by APRIL FLOYD
Mr. Darcy stood in the lane and extended his hand. There was a letter with a sprig of light pink sweet briar held in place by twine. It was far too sweet an offering for Elizabeth not to be wary of what thorns awaited inside the pages.
“I hoped to meet you here today,” he said as she took the letter, “will you read it?”
Before she might answer, he turned and left her standing alone in the lane. She looked down at the missive and carefully removed the sweet briar. The small flowers were delicate and quite unexpected. When she looked again into the grove, he was gone.
Turning toward the parsonage, Elizabeth opened the letter with growing curiosity. What might he say for himself after their disastrous meeting? The bridge was just ahead and Elizabeth hurried there to sit upon the sun warmed stone and read.
A half hour later, Elizabeth folded the letter with much anger and disbelief in her heart. Jumping down from the bridge, she marched immediately to the grove seeking some order for her troubled mind.
The words Mr. Darcy had written of Netherfield and his part in Jane’s unhappiness were still as haughty and cold as they had been the day before. In that he did not change. It was his tale of Wickham’s misfortune that caused her to think him a liar of the highest rank.
In all the story up until his father’s will, Mr. Darcy’s rendition matched that of Wickham’s. What followed in the letter she now held in her shaking hand could not be believed.
He recounted a very different sequence of events than Wickham, nothing but terrible lies of scandal and debauchery against his family and particularly his sister. As Elizabeth had only known Mr. Wickham to be a gentleman, Mr. Darcy’s words were a lie. He had simply denied the man his right and ruined his life as surely as he had done with Jane and Mr. Bingley.
She resolved to return to the parsonage and arrange to leave for London as soon as she might. Elizabeth shoved the bothersome letter in her skirt pocket and made her way back to the gate. Before she might cross into the lane, she took the letter out again and read it as she turned and wandered beyond the grove. For nearly an hour and a half, she read the letter again and again slowly realizing her error where Darcy and Wickham were concerned.
Mr. Wickham’s capacity for impropriety became quite clear to her as she recalled their conversations, his ease of speaking, the charm that was now unseemly. It gave her great misery to know she had been fooled by the man just as easily as Miss Darcy.
Elizabeth left the grove, her heart heavy and her mind still unsettled. With great dismay she whispered her regret. “Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, I had driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”
When she arrived at the parsonage, Charlotte and Mr. Collins were in the parlor. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had come earlier to give their farewells. They were to leave Kent for London in the morning.
“The colonel waited for nearly an hour Eliza. He wanted to search the park until you were found.”
Elizabeth made her regrets to her family for the inconvenience but her thoughts were with Mr. Darcy. Had he come to see whether she had read his letter? Did he hope she might forgive him or at the least, believe him?
“I must return to London as well, dear Charlotte. The last letter from Jane vexes me so that I can think of little else.” Elizabeth hugged her friend as Mr. Collins quit the parlor. The excuse of her sister was true but Mr. Darcy’s letter was the one that truly worried her now.
Elizabeth did not know when she might come to Kent again. She could never face Mr. Darcy after the letter and all she had learned of herself and her blasted pride.
A fortnight after her return to London, Elizabeth walked with Jane in the park across from the townhome of her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.
“What will you do, Lizzy? Mr. Darcy’s true character has been revealed by his letter. I should think you might wish to see him again and make your apologies if nothing else.”
Jane had advised her thus on two other occasions since her return to London but Elizabeth knew she had no way of having a letter delivered to Mr. Darcy. It simply wasn’t done. The fact remained that he had not made the offer of marriage again in his letter and he had orchestrated Jane’s separation from Mr. Bingley. No matter that she now thought Mr. Wickham a dangerous cad, the trespass remained where her sister was concerned
“It is better we do not meet again, Jane. There is nothing more to be said. I doubt him hearing me admit I was wrong about Wickham would matter very much. I still despise him for hurting you.”
Jane was very sorry for her dear sister’s misery but in that quarter they were now equally matched. There had been no word from Mr. Bingley. She suspected his sisters had never mentioned her visit to the Hurst townhome.
Elizabeth lifted her face to the brightness of the sun peeking through the clouds. “We shall be old maids together, my dear. It won’t be so bad as I desire your company more than any other.”
Jane snorted loudly as she knew the unladylike sound still amused her sister after all these years. “The future is not so settled as that, Lizzy. We are young and London holds many handsome, young gentlemen.”
Even as she said it, Elizabeth saw the shadows beneath her eyes and the fleeting of the smile from her lips. Jane would always mourn the loss of Mr. Bingley. It was not often a young lady fell in love with the man she hoped to marry before their vows were taken. Love usually came later if at all. Her sister would forever guard her heart.
“Let us turn back,” said Elizabeth, her joy at walking strained by the disquiet in her heart.
The sisters walked in companionable silence back to the stone arches that marked the entrance of the park. Elizabeth looked up as they stepped into the empty street and made to cross over and saw a fine carriage parked before the Gardiner townhome.
Her heart gave a tumble in her chest. The conveyance was akin to the one Mr. Darcy had brought to Kent. He would not deign to visit Gracechurch Street. Thinking herself as silly as Lydia, Elizabeth scolded herself for such notions.
When at last they gained the front door and went inside, the muted sound of female voices from the parlor assured her it was only guests of Aunt Gardiner.
Taking Jane’s spencer and placing it in the closet with her own, Elizabeth turned to go into the parlor and ran straight into her sister who stood blocking the door. “Jane, are you unwell?” she whispered and laid a hand on her sister’s back.
Aunt Madeline’s voice reached her and she glanced over Jane’s shoulder. “Lizzy, do come in and bring Jane. Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh have been awaiting your return.”
Elizabeth drew in a breath at this surprise and pushed Jane forward lightly, a nervous smile upon her lips. Miss de Bourgh rushed forward to greet her.
“Miss Elizabeth! I have wanted to come since a letter arrived from Mother saying you had left Kent. Fitzwilliam would not say where your aunt and uncle lived but Mr. Bingley spoke of it one night over dinner. Allow me to introduce my cousin, Georgiana Darcy.”
After all the young ladies had been properly introduced, Elizabeth sat beside Miss Anne whilst Jane sat with Miss Darcy. Their aunt called for tea to be served and soon the parlor buzzed with the sound of young ladies.
Jane entertained Miss Darcy to allow her sister an opportunity to speak with Miss de Bourgh. The young lady’s presence in London must have to do with Mr. Darcy’s proposal!
Elizabeth listened patiently as her partner spoke at length of Mr. Darcy and his kindness in hosting her in London at Darcy House.
“He truly is such a gentleman, Miss Elizabeth. When I informed Mother of my desire to come to Town, she argued against it but Fitzwilliam and Richard would not bend to her will. She does not like for me to travel without her, you know. I believe she relented when she thought the visit might finally result in a proposal of marriage from Fitzwilliam. We shall never tell her he will not ask for my hand.”
Here she paused and gave a sly giggle. Elizabeth
was shocked by the behavior as the young lady had never been more than a shadow within the walls of Rosings. Was her illness an act contrived to thwart her mother’s wishes for her future? It seemed entirely possible now as Elizabeth surveyed the light in Miss de Bourgh’s eyes.
“Why would you reject a man as handsome and wealthy as your cousin? You said yourself he is so kind and a true gentleman. Is there another who has caught your eye?”
Anne de Bourgh laughed and took Elizabeth’s hand.
“My dear, how might I have met any eligible gentlemen at Rosings? You were there for nigh on two months. The only men of my circle to call upon my mother are my cousins. If Fitzwilliam marries, perhaps his wife shall give a ball here in Town. Mother will never come to London; she hates it so! I might meet the man of my dreams at Darcy House or perhaps even Pemberley. My mother cannot live forever can she? If a match is made, what gentleman would not be happy to wait for the day when I would be free to marry? Rosings Park is a lovely prize; do you not agree?”
For a moment Elizabeth could only stare at the lovely creature before her and try to make sense of the questions swirling in her mind. The young lady had become a calculating woman in the space of but a few moments and the difference left her most confused.
“The lady before me is not the same lady I met in Rosings. I hardly know what to think.”
Miss Anne gave a conspiratorial wink.
“We were ever in the company of my mother, Miss Elizabeth. I have had to play the dutiful daughter for many years but I have maintained a small hope for my future. Any young lady denied a season or any manner of friendship could do no less. Let us talk of your future. Will you stay in London for a time?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Jane and I will travel home to Hertfordshire soon. We have been away for some time and I do miss my father.”
Miss Anne hid her agitation at this news. “You must bring your lovely sister to dinner at Darcy House tomorrow evening then. I should be terribly sad if you leave before we might become better acquainted.”
The idea of dining with Mr. Darcy left Elizabeth with a mix of emotions. Surely he would not wish to see her again and certainly not in his own home. “Will Mr. Darcy and the colonel be there? Perhaps tea would be better.”
Miss Darcy broke into their conversation. “Anne, we must be leaving my dear. Have you invited Miss Elizabeth for dinner? Miss Jane must come too.”
Miss Darcy glanced from one sister to the other as she awaited a reply. Elizabeth could hardly reject such an invitation out of hand. “Jane and I would be delighted,” she managed as Jane sent her a pleading look.
“Cook will be thrilled to serve three more!” Miss Darcy exclaimed as they all stood.
“Three?” Elizabeth asked as the party of young ladies walked to the front door.
“Why yes! Mr. Bingley will attend. He much prefers dinner at Darcy House when in Town.” Miss Darcy confided as she swept outside.
Jane took Elizabeth’s arm for support as the sisters waved goodbye to their new friends. “Lizzy, you did not say Miss de Bourgh had come to Town with her cousins. I do not think either of us wish to attend this dinner. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley will certainly be most uncomfortable as well.”
Elizabeth knew her sister spoke the truth. It was very odd that Miss Anne had come to London and odder still she had come to Gracechurch Street. It seemed the young lady meant to abandon Rosings for a happier life in Town.
“I was not aware her mother had allowed her to make such a trip, Jane, as I left the next morning after Mr. Darcy and the colonel. This Miss de Bourgh is so very unlike the one I first met in Kent.”
The young ladies of Darcy House arrived home in time to greet Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam as the men returned from a visit with Richard’s parents, the Matlocks.
“Georgie, would you play for us in the salon? Mother’s inquisition regarding our visit to Rosings Park has left me in dire need of diversion. I cherish the battlefield over the battles between Mother and Aunt Catherine.”
Mr. Darcy agreed. “Let us spend a quieter afternoon with only the amusements of Darcy House. I will be most pleased to return to Pemberley in a few weeks.”
Anne took Richard’s arm and followed the Darcys up to the salon. Her voice was a whisper to avoid being overheard. “We saw them today, cousin. Miss Elizabeth had gone for a walk with her sister Jane but we awaited their return. They shall come for dinner tomorrow evening. We must send an invitation for Mr. Bingley. There is little time for our plan, I fear.”
“Such wonderful news, Anne! Darcy has spoken of little more than retiring to Pemberley as soon as he might arrange the trip. It is only your presence that has kept him in Town.”
Anne smiled a devilish smile. “Soon her presence will cause him to forget his plans. We must do all we might to bring them to an understanding. I cannot bear to see him so unhappy. He has never seemed as bereft nor fearful of the future. Has he mentioned her again since we left Kent?”
Richard nodded in the affirmative but fell silent as they entered the salon. He left Anne upon a sofa near the piano forte and went to speak with Darcy for a time. When he was able, he left his cousin with a book and returned to Anne’s side.
“He cannot forget her, nor her refusal. Are you certain we should go forward with this plan? What if we cause them both greater pain and embarrassment?”
Anne made a half-hearted swat with her fan in her cousin’s direction. “Nonsense, Richard. Fitzwilliam would never have proposed to a lady he did not love and Miss Elizabeth is a most sensible young woman. There is no reason they ought to remain apart when they are such a wonderful match. We simply must help her see he is not so terrible. Mr. Bingley will not resist her sister a second time. Miss Jane Bennet is an uncommon beauty. Once that matter is settled, what objection might Miss Elizabeth offer?”
The colonel relaxed into the sofa and allowed the skilled playing of Miss Darcy to soothe him.
“I can see a hundred ways it might end in disaster, Anne, but you are right, we must at least try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say.”
Chapter 6
Elizabeth’s stomach rejected the idea that she would dine with Mr. Darcy in but a few hours’ time as Jane fussed with her hair.
“I cannot think it wise, Jane. I was most unkind to him and the letter, well you have seen it for yourself. Would that I had known all of it before his proposal.”
Jane’s hand ceased the brushing of her sister’s hair and her eyes lit with excitement. “Would you have accepted him, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth could not hide her anguish. “I could not see the goodness in him Jane. Not after the way he hurt you. And I gave Wickham more consideration simply because he spoke so sweetly and paid calls to Longbourn. Do you not see how childish I have been? Mr. Darcy must despise me now.”
Jane placed her brush upon the dressing table and sat next to her sister. “I do not believe he hates you, Lizzy. He would not have bothered with the letter if that were true. He only wrote it because he could not bear for you to think ill of him a moment longer. You say he gave it to you early the very next morning. He must have been up the entire night composing it.”
Elizabeth had not thought of this and it gave her an odd sense of pride. She silently scolded herself for being so affected by vanity. It was how Wickham had won her trust.
Aunt Madeline knocked upon the door and entered, her excitement palpable. “The carriage from Darcy House has come. Will you keep them waiting?”
Elizabeth squirmed on the upholstered bench she and Jane shared before the looking glass. Their eyes met in its surface. Together they stood and quit the room with Aunt Madeline following behind.
“Do ask the ladies to come for tea again, Jane, and be certain to mind your tongue, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy’s name is known throughout the whole of London. It would not hurt your uncle’s business to make a friend of the man.”
Aunt Madeline was not a scheming matchmaker like their mother, but her words were not l
ost on her nieces. Though London was much larger than Meryton, the gossip traveled twice as quickly. Elizabeth gave her aunt her solemn vow she would be polite and avoid all manner of provocation.
Elizabeth had not shared Mr. Darcy’s letter with the Gardiners but she feared she must at least confide in her father and soon. Her youngest sister Lydia had grown quite fond of Wickham and the Forsters had invited her to join them in Brighton as the militia moved there for the summer.
With the knowledge of Miss Darcy’s near ruin at the hands of the rakish Lieutenant, Elizabeth determined she must write to her father and give a warning.
Joining Jane at the front door, Elizabeth allowed her aunt one last inspection. “It is not the full moon, Aunt! I will not change into a hideous beast nor bounce home inside a pumpkin shell at the stroke of midnight.”
Aunt Madeline fixed her favorite niece with a withering glance that was softened by the hint of a smirk. “My dear Lizzy, the very last to believe in fairytales. Just for tonight, live as though you were a princess...without stinging the poor prince with the tip of that sword you call a tongue.”
Elizabeth wished her aunt knew how her tongue would be tied when she met Mr. Darcy once more. All the words she wished to say were not welcome to his ears. She had unleashed her quicksilver sword on him at Hunsford and dealt a killing blow.
“Come Lizzy, we must not be late.” Jane took her arm and the sisters descended the front steps to the waiting carriage.
The streets of London lit up before them as the elegant conveyance rolled comfortably along. The Mayfair district always delighted Elizabeth and Jane but this particular evening, the Miss Bennets were each lost in thought, too distracted to admire the homes and shops they passed.
When at last the carriage stopped before a townhome on Grosvenor, Elizabeth looked to her sister. “Oh Jane, I do not think we should have come!”
