Chapter 9

Chilton Cottage, Hampshire

Elizabeth sat at the desk in her new library, sorting the books so that her father could place them on the shelves. It was a peaceful activity, enjoyed by both of the participants. Strains of music drifted up from the downstairs sitting room where Mary played the pianoforte. They were unhurried in their tasks, stopping to peruse volumes that caught their fancy or sharing a favorite passage. Her voice was much better, and it no longer pained her to speak. It had been a week since the attack, and Mr. Howard had been very encouraged by her speedy recovery. The only lingering reminder of her injury had been the persistent bruising on her throat.

Her father had brought newly printed bookplates that he had specially ordered for her. They displayed her married name and were decorated with a drawing of a rose bud. However, she had insisted on leaving the Longbourn bookplates attached while placing the new ones alongside.

A doubtful Elizabeth gazed at the bookplate that she had just affixed to the last book and said, "Papa, are you certain that this is a good idea? These are some of the best books from your library. You should keep them for yourself. You are in good health and have plenty of time to enjoy them at Longbourn."

Mr. Bennet interrupted her before they were drawn once again into a conversation that they had already had several times in the last three months, "Lizzy, I have told you my reasons and I do not want to rehash what has been said many times since your wedding. When I pass on, your mother would probably not ensure that you receive your inheritance, nor would she have the wherewithal to save them from the grasping hands of my heir, Mr. Collins. Moreover, he would not have the sense to recognize their worth. This is a sound move, my dear. Please do not fret."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I suppose that I am starting to sound more like Mama, fretful and carried away by my nerves."

He chuckled and winked at her. "Now that would be a fitting retaliation against your poor excuse for a husband. He would be paid back in full for his ill humors by being saddled with a wife who continuously reminded him of her flutterings and spasms. That would be quite a brilliant revenge for his mistreatment. Ha! What an inspired idea! Better yet, I will simply whisk you away from here and leave your mother in your place."

She giggled while shaking her head. "You, sir, are very bad. Mr. Darcy may no longer see me as Jezebel reincarnated, but he still regards me as so far below him as to be an abomination to the Darcy name. If I were to start screeching and waving my handkerchief excessively, he would probably take that as grounds to have me committed."

With a wry grin, he pulled the next crate over and began to stack the contents on the desk to be cataloged and sorted.

They continued with their tasks for another quarter hour, until Mrs. Morris came in with tea and Mary came upstairs to join them.

The housekeeper bustled around arranging the offerings just so and then said, "Madam, Theo came with the morning post, so I brought that in as well. Mr. Bennet, there seems to be quite a packet for you, too, as well as the latest London paper."

Elizabeth responded, "Thank you, Mrs. Morris. I just want to say how much I appreciate all that you have done during my convalescence. You have risen to the challenge so graciously."

Mrs. Morris blushed and dipped her little birdlike head in pleasure at the words of praise. "Mr. Morris and I, along with all the staff, are so relieved to have you up and about again. We cannot do enough to aid you in your recovery, Ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled in gratitude, "I am sure that Mr. Darcy will add a gratuity in the next quarter's pay for you all. Your care, as well as the discreet way that the staff have handled the events of the last week, are much appreciated. Still, until my bruises disappear, I prefer to not receive guests."

"Of course, Mrs. Darcy. We are happy to be of service." With that she excused herself and left the room.

Mary asked curiously, "Lizzy, have you heard anything more from Mr. Darcy or Lady Matlock?"

She looked through the small stack of letters and answered, "Yes, he has written daily, and I see a new one from him, today. But so far, I have only received the one letter from the Countess. I was extremely surprised that she reached out to me. It was quite unexpected." She had shared with them the contents of the letter from the noble lady when it had come several days ago. The Countess's welcome to the family had seemed sincere, although her style of writing had been a bit overbearing. She had made it apparent that she meant to take her in hand and ensure that she was accepted by the Ton. Her assumptions concerning Elizabeth's compliance had made her feel a trifle insulted. She had even gone so far as to demand her measurements so that she could begin to order her a new wardrobe. At that recollection, Elizabeth added, "I hope she charges my new finery to my husband. For he, too, has more than hinted that I should come to town to be presented as his bride. He has expressed a desire to solidify my position as his wife and satisfy the curiosity of society. I suppose that it is inevitable. We shall see. In my responses to him, I am negotiating for a very short visit. I find the thought of facing society disconcerting. However, I am interested in meeting his family, especially his sister. Regardless, I prefer the peace of this cottage to my husband's fine townhouse."

Her father nodded in approval, "I can understand your reluctance, Daughter. Yet, at the same time, I am encouraged that Mr. Darcy's family has reached out to you. After all, it is only right and proper that they do so. Furthermore, I fear that it is unavoidable that you be presented to society. The tale of your poor health that they have circulated will only go so far in quelling any rumors of impropriety."

She nodded resignedly and said with some trepidation, "What say you, Mary? If I am required to visit London, I can only hope that you might go as well. I do not think I can do without you."

Although, it had already been determined that, when Elizabeth moved to her new home in the country, Mary would accompany her. But nothing had been settled regarding Elizabeth's impending visit to town. And she held out little hope that Mary would be eager to go to Darcy House with her. Yet, neither would Mary want to return to Longbourn while Elizabeth was in London.

Mary eyed her sister and father warily, "Ah, well, about that, I do not know. You know how much I hate any sort of society. Perhaps, I could stay with our aunt and uncle while you deal with Mr. Darcy's relations." Her expression was pensive and at the same time earnestly pleading. "Let us wait and see what the arrangements would be before we decide."

Elizabeth nodded reluctantly and said, "I understand and will not pressure you into anything that will make you uncomfortable. Whatever they say, I, myself, will not agree to anything more than a short foray into society. He has promised me some sort of establishment of my own where I can live apart from him if I desire to do so, and I intend to hold him to it. After everything that has transpired over the past several months, I will not be rushed into whatever role they try to push me into. I need time to come to terms with my situation and my marriage."

Her father grinned at her declaration to hold Darcy's feet to the fire and said, "Absolutely. It is incumbent that you keep that young man on his toes, Elizabeth Rose. Give no quarter, I say."

At that point, they all busied themselves with sorting through their correspondence and enjoying their tea. After a few moments of quiet, Mr. Bennet said, "Well, Lizzie, I, too, have another missive from your husband. He seems to be intent on keeping us apprised of his investigations in London. I never expected such civility from the gentleman. I am doubly heartened that he, himself, has kept up such a steady flow of correspondence with the both of us. His manner has been solicitous and courteous regardless of his past lack of communication."

"Yes, Papa, it has been surprising that he has condescended to write to me. The downside to this new interchange is that I, in turn, must respond to him, which has been a touch awkward, especially in the beginning. But I do appreciate knowing what is happening with their inquiries concerning Mr. Bingley. In addition, yesterday, he assured me that any of the servants at Chilton Cottage who are willing to accompany us to my new establishment will be offered positions."

She and Mary exchanged happy smiles, for they had become quite attached to the staff at their small home.

He opened the letter and perused it quietly. Then in some agitation, he retrieved the London newspaper and flipped through it impatiently, drawing Elizabeth's and Mary's attention. After pausing to read an article, he released a soft groan of consternation.

Realizing that his daughters were eyeing him curiously, he rubbed his forehead and asked, "Elizabeth, have you read Mr. Darcy's letter yet?"

She responded, "Not yet, Papa. Why do you ask?"

He winced, and then said, "You might want to go ahead and read it now. There is something that is of a delicate nature in the one that he sent to me, and no doubt, yours contains the same news."

Truly alarmed she found the letter and opened it. At her father's urging, she read past the greeting and customary opening lines until she came to the news that her father was, most certainly, alluding to.

Mr. Darcy wrote:

The following article appeared in the today's society section of the London Times:

"Mr. D, our newlywed from Derbyshire, has been dazzling us with his presence about town this season. Never before has this aloof gentleman appeared so affable and friendly. Said new bridegroom has appeared all over town, at multiple venues, sans wife. In fact, Mrs. D has not been on the scene at all due to a mysterious affliction keeping her conveniently in the country. However, the new widow, Lady F has been the recipient of many of Mr. D's smiles and has been seen on his arm on several occasions. She seems to be able to comfort the lonesome groom while his bride recuperates in the country."

He continued:

I wanted to immediately make you aware of this and to assure you that the insinuations contained in this disgusting article are untrue. Regardless of the circumstances of our union, I hold our vows to be sacred and would never conduct myself in the vile way that the news piece insinuates. The lady referred to is no more than the slightest of acquaintances.

In light of all the adversity that you have suffered due to your association with me, I must, again, express how sorry I am that you have to endure this indignity. Richard and I spoke to the clerk at the London Times who interviewed the person who submitted the information. Based on their description, it is apparent that the informants were Charles and Caroline Bingley. So once more, he is trying to sully my reputation and cast a poor light on our marriage. My uncle, the Earl of Matlock, has submitted a piece that will hopefully put paid to the salacious insinuations of the first piece. In addition, my aunt has rallied a formidable set of London's leading ladies to refute the claims made in the paper.

The rest of the letter contained details about their investigations and plans for bringing Bingley to justice for his crimes.

Glancing between her father and her sister, she stammered, "W-well…um…" but was unable to form a complete thought due to the conflicting feelings that she was experiencing. Mary read through the letter quickly and tossed it aside in disgust. "Those Bingleys are evil. I cannot believe the depths of their depravity."

Mr. Bennet nodded in agreement, took Elizabeth's hand, and said "Lizzy, I am sorry, dear girl. Society is a poisonous entity, and I regret that you had to marry into it. However, I believe your husband's account is true, and I am convinced that nothing nefarious actually occurred. This nonsense is simply the way these gossip rags work. It is all about hints and innuendo. They do not care if they print the truth. They only desire to sell more newspapers. And Bingley has used their greed as another weapon against you and your husband."

She gave him a skeptical look before carefully placing the paper on the side table and nervously picking at her gown. She remained silent for a few moments as she digested the suggestions made in the article.

Finally, she felt capable of voicing her thoughts. "I honestly do not know how I feel about this, Papa. What if some of it is true? What if he was attracted to this other lady? After all, our marriage is not normal." She paused for another moment and then softly spoke, "It is strange to say this in light of our estrangement, but perhaps, what I am feeling is a touch of jealousy and embarrassment. I do not know why I would feel jealous. It makes no sense."

Her father said earnestly, "See here, my Lizzy. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You have done nothing to deserve this. And you have a right to be jealous, regardless of the state of your marriage. Fidelity in marriage is a right that, as a wife, you should be able to demand from your partner. I maintain that, regardless of his volatile temper, he is an honorable and very circumspect young man. I sincerely doubt that he did anything inappropriate. But you should not feel guilty for demanding that he honor his vows. Jealousy is a natural emotion that any married couple experiences. But I would wager my ownership of Longbourn that this article is rubbish, especially since it was submitted by the Bingleys."

Elizabeth could not bring herself to look at her father, but she nodded her head while she tried to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. A maddening tear escaped and rolled down her cheek which was soon followed by a sob, prompting her father to enfold her in his arms. The dam in her heart seemed to burst and she began to weep on his shoulder. He patiently patted her on her back and let her expend all of the grief, loss, and shame that she had been holding in for the past four months. In between sobs, she talked in an incomprehensible manner. He and Mary were able to discern words and phrases here and there that sounded like, "abandoned", and "cliché", and "unwanted wife", and "tolerable", and "degradation", and "polluted shades".

After another five minutes, her weeping had been reduced to a few shudders, sniffles, and hiccups. Having soaked her own handkerchief, she wiped her eyes with the one her father gave her.

Mary squeezed her hand and said, "Never fear, Lizzy. You are strong. You are the most formidable young lady that I know. As much as I do not particularly like your husband, I do not think that he is guilty of such sordid behavior. I may consider him to be despicable for his past actions, but I do agree with Papa on this." Then she smiled slyly and added, "And just think, you can look forward to spending his money on an entire new wardrobe. It is only your due after everything he has put you through."

ppp

For the inhabitants of Chilton Cottage, the next several days were uneventful and peaceful. The sisters were delighted to spend time with their father and were relieved to hear the details of all the changes that he had instigated in the household at Longbourn. His actions were especially welcomed by Mary and Elizabeth, for they had long wished that he would take control of their unruly sisters and curb the spendthrift ways of their mother.

He informed them, "I am determined to rein in your sisters and your mother's spending no matter how shrill their complaints become. In addition, I have cut back on your younger sisters' social engagements. They are far too young to be out, and I should have done something long ago. Also, I have impressed upon your mother how important it is that she abide by my strictures and enforce them in my absence. The threat of further economies has her in greater fear than the dreaded entail. I feel certain that she will obey me and maintain my new rules."

They were in the library again, it being their father's favorite room in the cottage. Mr. Bennet smiled ruefully, then continued, "In the last letter that I sent to your uncle, I asked him to help me select a companion for them, especially Lydia. Since hearing the account of that monster that attacked you, I have, again, had to acknowledge how negligent I have been. The thought that Lydia, my baby girl, had that scoundrel, Wickham, working his charms on her is both repulsive and horrifying. He was right there in Meryton, under my very nose, plying her with pretty words in order to obtain information about our family. Thankfully, she knew nothing of significance. Yet, Wickham is not the only snake in the grass out there. I will no longer shirk my duty as father and protector of the family. I just hope it is not too late for Lydia. She is stubborn and will fight me on this, I am sure. If she cannot be brought under control by a companion, I will ship her off to some school for recalcitrant young ladies."

Elizabeth reached over and squeezed his hand, then she asked, "What of Jane, Papa? Has she regained her sweet disposition? I would hate to think that she is irreparably changed."

Her father frowned. "She keeps to herself mostly." He shrugged as he saw Elizabeth's pensive expression. "She is still much affected. I know that the Gardiners tried to draw her out at Christmas. But she refused to confide in your aunt. I am sorry that she blames you for her disappointed hopes. She had too quickly developed an attachment to Mr. Bingley which I blame on myself and your mother. I should have reined in your mother's inflated expectations, and she should not have talked the scoundrel up so. Whatever might have happened, it is all for naught. For we now know why he was so quick to withdraw his affections, if he ever truly felt any towards Jane."

"I wonder if she might gain some closure if you tell her all that has transpired this week and reveal Mr. Bingley's role in the compromise and conspiracy to ruin me. I hate to see her descend into depression and cynicism. She has always been so sweet and trusting, so serene."

Mary looked at her elder sister dubiously before saying, "Lizzie, I know that to you she has always been the epitome of the kind, loving sister, but I have always found her to be distant and unapproachable. She may use sweet words and behave with pretty manners, but she has always worn her serenity like a cloak to hide her coldness. Only you have not seen her as she is. Lydia, Kitty, and I never considered her the paragon of virtue that you have. You were the elder sister who really cared for us as we were growing up, not Jane. You were the one who always took up for me when Lydia was insulting me. You were the one who cared enough to make some effort to teach us all proper comportment. I have never doubted that you cared for me as a sister should. Jane has ever looked on with an unattached angelic smile while making meaningless excuses for our behavior. She preferred to fold her hands while doing nothing of substance to save us from ourselves."

When a shocked Elizabeth made to protest, Mr. Bennet interjected, "Mary is correct. Her serenity does tend to mask her desire to keep everyone at arm's length. I suppose that it is another mark of my own failings. I allowed your mother to make her think that her beauty was the key to her happiness. Now, she has crashed up against reality and found that her beauty has not given her what she wanted. Like all of us, at some point, we have to face the hard truths of life. It would have happened to her eventually. It was inevitable. However, I am sorry that your friendship was a casualty to her education."

Elizabeth did not want to give any credence to their words and could only hope that they were wrong. However, she could not forget how abandoned she had felt when Jane had withdrawn her support. Gazing at him sadly, she said, with great regret, "Me too, Papa. Me too."

Over the course of the next several days, Elizabeth was able to reconcile herself to the fact that she would have to make her debut in London society. If she and Mr. Darcy were to ever have a normal marriage, they needed to ensure that no hint of scandal could be attached to their name. It was essential that they undo the treacherous damage caused by the Bingleys.

And as strange as it was, she found that she did want a normal marriage. Despite his previous treatment of her, she did not want to remain bitter, angry, and distrustful. For she, Elizabeth Rose Bennet Darcy, was not formed for ill humor. She was meant to love and be loved. She wanted to live in harmony with her lawfully wedded husband. She wished most heartily for felicity in marriage.

Yet, there were three things that were required for true felicity in the wedded state: love, respect, and trust. And for the Darcys, these attributes seemed to be elusive. Presently, she did not love Fitzwilliam Darcy. Nay, she barely liked him. Mayhap, she might be coming to respect him, for she could see that, at his core, he was honorable. However, she most assuredly did not trust him. She could only hope and pray that those things would come.

With that in mind, she was coming to know him better through the letters that he wrote to her on a daily basis. Being a man of great wealth, he employed his own trusted servants as couriers. Therefore, it meant that they had great freedom in putting into writing those subjects that would have been too scandalous to be trusted to the mail. Granted, they were not love letters. They could not even be classified as friendly letters. But they appealed to her in that she sensed that he earnestly sought to communicate with her. Although they were seemingly dry accounts of the details of their activities in town, they were also interspersed with his thoughts and insights, his reflections about their theories, his sadness at the loss of his friend, and even his admiration of her. Without overly flowery words he commended her for her forbearance and thanked her for her forgiveness and understanding. These comments were made in an off-hand manner, as if he was merely stating well-known facts. This frankness strangely enticed her in ways that went beyond pretty words. It made her feel respected. And to be respected, especially by her husband, went far beyond mere flattery.

Likewise, she was more at ease in her responses to his letters. The length of their letters grew throughout that first week and into the second. She quickly gained enough confidence to voice her reservations concerning her ability to face the Ton. Together they came to agree on a timeline for when her move to town would occur. She agreed to spend a month in town, but she insisted that after that month, he follow through with moving her to another, more suitable, place in the country. He had reassured her that he understood her reticence and that she would be the one to decide when and if they might seek a closer relationship.

Regardless, the majority of their correspondence focused on the investigation. They engaged in serious conversations about the time-frame surrounding the more immediate resolution of the conspiracy investigation and the best method for dispensing justice to the miscreants involved. Now that it was certain that Caroline Bingley had been implicated beyond simply spiking their drinks, proper retaliation had to be considered for her as well as Charles and Wickham. It had not yet been determined how much Louisa and her husband were involved.

Elizabeth could admit to herself that these letters had given them the opportunity to begin to heal the very raw feelings of anger, hurt, and distrust that had made face-to-face conversations nearly impossible. These first steps encouraged her and gave her a glimmer of hope that they could become friends at the very least.