Carrie Bebris: North by Northanger

“How long are you staying in Bath?”

“A fortnight.”

“So little time? You should remain at least six weeks. You cannot have any reason to rush home, and it is foolish to exhaust yourself with travel.”

“I am sure a fortnight will prove quite long enough.”

“Hardly. One requires twice that period simply to become oriented. Which baths have you tried? People speak highly of the King’s and Queen’s baths, but the Cross Bath is superior. I have instructed Anne to use it exclusively. Have you gone into it yet?”

“No, I have not used any of the baths.”

“None? But you have, at least, been imbibing the water.”

“Actually, I was just about to sample it for the first time when you happened past.”

“You will no doubt find its flavor unpleasant at first. It is an acquired taste. The water is quite fortifying, however. I insist that Anne drink a full pint each day.”

“Indeed?” Elizabeth said. “And how much do you drink?”

“I consume a glass daily whilst in Bath, and I advise you to do likewise. It keeps one in good health.”

Lady Catherine expounded another ten minutes on the benefits of regular pilgrimages to Bath before spotting an acquaintance amid the throng. Darcy took advantage of Lady Dalrymple’s arrival to excuse himself and Elizabeth, citing a wish to take some air.

“I will expect you in Camden Place on the morrow, Mrs. Darcy,” Lady Catherine said as they departed. “We have important matters to discuss.”

The crisp air proved refreshing after the closeness of the Pump Room. They walked slowly, passing the abbey and crossing the churchyard to Cheap Street. The road teemed with carriages, horses, and carts, and they were some time waiting to cross it. Indeed, merely standing on the pavement, they found themselves quite in danger of being run over by a gentleman doing a rather poor job of driving four-in-hand, and swearing at his “deuced beasts” for their slow pace. Eventually, however, they traversed the thoroughfare and continued past the guildhall to amble over Pulteney Bridge.

Shops lined both sides of the stone bridge. Though they paused before several windows to admire the wares for sale, they found little to tempt them. The only shop that captured Elizabeth’s attention was one displaying gentlemen’s walking sticks.

“Darcy,” she said, pointing. “That cane on the right appears very similar to yours. Did you purchase it here?”

“Mine was a gift from my father when I left home for Cambridge. I do not know who made it.” Darcy lifted his walking stick and held it across both palms. It was beautifully crafted and one of his favorite possessions; he carried it nearly everywhere. A cinquefoil, recalling the Darcy coat of arms, adorned the head of its silver grip, which ended at a wide band engraved with smaller cinquefoils. He kept its length so richly polished that he could almost see his reflection in the deep red-brown wood. A slight imperfection, where the grain widened around a shilling-sized whorl, marked the cane’s sole flaw, but was scarcely noticeable unless one sought it.

“My father sometimes came to Bath. He might have bought it here during one of his stays.”

“Shall we go inside and ask the shopkeeper whether it is his work?”

He shook his head and returned the cane to its usual position at his side. “I would much rather continue walking with you.”

They journeyed only a few more yards, however, before another shop — a pastry-cook’s — brought Elizabeth to a halt.

“Are you hungry?” Darcy asked.

“No, but your daughter is.”

They went within and enjoyed strawberry ices as they watched passers-by through the shop window. When they had finished, they bought hot Bath cakes to take home. Darcy took her arm as they left the bridge and passed the fountain in Laura Place.

“I confess surprise that you chose to reveal your condition to my aunt, given her treatment of you since our engagement.”

“She would learn of it soon enough. Meanwhile, admitting her into our confidence seemed the best means of making amends with her. She is one of your few remaining Fitzwilliam relations, after all.”

The maternal branch of his family tree was indeed a small one. Lady Catherine was his mother’s only sister. Catherine and Anne’s brother — Lord Hugh Fitzwilliam, Earl of Southwell — had died not long after Lady Anne, leaving the earldom to his eldest son, Roger. Hugh’s second son was a colonel in the army. A third son, a naval officer, had died at sea.

Darcy appreciated Elizabeth’s willingness to forgive the many insults Lady Catherine had heaped upon her. The breach with his aunt had weighed more heavily upon him than he cared to acknowledge. He considered family connections of utmost importance, relationships to be preserved except in cases of dishonorable conduct that blackened the family name. In their commitment to protecting the family’s reputation, he and his aunt agreed. They differed, however, in their definition of discreditable behavior. Darcy defined it as willful disregard for the legal and ethical rules of society; Lady Catherine, as disregard for the opinions of Lady Catherine.

“What caused you to believe that news of a child would repair a relationship my aunt herself chose to break? She appeared horrified by the very idea.”

“Yes, you have chosen an unworthy vessel to bear your offspring. Our progeny will undoubtedly suffer from their inferior maternal ancestry.” Elizabeth held his arm more tightly as they negotiated an uneven stretch of pavement. “However, Jane and my dear friend Charlotte Collins both tell me that the moment the world learns that a woman is in the family way, she becomes a lodestone for unsolicited counsel from all quarters on every possible matter related to her condition. Knowing Lady Catherine’s propensity for instruction, I suspected she would prove unable to resist the opportunity to educate me in everything I have been doing wrong thus far, and to issue endless orders regarding my conduct and habits for the remainder of my wait.”

“Perhaps you should take notes during your visit tomorrow. You would not wish to forget a valuable piece of advice.”

“Should she offer one, I shall rely upon you to remind me of it. You do intend to accompany me?”

“Much as I long to enjoy Lady Catherine’s hospitality, I believe she tendered her invitation solely to you. Besides, I would be completely in your way. My aunt seemed to have matters of a most particular nature to discuss with you, and the presence of a gentleman among the party might hinder even her outspokenness.”

“That is precisely why I wish you to come.”

“Did you not just say that you effectively solicited her ladyship’s attention?”

“That does not mean I look forward to subjecting myself to it.”

“So now I am to rescue you?” He assisted her up the steps as they reached their lodgings.

“I would do as much for you.”

“Endure my aunt’s condescension to spare my suffering? That is love, indeed. But I am afraid you are on your own for this conversation.”

She looked at him coquettishly — a device so foreign to his straightforward Elizabeth that he nearly laughed to see it.

“Have you no compassion for the mother of your son?”

At that, he did laugh. ” Now the child is a boy?”

He shook his head and led her into the house. “A noble attempt, Mrs. Darcy, but I am unmoved. Lady Catherine’s summons was your own doing. As I intend to teach our young Henry or John, if you create a plight, you must see it through yourself.”

“That is an important lesson for our child to learn.” She stopped at the hall mirror to remove her bonnet, catching his gaze in the glass. “Little Henrietta or Johanna will thank you for it.”