Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV
Chapter the Seventeenth ~ Weddings and Worries
Posted on Friday, 17 August 2007
The day following Jane's engagement, Elizabeth did not see Georgiana at breakfast. Mrs. Lacey had informed the mistress that Miss Darcy was indisposed and had requested a tray. Elizabeth could tell from a glance that both Jane and Darcy shared her concern about Georgiana. For her own part Elizabeth could scarcely look in her husband's piercing yet sorrowful eyes, and averted her gaze immediately. She was overcome with shame for the way she had behaved the previous night. The very thought of fleshly pleasures had been repulsive to her ever since Wickham had imposed himself upon her, but when she had been alone with Darcy she had been irresistably drawn to his person. Enthralled by the musculature of his body. She wondered if he had realized that she had opened his shirt. What would he think of her? Behaving so wantonly, and in her condition! And this after making it clear she was not ready to consummate their union. On the other hand, Darcy was mortified at his own actions. How could he allow himself to become drunk and impose his presence on his beloved Elizabeth in her private chamber, and in her bed, and then proceed to do God only knows what?! He could not even recall what had happened, but given Elizabeth's reaction in the morning it could only be something abominable. He feared the worst and could barely face her.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, each of the three family members eating quietly and pensively. When it was over, Jane excused herself to write some letters, undoubtedly to share her happy news. When she was gone, Elizabeth looked up to see Darcy staring at her from across the table, his expression such a mixture of emotion. She could not withstand his gaze and quickly arose from her seat. She sighed just before turning to leave the room and said, without looking at him, "Perhaps you should speak to Georgiana."
Darcy watched the door to the breakfast room close behind her. He knew she was right. Yesterday he had thought it best for Elizabeth to attempt to comfort his sister because Georgiana had previously confided in her. But now it was clear his sister thought Elizabeth's treatment of her duplicitous. Gone was the candid confidence that had subsisted between them. It was time for him to have a heart-to-heart talk with Georgiana -- perhaps something he should have done sooner than now. But as much as he loved his sister and as much as she needed him at present, he could scarcely think of anything but the night before. Elizabeth had said she did not wish to speak of what had happened, yet he could not rest until he knew for sure what had occurred between them. Had he taken advantage of her in his drunken stupor? If he had, he was no better than Wickham! He buried his face in his hands as his body wracked with the feelings of self-recrimination that coursed through him. Then he clenched his fists, forcing himself to sit upright and gather his strength. Once composed, he rose from the table and forced his steps towards his sister's chambers with a heavy heart.
He knocked on the door and there was no response. He knocked again and said, "Georgiana?" in a comforting tone.
"Go away," responded the small voice on the other side of the door.
"Georgiana," he said more sternly, stunned that she would say such a thing to him, "I must speak with you. Admit me or I will admit myself." A moment later, the door opened.
He walked over to the sofa and sat down, motioning for her to sit next to him. She complied. "What is the matter?" he began.
"I am not feeling well. That is all."
"Does your . . . indisposition have anything to do with Mr. Bingley's engagement?"
"So Elizabeth has betrayed my confidence to you," she said bitterly.
"Georgiana, Elizabeth was very concerned for you."
"Concerned for me? Is that why she brought her sister here to steal away Mr. Bingley?"
"Elizabeth brought Jane here only because she needed her companionship after the unfortunate events leading up to our marriage."
"The unfortunate events about which you are so secretive? You will not share your secrets with me, yet you feel entitled to know mine?"
"I will not tolerate this impertinence from you, Georgiana."
"You are not my father." She folded her arms across her chest and looked resolutely in front of her, refusing to make eye contact with him.
Darcy flinched. He was wounded by her words. He took a deep breath to calm his ire before speaking. "Elizabeth's troubles prior to our marriage are not my secrets to tell. I would very much like to help you with your troubles but you must desist this immature, disrespectful behaviour at once." As he said these words, he looked at her earnestly and she turned to lock eyes with him. His expression was challenging and at the same time inviting.
Suddenly, she collapsed into his arms, sobbing. "It's not fair! It's just not fair!"
He stroked her hair, waiting quietly until her tears subsided. "I am sorry that you were hurt and I know my own actions have added to your pain."
"You did nothing," she replied.
"Exactly."
"I do not understand."
"Elizabeth warned me that you would be hurt. She foresaw the engagement and urged me to take steps to protect you. But I confess I hoped your wishes would be answered and turned a blind eye to Bingley's obvious preference for Miss Bennet."
"How long has she been sharing my secrets with you?"
"You should not be angry with her. She kept your confidence for as long as she could, and the intelligence of your feelings was a burden to her knowing as she did of her own sister's feelings as well. She only came to me when she knew the engagement was imminent. I should have done something to prepare you and I failed. I am sorry."
"Why are you taking the blame and shielding her?"
"I am not. I am only telling you the truth. She is not to blame for this."
"She brought her sister here with the design of throwing her in Mr. Bingley's way. Her success in making a brilliant conquest for herself gave her enough encouragement to help her sister do the same. And she has three more of them at home! Are there any more friends you wish to dispose of to these mercenary Bennet girls?"
"Georgiana, you must stop making these accusations. Bingley has shown a very particular preference for Miss Bennet since their first meeting. He was in love with her even in Hertfordshire. Neither Miss Bennet nor Elizabeth behaved then in any way that merits reproach. In fact, I could not even perceive Miss Bennet's regard for him. After the Netherfield Ball I felt Bingley's feelings were becoming too serious so I formulated the plan of following him to town and dissuading him from returning to Netherfield and from making an offer to Miss Bennet."
"But your plans changed."
"Indeed. The very day I put that plan into motion was the day I became engaged to Elizabeth and brought her here. After marrying her, I could not justify attempting to persuade Bingley not to marry her sister. I had hoped that being separated from Miss Bennet would diminish his regard for her, but it did not."
"Why did you marry Elizabeth?"
"I love her."
"I know that you do, I can see it in your eyes when you look at her; but you both seem so distant with one another all the time. I do not understand."
"I fear my wife and I have not offered you the best example of marital felicity thus far. I hope that will change, but in the meantime, please understand that this behavior is not typical of newly married couples."
Georgiana sighed. "Thank you for explaining everything to me." She paused, then continued heavily, "I believe I owe Elizabeth an apology. I should not have accused her as I did. Especially without knowing all the facts."
"She will understand. She knows how devastated you were by the news."
"Will you send her to me when you go? I do not wish to speak of this in front of Jane."
"I will in a moment, but first there is another matter I wished to ask you."
"Yes?"
Darcy smiled imperceptibly. "How would you like to be an aunt?"
Georgiana gasped. "An aunt? Do you mean Elizabeth is with child?"
"She is."
Georgiana hugged her brother. "Oh I am so happy for you both. This is such wonderful news. And so soon after your marriage."
Darcy effectively masked his discomfort at this observation. "You must not speak of it to her, however."
"But why?"
"She will tell you in her own time, when she is ready. The condition makes her ill and she has difficulty speaking of it."
"Thank you for telling me."
"I hope you have learnt to temper your anger with reason and talk about a situation before saying things that may be hurtful and making unfounded accusations."
"I believe I have."
As Darcy stood, he kissed her on the forehead and left the room, his final words to Georgiana reverberating in his mind. Perhaps he could benefit from his own advice.
He found Elizabeth sewing in the drawing room and sent her to Georgiana. The sisters returned together with things so far mended between them that Georgiana was able to congratulate Jane on her engagement with cordiality, if not complete sincerity.
Bingley joined them for dinner, after returning from Hertfordshire with Mr. Bennet's blessing and a letter for each of his daughters. Darcy and Elizabeth were aware of how difficult the scene was for Georgiana and attempted to converse of other things at dinner and afterwards. The lovers, luckily, were not disposed towards indelicate displays of affection. Nevertheless, Georgiana left the company as soon after dinner as was acceptable.
After Mr. Bingley had left and Jane retired, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy found themselves alone in the drawing room. Darcy was glad for the opportunity to speak privately. "I wanted to thank you," said he, "for your assistance with Georgiana. I am more pleased than I can say to see you friends again."
"I am the one who should be thanking you. Whatever you said to her, effected a complete change in Georgiana's demeanor."
"I simply helped her to realize how inappropriate her behavior towards you was."
"I am glad she is reconciled to the engagement . . . and I hope you are as well."
"He loves her and she him." His voice was unsteady as he made this observation.
"Yes," she said wistfully, unable to look at her husband. Then she added, "They both seem very happy, and they deserve it."
"Elizabeth," he said, stepping towards her, "I know you said this morning that you did not wish to speak of what happened last night . . . but we must." Elizabeth felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. "I beg you would accept my apology for imposing my presence upon you in such a state." She said nothing. "I confess I do not remember the entirety of what occurred after I entered your rooms."
Elizabeth, who had been looking at the floor, now shifted her gaze to his eyes. She was relieved. He did not recall her unbuttoning his clothes and gazing upon his physique. "You came into my room expressing an intent to tell me something very important, and then you fell asleep in my bed."
"That is all?"
"Yes. Did you expect anything more?"
"No. I am relieved I did not do or say anything . . . inappropriate, given my state."
"I trust you will not be paying me any more visits while in such a condition?"
"You have my word."
"Good. I shall retire now."
He did not want her to leave. Or, if she did, he wanted to follow. Should he make his sentiments known? Should he tell her all he felt? Should he say now all that he would have told her in his drunken state the evening before had he been able to stay awake long enough to utter the words? He raked his fingers through his dark unruly curls as he watched her turn to exit the room. As she reached for the door, he said in a whisper, "I am most decidedly not drunk this evening."
She looked upon his handsome visage -- his dark eyes aglow with repressed emotion, one recalcitrant lock of hair hanging defiantly over his forehead -- still unable to discern the meaning of his expressions. "Indeed," was all she said in reply, then she disappeared into the corridor and he heard her soft footsteps as she walked slowly towards the stairs. He was not sure what to make of her enigmatic response but he chose to take it as encouragement.
Within half an hour he was knocking on the door between their chambers. She opened it and stood before him in silence dressed only in her nightclothes. He gently took the door from her hand and closed it behind him. Without a word, he moved towards her and reached out to her, caressing her cheek with his hand. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He pressed her head to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. As they stood thus Elizabeth, unaccountably, began to cry. When he perceived her sobs, he pulled away and looked at her with concern. "Please tell me what troubles you. Does my presence displease you?"
"No," she replied quickly. Then felt she had said it perhaps too quickly. She took a step away from him in her embarrassment. "I am just overwhelmed with everything that has happened . . . that is happening." Please do not go, she begged in the silent privacy of her own thoughts.
"How can I help you?"
She took a step towards him again. She wished him to stay with her but feared the vulnerability of requesting him to do so. For his part, he longed to be with her as well but feared imposing himself upon her. Neither could know the feelings of the other and were afraid to jeopardize the delicate harmony of this moment by speaking of it. Then suddenly, Elizabeth walked over to the small table near her bed, gathered up the carefully folded cravat, and held it out to him. "You left this in here this morning."
"Thank you," he replied, taking it from her. He stood awkwardly for a moment wondering if she was going to answer his question, whether he should ask it again or just leave her be. He longed to renew the intimacy of a moment ago, but feared a resurgence of her tears. "Elizabeth, I . . . ." He looked at her tear-stained cheeks and watery eyes. He did not want to cause any more tears. "I should go."
Her heart sank. He had no wish to be with her. She turned away from him.
"Elizabeth, please talk to me."
"Just go."
He moved towards the door, then hesitated for a moment before going through it. Elizabeth heaved a sigh of frustration and threw herself on her bed. Darcy leaned his back against his side of the door listening in silent helplessness to her sobs.
And so things remained between Mr. and Mrs. Darcy for the next several weeks. They were cordial to one another but made no further moves towards any sort of intimacy. Each longed for the other in agonizing silence, but each was preoccupied with other matters, such as protecting Georgiana from the effects of Jane's engagement. Jane and Elizabeth visited often at Gracechurch Street and there, the lovers were free to delight in their courtship unfettered by the concerns of discomforting Miss Darcy. Georgiana also spent a great deal of time with her aunt, Lady _____. Between protecting Georgiana and preparing for Jane's wedding, the weeks passed quickly.
As the end of February approached, so did the time for Jane's return to Longbourn. Bingley would also return to Netherfield to continue his courtship and prepare the house for a mistress. A date had been set for the wedding of both Jane and Mary, who had become engaged to Mr. Collins, in the last week of March. Elizabeth was relieved it would be before her confinement and she would be able to attend. When Mr. Bennet had written to advise them of the date, Elizabeth went immediately to Darcy's study to be sure there was no question that they would go to Longbourn for the event. She was pleased to discover that no argument would be necessary. Mr. Darcy had fully intended to travel to Hertfordshire to attend the wedding. Georgiana would remain in town.
"Then I believe we should remove to Pemberley immediately following the wedding," said Darcy, who had made no eye contact with her during the course of the entire conversation. "I believe it would be best to pass the weeks of your . . . your confinement there."
Elizabeth was perfectly satisfied with not being looked at by him and responded with as much calm civility as he exhibited, "Very well." She was not looking forward to moving to the distant and unfamiliar north country with her family so far away. I suppose he thinks it best to keep my shameful condition a secret as long as possible and hide me away in his country mansion. But she could not disagree with his view on this point. She only hoped Georgiana's heart would mend in time for her to invite Jane to Pemberley during her confinement.
After Jane's departure from the Darcy town house, Elizabeth felt alone and abandoned. She had a month in which to look forward to spending another week in Hertfordshire and then nothing to look forward to afterwards. The Darcy family settled into a routine, with Mr. Darcy frequenting his clubs and attending to his business and Georgiana and Elizabeth exchanging morning calls with friends and acquaintances. At last, the time to travel to Hertfordshire was at hand. Miss Darcy remained under the care of Mrs. Annesley, while her brother and sister travelled to Longbourn for a week. Mr. Bingley had invited the Darcys to stay at Netherfield during their visit, but Elizabeth had adamantly informed her husband that she intended to stay at Longbourn. She desperately needed this time in the bosom of her family, whatever their faults may be, before removing to the North where she would be out of their reach for who knew how long! Darcy easily acquiesced to her request, though Elizabeth could not know how large a sacrifice her husband deemed this concession to be.
Almost immediately after arriving at Longbourn, however, Elizabeth realized that her refusal to accept Bingley's invitation had been a gross mistake. Yet, her stubbornness and her disinclination to offend her family prevented her from admitting her error to Darcy and changing their plans. Upon their arrival, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were shown to their room. With both the Gardiners and Mr. Collins also staying at Longbourn, the couple was forced to share the room that had been Elizabeth's. As soon as Mrs. Bennet saw Elizabeth, her surprise at the change in her daughter's figure was evident. She expressed her delight in terms she thought to be modest and discreet and Elizabeth colored heavily at her references. On the first night of their visit, the entire Longbourn party as well as Mr. Bingley dined at the Phillipses' in Meryton. This was enough to dampen Darcy's mood. Elizabeth, being once again amongst her own people, was in high spirits and barely noticed his ill-humour. It was late into the night when they finally returned to Longbourn and Elizabeth went straight to her room to prepare for bed. Darcy intended to do the same, however, Mr. Bennet requested a private interview in his library. Mr. Darcy had no wish to be further scrutinized by the man who owed him the debt of his daughter's reputation, but complied nonetheless.
After pouring them each a glass of port wine, Mr. Bennet began thus, "So Elizabeth is with child."
"Yes."
"It seems very soon after your marriage for her to be advanced so far that her condition should be noticeable, even if only by her nearest relations."
Darcy said nothing.
"I dare say the happy event must have occurred on the very day of your marriage."
Mr. Bennet was met only with resolute silence. Mr. Darcy could not tell his father-in-law the supreme distaste in which he deemed the current topic of conversation.
"Or perhaps before."
Darcy locked eyes with Mr. Bennet for the first time since the conversation began.
"That would explain the hasty necessity of your marriage."
Silence.
"And I would commend your acting honorably by marrying her. But I know my Lizzy. And I know she would never have consented to anything of that kind prior to entering into the Holy State of Matrimony."
There was no response. Darcy could do nothing but stand there facing Mr. Bennet, twisting his signet ring.
"Yet Elizabeth swore to me on her wedding day that you had done nothing dishonorable. And she does not lie."
The younger gentleman still did not speak.
"So, I am sure you can see why I am puzzled."
Finally Darcy spoke; though he was loath to discuss such the subject with his father-in-law, it had become necessary to say something. "As you said, the progress of her condition coincides with the time of our marriage. There is no reason for your questions and doubts."
"And if your marriage had been accomplished in the proper way, that mere coincidence would not give rise to any questions and doubts. But as the case stands, the coincidence only adds more questions and more doubts."
Darcy's body tensed with his efforts at self control. His fingers curled into fists and he clenched his jaw, but his eyes were pleading. "Just let it go," he said in a firm, even tone.
"That is impossible. I am her father."
"You can rest assured, sir," said Darcy in clipped, even tones, "that I never touched her before our marriage."
Mr. Bennet stepped closer to Mr. Darcy and looking him in the eye asked, "Did someone else?"
Darcy sucked in his breath, barely able to maintain his composure. "Do not ask questions to which you may not wish to know the answers."
"Who was it?"
"Let. It. Go," said Darcy quietly but emphatically.
Mr. Bennet scanned his memory. Who? Suddenly he remembered the other man who had left the neighborhood when Lizzy disappeared. The way that man had behaved when Mr. Bennet confronted him about her whereabouts. Wickham! He sank heavily into a chair, a tear threatening to spill from one eye, taking in the painful realization of what had befallen his favorite daughter. At length he spoke, "And you will love this child?"
"I already do." Then he added emphatically, "My wife is carrying my child."
"And what of your wife? You love Lizzy? You must. That is the only reason you would have married her under such circumstances."
"I love Elizabeth with all my heart; but I have other reasons in addition to that one for taking responsibility for the situation."
"Your history with Mr. . . . with him."
"Yes."
After a long pause, Mr. Bennet simply said, "Go to Lizzy. Perhaps you will be able to sleep this night, for I know I shall not."
Darcy immediately left the room. When he entered the dressing room adjacent to Elizabeth's bedchamber, he found his valet awaiting him. He quickly changed into his nightclothes and strode into the bedroom. His wife was lying awake in the bed, and upon hearing his footsteps, she turned to look at him. "Do you wish me to sleep on the sofa?" he asked.
She sighed heavily and turned away from him. "Do as you wish," she replied.
To her surprise he stretched out next to her in the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She breathed a deep sigh of relief and contentment as he took in the scent of her hair and skin.
After a few moments he whispered into her ear, "Elizabeth, I fear I have failed you." She said nothing, but waited to hear more. "I promised no one would learn of your . . . incident, but your father knows."
She turned to face him. "You told him?"
"No. He was able to determine the truth on his own."
"You must not feel like you have failed me," she said with great emotion. She raised her hand to his cheek and looked into his eyes which appeared to her as deep pools of intense passion. "You have done more for me than I could ever have hoped for. I am, in a way, relieved that he knows, though sorry for the painful burden this intelligence must bring upon him. I know he will never tell a soul and no one else has enough knowledge of the situation to figure it out as he has done. You have kept your word. You have not failed me."
He leaned his forehead on hers and said in a tone which held as much emotion as her own voice had, "Thank you Elizabeth."
She gazed into his eyes and he into hers, each silently conveying all that they felt and wished for. She seemed to be beckoning to him and he was more than ready to answer the call. He leaned further down and ever so gently placed a long, lingering, feather-soft kiss on her lips. When it was over, she just continued to stare at him, her heart wildly beating and her breath coming in short swift gasps. At length their breathing slowed and she settled into his embrace. They fell into a peaceful slumber without another word.
This new found intimacy with her husband made Elizabeth's week at Longbourn even better. The wedding was accomplished as scheduled and without any difficulties. Mr. and Mrs. Collins departed the country for Hunsford immediately following the wedding breakfast at Longbourn. Although this freed up a guest room at the house, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Darcy seemed to notice. Their sleeping arrangements for the entire week continued in the pattern that had been set on that first night. Except that Darcy did not venture another kiss. Elizabeth was disappointed and could not understand the seemingly mixed signals he was sending her. Darcy, on the other hand, simply did not wish to push his luck. Both were grateful and content to just sleep in the other's arms. At the end of the week they returned to town after a tearful goodbye with Elizabeth's family as well as the Bingleys. Elizabeth knew it would be a very long time before she saw any of them again.
The Darcy family would stay in town only two weeks before departing for Pemberley in mid-March. In town, the enchantment that had seemed to overcome the Darcys at Longbourn disappeared. Darcy was again plagued with doubt and uncertainty about his relationship with his wife. He could not stop thinking about his father-in-law's inadvertent revelation on his wedding day that she had disliked him. These ruminations prevented him from being encouraged by her otherwise welcoming acceptance heretofore of his gestures of affection. Now that they had returned to their home, would Elizabeth still want him to share her bed? He did not wish to be presumptuous. When he did not appear in her room on their first night home, Elizabeth could not help but feel that he did not truly wish to be with her. She could not know that he spent a good part of the night sitting on the floor in front of the door between their chambers. In spite of this alteration in their nighttime habits, much of the good-will fostered by their intimacy at Longbourn remained. Their time in London went by quickly with preparations for the move. There were many things to be purchased and preparations to be made at Pemberley to receive its new mistress and farewell visits to be paid to friends and acquaintances.
At last, the family made the long journey North. On the morning they were to set out, Elizabeth came down the stairs carrying a hat box that contained her favorite green hat. Instantly a footman rushed to take the box from her. "No, really, Samuel, it is not heavy. I can manage," Elizabeth told him.
"Mr. Darcy's orders were quite clear, Mum," he told her. "Mrs. Darcy is not to lift a finger, not even a small reticule. He also told me you would object, and that his orders superseded your own," he told her over his shoulder as he walked away.
Elizabeth's nostrils flared. Not only was she unaccustomed to allowing servants to do absolutely everything for her, but she felt useless. At home, she had been quite capable and had lifted and carried heavy objects frequently. But I cannot go home again, she thought sadly, looking down at her bulging belly.
With a resigned sigh she wandered into the library. The Pemberley library, Mr. Darcy had assured her, had more volumes of varied genre than this one so she had not asked for any books to be packed. She had finished a novel the previous evening so she browsed the shelves and selected a travel book with large illustrations of the Lakes District. All the furniture in the library was designed to be comfortable with cushioned, low seats, and Elizabeth found when she sat in one of the sofas she could prop the book on her now somewhat bulging belly to look at it. The illustrations were quite beautiful and she lost herself in the meadows and waterways depicted. When Mr. Darcy strode into the room half an hour later she did not notice, and startled at his voice. "Elizabeth, the wagons are all loaded and the carriage is ready for you." She turned and looked at him. He stood in the doorway, staring at her. His features usually appeared angry or proud, but there was a difference in his look right now. He looked concerned and almost -- dare she think it? -- amused. "What do you look at?" he asked, striding over to her.
She looked back down at the book. "It's a lovely picture book of the Lakes District. What a fascinating landscape. This must have cost a fortune." She turned back to a particularly striking picture of the sun reflecting off of a tree-lined lake. "Will we go to see these places?"
Darcy sat down next to her and gazed at the picture. For a while he said nothing. Presently he said, "I purchased this book for Georgiana. When we came to town four years ago, she was homesick for the country. I went to the bookseller and asked for a book on Derbyshire, and this was the closest the merchant had. You're right; it was costly, but it was worth it to see the smile on her face."
Elizabeth was surprised at the tenderness he had shared with her. Is this the same man who ordered the servants not to listen to me today? She wondered.
He stood. "Come, we must away." He held out his hand and helped her out of her chair. She was glad of the help as it had begun to become difficult for her to get up, especially from such a comfortable position.
When he did not relinquish her hand, she remarked, "Yes, thank you for the aid. Your holding my hand makes my appearance a little more dignified."
He smiled. "Your appearance is always dignified."
She raised her eyebrows. "I hope so," she replied. Truth be told, she worried about that. She had heard stories of the pain of childbirth, not only during, but afterwards. Oh mr. Wickham. What havoc you wreaked. You hurt my family, the Darcy family, my body . . . . It seemed that everything in her life had been tainted by his cruelty and villainous deeds. Before long they were in the carriage and on their way.
When Elizabeth arrived at Pemberley, she was struck by its size and its beauty. She had never expected to be mistress of such a grand estate. There was so much to see and admire in the house and grounds, Elizabeth spent the entirety of the first week familiarizing herself with her new home and the following two weeks visiting the surrounding villages and dining at the homes of their neighbors. After Elizabeth had been presented to everyone of consequence in the neighborhood, Darcy saw that their social intercourse was limited as much as civility would allow. Elizabeth was still able to go into society, but her condition was becoming increasingly evident and she would soon be confined to the house altogether. For her part, Elizabeth delighted in discovering the grounds of Pemberley with her husband and sister. She walked out each day to take in the beauties of spring time. As spring turned into summer there were picnics on the lawn and drives around the grounds and fresh flowers in every room of the house. By late-July, Elizabeth strongly felt the imminence of the child's arrival. Her size had grown considerably and she felt the babe moving within her almost constantly. By now, she kept only to the house and the gardens nearby. She discovered that she had been quite happy at Pemberley. She missed her family less than she had imagined she would, and the child growing within her likewise gave her less uneasiness than she had expected. She had long since begun to think of the child as a Darcy, as had her husband and sister. There was no reason for remembering the truth.
Elizabeth noticed a change in the symptoms caused by her condition. As the child grew within her, daily tasks became increasingly more difficult and she was much more easily fatigued than she was accustomed to. One morning, while Mr. Darcy was reading his letters and Miss Darcy was practicing her music, she had gone out to the pond near the house and walked a circuit around it. By the time she approached the front steps to the house, she could scarcely put one foot in front of the other and sweat caused loose wisps of her hair to stick to her forehead. Once inside the house, she leaned her hand against the wall in the foyer, gasping for breath. Her legs ached and her feet felt as if they would burst out of her half-boots. She lowered her arm from the foyer wall and her shoulder landed against it with a thud. Mr. Darcy rushed into the foyer just as she slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor.
"Elizabeth!" he cried gravely.
Mrs. Reynolds arrived shortly after him. "A glass of wine. Bring it to her chambers. And fetch her maid." The housekeeper trotted off immediately to do his bidding.
He quickly gathered Elizabeth up in his arms, carried her upstairs and tenderly laid in her bed. After taking a sip of wine, as her maid pressed a cool damp cloth against her forehead, she had the strength to thank him in a whisper. He stayed with her until she fell asleep.
When Elizabeth awoke, she discovered that new rules had been laid down at Pemberley. She would no longer be permitted to venture beyond the main house and the gardens immediately surrounding the house. She was also to make sure someone knew where she was at all times. The servants had been biddent to insure that she undertake no exertion. These orders were to be observed at all costs. Elizabeth found his dictates offensive. Surely, she would know how best to care for herself and she knew he was overreacting to her episode of fatigue. But when she confronted Darcy with her feelings, she quickly understood that he was only doing what was best for her. His motive was to keep her safe, and that was a noble one. She could see that the events of earlier in the day had frightened him and she was touched by his solicitous concern for her safety. In the end, she agreed to his mandates.
This event made Darcy more wary about leaving Elizabeth alone soon after, as he must do to attend to his business matters. The plans had already been made. Georgiana had been invited by Lady _____ to visit her estate for three months coinciding with Elizabeth's confinement. Elizabeth was pleased by this news, for Georgiana's sake, not only because of the opportunity to visit with other members of her family who cared for her, but also because it meant Elizabeth could invite Jane to stay with her in Georgiana's absence. Darcy had to travel to London for business and he had already been putting it off for some weeks. Therefore, he would take Georgiana to his uncle's estate where he would remain one week, then go to London for a week and bring Jane back with him from there. He was uneasy about leaving Elizabeth alone for two weeks, but she assured him she would be well. She had befriended some of the neighbors and she had Mrs. Reynolds at the house with her. She had also already become acquainted with the midwife who would attend her delivery as well as the local physician and apothecary. She assured him he would be back long before the child arrived. He directed her rather adamantly to take care not to exert herself in his absence, to keep only to the house and garden, to get plenty of rest, and under no circumstances was she to undertake any physical labor of any sort. She did not take too kindly to his high-handed manner of ordering her about, but she assured him she would take care of herself in his absence.
Elizabeth received two letters from Darcy the week during which he stayed in his uncle's home. They were full of solicitous concern for her well-being but devoid of any real intimacy. She sighed to herself as she read the second one alone in the conservatory. She knew he must be on the road to London at this very moment. She did not like being in this enormous house all alone and she missed him much more than she could have anticipated. She stood up to walk out the back door of the conservatory into the rear garden and as she reached for the door to open it, it opened towards her and someone stepped through it and stood in front of her. He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He looked from her face to her abdomen and then back into her eyes just as she gasped and clasping her hands to her mouth began to back away from him in horror. It was Wickham.
Chapter the Eighteenth ~ Anger and Agitation
Posted on Tuesday, 19 February 2008
Before Elizabeth could leave the conservatory, Wickham grabbed her by the arm. "Unhand me!" she cried.
"Well, well, well," said Wickham amusedly, raking his other hand through his golden curls. "Is this not an interesting condition I find you in?"
Elizabeth's eyes flashed. "Get out of my house," she hissed.
Wickham ignored her and continued to stare at her swollen belly, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Carrying my child... and married to my enemy!"
"Your child?" she gasped in feigned surprise, as she averted her eyes. She tried to steady her countenance, but her quivering limbs gave her away.
"Do not take me for a fool. I know it is my child," he said, spraying her with spittle. "But does your husband also know it is mine?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "I see you wasted no time in snaring a rich husband after our tête-à-tête in the woods near Longbourn. I didn't expect quite that much resourcefulness from you."
Elizabeth was disgusted at having to look upon Wickham's face again, revolted to be in his presence, and appalled by his insinuations. With her free hand, she struck him hard across his face. As the welt rose on his cheek, he looked at her in surprise. "Now you learn to fight back," he growled. "But your retaliation only increases my pleasure." He grabbed her other hand and held the two of them firmly together in his vice-like grip. "You will have to save any more of that for later."
Unable to do much more than squirm, Elizabeth tried to hide the shudder that the feel of his hands upon the flesh of her wrists caused to run through her body. "Unhand me now, you blackguard! My husband will be home at any moment. You had better go or face his wrath."
"Not without my child," he roared, and forcefully dragged her out of the conservatory. "Did you expect me not to claim the fruit of my own loins?"
Elizabeth shivered. Her clothing had been appropriate for the warmth of the house, but was grossly inadequate for riding through the chilly countryside in her husband's curricle with a thieving madman at the reins. They were on no roads and the carriage bumped and tipped alarmingly, tossing Elizabeth from side to side with fierce abandon.
"Where are you taking me?" she queried pleadingly through the piercing wind, but Wickham heeded not her pleas. He persisted in lashing at the horses, driving them onward with cruel fervor. With each jolt of the modest equipage, Elizabeth felt the danger to her unborn child. With one arm she held tightly to the side of the carriage, the other she wrapped around her belly protectively.
Finally they slowed and Wickham said, "Ah yes, it is just as I remembered it." He stepped down from the curricle and held his hand up to her, saying, "Your husband and I played here as children." She refused his hand and instead crossed her arms, stubbornly remaining seated in the vehicle. He shrugged and pulled a protesting Mrs. Darcy over his shoulder and out of the curricle. As he performed this action, he continued his remembrances, as if he were entertaining an avid audience with fanciful tales of his youth. "We pretended we were smugglers hiding from the law, hoarding away precious treasure. I never imagined I would have occasion to bring something of such value to this place." Setting her on her feet, he stroked her cheek and said, "You will fetch a pretty penny. How much will he pay, I wonder?"
Elizabeth's cheek burned at his touch. She spat in his face.
He laughed as he wiped the spittle away. "You are feistier than I remember. Such spirit -- I'll wager Darcy is very well pleased with it. No, on second thought, Darcy is not man enough to know what to do with a woman of such vivacity."
"He's more of a man than you shall ever be," she replied through trembling lips.
He raised an arm to strike her and she cringed. He smirked at her cowardice. "The next time my hand flies on its own, Mrs. Darcy, for where I come from there are penalties when a woman lies."
He dragged her forward, through the opening of a cave. "It is not quite Pemberley but it will serve us well enough."
Meanwhile, back at Pemberley, a lone gentleman dismounted at the front door and entered the house. He was greeted by the butler who took his green coat and hung it properly in the closet.
"It's good to be back, Sid. Please let Mrs. Darcy know I am here."
Sid bowed and trotted off to find her.
Several minutes later, Mrs. Reynolds returned with the butler, a look of worry twisting her usually composed face, "We have looked high and low but are unable to locate the mistress. The master will be most displeased."
"But what has been done to locate her?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam with grave concern.
"We have searched the entire house." Mrs. Reynolds wrung her hands together. "But to no avail."
"Could she be outdoors?" asked the colonel thoughtfully.
"We are under strict orders not to let her out," replied the elderly housekeeper.
"If I know Mrs. Darcy," offered the colonel, "that would be all the more reason for her to venture out on her own."
"Perhaps you are right," said Mrs.Reynolds. "I will send all the footmen and stable hands out to look for her at once! She must be found!"
Just then, a stable hand burst in through the side door. "Excuse me, but the master's curricle's gone!"
"Blast!" exclaimed Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Foolish woman, driving out alone! And in her condition! I shall go out and search for her."
Mrs. Reynolds reached into the closet to hand him his coat, but inadvertently offered him one of Mr. Darcy's.
"No, no, the green one," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, waving his hand dismissively.
She quickly helped him into his garment and then he was out the door on his search.
Darcy accepted a glass of brandy from the servant at his London club and set it down agitatedly. He could not focus on anything or take his mind off of his wife. Even the good liquor could not distract him from wondering what she was doing at this very moment. He imagined her sitting sedately on a bench in the conservatory, reading a book of poetry. The next scene brought a picture of Elizabeth holding a dark-haired babe in her arms, singing softly to it, gazing up lovingly at him. But then he remembered that Wickham's hair was fair.
He curled his hand into a fist and pounded it into the table, then downed his drink and, wiping his mouth with his cuff, said, "Blast!"
Just then, a tottering, white-haired, leathery-faced, elderly gentleman approached him. "Darcy! How absolutely chuffing to see you, old boy!"
"Admiral Croft! Pleasant to see you too."
"It's been a long time since we last saw each other, what, about five years?"
Darcy replied, "Sounds about right. When we last spoke, you were heading out on an expedition. How did that go?"
The old man chuckled. "It would have gone a lot better if I'd gotten a decent crew." Darcy's mind wandered as the admiral waxed on about his exploits. His attention was not engaged again until he heard a familiar name mentioned.
"What? What's that you say?"
"I say, I saw your friend Wickham down in Southampton. About to board a ship bound for Canada. What is he up to these days?"
"What do you mean, what is he up to? Did he not go to Canada?"
"Nay, he changed his mind at the last moment. Do you mean to say that you did not know he was still in England?"
"Blast!" said Darcy, standing up so violently that he knocked the chair backward. "Where is he?"
"How should I know?" asked the admiral sensibly, but Darcy was already out the door, knowing in his heart that the villain would attempt to harm Elizabeth and the unborn child. As he stormed toward his townhouse, he berated himself for letting his guard down and leaving his home unprotected.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered Pemberley's stables and walking past his own tired mare, took the bit of Darcy's largest, strongest stallion. "He is rested?" he asked a nearby stable hand, even as he climbed astride the beast.
"Hasn't been out since yesterday, sir," came the reply.
Looking down at the boy, the colonel added, "Better go out and join the search party for Mrs. Darcy. I want every hand looking for her."
With that Colonel Fitzwilliam thundered out of the stable barely hearing the boy's "Yes sir," in reply.
He rode into the woods, trying to think where Mrs. Darcy would most prefer to drive out. The wind whipping against his face as he ducked branches and jumped logs in his way. He called out to her but his voice sounded small in the vast wood and he wondered if she would even hear it. He ventured further from the house. If she was driving Darcy's curricle, lord knows where she had ended up. She had gotten lost, of that she was certain. As he passed the boundaries of Pemberley, he wondered if she would have noticed that she was leaving the estate grounds. Would she have gone out this far? He knew the household would be searching the Pemberley grounds, perhaps he should canvass its outskirts. It was not long before he found himself in the environs of Lambton. It was at this point that he slowed enough to collect his wits. Both he and his horse were panting and sweating. They must rest. He would make inquiries in the town. Perhaps someone had seen Mrs. Darcy.
He stopped in front of the inn and handed the horse to a stable boy with orders to water it. He went inside and asked for a pint. When the innkeeper handed him the drink, Colonel Fitzwilliam asked as casually as possible whether Mrs. Darcy had been seen in town lately. "She hasn't been to Lambton for some weeks, I believe," said the innkeeper. "She always stops in to speak to my wife who is acquainted with an aunt of hers."
"I see," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Does she have any other acquaintance in the town?"
"None that I know of."
"May I speak to your wife? Is she in the house?"
"Nay, she has just gone down to the Miller's with our daughter, trying to patch things up there. I doubt she'll soon return."
"I hope she is not in any trouble."
"Only trouble of her own making! I had just about got her off my hands. Got her engaged to the Miller's son. A good match it was for her too. But she broke it off this morning. It seems a young man she used to know but hasn't seen in years came back through town and turned her head. And he's got her thinking he's going to make a fine lady of her! Just the kind you try to keep your daughter away from! I don't care if he was raised as a gentleman, if I could get my hands ‘round that Wickham's neck . . ."
"Wickham? Did you say Wickham?"
"Yes sir. He's back. Just passed through town this morning on his way to Pemberley. Said he was due for a visit to his old friends there."
"Thank you, sir," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, laying his money down. He left the inn immediately, fear and dread taking root in the pit of his stomach. As he mounted his horse and turned it back towards Pemberley, he could not help suspecting that the arrival of Wickham in the neighborhood and the sudden disappearance of Mrs. Darcy could not be a mere coincidence.
When Darcy returned home from his club he informed his housekeeper and his valet that he would be returning to Pemberley in the morning. Everything was to be prepared for an early departure. Mrs. Lacey ventured to remind him of Miss Bennet. He had forgotten all about Jane. He knew she had arrived at Gracechurch Street that very morning, but did not expect to leave for Pemberley until the end of the week.
He immediately dispatched a hastily written note to Mr. Gardiner:
I have received urgent news which necessitates my immediate presence at Pemberley. Please inform Miss Bennet that we must depart in the morning. I will be at Gracechurch Street at eight o'clock. Please accept my apology for any inconvenience to either yourself or Miss Bennet caused by this sudden change of plans but I must be at Pemberly as soon as possible.Yours, etc.
F. Darcy
Elizabeth sat on the cold, damp cave floor leaning against the stone wall, glaring icily at her captor. She would not let him see her cry. He stood sentry at the entrance-way to the cave glancing back at her every few minutes. He smiled each time but merely turned away to look out once again. At length, he walked to her and crouched in front of her. "Anger becomes you," he said, stroking her cheek. She turned her head away instinctively. He leaned in towards her and whispered, "It can be quite . . . arousing." She pushed futilely against his chest. He grabbed her hands and leaned ever closer. She locked her eyes on his, her fiery gaze belied by her trembling lips. He buried his face in the nape of her neck and drew in her scent. "You smell good."
She pushed against him again and cried out emphatically, "Get away from me."
Now he laughed -- a hollow, heartless laugh devoid of mirth. He stood. "It is tempting," he said, "now that you are his wife. But I will leave you to him. The satisfaction of knowing I had you first is enough . . . for now, though I cannot account for how I will behave if you keep giving me that alluring look. You can rest easy, for the time being. I assure you I am only after money now. Try to sleep. I am devising a plan of how to communicate my demands to your husband and it may require us to move again before morning."
Elizabeth closed her eyes and wondered if Mr. Darcy would be able to save her... and her unborn child.
Chapter the Last (Nineteenth) ~ The Babe and The Bear
Posted on Sunday, 4 May 2008
After leaving the inn at Lambton, Colonel Fitzwilliam searched the surrounding woods and countryside for hours. He returned to Pemberley in the predawn darkness to find his small hope that Mrs. Darcy might have come home while he was searching to be unfounded. He slept restlessly and Mrs. Darcy never returned. She had been out all night. Alone, and in her condition! Perhaps even in danger -- what with Wickham in the area, one never knew! Now Colonel Fitzwilliam's concern was heightened. In the morning, he dispatched an express to Darcy in London and one to Mr. Bennet at Longbourn inquiring whether Mrs. Darcy had turned up in either place; and urging Mr. Darcy to come to Pemberley immediately, but assuring Mr. Bennet that he need not make the journey at present. Then, he enlisted as many of the neighboring men as he could to join the search.
Meanwhile in London, Mrs. Bingley settled down in the seat across from Darcy in the carriage and noticed his furrowed brow. She sensed something was wrong back at Pemberley. "Whatever is the matter, Mr. Darcy?" she gasped. "Is it Lizzy?"
"I am uneasy. I fear something may be wrong."
Jane was distressed that her brother should have the same feeling of dread that had settled within herself. "I'm sure everything will be well, brother," she said unconvincingly.
"I... I should not have left her alone."
Wanting to comfort him, she put her hand on his knee gently. "You mustn't blame yourself. You left her in good hands at your estate. Lizzy has told me that your Mrs. Reynolds is most capable."
"Nevertheless," he replied ominously, "the sooner we are back at Pemberley, the better."
Jane could not disagree, and said nothing in response.
Wickham and Elizabeth passed a restless night in the cave. Neither slept as he feared his hostage would escape, and she feared for her life. As the first streaks of sunlight broke over the horizon, Elizabeth sat shivering on the cold stone floor. Suddenly, she felt a spasmodic convulsion in her swollen belly. "Oh," she moaned.
"Quiet, you," Wickham snarled.
"We must return to Pemberley, the babe is coming!" exclaimed Elizabeth urgently.
"Nice try," replied he, with a dastardly sneer.
"You must believe me," she pleaded, "I am in earne--OW!"
Wickham shifted uncomfortably. "Just sit still. Keep quiet." He walked across the opening of the cave and gazed out, but glanced back at Elizabeth nervously.
Elizabeth continued to experience ever intensifying pangs. Wickham ignored her cries and continued to threaten her.
Finally, Elizabeth felt an overwhelming urgency to push. As she did so, she knew the baby was coming out. Wickham stood off to the side, swearing and sweating. "Please, in the name of all that is holy, get me some help!" she beseeched him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam rode hard and fast as he searched the far edge of Pemberley's borders. Suddenly, he heard a cry of pain in the distance and he slowed his horse. Could it be Elizabeth? he wondered. When he heard the noise again, he veered from his course to follow the sound. Considering Mrs. Darcy's condition, he began to worry that she might be in distress, perhaps even in labor. The moaning cries continued. As he neared the source of the sound it became more and more anguished and his determination more and more urgent. "Mrs. Darcy?" he cried, "Is that you?" The only response was a whimper. Finally he pushed through some bushes and discovered the opening of a small cave. He entered cautiously and found the poor creature in pain - a fox had gotten trapped in a hunter's snare.
"Blast!" he said, as he dismounted to help the poor struggling creature. Upon closer inspection he realized the poor beast was beyond his aid. Shaking his head, he drew his pistol and put the animal out of its misery, leaving the carcass for the trapper.
Turning back to his horse, he sighed in discouragement. Where was Wickham? Where was Elizabeth? Where the hell was Darcy? Were Elizabeth and Wickham together? If they were, was it by design? He broke out in a sweat and wiped his brow with his coat sleeve, then noting he had soiled the green fabric he removed his meticulously embroidered linen square from his pocket to clean the spot.
Elizabeth grasped at the cold stone walls of the cave, writhing and panting as the ever increasing waves of pain overtook her. She moaned and cried in agony. But Wickham was determined to have her silent. "You must stop that infernal noise. Someone will find us."
"Good! I hope someone does, because I need help!"
"You do not need help. There is time yet. You do not wish to give birth in this cave. If I can but get a message to your husband you will be in all the comforts of home soon and I will have my money. You can have all the babies you want after that."
"If I was in control of when I should give birth do you think I would choose this moment, you fool?" exclaimed Elizabeth furiously, "The baby is coming."
"That would be most inconvenient for me. If you wish your baby to survive this ordeal, I suggest you begin teaching it patience now," he thundered.
"I CANNOT STOP THIS!"
The forcefulness of Elizabeth's manner finally made Wickham realize that perhaps he could no longer deceive himself. The baby was coming and nothing could be done to stop it. He needed a plan and fast. How was he to get the message to Darcy and get his money without being apprehended? He was stirred from his nefarious revelry by another loud howl from his companion. She was pushing.
"Noooooo," he cried. But it was to no avail. Elizabeth was beyond his control in this matter.
Suddenly, with an enormous push and a loud yelp, Elizabeth's daughter was born. "Oh my!" Elizabeth gasped as the babe took its first breath and started to cry.
Wickham abandoned his post to drop by his knees at her side, wide-eyed. "Blast, you've gone and had the brat!" he proclaimed. Then noticing the child's fair hair he gloated, "Ha, that is no Darcy! I knew it was my child."
As Wickham stared, Elizabeth cradled the baby with one hand and in the other she ripped the seam of her petticoat. "Help me. I need to wrap her up soon."
Wickham recoiled at the mess on the ground and backed away in disgust, his face white. "I . . . I can not. You take care of the brat," he spat.
Elizabeth growled as she took the hem in her teeth and pulled. "Of course the cord needs to be cut," Elizabeth told him, emphatically.
Wickham fumbled in his waistcoat pocket for a moment and pulled out his knife. He tossed it by her side and turned away. She deftly sliced through the umbilical cord and then looked at the implement in her hand. She turned her eyes on her captor, whose back was toward her, and once again at the knife as an idea formed in her head.
The baby began to cry, and Elizabeth cuddled her daughter to her breast. When the infant quieted, she swaddled her in the torn petticoats and settled her gently in a small hollow in the floor of the cave. ''Shush, shush, little one,'' she whispered before turning her attention back to Wickham. The baby closed her eyes and nodded off into an angelic slumber, secure in the knowledge that her mother had things well in hand. ''My little Janey,'' Elizabeth whispered fondly. Still clutching the bloody knife, she turned toward Wickham.
Meanwhile, the good colonel had gotten himself into quite a predicament. Not only was his green coat ruined, he could not find Elizabeth, Wickham, or Darcy. Also, he had wandered into a thicket and was stuck with brambles and thistles by his coat. "Blast!" he said in frustration as he tried unsuccessfully to free himself. He pounded his fist against his palm to emphasize his frustration, but it only caused his sleeve to rip. "Double blast!" he cried, stomping his foot.
An agitated voice caught his attention. He craned his neck to peer behind him only to see a bear coming at him. "Bloody hell," he exclaimed in fear. But he knew there was no running from this brute. He must face it.
"Be calm, large beast. I mean you no harm," he said. The bear, however, seemed to want blood; it reared up on its hind legs and with a mighty roar, swiped at the colonel with its giant claw.
Oh, that I had saved the fox carcass to divert the foul beast, thought the colonel as the bear fell upon him.
Meanwhile, the Darcy carriage stopped at a wayside inn. "I apologize, Mrs. Bingley, but this is simply too slow a means of transport. I must hire a horse and ride ahead. You will be quite safe with my trustworthy servants," said Darcy.
"Think nothing of it, brother. I shall be comfortable enough with the entourage. You must needs get to Elizabeth."
When Jane saw the silver stallion that Mr. Darcy had hired, however, she could not contain herself. "I cannot consent to remain behind, Mr. Darcy, knowing my sister is in distress. You must hire another horse so that I might ride with you."
"No, Mrs. Bingley, another horse would only slow me down. If you insist on coming along, then you must ride with me. As you can see, Thor is a strong steed capable of carrying us both. Your slight weight will not slow us down," he said, as he placed her deftly in the saddle and swung himself up behind her.
As they galloped away, she contemplated that his touch was more rugged than her husband's, and it put her to the blush.
Mr. Darcy held her with one arm while his other hand held the reins. He looked at her profile and realized how much she and Elizabeth favored each other. In contemplating the similarity of their features, he could not help but picture Jane with child. In his mind, he could imagine her swollen belly in the last stages of her confinement. Then, remembering that she was Bingley's wife, he shook the thought from his head and instead thought of carrying Elizabeth off to a secluded cabin in the woods. All at once he berated himself for having such pleasant thoughts while his Elizabeth might be in mortal danger. He kicked the horse forcefully, spurring it to go faster.
Thor thundered towards Pemberley, spraying mud behind his powerful, pounding fetlocks.
Meanwhile, back at the cave, Wickham was still formulating a plan, but Elizabeth already had one. With a mighty battle cry, she lunged at Wickham with the intent of stabbing him in the back. He turned abruptly and caught her by her wrists. "Ha ha ha ha," he laughed in her face. "Are you trying to kill me?" he asked mockingly.
"If I don't succeed, my husband will hunt you down and kill you like the dog you are," grunted Elizabeth, struggling against his power.
Wickham laughed again and pushed her back, expecting her to fall. "Go nurse my baby. As for your husband, I welcome the challenge. No man can kill me," he scoffed.
Fire burned in Elizabeth's eyes as her grip tightened on the knife. "I am no man!" she screamed defiantly plunging the weapon into his cold, wicked heart. He staggered back, surprised at her strength and stamina.
She stumbled back in disbelief and stared at him as he writhed in pain, torn between whether to help him or finish him off. Then she heard the baby cry and realized that her only concern now was to insure her and her infant's survival. She snatched the child up, held its screaming mouth to her breast, and staggered towards the back of the cave, as far away from Wickham as she could, to recover her strength and nurse her baby. She no longer feared the heartless blackguard slumped at the mouth of the cave. It was as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She had avenged herself.
Wickham moaned in agony. The evil strumpet cut me, he thought. I wonder if I will die here. He reached out towards the direction in which Elizabeth had gone and whimpered, "He-help."
"What help did you give us when we were in need?"
"I -- I wi-will die here."
"If you do, please be more quiet about it, the baby is sleeping."
Delirious from her ordeal, Elizabeth was not inclined for further conversation and as far as she was concerned the sooner Wickham died the better. She dropped onto the stone floor and leaned against the damp cave wall wailing soflty "Oh, help us, please, dearest Fitzwilliam."
Meanwhile at Pemberley, Mrs. Reynolds shut the door of the library and made sure she was completely alone. "If I know George Wickham, he has devised an evil plan to hurt our Mrs. Darcy. He will have taken her to the caves that he used to love as a child, and if I know Mrs. Darcy, she's escaped his evil clutches and pierced his evil heart. I must guide her and the child to safety."
Sliding aside the brown leather-bound book, she opened the secret panel and held up a lantern. A set of stone steps opened before her. They took her down two flights to the cellar level of the house. There, she removed an amulet from around her neck and inserted it into the D-shaped groove in the wall turning it three clicks to the right. Another passage opened up before her and she stepped onto the landing where there as a hole in the ground. She grasped the pole in the middle of the hole and artfully slid down to her secret lair. The air was cool and damp. Skittering noises echoed through the dark passageways ahead of her. I only hope that my presence here may go unnoticed. Tightening her shawl around her, she edged away from the moisture on the earthen walls. She fearlessly charged forward until she came to the end of the passage. Feeling her way, she found the lock and opened the stone door before her. She descended another stone staircase to the bottom chamber that she knew led to a series of caves on the Pemberley grounds. Mrs. Reynolds ululated into the darkness and prayed that Mrs. Darcy could discern from whence the sound came.
She then took a tinder box and some incense that she happened to have in her apron pocket and lit the incense. If Mrs. Darcy cannot hear the signal, perhaps she will smell the fragrance and it will guide her, she thought.
Elizabeth heard a strange noise in the distance followed by a comforting scent. "Could that be Mrs. Reynolds?" she wondered aloud. She leapt to her feet, hoping against hope that some help had finally found her. As her strength waned, she followed the noise praying it would lead her to safety and her beloved Fitzwilliam, and not more danger.
Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley slowed the horse as they saw a strange sight. Colonel Fitzwilliam, in his torn shirt sleeves, fought his way through thick brambles. A bear lumbered along behind him making contented grunting noises. The colonel had tied a meticulously embroidered linen cloth around his head. He looked up at the pair mounted on the stallion.
"What in the devil are you doing here, man?" asked Mr. Darcy.
"Looking for your wife," retorted the colonel. "And what took you so long?"
"Well, I had to pick up Mrs. Bingley," replied Darcy, gesturing to the lady as if it was obvious. "What news is there?"
"As you can see, I have just tamed this wild bear. My green coat is lost. Torn to shreds. I could not save it. I bandaged my wound with my meticulously embroidered linen square, but I mourn the loss of my precious green coat."
"Never mind about that, man! Where is my wife?"
"I have been looking for her this age," the colonel panted. "She vanished from the house. One of the curricles is missing from the stable, and I learned at Lambton that Wickham is back in the country."
"Blast! It is true, then!" exclaimed Darcy. "Mrs. Bingley, I will escort you to the house. I need a fresh horse anyway, and then I will join the search."
"Yes, my own horse ran in the direction of the stables. I will investigate these caves and we will meet at the chestnut tree in one hour to share our news. Come along, Smokey." The bear followed obediently. "By the way, Darcy, can you grab me a fresh coat while you're in the house?"
"I will hardly have time for that."
"Come now, man, I can hardly traipse around the countryside in my shirtsleeves. What if I should run into Mrs. Darcy? What would she think?"
"Good point. Shall I fetch the blue one?"
"No, no, the green one. It must match my waistcoat. And don't forget a fresh lawn shirt."
Darcy rode away. Meanwhile, Colonel Fitzwilliam found a smear of blood but could not tell if it led in or out of the cave, so he went in while Smokey followed the trail of blood into the thicket. After a few paces, Colonel Fitzwilliam found the evidence of the childbirth that had taken place earlier. "Blast," he cried dramatically. "Are the caves of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"
Mrs. Reynolds ululated again into the dark cave. "Mrs. Daaaaarcy, can you heeeear me?" she shouted. The indistinct sounds of a baby crying reached her ears. "This way! Walk this way!" she hollered.
"Help! Help!" replied Lizzy.
"This way," shouted Mrs. Reynolds.
"I am weak," called Lizzy.
"Just a little further, dear," she called. "Is that the babe I hear?"
"Yes, and I need assistance," Lizzy answered.
Mrs. Reynolds followed the sound of Lizzy's voice and caught her just as the weakened new mother stumbled over a lump in the dank passage. "Oh, little Janey," cooed Mrs. Reynolds. She helped Elizabeth to the lowest flight of stairs and began the steep ascension. At one point, Elizabeth could go no further so Mrs. Reynolds pulled a flask out of her pocket and gave her a restorative draught. The moment it touched her lips Elizabeth felt her energy restored, and she sprung sprightly up the stairs.
They could not carry the baby up the pole so Mrs. Reynolds slid open the door of the dumbwaiter that was in the wall next to the pole. She assisted Lizzy into the capacious dumbwaiter and placed the babe in her mother's arms. Once the mother and daughter were safely to the next level, she ascended herself. Together they climbed the last treacherous stairs and were finally in the library. They had just passed through the panel as Mr. Darcy entered the room, looking for Mrs. Reynolds.
Jane had gone upstairs to freshen up after the dusty ride while Mr. Darcy had gone directly to the library in search of Mrs. Reynolds to obtain the latest news on Elizabeth. Jane's heart was still beating rapidly from the long hot ride across the countryside cradled in her brother in law's strong capable arms. She had scarcely had time to see anything of Pemberley and as this was her first visit she was very curious about the house. But before a tour would be possible she must be assured of her most beloved sister's welfare. Yet, in her heart, she knew all would turn out well.
Jane freshened up with the water provided in her bedchamber but she could not sit calmly waiting for news of her sister. She ought to have gone with the colonel to inspect the caves. She needed employment. Sitting in her room imagining the unimaginable was taking its toll upon her senses. Should she go in search of someone who might have news? Or simply wait in her rooms. She paced her chamber door wondering what to do.
"Lizzy," cried the master, running towards his weak and disheveled wife.
"Oh Fitzwilliam," she replied, falling into his arms. He led her to a nearby sofa and Mrs. Reynolds looked on in relief and approval. She watched them for some moments, then after a long satisfied sigh, quietly left the room.
When she was gone, Darcy looked into Elizabeth's fine eyes and saw the love there that he had been longing to see since their wedding day. She smiled into his eyes then glanced at the ragged bundle in her arms.
"She is lovely," he whispered.
"I need a bath," said Elizabeth.
Darcy chuckled. Mrs. Reynolds had just re-entered the room and overhearing the last remark said, "I have just had one drawn for you."
Elizabeth made to stand up but Darcy would not have it. "No," he said softly, "allow me." And he gently lifted her into his arms and carried her to her dressing room. Mrs. Reynolds took a sleeping Janey out of Elizabeth's arms and took her to be washed as well and wrapped in clean blankets.
In Elizabeth's dressing room, Darcy dismissed the maid after an unspoken inquiry from him and imperceptible nod of approval from his wife, and assisted her himself. Elizabeth felt no embarrassment as her husband helped her out of her soiled clothing and lowered her into the steaming bath. He washed her with gentle caresses as she sighed with contentment and relief.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stood against the chestnut tree. It had been well over an hour. Where was Darcy? Had he found Elizabeth? That could be the only explanation for the tardiness of a gentleman who was usually the epitome of punctuality. But why had he not sent word? And if she had not been found, where could she be? He had not seen a soul since he had left Darcy and Mrs Bingley and gone to the caves. And what a sight had met his eyes there!
Even in the gloom of the stony enclosure he could tell that the sticky substance that encrusted the floor had been blood. He had been able to faintly hear the bear foraging about in the bushes, following a trail of yet more blood. Fitzwilliam had called after Smokey, but to no avail.
Blast! What had he been doing worrying about whether the bear came back or not? What was more important was the whereabouts of Mrs Darcy. Elizabeth. Whose blood had it been anyway? His heart clenched in true terror. It couldn't be Elizabeth's. He would never forgive himself if she had come to harm.
But after a thorough search of the caves, the colonel's hands had come up empty. Obviously someone had been there. Most likely Elizabeth and Wickham. But where they were now was anyone's guess. Anyone's but his, that is. There was no sign, no trail to follow.
He paced under the horse chestnut tree on the green by the smithy and sighed in frustration. Where was the search party? Where was Smokey? Where the hell was his fresh green coat? He wondered whether he should walk back to the house, but what if Darcy should arrive with his coat after he had gone? It was a very difficult dilemma and his military experience was of no use in resolving it.
Jane had just determined to go search out Mrs. Reynolds when there was a knock on her chamber door. She opened it to admit the woman she had just resolved to look for. The able housekeeper quickly informed her that Mrs. Darcy had been found and was well and then introduced Mrs. Bingley to her niece.
Jane cried out in relief and then in pleasure at the sight of the small sweet face of her niece, all wrapped warmly in the softest of blankets, golden curls glinting in the candlelight.
"Her name is Jane," said Mrs Reynolds as she placed the babe in Jane's arms.
"She looks like an angel!" Jane breathed, her eyes pricking with fresh tears of joy. "And my sister, she is well?"
"Better than could ever have been hoped," said Mrs Reynolds.
As her husband washed her, Elizabeth felt no mortification at all, only happiness that they were together and nothing lay between them anymore. The look in his eyes was only for her, and she could not mistake the brimming love that lived there.
"My dearest Elizabeth," he whispered. "Can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone at a time when you needed my protection more than ever before?"
"How could you have known? How could any of us have known?" asked Elizabeth, her eyes shining. "It is all over now and Janey and I are safe, that is all that matters."
"But your sister is quite well, she was never in any danger."
Elizabeth smiled and softly corrected him, "No, I meant our darling little Janey."
"Oh of course," said Darcy a little embarrassed. "But Wickham?" he asked with great concern. "I cannot have him endanger you again. He must be . . ."
Elizabeth put her hand up to his lips to stay his words. "He cannot harm any of us anymore." Then she shuddered at the memory of that same hand plunging a knife through Wickham's heart. She felt horror at her act, but no remorse. "We are free."
Darcy read all that she did not tell him in the various expressions that flitted across her countenance. He folded her into his arms and stroked her back tenderly. In an unspoken agreement they both knew that the words would never be said and Wickham's name would not be mentioned in the household ever again. "You are truly a wonder," he whispered, and then he reluctantly let her go and brought one of the large soft towels Mrs Reynolds had provided and wrapped her in it as she emerged from the tub.
She rested her head against his strong shoulder and relished the feel of the warmth that emanated from his body. "Did I ever thank you for what you did for me?" she asked, gazing up at him longingly.
"For leaving you alone and in danger?" asked Darcy, only able to think of the immediate past.
"No, for saving my virtue and marrying me though I was nobody to you."
His eyes softened and he stroked her cheek. "I loved you then, Elizabeth -- not nearly as much as I love you now -- but I married you for love and not put of some altruistic prompting. You are everything to me."
Elizabeth's eyes misted over and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. That he had loved her so well and for so long! And she had held her love back and wasted so much time that they could have been in accord. But now -- now they had a new beginning and there would never be that sort of distance between them again.
"And your feelings?" her husband prompted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"My feelings!" cried Elizabeth. "My feelings have undergone such a change -- I am overflowing in love for you."
"That is all I wanted to hear," he whispered into her ear as he led her towards their marriage bed. And at that moment he suddenly remembered he had promised to meet his cousin after an hour under the horse chestnut tree by the smithy. Well there was no way on earth he was leaving this room anytime soon.
"I must ring for the footman to apprise my cousin of your safe return. He has been searching for you for hours!"
"The poor colonel!" said Lizzy. "You must relieve his worry at once!"
The footman arrived promptly and Darcy told him where to find the colonel. "Do not forget to take him a fresh lawn shirt, and a coat -- was it the blue? No, no -- the green one! And I think you had best prepare the kennels for a bear."
Lizzy looked at her husband quizzically, but made no comment. She had more important things on her mind than questions about green coats, kennels, and bears.
The footman hastened off and Darcy turned to his wife. He lifted her into his arms and began to walk towards the bed.
"Fitzwilliam?" asked Lizzy. "There's just one thing."
"Yes dearest?" he said, depositing her upon the counterpane and kneeling before her.
"I hope you do not mind that I named our baby after my sister."
"As long as I have the naming of our second child," he teased.
"You know that she is not . . ."
"I will always love her as my own," he said earnestly. "She is, after all, a part of you."
Elizabeth would never cease to be amazed by the remarkableness of the man that had married her. She reached her arms towards him and he rose and joined her upon the bed. What followed was amazing to them both -- a perfect union of perfect love. Candles glittered in the lofty chamber, the fire flickered with comfort and warmth. The very halls of Pemberley reveled in the knowledge that all was well at long last between its master and his lovely wife.
The End