Chapter 17

October 8, 1811

 

Darcy placed the teapot on a tray with two cups before heading outside to join his wife in the garden.  There was a briskness that was settling into the night’s air. The harvest at Netherfield had been good, and according to the most recent correspondence Darcy had received from his steward, Pemberley’s harvest had been just as good and things there were well in hand. Confident in the knowledge that all was well in Derbyshire, Darcy and Elizabeth’s stay in Hertfordshire had been extended so they could be in attendance at the double ceremony for Elizabeth’s sisters.  Now, the newlywed couples were ensconced at their estates and the Darcys were prepared to leave for London where they would spend two weeks visiting the Gardiners and the Fitzwilliams as well as greeting whatever members of society were in town before travelling to Pemberley with Georgiana.

Upon exiting the cottage, Darcy leaned against the frame of the entrance and admired his wife as she sat illuminated by the glow of the lantern Jeremiah had hung on the post next to the bench.

He was glad she finally felt confident enough to sit there unattended by more than a footman.  It had been difficult for her at first.  Even as he would sit beside her, she would constantly look off into the woods or startle at the sounds about her.  Now she sat in a most relaxed position, studying the stars and rubbing the small swell of her abdomen, occasionally looking down at her hand and speaking to it.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Jeremiah.

Darcy moved to the side and watched as Jeremiah walked into the house.  At one point shortly after the abduction, the man had developed a fever which nearly claimed his life, but he had recovered.  A slight limp in his gait was all that remained visible of the attack he had endured and that would all but disappear as his strength improved.

Hearing the sound of voices and the door closing, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at Darcy.  “You can see the stars better from over here, Fitzwilliam.”

“I am quite certain I have the best view in the garden, for my prospect is quite heavenly.”

Elizabeth laughed and beckoned to him with her hand.  “Such flattery, sir.”

“I speak only the truth, my dear.”  He moved to join her on the bench.

“Then I shall listen much better to your pretty words when you are here to help keep the night’s chill off me.”

Darcy straddled the bench so he could move in as closely to her as possible.  Wrapping his arms about her and drawing her to him, he asked, “Are you cold?  Shall we go in?”

“I am quite warm now.  I should like to remain out for just a while longer.”

“Very well.  But, I do not wish for you to catch a chill.”

“I have a hearty constitution, sir.  Aside from the unpleasantness associated with my current condition, I have rarely been ill, and I have been chilled, often to the bone, on several occasions.  The rain has caught me unawares many times on my rambles through the countryside.”

She yawned.  “I will admit to being rather tired.  This little one, though no bigger than a bump, is already making his presence known by tiring out his mama.”

Darcy slid a hand down to rub the slight swell of her abdomen.  “His?  Are you so certain already that our child shall be a son?”

“No, I am not certain, but I am hopeful.  I have always dreamt of having a son, though my mother has often claimed we are all doomed to repeat her failure and produce only girls.”  She rested her hand on top of his. “And you, sir, for what do you wish?  A son or a daughter?”

“I shall be happy to have a house filled with our children, be they sons or daughters.  I do not, however, agree with your mother.  Producing only girls would not be a failure.  Especially, if they were to take after their mother for she is both bright and beautiful.”

Elizabeth looked up at him with amusement in her eyes.  “Take care, sir.  You may not be happy should you get that wish.”

“And why is that, my dear?”

“I was not an easy child.  It may be better to wish they were all like their father.”

“So, you believe I was a well-behaved lad, do you?”

“Were you not?”

“Not always.  I was particularly known for getting into mischief when Richard was visiting, but I assure you I created plenty of trouble on my own.”

“Indeed?  I shall have to ask your cousin about this when next I see him. Is he to be in town while we are at Darcy House?”

“I truly never know when he is going to appear or disappear, but he is aware we will be in town and will make a point to visit if he is able.”

“His work is so secretive then?”

“It seems to be.”

“What do you suppose he does?”  She rested her head against her husband’s shoulder and looked up at him.  “He is no longer in the regulars — he has said as much.”

She tapped her chin with a finger.  “Whomever it is that he works for must be of great importance since the whole business with Mrs. Younge and Wickham was dealt with so discreetly.  I wonder if whomever it is he works with has a base-born child that was preyed upon by the pair, or if he fell victim to thievery at the hands of one of that woman Isabella’s lady-birds? Or perhaps…”

“You have made your point,” Darcy interrupted. “I do not know if I could survive a house full of children with minds as inquisitive as yours.”

“I was not trying to make that point, Mr. Darcy,” she said curtly. “I was trying to reason out in what sort of business Richard is involved.”

“If we were to know, he would tell us.  Can we not leave it at that?”

Elizabeth made a small grumbling noise that was cut off by a yawn.

“And where did you learn such language as lady-birds and base-born? I dare say your father did not teach you those.”

She smiled mischievously at him. “I have learned those and several other interesting words from your cousins.  They did not always know I was listening.”

Darcy shook his head.  “I am sure such a skill will aid you as a mother.  I almost feel sorry for our children.  Their schemes shall always be known.”  He rubbed her abdomen once again.  “Do you hear that little one?  You shall not be able to trick your mother.  She is far too capable at deduction.”

She yawned again.  “Do not tell him.  I do not wish for my children to know in advance, or they may develop methods to thwart me.  It is better that they are unaware of my accomplishments.”

He kissed her on the cheek.  “Come, my dearest.  The tea I made should be lukewarm or cooler by now.  A biscuit and a cup of the midwife’s tea, once now, and again in the morning, will ease your stomach and save you some unpleasantness.”  He stood and reached for the lantern.

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.  “Lukewarm tea,” she grumbled.

“Is only good for watering the roses, or so Mrs. Reynolds declares.” He extended his hand to help her to her feet. “My uncle once told me she got that saying from a young girl who had visited Pemberley.  You would not happen to know to whom he referred, would you?” He teased.

“Oh, I do hope she will not hold my impertinence against me.”  There was an anxious tone to her voice that discomfited Darcy.

“She has always repeated that phrase with a smile on her face, my love,” he assured her. “I am certain she took no offense.”

She drew her eyebrows together as if in thought.  “Is Amos still at Pemberley?”

“Yes, there is an Amos.  Did you meet him, as well?”

Elizabeth nodded.  They had reached the house and Darcy held the door as Elizabeth entered.  “He was given the task of making sure I remained in the library while our fathers and uncles met.”

“That explains it!”

“Explains what?”

“Whenever I give a task to any servant which I worry may be too difficult, I ask if they think it is possible and if they think they shall need assistance.  Amos has often answered that it cannot be more difficult than keeping a girl in a library when she wishes to be in the garden.  I had always thought it was just a phrase he had heard while growing up.  But, you must have wished to venture out of doors?”

Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured.  “I was rather difficult, but he was up for the challenge.  It was as if he anticipated each move I made before I made it.”

Darcy laughed.  “I may not be paying him enough or using him to his full potential if he is quick-minded enough to out maneuver you.”

Elizabeth picked up the tea tray.  “I fear to know what tales you shall hear when we visit Lambton.  I spent many days visiting with the Allens.   I guess I shall have to be somewhat mollified that there will be those about who might also share a tale or two about you.”

As they reached the stairs, Darcy surveyed the tea tray.  It contained one pot of tea — enough for tonight and again when Elizabeth rose in the morning — two cups and a rather large bowl of shortbreads.

“That seems to be an overabundance of biscuits.  Are you hungry?  Should I make you something more substantial to eat?”

“No, Fitzwilliam,  I shall have my two biscuits now and my two biscuits in the morning as instructed, but I thought perhaps I might get hungry between now and then.  I am not planning to sleep right away.”  She looked over her shoulder at him as she reached the top of the stairs and walked to their bedchamber’s door.

“But you are tired and need your rest.  We travel to London in the morning.”  He opened the door and placed the candle he held on the table near the door before taking the tray from her and putting it next to the candle.

“It is my last night at Oxford Cottage, and I had hoped to spend it enjoyably engaged with my husband in our bedchamber.   However, if you are too tired, and wish to sleep…”

He leaned forward and kissed her gently as he pushed the door closed.  He ran his hands down her sides and then caressed her abdomen.  “Perhaps we could water this rose…”

“Or sweet william,” she interjected.

“Mmm.  Or sweet william, later.”  His hands had come around behind her to pull her close and were already working the fastening of her dress.  “Cold tea must be just as good as lukewarm?”  He kissed her earlobe as he whispered into her ear.

His breath tickled her ear, and she shivered.  “Indeed, I think cold tea is even better,” she agreed.

He began to slide her sleeves down her arms as he placed kisses along her neck and shoulders.

“In fact,” she said, her hands working just as deftly at his clothing.  “I think cold tea may soon become my favourite.”

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

It was not the sun filtering through the window and across his face which woke Darcy.  It was not even the cold emptiness at his left side which stirred him.  It was the unpleasant, but all too familiar, sound of retching.  Within moments, he was out of bed, tying on his robe and getting a cool cloth.  Coming behind Elizabeth, he wrapped one arm around her waist as he knew she would soon feel weak.

Elizabeth sank against his strong form.  The violence with which her stomach had roiled subsided, and Darcy carefully helped her to the bed.  When she was seated upon the bed with pillows stacked at her back, he gently wiped her face with the cool cloth and placed a kiss upon her forehead. She attempted to smile, but her strength was so little that it was not a full smile.

“Have you had your tea?”

“No, I was trying to finish my writing.  I did not wish to disturb you with the clinking of pot and cups.  It was foolish.”

Darcy was across the room and pouring tea into a cup.  “Do you think your stomach could accept a biscuit?  I would venture that you did not eat either.”

She looked at him sheepishly.  “I shall try a biscuit.  It seems it is much harder to expel the contents of an empty stomach than it is a full one.”

He placed a biscuit in her hand and held the teacup to her lips.  “Drink but in sips, and eat but in nibbles,” he instructed.  “An angry stomach must be coaxed into acceptance.”

She took a sip of the tea and a small bite of the shortbread.  “Thank you.”

He looked at her in concern.  “Are you sure you are now well?  Shall I send for Mrs. Locke?”

“I am well, Fitzwilliam.  Mrs. Locke has assured me it is quite normal to be so ill for the first few months.  And Mama has told me it is a good sign.  She was violently ill with all but one of her six pregnancies, and that one did not carry to completion.  While it is no guarantee all will be well, it is a reassurance.”  She reached up and stroked the crease between his brows.  “Do not fret.  I shall remember to follow Mrs. Locke’s instructions to eat and drink frequently.”  She took another bite of the shortbread and accepted another sip of tea.

“You said you were writing?” Darcy looked toward the window where the writing desk stood to take advantage of the best light creation could offer.  “What were you writing?”

“I was finishing the tale of how you and I met.  I wished to complete it while I was here, so I might look upon the places which hold such pleasant memories.” She continued to eat and sip her tea.

“And memories that are not so pleasant as well,” said Darcy, looking at the door where he had stood with Mary on the awful morning when the abduction had been discovered.

She nodded.  “I choose to remember the pleasant ones.  Dwelling on the unpleasant will only produce melancholy, and I am not made for such sentiment.”

Darcy took her empty teacup and placed it on the table by the door.  Picking up another biscuit, he returned to sit near her on the bed and insisted she eat it.  “I shall dress and ensure a more substantial meal is brought to you.  Do you wish for me to call Hannah?  Are you well enough that you might dress?”

“I shall have to dress, Fitzwilliam, for it is highly improper for a lady, even one who is with child, to ride in a carriage to London in naught but her dressing gown.”  She laughed.

“It might be improper, but I would not be displeased.”  He smiled archly at her.

She gave his arm a playful swat as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stood slowly, testing her legs for stability.  Assured that her body was recovered from its earlier weakness, she moved toward the door.  “You may summon Hannah, but there is no need for a tray.  I shall join you to break my fast as soon as I am dressed.”  She sighed.  “I shall miss this seclusion and the independence we have had here.  I doubt your cook in London or at Pemberley will welcome my intrusion to make my own meals.”

He had reached the door before she did.  “If we wish privacy.  There is a hunting cabin located in the woods at Pemberley.”  He pulled the door open. “For now, you must dress and eat while Jeremiah and Alfred see to the loading of the carriages. We should leave soon if you are well.  Mrs. Locke said we might have to stop more frequently depending on how the little one takes to travel.”  As easily as stepping through the doorway into the hall, he had stepped back into the role of master, arranging and overseeing things so that they best-met everyone’s needs.  He held open the door to the room that had been made into Elizabeth’s dressing room and pulled the bell to summon Hannah.  He waited until he saw she was seated before closing the door and walking to his own dressing room.

Shaven and dressed, he inspected the ropes securing their possessions to the carriages.  Satisfied, he extended his hand to Jeremiah and Alfred in turn, thanking them for their services.  He then entered the cottage again and took a meal with Elizabeth, watching carefully that she ate well, and then asking Millie if she would pack a basket of food from which they could eat while on the road.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

Elizabeth tied the string tightly around the precious book which had been a gift from Darcy’s father.

“Did you finish your tale, my dear?” asked Darcy as he entered their bedchamber.

She smiled.  “I did.  Our children and grandchildren will know of the magical place called Oxford Cottage in Hertfordshire where love blossoms and blooms.”    She placed the book on the bed and wrapped her arms around her husband.  “This place shall always hold a very special place in my heart for it is where I met you.”