Chapter 103

Elizabeth has asked Fanny to keep it simple today, she does not want to walk to an afternoon visit in the outskirts of Newcastle looking like an icon of fashion. She begs her maid to help her sort out Fitzwilliam's hair instead. And a good thing that is, for when they are both dressed and Elizabeth picks up her own brush to tackle her husband's hair explosion, Fanny has to intercede.

'No, ma'am, please don't brush the master's hair!'

Fanny is no longer afraid to gainsay her mistress if she feels she is in the right, and to have her call out so impetuously, it must be important.

'I'm sorry, ma'am, to be so rude, but if you brush the master's hair it will frizz until he looks like a chimney brush. I saw Simon do it once, do you remember, sir? But Simon knows how to set it to rights, I don't.'

'Now you mention it, Fanny, I do remember. I like the feeling of having my hair brushed, especially by my most beloved lady, but on second thought maybe we should refrain from making me look like a mop. What do you propose we do, Fanny? I can't go out looking like this, either.'

Fanny curtsies, she is still very much impressed by her dignified, and handsome, master.

'Simon actually told me what to do, sir, and he carefully packed everything I need. He said, 'I trust you to make the master look dignified but at the same time ravishing, Fanny.'

You can comb the master's hair instead of brushing it, if you like, ma'am? Then I'll fetch the jars with the product I need.'

Combing is not as much fun as brushing, but maybe it's better Elizabeth tackles the knots a stroll on the beach, the salt wind and a frisky tumble on their bed yesterday night, and this morning, have caused to form. Fanny will be afraid to hurt her master, though Simon certainly never is.

'No pain, no gain, sir,' she has heard him say bluntly when Fitzwilliam complained over his rough combing, 'for you and me both. Your vanity has me slaving away to make your hair look as if you've overslept, when you insist on getting up early.'

Well, Elizabeth is going to be very gentle with her beloved, she does not want to hurt him, he is sweet and cute, and the way he looked at her last night at the beach and again this morning is precious. She does not want to spoil that by pulling his hair. Talking to Wickham's colonel and his captain will be enough bother for one day.

When she has one side of his head combed through and free of knots, he looks up at her with infatuation and says, 'That's almost as enjoyable as brushing, my love. When Simon combs my hair he sometimes pulls on it, then tells me to stop complaining if I so much as twitch. But what can I do? Nobody can tie a cravat like he does.'

'He's shown me how to do that, too, sir,' Fanny says cheerily. 'If I manage to do it as well as he does it, you can threaten to sack him. That'll put him to rights.'

Well, well, Fanny seems to be gaining some courage, and rather quickly. Though she should know by now that her master has a weakness for impertinence, even from his personal servants. Under the right circumstances.

'Well then, Fanny, I can't wait to see how you'll manage. I've been wanting to scold Simon for ages, but he has me in his power with all these concerts and official functions I need to visit, looking my best. And I'll judge my hair before exposing it to these vile sea breezes, I bet they'll have it tangled up again in a second.'

But Fanny obviously has an opinion on that as well, and she fearlessly tackles her master's smoothly combed hair with nothing but her small hands and a dab from one of the jars. And under Elizabeth's astounded gaze, a veritable shaking dog comes into existence within seconds, a dab from the other jar perfecting it.

Fanny gives one approving look at her handiwork, then washes her hands and fetches a clean cravat. A little shyly, she tucks it under Fitzwilliam's collar and around his neck, a rather intimate operation for a young girl like her. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam ignore her faint blush, it wouldn't do to tease her when she is trying so hard, and it soon fades when she gets to the actual tying.

When she is done, Fitzwilliam is impressed, and so is Elizabeth. It's not up to Simon's standard, but it's better than Fitzwilliam can do by himself. Fanny is not pleased with her own work.

'I think I need some more practice, sir, before you can start scolding Simon. But I suppose there are no reporters here?'

'Fanny, you're a prize,' Fitzwilliam says. 'The hair is just perfect, and the cravat is perfectly fine. I couldn't have done it better myself, not by far. Thank you very much. I suppose we'll all find out soon how the hair holds up under the breeze outside.

Now for some breakfast, I'm starving.'

During breakfast, they decide on a time that Fitzwilliam will fetch Elizabeth back from her sister's apartment, if his interview with Colonel Drummond ends sooner he will have to amuse himself for an hour or so. Elizabeth has sent word to her sister of her arrival, so she expects Lydia to be in today, awaiting her visit eagerly, but of course one never knows with Lydia. Therefore Fitzwilliam will accompany her to her sister's front door and wait until she is admitted before he drives off.

Lydia is in and eagerly opening the door when they arrive in the outskirts of Newcastle where she and many of the other officers' wives have their private quarters. Fitzwilliam quickly kisses her and is off to his own appointment, and Lydia falls into her sister's arms, crying. Lydia's maid takes Elizabeth's coat and leads her to the drawing-room, Elizabeth supporting her sister, then the maid takes the coat and Fanny with her, supposedly to the kitchen to make some coffee for her mistress.

The room is small and poorly furnished, the style of the furniture reminding Elizabeth of the Earl's house, but sadly not of the same quality, it's all a bit worn. It's shocking to see the circumstances in which her sister is living, but Lydia doesn't seem to mind at all and her maid, her only help, seems a pleasant kind of girl.

'Oh, dear Lizzy I'm so glad you came! And you brought your maid, I didn't think you'd ever be so vain to do that!' Eyeing Elizabeth critically, she observes bluntly, 'But you may need to find yourself another girl, Lizzy, this is not what I expected the famously well-dressed Mrs Darcy to look like. You were dressed ever so much better on Jane's wedding, are people that easily impressed in London?'

Lydia will never change. A minute before she is crying her eyes out, and now she is positively insulting! But Elizabeth is no longer responsible for her sister's behaviour, so she merely observes, 'I'm on a holiday, Lydia, I'm not going to ramble on the beach in my best dress. I'd freeze to death!'

'You'll never freeze in that beautiful coat you were wearing! That is priceless fur on the collar! Your coat at least will strike envy in the heart of every local girl.'

They talk a little about where they are staying, and how the trip was. Then the maid enters with coffee and a few sweet treats, and retreats immediately afterwards, leaving the pouring to Lydia herself. Which she manages admirably, and with a cup of coffee in her hand she asks, 'So how are Jane and Kitty? I was so sad not to be able to attend Kitty's wedding. Such an handsome man, Mr Lascelles, though he is not as handsome as my dear Wickham. I didn't tell him you were coming, it'll be such a surprise for him when he gets home to hear you've been here! He is out with his men, you know, he always is, except on Sundays. Then he reads, books on strategy, boring stuff. Or he goes out with friends, I don't know what they do, but he comes back sweating. I suppose it's not things one should do on a Sunday, though. He never goes to church with me either, I always go to the local church with Abbey, her family lives here. She has a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they all like me very much.'

That is as good a place to start as Elizabeth can think of, and she says gently, 'Will you tell me what happened, Lydia?'

Lydia's face grows uncharacteristically bleak, and she starts to speak mechanically.

'Everything was going well, Wickham said you'd talked to him and convinced him all would be well with my friends helping me out. He promised he'd hire a nanny to help me with caring for our baby, and I was very happy and didn't even mind his being away all the time. I had Janet, and Prissy and

Irene, my friends, and Abbey is very nice.

But then one day I started to bleed down there, it was really bad, and after some time I got really bad cramps. Abbey sent for Wickham, who sent for a doctor. The doctor said I was losing the baby and had Wickham send for the midwife. Janet came to help, and she stayed with me when the midwife told Wickham to leave. I didn't want him to but I was in such pain and she did not brook resistance. Then after hours and hours I got the baby, and lost a lot more blood besides. Of course the little thing was dead, and the midwife took it away. She said it was better off dead, and I should not see it. But Janet saw him and she said he was a boy, but he was not right. He didn't look like a proper child at all, she said, but she also said she had never seen a baby that young before so maybe they were all crooked and skinny. Janet is very smart, Lizzy, you'll like her.

Anyway, I wasn't done, for there was the afterbirth yet to come, and when that was born the midwife took it away, too, and had Abbey clean me up and then she said to keep really clean until the bleeding stopped, and not, you know, make love until then. Said it could kill me if I did.

The next day I had a fever and I still bled a lot, and Wickham stayed with me and was very sweet and worried. The next day the fever was gone but the bleeding went on for three weeks. I felt very weak for a month, and though Wickham went to work after two days he was still very nice. Then I felt much better but I was still very sad. I'm still sad, Lizzy, for I was hoping to have a boy, and I don't understand why I had to lose my baby when I wanted him so much, and Abbey's mum says she has neighbours who have baby after baby and don't want them anymore but still they keep coming.'

Poor Lydia, such serious thoughts from her flighty sister, and in such a shabby place. Why did she make such a foolish decision, marrying a penniless nobody? Had she waited six more months, she would have had every chance of making a match with a gentleman of some means on Jane's wedding, and a year later she could have come to Eric's concerts and met the cream of London society. Why Wickham? But still Lydia only seems unhappy because she lost her baby boy, and even Elizabeth can feel the tragedy in that. To carry new life within your own body and then have it torn from you, that is just plain cruel.

'If I show you something, Lizzy, will you promise not to laugh?'

Well, that's easy, there is nothing to laugh about losing a baby. She nods in acknowledgement, and Lydia walks through a different door than the one through which they came in. She returns almost immediately, with a hat box. Is she really going to show Elizabeth a new hat? Whatever would be funny about that? But when Lydia sits back down, opens the box and shows her sister several nicely made baby-dresses, carefully folded up inside it, Elizabeth feels closer to crying than to laughter. Her eyes burn, and she lets a few tears escape them in sympathy for her sister, who had already acquired a few little dresses for her eagerly awaited baby.

'I made them myself, Lizzy, every single one of them. When I knew Wickham would let me keep it, I asked Janet to show me how to sew, and she taught me.'

Elizabeth now takes the dresses from her sister and studies the workmanship. All of them are very well-made, with tiny neat stitches and perfectly spaced pleats. Lydia? Whose only interest in needlework was taking apart a hat she didn't like and applying some new decorations with a few rough stitches? When her sisters fitted their own dresses and would gladly have taught her their skills? One of the dresses even has a little embroidery on it, tiny flowers, maybe daisies. Lydia never wanted to learn that, said it was servants' work.

'I'm not too good at embroidery, Lizzy, and Janet couldn't teach me much. She's not good at it either. You always were such a proficient at needlework, will you teach me while you are here? For Janet says that next time I get with child I will have every chance to get a normal, healthy baby who will live. I want to make many more dresses before that. I find I like doing my own sewing, Abbey can't sew or embroider at all, she's from a different class of people than our servants at home were, you should have seen the dress she wore when she first came here to apply for her job. It was a disgrace. I've bought her a few decent ones, and gave her some old ones of mine for her mother.'

'I'll be happy to show you some techniques, Lydia. I've learned quite a lot myself, we have a housekeeper who makes the most beautiful works of art with embroidery. She taught me some fancy new stitches. And I can help you fit your dresses while I'm here, we can chat and work.

Lydia, these little dresses are beautiful, you have learned a lot from your friend. I hope I will get to meet her, to thank her for being a good sister to you while we cannot because we live too far away. And when Wickham goes away from home for any length of time, you should come and stay with us, and we'll go shopping. I'm very sorry you lost your little baby, Lydia, you wanted it so much. And I really hope Janet is right, that you will soon have another one that will live.'

'Janet has seen it happen, a friend of hers had the same. She says she is not worried for me, she knows it will be all right. I told her we are a very fertile family. That reminds, me Lizzy, aren't you with child, yet? You've been married for quite some time now, after all.'

'I am not, no. I don't want a baby yet, either, I'm still very happy living with just Fitzwilliam. Well, and his sister and her fiancée.'

'But he wants an heir, doesn't he? And mama told me she conceived almost immediately. What if you cannot have any children, Lizzy?'

'Then I suppose we will learn to live with that, Lydia. But we've not been married for that long. And I'm really not eager to get with child, not at all. All in good time, Lydia.'

She can say that calmly, but she doesn't feel it, not anymore. Though Elizabeth still doesn't particularly want a child, and the image of Charlotte with her distended belly, her constant fatigue, and her stringy hair is burned in her mind. She does not want Fitzwilliam to see her like that, not ever!

'Oh well, I'm sure Janet knows someone who took a long time to conceive as well. She is such a good friend to me, and she has taught me so much, as if I have you and Jane back, but I'm finally listening.'

By now, the time Fitzwilliam thought he needed with the colonel has almost passed, and Elizabeth expects him to pick her up before lunch.

'Fitzwilliam will be here soon, Lydia, he is seeing Colonel Drummond right now, his uncle and cousin gave him a letter of introduction, so he can talk to Wickham's superior to get him a promotion. I will visit again tomorrow, is there something you'd like to do together? We can use the carriage if you want to.'

'I'd like to show you the camp and introduce you to my friends, if you don't mind. They would love to meet you, and I'm certain you'll like them, they often talk like you and Jane.'

'Let's do that, then. I'll be here at more or less the same time as today. We can go shopping, too, Lydia, I have money for my personal expenses and I generally don't need all of it. I've taken whatever I have saved up, and we can use that to buy you some things you might need.'

'That is so sweet of you, Lizzy! There are a few things that need replacing, well, you can see that. Can you dress up tomorrow, Lizzy? They all read the papers, and they'll expect you to look like the most popular lady in town. If you don't look the part, they'll laugh at me. Not my friends, the other girls.'

Will she never escape those papers? But what can she do? Fortunately all her dresses are perfectly fashionable, it's more a matter of choosing the right accessories and doing her hair a certain way, using some make-up.

'All right Lydia, I'll prove to them I'm really the Mrs Darcy from the papers, filthy rich, adored by every gentleman, slave only to fashion.'

'Do you really get your dresses from France?'

'How long have you known me for, Lydia? Do you think I would seriously have clothes made for myself in France? Think again! I have a secret place where I shop, and if you visit London next winter you'll find out. If you visit Pemberley I have a different way to find you a few beautiful dresses, but you'll prefer London. Kitty would love you to visit, as would Jane.

Did you know Miss Bingley is getting married?'

Right when Elizabeth wants to tell Lydia about the hated Miss Bingley marrying a gentleman Lydia may remember from Jane's wedding, the door opens and Wickham comes strolling in.

'My dear, dear sister,' he addresses Elizabeth, who cannot but get up and greet him properly. And Wickham does not accept a curtsey, he takes hold of her hand and kisses it with feeling. If only he doesn't do that with Fitzwilliam present, or he can wave his promotion goodbye.

'You are more beautiful than ever, last time we met you were ravishing, but a little bit unreal. Now you're back to the young lady I admired for her beauty and her stimulating conversation.'

To Elizabeth, Wickham's spell is broken, has been broken for a very long time, but it seems as if he is not onto that at all. He still seems to believe her susceptible to his charms.

'I'm far removed from that young lady, Mr Wickham, I thought myself very clever at that time, but since then I have learned more about the world than I could even imagine.'

'I've always considered Darcy rather set in his own ways?'

It's barely civil, but Wickham usually gets away with these things because of his easy manners.

'Did I say I learned them from my beloved husband? You may know Simon, Fitzwilliam's valet, since he's had him in his service for ten years?'

'Oh, yes, I remember Simon. A ladies' delight, I saw him again that night at Netherfield, when I brought him your maid. Remember?'

That is true, Wickham took Fanny to Simon after saving her from Grenfell. 'Indeed I do. Well, Simon taught me everything he knows about city life, which is a lot. And then we joined public life in London and I learned as much from Mr Manners, whom you also met at Netherfield. I'm a different person, Mr Wickham, life in London, well, and getting married and growing up, have changed me.'

This clearly does not suit Wickham, his handsome face shows his disappointment, he must have known she was here despite Lydia's assurances she would tell him tonight, and have planned to make the most of finding her by herself. His next comment proves Elizabeth that she is right.

'I did not arrive at lunchtime by accident, Mrs Darcy. Colonel Drummond has such pleasure in his friend Earl Compton's nephew's visit, he was loath to part with him already, and he invited your esteemed husband to lunch. Who then undoubtedly protested his fair lady would be waiting for him at her sister's house, to have lunch together in one of Newcastle's superb establishments.'

'Actually we were planning to have lunch at our lodgings in Whitley. A very quaint village, do you know it?'

'I must admit I have never been there, no. But the colonel wouldn't take no for an answer, apparently he rarely does, I don't know him that well since I am merely a lowly ensign. And since I suspect your adoring husband would not budge if that meant disappointing you, I was called away from drill and directed to the colonel's office, to go home on the double and provide Mrs Darcy with lunch and the knowledge that her husband is safe and entertaining the colonel. Who will no doubt claim him tomorrow as well, and if you are very unlucky the rest of your stay here. But don't worry, your sister and I will be here to entertain you.'

And he makes an imperative gesture at Lydia, saying, 'Be a good girl, Lydia, and see to it that Abbey provides us with a lunch suitable for the likes of Mrs Darcy.'

Fortunately, Lydia is still the self-confident youngster she always was, and she retorts playfully, 'Lizzy has been my sister far longer than she has been Mrs Darcy, Wickham, and I happen to know she likes plain food.'

But Wickham obviously wants her out of the room.

'Then see to it that lunch is ready in half an hour, Lydia.'

Apparently he has her drilled as thoroughly as his men, for she kisses him tenderly and exits the drawing-room through the door they came in by, leaving Elizabeth all by herself with Wickham. That selfish colonel has something to answer for, when Fitzwilliam hears about this he'll be raving mad! He is making himself agreeable for Wickham's sake, to further his career, and while he is doing so Wickham feels free to bother his beloved.

For now Wickham closes in on Elizabeth, she is not afraid of him, frankly she quite likes him, as long as he behaves, but it seems he is not planning to. He sits right next to her on the sofa, he is still quite handsome if rather weather beaten from being outside in the sea breezes all the time. But he has a certain something about him he didn't use to have, Elizabeth supposes it comes with having a purpose in life, knowing one is doing good in the world. He is training his men, and himself, to defend their country against the threat of France, and doing a good job of it. It becomes him, he did prove himself a hero saving Fanny from a strong and influential man, but Elizabeth still doesn't like how he affects to be attached to her, a married woman and his sister-in-law. He could be an actor, the way he gazes into her eyes and takes one of her hands in both his.

'I should never have let you go, my dearest Elizabeth, the pain it causes me to see you with him, who was once as close as a brother to me and now considers me his greatest enemy.'

Elizabeth takes her hand back instantly, he has no right to moon over her, he never loved her and he still doesn't.

'It took some effort on your part to estrange him from you, Mr Wickham, and do not be mistaken, I was never yours, though I was very close to loving you one time. But prudence guarded my heart then, and rightfully so as it turned out. Your attentions to Miss King were a poignant warning, as I found out when I cast your accusations against Mr Darcy up to him, and got a thorough explanation of your actions in return. I merely regret not informing my own family of your miserable conduct towards him, condemning Lydia to live in conditions like these. Well, I also regret standing up for you against Fitzwilliam when I didn't know any better. I hurt him, when he didn't deserve to be hurt.'

Wickham finds it so easy to ignore things he doesn't want to hear, he merely continues as if Elizabeth didn't address him with painful truths.

'Can you really say you never loved me, not even a bit? I would never have allowed you to live in a place like this, Elizabeth, for you I would have bettered myself, exerted myself beyond your expectations. We would have been poor, but happy.'

He is deluding himself still. What can she do to make him see there was never any chance of their being together?

'I can tell you without hesitation that I never loved you, Mr Wickham. It would have been so unwise to fall in love with you, neither of us in the possession of any fortune or the hopes of gaining one. Remember, all that you have now was given to you by a man desperately in love with me, determined to save the woman he admired without hope of ever finding his love returned from the infamy of a sister's elopement. Even now he is making friends with your superiors to further your career. And you mean to thank him by, what is it anyway, Mr Wickham, what are you trying to achieve here?'

They have been over all this at Jane's wedding, why bring it up again? What does this man want from Elizabeth, why is he making it so difficult for them to help her sister and him?

'I can't seem to let go of what might have been, Elizabeth. Can't you give me what I ache for just once? For old times' sake? I promise I'll never bother you again, I'll be your sister's perfect husband, and father any number of babies on her.'

The gall of him! The lengths he will go to to spoil Fitzwilliam's happiness! After all her beloved did to save his future, even his sorry life, when his creditors started becoming serious in their threats.

'And give you the ultimate triumph over the man I do love? How gullible do you think I am? I have never desired to give you that, and I never will, Mr Wickham!'

Now he shows a strong emotion, and it's not anger, nor merely disappointment, it's more like desperation. He may be dangerous like this.

'You cannot mean what you're saying! You did love me, you're just denying it now. I cannot bear it, Elizabeth, your coldness, your aloofness, when once we were so close. If I hadn't foolishly thought having a fortune was better than having the perfect wife, we would have married on whatever money we could have scraped up between us. You cannot deny this!'

Elizabeth feels torn between fear of his strength and intensity, and anger at his presumption, he sure has a talent for remembering past experiences the way it suits him. But she did encourage him at that time, so she manages to temper her anger with a healthy dose of respect for his superior physical strength, and tries to reason with him.

'Mr Wickham, please calm down,' she starts, soothingly, but it is the wrong thing to say.

'Don't Mr Wickham me, Elizabeth! You're tearing out my heart being so cold, don't call him Fitzwilliam in front of me, then address me as Mr Wickham. I'm George, I was always George to you!'

That is just not true. They have never been informal, and finally her fear of him is overcome by her anger at his remembering events of the past to suit him.

'I will not give you what you want from me, Mr Wickham. I have never given you any reason to expect it, my behaviour to you has always been correct.'

He truly looks as if he is just going to take it, bending towards her as if he is going to kiss her, touch her. She can scream for Fanny, but what can the girl do against a grown man, a soldier? If he succeeds, Fitzwilliam will call him out and most likely be killed. She has to stop him herself, and before any harm is done. She lets her fear take over her voice.

'You are scaring me, Mr Wickham, I wish you would get a hold of yourself. You have been nursing some delusion over me, and if you do not control yourself now, it will be too late. You have no right to what you claim from me, and taking it will ruin your life. I'm very well-connected these days, touching me against my will will get you hanged. Please come to your senses and let Fitzwilliam get you a place in the rifles. Don't you want to improve yourself? Look at this place, you can do so much better, you're a good man, and a good soldier, but you need to face reality. We were never meant to be together, we didn't have a penny between us.'

It works. Slowly, the frantic expression is replaced by one not of calm, but realisation.

'I don't know what came over me, Mrs Darcy,' he stammers. And then, 'actually I do. I've allowed myself a certain freedom thinking of you, and seeing you again so unexpectedly made me lose my mind. I'm so very sorry, you must truly hate me now. I'll leave immediately and I'll stay away from you from now on. Please forgive me.'

That is better, though she can do without the grovelling, that is more Mr Collins' style, not Wickham's. And she doesn't want to alienate him altogether, she kind of likes him, and he may very well be Fitzwilliam's younger brother. At Mr Goodfellow's lecture, Earl Compton told her about the suspicions his sister Anne, Fitzwilliam's mother, had about her husband and Mrs Wickham. The Earl had indeed picked up Elizabeth's hint that she shared his suspicion, and they discussed where possible evidence might be found. Once they are back at Pemberley, Elizabeth will search old Mr Darcy's room, and possibly the attic of the house. Fitzwilliam's uncle promised to search his sister's room at his estate, and his attic, for letters, his sister having once mentioned intercepting one.

'I'm glad you're back to reason, Mr Wickham. And I don't hate you, I just want you to stop imagining things about me and act like any normal brother-in-law. Despite what you did to him, Fitzwilliam is trying to help you, but you're making it very difficult. We were so proud of the good reports we got about you, and now this. It makes me kind of sad, it's as if you just want to grasp at anything that belongs to Fitzwilliam that you think you can take from him. It's mean and it's low, and it's very insulting to me, as if I have no morals or self-respect.'

Oh, does he deny that!

'No, Mrs Darcy! How can you think such a thing of me?'

He does not need to be reminded of his lies, and his planned elopement with Georgiana. One of her eyebrows raised is enough.

'All right, I know why you'd think that of me. But this is not an effort to hurt my benefactor. I truly do love you, I have since we spent so much time together in Hertfordshire. I just wasn't used to those feelings, and I didn't acknowledge them until it was too late. But I guess you are right, you were never for the likes of me. Can you imagine what that feels like, seeing the woman you love in the arms of the man whom you have envied all your life, and who has just reasons to hate you? And still be forced to accept his charity, knowing he has you to hold at night, while I am stuck with a reverse image of the woman we both love? A woman he forced me to marry?'

'That woman is my sister, Mr Wickham. And if you hadn't tempted her to live in sin with you, you may be certain that Fitzwilliam would have left your life but also your career and your debts alone. You'd most likely be dead by now, murdered by your creditors. Now tell me honestly, Mr Wickham, how has my sister been these last few weeks?'

Changing the subject radically helps, there's nothing to gain by discussing anything else anyway.

'I didn't do it, Mrs Darcy, I swear I had nothing to do with her losing the baby! I'd come to terms with becoming a father, you were right, your mother is as flighty and she has several very worthy daughters. I told her I was looking forward to the baby, and she did magnificently, sewing little dresses, talking seriously to the most deserving of her friends, doing her own little chores in the household with Abbey. She was crushed when she lost it so suddenly and unexpectedly, and I do think her own life was in danger for a day or two, losing so much blood, the threat of infection. But you come from good stock, she rallied and has been on the mend ever since. She must be so glad to have you visit, Mrs Darcy, please do not hold my behaviour against her. There is something bothering her, though, she is quieter than I remember, and though she still adores me and wants to cuddle all the time, it's as if she is afraid to make love, I think she fears to conceive again. She won't tell me, says there's nothing wrong with her, but I don't believe it. Maybe you can find out?'

'I will try, Mr Wickham, and don't worry, Fitzwilliam won't hear about what happened here today. If I can trust you to respect me from now on, and let go of any wishes you have for me besides being your sister-in-law and a loving aunt to your children.'

Wickham gets up and bows to her, quite formally.

'Thank you, Mrs Darcy. I'll see whether there is any chance of a lunch, yet, and then I want to hear all about life in London. Lydia will love it, too.'