Sharon Lathan - The Trouble with Mr. Darcy

The door which opened at that moment to admit Lady Catherine.

Her gasp was lost in the air, the click of the rapidly closed door not registering to the impassioned lovers who soon composed themselves enough to exit the room still ignorant of the interloper. They took their tryst to their chamber to be completed without any interruptions. Lady Catherine took to her bed also, smelling salts on the stand just in case!

Then there was Mr. Collins to irritate Lizzy. Or rather both of them, as Darcy abhorred him. Luckily he rarely had to encounter the obsequious little man other than at dinner upon occasion. Lizzy was not as fortunate, by her choice, since her friendship with Charlotte remained.

Yet, as time passed, her friendship with Charlotte was subtly altering. Perhaps it was a natural progression due to the distance between their current homes with visits rare and brief. But upon serious reflection Lizzy knew it was not that. While her newfound friendships with ladies such as Chloe Drury, Julia Sitwell, and Amelia Lathrop—all who lived a distance from Pemberley—flourished, her relationship with Charlotte Collins diminished. How much of that had to do with Lizzy’s distaste for Mr. Collins and her persistent disbelief that sensible, warm Charlotte could stoop to marry him or the differences in their social status Lizzy could not decide.

She felt embarrassed by the uncomfortable silences that came while they visited. It was odd to realize that they had little in common anymore. She could not share her happiness with Darcy since Charlotte would never possess half that joy in her union. They talked about household management and charity work, but in both cases their experiences and duties were vastly different. Frivolous gossip about people or events was limited, since they knew few of the same people and their perspectives were quite varied now. The safest topic was children, so that is what they shared in largest portion.

The twin Collins girls were plain in appearance, but lively creatures just a few weeks older than Alexander. He thought they were fantastic fun, the three of them running and rolling about the lawn while their mothers sipped tea and talked. At times like this, with the breeze blowing and the women relaxing under a shading tree, the years erased and they were just Lizzy and Charlotte again.

Until Mr. Collins appeared.

“Mrs. Darcy”—he bowed—“I am honored to welcome you to our humble abode. I apologize profusely for not greeting you as is proper for the master of the house, even one as quaint and modest as ours, to do. More so, I daresay, as a great lady such as you condescending to pass through our simple doors is a tremendous courtesy and should not be ignored. Of course, I mean no disrespect to our parsonage, you understand? Lady Catherine, our gracious patroness, has contributed bountifully to enhance our home and we are eternally grateful and in her debt.”

“Have no worries over it, Mr. Collins,” Lizzy interrupted the tide. “Lady Catherine is abundantly aware of her charitable acts and how appreciative her subjects are.”

He bowed again, missing the hidden slur. “That is a relief to hear. Thank you for informing me. And thank you for visiting with my dear Mrs. Collins. She, I know, is as honored as I by your consideration. Most likely her overwhelming gratitude is why she neglected to alert me as to your arrival, an understandable omission, I know, perfectly understandable under the circumstances. Still, if I had been notified I would have hastened from my work, as important as it is to the nourishment of God’s children and the furtherance of His church, to welcome you immediately. As it is I am late, but my happiness and sincerity are surely as intense.”

“Thank you, Mr. Collins. You are the soul of hospitality. As is Charlotte. Indeed we were caught up in our mutual delight and forgot all other considerations. Please forgive me for preventing her carrying out her duties, as I am sure she would have.”

“Indeed! Oh, indeed there is nothing to forgive!” He cast befuddled eyes about the yard, noting the laughing children. “Ah, your son has grown, Mrs. Darcy. What a fine lad he is. Mr. Darcy must be immeasurably proud to have a son who is so handsome and robust.”

“We are indeed proud. You must be as well?” He knit his brows, lifting a brow in question. “About your girls, I mean,” Lizzy explained. “They are lovely girls and healthy.”

“Yes, yes of course. They are wonderful and we are naturally cognizant of God’s grace and beholden to Him for His mercy. However, as remarkable and special as girls are, and we dearly love our Leah and Rachel, Mrs. Collins and I, one cannot deny the desire for a son to uphold the family name and potentially, hopefully, walk in a father’s steps.” He sighed, unconsciously glancing to a flushed Charlotte. “A man naturally wishes for such a gift. Alas, it is not always granted.”

Lizzy felt the tension in the air, the heaviness of it pressing into her chest in a most uncomfortable manner, and Charlotte’s pained expression distressed her. Mr. Collins was always annoying, but Lizzy typically offset her irritation by oblique insults that he never comprehended but that amused her and made his presence tolerable. Not this time, however.

“Charlotte,” Lizzy stood, not giving Mr. Collins another opportunity to pontificate, “how about we take the children for a stroll in the Park? I love the walk through the roses.”

Taking their leave of Collins was not as easy as she hoped, but eventually they were alone. They pushed the prams over the rocky walkway, admiring the flowers in inane phrases that only served to heighten the strange tension. Finally, Lizzy could hold her tongue no longer.

“Charlotte, I have to ask. Are you unable to have more children?”

Her companion was silent for a long while. Lizzy feared studying her face, assuming the grief over an inability to conceive must be great. She knew that Charlotte’s delivery of the girls was tortuous, although Charlotte had never given details. It was not uncommon for injury to occur of a nature that made pregnancy impossible or unwise.

“No,” Charlotte answered in a grave tone. “I am sure I could have more children. I simply do not wish to have more.”

“Oh! I see. That is, I can imagine the birth was difficult so, yes, it would make sense…”

“I do not fear birth or being with child, Lizzy.”

Her voice was so low and raising from the middle of Charlotte’s chest due to her hung head that Lizzy had difficulty hearing the muttered words. But she did hear them and sad comprehension dawned instantly.

“I do not wish to do what is required to conceive. That holds no interest to me. I prefer the humiliation of not providing a son over the humiliation of… performing the act needed to create one.”

Lizzy wanted to cry. They salvaged their afternoon’s outing but Lizzy’s heart was heavy. She rushed into Darcy’s arms the second he walked into their chamber, practically knocking him off his booted feet. He managed to squeak out a few words of concern and question, but not many before she latched on to his lips with a desperate urgency that was thrilling—as his body instantly reacted to it—but rather frightening.

“Elizabeth,” he croaked, regaining his equilibrium enough to draw her away and meet her eyes. “I hate to sound as if I am complaining, but what is the meaning of this barrage? What has happened?”

“A conversation with Charlotte that has unsettled me greatly but also rekindled my appreciation for you and what we have together. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Just this morning as a matter of fact. Several times. Of course you also cried my name mixed with that of a deity, but I am certain you meant the part about loving me.”

Lizzy shook her head at his attempt to tease, clasping his face firmly within her palms. “That is precisely what I mean.”

“I am afraid I do not follow.”

“William, we are blessed in so many ways I can no longer count them, but our richest blessing is in how we love each other. How we desire each other and the pleasure it brings into our life and relationship is a true miracle.”

“I will not argue that declaration, dearest.” He kissed her softly, and then clasped her hand to lead toward the sofa. “Now tell me what this has to do with Mrs. Collins.”

“On the bed,” she tugged his hand, turning the opposite direction. “I will tell you but I must love you, Fitzwilliam.” He did not resist, but felt it obligatory to point out that dinner was served in less than an hour and they still needed to dress. “Some matters supersede dinner hour, even in your aunt’s house.”

She pushed him backward on the bed, immediately bending to kiss him deeply while stimulating with well-placed strokes. Darcy kissed back, totally forgetting about dinner engagements or the Collins question in seconds. Lizzy did relate the conversation with Charlotte in between kisses and peeling away restricting clothing. Darcy sympathized with her sadness over the plight of Charlotte but was unable to generate much of his own, especially under the present onslaught. All he could think was how grateful he was that she was his wife and not, God forbid, married to Mr. Collins. Imagining any woman engaged in marital relations with that sniveling pathetic excuse for a man was a vision he simply could not conjure. Nor would he ever try.

The Rosings visit was brief. Darcy was anxious to return to Pemberley and finalize preparations for their baby, and it was also the time for harvest and settling estate matters for the winter ahead. The latter could be handled by his steward and other staff, but Darcy thrived on being a part of the management.