Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation (82 page)

He began to beg. “Allow me to ride to London between the weddings and obtain a special license. Perhaps we could have a double ceremony with Charles and Jane. The time is perfect for us to declare our love in front of family and friends. I am desperate for you to return to Pemberley with me. Please, please accept me.”

Elizabeth was unprepared for his outburst. There had been a paucity of passion in his correspondence lately, and she had begun to think perhaps he had cooled in his desire for her. She thought they had the entire month to rebuild the intimacy they had developed and to find a solution for their love. She was so overcome that she took her hand back. The pain in his eyes, told her she must explain. What she did not realize, was that he ceased listening to her words at that gesture.

Darcy despaired at that moment that she would never agree. He did not hear as she explained her need for more time or that her parents needed her. Who would help them cope with Lydia’s departure for the Americas? Who would read to her father? Who would calm her mother with Jane gone?

They parted soon after, and she was only able to thrust the package at him and tell him she had bought him a book for his birthday, as he started his descent. She wished him a joyous day, but he did not even look back.

That night, Will sought the company of Georgiana. He told her what had happened. This time there were no tears. If anything he was struggling to keep his anger from showing. It was rooted in frustration—he did not know how to win her and his greatest fear was that he never would find the key. He summed up his feelings for his sister with, “I poured out my heart to her, and she gave me a book.”

Elizabeth was unsure what had happened and spent a sleepless night trying to reconcile her feelings in the hopes of being able to answer his request with a positive reply. She was unsuccessful. The next day was the first wedding, and from that moment on, the month flew by with hardly a moment for reflection. They were cordial in the other’s presence, but there was no evidence of his avowed relentless pursuit.

More of her time was spent with the children. She became the official entertainer of those under twelve at the wedding festivities. Bethany and Lewis were joined by Sian. David, Marianne and Susan were often part of her audience, as were Charlotte’s three—William, Lawrence, and her goddaughter Betsy. The best seat in the house to the smaller ones was Lizzy’s lap. Lewis thought it his right, but he was forced to share with Sian and Betsy.

For the first time, Elizabeth saw a bit of Edmund in Bethany. Not his character, but his appearance. She was much taller than Lizzy had been at that age, and her facial features were becoming strikingly different. She had what she had heard referred to by Lady Catherine, the Fitzwilliam nose. An aristocratic nose… straight and perfectly shaped… not too large and not too small. Elizabeth wondered what her adult teeth would be like. Would she have that dazzling smile? And if she did, would she use it for good or evil? A few had remarked that her hair and eyes reminded them of Elizabeth, but in general, those comments did not happen as often as she had feared.

The end of September brought the last wedding, and the guests began their departures for London, Bath and Derbyshire. Will had tried to smile and express confidence they would see each other soon, but she could tell his heart was not in the sentiment.

The children sobbed at the thought of leaving her. Lewis clung to her skirts, and both begged her to return with them to Derbyshire. By the time of their departure, all were emotionally spent. Their waving good bye had been frenetic. Darcy, on the other hand, turned his face to the opposite window so she and his children would not see his grief.

56 THE PURSUIT OF LOVE IN A COLD CLIMATE IN THE TIME OF MEASLES

Longbourn was strangely silent after the frantic pace leading up to the weddings. Jane and Charles had gone to Bath for their honeymoon. Sir Walter had told them of all the most fashionable places. Charles promised Jane that once Napoleon was defeated, he would take her to Grasse, to observe them making perfume, and then on to the Cote d’Azur. Becky had gone directly to Derbyshire after Jane’s wedding, with stops at Inns along the way. Sian was with Mr Darcy, and would stay at Pemberley for the first month of the Hughes’ marriage. Kitty and John had spent the weeks waiting to attend the other marriages in their new home, and then they also had travelled to Derbyshire so she could sketch the peaks and get the oft-promised peek at Pemberley.

Elizabeth made the most of her last remaining time with Lydia. Sarah seemed a good friend for her sister. She was glad she would have female companionship while Colonel Bledsoe was busy with his military obligations. Lydia seemed changed. Of course, she was married, but somehow the maturity she displayed and a certain seriousness she had developed seemed sudden in its appearance. What she noticed was not at all sadness, because Lydia showed a great deal of enthusiasm for embarking on her new life. Elizabeth also observed that Sally often seemed to want to speak of something in Lizzy’s presence, but Lydia would look at her in such a way that caused her to cease.

Will was relieved to be back in Derbyshire. A familiar daily routine would dull the pain of failure. As he was resettling into his room and his man was unpacking for him, he realized he had never opened the package containing the book she had given him for his birthday.

He sat in his favourite reading chair by the fire to open it. It was a book of poetry he had never read but had heard much about—
Songs of Innocence and of Experience
by William Blake. It appeared to be a first edition, and was illustrated by the poet. A single sheet of paper fell from inside the volume.

Dearest Will,

I give you this book on the day of your birth, nine and twenty years ago. I give it to you with the hope that soon we will read it together. I know I am slow in making my commitment to you, but I too have had a personal struggle these past six years. Many of the demons, or were they angels, with which I have wrestled are here within Blake’s poetry. I have fought to maintain my faith in almost everything… God, goodness, but most of all, love.

You are correct, I was a joyous being when we met, and there are descriptions that fit that Lizzy in almost every poem in the ‘Songs of Innocence.’ Now I am filled with too much experience, and I have wandered through the wasteland called my life, blindly searching for answers. This is one of the conundrums I ponder:

     
‘When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?’

Did God make Edmund? Did he send him to me as a test? Did I pass? Did I fail? I doubt I will ever discover the answers to all these weighty questions, but at least Blake has let me know that I am not the only being who wonders.

I wanted to share this source of contentment. I know Blake has the reputation of being radical, and perhaps even heretical, but it will help you to understand who I am.

Someday I will give you a list of everything about you I love—but not today. My mother is not wanting me in Brighton, but she is insisting I go to the modiste’s for a fitting.

I have time for a few items on my list, and that will have to hold you until I can relate the many others, hopefully in person.

I love that you are a good man… in fact the best of men.

And now for a couple of my shallow sentiments:

From the front, I love your dimples, but from the back I love your broad shoulders and the way your body narrows at the waist and hips. I have no idea the significance of this feeling, but when I watch you walk away… I feel flushed. Even the fifteen year-old Lizzy felt that way, the night I met you at the theatre.

I love you, Will Darcy, and I am sure the moment will come when I am ready to give you my heart. Once you have it, you must promise, you will never let it go.

Your Elizabeth

The knowledge that he had, once again, acted precipitously threatened to bring on another episode of ‘wallowing in self-pity.’ He persuaded himself those emotions were only slightly better than giving in to the useless tears that were begging to be released. That he had squandered practically a whole month in her company not doing what he had promised—relentlessly pursuing her—was the most glaring of his numerous character deficiencies She threw one little barb, as she had promised she would, and he crumbled. Richard was right… one shot and he surrendered.

For days following his discovery, he thought of writing her but feared he would say the wrong words. As far back as Lydia’s wedding there had been a distance growing between them. Ironically, this new barrier had been erected with Edmund’s death. The opposite should have been the case. Why had he thought it so important to keep the truth from her? But in his lack of confidence, he broke life’s eleventh commandment—he sat idly by waiting for the right sentiment that would move them forward to come to him.

Two days before they were all to journey to Southampton for Lydia and Sarah’s departure, her sister asked to speak with Lizzy alone. The weather was fine, so they walked to Oakham Mount. Once they were away from the house, Lydia began. “Lizzy, what I am about to speak of, I was cautioned by Mr Darcy never to reveal to you. I know Bethany is your daughter. I found out when Colonel Fitzwilliam explained the meaning of some words I heard the Viscount speak. He too cautioned me never to tell.” Lydia stopped and grasped her sister’s hands. “Lord Wolfbridge told me he had given you a bastard, and that you had undressed yourself to protect your sisters. I heard those words just before I murdered him with your silver dagger.”

Lizzy looked at her sister in horror, but that emotion was soon replaced by the tug of a hesitant smile, and perhaps even a look of contentment and closure. Lydia was leaving England in two days time. The law would not be able to reach her. She knew it was wrong to condone murder, but somehow, even before Lydia told her about Sally, she knew his execution was justice served.

The sisters spent hours sitting on the hill overlooking the beauty of Hertfordshire and talking with each other. Having seen Miss Bledsoe’s need to unburden her soul, Lizzy asked permission to speak with her. “I believe I could help her accept any feelings of guilt she might have with regards her behaviour. One of my biggest regrets is that I did not tell Papa what had happened to me for so many years.”

Lydia expressed her doubt. “Why would she feel guilty? She did not act recklessly and murder someone.”

“Please, I believe she might be harbouring feelings of remorse for following Wickham and entering that house with him. Had she not done so, you would not have stabbed him.”

“I suppose, once again, I was only thinking of myself. Help her if you are able.”

“Lydia, we are not talking about losing Kitty’s favourite ribbon. Your act might have been impulsive, but you were also very brave. None of the three of us—or Colonel Fitzwilliam or Mr Darcy for that matter—should feel guilty.”

Before the two left the mount, Lydia brought up one more topic she had been contemplating. “Lizzy, I think the love Mr Darcy feels for you is very great. He bought the tickets for Sarah and me, and he added five thousand pounds to the ten thousand pound dowry you set aside for me. Papa and Uncle Gardiner told me of the arrangements.”

Lydia took her sister’s hands again as she added, “I have heard rumours that he has asked you to marry him several times, and you have yet to accept. Lizzy, Lord Wolfbridge is dead. Bethany is your daughter, and Lewis adores you. Mr Darcy’s face when he speaks of you often overflows with love, and then seems to become clouded with sadness. It is time to grasp the moment and let your new life start.”

“Lydia, I am afraid to physically be a wife to him.”

“Oh, Lizzy, I only had a few nights with Ronald, but I know that whatever you experienced at the hands of Lord Wolfbridge has nothing to do with what two people who love each other do. I found making love wonderful. The closeness, the sharing, is beyond my powers to describe. That is what you will be doing… making love. The Viscount was making hate. The two have nothing in common.”