Chapter 5
“Would anyone care for cards?” Darcy asked when the gentlemen joined the ladies after dinner.
“Oh, yes, that would be delightful!” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “Do you not think so, Jane? Elizabeth?”
Jane, who had been steadily wilting throughout the evening, managed a smile but said, “I do beg you all play, but I am quite tired and believe I must retire.”
“Shall I walk up with you to your bedchamber, my dear?” Charles asked immediately.
“Oh, pray do not!” Jane said. “You have not seen Mr. Darcy in a year, and in any case, I plan to go to sleep immediately. My maid can take care of me.”
“Your maid is still back at the inn waiting for the Hursts’ carriage to be repaired,” Elizabeth reminded her sister as she rose to her feet. “But I will gladly look after you. I bid you good night, and thank you for a delightful dinner, Mr. Darcy.”
“Until tomorrow,” Darcy returned with a bow, which was mimicked by Bingley and Hurst.
Charles watched his bride leave, his brow wrinkled with concern, and Miss Bingley snapped impatiently, “She will be well enough, Charles. Elizabeth will no doubt take excellent care of her.”
“She will,” Louisa Hurst agreed gently. “You know the sisters are very close, and Elizabeth is accustomed to Jane’s needs.”
“Yes, of course, you are correct,” Charles agreed, his expression lightening. “Well, Darcy, what do you think? There are five of us. Shall we play loo? Vingt-et-un?”
“I am confident that Mr. Darcy would prefer loo,” Miss Bingley declared, and Darcy, who did not really care, could only acquiesce with a silent nod of his head.
/
“Sleep well, my dear,” Elizabeth murmured, pressing a kiss on her sister’s brow.
Jane was already half asleep and merely smiled wearily as Elizabeth blew out the candle and glided out of the room and into her own chamber.
She was pleased to have a good excuse for going above stairs early, and while usual etiquette would compel her to return to the drawing room, she felt it best to stay nearby in case Jane needed her.
Molly, Jane’s maid, was very competent, but with limited space in the two carriages, she had been left behind with Mr. Hurst’s valet.
Elizabeth did not trust unknown servants to care for her sister appropriately, and thus enjoyed the pleasure of sitting by the window reading one of her favorite books as the sun sank toward the horizon. It was in every way delightful.
/
“Really,” Caroline fumed angrily when she and Louisa retired to Louisa’s sitting room later in the evening, “I cannot believe that Jane and Elizabeth could be so very rude! It is shocking that they retreated to their bedchambers within minutes of the gentlemen’s arrival tonight!”
“I think it likely that Jane is pregnant and is both exhausted and ill,” Louisa said baldly.
Caroline, who had been preparing her next batch of vitriol against her sisters by marriage, turned pale at these words and asked, “What?!”
“I think Jane is pregnant,” Louisa repeated. “It should be no surprise, sister. Charles worships the ground she walks on, after all, and she is a most affectionate wife.”
Caroline gulped and said, “What makes you think that she is increasing?”
“She has been exceptionally tired, and she was obviously uncomfortable with the motion of carriage. You know I am very sensitive to motion sickness, but while I felt reasonably well during our journey today, she looked very pale,” Louisa said.
Miss Bingley pursed her lips in disapproval. “Even if you are correct, that is no reason for Jane to be discourteous to Mr. Darcy. Being pregnant is no great thing, after all.”
Louisa huffed and stood up. “Nonsense, Caroline. Some women are entirely well during pregnancy, and others are terribly sick. Our mother was one of the latter, she was confined to bed for much of her time with you.”
Caroline’s mouth dropped open and she said, “Surely not! I never heard such a thing.”
“Why would you?” her sister asked. “Mother died of fever when you were not yet six years of age, so she never told you, and I was not inclined to mention it previously. I was nine years old when she fell pregnant with you, and she was exhausted and in bed for weeks at a time. Now, I am weary and ready for my own bed. Good night, Caroline.”
Caroline murmured her own good night and made her way out of the sitting room, into the corridor to her own bedchamber.
If Louisa was correct, and Jane was pregnant, well, that would only boost the bumptious pride of Charles’s wife.
On the other hand, if Jane was tired and ill, Elizabeth would be waiting on her sister more of the time.
That was certainly to Caroline’s advantage, as it would shield Mr. Darcy from the unladylike, country-bred Miss Bennet.
In any case, she would find some way to turn this to her advantage. She was Miss Caroline Bingley. She would not be dissuaded from her purpose. She would be mistress of Pemberley.
/
Elizabeth lay in her bed, a very comfortable one, and stared up at the ceiling. It had been an eventful day, and she ought to be tired, but her mind was too active for sleep.
Jane was her primary concern. Her dear sister was not inclined to complain, but Elizabeth knew that she was uncomfortable and fatigued.
She would have to work with Charles to ensure that Jane was able to rest as much as she needed.
Jane, whose awareness of cultural niceties was exquisite, would be reluctant to stay in her bedchamber when, by all rights, she ought to be providing good company to her host and his family.
But whether Mr. Darcy liked it or not, Jane’s health and unborn child were of primary concern, and Elizabeth would do everything in her power to protect both.
As for Mr. Darcy, well, the master of Pemberley was still a puzzle to her. He had been courteous to his guests today, but there was none of the ease of manner which drew men and women to Charles Bingley. Perhaps he was merely reserved.
Lastly, Elizabeth’s thoughts turned to the most unusual Miss Darcy.
She was certainly extraordinary in her speech, which was often discourteous, at least according to the mores of society.
But it was obvious to Elizabeth that Georgiana Darcy merely spoke the truth as she saw it.
Elizabeth frowned in the darkness. Lieutenant Wickham, who had known Miss Darcy from childhood, had said…
What had he said?
/
Longbourn
May 22nd, 1812
“My dear Miss Bennet,” George Wickham exclaimed, striding over to her, his handsome face alight with pleasure. “I am pleased to be spending our last evening in Meryton here with my dear friends, the wonderful Bennet family.”
“You know my mother enjoys entertaining, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, glancing around at the militia officers who were crowding into the drawing room of Longbourn. “Indeed, she would have been most distressed if Lady Lucas had prevailed in hosting the regiment for the last time.”
“The last time, yes,” Wickham responded, his blue eyes fixed sorrowfully on Elizabeth’s fair countenance. “I am grieved that we will be parted soon and can only hope that someday our paths will cross again.”
“That would be pleasant, sir, though I fear it is an unlikely happenstance. Your regiment is off to Brighton, and it seems unlikely that you will ever be stationed in Meryton again.”
“That is true enough,” the lieutenant agreed. “I understood from Miss Lydia that there is some chance that your family will travel to Brighton this summer. The sea air is supposed to be most salubrious.”
Elizabeth shook her head and said, “Lydia is merely being foolishly optimistic. My father dislikes leaving Longbourn, and besides, both Kitty and Lydia just returned from London a few weeks ago. They were well entertained by Jane and Mr. Bingley, and my father is certainly not inclined to allow them to travel far from home again in the coming months.”
Wickham sighed and inquired, “And what of you, Miss Bennet? Will you have the opportunity of traveling to London soon?”
“Well, as to that, no,” Elizabeth answered, slightly uncomfortable. “Jane and her husband have invited me to join them on a journey north, and we will visit various great houses like Chatwood, Matlock, and Dovedale.”
“How marvelous! Will you be journeying as far as Derbyshire, perhaps?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, Mr. Darcy is a close friend to Mr. Bingley, you know, and has invited our party to spend two weeks at Pemberley.”
Mr. Wickham’s smiling countenance shifted to one of profound melancholy. “Oh, how I envy you, I truly do! Pemberley is such a remarkable place; the woods, the streams, the mansion itself! It will always hold a special place in my heart, even though I can never return.”
Elizabeth sighed sympathetically. In the course of her six month acquaintance with Mr. Wickham, she had heard much about his early life as the son of a former steward of Pemberley.
The now deceased Mr. George Darcy had been Wickham’s godfather and had set aside a valuable church in Derbyshire for the young man.
Sadly, the current Mr. Darcy, apparently a jealous individual, had refused to bestow the living on Wickham, which had resulted in the lieutenant’s current predicament.
He was handsome and exceptionally charming, but he was also impoverished.
Elizabeth had thought more than once that she might have considered marrying the lieutenant if he had been eligible, but alas, he was not.
Wickham was poor, and Elizabeth’s dowry was nearly nonexistent. No, there was no future for them.
“I am sorry for bringing up such a painful topic,” she said.