Chapter 33 #2
As she sat there, she began reflecting on their courtship and the first months of their marriage and was reminded of a conversation between her and her aunt early on in her relationship with her now husband.
“Dear Elizabeth, you must attempt to remember Mr. Darcy cares for you and, unlike your father, will not allow you to do whatever you want,” Mrs. Gardiner said one morning after Mr. Darcy had left.
“He may seek to limit your actions because he knows what you do not—remember, he is older than you and has much more experience.”
“But if he cares for me as you say, he will listen to my opinions and not simply restrict me because he can,” Elizabeth replied.
“That may be correct, but you must also listen to him and not get angry without considering his point of view. Your father has allowed you freedom—at times, too much freedom—because it was easier for him to let his daughters do as they wished. He educated you because you would not let him do otherwise, but for the most part, he did not concern himself with anything you did. I do not believe Mr. Darcy will do the same. He will want to protect you and, at times, may ask you to do as he asks merely because he is asking,” Mrs. Gardiner explained.
“There have been times in my own marriage that I have had to obey Mr. Gardiner, not because I wanted to necessarily, but because I knew that he had my best interests in mind. He was the worst when I was with child—he was so overprotective, and I thought I would go mad, but he acted out of love.”
Elizabeth began to cry as she remembered this conversation and how poorly she treated her husband that day.
He had explained his reasoning—concern for her health—and while he may not have expressed it well, he acted out of love.
As the tears turned to sobs, she struggled to convince herself she had not ruined everything.
Fitzwilliam found her this way a short time later.
She had fallen asleep in the chair, but the evidence of tears was still on her face.
Carefully, he picked her up and carried her into their shared bedroom, and after divesting her of her restricting clothing, laid her on the bed.
He removed his boots, coats, and cravat and lay beside her to watch her.
He had been surprised she had not woken when he carried her to bed or undressed her, but she had been sleeping more than usual of late.
Part of him wanted to worry about her, but he recalled what he had been told regarding the need for pregnant women to sleep more than usual.
Lost in these thoughts, he barely noticed when she stirred next to him.
“Fitzwilliam,” a soft voice called, “I am so sorry. I behaved as a child earlier.”
“It is well, dearest,” he whispered back, pulling her into his arms and wiping away the traces of tears. “It is well.”
George Darcy had left ahead of the rest, as Lord Matlock sent a letter about the petition to award the marquessate that needed immediate attention. The Regent had questions that needed to be addressed immediately, and George rushed home to take care of them.
Lord Matlock also had news on George’s proposed marriage—the lady was ready to go through with it but was now insisting on a rushed affair to occur within the month.
After George obtained the information he needed, he was to travel to London to meet with the lady and her father regarding the wedding preparations and marriage settlement.
Upon his arrival in London, George Darcy received two significant pieces of news that would profoundly affect his future.
First, he learned the Regent had granted his petition to elevate his title to the Marquessate of Kympton.
Second, he discovered the lady who would become his wife, Lady Arabella, the third daughter of a powerful duke, was with child.
While there were no formal contracts binding him to this marriage yet, George was well aware that his agreement to marry Lady Arabella had played a significant role in securing the Regent’s approval of his petition for the marquessate.
This knowledge presented him with a moral dilemma.
On one hand, he could choose to withdraw from the verbal agreement, given that the arrangements had not been finalised.
On the other hand, he could not ignore the political and social implications of reneging on his commitment, considering the delicate web of connections and obligations that came with his newfound title.
After careful consideration, George decided to honour his commitment and proceed with the wedding.
George prayed earnestly that the child his future wife carried would be a girl and swore that he would never touch her before or after the child was born.
If the child were a girl, that would mean that eventually, his brother or his brother’s child could inherit the title and the estate, and he would ensure his wife kept what she brought into the marriage.
George had begun to believe that women resembling his sister-in-law were exceptions to the rule.
Many women seemed driven by avarice and self-interest in the social circles he frequented.
He could not help but recognize that, with his newly acquired title, he might not have the liberty to pursue a woman akin to his brother’s choice.
His sister-in-law Elizabeth possessed qualities that reminded him of his mother, making her a rare find among the women he had encountered.
In his estimation, she held far greater value than most others he had crossed paths with, and he would be a fool to hold out for one like her.
With that in mind, he worked with his solicitor and the duke and wrote a marriage settlement mutually beneficial to both husband and wife.
Lady Arabella would bear the Darcy name, and if the child were a female, she would be recognized as Miss Darcy, but a male child would be sent to live with the duke and be raised as his ward and not recognized as a Darcy.
George Darcy was willing to marry her but not to claim her son as his heir, a point he made very clear during the discussions.
The only other condition that George held fast to was that, as he would never touch her and they would live most of their married life apart, she should not expect to bear another child.
Should that happen, George retained the right to divorce her and keep her dowry for himself.
George briefly pondered how his brother, Fitzwilliam, would respond to this revelation.
Fitzwilliam had never aspired toward a title and had found contentment in his ascension to a landowner.
Before inheriting the estate, he had led a fulfilling life as a barrister and would have gladly continued on that path if not for the shocking news of his inheritance upon his marriage.
However, depending on the circumstances with Lady Arabella, there was still a possibility that Fitzwilliam might eventually succeed to the title and Pemberley.
Otherwise, the inheritance might pass to Fitzwilliam’s son.
Guided by the laws of primogeniture, it was improbable that George’s child would inherit, as he had no intentions of bequeathing his estate to another’s illegitimate offspring.
The duke reluctantly agreed to the conditions set forth by George, having little choice in the matter, and after discussing matters with Lady Arabella, the marriage settlements were signed, and a week later, the marriage was solemnized in the church.
The new Marquess and Marchioness of Kympton travelled to Pemberley, forgoing a wedding trip due to the circumstances of the marriage.
There, the newly minted marquess retained the master’s chambers while his wife was assigned a suite in another wing of the house.
Lady Anne was far from pleased with these developments.
Having observed her during the last two seasons, she held no particular affection for the so-called lady, and the idea of yielding her position did not sit well with her.
The fact that the newly-married couple were already separated and the lady was already with child signalled to Lady Anne that her son had entered into a marriage that diverged from the type of union she shared with her husband or the one her younger son enjoyed with his wife.
In a relatively short period, Lady Anne relocated herself and her daughters to the dower house.
Since they had relocated to Pemberley, Lady Anne had decided to ‘adopt’ the youngest Bennet girls into her family and considered them her own.
Like Elizabeth, Kitty and Lydia considered themselves orphans since their parents wanted little to do with them now that they were no longer at Longbourn.
Darcy Cottage—a name that was scarcely deserved, given its size—provided ample space to accommodate the matron and the three girls and the governess and tutors required for their education.
Some of the household staff transferred from the main house, and it took significant persuasion to convince Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, to remain at the main house rather than moving to the dower house with Lady Anne.
“Mrs. Reynolds, I am afraid that the new mistress will need you to remain to ensure the house is taken care of,” Lady Anne had said to her longtime housekeeper.
“As much as I would like you to join me at the dower house, I am afraid it is best that you remain at the main house. Please, feel free to still come to me if there is anything I can do.”
With this, Mrs. Reynolds had reluctantly agreed to stay.
While pleased with her new title, Lady Arabella Darcy, Marchioness of Kympton, was not particularly interested in running the household due to her overall sickness from her pregnancy.
The lady rarely stirred from her rooms and felt ill most of the day.
It did not take long for Mrs. Reynolds to realize her former mistress had been correct—Pemberley needed her there.