Chapter Twenty-two
ELIZABETH SLEPT ALONE in the dower house that night, though she received a letter from Mr. Darcy that she should be ready first thing in the morning to leave for Scotland.
The next morning, the Bingley sisters were rushing about, preparing for their own departure, and she had her trunk brought to the stables and then sat on top of it until her husband-to-be appeared.
She asked him, tentative, if it was really wise, sending Caroline off to do her worst with the rumor mill.
He said she must trust him, that he would take care of her, that no matter what the rumors were, they would weather them.
“Yes,” she said, “but the babe. When it is grown, it may be difficult, with everyone whispering that it is illegitimate.”
This was the only thing that gave him pause.
“You may not worry so much about that,” she said, “but I am the baby’s mother, and I have been given the responsibility to care for it, and I must do everything I can.”
“No, I worry about that,” he said. “I do know about responsibility, Lizzy.” He sighed, looking off into the distance. “How could we appease Caroline, do you think?”
She did not know. They had gone through all of this. And besides, appeasing Caroline felt like picking open a scab that had barely closed over. Caroline did not deserve a reward. Caroline deserved… what?
Elizabeth knew she would take no pleasure in seeing Caroline punished.
Well, she would take some pleasure in seeing Caroline punished, of course, but it would be brief, and she did not need Caroline to suffer forever and ever.
Perhaps, if Caroline had taken it differently, the understanding that Mr. Darcy did not want her could have been punishment enough for the woman. But Caroline was insistent on taking her own revenge, and—
That was what it really was, was it not?
Elizabeth wanted revenge on Caroline. She liked to dress it up in words like justice or retribution, but it was very simple. Caroline had hurt her and she wished to hurt Caroline back.
“You have no notion, either, I see?” he said.
She shook her head. “I suppose I am trying to talk myself into the very notion of appeasing her. I wish her, instead, to suffer. It seems to me that, after everything, if we give her something to gratify her, it is wrong in some essential way.”
“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Darcy, nodding at her. “Oh, yes, indeed.”
“But we must think of the babe’s future,” said Elizabeth. “We must think of our own future. And if she smears both of our names, it will be difficult for us both.”
He sighed. “I have one idea, but I do not like it.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“We could have the banns read,” he said. “Stay here. Marry here. Respectably, as if we have nothing to hide about it all.”
“Well, I suppose a quick elopement does send the message we are ashamed of ourselves and trying to hide something,” she said.
“It does, and it is pointless, since an elopement in this situation does next to nothing,” he said. “Because you are too far gone with child. So, what does three weeks matter in the scheme of things?”
“I suppose it doesn’t,” she says.
“Of course, I do seem to remember someone saying she was not yet one and twenty, and we would need permission if you have not reached the age of majority, and I would need to go to your father. But with three weeks, that is not impossible.”
“I have since turned one and twenty,” she told him. “No permission is necessary.”
“Well, that is convenient,” he said. “Even so, I can’t say I entirely like that plan.”
“Why don’t you like it?”
“I wish to be married to you as soon as possible, Lizzy, obviously.”
She smiled. “Well, it might be nice to have a bit of time here getting used to things. You could introduce me to all the servants and take me for walks on the grounds, that is, if it isn’t too cold. I could spend more time getting to know your sister.”
He bowed his head.
“As for… other things,” she said quietly. “That has already happened, so I don’t see why it would matter if it happened again.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I am not so base as that,” he said, but he was smiling. “But I suppose you are right. There is no danger of getting you with child, after all.”
“None,” she said.
They smiled at each other.
“Well, then,” he said. “It is decided. I shall have our things unpacked.”
She got up from where she was sitting on the trunk. “It’s only that it solves nothing, not truly, not with Caroline.”
“No,” he said.
“You could prevent her leaving, and we could try to think of something.”
“Mmm, I could keep her locked in that room as I had threatened to do.” Something rose in his voice.
“But I suppose what I principally want is for her to be gone,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes, I quite agree,” he said. “So, perhaps we let her go.”
She pressed her hand into his chest. “Why have you taken on the responsibility of his child, Mr. Darcy? Why have you agreed to it? It could be your heir, and I have gathered that you are willing to do that, and I have not questioned it, but I worry you will regret doing such a thing for me. I worry I am not going to be everything you think I am.”
He smiled down at her. “I plan to break the entail. We’ll have other children.
There will be more than one heir, Lizzy.
I shall divide everything between them. So, you see, it doesn’t matter.
And if there are rumors, they will only be that, you know?
They will not be legalities. They will not prevent a child that I have claimed from inheriting or from anything of that nature.
Now, I suppose, if Wickham recovers and he knows, he could make trouble—”
“I have convinced him that the babe is yours, I think,” she broke in.
He furrowed his brow. “You went to see him?”
She sighed. “It was your sister’s idea. But he seemed to accept it readily. He said it was no wonder you tried to kill him.”
“That lessens his villainy towards you if I had already compromised you. I don’t like him thinking that.”
“Oh, please, Fitzwilliam, it’s better this way. I don’t want him to ever try to claim the child.”
“No, agreed,” he said. “Perhaps it is the same as Caroline. It is only, my love, why is it that all of these people who have been so wretched to you are suffering no consequences?”
“He is likely dying from that bullet wound you gave him,” she said, patting her husband-to-be’s chest. “I think he suffers.”
Mr. Darcy considered this. “Why did Georgiana wish to go and see him?”
“She said she did not know exactly. I think she wanted to see if he suffered,” said Elizabeth. “He tried to apologize to both of us. He is very, very pathetic at this point, you know.”
“Yes,” muttered Mr. Darcy. “So he is.”
Perhaps there was nothing for any of it, in the end. Perhaps others’ suffering did little to ease the suffering they had inflicted in the first place.
Perhaps there was nothing to do about suffering except endure it.
“NO,” MR. DARCY said to her later, when she voiced this thought to him idly. “No, we must not look at it all the time is all. There are things here, things that are not suffering, not even close to suffering, and we must focus on them.”
It was just after luncheon, and she had been hiding in her room at the dower house until the Bingley sisters finally left.
It had taken them all morning to get themselves together and then they had demanded to be fed something before they left, since it had gotten so late, and finally, now, they were gone.
Immediately upon their departure, Mr. Darcy had appeared at the door of the dower house, and they were now in the sitting room together, all alone, entirely unchaperoned, everything very improper.
“What things must we focus on then?” she said, giving him a smile.
“Well, I am glad we’re not in a carriage bound for Scotland, truly,” he said. “I could have done all manner of things with you in a carriage, certainly, but we can find a more comfortable venue for them here.”
“I suppose I’m to stay in the dower house for the time being.”
“I haven’t decided,” he said, giving her a wicked grin. “I think I could simply move you in ahead of the marriage, keep you in my bedchamber every night, and every afternoon, and for half of the morning—”
“Mr. Darcy!” She was giggling. She felt the laughter like something effervescent.
“At any rate, who would stop me?” he said.
“Well, I don’t know if I wish that to be the way things begin with me meeting all the servants,” she said.
“I imagine they are going to have a low opinion of me, regardless, of course, but we must not make it worse.” She gestured around.
“I am rather settled here, at any rate, and if you do not mind coming here every night and every afternoon and—”
“I do not mind a bit,” he said, smiling at her, “but is that any different from the perspective of the servants?”
“No, I suppose not,” she said. “I suppose I am a scarlet woman no matter what I do at this point.”
“You are a woman who has been badly used,” said Mr. Darcy. “I cannot say I have not used you badly myself.”
“Not badly,” she said. “No, all of your attentions have been quite good.”
“The truth is, of course,” he said, “they have not. You only have nothing to compare it to. The truth is that I have much to make up for, and I should set about remedying that now.”
She found she was not sure what to say to that.
“For one thing, we have never been entirely unclothed together,” he said. “And our first time, I was too exhausted to even give you pleasure.”
“No, our first time, you didn’t take any pleasure for yourself,” she countered.
He considered. “Well, perhaps we are even, but you are owed a much better performance from me.”
“All right,” she said, deciding to simply accept that. “Well, if I am owed it, I suppose I must collect.”
He laughed. “Yes, and when do you wish that? I currently have nothing on my schedule, you know.”
She laughed, too. “So eager, Fitz, I see.”
“Oh, rather always, since the moment I looked at you for the first time. But truly, I have accomplished much today. I went to the church, and they will announce our marriage for the first time this Sunday.”