Longbourn's Songbird

by Beau North

  “Thanks,” she said, her voice mild and pleasant. She held the case out to him, offering him a cigarette. He took one automatically. He hadn’t had a cigarette in years; after the war, he’d lost the taste for them. He lit his now, the ritual of it somehow comforting. He smiled at the woman beside him.

  “Nice night,” she said conversationally.

  “It is now,” he replied, giving her a smile that looked easier than it felt. She returned it with one of her own.

  “Aren’t you cute.”

  “Not especially. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Only if you ask me my name. I never let strangers buy me things.”

  Richard smiled. He’d played this game before. It always ended the same way.

  “My name’s Richard. Could I beg to ask what yours is?” He put his hand over his heart as if struck by her beauty.

  “Julia,” she said, laughing. “And I would love a drink, Richard.”

  “Perfect.” He signaled the bartender, swallowing his disappointment. Just as he’d thought. All the same.

  ***

  “Who?” Georgiana asked again, unsure whether she heard her brother right the first time. She stood at the entrance to the first aid tent where Dr. Payne was tending her brother’s wound.

  “Elizabeth Bennet,” he said again. “She was the girl that was singing with the last act. The Burchette something or other.”

  “That’s your Elizabeth?”

  “Mr. Darcy, please hold still.” The doctor frowned at his patient and began swabbing the cut with a tincture of iodine, which stained his arm orange.

  “Sorry, Doc.” He turned back to his sister. “Georgie, I understand if it will be awkward for you, but it would…it would make me happy if you would meet her.”

  “Why?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “Are you going to try to make things right?”

  “Eventually,” he grumbled. “There’s no easy way to bring it up in conversation. Oh hello, Elizabeth. I’m sorry you walked in on”—he looked at the doctor as though just remembering he was there—“what you saw. I’m sorry that I left without a word, and as it happens, I’m also sorry for the time I insulted you in public and all those other times I treated you like a pariah.”

  Dr. Payne raised his eyebrows but kept silent, swaddling Darcy’s arm in layers of soft white bandage.

  “Don’t forget meddling in her sister’s love life.”

  “Not helpful, Georgie.”

  “Right…right. Sorry, Will. I’m just trying to think of how you can fix this.”

  “You’re done, Mr. Darcy.” The doctor began cleaning up after his patient. “Try to baby the arm if you can. Keep the bandage clean until tomorrow, then it should be all right to take it off. You don’t need stitches, but you might have a scar.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Oh, and Mr. Darcy, it’s not that complicated. There are two things to remember: honesty…and flowers.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Collins Home

  Camden, South Carolina

  The trouble started that night over a ham steak of all things.

  Charlotte winced as she held the cold washrag to the cut just under her eye. It was the first time she’d gotten the end of his strap outside the bedroom. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to dinner; her mind was on Anne as it was most evenings. The smell of burning meat filled the house. Charlotte didn’t even have the windows open before she saw the hungry look in her husband’s eyes.

  “It’s not that bad,” she said, but he was already standing. He’d become quite good at removing his belt with one hand.

  “Be a good girl now,” he said, sliding the leather strap off his pants with agonizing slowness. “You remember what the book says, don’t you, Charlotte? Ephesians, chapter five.”

  Charlotte hated that she felt herself beginning to cower already as she recited the verse.

  “Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord,” she said, unable to keep her voice from trembling.

  As the belt lashed out and struck her, Charlotte wondered whether she was becoming an atheist.

  ***

  “Lizzie, stop fidgeting! Here they come!”

  Elizabeth straightened her dress for the tenth time. She looked up to see Mr. Darcy for the first time in months, and her heart leapt at the sight of him. His left sleeve was torn at the elbow with his arm wrapped in a thick white bandage.

  On his other arm was a tall young woman with thick, honey-colored hair.

  When she looked at the girl’s face, Elizabeth gasped. She easily could have been Richard’s sister rather than Darcy’s; they looked so similar. They had the same straight, thin nose, the same blue-green eyes. Not for the first time, Elizabeth wondered how much trouble they all might have been spared had everyone known of that particular family connection up front.

  The Darcys stopped in front of her. Elizabeth thought he looked as striking as ever, even dirty and wrapped in bandages. Were his eyes always that green?

  “Miss Bennet,” he said simply.

  “Mr. Darcy.” She nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It seems like every time I see you, you’re injured. Are you in some sort of mummy training—starting with small bandages and working your way up?”

  “Progress is progress,” he replied, smiling nervously. Elizabeth blushed. She’d forgotten how much she liked that smile. She decided that she could think about all the reasons he might hurt her later. For now, she was happy to see that smile again.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I’d like you to meet my sister, Georgiana Darcy.” He guided the girl forward. Georgiana bit her lip, looking at Elizabeth’s shoes as she put out her hand.

  “I’m very glad to meet you, Miss Elizabeth. I’ve heard so much about you; I feel like we already know each other.”

  “I can only hope that some of what you might’ve heard was true,” Elizabeth said warmly, hoping to put the shy girl at ease.

  Darcy interrupted. “My sister will tell you that I never exaggerate.”

  Elizabeth’s brow arched teasingly. “In that case, I am even more skeptical. It’s a rule that folks who claim to never exaggerate are usually the worst offenders.”

  “I’ll have you know I told her that you were very smart and very talented among other things.”

  A warmth that had nothing to do with the weather spread through her. “Then again, there are exceptions to every rule.”

  Everyone laughed, and it was then that Elizabeth remembered her manners.

  “Mr. Darcy, Miss Georgiana, may I introduce my aunt Mrs. Madeline Gardiner?”

  “Gardiner?” He looked at Elizabeth. “Is this your aunt from Charleston?”

  “She is,” Elizabeth said, blushing at the mention of Charleston. She didn’t know whether it was necessary for them to talk about Richard or the past, but she was sure of one thing: any reference to it was likely going to be awkward for both of them for a while.

  “Excuse me, but are you Edward Gardiner’s wife?” Darcy asked, surprising both Elizabeth and her aunt.

  “I am,” Maddie said. “For going on twenty-five years now.”

  “Several of my businesses use Gardiner shipping. I’ve never actually met your husband. I’ve just seen the name come across my desk. I’ve been very happy with the relationship.”

  “Well, let me thank you on his behalf, Mr. Darcy,” Maddie said happily.

  They soon fell into an easy conversation with Darcy giving Elizabeth and Georgiana the occasional furtive look. Elizabeth understood what he was trying to say. She turned to the younger girl with a question in her eyes.

  “Miss Darcy, would you be so kind as to give me a little tour of the park?”

  Georgiana looked surprised but eager, and she looked to her brother with a plea in her eyes.

  “Is it all right, William?”

  “You go on ahead, Georgie. We’ll catch up.”

  Elizabeth watched him closely as he spoke with his sister, admirin
g the easy affection. She put an arm around her waist and guided her away.

  “Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get ourselves into, Miss Darcy,” she said with a smile.

  For all of Georgiana’s worry about not having anything to say, she found that Elizabeth talked enough for both of them. After a while, she realized the other girl was trying to cover the fact that she was just as nervous as Georgiana was, and it made her feel a little easier.

  She was even brave enough to bring up topics of conversation on her own and asked Elizabeth whether she might get to hear her sing again.

  “I’ll sing only if you promise to play for me, Georgiana.”

  Georgiana pleaded. “Oh, not me! What if I ruin it?”

  “Then we both go down together!” Elizabeth laughed. “If we’re going to embarrass ourselves, I think we ought to do a good job of it. And you know what they say: ‘strength in numbers’ and all that.”

  Georgiana laughed—not a giggle but a full-bodied laugh—then stopped in the middle of the thoroughfare. Elizabeth stopped a few paces ahead of her and turned back, asking whether everything was all right. Georgiana gave her a watery smile and nodded.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed.

  ***

  “God, I could kill him.” Anne swore as she gently touched the livid rectangular bruise that stood out against Charlotte’s cheek. They sat on the cameo-backed sofa in Anne’s rooms. Anne’s mother was lying down in her own rooms as she often did on summer afternoons.

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” Charlotte winced at Anne’s touch.

  “Oh, Ducks.” Anne sighed. “This will never do.”

  “What would you propose?” Charlotte asked dryly. Anne leaned forward and put the lightest of kisses on Charlotte’s bruise.

  “Will said something once that I’ve never forgotten although I’m not sure I’m using it in the right context. ‘War is like love; it always finds a way.’”

  Charlotte chuckled. “Your context is fine. It’s from a play. It was one of Lizzie’s favorites when she’d decide she wanted to be political. Thank heavens those phases never lasted long.”

  “It will though,” Anne said. “Find a way.” She kissed Charlotte again, a soft, lingering kiss.

  Charlotte didn’t share her lover’s conviction, but all her troubles seemed to vanish when Anne kissed her. Neither of them noticed the unlatched door—nor the person who looked through it.

  ***

  Georgiana turned around, a little smile tugging at her mouth at the sight of her brother walking a good distance behind them with Mrs. Gardiner. They’d been walking for almost an hour, from the park to the town square and back. In that time, Georgiana had grown quite comfortable in Elizabeth’s presence, so much so that an invitation to Pemberley had been issued and accepted, though with much blushing and nervousness from both parties. She actually laughed at Elizabeth’s asking whether her brother would mind her visiting their home.

  Looking back now at the hopeful look on his face, Georgiana wasn’t sure whom her brother was more reluctant to let out of his sight—her or Elizabeth Bennet.

  Elizabeth followed the direction of her gaze, an amused light in her eyes.

  “I take it your brother isn’t accustomed to letting you roam without him,” she said with a little laugh.

  Georgiana smiled and nodded, turning back to the path ahead. “Yes, he’s very protective. Not that I haven’t given him reason to be.”

  “So you’re a typical teenage girl, then?”

  “Not as bad as that, I hope,” Georgiana said. She chewed her bottom lip. In the months that he’d been home, her brother had spoken often of the time he spent with Elizabeth and the conversations they’d had. But Georgiana had never before spoken with another woman of what happened to her.

  “But my actions…I know that William told you…”

  “Georgiana, I have to stop you there,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I’ve recently developed a healthy dislike of secrets, so in the spirit of honesty, I think you should know that you’re not the only young woman to have once thought George Wickham hung the moon. I absolutely refuse to allow a fine, young lady such as you to take the onus of that silver-tongued devil’s actions. He knew better. We did not.”

  Georgiana turned scarlet at this little speech, grateful to Elizabeth for putting herself in the same boat. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth huffed. “No need to thank me. That man makes me madder than a wet hen. I wish he’d get his teeth knocked in.”

  Georgiana’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, but he did. Haven’t you heard?” She looked meaningfully back at her brother.

  Elizabeth gasped. “No! Georgiana, are you teasing me?”

  Georgiana laughed again. “Elizabeth, I’m not sure I’d even know how to begin to do that.” Her companion chuckled and put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  ***

  Elizabeth had thought that the driveway into Longbourn was long, but it was nothing compared to the lane leading up to Pemberley.

  Her nose touched the glass of her window as the winding road took them through wooded groves and over bubbling creeks glittering with mica. A canopy of towering trees filtered the sunlight, turning everything green and gold. She longed to get out and explore these places. She felt as if every rock and leaf held a secret that only she could unlock.

  Elizabeth rolled the window down a bit, letting the fresh air in. It was cool and clean and scented with mountain laurel and honeysuckle.

  “This is the loveliest place I’ve ever seen,” she said to her aunt with complete honesty.

  “And we haven’t even seen the house,” Maddie said with a knowing smile.

  She was about to say that no house could compare with the beauty of these grounds when they finally came in sight of the manor.

  Her smile faltered at the sight of it. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Poor Will, she thought. It explained so much about him.

  Pemberley Manor was centered on a backdrop of the Blue Ridge Mountains and tucked in front of the peaks as if it had risen there naturally. A wide, trim lawn surrounded by trees framed the drive.

  The grounds were simple and unadorned. She was pleased to see that the line of trees was not painfully symmetrical, but rather they had been allowed to grow naturally. The house was an expanse of smooth limestone that seemed to glow in the early afternoon light, and its slate roof was punctuated with intricately scrolled gables and copper drains turned green with age.

  “There are gargoyles on his roof,” Elizabeth said in wonder. “Actual gargoyles.” She shook her head, her confidence plummeting by the second. “Oh Aunt, what are we doing here?” She grabbed a handful of her skirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers. Maddie leaned forward, taking Elizabeth’s hand in her own.

  “We were invited, remember? Now stop fidgeting and try to smile for heaven’s sake.”

  “Tall order, that.” Elizabeth said, but she did manage one weak smile before opening the car door and climbing out.

  They were greeted by a plump, silver-haired woman in a spotless if dowdy dress, who smiled warmly at them.

  “Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet. I’m Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper.” Elizabeth smiled, remembering that Darcy had a genuine affection for this woman.

  “Mr. Darcy and Miss Georgiana are expecting you. If you’ll just follow me?” Mrs. Reynolds offered them another friendly smile before turning and leading them into the house.

  Maddie asked a few polite questions about the house and its history while Elizabeth did her best not to gawk at the lofty entrance, rich wood beams, and immaculate stone tiles. Her eyes feasted on the paintings and tapestries that hung on the walls. Even the walls were art, with detailed patterns carved into every column and crevice. Mrs. Reynolds seemed pleased at her curiosity, answering her aunt’s question with a pride that could not be mistaken.

  Elizabeth admired the si
mple, elegant craftsmanship of the furnishings; nothing was gaudy or overwrought. She couldn’t suppress a smile at seeing the family photos that were displayed alongside the masterpieces, making the grand rooms feel more welcoming, less imposing.

  She was so absorbed in her careful study that she nearly collided with the housekeeper as they came to a stop in front of a heavy wooden door. Elizabeth heard the tinkling of a piano from the door, the sound stopping abruptly with the housekeeper’s knock.

  “Come in,” a deep voice said from behind the door, making her heart leap into her throat. That voice she’d know anywhere.

  Mrs. Reynolds swept the door open and ushered them into the room, where Georgiana sat at an enormous piano, Darcy standing just behind her with his hand on her shoulder. The siblings wore expressions so similar—both so solemn and eager—that Elizabeth had to bite back a laugh. Their gravity put her at ease, knowing it was in her nature to make things light.

  Georgiana rose and offered a hand to Maddie, who smiled and took it gamely. She turned to Elizabeth and did the same, but Elizabeth only laughed, pulling the girl into a brief but tight hug. The younger girl blushed but laughed, hugging her back. When they turned around, Darcy was there with a small, secret smile on his lips.

  “Welcome to Pemberley, Elizabeth.”

  ***

  Climbing down the rose trellis was all well and good as long as it wasn’t covered in roses.

  Lydia preferred to dart across the roof, thankful that her parents kept to the ground floor these days. At the northern edge of the roof there was a drain sturdy enough to shimmy down, and unlike the rose trellis, it didn’t have a two-foot drop to the ground.