Chapter 11 Lady Catherine’s Story #2
“Indeed? That is…fascinating, to be sure.” He leaned forwards, putting weight upon his feet. “But it is rather late, and I believe I ought to—"
“Pray wait one minute.”
His mouth wavered in an open position. “Yes, very well.” He sat back down and quaffed from his glass.
“For instance, I am aware that while you have not yet been unfaithful to Mrs. Bingley, you are carrying on a flirtation with a certain attractive widow who resides in the West End of London.”
Mr. Bingley sputtered and coughed, gagging on the spirits he had attempted to swallow. “How…how do you know this?”
“I understand your wife, the former Miss Jane Bennet, is Elizabeth’s elder sister. Mrs. Bingley is a beautiful, caring, and gentle lady, and you must know she would never act out in violence towards you, not even if she learned you had betrayed her.”
Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his mouth and dabbed at his forehead. “What do you want from me?”
“My intent is to help you.” Of course, I should not scruple to employ exaggeration as I conveyed my point.
“Your wife is far too generous to ever blame you for taking a mistress. Instead, she would place every jot of the culpability upon herself. She would be convinced that for you to take this step meant she had failed you as a wife. As charming as Mrs. Bingley may be, she does not have a high opinion of herself. She is cognisant of her lack of accomplishments compared to many ladies of the ton. The one area she takes pride in is being an exemplary wife and mother. Faced with this irrefutable proof of her deficiency, she would be unable to endure the shame. With the certainty that you would be better off without her, she would take her own life.”
A choking sound squeaked from him.
“And just to illustrate my earlier point, the death would be reported as an accident or sudden illness. I cannot imagine you would want to tell Darcy and your wife’s dearest sister, Elizabeth, that Mrs. Bingley took her own life because she discovered you had a mistress.”
“No! I do not believe you. Not my dear, beautiful Jane! She would never harm any living creature, much less herself. Never, I tell you!”
“Your frequent trips to town have already aroused your wife’s suspicion. She has hidden away a small but lethal supply of arsenic in case she may need it.”
He gasped. “She suspects I have betrayed her?”
“Indeed. Have you not noticed the change in her frame of mind?”
“Yes, God help me. Yet I dismissed her lowered spirits as insignificant and temporary. My late father often said that women were strange creatures beyond our comprehension, and any essay to understand them would be ludicrous. I never saw Jane that way, and yet…”
“And yet you sought the company of another woman.”
His head dipped. “To my detriment, I listened to my deuced brother Hurst. He said that anything I did without my wife’s knowledge would have no impact on her. Yet I cannot pretend ignorance of the hurt caused by infidelity. I witnessed the effect of my father’s dalliances upon my poor mother.”
“So, your father encouraged this behaviour.”
“Yes. He was a fine man in many ways, but he kept several other women throughout his marriage. I swore to myself I would never treat my wife as he had done.” Mr. Bingley shook his head, wringing his hands.
“To think that I could have lost my sweet, beautiful Jane! I have been a fool. She is too good for me!”
“I cannot disagree.”
His hand raised to his chest. “Mr. Graham, I cannot thank you enough for bringing me to my senses. I shall make a full confession to my wife as soon as may be.”
Heaven forfend! “No, there is no reason to do that.” Did he have even an iota of common sense?
“But…but surely I must be honest with her.”
“By all means, do not deceive her ever again. But spare her the knowledge of your lapse, for that particular disclosure would pain her. Henceforth, be the man your wife deserves, and never give her cause to doubt you again.” I gulped the last of my port and rose to my feet.
“You are fortunate we spoke before you made an unforgivable error.”
“Yes, thank goodness.”
“Good evening.”
“Good evening, Mr. Graham.”
I strode from the room. In the hall, I whistled a gay tune. All things considered, I had a most productive day. Now, Sarah awaited my arrival.
Elizabeth
I lay snug and warm, ensconced in Fitzwilliam’s arms, my head resting on his chest. The subtle pulses of his heart soothed me like a refined tattoo as my thoughts revisited the day’s events.
Even with the inimical presences of Lady Catherine and, until the late afternoon, Lady Rebecca, the day had been delightful.
My husband had taken pains to plan every element of my birthday celebration for my pleasure. Although Fitzwilliam could have delegated the work to our efficient housekeeper, he had chosen not to do so.
For most of the day and evening, I had anticipated this time alone with him. Our mutual expression of love made for a beautiful and memorable conclusion to the day, leaving me sated and contented.
My hand lowered to my abdomen. Although the area remained flat, my courses were over two months late. If my intuition could be trusted, Bennet would have a brother or sister next year. Perhaps I should share my suspicion with Fitzwilliam one day soon.
His arm tightened around my waist, and it occurred to me that his respiration lacked the relaxed pattern I associated with his sleeping state. He almost always fell asleep well before I did, so why would he still be awake?
“Elizabeth, I want you to know how much joy you have given me. Since the day of our engagement, I have experienced more felicity than most men receive in the whole of their lifetime. The first year of our marriage, I thought my life could not be better, for I had never known such contentment. Then I became a father, and Bennet further enriched my world. Each moment spent with you and him is more precious to me than I can express.”
Good gracious. My heart throbbed with a tempestuous force.
Despite his touching words, an unusual quaver in his elocution made my mouth go dry.
Nevertheless, I soon chided myself for my silliness.
Whilst in my husband’s safe embrace, I should not abide any dark musings.
“Despite the circumstances that once divided us, you are my ideal match. I am fortunate you did not reject me in favour of a lady less stubborn, disagreeable, and prejudiced. By the time we became engaged, I did not believe I merited your constancy. But if I have made you as happy as you have made me, I am well satisfied.”
Fitzwilliam kissed the top of my head. The remaining vestiges of tension fled my body, and I ceded to my fatigue and the lure of pleasant dreams.
Darcy
I stroked Elizabeth’s hair with the gentlest of touches.
She had fallen asleep. The day had been long, busy, and at times, full of tension, but I fought the temptation to succumb to weariness.
This could be my final night with my wife, and I should relish the joy of holding her, breathing in her essence, and feeling her soft skin against mine for as long as possible.
Thus, I remained awake, reviving remembrances of Elizabeth and myself from our days as an engaged couple through the present.
Not until an hour or so before daylight did I succumb to the lure of a contented slumber.
Wednesday, 20 September
Darcy
My son brimmed with vitality. He bustled about the nursery arranging his toys upon the floor, his cheeks rosy.
His cheery speech often descended into babble.
He periodically enlisted Elizabeth or me to hold one of his new gifts.
Invariably, though, he retrieved the item back within a few minutes to place it in a spot of his choosing.
With this joyful display before me, I resolved to avoid negative thoughts. I should not imagine Elizabeth mourning me…or moving past her grief and remarrying. I should not acknowledge a reality in which I would never see her or any of my loved ones again.
For the most part, I achieved my purpose. Bennet’s exhilaration and evident joy, as well as my wife’s gratifying presence, ensured my spirits remained high.
Bennet displayed a particular fondness for the stuffed dog given to him by Cousin Anne and Lady Catherine, and the toy remained clutched against his chest. But he had not forgotten his pony and expressed his desire to have another ride.
So, the three of us departed for the stables.
Upon hearing our suggested names, Bennet decided upon “Danny” for his pony.
After Bennet’s well-loved ritual of greeting the horses and gifting them with treats, I gave him his second riding lesson with Danny.
This time, Bennet showed not a trace of hesitation to sit in the saddle and only needed to be admonished once not to kick.
He proved to be a quick learner and displayed an obvious affinity for horses.
One day he would be an excellent horseman.
Rapt in the appreciation of this precious time with my family, no gloomy thoughts intruded upon me. After we returned Bennet to Miss Hunter's care, Elizabeth and I took a walk on one of our customary routes.
Elizabeth
As we strode hand in hand, I took frequent glances at Fitzwilliam. He had been more quiet than usual this morning, though he revealed no sign of discontent. I faced him with a raised brow. “A penny for your thoughts.”
He grinned, his dimples on full display. “I was reflecting with satisfaction on how well the events of yesterday came to pass.”
“At the risk of making you prouder than ever before, I shall echo those sentiments and commend you for planning memorable celebrations for myself and Bennet.”