Chapter 16
“Richard, it is so good to see you—tell us everything that has happened since you were last here.” After seeing in the new year with his parents at Oakmont Hall, Richard Fitzwilliam had returned to Pembrook Cottage.
He was no longer in uniform and was warmly welcomed by his cousins. Darcy was excited to speak with him.
“After I left you, I travelled to London and sold my commission for more than I expected. I admit it is a relief knowing I shall never again be ordered into combat. I also made a hefty profit on some of those business investments you suggested, Darcy. I have decided to give being an estate owner a try and have been living at Willow Hall for more than a month. I have hired a new steward, and plans are in place to cultivate the land this spring and gradually renovate the house. Is Mrs. Horton still living nearby?”
“Yes, she is at Stockton Hall, but our sister has recently faced a serious disappointment,” Darcy replied.
“Has she been unwell?”
Darcy recounted what happened between Jane and Bingley, and the resulting pain Jane now suffered. He also told Richard of Bingley’s final letter. “My friend is licking his wounds in Scarborough for the foreseeable future.”
“I seem to recall Bingley having a new angel on his arm every week.” He paused before continuing. “And how is Mrs. Horton? If you both approve, I should like to see her again.”
“She is not ready to see anyone yet,” Elizabeth said as she frowned, “and has yet to visit us these past weeks. Give her time to recover from this heartbreak and perhaps then she may be willing to see you again.”
“Darcy, may I discuss some estate matters with you before I leave?”
“Of course. Excuse us, my love.”
“Elizabeth, I hope the day comes soon when you tell me I may call on your sister.”
* * *
“Such excellent news,” Elizabeth announced as she held a letter in her hand.
Fitzwilliam sat beside her at the breakfast table. “Whatever is it that has you smiling?”
“It is a note from Mrs. Hopkins. Remember she told us her widowed daughter was returning to live with her in Lambton?” Her husband waited for her to continue.
“She has been here for several months and has regularly attended the church in Lambton with her family. Well, to sum it up—Amelia, her daughter, met Mr. Butler. They started courting and now they are to be married!”
He scowled. “I wish them both well.”
“Why do you appear to be so dejected?” She could not understand her husband’s behaviour.
Fitzwilliam turned towards the young maid who stood nearby. “Leave us.” Once they were alone, he asked, “The day I found you at Mrs. Hopkins’s house, if I had not told you I wished you to stay, would you have married Mr. Butler?”
Elizabeth was stunned by her husband’s question—she opened her mouth to speak, but for a moment, she could not form any words.
“How. . .how can you ask me such a question? How can you have any doubt that I love you—that I am happily married to you?” She pushed her chair back and threw her napkin on the table.
Feeling light-headed from rising too quickly, she steadied herself on the back of her chair and forced herself to speak through her tears.
“I have not forgotten the many, many weeks you were cruel and indifferent to me while we were betrothed. You intentionally avoided seeing me and when we were together, you did not speak to me. If you had called off our engagement as I had every reason to expect, I would have gone to live with the Gardiners at the earliest opportunity.” She brushed away her tears, but they kept falling, she was so heartbroken at his assumption.
“Do you think I could have stayed in Lambton for any reason or anyone? Every time I saw you or heard your name, my heart would break a little more. I loved you then and I love you now.” She paused to compose herself.
“I married you, Fitzwilliam. I am having your baby. I never felt any particular affection for Mr. Butler. We encountered each other a few times and barely exchanged more than brief pleasantries. How can you even ask if I ever wished to marry anyone but you?” Elizabeth sobbed as she ran from the room.
* * *
Darcy hung his head and remained in his chair. What had he done? Their lives had been so harmonious, and now he had ruined everything by dredging up his past uncertainty.
He climbed the stairs and found her crying on the bed—a scene eerily reminiscent of their wedding night.
He pulled her to him and despite her resistance was able to hold her to his chest. “My dearest, I beg you to forgive me. Hearing his name brought back too many memories of my own foolishness and self-doubts. I am still ashamed to remember how I was unable to show you my love back then. During that time, I was afraid you would choose him and that I would be left alone.” Darcy took his handkerchief and wiped away his wife’s tears before speaking from his heart.
“Every day I thank G-d you never got on the mail coach and are here beside me. I. . .I was an empty shell of a man until you filled me with your love.” They both had tears in their eyes as he caressed her face.
“Mrs. Hopkins told me that married people may argue, but their love will help them forgive. I warn you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, if you ever doubt my love again, I shall leave. Do you not realize how much I love you and only you?”
“Yes, my dear wife, I shall remember your words whenever I hear his name again. Now, may we return to the dining room and have our breakfast?”
“I would prefer to remain precisely where I am.”
Darcy placed his hand on her belly. “Is it the baby?”
She shook her head. “A wise man once told me there are some things that are more important than food.” She gave him a look that left nothing to his imagination.
No more information was necessary for him to take the hint. “Why yes, madam! I suddenly have an urgent need to return to my bed.”
* * *
The Bennet sisters had been exchanging letters for more than a month.
Jane had reassured Elizabeth that she was well but needed more time on her own and declined every invitation to Pembrook Cottage.
For Elizabeth, it was not enough. “Fitzwilliam, I am so upset about her. I must see for myself that she is well.”
Darcy hesitated in his concern for her health on the wintery roads. “I shall accompany you to Stockton Hall but only if the weather permits. If the road is too bumpy, we shall turn back. We cannot risk your health or the babe’s.”
* * *
Stockton Hall
The Darcys set out for Stockton Hall on a cold sunny February morning. Within the carriage, the passengers were kept comfortable with warm bricks at their feet and fur lined blankets across their laps. Elizabeth rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “I hope Jane will be pleased to see us.”
“She will, my love, she will.”
Their trip was easy, and they were met with a warm reception when they arrived.
After they all shared tea and biscuits, Fitzwilliam smiled at her sister.
“I am glad to see you looking so well, Jane. We have missed your visits and anticipate you coming back soon. Pray excuse me, I must see to the horses and make sure the bricks are being reheated for our trip home. It is time the beautiful Bennet sisters had their privacy.”
“Darcy is a very considerate man. I hope you realize how lucky you are.”
“I am thankful every day for the man my husband is.” Elizabeth set down her teacup and studied her sister.
Jane was not well, and Elizabeth now had to find out what truly caused her to stay away from Pembrook Cottage.
“How are you really? The dark circles under your eyes tell me you are not sleeping. You know you cannot keep anything from me—I know you too well.”
Jane took a deep breath before responding.
“Since Mr. Bingley left me so suddenly, I have been questioning everything about my life, and it has kept me awake. I was not in love with Henry and, as you can imagine, the nights with him were the worst time. I tried to act the part of a loving wife, but I could never give myself completely to my husband. Do you know what I mean?” Elizabeth frowned.
“The only good thing that came out of that time was my baby—but even that was not meant to be.”
“Dearest, I can never express how much I regret suggesting you marry Henry before Papa died. If you had refused my plan, your life would have been so much better.”
“I do not blame you—I blame only myself. I believed if I was married, I could escape living at Longbourn in the aftermath of Papa’s death.
I could not bear the thought of listening to Mama’s lamentations all day, every day.
When I cannot sleep, I think about what my life would have been like if I had not married Henry. ”
“Where do those thoughts lead you?”
“I would doubtless have asked to go with you to London and perhaps I would have met someone there who I could love and marry.”
“Do you believe you were in love with Mr. Bingley?”
“I cannot say I was in love, but I believed I could come to love him and give him my whole heart. Every time I think of his desertion, my heart aches and. . .”
Elizabeth waited, but her sister said no more. “What else? Pray tell me. You will feel better if you say it aloud and you know I shall never judge you.”
“Every day since we were old enough to understand the meaning of her words, Mama said I was the most beautiful of her daughters and my looks would lead me to a great match. To be honest, it was nice to hear. Yet, I know I am so much more than a woman people judge solely on the way I look. It is interesting—as I get older, I no longer see the beautiful, young, innocent Jane Bennet in my looking glass.”
“You will always be my most beautiful sister—not because of what you see in your reflection but because of the remarkable person you are. You are always kind and even tempered—you do not form an opinion about people quickly or harshly. People do not judge you for being beautiful but for what is inside you.”