fluttery at the prospect, having never shopped in Town. A couple of references to baby furniture and clothing were made, but Caroline was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not note them.
The meal ended without further mishap, everyone in the party retiring to the music room. Georgiana and Mary played a couple of duets they had been practicing, Mary displaying an increased aptitude under Georgiana's gentle instruction. The ladies each sang a couple of songs. Caroline chose a particularly romantic ballad, performed brilliantly as she did possess a stunning alto; however, as her eyes alit on Darcy a great portion of the time, it was uncomfortable for all. Darcy's face was a mask of dark disapproval, fingers warm and tense on the nape of Lizzy's neck. Bingley quickly challenged Darcy to a game of chess, breaking up the musical entertainment session.
Mary, Georgiana, and Kitty continued to play and sing softly in the background while Jane, Lizzy, and Caroline sat on the settees and drank tea.
“Do you have any idea what Mr. Darcy has planned for you tomorrow Lizzy?” Jane asked.
“Not one iota. He has been immeasurably secretive about the affair and rather smug about it all to boot. All I know for certain is that we are dining with Lord and Lady Matlock, but I have no clue as to whether they even know it is my birthday.”
“Tomorrow is your birthday? How lovely,” Caroline murmured. “Mr. Darcy has planned a surprise, I take it?”
Lizzy laughed. “Oh yes! I joked when I surprised him on his birthday November last that he had six months to plan my surprise and I rather think he took me at my word! He has been scribbling notes and sending couriers hither and yon, asking me all sorts of innocent questions about previous trips to London.” Lizzy shook her head and glanced fondly at her spouse, currently scowling in concentration at the chess table before him.
Caroline felt ill. “You have become well acquainted with Lord and Lady Matlock, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Yes. They live quite close to Pemberley, as I am sure you know. They spent Christmas with us, along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and we dined with them frequently over the winter and spring. Have you been so fortunate as to make their acquaintance, Miss Bingley?” Lizzy did not mention how attentive Lady Matlock had been during her recovery, nor the role Lord Matlock played in the Orman fiasco. These were painful topics and she did not wish to discuss them with Caroline.
“At a few social gatherings, yes. Has the breach been healed with Lady Catherine?”
Jane inhaled sharply and Lizzy's smile froze. After an uncomfortable pause: “This is a private matter, Miss Bingley. It would be best not to pursue.”
“Of course, I understand. It is just so sad when families have these little feuds leading to gulfs in the relationship. I know how close Mr. Darcy has been to his aunt over the years so can only imagine how painful it must be for him to suffer this schism.” She shook her head mournfully, internally rejoicing at the grim cast to Elizabeth's face. “Sadly, one must live with the consequences of one's choices in life, no matter how regretful they may be.”
“I can assure you, Miss Bingley, my husband has no regrets. You presume too much in declaring any knowledge of Mr. Darcy's feelings on this or any matter. I would caution you, as a friend, to remember this.” Lizzy smiled sweetly and took a sip of tea, turning then to Jane. “Has Charles made a choice of decorator, Jane? William was mentioning Klaus Breihmer or perhaps Jonathon Worthington. They apparently have fabulous reputations.” They then launched into a discussion of redecorating the Bingley townhouse, which gave Caroline something new to complain about.
It was a warm evening, and although the windows were opened, no breeze was forthcoming. Elizabeth fanned herself continuously but began to experience a vague light-headedness and faint headache. Hoping to forestall a more serious affliction, she whispered to Jane that she needed to retreat to the terrace for some fresh air. Caroline had moved to the pianoforte to listen to Georgiana, glancing up as a pale and trembling Elizabeth, after a pointed visual exchange with Mr. Darcy, slipped out the door. Darcy rose quickly and followed his wife, anxiety written all over his face.
Caroline was overcome with curiosity. “Is Mrs. Darcy unwell?”
Georgiana beamed. “Nothing serious. She is actually getting better each day, and the physician says the symptoms should pass soon.”
“She has needed a physician? How terrible. She always appeared so healthy and strong. Country stock, they say, usually has greater fortitude. Poor Mr. Darcy! No wondered he appears so dismayed.” She tsked.
Kitty flared. “My sister is with child, Miss Bingley, not unhealthy. Mr. Darcy is concerned, not dismayed.”
Caroline turned white as a ghost, mouth falling open. “Please excuse me.” She exited the room, feeling faint herself.
She stood in a darkened alcove in the hallway, breathing heavily and unaware of her surroundings for several minutes. Gradually, her misty eyes focused, spying Darcy and Elizabeth on the balcony.
Elizabeth sat on the stone bench, leaning against the wall with eyes closed, Darcy kneeling in front. He was fanning her vigorously and holding her hand.
“Thank you, beloved. That truly helps.”
“Do you need something cold to drink, my love?”
She opened her eyes and smiled, softly caressing his cheek. “It is passing. Here, sit next to me.” She patted the bench and he complied, leaning first to plant a kiss to her lower abdomen. He sat near, circling an arm about her shoulders and drawing her close. He kissed her forehead, free hand gently rubbing her belly.
Lizzy sighed and shut her eyes. “I think I am just tired. My mistake. I felt so well today that I did not nap and now it is catching up with me.” One hand lay on his inner thigh, the other over his caressing one.
“As soon as you wish, we shall extend our apologies and go home. Jane and Charles will understand. Then I can hold you in my arms and ensure you sleep the night through.”
“Hmmm. What a delightful thought. I want to be well rested for tomorrow.”
He smiled, burying his face in her hair and kissing softly. “I have planned an easy day, my heart. Nothing too strenuous. Just you and me, alone, with plenty of opportunities for me to tell you how deeply I love you.”
Elizabeth lifted her face to his with an unabashed glow of love. He cupped her cheek, running a thumb over her lips and chin. “Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered, meeting her mouth with a tender but thorough kiss.
Caroline observed and heard it all, a fist at her mouth preventing the choked sob from escaping. With a lurch she retreated to the first room available, the dark library. Never in all her life had she witnessed such a scene. With a stab to her heart she nonetheless recognized it for what it was: love. The elusive emotion spoken of in fairy tales and poems and songs, but rarely seen, at least so openly. Caroline did not quite know what to feel. The anger at losing Mr. Darcy was still there, the resentment at the inferior ranked country chit for becoming Mistress of Pemberley remained, yet she could not deny what she had seen. They truly loved each other. Any interpretations of enchantment or nefarious designs were baseless.
For the first time in her life, Caroline Bingley wondered if such an emotion could be hers. She visualized their countenances as they gazed at each other and her stony, selfish heart melted minutely. Still, she quickly reasoned, what profit is love without status and wealth? With much to ponder, Caroline sought the sanctuary of her bedchamber. Only time would reveal if these epiphanies would usher in a permanent character alteration.
Chapter Seven
Gracefully escaping from the Bingley Townhouse was an easy task, all parties solicitous of Lizzy's needs. No one commented on Caroline's absence; in truth, only Charles noted her omission from the group. Once safely returned to Darcy House, Darcy ordered his wife to their chamber while he bid the girls wishes for pleasant dreams and performed the ritual task of assuring the house was secure. Lizzy sat on the balcony sofa when Darcy rejoined her, patting the waiting space next to her.
“Night dreaming, my love?” he asked with a soft kiss to her temple.
“Speculating on the morrow and recollecting your birthday. I did surprise you greatly, did I not, William?” She turned, draping her legs over his lap. He smiled, beginning his nightly custom of fondling her belly gently.
