Chapter 12
It was now October. Shawls were brought out and worn with regularity around the Bennet household so as to keep warm without having to use too much costly wood for heating.
However, the cooler weather did not stop Mr. Bennet from taking his daily walks, frequently in the company of Mrs. Withers.
He doubted any tongues were wagging in town about their tours although he continued to suggest paths that would steer clear of Meryton or areas more populated.
The hills and meadows seemed to give them plenty of areas to explore and enjoy in solitude.
That month the Bennets were also anxiously awaiting word from Pemberley on Elizabeth’s safe delivery of her second child.
When the letter did arrive, it did not bring happy news.
It was a horrifically long labor, Darcy wrote, and Lizzy bled so much she nearly died.
She was still confined to her bed. The baby—a girl—seemed sickly and of a poor constitution.
They had named her Lavinia Jane, and prayed she would rally.
Darcy asked the Bennets to add their prayers for Lizzy and the child as well.
The day after receiving the news from Pemberley, Mr. Bennet called Mary into his library. She brought along the most recent book they were discussing, but he waved it aside and asked her to sit.
“Mary, I have decided I shall send you to Pemberley. Your sister is not well following her difficult childbirth, and I believe having you there will help.”
“Papa, I shall do as you ask, of course, but I cannot see that I shall be of much use. Surely they have servants and nursemaids and such who are more suited to the tasks at hand.”
“Your role will be more of spiritual, uplifting support than actual caregiving, my dear. In his letter, Darcy says she is ‘quite low in spirits’ and in need of cheering up.”
“Is Jane unable to attend her? They are much closer than Lizzy and I ever were.”
“Jane is not able to be with Lizzy at this time. She and her children have caught very bad colds and it would not be prudent to send her now. Go and pack your things, for you will leave tomorrow. Think of it as an opportunity to become closer to your older sister. And,” he added with a smile, “do not discount the joys of the Pemberley library. It is the envy of many counties.”
Mary nodded obediently and exited, calling for Sarah to assist her in packing.
***
The trunks were nearly filled—after all, when you are still in mourning, what did it really matter what you wore, Mary thought—when Kitty poked her head in the bedroom.
“Papa just told me you are going to Pemberley—lucky you.”
“Am I?” Mary replied as she dismissed Sarah with a nod. “I think you would have been a better choice. You enjoy all the socializing of Pemberley. Who knows? Perhaps you could meet some dashing young lord from the county and gain a husband.”
Kitty snorted as she strolled in. “Yes, and dressed in black I would be such a fetching catch. I cannot wait to be done with deep mourning and at least be able to wear violet or something. Two more months.” She plopped down in a chair and arched an eyebrow at her sister.
“Besides, who is to say I shan’t find somebody local? ”
Mary blinked in surprise and pushed her spectacles up on her nose. “Is there someone—that is, have you met someone of interest around Meryton? There are just the same old people we all know. Oh! Is it Digby Morrison? I believe he has always admired you.”
Kitty burst out laughing. “I would prefer to remain single my entire life than marry that picksome old thing! Besides, Maria Lucas has her eyes set on him and is welcome to him. No. There is nobody…in particular, but who knows? Things can always change in a heartbeat, you know.” She got up and walked to the door, then turned with what Mary thought was an impish expression.
“I shall miss you though. With just Papa and me here, it will be so quiet. Give Lizzy my love. And who knows—perhaps you will be the one to catch the eye of a handsome lord in Derbyshire.” With a laugh, she flounced out.
Mary closed the lid on her trunk. She knew she had to go; it would not do to disobey her father.
But she might be gone for weeks—a month or more!
That would mean so much time away from Mr. Yarby.
She had contrived to come up with Bible passages that needed his explanations at least once a week, and she felt that it had been time well spent.
The two were more and more comfortable with each other, Mary felt.
While she had to admit there was nothing overt in Mr. Yarby’s behavior to make her believe he was falling in love with her, and he was still formal in all his addresses to her, it was only a matter of time, she was certain, before he would declare himself.
I hate to be gone just now, but perhaps he will miss me. As the old saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Annoying as it is to leave, it might actually work in my favor.
***
Three days later, Mary arrived at Pemberley.
Mr. Hill had accompanied her, but he was a man of such a taciturn nature that, even when he was not sleeping, there was next to no conversation to make the tedious journey seem faster.
Mary reflected she might as well have traveled alone after all—improper though that would have been.
Mr. Hill would stay the night at Pemberley and return at once to Longbourn.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, was the sole person to greet Mary. She apologized for Mr. Darcy and his sister being absent from Pemberley at present. She then led Mary down the hall, but stopped at an unexpected door. Before she could open it, however, Mary cleared her throat, stopping her.
“Pardon me, Mrs. Reynolds, but shan’t I be staying in the bedchamber where I usually stay when we all come at Christmas?
” Mary said. “I normally get the west-facing room with the green wall paper, farther down the hall.” She gestured lamely.
“This room is always taken by my sister Jane and Mr. Bingley.”
Mrs. Reynolds firmly shook her head. “Oh no, miss—you are to have the Rose Room on this visit. Mrs. Darcy was quite insistent upon that!” She flung open the door, and nodded for Mary to enter.
“I shall send your trunks up directly.” With a final smile and nod, she bustled down the hall, leaving Mary to explore her new accommodations.
It was a large and well-appointed bedchamber with three separate sitting areas, all furnished with one or two upholstered chairs or a settee—one in the corner to the right of the entry, one at the fireplace, and yet another near the windows.
More than anyone could ever really need, Mary thought.
Rather a waste of furniture, to own it. However, she had to admit it was all beautiful.
There was also an elegant desk that was set by the windows.
She walked over and stroked the beautiful burl oak and noted there was an ink stand, freshly sharpened pens and plenty of paper already set out—such generosity!
I shall make use of this desk to write Amelia very often. It could not hurt to have her share my letters with her brother and therefore keep me in his mind.
There was a knock at the door, and upon her calling “enter,” two footmen carried in her trunks, followed by a maid who curtseyed, introduced herself as Julia, and said that she would act as lady’s maid.
She informed Mary that she would unpack if the lady would like to stretch her legs around the estate for a while.
“I should like to see my sister if possible,” Mary said, keeping her duty in mind.
“Mrs. Darcy is asleep at present, miss,” came the reply. “She should be awake for tea and a bite to eat around four; that has been her routine of late.”
“I understand Mr. Darcy is not at home?” Mary was a bit miffed not to be greeted by him when she arrived.
“He had urgent tenant issues to deal with on the far end of the estate. Took young master Thomas with him too. I don’t expect we shall see him until dinner.”
Mary nodded, donned her pelisse, and went down the stairs. She was tempted to visit the library, but she knew that, if she did, she would soon curl up with a book, and it did seem like a better idea to stretch her legs after all the hours of sitting in the carriage.
***
After an hour or so, Mary returned to the house, thoroughly chilled. She hurried upstairs to sit by the fire in her room. One thing about her brother-in-law, he was not one to skimp on the wood for heating!
As she moved towards her room, she heard a plaintive wailing from down the hall.
The new baby? Mary walked to the nursery and cautiously opened the door to see a nursemaid walking back and forth, holding a tiny bundle from which the screams emanated.
When the nursemaid turned around, she gave a little start to see Mary, then dropped a small curtsey.
“G’day, miss. Are you the sister, then?” she asked.
“Yes, I am Mary Bennet. And you are…?”
“Beatrice, ma’am. Pleased to meet you. Sorry for the noise, but this’un fusses night and day. The wet nurse just fed her, so it’s not that she’s hungry.”
“May I see my niece?” Mary moved closer, and Beatrice turned the bundle towards her.
A squalling, red face peeked out of the blankets.
Never one to feel much interest in babies before, Mary surprised herself by reaching out and taking the babe from Beatrice’s arms. She jostled her niece and made soft shushing sounds as she walked around the nursery.
To her amazement, little Lavinia stopped screaming and stared up at the strange face with intensity.
“Hello, Miss Lavinia Jane Darcy,” Mary said. “Very pleased to meet you. I am your aunt Mary.”
“Gracious me, I can hardly believe it,” exclaimed Beatrice. “I thought she’d never stop screaming. You have a touch, you do for sure, miss.”
“I doubt it,” Mary said practically. “More likely she just cried herself out.” She peered closer and reached out one finger, smiling as baby latched onto it firmly.
Noting a comfortable chair by the window, Mary walked over and sat, still rocking her niece.
She smiled as she watched Lavinia’s eyes slowly droop and close.
I barely remember Kitty and Lydia as babies, since they were sent away until weaned. And why were we all sent to a wet nurse? Did Mama not enjoy holding us? Goodness, I quite like the feel of this.
Mary was quite content to hold her sleeping niece until Julia arrived to suggest that Mary change for dinner.
“Oh. I quite lost track of time and forgot about visiting my sister—is she available for a short visit now?”
But Julia shook her head, saying Mrs. Darcy was indisposed. Mary reluctantly gave the baby back to Beatrice and went to her room.