"We've been invited to a ball!" Georgiana sat in the breakfast room the next morning and said to Elizabeth as she examined the pile of letters that had arrived for them. "Two. No three!" She held up another cream envelope. "One is a private ball, the others are public dances. Elizabeth has many invitations too, but I didn't open them, of course."
"I should hope not," Darcy said from behind the newspaper at his seat at the breakfast table. He looked up as Elizabeth entered. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"
Both her husband and his sister looked more well rested and neatly attired than she felt considering the long carriage ride the day before.
"I slept well, thank you," Elizabeth said, which was not entirely true. Her bed was large and comfortable enough, but she lay awake in the strange room for hours, listening to the unfamiliar city sounds coming from the street. Outside the window, voices rose and fell. Horses clopped by. Leaves shook and a branch tapped on the window. It was all so alive and awake. She wasn't sure how anyone was able to get a good night's sleep in the city. She had hoped Darcy might make a late night visit to see how she was faring in the strange house, but he hadn't. London would take some getting used to.
"You may not have been Mrs. Darcy very long, but you already have an impressive pile of letters to answer," Darcy said, gesturing to the stack Georgiana had gone through. He took a piece of bacon from the silver tray and popped it into his mouth.
Georgiana nodded, smiling. "I think nearly every lady of society in London wants to meet you."
Elizabeth saw the letters and blushed. Despite her best efforts to buoy her spirit, her heart sank by the idea that she had to meet all those people. "It's not me they want to meet. It's Mrs. Darcy."
Darcy looked at her curiously, and she reddened. She knew she should not be casting doubts on people she had not yet met. Or at least not saying so out loud. She took a sip of tea. "I only mean that I am a curiosity to them."
"Yes, that's true," Darcy nodded. "But as they grow to know you, I daresay you will make some true friends," he said and smiled.
Elizabeth tried to smile back at him, but his comment stung.
He was right.
She needed to be more tolerant and open minded about Londoners. She knew her share of dullards and bores in the country, as in any social circle. There must be good respectable people here in the city too. She-who always prided herself on not judging people-was making assumptions about Darcy's friends and family. She was judging all of London. And finding them wanting.
"Did Cassandra sleep well?" Darcy asked. "I didn't hear her last night." Elizabeth was going to reply that the baby spent most of the night in her bed, but at that moment, the nurse walked into the room, carrying the bright-eyed baby. "There's the Sausage!" Darcy stood up and took her in his arms. "How is Sausage?" he said and bounced her happily on his lap.
The baby smiled and giggled at her father and Georgiana. Elizabeth knew she should be cheered at the happy scene of domesticity, but something cold formed in her chest. Maybe Cassandra preferred her father's company to her own. Elizabeth set down the teacup and stood up. Without thinking, she walked toward the glass doors leading to the back garden.
"Elizabeth, are you unwell?" she heard Darcy ask.
"No." She glanced back at the table and saw Darcy and Georgiana's confused expressions. She turned the cold knob and stepped outside, the air damp and foggy. She wrapped her arms around her for warmth but kept walking.
Anger inside her burned as she walked the garden. She couldn't pinpoint why she was so angry. Darcy hadn't done anything to offend her. Cassandra only brightened at the sight of her father. She knew her child loved her.
And yet. She tried to organize her muddled thoughts as she walked. The gardens were all dead and decayed despite being a mild day for winter. From the plants, dead leaves hung brown and crisped. With her finger, she traced browned stems that had grown into elaborate corkscrew shapes and delicate, fanning leaves. She walked down the rows examining the beauty in decay.
"Mrs. Darcy?" Please take your shawl," her maid called to her from the door, and ran to her with her thick gray knit. Elizabeth allowed her to drape it over her shoulders as though she were a little girl.
"There. You need to keep warm, Ma'am," she said and patted her shoulder gently. She was annoyed at the action but knew she was being silly.
Elizabeth thanked her and turned back down the once-green aisles, examining the withered flowers and leaves, occasionally stopping to touch a desiccated bloom, now a dried husk that inevitably shattered in her hand.
This was how she felt. Dried, cold and black and curled up for the winter. She had once been green and supple-back at Longbourn-but now she felt like a dried empty husk. Instantly tears formed behind her eyes as though she had lost something valuable, though she had no logical reason to cry. She made certain no one could see her then as she wiped her eyes. She blamed coming to London society for making her feel overwhelmed.
After several moments of silent tears, she wandered back to the house, reluctant to go back inside. As she got closer, she saw a solitary figure standing near the back door. It was Darcy, worry etched across his brown. His wolfhound, Banquo, chewed a stick at his side.
"Are you unwell, Elizabeth?"
She shook her head and forced herself to smile. "I confess I'm melancholy today. I think it is fatigue from traveling."
He nodded and placed a hand on her back to lead her to the house. "You will catch a cold out here. Why don't you come inside and have some hot tea? The nurse has taken Cassandra back upstairs."
She nodded but felt numb as she came inside and had tea poured for her.
"Georgiana, will you come down and sit with Elizabeth as she warms up? I have an errand I must attend to in the city today."
Georgiana carried her embroidery over and sat down on a chair near her.
Elizabeth sat, lost in thought until Georgiana spoke again.
"Don't you wish to read your mail?" She hopped up and carried the letters to her.
Elizabeth took the envelopes and examined the curling scripts that decorated them.
"Aren't you going to open it?" Georgiana asked, looking at her peculiarly.
"Oh, yes," Elizabeth said and slipped her hand under a flap to open the seal. It was from Lord Ruten, with whom Darcy had attended school at Cambridge, inviting them to a dinner in their honor in a week.
Elizabeth felt as though she were floating above everything in the room, looking down on them. She was there, but she felt removed.
"Are you well, Lizzie?" Georgiana asked. There was the question everyone kept asking her. She nodded dismissively.
"Yes, I'm simply tired. I may go to bed and lie down."
Georgiana watched her walk toward the stairs.
"I am fine," Elizabeth said to Georgiana before she returned to her bed chamber.
It had snowed overnight and a fresh white blanket now made London streets clean and pretty again for a few hours, Darcy noticed. At least until charcoal, smoke and manure began to scatter and blacken the streets and sidewalks.
But Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana were out early enough to enjoy the untouched snow for a few hours. Darcy looked past his sister, who sat on the other side of him in the barouche. It was a tight squeeze for the small gig, but they all fit because Georgiana and Elizabeth were small. Usually sitting the three of them in such a small space would have been cause for nonstop giggling between the two women. But Elizabeth merely stared out at the passing cityscape, no expression on her face. He knew his wife did not relish seeing his relatives again, and they were on their way to meet Darcy's cousin, Anne and her mother, Lady Catherine. He attributed her quiet mood to that.
They arrived at the Belgravia mansion on Chester Street where Lady Riddle lived and where Anne and Catherine stayed. Elizabeth gazed up at the tall stone facade and said nothing while Georgiana barely looked up.
Georgiana was used to lofty places like this, having lived in London with her governess after the Wickham debacle at Ramsgate. Darcy's gloved hands balled up with anger remembering Wickham. He'd have snapped the man's neck if he had the opportunity to. Fortunately (or unfortunately, he thought) he hadn't gotten close enough to him to do so.
Elizabeth sat still while Georgiana scurried down from her seat and onto the snowy sidewalk with help from the coach. Darcy reminded Georgiana to wait for her turn to exit, but he glanced at Elizabeth and thought better of it. She was pale, and he remembered he needed to find a wetnurse here in London for Cassandra. Perhaps that's what it was. She was weak from nursing Cassandra for as long as she had.
In all the chaos since Lady Catherine's visit, securing a London wetnurse had fallen to the wayside, and Darcy cursed himself for this lapse. He'd speak to Mrs. Lewis tonight and have her find someone as soon as possible, although he worried that a wet nurse in the city may be less wholesome than one in the country. Perhaps he should suggest Elizabeth dispense nursing altogether. He knew she enjoyed it, but as pale she looked, he wondered if it weakened her too much.
Darcy held out his hand to assist his wife down, and she took it. She looked tired and thin and here he was forcing her to travel in the dirty, foul city to visit with Lady Catherine, of all people. He vowed to take better care of her in the future.
Alas, there was no way around it now. He promised himself that he and Georgiana and the nurse would take Cassandra tonight so she'd be able to get some rest. He'd mention it to Georgiana when he could have a private word with her.
"Are you unwell?" he asked softly as he helped her down.
She shook her head silently and moved past him, which caused his heart to squeeze with concern. Normally, Elizabeth would have laughed off any notions of illness.
Lady Catherine's butler opened the broad mahogany door and held it open for them as they walked in. Citrus and warm tea wafted through the air.
"Mr. and Miss Darcy! How enchanting to see you both again." Lady Riddle was as Darcy remembered her from town: tall and slim with red hair that curled around her face. Despite being bosom friends with his aunt, she had a sweet, kind look.
"Allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Riddle. Mrs. Darcy,"
Lady Riddle nodded to Elizabeth, who curtsied.
"Lovely to meet you."
"Very nice to meet you," Elizabeth said softly.
Lady Catherine sat in the center of the room with her daughter Anne perched at her side. Poor Cousin Anne, he thought as he always did when he saw her. For someone who was supposed to be enjoying greater health, she looked much the same: pale and thin, like she might break in a strong wind.
The party greeted Lady Catherine and Anne and were served tea by silent uniformed servants. Darcy watched Elizabeth sink into a velvet cushioned chair while Georgiana sat nearer to Anne. "How do you do, Anne? You look well."
Anne smiled at each of them shyly and pushed her round spectacles up her nose.
"I am pleased that you have accepted my invitation," Lady Catherine said to the party. "I think Georgiana and Anne will be quite the bells at this year's court."
Georgiana exchanged an anxious smile with Anne.
"Yes, we do want both girls to enjoy themselves," Darcy said.
Lady Catherine opened her mouth. "Frivolity is not the purpose of our endeavor, but I can't picture two more vivacious, lively girls."
Darcy wanted to laugh, but he managed to cough into his hand instead. His eyes sought out Elizabeth's, who he thought would also find this quite a joke. But she, who sat still and quiet, didn't smile back.
"Georgiana is keen to know the machinations for presentation to court."
Lady Catherine smiled knowingly. "It is quite simple. The girls stand in the ballroom until their names are called, and they step forward and curtsey to Queen Charlotte, who is next to a giant birthday cake. It is quite an honor."
Lady Riddle leaned toward them and smiled conspiratorially. "I have brought London's finest modiste to take the measurements to create their court dresses. But of course, they are both as tiny as birds. Poor Kitty Mellen-daughter of Lord Mellen, you know-will be there as well, and I suspect the amount of material needed for her dress will be extensive considering her girth."
Georgiana smiled weakly. "Kitty Mellen is a very sweet girl. I met her last year," she said.
"That may be so, but her mother should restrict her teacakes, at least until after the Queen's birthday."
Georgiana blinked fearfully at Lady Catherine's pronouncement and eyed the fresh tea cakes in front of her with suspicion.
While each of the girls was whisked off by maids to be measured, Darcy watched Elizabeth. She nodded appropriately and smiled when something amusing was said, but she seemed to be a ghost of her former self whose eyes turned to stare out the window repeatedly. He was not the only one who noticed.
"By my word, you are very meek today!" Lady Catherine exclaimed to Elizabeth. "You are a silent mouse! Are you unwell?"
Elizabeth blushed.
"Not at all, Lady Catherine. I am sorry if you think I'm rude." She smiled faintly, a hint of the old Elizabeth coming through. "I should think you would find it preferable," she added.
Lady Catherine sniffed and ignored Elizabeth's joke. "Upon my word, it is surprising. Is the babe well?" she asked, turning from Elizabeth to Darcy.
Darcy nodded. "She is excellent. Thank you for your concern, Aunt. Sometimes I suspect she is stronger than all of us put together."
Lady Catherine smiled imperiously. "She is a Darcy."
After several minutes, Georgiana and Anne returned to the room, the two girls smiling shyly to each other as more trays of food were carried in by servants. Georgiana looked carefully at the small treats displayed prettily on the tray, which Elizabeth finally seemed to notice.
"You must eat whatever you wish. Do not fear that your figure will not be ideal for the party," Elizabeth said softly to Georgiana.
"Yes, both of you could quite be fattened up," Lady Riddle added merrily and gestured for a server to set the teacakes near the girls.
Georgiana looked to Lady Catherine and sneaked a teacake from the plate when she thought she wasn't looking.
Lady Catherine turned to Darcy.
"Do come talk to me, nephew, for I have things to say."
Darcy nodded and kneeled beside his aunt's seat, away from the party, who were admiring swatches of silk for their dresses brought by the maid.
"Have a care with your wife, Fitzwilliam. She seems unusually quiet, which is not like her."
Darcy looked up at Elizabeth, who had gone back to looking out the window.
"I think she is tired from our journey. I must take her home and make her rest."
Lady Catherine's frown deepened.
"After confinement, a woman may not be herself for a while. Men, of course, know nothing about this. She should not be over-indulged either."
Darcy nodded, stupid at how powerless he felt.
"Should I consult a doctor?"
Lady Catherine shook her head. "No, for doctors only make it worse. Do not let her dwell upon her thoughts too much either, for that is how hysteria develops. You should limit her movement about the city so she does not take in too much noxious vapors. Keep her rooms warm. She should avoid fresh air. That is my advice to you."
Darcy, shaken, nodded his head and stood up.
"Fresh air is her one tonic in life," he said.
Lady Catherine's wrinkled eyes widened. "You MUST. She needs warm still air. Tell her maid this is very important."
Elizabeth herself had said she felt melancholy a few days ago. He immediately began plotting the steps he could do to alleviate it. He vowed to make sure a sound wetnurse was brought in to allow her to rest.
As Lady Riddle and Lady Catherine gave the girls advice on their royal meeting, Darcy moved to where Elizabeth sat and suggested she take a turn in the room with him.
Elizabeth still looked pale, but she smiled too. "What secrets is Lady Catherine whispering to you about?" she said to him, taking his arm.
"No secrets at all. She simply said you seem fatigued and I agree. I should like to take you home so that you may rest."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as if she didn't believe it. "That is kind of her. I must appear quite hopeless. I do hope you all are not plotting to have me sent away."
Darcy made himself smile. "Not at all. Nothing a night's rest cannot amend. Georgiana and I will play nursemaid to Cassandra tonight so that you may rest."
That night, he and Georgiana kept their word, taking turns holding (and Georgiana, singing to) the baby. At one point, Georgiana played a nursery lullaby on the pianoforte, but Cassandra shrieked and turned her head away from the instrument. Darcy held her and pretended to dance with her until she finally quieted.
Later, he checked on Elizabeth, who was fast asleep.