Section I, Next Section
“Nature, time and patience are the three great physicians.”
Chinese Proverb
Chapter 1
Posted on Tuesday, 23 November 2004
During the tour of the great houses on their outing into Derbyshire, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner along with their niece, Elizabeth decided to include Pemberley to their list. They toured the manor, and were now strolling in the lovely gardens beyond the back of the house.
Although reluctant at first because of their past history, Elizabeth did allow to having a desire to see the wonderful house and grounds where Mr. Darcy spent his childhood, to see if Pemberley was the equal of all Caroline’s praises. As the carriage rounded a stand of tree to view the house and surrounding grounds, to Elizabeth’s delight she had to admit an agreement with the otherwise haughty Miss Bingley that Pemberley was all she had said and so much more. But as the carriage neared the house a strange sensation came upon Elizabeth; some odd stirring of her heart that Elizabeth could only recognize as awe combined with sadness.
The tour of the house gratified both Elizabeth and her relations, finding it elegant but with a comfortable air and ease that she favored over the gaudiness and grandiose furnishings she had encountered at Rosings Park. Soon after feelings of melancholia began to wrap about her like a cloak she could not dispel and continued deepening with marked distress as they viewed Darcy’s portrait in the gallery. The artist had captured his eyes precisely with Elizabeth swallowing as they gazed down at her, his presence seemingly acute.
How is it that his mere likeness in a painting can affect me so keenly?
Hiding her discomfort from her relations, they were escorted by the housekeeper to the back grounds to ramble through the magnificent gardens outside the main house. Elizabeth’s countenance improved somewhat, yet her unease lingered. She could not help but be enamored by all the glorious wonders about them, alive with colors and fragrances during this growing season. Her uncle replied that it showed the owner to be a connoisseur of natural beauty, a trait both she and he had in common. She had to admit the truth.
Yes, I could have been very content wandering all about this charming park.
She was hard pressed to free herself of her unhappy mood even as her favorite aunt and uncle strolled neared her conversing on the abundance of variety of shrub. Her aunt remarked on the elegance in the layout of the paths throughout the gardens that spoke of an appreciation of subtle control of nature by its owner.
Elizabeth smiled nodding in agreement trying to hide her sad mood while listening to her uncle expound on his enjoyment to venture nearer to the lakes, perhaps to spy some sport fish. He raised and lowered his bushy eyebrows for emphasis. Elizabeth laughed softly as her jovial uncle’s penchant for fishing.
“Niece, would you like to join us?”
She shook her head saying, “I think I would be rather walk the path through the large oaks further on, and will rendezvous with you in, say an hour’s time?”
Her aunt touched her cheek and wondered of her niece’s quiet somberness. “Lizzy, is not the park all the marvel that I had earlier declared?”
“More so,” was Elizabeth’s quick response. “Indeed, I could not have imagined such beauty,” adding, “I can see how you would enjoy it immensely, Aunt.” Smiling to further reassure her relations Elizabeth quipped, “And so are we agreed that you and Uncle Edward are to view the fish pond and I the oaks?”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded agreement to this plan, replying that they would depart soon after their regrouping once more. Smiling, Mr. Gardiner took his wife’s arm to stroll around a bend in the path.
The sun had not yet obtained its highest point in its arc, and was warming, but not yet sweltering on the summer day. Elizabeth walked further down the pathway thinking of the master of all she surveyed, her opinion having softened toward the man she had so despised when first they met in Meryton. To be now on his vast estate, she wondered if there would ever be a time where they could sit in this majestic park to discuss the contents of his letter.
Perhaps we could come to some understanding. I could apologize for all my angry words at Hunsford that we may at least be civil once more.
She had come to regret leaving off with such anger as they had on that day at the parsonage, remembering how when he left in obvious distress he still wished her well.
He had always been civil even in his presumptuous offer with all his reservations which were no more than a brutally honest assessment of my family. His actions on behalf of his friend were based merely on mistaken observations of Jane’s reserve and a failure to see her true feelings toward Mr. Bingley. And of course I now fully understand and concur with his reactions to Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth had even begun to miss the debates in which they had participated. While wandering the path crowded with large pink peonies bushes in full bloom, she recalled how Mr. Darcy seemed to delight in vexing her into stating opinions of which he so seldom agreed. Suspecting now that at those times he had disagreed with her merely to keep up the debate, to keep her talking to him. She sighed.
He is such a puzzling man, and I think he never showed his true self to any in Meryton.
Remembering how she found his puzzlement quite diverting at times especially in their discussions at Kent with his quick mind, she had come to admire his equal drollness in humor similar to her father’s. His being so well read, Elizabeth could depend on any citing he gave to be true. She still recoiled at his arrogance, but oft times used it to her advantage against him in their debates, and she knew he must have given her rebuttals some merit and study even if only to further those discussions.
Acknowledging only pertness in her responses which he found disarming at her every attempt to offend and insult him in return caused her such shame, continuing to be harsh of her behavior.
How could I have acted with such spite? Surely he might have thought me raised by gypsies to be so malicious, but he never made mention of how abhorrent he must have viewed my rudeness.
Even after they had left off with such harsh words the notion of his wish to marry her had never truly left her thoughts. It was as a small spark in a dark forest that could never be fully extinguished. She had never believed his declarations of love that he professed at Hunsford with all his conceit, but that he had noticed her and made the offer of marriage to no one but her continued to disturb her thoughts profoundly.
Of all the women who would have been delighted to marry him, I…I was the only one he asked. He must have cared for me, even if just a little.
She wondered if she too could have given him just a little more kindness in her refusal that they might have remained friends. But she knew he would never harbor thoughts of the kind beyond mere indifferent acquaintances after her horrid accusations, even if she thought them justified at the time. She now felt quite ashamed of her tirade toward him.
My father taught me better,
Her brows rose at her own thoughts as she finally admitted to herself.
Yes, I do miss him, or at least parts of his character. And I wish to one day in future that we may meet again in friendship.
Her reflective mood was overshadowed now by the quiet melancholy permeating the park that was made more acute amidst all the beauty surrounding her because she knew it was his gardens.
Oh, what is this sadness that pervades all about me as though the very earth seems to be crying from some great loneliness? How very odd that I of all people would feel so deeply moved. I, who have enjoyed wandering through countless many parks in my life would feel so forlorn in this one.
Her heightened anxiety now caused her to be almost overcome by such grief. Wondering how soon she might persuaded her relations to depart she came to a sudden revelation within her self.
This wonderfully peaceful park, the more I wander in it, the more I wish never to leave. But it belongs to him, and now I will never be welcome here.
My Burning Heart
My heart is burning with love
All can see this flame
My heart is pulsing with passion
Like waves on an ocean
My friends have becomes strangers
And I’m surrounded by enemies
But I’m free as the wind
No longer hurt by those who reproach me
I’m at home wherever I am
And in the room of lovers
I can see with closed eyes
The beauty that dances
Behind the veils
Intoxicated with lover
I too dance the rhythm
Of this moving world
I have lost my senses
In my world of lovers
~Rumi circa 1304
The sun began its daily trek into the cloudless sky as a lone rider approached from the London road and entered the drive of the park. His dappled horse slowed as the rider took an ample taste of a flask he carried in his coat pocket. Corking it once more, he returned it there, and sighed at having returned to the only home he’d ever known, however lonely it had now become.
How can it be the same when she is not here?
A disheveled appearance made no difference to the normally fastidious figure, and he allowed the horse to ramble where it would. Finally it halted beside the lake to partake in a long sought for drink. Alighting from the animal the rider gazed at the house then the surrounding grounds. His face showed a day’s growth over sunken cheeks. The road dust still clung to his clothing, but he seemed not to care. He removed his hat and untied his cravat to use it to wipe the sweat that now poured off his brow and neck. Unbuttoning his coat and shaking it from his torso, he loosed the shirt buttons confining his neck and sat among the reeds near the edge of the lake.
He lay down beside the restful waters, folding his arms behind his head. His eyelids were heavy with fatigue and the effects of the liquor. Despondently he sighed at the unfulfilled hope that he would somehow feel differently upon his return. He lay quietly for some time as the sun traveled further in the sky, his mind drifting.
Elizabeth walked a while amongst the giant oaks reflecting on their being probably centuries old, so strong and tall, able to withstand whatever nature hurled against them. She felt some comfort amongst their boughs, so safe and protected. Her thoughts wandered n her wish to remain in the safety of their trunks and never venture into harms ways as into society.
To be held in these massive limbs would give me such refuge. I would wish to remain here forever.
As she walked through the trees other thoughts likewise formed in her mind along with a sudden yearning for other strong arms to be wrapped in, but dismissed the thought as a hopeless one.
Do not even think of such an unlikeliness.
A rustling of the leaves directly to her left drew her attention, and she wondered if some forest creature had braved a closer venue to forage for food. She glanced in that direction and was shocked beyond belief, for coming through the shrub was none other than Mr. Darcy himself. Elizabeth froze in place at his approach, and her heart skipped in her chest at the sight of him.
She was then alarmed by his so altered appearance from when last she saw him at Kent. It was obvious he had lost weight for the clothes still upon his person hung loosely instead of the tailored fit as before. His face, beneath stubble, was gaunt and without a healthy glow, and dark circles beneath his eyes suggested a constant lack of sleep. His waistcoat and cravat he carried folded across his arm and his hat and crop he held in hand were wrinkled and covered with road dust. His unbuttoned vest hung loosely from his shoulders, and his shirt was opened about the neck and appeared damp. The road dust likewise covered his breeches and boots. His shoulders slumped with his lethargic stride to show his weariness from the long ride as he approached her position.
When Darcy focused upon her form his thoughts of despair evaporated into ones of such utter shock that froze him in mid stride before her. Each of them could have been statues in the garden with the only movement being her bonnet ribbons gently fluttering in the breeze.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said softly.
Her name was barely audible in reply. “Elizabeth.”
As he continued to gaze upon her, his countenance calmed with an understanding in his mind of how she came to be before him. After so many months of sleepless nights that always ended in a few exhausted hours of respite before dawn, Darcy realized he must have fallen asleep beside the lake and this was but another dream of her. His dreams were constantly of her now.
So overpowering was his gaze upon her that she had to cast her eyes to the ground, swallowing, feeling so ashamed of her being there.
What must he think of me? A mercenary come to his home in hopes of a renewal of his attentions, surely. Oh, how I wish I had never agreed to come.
His weary mind, however, completely accepted that what stood before him now was a vision for she would never truly be there in life. None of his dreams ever began exactly the same, but they all had one aspect in common. In each she was always with him, and they were always happy.
So, as one unsuspecting of any difference than what he had before envisioned, he allowed his mind free rein. Without hesitation he strode directly before her, smiling and he offered his explanation.
“Forgive my degree of undress, Madam.”
His unguarded statement accompanied his attempting to pat some of the road dust from his breeches puzzled her. “I am only just now arrived from London on horse, and decided to refresh myself by the lake before entering to the house…”
His voice trailed off as he returned his gaze upon his dream, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight as she stared back at him, speechless.
Propriety be damned. I cannot bear not to touch her.
To her complete shock his free arm wound around her waist, gently pulling her to him. Lowering his head, their lips met in a kiss so soft and lingering it seemed to go on forever. She could naught but respond in kind at so pleasurable an experience, his lips tasting of some sweet flavor. Her hand pressed against his chest, his arm encasing her in such a warm embrace her melancholy mood began to lift, being replaced with a sense of…belonging. Her mind could barely form but a thought.
Oh, how astonishing.
“ I have missed you,” he whispered, his bristly cheek caressing hers tenderly.
Reluctantly his arm relinquished her waist, but his hand moved down her forearm to take hold of hers, gingerly intertwining their fingers. Staring at her, he smiled sheepishly. She gazed back speechless, breathless. With a turn he started for the house with her in tow which brought her back to her senses.
“Mr. Darcy, you must not-“
“Come with me into the house that I might obtain more suitable attire. I have something I would show you.”
“What!?”
“You will be pleasantly surprised at my initiative.”
“What is it?”
“It is in your rooms.”
What does he mean it is in my rooms?
“Mr. Darcy, of what are you talking?”
He smiled, his face taking on a boyish air of mischievousness, pulling her toward the house with his saying only, “You will see.”
She tried to reason out to what he was referring as they made their way to the house entrance.
Has he met Uncle Edward who had accepted an invitation for us to stay the night? And has he then told his housekeeper to make ready rooms for us? Surely my uncle would not agree to this without first conferring with me.
From one of the upstairs windows a young maid exclaimed, “La, would you look at that! The master is come home a day early, Lucy, and is talking to the young lady who toured the house this morning.”
Both maids stopped their tasks long enough to view the exchange on the lawn, their mouths agape at the master’s actions.
“Oh, my, Hatty, tell me your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you as I think mine are. For sure as I am standing here beside you, did he not just take hold of her and kiss her?”
“That he did, Lucy, else my eyes are being tricked as well. I never seen the master act so tender to any female of his acquaintance afore. And look, see how he continues to hold her hand as they move toward the house?”
“I don’t blame him for not acting so with any of the ones he has brought before from town, especially that pinched faced Miss Bingley.” Here Lucy shuddered at the thought, then added, “but he seems quite taken with this young Miss, Hatty. What can it mean?”
Hatty smiled at Lucy, and said, “It means that the master has finally found someone to make him happy.” Lucy and Hatty giggled.
“That would be a great relief to have the master happy after so many months of being so glum, his only friend being in the wine cellar.”
“Aye that would be a pleasant change to have him interested in more than the brandy.”
They looked at each other and smiled at the thought of their master content for once, and through giggles and snorts they resumed their work. Both knew at supper how they would have the kitchen staff in astonishment at this juicy piece of gossip.
Chapter 2
(warning to all, this has a racy part)
Darcy and Elizabeth approached the house by way of the east wing. Nearing the French doors of the east parlor he relinquished her hand only long enough to open the door that they might enter, and insisted on holding it again as they ascended the stairs. This simple gesture did much to alleviate her anxiety at feeling she were intruding there. It was as if he were welcoming her to Pemberley. She tried to keep her heart from racing, wondering of the reason of his behavior, especially his kissing her.
Has he forgiven me all the mean things I said to him at Hunsford? Does he now wish to renew our friendship…or perhaps more?
If so, she began to see his logic in such a show of affection however inappropriate.
He is glad to see me. He said he missed me. Perhaps he feels freer to express his delight while at his own estate than elsewhere with all the constraints of society. I need only remind him of more proper conduct.
Wilkins, the butler, and a manservant were in the middle of a discussion when voices distracted both. They espied the two young people deep in conversation ascending the stairs below, completely oblivious to any witnesses. The couple rounded a corner out of sight before either man voiced a comment.
“Was not that the master, Wilkins? I thought he was not expected until tomorrow.”
“That indeed was the master, Gilford, and yes, he was not due to arrive with a large party until late tomorrow afternoon. Who was that young woman accompanying him?”
“I believe Mrs. Reynolds was giving a tour to a threesome earlier in the day, sir. Perhaps she is one of the party.”
“Perhaps,” the butler remarked without further comment other than to resume their conversation. After his reply Gilford departed to continue his duties, and Wilkins remained to think on the unusual display he had just witnessed.
The master has never before acted to a stranger with such tenderness since…
Here, Wilkins stopped, for he could not in his entire lifetime of service remember the master acting with such tenderness to anyone other than his own sister. And now to see his demeanor so changed, so seemingly content with this young woman was truly remarkable.
Wilkins shook his head trying to visualize Pemberley being occupied with the master he had just seen ascending the stairs. To have him replace the one known to the household these past months now, the less sober one, with each passing morning one so morose that it seemed everyone from his valet to the lowliest groom worried of his sanity.
That would be a sight to behold.
The couple walked through the corridor with Darcy asking of the health of her family and if she had enjoyed her trip. In his mind he dreamt that she had just returned from a visit to Longbourn. She, in turn, answered all his queries, smiling at the ease of his demeanor in his own domain, deciding she liked this side of him exceedingly well.
“I have always been grateful that you set me to rights regarding your sister’s feelings for Bingley. It was your reprimand which gave me enough fortitude to admit to Bingley of my interference. Because of you their happy outcome has come about.
Elizabeth was understandably astonished at this news. “You spoke with Mr. Bingley of Jane’s true feelings for him?”
“Yes, but I have neglected to relate to you the specifics of the occurrence. I went to his house, and begged his forgiveness for my officiousness.”
Her brows rose in shock at his admission. “I doubt Mr. Bingley ever thought you would do such. And what was his reaction, sir?”
“He forgave me most readily, being elated at the news that your sister did indeed have regard for him. I am delighted that they have been near inseparable since.”
Elizabeth couldn’t believe her ears at this startling news.
Why had I not heard a word of this from my sister?
Perhaps the mail was late in catching up with them on this tour. She could barely contain her joy for her sister’s happiness now at last realized.
How happy my entire family must be at this wonderful occurrence, and at the hands of this man walking now beside me.
She had to admit this Mr. Darcy is much improved from the one at Netherfield and Rosings.
They ascended the stairs in happy conversation when Elizabeth took note of their direction. Since the housekeeper had shown them nothing else above stairs, Elizabeth’s ease increased, for she could now guess what he wished to show her.
We are to again visit the portrait gallery, where his image hangs.
She teased, “I have seen the gallery that includes your portrait, Mr. Darcy. You know Mrs. Reynolds is especially fond of your likeness.”
He smiled as he glanced at her, stating in his easy manner, “But you do not agree with her opinion. You think I have a dour expression in the portrait which the artist captured at the time of its commissioning, my love.”
Elizabeth was shocked at his statement, or rather of his personal address of her, and knew she must immediately take him to task over all of his misbehavior.
“You should not address me in so familiar a fashion in public, sir. It is highly improper, to say nothing of your kissing me on the lawn in plain view. Even if we are on your estate, I cannot tolerate such a display. I am only saying this that there will be no further misunderstanding of your conduct.”
His smile broadened to show his dimples as they made their way down the hallway.
“Of course, if you wish.” But he tightened his hold on her hand.
She glanced at him several times as they silently made their way towards the gallery, but he seemed tolerant of her censure of him.
That did not seem difficult for him to accept after letting him know how I feel about such familiar manners.
Having now cleared the air over his breech of decorum, Elizabeth felt more content with him, and attempted to answer his question regarding the portrait.
“As to your likeness in the painting, yes, I do feel it replicated a certain…let me say, less than satisfied expression of your countenance, that perhaps reflected your mood at the time.” As they continued to walk down the hallway, he turned his eyes upon her and smiled.
“Indeed. But now I am sure it will have to be replaced with another of a more contented image.”
Here, he kissed her hand, and she gently pulled it from in his while shaking her head. He relinquished her hand only to gently take hold of her elbow as they rounded the corner of the hallway, and she turned to go toward the gallery, but he bid them go in the opposite direction.
“Come this way.”
“Mr. Darcy, where are we going?”
“To your rooms,” was his reply as they made their way up a second staircase and to the end of the hallway.
“My rooms?”
“Yes.”
“What is it that you wish to show me?”
“The new design I commissioned to be papered on the walls,” was his enigmatic reply.
“Inmy rooms?”
“Yes,” he said so decisively as to curtail any other discussion by her. They stopped at the end of the hallway. He smiled and opened the doors to a lovely suite of rooms recently redecorated in pale green paper with a faint design within.
He hung back as they entered the rooms. Placing his outer clothing and hat on a side chair for the time being, he silently observed her, walking behind and awaiting her reaction.
She moved closer to one of the walls and smiled, realizing his love of nature was the reason in his choice of design. Delicate fern fronds of various sizes and in shades of pale blue and jade graced the green foreground of a surrounding forest scene. The design gave serenity to the walls of the sitting room that carried into the bedchamber as Elizabeth inspected them. The walls communicated tranquility within the entire suite. Gazing closer to the larger fronds in the design, she pulled the glove from her hand and gently touched the raised texture, smiling.
It even feels like the delicate ferns. I can imaged myself in the midst of his park, at home in the haven among all the ferns.
“It’s lovely, Mr. Darcy,” she said removing her other glove. “Anyone abiding here for but a night would surely be content with your choice.”
“I knew you would approve. I know you so well now, Elizabeth.”
Confused by his statement she turned to focus on his face smiling at her in a loving way.
“Why would you say such a thing, Mr. Darcy? How could you know me so well?”
But instead of answering her question, he just smiled at her perceived tease. Gently placing his hands about her waist and pulling her into a warm embrace. He lowered his head and kissed her again, tentative at first, his lips gently touching hers. But unlike the kiss on the lawn, Darcy continued to deepen this one, communicating such a longing within him that she could resist for but a fraction of time before she began to respond with the same intensity, her hands taking hold of his arms to keep her balance. She reveled in her own reaction to such a memorable kiss.
How wonderful this feels.
When she finally managed to pull her lips from his, she stared at him astounded at her own behavior. She barely had breath enough to say, “I thought we just agreed on your…correcting your conduct toward me. “ His mischievous smile returned.
“I agreed only that I would not kiss you in public.”
When he heard her quickening breath, he hesitated as he stared into her eyes that seemed so inviting just now. It had not been his aim to begin anything more intimate at this hour of the day, but having felt her response, he sensed that she did not seemed at all displeased.
His hand moved to her neck and his head slowly neared her face once more. He kissed her again, deepening this kiss further still, his tongue parting her lips, exploring her mouth so soundly he heard her moan at her pleasure of it. He was glad at having delighted her, and knew she was thinking what he had felt too.
Oh, how exquisite.
Her mind tried to retain reason, but she was quickly becoming overwhelmed with his gentleness, feeling such contentment in his embrace as she had never before felt in her life.
“My sweet love,” he murmured kisses in her hair, his hand moved to her back, warm, encasing her in soft embrace.
Her thoughts rushed into her head from of how improper this was being here alone with him, how frightened she was that if she did not go soon someone might come in to discover them, but only one thought found cohesion to form and take shape.
His love?
While he again kissed her lips, she voiced her thought.
“You love me?”
She heard his soft laugh. “Have you still no idea how much?”
“But after Hunsford…”
As she stared into his eyes that now showed mild confusion at of an event that happened a lifetime ago, a smile played about his lips as he thought her teasing him again. His fingertip caressed the line of her jaw reaching her chin before he kissed her lips again.
His sigh was barely audible. “All was forgiven long ago, Elizabeth.”
She seems more real than any dream that has come before.
His next words seemed to affirm what thoughts. “As my wife, I wish you everything that you desire.”
His wife. Then this is a renewal of his addresses to me.
“Wife,” she sighed as his lips released her for a second to draw breath before descending upon hers once more. He smiled; his thoughts completely of her.
Yes, my lovely wife.
He held her close now, his mouth regaining hers. Of their own volition her arms moved up his chest, encircling his neck and her fingers tangling in his hair. He heard her soft sigh as he lifted her against him, filling him with such joy to have her with him. Cradling her head in his large hands, his lips caught hers again in a kiss so ardent as to confound her thoughts that she required some moments before her mind happily registered his words.
His Wife.
She tried to think that there was something she needed to ask him.
“You…need to speak with my uncle” she whispered, staring into his eyes, wanting him to state his intentions to the person responsible for her.
His hands caressed her face, a bewildered smile again in evidence at this statement, but in his mind he could think of nothing but to obey this radiant woman in his arms.
Anything.
“I will speak to him, Lizzy.”
With another ardent kiss she forgot whatever else she was about to ask, and began to kiss him back, feeling such happiness as she could ever imagine.
This is what I had longed for since I set foot here.
This gladdened him to know how his attentions delighted her. Yes, he knew she was but as a dream, but he didn’t care. The only thing that matter was that she was with him now.
“I have thought about you night and day since we parted.”
“You have?”
“And how upon your return I would have you know what it means to have you back.”
“My return?”
“Yes.”
His lips captured hers and his hands caressed her giving her little chance to speak or even to think. Holding her head in his hands, he repeatedly kissed her about the face and neck, and she felt her resolve weakening. She was quickly becoming overwhelmed with his gentleness, feeling such contentment in his embrace as she had never before felt in her life.
This feels so perfect being in his arms.
Her thoughts fought against her body which was betraying her mind in its response to his touch. She whispered in his ear. “I will be missed.”
Caressing her face he repeatedly kissed her lips, “Yes,” he whispered back. “it is I who shall miss you.”
Still her mind gave one last attempt at reason. “Fitzwilliam, should we not stop?”
Her whispered request caused him pause and wonder if he had truly sensed her wishes, had truly known her thoughts. He always become inflamed when she whispered his name, and gazed into her eyes now so alive with passion, and he again kissed her lovely mouth.
“Do you wish me to stop, my love?”
He saw the answer in her flushed face and eyes that sparkled from the flame that had grown inside her as she at last believed all of his professions at Hunsford.
He truly loved me…all this time.
Deep within her heart she allowed how much she too had grown to love him.
Her mind tried to remain focused on her surroundings. “No one will come?”
His hand caressed one of her cheeks while his lips caressed the other. She felt it getting very warm in this room. His voice was calm, reassuring. “No one will come.”
As he continued to kiss her lovely mouth his mind became lost in the belief that this dream was the beginning of one of his most delightful yet infrequent ones of his worshiping her during daylight, where they would be gently beguiled into an unhurried acceptance of the hour. His anticipation was almost more than his weary soul could wish.
With the power of Pemberley drawing them in, and now these rooms conspiring to soothe her mind amid all its tranquil walls that resembled his peaceful gardens. With his reassurances both Elizabeth and Darcy seemed utterly captured in the afternoon’s enchantment.
Afterwards, Darcy watched as she drifted into slumber within the security of his embrace. Sleep was not what he welcomed, however, knowing if he merely closed his eyes this glorious dream would be over and she gone from him again. This dream had been of such rapture, their lovemaking so sweet that he had no wish to ever awaken from it, to be without her again.
This time I cannot bear to let her go. How I love her.
So he kept his vigil over her soft form, fighting the weariness within his mind and body that wanted to take its due of him after the months of near sleeplessness. With sheer force of will kept his eyes open to view her loveliness until she awakened once more to see him, to love him.
Chapter 3
Posted on Tuesday, 30 November 2004
Several hours later the housekeeper departed the parlor where she had settled the couple who had come this day to tour the house and park that morning. They begged her assistance at locating their niece who had wandered somewhere on the grounds after separating from them. Mrs. Reynolds had just dispatched several of the servants into the park in search of the young lady and another to order tea and refreshments when Hatty approached Mrs. Reynolds turning from the group of servants departing to obey her orders.
“Mrs. Reynolds, the bell just rung from the mistress’s rooms, and cook asked me to go see who was about in them. Could it be the master is there inspecting the wall paper again?”
The housekeeper looked dumbfounded at this question. “The master?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“The master is here?”
“Yes, ma’am, Lucy and me saw him earlier this afternoon with the young lady on the lawn.”
“He was with a young lady?”
“Yes, ma’am, and he…well, he…” Hatty stammered and blushed as her thought of him.
“Hatty, tell me what you saw.”
The maid lowered her voice and leaned closer to Mrs. Reynolds. “Ma’am, he…he kissed her while they was on the lawn, and he held her hand as he led her to the house.”
The housekeeper was astonished at this news, but knew she must somehow keep the master’s dignity against gossip. “Have you or Lucy told anyone of this?”
“No, ma’am, but we saw no harm if at dinner we was to tell the kitchen staff-”
“You will tell no one of what you saw! Do you hear me? I will not have you gossip about the master. He has been too good to you and your family for you betray him in this way.”
“We meant no harm, ma’am. We only wanted to let the others know of his contentment after all these months of being so gloomy. I won’t tell a soul, ma’am, and I’ll go to Lucy directly to keep her from speaking of it.”
“If I ever hear that either of you has related such gossip to anyone, it will cost you your positions.”
“Oh, no, ma’am, please, you needn’t worry. We won’t speak a word of it!”
And with that off the young girl ran to find the other maid to stress what was at stake if they should talk of this to anyone.
Mrs. Reynolds watched the young maid’s retreat, and then turned toward the staircase, determined to find out who had rung the mistress’s bell, all the while wondering who else had seen the master with the young lady. She came across the butler on her way.
“Mr. Wilkins, may I have a word with you?” When they were away from others she asked in a quiet voice, “Are you aware that the master has returned early from town?”
“Yes, Madam, I was only aware of it a few hours ago, and was busy making sure of the arrangements. Did you not know of his arrival?”
“No, I was not informed of it until just now.”
“Gilford and I saw him ascend the stairs from the parlor with a young woman. When I asked Gilford who the lady was, he thought perhaps she was one from the tour you had given earlier in the day.”
“Does anyone else know of this?”
“I have made several of the servants aware of the master’s arrival, Mrs. Reynolds. No one else has spoken of his being about, as he has not been seen since.”
Mrs. Reynolds was very ill at ease at this news and of such odd behavior of late by the master, wishing to know of his whereabouts before she informed anyone of her suspicions.
“Tell no one else of his arrival at the moment. I must see to something in the meantime.”
“Very good, Madam.”
Wilkins turned to go about his duties leaving Mrs. Reynolds to speculate at the added information. She renewed her efforts to gain entrance into the Mistress’s chambers, more curious than ever now to know who was about there.
The shadows had lengthened on the partially shaded windows when Elizabeth finally began to stir within Darcy’s warm embrace. She opened her eyes still glowing in the aftermath of at last knowing how much one person could love another. She knew that what she had allowed was very wrong, contrary to everything her parents had taught her, had warned her to guard against. But as she gazed at Darcy’s loving eyes her heart told her that this man loved her so completely, that when he stands before her uncle to inform him of their wish to marry Fitzwilliam would vow to cherish her and keep her safe.
It was then that she noticed the now lengthening shadows she slowly became aware of its meaning that the day was drawing to a close. Her mind unclouded as her senses returned, suddenly bringing her brought back to the stark reality of just how long they had been here. Her trembling began anew.
“What is the time?”
Her mind began to think of her relations and how they must be frantic wondering where she had gone. Then a second worrisome thought followed. Although she had not seen anyone when they entered the house or the hallway but in her mind she was certain some of the servants were about.
Someone must have known where we had gone and we shall be found out before Uncle Edward can be told!
“Oh, no,” she whispered, sitting up suddenly. “Oh, please, no.” Telling her uncle was one thing but having their indiscretion known of and talk of by the servants and possibly the town before matters could be settled was another matter entirely. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of the ruin she had now brought upon herself…her sisters…all her family.
“No, no, please, no.”
“Lizzy, what is it?” Darcy’s tired mind had almost succumbed to the lure of sleep, and had to fight to focus on her anxiety. His breath was hot now against her suddenly cold face. He rubbed her arms to warm them, wondering at and then realizing her distress.
Is she worried that one of gossip of our doing this at such an hour?
“None one will speak of this, Lizzy. The servants are discreet. All is assured.”
His whispered assurances began to calm her she stared into his eyes. She felt his warmth of his hands around her icy fingers, wanting to trust him, but still thinking the worst.
My aunt and uncle must be searching for me by now. What will they say?
“But what of my uncle? You promised, you-”
Who is this uncle whom she wishes me to meet? No matter.
“And I will speak to him, Lizzy. There is nothing to fear, my heart. I will see to it.”
Darcy encircled her in his strong embrace, a sanctuary where she felt safe. Her mind wanted to believe what he said, wanting him to protect her, wanting to avoid thinking of anything else.
“No one will talk of this? No one will know?”
“Elizabeth, all is well,” he whispered breathing into her mouth as he kissed her, trying to calm her concerns of discovery, amazed and confused at her naiveté in this dream.
“Calm yourself. I will speak to whomever you wish.”
With his repeated assurances, she calmed, feeling shielded within this haven where no harm could come to her.
He will speak to my Uncle Edward directly they meet to make the arrangements. How astonished he will be at my behavior, no more so than I.
With gentle fingers Darcy caressed her forehead, and his lips kissed her cheek tenderly, and he felt her growing calm sitting beside him, Elizabeth content now within his arms.
We shall soon be married and this incident will not be spoken of.
As fatigue tried to claim him once more, he felt utterly exhausted but euphoric.
Elizabeth’s calm grew at the thought of him as her protector. She knew he could depend on him.
He will keep me safe.
Darcy felt so elated, more so than at any other time in the months after Kent, happy now to be with her, to hold her close in a dream so completely satisfying.
“Stay with me forever, Lizzy.” He kissed her hand, intertwining her fingers with his, his voice slurred, his exhaustion taking hold of him.
“I promise,” she whispered back.
His eyes blinked several times, his mind sinking into lethargy. “Our sons will be so happy.”
Sons, she thought. Every man’s wish, realizing he was thinking to the future to see their family that included sons to be his heirs.
“Sons? Only sons?” She teased him, caressing his cheek, and he had to will his eyes to remain opened to stare into her.
“I would very much like to have a daughter,” he whispered, his gaze hopeful.
She stared back thinking how wonderful his eyes were, and smiling at his wish to have a daughter to begin their family.
She asked, “Not your heir?”
His eyes fluttered again and lay back on the bed, his head falling heavily on the pillow. “No, not at this time.” Then he whispered barely audible as sleep tried to overtake him. “Our boys would surely like to have a sister now, I think.”
Now her unclouded mind began to register his words more clearly.
“What is that, Fitzwilliam?”
Encouraged, he rambled on. “They will return home soon from their summer at Matlock House, return to their father and mother. “
Her mind began to reel at his statement.
Of what is he speaking? What sons? Return to their father and mother. Could he mean…us?
“But, Fitzwilliam, you have yet to speak with my uncle to make the arrangements. We are not yet married. I am not yet-“
“You have made me so happy these past five years,” he murmured, fatigue having now allowed him to voice his dream world to her. He was still holding her hand. “We have been so happy here with our boys and now perhaps to have a daughter as well, my love.”
Her mind raced through all he had said, fear building within her now. “Fitzwilliam, what are you saying? Fitzwilliam, what are you talking about?”
His body was at last succumbing to his lack of proper sleep for many months, to his having made the ride from London on horse, and now to have had such intimacy with Elizabeth for the greater part of the afternoon. He was finally too exhausted beyond his abilities to remain awake.
“Lizzy, my sweet, let me rest a while …stay with me here.”
“But Fitzwilliam, you must speak to my uncle. Fitzwilliam?” Tears welled into her eyes as she began to be frantic at his disclosures.
“You are the most wonderful wife…a man could ever wish to have.”
No longer able to remain awake, he fell into a deep slumber while caressing her hand gently.
When she heard his soft snoring beside her, all that he had said before and all that had taken place came rushing back. Her heart was distraught as she finally reasoned it all out.
Oh, my G-d! He is delirious! He thinks we are already married…that I am already his wife… already…a mother!
She gasped in utter shock as she realized the true nature of all that had occurred, and trembled with fear.
She looked at his serene sleeping face, a smile playing about his lips, and her heart ached at what now could never be due to his lunacy.
I can never be married to him in his deluded state. How can I have done this after all I had been taught? I have to think of what to do!
Sudden resolve came to her in a flash.
I have to get out of this room and away from him before we are discovered together!
She knew this might be her only chance to escape that fate, so very slowly she pulled her hand from his, trembling for fear of his waking. She eased off the bed.
Standing, she smoothed her skirts in place, straightening her bodice, then trying to re-pin her hair with few hairpins she took a step. “Oh,” she halted, finding herself suddenly unsteady. Gazing at him for the last time, knowing she could never be united with him now, she was overcome with grief, stumbling as she stepped away from him. Her legs unable to support her, she reached for anything as she fell, accidentally pulling the bell cord before collapsing onto the floor, crying softly and trying to catch her breath.
“Lizzy?” He called out in his sleep, sensing her distress. As tears fell from her eyes she covered her mouth, to restrict his hearing her sobs lest he awaken to prevent her from making her escape. After a few moments Elizabeth again heard his soft snoring, and she began to breathe once more, trying to take deep breaths to give her strength to regain her feet and depart the room.
I watch
as the sky falls.
I walk,
as the ground crumbles.
I feel,
as my lips numb.
I attempt to fly,
but then I stumble.
I cry
but my tears are dry.
I scream,
but my voice just fades.
I kneel
but my faith silently dies.
I pray,
for the sins I must pay.
I remember,
as I briefly see the light.
I dream,
but I'm returned to the night.
I fall,
as everything around me fades.
I love,
yet I know I cannot stay.
~Revelations
Chapter 4
It was fortunate for Elizabeth that the housekeeper was the one to answer the bell. Had a maid or manservant responded to the bell Elizabeth would have been hard pressed to relate what had happened. She could barely think what to say when Mrs. Reynolds appeared.
Upon now entering the mistress’s chambers the housekeeper’s face was one of complete shock at seeing first Elizabeth breathless, crying, but making a vain attempt to rise to a stance. Mrs. Reynolds’s eyes moved to view the master atop the bed asleep, rumpled bed coverings about him.
Mrs. Reynolds rushed to Elizabeth. “What-what has happened, Miss? Has he…” She could barely form the words in her mouth. “…compromised you?”
Elizabeth could barely raise her head, terrified at being discovered, trying not to shed more tears at her mortification. She clung frantically to the elder woman.
I am ruined. I have ruined us all.
Mrs. Reynolds realized at once her first duty was to her master, but seeing he was serenely sleeping, she knew she could first attend this young woman before she looked after him. Retrieving the counterpane from the end of the bed, she hastily covered his torso. Then she hurried returned to Elizabeth.
“Oh Miss,” was her first response as she gently wiped her tear stained cheeks as Elizabeth trembled. “If you able to walk I can assist you to the washroom nearby and better help you there.”
Elizabeth looked to Mrs. Reynolds in panic, grabbing her arms. “No one else must know of this, please!”
“Of course,” Mrs. Reynolds agreed, helping Elizabeth to stand and slowly removing her from the bedchamber to the washroom a few doors down the deserted hallway. Mrs. Reynolds noticed how heavily Elizabeth leaned on her for support, and her mind reeled at the thought of the master who she had known from infancy having done this.
“It is only a few more steps now, Miss.”
They entered the room where Mrs. Reynolds shut and locked the door. Slowly lowering Elizabeth onto the bench next to the wet sink and poured cool water from the ewer into the basin. She soaked a cloth and brought it to Elizabeth’s face and neck. Then pulling a screen between them, she allowed Elizabeth her privacy with Mrs. Reynolds silently tended her, handing Elizabeth a soothing herbal balm containing comfrey to give some relief. Lastly Elizabeth adjusted her clothing, and when nodded that she was complete, Mrs. Reynolds removed the screen, noticing first the color of the water in the basin before focusing on this young person before her. Finally assured that her injury was not more serious, Mrs. Reynolds sat on the bench beside Elizabeth and took her in her arms while the young woman wept anew.
“There, there, Miss.” Mrs. Reynolds hugged her, rocking her gently as though a child for a long while until Elizabeth finally exhausted her tears for the moment. Then wiping her cheeks with a dry handkerchief Mrs. Reynolds reasoned that Elizabeth was now able to make some reply.
The housekeeper scrutinized the face of this young woman whom she had only met this day and taken an instant liking. There was something about her, something the master must have sensed too to have acted in such a manner as she had never known him capable. Mrs. Reynolds was still in shock wanting to know how this event could have occurred to such a modest young person before her.
How this could have taken place in this house and by of all people, the master?
Mrs. Reynolds would not have believed it possible had she not seen the proof, but was hesitant to inquire as to the circumstances that brought about such an occurrence, knowing that at these times, a caring presence might be of more comfort than a prying one.
Elizabeth, however, seemed to have the need to understand as much as she, and to unburden herself to the only person now aware at the moment of this most dreadful event, sensing she could be trusted. Without prodding Elizabeth began in a trembling voice.
“He…he began to refer to me as…his wife, as though we had…been married for some years. He even said we had…sons. When he spoke of a wish for a daughter he…he…he…” Here Elizabeth began to cry again.
“Oh, Miss,” Mrs. Reynolds whispered holding her close again, not knowing how the master could have had such thoughts, said such things. Elizabeth begged an answer through her tears.
“Did Mr. Darcy ever have a wife to be now deluded in thinking I am she?”
“No, Miss. The master has never been married.”
“Then what has caused him to now lose his wits?”
Mrs. Reynolds sighed and shook her head, sensing this woman could be trusted to be privy to the master’s own malaise of late that may explain his bazaar behavior.
“I know not what has plagued him for these long months now, Miss. The master began to act oddly after his return from the estate of his friend, Mr. Bingley.”
“What?” Fear beginning to creep into Elizabeth’s mind.
The housekeeper continued. “But it was not until his return from his aunt’s in Kent that he began to act so contrary to his nature.”
Elizabeth’s dread continued to build. “How?”
“The master has never been one to drink much, Miss, but upon his return from Kent he began to drink a great deal, always alone at night in his study, neglecting both his duties and his sister. Miss Georgiana became very concerned for his welfare, as did we all. She finally solicited the aid of their cousin. The Colonel tried to convince the master to accompany them into town, but at first without success.”
Elizabeth became more agitated hearing this.
Oh, please no!
Mrs. Reynolds said further, “both prevailed upon him, and he finally relented, and accompanied them into town where they had a physician come to visit. Attributing his behavior to some melancholy, he suggested diversion as a counter measure. The master’s family must have cajoled him, or forced him into socializing, going to plays and the theatre, his fencing lessons and his chess club, anything to keep his mind occupied from whatever had him in so despondent.”
The hairs on Elizabeth’s neck stood on end as Mrs. Reynolds related Mr. Darcy’s recent behavior, unshed tears flooding her eyes.
Am I the cause of this?
“Georgiana sent an express to me stating that she thought him improving, and that they were to stay in town for the whole of the spring and summer, and would return in fall. I was relieved to hear of this. Even Colonel Fitzwilliam was relieved at the master’s progress when orders came for him to leave them for a brief assignment.”
This last statement confused Elizabeth. “Why then…how can it be that Mr. Darcy came now to be at Pemberley?”
“The steward informed me of a missive he had received two days ago from the master himself, telling of his return to the country, and to prepare rooms for the friends he was bringing. All of us were lighthearted by the news that the master had improved enough to again invite friends to join him at Pemberley. We expected them on the morrow. No one had any idea that his return would be a day early.”
“This is all my fault,” Elizabeth whispered, closing her eyes, sorely dejected. Mrs. Reynolds looked at her in disbelief.
“How can you possibly be to blame for his behavior, Miss?”
Elizabeth gazed into the eyes of this now trusted confidant and confessed, “because…I am the one from Hertfordshire he came to desire.” Mrs. Reynolds waited for more. “And while we were both in Kent, he at Rosings and I at the parsonage, he…made me an offer of marriage, and…I…I refused him!”
Mrs. Reynolds eyebrows shot up in great surprise that anyone would refuse her master, and that this young woman would now feel such fault that her refusal had caused the master to act in such a way.
“I beg your pardon for asking, Miss, but why would you refuse the master?”
“His proposal was made with such arrogance and haughtiness, his demeanor conceited and condescending. He acted as though all of us in Meryton so far beneath him, and spoke with such distain that everyone in the village were sick of him. His proposal was likewise spoken with such pretension as though he were granting me favor instead of his professing his love…”
“That does not sound like the master.”
Elizabeth sniffed back tears threatening to refill her eyes as she thought of Jane.
“And he…was the means of separating his friend from my sister who was left broken hearted. When I accused him of this in Kent, he…praised his efforts and was glad of it.”
“That is not how the master acts here, Miss. He is kind and generous to all.”
“I only know how he acted to me and mine in my own neighborhood.”
Mrs. Reynolds thought of how the master had been so altered after his return from Kent, and knew that he had never been refused anything in his life. Now to have someone so far beneath his own social station refuse his hand must have been a terrible blow for such a man as the master.
He must have been devastated.
Mrs. Reynolds patted Elizabeth’s hand, encouraging her to finish her narrative.
“When my relatives suggested including Pemberley on our excursions in the North Country I was hesitant. When asked, the maid at the Lambton Inn assured us of the family being away. I saw no harm in viewing such a grand park, and had to admit a curiosity at seeing what I have given up by my refusal.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath.
“While in the music room you made me aware of his imminent arrival, and I was relieved that we would be gone before that time. Having separated from my aunt and uncle as we toured the back gardens I was shocked to see him approach from the stables to near me unannounced. He began to talk to me as though…he had forgiven me…that I at first thought we could now be…friends.”
At this point Elizabeth shook her head and stared into Mrs. Reynolds’s kindly eyes.
“When he took me into the house to show me the new wallpaper in my rooms, he began to renew his addresses to me in a most ardent way. I thought…his lapse in behavior due to his being in his own home…and this was how he chose to propose to me again. I…was astonished but glad of his renewed attentions towards me…pleased that he still admired me for my heart had softened over these months, and I thought now that I was at last privy to his true character…I could accept him…and I…I…allowed him liberties that I would never have otherwise…”
She had to take a breath to hold back tears that threatened once more. “I…was so caught up in his attentions that I…forgot to use good judgment…was so…overwhelmed by his tenderness, when we…I…was no longer listening when he began to address me as already his…wife.”
Here she broke down again into sobs. The amazed housekeeper was baffled at such a tale of her master’s behavior.
What on the earth has possessed the master to have such thoughts?
Elizabeth looked intensely at the housekeeper and confessed, “Oh, Mrs. Reynolds, when I refused him at Kent, we had such harsh and angry words. If I had only held my tongue, refused him in a gentler manner, then this would never have happened. He would have never gone…out of his mind to imagine such a family with me as his wife.”
“Oh, Miss. You are not to blame,” Mrs. Reynolds tried to placate the young woman beside her, but Elizabeth would not be reconciled as to her own behavior.
“I should have been able to make him see reason. I should have been able to stop him somehow.” With tears falling free again, Elizabeth finished with, “I am so ashamed.”
“My dear, there is nothing you could have done. He is so much stronger than you. There would have been no way to escape him when he forced himself upon you.” Elizabeth looked so down hearted.
She doesn’t understand.
“But, Mrs. Reynolds, he didn’t force me.”
“I do not understand you, Miss. I have seen proof that he has taken you. “
How can this young woman be to blame?
Elizabeth tried to make the woman understand as she made her confession.
“There was a point when he was…so gentle and tender, so loving, that I…I succumbed.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes remembering the waves of pleasure, and she felt such shame at her enjoyment of them.
“Then I…gave him leave to continue. Oh, Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth cried her confession. “How could I? Why was I not able to stop? Why did I not want him to stop? I never knew I could be so wanton.”
She stared at the housekeeper through misted eyes. Mrs. Reynolds now surmised most of what had transpired with the couple. It had never been an act of violence by the master upon this young woman. In his delusion, he was making love to his wife, being so gentle with her.
That sounds more like the master if even in a deluded state.
She comforted the young miss. “No, you are not wanton, my dear. The feelings you describe are those of all happily married couples in their marital duties. It is very natural to feel such pleasure.”
Elizabeth nodded still not assuaged of guilt, but grateful that she was not viewed by the housekeeper as someone of questionable morals to have such feelings. “I am glad then to have experienced those feelings once, for I now know what I am never to be allowed for the remainder of my life.”
“Why would you say such a thing, Miss? You are young and have your whole life ahead of you.”
“Who would marry me now that I am no longer a…chaste? No one, I am sure. When I tell my uncle of what has happened, he will insist upon my marrying Mr. Darcy, but I would not be allowed to marry someone who is out of his mind.”
“No, of course not.”
“And when word of this gets out, likewise none of my sisters will ever have the chance to marry. No, my entire family will be ruined because of my indiscretion…my behavior…”
Her voice trailed off, tears trailing down her cheeks once more when Mrs. Reynolds asked the most pertinent question.
“Did you chance upon any of the servants when you entered the house?”
“Not that I was aware, but surely some must have been about.”
“And you saw no one as you entered the suite of rooms?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Miss, how many people then know of your encounter?” Elizabeth wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“I know of only three by my count, you, me, and Mr. Darcy.”
Mrs. Reynolds knew of several others, but also knew of their loyalty to the master. “Do you think the master will remember when he awakens?”
“I…had not thought he would forget so easily.”
“But as you said he was under some delusion when you met him today. If you are not here when he awakens, might he think you were but a phantom in a dream?
Elizabeth stared at the housekeeper, trying to see a way out of this dilemma.
Could it be possible that the two of them conspire to keep this secret?
“What of my aunt and uncle? Do they not have a right to know what has happened to me by his hand?”
“What are your thoughts?”
Elizabeth was silence for a moment before replying. “If I keep quiet of it they would not be shamed by the scandal. All my family would be spared the retribution of society.”
Elizabeth swallowed with resignation at having to conceal such an act from her family, especially her uncle Edward who had always tried so diligently to keep all his nieces out of harm’s way.
He would take on the guilt of my being the one whom he could not protect.
Mrs. Reynolds patted her hand. “If that is what you wish to do, you have my word that I will never relate any of what has transpired here this day.”
“I thank you,” Elizabeth whispered relieved but also saddened.
There was the one question hanging between them that neither wanted to voice. Finally it was Elizabeth who began.
“But…he…completed…he…we…consummated…I allowed…”
“I know,” Mrs. Reynolds said quietly, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “But we will not know for several weeks if you have conceived…if you have become with child from this occurrence.”
Elizabeth stared in Mrs. Reynolds face. “Then…it is possible that I am not…? But I thought that…” Elizabeth shook her head at her own naiveté giving way to reason.
Of course, not every coupling results in a child. Surely during their lengthy marriage even my own parents would have wished such pleasure more than the five times in which each daughter was conceived. Hopefully this will be no different.
“We have no means of knowing one way or the other, my dear, except to await your courses.”
Elizabeth remained silent, only nodding in agreement. They both must keep this secret for several weeks at least.
I will continue on the tour with my aunt and uncle. Mr. Darcy will awaken, his mind lost in his own delusions.
“I would have you write to me, Miss, within a month’s time, and let me know,” Mrs. Reynolds advised. “Whatever takes place, I will need to know how to act.”
She raised Elizabeth’s chin that their eyes met in understanding. “If the master has sired a child, he will wish to know of it.”
“But he is addled.”
Mrs. Reynolds nodded, but continued.
“Of course if he awakens still deluded, searching for his phantom wife, then there is nothing else to be done. We will have to deal with his care with the aid of his relations. But should he awaken returned to his senses, and thinking you but a dream, he should be told of his deed, if you write of the need of it. I am certain the master would consent then to acknowledge that he is the father of the child whether or not you have other support. He truly is a kind and generous man, Miss.”
But Elizabeth was not certain if his generous nature would be extended to her, for she had begun to doubt him. How could she not doubt his stated devotion during such intimacy after realizing his mind’s affliction?
Were they his true affections for me or the ramblings of a man while in a deluded state?
“Mrs. Reynolds, I am not sure of this course of action.”
“The master would be completely devastated if he were not given this knowledge that his misbehavior had produced his progeny.”
Elizabeth was still confused as to what to do.
I can survive the censure and an old maid’s existence, but I would not wish to bring a child into the world or such a sin of disgrace upon it or my family.
The housekeeper gazed into this young woman’s distraught face measuring her mettle before deciding to make the other suggestion that could solve her dilemma. “There…is a draught that can be procured from midwives* that causes the onset of your courses...whether or not…”
Elizabeth stared at her for the longest moment trying to decipher to what Mrs. Reynolds was referring, and then gasped at the sudden realization. Finding it hard to breathe, Elizabeth swallowed. The thought of delivering a child into her family’s household without benefit of a father or a husband seemed horrible enough to envision, but to deliberately...She shook head.
“No,” she whispered. That was not the choice for her. With determination she gazed into the housekeeper’s face. “I will write to you when I return to Longbourn, and make you privy to whatever has taken place, sooner if I have news.”
Mrs. Reynolds exhaled, relieved at Elizabeth’s decision, glad that no one else need know of the situation before them.
Both remained silent as Elizabeth stared at her hands, and said softly, “my…bonnet and gloves are still within the room.”
“Rest here a moment while I retrieve them,” Mrs. Reynolds replied, and left the washroom for but a very short time, only time enough for Elizabeth to re-pin her hair as best she could and wonder of the actions which she had just agreed.
I wish I could talk to my aunt of this, but she would certainly relate it to my uncle. And if Jane were here what could I say to her of it? No, I am completely alone in this.
And thinking of Jane and then of Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth remembered Mr. Darcy’s statements of mending the rift between the two, wondering what was real and what was fantasy.
Was Jane’s happiness also part of his delusion as much as his?
Elizabeth had no additional time to dwell upon her wonderings with the return of Mrs. Reynolds who aided Elizabeth in attaching and tying her bonnet, then helping her into her coat, buttoning up her Spencer, and handed her the gloves and reticule along with what hair pins she managed to find. Elizabeth absently placed them in her reticule.
Mrs. Reynolds nodded and then asked, “are you now ready to be united with your relations?” Elizabeth merely nodded.
Helped to her feet Elizabeth managed to walk the distance to the door, halting as Mrs. Reynolds unlocked it and made sure the way was clear.
“If I may ask, what do you plan as an excuse for so great an absence?”
“I think,” Elizabeth replied, trying to catch her breath while holding onto Mrs. Reynolds arm, “that I might say…that I accidentally fell down a slope in the gardens, landing unceremoniously while out of their presence, and rather than cry out of my embarrassment, I chose to slowly make my way back to the house. But…that I do not require any attention that would further delay the remainder of our tour…just possibly lessen some of my more…strenuous activities.”
Mrs. Reynolds was amazed at this most creative story swiftly fashioned by this young woman, so very similar to the master himself with his sharp mind.
I can see why he would be attracted to this young woman as compared to the vapid creatures from town.
Mrs. Reynolds teased her. “You are very quick to invent such a tale, Miss.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Reynolds, with all my walking such an invention would not be so far a field from the truth.”
They slowly made their way down the hallway and staircase towards the parlor in which her aunt and uncle were taken when they applied to the housekeeper at not locating their niece. When Mrs. Reynolds had asked the girl’s relations to continue there she assured them that she would soon establish their niece’s whereabouts.
By the time the two women approached the closed door of the parlor, Elizabeth had managed to cover her discomfort well enough to fool any servant who happened by. Elizabeth smiled at the housekeeper, proud of her accomplishments. When they stopped before the doors, Elizabeth spontaneously hugged her, and whispered, “I depend on you now, Mrs. Reynolds. Do not fail me, I beg you.”
“You have my assurance, Miss,” repeated the older woman, now to be a trusted friend. She leaned in and kissed Elizabeth’s forehead as she would her own daughter. This gentle gesture did much to comfort Elizabeth, and she smiled at her new friend.
“You will write to me,” Mrs. Reynolds commanded. Elizabeth nodded. “Good, I will have your phaeton brought to the front that you may depart as soon as you feel strong enough. Safe journey, my dear.”
With a final hug from Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper opened the doors to the parlor to reunite the family, quickly withdrawing to give them their privacy, shaking her head in wonder at all that had occurred this day.
*There were several herbs and fungi used in the time by both doctors and midwives to stimulate uterine contractions. None of them were without terrible side effects, and even today’s modern equivalents are not without risks.