Page 129 of Obligation and Redemption

Mr. Collins has asked that I write you to request that should you join Mr. Darcy on his annual visit to Rosings for Easter, would you please minimise any visible signs of affection towards us while in the presence of Lady Catherine, who never lets me forget that my wanton sister seduced her nephew, forcing him into marriage, while he was engaged to her daughter.

Reminding her of our relationship throughout your visit could not bode well for us, as we are dependent upon her mercy and benevolence.

She only this week allowed me entrance into her grand house, but her kindness was all I could have expected given my connection to you.

She even offered to let me use the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s rooms (Mr. Darcy’s previously betrothed’s companion).

The instrument is as fine as any on which I have played, excepting perhaps the pianoforte at Netherfield.

Mr. Collins was pleased with the advancements we have made into her good favour, and we would not want it ruined by your arrival.

I know you understand our predicament, and will not take our request in the wrong light.

Lizzy, before I close, I must again acknowledge your kindnesses in encouraging an attachment between my husband and myself.

While not condoning such impropriety, I must thank you for dissolving not just Mr. Darcy’s betrothal to Miss De Bourgh in order to marry him, but also your own short-lived consideration of Mr. Collins, thus freeing him of his obligations to his patroness and our family. My life is complete.

Your sister,

MC

After reading her letters, Elizabeth had a hard time determining which one disturbed her more, the one from her mother suggesting that her husband had a mistress or the one from her sister, which told her about an apparent upcoming trip she and her husband were to take, but about which she knew nothing.

Easter is less than two weeks away; surely he would have told me about the trip if we were going.

Would he go without me? Two months ago, she would not have given it a second thought; in fact he had gone to town on two separate occasions, while she remained at Pemberley, but to plan to go to Rosings, on a family visit without her, was somewhat insulting.

But no, she would wait and see before judging him.

Perhaps the letter he received was from his aunt issuing an invitation. But then why would it disturb him so?

Elizabeth decided to put her letters away and instead to read her book.

Reading was just the task to stop her ungenerous ruminations.

But after an hour or more of reading, Elizabeth had begun to grow tired and had little capacity to ignore her physical demand for sleep.

She had hoped to stay up until Darcy’s return, but looking at the clock, she had begun to suspect that maybe he had by-passed the sitting room and instead gone straight to bed.

He never actually said he would return to resume their reading – once he had finished his letter.

She knew that he had planned to read with her before opening his correspondence, but something must have been in his letters that changed his mind.

Elizabeth was just getting up from her place on the settée when the door from Darcy’s chamber opened.

He looked in her direction and without meeting her eyes said, “Elizabeth, something has come up in town that needs my immediate attention, so I will be leaving in the morning at first light. I intend to be back within a fortnight.”

“Perhaps I could join you. I would enjoy having the opportunity to see Jane and the Gardiners in Cheapside.”

“I think not – this time.”

“Then maybe you could take me to Longbourn on the way to London.” Elizabeth waited to see what he might say.

She did not necessarily have a strong inclination either way.

She longed to see Jane, but travelling, even in such a fine carriage, was not appealing to her in her current state.

She found it much easier to hide her waning nausea when in her chambers than she likely could while in an equipage, no matter how fine.

As Darcy hesitated, she said, “Surely it could not be too far out of your way.”

As Darcy was inexperienced in the art of dissimulation, and due to the loose rein on his imagination concerning the contents of his letter, he responded in a manner that he had not intended, but once said, could not be taken back: “I said not this time, Elizabeth.” At her wounded look, he added, “Forgive me, but I intend to travel alone.”

“What business do you have in London that would not allow you to bring your wife?” she replied with an edge to her voice.

“Business that does not concern you.” Darcy knew that his reply was weak. Elizabeth was not a woman to accept even a hint of prevarication.

“Shall you stay at Darcy House the whole time?”

“Of course, I will stay at my home while in town, as I always do.”

“Will I see you before you leave?”

“As I will be leaving early, I suspect you may still be asleep, so I will say goodbye now.”

“Will you write to me?”

“Certainly, if you wish.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly as she turned to pick up her book that was sitting on the side table.

“Have a safe journey, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said as she went into her chamber and soundly closed the door behind her.

He is equivocating, and it has to do with that letter, with the unmistakably feminine script.

If he is going to Rosings, why not just tell me?

Does he continue in being ashamed of our connection, but not have the cheek to confess his petty misgivings to me? Vexing, vexing man!

When Elizabeth closed her door with a decided thud inconsistent with her smile and sweet words, Darcy knew that he had offended her, but what could he do?

The conversation was over, and he had achieved his goal.

He did not have to comment on the letter, and she was letting him go with minimal questions.

Elizabeth, being quite clever, could have made this whole conversation rather burdensome, but she did not.

He should be thankful. Why he was having these thoughts, he did not know.

He was master of Pemberley, and he was her protector, not the other way around.

She promised to obey him, and that was that.

AFTER A NIGHT OF RESTLESSNESS, Darcy arose before dawn and after a quick breakfast set out as the sky had begun to turn pink with the rising sun.

His journey to London was uneventful, which gave him plenty of opportunity to contemplate the letter and all that it might signify.

He had developed a faith in Elizabeth, not based on their circumstances, but on her actions and revealed character.

Although the general populace – and he also, initially – would hold to her having been successful in purposely compromising herself in order to achieve a brilliant marriage, there was no evidence to support this and much evidence to the contrary.

Elizabeth rarely spent her pin money and had no interest in the usual social diversions of a woman who marries for status and wealth.

Putting aside his knowledge of Elizabeth’s sending funds to a secret account, he considered his wife’s history.

Elizabeth did not need to take part in the desperate act of risking her reputation on the hope that he would have conceded to a union.

Her sister’s marriage (although then only a suitor) to the heir of her family’s estate protected her financially.

At that point she had no way of knowing that he would do his duty, unlike so many others.

Her father could not have challenged him, and she had no brother or other relation to defend her honour.

In addition to all of this, she had not seemed pleased with the match, at all, not even a little.

Darcy remembered very well, and without fondness, the first month of their marriage.

Elizabeth had avoided him whenever she could without causing servants to talk.

She always looked sad, very much unlike her demeanour in Meryton, and also very much unlike the expressions she had worn over the past month.

No, he was now quite certain that Elizabeth was not the type of woman to use deception to secure a marriage.

Pemberley had been good for them. Elizabeth had blossomed as a mistress of the estate while under the guidance of Mrs. Reynolds.

He laughed as he remembered the local ladies of fashion visiting, in order to assay the new mistress of Pemberley.

They thought to embarrass her with mention of the circumstances of their union.

Her wit put the visitors in their places, all the while concealing to the victims that she had done so.

She was truly remarkable. How could I not have esteemed her from the beginning?

Fitzwilliam had seen her charms and tried to convince Darcy of the great possibility for felicity in his marriage if he would just give her a chance to shine.

She was everything Darcy could have wanted in a wife.

He wondered if their physical relationship could have been satisfying, no exhilarating, if he had not taken her as he had on their wedding night and then with even more insensitivity later after the ball and then at Longbourn.

Could she have developed a longing for him, as he had for her, if he had only shown affection and been responsive to her fears?

She was enthusiastic about everything in life.

Could she have had that same enthusiasm in his bed had he not driven her away with his carnal desires, taking her rather than loving her?

One can never go back, but he could change the future. Whatever he might learn, he would take in with steady discernment, not jumping to conclusions. One thing he knew about Wickham: he was skilled at deceit. Darcy refused to become a pawn in his game of revenge again.