"Is it even worth keeping track anymore?" Elizabeth said, marking off a day on the calendar. "Of my cycles, I mean."
"I do not know," said Darcy with a sigh. He felt incredibly guilty that Elizabeth could not have the child she so desired because of him. Mayhap there was still some way she could have one. He knew of a couple who once had a child after more than ten years of barrenness. There might be something that could be done.
Elizabeth climbed into bed beside him and snuggled into his side. "When will Richard, Georgiana, and Miss Hannah return?"
"You know you do not have to call her Miss Hannah any longer? She has given you permission to just call her Hannah. She is nearly your sister." Darcy pulled Elizabeth closer so he could play with her hair. Her lady's maid must hate him, as he was always undoing the braids she had so carefully made.
"It is just that I barely know her, and she is so… I do not know. I do not think she likes me."
"I think she is nervous around you. She is only eighteen and was raised very strictly. She knows Georgiana told you of the nature of their attachment, so I cannot help but think she is concerned about your reaction."
"That is absurd!" said Elizabeth. "Georgiana knows I would never tell anyone that they were anything more than companions to each other."
"Yes, but Hannah does not know you as she does. Georgiana has known you five years. Hannah has only known you a year, and mostly from a distance."
"I will strive to get to know her better," promised Elizabeth. "You did not answer my question, though. When will they return?"
"Soon. I think Richard said it should only take a week or thereabouts for him to finish up what needed to be done at Rosings'. He will bring the ladies with him."
"Will they be here for your birthday?"
"I do not know. If the roads are good, they may be. I do not mind if we must postpone."
"That is only because you dislike your birthday."
"I do not dislike the idea of my birthday. I dislike being the centre of attention."
"We do not have to do anything much. We could remain only as a family party this year. Maybe even just the five of us."
Darcy agreed that her idea was a good one. With that, they ceased their conversation and allowed themselves to drift into sleep.
Several days later, Darcy received a letter from the doctor, Mr. Hadden, that he had consulted while in London. It confirmed that he very likely was sterile, but it was by no means certain. There was no way to tell if he was sterile or if there was only very little seed in his release. It would not hurt if they kept trying, but the tone of the letter led Darcy to think Mr. Hadden believed him to be unable to sire an heir. The doctor did suggest that they might retire to the country and 'adopt' the child of a fallen woman by pretending it was their own. It seemed a risky idea, though. The mother might blackmail them. The father would be very likely a libertine and his blood would be in their heir. No, it was out of the question.
Darcy sighed and cast the letter into the fire. He needed to come up with something. Only that morning, Richard returned with the ladies, bearing news that Harold Darcy had killed two horses by driving them at speeds unsafe for the road he had been travelling, resulting in a terrible accident. To trust such a man with Pemberley was unpardonable.
"Richard!" exclaimed Elizabeth upon catching sight of him. "How good to see you! I hope your journey was good."
"It was. The weather was fine the whole way." Richard drank in the sight of Elizabeth. A small smile graced her features, but her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. Most people would not have noticed, but most people did not spend so much time looking at Elizabeth's eyes as he did.
"Where are Georgiana and Miss Hannah?" Elizabeth asked, looking around.
"They have gone to wash off the dust of the road. Darcy said you were out walking, so they thought to go now, so they might greet you upon your return."
"Very well. I shall simply have to wait to see them," said Elizabeth, although she was a little disappointed. "And the business at Rosings'?"
"Completed. Although Lady Catherine will be most seriously displeased that de has sold off nearly all of her hideous decorations, has allowed the tenants to hunt on the land again, and has changed her will to only allow her mother a small allowance if she passes first."
"Oh. I imagine that displeased Lady Catherine greatly, indeed."
"I am only glad that it was Darcy who was the bearer of bad news to her as he volunteered to go to London."
"Darcy has been in her black books since he and I first became betrothed. He cares not for Lady Catherine's opinion. He would not even speak to her, if I had not urged them to reconcile."
"All the more reason to avoid her, if I were him."
"Lizzy! I missed you most dreadfully!" Georgiana nearly flew down the stairs to Elizabeth, enveloping her in an embrace.
"I missed you as well!" Elizabeth replied as she returned the embrace.
She looked up and watched Miss Hannah descend the stairs with a gentle, measured stride as she tried not to disturb them.
"Hannah, how good to see you!" Elizabeth greeted, trying to imbue warmth into her voice. Hannah gave a polite greeting in return and asked after Elizabeth's health.
"Did you enjoy Kent?" asked Elizabeth. "I understand that you have never before left Derbyshire until this journey."
"You are correct, Mrs. Darcy. I enjoyed it very much. Rosings' is very beautiful," answered Hannah.
"That it is! The first time I went to Rosings', I was nearly always to be found out of doors. I adored walking in the gardens and the countryside. It is so lovely, particularly in the spring."
"Indeed, madam," Hannah agreed.
Conversation between the two women then began to falter, but Richard saved them from awkwardness by relating further information about Elizabeth's first visit to Kent.
"I knew Darcy was smitten with her, but of course, I could say nothing. I tried to tell Elizabeth many things about Darcy, so she might think well of him, but I fear that I often made a hash of it."
"Indeed you did!" said Darcy as he entered the room. "Although I daresay that I made a good enough hash myself, without your assistance."
"Let us not talk of that any longer," said Elizabeth. She went then to Darcy and took his hand. "Remember that we should only think of the past as the remembrance brings us pleasure."
Darcy smiled at Elizabeth and thanked her for the reminder. Georgiana and Miss Hannah professed to being weary from travelling and not equal to much activity or conversation. Thus, the two ladies retired to the library to read and relax while the others went to the drawing-room. They talked of all that had occurred at Rosings and Lady Catherine's reaction, as well as how well Anne was doing as the mistress of the estate.
"I always thought Lady Catherine greatly exaggerated Anne's illness, and it turns out that I am right. She is ill, do not get me wrong," said Richard, "but she is not incapable of doing most things. She may only need to rest afterwards or to have some assistance. Now that she has a new steward, she is doing very well indeed."
Both Darcy and Elizabeth declared themselves pleased that Anne was doing so well. Elizabeth asked after Charlotte Collins and her new baby. Mr. Darcy had told her some, but he was not so adept at conveying the information Elizabeth wished to know. As estate matters had prevented her from visiting herself, which she regretted. Richard told her that Mrs. Collins was doing well, particularly since Anne had taken over Rosings'. Mr. Collins was more sensible and less diffident. The baby was named Olivia, which Elizabeth already knew, and was beginning to crawl and babble things that somewhat sounded like words. Mr. Collins was smitten with the little girl, but still often voiced his wish that the child had been a son instead.
Watching Elizabeth hear of her friends' child, Darcy once again felt a pang of regret that he could not fulfil Elizabeth's longing. He knew that at Rosings, Richard had admitted an admiration for Elizabeth. If it had not been for his inability to provide for her, he likely would have married her and been able to give her a child as well. He had never had the mumps, as he had been at Matlock during the outbreak. Between that and the fact that Richard was one of six children, there was no reason to believe he could not sire as many children as he wished.
Richard knew he should not, but he could not help flirting with Elizabeth. She was a most pleasant dinner companion, as always, and teased him about his bachelorhood.
"If only the rich heiresses were as lovely as you, Lizzy, then I would not be a bachelor. Alas, there is only one of you, unless you have a twin sister that I have not met yet," he answered.
"No, only the four. Some say Kitty looks rather like me, though. She dearly loves a red coat, so perhaps you may fancy her."
"I doubt I shall wear a red coat much longer," he replied. "My injury will prevent me from returning to my regiment and I have no wish to sit at a desk filing away paperwork all day."
"That is a shame. I have always thought you looked well in regimentals. I will be glad to not worry about your safety though," she responded.
Elizabeth had worried constantly when Richard had been abroad. Every day she both dreaded and wished for the post, as it might carry news of him. Every time that she or Darcy had a letter from him, telling them that he was well, she could relax for a day or two.
When she had got news of his injury and they did not know what would happen, she could not sleep. She paced the halls, often alongside Darcy, waiting to hear if he lived or died. When the infection set in, her anxiety had heightened, as everything that she read said infection killed more soldiers than anything else. Thankfully, the army surgeon had cut a large chunk of flesh out of Richard's leg to stop the infection from spreading. It was successful, and now Richard walked with a limp, but he was well.
Darcy watched the conversation between the pair with interest. He wondered if Richard still admired Elizabeth or if she admired him. Strangely, this thought did not cause him to feel any jealousy. It seemed like a natural consequence that the two of the three people most important to him would also have a mutual affection.
A sudden memory flashed through Darcy's mind of when he and Richard were boys at Eton. It was not a thought appropriate for this setting, and he coloured. Still, he wondered if Richard ever thought of those days and what they had done as boys.
"Are you well, Darcy?" Richard asked.
"Perfectly," he answered, taking a drink of his wine to cover his embarrassment.
After Elizabeth fell asleep that night, Darcy let his mind wander back to the memory. Only boys attended school, which left many young men in want of female companionship. It could be purchased, of course, but most boys at Eton were not flush enough or mature enough to seek out such things. Thus, they learned to take care of their needs themselves, sometimes with the help of French postcards.
Richard and Darcy, however, came up with another solution. With the help of a bit of cooking oil, they would take turns satisfying each other. One of them would lay back while the other greased up their hand and pleasured them. They always said they were pretending the other person's hand was a woman's quim, but Darcy never truly felt the need to pretend. Richard's hand around him was enough.
As they got older and went to university, they learned about the French disease and thus had no taste for the various prostitutes that the other men used. Sometimes one or both of them would keep a mistress, but they often required more attention than either was ready to give at that time. If the mistresses did not get the attention they wished, they would take on other clients behind their backs, which defeated the point. It was much less trouble to simply satisfy each other, although they had graduated to using their mouths more often than their hands.
Darcy realised suddenly that he was becoming hard at the remembrance. He glanced toward Elizabeth and saw that she was sleeping soundly. He could not wake her for such a reason. Darcy rose from the bed quietly and proceeded to his dressing room. He carefully closed the door and sat on the bench he used to take his boots off. Pulling up his nightshirt, he spat in his hand and began stroking himself.
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. As he stroked, his mind conjured images of both Elizabeth and Richard in turn. When he reached his release, he used the hem of his nightshirt to catch it, not wanting to spill onto the ground.
He fumbled around for a candle for a moment, not wanting to sleep in the nightshirt he just soiled. He found one, lit it, and located a clean garment. He swiftly changed, depositing the soiled item in the basket for such things before blowing out the candle and returning to bed.