Chapter 3

June 1812

Elizabeth was feeling even better the next day. She had enjoyed looking through Pemberley's library the day before. There were so many books she doubted she could ever read them all, and Darcy had shown her some that he said she had purchased. She could not remember having read them, but she supposed that she could enjoy them again.

"Do we spend many hours reading here together?" she asked.

"You spend many hours indeed," he replied.

"And you with me?"

He hesitated. "I spend some evenings here with you, yes."

She had been tired after that and he had escorted her back to her chamber. The next day, the Gardiners were due to arrive sometime in the evening, and so in the morning Darcy showed her more of the house. She viewed the portrait gallery, and was able to observe how much Mr. Darcy took after his father. She also saw a portrait of Georgiana which had been painted some years before. She looked like her mother, Lady Anne, who was also golden-haired and blue-eyed.

Elizabeth was excited when she heard that a carriage was making its way up to Pemberley House. Darcy helped her descend the stairs carefully, since she was still a bit unsteady on her legs.

When the door opened and the butler, Mr. Reynolds, announced Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet, Elizabeth rose to meet them and give them each hugs. They looked relieved at once to see she was on her feet.

"We have been so worried about you, Lizzy," said Mrs. Gardiner. "We came here as quickly as we could, but I should have known Mr. Darcy would take good care of you."

"He has indeed," agreed Elizabeth, turning to smile at her husband. He had come up next to her to greet her relations, and she was happy to see that he was polite and friendly with the Gardiners, whom he might have looked down on because of their roots in trade.

Elizabeth also greeted Mary with a hug. Her sister was looking different than she remembered. For one, she was wearing a hairstyle that flattered her. For another, the yellow dress she wore was more attractive than the severe dark blue and grey gowns she had used to wear. She wondered what had happened to change Mary.

"I am so glad you are well, Lizzy," Mary said. "But come, you must sit. You are pale. You are still recovering."

"I am just so happy to see you!" Elizabeth said, but she followed Mary to a chair. "I am still having some headaches, I admit, but overall I am much better!"

Mr. Darcy was asking Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner about their journey, and then asked if they would like to refresh themselves before they had tea.

"Yes, that would be welcome," said Mr. Gardiner. "We can wash off the dust from the road."

Mrs. Reynolds led the guests up to the rooms that had been prepared for them, and Elizabeth waited eagerly for them to come down again. Darcy urged her to drink another cup of willow bark tea, for he could tell that her head was paining her again.

When the guests returned to the parlour, Darcy joined them for a cup of tea; but after fifteen minutes of small talk, declared that he had correspondence to see to, and excused himself to his study. Elizabeth was surprised. She did not think he would be so rude.

"I think Mr. Darcy wants to give us some time together as a family," Mrs. Gardiner said, apparently noticing her look.

"Is Mr. Darcy not part of the family?" asked Elizabeth in surprise.

"Of course he is. But he might feel as if he is intruding."

Elizabeth did not understand how he could feel that way. She wanted to quiz her aunt more on their relationship, but decided she would have to wait until her uncle and sister were not listening.

"Mr. Darcy wrote that you had some memory loss, Lizzy," said Mary sympathetically.

"Indeed, I do. In fact, I cannot remember having met Mr. Darcy before!"

All of them looked shocked at this. "You do not remember him at all?" asked Mary.

"What is the last thing you remember?" asked Mr. Gardiner.

"I remember getting ready to go to the Meryton Assembly," Elizabeth replied. "Perhaps you can tell me more about what has happened with our family since then."

"Of course!" Mary responded. "Jane married Mr. Bingley, who took the lease on Netherfield, only a few weeks ago. They are on their wedding tour to Paris."

"And how are Kitty and Lydia?"

"We hear that they are doing well, Kitty especially."

"What do you mean, you hear? Are you not living with them at Longbourn?"

Mary shook her head. "Father sent Kitty and Lydia to school after you were married in December."

Elizabeth was shocked to hear this. That her indolent father, who found humour in their vulgarity and silliness, could actually take such responsibility as to send the two girls to school, was almost incredible to her.

"What brought about this change? Did – did Lydia do something scandalous?" She was unsure she wanted to know, but had to ask all the same.

"No, not at all," said Mary, looking uncomfortable. "But Papa wanted to make sure there were no more scandals in the family."

"Any more scandals?" Elizabeth's brow furrowed in confusion. She tried to remember what Mary was talking about, but that brought about a sharp pain in her head.

"Do not worry about it, Lizzy," said Mrs. Gardiner, seeing her distress. "The family is not ruined. Kitty and Lydia have done nothing scandalous and are doing well at school, from what we read of their letters. Lydia had some trouble adjusting, but she is doing better now. And Kitty has flourished away from Lydia's influence."

Elizabeth's headache receded, and they were able to speak some more about the family, until Darcy returned when it was time for dinner. They had an enjoyable meal together, the first that Elizabeth had taken downstairs since her accident. Elizabeth was glad to see the friendliness between her husband and relations. His precipitate departure earlier had astonished her. But he seemed to be enjoying their company as much as they enjoyed his. He was more animated than she had she had seen him since she awoke. Which was his true personality? The solemn, almost silent man he was around her, or the friendly gentleman he projected at dinner that night? Elizabeth could not make him out.

It was later in the evening that she was finally able to find a private moment to speak to her aunt.

"I am glad Mr. Darcy has been taking such good care of you, Lizzy," said Mrs. Gardiner.

"He has," Elizabeth admitted. "Although I cannot make him out."

"What do you mean?"

"I cannot remember him, or wishing to marry him, but it appears I had only known him a little more than a month before we married. We must have had a whirlwind courtship, but whenever I bring up the question with Mr. Darcy, asking him to tell me more about it, he changes the subject. He will not speak of it. I do not understand it."

Mrs. Gardiner looked sympathetic. "Perhaps he does not want you to remember the truth."

Elizabeth felt uneasy. "Why not? Were we not in love?"

Mrs. Gardiner shook his head. "Not as far as I know. I do not know what has happened in your marriage since December, for you have always been private with your feelings, but you were married because you and Mr. Darcy were found in a compromising position."

Elizabeth paled and suddenly felt faint. "Is it because of – Is this why –" She laid her hand on her rounded stomach.

"No, no, my dear. That happened after you were married, of course. Nothing improper occurred, but you were both trapped in an abandoned cottage overnight when there was a thunderstorm, and were found there alone in the morning. Mr. Darcy, of course, did the honourable thing immediately, offering you his hand, but the wedding was rushed."

Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. "So he does not love me?"

Mrs. Gardiner hesitated. "I cannot pretend to know the contents of his heart."

That meant no. Everything made sense now. Darcy would never have stooped to her social sphere to make her his wife for anything but love, or an event which compromised her honour. No wonder his relations had not come to the wedding. And his behaviour over the last few days, while solicitous, had not been that of a lover. It had puzzled her, but she had assured herself that it was simply because he was unsure how to act around a wife who did not remember him.

Now it was clear. She was his unwanted wife. He did not love her. And she had wondered how she had come to love such a man so quickly. Clearly she did not love him either. What a miserable situation to be in! She had always longed to marry for love. She clutched her stomach. At least she had the coming child to love.

"Oh, Lizzy," said Mrs. Gardiner, seeing her expression. "Do not be so downcast! I know that Mr. Darcy is an exceptional gentleman. You have not expressed the state of your affections in your letters, but I had the idea that you and he were getting along quite well after initial adjustments. You even informed me that you had become friends."

Friends. It was better than enemies, she supposed. And at least her husband was a good man. She did not have to worry about his mistreating her.

But if there was no love in their marriage, what hope was there for them?

November 1811

Elizabeth took a walk that afternoon, hoping to get away from their cousin Mr. Collins and his cloying attentions for a little while. It was getting overcast, but she was willing to push her luck. Mr. Collins was the most ridiculous specimen she had ever come across before. And for some reason, he had set his sights on having her for his wife. The very idea was absurd! As if she would ever agree to marry such an imbecile! She kicked rocks in her frustration as she stormed away from Longbourn. If he were to marry any of the Bennet ladies, Mary would probably be the most receptive, although she would not want to wish Mr. Collins on Mary either.

It was when she was a couple miles away from Longbourn that it began to rain. She knew there was a crofter's empty cottage nearby, so she resolved to find shelter there until the storm passed.

As she hurried toward the cottage, however, she saw a tall figure on a horse ahead of her. There was a crack of lightning and the horse reared, unseating its rider, before it bolted into the trees.

Elizabeth ran forward to see if the rider might need help, and was shocked to see that it was Mr. Darcy, lying unconscious in the mud.

For a moment she was unsure what to do. The horse had bolted, so there was no chance of bringing it back so that she could ride for help; besides, she was no horsewoman and the stallion appeared agitated. She knew that she must get Mr. Darcy into the cottage and see if he were seriously injured. Hopefully he would wake up again before the storm ended, and they could go their separate ways, with no one the wiser.

She tried shaking Darcy to wake him, but he remained unconscious. She realized the cold and damp might make him ill if he were left out here, so she did her best to drag him toward the cottage. It took almost an hour, although the house was nearby. He was so heavy she could barely move him without great effort.

When she finally dragged him into the cottage, she was exhausted. She collapsed into one of the dust-covered chairs before stirring herself to start a fire. She and Darcy would both need the warmth if they were not to become ill.

Elizabeth cared for Darcy through the afternoon and into the evening. He had still not awoken when darkness fell, and the storm was raging so outside that she could not leave to summon help. Also, as little as she liked the man, she did not want to leave him to die alone, if that should be his fate. Or what if he awoke and found an empty cottage? He would not know where he was or what happened to him. And it was not safe for her to go out in the storm.

Darcy woke in the middle of the night, but he was disoriented and confused. He vomited several times, and she tried to get him to drink some water, but he fell unconscious again. Elizabeth was worried he might not make it.

In the morning, Darcy had woken again, and the storm had passed. She was just thinking of going out to find help when her father and several other men, part of a search party, found her and Mr. Darcy alone in the cottage. She had stripped down to her chemise for warmth, with a blanket wrapped around her, and she had stripped Darcy of his coat, waistcoat and boots for the same reason.

Mr. Bennet had been furious. He had ordered Darcy to accompany him back to Longbourn. Elizabeth had tried to explain, but he would not listen until they were alone in his study.

"I am very sorry that this has happened, Lizzy," he said after he heard her tale, "but the fact is that you are ruined, no matter your good intentions or that nothing improper occurred."

"I will, of course, be marrying Miss Elizabeth," Darcy had said at once.

"I will not be forced into a marriage!" Elizabeth cried, outraged. "I would rather be ruined than have to marry Mr. Darcy, of all people!" She had not tempered her words. She had thought he would be relieved to hear such a thing, but had she seen hurt in his eyes at her declaration?

"You have no choice. Your sisters will all be ruined if you do not marry Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet was implacable. "Would you have Jane ruined along with you?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes in dismay. Jane would never marry Mr. Bingley. Her other sisters would never find good matches of their own if she did not sacrifice herself.

"Very well," she said in a whisper.

Things moved swiftly after that. Mr. Darcy departed for London that very day to prepare the marriage articles and get a special license. She hardly saw him until the marriage ceremony, one week later. Then, they had left for Pemberley.