The morning Darcy was to leave for London, Georgiana sought Elizabeth out in the library to say goodbye.
"Oh, but you cannot be leaving already!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I thought you would surely stay a few days!"
"I will accompany my brother to London and send for the girls," she said firmly, as though trying to convince herself. "He will need me to play the part of hostess there," she added. "It must be done."
"Must it?" Elizabeth asked with genuine curiosity.
Georgiana looked at her for a long moment without answering. "My brother," she began slowly, "could have chosen to live an idle life. He was born with sufficient wealth to allow him nothing but languid days and dissolute nights with barely a notch in the family fortune." Elizabeth was taken aback at her friend's words, and even more by her impersonal tone. "Indeed, I daresay that no more or less was expected of him, except perhaps to marry well and breed. He chose to grow the estate and buy new properties. He chose to acquire manufacturing interests. He chose to stand for office. Indeed, there are some denizens of the Ton who whisper that he is no true gentleman because he gets his hands dirty and actually manages his own businesses." She shrugged. "I do not believe he cares one whit what they think anymore, but he nonetheless has to move in society in order to succeed in his endeavors. He can do as he likes, so long as he hosts a certain number of dinners, drinks twice weekly at the club, and keeps a box at the opera."
"Catherine tried her best to support him in this, and it was certainly the role she was born to play," Georgiana said flatly . "But she did not play it well or gladly, and it cost him."
"Why are you telling me this?" Elizabeth managed to ask. Georgiana gave her an unsettlingly hard look.
"Because you need to know. This is who he is." She paused, the lines between her eyebrows softening. "Indeed, I believe it was knowing you and truly, losing you, that changed him." She looked remorseful when she saw Elizabeth go pale and still. "Do not mistake me, Lizzy," she said with a gentle urgency. "He is all intensity and hard work and always was. But you made him want to be a better man, one who succeeded on his own merits and not as a result of his inheritance. He wanted to be worthy of you, even if he could not have you. My God, he is even a Whig, if you can believe it."
"You give me far too much credit," Elizabeth said through clenched teeth, her book clattering to the floor as she rose from her chair. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room before Georgiana could utter another word.
Believing that Georgiana would likely try to follow her, Elizabeth fled to the one place she knew their conversation could not continue: the nursery. She paused outside the door, hating the hot feeling in her throat and her shaking hands, especially as she was not entirely sure why she was so upset. Elizabeth knuckled the angry moisture from her eyes and listened to the nurse as she told the three smallest boys a story. The two eldest were at their lessons.
"Mama!" Thomas crowed holding out his arms to her as she walked into the room. "Nurse is telling us the story of King Arthur!"
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise at the young woman, who looked modestly at her hands clasped in her lap.
"You know the story?" Elizabeth asked, her interest in this novelty all but displacing her previous disquiet.
"I read it, mum, when I was in school."
"You attended school?"
"Yes, mum. It was a charity school in Colchester."
"I see," Elizabeth said. "That is not the sort of book one would expect to be taught in a charity school." Thomas rustled impatiently on her lap and little Henry began rolling a wheeled toy horse noisily around in circles.
The young woman did not lift her eyes, her face bright red with embarrassment. She offered no explanation.
"How many years of schooling had you at the charity school?" Elizabeth asked gently.
"Until I was 15, mum, and then I came here to work for Mrs. Bingley last year."
"Mama," Thomas said urgently, placing his small hand on her cheek to corral her attention. "Please, we want to hear the story!" His cousins echoed him, begging to know what would happen to the boy king now that he had met the sorcerer, Merlin.
The girl continued to blush, but her eyes twinkled merrily at the boys. Glancing at Elizabeth for permission, she continued her story.
Jane soon found her sister and informed her that the Darcys were about to depart.
"Come, children," Elizabeth said impulsively, "let us bid goodbye to our guests. Nurse may continue her story later."
She had a momentary pang of guilt that she was hiding behind the children, but the boys were already racing each other down the hall.
Darcy, who was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, swept Thomas and William both up into his arms when they reached him. Henry tugged at the hem of his coat, shouting "me, too! Me, too!" Darcy laughed at him and kneeled down, squeezing all three boys and growling like a bear.
"Goodbye, Uncle!" Thomas crowed. "When will you come back?" Darcy smiled delightedly at the child.
"Absolutely as soon as I am able, you may be sure of that. Now, you take care of your mother for me, will you?"
Thomas nodded solemnly, clutching a hand in Elizabeth's skirts. "You always ask me that, Uncle," he said.
Darcy rose, saying "That is because I always want you to." His smile dropped as he caught a look at Elizabeth's face, however.
"Boys," she said, "run along outside and say goodbye to Miss Darcy, too." Jane needed no such direction to understand that Elizabeth wanted a moment alone with Darcy.
Elizabeth led Darcy into one of the small side parlors where they could speak in private.
"What is it?" Darcy asked. "What is wrong?"
Elizabeth looked at him, unsure of what to say. "Georgiana and I had an...unsettling conversation," she finally noted. "I said I would never doubt you again, and I will not, but..."
He did not let her finish her thought, sweeping her instead into a bruising kiss, which left her gasping and shaking.
"I love you, Elizabeth." He rasped in a low voice, his breath hot against her ear. "Nothing matters to me more. Nothing." He held her shoulders tightly and gave her a light shake. "Tell me you understand," he demanded, looking intently into her eyes, "Tell me. Please," he added hastily.
She cupped a hand against his cheek, eyes wet with unshed tears. "Fitzwilliam," she breathed, running a fingertip along his lips. He shuddered lightly and closed his eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him slowly, her lips nimble against his.
He opened his eyes and saw that she was smiling sadly at him.
"What on Earth did she say to you?" he asked, exasperated.
"I believe she only intends to protect us both," Elizabeth responded. "Do not be angry with her."
His eyes flashed, and the thin press of Lord Darcy's lips suggested that he would be very angry, indeed, with his sister.
"Promise me," she said firmly, her own eyes flashing back at him, "that you will not be angry with her." She set her jaw in a hard line, fixing him with a stern look. For a moment, they just glared at each other, and then he softened his expression with a sigh.
"I do not suppose it would do me any good to refuse you."
"It would not," she agreed, rewarding him with a kiss. "When will you be back?"
"The weekend after next, I hope" he responded, his thumb rubbing over her cheek. "It is almost Christmas, you know. I'm afraid it is too late for me to plan anything special, but would you come to Pemberley if I invite your father and your sisters? Are you able to travel?"
She smiled shyly at him. "Yes, of course. That would be lovely, Fitzwilliam. Are you certain, though? I would not wish my family to take a toll on your family cheer."
"You could only add to our enjoyment. Besides," he added, with a gleam in his eye, "that will give me an excuse to banish Georgiana back to the country without getting angry with her. She can prepare the house for guests."
"Wicked man!"
"Very," he agreed, holding her tightly to him. He nibbled at her ear and kissed lightly along her neck before stepping away. He lifted her hand and slid his lips along her palm.
"I will convey your farewells to Georgiana," he said with a quirk at the corner of his mouth. He turned suddenly and left the room without looking back, so he would not have to see the bleak look on Elizabeth's face.
The week after he left started with the first light snow of the season, mud freezing along the carriage ruts. Elizabeth stayed indoors, writing letters to Kitty and Lydia to let them know of the invitation to Pemberley. She hesitated before writing to Lydia, but decided she could not very well leave her out. If George were home, that would be another matter, of course. She had written to General Wellington of him, but it would likely take some time to get a response, so he was safely out of the country for the time being.
By Wednesday, her restlessness drove her from the house to visit Longbourn, despite the weather. She reasoned it was time to check in on her father and Mary, and she needed to tell them about Christmas, in any case. The carriage ground slowly through the ice and snow, but otherwise the trip was uneventful.
Her father was delighted to see her. Elizabeth kissed him on the cheek, before he could spirit Thomas away to the library, relieved that he appeared well and in good spirits.
After hanging up her heavy cloak, she went to sit with Mary in the front parlor. "Thank you, Harriet," Mary said to the young girl who soon brought them tea. "You may take a biscuit for yourself before you go, and you may knock on the library door to ask if Thomas would ike to play with the other children."
"Yes, my lady," the little girl said so softly Elizabeth had to strain to hear.
"Now Harriet, we have spoken of this. You are to call me Aunt or Aunt Mary, remember?" The girl dipped her head nervously, eying the plate of biscuits. "Go on now; take your biscuit and run along."
The child snatched a biscuit and ran from the room.
"Is that Lydia's daughter?" Elizabeth asked curiously. "I thought they went back to Bath?"
"Lydia went back, yes," Mary said, sipping her tea. "But she left the children here."
Elizabeth was stunned. "She left them? Whatever for? What was her explanation?"
"She did not give me a reason, just asked me to look after them." Mary shrugged. "I do not mind. It will give me something to do, now that I am no longer caring for Mama, and Papa likes having children in the house. I am finding Harriet to be quite helpful; she appears to be accustomed to doing household chores and looks after her brother and sister quite well."
Elizabeth looked at Mary thoughtfully for a moment. "That is not what I would have expected from a child of Lydia's," Elizabeth commented."
"No," Mary agreed. "And they do not say much, though the boy is quite a mischief maker. Takes after his father, I suppose."
"Where are her other children?" Elizabeth inquired. "I am not even certain how many she has."
"She did not say where they are, and quite frankly, I am not sure how many she has, either."
Elizabeth frowned. "Perhaps we should pay her a visit."
Mary nodded. "Perhaps we should. Will you still be able to travel after Christmas?"
Elizabeth nodded absently. "We have all been invited to Pemberley Hall for Christmas, by the way. Let us talk to her then and see what she says."
By the following week, however, Elizabeth still had no reply from Lydia. Kitty had responded immediately that she, her husband, and her baby daughter would be delighted to join them, if the Darcys were to extend such an invitation, which they did formally soon after.
Georgiana included a long letter with the invitation, which Elizabeth set aside to read later. She was not sure she wanted to know what Georgiana had to say to her.
As Jane came into the library, Elizabeth held out the card. "The invitation to Christmas at Pemberley," she said.
"How lovely!" Jane exclaimed at the fine calligraphy. "That is most kind of them," she added. "Though I rather think the rest of us are just the excuse to get you to Pemberley."
"I will not be baited," Elizabeth said loftily at her sister's laughter.
"Sister," Elizabeth said, remembering a disturbance she had heard the night before, "I could have sworn I heard a carriage arrive in the middle of the night last night. Is anything amiss?"
Jane looked at her evenly. "Perhaps you dreamed it, Lizzy."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the somewhat evasive response. That was not like Jane. "I do not think so," she responded, and then grimaced, passing her hand over her abdomen. "I am afraid I do not sleep well right now. It is difficult to get comfortable, and the baby seems to delight in kicking me whenever I try to lie down."
Jane smiled. "But you otherwise feel well? I never slept much in the last months, either."
She recognized that her sister was changing the subject, but let the matter drop. She clearly did not wish to discuss their midnight visitor, whoever it was.
Elizabeth found out for herself who it was a few nights later. An aching back kept her awake, so she decided to finally read Georgiana's letter. It was, as she expected, an abject apology. Georgiana begged her friend's forgiveness, but also asserted that she meant well. She offered no explanation, though, other than a promise that she would explain herself further when she saw Elizabeth at Christmas, if Elizabeth so desired. The rest of the letter described Georgiana's plans for their holiday.
Feeling vexed, Elizabeth donned a dressing gown and descended to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She was surprised to see someone else was awake, the glow of candles emanating from the dining room.
She walked quietly into the room, only to see an unfamiliar blond woman seated at the table, with her back to the door. She looked at the stranger in confusion and then gasped as she realized who it was: Lady Caroline "Charlotte" Douglas, who turned her head when she heard Elizabeth's gasp.
Elizabeth's surprise at seeing Lady Douglas was nothing compared to the shock she received when she saw the face of her nemesis. Lady Douglas had two black eyes, and her nose appeared to be broken. Her bottom lip was split. She turned away from Elizabeth quickly.
"You may as well come in," she said. "Or at least have the grace to close your mouth and stop staring."
"Caroline...I mean Charlotte... Lady Douglas. What happened? Are you all right?"
"Well obviously, I am not all right," she snapped sharply, and then sighed tiredly. "And just call me Caroline."
Elizabeth stood awkwardly on the threshold, unsure of what to say. "I could not sleep," she finally blurted out. "I thought a cup of tea might help."
Caroline gestured wearily toward the kitchen, where a pot of water was kept warm on the stove. "Be my guest."
Elizabeth moved about the kitchen, preparing the water and filling a small pot with tea. She found some bread left from dinner and several slices of cheese and put them on a plate, along with apples from the winter barrel.
Elizabeth had not expected Caroline to still be there by the time the tea was ready, but she did not appear to have moved.
"I thought you might be hungry," Elizabeth said, pouring Caroline and herself a cup of tea. Caroline looked at her disdainfully, but she took the tea and eventually cut herself a piece of cheese.
"When did you arrive?" Elizabeth finally asked.
"Three nights ago," Caroline answered. Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. There had been a late night arrival, after all, Elizabeth thought.
"I have been keeping to my room," she commented. "The only person permitted to see me, other than Charles and your sister, has been the doctor. I am tired of staring at the same four walls, however, and I thought there was little danger of encountering anyone at this time of the night," she noted accusingly.
They both sipped at their tea for a few moments before Elizabeth finally could no longer restrain her curiosity. "What happened?"
Caroline looked at her without expression. "What makes you think it is any business of yours?"
"I suppose it is not."
"What do you think happened, silly woman?" Caroline said bitterly. "I was beaten within an inch of my life."
"But who would do such a thing?" Elizabeth cried.
"My dear husband, of course," she spat the word husband out with disgust.
Elizabeth stared at her aghast, which prompted a short, sharp laugh from Caroline.
"Yes, sweet little Lizzy, such things do happen. Sir John does as he will with his property, as he so frequently reminds me."
"He has no right..." Elizabeth began.
"He has every right. Are you really so naive?"
Elizabeth looked at her in silence for a few minutes.
"I am so sorry, Caroline."
"Oh, please. Spare me your pity. I am sure nothing makes you happier than to see me humiliated and degraded."
"That is not true," Elizabeth said firmly. "I would never wish such grief on anyone."
"No, of course you would not. Because you are an angel and your life is perfect. Rich, handsome men just fall at your feet, begging to know what they can do to make you happy, don't they? You have probably never known a day of grief in your life."
Their eyes met then, Elizabeth's full of raw emotion. Caroline at least had the grace to look down at her teacup with a muttered "Sorry."
The two women sat in silence for some time. Finally, Caroline cleared her throat and spoke softly.
"I knew Richard as a friend of Charles, back before you met him. He was always kind to me. That was not as important to me then, but I remember him."
There was a long silence again.
"How did he die?"
Elizabeth told her, sparing her none of the details. Caroline nodded, managing to convey in the nod an unsentimental comprehension, which was, oddly, more comforting than tears often were.
The quiet overtook them again, this time more companionable than uncomfortable.
"We are all going to Pemberley for Christmas," Elizabeth ventured. "You should come with us."
Caroline looked at her for a long time.
"I think not."
"What will you do then? Stay here all alone?"
Caroline snorted. "Of course not. I shall go home."
"But you cannot!" Elizabeth cried. "From the look of it, he nearly killed you! You must come with us, if only for your own safety." When Caroline did not respond, Elizabeth continued. "I am not so naive, Caroline. I know you will get no consideration from the constable or the courts, but women do sometimes live apart from their husbands or even divorce in such circumstances."
Caroline shook her head wearily. "I am afraid that is not how it works in my world, Elizabeth. Sir John has many friends and great resources, and my own reputation is...less than polished." She waved her hand dismissively. "I usually go home once the bruises fade, for he does not like to see me marked. There is no help for it this time as he will want me there for Christmas." She stood up and pulled her dressing gown around her. "In any case, it is not as bad as it looks." She strode with self-conscious grace to the doorway, but her slow movements also suggested injuries less visible to the eye than the ones on her face.
She paused in the doorway. "Allow me to give you a little advice. If I had a man like Fitzwilliam Darcy who wanted me," she said, looking back at Elizabeth, "I would go to him and never leave."
"It is not that simple, Caroline, as you know it better than most. It does not take much to ruin a reputation."
"No, it does not, and the truth is that it will be ruined or raised regardless of your own actions. You are a bigger fool than I thought if you sacrifice one moment of comfort with a man like that over fears of what anyone else thinks. You will have to learn to be far more ruthless if you are to be his lover."
"We intend to marry," Elizabeth said indignantly.
Caroline sneered. "It is all the same. He will use you until he is tired of you, either way, and then he will find other ways to amuse himself. That is what men of his station do."
She lowered her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. "But if he wants you that much right now, whatever inanities the ladies of the Ton might titter behind their fans should not matter to you in the slightest."
Elizabeth watched her walk out, eyes wide.
"Oh, one more thing," she said, from the shadows in the hallway. "Do not think this means we are now friends."
Elizabeth did not see Caroline again, and was not even sure when she left, only that she was gone. She knew that their paths would surely cross again, though. Despite Caroline's parting words to her, Elizabeth wondered if they would meet at the next crossroads as allies or adversaries. Or perhaps neither, Elizabeth thought wryly.