Chapter 18 #2
Darcy took both of her hands in his but did not pull her into his embrace. He said, “Tell me. Do not worry about what I might be wishing to do, because it is always my wish to be serving you. What is troubling you, Lizzy?”
Darcy almost never used her family nickname, and hearing it from his lips, just now, sent tears into her eyes.
She eagerly voiced all of her worries. Of course, he had already known of Jane’s illness, but she was more specific about everything she had seen and heard, in case he was familiar with illnesses she knew nothing of.
She spoke of her mother’s change in attitude and about the oddity that, although Jane seemed almost entirely well, there was no talk about Jane’s wedding.
“And it is not as if Mr Goulding has turned from her, as Mr Bingley did—and, oh, that may sound as if I am blaming Mr Bingley for abandoning Jane, but you know that I do not feel that way at all!” She gulped a bit.
She was not sobbing, but tears continued to rise up in her eyes and just run down her cheeks, and she felt quite foolish—what would crying help?
But she finally said her deepest fear: “No, Mr Goulding seems as much in love with Jane as ever, and he comes every day, but I got to wondering if my mother seems so down, and there are no plans for Jane’s wedding—I wondered if Jane could be dying? ”
Darcy did not dismiss her idea immediately, which was very good—she hated when people treated her worries as unimportant—but which was also not so good.
A part of her wanted him to immediately say, “She could not be dying and look so well.” But he did not say that; instead, he hesitated and then said, “I trust Netherfield’s housekeeper almost as much as Pemberley’s beloved housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds.
Mrs Nicholls seems to know a great deal about medical matters, and she has shown herself to be discreet and loyal, concerning those earlier rumours about your sister’s nighttime…
disappearance. Would you agree to coming to Netherfield to ask her opinion? ”
Elizabeth said, “Oh! Why did I not think of her? That is a very good idea! Can we go now?”
He did embrace her, then. He said, “Certainly. I will arrange the carriage while you ask Mary and Georgiana to come with us so that they can use Netherfield’s pianoforte.”
Darcy, Elizabeth, and Mrs Nicholls sat together near the cheery fire in Mr Bingley’s study.
Mrs Nicholls promised that the room was quite soundproof, and so Elizabeth spoke freely.
She referenced Jane’s illness, the night of the ball, and then she told of the early-morning retching and the avoidance of food odors.
She was specific and detailed and, as she considered her emerging theory that Jane might be in the grip of a fatal illness, she closed her eyes, willing the tears away.
She did not hint of her fear, but simply asked if Mrs Nicholls had a suggestion as to the nature of the illness.
She opened her eyes and saw that the housekeeper looked surprised and a bit dismayed, but that she was very hesitant to answer Elizabeth’s question.
“Is it very awful?” Elizabeth cried. “Do you think she is going to die?”
Mrs Nicholls laid a caring hand over Elizabeth’s and said, “I believe I know what is happening, and I imagine that your mother does, as well. And I believe that Miss Bennet is not fatally ill. But…I hesitate to say…. It is not for me to…that is, I should hate to be the source of…. Oh, dear. I am not sure that I should be telling you, but I am absolutely certain that I should not be telling Mr Darcy.”
He stood immediately, but Elizabeth grabbed his hand and whispered, “Stay. Please.”
He sat.
She turned to Mrs Nicholls and said, “No matter what it is you are thinking, if you tell it to me, I will tell it to Mr Darcy, and right away. So please, if you have an idea, I would beg that you tell us both.”
Carefully keeping her eyes away from Darcy’s face, Mrs Nicholls said, “The retching, the avoidance of food smells, and yet being mostly well other than early in the morning…I am reasonably certain that your sister is with child.”
Elizabeth’s tears dried immediately. “Oh!” she said. She ventured a look at her betrothed, and he was blushing.
“My mother had five pregnancies, so I suppose she would know,” Elizabeth said. “I think that explains much of what my mother has said, and her anxiety—actually, it explains a lot of things.”
Darcy said, “Thank you, Mrs Nicholls. Obviously we will be discreet, and we came to you because we knew you would be, too.”
Elizabeth’s stunned brain started working again, and one word rose up within her. The word was “who?”—but she definitely did not want to ask that, so instead she asked, “How far along…would women be to have these symptoms?”
Mrs Nicholls said, “This condition of…expecting…is different for every woman. Not all women are nauseated, although most I have known are. It is one of the first symptoms, for most. It could be just a few weeks or possibly a fortnight…or even longer.”
“Thank you so much. I appreciate you alleviating my greatest fear.” Elizabeth signalled that the meeting was over by standing.
Mrs Nicholls scurried away, leaving the door open. Darcy hurried to close the door and held out his arms. Elizabeth burst into tears again but gladly moved straight into his embrace.
Eventually, he asked her, “Are you well?”
She had stopped crying a while ago, but she never wanted to leave his embrace. She said, “I find myself wondering if Mr Wickham might have….”
She did not wish to finish the sentence.
“I have had that thought as well,” he said.
“On the other hand….”
“You are thinking that some engaged couples…anticipate their vows?”
“Exactly.”
“It is not a problem we can solve, nor that we should solve. I wonder if I could do anything, however, to make your parents feel a bit better about this situation…if indeed it is the situation facing your sister.”
“You just said we cannot and should not solve it and then you speak of trying to solve it. Fitzwilliam, you are a saint, but I rather think that we should just remain out of it. Is it going to be terribly difficult not to say anything to Mr Bingley?”
“No. I feel that honour dictates that I not tell him.”
“It could not be Mr Bingley’s child, could it?”
There was a silence. Darcy finally said, “Well, it is of course possible, from our standpoint. I would like to think that Bingley would be able to categorically say that it is impossible, but we cannot know that.”
Elizabeth sighed. “You are so very honest. I love that, although a tiny part of me wishes you capable of fudging a bit to make the world feel a little more knowable, and a little more comfortable.”
He said, “I wish I could make you feel better.”
And her answer was, “Actually, you know very well that you could make me feel better, as well as exactly how that could be achieved.”
And so he tried and achieved that worthy goal.