43. Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Three

November 16, 1812 Longbourn Elizabeth

T he first few days at Longbourn had proved uneventful except for Mrs. Bennet’s antics. After sobering, she had railed against Jane’s decision to evict her from the mistress’s rooms for hours. Mrs. Hill had finally laced her tea with the tiniest bit of laudanum, successfully putting Mrs. Bennet to sleep until the next day.

Unfortunately, her tirades resumed the following morning. The vile words that she spewed did not disparage Jane; rather, her vitriol continued to be directed at her least favorite child. Thus, Elizabeth found it necessary to hide from her mother’s view. This did not prove difficult, for Mrs. Bennet refused to come out of her new room. She mistakenly thought that by remaining above stairs that she punished her ‘ungrateful daughters.’ Instead, even Lydia felt relieved that their mother had not emerged.

“It is better that she is not here,” she said at dinner. “I never thought so before, but her complaints could give anyone a sour stomach.”

Darcy remained stoic throughout those first days. Mrs. Bennet’s attacks on his wife did nothing to make him like his mother-in-law. Additionally, Kitty and Lydia’s boisterous behavior discomposed him. Mary’s company was more to his tastes. They were both quiet and reflective, though Mary’s pompous behavior sometimes detracted from that.

In truth, all three sisters had undergone a material change since the last time Elizabeth had seen them. Now sixteen, Lydia had settled a little. She still bemoaned not being able to go to Brighton with Mrs. Forster, but she now spent some part of the day in a sensible manner. Upon questioning her, Lydia told Elizabeth that when the Darcys had departed, she had been left largely to herself.

“Mama retreated into melancholy,” she told Elizabeth. “Without the assurance that we would have a home, all she did was fret and cry. Mary and Kitty tried to help, but they were not terribly successful. And she did not want to see me.” Lydia sniffed. “She blamed me, said I ought to have been a boy. Mary and Kitty said she told them the same thing.

“And so, I tried reading some of Papa’s books. I still do not prefer the activity, but it alleviated some of my boredom. I wanted to go into Meryton too, but my sisters persuaded me not to.”

“I am proud of you, Lydia.” Elizabeth hugged her sister tightly.

“I do not like it,” Lydia confessed. “But I wanted Papa to be proud of me. He is not here, I know that. I never made him proud before he died. Do you think he sees me and is pleased now?”

Tears pricked Elizabeth’s eyes, and she nodded. “I believe he does. You are so grown up, Lydia. Slow down, I beg of you!”

Her sister chuckled and shook her head. “The rules and restrictions chafe, but I am learning. Kitty is too. At first, I felt angry that she abandoned me after Papa died. Now I understand that she simply mourns in her own way.”

Elizabeth related the conversation to Darcy later that evening as she brushed her hair before bed.

“I am pleased to see the improvement in my sisters,” she said. “What say you? Do you see a difference?”

“I do.” Darcy took the brush from her and set it down before pulling her to her feet. “They seem… calmer. At least Miss Lydia does.”

“Did you ever imagine that they would grow out of that trying stage?” She teased him, hoping to make him smile. His smiles had been too few since coming to Hertfordshire. Her ploy worked and the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Never,” he said seriously. “I supposed that Lydia and Kitty would run off with officers before they reached eighteen, and that Mary would end up a spinster.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Did you really?”

“Long ago, before I came to my senses, I did. Miss Bingley had strong opinions about it, I assure you. I thought mine aligned to hers until I was shown a better way. I might still have been that man if not for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I love you,” she said.

He stilled, his gaze boring into hers. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I do not pretend we will always agree, nor do I believe that you will be able to resist arranging things to your liking without consulting me. But we fit well together, and it has been quite some time now that I considered you the best gentleman I have ever known. I only realized recently that my regard had undergone a change from affection to love.”

Despite all her previous misgivings, she had grown to love him dearly, and she could only be pleased that her decision of prudence and pragmatism had led her to be so happy.

“I am so pleased to hear it.” Darcy spoke in a voice thick with emotion. He pulled her closer and kissed her ardently and then nuzzled her neck. “I love you, Elizabeth Darcy,” he growled. He kissed her again, trailing them from her neck to her lips and back again.

Elizabeth leaned into his embrace, gasping when he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. How glad she was to have married him.

The next day, Longbourn had callers. With the house still in mourning, visitors were few and so the younger girls were very excited when Mrs. Mildred Bingley called with her nephew.

“I wish to present my aunt to you all,” Bingley said cheerfully. His eyes roamed the room and Elizabeth saw how disappointed he looked when he realized Jane was not present.

“Yes, we would have called some time ago, but my arrival was delayed by several months.” Mrs. Bingley smiled a warm, genuine smile.

Elizabeth examined the lady. She was dressed fashionably and had the same cheerful disposition her nephew possessed. Standing a head over Elizabeth, Mrs. Bingley’s stature did nothing to intimidate. Miss Bingley had often used her superior height in an attempt to make Elizabeth feel small, but this lady did nothing of the sort.

Introductions complete, Mrs. Bingley sat with Elizabeth and her husband. Darcy struck up a conversation with her, leaving Elizabeth to speak with Bingley.

“I was under the impression that Mrs. Collins was in residence.” Bingley shifted nervously, tugging at his cravat.

“My sister is engaged with estate matters at the moment.” Indeed, Jane was sequestered with Mr. Brown in the study, while Sally was standing by for propriety. Her sister eagerly learned everything that the steward taught, absorbing the information to pass on to her son. Henry often stayed with his mother in a little cradle in the study, a constant reminder why she toiled away instead of spending time in leisurely pursuits.

“And Mrs. Bennet? I had hoped to introduce my aunt. They are of an age…” Bingley trailed off awkwardly.

“My mother is indisposed, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said kindly. He looked disappointed, and she sought to reassure him. “We will inform her of your visit, and I am certain she will be well when you come again.” And hopefully I can convince Jane to be present next time. He cannot court her, but that does not mean she cannot be in his company.

The rest of the call went well, and the Bingleys departed with a promise to come again in a few days.

Mrs. Bennet joined them for dinner and took her seat in the mistress’s chair. Jane did not acknowledge the slight, instead choosing to take her father’s position at the head of the table. Elizabeth silently cheered her sister for her actions as she took her old seat to the right of her father’s chair. Her husband sat next to her, surreptitiously placing a hand on her knee beneath the table.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bingley called today,” Kitty told their mother.

Mrs. Bennet shrieked. “He has married ? When did Mr. Bingley marry? To whom?”

“You mistake me, Mama,” Kitty hurried to add, but Mrs. Bennet would not be put off.

“You should have married him, Jane! Then I would still be mistress of Longbourn! And now that you are a widow with a child, he will not want you! Why would he? You have grown cruel and unfeeling, and I am ashamed of you. No, it would be better if he married Lydia. She is an obliging child, though she is not a son. Even Kitty or Mary would do, for you do not deserve him.”

“Mrs. Bingley is his aunt, Mother.” Mary’s firm, mild voice carried over their mother’s nonsensical wails, effectively silencing her.

“Oh. Well, that is good, then. Lydia, next time he visits, you must do your best to secure him.”

Lydia glanced nervously at Jane, whose lips were pinched in displeasure. The pain in her eyes was there for all to see, and Elizabeth’s heart went out to her sister.

“I do not think he would suit me, Mama,” Lydia mumbled.

“Suit you? Whatever does that mean? People do not need to suit to marry. Look at Mr. Darcy and that ungrateful girl. Two such opposites of temperament there never was and yet they are married! You will do as I say.”

“Madam, this talk is hardly appropriate. Cease your disparagements of my wife and your daughters! Show a little decorum. You are still in mourning, as are your daughters. Matrimony is not a proper topic for the dinner table in these circumstances.” Mr. Darcy’s intervention silenced the whole room, including Mrs. Bennet, who stared at him agape. Elizabeth wondered for a moment if her mother did not speak because she did not know how to respond, or if she fell silent because Mr. Darcy intimidated her. No matter. Either way she stopped her incessant insistences.

Mrs. Bennet did not speak for the rest of the meal, eyeing Mr. Darcy warily throughout. She did not join them in the parlor, choosing instead to go to bed. Nobody repined her absence.

“I promise, I have no interest in Mr. Bingley,” Lydia assured Jane after the meal.

“It makes no difference to me if you do, dear.” Jane patted Lydia’s hand.

Elizabeth wished to call out her sister’s lack of honesty, but said nothing, sharing a look with her husband instead. Darcy simply shrugged and returned to his book.

“But you are widowed now. Why not marry Mr. Bingley? Surely, he called to see you and not anyone else.” Lydia’s genuine curiosity prompted Elizabeth to continue listening to the conversation despite not being a part of it.

“If he did, then it is highly improper. I am in mourning for my husband and for my father. It would be wrong for me to be courted before that period of time is over.” Jane shook her head and rocked her son. Mrs. Moore had brought Henry down after the meal and each Bennet sister had taken their turn holding him until the little master of Longbourn cried out to be returned to his mother.

“Have you given up on him then?” Lydia asked. “I do not think you should. If Lizzy and Mr. Darcy can form an alliance, why not you and Mr. Bingley?”

“The circumstances are not the same.”

“But—”

“No, Lydia. I will not discuss this presently, and I beg you to leave it alone.” Jane’s weariness bled out in her words, and she rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I believe I shall retire,” she said, standing. Her son cooed in her arms, and she held him close. “I shall just take Henry upstairs and ready him for bed first.” Jane glided from the room, head held high and emotions in check.

“Do I need to speak with Bingley?” Her husband spoke quietly in her ear so none could overhear.

“I do not believe so,” she replied. “Not yet. He has not pressed the issue. It is best, I think, to let them resolve the matter between themselves, without any unnecessary interference on our part.”

“If that is what you think is best, I shall bow to your decision. But if it becomes necessary for me to speak to my friend, I beg you to tell me at once.”

“You did your part rectifying your error,” she reminded him.

“I did, but I will not see my sister hurt if he presses her before she is ready to receive his addresses.” He squeezed her hand gently.

“Do you think she will? Receive him, I mean.” Sometimes Elizabeth wondered if Jane had resolved to refuse any man who tried to win her heart.

“She will. If she loves him as you say she does, she will not be able to resist.”

She turned and looked at him skeptically. “And how do you know that?” she asked.

“Because I was once in a similar situation. I loved a woman, you see, and despite all my reservations and misgivings, despite prudence, honor, expectations, I was unable to resist her siren’s call.” He stared deeply into her eyes.

“Honestly, Lizzy, maybe you and Mr. Darcy ought to retire, too! He is looking at you rather intensely.” Lydia’s loud exclamation made Elizabeth jump, and she blushed in mortification.

Glancing nervously at her husband to see his reaction to her sister’s lack of tact, she knew surprise when he grinned mischievously. “You are quite right, Miss Lydia. I believe I am sufficiently exhausted. Shall we, Elizabeth?”

He stood and offered her his hand, which she took instantly. “Good night, Lydia, Kitty, Mary.” She, like Jane, left the room with her head held high, determined not to let her sister’s needling get to her. As they exited the room, Kitty and Lydia erupted in laughter, Mary’s half-hearted chastisements joining the chaos.

“I am dreadfully sorry about their teasing,” she said to Darcy as they climbed the stairs.

“They remind me of my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, in a way,” he chuckled.

“Do they? Does your cousin make such… inappropriate comments?” The mortification she felt could not be hers alone.

“He has a peculiar sense of humor, to be sure,” he confirmed. “I will admit that if your sister had said that in company, I would have shriveled from embarrassment. My disapproval would know no bounds, and my arrogance would prompt me to chastise her thoroughly.”

Elizabeth sensed the teasing in his voice and swatted him playfully. Darcy continued, “I speak in truth, at least as to the first part. Lydia’s remarks would have embarrassed me.”

“I am mortified as it is. I cannot imagine how I would feel, either. Perhaps we would have slithered off together, hiding from our guests and keeping only each other company.”

“Your company is all I desire.” They entered their room, and he closed the door behind them. “I am quite content to spend the rest of my days solely in your presence.”

“No! How would the ton manage without the great, wealthy Mr. Darcy in their midst?” She laughed and spun away from him as he tried to pull her into his arms.

“Minx. How shall I punish your impudence?” He reached for her again and Elizabeth let him catch her, going willingly into his embrace.

“I am sure you can think of something.” She wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled his head down until their lips met. Lost in his embrace, Elizabeth luxuriated in her husband’s love, marveling once again at her good fortune. Prudence, practicality, pragmatism, she mused. Who knew that they could lead to my happiness?