Chapter 15: Turnabout Is Fair Play
15 April – 23 April 1812
In the weeks that followed, each member of the Rosings Park household settled into their own routine
Darcy and Elizabeth spent their nights together, although never again with so much anger. Once they arose, Darcy would exit the front door of Anne's wing, returning to his rooms to dress. He would then take a horseback ride to free his mind while surveying every inch of the estate in detail. Afterward, he would breakfast with the ladies. The bulk of his days were spent in keeping up his correspondence and reviewing the Rosings Park ledgers in greater detail than his previous visits had allowed.
He avoided the ladies during tea as the Collins' frequently joined them, but he was present at night to begrudgingly escort Anne to dinner. When the conversations between himself and Elizabeth became too lively—even when they said more than a few words to each other—Aunt Catherine coughed or growled and silence would once again reign at the dinner table. The four of them would then gather in the parlor after dinner with Elizabeth playing the pianoforte. Lady Catherine ensured they did not enjoy themselves. Then everyone retired in the manner that maintained the ruse.
Anne occasionally stopped him on his way to Elizabeth's room to ask about their progress. He never knew what to say. How would one measure such progress except with the confirmation of a child? Anne was highly interested in knowing how often they had intimate relations, but Darcy simply answered as tersely as possible before moving on.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Elizabeth's days became equally routine. After Darcy left, she and Anne frequently dressed together. Although Anne would never be as near to her as Jane or Charlotte, the young ladies started to develop a friendship. Elizabeth could never quite name it, but something about Anne prevented a full and open one. She went for morning walks with Annerequently ending with a visit to Hunsford. The women chatted over a cup of tea before returning to the great house.
After breakfast, the women endeavored in some employment. Elizabeth practiced on the pianoforte, worked on needlepoint, or read until they gathered for afternoon tea. If Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins removed themselves to discuss an upcoming sermon or tenant needs, Mrs. Collins felt free to talk. She entertained the other ladies with the foibles of unnamed parishioners and Mr. Collins' absurdities.
During one of the morning visits to Hunsford, Charlotte shared her belief that she might be with child. While looking forward to a little one to care for (and giving her a reason to cease intimate relations with Mr. Collins), she did not look forward to going through such an event without her mother or aunt beside her. Charlotte mentioned it would be helpful to have a friend going through a similar experience, thinking of Anne's attempt to have a child. Elizabeth went to look out the window, hiding her trepidation. Anne, also surprised by Charlotte's suggestion, cleared her throat before responding.
"While I would dearly love to share such an experience with you, I will not be able to. I will be confined to my rooms for protection. I do not wish to become ill, it may cause me to die before the child can be born." Both Charlotte and Elizabeth looked at her in shock. Anne spoke with no misery or malice, just a statement of fact.
"My friend," Anne continued, "you would do better to travel back to your mother during your confinement. There you will have the experienced women of your family to help you." Charlotte thought for a moment.
"It would be easier to spend my confinement with women I know and trust."
"It would be preferable to being subjected to Mother's guidance," Anne encouraged, patting her hand.
Smiling gratefully, Charlotte sensibly responded, "I do not yet know if I am, I only suspect. Once I know with certainty, we can decide further. It also depends on William's willingness to allow me to leave."
Anne laughed. "Mr. Collins will let you go when Mother recommends it." Charlotte smiled in acknowledgment.
"I hope I am wrong. While I look forward to having a child, I prefer staying here while Eliza is at Rosings Park."
As they returned to Rosings Park, Anne turned to Elizabeth. "If Mrs. Collins is with child it would be a great blessing to us. I have been concerned about how we would remain separated from Mrs. Collins during the confinement until after you recover. This would present the perfect solution. I will have Mother suggest that she return home until the child is six months old for the safety of the baby and the mother."
Uncomfortably, Elizabeth agreed.
~~~oo0oo~~~
When Anne's doctor arrived for his regularly scheduled visit, Darcy asked him into the study under the pretext of learning more about Anne's condition. Dr. Pryce launched into the details of her illness, telling Darcy more specifics of what Anne had already told him. She had black humors—the doctor called them tumors—and they would continue to grow larger until they consumed her. With the physician's graphic description, Darcy finally understood the extent of Anne's illness. Having originally asked the doctor to learn more about pregnancy, he felt a wave of guilt at his self-centeredness.
Unaware of Darcy's motivation for this meeting, Dr. Pryce suspected Anne's husband knew nothing of the advanced state of her disease thus he pressed on. "Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy has maybe a year. Two, if she is lucky. I am being forward, but I would like to know how things are progressing on creating an heir."
Darcy looked up, bothered with being asked so frequently and so clinically about the fruits of his concupiscence. However, his need for information kept his attention focused. "I would like to ask you about that. How long does it take the woman to become with child?"
"It's difficult to say. As Miss Bennet is a good age and in good health, it should happen quickly."
"Is quickly a day, a week, a year?"
"Most times, within a few months."
A few months, Darcy considered. Would Anne survive long enough? "How long after she shows signs until she gives birth?"
"Depending on when she starts showing signs, from five to eight months. Some women know earlier than others, particularly those that have been through it before."
So we may not know for some time, he thought. Affecting a casual interest, Darcy nodded, "What are the signs?"
"Their courses usually cease. Some awaken feeling violently ill. Heightened sensitivity to taste and smell. They may be fatigued. The quickening is the only sure way to know, once that happens it will be another five months or so."
Again nodding in understanding, Darcy hesitated. "Once she becomes pregnant, what then?"
The doctor furrowed his brows. "Mrs. Wilson, the midwife, and I use a different philosophy than many of our peers. However, our success in keeping mothers and infants alive has yielded less than half the deaths of more traditional methods. We have found both woman and infant do best when mother-to-be is encouraged to exercise and eat well up until birth. We also encourage bright and airy rooms to keep her from becoming overheated. These we will use for Miss Bennet.
"However, to keep the servants from malicious gossip, Mrs. Darcy will be confined, and Peeke will speak of the usual treatments for pregnancy. By that time, your wife will likely be bedridden anyway, and her room sealed against disease."
Death. Everyone had family and friends who were touched by death through childbirth, but he had not considered it as a risk for Elizabeth before now. Growing concerned, he asked the doctor how many women succumbed in childbed.
"Using traditional methods, one in every five. Using my methods, one in every twenty."
"Then we shall use your methods," Darcy avowed. Cautiously, he asked, "Will lying with her once she is with child harm her or the infant?"
Mr. Pryce smiled. He understood the gentleman likely wished to continue the regular conjugal relations accompanying the Rosings Solution. A man like Darcy would appreciate the privacy of the arrangement. "I have never known it to cause a problem, even until the end. Some women even indicate there is greater pleasure during pregnancy."
"Is that so?" Darcy perked. Aunt Margaret's letter had said as much.
"Mrs. Wilson will accompany me on my next visit. She will know more intimate details as both a woman who has her own children and as a midwife." Chuckling a bit, he said "A word of warning: Once you get her started, she will gladly tell you more than you ever wanted to know."
Escorting Mr. Pryce to his carriage, Darcy indicated he looked forward to meeting Mrs. Wilson at the next visit.
~~~oo0oo~~~
That night, at the servants' dinner downstairs, the chatter was of Dr. Pryce's visit and what it meant. Peeke, keeping her responsibility to manage Rosings Park's gossip, informed them it was just the doctor's usual visit, although he did declare Anne still likely to have a child.
A footman chimed in, reporting he overheard Mr. Darcy tell the doctor to start bringing the midwife after this visit. They all gave thanks that Mr. Darcy had married Anne while there was still a chance.
That was when young Peter spoke up. At eighteen and driven by the animal urges of one of that age, he expressed sympathy for Mr. Darcy. He could only be disgusted by the idea of doing such a thing with Mrs. Darcy, no matter how rich she was. The footman reminded him it was one of the benefits of not being rich—they could choose their women without fortune being a factor. Peter, unable to get past the repugnancy of Mrs. Darcy, laughingly suggested he saw Mr. Darcy watching Miss Bennet walk the garden while the man appeared to be doing his duty upstairs with his sick wife. Peeke quickly shushed him, strongly suggesting any more such talk would cost him his job. She attested to Darcy doing his job as appropriate, she was the one changing the bed linens after all!
All discussion turned to the servants' hopes for a quick pregnancy and healthy delivery and remained there for the rest of the meal. Peter quickly forgot his impertinent suggestions, moving on to thoughts of an attractive young woman who recently moved from Town to stay with her uncle in the village.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Friday 24 April 1812 - Tuesday 28 April 1812
Elizabeth had felt the symptoms the day before, so she was not surprised when her courses began on Friday morning. After telling Anne, Elizabeth requested a tray in her room. Anne, while disappointed, was not overly concerned. "I'll tell Mother after breakfast. It will spare you her hysterics."
At midday, Darcy returned to Elizabeth's room using the hidden stairs. The earlier precautions had become habit, but with Anne downstairs, his visiting the upper wing would arouse suspicion.
"Anne said you were not feeling well," he frowned, not waiting for an invitation to sit in the chair beside her. "You did not seem unwell when I left."
Uncomfortable speaking of such things with a gentleman, she tried to find delicate words to make him understand. "I am not ill, and it is not particularly unexpected. I just feel better staying in my room today."
Darcy decided females were simply bewildering creatures when it came to their well-being. Elizabeth was unwell but not ill, and "it" was not unexpected, but staying in her room would make her feel better. This made no sense to him, but he deferred to her, excusing himself to continue with his day.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Anne, claiming fatigue, retired early that night. As Darcy escorted her to her room, she told him she was too fatigued for him to visit her chambers thus bid him good night at the door to her wing.
Going to Elizabeth's room, Anne laughed about her mother's reaction as she told her friend, "It was a good idea to stay in your room today. I had to threaten Mother to keep her from coming up here to abuse you." Shaking her head at her mother's foolishness, Anne tittered acerbically. "I reminded her how long it took her to conceive me. Mother fainted dead away at the prospect. Thankfully, we managed to get her to her room and dismiss the servants before she awoke. She started crying, knowing if it takes that long she is for the hedgerows." Anne rolled her eyes dismissively. It was not proper or ladylike, but she now felt such intimacy with Elizabeth that proprietary seemed cumbersome. "I finally calmed her and convinced her to let you be. We are doing everything we can do, but if she goes storming around the house, she will ruin it all."
A relieved Elizabeth thanked her. She had spent the day dreading Lady Catherine's imminent arrival and admonishments.
Anne confided in Elizabeth that she felt her mother was the most likely to compromise their scheme. Oddly enough, Anne was able to use the peculiar house arrangement her mother had had with Aunt Christine to make Lady Catherine finally treat the situation with delicacy. Lady Catherine had understood that their arrangement, if known, would ruin her friend. Thus she wisely kept silent. Anne reminded her mother how much this arrangement was like her own. If Christine had been able to bear children, Lady Catherine would have been spared the necessity of having Anne herself. When Lady Catherine heard that, she heartily agreed and became, for her, more agreeable. "Do not be surprised if she refers to you as Christine occasionally," Anne laughed.
Before Anne returned to her chambers for the night, she let Elizabeth know, "I told Darcy to stay in his rooms, so you should have a peaceful night to yourself."
Elizabeth tucked herself in and blew out the last candle. Relishing having her bed to herself, she spread out her limbs to take up as much room as possible.
Soon finding that arms and legs splayed was not a comfortable position to sleep in, she found a more natural position on her side curled up a bit. As she relaxed into slumber, she realized this was the position she had adopted after moving to Rosings Park, as it was one of Mr. Darcy's preferred sleeping positions. He would wrap around her with his arm draped across her body and his hand resting somewhere intimate on her person. The position itself was comfortable, but lacking Mr. Darcy's warmth and touch, she found it wanting. Flipping over to her stomach, the position she slept in when sharing a bed with Jane, she felt better. She missed the warmth of her sister next to her, but she and Jane were not infrequently separated by visits of one or the other to the Gardiners. Now comfortably situated, she drifted off to sleep.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Not understanding Anne's remark about being too fatigued for him to visit that night—really, why would Anne's fatigue matter?—Darcy again took the hidden stairway to Elizabeth's room, bringing a bottle of wine to help with whatever it was making her feel unwell.
Opening the door, he found her chambers dark with the exception of the moonlight coming through the windows. Everyone had retired early tonight, so he had not waited until eleven to go to her, but where was she? He considered whether she might have again gone to the library as he started looking around her chambers. She had stayed in her rooms all day, why would she go to the library this late? He finally found her asleep in her bed. She was not feeling well today, he thought, maybe she just needs more rest. Feeling guilty at thinking she had disappeared again, he undressed and slid into the empty side of the bed. Listening to the regular rhythm of her breathing, he considered, Maybe I have been keeping her up too late. If that is the case, he would let her sleep soundly tonight so she would be well-rested in the morning. Giving her a bit of space between them in the bed so he would not disturb her, Darcy fell asleep.
When he awoke sometime later, the moon was higher in the sky. Elizabeth had snuggled beside him with her back tucked along his side. Sneaking his arm under her head, he rolled to his side to enfold her as he went back to sleep.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Saturday, 25 April 1812
As she awoke, Elizabeth sighed. Something warm was pressing on her lower back helping to alleviate the ache. It took a few minutes for her to realize that the warm something was Mr. Darcy's bare belly.
The warmth may be soothing, but the water closet would not wait. She tried to slip out of the bed without disturbing him, but as she was sitting up, she felt him pull her back. "Where are you going so early?" he yawned.
Moving his hands from her waist, she told him it was to the same room he found relief in visiting each morning. Chuckling, he let her go and watched as she walked away in her nightclothes. Thinking he much preferred watching her walk to the water closet unclothed, he settled himself back in the bed.
She took an unusually long time, so by the time she returned, he was much in sympathy with her and moved to pay a visit himself. Elizabeth looked at him in horror as he went toward the door. "You can not go in there!" Then recomposing herself, she reminded him, "It has not been cleaned yet. Let me call for Peeke."
Darcy considered a moment if it was worth waiting or not, then decided since it was so important to Elizabeth, he would wait. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.
Once morning needs were attended to and Peeke finished with her duties, Darcy tried to call Elizabeth back to bed. She looked at him curiously. "Sir, I do not understand why you are here. Anne said she told you to stay in your room for the night."
"Anne told me she was fatigued and did not want me to visit. What does that have to do with you?"
Struggling not to roll her eyes at him, she asked, "Do you normally visit Anne in the evenings?"
"No," he admitted, "I thought it an odd thing for her to say, but … oh." He may have become accustomed to most of the things they did to keep up appearances, but, as someone who despised artifice, the equivocations were still a challenge. "You do not look like you still feel poorly."
Not sure how to answer, she tried to let him gently understand there was no need for him to visit for the next few nights. Gathering her brow, she asked, "Sir, do you know how long I have been at Rosings?"
Wondering how the two related, Darcy calculated. She arrived on Easter, March twenty-ninth. It's now April twenty-fifth. "A bit under a month."
She nodded significantly at him to see if he would remember. He did not. "Sir, I know that I am not with child yet."
Nothing. He still looked at her as if she was mad, although a bit concerned. "That is… disappointing. How do you know that?"
At that moment, Anne walked in the door. Displeased at seeing Darcy unclothed in the bed, she berated him, "Darcy. I told you to return to your chambers last night."
"I did," he retorted grinning, "There are these stairs attached to my chamber…"
Anne was not amused. "Give her some privacy for the next few days. She is not with child. You start again once she's done."
"Done with what?"
Anne threw up her hands in frustration at him. "Are you daft? The bleeding. Leave her in peace until it finishes."
Ahhhh! So that is how all those fit together. "I stayed last night, and it did not hurt anything," he noted. "Is there some reason I can not spend time here in the evenings?" As Elizabeth was the only person in the house he wanted to spend time with, being completely denied her company may drive him mad.
Looking at Elizabeth but unable to read her countenance, Anne left the decision to her friend. Narrowing her eyes at Darcy, she warned him to not impose himself on Elizabeth as she stormed out the door.
Looking out the window, Darcy saw the sun lifting higher in the sky. Making his way back to his room, he asked, "Would you mind if I visit with you tonight? My hall is quite empty."
Elizabeth decided she would not mind.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Sunday, 27 April 1812
After a long day spent in the company of his aunt, Darcy anticipated ending his day with Elizabeth. He brought a fine bottle of wine with him for them to enjoy. As he exited the hidden stairs, he saw her busily setting up a chessboard close to the fire. Ahh, this evening will make up for the exceptionally dreadful day, he thought. "Good evening, Elizabeth. Chess match?"
"I thought you may enjoy a match. We have the full moon to light the board," she smiled up at him.
Coming closer, he nodded his pleasure. Offering her a glass of wine as he served a liberal one for himself, they began. With the game and the wine as a relaxing backdrop, Darcy started openly discussing his frustration with Lady Catherine's officiousness. Elizabeth offered a fair match, a sympathetic ear, and her well-placed wit to distract him. The warmth and ease the wine brought on induced Darcy to indulge in more than his usual couple of glasses.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth found the wine helped ease the soreness in her back and the other uncomfortable sensations that occur, thus she drank a bit more than she was wont.
After the first bottle had been emptied, Darcy happily remembered the forgotten bottle from last night. Thus, the two quaffed an extra glass or two of wine, not realizing the deleterious effects of such an action until they stood. Ungracefully, they stumbled to the bed, fumbling to help each other to undress.
"Madam"—Darcy hiccuped seriously while unbuttoning her robe—"I know I drank tonight to forget the tortures of spending time in Lady Catherine's"—he hiccuped again—"company, but you've consumed more too. Why is that?"
"It takes away the pain that comes with the unwellness."
Drawing his brows in confusion, he asked, "You said it did not hurt."
Elizabeth laughed at his silliness. "It is not pain like that—it is more of a soreness, as if you had spent the day before doing heavy work."
"Where does it hurt?"
She pointed to her lower back. He lit up, telling her his father would have pains in his back after too much time on a horse. A doctor showed him how to help relieve the elder Darcy's discomfort. "You must lie on your stomach."
When she did, he climbed to straddle her, sitting on the backs of her thighs. He first rubbed his hands together to warm them, and then pressed them on her, allowing the warmth from his hands to go into her sore back. After a few minutes, he started moving his hands to rub and press on her back. As his hands started moving, Elizabeth could not help but to gasp and groan a bit, a combination of additional pains the rubbing caused along with the relief the ministrations offered. Darcy continued. His father would sometimes make strange noises, but the sounds she made were ones he recognized from their other nightly encounters. He could not help but find arousal in such a position, with his hands on her in such a manner, with her making such noises. Leaning forward along her back, he buried his face in her hair, placing his mouth next to her ear, grinning as he asked, "Is it better?"
Releasing a satisfied groan accompanied by a matching grin, she assured him she did now feel better.
Straightening his legs out, he pressed himself on top of her back. Nuzzling her neck a few moments, he moved to her side so as not to crush her. As he started osculating and caressing, she reluctantly pulled away, archly reminding him of her condition. As they could not be expected to couple at this time, she suggested, in her bibulous state, that she could practice using Aunt Margaret's suggestions for relieving a man.
Confused, he wondered aloud, "But my back does not hurt."
"I do not remember Aunt Margaret mentioning anything about helping sore backs," she giggled. "I was not talking about your back." Grinning wickedly, she continued, "I have been wondering what happens for you."
Beginning to comprehend what she meant, but even in his libidinous state not willing to suggest such activities, he cautiously probed. "When … ?"
"When you make your face." She then made an exaggerated version of his climax expression. Thankfully, she did not include the noises.
"I do not look like that!" She simply looked up at him, still grinning. "Do I?" She nodded but waited for his answer. "That is at the peak of sensation when the seed releases. And you, my dear,"—he pointed at her with a slight hiccup—"make some pained faces as well. It is why I reacted as I did that first time."
She laughed out loud. "I do, do I not? But I am unable to stop it."
He pulled her to him again, "Nor should you. That is what makes it so nice." Holding her close, he moved to kiss her but only made contact with the crown of her head as she was looking down. "What are you doing?"
She looked up at him with excitement in her eyes as she moved down his body. Once her face was close to his midsection, she wrapped her fingers around him. He groaned. "I want to see what happens for you. You watched me. I hear men only receive one part in ten, so what is their measly one part like?"
"You really wish to do this?" She again looked up and nodded. He showed her what to do. He greatly enjoyed her ministrations until completion, whereupon she was surprised to see the force at which his seed erupted and the distance it traveled.
"I thought you said it spilled. This is more of a…gushing."
He chuckled. "I never thought of it before, but I believe you are correct." He reached down to pull her up so that her face was to his, kissing her before going to get a washcloth to clean his chest and belly. After cleaning himself, he curled around her as they both succumbed to a drunken sleep.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Monday 28 April 1812
Both felt miserable upon awakening. Peeke brought them tea before Anne arrived to berate Darcy.
"Anne, pray, leave me in peace," Darcy groaned sliding deeper into the bedclothes. "I am ill this morning. It's perverse enough to have you walk into my room uninvited while I am still abed."
"It is not your room." Anne put her hands on her hips. "You were supposed to leave Elizabeth in peace, but I find you here."
Elizabeth looked up, "Anne, dear, I told him he could stay. He did not importune me."
Seeing the empty bottles, Anne understood. Sighing with a slight smile, she commiserated with them. "I shall stay in my rooms today. Peeke will send word that we are all feeling unwell."
"Thank you." Darcy slid his head beneath the covers as he and Elizabeth suffered through their morning in quiet misery together.
Anne left, unbeknownst to the pair, wearing a wide grin on her face.
~~~oo0oo~~~
Note: the word "massage" didn't enter the English language until the 1860s, which is why I didn't use it in describing Darcy massaging Elizabeth's back.