Chapter 13

13

C harlie made it through another night, though it had not been easy for any of them. Elizabeth stroked his brow as she teased his lips with the milk-soaked cloth. Mrs. Price, Cook, and Mrs. Carter made a valiant effort for the lad. So did Fitzwilliam. His timing was impeccable. When Elizabeth was at her most despondent, he appeared.

The dawn began to peek through the window when he came into the nursery. He spread out a white linen cloth embroidered with the initial “D” and took out a small brush and scissors from his pocket. When he knelt by Charlie’s cradle, a tear trailed down her cheek. Snipping Charlie’s spiky hair, he set the downy softness gently on the cloth and folded the treasure. Then he gathered a tiny lock from Clara and did the same, tucking it into a different pocket.

Leaning over Charlie’s cradle, he whispered to her, “I spoke with Georgiana last evening at Matlock House. She offered to stitch their names on the linen so we can have their hair mounted and framed for the nursery at Pemberley if you do not mind? ”

“Mind?” She asked through her tears. “Thank you for thinking of this. Truly, I thank you.”

“Elizabeth, we need to talk.” Calling for Mrs. Carter to take her place, he escorted her to their sitting room.

The doctor had already been to examine Jane’s son that morning. He said nothing to her. What had he told Fitzwilliam?

Fear consumed her.

“Please read this.” He held out a letter to her.

She tried to make sense of the scribbles, but exhaustion, worry, and tears rendered her incapable. Handing him the paper, she wrapped her arms protectively around her middle. “Please read it.” Trying to be brave, she straightened her spine.

Sitting alongside her, he began.

Dear Son,

How happy I am to address you thus. If you would rather I call you Mr. Darcy, do write and let me know so I can alter my thinking before it becomes a habit.Bingley, although he married my Jane, never seemed to pay any attention to any of us but her, so I never quite knew how he might respond if I said the word aloud. But you…

“From Mama?” Elizabeth interrupted him, stunned and so grateful it was not horrible news from the physician. She still could hardly believe that she felt the need to embrace him. Barely holding herself back, she relaxed her arms, though she pressed them to her side.

He nodded.

But you are such a solid sort of man that I cannot help but think that now that you have my Lizzy and two grandchildren in your care, I can only think of you as family.

As to the purpose of this letter, I am writing to tell you that the Hursts, along with Lord and Lady Armstrong, arrived at Netherfield Park late on the day you married. According to Hill, who had it firsthand from Mrs. Nicholls, there was plenty of yelling and fit-throwing when they discovered the nursery empty. The housekeeper and the rest of the servants were threatened with everything from being let go with no references to bodily harm by Lord Armstrong himself. Mrs. Hurst took it upon herself to sift through my Jane’s belongings, taking every piece of her jewelry, including those she received prior to her marriage. Lady Armstrong removed nothing more than a book from Jane’s bedside table and avoided her husband most of the day. Lord Armstrong had the footmen pack all the ledgers and journals left in Bingley’s office into boxes. Mr. Hurst had the cellar emptied. Then, they commandeered Bingley’s carriage that he bought for Jane and had it loaded with Bingley’s belongings before demanding rooms and a meal for the night.

Hill’s report from Maude Nicholls was that Lord Armstrong and Mr. Hurst discussed their situation well into the night. Never have I been as pleased at having Longbourn’s housekeeper listen at the door because, according to her, the men will do all they can to take Charlie away from you, ruining you and Lizzy at the same time. They did not depart Netherfield until the afternoon of the next day. Strangely, Lady Armstrong kept delaying the departure to the point that her husband said he would leave her behind unless she got in the carriage.

I caution you, Son. These people are, according to the servants, entirely self-serving.They did nothing to mourn my Jane, nor did they mourn the death of their own brother. A part of me wanted to call down every sort of evil upon them, but the other part of me felt sadness that they were bereft of human feeling. How much they miss!

There! I have completed my first report. Son, I beg you to write back to me and tell me how wonderful my daughter and grandchildren are, how beautiful your house in London is, and how finely you are living.

Your new mother from Meryton,

Mrs. Francine M Bennet

Listening to him read was just like being in Mama’s presence in the drawing room at Longbourn. Mama’s mind flitted from subject to subject as she made observations about anything and everything. How like her to attach herself to Fitzwilliam. She took note of his kindness when he asked her to write the report. Her reward was familiarity.

“Do you mind?”

Unexpectedly, the corners of his mouth lifted. “I have already replied that I would send my best carriage for your whole family to come to Darcy House. Even more than your mother and father need to see their grandchildren, they need to see them.”

Could this be the same man Elizabeth met at the Meryton assembly who found fault with everyone, particularly her and her family?

Elizabeth covered her eyes as tears flowed through her fingers. Crying until she hiccupped, she turned into him when he pulled her close.

The words he murmured into her hair penetrated her overwrought emotions.

“I should have asked you before I issued the invitation. I know that now. I did not think the presence of your family would distress you so.”

She wiped her face. “Distress me? On the contrary, you have pleased me greatly, Fitzwilliam. Thank you so very, very much.” She tilted her head. “You are aware that Papa and Mama will have Mary, Kitty, and Lydia with them as well?

“And why not?” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “They all need to know Bingley and Jane’s children.”

In her excitement she did something so unexpected that it shocked her…and him. Leaning forward, she cupped his face, closed her eyes, and touched her lips to his. As quickly, she drew away, her eyes flying wide open, her lips mouthing his name.

Jumping from the sofa, she backed away and then hurried to the nursery, her fingers at her lips. Good heavens, what had she done?

The need to grab his wife, hold her close, and repeat her kiss burned his palms. They were married after all.

Rubbing his fingers over his eyes, he rang for Mrs. Price to prepare rooms for the arrival of the Bennets. In truth, he was not looking forward to them being in the way. Aunt Helen Fitzwilliam and Georgiana insisted that Elizabeth be brought to Matlock House for inspection, no doubt. His uncle and cousin would stop by at all hours with information about Lord Armstrong. His attorneys would do the same. Added to these interruptions, his daily business regarding his properties weighed upon him. He had yet to finalize his plans for spring planting at Pemberley. Repairs to the roof were still underway. How would he cope with five more disparate individuals in his house?

Of course, the answer was Elizabeth. Her calm presence soothed him. Her kiss inflamed him. Every hour increased his appreciation for his wife.

Unlike her mother, she did not suffer an attack of nerves when under trial. Instead, she forged ahead, doing what was needed without complaint. Purple shadows under her eyes spoke of her lack of sleep. In truth, Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Price had those same shadows. Yet, neither the wet nurse nor the housekeeper looked gaunt. He knew Elizabeth slept little and ate less. Thus, he had invited Mrs. Bennet to London.

His butler interrupted his introspection.

“Sir, a message was delivered from Lord Malcolm Armstrong. His servant is downstairs awaiting your reply.”

Darcy broke the seal. Lord Armstrong expected Darcy to meet him at Whites at eleven o’clock today.

This demand was not unexpected.

“Tell the messenger that I am unavailable. I will let him know when we can meet.”

With a tip of his head, the butler said, “Very well, sir.”

The skirmish has begun.

Rubbing his hands together, he was eager to learn Lord Armstrong’s terms. Yet Darcy was not eager enough to spend his time away from the nursery while little Charlie struggled.

Demands, no doubt. Threats, most likely. Posturing, absolutely. If he guessed correctly, Armstrong would have Darcy investigated as thoroughly as Darcy investigated him. This would take time. It would take money.

Was the baron short of funds? Was it Bingley’s wealth that stirred him to fight? Had something happened that affected his ability to father a child after his first wife died? For a certainty, Caroline Armstrong was rarely in poor health. She was not unattractive. Was she unwilling? Darcy shuddered at the thought.

Whatever the motive, Darcy could be equally stubborn. Would that be enough? Lord, but he hoped so for Elizabeth’s sake, for the children’s sake, and his.