Page 31 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Alexander’s Office

Parsonage

A Few Days Later

“Mr. Darcy is here, sir,” Mrs. Hayward said, and Alexander, who was working through his household accounts, rose to his feet and said, “Come in, sir, please, and sit down. Thank you, Mrs. Hayward.”

The housekeeper nodded and retreated out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Alexander stood up from his desk, walked over to the fireplace, and threw an extra log within, producing a welcome burst of heat. “Please, Mr. Darcy, do sit down.”

His patron did so, and Alexander sat across from him, and Darcy said, “How are you and your household, Wickham?”

His friend leaned back in his chair, blew out a breath, and said ruefully, “We are tired and likely to be more tired before this sickness ends. However, everyone but Gwendolyn, Lydia’s maid, has already had the measles, and so far, the girl is showing no signs of the disease.”

Darcy arched one eyebrow. “I was not aware that Mrs. Wickham had a personal maid.”

Alexander bit his lip and then said in a low tone, “Lydia is with child and extremely unwell. I chose to hire a maid to care for Lydia or else Elizabeth would be forced to manage her sister’s care, and Elizabeth has enough to do without that responsibility.”

Darcy’s eyes widened at this pronouncement, and, after a moment of cogitation, he asked, “Do you, erm, are you aware whether, erm…”

“The child is George’s,” Alexander said quietly, “but of course I will raise him or her as my own, with love and commitment.”

Darcy nodded and said, “I am sorry that Mrs. Wickham is feeling so poorly. You have a great deal on your shoulders, my friend, with your wife ill and this dreadful measles epidemic. Doctor Appleton has been sending me daily counts of cases, and it is definitely spreading throughout the countryside.”

“Yes, and quickly, unfortunately. I fear for the young doctor, that he will become overly exhausted with his work.”

“Well, as for that,” Darcy said, “I have arranged to have another doctor come from London to assist with this outbreak. I have also met with my steward, and we will be increasing the amount of assistance to the afflicted households.”

“You are generous, Darcy, and I am grateful for your kind support for them,” Alexander said.

Darcy shook his head. “It is an easy enough thing to spend money when there is a surplus. I consider it my duty to assist the people under my care, and I know that your task is heavier, as you bring succor and encouragement to your parishioners.”

“It is my honor to do so,” Alexander declared, and then grinned ruefully, “though I would not mind a little more sleep.”

Darcy chuckled and stood up. “I understand entirely. Now I need to return to Pemberley and speak with my steward.”

“Is Miss Darcy well?” Alexander asked, suddenly anxious.

“She is thus far, yes, but she has never had the measles so may well fall ill. For now, she is staying at Pemberley and not going out in public.”

“That seems wise. Would you care to enjoy tea with me before returning to Pemberley?”

Darcy looked outside and said, “That would be pleasant, if it will not put you out in any way.”

“Not at all. Indeed, I am confident Mrs. Hayward has already prepared for such an eventuality. Her efficiency astonishes me sometimes.”

Alexander rose, opened the door, and led his guest into the modest drawing room, just as the door opened to reveal the Elizabeth Bennet, her cheeks rosy, her fine eyes brightened by exercise, her garments still exuding the cold of the outside air.

Alexander was certain he was not imagining the gasp of wonder from Darcy at such a lovely sight, but he merely stepped forward and said, “Did you just return from visiting the tenants, Elizabeth?”

“I did,” she said and curtsied towards Mr. Darcy. “Good day, Mr. Darcy,” she said brightly.

“Good day, Miss Bennet,” Darcy replied, his eyes fixed on the lady’s exquisite countenance, his expression one of glazed wonder.

“How are the various families doing?” Alexander inquired, determined to allow his patron enough time to recover.

Elizabeth sighed and walked over to the fire, where she held out her hands to warm them. “Four of the Johansen children are ill now, and three of the Baskervilles, and apparently the Barstowes and Sinclairs are sickening as well. It is a dreadfully contagious disease.”

“It is,” Alexander agreed, just as Mrs. Hayward entered the room and asked, “Would you care for tea, Mr. Wickham?”

“Thank you, yes,” he said and turned to grin at his patron. “What did I tell you, Darcy? Mrs. Hayward knows what I want before I do so myself.”

The housekeeper bobbed her head, smiled and retreated, and he could tell that she was pleased at his compliments.

When Alexander turned back, he discovered that Elizabeth was seated by the fire, and Darcy had taken, not surprisingly, the chair closest to her. He took a third seat and suppressed a smile. He had long known Fitzwilliam Darcy to be a good man, and their shared childhood even made them old friends. Nonetheless, their positions in society were markedly different, and he had not spent a great deal of time with his patron in the last years, as Darcy was often away from Pemberley and also visited the church at Lambton on occasion.

Now that Miss Bennet was staying at the parsonage, Darcy was attending his church at Kympton every week and speaking to her at every opportunity. Alexander was of the view that Miss Bennet would be the perfect Mrs. Darcy, but that, of course, was not his decision to make.

“I hope that Miss Darcy does not come down with it,” Elizabeth said, and Alexander realized he had missed part of the conversation.

“I hope so as well, though perhaps she might as well fall ill with it now. Most people do have measles in their lifetime, after all. I confess to hating to think of her so sickly, however.”

“You are a good and kind brother,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “I wanted to thank you for lending me Knickerbocker’s History of New York . It was such an odd and interesting book, and I liked much, if not all, of it.”

“I thought the same,” Darcy agreed. “Parts of it are rather too absurd, but the writing style is unusual and of some interest, though with little historical accuracy.”

“Quite, although I confess I do not know a great deal about America, despite the fact that my father has collected a few books about famous Americans. Have you heard of Nathaniel Bowditch?”

Mr. Darcy had, and Alexander listened with amused interest as the pair discussed the American mathematician and astronomer at length. In the midst of their discourse, Mrs. Hayward entered with tea, and Elizabeth poured for the two men and then herself, while effortlessly continuing the conversation, which veered to navigation and then clock making.

Alexander knew little about such subjects. He was an eminently practical man and had not bothered to read more than was required for school, unless it had to do with his chosen profession or would be of assistance in serving his parishioners. He had never cared for novels or esoteric treatises about scurvy on naval ships or penguins in the Southern Seas. However, it was obvious that Darcy was thoroughly enjoying his conversation with a lady who was both widely read and entirely willing to express her true opinions, even if they differed from his.

Thirty minutes went by in cheerful discussion, and Darcy appeared genuinely surprised when he looked at his pocket watch.

“I had no idea it was so late,” he said, rising to his feet. “I have a meeting with my steward in an hour, so I had best return to Pemberley.”

Alexander rose as well and said, “Please give my greetings to Mr. Enfield.”

“I will,” Darcy replied, turning toward the door and then pausing.

He turned back a moment later and said, “Miss Bennet, I would be pleased to share my book on the Southern Seas and the wildlife therein, if you would be interested.”

“I would, very much,” Elizabeth answered with a grateful smile and sparkling eyes.

“Excellent. Perhaps you could come to Pemberley the next time you are out visiting the tenants? I know Georgiana would be happy to see you again.”

“That sounds marvelous, thank you,” Elizabeth replied.

***

Lydia’s Bedchamber

Parsonage at Kympton

Evening

Elizabeth closed the door carefully behind herself, sniffing discreetly as she did so. Lydia’s room often smelled vile from her illness, but the aroma today was, if rather too strong, at least not unpleasant. Sachets of potpourri had been tucked into drawers and cushions, and the fire scented the air with smoke as well as warming the room.

Lydia was reclined in the most comfortable chair, drawn up near the fire, a borrowed novel drooping from her hands. She looked around as the door shut, and Elizabeth heaved a breath of relief that, though her sister’s face was pale, Lydia was at least not weeping. The illness was hitting her hard, and Lydia, never stoic about feeling unwell at the best of times, did not always handle the chronic fatigue and nausea gracefully. Elizabeth did her best to be sympathetic, but the incessant whining did eventually grate.

Elizabeth crossed the room with a faint encouraging smile, hoping to garner one from her sister.

“Good evening, Lydia. How are you feeling?”

Lydia sighed and set her book aside. “Not well, but I have felt worse. Please sit down and tell me what you have been doing today.”

Elizabeth obeyed and described her visits to the various tenant families and did not stint in her descriptions of the unpleasant symptoms of measles, including the rash. Perhaps it would help Lydia be a trifle more resigned to her own situation.

“Those poor children,” Lydia remarked. “I know I had measles, but I do not remember it.”

“You were very small, and I daresay were miserable, though I was too caught up in my own distress to be much aware of the feelings of others.”

She immediately regretted this statement, as it was likely to encourage Lydia to think of her own ills, but Lydia merely murmured in agreement and turned her attention on the fire. It was, as usual, well fueled, and Elizabeth spared another moment’s gratitude to Mr. Darcy, who made certain that the parsonage was always well supplied with wood.

“Lizzy?” Lydia said softly, and Elizabeth looked toward her sister and was dismayed, though unsurprised, to see tears now running down Lydia’s pale cheeks.

“Yes?” she replied with as much patience as she could muster.

Lydia gulped and said, with her eyes still fixed on the gyrating flames, “I am very sorry I ran away and ... and now ... I ought not to have ... I did not realize that I might...”

Elizabeth reached over, wrapped a comforting arm around the younger woman, and said, “My dear, I am sorry too, but it is not possible to change what is done. I hope you will feel better soon. Most ladies do feel better farther into the pregnancy.”

Lydia sighed and said, “I have heard that too, but some ladies feel terrible the whole time, and I am not certain how I can bear it! Nine whole months of this, when I am nauseous and so very tired.”

Elizabeth found she did not know what to say. Clearly, this situation was partially Lydia’s fault, although her sister had been permitted to run wild, so much of it was their parents’ responsibility.

“I know it is my fault,” Lydia continued with a sob. “I was stupid and reckless, and George did not even truly care for me, not in the least, but only wanted money.”

Elizabeth glanced around anxiously, fearful of being overheard by a servant, and her sister said, “I sent Gwendolyn away so she could take a nap. Last night I was up a great deal, so she was as well.”

“That was kind of you. As for your situation, yes, you are responsible for your actions, but as I said, what is done is done. And in the end, you will have a baby, or are you unhappy about that as well?”

This was an uncomfortable question to ask, but to her relief, Lydia smiled and said, “I have no idea how to care for a baby, but I like the idea very much. It is now that is so difficult, as I merely feel sick and there is no sign that I am pregnant. It is truly unpleasant.”

There was no denying this, and Elizabeth simply planted a kiss on her sister’s cheek and then pulled her a little closer still.

“I am grateful that Alexander is so sympathetic,” Lydia continued softly. “I know he did not need to marry me, and he is always so patient.”

“He is a wonderful man,” Elizabeth agreed. He was not the sort of man she would wish to marry, as he did not have much interest in literature and was not well informed about life outside of his parish. Without a doubt, however, Alexander Wickham was a good-hearted man, and her sister was extremely fortunate.

“Do you think you will ever marry?” Lydia asked timidly.

Elizabeth was startled at this question and even more surprised when a face promptly rose in her mind’s eye, that of the handsome, intelligent, and very wealthy master of Pemberley. She shook herself, dismayed by her own thoughts. Mr. Darcy was a far more honorable gentleman than she had believed on first acquaintance, but he was also the great man of the area, and she well knew he had no interest in her.

Moreover, she was not at all certain she would even wish to marry Darcy of Pemberley. Along with his many positive character qualities, he was undoubtedly proud of his name and his position in society and rather haughty on occasion.

“Lizzy, are you well?” Lydia asked, and Elizabeth realized she had been silent for some time.

“I am,” she said, turning a reassuring smile on her sister. “I was merely thinking about your question, and the answer is that I do not know. I need not wed, of course. Indeed, Mamma would prefer that I did not, as she is unreasonably afraid that a husband might sell off Longbourn, not that I would ever marry without assurance that our mother would be able to stay at Longbourn for the rest of her life, but she does not understand that.”

“I wonder why George did not try to force Father to make me the heiress of Longbourn,” Lydia murmured. “Surely two thousand pounds a year is far better than five hundred a year.”

“Yes, but the five hundred he demanded would have started immediately,” Elizabeth said. “Father is only fifty years old and could live another twenty years, after all.”

“That is true,” Lydia agreed with a sigh.