Chapter 7
Elizabeth woke up from her nap, feeling uneasy about her dream. It had been so vivid and life-like that she thought it must be a memory. If so, it was discouraging. But that had only been in their second month of marriage. Had things improved between them in the four months following? She resolved to ask Darcy about her dream.
Darcy was sitting at the desk in his study when there was a knock on the door. "Enter," he said, and was surprised to see his wife. He stood in courtesy to greet her. "Elizabeth, how are you feeling?"
"Very well, thank you, Mr. Darcy."
Darcy felt that pang in his heart again. She had not called him Fitzwilliam since she had woken from her accident.
"Will you sit?"
He took a chair next to her and she sat down.
"What can I do for you, Elizabeth?"
"I – well, I had a dream, that I think might have been a memory. Perhaps you can tell me the truth of it?"
"I should be glad to," he said, although he was not certain he wanted to hear it.
"The dream was about your twenty-eighth birthday. I had prepared some special celebrations for you. Did that happen?"
Darcy smiled. "It did, indeed. I had not realized you even knew when my birthday was, and then there you were, with dinner and gifts all planned out. It was very thoughtful of you and Georgiana."
Elizabeth smiled shyly. "I hope I did the same for Georgiana's birthday."
"She will not turn seventeen until the fall."
"I will still have time to plan, then." Elizabeth's smile wavered. "I also had a dream that we had a – discussion in our sitting room later that night."
Darcy felt his heart sink. He had forgotten that that was the night they had argued about Mr. Turner. He had felt terribly guilty that Elizabeth had been forced into a marriage with a man she did not love, and then she had suggested that he would do the same thing to Georgiana. Later he had realized that she had not meant it that way, but he had responded with inappropriate anger at the time – anger at himself for putting her into that situation.
"Yes, that is true," she said stiltedly.
"Did – did we argue often?" she asked almost timidly.
Never had he known his beloved Elizabeth to be timid, and to see it now hurt his heart. She was uncertain of their relationship, and that was his fault. He had trouble being open with her, afraid of rejection or getting hurt. He needed to be willing to take some risks with his emotions.
"Not often," he said in a soft voice. "In fact, I would say that we are friends."
She gave a small smile. "I am glad to hear it."
"And after your advice, I spoke to Georgiana the next day, assuring her I would never force her into a marriage."
"I am glad to hear that also." She shifted in her seat. "I received a letter from Jane," she said, changing the topic to his relief. "She was so upset to hear of my accident that she wanted to leave Paris and come straight here to see me. I assured her I was perfectly well, except for the memory loss, and that I did not want her to cut her wedding trip short."
"I am sure Bingley will be pleased to hear it." Darcy smiled. "Not that he does not love you as a sister."
"I admit I look forward to meeting him. Or rather, remembering him. I hope I will remember him." She looked troubled again.
"I invited them to come to Pemberley for the birth," Darcy said. "I thought you would like to have your sister with you at such a time, and Bingley and Jane had both wanted him to find an estate close to Pemberley for them to settle in."
"I imagine they do not want to stay at Netherfield, so close to my mother," Elizabeth teased.
Darcy was relieved to see her teasing again. "Bingley has not said as much, but I think that is part of his motivation."
"What of his sisters?" asked Elizabeth with some concern.
"Bingley broke with his sister Caroline because of her treatment of Jane as well as the rest of the Bennets. But Mrs. Hurst has become very friendly with your sister, now that her younger sister is not there to influence her."
"It sounds like Kitty and Lydia," Elizabeth said pensively. "Although I have heard that they are gone to school, and doing very well."
"I am glad to hear it."
Elizabeth excused herself from his study then, saying she needed to dress for dinner, leaving Darcy to contemplate the state of his marriage.
He wanted it to improve; he always had, from the very beginning. But after what seemed to be an utter rejection of him from the very moment he proposed all the way until the disastrous consummation of their marriage, he was reluctant to risk his heart. Elizabeth was trying to find her way in their relationship now without memories – or at least very few of them. At least she did not remember how poorly he had behaved at the beginning of their acquaintance. He wanted to nurture the warmth he felt from her. He had been trying to do that very thing since the day they wed. That was why he had suggested the picnic today. He wanted to get back to the comfortable footing they had been on before her accident. More than that, he wanted her love. He was not sure he would ever get it. Was it even possible for the incomparable Elizabeth to love such a man as he?
The next day, just as the hour was ringing for tea, Mr. Wickham appeared at Pemberley House in one of the Darcy carriages, which had been sent for him. Mary had to admit to herself that she was eager to see the handsome vicar again. She had enjoyed his sermon the day before, and he had been kind enough to answer her question after the service, when many were asking for his attention. She wondered why such a man was not yet married.
She was glad to see that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth appeared to be much easier with each other today. She was not sure what their marriage had been like before her accident, for Lizzy had said little about it in her letters, but she hoped things would improve for them. She had thought Mr. Darcy had been very thoughtful with the picnic yesterday, and apparently, Lizzy had too.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," the vicar said with a bow.
"Greetings, Mr. Wickham," replied Mary with a curtsey.
"Darcy, Mrs. Darcy."
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Wickham," said Elizabeth. "Will you join us for tea?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy."
They all sat in chairs in the sitting room, and Mary was pleased to see that Mr. Wickham sat beside her.
They passed the next fifteen minutes in friendly small talk, and Mary perceived again what very happy manners Mr. Wickham possessed. It was certainly something to admire, and unexpected in a man of God. Mary herself said little, happy to observe the company.
"Now, Mr. Wickham, you said you had a matter you wished to discuss with my husband and me?" Elizabeth prompted him at last.
"Yes, indeed. It is about Miss Amelia Wilson. You may not remember, Mrs. Darcy, but she is the maiden sister of the curate of not only myself, but my predecessor. She was living with her brother Marcus Wilson until he passed away a few weeks ago."
"Yes. I am afraid I have not had a chance to look for a new curate for you yet, Wickham, what with recent events. I would like to consult you on your choice," said Mr. Darcy.
"That is generous of you, Darcy. I look forward to discussing it with you. For now, however, Miss Wilson has no means of support. I just learned yesterday that the friends she was living with since her brother's death, are moving out of the area, and she will be once again without means. I should have paid more attention to the matter sooner, but with the stress of losing my curate unexpectedly and trying to find a new one, it slipped my mind."
He sounded regretful, and Mary could only admire Mr. Wickham for taking such care of his parish. She had often imagined that she and her mother and sisters would be forced into genteel poverty when their father died – at least until Lizzy married Mr. Darcy – and she had hoped that someone would be as kind as Mr. Wickham was being toward Miss Wilson.
"Has she any other relations with whom she might live?" asked Elizabeth.
Mr. Wickham shook his head. "No, only she and her brother were left of their family."
"Is she a gentlewoman?"
"As far as I know, their father was a second son, so their grandfather was a gentleman."
"Is she an older woman?"
"She must be in her fifties, I suppose, but quite sprightly."
"This is certainly a concern," said Darcy. "Do you have any ideas of what we might do to help her?"
"There must be a way to give her a subsistence without making her feel that it is charity. She is a proud woman. She would not accept what she viewed as charity," said Mr. Wickham.
As the three of them debated the matter, Mary suddenly had a thought. "Mr. Wickham, did you not say that my sister had started a charity to help give an education to the poor children of the area?"
"Indeed, she did," said Wickham, turning to her with a smile.
"Perhaps you might involve Miss Wilson in the charity. You might give her a position that would suit her talents, and the competency you provide her could be said to go toward her efforts. The position would naturally come with a place for her to live, not too extravagant, but at least in the style in which she is accustomed to living."
Wickham's face brightened as he listened. "That is a marvellous idea, Miss Bennet!" he said. "How clever you are!"
Mary could feel her cheeks flush at his praise. He turned back to his patrons. "Would this be acceptable to you, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy?"
"I think it a wonderful idea," said Elizabeth.
"I agree," said Darcy with a smile at his sister-in-law.
They discussed more plans, and Mary was content to sit back and listen, only giving her opinion when frequently prompted by Mr. Wickham. She had to admit it was a lovely thing to feel so valued.