Page 10 of Reputation, an Easy Thing to Lose (Reputation Verse #1)

Chapter 9

A Peaceful Winter

Pemberley, Derbys hire

13 March 1813

“C heckmate! That is the third time I have bested you this week, brother.”

Darcy frowned down at the chess board where Georgiana had indeed painted him into a very neat corner. The final move had been a pawn trapping his knight and blocking any move to salvage the game.

Elizabeth laughed from her place in a chair by the fire. “Do not look so shocked, William. Your sister is improving every day. I believe she will be a truly accomplished lady by anyone’s measure before her presentation in May.”

“That is no thanks to me, my dear. It is her almost nightly games against you which have provided all improvements to her skill at chess. I have been thoroughly bested by my two favourite la dies.”

“I will remind you that it was your idea for we three to hold this little daily chess tournament.” Elizabeth pointed a small finger at her husband and her eyes sparkled with mirth. “I believe your pride was showing a bit, thinking that it would be you who would reign as the daily victor, while Georgie and I would have to play each afternoon for the honour of challenging your superior skills after di nner.”

Darcy ducked his head to hide the small blush that formed at his wife’s teasing. Five months had not made him immune to her wry smiles and witty words. Before Darcy knew Elizabeth, he would never have believed that his greatest joy in life would be a woman taking him to task for his hubris, but in the short time since their marriage, Darcy had become addicted to her archness. Even Georgiana had picked up some of her sister - i n -l aw ’s confidence and humour. Life at Pemberley this past winter had been livelier than any year since their mother had passed away nearly sixteen years ago.

However, loving something, and walking deliberately into a conversation guaranteed to make light of him, were two different things. Looking for any escape from continued teasing, Darcy changed the sub ject.

“I see we have finally received the mail after the recent snows. Is there anything of interest in that pile Mrs. Reynolds just deliv ered?”

Elizabeth sighed. “I would not say there is anything particularly interesting. Your aunt, Lady Matlock has sent a large letter for Georgiana which I fear includes several invitations we cannot refuse. I know we are leaving for London within the next few weeks, but since Matlock is only a few hours away, and the roads have cleared, I believe we will be required to attend another dinner party before we travel s outh.”

Darcy stood from the chess table and sat in the chair next to Elizabeth. He took the mail from her and set it on a side table, then held both of her small hands in his own. “Elizabeth, I will not subject you to my aunt’s discourteousness again. When we travelled to Matlock for the Christmas holiday celebrations, I expressed my displeasure to my uncle, in no uncertain terms, at your treatment and accommodations. To have you placed in the servant’s quarters was absolutely unconscionable. Even if you were really a companion, it would have been customary to place you in an adjoining room to Georgia na’s.”

“I also talked to my aunt, Elizabeth.” Georgiana had called for some fresh tea and handed both Darcy and Elizabeth a cup. “I was very distressed to have you below st airs.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I am sure that Lady Matlock did not mean any specific disrespect. The house was very full with her other relations. The Earls of Nottingham and Derby have very large families, and my accommodations were not uncomfortable. We will have to get used to this treatment as we remove to town for the season. I shall be treated as a servant at the social gatherings we attend. You must socialize without hovering over me all night, especially with such close connections as Lady Matlock’s relat ions.”

Darcy scoffed. “My aunt only held that ridiculous party to play matchmaker. I have, of course, met the Earls of Nottingham and Derby before this past winter, but I do not believe we have ever been such a cosy family party before. It is certainly not the tradition my aunt spoke about so adamantly.” Darcy sipped his tea and stared into the fire. “Lord Nottingham may be Aunt Matlock’s brother, but I have never been much impressed with him. He is very high -h anded with his children. The youngest, Bernard Finch, who was not at the party, is a barrister in London and a very good friend of mine. His father was not well pleased when he foreswore the army for a law apprenticeship. Even now, as he works with members of parliament drafting legislation, Lord Nottingham bemoans his profession and has said on more than one occasion that he would be more handsome if he wore a red coat.”

“Well, my dear husband, of course he would be more handsome in a red coat.” Darcy looked back to Elizabeth and she batted her eyes coquettishly. “Are not all men who soldier for our king and country the most attractive to young ladies and middling earls alike?” Elizabeth waved her handkerchief about with a toss of her c urls.

Darcy caught his wife’s hands again and gave her a stern look for her teasing, while Georgiana spoke through her laughter. “I cannot speak for most young ladies, but I would say that my brother’s lack of a red coat did not take away from his handsomeness to the earl’s daughters in attendance. It seemed that our aunt was very interested in providing plenty of time for you to become acquainted with Lady Fiona, and to a lesser degree, Lady Miranda.” Georgiana had tried to speak with both young ladies about her brother’s apathy for courting during their two days stay in Matlock, but it all came to no avail. Both the young ladies of marriageable age had decided they would not mind becoming Mrs. Darcy one bit.

“Yes, it does seem that Miss Bingley shall have some competition for your attention this season. Heaven forbid either Lady Fiona or Lady Miranda have the chance to observe the evenness of your penmanship. I am sure one or the other shall swoon.” Elizabeth chuckled again into her teacup while Darcy scowled into his own.

Lady Fiona Finch, daughter to the Earl of Nottingham, and Lady Matlock’s favourite niece, was tall, handsome, and heiress to fifty thousand pounds. At twenty -t wo , and facing her fifth season, Lady Fiona was tired of dancing with spendthrift dandies and impoverished lordlings at Almack’s. Darcy was certainly not a spendthrift, and managed to be handsome without wearing a cravat that had a ridiculous number of knots. Lady Fiona was friendly with Caroline Bingley and knew that lady considered herself practically engaged to Darcy, but the reports of Caroline and Darcy’s ‘understanding’ seemed to be greatly exaggerated by the upstart. Lady Fiona had decided during the Christmastide celebrations that she would use her close relationship with her aunt to secure more time with the ultimately eligible D arcy.

Lady Miranda Stanley, daughter to the Earl of Derby, was only out in society this past summer. Barely a woman at eighteen, she had been friends with Georgiana since they were young girls. Several autumns during their youth, the two had spent much time together while their fathers gathered for the hunt. The last time they had all been together was during Darcy’s final year at Cambridge, the year before the elder Mr. George Darcy passed. At the end of the last London season, Lady Miranda had been able to secure several dances with Darcy at both Almack’s and Matlock House, but her native shyness, combined with his general social unease, made for silent encounters. She had watched Lady Fiona make conversation with the handsome man with envy. She had as much dowry money and connections as the Nottinghams, and just as much right to be considered a good match. Lady Miranda took comfort that Darcy always appeared anxious when talking to the Lady Fiona. Lady Miranda understood his desire for quiet company. She was sure that, given the choice between the two women, she could be Mrs. Miranda Darcy before the fall.

“At least Richard was being helpful, instead of his usual habit of just laughing at my attempts to escape such tiresome situations. He was always right under foot to take me away for billiards and brandy when either Lady Fiona or Lady Miranda became too enthusiastic for my com pany.”

“While I do not particularly like watching other women vie for my husband’s attention, I cannot say I fault their taste.” Elizabeth raised one eyebrow and took a sip of her tea, hiding her s mile.

The arch look achieved her real goal, to make Darcy chuckle and lighten his countenance. The entire situation with the Matlocks had been very stressful, and Darcy had been in a dour mood for days following their return to Pembe rley.

What Darcy had not told Elizabeth or Georgiana was that just before they all departed Matlock, Lady Matlock had issued another round of mandatory invitations to Christmas Eve. That invitation had specifically not included Elizabeth, since Lady Matlock assumed she would be spending her holiday with family. Instead of confronting his aunt in company, Darcy had gone to his uncle to say that in no way would Georgiana be returning without her companion, since Elizabeth did not have plans to be away from Derbyshire during the holiday. Lord Matlock had been a bit confused by the forceful way Darcy had spoken on the matter, but Richard again intervened on his cousin’s behalf. He had said that they absolutely understood, and of course Elizabeth should not be left alone on Christmas. Georgiana’s particular friend would always be welcome at Matlock. He also went on to say that she would most definitely be given rooms adjacent to Georgiana on her next v isit.

Thankfully, a massive snowstorm three days before Christmas had made travel to Matlock impossible. This allowed the new family to have a peaceful and private holiday. Instead of having to pretend again that Elizabeth was Georgiana’s companion, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy slept late in their massive bed and enjoyed the holiday as all newlyweds sh ould.

A knock on the parlour door caught the attention of all three Darcys. “Excuse me, but an express rider has come with correspondence for Mrs. Darcy from Scarborough.” Mrs. Reynolds handed over a letter with lovely, but unfamiliar handwriting on the outside. The wax seal was a crest from the Earl of Matlock used by immediate members of his fa mily.

“It must be from Lady Gwyneth. I hope nothing is wrong with Lydia.” Elizabeth looked up at Darcy with apprehension in her eyes.

Darcy took the hand not clutching the express note and ran his thumbs across the back of it. “My dear, by the physician’s original estimate, your sister should have been delivered very shortly. It is most likely good news.”

Elizabeth nodded and looked back down at the letter in her hand but made no move to read the mis sive.

Georgiana stepped up and held out her hand. “Shall I read what our great -a unt has to say?”

Elizabeth handed over the paper, immedia tely.

“ Miss Elizabeth Bennet, please forgive the impropriety of my writing you without a prior introduction, however I wanted you to know, as soon as may be, that your sister has been successfully delivered of a fine, stout baby boy on 11 March 1813. Both mother and son are recovering well and will be churched by my son, Reverend Malcom Fitzwilliam in three Sundays. Lydia has named her son Thomas Anthony Bennet Wickham in remembrance of your father. Though we understand if Mr. Darcy is too busy to travel, it is Lydia’s wish that you might be able to join us here in Scarborough for the christening. She wishes for you to be the child’s godmother. Of course, I would welcome my relations as well.

Yours etc.

Lady Gwyneth Fitzwil liam. ”

Elizabeth sniffed and wiped away tears from her eyes. “She is really safely delivered? And my nephew has been named for our father. I am so reli eved.”

Darcy looked back to Mrs. Reynolds. “Please have the express rider fed, and prepare him a bed for tonight. We shall pack our things and leave for Scarborough by the end of the week in order to be present for Master Thomas’s christening. Will you please alert the staff to our change in p lans?”

“Oh William, no! We are to be on our way to London before the christening. I would not have us change Georgie’s plans. There is much to do for her coming out. Perhaps I might just go for a few days and come back before our original travel date.”

Georgiana interjected before Darcy could argue. “Elizabeth, I would much rather go to meet my new nephew than spend a few days on Bond Street. We have our appointment with the modiste in one month and six days. There is plenty of time to travel north, witness Thomas baptised into the church, and have a leisurely trip to London. We must not miss these moments. Also, there is a postscript here on the bottom which is written in a different hand. Do you recogniz e it?”

Elizabeth took the letter. “Yes, this is Lydia’s writing. Oh!” Elizabeth looked up, startled, and handed over the letter to Darcy, which he took with some confu sion.

He read the last few lines and then looked up to his wife and sister, delighted. “She asks me to be Thomas’s first godfather. I am very honoured that I should fulfil this role in his life.”

Elizabeth chewed on her upper lip. “What do you think your Fitzwilliam relations will say at your acceptance of such a large role in his life? True, your father was Wickham’s godfather, but is that enough of a connection to continue the tradition into another genera tion?”

“I am sure none of my relations will resent the connection. Except for Richard, most of them are unaware of my estrangement from Wickham, and will instead remember that my father loved him well enough during his lifetime. Besides, it will not be that much longer until our marriage is known to all our relations, so of course I am the best choice as a godfather. All will be well. I pro mise.”

“Come, Lizzy, we shall go find Marianne and Lillian, so we may plan for all our upcoming t rips.”

“You go, Georgie. I need to sit and write a return letter for Lady Gwyneth, letting her know that we all shall come. My current letter to Lydia is also nearly finished, so I shall add a few lines of congratulations then close them to be taken back by the express r ider.”

Darcy placed a quick kiss on the top of Elizabeth’s head. “Do not seal Lydia’s letter just yet. Please leave me a few lines to accept her invitation to be Thomas’s godfather. I shall find you in the library after talking with Co nnor.”

Elizabeth walked across the hall and to her desk in the large library. There was both a master’s and mistress’s study at Pemberley, however, Darcy’s mother and father had preferred to sit together when working on their respective duties and correspondences. So, a large corner of the library near the south facing windows overlooking the rose garden had been taken up with matching ebony desks. Elizabeth and Darcy decided to continue the tradition of working together whenever possible, and found great joy in sharing the responsibilities of Pemberley with the o ther.

After finishing her letters, Elizabeth looked up to the large calendar hanging on the wall behind Darcy’s c hair.

It was seven months to the day since her father had died.

Elizabeth thought of her father often, but not with true sadness. He had lived a simple life, full of mirth, and always enjoyed laughing at the folly of himself and his fellow man. Elizabeth believed that the worst offence she could commit against her father’s memory would be to grow despondent and forget to laugh. So, she had always tried to remember his wit, then laugh at something he would have found amu sing.

Today though, she was sad.

Somehow, the realization that her nephew had been named in his memory meant he was truly gone. Thomas Anthony Bennet had a grandson he would never meet. There would never be another new book lovingly selected by her father for her specific enjoyment. And one day, when she was hopefully blessed with children, they would never know the gentle humour of the man who did not take himself too seriously. Today, it hurt so much.

Elizabeth stood from behind her desk and walked to the newest bookshelves, erected just this past Christmastime. It had been a beautiful and snowy Christmas day. The three Darcys had taken their sleigh to the Pemberley parish church for the traditional afternoon service, then upon their return, Darcy had directed them all into the library to eat a cold luncheon and exchange gifts. While this seemed perfectly innocent to Elizabeth, Georgiana was confused as to why the presents were in the library instead of by the wooden crèche in the east parlour like always. When she was about to comment on the oddity, Darcy raised his finger to her lips out of sight of Elizabeth, and silently implored his baby sister to play a long.

Darcy had a specific purpose for hosting Christmas in the library instead of the east par lour.

When Elizabeth walked into the library, she was curious about a new set of stacks positioned by the windows on the north side of the room. Not only were they newly constructed, they were not quite full. She went over to investigate but nearly fell to the floor when she realized what the shelves conta ined.

Mr. Bennet’s books! Nearly every single one.

Her father had placed a small etched ‘B’ into the leather on the spine of every book he had ever owned, and the shelves were lined with them. She ran her fingers along the small, indented letters and wept.

Darcy had purchased many of the most beloved books of Mr. Bennet’s collection after the ever industrious and intelligent Charlotte Collins had sent a letter to Elizabeth warning of Collins’s desire to burn all the “immoral” books. Elizabeth had been beside herself. Darcy told her not to fret, he would contact the Meryton book seller immediately and tell the man of the travesty about to take p lace.

In reality, Darcy wrote to Collins directly. He told Collins that he desired to purchase many of the most collectable books, having heard of the quality from Elizabeth and knowing his inclination to rid Longbourn of many in the collection. Darcy had his London solicitor go to Longbourn and pay Collins a good sum for any of the books he wished to sell. While most would have considered the amount paid for a country squire’s book collection insanity, upon inspection, Darcy realized he had paid well under what the books were worth. Along with the expected classics from his days at Oxford, Mr. Bennet had first editions of most of Wadsworth’s poems, as well as Mrs. Radcliff’s novels. There was also a rare specimen of the Elliot Bible, the only modern book translated into the language of the native peoples in the Americas, in fantastic condition. One would think that a clergy man would not have parted with a version of the Bible, but Collins did not even know what the book was, only that it was written in the language of the godless American nat ives.

The collection’s most valuable item by far was Fugitive Pieces , a poem written by Lord Byron at the age of fourteen, but recalled due to the sexual imagery. There were only five copies known to have survived the burning. One each at Queen’s College Oxford Library, Magdalene College Cambridge Library, St. Andrews Library, University of Bologna Library in Italy, and the Sorbonne. Several additional copies were believed to have survived in the hands of private collectors who had managed to purchase a copy within the short time it was for sale around Nottinghamshire and in a few exclusive bookstores in London, but none had before been confirmed. Darcy was amazed to find it amongst Mr. Bennet’s books. That one edition alone, at a private auction in London, could fetch the entire sum Darcy paid Collins, likely more. But these were not purchased for their investment value, they were purchased to make Elizabeth s mile.

Now, with the memories of Christmas and the loss of her father fresh in her mind, Elizabeth ran her fingers over the spines of those books. She could smell his favourite tobacco in the pages, and see the notes he had made in the margins. His life’s work was right before her on the shelves. It was as if he were present a gain.

Elizabeth was still standing in the middle of the shelves nearly an hour later when Darcy came to find her. “Elizabeth? Darling, are you truly well? You seemed sad at the news from your si ster.”

Accepting his proffered handkerchief, Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes. “I must admit that the news of little Thomas’s birth has brought to mind the loss of my father. I fear that I miss him a great deal more today, though it makes no s ense.”

Darcy drew Elizabeth into his arms and guided her to the couch by the fire. “It is natural to find yourself missing him today. I am often surprised by those things that remind me of my own parents, like every spring when the foals are born. My father loved our horses and took great pride in the quality of our stables. He would personally oversee the mares as they neared their foaling. I too am greatly proud of our thoroughbred lines but admit that every spring I find myself in a melancholy mood for missing my father. It is the same with the blooming of the roses. They always remind me of my mo ther.”

“Does the pain lessen with time?”

“I do not think it does.” Darcy sighed and pulled Elizabeth back into his side then reclined against the back of the couch. “I have heard many say that the pain of loss becomes better with time, but I do not think it is the intensity which lessens, only the frequency. Often, with the foals and the roses, I am just as taken with grief as the first time I learned of their pas sing.”

“Is there anything which h elps?”

“Before I knew you, I would have said no. But now I know better. I cannot replace my parents’ love, but yours has come to remind me that there is much in life still to che rish.”