“They have weeks yet, and will have Edward to guide them, Fanny,” her father said as he held out his arm and she took it. He patted her hand and led them inside. “Your brother is eminently sensible and will plan for any contingency.”
Before Elizabeth could ring for her, Mrs. Riggs appeared, holding a tray of steaming tea and a plate of freshly baked biscuits. She set them down and, with a smile for Elizabeth, left them to their reunion.
Her parents sat close together on the settee. Elizabeth poured the tea while she began to recount the events of the previous night, starting with the eerie calm that had settled over Hollydale in the late hours.
“It was around midnight, and I had only just fallen asleep,” Elizabeth explained, her eyes distant as she recalled the scene, “when I heard Mamma scream loud enough to freeze my blood.”
Mr. Bennet leaned forward, his tea forgotten.
Elizabeth continued, describing Mr. Fitch’s actions. When she recounted her mother's intervention, Mr. Bennet's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline.
“Your mother did what?” he exclaimed, his voice indicating both disbelief and admiration.
“Oh Mr. Bennet!” Mamma cried. “What else could I do? Lizzy was in the house.”
Elizabeth’s heart beat hard against her chest. Her mother had been protecting her?
Papa swallowed and took Mamma’s hands.
“You always were quite ferocious when it came to protecting the little ones,” Papa said.
“I have not done so in these last years, though.” Mamma shook her head at him. “I meant well, but I was so afraid. Last night—I think you would have been proud of me.”
Papa kissed her temple. “I amveryproud of you, Fanny. Never doubt that.”
Mamma withdrew her handkerchief to dab at a few tears. “And Mr. Darcy was there so quickly. He was so brave and gentlemanly throughout it all.”
Papa was not yet aware that Mamma had insisted Mr. Darcy remove from the house, so he was not surprised by the man’s presence in their tale. “Well, my dear, you have all handled this situation splendidly. I am relieved to find you safe.” He paused. “But one thing I do not understand, Fanny. Why were you in the kitchen at all, let alone at that time of night?”
Elizabeth had been curious, but there had never seemed to be a good chance to inquire. Mamma’s eyes widened, and for once in her life, she seemed at a loss for words.
“I only wished . . .” she stammered, her fingers twisting her handkerchief into knots. “I was just looking for some milk to settle my stomach.”
Mr. Bennet froze, his teacup halfway to his lips. “Milk?” he repeated, his voice hoarse.
“But you dislike milk, Mamma,” Elizabeth said, puzzled. “You have always said it disagrees with you.”
A slow smile began to spread across Mr. Bennet's face, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of realization and joy. “Except,” he said, gazing warmly at Mamma, “when she is with child.”
The words hung in the air for a moment. Elizabeth was shocked into silence, but now it all made sense, for she had seen her Aunt Gardiner go through the same with each of her own confinements, though not to such extremes—the erratic, irrational behaviour, the bouts of illness, the fainting spell. The signs had been there all along, but given her mother’s nervous behaviour before Elizabeth inherited Hollydale and the fact that it had been fourteen years since her youngest sister Lydia was born, she had missed what now seemed obvious.
Mrs. Bennet's eyes welled with happy tears, a tremulous smile on her lips. Mr. Bennet set down his teacup with a clatter to kneel before his wife and kiss her hands.
“My dear Mrs. Bennet,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “you continue to surprise me.”
“What if this one is a girl as well?” Mamma asked in a small voice.
“Then we shall love her as we do the others,” Papa murmured. “And I will be a better father to them all and a better husband to you than I have been. I promise you this.”
Mamma leaned forward to touch her forehead to his. “You had better,” Mamma said, “for I am now proficient in culinary combat.”
Papa barked out a laugh, and Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her own—she would not interrupt this loving moment for anything. Who knew Mamma could be witty?
Elizabeth watched her parents with a full heart. The gift of Hollydale had made this possible, and for perhaps the hundredth time, she sent up a prayer of thanks to Mr. Ellis for it.
Chapter Twenty
Darcy was announced and invited to the breakfast room where Mr. Bennet sat alone. “Welcome back, sir,” he said.
