Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Late Morning
"You're all ruined. I will never get you off my hands now. Four spinsters! And Jane—so close to catching Mr. Bingley. Thank the Lord Lizzy is married. We shall all have to live with her at Pemberley when your father dies and Mr. Collins turns us out of the house before he is cold in his grave."
Mama had been making helpful little speeches like this for five hours now.
"Do not upset yourself, Mama. Lydia may be getting married as we speak. All might yet be well,"said Jane.
Jane did not understand that all would certainly not be well even if Lydia married Wickham.
And marry her he would. He would not be able to resist so perfect an opportunity of exacting revenge on Darcy while making a tidy profit.
A perfect opportunity, indeed, and I had provided him with it.
I had known what Wickham was, and I had kept that information to myself. This was all my fault.
"This is all your fault, Lizzy," said Mama echoing my thoughts.
"If those servants of yours had looked after her better when she was walking that dog, we might have known she was meeting with the villain.
And you, Kitty, why did you not tell me at once she was sending him letters?
Lydia is a good girl, she never would have done this if she had been properly looked after. "
"I'm sorry, Mama," Kitty howled, she had been weeping intermittently since Lydia was discovered missing.
"Do not apologize, Kitty, none of this is your fault," I said (though it certainly would have been nice if she had told someone about Lydia's plans prior to her turning up missing). "I will not tolerate you blaming Kitty or me for you and Papa's failures, Mama."
I know, I know. I had only a moment ago thought is was my fault. And I still thought so. Somewhat. But it was certainly more our parents' fault than mine. I had warned Papa about Lydia's escapades at the very least. He had never seen fit to rein in her recklessness.
"My failures!" cried Mama with disbelieving rage.
"Yes, yours. Who else but her own parents should be looking after her?" I replied. Suddenly I felt that I had had quite enough of her hysterics for one day. I stood up and exited Mama's bedchamber without taking leave of my mother or sisters.
Why we all always danced attendance on Mama during every one of her fits I did not know.
The others could stay there if they wished, I did not feel obligated anymore.
In truth, I could not listen to Mama's self-pity because I felt sorry for myself as well.
I should not. I should be worried about Lydia.
And of course I was worried about my foolish youngest sister.
She had placed herself at the mercy of a man who had no honor, who had only pursued her for the sake of triumphing over an enemy.
There could be no happiness in her future.
However, as concerned about the future of her marriage as I might be, I was also concerned about my own.
Darcy would never love me now. How could he, when my connections would bring such shame upon his family name?
He had begun to like me, or at least I thought he had, but now.
. . . This was a selfish, absurd thing to be thinking about at such a time, but I could not stop myself.
Darcy had set out to search for them immediately, of course. He knew all of Wickham's haunts and promised he would uncover them before the day was out. It should not be difficult. Wickham had every reason to wish to be found, or at least he would once Lydia's ruin was well established.
I found myself outside my own chambers and decided to check on Rebecca's progress. It would perhaps improve my mood to be around someone on the cusp of joy rather than the edge of despair.
When I entered the sitting room I saw James Darcy alone, not looking at all joyful. In fact he looked as though he had been occupying himself by pulling out his own hair out.
"What news?" I asked.
Straightening his posture, he put on a brave face and said, "So far so good. Constance reports that it will be soon. Of course she has been saying that for the last hour."
"I understand these things take time," I said, taking a seat beside him.
James nodded vaguely. "What of your sister?"
I shook my head by way of reply.
"He will find her."
"I know. But things will hardly improve once he does."
James reached out, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. "I know you must be worried about your sister. But I feel I must remind you, spare some prayers for the safe return of the dog as well. Margaret will kill you if she doesn't get Sir Sebastian back."
I chuckled, but my laughter was empty. I knew he meant to cheer me with humor, but the fact that Lydia had absconded with Sir Sebastian made it all that much worse in my mind.
"I am rather hoping Margaret will kill me. She would save me from enduring a lifetime of seeing the disappointment in Darcy's eyes every time he looks at me."
I had not meant to spill my troubles, especially to James who must have much greater concerns at the moment, however the words flew from my lips.
"Why should Will be disappointed with you?"
"My family has brought such shame upon him. And now he will be required to pay dearly for the dishonor of calling a man he hates brother. He will try to hide it, of course—to shield me, but nothing in this world could mitigate the resentment he will feel—that any man of sensibility must feel."
James, much to my surprise, laughed heartily. "I never took you for the histrionic type."
I narrowed my eyes which made him laugh all the harder.
"You really do not see it do you, my silly little niece? I must admit I was surprised myself to see him fall so quickly, but you must know—you must see."
My tolerance for riddles was nonexistent at the moment. "I must see what?" I snapped.
"You say there is nothing in the world that could soften the resentment that you imagine he will feel, but there is one thing."
I was about to ask, "What thing?" or possibly just slap that enigmatic grin off his face when a cry rang out, an infant announcing its displeasure at finding itself in a strange new world.
James stood. He took a few steps forward, as if to go to the bedchamber where his newborn child wailed, but then stepped back. For a full minute he hovered over his seat, finally he sat down only to promptly stand up again.
The door to the bedchamber swung open and Mrs. Vane entered the room. "The first is a girl," she announced.
"The first! What do you mean the first?" demanded James.
"There is at least one more," Mrs. Vane replied before returning to the room.
"At least!" He looked as though he might faint.
"A girl, a girl," he said as he fell back into his chair and slumped forward, running his hands aggressively through his hair. "At least one girl, possibly more."
"Terrible curse, daughters. A great pity that the female condition should afflict half of humanity," I said archly.
"You misunderstand me, I hold no dislike of the female sex.
If I were a younger man I would have no preference for a son rather than a daughter, but as Rebecca is fond of pointing out, I am old.
And it is possible—likely even, that I will not live to see my child—children grown.
The world is an uncertain place for a fatherless girl. "
I could not argue with such an assertion.
"The Darcys have numerous connections that might help a boy secure a profession be it in the military the church or the law, but a girl.
. . . How will she chose the right husband without a father shadowing her every encounter with a young man, and threatening bodily harm to every gentleman who dares look at her? "
I laughed, which I hoped was the intended reaction. "I suppose, in the event of your absence, you must trust Rebecca's discretion. And in the meantime raise your daughter to be as sensible as possible."
"Rebecca thinks kindly of everyone. She would deem any blackguard who presents himself as a suitor 'a lovely person'. And sense does not protect one from a bad marriage. Constance gave every appearance of good sense yet she married Vane."
I started to point out that sons were just as likely to make a disastrous marriage as daughters. However he seemed earnest in his distress. Such a reminder could hardly help his nerves.
"You must promise me that you and Fitzwilliam will look after her . . . if I'm gone."
"I can make that promise for the both of us easily," I said with a smile, thinking of Darcy's penchant for involving himself in the lives of his friends and family, it seemed unlikely he would refuse. "You would find it more difficult to convince Darcy not to meddle. Me as well."
"I will hold you to it," he said, "If you let any daughter of mine marry a foo,l I will haunt you from beyond the grave."
My chuckle was drown out by the sound of a second wail joining the first. All of James's attention was once again on the door to the bedchamber.
Several minutes later Mrs. Vane eased into the sitting room, a swaddled infant tucked in each arm.
"The midwife is seeing to Rebecca. I've brought you your daughters."
James approached timidly as though the little bundles contained vicious beasts. "Rebecca is well?"
"She is in perfect health," Mrs. Vane assured.
"And she is quite finished now? Not another three or four in there?"
"Quite finished," she replied succinctly, her face illustrating perfectly how tiresome she found his wit.
"Good, this is as much as I can handle."
"Well, aren't you going to hold them?" Mrs. Vane asked impatiently after several moments passed during which James just stood there fidgeting stupidly.
"I'm not certain I should. I might break them.
You know, I haven't held an infant since you were foist upon me.
I turned you over to the nurse as quickly as possible.
That was some years ago—I was in university.
I avoided my nieces and nephew entirely until they were out of leading strings.
" He was babbling. A man who had probably been in countless dangerous situations was frightened of his own infant daughters.
Mrs. Vane was having none of it. "Stop being a useless ninny. Here, make a cradle with your arm."
"My God, they are so small. Should they be so small?" James whispered once both bundles were placed in his arms. He was still standing rather rigidly, but his previous look of terror had morphed into a look of wonder.
"I understand it is normal for twins to be a bit small. They are healthy."
"Niece, come, have a look at my progeny. Stand in awe of their beauty."
I had remained seated, wishing James a moment of privacy. I stood now and crossed the room to get a better look.
"Well, in all honesty they are wrinkled and red and not particularly beautiful at the moment.
But I feel certain they will be beautiful.
And clever. Look at this one, she has the Darcy sardonic smile perfected already.
I am in so much trouble. Perhaps it is better if I do perish before they grow up and I have to duel all their suitors," said James.
"James, do not talk so wildly," scolded Mrs. Vane.
"Do not nag me, Constance. Nagging is not a privilege of little sisters. Little sisters are for spoiling with sweets and when they are grown one gets to terrorize their beaux. On that subject, which one is the younger?"
"How can it matter? They were born only moments apart."
"It will the first question they ask. They are Darcys. We are competitive and relentless. You know that."
Before Mrs. Vane could make any retort, another woman entered the room, presumably the midwife. "The lady wishes to see you now," she announced.
Rebecca was propped up in bed, still in the yellow gown, hair beyond wild. I have never seen anyone smile so brightly while looking so haggard.
"They are perfect, my love," said James.
"I know. Well done of me, wasn't it?"
She glanced past her husband to where I hovered at the door. "Aren't they lovely, Lizzy?" she asked.
"They are the loveliest babies I've ever seen," I replied.
"If the second had been a boy I would have named them Viola and Sebastian. Mr. Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, you know. But since they are both girls I've decided to call them Luna and Estella."
I thought it rather fortuitous the second had been a girl, another Sebastian was hardly needed.
James looked down at his daughters with some consternation. "Do you not think those names a bit exotic? A little too Continental? Darcys usually prefer more traditional names."
Rebecca laughed and stretched out her arms gesturing for James to return the babies to her. Once they were in place she said to them, "Do you hear that, my darling girls? Your silly father thinks he gets and opinion."