Page 17 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
Elizabeth
28th July 1812
A nother week had gone by and Elizabeth found herself ever more torn over her place in the world. She was becoming used to life in Pemberley, and Mr Darcy was more than cordial, but she worried about Kitty and Mary. Had she been selfish to bring them here?
She found herself dwelling on this thought more often than she wanted, but at least for once she had distraction at her fingertips in the form of a letter from Jane. Her sister had written for the first time since Elizabeth had left, and she was presently in a mind to return an answer at once. Elizabeth dipped her quill into the inkwell and set pen to paper.
Dear Jane
I was most gratified to receive your letter and to learn that Mr Bingley has returned to Netherfield. That he comes without his sisters gives me some hope that his motives are pure. It is not often that men of his standing allow themselves to retrace their steps so earnestly, let alone act with such apparent openness.
I cannot deny, however, that I understand your hesitation. After all, this is the same gentleman who allowed himself to be so easily swayed from what seemed to be a genuine attachment. Yet, perhaps this very return is a sign of a lesson learned—a demonstration of his own growth and of his acknowledgment of the mistake he made in leaving you behind.
You say he visits often, and I can scarcely restrain my curiosity about what passes between you during these calls. Does he ask after your health? Your thoughts? Does he attempt to rekindle the light-hearted exchanges that once seemed so natural between you? Dearest Jane, you must tell me all—whether his manners have returned to the warmth they once held or whether there remains some formality, some hesitation on his part.
As I think of you and Mr Bingley, I cannot help but reflect on what Mr Darcy revealed to me in Kent last year. You may recall my shock and indignation when I discovered that he played a role in separating the two of you. His reasoning at the time—however misplaced and unjust it was—stemmed, he claimed, from a concern for Mr Bingley’s interests. Yet, I must also admit that his influence in that matter still stings when I consider the pain it caused you.
Now that Mr Darcy is my husband, I find myself re-examining his character—seeing it, perhaps, with clearer eyes than I might have otherwise managed. While his actions were misguided, I have come to understand that they arose not from cruelty, but from pride and a deep sense of responsibility towards those he cares for. This does not excuse him, of course.
This, dear Jane, brings me to my point: if Mr Bingley has now returned of his own accord, if he is seeking to make amends, then perhaps he too has learned the value of following his own heart rather than bending to the will of others.
Do not think me presumptuous, dearest sister, in urging you to keep an open mind and heart. I know how much you have endured and how fiercely you guard your peace of mind. But I also know how much joy he once brought you—and how much joy you are capable of bringing to one another.
Should he prove himself worthy, should he demonstrate with actions and not merely words that he respects and values you as you deserve, then perhaps you might allow yourself to trust him once more.
Your happiness is my fondest wish, dear Jane, and it is in this hope that I await your next letter with more eagerness than you can imagine. Do write soon and tell me everything—everything!
Yours always, Elizabeth
P.S. Mr Darcy sends his regards. He has been particularly attentive of late, which is to say, he asks every morning whether I have heard from you and how you are doing. I suspect he shares my hope for your happiness—though he is loath to say so outright.
She sat back, shaking her head. How odd it was that she should be married to Mr Darcy while her sister may well become Mrs Bingley—if she allowed herself to open her heart.
Life certainly took them both in peculiar directions but who could know what would happen next? For the time being, all she could do was hope for the best, and play her part.
***
The dining room at Pemberley was grand and imposing, even after having been at Pemberley for three weeks, Elizabeth could not get used to it. High, vaulted ceilings supported a sparkling chandelier that bathed the room in warm light. Heavy burgundy curtains were pulled back to reveal the dark evening outside, while the crackling fire in the marble hearth added warmth to the room.
This night, she had dined with only her sisters as Mr Darcy and Georgiana had been invited to a soiree in town. Mr Darcy, being the most prominent landowner in the county, sat on a great many boards and often found himself called away. As his wife, the invitation had been extended to her, but because her presence was not expected she politely declined, wishing to spend the evening with her sisters.
Elizabeth looked at Mary and Kitty, noticing how different they seemed. Only weeks ago, Mary had been lost in her sermons and Kitty overshadowed by Lydia’s antics. Now, in the opulence of Pemberley, both appeared more at ease, their earlier discontent gone. This, indeed, was rather strange for they had appeared so sullen that she’d considered bringing them to Derbyshire had been a mistake. However, for the past few days, their mood had lifted.
Mary dabbed her lips with her napkin and glanced hesitantly at Elizabeth before speaking. “I must say,” she began, her voice measured, “I did not expect this arrangement of Mr Darcy’s to interest me as much as it has.”
“Arrangement?” Elizabeth asked as she took a mouthful of the delicious lemon tart the cook had prepared.
Kitty leaned forward in anticipation, prompting her eagerly. “Well, what is it, Mary? Tell Lizzy what you told me earlier!”
Elizabeth tilted her head, intrigued. “What arrangement do you mean, Mary? Do not keep me in suspense.”
Mary straightened in her chair, her composure tinged with faint excitement. “Mr Darcy has arranged for me to take pianoforte lessons with Mr Chauvel, he tutors some of the finest musicians in Derbyshire. He visited the estate this afternoon to meet me and assess my skill.” She paused, the slightest blush colouring her cheeks. “He said I have great potential, though I must devote myself more thoroughly to practice if I am to improve.”
Elizabeth smiled, setting her fork down. “That sounds promising, Mary. I did not know you still wished to develop your music.”
Mary’s expression softened. “It is not merely for my enjoyment, Lizzy. Mr Darcy has also found me a volunteer position at the convalescent home in Lambton. I will be helping organise musical activities for the wounded soldiers, providing them with a small respite from their troubles. The opportunity to serve in this way…” Her voice grew quieter. “It gives me purpose. I begin to see how one might balance one’s own pursuits with something greater.”
Kitty chimed in before Elizabeth could respond. “And I am to volunteer at the orphanage near Lambton! Mr Darcy wrote to the matron there himself. He spoke so highly of me—can you imagine? Me! She met with me yesterday and has asked me to help with the younger children.”
Elizabeth turned to Kitty, her heart softening at her younger sister’s enthusiasm. “That sounds wonderful, Kitty. Are you looking forward to it?”
Kitty nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing. “Oh yes! She introduced me to them just this afternoon. Georgiana took me. The children are so sweet, and they’ve already started calling me Miss Kitty.” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I feel like I’m doing something good. Important, even.”
Elizabeth’s chest tightened with emotion as she regarded her sisters. For so long, she had seen their lives stifled by the constraints of Longbourn—by their mother’s ambitions for them, by the lack of opportunity in Meryton. She remembered Kitty’s dissatisfaction, her longing for attention and adventure, and Mary’s sombre isolation. Yet here they were, thriving. Mr Darcy had not merely welcomed them into Pemberley, he had seen their potential and found ways to nurture it.
“You both seem… changed,” Elizabeth said softly, her voice laden with awe.
Kitty grinned, her cheeks rosy. “Perhaps Pemberley has magic in its halls! Or maybe—” She broke off, feigning thoughtfulness. “Maybe Mr Darcy is secretly a knight in shining armour after all!”
Mary scoffed but did not entirely mask her smile. “Let us not descend into such childish fancy, Kitty. Mr Darcy is a practical man, not a knight or an enchanter.”
Elizabeth laughed, their easy camaraderie lightening the weight in her heart. She leaned back in her chair, observing them fondly. “Be it magic or mere kindness, I am glad to see you both so well-placed and—dare I say—happy.”
Kitty reached across the table to clasp Elizabeth’s hand, her grin fading to something softer. “And what of you, Lizzy? Are you happy?”
Elizabeth hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. “I do not know yet,” she confessed. “But seeing you both so fulfilled gives me hope. Perhaps, in time, I too might find my place here.”
The quiet crackling of the fire filled the room, the rich scent of the evening’s feast still lingering in the air. Elizabeth allowed herself a moment to revel in the peace of the scene, her sisters’ faces flushed with excitement and a hint of contentment.
Though she had once considered this marriage an act of duty and compromise, there was something undeniably comforting in seeing the good that had already come of it.