step ahead of her. Though upon the physician’s departure Elizabeth had reverted to his original dictate of restricting herself to sitting within the house — the subsequent order of confinement to bed having, in her mind, resulted solely from his fit of pique — the command had rendered it nearly impossible to monitor Darcy’s aunt. Her ladyship moved about Pemberley too freely, and consequently had caught her in more than one falsehood regarding Darcy’s whereabouts. If Darcy did not return home on the morrow, Elizabeth doubted her ability to maintain the facade any longer.
“He was there earlier. He must have completed his letter.”
Lady Catherine stalked across the drawing room to plant herself in front of Elizabeth. “Does my nephew avoid me? Has he no respect for his aunt? No sensibility of the duties of a host to his guest? I have not seen him in weeks! Every time I seek him out, he has just left the room, or has requested not to be disturbed, or has retired for the evening. Is he truly so engaged every day that he cannot come to dinner?” She narrowed her eyes. “I begin to wonder if you play some game with me, Mrs. Darcy. I will not be taken for a fool.”
“I assure you, Lady Catherine, I play no game.” She found the burden of keeping up appearances not the least bit amusing.
“Hmph.” Lady Catherine settled herself into a chair.
Elizabeth returned to her own seat and picked up her book. She had originally come to the morning room for a change of environs as she wrote some letters of her own, but the glare of the sun at this particular hour drove her from the desk. The other side of the room had proven more hospitable, so she had sent a servant to retrieve the Chaucer volume from her apartment. After hearing Georgiana read Lady Eglentyne’s description from the opening of
“That is an enormous tome,” her ladyship declared. “What on earth do you read?”
“Geoffrey Chaucer.”
“Not those bawdy tales, I hope? Though I suppose you might find such matter diverting.”
The appearance of Mrs. Reynolds provided a welcome distraction. “You have visitors, ma’am. Your—”
“Lizzy!”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Mama! What a”—she swallowed—“delightful surprise.” Her father, an even more unexpected guest, also entered. “And Papa.” She mustered a smile. “I did not anticipate you for another month, Mama.”
“Now, Lizzy, you know babies come early sometimes. Look at Jane! If we waited another month I might miss all the excitement.”
That had been the general idea.
Elizabeth extricated herself from her seat once more and waddled forward to greet them. An embrace with her father proved awkward — her protruding middle preceded her into it by some distance — so she settled for grasping hands with her mother.
“Look at you!” Her mother beamed. “So fat!” She reached out and patted Elizabeth’s roundness. “Gracious, Lizzy, you are big as a house!”
Elizabeth’s smile became still more forced. “Thank you, Mama.”
Mrs. Bennet touched her belly again. “And you are carrying low — that means it is a boy! Mr. Bennet, we shall have another grandson!”
“Before you issue the announcements, my dear, I would remind you that you cited the same evidence five times to assure me you carried a son. And it all came to naught.”
“Oh, but I was never as plump as Lizzy!”
Perceiving that her mother’s hand threatened a third dart toward her abdomen, Elizabeth sidestepped the assault by turning toward Lady Catherine.
“Your ladyship, I believe you have met my mother.”
Lady Catherine acknowledged Mrs. Bennet with a nod and displayed enough civility to submit to an introduction to her father. When the formality had been performed, Elizabeth invited her parents to sit.
Her father, in passing, caught her arm and winked. “Your mother was plumper,” he whispered.
When all were comfortably settled, Elizabeth enquired after their journey.
“Oh, it was fair enough,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Though long. Did it not seem long to you, Mr. Bennet?”
“Indeed, it seemed much longer than when I traveled alone in August.”
“The roads were probably better in summer,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Did your ladyship find them agreeable?”
“Perfectly agreeable. My carriage is well sprung and comfortably outfitted.”
“Oh, yes! I recall admiring your chaise when you honored us with your visit to Longbourn.”
Lady Catherine offered no reply. Mrs. Bennet, who could never bear silence, cast about for another topic.
“We did not expect the pleasure of finding you at Pemberley, your ladyship. Are you come in anticipation of Elizabeth’s lying-in?”
Lady Catherine cast Elizabeth a pointed glance. “I have business with my nephew.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Mrs. Bennet smiled at Lady Catherine, but the disdainful stare she received in return discouraged her from gazing too long in her ladyship’s direction. She instead focused her admiration on Elizabeth’s belly. “Lizzy, how is Mr. Darcy? I hope he spoils you. A gentleman cannot indulge his wife too much when she is in a delicate condition.”
“He is quite well.”
“Surely he hopes for a son. Men always do, at least until they have an heir.” She sighed. “Lord knows we would have preferred to keep Longbourn in the family. Not that we begrudge Mr. Collins the entail,” she said emphatically, looking at Lady Catherine. The Bennet heir served as her ladyship’s rector back in Kent. “But for years I worried about what would become of us should misfortune take Mr. Bennet.”
“It comforts me exceedingly to know you spent so much time contemplating my demise,” he said.
“I never gave a thought to myself, mind you. But I agonized, as only a mother can — surely your ladyship sympathizes — over the futures of my five daughters, with no inheritance of their own and no brother to provide for them. What would have become of them? But now three are happily married, and Kitty too as soon as her young man is of an age to take orders. Poor Mr. Dashwood — he had a great fortune, but lost it in some confusing business in London last spring, so now he is gone into the church. However, with Jane and Elizabeth so well established, I hope Mary will find a rich young man who can hold on to his money.”
“I imagine you do,” Lady Catherine said coldly.
“Well, Lizzy, you shall have a boy, and Pemberley will be safe. Such a grand estate your Mr. Darcy has! I suppose he is off somewhere now attending to some important matter. Keeping track of all his money must occupy much of his time.”
“Mr. Darcy does manage to fit other pursuits into his schedule on occasion.” Such as clandestine excursions to Newcastle and Gloucestershire. Elizabeth hoped more fervently than ever that he would return soon. She did not feel herself equal to single-handedly entertaining both her mother and Lady Catherine at once.
“Papa, did you happen to visit Jane en route?” The Bingleys had recently quit Netherfield for their new estate in Staffordshire. Elizabeth anticipated with great pleasure a visit to her sister as soon as she was at liberty to travel once more.
“There, Mr. Bennet — see? Lizzy also thinks it would have been a good scheme. I long to see Jane’s new home, Lizzy, but your father insisted we allow her more time to establish her household. And then Jane herself said she was departing within a fortnight to come here for your lying-in. But that cannot be correct — it is a full two weeks earlier than you advised me to arrive.”
In sharing the estimated dates of her confinement, Elizabeth might have created a slight — and, of course, entirely unintentional — discrepancy between the information her sister and mother received. As if to reprove her, the baby awoke and practiced its pugilistic skills on the inside of her ribs, causing sharp pains that she was hard- pressed to conceal from her guests. Perhaps she carried a boy after all.
“Jane brings Nicholas, and wished to allow additional time to get settled at Pemberley before the arrival of a new cousin put the nursery at sixes and sevens.”
