Chapter 26 #2
The forgotten lists and correspondence that had yet to be read were retrieved that evening after dinner.
Elizabeth took these to their private sitting room and read the letters from her sisters while waiting for her husband to return from the stables.
As they finished dining, he had received a summons from the stables that a horse was in distress while giving birth, and he had gone to see what could be done.
It was late when he finally joined her, bathed and dressed in his night clothes, exhausted from the ordeal.
Elizabeth had fallen asleep as she waited for him, and he lifted her to carry her to bed.
The letter she had been reading fell to the floor.
Elizabeth mentioned the letter to him in the morning as they snuggled in bed. “Dearest, did you, perchance, read the letters I held when you carried me to bed?”
“I did not see any letters, my love,” he replied. “Who was it from?”
“One was from Mary,” she replied. “She and Georgiana are doing well with their studies, as is Kitty, but Mary is asking if she and Georgiana can travel to Derbyshire with my aunt. Aunt Gardiner is supposed to depart from London in a fortnight and stay with us until I give birth.”
“Neither girl will be permitted into your chambers while you deliver—they are too young and maidens. Mrs Gardiner will be with you, as I will, regardless of what the midwife says, but I do not think it will hurt our sisters to be in the house. Mrs Annesley will keep them well away, and they can assist you with your tasks both before and after the birth,” he stopped and thought for a moment.
“They are welcome to come, for my part. Will you write to Mary and your aunt to encourage them to come?”
She nodded. “I will,” she agreed, then looked pensive. “It is the second letter that I most wanted you to see. It was from your Aunt Matlock.”
Darcy was concerned by the look on her face. “And what does my aunt say?” he enquired.
“Anne is not well,” she admitted. “The doctors had been so certain that her ill health was nothing but the tonics her mother forced her to take. However, she took a turn for the worse while in London, and they retired to Kent for a rest and to get her out of the air of London. They called for a physician to accompany them as Anne soon developed a fever. The fever was brought down, but it left her weak and tired and unable to leave her bed. The Matlocks worried that Anne would not be able to recover, and a second opinion had been sought. Nothing either physician had done had restored Anne’s health.
“Richard is resigned to becoming master of Rosings upon Anne’s death,” she told him. “He is in London arranging to sell his commission—you likely have a letter telling you this in your pile.”
Darcy hugged her to his chest. “How are you doing, dearest?” he asked.
“I feel terrible for Anne, and I know Richard did not want this,” she replied sadly. “I do hope Anne will recover, but for your cousin to be willing to sell his commission points to it being more serious than a trifling cold. He must be convinced that her end is near.”
Darcy nodded. “I will not leave you,” he stated abruptly.
“Do not even suggest that I depart for Kent for Anne’s funeral, especially should she pass before you have given birth; I will be at your side when our child is born.
” The look on his face was stubborn, and she did not even attempt to dissuade him.
“Your aunt said the same thing,” she told him. “No one expects you to attend her funeral should the worst happen.”
“I do not recall seeing a letter from Richard, but I will look later,” he told her, unwilling to leave the cosy nest of their bed just yet.
They continued to speak softly of the news they received the previous day and to make plans for the morning.
Elizabeth needed to spend the morning writing letters in reply to those she had received yesterday, and Darcy needed to spend some time ensuring that all was in order for the spring planting.
He needed to write some of his letters, so the two decided to spend the morning in his study attending to business.
Just over a fortnight later, near the first of April, they were waiting in his study for the carriages bringing their family to arrive when the post arrived.
On top of the stack was a black-edged note, and both their hearts lurched upon seeing it.
Automatically, Darcy reached for the stack and laid it on his desk, excepting the one on top.
He took a deep breath and noted the Matlock seal before breaking it and opening it, reading what was contained.
“Anne has died,” he said, his voice husky in evident emotion.
“It is strange—for so many years, I avoided her due to her mother’s machinations, but since I married you, she was finally able to become a friend.
Although her letters were most frequently addressed to you, I came to know her through those letters and our interactions largely through you.
I would have never known her except for you, Elizabeth, and I wish I had more time with her now. ”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. “I am so sorry, William. Sorry that her mother prevented the two of you from knowing each other better, and sorry to have lost a cousin that I, too, wish I could have known better. Her spirit had been crushed by her mother’s influence all those years, yet her letters were so full of hope and happiness. ”
Darcy strode to where she sat and pulled her into his arms. They sat in this attitude for some minutes until a servant announced that a carriage had been spotted entering the Park.
“My apologies, sir, mistress, but Mr Pembroke sent me to inform you that two carriages have been spotted. Miss Darcy and your guests should arrive within the hour.”
“What shall we do about mourning?” Elizabeth asked her husband.
He sighed, releasing her a little. “I will wear an armband when I leave the house for however long it is required. Georgiana should wear black for a week or two if she leaves Pemberley, but you, dearest, do not need to do anything. You are too close to your confinement to be in company, nor should anyone be visiting, so I see little point in dying a dress black or purchasing something new for such a short time.”
Elizabeth momentarily thought to protest but quickly saw the value in what he said.
She was already uncomfortably hot most of the time, and wearing black would only worsen things.
Nor would she be leaving Pemberley, and she believed most of the servants would understand the reasoning behind her decision.
She would explain the matter to Mrs Reynolds, and the housekeeper would ensure that all that needed to be done was done.
The Darcys were still sorting through their post when the carriages would soon arrive at the door.
Darcy helped a very pregnant Elizabeth stand and escorted her to the entry.
When their guests arrived, all were surprised to see Elizabeth’s normally svelte form so swollen with child.
Mrs Gardiner was the first to comment. “You are positively glowing, my dear,” she said.
“I doubt it will be long before he or she arrives.”
“The midwife agrees with you, Aunt,” Elizabeth laughed.
“She remarked just last week that she suspects I will enter my confinement in the next week or two. She is also certain I will give birth to the heir based on how I am carrying the child. Regardless, I am beyond ready to meet this little one. My husband will attest to my increasing irritability and irrationality.”
They all laughed at that comment, and Elizabeth drew away her aunt and Mary, allowing her husband time with his sister. He intended to pull her aside and tell her about their cousin, leaving Elizabeth to inform her relations of Anne’s passing.
Dinner that night was subdued as Anne’s unexpected passing saddened the entire party. Mrs Gardiner had seen the wisdom in Darcy’s decision regarding mourning for the family and volunteered to travel into town the following day to obtain a few black ribbons and the like for Georgiana.
More pleasant topics were also canvassed, including sharing additional details of Jane’s wedding and the status of Longbourn.
Mrs Gardiner had helped to rein in Mrs Bennet’s more excessive ideas regarding the breakfast and the wedding, and the addition of funds from both the Gardiners and the Darcys had ensured Jane had a lovely trousseau and everything she needed to set up the house.
“They did not go on a true wedding trip, only a few days at his parent’s estate, but spent most of their ‘honeymoon’ settling into their new house,” Mrs Gardiner told them. “I have visited her several times, and they are very happy together. She looks forward to visiting here later this summer.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am happy for her and am glad that she and Mr Hastings have found each other. We only met him briefly, but William has heard much of him and his prospects. Jane will be happy.”
“Mama was surprised at Jane’s choice and a few times began to berate Jane for ‘settling’ for a barrister when she could have done better, but those outbursts were quickly restrained,” Mary told her.
“I hate to say it, Lizzy, but she is still … uncertain, I suppose, at your marriage to Mr Darcy. It irks her that you, the daughter she believed to be unmarriageable, married so well, while Jane, the daughter she believed would ‘save the family’, has married a barrister. I heard her muttering how Jane should have married better than you a few times while we were at Longbourn, and she cannot forgive you for marrying better than Jane did.”