Chapter 52 Life At Pemberley #2
Mary did write to Mr. Collins, requesting that he come to her. His letter arrived promptly. He would come, though she did not anticipate his arrival with any pleasure. Still, he was the father of her children and had a right to be present when they were born.
Kitty and Georgiana became close friends, and though Kitty was older, she deferred to Georgiana, who was the more accomplished of the two.
Georgiana took great pleasure in teaching Kitty simple pieces upon the pianoforte and giving lessons in deportment.
Kitty spoke of growing up in a household with four sisters and confessed her sadness that her favorite sister had married and now lived in India.
“I know it is beastly of me to feel so, but Lydia has traveled halfway around the world aboard a ship with a very handsome husband while I languish in a tiny village buried in the Hertfordshire countryside. It does not seem fair. I ought to be the one having adventures, for I am two years older.”
“Do you wish to marry, Kitty?”
The older girl frowned. “I had thought so, but seeing how Mary suffers has made me reconsider. I should like to have adventures, and since a woman may not quit her father’s house unless she marries, I will not experience any adventure unless I do marry.
I wish I might marry a handsome gentleman without falling with child and enduring all the suffering attending such a condition. ”
Georgiana listened and wished to offer comfort, but no comfort was possible, for what Kitty desired lay beyond the realm of possibility.
“I expect Lydia shall soon write to announce she is with child, and then there will be an end to balls and parties,” Kitty said with a note of resignation.
Georgiana said solemnly, “I once heard of a lady who had been married six years and had not yet conceived. Her husband was exceedingly wealthy and often reproached her because she was barren.”
“Truly? I have never known such women. In our little village, every family has an abundance of children, though not all survive into adulthood.”
The two girls were still deep in conversation when Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth joined them. They would soon be summoned to dinner, but Darcy asked each young lady to play a piece upon the pianoforte in the interim.
“If you please, Georgiana, I shall go first, for my nerves will become too disordered if I must sit through your superior performance before my own. I shall feel too mortified to follow you.”
Georgiana encouraged her. “You are progressing very well, Kitty. Come, I shall turn the pages for you.”
Kitty performed a simple piece without mistakes, and the small company was pleased. She received praise from every member of their little circle.
Georgiana then played a selection by Bach, a haunting piece Mr. Darcy particularly favored.
The piece was received with pleasure, and Mr. Darcy asked for another, one favored by their mother.
When Georgiana had finished and took her seat next to Kitty, Darcy turned toward Elizabeth. “Would you sing for us, darling?”
Her lips curved upward. “Anything for you, sir.”
He waggled his brows suggestively but offered no reply.
She met his look with one of her own, her eyes sparkling with mischief, but walked sedately to the instrument as though his teasing had not affected her.
Elizabeth sang a favorite of her father’s and afterward took her place beside her husband.
Walters entered carrying a silver tray bearing the day’s correspondence.
Mr. Darcy sorted through the letters, then gravely handed one to Elizabeth. Black ink bordered the page.
“This is addressed to you, Elizabeth.”
Her hand pressed against her breast in an effort to calm the frantic beating of her heart.
Could it be Papa? But he had appeared perfectly well only two months earlier.
The family sat in silence while she broke the seal and ran her eyes down the letter.
A sob escaped her, and she looked toward Kitty.
“Mr. Adams has written. A cholera outbreak struck the European quarter where they reside in Calcutta. Lydia contracted the illness.”
Elizabeth then began reading aloud from Mrs. Gardiner’s letter.
“I have transcribed a portion of his letter for you and your sisters, Elizabeth. I sent the original on to your parents.”
Excerpt from Mr. Adams’s letter:
“My wife fell ill, but two days after I dispatched my last letter to you. She died within twenty-four hours of contracting the disease. The physician believes that had she not been with child, she might have survived the illness. I lost them both in this terrible scourge. I contracted the disease from her, but did not succumb to it. I can hardly believe that my beautiful Lydia is gone from me.”
“Oh, poor Liddie,” Kitty whispered.
Elizabeth swallowed hard before continuing. “Mr. Adams writes that she has been buried in the South Park Street Cemetery, which serves as the principal burial ground for British residents of Calcutta.”
Kitty buried her face in her hands and fled the room in tears.
Georgiana looked toward Elizabeth. “Shall I follow her?”
Mr. Darcy offered Elizabeth his handkerchief, and she pressed it to her face. “Yes, come with me. You may sit with Kitty while I break the news to Mary. I only hope the shock does not distress her too greatly or harm her in her condition.”
She pressed Mr. Darcy’s hand. “I fear you shall dine alone, Fitzwilliam. I have no appetite.” She turned toward Georgiana. “Perhaps you would do better to remain here with your brother.”
Georgiana nodded, then said, “I shall remain with Fitzwilliam, so he need not dine alone.”
Elizabeth kissed the young girl. “Thank you, dear. You stay with him, and after you have dined, you may come upstairs. If Cook can prepare a cordial for Kitty, I shall insist she take it so she may sleep.” She dried her eyes.
“Kitty has been known to fall into hysterics. I cannot imagine how she shall bear this. My sister feels everything very deeply.”
“Shall you be well, darling?”
She no longer wept. “Sir, though I sound heartless, I have long expected Lydia’s impetuosity would lead her into some scrape or ruin.
When she sailed away, I felt as though I should never see her again.
I had read of the diseases that affect Europeans who settled in India.
I felt then that my little sister traveled toward her fate. I mourned her loss months ago.”
He rose and kissed her. “I am sorry for your loss, darling.”
He drew her into his arms, and she rested her head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart brought her comfort. At last, she pulled away. “I must go to my sisters. Fitzwilliam, can you ask Mrs. Reynolds or Cook whether they might prepare some calming posset or perhaps a cordial for Kitty?”
“Yes, of course. I shall attend to it immediately and have it sent upstairs.”
She left him then, wondering in what state she would find Kitty and praying the loss would not prove injurious to Mary’s condition.
Elizabeth paused outside Kitty’s door and opened it.
Her sister lay face down upon the bed, weeping as though her life had ended.
Elizabeth understood. Kitty had been adrift since Lydia’s departure.
She closed the door again. She would look in on Kitty after speaking with Mary.
In the meantime, perhaps the tears would bring some measure of relief to her grief.
She continued on to Mary’s chamber and tapped upon the door. There was no reply. She opened the door and peered inside. The room lay in darkness save for the dying fire upon the hearth. She crossed to the bed and bent near her sister.
“Mary.”
No answer.
“Mary.”
Still no answer. Should she allow her to sleep? There was nothing to be done now, for Lydia had passed nearly five months earlier. She stood beside the bed, debating what course to take, when Mary spoke.
“Lizzy, is it morning already? What hour is it?”
“No, dearest. It is only seven o’clock. You have been asleep but two hours. I have distressing news. We received a letter from Aunt Gardiner regarding Lydia.”
Mary pushed herself upright. “Is she dead?”
Elizabeth took the chair beside Mary’s bed. “Yes. Mr. Adams wrote that she contracted cholera and survived but twenty-four hours after the illness took hold. She was with child. He also sickened, but he survived.”
Mary did not weep. “Lizzy, I never expected to see Lydia again, either because her husband intended to build his career in India or because I did not believe she would survive the rigors of that country. Still, our sister was but a girl. Her life was cut so short.”
Elizabeth took her hand. “Nor I. Poor Liddie. She was so very happy with her handsome husband and the social pleasures of their circle.”
“Yes. At least we may take comfort in that.”
The two sisters sat in silence within the darkened room for a long while. At last, Elizabeth spoke. “Mary, how are you? Has this news affected you physically?”
“No. I have not seen Lydia these many months. Since learning she had gone to India, I expected never to see her again. All in all, she has been away nearly a year, has she not? I suppose I shall always think of her as merely being away in India.”
“Yes, so shall I. I cannot persuade myself that she is dead.” Elizabeth rose.
“I apologize for waking you. I did not know what course to take. Perhaps I ought to have allowed you to sleep. The news would have kept, but the death of a sister carries such consequence that I did not think I ought to delay. Did I do right in waking you, Mary?”
“Yes. Thank you for telling me. Never conceal unpleasant news from me, Lizzy. I prefer to know the worst at once, else I conjure calamities far greater.”
“I must leave you now, for Kitty is much affected. I have requested a posset be prepared.”
“Shall I come help you?”
“No, my dear. Your dinner tray will be delivered soon. You must try to eat for yourself and your two children. I shall sit with Kitty all night if necessary. I do not wish to worry over both of you.”