his breakfast. While she waited, she decided to nurse the baby one last time. Jamie had a theory that her milk would make the child strong because Elizabeth was so healthy. The wet nurse was to arrive today after she left. On Mrs. Wilder's advice, she had arranged for the new gowns she had made in Lambton to lap across in front and button on the side to facilitate nursing... much like the style of frock she had worn on that fateful day. Lizzy banished that thought and turned her attention to the gurgling babe.

The Darcys had not decided what they were naming her. Elizabeth knew there was some dispute between the two of them, but decided it was better she not know what name they settled on. From the moment the newborn was first placed in her arms, she had settled on calling her 'baby duck.' Her hair was pale yellow fuzz, and it reminded Elizabeth of the down on newborn ducks.

When she finished nursing, she cradled the baby in her arms and began to sing to her. She quickly ran out of lullabies and decided to sing The Minstrel Boy. It had a soothing melody, and she would not understand the words… so why not? Elizabeth was completely engrossed in entertaining her tiny audience and did not see or hear Mr. Darcy enter.

He was once again mesmerized by the sight he beheld. She was singing a hauntingly beautiful song of a fallen rebel to the baby. Her voice sounded as though she was fighting tears as she sang, Land of Song, cried the warrior bard, Tho' all the world betrays thee. The baby looked at Elizabeth with rapt attention, leading Darcy to imagine she understood.

Elizabeth smiled through her tears as she sang the last two lines. Thy songs were made for the pure and free… They shall never sound in slavery! When she finished the song she brought the baby's tiny fingers to her lips and said, "I will never forget you, and I will always love you, my beautiful baby duck."

Mr. Darcy watched for a few seconds before he cleared his throat to bring his presence to her attention. He felt uncomfortable that he had witnessed the scene and resolved to ignore the pathos of the tableau and instead to comment on the absurdity. "Miss Elizabeth, is it your aim to make the baby into a rebel?"

Elizabeth was unsettled that he had seen her kissing the baby's fingers and professing undying love. She decided that the best course was to go along with his jocular remarks. "I had not thought about it, but you might be right. Jamie has this theory that my milk would help her be healthy, so maybe it is possible my song will make her want to fight against injustice. Did you notice that she looked as though she understood?"

"I did indeed, Miss Elizabeth. Should I be on the watch for her organizing the staff in revolt against me?"

"I would not fear that… I have heard from Mrs. Reynolds and Dr. Wilder that both your servants and your tenants love you. In the short term, however, I would worry about battles over eating her vegetables and going to bed. Those were my first skirmishes with my father."

"What were his tactics in the war?"

Elizabeth smiled at the memory. "He taught me to grow vegetables. He flattered me and made me feel mature and responsible by giving me the job of tending the kitchen garden. I took pride in my produce and felt the need to market their deliciousness to my sisters. In addition, all the work in the garden made me tired, and I went to bed quite willingly."

"Your father has impressed me twice. I think his idea for using the Perrault to teach you French to be ingenious, and now you tell me of his exemplary parenting skills with regards rebellious children. He sounds to be a bright and resourceful man."

Elizabeth became introspective at his compliment of her father. "He was indeed, once."

Mr. Darcy smiled. He knew from their conversation the day the baby was born that more than anything, she wanted her stay to be over. He was relieved they had put the scene he had witnessed behind them. "Miss Elizabeth, Mrs. Reynolds said you wanted to see me before you left."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, I have two requests before I return home." She saw him stiffen, but refused to be intimidated. "The first is to ask whether you would help find a young man who could work as a steward in training with my father. We cannot afford someone who already knows all, but someone you think could learn quickly and would be able to help improve our returns." She saw him relax with her disclosure. Obviously, he did not resent this appeal, but she worried he would balk at her next demand. "My sister and I are able to keep the accounts and write the necessary correspondence. It is help with decisions about what we produce that is needed. Our estate could use someone who is creative, and forward looking… with a certain 'je ne sais quoi.' My father, as you said a minute ago, can be bright and resourceful, but with his failing eyesight he has lost much of his confidence."

Elizabeth became nostalgic thinking of her father. She realized in just a few short days, she would be home. She was unconsciously smiling at that thought as she continued. "We can pay the young man a modest salary, but we will also be able to provide our home for his residence. He will be treated as one of our family, and my mother is known for her table. I see the opportunity as an apprenticeship of sorts; but one filled with the possibility to put his ideas into practice. If you know of a good candidate with those qualities, please send the information to my uncle."

Elizabeth paused and struggled with how to make her next request. Mr. Darcy was looking at her with expectation. Finally she determined to have her say, regardless of the consequences. "Mr. Darcy, my second appeal is about your daughter. I want you to promise me that you will never leave her alone with Lord Wolfbridge."

Darcy looked startled at her statement. In an effort not to meet her cold green eyes, he began looking at his hands as he contemplated how to answer such a condition. It irritated him that, once again, she was making demands. This child was his responsibility, and he definitely knew better than she how to rear her.

His cousin had shown little interest in the birth of the child. They had not even spoken to each other when he and Anne had attended Edmund's wedding to Eleanor Harding. They had grudgingly agreed to make an appearance at the event for the unity of the family. He had just learned from his Aunt Cassandra and had been struck by the irony of the information that Lady Eleanor had lost the baby she was carrying on the same day Miss Elizabeth gave birth. His aunt had vented her annoyance with Edmund to Darcy. She was angry that her son had been in town and had still not arrived at Elderton to give comfort to his wife.

Elizabeth gave him a few moments, but when he did not reply she spoke. "Mr. Darcy, please look at me. I need to see your eyes when you answer my request. I am not putting any condition on you except this. I must know you will comply and protect her."

Darcy felt a renewed surge of annoyance at her disingenuous words. She most assuredly had other requirements. Was not the money he was paying her a condition? He could not keep his eyes from reflecting his disapproval; but thankfully today was the last day he would have to think about her... and her sad tale of woe. As he met her gaze, he wondered whether her concern was that the child would be devastated if she learned of her illegitimacy from Edmund, or was there something even more sinister she was implying? He had no plans to spend time with his cousin; but he was family, and they would inevitably be thrown together in the future. She was not saying the Viscount could not be present with the child; her request was that they never be left alone. He was unsure why she felt so strongly; but it was a simple demand. He replied to her with a look of condescension. "Miss Elizabeth, you have my assurance, I will never let Lord Wolfbridge alone with my daughter."

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and arranged her face in a brave attempt at adult seriousness. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am very pleased with your agreement to my request. I will sleep better with that knowledge."

Mrs. Reynolds came into the room with Dr. Wilder. Elizabeth had one last thing to tell Mr. Darcy. "I have left an envelope on a table in the nursery. It contains the amber cross my parents gave to me on my fifth birthday. Please put it away, and perhaps you might give it to her someday. I'm not certain Mrs. Darcy will approve... she finds my necklace macabre and perhaps not fine enough for those at your station." Elizabeth could not help a small smile as she recalled both her discussion with Anne about the cross and her promise to confess. Suddenly, the realization she was about to leave this prison and be done with this man and his tiresome disapproval caused her to broaden her smile. Almost as an afterthought, she said, "It is not a requirement, but it pleases me to think she might wear it someday."

Posted on: 2010-11-20

Chapter 22 – Atonement

Anne Darcy stared absent-mindedly out the nursery window. She could see Fitzwilliam and Georgiana talking as they walked the path that led to the stream. Her sister-in-law's hands uncharacteristically thrashed about with gestures of annoyance. Georgie had greatly resented being kept from Pemberley at the time of the birth. With but two days until Christmas, her ill temper made the prospect of a pleasant holiday dubious. To make matters worse, Lady Catherine was due later today. Her mother was pleased Anne had finally produced an heir, but her message announcing her upcoming visit had been mostly filled with acrimony that she had only been told of the long hoped for event after the child was born. Anne wished the others in her family could set aside their petty concerns and just be happy for her.

Anne and Fitzwilliam had feared Lady Catherine would arrive unannounced if she knew of the impending birth. They had felt it prudent to wait until the day before Miss Elizabeth's departure to send an express to inform her of their joyful news. Her daughter dreaded her stay as her mood was certain to reach an even greater level of resentment when she learned they had waited more than a week to communicate the existence of her granddaughter and that they planned to name her Elizabeth Anne.

Anne stamped her foot in irritation with the situation. This year, Christmas and the welcoming of a new year should have been her time to be the most important. Now word had come from Elderton that none from that estate would be spending time at Pemberley this season. Lady Eleanor had lost her baby, and the Countess felt the family should stay with her to keep her from falling too deep into despair. Her aunt's major concern seemed to be that Edmund had not yet arrived to comfort his wife. Even Richard had arranged a few days leave to spend Christmas with his sister-in-law in her time of need. Anne was certain her odious cousin Edmund had not given Fitzwilliam the three thousand pounds to include with their remittance to Mr. Gardiner on Miss Elizabeth's behalf.

What sounded like giggling pulled her away from the window. Anne turned to find the baby gesturing toward the painting of Little Red Riding Hood making her way to grandmother's house. She picked up her gurgling little girl and was rewarded with a grin. At least this little one and Fitzwilliam appreciated what she had accomplished. Mrs Darcy was now a proud mother--married to a man who was very pleased with the changes she had wrought in their life. The best part was he often smiled and was moved to kiss Anne's cheek when they were in the presence of their precious baby duck.

Anne sat and rocked the baby as she reflected on her last days with Miss Elizabeth. She had not been as gleeful as Anne had expected. At every turn, she had seemed to deflect a discussion of what she would do with the money. Nothing much was ever said beyond her standard reply--"she would increase her sisters' dowries and take care of her mother in the event of her father's demise." Fitzwilliam had told Anne she asked for his help in hiring a young man to act as steward-in-training for her father. He planned to recommend Mrs. Reynolds' nephew, John, who had been working with his father for the last several years. Their conversations had revealed that her father's sight had become diminished, and with the onset of that impairment he had lost some of his confidence. Anne knew not what to make of that, but she was surprised they did not have a steward.

She found it difficult to understand Miss Elizabeth's regard for her family. They were much lower in society than the Fitzwilliams, the De Burghs or the Darcys, but still she had seemed to pine so for them. Most of her relatives were in trade and her father's entailed estate was the sole tenuous link to the gentry. Even with the twenty thousand pounds Anne had given her for the baby, the five sisters' dowries would hardly be enough to encourage attachments with men of any substance. Miss Elizabeth--in a desire for the baby to have a connection to her family--had left a necklace to be passed on to her. It was that gruesome amber cross with an ant trapped inside. She had not insisted Fitzwilliam comply but simply said it would please her to know the little girl might wear it one day. Anne was reminded how silly and sentimental Miss Elizabeth was. She tried to remember whether she had been that nonsensical when she was fifteen. This child would be given all the advantages she and Mr. Darcy could afford. An amber cross would not do for their daughter when she could have emeralds and rubies.

Her baby duck was no longer cooing. Instead, she was staring at her intently--much as Miss Elizabeth had when Anne promised to confess her treachery to Fitzwilliam. Absolution from the young woman who had given birth to this child was what she had wanted that day. As she prepared to embrace her new role as the best wife and mother, it had seemed proper to start with a clear conscience. Much to her relief, Miss Elizabeth had been willing to grant her atonement for the simple price of telling her husband the details of what had happened that day. As part of their new beginning, Anne knew she should be completely honest with Fitzwilliam. Miss Elizabeth had believed the truth would free him from any fears he might have that the baby would become wanton like he believed her mother to be. Another example of those naive childish notions Miss Elizabeth harboured. Anne's precious little one's expression seemed to be soliciting a similar promise to tell her father the particulars. She placed a kiss on her forehead and silently agreed to do as requested, but now was not the right time. It would spoil Fitzwilliam's pleasure with being a father. Besides, he currently had the obligation to appease both Georgiana's resentment and her mother's.

An apprehensive look in the baby's eyes prompted her to remember another odd reaction Miss Elizabeth had exhibited that day. After their bargain had been struck, Anne had quickly changed the conversation to her trip home and seeing her family once again. "Do you have plans for a large celebration for Christmas? Ours will only be my mother in addition to Georgiana. Lord Wolfbridge's wife, Lady Eleanor, lost her baby. None from their family will be coming to Pemberley." She noticed that Miss Elizabeth had gone from looking resolute, to appearing shaken at the news of her cousin's wife. She initially assumed it was because she did not like being reminded of the Viscount, but Anne was confused as to why she seemed to appear guilt ridden.

Anne returned to the window, to check on the progress of Fitzwilliam's discussion with his sister. Georgiana was suspicious as well as acting like a petulant child. She had overheard the two of them arguing over the name for the baby. Anne was insistent that the baby be named Elizabeth Anne. She wanted to honour the baby's mother by using her name. It was such a small gesture, and she did not understand why he was so reticent about making it. Fitzwilliam feared that it might fuel the fire of speculation about the child. It was gossiped about among the servants, that there was some secrecy surrounding the baby's birth. He was also concerned that there had been no one within the Fitzwilliam, De Bourgh or Darcy family named Elizabeth for more than a generation.

She had finally persuaded him to agree to the name, and now this afternoon she would have to hear her mother's objections and insistence the baby be named for her. Anne could not countenance calling this child Catherine or Cathy. Her baby duck smiled and gurgled with approval at her mother's determination.

On Sunday, the 15th of March, 1807, the baby was baptized Elizabeth Anne Darcy. They told all assembled of their decision to call her Bethany. What they did not disclose was that it was a concession to Fitzwilliam's fears. As expected, Lady Catherine had imperiously objected, but Anne--feeling the power of accomplishing what so many had despaired ever happening--refused to be moved on the question of the little girl's name. Her determination had been fuelled by an equal need to honour Elizabeth and defy her mother. Richard Fitzwilliam and Lady Eleanor were chosen to be the baby's godparents. Lady Eleanor was not well known to the Darcys, but Richard encouraged his cousins that she would be a good choice. He knew her to be kind and generous.

Four months after the baptism, Anne had still not fulfilled her promise to Miss Elizabeth. Just when she thought the time might be right for her confession, there always seemed to be some obstacle that arose. The latest impediment was her belief that she was with child. She could not tell him now, for fear he might reject her and the baby she might be carrying. More important than righting history was her mission to provide him with the best marriage she could and to be the most loving mother possible. This change in her outlook had led to Anne encouraging intimacy with Fitzwilliam.

Their days and nights had settled into a blissful routine. Anne loved being a mother, and she could tell Fitzwilliam adored being a father to Bethany. They planned their days around being with her as much as possible. They sang to her and read to her, even though she could not understand. Georgiana had left her resentment behind, and joined them in a life centred on the baby. She brought her in a basket to the music room, and played the pianoforte for her. Bethany had a habit of looking at her parents and Georgiana with an intense gaze, as though she understood their words. She smiled and laughed a great deal, and all three found her mood catching.

Anne had been present when Bethany was delivered and had been reassured by how easy her birth had been for Miss Elizabeth. She now believed her fear of childbirth had been silly and selfish and enthusiastically determined it was her duty to give Fitzwilliam a male child. This had been her initial justification for going to him every night; but when he seemed pleased with her willingness, she gloried in feeling desired. Anne De Bourgh Darcy was happier than she had ever been in her life. Their marriage became less one of convenience, and more one of mutual admiration. She could not call it love; but even so, she enjoyed their relationship too much to risk his disapproval by telling him about her careless behaviour on a day more than a year ago.

It was not long after embracing her marital duties that her courses stopped; she began to feel tired and battled nausea in the morning. She told Dr. Wilder of her symptoms, and he told her he suspected she was with child. His advice had been to try to improve her health as much as possible. Her mother had always told her that she was unable to do things because of her fragile health. Dr. Wilder's approach was to encourage her to increase her strength. He told her it had been his advice to Miss Elizabeth and should be equally rewarding for Mrs. Darcy. He encouraged her to eat as much as possible as she tended to be frail. He promised to frequently bring her Miss Elizabeth's favourite treat to fatten her up--Mrs. Hinton's famous Madeleines. As with Elizabeth, he encouraged her to get as much exercise as possible. Dr. Wilder agreed she should tell Mr. Darcy, but cautioned her that it would not be certain until she felt the baby move.

She and Fitzwilliam celebrated Bethany's first birthday and prepared for Christmas. This year, the whole family was coming, and they would have a joyful time; and soon after around Twelfth Night, her baby would be born. She was anxious to have it over, and continue the idyllic existence her life had become… this time with two babies instead of one.

On the night of January 5, 1808, Anne's pains began. Mrs. Hinton was called, and the birth was easy, but Bronwyn felt something was wrong with the afterbirth. She had Dr. Wilder summoned. Anne was unaware of their concerns as she cuddled her infant son. He was beautiful, and was born with a head of dark hair like his father. They had decided to name him Lewis George after both of his grandfathers. Anne even nursed him as Miss Elizabeth had done with Bethany. She tried as best she could to sing to him. When she ran out of lullabies, she chose the only other song she could think appropriate. She sang Bobby Shafto to him. He truly seemed to enjoy that song, and she thought maybe he was trying to smile or even laugh at the words. She was supremely happy that all had gone well and was filled with pride that she had produced such a perfect little boy.

Thirty-six hours after the birth, Anne became feverish. Dr. Wilder told Mr. Darcy that the placenta had broken apart, and Mrs. Darcy had developed an infection. Within hours of that news, she began to slip in and out of consciousness. She was desperately trying to tell Fitzwilliam something. She kept trying to say, "She forgave me and I promised to confess. She said I thought myself entitled. Please Fitzwilliam, I need to tell you what happened that day. She forgave me. I promised her I would tell you the truth and I did not. I think God is punishing me." The sounds that came out were unintelligible. He shushed her and encouraged her to sleep. He held her hand continuously and frequently brought it to his lips, whispering to her that he loved her.

Four days after Lewis George Darcy was born, Anne Darcy died. The last day of her life, she was not conscious at all. She was never able to confess her role in the violation of the only woman friend she ever had.

Chapter 23 – An Ideal Husband and Father

Fitzwilliam Darcy watched as his daughter slept. She had already brought such joy to their lives… He, Anne and Georgiana had all changed. It was as if she had completed some kind of circle, and had given all three of them a renewed purpose. They read to her, they sang to her, and Georgiana played for her. He was intrigued by the intelligence that shown from the eyes she had inherited from her mother. They were often the same as Miss Elizabeth's had been that night at the theatre--green shining with flecks of gold. In response to that memory, he began telling her things an infant could hardly fathom, but she always seemed to reward him with a stare that said she completely understood his words

Anne had prevailed, and they had named her Elizabeth Anne. He had been apprehensive about using the name Elizabeth, and he persuaded Anne they should not use her full name publicly, but call her Bethany instead. It was a good compromise. The name had a biblical connotation, and he liked a reference he read to the town of Bethany as a little oasis laden with figs in a barren region. The literal translation from the Hebrew was house of figs, Bethany was definitely a little oasis in what had, for many years, been a barren existence for him.

He and Anne still frequently called her baby duck. The name Miss Elizabeth had given her somehow suited her, even though the blond fuzz was gone and had been replaced by mercurial brown curls that sometimes shimmered with red and gold. He tried to put the young woman who had given birth to her out of his mind. But those eyes and hair made it difficult.

The baby's presence had created a new, much closer bond between himself and Anne. She was determined to give him a son. The intimacy was agreeable, and they had settled into a pleasurable routine of days given over to enjoying Bethany and nights enjoying each other.

The suggestion to ask Lady Eleanor to become Bethany's godmother came from Richard Fitzwilliam. Darcy felt at heart his cousin's motive was that the two would have a justification for spending time together. Concern for her well-being was obviously also a part of his rationale. He had rushed to comfort her shortly after hearing she had lost the child she was carrying. Darcy struggled to remember whether he had heard of them being close prior to her engagement to Edmund. Richard had not confided in him; but the more he knew of Lady Eleanor it seemed to him that her affections lay with Richard, and she had married Edmund to please her father. The gossip at White's had been that Mr. Harding was looking to buy a title for his daughter, and Edmund and his uncle had definitely been in the market for her fifty thousand pounds.

He observed, during Bethany's baptism, that both Richard and Lady Eleanor seemed miserable with their situation. As they stood at the altar, they exchanged glances full of remorse. Her marriage to Edmund would mean that even if the rascal died, they would never be able to marry.

Fitzwilliam was thrilled when he learned Anne was expecting a child. He listened carefully to Dr. Wilder about ensuring her health. The cook was instructed to make all her favourite foods; and then when they were served, he made sure she ate. He scheduled a walk with her every day. Mrs. Hinton gave him a sling she had made so he could bring Bethany along. Her favourite position seemed to be facing forward so she could watch things. As always, he was amazed at how interested and delighted she was in her surroundings--her reactions reminded him of Mr. Wordsworth's words--for she truly found glory in each flower and splendour in even the simplest blade of grass he pointed out to her. Of course, sometimes he carried her nestled with her cheek against him, and it pleased him that in those instances, the thing she seemed to love most was his face and hair, followed closely by his neck cloth.

It was truly an idyllic time, and his marriage of convenience had miraculously become a relationship he treasured. In all honesty, he knew it was not love as his parents had had; but it was an adequate substitute. The doubts he had struggled with began to fade from his consciousness. As he had hoped, his fears of being unable to keep his vows had departed with Miss Elizabeth. Sometimes he would look at his daughter and remember her.... her eyes, her hair, her toes, her grin, her passion. Increasingly his recollection of her was most often the sacrifice she had made soon to be jarringly replaced in his consciousness by the memory of her resolutely negotiating her pound of flesh. He had sent twenty thousand pounds to Mr. Gardiner immediately upon her departure. At Bethany's baptism, he had confronted his cousin about the three thousand pounds that was his part of the bargain. His refusal to pay had left Darcy both furious and chagrined that his family would be seen as though they did not honour their obligations.

One day, Anne begged off going on the walk because she wanted to nap. It was late October, and getting around was becoming more difficult for her. Darcy packed Bethany in the sling and they set out on a crisp day, redolent with dying leaves.

For the last month, Bethany had been babbling with the cadence of fully formed sentences. That the sounds were currently unintelligible seemed to her to be the result of Darcy's deficiency, and there was an intuitive awareness she needed to proceed with patience as she shared her thoughts on the mysteries of the universe with her father. Today she concluded a long explanation of something or other by favouring him with her mother's mischievous smile. She had learned early he would display his dimples for her in response to that expression.

They stopped, and he sat down with his back against the trunk of a massive chestnut tree. He took her out of the sling and cradled her in his arms. Her comical grin slid into an unrelenting stare that seemed to be trying to sketch his character. In an effort to thwart her effort and bring back her smile, he decided he should sing. He wished he knew the song Miss Elizabeth had sung to her but instead settled on one he had learned from his mother… Scarborough Fair. When he finished, Bethany first giggled and then said very distinctly… "Papa." In that moment, he became resolved to send Miss Elizabeth the additional three thousand pounds for Lord Wolfbridge, and another three thousand--not part of any bargain from him. Even though almost a year had elapsed since he had sent Mr. Gardiner the twenty thousand pounds, a demand for the additional amount promised had never been received. As he stared down at his daughter's laughing eyes, it suddenly seemed the honourable thing to do. Besides, he had long thought he personally owed her some tribute ever since he saw her kiss the baby's fingers and heard her whisper words of eternal love.

The second Christmas with Bethany was the happiest one he had experienced since his mother's death. He did not even mind that all the Fitzwilliams and Lady Catherine were present. He, Anne and Georgiana had concentrated on buying presents for Bethany instead of worrying about any possible unpleasantness that might arrive with certain members of their family. First they gave her presents on her birthday, and then indulged in more for Christmas. They got her a top, building blocks, three dolls and a puppy. Her godmother gave her a stuffed rabbit, and her godfather gave her a stuffed bear. The Countess gave her grandniece several picture books that she said came from the Earl and Viscount as well. Her grandmother gave her a bonnet. Bethany quite liked the boxes most things came in. One in particular made a fine hat that she preferred to the bonnet Lady Catherine had given her. The puppy was a last minute idea of Georgiana's. They did not have time to get her a proper housedog like Georgiana's Pug, Bianca. Instead they gave her a Foxhound pup out of the kennels. Bethany, who was oblivious to the social stratification among dogs or humans, greatly appreciated her new companion. She was still crawling, so they had being on all fours in common. Her father named him Bottom, but she called the dog Papa. She did not yet grasp the true meaning of her first and favourite word, or that in the Darcy house all pet dogs must be named after Shakespearean characters.

On the eve of Twelfth Night, Anne began her labour. To Darcy, it did not seem as though it took much time at all for her to deliver. The baby was a boy, and had a great deal of dark hair. They named him Lewis George Darcy. Fitzwilliam Darcy was very proud, and he was momentarily fearful his own child would diminish his affection for Bethany. If that happened he would think himself dishonourable, but as he looked at his sleeping son, he knew without a doubt that it was Bethany who had created the atmosphere that resulted in Lewis.

When Dr. Wilder told him that the infection from the ruptured afterbirth was probably going to be fatal, he was shocked that the euphoria they had experienced less than forty-eight hours before, had now shifted to horror for him. Anne kept going in and out of consciousness, and he struggled to make sense of what was about to happen. He could think of nothing but finding some way to ease her departure. She kept trying to tell him something and seemed to want to confess. It sounded as though someone had forgiven her. If she had been forgiven, why did she need to confess? Anne was delirious and then drifted into unconsciousness. All he could think to do was reassure her she was loved.

In the spring following Bethany's third birthday and Lewis' second, Fitzwilliam Darcy brought his entire family to town for the Season. His sister and Mrs. Watson were in town to allow Georgiana to spend time with a pianoforte master. His whole life was Georgiana, Bethany and Lewis, and he refused to be separated from any of them. While in town, he thought he should attend some balls and reacquaint himself with the ladies of the ton. There was always the possibility he would meet someone who could inspire passion of both mind and body in him and still be a good mother to his children. Perhaps this time he would not feel quite so much like horseflesh as he had six years earlier.

Every day, while Georgiana was occupied with her lessons, he would take the children into the park across the street. Bethany was very precocious, and the most verbal child he had ever encountered. She was utterly fearless in approaching strangers and striking up a conversation.

One day, as Darcy was giving Lewis a piggyback ride, and Bethany was waiting for her turn, she began watching an amiable looking young man sitting on a bench observing her father and brother. He had fair hair, and Bethany could not take her eyes off him. No longer interested in her time on her father's shoulders, Darcy chuckled as he noticed Bethany's determination to make the stranger's acquaintance. She appeared to be pondering how best to approach him. Finally she said, "My name is Bethany Darcy and my mama is dead."

Hearing his daughter's inappropriate remark, Darcy hurried to apologize to the young man for her behaviour.

Just as he drew close, he heard the young man say, "So is mine, and my papa too."

"Oh, how sad. I love my papa… I would cry… if I could never see him again like my mama. Did you cry?"

"Yes, I did, and sometimes when I am all alone, I still cry."

Bethany patted the young man's knee in sympathy before she continued her inquiry of him with, "Hmmm, Mister, you look like an angel. Are you from heaven? Do you know my mama?" Bethany got a thoughtful look on her face as though she was evaluating something about her new friend. She said, "My papa is teaching me to play chess. Do you play?"

The young man smiled at her questions. "I have never been to heaven. Yes, I play chess--but not very well"

Bethany gave her new acquaintance a wickedly sweet smile. "Maybe you could play with me."

Darcy apologized for his daughter, and began discussing his attempts to curtail her forwardness and competitiveness with the young man--whose name was Charles Bingley. They did indeed have grief in common, even though its appearance was radically different in each.

Their personalities were very dissimilar, but somehow their strengths and weaknesses as individuals complemented each other. Where Darcy was often dour, standoffish and even a bit shy, Bingley was amiable, gregarious and comfortable in most social situations. Darcy was organized, conscientious and meticulously honoured his obligations. Bingley was quite disorganized, and known for his inattention in many things. He could even be called fickle at times. His carelessness did not extend to his appearance, however. He was always beautifully dressed, and much more colourful than Darcy, who even though no longer in mourning, still favoured black. Darcy had felt great joy before his mother died, and now and again in the presence of his sister and children, he saw a glimmer of those remembered idyllic days and privately pondered how to augment these times. Bingley often felt happiness, but he did not particularly dwell on his feelings. However, he did enjoy being in love, and tended to imagine himself in that condition quite often. Darcy disliked being in the presence of pompous, supercilious, vain and shallow persons. Bingley agreed with his friend wholeheartedly, but unfortunately he had two sisters that fit that description.

That day they made a bargain. Darcy would accompany Bingley to many events of the Season with the hopes that his discomfort would be lessened. For his part, the Master of Pemberley agreed to help his friend locate an estate. Bingley's father had made a fortune in trade and had wanted his family to gain the status awarded those of the landed gentry.

All in all, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter 24 – The Portrait of Lord Wolfbridge

Lord Wolfbridge watched as his daughter was baptized Elizabeth Anne Darcy. All the drama and intrigue surrounding the event was more interesting than most plays he had attended. Eleanor and his brother had been chosen to be his bastard's godparents. Edmund noticed the exchanged surreptitious glances as they performed their ceremonial duties. The Viscount was certain he, unlike his brother, had never looked at a woman with that depth of emotion in his life. Lately he had begun to believe that his brother might have been interested in more than Eleanor's fifty thousand pounds. The cynical military man--he had always assumed his brother to be--seemed to have succumbed to the romantic age. The fool had actually requested leave and rushed to Derbyshire to be by Eleanor's side when she lost the baby. Well the second son of the Earl of Elderton would just have to accept that he had lost out, once again, to his older brother. Thanks to him, these two sorrowful souls had been denied their chance to stand before god and family and vow their undying love for each other. Now even if he was out of the picture, they could never wed. All of society knew a widow just did not marry her husband's brother.

The baby was alert and watching the proceedings--no sleeping through the ritual for her. Edmund was struck by how much this little one had already changed his cousins. Anne appeared to have acquired poise as she assumed the role of mother. The Viscount even believed there was evidence that Darcy was treating his wife of convenience with more affection and respect. That also seemed to have played a role in increasing Anne's confidence.

Little Georgiana had also come to the forefront with this newest addition to the Darcy household. For the first time he noticed his eleven-year-old cousin's appearance. She was very different from the baby's mother but still another delightful variation of an appealing little girl. Miss Elizabeth had been a joyful, intelligent and impertinent sprite with whom he could engage in a battle of wits and ultimately defeat. Georgie was more like a spirited thoroughbred colt--all legs and a long elegant neck--waiting for someone to break her in.

His mother had a look of longing on her face as she watched her second son and daughter-in-law perform their roles in the sacred ritual. She so wanted a grandchild. Edmund was not quite certain what she thought such an event would mean for her. He wondered how she would react if she knew this babe was his. The Earl stood by her side looking stern. Periodically, he would look over at his oldest son in an attempt to impress on him the importance of producing an heir--just in case the Viscount had forgotten the duty he must make his priority.

Lord Wolfbridge was pulled aside by his cousin after the baptism. He waited patiently for Darcy to get to the point. After much hemming and hawing he said, "Edmund, it has been more than three months since Miss Elizabeth left. Have you sent her uncle the three thousand pounds you promised?"

"No, I have not, and you are mistaken that I said I would. You and Anne agreed to buy my bastard that day--I pledged nothing."

He paused and watched as his cousin predictably gave him a withering glare and said, "You are speaking of my daughter."

Edmund cocked his head and smiled sardonically. "Yes, I remember now. She is the one you just had baptized Elizabeth Anne Darcy. Remind me again, which one of the Darcy, Fitzwilliam or De Bourgh relatives was she named for?"

Darcy looked a bit disconcerted, but gathered up his arrogance and spoke forcefully. "Your attitude is completely repulsive to me. It is unconscionable that one day you will take your place in the House of Lords. You took advantage of a poorly chaperoned young woman and left her with child. I would have expected you to exhibit more honourable and gentlemanlike behaviour."

"Oh Cousin, you are so naive. That cheeky little bitch begged me... please, please Lord Wolfbridge were her words... and then she removed her clothes to entice me. The silly chit thought she could lure me into marriage. Her goal all along was to become the next Countess of Elderton."

His proud cousin was momentarily struck dumb. He obviously did not know how to counter this revelation. Edmund decided to twist the knife a bit. "Despite abandoning the marriage market after only one Season, you remember how it was. Even young ladies with excellent connections throw themselves at desirable men... imagine what it has been like for me with a title to titillate." He shrugged his elegant shoulders and said, "Unlike you, I sometimes use poor judgement and succumb to a succulent morsel."

Edmund noticed his cousin shuddered at the unsavoury image that came to mind with his remark. "I saw her after you finished with her. She was very agitated."

"That is because I had told her there could never be anything between us. She put her clothes back on and stormed out in a pique."

Darcy was not persuaded. He shook his head. "She was not angry, she was distraught. Edmund, you were twenty-five and she was fifteen."

"Yes, but you also saw her the day she came to demand money. She is clever beyond her years. It took her only a few months to realize--if I would not marry her--she could ask for money instead. You and Anne were pigeons waiting to be fleeced by her." With that Edmund knew Darcy was defeated. He thought it wise to wait for his cousin to respond.

After several seconds, Darcy glared at his cousin even more menacingly than before. "You have not persuaded me of your position, but there is something more important than Miss Elizabeth's motives. Thankfully she is gone, but her daughter is now a most important member of my family... our family. I will make your life miserable if you ever breathe a word about Bethany's parentage."

Edmund decided to end the conversation. He preferred to spend some time conversing with Georgiana--watching for the occasional equine flair of her nostrils when she was spooked--soon to be followed by a delightful nervous girlish giggle. Now, that could be a pleasant diversion. There was no good reason not to concede to Darcy's demand. He would gain nothing if others knew he was the father of this child. He stifled a smirk and stretched out his hand with a well-practiced look of sincerity. He waited for his wary cousin to extend his as well. They shook in agreement and parted. Lord Wolfbridge waited until his back was turned to register the disdain he felt for his prideful prig of a cousin.

Lord Wolfbridge surveyed the debutantes at Lord Cleveland's ball. He was disappointed there were none under seventeen, or at least none who appeared that young. The actual age was unimportant if the look he craved and a certain air of vulnerability or perhaps, naiveté was present. Of course, a dalliance with one of these young women would be extremely dangerous, but he was hopeful there might be one on the fringes of society who could offer a bit of sport. He had come to town for the Season leaving Lady Eleanor behind in Derbyshire. The Viscount had been in desperate need of a diversion, but that morning he had received a letter from the Countess stressing that his duty was to be at his wife's side. To make matters worse, his apparent disregard for Lady Eleanor was causing gossip among the ton that mortified both Lord and Lady Elderton to the annoyance of their oldest son.

Marriage to Eleanor was supposed to have improved his circumstances, and financially it had. But instead of the freedom to do as he pleased, he felt the weight of increased expectations--especially from his parents. The Earl continually pointed to his cousin's two children while reminding Edmund he had not produced even one. He wondered what his father would think if he knew that one of that arrogant arse's children was really his. He remembered Darcy's warning that everyone would learn the sordid circumstances of her conception if he ever talked of that day. He chuckled at the irony that he was quite certain poor Anne had gone to her grave without ever revealing the most inconvenient detail... her husband only thought he knew all the particulars... so much for truth. Still, it was not worth disappointing his mother and Eleanor by having Darcy tell them of his violating a fifteen-year-old gentleman's daughter. Twice he had spent time with Eleanor and made her with child, but both times she lost the baby. This possibility had not been imagined before they married. He wondered whether her inability to produce his heir was grounds for divorce--and if so could he keep her money?

Tonight he noticed that even though most of the young ladies knew of his marital status, his presence still seemed to generate a great deal of interest. If it was not against society's rules, he was certain many of these brazen young women would do more than cajole him into partnering them for a set. The coy looks he received over the fans of the debutantes and their mothers persuaded him he was still very desirable.

He would refuse to leave London. Eleanor would just have to come to town. Perhaps a change of venue would make their coupling successful this time. If she saw how sought-after he was with the ladies of the ton she might become more enthusiastic. In the beginning, she had exhibited real passion, but now she was barely a participant. Receiving him was nothing more than an obligation to her.

The first time after she had lost the baby, Richard had arrived to comfort her. The second time he had been away fighting Napoleon's troops, but he had defied propriety to send her a beautiful shawl in consolation for her loss. Obviously, they still cared for each other. He wondered whether they had ever indulged their affections. Maybe his brother could perform his obligations, leaving him free to pursue his own inclinations. Unfortunately, there were natural facts to childbirth, and all would know he would have needed to be present at a certain time in order to qualify as the father.

Darcy had been quite successful with persuading society to believe Edmund's bastard was his legitimate daughter. The deception had been reinforced when Anne had given him a second child… and a male child at that. It was unfortunate she had died giving birth, but he had to envy his cousin. He had two healthy children and no wife. He was free to indulge in any interesting diversion with a minimum of gossip.

If he arranged a situation where he, Richard and Eleanor were all within close proximity of each other, maybe they could carry off a similar deception. But he would not want there to be any hint of his not being the father, because he did not want to be thought a cuckold. He could tolerate an affair between them, as long as the perception of him publicly was not in jeopardy. On the other hand, an exposed affair could be a reason for divorce, and the fifty thousand pounds would definitely stay with him. Then he would be free to pursue some other young… yes, very young woman with a large dowry.

Lord Wolfbridge made his way across the room to speak to Lord Cleveland. The young lady with him--probably his sister and the reason for the ball--had hair the colour of Miss Elizabeth's, but she was much taller and plumper, not to mention, older than she had been. The resemblance made him wonder where the cheeky chit was and what had happened to her. Had she returned to whatever rural backwater she hailed from? The fertile bitch had probably grown fat bearing the children of some country squire. She would have been just what a cash-strapped minor gentleman would want. Did he notice he was not the first? Was the money enough to make him not care? Anne and Darcy had made her much more marriageable than she would ever have been had he not provided her with a child to sell. Miss Elizabeth had said she had four sisters. Now that could be an interesting bit of sport… to see if he could capture all five.

Lord Wolfbridge saw Darcy clinging to the sides of dance floor. He was amazed he was attending any of the events of the Season. His cousin seemed very uncomfortable, but enormously popular. Knowing Darcy, that was probably the reason for his discomfort. It was true, the chatter was about his wealth, his beautiful estate and occasionally his looks thrown in for ballast. He was with an amiable, fair-haired young man whose job it seemed to be to goad his cousin into minimal social interaction.

They also seemed to be accompanied by a young woman, who definitely wanted the room to think she was with Darcy. She had sought him out where he hovered around the fringes and had insinuated her arm in his. She seemed to be trying to win his approval through a running repartee. He wondered what her subject matter was. If it wasn't books or the theatre, he was certain she had no chance. He hoped she was not filling him in on all the gossip or evaluating the participants as to clothes and appearance. That was definitely not his cousin's preference. She was not unattractive, but he really questioned her style. Everything she wore was of the finest quality, but there was too much… lace, feathers, beads… she was a perfect example of gilding the lily.

Lord Wolfbridge saw Darcy and his friend from the other night playing with some children… two girls around three or four and a boy that looked to be two. The young man seemed to be engaging in swordplay with the children. He was wearing a tricorn hat and an eye patch. The three little ones had colourful handkerchiefs tied around their heads . Obviously they were pirates. When they removed their disguises, he saw the one girl had beautiful curls that blazed in the sun. He realized he was looking at his daughter, and she looked like her mother. He wondered what her eyes were like--did they sparkle with mischievous merriment? He decided it was time to take a closer look at what he had spawned.

"Hello, Darce. I saw you the other night at Lord Cleveland's ball. You did not seem to be enjoying yourself."

Darcy glanced quickly at his daughter in apprehension before he spoke. "No, I was not, but I am making an effort this Season to be sociable among the ton. I need to be open, for my children's sake, to the possibility of remarrying. My friend here is giving me moral support and advice in my pursuit. Charles Bingley, may I present my cousin, Lord Wolfbridge."

His daughter joined the group of men, looked at Lord Wolfbridge and said, "You look like my Papa." She screwed up her face and peered intently at him.

He looked back at her just as attentively. Her eyes were like her mother's. They were green with those unique flecks of gold and gleamed with the same intelligence. She seemed larger than he would have thought her mother to have been at three. Perhaps she would have his height. He said to the little girl who continued to stare unabashedly at him, "I am his cousin. My wife, Lady Eleanor is your godmother."

For the first time, Bethany smiled. "Lady Eleanor is nice… so is Cousin Richard. I am lucky. They give me presents." Once again she looked quizzically at him. "Are you Cousin Edmund that my Papa talks about?"

"Yes, we have met. I was at your baptism and your second Christmas."

"Hmmm… I don't member. Was that when I got my dog, Bottom? He is back at Pemberley. I wish he was here… he would be a good pirate." For the first time, she gave him a rather lukewarm smile, but it seemed to be for the recollection of the dog and not him. Darcy was watching the exchange with something approaching fear on his face. She looked down with a much broader smile at the little boy who was tugging on her hand. "This is my brother, Lewis. He does not talk good. We have to go." She curtsied, and she and her brother ran off to continue their make-believe.

Edmund had become bored with the Season. He gave in to his mother's demands and returned to Elderton. He had gone to Eleanor most nights; and after six months, she was again exhibiting signs of being with child. She seemed to conceive quite easily, but was unable to carry it through to the birth. His mother told him with reproach that she thought sadness contributed to Eleanor's miscarrying. He remembered his mother had lost several babies--she had the curious notion that delivering a female child would have raised her own spirits. Miss Elizabeth's body had not rejected his bastard... maybe she had not remained distraught the way Darcy had described her. He preferred to remember her cowering in fear, but it might be possible her unhappiness had quickly been replaced by pleasure as she seized the opportunity to demand money.

Lord Wolfbridge was anxious to be out and about. Once he knew Eleanor was definitely with child, he would remove himself and find some excitement. Wickham would make a fine companion to go in search of some sport among the lower classes. Maybe they should seek out Miss Elizabeth's sisters.

While he waited, he was spending his time doing something quite radical for him… he was reading. A friend at White's had recommended two books, he thought Lord Wolfbridge would enjoy. They were the Marquis de Sade's Justine and Juliette. He was gaining a wealth of ideas to put into play when next he found a frightened little girl with whom to indulge.

Chapter 25 – There is No Place Like Home

Elizabeth Bennet leaned toward the window of the posting coach. The terrain was becoming more familiar. She would be home in a couple of hours. Her uncle, Dr. Wilder, and even Mr. Darcy had offered to arrange for her return to Hertfordshire by hired carriage; but Elizabeth felt the need to economize. She did not want the ladies of Meryton gossiping about how fine she had become during her year of absence. It would be wonderful to be back in Hertfordshire, but she fretted over the difficulty of keeping everything that had happened in the past year a secret.

Elizabeth was arriving just before Christmas, and she knew her youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia, would claim most of her attention by clamouring to know about what presents were waiting to be unpacked in the trunks that had preceded her home. Before she left Derbyshire, Mrs. Wilder helped her choose bonnets for all her sisters and her mother from Mr. Davies' store. In addition, there was an assortment of ribbons, new kidskin gloves for each and some very fine Irish linen handkerchiefs. She had spent the last month of her confinement embroidering them--forget-me-nots for Jane, lilies for Mary, violets for Kitty, daffodils for Lydia and roses for her mother.

She thought about the two knives… one sturdy and utilitarian, the other a beautiful silver dagger… one in her reticule and the other in her box. She wished she could have brought a knife home for each of her sisters, but she knew not how she could have encouraged them to carry a weapon without disclosing her dishonour.

The Hintons, Jamie, Mrs. Wilder, and even Mr. Davies had contributed to a collection of presents and supplies for her trip home. Mr. Davies had found a beautiful wooden travelling box and Mr.Hinton had inlaid iron scrollwork into the top and fashioned a lock and key. The design for both the fastening and the scrollwork was a heart and Elizabeth had gotten tears in her eyes when she first observed their joint gift and its contents.

Bronwyn had contributed a supply of madeleines to eat during the trip. Jamie and Bronwyn had made her a sage tea to stop the flow of milk, and included strips of cloth she could use to wrap her breasts in the interim. Grif and Ang had included one of the bandalores with a note decorated with hearts telling her they would share the other one. Jamie had included sheet music for John Gay's A Beggar's Opera and a tin whistle; but the gift that caused her to become most emotional was a beautiful silver Celtic cross from Mrs. Wilder to replace her amber one.

For the last hours of her journey, her thoughts drifted to Mr. And Mrs. Darcy. She was pleased she had gotten a promise from Mrs. Darcy to confess her role that day at Darcy House. If he at least knew she had been trapped, perhaps he would not think her merely mercenary. It was probably too much to hope he would recognize her right for revenge, but at least he might not ever stoop to judge his daughter by her actions.

The conversation she had with Anne made her believe she had truly wanted forgiveness, and she had given it freely once Anne had promised to confess. More than anything she hoped her baby would be happy, loved and well cared for. She chuckled to herself when she remembered speaking to Anne of her "modest proposal" and how she had seemed unfamiliar with the reference. A man who had been in the coach the entire trip stared at her as she sighed, remembering how her request for six thousand pounds had been usurped by Mrs. Darcy's immodest amount of money offered for the sale of the baby.

Elizabeth recalled the other thing she had learned during that discussion with Mrs. Darcy. Lord Wolfbridge had, indeed, married Eleanor Harding. The surge of guilt she had felt at the time came back full force. She realized her pursuit of revenge had been at the expense of this woman's happiness. She and her uncle should have communicated how despicable the Viscount was. Anne had agreed to confess her sins; but how would Elizabeth ever atone for hers.

She needed to put thoughts of the Darcys behind her. Being cooped up in the coach gave her too much time to remember him in particular… his dimples when she made him laugh, his perplexed look as she lay on the floor in her bare feet quoting Shakespeare and his stolen glances he thought she did not observe when they were alone reading.

Elizabeth smiled broadly at her next thought. Hopefully, she would never see or hear from Mr. and Mrs. Darcy again; but she eagerly anticipated hearing from the rest of her friends in Derbyshire. They had all promised to write. Mrs. Wilder would include letters from Jamie so her parents would not question the propriety of corresponding with a man. Bronwyn and Mrs. Reynolds had agreed to write, although Mrs. Reynolds would correspond through her uncle, so no association with Pemberley was perceived. Elizabeth had encouraged all to come to Hertfordshire to visit her. Jamie might be an excellent match for Jane. She laughed out loud, and the man in the coach was startled. Oh Lord, once again, she realized she was not that different from her mother. She just wanted her sisters to be happy and secure. Soon Lizzy would be back in their loving arms again.

Upon Elizabeth's arrival at Longbourn, she was exuberantly greeted by her family. For the first time in many months, she relaxed a bit, knowing she was back where she belonged. The plethora of hugs and kisses were welcomed--except sadly those from her father. When he enfolded her in his arms and whispered what a delight it was to have his favourite chess opponent back, she unconsciously stiffened. Though she had prepared herself for tolerating his touch, and his words were so very endearing--she had forgotten he often smelled of tobacco and port. Before leaving home, these odours had never bothered her, but now she found them repulsive because she associated them with Lord Wolfbridge. Elizabeth felt her father's disappointment with her reaction. They had always been the early risers in the family, and she vowed to spend time with him tomorrow before anyone else was awake. Some of her earliest memories were of the two of them discussing so many things--and all before the others came down for breakfast.

Elizabeth also felt reticence in the greeting of Jane. Her hugs and kisses while freely given were lukewarm at best. The sisters' closeness had developed over the years during nightly discussions filled with whispered confidences of hopes and dreams, shared hilarity and loving comfort. It was the denial of this time spent with Jane that had filled her with heart-broken longing since that fateful day in March. Now she was confronted with resuming their relationship without the honesty that had been the hallmark of their bond. Tonight she would attempt to recapture their closeness, but sadly she must do so without disclosing her secret.

Her mother chattered on about the entire goings on in the neighbourhood. Her competitiveness with Lady Lucas had not diminished. Lizzy learned that Charlotte Lucas was to marry the newly promoted Colonel Lawrence Forster the following week. Charlotte had written of her engagement; but Elizabeth had not realized she would be going away so soon.

Mary told her that Becky and Sir Walter Trent had gone to Bath to economize. Their Uncle Philips had suggested this solution in an attempt to raise funds for much-needed repairs at Netherfield. This would be the first Christmas the two families would not spend together. Mary told her sister that Sir Walter had let his estate to an Admiral Calderwood. Lizzy was disconcerted with all the changes one year had brought.

Mrs. Bennet could not be contained. She added the information that the Admiral was not young, and had a wife but no children. With a shake of her head she said, "Yes, unfortunately there is no potential for husbands for any of you at Netherfield. I have heard Mrs. Calderwood might have a brother who is a captain in the navy, but currently he is at sea."

All of her daughters including Elizabeth groaned in unison, and Lydia said, "But Mama, I am only eleven and Kitty is only twelve."

Elizabeth wished she could chime in with the information that she did not want to marry… ever.

Mrs. Bennet ignored her daughters and continued to prattle on. "Now that Sir Walter is not in the neighbourhood, Longbourn becomes the most important estate. I am quite distressed because that means I should have precedence over our neighbours; but Lady Lucas insists that since she is the wife of a knight, she is the most important."

At this all too familiar complaint, all of her daughters rolled their eyes. Elizabeth smiled and realized that at least her mother was the same as before.

As soon as possible after Elizabeth's arrival home--with all three understanding the supreme importance of not promoting suspicion--Lizzy and her aunt and uncle had a private conference. Mr. Gardiner needed to relate to her the reactions of her parents to his news. The trio's plan had been that the Gardiners would arrive for Christmas before Elizabeth--giving Mrs. Bennet's brother enough time to communicate the agreed upon story of the legacy from Mrs. Thomas. He would explain that Lizzy had instructed the money be sent to him, and though the amount was substantial--it was not enough to make her wealthy. The point he most needed to make was that his sweet, caring niece wanted him to invest the funds with the hopes it would grow and be enough to ensure her mother was well cared for in the event of Mr. Bennet's demise.

Her Uncle Gardiner related that the twenty thousand pounds had been received from Mr. Darcy, but the three thousand from Lord Wolfbridge had yet to arrive. Lizzy told him not to pursue the funds as she had enough to take care of her mother and even possibly increase her sisters' dowries. More than anything, she wanted to put her ordeal behind her and focus on her family and the future.

She listened to how her mother had initially been ecstatic, but became less so when her brother told her the money could not be used to increase the finery of her daughters' clothes. Mr. Gardiner had chuckled when he related how she had become partially mollified at his hint that there might be enough to increase their dowries.

Elizabeth was concerned when she heard that Mr. Bennet had made no comment. The duty to make mention of the young man that would be hired to help her father had been determined to be left to Lizzy. Mr. Gardiner said his brother-in-law had seemed relieved that the family's financial crisis was lessened; but his eyes seemed to betray the discomfort he felt that security had been won, not by him, but by his daughter.

That night, Elizabeth went to Jane's room for a private talk. Jane was indeed distant, but as Elizabeth talked to her, she realized it was not because she was angry with her sister, as much as she had pulled into a shell like a tortoise. Her reticence was the armour she wore to keep from being wounded again. Elizabeth knew all too well, how strong the impulse to withdraw when unhappy was, and her heart went out to her sister.

"Jane, I know I should have been here to help you make sense of your feelings for George Trent, but you need to fight against your disappointment. You are by far the most beautiful of all the young ladies in the county. In fact, when I went to the theatre in London, I saw none who were as lovely as you." Lizzy shuddered at the thought of that night, but composed her face to hide her true feelings.

Elizabeth continued to try to bolster her sister's confidence. "I do not want Mama to know the details just yet; but I think there will be enough money from my legacy to establish a five thousand pound dowry for you. I know it would still not have been enough to compete with Miss Green; but I refuse to allow my dearest, loveliest sister to fall into deep despair. You have always been the joy of me." Elizabeth was startled by her use of that expression. That is what Mr. Darcy's mother had inscribed in his copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream. She put the thought out of her mind and refocused on her sister. "I will not be satisfied until you are the most happily married woman in all of England. My job will be to teach your children to play musical instruments poorly but passionately. Of course, I will also teach them to speak and read French. My excellence at training children to make and fly kites is renowned in London and Derbyshire, and you will not believe the skill I have developed playing with a new toy called a bandalore."

Jane laughed at her sister's exuberant encouragement. Still, she asked Lizzy about the hint of sorrow she saw in her eyes. Elizabeth said she was just noticing reflected concern for her sister. Quickly continuing to change the topic by saying how disconcerted she was not to have seen Becky before she left for Bath--and then there was Charlotte's departure so soon after Lizzy's return. All in all, she told Jane her head was spinning with such major changes. She returned the subject to Jane's sadness as she folded her sister into her arms and began to rub her back.

Later that night, Elizabeth awakened to Jane in bed beside her--reciprocating the soothing ministrations she had been given a few hours earlier. She told her sister of having heard her thrashing about and begging someone to stop. "Lizzy, I distinctly heard you say you had four sisters. Who were you speaking with?"

Elizabeth was silent for a few seconds as she tried to think of a plausible explanation. "I believe I must have been dreaming about a novel I read while I was away." Jane looked dubious but dropped her questioning. Elizabeth relaxed quickly under Jane's loving touch and was able to return to sleep.

Elizabeth awoke at dawn and went for a short walk before knocking on the door to her father's study.

"Enter"

"Papa, I wanted to talk to you alone about what has happened to me."

"Good, Elizabeth. I can tell you are changed, and I want to make sure all is well with you."

Elizabeth realized she had used a poor choice of phrase, and that he had noticed her lack of liveliness. That was not what she wanted to talk to him about. This was not Jane, this was her father. She had to think of some humorous way to deflect his probing. She said, "I think I am as I always was. I admit I am a little bit older, and I have acquired some amazing wisdom that I am in keen anticipation of exhibiting for you. The most dramatic changes are, I am richer, and I look more like a woman than a little girl. You might be interested in knowing, I have not played chess the entire time I have been gone. Challenge me immediately before I get my game back and you might have a chance."

Her father laughed at his daughter. "I noticed you had grown. Now tell me just how wealthy are you?"

"Not very, but I am rich enough to provide for Mama after you are gone. You may end your worrying about that, and concentrate on Longbourn. To that end, I asked Uncle to search for a young man with some knowledge of estate management. He will be a steward-in-training and live here with us. Under your direction, he will carry out necessary improvements. Mary and I will continue to keep the books and read and write your correspondence. Papa, you have been without proper help for too long." She put on her teasing face and quipped, "All the best estates in Derbyshire have stewards--so why should we not have the same?"

Lizzy was quite certain Mr. Bennet knew she had used her gift for humour to deflect his inquiries. The ruse appeared to work. She wondered whether he would settle on continuing their discussion by way of witty banter or would he assert his right of parental accusations. He gave her a moment of discomfort when he said, "Elizabeth even with my diminished sight, I see evidence of sadness in your eyes. It was never there before, and I hope you will tell me what has caused it." When she hesitated, he seemed to quickly choose not to press and said with some mischief. "Perhaps, I now have two daughters who have suffered a devastating disappointment in love."

Lizzy decided his humour laced with insensitivity for the plight of his oldest daughter gave her the opening to make her most crucial request. "Papa, you are mistaken. I have decided I do not want to marry. The legacy I received will allow me to live modestly, and take care of Mama. Please intervene with her on my behalf. Persuade your wife that my decision is for the best." Elizabeth noticed a quickly suppressed look of dread cross her father's countenance. She hurriedly added, "I believe I can abide house parties with our neighbours, but I would like to be excused from attending assemblies and balls. I really desire no wider company than the four and twenty families of our neighbourhood."

Mr. Bennet's eyes travelled from her face to her décolletage and back again--as if searching for an understanding to explain both her physical and emotional metamorphosis. Elizabeth prayed he would not continue to probe the reason for her appeal. Though he did not successfully conceal his concern, his face suddenly lightened with levity. "Lizzy, what happened to your fatally flawed amber cross? Is that silver one what all the fashionable young ladies are wearing in London?"

Lizzy touched the silver cross at her neck, paused for a moment, then replied, in a voice devoid of all emotion. She tried to keep the sadness of the truth from reaching her eyes, but she feared she was not entirely successful. "No, I simply lost the other one along with a few other things while I was gone."

Elizabeth was very pleased with the changes in her sister Mary. Before going to London, she had judged her younger sister too unbending in her outlook toward others. Her interaction with Mr. Bennet seemed to have taken the edge off her natural tendency to dismiss others for their failings. The irony of her evaluation of Mary was that she and her father had also been experts at condemning others. They, however, were skilled at reproaching with sly humour. Sometimes her father's sarcastic wit stung its recipient a bit too much, while Elizabeth had an archness combined with sweetness that was not as off putting as either his caustic gibes or Mary's sanctimonious criticisms.

Mary had developed a sense of humour during the past year. She told her sister it was the only way she could ensure harmony with her father. Every day he would almost reduce her to tears with his merciless barbs. His favourite target was her fervent religious beliefs. The day Elizabeth's letter had come advising the two of them to curtail their theological debates, she resolved to change. That night, as she lay in bed, she decided to fight wit with wit.

The next day, she launched her first successful foray into droll attacks on his character. She asked him with a stern face whether he was reconciled to going to Hell. He looked at her thinking she was as self-righteous as ever. Before he could pounce, she concluded he would be unable to collect all the needed species of beetles he had promised God. In fact, she was quite sure he had not added to his collection even one beetle in the last two years. Besides, she was beginning to doubt he would ever leave England, so how would he ever collect those in other lands. She told her father that maybe it was time to strike another bargain with God. Perhaps he could agree to be pleasant to his middle daughter until he was called. Mary knew she was successful when he threw back his head and laughed.

Elizabeth enjoyed spending time with Mary. They would chat and laugh as they worked. Elizabeth found it particularly agreeable that Mary, who had always been a great reader of sermons, had expanded her interests. Mary explained that she had recently become enamoured of Daniel Defoe. She had been reading some of his religious pamphlets when their father suggested she read his novels. Next thing she knew she was reading Jonathon Swift's Gulliver's Travels, which was said to parody Robinson Crusoe. She was hooked. She still read sermons, but felt the additional reading expanded her horizons.

Mary shared with Lizzy the other experience that had wrought a change in her. She found that learning to enter debits and credits in the estate's books had given her a new way of evaluating acquaintances. Before she made a judgment as to their character, she made a human ledger. She balanced all the new acquaintance's attributes against their flaws. She was amazed to realize that her first impression was often not what the ledger approach concluded. Elizabeth wished, as she listened to her sister's process for sketching a character, that she had developed such an important skill before she had gone to London.

About six months after Elizabeth arrived home, a young man, Mr. John Reynolds, came to fill the position of steward. He was eighteen, even taller than Mr. Darcy, and was Mrs. Reynolds' nephew. Lizzy believed she had heard a long lanky body like his--that had not yet reached its full potential--referred to as gangly. Despite his form not yet being set, his character seemed to have been in place since the cradle--he was quiet, calm and very respectful toward her father. He reminded her of his aunt in both his personality and the air of efficiency he projected.

Mrs. Reynolds soon wrote her through her uncle to tell her how pleased she was that her nephew had taken the position. She assured Elizabeth that he knew nothing of their acquaintance. The only news she relayed about her daughter was that her employers had baptized her Elizabeth Anne, and they called her Bethany. She also communicated that Mrs. Darcy was with child. Elizabeth worried that a baby of their own could jeopardize the treatment of Bethany; but decided she would trust Mr. Darcy to be honourable. Mrs. Reynolds seemed to know her news might cause anxiety. She spent much of the letter reassuring Lizzy of Mr. Darcy's scrupulous commitment to obligations.

Later when she received the letters from Mrs. Reynolds, Jamie and Bronwyn telling her of Anne's death, Elizabeth had sobbed. To add to her pain, Bronwyn had written that Lady Hughes had died giving birth the same day as Mrs. Darcy. Elizabeth was unsure why she felt such despair at the news. Anne had betrayed her, but that no longer seemed important. All she could feel was sorrow for her daughter and the other little ones being denied a mother, Mr. Darcy and Lord Hughes for losing their wives, but mostly for all the women who died trying to give the gift of life to another being. Even Mary Wollstonecraft, who had moved Elizabeth so with her words about the rights of women, had paid the ultimate price while delivering her daughter.

The day after Elizabeth learned of Anne Darcy's death, she was befriended by another. She often walked early in the morning both as an antidote to sleeplessness and to contemplate her most personal thoughts in private. This morning as she climbed Oakham Mount, she was unable to shake memories of the past and the woman and the man who had stolen her life. As she reached the crest, there he stood like a sentinel--the ugliest dog she had ever seen. He was huge and appeared to have some Irish Wolfhound in him--but his body was much more powerful. Sir Walter had kept several of the breed when she was younger. Elizabeth laughed as she speculated about this dog's parentage. Her favourite scenario was that he was the result of one of Sir Walter's Wolfhounds getting out and visiting the gaming den on the far side of Meryton. Years before, her Uncle Philips had been the source of the information that dog fighting and bull-baiting took place there. Her father, when she questioned him, had told her the dogs of choice for those sports were Old English Bulldogs. Somehow the characteristics of the two breeds did not blend, but instead seemed to exist as though the animal had been stitched together with pieces of several dogs. The short hair of the Bulldog would stop abruptly to make way for patches of the long wiry hair of the Wolfhound. The beast was brindled and had obviously been in numerous fights. Half his right ear was missing, and his left eye drooped from another injury. Though frightening looking, Elizabeth was drawn to him. Instinctively she knew he was destined to protect her, and they seemed to immediately accept each other as fellow outsiders. She laid out her blanket and sat to watch the sun rise over the meadow as she did most mornings. He lay down on the blanket beside her and put his head in her lap. Her hand was drawn to caress his mangled ear. She named him Caliban. Though she had sworn she would never think of The Tempest again, one look at the dog's deformities and the wisdom in his eyes--and she believed him to be a sign from above. Surely, he was sent to teach her to survive a life deferred as Caliban had taught Prospero.