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Chapter 14

Lizzy awoke the next day to a bright and beautiful morning, her husband already up and dressed, sitting at the desk in their room, writing a note. “Oh good, you’re awake.” He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her tenderly. “How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked, thinking to himself that she looked very drained.

“I feel a bit tired.” She squinted back at him through sleepy eyes.

“I was just leaving you a note. Fitzwilliam and I are off for the morning to check on some timber problems. I have arranged for you to have your breakfast brought up here, and I would like you to spend this entire morning, at the very least, in bed and resting. Is that understood?”

Groggily nodding, she scratched her ear then lifted herself up on her elbow, foggy about what she had just agreed to and even where they were. She pushed her hair back to look blankly about the room and shrugged. “Yes, your lordship.” She plopped her head back down on the pillow. A loud, indelicate yawn caused her husband to laugh.

“That’s my girl,” he said, kissed her, and was off.

***

Within an hour of his departure, Lizzy was up, dressed, and downstairs, ready for breakfast. “Lizzy, I had heard you would be staying abed today.” Her father was surprised to see her in her walking shoes. He and Lady Catherine were sitting alone at the breakfast table.

“I cannot imagine why you would think that, Father, especially on a beautiful day such as this. Good morning, Aunt Catherine.” Lady Catherine smiled broadly at Lizzy. “I believe William was somewhat concerned about my swollen feet, but as it happens, they are quite acceptable today, so I am going out.”

“Well done, Elizabeth. I don’t approve of lying about, nor would I allow unnecessary swelling in any part of my body, especially feet—very bad for the posture. There is no profit in assigning physical limitations upon oneself or in behaving as if one were an invalid. My own daughter, Anne, would have been a great exercise enthusiast if it were not for her own large feet. Quite threw off her balance.”

“Elizabeth, where are you off to?” Lizzy’s father began to rise, seized by a growing panic at being left behind.

Lizzy thanked the footman who set her breakfast dish before her and then grabbed several pieces of toast. “I thought I would cross the park and visit Charlotte Collins to see her new little one. Won’t you join me, Father? I am sure our cousin, Mr. Collins, will be there, and it must be ‘interesting’ to hear his ideas on child rearing.” Lizzy smiled at the apparent relief on the face of her father.

“Of course, I have provided Mr. Collins with all of his ideas, including those on child rearing. It is best not to leave that sort of business to new parents. Anne and I will join you.” Mr. Bennet’s eyes crossed. Although Catherine de Bourgh had proved a much more enjoyable companion than expected, the thought of both her and Mr. Collins within the same room was more than anyone could be expected to endure.

“Are you not awaiting Fitzwilliam and Darcy to return with their observations from this morning’s inspection? And then, of course, Darcy still has to finish his notes from the other night.”

“You are absolutely correct, Elizabeth. My, your vigilance toward Rosings is most admirable. Yes, I am sure that Fitzwilliam and Darcy will both want to get my input into whatever their observations are. I am afraid, Horace, that you will have to proceed without me.”

A visibly relieved Mr. Bennet quickly regained his composure. “What a great disappointment this will be to Mr. Collins and his good wife.”

“Of course it will be, the poor dears. However, they will join us tomorrow for dinner. Make sure they know this. I so hate disappointing those beneath me, you know.”

***

Mr. Bennet deeply regretted not remaining at home with Lady Catherine. He felt miserable and trapped and duped by the fates. In his arms lay Charlotte’s wriggly baby, Everett, a happy, rambunctious infant who was at the moment enthralled with Mr. Bennet’s nose, attempting to force his little fingers inside. In fact, they were all feeling miserable and trapped, obligatory listeners as they were to the Reverend Mr. Collins’s rapturous description of darling Everett’s latest bowel movement.

Everett was an incredibly beautiful child, much to everyone’s surprise, except for his adoring parents, of course. “He is my life and my joy, Lizzy,” Charlotte whispered. “He has made everything worthwhile.” With that said, she glanced meaningfully at her husband and then back at her boy. “How are you feeling, Lizzy? You look exceptionally tired today; are you getting enough rest? You know this childbearing is not as easily accomplished as we thought as young girls.” Charlotte and Elizabeth were snatching snippets of conversation the moment the reverend turned his back. At this time, he was reaching for a shelf behind him, searching for his Bible.

Lizzy grinned and hastily whispered back when Mr. Collins turned his head to sneeze several times from his allergies, “I am feeling fine, Charlotte. However, I do find I am often in possession of not only titanic feet but also a baby suddenly leaping about whenever he hears his father’s voice.” Charlotte and Lizzy giggled toward the floor.

After a few more minutes of Mr. Collins’s monotonous monologue, he suddenly closed his eyes and raised his hands in deep supplication to the Lord. Lizzy leaned toward Charlotte. “I also have had some very troubling dreams that have caused me to wake in the middle of the night. That tires me more than anything.” Charlotte stared deeply into her friend’s eyes, sensing a troubled spirit.

“Mr. Collins, could you and Mr. Bennet please excuse us? Forgive me, dear, but I must have a private moment with Elizabeth.” Mr. Collins looked reprovingly at his wife, unhappy with this interruption of his personal address with God, while Mr. Bennet gamely attempted to rouse himself from a trancelike stupor.

Charlotte took her baby from Lizzy, patting and kissing the child’s head as it nestled happily into her shoulder. At her husband’s continued silent reproof, she pronounced the sentence that no man on earth can withstand. “I am truly sorry, dear,” she whispered, “but it is regarding female trouble.” Mr. Collins’s face drained of all color. “Female trouble,” she mouthed once again, nodding.

With that, both Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennet quickly waved them off, avoiding at all costs any possibility of eye contact.

Alone outside in the sunshine and peace of her garden, Charlotte laughed softly. “I tell you, Lizzy, that is the most useful phrase I have learned as a married woman. No man seems to want to know about female trouble.”

Laughing, Lizzy made her way slowly to a secluded bench.

“Now, what is this about bad dreams? I find that most interesting. I know I had many dreadful nights when I was carrying Everett.”

Lizzy hesitated at first but then confided to her friend about her concerns with Caroline Bingley and Darcy, hinting broadly at their relationship years ago. She said she sometimes found herself dreaming of them together, or of her strangling and disemboweling the meddlesome redheaded witch, slicing open her throat or gouging out her eyes. Charlotte’s eyes opened wider and wider with each description of mayhem.

“Well, that is rather serious, I suppose. Oh, but, Lizzy, you cannot really believe that Darcy would betray you. He is so much in love with you that he would never consider hurting you, and it is not in his character to deceive.”

Lizzy smiled as she leaned her head back, letting the sunshine wash over her for a moment. “Oh, be honest, Charlotte. Don’t you think it is within everyone’s character at some point to deceive? Whether it be for good intentions or bad is the telling point, but I do agree that he would never deliberately hurt me or disgrace his family.”