Chapter 29
Elizabeth woke still fatigued again. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and yawned.
Crossing to the window, she stared out at the steep hills and crags.
This view never failed to bring her pleasure, but the mistress’s chambers were at the other side of the house, where the wide valley predominated, and the hills were distant.
She sighed; she would miss this sight very much when she had to move to her new apartments; and they were nearly ready. It might only be a matter of one or two weeks. Her heart sank.
Things would change then, she knew that.
She dreaded it because things between her and Mr Darcy would certainly change.
When supervising the furniture placement, she had seen the connecting door to his apartments.
He could lock it from his side, but there was no lock on her side.
A wife must be available at any time her husband wished her to be.
There had been an odd sensation within her when she realised that, and her heart had beat erratically. She had hurried away from the apartment and taken herself to the terrace where ten minutes of brisk walking in the chill air had calmed her a little.
She had had to admit to herself she was afraid. And now the time was drawing closer. She exclaimed to herself and closed the curtain again; there were other things to consider today. She turned and rang the bell for Emily; she needed her early tea tray as soon as it was ready.
A few hours later, after a quick walk, breakfast, and her meeting with Mrs Kerr, Elizabeth shivered despite the May sunshine as the gig conveyed her to Linacre and Mrs Ross served her a cup of tea.
“How is Mrs Snell managing now that her sister has had to go home?”
The other woman’s lips tightened. “I think she is struggling rather. She is impatient with the little girls, who of course, are asking where their brother is, and it reminds her all the time when she may be better trying not to think of it so often.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “It is the way of small children. But she is still young enough to bear another child, although it is too soon for her to be at ease about it. But I will sit with her for a while this morning, and try to do so twice a week for a month or so and then we might lengthen the number of days between calls, perhaps.”
“Thank you, Mrs Darcy. That will be helpful.” Mrs Ross flashed a smile. “And I am certain you have some sweetmeats for the children.”
Elizabeth nodded. “And a few flowers from the hothouse so that Mrs Snell might place them on little Sammy’s grave while I stay with the girls.”
In the afternoon, Elizabeth took some sewing down to sit with Mrs Reynolds.
They sat quietly talking, Elizabeth patiently listening to the same tales again and again.
The old lady was worsening sadly, and Elizabeth watched her affectionately.
There was only one end to this. But Mrs Reynolds was happy.
Still at her beloved Pemberley, but less anxious now that she had begun to forget all the routines that had once kept her busy.
Her heart leapt into her throat when the old woman began to reminisce about Mr Darcy and his young sister when they were small children, running around the corridors.
“She was such a little angel with her long golden hair,” her hands began to tremble.
“I was sad when she was old enough to go into plaits.” She reached for Elizabeth’s hand, her own thin and threaded with veins.
“Lady Anne was so worried for her, she was so tiny when she was born. But she grew well. I am glad her mother lived long enough to see her well.” Tears began to flow down her face.
“The poor young master. He loved his Mama very much. So lost he was without her.”
Elizabeth felt an ache in her heart. She might not love her husband — might resent him for his lack of thought and attention to her; but no little boy deserved to lose his mama so young.
A thought hit her; blinding. Her new chambers were nearly ready. Mr Darcy may see it as able to begin his duty to beget an heir.
She shivered. When she bore a child she could never leave here, never abandon her child. And if she took their baby with her, then Mr Darcy would never stop searching for her.
Leave? Was she thinking of leaving? She had never had a conscious thought about it, but no — it seemed it was here in her mind, the idea fully formed.
Mrs Reynolds was sitting, her thoughts far away, mumbling to herself.
Elizabeth’s thoughts were within her. Could she leave? By law, no, she could not. As a wife, her movements were commanded by her husband, she had to obey every edict; he could do as he wished.
And he had. He had prevented her receiving any letters, had insisted her own would be approved by him before she sent them.
There was no suggestion he would permit her to go far from Pemberley.
Mrs Hayes had only become her friend because she had approached Elizabeth when she was at church before Mr Darcy was well enough to attend.
She smiled to herself, happy that she had not written the invitation to dine and had allowed it to slip away forgotten. Elizabeth did not want her friend here, seeing how she had to live.
But she must be alone, have time to think about this momentous decision and how soon she must decide it.
She strolled along the terrace, watching the clouds scudding along the sky. Notwithstanding her unhappiness here, she loved the grounds here at Pemberley. Even the great house had become familiar to her. The staff respected her, and she lived comfortably and could eat well when she had an appetite.
“Madam.” Her husband’s voice had her spinning round in shock.
He stood taller, having observed her reaction, his voice becoming colder. “I am sorry. I did not intend to startle you.”
She dipped a curtsy. “It was my error, sir. I was woolgathering.”
He smiled faintly. “So I could see. May I walk with you?” But he had already turned and indicated they continue along the terrace.
Elizabeth stifled a sigh and dipped her head in acquiescence; it was not as if she had an option. Her thoughts returned to the problem, the silent presence of the man beside her complicating the issue.
He was more present in her life, he spoke to her more often, although only formally, issues of the estate and tenants.
He seemed different today, a little uncertain of himself, and she watched out of the corner of her eye, as he drew out his watch.
Do not let me keep you. I have learned to live in my thoughts.
She tightened her lips, noticing for the first time that there was a ring suspended on the chain near his watch and that his fingers were turning it round and round.
Her heart stopped. It looked like a wedding ring, something beautiful and meaningful.
Did he love another? Had their marriage destroyed his hopes of felicity with a different lady?
She felt ill. It was no wonder he had taken no trouble to know her.
He was an honourable man; if they had both wished it, she could have loved him.
But he did not want her, and that hope now flickered and died.
Even so long into their marriage, she had hoped when she woke this morning, that he — that anyone — might wish her felicitations on her birthday. Today she had attained her majority, but the day had been the same as any other.
Her shoulders drooped. Perhaps they were thinking of her at Longbourn. She shivered at the thought of her mother’s part in spreading the rumours; no, she would not care. But Papa would, and so would Jane and her aunt and uncle Gardiner. How she missed them!
She turned to the silent man beside her. “If you would permit, sir, I will go in and prepare for dinner.”
His brusque nod allowed her to leave his company, if it could be called that.
Dinner was another, mostly silent, affair. Mr Darcy had looked as if he wished to say something on occasion, but lacked anything to talk of.
Elizabeth had not allowed herself to hope for a celebratory meal, or even a small gift. That was as well, or she might have wept with the disappointment.
No, she was coming to realise that she would never be accepted here.
The results from her husband’s injuries had all resolved, and seemingly most of his temper.
But it had made no difference to their marriage and Elizabeth thought it never would.
Especially if their wedding had prevented him marrying a lady of his inclination.
She could not continue here for much longer; she almost feared she might disappear, so ignored was she and any of her wants and wishes.
She jumped when her husband cleared his throat. “I looked in your chambers earlier. I believe you must be pleased with them, and looking forward to the additional space you will be afforded.”
Elizabeth bowed her head. “Thank you.” She could not say more, or the words might choke her, and they both returned their attention to their plates.
She knew now she must leave. She dare not wait if Mr Darcy’s thoughts were tending the way she thought they were. She placed her spoon down next to her dish, her appetite fading.
Her last meal here, the last experience of the luxury, and she had no time to say goodbye to it all. She would have her memories, though, and they would sustain her if she needed them.
Elizabeth looked up at her husband as he rose from his place. “I have some business to attend to, Mrs Darcy. Goodnight.”
She bowed her head. She almost wished she could tell him face to face what she had decided and why.
But he would prevent her leaving, would deride her hopes and feelings.
Perhaps he resented her for the loss of his choice of wife.
No wonder she wore an inexpensive old wedding band, while he carried a treasured one safely with him.
Alone once more, she nodded at the footman. “Have tea sent up to my room, if you please. I will retire early.”