He had no answer to that. After a few minutes of frowning and folding and unfolding his arms and legs, Caroline suggestedhebe the one to call on their cousin Helena and begged him to inform her that both she and Jane were indisposed. With no reasonable cause to refuse, he reluctantly yielded to her persuasion and left.
Caroline persisted with her embroidery until frustration began to spoil her stitches, at which point she threw her hoop aside and crossed her arms with an angry growl. She had been so looking forward to arriving at Pemberley! Despite the injustice of having been overlooked for its mistress in favour of the objectionable hellcat Darcy had married, it was still one of her favourite places to visit and a far cry from the hovel in which they presently lodged. Now, with the threat of her brother’s wayward affections being exposed, the visit held all the appeal of a holiday in Cádiz.
Wednesday 2 September 1812, Derbyshire
The day of her sister’s visit arrived, and Elizabeth awoke feeling entirely unrested with an aching head and a distinctly unsettled stomach. She lay motionless on her back, breathing deeply in the hope the feeling would ease but smiling at a burgeoning sense of excitement.
Though it might be only anxiety for her reunion with Jane, she had reason to hope there was a happier explanation for her biliousness. She had awoken in a similar state on several mornings of late but only yesterday begun to suspect the cause. Then it had been poor Georgiana’s fractious tears and pimpled skin that roused the suspicion in her mind. For whilst sympathising with her sister over the bane of monthly courses, it occurred to her that, since marrying, she herself had not been thus afflicted.
“Elizabeth, are you unwell?”
She had thought Darcy asleep. Her heart leapt at the prospect of revealing to him her suspicions. “A little unsettled,” she admitted.
“You slept very ill,” he said gently, rolling to face her with a concerned frown. “Would that you had let me put them off. I do not like that you are this ill at ease.”
She likewise rolled towards him and then regretted doing so as awave of nausea assailed her. “I am not convinced that would have helped in this instance.”
“Should you feel better if you ate something?”
The prospect was surprisingly appealing. “Yes, actually, I think I might.”
Darcy rose immediately to summon Wetherby. Elizabeth rued her missed opportunity but supposed it would be better to share her momentous hopes in a less dishevelled state in any case. She removed to her own room to attend to her toilette, tidy her hair and don a shawl. By the time she was done, breakfast had been laid out in the sitting room, and Darcy had prepared her a plate.
“Thank you,” she said, sitting down and reaching for it, though she stopped short of actually taking it. First, the odour and then the sight of the insipid, sweaty heap of congealed buttered eggs piled on the plate turned her stomach so violently she thought she would be ill where she sat. Covering her mouth, she surged to her feet, sending her chair thudding to the floor, and was relieved to reach her washstand before vomiting.
“Elizabeth!”
“A moment!” she gasped, urgently waving Darcy away, having no wish for him to see her thus. He heeded her only until her nausea was passed, then he was at her side, easing her into the chair he had brought closer for the purpose. He crouched in front of her, holding her hand in his and peering at her with the greatest alarm.
“Forgive me,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose with chagrin. So much for announcing her news in a more dignified manner!
“No, no,” he assured her. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I thank you.”
“Nothing at all? You are very ill.”
She shook her head and could not help but smile. “I think not.”
He frowned as she knew he would.
“Fitzwilliam, I believe I am with child.”
He sat back on his heels and stared at her, fixed in astonishment. “Truly?”
“’Tis not certain,” she said hastily. “It will be some time before I can be sure.”
“But you suspect?”
She nodded, her smile broadening, and that seemed to be enough for him. He gave a triumphant little crow and reared up onto hisknees to embrace her, showering her with endearments and telling her of feelings that, in proving of what importance the child was to him, made her even more anxious that her hopes be warranted.
He leant back and, with the utmost tenderness, placed a hand on her abdomen. “Dearest Elizabeth! Just as I thought I could not possibly love you more!”
“I hope you will not love me any less if my suspicions come to nothing.”
“I shall not dignify that with an answer.”
She placed both her hands over his. “I dearly hope I am not mistaken, for I should be the happiest creature alive if it were true.”
