45. Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Five

November 27, 1812 Longbourn Elizabeth

“ C ome on, it is not much farther!” Elizabeth tugged on Darcy’s hand, climbing the last stretch of the path before they reached the top of Oakham Mount.

“ You are not carrying a basket,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Did you really walk this path daily when you lived here?”

She nodded. “I did. And I still walk it now that I have returned. Come on, the prospect is worth the climb."

They crested the summit, and Elizabeth wrapped her arm through his. “You were at Netherfield Park for two months and never rode this way?”

He shook his head. “You forget, my love, that I was keen on avoiding a certain lady with fine eyes at the time, a lady I knew to be a great walker.”

She laughed delightedly. “Yes, I trust the residents of Netherfield were suitably impressed by my excellent constitution.” She gestured to a semi-flat area and spread out the rug she had carried out. She sat down, patting a spot beside her. Pulling food from the basket, she arranged their impromptu picnic and served her husband a plate.

It was a momentous day, for she had felt the quickening just that morning. There had been a few flutters, but nothing she could confidently say was her child until today at breakfast. The sensation, so foreign, brought a smile to her face.

Her husband suspected; she felt certain, but gentleman that he was, he had not asked. Elizabeth had a tall torso, and so she had only a small bulge that spoke of her coming child. That sign had not appeared until just a few weeks ago.

“What has you in such happy spirits today?” he asked. “Shall I attribute it to the appearance of Sir Andrew and Lady de Bourgh?”

She chuckled. “Though I have missed Charlotte dearly, my happiness is not for her.” She took his hand, laying it gently against her stomach. “I am with child, Fitzwilliam.”

He looked at her, wonder and awe on his countenance. “Can you be certain?” he breathed.

“I felt our child move this morning. I believe we can welcome our little one in February. And I confess, now that I am certain, I likely felt the quickening some time ago.”

He let out a cry of delight and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her passionately. “I cannot contain my joy! First, I gain your hand, then your heart, and now this. ” His hands moved to her stomach, resting gently on the slight swell of her abdomen.

“We planned to spend Christmas here…” she said slowly. In truth, Elizabeth wished to remain with Jane until she had settled, but if her husband wished to return to Pemberley, she would not object.

“Yes, and that has not changed. We are needed here.” His arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. The sentiment comforted her, and she snuggled a little closer.

“Will it be a sore trial, remaining at Longbourn for the nonce?” she asked.

“Your younger sisters have improved upon better acquaintance. It is the constant attacks from your mother that irritate me.” He growled the last bit, and she reveled in his affront on her behalf.

“We might move to Netherfield,” she ventured. “Mr. Bingley has offered.”

“I should like to stay at Longbourn until after Christmas. By then, mourning will be over, and it would be more appropriate for us to move there.” His logic made sense, and Elizabeth nodded. “Jane does not need my assistance as often as she did, either.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, gazing out across the empty fields. “Let us write to Georgiana and ask her to come.” Elizabeth turned her head so that she could see her husband’s face. He smiled and replied eagerly.

“That would please me greatly,” he said.“I believe your younger sisters would not object to the idea, either.”

“Longbourn has plenty of rooms. Our entertainment will be of a more subdued nature given that we are still in mourning, but Georgiana ought to be with us, regardless. She is our family.” Besides, Elizabeth missed her new sister.

“Then we shall do so immediately upon our return.” He kissed her again, and they both turned to their forgotten victuals, discarded on the rug since Elizabeth told her husband their good news.

They enjoyed the solitude for another hour before packing their basket and folding their rug. The leisurely return to Longbourn gave them ample opportunity to speak at length about their child, and when they had returned, Elizabeth went directly to her writing box and composed a letter to Georgiana.

My dear sister,

How I miss you! It has been more than a month since we were last in company and though I have my sisters, I do not feel complete without you here! I do hope you have been keeping yourself occupied with your studies and your music.

Though I have suspected for some time that I am with child, I did not feel confident in my suspicions until this morning. And so it is with great pleasure that I inform you that come February, you will be an aunt! Your brother is naturally excited to be a father and expressed his profuse enthusiasm upon hearing the news.

We are not to return to Pemberley for Christmas. Jane is still adjusting and relies heavily on our assistance. Instead, we wish you to join us here. This missive will be sent express, and we hope that you and Mrs. Annesley will journey to Hertfordshire within a week of receiving it. Travel to and from Derbyshire is treacherous in the winter and we want your journey concluded before the worst of it.

I shall have the very best chambers prepared for you both, and though our celebrations will be somewhat quieter than the holiday usually calls for, we shall make it the best Christmas any of us have had in a very long time.

Do hurry, for I and my sisters long to see you! And we must not forget dear Fitzwilliam. I am certain he has missed you, too.

Yours in affection,

Elizabeth

Elizabeth sanded and sealed the letter before going in search of a footman. “See this is sent express immediately,” she requested kindly, giving the missive into Martin’s hands. After that had been completed, she went in search of Jane.

Her sister had settled herself in the large chair behind the desk in their father’s former study. Elizabeth still thought of this room and all that it contained as belonging to Mr. Bennet, and every time she entered, memories assailed her. She said as much to Jane as she settled in a chair across the desk.

“You were the only daughter readily welcomed into our father’s domain. He suffered my presence because I did not speak much, but it was your company he truly favored.” Jane said this dispassionately, and Elizabeth wondered if her sister was as uncaring as she pretended to be.

“I know Papa was less than perfect,” she whispered. “I have often wondered how different life would have been had he granted every child the same attention he bestowed upon me.” She ran her finger along the beveled edge of the desk as she had done so many times before.

“There are hundreds of pounds worth of rare books in here; did you know?” Jane gestured to the full shelves and the stacks of books around the room.

“I knew Papa was a collector,” Elizabeth confessed. “I am unaware what his books might be worth.”

“Your husband has perused the shelves extensively. He has offered to purchase much of the collection, and I have accepted. He said I could tell you, so I am not spoiling any surprise he might have planned.” Jane smiled, her eyes twinkling. “You have told him about your happy news?”“Earlier today.” Elizabeth beamed. “I shall say it now before you have a chance to rub it in that you were right. You and Charlotte both. I am very happy.”

Jane’s smile looked a little sad. “I am very glad.”

“You will have your happiness,” Elizabeth vowed. “It cannot be any other way.”

“There is still over a half a year before I leave my mourning clothes behind. You will be able to cast them off in January, but I must wait.” She turned back to her ledger, picking up her pen and writing a few things down. Elizabeth watched her silently.

After a long moment, she said, “Who would judge you if you married before a year ended?”

Jane looked up, her gaze alarmed. “It would not be right!” she protested immediately, shaking her head.

“Jane, you are a widowed mother with an infant son trying to run an estate and care for an infant. Who would judge you for marrying a man to lighten your burden?” Elizabeth reached out and took the pen. She set it aside and grasped her sister’s hand. “You need not decide at this very moment, but please, give it some thought. Those whose opinions matter most would not condemn you. In their contrariness, they may even praise your good sense.”

Jane smiled weakly at the jest and squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “I must finish the accounts,” she murmured, clearly distracted by her thoughts.

“I shall leave you then.” Elizabeth stood and left the room, closing the door behind her.

The house was strangely quiet, and she looked in all the public rooms before venturing above stairs to find companionship. Lydia and Kitty’s rooms were empty, as was Mary’s, and after a short while, she found them in the master’s suite, perched upon their father’s bed.

“Look at this, Lizzy!” Lydia cried. “Papa’s journals. Did you know he wrote every day?”

“I did not.” The chastisement that had been upon her lips died away, and curiosity drove her to join her sisters. “Does Jane know you are in here?” she asked gently.

“No.” Kitty sounded a little guilty. She thrust a journal at Elizabeth. “Read this. It is from when Papa courted Mama.”

Elizabeth took the book and read the page before her.

Miss Francis Gardiner has captured my interest. She is lovely as a rose, and her vivaciousness is the opposite of my sedate personality. Her desire for company is also a stark contrast to my need for quiet, and yet I find myself inexplicably attracted to her. Miss Gardiner is fair of face and of figure. I seek her out whenever we are in company. Though she is not as intelligent as I might wish, she seems sensible and knows how to keep house.

“This does not sound like Mama at all.” She chuckled and handed the book back to Kitty.

“She must have been very different in her younger years,” Mary mused. “The strain of bearing five daughters and no son must have altered her somehow.”

“You might be correct.” Elizabeth took the book Lydia held out.

“This one is from when you were born.” Lydia smiled and nodded encouragingly at her.

Elizabeth read slowly, anxious to know what her father’s thoughts had been on the day of her birth.

Fanny has given birth to another girl. She is a lively thing. I could hear her cries all the way in my study. The child has a full head of hair. Quite a change from the day Jane came into this world. I have asked that we name her Elizabeth, for my mother and Fanny agreed. I can sense my wife’s disappointed hopes, but she is still young. We have time to sire a son. Meanwhile, my eldest will have a playmate. Little Elizabeth is a beauty, just like Jane. I shall have a difficult time when they come out. How could any man be good enough for my daughters?

“Are there more that you would like me to read?” Elizabeth looked inquiringly at her sisters.

“There are entries about all of us,” Lydia said. “Look, here is one about me from a few months before he died.”

Elizabeth took this new book and read.

Lydia is a mystery to me. How can a child who is so intelligent be so set on flirtations and officers? Lydia is a problem solver, though she does not know it. I have watched her work out solutions to many a conundrum, though she hardly knows what she is doing. I have tried to encourage her interest in more serious matters in the past, but I confess that I have little interest in securing her attention now. My energy must be focused elsewhere.

She flipped back toward the front of the book, locating passages about Kitty and Mary, too. When she had finished, she put the book on the bed. Her sister’s followed suit with their own volumes.

“I never thought Papa saw me as anything but one of the silliest girls in England,” Kitty confessed. “He admired my drawing talent. Did you see that entry, Lizzy? I only wish he had told me that himself.”

“Yes, I read that.” Elizabeth wondered why their father had not made his sentiments known to his daughters. Things might have been so different if he had voiced his approval more frequently than his disdain.

“He wished to send me to London for the masters,” Mary whispered. “He says that he kept putting it off. Do you think his disdain for my playing at the Netherfield Ball held a different meaning than I supposed?”

“Mayhap he felt some guilt for his actions,” Elizabeth suggested. “If these books tell us anything, it is that he did love us in his way.”

“It would not be right to hold on to our negative feelings. Papa has passed on to the next life. We must forgive him.” They nodded, agreeing with Mary’s sage advice.

“Let us put these away.” Elizabeth gathered the journals into a stack and moved toward the shelf she assumed they had come from. “And it would be best if you did not seek amusement here without Jane’s permission.” She mock-scowled at them, winking. “Next time you must include your older sisters.”

The four left the room, each introspective in their own way. Elizabeth noted the time. Luncheon would soon be served. Her stomach growled and she chuckled as her child kicked. The noise must have startled him… or her. She walked down the stairs toward the dining room, hoping to find her husband there. She would have to ask him where he had gone off to after their return.