Chapter 31
The soft, warm sheets wrapped around Elizabeth as she rolled and stretched happily in bed.
She had slept deeply and restfully now for two nights in a row, which had not happened for a long time.
She cast a look through the window — it was dawn, not entirely light yet, the wind was blowing, and the snow seemed to have turned into a freezing rain.
The fire was still burning steadily, keeping the room warm.
She stole another moment in bed, pulling the blankets up under her chin, stretching languidly, closing her eyes, and smiling at the memory of two evenings ago.
Such a moment — walking in the snow with her imagined future husband — had been a dream of her youth, when she had been determined to marry for nothing less than the deepest love.
Over the years, such dreams were often set aside in favour of more practical considerations.
When she had agreed to enter into an arranged marriage with the serious, distant, and dutiful Mr Darcy, moments like that seemed simply inconceivable.
But after the previous evening, a sense of joy filled her heart, and she could not stop smiling.
She knew it was a silly response, and yet she prayed it would last.
Only days ago, she had feared he would suggest a separation since he did not need her money any longer.
She still recollected that onerous sensation — the dread — that she might lose her new life.
That she might lose her husband. Instead, he had insisted her presence was needed and a blessing to the house; he seemed determined to please her, to indulge her wishes even against his habits and perhaps his nature.
He was tender, courteous, almost as if he were courting her, which was a ridiculous notion.
What man would court his wife? How would the courtship look in the privacy of a marriage?
How could she know since she had never been courted?
Some dances at assemblies or small private balls and parties, some teasing, some courtesy calls from a few young men? They did not count.
He had always treated her with care and consideration, but perhaps it was because, from the very beginning of their acquaintance, he had considered her his potential wife.
After all, Mr Gardiner had suggested the alliance, so his manners towards her had to be thoughtful.
However, in the recent days, he seemed different, and she felt different.
She could not identify exactly what it was; it could be a warm nuance in his voice, a smile that lasted a moment longer, a hue of brightness on his face, a touch that lingered.
So many insignificant things that caused such a significant change within her.
And no, she could not suspect his actions served some purpose.
He did not need her money; she had offered him the chance to use it, and he had refused.
What other reason might he have, except that he really appreciated her company?
He had even said as much, so why would she still doubt it?
No, she did not doubt his words; she was just too fearful to believe the meaning behind them.
She had married based on a contract, and now she had to admit she could not imagine a better marriage, nor a better husband. How was it possible? Her marriage had not even been consummated, and they both knew he was her husband only in name.
The thought of her marital duties made her cheeks burn, and the heat spread throughout her entire being as she cast a furtive glance towards the adjoining door as if fearing her thoughts or blushes could be somehow perceived from the other side of it.
His lips had rested on her palm; how would they feel on her face?
On her lips? And his hands holding hers, his fingers touching her face…
what if the touch was lower on her body?
What if his arms held her tightly against him?
He had come to her room last night, his shirt revealing his neck and even a glimpse of his chest…
and the cut of his trousers defining the muscles of his legs as he moved…
“Mrs Darcy?”
She startled and gasped. Breathless, she pressed her hand over her heart.
“Yes?”
“Forgive me, I thought you were awake,” the maid whispered. “Should I leave?”
“No, no, please come in. I am awake. I was just meditating on…I have a busy day, so please help me dress. Mr Darcy is already gone, I assume?”
“Yes, he left about an hour ago.”
“And Mrs Wickham? My sister?”
“They are still in their rooms.”
Elizabeth pushed herself out of bed, pressing her palms to her cheeks, which were still warm, grateful that the maid could not read her thoughts.
She dressed, with Janey arranging her hair carefully, while she wondered when she might expect her husband to return.
It was still early in the morning, and she was already counting the hours.
Georgiana did not join them for breakfast, so Elizabeth and Jane ate alone.
“Lizzy, may I take the carriage? I have agreed to meet Mama, Kitty, and Lydia for some shopping. I hope the snow will stop. I am not even sure whether it is snow or rain.”
“The sky looks like it is clearing, so I hope the weather will improve. If not, perhaps you should postpone until another day.”
“Oh, Lydia and Kitty will be so disappointed!”
“As you wish. Of course you may have the carriage, my dear. And here, take my purse. There should be enough money there to cover your expenses today. I shall gladly give you more tomorrow if you need it. Oh! And do tell Mama they are all invited for dinner the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you. You are the best and most generous sister one may hope for. I am sorry that Mama does not always appreciate your kindness and upsets you at times.”
“I am content to make you happy, Jane, if I can,” Elizabeth said.
A servant announced Mr Bingley, and Elizabeth invited him in, while Jane’s expression immediately brightened.
“How pleased we are to see you, sir. My husband told me you would call, but he is not at home presently.”
“Yes, he told me he would be busy the entire day. May I be of some assistance to you?”
“Thank you, you are most kind, but I do not think we… I have things that require my attention at home, and Jane plans to meet our mother, sisters, and aunt for some shopping.”
“Oh,” Mr Bingley said. “Then, perhaps… Will Miss Bennet go alone? If I am not too bold, might I escort you? If I would not be imposing, of course…”
He looked uneasy, babbling a bit. Jane’s flushed countenance and hopeful expression revealed her heartfelt approval, but she still glanced at her sister, while Elizabeth smiled at him.
“If you do not mind, then, Mr Bingley. Jane will not go alone — a maid will accompany her. But I am sure my sister would appreciate your company, and my mother and sisters would be delighted to make your acquaintance.”
“Good! Excellent! I have my carriage waiting on the street. I am at your disposal, Miss Bennet.”
The arrangement seemed perfect, though Elizabeth was slightly concerned by her stepmother’s response to meeting Mr Bingley. She would likely find a way to embarrass Jane and ruin her disposition.
After they left, Elizabeth went to Georgiana. She had to keep herself busy while wondering about her husband’s return.
“Elizabeth, may I ask…did you and Fitzwilliam go for a walk last night? In the snow?” the girl asked.
“Yes.” Elizabeth laughed. “Are we the talk of the house?”
“Oh no… Just…Mrs Green was concerned about you. Did something happen?”
“No, not at all. Your brother was kind enough to take me for a walk in the park so we could admire the first snow.”
“Oh, I see… My brother…is he still upset?” the girl asked quietly.
“Upset?”
“Yes. Because of me… The funeral is today, is it not?”
“Yes, the funeral is this morning, and no, he is not upset with you at all. He was concerned and distressed about the situation — and rightfully so. He will be happy and at peace when he sees you fully recovered.”
“I am fully recovered. I mean — I am well. I am sorry that I keep to my bed and do not join you downstairs. It is just that…I am so ashamed, and I cannot bear compassionate or reproachful glances. If my brother allowed me, I would rather go to Pemberley by myself, to not be in anybody’s way.”
“Georgiana, such words would likely upset and hurt your brother. You are in nobody’s way — you are home, with your family. As for reproaches or compassion, I am afraid none of us can command others’ feelings. But this ordeal will be over soon, and the rumours will die out.”
“I care not about the rumours. I shall never leave the house, in any case. I just wish to never upset my brother again… Or disappoint him.”
Before Elizabeth could reply, the maid announced Lady Matlock. Georgiana gasped in apparent panic, but there was no time to think or say anything, as the lady strode in.
“My dear girl, I am so happy to see you!” the countess cried, embracing her niece. Georgiana forced a smile, glancing at Elizabeth repeatedly.
“Let me look at you! You are so thin and pale! Thank God you are home!”
“Yes, Aunt.”
“I hope you are not sad about what happened… You will be a young widow, but better that than be bound to that man for the rest of your life! He did not deserve you! I am sure he forced you to marry him. You would not have eloped with him!”
“Lady Matlock, Georgiana is rightfully distressed,” Elizabeth gently intervened. “I fear such a conversation might be painful for her.”
“I am sure it is, but the situation was distressing for all of us. I expect the news about Wickham’s death will soon reach every corner of London’s saloons. Some people did not even know Georgiana was married, and now they will discover she is a widow.”
“Indeed, it is distressing for everyone, but much more so for Georgiana,” Elizabeth insisted, trying to temper the lady.
“If only it was not known what a horrible man that Wickham was,” Lady Matlock continued. “How fortunate he is dead. God have mercy on his soul…”
Georgiana’s distress turned into despair, and her glances at Elizabeth begged for help. She seemed on the verge of tears, but Lady Matlock paid no heed.
“Richard is attending the funeral with Darcy. I cannot wait for him to return and tell me all the details. We must concoct a story that can be shared about town.”
“I am sure this is a matter your ladyship should agree with Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “For now, I must kindly insist that we allow Georgiana to rest. That is what the doctor advised. May I offer you a cup of tea?”
“No, no, thank you. I am in a hurry. I have another engagement,” Lady Matlock said. “By the way, I heard you are hosting a dinner for your family the day after tomorrow. Richard will attend.”
“Yes, your ladyship. Thank you.”
“Do you intend to bring your family to my party?” the lady asked abruptly as she was stepping towards the door.
“The guest list is rather long, and I do not wish for anybody to feel crowded by unexpected additions.” Her haughty tone conveyed the message more than her words, and Elizabeth tried to keep calm while answering.
“No, your ladyship. Only my sister Jane, if that is agreeable to you.”
“Of course you may bring her. I have invited that young man Bingley. And naturally the Gardiners are already on the guest list.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth concluded, trying to conceal her hurt feelings. She had no intention of introducing her mother and younger sisters into such select company, but Lady Matlock’s conceited behaviour offended her, and she needed all her self-control to avoid a conflict.
She walked the countess to the door, then returned to Georgiana; as much as Lady Matlock had vexed her, she had hurt her niece far more.
Elizabeth sat on the bed, taking the girl’s hands in hers.
“Well, at least this first uncomfortable meeting has passed. You will receive more guests only when you are prepared. I shall make sure nobody is thrust upon you again.”
A few moments of silence followed.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?”
“My brother was fortunate to have found you. George said Fitzwilliam probably married you so quickly because of some scandal. But I do not care…I am happy he did.”
“George Wickham was the last man in the world with any right to talk about a scandal. And Mr Darcy is not a man to cause one — his behaviour is always honourable and proper. Our marriage might have appeared hasty, but it was carefully considered, and we agreed upon it,” she said in all honesty.
“My uncle’s close friendship with him probably helped. ”
“Probably. George…he despised Fitzwilliam, envied him his position as the heir, said he did not deserve it. And my brother never liked George. If only I had listened to him… But when I met George in Ramsgate, he was so kind, so affectionate… My father always loved him. And he said Papa would be happy that I loved him too.”
She began to sob, and Elizabeth embraced her, silent, helpless, grieved.
“I had never had sherry before, until George offered it to me… My companion, Mrs Younge, said I should try it. It was sweet and did not seem strong, and it made me dizzy so quickly. I do not remember… And when… I fell asleep and…there was George beside me, in bed… He said I had agreed to be his wife…that I was already his wife, and that we should elope… What else could I do? He said the consequences would be ruinous for Fitzwilliam and the entire family if we did not marry. And Mrs Younge said I might be with child…and that I must marry… What could I do?” she repeated.
The girl’s tears broke Elizabeth’s heart, and she held her tightly as the words flowed like a torrent.
When they ebbed, she continued caressing her hair, while anger overwhelmed her.
The entire story and deliberate scheme behind it — Mrs Younge’s obvious abuse of her position of trust, the circumstances of the elopement, the reasons for the girl’s insistence on marrying the man — was all revealed slowly, word by word.
And who knew what more there was to the sordid tale?
Her heart aching, her own tears threatening to fall, Elizabeth was not certain whether her eyes were betraying her when, after a soft knock, the door opened, and her husband appeared. He only took one step forwards, then, seeing them embraced, stopped and looked at Elizabeth with a frown.
His face was pale, and the dark circles around his eyes seemed to have become permanent, signs of his continuing tiredness and distress. Like the girl in her arms, he needed rest and comfort too. He needed to be protected, if only for a little while.
Elizabeth tried to smile at him reassuringly, their eyes briefly locking over his sister’s head. After a brief hesitation, he tentatively smiled back at her, then stepped out again, quietly closing the door behind him.