We never have agreed onMoll Flanders, however.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It seems that trust is something that is built.
She did not forgive me, well, at least, she certainly never said that she forgave me, and perhaps if I asked her, even now, she would tell me that she still did not forgive me, even as her hand rests on her swelling belly, even as she is round with with our child.
It has been a year since we were married.
We are in London now, even though she is too heavy with child to socialize, and it might make better sense for us to retire to the country. However, this is Georgiana’s second Season. We were here for her last year and we shall be here again to make certain that she is ready to navigate it. She lived with us all of last spring, attending balls and dancing with gentlemen, though none caught her fancy. In the summer, Georgiana accompanied us to Pemberley.
I have liked having her close, and I think Georgiana likes it, too. I have taken pains to be more attentive, and though she has not said so, I think it has made all the difference.
I cannot say whether or not I was correct when I presumed that my wife could be rubbing Georgiana the wrong way, because they have gotten along quite well, I believe. I think my sister was starved for anyone paying her mind, and she sought to please my aunt in the hopes of winning her favor. Awayfrom Lady Matlock’s influence, she seems to have no issues with Elizabeth. Certainly, she has never again said my wife was loud.
Elizabeth, for her part, says that she has been used to living with four sisters for her entire life, so she is quite happy enough having a bit of girlish company in the house, and we have all gotten along quite well, I think.
Last winter and spring, we had quite the lively social calendar. The invitations kept coming in, and we went here and there and everywhere, even to Vauxhall, though not with the Petersons. If anyone thought my wife was improper, they certainly did not say so. In fact, everyone seemed to enjoy her company, and she was well-received by simply everyone.
If my aunt, Lady Matlock, did not receive her well, I had to set her straight, but that only happened twice before Lady Matlock kept her opinions to herself.
Of course, my other aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she was not one who would keep her opinions to herself. At first, she was very put out that I had not married her daughter Anne, as everyone had expected me to do, and she did not wish to speak to me at all, or to meet my new wife.
But then, after word must have reached her about how my wife was the toast of London, Lady Catherine was suddenly eager for us to visit, and she began sending letter after letter begging us to come and stay at Rosings.
It turned out that Elizabeth’s friend someone-or-other… I keep forgetting her first name. She is Mrs. Collins now, bless the woman. At any rate, she married Mr. Collins, who is the heir to Longbourn, and who would not deign to marry any of the Bennet girls because of the way everyone was gossiping about Elizabeth after we were trapped in the house together. He is the rector there and lives quite nearby to Rosings. And Mrs. Collins… the former Miss Lucas, I think, but her first name…
Collette, perhaps?
At any rate, she and Elizabeth had been close friends, so Elizabeth eventually agreed that we could go so that she could visit with Mrs. Collins, so we went.
It was miserable.
Lady Catherine is quite a lot to take even when she is not furious with you for not uniting with her daughter and pulling together both Rosings and Pemberley for your offspring to inherit, and all of that.
After that visit, it was back to Hertfordshire for the wedding of Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth’s sister Jane. Caroline Bingley was not in attendance, having stayed away at her sister’s London house due to some malady, or so she said. I was not at all displeased about not having to see her again.
Then we spent the fall and winter at Pemberley, and it was then that my wife informed me she was with child, and that was a feeling I cannot even describe. I felt small and big at once. I felt terrified and expansive. We waited a time before telling Georgiana, who was quite excited at the news, and I believe that brought my sister and wife even closer.
Of Mr. Wickham, we have heard little. He remains with the regiment, as I understand, and he was involved in some scandal in the spring, in Brighton. He eloped with a girl, as I understand it, but then failed to actually marry her until some pressure was exerted upon him, and now he and his new Mrs. Wickham make their way together.
However, perhaps on the threat of being shot, he leaves me and anyone connected to me alone.
I hope it stays that way.
But I hardly think of that man anymore, and I certainly would never suspect that my wife cared for him.
Richard stayed away for a time, but not too long. I believed my wife when she said that she was only ever being friendly, in truth. I think that it becomes easy for men to construefriendliness as something it is not, and I think Richard’s desire was all one-sided.
I cannot fault him for it, however. How could I, when I desire her, too.
But there is no sting of jealousy or fear between us now.
Now, there is trust.
And I do not know if it could have been wrought with effort in a moment. I feel as if it was something that had to fill itself in, just a bit at a time, as we made our new lives together.
As the time passes, it becomes less and less important why I married this woman.
