A Constant Love: A Pride & Prejudice Continuation, page 33
“I find I am rather more in favour of overkill than I was previously,” he said, kissing her.
“Sarah will be returning soon – we cannot.”
“I told her you were not to be disturbed, and would ring the bell when you had additional need of her services.”
“Darcy! You did not! Whatever will she think of us?”
“You did say Sarah is the eldest of eleven, did you not?”
“I did.”
“And she attends you in your chambers every morning, with the bed still made up?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then I expect she has some idea of what we are about, regardless of our particular actions today. Thankfully, I also have a goodly degree of confidence in her ability to keep a secret.”
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Later, when they had finished, and laid in a slightly damp mass of limbs in Elizabeth’s bed, he kissed her temple lightly, and said, “I understand why you did not, but I do wish you had told me, as soon as you suspected you were with child, so that Sarah had no need for secrets.”
“You would rather hope, and have those hopes lost?”
“I would rather experience all that you do. If you hope, I want to share that hope. If your hopes are lost, I want to know – I want for us to comfort each other. If we must encounter darker times, we should do so together,” he said. “I do not mean to reproach you for it though, my dear. Either of us could have spoke of it, and neither of us did. I thought I had learned that lesson, and yet I still could not apply it to our not having produced a child.”
“What do you mean, that you thought you had learned that lesson?”
“You remember the day we first talked of the Corn Bill?”
“Yes, I do,” she said, thinking back to that time in his study.
“I had been growing increasingly worried over the cost of grains, and what it would mean for the estate, in the weeks before we spoke. I cannot tell you what a relief it was to talk of it with you.”
“I never noticed you were worried, until that day.”
“Some have called me reserved,” he said, smiling faintly. “I suppose I am rather good at hiding my concern.”
Elizabeth could not help but feel both soothed and ashamed by his words. For so long she had lived with the worry, for so long she had assumed that everyone – including him – was judging her for her inability to conceive an heir. She had carried around that weight, and with one conversation with him, it would have been lessened. Certainly, it would not have been the same to speak of it when the possibility was strong that she was barren, but still, even that sad future would have been easier had they faced it together.
It perhaps should not have been surprising, given the amount of difficulty with which they had come together as a couple, that they should still not quite get things right in the beginning of their marriage, that they should both avoid a topic that, if raised, might instantly have brought them each a great deal of comfort. She found herself crying again, overwhelmed by both relief and regret, and enveloped in an even tighter embrace.
“I wish now that I would have spoken to you much earlier. I fear I have been trying so hard to be Mrs. Darcy – to produce an heir as I was supposed to – I forgot that it was not the same as being a good wife.”
“Elizabeth, listen to me,” he spoke firmly, cupping her chin in his hand. “Do not ever think you have failed in either regard, no matter what happens with this child. Do you have any notion of how happy you make me?”
If she did not, she had a good idea of it now, for he was staring at her with the most intent expression on his face. He did not require an answer to his question, however, for he continued speaking:
“As for this Mrs. Darcy nonsense, I wish you would forget it. Mrs. Darcy is you, my Elizabeth. You need not try to be her – you are her.”
“But you cannot deny there are certain expectations of a Mrs. Darcy.”
“You have met – nay, surpassed – all of my expectations,” he said. “I should like to think my say in the matter is most important, given I am Mr. Darcy.”
“I suppose so,” she said, laughing softly.
“So if you must improve on Mrs. Darcy, let it be only that she shares all of her hopes and fears more freely, and if you will promise to do that, I shall do the same.”
“I promise.”
“As do I,” he said, kissing her. Elizabeth was not sure she had ever known a sweeter kiss, in all the time they had been married.
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Now that Darcy knew the news, Elizabeth could not bear to keep it from Jane and Georgiana, and a few days later, with Darcy, Bingley, and Mr. Bennet shut up in her husband’s study, calculating the cost to build a new house at Clareborne, she asked them both if they might like to take a turn about the garden. Just a little walk, of course, for Jane did not like to go far anymore, but enough for some fresh air.
They came with her readily, and all three walked silently for a little while, staying to the gravel path, for the rest of the ground was still quite wet from an overnight storm.
“I have some news that I believe you both will like,” Elizabeth said. “There is a good chance you are to be aunts – I believe I am with child.”
“Oh, Elizabeth! I have been hoping to hear that for so long!” Georgiana exclaimed, stunning Elizabeth with the force of her embrace.
“Lizzy, that is the greatest news!” Jane exclaimed, and took her turn in hugging Elizabeth as well as her size would allow. “But I thought you said – ”
Elizabeth gave Jane as sharp a look as she could ever give her older sister, reminding her of Georgiana’s presence, for barrenness, and by extension the conceiving of babies, was hardly something they could discuss with an unmarried lady present, particularly one who was not so long out in society. She explained, as delicately as she could, the theory of the London climate and schedule.
“It makes great sense to me,” Georgiana said. “You did grow thinner than you were when I first met you.”
“I hardly noticed,” Elizabeth said.
“Georgiana is right – I must admit I was a little startled when we first saw you in town,” Jane said. “Oh, Lizzy, now I do hope we purchase Clareborne Manor – I should so like for our children to grow up together.”
“And if you should have your baby at Pemberley, you will not require a pregnant woman to travel,” Elizabeth laughed. “So it may be a comfort to us both.”
Chapter 7
Elizabeth recognised that in some matter of months, she would no longer possess even the energy she did now, and she determined they must put Pemberley’s large dining room to use at least once during the spring, and perhaps many times during the summer, if she could bring about the house party she desired. They had invited many of the established families in the area over for a family dinner on one night or another, but never all of them as a group.
She discussed these plans with her husband, first, in one of the few times when he and Charles were not ensconced in his study, poring over maps of Clareborne’s lands, or their notes from the estate’s books. He looked up when she entered, quite pleased to see her.
“You must never tell him, but how glad I am you are not Charles,” he said. “He must have all of Clareborne’s lands mapped to the foot in his mind, and yet still he cannot decide where he would build the house.”
“Not everyone inherits an estate so well-placed as Pemberley, Darcy,” she said. “Charles has the pressure of doing right by many generations, on an estate where the previous owners clearly did wrong.”
“You are right,” he said. “I am so used to his being indecisive, I forget that perhaps this is a topic that bears more careful consideration.”
“Still, it must be noted that you are a good friend to him. I do not even know how many hours the two of you have spent holed up in this study discussing that estate, when you might have been focused on your own.”
“My dear, have you been feeling neglected?”
“No, not at all. We still have our rides, although I am not sure how much longer I will want to continue them. And you are very attentive in the evenings,” Elizabeth said, blushing furiously. There was no other way she could think to describe the notion that their activities in the marital bed had perhaps become even more intense now that she was quite certain she was with child. “I came to discuss our entertaining, here, which I never can seem to broach while we are otherwise occupied.”
Darcy groaned. “I feared you would not go very long without some plan of entertainment, once we returned here.”
“It is not substantial, my dear. I wish to have a large dinner, in a fortnight or so, for all of the major families in the area,” she said. “And later in the summer, when the season is over, I should like to have a house party. Only close friends and family. I would like to have them all to visit before the baby is too far along.”
“Those are very much my ideas of entertainment,” he said. “Our local families, and our own friends and family. If we are lucky, we shall have no one new move into the neighbourhood, and you may continue on with such entertainments until the end of days.”
“Darcy, you had better not be too hard on Charles in his indecision over this estate. If you lose his friendship, you may well end your own days as a hermit.”
“I shall not,” he said, giving her a very particular smile. “I shall have my wife and child with me, here, and therefore cannot be classed as a hermit.”
“I believe your wife will be the judge of that.”
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Her plans thus shared, Elizabeth went calling with Jane and Georgiana, distributing her invitations and introducing Jane to those who might someday be her neighbours. Again, she was received with utmost respect and kindness, and her invitation was accepted immediately by all, even a few who already had fixed plans. The Watsons had been engaged to dine with the Fullers, but upon learning the latter family was also to receive an invitation, felt certain they could find a new date for the lesser event, and by the time they called on the Fullers, that family informed her their smaller dinner had been moved to another day.
The first difficulty in planning the dinner party came about slowly; Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Parker spoke of it so delicately at first, she could not understand what seemed a certain reluctance on their part about the event. They did not say so directly, but eventually, she came to understand that they felt the house understaffed for such an event; the estate’s income could support many more servants, but the current Mr. Darcy rarely had even so few as eight to dine, and he did not wish to employ servants who would be idle.
Once she understood the cause for their concern, Elizabeth gave them ready approval to hire on additional servants from the inn at Lambton for that evening, but the messenger to the inn returned with the news that no servants could be spared for at least a fortnight, for Pemberley’s staffing necessarily influenced the inn’s staffing as well. With a little over a week to go before the dinner, therefore, Elizabeth and Mr. Parker went calling on each of Pemberley’s tenants who had boys of at least fourteen years of age. They explained the situation, and asked if the boys might like to come train as footmen for a week in the great house, and then to serve on the evening of the dinner. They would be paid for the entire week, as well as the dinner, and those who did well might be called upon to return for future dinners, and would have a character from Mr Parker.
Some of the families could not spare their children from farm work, but there were three large families who had more boys than they felt they could support in farming. The prospect of a week’s pay, and such an easy entry into service – a letter of character from Pemberley’s butler would carry heavy weight in Derbyshire or any of the neighbouring counties – was a blessing to them, and they thanked Elizabeth profusely.
Once the additional servants were in place, the only remaining difficulty came in the weather; the morning before the dinner saw a tremendous thunderstorm strike the county, and Elizabeth worried that the heavy rain might make the roads impassable. Darcy assured her that it would not; the roads in the county were in good repair and could readily take a rain such as this. The storm did, however, delay the post, so that the mail was delivered just as they were all taking to their chambers to dress. Among the letters was another thick bundle from the Earl of Anglesey, which Georgiana looked at in desperation, knowing that there could be no time to attend to it until the next day. Their guests would arrive soon, and the letter could hardly be read publicly in front of so many families, so it would have to wait until the next morning.
It had been some time since Pemberley had hosted an event so large, but when these families did begin to arrive, they did so in the old style, with the torches lit all the way down the drive, and the master and lady of the house waiting in the entrance-hall to greet them. The lady, they observed, was most elegantly dressed and wearing jewels that most found more tasteful than those the late Mrs. Darcy had worn, although some of the older ladies thought them underdone.
This entrance pleased the guests, but did not delight them quite so much as the servants who handed them glasses of champagne upon entering the yellow drawing room, for Mr. Parker had laid in a vast number of cases during the peace, and the fact that it was once again difficult to procure did make it seem to taste even better. Introductions were few, and generally between the dinner guests and the Bingleys and Mr. Bennet – the families had all been settled in this area for some time, and knew each other well.
There were some who did not like each other so well, but Elizabeth had this intelligence from her husband, and had arranged their entry into dinner carefully, so that when they all were seated, she had no concerns that any area of the table should be overtaken by cold silence. They were in the large dining room, and although it was still not filled, there were a good four-and-twenty of them seated. All the dishes came out well; the new footmen looked very young indeed, and quite nervous, but they did not make any mistakes. And Darcy, who had always looked a bit pained in company in town, unless they were with only their closest acquaintances, seemed completely comfortable here at home, even with such a large group, conversing easily with those around him.
They would of course not say so to Elizabeth, but the general feeling among the families was of happiness in seeing entertainment returned to the great house. Certainly, Mr. Darcy, who had inherited the estate so terribly young, and then continued a bachelor for many years, could not be expected to entertain in the way the late Mr. and Mrs. Darcy did, when they both were alive. Yet they had all felt the infrequency of invitations to the house, and those always to dine in very small parties. The addition of a Mrs. Darcy – and her finally appearing in the neighbourhood, just when they had feared she was one of those ladies who loathed leaving town – appeared to mean that their society would increase, and they looked at her with fondness.
Georgiana was fortunate to be seated amongst people who had a great deal of conversation, so that she had to contribute but rarely. She could think of nothing but the letter and what it might contain. Its existence, at least, told her that at some point after April the eighth, he had been well, and that was some comfort, but not enough to settle her desire to know its contents.
With such a large party, dinner was a lengthy event – there were many who had not yet had a chance to toast the new Mrs. Darcy, and they took the opportunity. The gentlemen were long over their port, and when the whole party finally settled in the large drawing room, they were all still desirous of entertainment. Elizabeth saw that a few card tables were made up; the doors to the music room were opened, and Georgiana and several of the other ladies were compelled to play the pianoforte or the harp.
For several hours, they all sat, drinking tea, playing cards, and listening to the music, and when only a few of the most elderly guests had called for their carriages, and the rest showed no inclination to do so, Elizabeth leaned over and said quietly to Georgiana:
“Why do you not retire? You are still young, and recently out in society. Jane is going to as well – they will all understand.”
Georgiana had indeed been growing tired for some time, and she knew she contributed little to the conversation, as distracted as she was. She saw Jane standing in the doorway, waiting, and rose to join her and take their leave.
It was only after Hughes helped her change that Georgiana saw the letter sitting on her bed. It had been opened – and by the looks of it, read – and Georgiana felt a deep surge of affection for Elizabeth. Somehow, in the course of hosting such a large dinner, her sister had managed to review the letter and see that it was placed in Georgiana’s possession.
She unfolded it eagerly and saw that it was even longer than the first. Much like that letter, he spoke of naval life, describing each of his officers and their duties, and detailing their slow path along the French coast, as they searched for any ship they might fight, and continued to destroy any shore batteries they saw. He was experimenting with a different type of gun, called a carronade, which he described as shorter and more powerful than the longer guns, but less accurate. If successful, the carronades were to replace the smallest guns on the ship, and he was quite pleased by the progress of the crews manning them. This was followed by another apology, for writing of such topics to a lady, and Georgiana wished he did not feel the need to do so – this was clearly a topic he was enthusiastic about, and she would have been quite happy to read another page on it, if he had chosen to write it.
Georgiana saw that he had written at least a little every day – they had seen no more storms – and each day’s entry included the news that they were yet to see any French men of war. This he explained finally on his entry of May the seventh, when his ship reached the Brest blockade and found that most of the French were still in port. Meeting up with the blockade meant they should receive mail, and one of his entries indicated he had just received Mrs. Darcy’s letter, and he had greatly enjoyed hearing of their country life at Pemberley, and of Georgiana’s progress on the pianoforte, particularly as it confirmed her wrist was fully better. He described in turn his cello practise, which was kept shorter than it had been on the Caroline, with a new crew and the ship so close to the French coast, so that he kept to old favourites whenever he was able to steal away a half-hour for practise.
