A/N - This chapter is unedited. Please let me know if you see any issues or where you think the story might drag.

Let me know if you continue to see any issues with consistency, language/usage, or just too much information. This story will be published on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited at some point once it is finished (new target: September 10?).

Chapter 31

Over the next week, Mrs Bennet paid particular attention to her husband's newspaper, pouring over the society pages looking for references to the Darcys. She also visited her sister regularly to review the other gossip sheets from London that her sister subscribed to. In all but one, ED from P in Derbyshire was mentioned positively. She was often seen in company with several titled ladies, her sister, as well as the wives of several other gentlemen. One account spoke in glowing terms of a dinner party hosted at Darcy House, where several prominent politicians and other notable figures were hosted.

Mrs Bennet struggled to understand how this daughter, the one she liked least, had managed to do so well for herself. She had been so certain that Elizabeth would fail in society, but here she was, being praised to the skies for the traits Mrs Bennet decried in her.

That night at dinner, she spoke to her husband about this. "Do you know, Mr Bennet, that our daughter, Mrs Darcy, is quite the celebrated hostess in London? She is frequently mentioned in the newspaper and the gossip columns and praised for her charitable endeavours and parties."

Mr Bennet grunted. "She mentioned a party or two in her letters, although nothing about the papers. Is this why you requested the papers when I was finished with them this week?" he asked.

"Yes, my sister brought her name to my attention and then Kitty wrote a letter describing one of these parties. After that, I began to look for mentions of her in the paper and was surprised to learn how well she is thought of in London, at least according to the papers. There is one columnist with nothing good to say of her, but she is the only one, and my sister believes she sounds suspiciously like Miss Bingley," his wife told him.

"Miss Bingley?" he asked.

"Mr Bingley was the one who brought Mr Darcy to Hertfordshire when he leased Netherfield for a twelvemonth, although he only remained that one autumn. Miss Bingley was his hostess and thought herself much above our company here," Mrs Bennet explained.

"Ahh, the gentleman who broke our eldest's heart," Mr Bennet replied. "She seems to have recovered well enough from that disappointment."

"I would say so, Mr Bennet, and the child she carries is evidence that her broken heart has been mended," she replied. "We have one grandchild already, although we have never met him, and another will arrive soon. I … I think, husband, that it is time I apologise to Lizzy."

He looked at her in astonishment. "Do you?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I have let this go on long enough, and it has been purely my fault that we have never met our grandchild. Kitty's letter said they celebrated the child's first birthday and the Darcys' second anniversary not long ago. They took him and the Gardiner children to Astley's Amphitheatre to celebrate and had a party attended by the Gardiners, the Hastings, and members of Mr Darcy's family."

"I am not certain that a letter of apology will be enough to bring them to Longbourn," Mr Bennet said. "The letters to me are very business-like, and I am not certain they like either of us very much. We have both been rather foolish, have we not?"

Mrs Bennet eyed her husband warily but quickly deflated and confessed to the thoughts building up inside her. "I … I was angry for a long time. However, I have gradually realised what a terrible mother I have been to our daughters. When Lydia returned from school that first year at Christmas, I was surprised to learn how much our daughters had done for the tenants. I was just learning how to take their place, but Lydia knew exactly what to do. Lizzy had taught all her sisters to care for the people of Longbourn while I had not bothered. I recall your mother explaining my duty to the estate all those years ago, but she continued doing much of it. For a short time, I went with her, but I stopped. She tried to encourage Jane to learn, but it was Lizzy who took the job over and then taught the rest.

"I knew that Lizzy was doing what I should have been, and instead of praising her for it, I belittled her and made her feel less. It was my responsibility, and I had neglected it. Instead of appreciating Lizzy's efforts, I tried to make myself feel better by making her feel small. I … I never understood her, and she had … she had your attention and … well, I think sometimes I was jealous of her."

Mr Bennet sighed deeply. "I am equally at fault, if not more," he confessed to his wife. "I knew better and allowed you to act as you did. I should have encouraged you and helped you know your role as my wife. I knew my mother had continued assisting with the tenants and thought nothing of it, as you gave birth to several children quickly. When my mother passed away, I knew Lizzy took over that role, although I did not know she had taught the other girls to help her. I hid in my bookroom instead of helping you with the girls and only taught Lizzy because she pestered me until I agreed. I allowed her to do far too much and never took enough interest in the estate myself. Their stipulations have forced me to take an active role, the role I always should have been doing, and I fought against it for far too long."

"All of our daughters have left us now," Mrs Bennet said. "Again, I blamed Lizzy for that, particularly for forcing us to send Lydia to school. However, from her letters, I know that Lydia has learned much at school. We have only seen her at Christmas – she chose to go to Pemberley last summer to visit her sisters. I was shocked when she wanted to apologise to the Lucases for her behaviour, the behaviour that I had encouraged. I would have been happy to have Lydia married at just fifteen or sixteen, but she would not have been ready for marriage then. She has grown up a great deal and speaks very excitedly of joining the Darcys in London next spring. She hopes to join Miss Darcy and Kitty in town then and participate in events with them. The Darcys have invited her to do so, and they would never have done so if Lydia had not greatly improved."

Mr Bennet looked at his wife. "I should have done more, my dear," he told her. "I should have insisted we hire a governess or done something to correct the girls. Both Jane and Lizzy tried to encourage me to step in and check their younger sisters, but I ignored them, choosing to be amused by them instead of rousing myself from my books. For that, Mrs Bennet, I should apologise to you."

"Will our girls forgive us?" she asked. "We cannot go back and change what we have done, and it seems that Lizzy's marriage enabled them to correct the flaws in our daughters' upbringing, regardless of our failures as their parents. I … I have penned a letter to Lizzy, and if … if you will read it and send it, perhaps we can make a start?"

"We can try, Mrs Bennet," he said. "We can try."

Several days later, a large packet arrived at Darcy House from Longbourn addressed to both Mr and Mrs Darcy. It was brought to the study they shared and handed to the master along with the ordinary post.

"Elizabeth," said he, "we have received a packet from Longbourn. It is addressed to us both."

"A packet? What is inside?" she asked.

He opened the outer envelope and discovered several letters tucked inside. Having moved to stand beside her husband's chair, Elizabeth started when she realised that at least two of the folded notes within were from her mother.

"William, what do you think this might mean?" she asked quietly.

"I do not know, dearest, and we cannot know until we open them," he replied, pulling her down and into his lap.

She kissed his cheek. "Yes, I think I will need your arms around me to read whatever this might contain."

"Would you like me to read them to you? Or perhaps read them first so they do not upset you?" he asked.

"I am well, William. I only have suspicions; nothing is yet certain, and I should not be negatively impacted by reading a letter," she protested.

He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. "I know, love, but I do not want anything to upset you, especially when we suspect you might be with child. It is early days yet, and I realise you are a strong woman, but after …"

Elizabeth stopped his words with a kiss. "All will be well, William," she whispered. "We both suspected a loss just after Christmas, but we will be well this time. I have faith that things will be well."

He hugged her tightly, closing his eyes against the tears that gathered there, and kissed her forehead tenderly. "We have faith," he repeated. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. "Let us see what your parents have to say, and not put it off any longer."

With that said, he handed her the note that had "open first" printed on its front. She opened the message from Mr Bennet and began to read aloud.

Mr and Mrs Darcy,

Oddly enough, I have come to a startling conclusion over the last few months, and a conversation with my wife has spurred us both to action. We have finally come to understand that we have both been terrible parents to our children — even more, since we have abdicated our responsibility toward all of them in the last years, allowing the two of you to carry the weight of ensuring our youngest daughters were prepared for the wider world. I have little doubt that you have rescued our youngest daughter from certain ruin, and Kitty would have eventually followed.

The two of you have been married over two years and, in that time, have been responsible for far more than a young couple ought to be. You have ensured Longbourn's success, forcing me to take an interest and do what I should have been doing for years. You sent my youngest daughter to school, provided a companion for the next two, and probably had much to do with Mary and Jane marrying. I know that Jane met Mr Hastings while at Longbourn, but had you not acted to rescue me from my foolishness, Jane may not have had the opportunity to marry, as she would have been taken for unsavoury purposes. The two of you have saved our family, and instead of being grateful, I have acted as a small child upset by a reprimand when I have failed to obey what I knew to be right.

For my failure to act as I should, my failure to take responsibility for my children, and my petulant behaviour since you rescued me, I apologise most sincerely. My wife has included her apologies in a separate letter. It may be a case of too little, too late, but I hope you can find a way to forgive me for my failures. I want you to know I have also apologised to my wife for my failures regarding her; had I acted as I should, she would never have acted as she did. Her attitude toward you, her actions, and the letters she wrote were all my failure to care for my wife as I ought to have. I should have done more, so I must also apologise to you. Do not hold her ignorance against her; I should have done more to remedy it.

Sincerely,

Thomas Bennet

Elizabeth buried her face into her husband's neck when she finished the letter. She released her grip on it as she wrapped her arms around him, nearly suffocating him with the strength of her embrace.

"Tell me, love, what are you thinking?" he said gently as her tears abated.

"I am amazed that he could write such," she whispered. "Is it terrible that I am frankly astonished to know he has finally realised what I have thought for many years? I always thought the way he treated Mama, and my sisters was terrible, perhaps not as much as I should have because he seemed to value me. But when I learned that he traded on my marriage to you to rescue him from his mistakes, he did not care whether I cared for you or not, but you were rich and could assist him. In this letter, he takes responsibility for even my mother's actions, claiming that he knew better but did not bother to correct her. This is the first time in two years that he has expressed even a little gratitude for what we — mostly you — have done for my family." Once again, she hid her face in his cravat as the tears flowed.

Darcy caressed her hair, pulling out her pins as he went. "Hush, love," he said. "Perhaps we should retire for a rest before reading any more of these letters."

She giggled. "Do you mean rest or sleep, sir?" she teased, arching an eyebrow at her husband as she recalled how often they had used the excuse of resting to mean something else entirely.

"Perhaps we rest first, and then you might sleep," he growled into her ear, his breath tickling her ear and causing her to shiver. "If you are as we suppose, you will benefit from a nap before we go out this evening."

She yawned. "At this rate, it may take me a week to finish all these letters," she laughed. "Come, husband," she said as she stood from his lap. "Come tuck me in so we might rest together."

While it did not take quite a week, it did take several days for Elizabeth and Darcy to read the missives from Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet's letter contained the same overtures her husband's had, yet these expressions did not strike Elizabeth as the most astonishing. Throughout her life, she had been subjected to her mother's belittling her and endured a ceaseless barrage of criticism regarding her appearance, manners, and demeanour. It seemed that, according to Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth had never been pretty enough, ladylike enough, or sufficiently demure to fit that lady's idea of what her daughter should be. As a result, Elizabeth had always felt her actions and achievements fell short of her mother's expectations. In addition, Mrs Bennet frequently bemoaned Elizabeth's unmarried state, having achieved the age of twenty and still unwed, and repeatedly proclaimed that she would never marry as "no man would ever want her." These thoughts had replayed through her head for years until the love of Fitzwilliam Darcy had finally convinced her they were all untrue.

But in black ink on paper, there were words that carried an unexpected weight. Mrs. Bennet's letter contained a surprising declaration of pride for her daughter. This unexpected sentiment threatened to overwhelm Elizabeth, stirring a tumult of emotions she struggled to contain. The words "I am proud of you" echoed in her mind, a simple affirmation that struck with profound significance since she had never heard those words from her mother before.

As Elizabeth read those words, she gasped, bringing her husband immediately to her side. They had been enjoying a quiet moment in their shared sitting room as they read their correspondence, she reclining on the chaise lounge and him in an armchair next to her, but he quickly stood and knelt before her. Beginning to cry, Darcy wrapped his arms around her, and it was only the steady presence of her husband's arms wrapped securely around her prevented her from collapsing entirely. He spoke not a word, but his presence and unwavering strength served as an anchor as she sought to calm herself.

With her husband's arms around her, Elizabeth attempted to process this emotional realisation. Her mother's approval, something she had long believed unattainable, had finally materialised, leaving her grappling with feelings of astonishment, validation, and even a touch of vulnerability.

"She says she is proud of me," she finally whispered when she calmed somewhat. "I cannot recall her ever saying anything remotely like that. She …," Elizabeth drew a deep breath, "she has read of my success in the papers and sees how well I am doing in London, and that success is the thing that she chooses to be proud of me for. She had read about me in the gossip sheets and heard Mrs Phillips and others speak about my success, which made her realise what a terrible mother she always was to me. She knows I would never invite her here as things currently stand between us, and now she wants to apologise." She sat up, not relinquishing her husband's touch, as she thought. Finally, her need to move overwhelmed her, and she got up and began to pace.

"What do we do now?" she asked her husband.

"What do you mean, love?" he wondered.

"How do we respond? Do I even respond to them at all? Do I wait to see what else they might say? I have not heard from my mother in eighteen months, and she waits until now, until she has read of my success in the newspapers as a hostess and read about how well Georgiana has been received, now she writes to apologise. Why now? Why not when Alex was first born? Why not when Mary was to be married? Lydia will finish school soon, and we already planned to give her a season next year, so she cannot want to ask for that, but does she want to come to London? Does she want me to host her here at Darcy House? I cannot but be suspicious of her motivation." Elizabeth was beginning to be angry at her mother's choosing to wait until now to write.

Darcy stood from where he knelt and approached his wife cautiously. "Perhaps we should let things settle for a day or two before you do anything. You are feeling emotional right now, and it would be best to let that immediate reaction settle before you make any decisions."

Elizabeth sighed deeply and walked into his open arms. "You are right, as always," she teased. "I will write to my aunt and ask her to visit me in a day or two and discuss it with her. I need to speak with someone who knows her well, which you do not. I can vent my frustrations to my aunt and talk it through." She held up her hand as she knew he was about to protest. "I know I can speak with you, dear, but I need another woman for this. Not Jane, as she would only encourage me to forgive her immediately and without another thought, but I am not Jane, and I cannot do that. I cannot erase years of what amounts to verbal abuse and the letters she sent after our marriage. I cannot immediately forgive and forget almost two years of silence because I refused to allow her to continue to harangue me in letters. I will speak to my aunt — you are welcome to be present — but I need my aunt's advice in this matter."

He nodded his agreement with her plan. Then, examining her face and seeing evidence of fatigue, he spoke again. "Are you in need of a rest, love?" he growled.

She giggled like a schoolgirl, taking his hand and leading him toward the stairs.

Copyright 2023 Melissa Anne