Chapter 15 A Heavy Heart
Elizabeth went to retrieve an overwrought Mrs Fitzwilliam from the Matlocks’ Derbyshire estate and brought her home to Pemberley. Her world had shattered as much as Elizabeth’s, if not more.
Georgiana spent much of her time apologising to Elizabeth, who tried to convince her there was no need, but she insisted to the point where Elizabeth could see the advantage of leaving her company.
To occupy the young woman’s mind, she handed over the keys to Pemberley, begging her to take care of the household duties while she followed Mr and Mrs Bingley to town to purchase warmer attire for the coming winter.
Elizabeth loathed being cold; she had endured enough of it in the draughty cottage to last her a lifetime.
Garments could be acquired in Lambton, but Elizabeth wanted to go to London for another purpose.
Jane and Charles were ecstatic when Elizabeth announced she would accompany them to town and insisted she join them in their carriage. There was plenty of room. The Bingleys had journeyed to Pemberley with two carriages, and plans were made for their departure a week hence.
#
London
Jane had forgotten to mention a trifling detail, namely Mrs Elliot née Bingley and her husband, Mr William Elliot, who were currently residing in the Hursts’ townhouse.
The reunion was lukewarm at best. Elizabeth soon discovered that two and a half years was not enough time away from Mrs Caroline Elliot.
She was now married to the heir presumptive of a baronetcy in Somersetshire, which, provided that the current baronet did not produce a male heir nor outlive him, would include both the baronetcy and Kellynch Hall.
The current owner was a widower with three grown daughters and in excellent health.
Mr Elliot’s aspirations might yet come to naught, but by Mrs Elliot’s account, it was already settled.
“I would have thought you would stay at your own townhouse, Mrs Darcy. I understand you have not had the opportunity to visit it yet.”
“No, I have not,” Elizabeth admitted.
“It is much larger than my brother’s and certainly more elegant.” Mrs Elliot smirked. “I wonder what could have persuaded you to choose Hurst’s humble abode.”
“I am removing to my townhouse on the morrow. Arriving at such a late hour, I thought it prudent to stay here for the night. Besides, Ellie and Charlie enjoy each other’s company so much.
It would have been cruel to part them after they had both fallen asleep in the carriage.
It is better for them to say their proper goodbyes when they awaken in the morning. ”
“Yes, I heard you had a daughter,” Mrs Elliot remarked as an afterthought. “It must have been a taxing experience since it kept you away from town for three whole Seasons. Though I ran into Mr Darcy and dear Georgiana at many events around town.”
Mrs Elliot’s smile was anything but sincere, and the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head in Elizabeth’s imagination.
“It was difficult,” Elizabeth admitted. It was clear Mr Darcy had not given any explanation for her absence, else Mrs Elliot would not have needed to prod her.
“It must have been arduous to be unwell with all the renovations to the house disturbing your rest. I aided dear Georgiana on numerous occasions, picking out fabrics and colours.”
Elizabeth fought the impulse to shudder, though she doubted Mrs Elliot’s influence had been significant; the colours at Pemberley were subtle and delicate, traits that lady did not possess.
“Not at all. Pemberley is such a large estate that one need not be bothered if one has not the inclination,” Elizabeth replied with a disarming smile.
“Well, I admit I have a hankering to see it for myself now that the renovations are complete,” Mrs Elliot hinted, clearly hoping for an invitation. When Elizabeth said nothing, the lady asked, “Is Georgiana in town?”
“No, unfortunately not. She is busy with estate matters. I am certain you understand.” She had momentarily forgotten that Mr Elliot did not yet possess an estate.
Mrs Elliot’s countenance soured, and she turned her attention to Jane, overlooking Elizabeth for the rest of the evening—an omission Elizabeth did not mind at all.
#
The next morning
Darcy House on Grosvenor Square was impressive, adding to Elizabeth’s apprehension that she was being impertinent coming here without sending a message in advance. She could not help but fear she might have been rejected if she had.
The imposition had a just cause. She had come to offer her gratitude to her husband for securing her future and that of her daughter.
She owed him as much. She knocked on the carriage roof to notify Mr Bingley’s footman that she was ready to alight.
He handed her out and lifted Ellie into her mother’s arms. With a fortifying breath, she ascended the few steps and knocked on the door. A butler opened it and bade her enter.
“May I take your calling card, madam?”
“I am Mrs Darcy and this is Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, nearly giving the old butler an apoplexy.
The servant bowed deeply and asked whether there was any luggage to be brought in. Elizabeth confirmed that there was, and footmen were sent out to retrieve it.
“May I offer you a cup of tea while your chamber is readied, Mrs Darcy?”
“No, I thank you. We have only travelled from my brother’s house on Grosvenor Street. Is Mr Darcy at home?”
The butler looked somewhat bothered.
“He is not, ma’am.”
“Do you know when he will return?”
“No, but I am certain it will not be in the immediate future.”
“Whyever not?”
“Mr Darcy left several weeks ago and gave no indication of when he would be back.”
A heavy stone settled in Elizabeth’s stomach. He was not there. Her journey had been for naught. But where could he have gone? He had estates everywhere. He could be in Scotland, Ireland, or, heaven forfend, France!
“Do you know Mr Darcy’s location? I have a letter I would like to send.”
“I am not at liberty to say, Mrs Darcy.”
“Did he expressly state that I was not to know?”
“He did not, but he implored me to tell no one. I cannot help but think he might not have meant you, Mrs Darcy, but I cannot overrule the master’s strict instruction. I could send him a letter to clarify whether he meant to include you.”
“Let me consider it. I shall let you know when I decide.”
Her chamber was ready shortly thereafter.
It was as if she had been expected. Perhaps Mr Darcy had anticipated her sojourn to town after Mr Knightley had brought her the deed to half of Pemberley and the copy of his will.
Elizabeth acknowledged that it might be her Mr Darcy was avoiding, leaving instructions to keep his whereabouts a secret.
Sleep does not come easily to those with a heavy heart and a burdened mind. Elizabeth pulled a dressing robe over her shift and crept downstairs in the dead of night with a single candle to light her path. She was no longer concerned about what the servants might think of her.
She found the library easily enough. Despite the ample size of the house, Mr Darcy had no separate study; a large oak desk was situated amidst the bookshelves. It was impossible to resist sitting in his chair and smelling the leather; his scent still lingered vaguely on the back.
A notebook lay in front of her. The temptation proved too great, and Elizabeth opened it.
The book was empty, but sheets had been torn out.
Elizabeth let her fingers brush over the empty page.
It was blank, but she could feel the indentions from the words he had jotted on the previous sheet.
Elizabeth felt a strong impulse to unravel what his last thoughts had been.
She rummaged through the desk and found the drying sand.
She spilt a little on the page and blew gently.
The fine sand filled the indentions, and a repetitive mantra emerged.
Elizabeth knew exactly what she must do, but first, she needed to sleep.
#
Hurst House, the following morning
“Jane, I have a big favour to ask of you.”
“Yes?”
“May Ellie spend the day with Charlie tomorrow—possibly the night too? I do not expect to be gone for long.”
“Certainly, but where are you going?” Jane asked.
“I cannot tell you,” Elizabeth replied cryptically.
“It is nothing dangerous, is it?” Jane pressed with evident concern.
“No, not at all.”
Jane moved closer and whispered in her ear.
“You are not going to see the colonel?”
“Certainly not!” Elizabeth retorted, aghast. She had no wish to ever lay eyes on Colonel Fitzwilliam again.
“Please, do not ask more of me. Mr Darcy is not at home, and I am reluctant to leave Ellie in an unfamiliar house after our trouble with the colonel. I feel she would be safer here than at Darcy House with only the servants for protection. I would much rather leave her with you and your husband. Your Mr Bingley has grown much in my esteem since he married you, dear Jane. Your influence has been the making of the man. I am certain of it.”
Jane blushed prettily at the praise as Elizabeth expected—always so modest.
“Ellie is always welcome here, Lizzy.”
“Thank you, Jane. I shall bring her on the morrow. I have an engagement with a seamstress on Bond Street in half an hour and must make haste.”
Elizabeth almost forgot to ask when the Bingleys were planning to remove to Netherfield.
Jane showed all the signs of increasing again, and Elizabeth surmised they would soon retire to their country estate for a longer sojourn.
She was about to ask when she sensed a presence behind her.
She jolted away from the tall form of Mr Elliot, her hands flying involuntarily to clutch her chest while she yelped.
Mr Elliot was solicitous, begging her pardon for startling her so, but Elizabeth backed away.
He was a glib man, a trait she could not trust, and since the calamity in the library, she could not abide anyone standing behind her.
After calming her racing heart, she left the Bingleys’ townhouse for a much-needed shopping excursion.