Chapter 4
June 1812
Darcy could tell there was something different about Elizabeth the next day. She would not meet his eyes and answered quietly to his queries about her health. With dread he assumed that one of her relations had told her the true state of their marriage.
When Mr. Bennet had ordered him into his study on the morning after the rainstorm, he had been disappointed that he had caused Miss Elizabeth's reputation to be ruined, but as he had planned to ask her to be his wife at the Netherfield ball in only a couple of days, it would merely speed matters up. But when she had declared her dislike for him so vociferously soon after, declaring she would rather be ruined than married to him, he had felt all his hopes shatter around him. He had no idea she held him in such dislike. He had thought his affections returned.
Once he thought about it, he realized he had given her no encouragement. He had been afraid of raising her hopes, all the while not realizing that she despised him. What had he expected? That because of Pemberley and his aristocratic relations, she would accept him? He had thought that all he would have to do was propose in order to have his affections returned. What a fool he had been!
Of course a lively, witty, and beautiful women such as Elizabeth would not love him, dour and dull as he was. And she was not such a social climber that she would marry him despite her dislike. He admired her in that moment, as much as his heart ached.
He had tried to stay away from her as much as possible until the wedding, in order to give her time to come to terms with her new reality. But after they wed, he would try to reach her heart. He was not sure he could do it, or that he was even worthy of it, but he would try just the same.
The trip to Derbyshire passed in near silence. He did not exercise his rights until they reached Pemberley. He had hoped that, through shared passion, they could find some level ground for their marriage. Elizabeth was a passionate woman. Surely they could become closer that way.
But the consummation of their marriage had been a disaster. He shuddered as he thought of it, then pushed it from his mind. He had left her in her bed, gone to his room, and then heard her sobs through the door from her chamber.
He had not visited her bed again.
However, that one night had born fruit. Elizabeth had conceived, and when she told him of her condition six weeks later, she seemed truly happy for the first time since their marriage.
At least he could make her happy about something.
Elizabeth noted over the next few days that Darcy often left her alone with the Gardiners or Mary. He obviously did not want to interfere in their time together, which she appreciated; but she also wished her husband would show some interest in her life. Now that she knew he did not love her, she saw her husband's many absences in a different light. Was this always to be her lot?
She tried to enjoy her time with her family while she could. They would only stay for a couple of weeks, but Elizabeth had hoped that Mary might wish to stay longer, and be a comfort to her sister while she still had no memories.
When she broached the topic, Mary agreed that she would love to stay at Pemberley until the baby was born.
Elizabeth had noted some differences in Mary, and now she thought she recognized why. Mary had always been pedantic and judgmental, lecturing on the importance of a woman's virtue. Elizabeth had almost expected to hear the same sermons preached at her once she learned the truth of her marriage; but it seemed her compromise had accomplished the opposite in Mary's mind. When she asked Mary about it, her sister was forthcoming in her answer.
"I admired you very much for what you had done for Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, even though you knew it would probably end in the ruin of your reputation. You could have left him alone, unconscious in the rain, and saved your reputation, but you did what was right instead. And the compromise was not your fault in the least. You could not, and should not, have been blamed for anything. I realized that as I heard Mr. Collins' unkind sermonizing after it happened."
"Mr. Collins had much to say on the matter?" Elizabeth asked with some amusement. Mary had told her the night before a bit about the heir to Longbourn.
"Yes, he did," said Mary in disgust. "And to think I had considered accepting him if he had proposed! Papa expelled him from Longbourn, and I am glad to wait for a better man."
"You deserve it, my dear sister," said Elizabeth warmly, at the same time thinking of her less-than-happy situation with misgiving.
Mary told her all about Jane's wedding to Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth was glad to hear that at least Jane was happy. Her sacrifice had been good for something.
"We have sent letters to Jane and to your parents, letting them know that you are well and almost recovered, although you have lost some memories," said Mrs. Gardiner.
That relieved Elizabeth's mind. That night, she looked through her desk to see if she could find where she kept her correspondence. She found letters from her sisters, father, mother, Mrs. Gardiner, and Charlotte, whom she was surprised to find had married Mr. Collins and was now living in Kent. Through reading, she discovered much information on what had passed in her correspondents' lives since October, but she could find nothing that revealed the truth about her marriage. She had thought it highly unlikely that she would convey anything personal through a letter anyway, but she had wanted to try.
Once she was well enough to venture outdoors, over the next two weeks, Darcy was a very attentive host, showing them about his estate, taking Mr. Gardiner fishing, and joining them at every meal. Elizabeth's opinion of him began to improve. He treated her aunt and uncle in trade as if they were from the aristocracy themselves, showing that he saw no difference between the two. Elizabeth was impressed and pleased to observe this in her husband.
He showed the same solicitude towards her, and she was glad to think that perhaps Mrs. Gardiner had been right, and that they were friends.
She enjoyed seeing the sights of Pemberley, and found that she would love her new home. There were occasional flashes of remembrance when she would see a certain stream or field, but they departed so quickly that she could not be sure what she remembered. Darcy was in none of her remembrances. She thought, if she had been married to the man for six months, if she was carrying his child, that she must remember something. Perhaps her mind did not want her to remember.
Mary was thoroughly enjoying her time in Derbyshire, although she was slightly worried about Lizzy. She had seemed happy enough in her letters, but now she was downcast, and Mary wondered if it was her amnesia that had caused it, or if she had been dissembling in her letters.
The Gardiners were due to leave in a couple of days, and Mary hoped that Elizabeth had been able to have some time to talk with their aunt about whatever was troubling her. Mary knew their Mrs. Gardiner was a fount of wisdom, and had always been closest to Lizzy and Jane.
That night, Mr. Darcy had invited the vicar of Kympton parish to dine with them. He said the man had only been with him for a few years, since the old incumbent died.
When the vicar entered the room, Mary almost did not hear Darcy's introduction, so entranced was she with the man's beautiful appearance. He was even more handsome than Mr. Darcy, if that were possible, thought Mary, attempting not to stare.
"This is my childhood friend, and vicar of Kympton Parish, Mr. George Wickham. Wickham, my wife's relations, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner of London, and Mrs. Darcy's sister, Miss Mary Bennet."
Mr. Wickham bowed, and Mary remembered just in time to curtsey. She could not believe she was so taken with a man's looks. She had always propounded that looks meant nothing when it came to a man's character.
"It is a pleasure to meet you all," said Mr. Wickham with a charming smile. "And it is good to see you again, Mrs. Darcy. Although Darcy has told me you have lost some of your memories since your accident, so you might not remember me. Be assured that we prayed fervently for your recovery."
"Thank you, sir," said Elizabeth with an inclination of her head. "I know the prayers were much appreciated."
As they sat down to eat, Mary could not stop her gaze going over and over to Mr. Wickham. What was it about him that entranced her so? Surely, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, but she had never put much stock in looks herself, being the homeliest of five sisters. She tried to listen to Mr. Wickham's conversation, instead.
"Your charity for the children is going very well, Mrs. Darcy," he was saying. "We have new students every week."
"I have a charity?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.
"Yes, you started a charity to give the underprivileged children a chance to have an education," Darcy inserted.
"A charity which your husband has supported fully," said Wickham with a charming smile. "You will not find a more generous man, unless it were, perhaps, his father."
"You say you were friends with my brother when you were both children?" asked Mary.
"Yes, indeed," he smiled at Mary and her heart picked up. "I was old Mr. Darcy's godson, and Fitzwilliam and I, as well as his older cousins, played frequently. We have been friends ever since. Mr. George Darcy sponsored my education at Cambridge. I will admit I was a bit wild while at university, but Mr. Darcy's premature death shook me, and once I went to seminary, I was able to settle down into my calling."
"You are very fortunate to have had such sponsorship," said Mr. Gardiner. "You grew up at Pemberley?"
"My father was steward to Mr. George Darcy. They both were very good men, and I miss them dearly."
The conversation moved to other routes, but Mary could not stop her fascination with this charming man.
Elizabeth had hoped to perhaps recognize Mr. Wickham when the vicar came to dinner, but like everyone else, he was a blank canvass. Darcy had told her about his childhood friend when she had asked earlier that day, in preparation for their guest. She had to admit he was a handsome man, although not as handsome as her husband; but smiles came much freer for Mr. Wickham than from Darcy. Elizabeth thought that, if Mr. Wickham had not chosen such a godly life, he could have been a danger to many women. She looked forward to hearing his sermon on Sunday to see if he were actually as godly as he appeared. Although she knew somehow that Darcy would not have a disreputable friend. He was too honourable for that. He could have left her to ruin in Hertfordshire rather than marry a penniless country maiden, but he had done the honourable thing, despite the fact that he did not love her.
As Mr. Wickham bade them good night, Elizabeth began to wonder how she and Darcy would get on together once the Gardiners left. Fortunately, Mary would stay for her comfort, but she hardly knew how to speak to her husband. He was solicitous of her welfare, but aside from that, he seemed hardly to know how to speak to her either. Had things been this awkward between them before her accident? She wondered if she could move them back into the friendship they had apparently had before.