Chapter 74

74

T he late summer sun held the landscape in a shimmering thrall when Elizabeth walked through the great glazed doors from the drawing room onto the west terrace and the cool shade.

When she reached the balustrade, she leaned on it, seeing her aunt and uncle sitting in the dappled shade of the great oak tree. They were watching their children playing under yet another tree canopy, their nurses watchfully nearby.

Charlotte was walking with Georgiana down by the edge of the lake; and she knew that with the arrival later this afternoon of Jane and Mr. Bingley, along with William's cousin Richard, their little house party would then be complete.

She sensed William's approach almost before she heard him, and certainly before his hands rested on her shoulders, and his scent of sage and spice warmed her. "My love. Thank you for joining me."

"You know I cannot stay away from you, dearest." He dropped a kiss on her hair. "Are you feeling we should join our guests?"

She shook her head. "I think they are all happily occupied, William. I would much rather stay here in the shade with you."

"You are still tired," he said, looking concerned. "It has been too many days, Elizabeth. What has tired you so?"

She would not tell him, not just yet. It was too soon to be certain. She smiled slightly. She was glad her aunt had happened to be here, though, and she had been able to be reassured by her, and gladdened by her aunt's delight.

"I am not so much tired as enervated by the sun, William. If I stay in the shade, it will be better."

He looked rather uncertain. "Our friends are not too much for you?"

"Not at all! Your Mrs. Reynolds is a redoubtable character. I hardly have to do a thing." Elizabeth leaned back against him, confident of his steadfast support. "I am happy you agreed with me that Charlotte could remain here as my friend. I would not want her to be a paid companion. And I think it was such a good idea of yours that you pay Sir William so that he still pays her pin money, and she does not feel obliged to us, or unable to avoid drawing on her savings."

"It is so little, Elizabeth. You know I would do far more for you than that." He gazed out over the lawns. "And she is good for Georgiana, too. It means you are not troubled for too many hours at the piano with your new sister each day."

"I am happy that Charlotte knows she may remain here as long as she wishes." Elizabeth sighed, hoping the nausea would soon dissipate. Perhaps she might feel better if she could nibble something.

"Might you ask for tea and some of those ginger biscuits to be served, William? I am in the mood for a little something."

He shook his head. "I am surprised at the change in your tastes. You never liked ginger that much before. But now Mrs. Reynolds knows, she always ensures there is a plate full of them."

Elizabeth watched him affectionately as he walked back inside to ring the bell. She wasn't sure how long she could keep the secret, but when he knew he would be very protective of her — even more so than he was now.

Perhaps he wouldn't notice other changes in her. After all, he had not yet noticed that his cousin visited Pemberley often; not for William's company, but for Charlotte's. It was as well that Lady Matlock had inherited a small estate from her mother, which she had passed onto her son provided he resigned his commission; and the fact it was not far from Pemberley and Charlotte had made his choice inevitable.

She sighed in happiness. Her life was wrapped around in love and music. She had nothing left to wish for. It mattered not that her father would not allow her name to be spoken at Longbourn, it mattered not that William was supporting her youngest sisters at school, and Mary in London. She smiled; her sister had remained at Gracechurch Street — with a companion — for the duration of Aunt Gardiner's visit here. The pull of a music master was more than Mary wished to give up.

Perhaps a secret was not such a good thing after all. Elizabeth cast up her accounts again early the next morning, not even sure she would be able to nibble a ginger biscuit.

William was beside her, his hand protectively on her shoulder, despite her having run for her bathing room and shut the door. He would have heard. They shared her bed at night; he did not go through to his chamber until it was time to prepare for the day. And this morning, her uneasy stomach had not waited until she was alone.

"Elizabeth!" His voice was pained. "Please let me call the physician. With this tiredness and now being ill … I could not bear it if something was wrong and you did not tell me."

She swallowed, not yet ready to leave the security of the bathing room. But this was too precious to share in here — her bedroom would be more appropriate. In a few minutes, perhaps.

Secrets between them were not good. She had discovered that before, and it was only because of the love of this man that she had survived that shattering discovery.

She shook her head slightly. "He could not help just now, William. When I feel a little better, I will explain."

Ten minutes later, she went back to her bedchamber, her legs rather wobbly. William sat on the edge of the bed beside her, his eyes dark with concern.

"Is this the first morning you have been unwell, Elizabeth? Have I been leaving you alone to go riding when you needed me?"

She laid her hand tiredly on his arm. "It is nothing like that, my love. It is important that we, particularly, must have no secrets between us, so although I know I should not tell you, I will …" she tugged at his hand, pulling him towards her. "The heir to Pemberley is making his presence felt. This is very normal, my love, and will pass soon enough."

She watched as understanding suffused his features and delight took over.

"Elizabeth!" He raised her hand to his lips and smothered it with kisses. "Oh, my darling! How do you know? How long … when is the babe due? Oh how can I assist you, how can I help? You will need the physician …"

"No." Elizabeth imbued the word with as much feeling as she could. "Now, come and lie beside me, and I will answer your questions. But please, do not get your hopes too high, and particularly do not tell anyone . It is far too soon to be assured that nothing will go wrong. We must be patient and wait another month or more. Or better still, wait until the quickening." She felt anxious. "Would you rather I hadn't told you, my love? I just did not want you to be concerned that I was concealing something from you again."

"I am happy you decided to tell me, dearest Elizabeth. As you say, there must be nothing now that comes between us." He drew her into his arms.

"My beloved wife. You have given me the greatest gift of trust. There is nothing I will not give you, nothing in this world."

Elizabeth huffed a laugh. "Well, there is something I will need, but the need will be some months from now."

"Tell me," he commanded, his hand pushing back her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She shivered with pleasure.

"Well, my love, later on I may need longer arms, if you can procure them, so I can still reach the keys of the new piano you bought me."

"Elizabeth!" He smothered his shout of laughter by burying his head on her bosom, and his words were muffled. "I love you to the ends of the earth and back, my teasing, beloved wife!"