“I am a merciless woman. A creature such as — Emily, do be careful, there are thorns on the rose bush.”
Ignoring Elizabeth’s worry, Emily pulled a branch with an early bloom to her nose, took a theatrical deep sniff of it, and then let it go.
“It is my fault,” Darcy said. “I taught her that she ought to smell the roses.”
“I would not like to see her get a cut that might become infected.”
“She never does. She is quite cautious, and it is not so easy to get a deep cut from a rose bush — but you were describing yourself I believe. A merciless woman?”
“Ah, yes. The sort of woman that poets write about. The one who never bends to the begging of her gentleman swain.”
“Then I must fulfil the task you have presented to me and face the heavy burden of thought upon the brain for another day.”
Elizabeth laughed. “My mother would believe me insane. To not seize on something of this sort, and never let go.”
“Your mother has her own mode of thinking about the world, and it is very different from yours, and I far prefer yours.”
They were quiet for a while. They watched Emily run to and fro. She chased a butterfly.
The light was dimming, the air was sweet. The lowing of the cows in the fields could be heard.
“I am so frightened for Jane,” Elizabeth said suddenly. “And remembering how Anne died makes it worse — you do not mind that I have come to call her by her Christian name in my mind?”
Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and briefly pressed it. “It is a terrifying time.”
“Jane seems to not worry at all. But I cannot believe she is not frightened.”
“Perhaps she is not. Colonel Fitzwilliam told me how in battle he dedicates himself to the Almighty, and that somehow…he does not think about the chances of death, but simply what is in front of him. Maybe Jane is like that.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth. “I forgot that men also sometimes face the trial of a particular day where they must face a great risk of death. Worse even than what Jane shall face. It is so easy to think that all the burdens are upon women, but terrible things are faced by all.”
Darcy looked down at the stone grain of the table, and a deep scratch in it. “I often feel guilty that my position as the first son, and a great landowner, meant that it was not my place to join the army to defend us against the French.”
That brought a light laugh from Elizabeth. “You can buy a commission, despite your wealth and lack of elder brothers, and I think you have proven my point once more, that you have a tendency to feel guilt over matters that no reasonable person would.”
Darcy’s lip twitched.
Elizabeth then looked back towards the house with that same worried expression.
“I do not think you should worry so much,” he said. “Anne never had good health. She had nearly died of a fever when she was born, and she always was small and frequently bled.”
“Oh.”
“You know there is reason to worry, so I will not pretend there is not. But there is muchlessreason to worry than with Anne.”
“And if I believe Lady Catherine, which I never do, you did not let her walk,” Elizabeth said with a frown at the table. “We have made Jane walk a great deal, even though she never liked the exercise. I am sure—”
“Anne could barely manage to stand for the last month. And the man who attended her thought it would be best if she chiefly kept to her bed, so she did. As for whether… I have read doctorswho espouse each view. Rest is essential. Exercise is essential. I am sure that in many cases exercise is more beneficial, but I cannot pretend to know for sure. But it seems to me that there is little doubt that a woman who can easily walk when her condition has progressed so far as your sister is more likely to handle the difficulty of birth well than one who could not. And there is, the, uh, width of the hips. I was told by Anne’s accoucheur that it can make a great difference.”
“Aha!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “You noticed my sister’s excellent figure.”
“She is not nearly so beautiful asyou,” was Darcy’s immediate and unhesitating reply.
Elizabeth blushed, but soon they were joined once more by Elizabeth’s sisters, and Emily grew bored with finding her own entertainment in Mr. Collins’s garden and demanded attention from them all.
The next evening the Hunsford party came once more to dinner at Rosings. Except for glances and a great deal of smiles, Darcy and Elizabeth behaved in a more restrained manner under the watchful eye of Lady Catherine than they might have otherwise.
But he felt deeply happy.
