Elizabeth looked to the stars, which hung brilliant in the night sky. Unexpectedly, she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Dearest William, I do apologise for my levity. Did we not, when we agreed to wed, intend that your reserve and natural severity be somewhat ameliorated by my, dare I say it, my frivolity and impudent wit? You’re too severe with yourself!” Beaming, she looked up to his face. Darcy was at a loss—her radiant expression was such as to turn night into day, but what had so brightened her demeanour?
“Don’t you understand?” She continued, “I thought your knowledge of Greek mythology was superior to mine: didn’t Zeus give Atlas the task of holding up the heavens? While no less onerous for one who isn’t a god, you’re carrying the weight of colonial law on your shoulders.”
“And what would you have me do?”
“We’re alike, sir, in that we feel deeply our responsibilities. For me, ‘tis the orphanage, being a good midwife, and planning the school. Harshita admonished me when she saw my tears and despair at having failed to deliver a living child. ‘To attempt all alone’, she chided, ‘was foolhardy’. With her urging, I resolved to seek help. Of course, I couldn’t approach Mrs. Sims, midwife at the hospital, for she won’t wash her hands! None of the women I knew in the regiment were so inclined.
"So I resolved to train up some of the older girls from the orphanage: Phoebe Norton, a good strong lass, and also Ann Reynolds. So now they accompany me whenever I visit a woman enceinte or the women visit me at the dispensary. Further, I’ve begun translating the book, theBrandenburg Midwife, from German to English for their instruction.
“Can you but see, William,” Elizabeth’s eyes glistened with tears of hope, “are there not magistrates who could sit with you and share your burdens? Yes, it would be your decision as to guilt and sentence, but it would not be made alone: Iucundum est narrare sua mala—A trouble shared is a trouble halved.”
“Thomas Arndell, William Broughton and Simeon Lord aremagistrates,” Darcy paused, thinking of the assistance their sitting on the bench would provide. “It’s an idea well worth considering—I’ll enquire of Governor Macquarie as to whether he approves and will make the necessary appointments.” Darcy took up Elizabeth’s hands and kissed them. “I believe, Lizzie, my marrying you was a most clever election.”
Elizabeth blushed. All was again well between them; her fear was, indeed, an illusion. But she would not let William dwell further on the issue—it must be resolved forthwith. “We attend dinner with Mr. Lord on Thursday next. Perhaps you could canvass his opinion of the matter—he’s a very sensible man and would see the right of it.”
Chapter 19
Bridge Street, August 21, 1810
Simeon Lord’s house was a large three-storey structure by the Tank Stream bridge. Merchant captains regularly slept there both to reside near their cargoes in the warehouses and also to enjoy Lord’s hospitality. Upon arrival, Darcy and Elizabeth were informed Lord’s wife, Mary, was indisposed, and Elizabeth was requested to act as hostess for the evening.
“It’s a small gathering, Mrs. Darcy, with mainly ships’ captains and some supercargoes. But there are two wives. It was better to invite them rather than have them eat alone, if you pardon my presumption.”
“’Tis no matter, Mr. Lord. But I suspect there’s more afoot. Are they Englishwomen?”
Lord rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve caught me out, ma’am. Indeed, one is Portuguese from Porto, the other an Indian lady from Bombay.”
Elizabeth led the two women into dinner, with Lord leading Darcy, the highest ranking of his guests. As Darcy passed Elizabeth, she smiled up at him, rolled her eyes, and waved him away to the foot of the table. The two foreign ladies sat to either side of her. One, a rather stout woman, was dressed in European fashion; the other was wearing an embroidered saree of intricate weave.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Elizabeth spoke to the Indian lady, “my Marathi is poor, but do you eat meat in addition to vegetables?”
The lady placed her hand over her heart; she shook her head slightly. “You speak Marathi? But how—you lived in Bombay?”
“No, ma’am, a friend speaks the language, and I’ve learned from her. It’s so melodic and expressive, I enjoy speaking it very much. But, I must interrupt. The first course is a white soup of chicken and anchovy. Is that to your taste?”
“Ma’am, on board ship I can scarcely avoid eating meat; but only mutton, chicken and fish.” She smiled, and lightly brushed Elizabeth’s sleeve, “I thought to avoid this meal, but your presence gives me much pleasure.”
Elizabeth, now concerned she was ignoring her other guest, turned to her, smiling broadly. “My apologies, senhora, but I was afraid the lady was vegetarian, being from India.”
“Oh, this is an evening of surprises, are you Portuguese—I find no fault in your speech, but a Castilian influence, perchance?”
“Indeed, I’ve only recently learned your language, from visiting Madeira and Rio. But yes, I’m fluent in Castilian. I understand you’re from Porto? My uncle, who does much business there, tells me it’s a delightful town.”
Tears welled in the woman’s eyes—a shaking hand covered her mouth. “Of course, you haven’t heard. That filth Marshal Soult invaded the town, leading to much destruction, death and misery. He took all of the food; they raped young girls, shot the mules and stole the cattle. But in May last, your General Wellesley took back the city. God bless him and the British.”
The woman was much distraught, so Elizabeth determined to turn the conversation. “But senhora, you’re safe and so is Porto. I’ve heard the Cathedral is magnificent!”
From the foot of the table, Darcy and Lord watched Elizabeth converse easily with both of the ladies. Musical laughteraccompanied their conversation, all three ladies chuckling as she translated the narrative of one so the other could comprehend.
“I speak English well enough, but my education is sorely lacking,” said Lord. “I was the fourth of ten children. My only schooling was by my mother, my father was a singular, uncommunicative man. But how does Mrs. Darcy speak thus? She talks to the ladies each in their own tongue—about what I don’t know—but they are at ease, laughing and teasing with her. She’s a remarkable woman, Darcy!”
“Yes, indeed. I’m most fortunate in her choice of husband. Yet here we sit, in dreary discourse, while we’re denied the charm of the ladies’ excellent conversation. That, sir, must be rectified once they retire and we gentlemen join them.”
As if it were a signal, Elizabeth arose. All at the table stood with her, the ladies following as she exited. Oh my, fancy leading the ladies out. It seemsLizzie Darcyhas much consequence overLizzie Bennet—but how strange,thatname no longer seems to suit. After the success of the dinner conversation, Elizabeth felt all the advantages of her newfound standing.
When the men returned to the parlour, the room was quiet, the ladies not present. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth entered. “Forgive me, Mr. Lord, but the ladies wished to retire to their chambers. I accompanied them, firstly to check on the comfort of Mrs. Lord—she sleeps well—and then spend some time with Senhora Ruiz.
