Mr. Darcy's Decision: A Sequel to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice Read online

  “She would show me less, I am convinced of it. But I sought only your gratification in intervening. And there at least I have satisfaction. Our dilemma now is not so great as you imagine, we must remain silent and hope that your mother’s predilection for Wickham as subject matter will fade.”

  “Indeed, she tires quickly of old news when there is new gossip to be had, time will pass and she will soon be occupied by fresh themes.”

  Darcy laughed.“Only a miraculous fresh theme could tear your mother from her favored narratives.”

  Elizabeth was quiet for a while before saying, “Would news of the conception of her first grandchild prove miracle enough to absorb her, do you think?”

  Darcy now stared into his wife’s eyes. “My loveliest girl, how long have you had this exquisite secret?” he asked quietly.

  “I am newly aware of it myself,” said Elizabeth, “but I am sure enough to date it from our first...” she paused and reddened before continuing,“...from our first tender moments.”

  That night when Fitzwilliam Darcy carried his wife to her bed-chamber he was lost for words but, such was the nature of their affection, they had no need of them as a means of expression.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Excuse me—for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment.”

  Love, and those who have the good fortune to be in it, will always be veiled in mystery. There is an indefinable air about two people engaged in the shared pursuit of mutual adoration.Thus were Elizabeth and Darcy viewed and the prospect of their having a secret that was to be kept between them was certain to increase the mystique. Darcy and Elizabeth’s intention to conceal their happy news was based on the rather groundless belief that fate may be adversely tempted by an untimely announcement. Although Elizabeth was sure of her condition, she was determined to have confirmation from a physician once signs of her confinement were definite enough to allow a firm diagnosis. Somehow, concealment lent a precious quality to their shared secret, and though she was often bold of character, she felt a little unnerved at the prospect of revealing the news publicly. Her husband’s concerns verged more to the practical; at once his wife was a fragile creature, a quite different being.

  Darcy implored her.“My limited understanding of such matters leads me to note how a strong and healthy disposition can become vulnerable. You are healthy in body, Elizabeth, and quite frighteningly boisterous of mind but now is a time for great care.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “We are not yet married six months and I believe, my dearest husband, that I know you better than you know yourself. In knowing you thus I am able, by some magical quality bestowed on me by matrimony, to exactly determine your words before you have even had the first thought of them yourself.”

  Darcy frowned; it was so like Elizabeth to jest, so much the part of her nature that defined her and made him love her.“You might wish to explain Elizabeth, what kind of madness it is you are speaking of?”

  Elizabeth reached for his hand and confided, “I imagined you would want to stop my walks when you learned my news. Pray, please do not worry unduly, I shall walk slower and not run at all, does that satisfy you?”

  He nodded and looked at his wife affectionately.“I ask only that you make your own rules on this matter, it will not do to force me to reprimand you.”

  “No running whatsoever, you have my word, Fitzwilliam,” she insisted.

  The delightful, undisclosed knowledge of a future heir served to increase Darcy’s attentiveness to Elizabeth and he was so often distracted by her and thoughts of their child as to induce concern in those in his employ who knew him well. It must be acknowledged that fatherhood, which will never demand the enormous veneration that motherhood has grasped as all her own, has an effect on men which often goes unnoticed. But there is a kind of value to it that merits observation. The man may not have the advantage of great claims of fortitude, bravery, or tolerance to all the pains and discomforts that accompany childbearing, but that is no fault of his own.The encumbrance of responsibility, provision, and education cannot be lightly borne. In preparation for fatherhood, a man might spend an excessive amount of time pondering the magnitude of the situation. Mr. Darcy, in this respect at least, was not wildly different from other men and his contemplations led him, eventually, to think of his late father and in turn his dear mother. Then with regretful inevitability his mother’s sister Lady Catherine was brought to mind.

  While the Bennets and the Gardiners were simultaneously welcomed at Pemberley, Darcy’s aunt’s misgivings and their mutual absence from each others’ lives had the effect of troubling his mind now that it was so taken up with family themes. He reflected that Lady Catherine’s heart could hardly be described as warm but he kept some measure of dutiful affection for her in his own for his memories of his mother, Lady Anne, were exceptionally fond. Raising the subject of his aunt with Elizabeth, he found her to be understanding, if naturally cautious. Love-induced instinct dictated that she always wished to act in a way that pleased him but on the subject of Lady Catherine, Elizabeth reserved the right be wary.

  “If your wish is for reconciliation, then I support you, although I feel your task will be a difficult one. Lady Catherine gave no response to the letter you sent soon after our marriage and a violent reaction to the one you sent announcing it. I cannot imagine that anything other than my removal could ever please her and as my intention is one of permanence where you are concerned I fear she must await my death before feeling truly happy,” said she with a smile.

  “Do not speak of such tragedy in jest, I cannot bear it! But I do wish to make amends with my aunt for the sake of my mother’s memory at least.”

  Elizabeth took the opportunity to learn more of Lady Anne Darcy, a woman who, after all, was responsible for many of the aspects of Pemberley that Elizabeth so adored. “Would Lady Anne have wished for a reunion, was that her character?”

  “I believe she would have wished it, she had a softer nature than her sister, she was more forgiving.”

  Elizabeth was direct.“Would she have forgiven the supposed sin that is your union with me? Lady Catherine did not hesitate to inform me that your mother hoped that you would be united with your cousin Anne as much as she did,” said Elizabeth with frustration. “I fear we are once again compelled to discuss the favorite wish of them both. With that in mind could your mother have forgiven you and in turn accepted me?”

  “A truly loving mother would forgive anything if the reward were to see her son happy.”

  Elizabeth was again touched by a certain softness in his gaze. “And I consider it a loving wife’s obligation to be equally supportive, shall you write to your aunt?” she asked.

  “I shall,” was all the answer he gave.

  “You would be best advised to withhold any greetings from me until her ladyship is better disposed to receive them.”

  Composition of a letter to his aunt was by no means a simple undertaking for Darcy. He wrote with consideration, with careful attention both to what should be said and to what should not. A good deal of time was spent mending his pen which Elizabeth noted with interest seemed not to have required restoration at all.

  When the letter was written and sent, both Darcy and Elizabeth were intrigued to know, if the recipient should reply, whether the nature of her response would be more congenial than her last correspondence.

  Elizabeth, who had so relished the thought of Jane’s visit, determined that she must spend as much time with her elder sister while she had the advantage of having her stay at Pemberley, though both passed so much of their time enthralled by their handsome husbands that they were barely aware of anything else.

  One morning the two young women sat together in the drawing room.There was a peaceful ambience to the room; Darcy had arranged that Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner, the latter
having returned early from London, should take the chance of fishing while the weather was to their advantage.Their wives took tea in the breakfast room and Caroline Bingley took charge of Kitty and Georgiana in the music room where her propensity to hold court and give instruction was used to best advantage. Darcy and Bingley, never better friends than now, walked the grounds and indulged in their newly favored sport of flattering each other on their good fortunes in love.The two sisters’ activities mirrored their husbands’ while their conversation was interspersed with both’s inherent, though occasional, desire to talk of Longbourn.

  “Oh Jane, it seems a whole lifetime has passed since then,” said Elizabeth on the subject of their former home.

  “Yet it is like yesterday that we two were bemoaning the probability of ending as old maids.”

  “The memories have great lucidity, but I was always more likely to end the spinster than you. You are still the prettiest of us all. Mama has always declared it, as I have done. I remember estimating that you were five times as pretty as the rest of us, but looking at you now, I think I was a bitter spirit to calculate your beauty with such economy.” Elizabeth took in the bloom of her sister’s complexion, the brightness of her eyes, and her hair’s luster. Oh, she had always known her sister to be fair but observed, with delight, that where matrimony often made other women plain it had enhanced Jane and she sat now before Elizabeth a polished, exquisite jewel-like reflection of her former self.“Oh Jane, mama was always right you see, you could not be so beautiful for nothing.”

  “Do you suppose she will think me so fair when she learns we intend to quit Netherfield?”

  “You have not told her?”

  “No, I think we need not trouble her until our plans are more definite. Charles corresponds regularly with his attorney about the purchase of an estate in Yorkshire. I understand there are some delays, but it is worth the waiting for it will bring us nearer to you by a good measure.”The thought of relative proximity, for both the sisters, was a comfort.

  “And removing yourself so far away from mama, is that your intention?”

  “No Lizzy,” said Jane with a smile,“it is but a consequence.”

  “I beg your pardon Jane, it is a happy consequence. There,” said Elizabeth,“I have said it for you! You always had a disinclination to speak ill of anyone or anything, I for one am not so mortified to be living at such a distance from Longbourn. Mama will miss you I daresay, but any grievances she may have will soon be forgot. She can be quick to rise but she is diverted with equal rapidity. No Jane, she will have no grounds to issue complaint. She has been very generously received at Netherfield by you, and she will savor every moment of telling all her friends of your grand new home when she has news of it.”

  “Oh yes, it does not bear thinking about, my consolation now is that you will be the object of her discourse and that at least will afford me a rest,” said Jane.

  Talk of their mother and Longbourn brought the young women to think of Lucas Lodge.

  “Poor Sir William tires of Mr. Collins’s company I believe, but he welcomes having Charlotte back home, Maria does too, for she is maturing rapidly and has little in common now with her younger brothers and sisters, sweet children though they are.” Jane reported this to her sister who readily heard the news of old acquaintances, being so far removed from them herself.

  “So, no living has come Mr. Collins’s way?”

  “It would appear not, I believe there was talk of a vacant parsonage at Brook Green in Milstead but it is known that Lady Catherine is a forceful influence in Kent and Charlotte is convinced she took offense at the idea of them residing less than ten miles away, so nothing ever came of the offer.”

  “I can well believe it, Lady Catherine does indeed have influential authority, I’ve seen her wield it over mere mortals many a time, but it had not occurred to me that she had the potency to prejudice God.”

  Jane smiled.“No but his servants, at least some of those in Kent, seem vulnerable to her power, Charlotte is inclined not to underestimate Lady Catherine’s control.”

  “Dear Charlotte,” said Lizzy. “I would very much like to see her, but I think that Mr. Collins will not wish to confront me, I am convinced that he blames me entirely for the loss of his patroness.”

  The girls laughed. “It would be no penalty to be deprived of Mr. Collins’s company,” Lizzy continued mischievously, “or his handsome features.”

  Jane stifled her laughter and said, “Poor Mr. Collins, he is ill-favored to be sure, but Charlotte seems well pleased with her marriage, and all goes smoothly I gather.”

  “I have no current news, I last saw them together at Hunsford, Charlotte seemed well enough, theirs is not a passionate union, but Charlotte errs more to the practical so she does not miss out.”

  “No, how could she miss a man’s tenderness if she has never known it or desired it?”

  “She could not,” said Elizabeth,“but for my part I know I could scarce stay alive now without it.” She kissed her sister on the forehead and they continued their conversation on the happy subject of the fortunate circumstances that had led both to fall in love in so short a space of each other, and to such men, those so worthy of their affections and so receptive to them. Elizabeth and Jane could not have dreamed of more. Neither, even in stretching their imaginative capabilities, could have foreseen the romanticism that defined what was now theirs. Like the girls they had once been, but were fast growing away from, they sat for a while and shared secrets of kisses, of little particulars of their husbands’ mannerisms and publicly unknown ways. Jane, with the assurance of confidence only a close sister could promise, was explicit in her depictions, diverting Elizabeth with the amusing, but little known fact that Charles Bingley always reacted to his wife’s first application of scent, with a sniff, then a sneeze and a curse.

  “Oh his poor dear face, Lizzy. It is never my intention to laugh at him, but I find him, with his nose red and eyes streaming, a most humorous sight and for some reason I am always reminded of our first meeting. When first acquainted with Charles I would never have imagined this human aspect.”

  “I understand you completely, Jane, our dreams of marriage are never colored by the things that make the reality of matrimony so much an adventure.”

  “You do not think it odd then that my endearment is increased by so mundane a thing as Charles’s sneezing.”

  “No, not at all,” said Elizabeth, “for all Fitzwilliam’s looks and attributes I think I savor most, the way he frowns before laughing, and he always does it, Jane. Oh, I laugh all the more then, it is so like him to attempt to resist the pleasure of mirth and so rewarding when he succumbs to it, I do not think I ever thought him capable of it before. Oh and one thing I favor more than the last,” said Elizabeth, enraptured,“he has perfected a look of disapproval which, for some inexplicable reason all my own, I find entirely seductive.”

  “Then we are enticed in such different ways, Lizzy. Can you imagine Charles adopting a look of disapproval?”

  “Oh no, it could not be achieved, or if it were it would never be taken seriously. He is too open of countenance, so absolutely in character as he appears, he has not my husband’s complications, but Jane, he is your perfect match, for you have none of mine.”

  The breakfast room, Mrs. Bennet observed, was quite the equal of the drawing room in comfort if not quite its match in grandeur. She was intent, now that Mrs. Gardiner was returned, on talking as if she had been at Pemberley all of her life. Mrs. Gardiner, if she had had any idea of joining in the conversation found that Mrs. Bennet was not about to allow it, she was ordered to keep quiet on account of having endured a journey and so late an arrival the previous day.

  “For you look fatigued, my dear, but I daresay parts of town do that to you. I do not care for the fuss and bother of it myself, though my presence there is often requested. But I see no occasion to be anywhere but the country, the air is so curative on my nerves, and the company sophisticated enou
gh for the highest taste. Besides, travel weakens me as you know.” Mrs. Bennet liked to imply that she was familiar with the fashionable parts of town but the reality was that she had rarely been out of Hertfordshire and her interest in town extended little beyond knowing where the best warehouses were.

  The English countryside in spring is made entirely of small patches of promise stitched together by nature’s hand. The definitions of the seasons, which may lose something of their clarity in a town, are most sharply emphasized in sympathetically landscaped surroundings. Pemberley, which boasted some of the finest grounds in the land, was such an environment and that morning, with the swallows bearing low over the lake, the spring sunshine and the abundance of fresh leaves on the trees, it made a pleasing vista. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner congratulated themselves on the happy chance of their being at Pemberley together unencumbered by social obligation and they engaged in easy conversation by the water’s edge. The latter’s sons and daughters occupied themselves with paper boats and running games.