Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
That evening, Elizabeth recovered enough to join the family for dinner, although she remained stoic.
After the meal, at which she had ignored many concerned looks, Aunt, Uncle, and Jane went to dress for another card party, while Elizabeth opened a novel in her bedchamber.
Before she had read more than a few words, a knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?”
Jane came in, and her brows rose in surprise. “Would you like me to help you prepare for the party?”
“Not tonight. I have changed my mind about coming out, Jane.” She would not go back to her childish clothes or hairstyle, but she was uninterested in courting the vipers to be found in London society.
“But why, Lizzy? I thought you were amused by your engagements. If this is about Mr. Darcy, do not let him affect you so. Mr. Bingley and Caroline were as upset as I was by his behavior and will surely support you in society.”
“That is good of them, but it is not only Mr. Darcy. I have had enough for now of the knowing glances and outright insults, but I could ignore those, as well, if the reward were attractive to me. Uncle Bennet does not wish for me to marry until I am of age, so why should I rush? I would prefer to paint and read and play the instrument. After all, do not women always say they no longer have time for such pursuits after marriage?” Elizabeth told the truth, but she conveyed her decision lightly so as to appease her cousin’s curiosity and forestall any argument.
“I am sorry people have been unkind.”
“No matter. Five Seasons would be unconscionably expensive. I really do not understand why I was encouraged at all to come out this year.”
“I believe my mother hoped you might make an early match.” Jane reddened, clearly embarrassed by her mother’s unrelenting dislike of Elizabeth.
“Well, I pray she will not be too disappointed.”
The next afternoon, Elizabeth sat sewing with Jane and Aunt Gardiner.
She had no masters this spring due to her anticipated social schedule.
The night before, she had decided to resume painting and pianoforte instruction for one more year.
As she sewed small gowns and shirts for Aunt’s charity, she spoke of another thought she had been considering for some time.
“Aunt, I would like to begin attending your charity meetings with you. Would that be acceptable?”
“Certainly, Lizzy. You would be most welcome. We are sewing clothing now for the Foundling Hospital, of course. I do not go there often, but you may like to meet some of the children. Knowing who your work benefits is encouraging, I find.”
“I would like that. Are you still active in any other charities?”
“Not as much as before Eddie was born. You know I meet with the rector and some of the ladies of the parish each month. Afterward, we all visit the poorest families in the area. You could join me on some calls.”
The ladies decided that Elizabeth and her aunt would deliver Jane to the Hurst townhouse the next morning and then go to the Foundling Hospital.
Darcy had been back at Pemberley for a fortnight, and he was still in an ill humor.
His Aunt Matlock had been happy to keep Georgiana with her until she was due at school at the end of April.
Though their indulgent aunt was as close to a mother as they had, his sister had been less happy to stay without him, but he would make it up to her.
He had accidentally even promised her a visit to the menagerie before he had thought it through.
No matter. He would recover from his misplaced affections before he was forced to make good on that promise.
His aunt and uncle should be able to bring his sister home from school in June or July, as the Parliament session was due to end around the same time.
He knew he was not making a strong case to his uncle that he was a responsible guardian, but he always ensured his sister was safe, and he would go to London if he must.
He expected he would have to take Georgiana back in October, but he would avoid town for as long as possible given his…
his shock. That was how he was describing it to himself.
He had been shocked; that was all. That was why he had said those terrible words.
That was why he had been…no, was still miserable.
Could a shock cause lingering dejection?
He had written Bingley a note of apology the night before leaving London, and he had asked his friend to extend his apology to the ladies, especially to Elizabeth.
He had not been himself, he said. He was terribly sorry, he said.
He had received Bingley’s reply a few days ago, and although he could not decipher every word, he could tell Bingley held no hard feelings.
He wanted to ensure Darcy was well. He had also indicated Miss Bingley hoped to meet him again before the Season ended.
But Bingley had said nothing of Elizabeth except that he had not seen her since their last morning together. Was she ill?
Yes, she was Elizabeth to him now. He had lost the battle against remembering to add “Miss” before her name in his thoughts.
He hoped the smudged bit about Miss Bennet in Bingley’s letter said she had been asked to speak to her cousin, but he could not know. Elizabeth was likely back by Miss Bingley’s side already, little pleasure as she derived from the company.
It seemed he was forgiven, then, and he was no longer shocked.
The news of Elizabeth’s low birth, dismal connections, and lack of wealth had well and truly set in.
He had to admit he was still a little surprised by the first. She was as refined as Miss Bingley—more so in many areas.
How had she managed to gain so many accomplishments?
Obviously, her relations had seen to her education and material comforts, even if they would not continue to support her or provide a dowry.
But…he had trouble reconciling the Elizabeth he knew with the picture he had seen in his imagination after Bingley revealed she was nothing but the daughter of a poor farmer, the result of an ill-advised elopement.
Her mother had been the daughter of a gentleman, but his estate had apparently been small.
Was small now. The estate where Elizabeth had grown up yielded an income too low to support her long-term, and it was entailed besides.
How had he allowed himself to develop feelings for her without first looking into her background?
Feelings? No. He had not…he could not have.
He had told himself over and over that he could not.
But what else was this pain in his chest?
And why would it not go away? He was not sleeping well, and he barely ate.
That was why he felt unwell. He would begin visiting the tenants on the morrow, as he had done little beyond meeting with his steward since his return to his estate.
Getting fresh air would help. He would certainly regain his appetite and his ability to sleep at night.
Over the next several weeks, Darcy not only visited his tenants but helped them rebuild roofs or add rooms. He helped in their fields and searched for fences and bridges to repair.
When he could find too little physical labor to occupy him, he rode his horse hard all over the estate.
Usually, he was too exhausted to think, and he finally began sleeping again.
Alas, when he awoke most mornings, he was frustrated to find his exertions had been temporary.
He had still dreamed of her. He still woke with her image in his mind and a burning in his heart.
The sound of her laughter in his memory and the softness of her skin, only briefly felt during their too-short dance, deep in his soul.
He would not think about her. He would set out on another day of grueling exercise.
For he knew that if he allowed himself to consciously think of her at all, he would have to admit to emotions he could not bear at present.
“Miss Bennet, is this the way?” Annie lifted the edge of the gown she was hemming. Elizabeth had been helping to teach the girls to care for their own clothing, employing useful, sturdy stitches.
“Excellent, Annie. These last three stitches are just right. Notice how these before were a bit too tight, but you have found the correct tension now. Keep going as you have with these last three, and your gown will be attractive as well as serviceable.”
Annie grinned and tucked her head to resume her sewing. Elizabeth guided several other girls in their efforts before excusing herself to read with the younger girls. After an hour with them, she would go to the west wing to read with the young boys.
It was nearing the end of the second month in which Elizabeth had made twice-weekly visits to the Foundling Hospital.
Dinah had taken Aunt’s place on Elizabeth’s visits after the first morning, and Matthew usually joined them.
All three had become familiar faces to the children.
Matthew remained with the boys, often working with them in the garden.
He had told Elizabeth and Dinah as they approached the carriage to return home one day of the admiration some of the boys had for him as a man with his own place in the world.
They had asked for every detail of life as a footman.
Dinah, too, was a model for what the girls could hope to become.
The Foundling Hospital accepted only babies under a year old, and most were less than two months old.
The infants were then sent to the country for four or five years before returning to begin their education and training for apprenticeships or positions as household servants when they were thirteen or fourteen.
Mrs. Legg, one of the live-in managers who instructed the children in reading and writing, had explained the system to Elizabeth on her second visit.