NOTE: I messed up and posted chapter 31 instead of 30, so I've posted 30 and reordered them. My apologies for the error.
Chapter 31: The Return Visitor
Tuesday, 24 November 1812
Rosings Park
"Elizabeth, please, come sit with me," Anne asked her. Joining her on the chaise meant expecting Anne's hands upon her belly. During Mr. Darcy's absence, Anne had become more insistent on indulging herself to feel the movement and growth of the babe.
This morning Mr. Pryce had given Anne leave to move cautiously about her room, but she must keep a constant companion within an arm's distance for assistance. Elizabeth would be that constant companion from now until the end.
"I have come to understand that I neglected to address one aspect of our arrangement. Though it was not a part of the initial agreement, your assent is vital." Anne kept her hands in her lap, while she intensely held Elizabeth's gaze. "You must make yourself available to feed the baby at least until I die."
Surprised by her own deficiency, Elizabeth chastised herself for failing to think of the need to feed the infant. She had no memory of her own mother feeding Lydia, she supposing a wet nurse had taken care of the task or Elizabeth may simply have not been in the room, as by that age she spent much of her time outside.
Before Elizabeth could think more about the prospect, Anne rushed on. "We will not be able to bring in a wet nurse. They have their own children to feed who are likely to carry illnesses. Aside from the dangers of a foreign person entering the wing, Mrs. Wilson lauded the benefits to the mother of feeding her own infant. She swore it helps the mother have a more expeditious and complete recovery, both of which are desirable for you. So you see, you must prepare yourself and expect to fill that role after delivery."
Elizabeth's mind raced. How would such a thing be explained? How could Anne justify a maiden nursing a child?
Along with the more obvious and practical questions, a lingering doubt found its way into her mind. Each day she found herself growing more attached to the child in her womb. She had tried to stop it during the time Mr. Darcy was in London but found only marginal success. Once Mr. Darcy returned, all pretense of not caring was lost. Her love for her child only increased with her increasing love for its father. Eight months ago, she had no way of knowing such affections would develop. She could now see that feeding may further affect her attachment to the child.
Her fears mattered not, because Anne gave her no choice. If Elizabeth were to disagree, Anne would remind her of the reward she was receiving. If Anne had to mention the reward, she would question the loyalty of Elizabeth's friendship. When Anne questioned the loyalty of Elizabeth's friendship, she became … unpredictable.
"I … How would … What …" Elizabeth stammered a bit before forming an intelligible answer. "How could a maiden nurse a child? Would that not raise questions?"
"Oh no! It has become the fashion among the artistic crowd to feed one's own child," Anne assured her. "Lady Lamb encouraged her friend to feed a foundling she took in, saying it would not only improve the size and solidity of her bosom but keep her from having courses or pregnancy. Mrs. Wilson has a way and will show us how it works." (1)
Still absorbing Anne's new request, she absentmindedly asked, "She thinks I should begin using it next month? Will it affect the birth?" Peeked had already told the servants? Before even obtaining Elizabeth's consent? She once again felt like a pawn in Anne's chess match.
Anne looked questioningly at Elizabeth. "You will not need to use it—your body is already prepared. I shall use it."
Just when Elizabeth had begun to become accustom to Anne's perplexing behaviors, she would again introduce some eccentricity which would confuse Elizabeth.
Anne continued to wear the stays with the pouch. Even hidden in the wing, she insisted she experience the growth along with Elizabeth. Now she would try to induce lactation. The lady was dedicated in her attempts to mimic a pregnancy, but the delusion behind the endeavor was unsettling.
Answering Anne, Elizabeth had no other choice but to agree. Throwing up a quick prayer for the success of this latest addition to her contract, Elizabeth gave her acquiescence. "I trust Mrs. Wilson has a way and Peeke will manage it."
"Peeke is wonderful, is she not?" Anne gushed. "If she had been born a man, or even of the gentry, she would be a great author and studied for generations. She has a way of sculpting words to deliver a message like no other."
Elizabeth could do naught but agree. Anne paused before moving to the next subject she wished to address. "Would you consent to feed the child until it can be weaned?"
Raising her brows as she took in this next surprise request, Elizabeth asked, "How could such a thing be done with any propriety?"
"Princess Caroline fosters the children she adopts. They go to people she trusts in her district," Anne pointed out. "Why could I not do the same? Darcy has no reason not to agree. Gentlemen do not care for infants. He will leave it in the care of a nurse until it is old enough for him to start teaching." (2)
If Darcy's attentions to the kicking in her belly indicated anything, the gentleman seemed to care deeply for infants, but Elizabeth refrained from illuminating her friend. At the same time, Elizabeth was amazed that her daydream of taking her child home with her may come true. Though now that it was a possibility, she had to wonder if it would really be best for either of them, no matter how much she already loved the child.
"This is a topic that must be discussed with Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth told Anne. "He shall be the one to decide his child's placement, I have little say in that matter."
Anne agreed, knowing that now only Darcy needed to be persuaded, as Anne was convinced she had Elizabeth's consent.
Peeke knocked on Anne's door, notifying the ladies that Anne's hour out of bed was now complete. With the assistance of both Peeke and Elizabeth, Anne shuffled back to her bed and settled between the bedclothes.
As Elizabeth excused herself to refresh, Anne called out one last bit she wished her friend to know. "Georgiana asked permission to come for Christmas. She will arrive on the Monday before."
Elizabeth nodded, now anticipating the upcoming addition to their small party.
~~~oo0oo~~~
"Anne wants what!" Darcy exclaimed.
"She wishes me to feed the babe while she lives, rather than introduce the dangers of a wet nurse," Elizabeth explained again to him. "Then she asked me to act as foster until the child is weaned."
Anne expected him to simply hand over his child for a year or more! That raised his ire as much as finding out about her jealous machinations to banish him to London while she kept Elizabeth distressed by not passing along his letters. The only reason he had not unleashed an oral attack about her Machiavellian scheming was the invalid's already precarious health.
He was still working to find an arrangement that would allow Elizabeth to live with him without scandal. While the details remained incomplete, he was now moving closer to a resolution. He needed Elizabeth's consent, but the indelicacy caused him to hesitate to ask it of her. He still had five months to address his plan.
"Anne believes I would not wish to raise my child?"
"I cannot speak for what Anne believes," Elizabeth snickered. "She leaves me quite confused." She then shared with him Anne's insistence on wearing the pouch at all times, and her newest determination to produce milk.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth incredulously. "Is her illness causing Anne to go mad?"
Again releasing another unladylike snicker, Elizabeth told him, "If it were anyone else, I would say so. But throughout the time I have lived here, Anne has always had queer moments. Sketching her character has been nigh impossible. These last weeks she has become increasingly odd, though it may be because we are both now trapped together in this wing with no other relief."
Darcy's brow furrowed. "Do you fear Anne?" Not understanding precisely what she meant when she said Anne was behaving oddly, he needed to know Elizabeth's safety was not at risk.
"Oh. No!" she exclaimed. "Anne is so attached to the wellbeing of the child that she would do nothing to hurt me. Though, I do sometimes wonder if she understands her own pregnancy is not real."
"Anne has always been odd," Darcy assured her as he protectively pulled her closer to curl against him. He loved the feeling of her back curled against his stomach. It also allowed him to more naturally drape one of his hands on her belly and the other hand on an enhanced breast. They no longer coupled every night, but most nights were spent in some pursuit of pleasure. Tonight, as Darcy felt the movements, he wondered if he should continue. What if it injured the baby? Maybe that was what happened to Lady Caroline Lamb's son? (3)
When Elizabeth reached around to begin stroking his leg, indicating her interest in escalating their activities that evening, he asked if she was sure. Clearly showing her resolve by the movement of her hand, but she suddenly stopped her movements and hesitantly asked if he no longer wished to engage in such exercises. He ensured her he absolutely felt no such reluctance, before sharing his concerns. Elizabeth unsympathetically laughed at him, reminding him of Mrs. Wilson's instructions then also reminding him of Mrs. Wilson's predictions of a larger-than-normal child due to his own great size.
Now working to contain her mirth, she said, "I find myself preferring all the assistance I can receive now to help when that time comes."
Happy to oblige her, Darcy began his attentions, many having been learned from Aunt Margaret's well-used letter. Since that eventful night started each on the exploration of the other's reactions, they had moved on to exploring their own methods of best pleasing each other. Both laughed at the baby fighting over its food before Darcy moved his treatments to her other parts, again experimenting to find what reactions he could elicit.
Once he made a complete circumnavigation of her person, she studiously did her best to return the favor while Darcy reveled in the great pleasure a fine mouth could give. (4)
~~~oo0oo~~~
Monday, 21 December 1812
Rosings Park
Everyone looked forward to the distraction of Georgiana's fortnight visit for Christmas. Spending the last four weeks in confinement began to work on Elizabeth's nerves. Not only confined indoors, without a chance of setting foot outside but also further restricted to only one wing of the house. Fortunately, the weather had cooperated by being mostly cold and wet and thus discouraging her desires to spend time outdoors. But during the four weeks, there were a few days that left her beside a window looking out longingly.
Anne's health improved slightly after her incident in November, though she was left much weaker than before. She was now strong enough to walk again, so she and Elizabeth paced the hall most days and minutely explored each room of the wing.
Mr. Darcy helped Elizabeth maintain some semblance of composure. His attentions and their mutual exertions during the evenings often atoned for her lack of exercise during the day. She gave thanks for the hidden stairway, as she had now begun to sneak down into his room for a change of scenery. And additional exercise.
Georgiana would be publicly allowed in the wing on Tuesday, the day set aside for family visitation. Thursday and Friday, as Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, would be special days to open the wing to visitors so they could spend the days in communion with family.
Elizabeth hoped Mr. Darcy would allow Georgiana up the stairs occasionally, though it would be highly improper for his sister to be seen entering or exiting his room. Of course, she could go down to Mr. Darcy's room. Maybe she could sneak into another room of the wing and meet with Georgiana? Elizabeth, a naturally social being, was accustomed to either being immersed in a lively household or escaping that lively household by being outside. She found herself desperate for company beyond Anne, Mr. Darcy, Peeke, and, once a week, Lady Catherine.
Watching from a window in her room, Elizabeth excitedly watched Georgiana's carriage pull up the Rosings Park drive. The details of the carriage were difficult to make out, and she was unable to see the passenger exiting. Making her way back to Anne's room, she sat impatiently waiting for Peeke's announcement.
Peeke burst through the door, surprising Anne and Elizabeth. With a look of desperation on her face, she announced, "Miss Bennet! Your father has returned. He refuses to leave without seeing you."
Elizabeth froze.
Her father?
What reason was there for him to be at Rosings Park? She received a letter from home just last week, including a few passages from him complaining about his wife and remaining daughters.
She looked at Anne, both ladies in shock.
The last time he showed up, Elizabeth had just learned that she was with child—it was easily hidden. Now she was great with child, there would be no way to hide what was happening.
Before either lady could construct a way of addressing Mr. Bennet's unexpected arrival, they heard voices outside the wing.
"Sir, this wing is in confinement to keep out illness. You may not enter," Lady Catherine screeched.
"I shall not leave without seeing my daughter. She may be temporarily residing with you, but might I again remind you, she is still in my custody. Now unlock this door and allow me to speak to my daughter." Elizabeth had never heard her father sound so resolute.
"No! You have no right to even be here. You are trespassing in my house, and I shall have you removed immediately!"
Elizabeth looked at Peeke, who whispered, "One footman was sent to get Mr. Darcy, another to get the magistrate before Lady Catherine realized she would need them to physically remove Mr. Bennet."
Anne looked at the door, her fatigue showing.
Mr. Bennet's tone changed to one of contrived cheerfulness. "Lady Catherine, I am simply a father, as you are a mother. I wish to ensure the health and wellbeing of my favorite daughter. I, myself, am not ill. There is no reason not to allow me to see my daughter. If I must, I will stand on the far end of the hall and speak to her." Elizabeth recognized her father moving into full debate mode. He would now put forth logical arguments to see his daughter that none in Rosings Park would be able to reasonably refute, particularly considering the subterfuge they were engaged in.
Lady Catherine could be heard sputtering.
Anne's face moved into a look of resignation as she sighed, "There is no other choice now." She stood and asked Peeke to escort her, asking Elizabeth to stay in place for now. Anne closed the door to her room as they left.
Anne had Peeke unlock and open the door of the wing as Anne presented herself to Mr. Bennet.
Mr. Bennet was visibly shocked to see the woman. Anne had waned considerably since his last visit. She, as usual, wore her pouch, so looked even more astonishing. He rudely stared at her in stunned silence.
Lady Catherine immediately commanded her daughter back to her room for fear of injury or illness, but Anne listlessly lifted her hand to stop her. "Mr. Bennet. We are again surprised by your visit. You demand to see your daughter. So be it. Go. Refresh yourself while we dress. Come back in a quarter-hour, and then we shall speak."
Anne did not wait for his reply. She turned her back to him and reentered the wing, with Peeke locking the door behind her.
Anne had Peeke order tea for when Mr. Bennet returned while she and Elizabeth dressed.
"There is no reason to hide yourself," Anne said, motioning to Elizabeth's middle. "Your father wishes to know what is happening, he shall know. He shall know all." There was a rage brewing in her eyes unlike any Elizabeth had seen before. Elizabeth could not think what her friend might be planning to do, but she did not want her father to know her condition.
As they helped each other into their more formal attire, Anne removed her pouch for the first time in weeks. When Elizabeth asked, Anne angrily told her again, "If he is so insistent to know, he shall know all."
"What do you mean, all?" Elizabeth cautiously asked.
"He shall know"—Anne gently laid her hand on Elizabeth's belly—"what you are doing to make amends for his own indolence." As Elizabeth's eyes grew, Anne was resolute. "We have no other choice now. He shall not leave without seeing you. You kindly tried to spare him this humiliation, but he would not have it." Lifting her hand and pointing her finger at the door. "But, if he so desires to know, I shall tell him all of it, including his own role. There is no way for you to stop this," she warned.
When Mr. Bennet returned, Peeke led him into the room with the ladies. Elizabeth sat in a wing-backed chair furthest from the door, a blanket covering her lap. Anne, in the seat near the door, greeted him. Both women remained seated.
Mr. Bennet looked skeptically around the room, his eyes landing on his daughter. Elizabeth saw the questions in his eyes, but she would not be the one giving him answers. She could not. No matter his neglect, he was still her father.
Anne spoke first. "Mr. Bennet. Have a seat." She waved him to a chair near her own.
Looking suspiciously at Anne, Mr. Bennet defiantly moved toward the chair closest to Elizabeth. "I am here to see my daughter."
"Mr. Bennet," Anne sighed with exasperation and ire. "You shall not leave this house pleased, but let me assure you, the blame lies with none but yourself."
Now looking suspiciously at Anne, Mr. Bennet asked cautiously what, exactly, she meant.
As Anne and Mr. Bennet stared at each other, with Anne poised to give Mr. Bennet an affront, Mr. Darcy entered the room wearing a look of disbelief, which quickly morphed into hauteur.
Mr. Bennet glared at the offensive man. "Why are you not in London? You were to leave when your scheme took," he said in disgust.
"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you," Mr. Darcy said austerely.
Mr. Bennet moved to Elizabeth, extending his hand to assist her from the chair. "Come, let us find a room where we may speak freely."
Unable to hide the anxiety in her eyes, Elizabeth looked to Anne first, then Mr. Darcy, before returning to her father. The man now imagined horrible abuses these people must be subjecting his daughter to for her to respond so timidly as this. His Elizabeth was fearless. It broke his heart to see her trembling so.
"Elizabeth," her father asked her quietly, still offering his hand.
"Mr. Bennet. Leave Elizabeth alone." Ignoring the older gentleman's raised eyebrow, Mr. Darcy now stood beside Elizabeth indicating the chair Anne had earlier offered for Mr. Bennet to take.
"Father, please forgive me," Elizabeth said sorrowfully.
"You will always have it. But, Lizzy, why would you need it?"
As her tears began to fall, both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet became more agitated.
Mr. Darcy stepped threateningly toward Mr. Bennet. "Leave her in peace and go sit down," he growled.
When Elizabeth nodded to her father, he finally acquiesced. Darcy remained standing by Elizabeth's side while Mr. Bennet sat across from Anne. "Explain yourself," he finally said.
"You failed to provide for your daughters," Anne accused while pointing a skeletal finger at him. "When I learned of Elizabeth's plight, I felt she could help my own." From there, Anne shared her tale of her illness and her need for an heir. Mr. Bennet sat in stunned silence, as he slowly began to feel the weight of what she told him, of what Elizabeth had really paid—was still yet to pay!—for Longbourn.
Dropping his head into his hands, Anne's words reverberated through his soul. His little Lizzy…! It was such a scandalous arrangement! His witty and proper daughter would never agree to something so disgraceful!
He looked at Elizabeth to confirm his own belief in her continued innocence, but her countenance—the lowered eyes, the tears, the sagging shoulders—betrayed the truth. Lowering his eyes to her middle for the first time, he saw her sacrifice.
His own shoulders dropped at the recognition of his failure before the anger overtook him. "You knew nothing of Elizabeth's plight before you deceived my daughter into your degenerate scheming!" Rising from his chair, he strode to his daughter.
Addressing his ire toward Anne. He accused, "How could you do such a thing? What kind of evil beast are you? Reducing my daughter to this!"
Anne looked back with a rage that equaled his own. With a power not seen from Anne for months, she confronted Mr. Bennet. "I am not the one that did this to her, you are. You are the one who neglected his estate. You are the one who allowed his wife to be a spendthrift. You are the one who did not put away for your daughter's future. You are the one who gambled all of your dependents' future on your wife having a son and lost!" Anne's chest was now heaving from her efforts, but she forced herself to finish. "So do not throw your anger at Elizabeth or at me, throw it back to yourself. You are the reason she is here. If you had provided for her as a loving father should, she would be decorating your own home right now. As it is, she decorates mine."
Resting a moment to catch her breath, Anne put her hands on the table to support herself before she went on. "Do not think she is unloved or friendless here. I love her dearly, and I am providing for her future. From the time she came under my protection, I have worked to ensure she shall be well cared for. She shall lack nothing in her future."
Looking briefly at the sickly lady in disgust, he turned back to Elizabeth. This time he offered his daughter no choice, taking her hand and pulling her out of the chair. Shuddering when her condition was fully exposed, he closed his eyes as he drew a deep breath to brace himself. "Come, let us escape this place now!" He began to pull her from the room, thinking only of getting his little girl to his carriage and away from this shame.
Mr. Darcy blocked his path, making himself an impenetrable wall. "She shall not leave until her agreed time," he said with finality.
Frustrated with his inability to leave with his child, Mr. Bennet scowled at the imposing man. "What matter is it of yours? Are you so concerned you shall lose the latest addition to your estate? I shall not have my Lizzy's child torn from us. We shall send you a replacement to act as heir, none will know the difference!" He protectively placed his arm around Elizabeth, defying the oddly matched pair of gentry who had entrapped his Lizzy.
"Papa, I cannot do that to …" Elizabeth softly began.
Anne interrupted her. "You shall not take my child."
Mr. Bennet scoffed, finally noticing Anne's flat dress. "This may be a revelation to you Mrs. Darcy"—unnoticed by Mr. Bennet in his ire, the other three occupants winced at the use of that name—"but for it to be your child it must come from your womb."
"The child in Elizabeth's womb is, in truth, of my family and shall not be separated from the estate it is to inherit," Anne informed him. "I shall not accept some child of lesser birth as my successor."
Again scrutinizing the lady with suspicion, Mr. Bennet glanced at Mr. Darcy who maintained his impassivity and refused to allow passage, before returning his attention to the sickly lady. "Explain yourself," he demanded.
"Elizabeth is a superior gentlewoman, a compliment to yourself whether deserving or not," Anne sneered. "I would not have my child come from anything less."
Still trying to grasp her meaning, Mr. Bennet demanded, "What do you mean the child is 'in truth, of your family'?"
"Who do you think the father is? Some servant?"
Mr. Bennet froze. Of course, there had to be a father, but with his distress over discovering Elizabeth's situation, he not yet considered who it may be. A wave of revulsion swept over him. Dear God, what had his daughter been subjected to! Did he even wish to know?
Before he could form the words to speak, Anne continued, "The father of record is the father in truth."
Again shuddering and allowing himself a bracing breath, Mr. Bennet realized of whom she spoke. Pulling his little Lizzy protectively to him, he drew his brows together in concern. He instinctively rocked her in the same manner he used to calm her as a child. Laying his head on hers, he quietly gasped, "Oh Lizzy, what have they done to you?"
Mr. Darcy watched them, maintaining his silent impassivity as Elizabeth rested her head on her father's shoulder.
Allowing the initial waves of shock and grief to pass, Mr. Bennet released his daughter as he turned to confront the man who first insulted his daughter in Meryton and now ruined her in Kent. "You!" He pointed angrily at Mr. Darcy, who narrowed his eyes indicating his readiness to engage the older gentleman. When Mr. Bennet followed with a scoff, it was unexpected. "You played me for a fool, sir. I took you at your word when you publicly declared your opinion of Lizzy as nothing more than tolerable. When I last visited Kent, I construed your treatment of Lizzy as demeaning"—again scoffing, with an increased bitterness in his tone—"I commend you, sir. When I accused you of flirting, you did nothing that allowed me to believe it might be true." Mr. Bennet gave a mocking nod to his adversary.
Mr. Darcy continued to watch Mr. Bennet cautiously, poised to strike as soon as the need should arise.
Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Mr. Bennet continued, "I saw your intimacies with Elizabeth at my home but discounted them as some aberration as they were so inconsistent with your character. When you debased Elizabeth here, in your home, the fool that I am thought you to be exhibiting your superiority. Now I recognize it more clearly." Looking the opposing man in the eye, Mr. Bennet spat the words at him in disgust. "Ownership. Bought and paid for."
Mr. Darcy face remained impassive, with a barely noticeable hint of his brows drawing together in ire. He stayed silent, allowing Mr. Bennet his anger.
"Come, Lizzy, I shall take you back to a place where you are loved," Mr. Bennet said as he determinedly tried to shove past Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Darcy refused to let him pass. "Elizabeth does not leave. You shall not take my child." Trying to introduce reason into their discussion to attempt to calm Mr. Bennet, Mr. Darcy reminded him, "If you take her home now, her condition will ruin not only Elizabeth but also the rest of your family."
Outrage again boiled in Mr. Bennet at hearing Mr. Darcy confirm all that had been suggested a few minutes earlier. Enraged that his own incompetence to provide for his family and inability to help his daughter was now being thrown in his face, Mr. Bennet could only respond by lashing out. "I care not for the opinions of my foolish neighbors. We have our home. Once she returns, there is no way to prove you are the father. You are married to that woman"—he waved a hand toward Anne—"If she is not the one carrying the child, then the child is not yours." Again scoffing, he said, "The mother is always certain, the father—well, that is why men want virgins to bear their heirs, is it not? They hide their ladies away from other men, so they know their heir is theirs."
At this Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow in challenge, quickly losing not only what little respect he held for the man, but also his temper. With not a hint of ambiguity, Mr. Darcy warned him, "I shall ruin you if you attempt to remove Elizabeth from my care." Closely watching Mr. Bennet for a few more moments, Mr. Darcy continued, "You did your part to ruin your family long before I ever knew of the Bennets of Hertfordshire. Do not forget, Longbourn is not secured for your family yet. That does not happen until April."
"Papa," Elizabeth looked at him in desperation. She gently begged of him to relent. "I knew full well what I agreed to. Please. Do not make my shame worse."
Looking helplessly at his daughter, Mr. Bennet conceded. Turning to the austere man and his infirm lady, Mr. Bennet asked if he could gain a private space to speak with his daughter. Mr. Darcy and Anne looked at each other before agreeing and then excused themselves from the room.
When the door closed, Elizabeth finally allowed her tears to flow openly. She looked at her father in agony. "Oh, Papa! I am so selfish! I never once thought you may learn of my disgrace. How you must despise me!"
The words stabbed Mr. Bennet's heart as he calmed himself. "Now, now, Lizzy. I could never despise you." He again embraced her with the soothing rocking motion as her feelings overflowed. His own eyes were wet, not only from his daughter's disgrace but also from his own.
Once she was able to settle her tears, he helped her into a chair as he took the one across from her. Reaching for her hand, he apologized to her. "I have many regrets in my life, Lizzy, but this overshadows them all. My indolence drove you to such a sacrifice. I deeply regret not standing firm and forcing your mother to economize so many years ago. I could have saved to ensure your future, and you would have had no reason to resort to … this." He motioned to the door, indicating the people who had left rather than his daughter's increasing.
"Papa, I made the choice." Though she would now readily admit she could never have understood much of what was involved before she began. Rather than cry again, Elizabeth chose to lighten the conversation with a dry bit of humor. "Remember, I made my decision while staying with Charlotte. I saw her choice as little different from my own, except I would only need to spend a year rather than a lifetime."
Mr. Bennet gave a hint of a smile to reward his daughter's efforts, but there was nothing he could say to justify leaving her open to such machinations.
Deciding he deserved to know all, Elizabeth told him the rest. "There is more than just Longbourn as a reward for this. I also receive fifteen thousand pounds for a dowry or to invest in the estate."
His jaw dropping at so large a sum, once Mr. Bennet recovered himself, he could not help but wonder, "You are making such a great sacrifice to secure your mother, who has always cared more for herself than any other, and your fainéant sisters, only to be saddled with their care."
Giving her father an encouraging smile, she assured him, "I can manage."
After a few minutes of silence, Mr. Bennet asked, "You were staying with Mrs. Collins when this was decided. I can only wonder if it was not that scandalous letter that encouraged you," he reluctantly teased.
Elizabeth let out a small laugh, as she ensured him she had no knowledge of the scandalous letter when she agreed. Growing more serious she shared, "I only knew of your accident and the uncertainty of your survival. Mr. Collins was so keen to take over Longbourn, indicating he would immediately displace us." Squeezing her father's hand, she implored him to understand, "I was scared, Papa. Scared for all of us. I could see no other way when I agreed."
Lowering his head again at learning it was his imprudence at the core of every reason that caused Elizabeth to accept her current situation, Mr. Bennet steadied himself before returning to his daughter's lighter tone. "So Mr. Darcy? Could she not find one who would be more pleasant? You wrote of the amusing Colonel, the son of the earl? Would he not suit her aristocratic ambitions even better than Darcy?"
Forcing a smile at her father's awkward attempt at humor, she tried to find an appropriate answer. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is an entertaining gentleman, but Anne felt him unworthy to trust her estate to. That left Mr. Darcy as the only other option."
Mr. Bennet shook his head in disgust, before looking his daughter in the eyes and cautiously asking, "Tell me, Lizzy. Has he been kind to you?"
Shocked that her father would ask so indiscreet a question, and not knowing quite how to answer, Elizabeth turned a number of responses in her mind before deciding which to give her father.
Not understanding the reason for her pause, Mr. Bennet narrowed his eyes, his anger again rising. He stood, demanding, "Show me your arms."
Elizabeth could not understand such an unusual request from her father, but removed her shawl and raised the sleeves of her gown as far as she could. Her father looked closely at each arm as well as any other areas not covered by clothing. Not yet satisfied, he asked, "Do you have injuries anywhere on your person?" Still confused, Elizabeth was able to quickly assure her father she had no physical trauma. Only slightly appeased, he promised her, "If he harms you, I shall kill him. Even if it means my own death to do it."
Appalled when she finally understood what her father was suggesting, Elizabeth quickly disabused him. "Papa! You need have no such worries. He has been a perfect gentleman throughout."
Scoffing, Mr. Bennet reminded his daughter if he were a 'perfect gentleman' they would not be having this conversation, before realizing the hurt his words inflicted. He apologized for his error. "You hold none of my censure in this, Lizzy. Who should suffer but myself? For once in my life, I feel how much I have been to blame." Seeing Elizabeth's continued discomfort, he ended the topic. "It is good to hear he is kinder than his countenance would imply."
Turning his concern to that of her safety, he asked about the care being given her.
"I have a wonderful midwife, Mrs. Wilson. She seems very knowledgeable. Charlotte's aunt wrote another letter to describe pregnancy and childbirth. Mrs. Wilson's advice is very much the same. Right now, Mrs. Wilson feels all is well. She expects delivery in early March."
"That Aunt Margaret lady has become quite the celebrated writer," Mr. Bennet dryly quipped.
Elizabeth bantered before considering her words. "Yes, she is certainly an expert and"—Elizabeth lifted a brow and added emphasis in her voice—"well knows the benefits of what she writes."
Mr. Bennet dropped his head at the implications. Raising his hand in defeat, he begged her to cease. "There are some things a father need never know of his daughter." He decided to return to the more pressing concern of Lizzy's care. "So you are well cared for?"
"Yes, Papa," relieved at the return to a more innocent topic, she continued, "They are very concerned about my health and the health of the baby. Often times, Anne is at the visits with me, but Mr. Darcy has been at all but two visits to ensure all is as it should be. He is very attentive to every detail."
"Odd. So the dour Mr. Darcy has turned into a doting father. I can not imagine him monitoring the details of pregnancy, I've always thought that women's work. Must you report to him every day?"
Elizabeth smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Yes," she laughed—but not for the reason her father assumed.
"Really? What does he want to know?" Mr. Bennet had never known a man who took so much interest in a pregnancy. He himself knew little of it, even though his wife had been through seven.
Elizabeth, regretting her earlier quip, quickly answered, "Oh, just how much the baby moves and how much it has grown. The same things the midwife monitors on her visits."
"How many people know?"
"Myself, Anne, Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine. Colonel Fitzwilliam was here when Anne suggested it, and he told his parents, the Earl and Countess Matlock. The doctor, the midwife, and the maid. Mr. Darcy's sister accidentally learned of it during her summer visit. And now you. So twelve people in all, all of whom have a vested interest in keeping it hidden."
As the father of so many children, Mr. Bennet may not be particularly knowledgeable about childbirth, but he knew more than the other gentry in the house. He asked his daughter more of the details: how they were keeping it hidden, what about the pain of birth, what if the child has problems, what about her recovery, what if Anne should die before the birth.
Elizabeth answered them all as she and Anne had so long ago decided.
He was not convinced. "If she dies first, they will say the babe was born early while they keep it hidden until strong enough to survive? How will they know what sex to say the child is if it has not been born? How will they name it?"
Elizabeth paused. She had not thought of that. "I do not know."
"How will they keep this secret if they must bring in a wet nurse to feed it?"
"I shall feed the child until Anne dies. It is supposed to help my recovery."
Raising his eyebrows, he asked how they planned to explain that outside of Rosings Park. She revealed Mrs. Wilson's plans. Skeptical, Mr. Bennet warned her against feeding the child. "It shall make it much more difficult for you to separate. Your mother nursed Jane and Lydia. She had child-bed fever after your birth, so we hired a wet nurse. She enjoyed the freedom the nurse offered so used one for the next two girls. After having three pregnancies in rapid succession, she decided to feed the last one to keep from having another."
Her father's claims supported Elizabeth's concern that feeding the baby would cause her more heartbreak, but she no longer had another option.
"What about the baby? Will you ever see the baby again?"
Elizabeth paused, but as nothing had yet been firmly decided about the child's placement, she told her father, "I have no reason to believe I shall see the child again once I leave here."
Mr. Bennet nodded in compassion. "It will be difficult, but I believe that is for the best. I, for one, never want to see it. I do not want to see my little girl's eyes on the face of a child I have no right to acknowledge."
"I never thought of that, Papa." Elizabeth grew more melancholy realizing the truth of what he said. She had not allowed herself to think of it, but just as she had some features of her Mama and some features of her Papa, her child would combine her own features with those of Mr. Darcy. How would it feel to accidentally stumble upon one who resembles your beloved child yet have no leave to speak to them?
"It shall be for the best if you never see the baby. Then you shall not grow attached and it shall be easier to give it away." He said kindly. "Once you give birth, you should go somewhere else to recover. Come home to Longbourn as soon as you can. Write me, I shall leave that day to bring you home. You shall be protected and leave all of this behind." Again tears were welling in his eyes.
Elizabeth was too choked up to speak. She and her father sat in silence, both full of their own thoughts until Anne entered to escort Mr. Bennet out of the wing where he would spend his evening in his assigned rooms.
~~~oo0oo~~~
(1) This part is a product of my imagination. Lady Caroline Lamb did breastfeed her son and Lord Byron initially lauded her for it, but I do not know if it was ever a trend. I see Byron and Lady Lamb as Regency hipsters. As for the benefits of breastfeeding to the mother, they are documented, but not every woman will respond in the same way. However, if it sacrifices the mother's wellbeing, the benefits do not outweigh the health of mom. I did a bit of research, it appears some women can initiate lactation without pregnancy through stimulation, but it is not a particularly easy process. I have been warned there may be some controversy about the breastfeeding part of this story. I only ask: Please, no ugly or judgmental comments related to breastfeeding. I did it for my children, including the twins, but I also know many women who have struggled. In the end, I hope we can all agree everyone is better off if we support one another in our choices rather than judge one another.
Note from 2021: An additional aside - I initially had it where E breastfeeding was going to be not particularly announced, but also not hidden. Now I realize that's completely insane of me. So if you see that later, where I haven't cleaned it up, please ignore it. It's something I should have edited out.
(2) Fostering children out was a common thing for the more affluent during this time. Jane Austen herself was sent to a foster at the age of three months. She did not return home until she turned two and "could be regarded as a rational being." Her parents were considered good and loving parents as one or both visited the baby every day. I admit to writing this from a more twenty-first century perspective as that type of thinking is so foreign to my own experience, it is difficult for me to comprehend. (Google 'Baby Jane Austen's First Two Years' for the article this info came from.)
(3) I feel like I am picking on Lady Caroline Lamb, but she is interesting. Her body type was not well suited to childbearing. Her first child, the son she breastfed, was born with severe mental problems. This is a joke I have heard many times over from men—thinking they are capable of causing brain damage in a fetus with their manliness. No way have men not been claiming this one for centuries. It's just too easy. (Also, just to clarify, many years ago, they did think sex during pregnancy was a bad thing.)
(4) Groan, it's bad, I know, but I could not resist. Blame 'IAmElizaBennet' on AHA, she issued a bj challenge I decided to take it up with a one liner only to find out she wanted a 'blow by blow' description.
Another note from 2021: We are almost finished. There are 39 chapters, but the last 3 are "bonus" chapters. Thanks for sticking with me! I apologize for not being able to return comments. This has been an absolutely insane semester and I felt most would prefer my posting regularly vs replying to comments.
FYI: Anne is partially based on my mother. She's the oldest of many (10) children and has no respect for boundaries/personal space with close family. She from a generation where women were sidelined, so learned at an early age to achieve her goals through manipulation. Often they are "meant for the best" but ethically questionable, IMHO.