Chapter 28
Elizabeth closed the door then leant against it for a moment. Her knees threatened to give way, and she needed the support of the wood. Their conversation, which had begun so promisingly, had ended with a cold weight in her chest, filling her with a dread she had never experienced before.
He had said that he did not need her money any longer and would return it to her. He had said he would sign an amendment or additional clause to change their initial contract. He had said she may leave his house, purchase a house of her own, and live as she wished, by herself.
As she wished? Did she want to live differently?
She had found her place, her comfort, her peace, her meaning in the world in this particular house, in the life of this particular man, as difficult and complex as he was, full of secrets, guarded with his words, his feelings, and his actions, restrained with his smiles and with his confessions.
An honest and caring man, respected and beloved both as a master, by his household, but also as a friend by those who could get close enough to know him.
Like her aunt and uncle. Like his cousin.
Like her… This man who was her husband, regardless of the contract that kept them bound together.
Yes, perhaps she had once dreamt of living alone, as mistress of her own life.
Perhaps she had mentioned in the contract that he should allow her to live separately if she wanted to.
But that was only at the beginning, when she did not know him…
But after all this time, were such things worth remembering?
She walked slowly, on wooden legs, to the bed and sat on the edge.
She put her hands on her cheeks and wiped at them, feeling the wetness, not realising she had been weeping.
She glanced about, slowly taking in every piece of furniture, the silk paper chosen by Lady Anne that she had kept because it suited her tastes too, the small desk for her correspondence brought up from the library, the dressing table on which her brush set and hairpins lay…
This was now her bed, her chamber, separated from his only by a thin and always unlocked door.
How could he presume she wanted to leave it all?
Heavyhearted, she lay down and wrapped herself in the blankets.
Despite the steady fire, she was so cold that she shivered, and she remembered that day when they had visited the Gardiners.
She had been cold then, too, but her husband had wrapped a blanket around both of them and put an arm behind her shoulders to keep it in place, and the closeness of their bodies had warmed them.
Was it only days ago? It felt as if she had been married to him for much longer.
That day in the carriage was the first time she had felt at peace, comfortable, warm, and that she belonged with her husband.
At that time, he was just a stranger to her, a stranger with whom she had signed a contract and hoped he would respect it.
He had — to a fault. Every word written in the contract, at her request, he had followed diligently.
And today was no exception. Then why was she so upset, so hurt, so disappointed at that moment when he had reminded her that the contract allowed her liberty?
Her response was unreasonable; she realised that, as it had happened many times already in regard to her husband.
Why was she so confused, so distracted when she spoke to him, when she was near him?
She missed his presence when he was away, and she was concerned for him when she did not know his whereabouts.
When he was at home, she enjoyed his company, but there was always something, a word, a remark, a gesture, that she interpreted wrongly, ruining her pleasure; she often ended up being upset with him, even arguing with him.
She was quick to judge him or to take offence, and she often felt she had been unfair, that her response — a verbal rebuke or a silent dismissal — was too strong and largely unjust. As had happened after she had heard the three ladies talking about him outside the shop, when she suspected romantic and illicit encounters kept him away from home, or when she dismissed and even mocked his doubts about Thomas Crawford; to her shame, there had been many other occasions too.
Even earlier that morning, when he had invited her to join him for breakfast, he had offered to return her money immediately, he had granted her the liberty to choose her future.
She should be relieved and content, but she was hurt and disappointed.
Had he said something improper, something hurtful, or was it just her mistaken interpretation?
“Elizabeth, may I enter?”
She did not hear the knock, or even the door opening, so she just turned towards him while still under her bed-sheets and nodded.
“What has happened? Are you unwell?”
“I am well, thank you. Just a little tired.”
“I told you that you must rest. I am sorry to disturb you. I came to remind you that I shall not join you downstairs for breakfast. If your father is awake early, I shall say farewell to him, but I hope we shall meet in the coming days.”
“You should attend to your business with no concern for us. We shall all be well.”
“There is something I forgot to mention. My aunt Lady Matlock insisted on seeing Georgiana, but I barely convinced her to postpone the visit till Monday. If she comes, please remind her of my request.”
“Should we not ask Georgiana whether she wishes to see her aunt?” Elizabeth said, bristling again.
He looked puzzled by the notion or maybe just by her curt reply.
“We may… I had not considered that. I just assumed she would wish for peace and quiet to forget, maybe, or recover her strength.” He smiled bitterly, adding, “I have the tendency to assume too much about what people should feel or want.”
“You are probably right. You know her better, and I did not get the impression that Georgiana was desirous of company. But I shall ask her nevertheless.”
“Thank you. What would I do without you, Elizabeth?”
“You would probably do very well, I dare say, as you have done for the last eight and twenty years,” she attempted to joke.
“I did reasonably well, but my life became undoubtedly better when you became part of the family.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, somehow disconcerted by his intense gaze.
“I was thinking…perhaps, when your stepmother is in London, you may consider inviting your family and the Gardiners for dinner one evening?”
“Yes, I believe I should,” she replied, looking at him, trying to understand his thoughts, surprised by the change of subject. “For now, we should allow a day or two for things to settle down. And for Georgiana to recover a little bit.”
“The decision is entirely yours. I trust you to plan things for the best.” He gave a small smile then hesitated. “I was wondering…are you upset with me, Elizabeth?”
She was once more surprised by the direct question.
“No…why would I be? I may appear more pensive perhaps, as I have many things to consider. My cousin just appeared, then my stepmother and sisters announce they are coming to London without notice, and now the sudden change of the circumstances of our marriage…”
“These new circumstances are more advantageous for you.”
“Yes, so it appears. But if you still need my fortune for other expenses… Estate matters…at Pemberley or the other properties…”
“I do not, but I thank you for your generosity. I expect the investments I made last year will finally bring the expected profit. And this year, Pemberley’s income has increased significantly. I shall recover what has been lost, and soon.”
“I am glad. It is all testament to your hard work and character,” she said with a lump in her throat. Why was she upset again instead of being content?
“Elizabeth. Your money is no longer needed, but your presence certainly is. This house, this family, our lives, would not be the same without you.”
She nodded, disquieted. “I have no intention of leaving soon. Not as long as my presence is needed,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.
He returned a little smile and was about to leave, but from the door he turned and added, “Your presence is not only needed but also a blessing. For all of us. But for me, it is much more than that. It is something I cherish, and I only hope I have not been remiss in showing you how much.”
With a soft, “Until later,” he left the room and closed the door behind him before she had time to think of a reply.
Elizabeth gazed after him for a while, reflecting that she had not even risen from the bed while he spoke to her.
Why had she not told him that she did not wish to leave, that the present arrangement was convenient for her?
Why was she acting so foolishly? He had repeatedly told her that he trusted her judgment, but she felt like a fraud, a complete simpleton.
Obviously she was not going to get any sleep now, as nervous as she was.
She pushed back the sheets and sat again on the edge of the bed, pondering whether she should ring for Janey or manage by herself.
Deciding she could dress herself, she began preparing for the day, thinking of her husband and finally finding a satisfactory answer: their present arrangement was not just convenient for her; and while it was not exactly needed, it was certainly cherished.
***
With some difficulty, Elizabeth prepared herself for breakfast, still uncertain of her plans for the day. She sat for a little while with Georgiana; the girl’s improvement was obvious, but she was still in no disposition for open conversation, and Elizabeth did not insist.
“I heard your father and sister are here,” the girl said. “I should go downstairs and greet them, out of consideration.”
“Only if you want to. I have told them you are unwell, but if you wish to meet them, I could bring them to greet you for only a moment,” Elizabeth suggested.