Several hours later, Elizabeth lay awake in the middle of the night while everyone else in the house had gone to bed. She stared up at shadows wavering on the ceiling, the result of torches that reflected light from the courtyard of the town house.
She tossed from one side to the other in irritation. Why was she so restless? Her body was warm-almost burning-and she threw the quilt off of her for relief.
Her breasts felt tender, and she knew her milk was drying up. It would have seemed embarrassing to her before she actually experienced it. But now, it was far too painful to be remotely amusing. Even lying on her side caused her pain. It also made her inexplicably sad. Her connection to Cassandra was disappearing and she felt shame that it happened before her daughter was ready to be weaned. Of course, they could hire multiple wet nurses and her baby wouldn't suffer. But her body was supposed to take care of her baby. It had carried and protected Cassandra so well during her pregnancy, now it was turning on her. Betraying her when her baby needed it. Shouldn't it have known better?
She gave up trying to sleep and stood and pulled on a robe and slippers. She could hear street noise drift up to her. She missed her walks at Longbourn and even the solitary nature trails she had begun to forge around Pemberley. Here in London, she felt trapped inside the house. The streets were so busy, she feared she'd be run over simply crossing it.
Without thinking, she found herself walking to the nursery, where she stood to make sure Cassandra slept. Some nights she had a panicky urge to jump up and make certain that the baby was still breathing. Tonight though, she felt very little looking down at her baby. She could see herself watching her, but not feel the tender connection she thought she should feel. Cassandra slept soundly, her small chest rising and falling in the blue light of the moon. Perhaps Elizabeth lacked a quality it took to make her a caring mother. Elizabeth sat down in a nearby chair, wrapped up in a blanket and began to silently shed tears.
Motherhood was so different than how she thought it would be. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she hadn't expected to look at her baby and feel nothing, like inside her was an empty stone well that simply went down and down, so far down one couldn't see the bottom.
She pulled the blanket around her, tears wetting her face. What if she didn't have the disposition to be a good mother? Darcy would be so sorry when he realized what a mistake he'd made in marrying her.
Darcy.
More tears poured down her face. She thought her love for him would make being a mother natural for her, and here she was crying in the nursery in the middle of the night. She could never tell anyone how she felt, not even Jane, because no one would understand. She grabbed a cloth from a table and wiped her nose.
A creak from the doorway turned her head.
"Are you unwell?" Darcy's voice came from the door.
Elizabeth quickly wiped away her tears and tried to smile. He couldn't witness her acting like this. "Oh, yes. I am simply thinking silly thoughts and missing Pemberley."
Darcy moved toward her in the dark, glanced at Cassandra and then back to Elizabeth.
"You are not well," he said when he came closer to her. He wore a robe over his greatshirt.
"Yes," she protested but more tears came down her face. She felt like a fool.
"My dear," Darcy crouched near her, his eyes dark. "What is it? What can I do? Did my Aunt say something rude to you?"
Elizabeth expelled a damp sob, but shook her head. "No. I don't know why I'm crying." She pressed the cloth to her dripping nose.
Darcy placed a warm hand on hers and squeezed it.
"You are tired from the journey. I should not have made you come to London so soon after your confinement."
She wished that was her malady; that it was so simple. More tears streamed down her face.
His hand warmed her skin. She leaned toward him. If she could just feel near to him again, maybe she would feel more like herself.
"My dear," Darcy said, looking more concerned by the moment. "Should I fetch your maid?"
"No. I am well," Elizabeth whispered, almost angrily. In the dark, she reached for him and pressed against his warm, broad body. She needed to know he still loved her. "Might I perhaps...sleep in your bedchamber tonight?"
Darcy pulled away and looked at her face seriously. "Of course you may, but I will be there too."
Elizabeth sniffed and forced herself to smile. She knew he was trying to be amusing. Normally his comment would have elicited a true smile from her. She understood he was trying to be kind, and still irritation flared inside her. It was so unlike her.
It will pass, she told herself as Darcy guided her to his bedchamber, her legs trembling underneath her.
Darcy lay behind Elizabeth on the bed and watched her shoulder rise and fall as she breathed.
He knew she was sensitive and pushed herself more than she realized, particularly after the baby's birth. But he had never been truly afraid for her until now. He'd never seen her cry the way she had, as though the tears might not stop, nor seen the fearful, hollow-eyed look she had. Her expression stayed with him. How could he help her? They were now in London and set to go to court in a few weeks. He wanted more than anything to take her out of the filthy city and take her back to Pemberley, where she was safe and she'd feel better. Retreating now, before everyone had met the new Mrs. Darcy would cause a small scandal unless they lied and said she had fallen ill.
Perhaps she was truly unwell.
Darcy rolled quietly on his back restlessly and stared up at the blue upholstered canopy on his bed. He wanted to call a physician, but his aunt's words made him hesitate. He'd heard some women acquired nervous states after confinement. But Elizabeth was the strongest woman he'd known.
All he knew was he wanted her back, how she used to be. He was selfish. He'd overridden her wishes and forced her and a young infant to travel to London to go to court. What a fool he'd been. He'd worried about his sister's health, but not given a thought to his wife's because he'd never had need to before.
There was one thing he could do. His eyes snapped open.
By, God, yes.
Her sister Jane would be a comfort to her. He'd write Bingley and she and ask them to come to London. If anything was truly wrong, she would be the one to know best how to help.
He rolled back to her and gently nuzzled closer so he could inhale her clean scent. He would send a note first thing in the morning.
A week later, Darcy was pleased to see a letter with a familiar-looking script handed to Elizabeth at breakfast.
His wife inhaled audibly when she saw the envelope.
"A letter from Netherfield," she said and opened it quickly, and for perhaps the first time in a week, her lips curved up into a faint smile.
"Jane and Bingley are coming to London in a few days," she said, a flush of excitement coloring her cheeks.
Darcy smiled back at her. "How unexpected. What brings them to town?"
Elizabeth flipped over the letter to read the last of it.
"A social call. She wishes to see Cassandra now that she is a bit older, as well as all of us. She particularly wishes to know Miss Darcy better."
Darcy sipped his coffee to hide his self satisfaction. He felt very clever indeed.
"I haven't seen Bingley in an age!" Georgiana cried. "And I'm so eager to become better acquainted with your beloved Jane."
Elizabeth smiled and squeezed her hand. "She will admire you greatly, Georgiana. I can't wait for you to know her better."
Darcy nodded and hid his face behind his newspaper. "It is true that the new Mrs. Bingely is one of the kindest creatures you will meet. She and Bingely are well matched in that way."
Georgiana's brow creased and she looked puzzled.
"But, William, I have heard you say that Bingley was perhaps too trusting of people sometimes. Or have you changed that opinion?'
Darcy quickly set down his coffee cup and moved the newspaper so he could see his sister's eager face.
"Bingley and I are very different, despite our great friendship. He has the fortune to think well of most people. Whereas I am far less easily satisfied by people's characters, until they have proven otherwise."
"And what did you first think when you met Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked and looked from her brother to his wife.
He glanced at Elizabeth, who was adding jam to her toast. "Although I was struck by how pretty she was, I was too shy to converse with her properly. Now you see I am not always so brilliant." Darcy smiled at Elizabeth, who returned the look.
Georgiana smiled and grasped both their hands. "But it has all worked out so well in the end. Do you think how different your life would be if you hadn't met Elizabeth?"
Darcy's stomach sank at her words, but he pretended otherwise. "Yes, it would be just you and I and Lady Catherine here eating breakfast." He laughed and nodded to her lap. "And she would find the amount of crumbs you're spilling appalling."
Georgiana shuddered. "Oh, that would be terrible for all of us."
Darcy's gaze fixed on Elizabeth again, who was looking down at her plate. What she was thinking?
"Yes, it would," he added. "Undoubtedly terrible."
Despite the excitement of Jane and Bingley's impending arrival, Georgiana was still on a strict schedule of meetings that propelled her toward her debut at court. There were appointments at dressmakers, hairdressers, lessons on royal etiquette, and luncheons to meet and befriend dozens of other debuting young women. It was at one such lunch that she was reintroduced to Fiona Scanlon, who had attended her family's Christmas party at Pemberley.
"Miss Darcy," Fiona said as she approached. "I am surprised to see you here in London. I thought you were not coming out this year," Fiona said to her, her nose firmly lodged in the air.
Georgiana took in Fiona's dress, which was soft coral and had gold fliilgrees along the bodice and hem. It was breathtakingly pretty.
"Yes, my Aunt convinced me to come to London after all." Georgiana said and glanced ahead at the dresses of the other girls. All were equally well cut, floral and reminded her of flowers in a summer field. She felt underdressed in her simple cream dress, although it was decorated with Belgium lace and was quite expensive.
As if Fiona could read her mind, her lips turned upwards. "I adore your dress. It is so...simple."
Georgiana smoothed her perspiring hands over her skirts. "Thank you."
"I was just remarking how snug and cozy our Chrstimas was at Pemberley. Snowed in at Derbyshire! With men like Mr. Hugh Devereax."
Georgiana's own memories of Adam flashed in her mind. She had quite forgotten Hugh and how she'd first been smitten with him.
Fiona grasped her arm warmly. "La, Miss Darcy, come and meet my friends. Allow me to introduce Miss Isabelle Hudson and Miss Charlotte Grant," she said as two of the prettiest, most beautifully dressed girls approached and greeted Fiona warmly.
"Miss Darcy, I believe we met last year at a dinner at Vicar Smith's home," Isabella said.
Georgiana nodded politely.
"Miss Darcy, how I've longed to meet you," Charlotte said. "I believe my older brother is acquainted with yours."
"Very nice to meet you as well."
The girls made her nervous, but she smiled and nodded, following their conversations about ribbons and who made good and poor dancing partners.
"You will be coming to my home for dinner tomorrow night, won't you, Miss Darcy?" Charlotte turned to her. "You know who will be there? Mr. Hugh Devereaux," she said and smiled proudly.
"Hugh Devereaux is a barely licked man cub," Fiona said. "And you know he must be on the lookout for an heiress."
Georgiana was surprised to hear Fiona characterize him in that way.
"Do not look at me so shocked. Everyone knows his family's debts have accumulated under his father. He will need to marry well if his family is to stay in Ford Glen, she said referring to his family home.
"Miss Darcy is an heiress," Charlotte said and giggled.
"Too true! Miss Darcy, do you find Mr. Devereaux charming?" At this comment, the girls turned and looked at her and she blushed deeply at their giggles.
"I think he's handsome," Charlotte said. "But he does need to go out and experience the world before he is husband material."
"Only to you. Not everyone has your...appetites, you know," Fiona said.
"Do stop," Charlotte said and swatted her with her fan.
The girls' talk was shockingly forward. Georgiana had only been absent from London for a year, and suddenly her childhood friends had grown up considerably. She wasn't sure what to think.
Across the room, one of the hostess's brothers stood smiling.
"There is Samuel Calhoun, Rebecca's brother," Charlotte said. "He seems happy to be here."
Fiona smirked. 'You know what they say about him?" She looked at the girls slyly. "NSIC," she whispered.
Georgiana didn't know what that meant, but she was too shy to ask. Luckily. Charlotte asked for her.
"NSIC?"
Fiona took a sip of her claret. "Not Safe In Carriages. Apparently he's known to be quite busy in them."
The other girls giggled and Georgiana played along.
"How does the new Mrs. Darcy like London?" Fiona asked.
"She likes it very much," Georgiana replied, finding Elizabeth across the room. "But at heart, she is more comfortable in the country. As is my brother."
"Yes, I had heard that." Fiona said knowingly, which made her wonder what else she'd heard.
Georgiana spied Elizabeth, sitting amongst other married society ladies. Frankly, Elizabeth looked miserable. She nodded along to what another woman said, but her eyes had none of the spark they usually did. Perhaps none of them were at home in the city anymore. Georgiana marveled at how feelings could change so much in a short period of time.
"Ah, look who it is," Charlotte said and the girls all turned in the she was looking.
There, tall as ever, stood Adam Merriweather. He looked elegant, wearing a well-cut gray coat and spotless Hessian boots. He gestured as he spoke to another man. Georgiana had forgotten he took up quite so much space.
"Oh," Fiona said and smirked. "Miss Darcy, are you surprised? Mr. Merriweather is everywhere this season. He was at your Christmas in Derbyshire, wasn't he?"
Georgiana tore her eyes away from his broad shoulders and shrugged as though she didn't care. But inside she was reeling. How long had he been here in London? Why hadn't he called on her?
"Mr. Merriweather has two of my favorite qualities," Fiona smiled at the other girls. "He's tall and rich." Her lips curved up playfully and she sipped her drink.
"Very rich," Charlotte said. "His father's business even outearns your brother's, Miss Darcy. But of course, his money comes from trade." Her voice lowered on the last word as though it were a secret.
Fiona laughed. "Oh Charlotte, his money spends the same as other men's money, doesn't it?"
Charlotte reddened. "Fiona," she said, cringing. "You know it's not the same. Also, his father refuses to trade in Barbados because of slave labor."
Fiona shrugged. "So they mean to moralize us? How tiresome. However, I'll wager that the Mama of the girl who becomes his bride will not turn her nose up to his money either. But he is a merciless social climber."
"Oh, Fiona!" Charlotte exclaimed while the other girls laughed.
A moment later, Adam found Georgiana's face across the room. His smile broadened pleasantly.
"Miss Darcy!" he called and crossed the room.
Georgiana glanced at the other girls nervously, but he seemed to only be looking at her.
"What a pleasant surprise! I did not think you partook in ton lunches."
Despite her discomfort, Georgiana felt her lips pulling up into a smile, which she tried to suppress. "Mrs. Darcy and I, that is-I am preparing for presentation at court."
"Yes, I did not expect the Darcys to be present at lunch with such social climbers."
He smiled widely to Fiona to indicate he had heard her. "After all, there are people from trade here. How utterly common!"
It was just like him to poke fun at himself. She couldn't help it, she smiled. She again tried to dampen it around the other girls, but couldn't seem to. For perhaps the first time that day, she was enjoying herself.
"Mr. Merriweather, you are always so droll," Fiona said with a sharp smile. "When did you arrive in London?"
"Three days ago. My father and I received an invitation and thought visiting the city would be diverting." When he spoke, he looked directly at Georgiana, which made her blush and look down again.
Fiona noticed. "La, I find my drink nearly gone. Who will accompany me to the punch bowl? I suspect Mr. Merriweather and Miss Darcy wish to converse privately."
Georgiana watched them flounce away, and was not sorry to see them go.
"Pay them no mind, Miss Darcy," Mr. Merriweather said. "Fiona is the worst kind of busybody. She has no heart and will not rest until everyone is put in their place."
"She is not so bad," Georgiana said.
Adam Merriweather looked back to her with surprise.
"She was very interested in sniffing around me until she found out my father worked in trade. Then she barely deigned to speak to me."
"Well, you can hardly blame her for that," Georgiana said, only realizing when she said it how severe it sounded. "I just mean that's not uncommon…" her words trailed off uncomfortably.
"That's all right. You needn't explain that prejudice to me. I am quickly becoming an expert on it. You'd think England hadn't been built on trade like everywhere else."
Georgiana flushed as she realized she, too, was guilty of that kind of thinking.
"I am sorry if we appear unkind to you," she said sincerely.
He shrugged. "I don't worry about it for me. I just don't want Glen Hollow's (check name) cats treated so shabbily on my account," he said and a smile broke across his face.
"Oh, yes. Do they have a busy social calendar this season?"
He grinned. "Extraordinarily busy, yes. They are quite in demand." He said playfully.
"I am sure everyone will look past it once they realize what charming and sparkling guests they are."
Adam Merriweather's lips quirked upward again. "I do hope you're right, Miss Darcy." He glanced around the room. "Are Mrs. Darcy and your brother here as well?"
"Mrs. Darcy is there, with the other married women."
Adam looked over and saw Elizabeth's strained expression. "She looks as though she is trapped by every dull matron buffalo in the room. Poor thing. Shall I rescue her and bring her here?"
Georgiana shook her head. "People will talk."
He sighed. "Miss Darcy, they will gossip anyway. But I will allow you to dissuade me from my mission. For propriety's sake. This time."
Georgiana cleared her throat and tried to seem nonchalant. "I was surprised to find you here in London."
He took two sparkling flutes of champagne from a tray held by a passing footman and smiled at her. "I was not. My father and I rode in a carriage for three days-and lo, we arrived in London!"
Georgiana hit him softly with her glove. "Do you take anything seriously?'
He leveled his gaze at her. "Yes, I do. But not at frothy parties where I am rich enough to be invited, but not connected enough to be treated respectfully."
Gerogiana raised her eyebrows and nodded. "But I will say that half the Mama's in the room will look past your connections in favor of your fortune."
Adam took a long sip from his flute. "Yes. So tell me, how does your fast horse do? Slightly, but not-damagingly-lame, I hope?"
Georgiana smiled at him. "You are too much, Mr. Merriweather."
"So I'm told. How hails the newest Darcy? Is she in London too?" Adam looked again to Mrs. Darcy.
"Very well. Yes, she traveled with us. I think the journey was the first time she had been quiet in her young life."
"Too bad that carriages do not have that effect on more people."
Georgiana chuckled, then followed Adam Merriweather's gaze to the matrons.
"Forgive me, but Mrs. Darcy looks paler than she was at Christmas. Does she fare well?"
Georgiana realized she was chewing her bottom lip.
"The journey has been difficult for her."
"That is a shame. Mr. Darcy was telling me what a prodigious walker she was."
Georgiana nodded. "Yes, it's hard to find quiet space here in London."
"She should walk in Hyde Park. It's beautiful there."
Georgiana nodded. "Yes, but we need chaperones," she paused, struck by a new thought. "Unless you are volunteering?" She gazed past him to Elizabeth and turned back excitedly to Adam.
"Miss Darcy, you have lost me."
She whispered to him."I must confide in you, but I need your absolute discretion on a delicate nature. I think I have come up with a way to help Mrs. Darcy, if you are willing."
Adam set his hand on his chest. "I would lay down my life for Mrs. Darcy," he said solemnly.
"You needn't do that. But you can-if you are so inclined-accompany us on nature walks to Hyde Park. I fear my sister needs fresh air and nature more than she realizes."
Adam smiled and bowed formally to her. "I am happy to be of service."
Georgiana nodded quickly. "If we talk longer here, there will be gossip. I must return to the girls. Thank you for your offer, Mr. Merriweather. I will write to you shortly."