Day 185 - 215
Dr. Tate called first thing in the morning, having received a note from Stephen the previous day, and pronounced Mrs. Darcy fever-free. He believed she would make a full recovery, but insisted on a slow return to her duties this time around. Elizabeth was impatient with her own weakness. Her body, it seemed, would not listen to her commands. She slept late, could eat only small quantities of food, had trouble concentrating on a task for any length of time, became tired after the shortest walks and required a rest every afternoon.
The focus on her physical state allowed her to push her grief to the side and no one but Stephen seemed to notice or at least no one else questioned her about it. As she recovered, for the second time, life at Pemberley returned to the normal she had begun to establish back in February after . . . however there were two significant differences. First, her own weakness was far more pronounced this time around. Second, she began to be plagued by nightmares. Although – not exactly nightmares. More like memories of her old life. Elizabeth would wake nearly every night and find herself in the rooms she had been dreaming about. Rooms she was still too grief-stricken to enter in the light of day. She would be in the ballroom after a dream about her first Christmas ball at Pemberley, in the library after a lovely dream of the many days spent by William's side reading in that very room. When she woke the sorrow at what she had lost would wash over her anew. These nighttime excursions certainly did not aid in her recovery process both robbing her of sleep and taxing her strength in ways she probably did not understand. Her days were a routine of household productivity and resting. Somehow the sleep she found during the day was free from the specters that haunted her nights, but still never seemed to compensate and the recovery of her body kept pace with that of her heart and spirit. They all seemed irretrievably damaged.
And then, one month after she awoke form her second fever, Lady Catherine arrived.
"Mistress," Mrs. Reynolds stood in the doorway of the study looking reluctant and apologetic.
"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds."
"Lady Catherine has arrived."
"Pardon me?" Elizabeth asked in some surprise. Lady Catherine's letters had begun just days after word of her niece and nephew's deaths had reached her. They were full of ostentatious words of sympathy and pedantic instruction for how Elizabeth was to grieve, to move forward, to hire help, to dispose of assets, to arrange her hair while in mourning. In short they explained how she was to do everything. The rather elegantly explained implication being Elizabeth would have no idea how to manage the smallest detail to the greatest decision involving the extensive Darcy holdings without the Darcy, or now Fitzwilliam, family instructing her how to do so. Stephen had written the first few responses encouraging her to believe her advice was treasured and followed but also putting off a visit, which Lady Catherine began hinting at after about a month, for a variety of reasons. Elizabeth had by now also written several times. Her letters were rather light on the gratitude for the condescending and tactless advice and heavy on the implication any visit must be delayed.
"She has just arrived and, Mistress . . ." Mrs. Reynolds hesitated clearly not wanting to upset Elizabeth further. Although she in many ways depended on it sometimes she bristled at the way in which everyone treated her with such obvious deference. As if she were too fragile to handle anything.
"What is it Mrs. Reynolds?" She asked more sharply than she intended.
"She has brought her lady's maid and enough luggage, Mistress, I believe she plans to stay for some time."
"No, that cannot be. She would never leave Rosings for any length of time."
"Sir Stephen inquired after her estate and was told she has made arrangements which would permit her to be away for as long as she was needed elsewhere."
"Elizabeth, I am so sorry." Stephen declared as he burst in to the room. "I have been attempting to convince our aunt that there is no need for a visit but I have never been very good at convincing her . . ."
"Stephen," Elizabeth said as she lay a reassuring hand on his arm "no one is very good at convincing Lady Catherine of anything she is not already convinced of. Come let us greet her properly. The drawing room, Mrs. Reynolds?" Elizabeth asked assuming this would be where the housekeeper would have brought her guest.
"She insisted on being shown to the front parlor."
"I will go, Elizabeth." Stephen offered, but Elizabeth did not want to be treated like the fragile person her body and heart sometimes insisted she was.
"No, I cannot go on pretending that dozens of rooms at Pemberley do no not exist, Stephen. Let us simply use this as an opportunity to open yet another room that has been closed these past months."
"Elizabeth, are you certain?" Stephen asked. "I would not wish for you to suffer another setback."
It was true. Only two days earlier a setback is indeed what had happened when she had suggested they forgo their work in the evening and retire to the music room. She truly had thought she was ready. Music had been something she enjoyed so much in her prior life she felt maybe she would try and play a bit for Stephen, for herself. They had been working so hard, even if she was only awake for five or six hours a day, they spent much of that time on correspondence and staff and estate matters. A little diversion would be soothing. But as soon as they had entered the large room for the first since before the fevers she had been overwhelmed by the memories. It was Georgiana's presence she felt most keenly, but she could almost see William on his favorite settee watching them with a light in his eye. She knew how much joy he derived from their close relationship and their music. Elizabeth had tried to push through the memories but their strength combined with her own physical weakness caused her to nearly faint. Stephen was understanding as always. And always encouraged her to grieve as she needed to and not avoid the feelings that overwhelmed her. She wished he would not press her on that as he had been doing lately. What he did not understand was that she was afraid if she let the grief in it would never leave and her body would not be able to handle it.
"I know and I thank you for your concern, but you have never been one to coddle me. Please do not start now." She said with a fond smile. Elizabeth knew that both he and Mrs. Reynolds walked a fine line with her these days. They expected and hoped for her to improve, pushing her at times as Dr. Tate indicated might be necessary to help her recovery. But they were also wary of anything that might induce another setback which included avoiding those parts of Pemberley that held strong memories of both William and Georgiana, during the day at least.
"I only want you to continue to recover."
Elizabeth smiled a sad smile knowing it was true, but not knowing if it was possible, if she could ever recover her old body and heart. Over the past month she had begun to wonder if because her heart was so weakened by the losses she had suffered perhaps her body would remain broken as well.
"I know, my dear Stephen, and I love you for that. Trust me that I can handle this." This was at least a partial truth.
"Very well, Elizabeth."
And so Elizabeth found herself walking, on Stephen's arm, in to the front parlor. A room she had avoided for very good reason. It held a hundred memories. It was where she had received callers several times a week whenever they were in residence at Pemberley. Georgiana by her side. William dropping in, especially in those early years, to be sure she was well, to see if she needed him. She always needed him, even when she was fine on her own. Elizabeth did not allow herself to be pulled in by the dozens o memories that assaulted her until she crossed the threshold and saw Lady Catherine sitting in the high wingback chair by the sweeping floor to ceiling window. It was then she recalled another time she greeted the same lady wearing the same black dress in the same room and she could not help but be drawn back to that moment in time.
"Lady Catherine." Elizabeth said. "I am so sorry for your loss. The Countess was a truly wonderful woman who will be much missed."
"Yes, yes. She was a good mother and tireless supporter of the Fitzwilliam family. If only she had had the good sense to pass in the winter. It is so inconvenient to begin mourning in the summer months. Black simply does not wear well with summer fashions."
Elizabeth who had become quite close to the Countess of Matlock before her illness could not help but feel the callousness and disrespect of these comments from her sister in law of nearly forty years. This was not to say they were wholly unexpected from her Ladyship. Before she was forced to think of a suitable reply the door opened behind them and Sir Stephenand his father entered in the midst of a loud disagreement.
"Father, you must know I would never ask this of mother and I can hardly think on it now. It was her wish and she did speak to me of it at the end as I have told you."
"Precisely, you spoke of it."
"No," Stephen interrupted. "She spoke to me and informed me what she had done."
Just then the Earl looked up and seemed to notice that they were not alone.
"Our apologies," he began before bowing to the ladies of the room. If the inclination of his body when he faced her was barely perceptible Elizabeth paid him no heed. The Earl was, in disposition, sentiments and attachment to rank exactly like his sister and Elizabeth consequently cared nothing for his good opinion beyond maintaining the family peace. "I had not realized this room was occupied."
"Your Lordship, I apologize for not greeting you upon your arrival at Pemberley," Elizabeth began. In truth, his visit had been unannounced and she had been attending to her usual tenant visits when she was informed that the Fitzwilliams along with Lady Catherine had descended upon their home. As the Countess had passed just two weeks prior the Darcys were somewhat surprised. "Please allow me to express to you my deepest sympathies at the loss of your wife."
He murmured a thank you before she expressed similar sentiments to Stephen who she knew was truly bereft at the loss of his mother whom he loved deeply. Indeed, he had hardly left her side these past two months while she lingered with a congestive malady the doctors could not treat. In contrast her husband had bounced from mistress to mistress barely keeping up the appearance of concern. But theirs had never been a marriage of affection or esteem and neither had wanted to pretend as such in the end although, Elizabeth suspected, for very different reasons.
"Is something amiss?" Darcy asked his cousin after the expressions of sympathy from his wife were expressed and acknowledged.
"Indeed something is amiss." The Earl practically shouted. "My younger son is attempting to carve out for himself a piece of his brother's inheritance."
"What is this?" Lady Catherine asked at the same time Darcy said "Lady Susan's portion?"
"He told you of his plans?" The earl asked. "Perhaps we should not be speaking of this in front of . . .' he trailed off not naming anyone but his eyes stayed on Elizabeth and of course who else would he mean? It had been the same since William first brought her to Matlock house in London and introduced her as Mrs. Darcy. The Countess and her daughter welcomed her with warmth and affection while the Count and viscount looked upon her as an interloper and were not shy about articulating their views. The Colonel had already left with his regiment for the continent by that time. Elizabeth told William, truthfully, she did not mind and could handle their hostility on the rare occasions she saw them, but he would not have it. After their first dinner together where their incivility bordered on rudeness Darcy politely requested an audience with his uncle and elder cousin. She never did learn what was said, but from that day forth each gentleman expressed his contempt for her solely through looks and the occasional wayward comment. When they stepped beyond that they were treated to the infamous Darcy temper.
"Watch yourself, Uncle. Elizabeth is my wife and she is mistress of this home. Moreover, she and I seem to have more intimate knowledge of this situation than you do so her perspective may prove invaluable." With that he transferred his gaze from the Count to her at which time his eyes went from cold and hard to soft and gentle in an instant. "Indeed, I always find it so."
"Yes, fine. She may stay." The Earl huffed. "Now tell me how is it you have knowledge of this plot."
"There is no plot." Stephen's voice held so much sadness Elizabeth could not help but go to him and place her hand on his arm. He looked close to his breaking point. He had just watched his beloved mother waste away and die and now his father, who had always undervalued and abused him, was accusing him of manipulating her for his own gain. It was too much. William shot her a look of concern she did not quite understand, his eyes trained on her hand which rested on the Stephen's arm. Seemingly unconsciously Stephen laid his hand on top of Elizabeth's as he hung his head. "Mother is gone and all you care about is propping up your dying estate." He turned accusing eyes on his father. "Perhaps if you spent a little less of your time and money on your mistresses, your card tables and your drinking you would be able to make the three estates and two thousand acres attached to the Fitzwilliam name something more than the reason the creditors are willing to continually extend your loans."
The Earl moved swiftly to his son and raised his hand as if to strike him. The Colonel neither backed away nor broke eye contact with his irate father. He merely moved Elizabeth so that she was behind him while the two men regarded each other coldly. The Earl, though now in his late fifties, was still an imposing figure. But his son was not intimidated and stared into his father's cold eyes waiting for either words or the blow he appeared inclined to deliver. Catherine's imperious voice seemed to make her brother remember himself.
"Robert, calm yourself. And Stephen do not use your grief as an excuse for incivility. We are not common." When she had stared down the two men sufficiently to cause them to turn from each other Lady Catherine continued. "Let us hear what Mr. and Mrs. Darcy know of this and then we can determine how best to proceed." She resumed her seat and with a regal nod of her head indicated to her nephew that he was to offer his knowledge at this time.
"You will recall Mrs. Darcy and I were in town last month and we called upon my Aunt." His uncle slumped down into a recliner and Darcy continued eying his cousin who retreated to the far end of the room to stare out the lone window. Elizabeth followed him and took the opportunity to lead him to a seat as well, keeping him as far from his father as possible. "We knew Aunt Susan was ill and so had not called as we did not want to burden her but she sent a note round asking us to come. It was one of her better days."
"She was sitting up in bed and taking some broth. We spoke first of general things. She inquired after Elizabeth's family and Georgiana who was in Bath at the time with Elizabeth's younger sisters. But it was not long before she told us there was a matter of import she wanted to discuss with us. She went on to relate, what you no doubt now know. That she intended to leave the remainder of her marriage portion which had not been allocated to Margaret to Stephen. She had met with her family solicitor the previous day to discuss the legalities of it and was assured it was permissible under the terms of your marriage contract."
"Why would she tell all of this to you?" There was the normal derision in his voice whenever the you in question included Elizabeth and although she normally avoided speaking to his Lordship she felt herself sufficiently involved in this particular situation both by the Countess' actions and her friendship with the Colonel to warrant the activity.
"The Countess indicated a concern that after she passed some people might question how her decision came about. She wanted us to bear witness as to why she did what she did."
"And why was that?" he asked in that same tone he reserved especially for her.
"When Colonel Fitzwilliam volunteered to serve under Lord Wellington on the Peninsula the Countess was beside herself with worry," although Elizabeth did not want to distress Stephen she felt she had to emphasize this point to capture the heart of the conversation that day, "she shared with us how she had despaired of his returning safely and even intimated that she had wanted to bestow a similar gift long before under other circumstances but she would not elaborate. Regardless, she was determined that because she had the legal right, felt she had the moral duty and certainly the heartfelt desire. She said she would do it this time regardless of any objections. Even yours." She concluded looking at Stephen.
"She told us she feared the reasons you denied her before would cause you to attempt to reject the bequest." Elizabeth paused hoping Stephen would explain the reasons his mother thought a soldier who had to risk life and limb constantly, who had no home or income but that which depended on the good will of his family would not desire an estate of his own. Moreover, why a loving and devoted son would not simply accept a generous gift to appease his mother who so clearly, and justifiably, worried for his safety. After a moment of silence the Earl spoke.
"I suppose you have spoken to the solicitor?" The Earl directed this question to Darcy.
"I went directly to his office after bringing Mrs. Darcy home that day. I wanted to be sure everything was as my Aunt wished." At his Uncle's incredulous look Darcy continued. "It seemed the least I could do. Someone needed to look out for her interests when she was in that condition, but it was unnecessary. The solicitor, whose firm has served her family for generations had done his job well and all was just as she said. There was not, there is not, a way to undo what she has done. Maplehurst is Stephen's."
The Earl looked both angry and defeated at this assessment. Lady Catherine looked, as she so often did, calculating and haughty.
Now as she stood in her black mourning gown Lady Catherine looked as Elizabeth had perhaps never seen her. Distraught and almost sympathetic.
"Elizabeth, dear." She said in her usual imperious tone but the condescension was softened as she held out her hands. After a moment of stunned silence Elizabeth went to her and took her silk gloved hands in her own.
"Lady Catherine."
"How you must be suffering, my dear. I know I never understood how my nephew cast aside his duty and right to marry from his own sphere and take the place in society that was his due as a result, but I never doubted your devotion to him. Indeed, how could you not be devoted to one who would deign to marry so beneath himself and elevate you as much as was possible given your origins."
It was an insulting speech, but Elizabeth heard buried in it sympathy and understanding. She heard that Lady Catherine knew she was suffering because her husband was gone and even if the imperious woman could not understand why William loved her she knew, indeed believed it was appropriate due to the difference in their station, that Elizabeth loved him dearly.
"Well I am here now and you need not concern yourself with anything, but mourning your grievous loss. I will take care of everything else."
"Your ladyship . . ." Stephen began, but Lady Catherine was not to be gainsaid.
"Stephen, enough. I am sure you did what you could, but you are a man. A single one at that. You cannot know what suffering Mrs. Darcy has endured." Elizabeth allowed herself to be led to the settee. "And although I am sure your own relations tried to offer what comfort they could as well they also do not know what responsibilities are yours now as mistress of this great estate and heiress of the Darcy legacy. No, it is I and I alone who know what it is to lose a beloved husband and be left with the burden of carrying on by one's self."
It briefly occurred to Elizabeth that Lady Catherine was indulging in some revisionist history in order to align their two pasts. By all reports her two- year marriage to Sir Lewis De Bourgh was one of convenience and the two barely tolerated one another until he died in a carriage accident. In addition, Elizabeth was more alone in a very real sense than Lady Catherine had been for Lady Catherine had had Anne while Elizabeth was and now and would forever be childless.
"Come, child you should not be up and around entertaining and managing the staff. You will leave that to me."
Elizabeth wondered at this extraordinary piece of sympathy from a woman who had at most tolerated her during the course of her marriage to her nephew. But she obeyed none the less. Mostly because it was easier. Although she would miss seeing Stephen for the rest of the day she was coward enough to take the opportunity to avoid Lady Catherine. She asked Mrs. Reynold to send her secretary to her sitting room and she was able to finish letters to all of her family, eat her meal and begin a new book before she began to worry once more why her husband's aunt was here at all.
Day 216
Elizabeth awoke from her sleep as was her custom of late grieved and hollow, but aware of the reality in which she now lived. Her walk that night had taken her to the room she had shared with William for the five years of their marriages. The memories had been so sweet. The pain so overwhelming. When she returned to her own room she was exhausted and broken. But her dreams brought her where her life never could again. Consequently, she desired to remain in her dreams when the day pressed onher to begin, but she used much of the strength she lacked during the day to push them away and face the tasks before her. Abigail helped her dress and informed her of Lady's Catherine's actions the day before.
"She settled herself in her usual rooms with enough trunks to last her two seasons. She and Sir Stephen dined together and she kept him up a while with all sorts of questions about you."
"How would you know what was discussed, Abigail?" Elizabeth teased, knowing her maid was a master at acquiring information from the rest of the staff.
"I could not say, mistress. But I could say that even though her ladyship would deem it entirely improper Sir Stephen awaits you in your sitting room."
"Thank you, Abigail." Elizabeth said as the maid finished her hair. "Then I suppose I can ask him what it is that her Ladyship was asking about you rather than relying on your third hand information."
"Yes, Mrs. Darcy." Abigail left with a smile.
Elizabeth entered her sitting room to find Stephen on the settee reading the paper.
"Stephen, let me look at you. Turn round." She said as he stood to greet her. "Well I don't see any marks left by the inquisition."
"So your spies have told you." He smiled.
"What does she want, Stephen? She was so strange yesterday. So kind and sympathetic I almost didn't recognize her."
"Indeed, but I do believe their deaths did . . . she did love them in her own way."
They both considered this in silence for a moment.
"Perhaps it is simply that she is realizing her family is important no matter how lowborn." Elizabeth half teased. "She has been at least somewhat less imperious since she lost Anne last year."
"She certainly appears to want to assist you."
"And of course control me. Let us not be naïve, but yes that is Lady Catherine's way of assisting."
"She was very concerned about your recovery. That is what she was asking about last night. Asking very minute questions about your improvement. What treatments we had tried. How long you are awake each day, how alert you are, how much you are able to manage the estate etc. She plans on speaking with Dr. Tate today when he comes. Is that acceptable?"
"I have no objection to her speaking to him, but I know he will not divulge any details about me to her Ladyship."
They discussed their aunt for a few more minutes then moved on to their more traditional subjects – the estate, staff, investments and Stephen's own estate. After an hour they went downstairs to greet her Ladyship together.
A night's rest had not changed Lady Catherine's aberrant behavior. She was still solicitous of Elizabeth's comfort. Ensuring that she had what her Ladyship determined was the most comfortable chair and insisting she eat what her Ladyship determined was the right type of food, which she had ordered prepared and the right amount. Elizabeth was at turns amused and exasperated by her Ladyship's actions.
What was more exasperating and less amusing was Lady Catherine's insistence that Elizabeth rest more and leave household matters herself. This was not something she was willing to do but she found herself unwilling to hurt a woman who seemed to be truly trying to help. And so she sought to give her Ladyship the appearance of what she wanted while instructing her staff to come to her with any concerns. She did see this as an opportunity for something else that seemed rather necessary than desirable.