Love Never Fails

by Jennifer Joy

  That afternoon, Elizabeth found herself seated next to Jane in Uncle's carriage. Her foot was propped up between Aunt and Uncle, and they did their best not to touch it during their jostling ride.

  Elizabeth was more concerned with what she could see out of the window: the fields she had walked over countless times; the familiar curves and dips in the road she would not have need to travel anymore; the buildings in Meryton. She pressed her fingers against the cold glass and wished they could travel slower, but she dared not say anything. Aunt was anxious about Emma and Elizabeth would not dream of putting her nostalgia ahead of the needs of her cousin.

  "Netherfield Park is empty once again. Mr. Bingley gave no indication that he would ever return," declared Uncle, startling Elizabeth out of her melancholy nostalgia.

  "That is a pity. Mr.—" she started before remembering that Jane knew nothing of her incident involving Mr. Darcy. Nor did she intend for her to find out.

  Aunt spoke. "It is a pity, and I was sad to hear of it. I have always held a special fondness for that estate. It is so well situated and has such convenient access from the road."

  Uncle leaned back and stroked his whiskers. "I would have liked to have presented my card to Mr. Bingley. If he is who I think he is, his uncle did business on several occasions with an old partner of mine."

  Aunt inclined her head. "Really? Which one was that?"

  "Mr. Finley. Do you remember him? He has since moved on to the cotton trade up north, but he helped me immensely to establish myself in London. He used to brag of the runs they would do across the channel. It was all very quiet, you know. They dealt in spirits and munitions," he said under his breath, as if anyone outside the carriage could hear him.

  "What is the name of the man you suppose is Mr. Bingley's uncle? Have I heard you speak of him?" asked Aunt, to Elizabeth’s delight. The man sounded interesting. Elizabeth held on to the edge of her seat and leaned forward. She would not miss a word of this.

  "Sir Alastair Rutledge was his name. He was bestowed a knighthood for his favors to the crown, and he married a young woman with flaming red hair and a personality to match. From what I heard, his years with her were the happiest and most diverting of his life. He died five years ago, leaving his fortune and a large house in St. James for his widow, Lady Rutledge. After his death, I never heard more of his family, not knowing them personally."

  “That is all?” Elizabeth sank back into the cushion in disappointment.

  Uncle chuckled. “It is all I know, but believe me that I aim to present my card to Mr. Bingley once I am reassured that Emma is well.”

  Jane commented, "How odd the Bingleys should leave so soon after letting the estate. Aunt Phillips told us that Mr. Bingley had brought his sisters with him, and I had hoped to make their acquaintance. I cannot believe everything Aunt said about his sisters and the other gentleman they had staying with them."

  Elizabeth wondered where she had been when Aunt Phillips had revealed her thoughts on their neighbors. She could not recall. "What did she say?" she asked, trusting that Jane would soften Aunt's blows to suit her own forgiving nature.

  "I do not feel comfortable repeating everything she said against them. It was most unflattering. Of Mr. Bingley, she had nothing but good to relate. Evidently, Miss Bingley refused to dance with any man she did not deem to be a gentleman at the Meryton Assembly. The gentleman with them, Mr. Darcy, refused to dance the entire evening though gentlemen were scarce in the room. Of that, you know, but I merely repeat it for Aunt’s benefit. Aunt Phillips thinks that he is a most disagreeable man. However, I am certain they must have had cause to act the way they did and if asked, they would provide a reasonable explanation."

  "I should think that someone like Mr. Darcy would find it uncomfortable to mingle with strangers at a public assembly. He is accustomed to refined company and familiar friends in his social circle," said Aunt with a flicker of her eyes at Elizabeth, who would have risen up in his defense had she been able to speak more freely to Jane.

  What she heard ran contrary to the Mr. Darcy she knew. He had been all kindness and understanding in her limited experience. She pressed the handkerchief between her wrist and coat sleeve. "Do you think him a snob?" Elizabeth asked.

  Aunt paused in thought, clearly mulling over her words. "It is not so much that, but rather that he is of a high social class which is unaccustomed to rubbing elbows with the working class. I cannot imagine that it would be easy for him to… blend in. I knew his mother when I lived in Lambton. She was a gentle, soft-spoken woman. If he inherited her shyness, it would be easy to assume that he is proud. People often mistake shyness for pride."

  Elizabeth could see that, but refusing to dance when partners were lacking went beyond shyness. On the other hand, would not a proud man avoid a public assembly, knowing that he would have to mingle with commoners?

  "I dare say you can reserve your own judgments of Mr. Darcy and the Bingleys for when you meet them yourselves. Mr. Phillips told me that Mr. Bingley has returned to his home in London and Mr. Darcy will do so upon completing some business out of town." Uncle looked pointedly at Elizabeth.

  Aunt noticed the exchange and, with an arched brow, she focused on Jane. “My love, once we are home and reassured that Emma is safe, I should like very much for you to call on Mr. Darcy. Perhaps, through him, we might arrange an introduction to the Bingleys. Miss Bingley might be a good friend to Jane and Lizzy. Sufficient time has passed to respectfully mourn, and I believe it will do my dear nieces more good to ease gently into society.”

  Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with society. She did not feel ready for company. But she would do anything for her sister. If that meant befriending Mr. Bingley’s snobbish sister, then so be it. If it meant that she would more often be put into Mr. Darcy’s company, then she could endure anything.

  Chapter 11

  "Uncle, I have made a decision and I seek your help," said Elizabeth before she lost her nerve.

  He looked up from his morning paper. "Yes? Dare I ask what you have decided?" He motioned for her to sit next to him at the breakfast table.

  "I have been here nearly two weeks now, and I appreciate the generosity you and Aunt have shown in taking Jane and me into your home and treating us as if we were your own daughters. I do not want to appear ungrateful in the least, but it has become apparent to me that I need an occupation." Taking a deep breath to calm her pounding heart, she continued, "Jane fits in so well here. She is a natural with the children, and she is content. I, on the other hand, feel useless."

  Uncle folded up his paper. "But you play with them so well. They love the games you invent."

  She would not back down now. "And I adore playing with them. It is just that…." She folded her hands together on top of the table. "I feel that I am not in charge of my own life. Things have happened, and decisions have been made for me.” She held her hands up when Uncle made to protest. “I am fortunate that they have been mostly good decisions, but I feel restless and anxious. I must do something." She stopped, frustrated that she could not express her burning desire for independence better without giving cause for offense. Aunt and Uncle had been so kind, how could she tell them outright that she felt stifled in their home?

  Uncle looked at her intently through his narrowed eyes. Only when he took a sip of his tea and sat back into his chair did Elizabeth breathe.

  "I think I understand your meaning, dear girl, and I can find no fault with it given your upbringing. You were raised with a much greater amount of freedom than most ladies are allowed, and I daresay you would be much happier if you could find a purpose to suit you. Tell me, what do you think would satisfy you? We could hire a tutor to teach you a new instrument if you like…"

  That was not at all what she had in mind. "I think it best for me to seek employment— something that will enable me to exercise my mind. I can be content with that, knowing that I am earning my keep." There would be no mindless needlework and empty accomplishments in her fut
ure.

  Uncle abruptly set down his teacup, clattering in the saucer and spilling tea over the edge. "I do hope that we have never given you cause to believe yourself a burden in our home." His concern drew lines across his brow.

  She was quick to reassure him. "No. Never! It is only that I would feel better about myself were I able to do something of value. I do not feel that I accomplish anything here that Jane is not completely and infinitely more qualified to do. I seek to be useful and fill my time with a worthwhile pursuit."

  Uncle leaned back and lifted his teacup again. "I see. You feel the need to prove your worth, and you consider that the best way to do so is to work.” Rotating the now empty cup in his hands, he said, “I will not have it said that a niece of mine had to seek employment. There are no options for a gently born lady that will not affect her prospects of marrying well.”

  Did Uncle believe, like Mother, that she was only useful as a wife? Her cheeks heated.

  Covering her hand with his own, he said, “I know it is not what you wish to hear. I see it clearly on your face, Lizzy dear. However, you must consider what is expected of the daughter of a gentleman. You have certain advantages that my children will never have, being tainted by trade as they are, and I will not allow you to disregard them and ruin your chances at making a splendid match.” He spoke sincerely, with no hint of the sarcasm she had when she thought of the injustices imposed upon them by the socially elite. Who were they to determine what would make her happy or to consider her uncle anything less than the gentleman she knew him to be?

  She wanted to lash out at someone, but Uncle Gardiner’s kind face did not allow him to be the victim. “I only need work to keep me busy until I feel whole again.”

  He patted her hand. "You do not seek to punish yourself for the loss of your father, do you?"

  "No.” Now, that was not completely true. She did punish herself. Only her guilt laid in what she had lost her mother and sisters. “I will not deny that I still miss him. Most likely I always will… but I know that he is gone and I no longer look for him.” Mr. Darcy was right. Letting go was bitter and sweet; a relief and a misery.

  “Yes, Lizzy?” Uncle encouraged her. “You were saying?”

  Tugging her thoughts away from Mr. Darcy, she said, “It is not just Father. I feel as if my entire family is lost to me now. I will be the first to admit that I do not know entirely what I seek. I only know that I do not think that I can find it here." Tears burned her eyes. She felt so lonely at that moment. She even longed for her mother.

  Uncle sighed again. "I will do my best to arrange something— a suitable employment we can keep amongst ourselves, my dear. I will discuss it with Madeline, and we will do our best. All we want is for you to be happy. It is what your father wanted too."

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and whispered, "Thank you." She did not feel that Uncle understood her completely. She hardly understood. How could she possibly explain the empty want for something she could not express?

  "You ought to eat, dear. You will need your strength." Uncle emphasized his point by requesting more tea to be brought in and placing a roll of bread on her plate.

  She bit into the roll, not bothering to butter it or smother it with the fruit preserves he pushed in front of her.

  He contemplated her as she chewed. Taking his spectacles off and placing them on top of the newspaper, he crossed his arms and tucked his chin into his chest. "Since we have arrived, I have neglected making any calls out of my concern for Emma. Her fever has passed, and I think it is high time I remedied that situation." Slapping his hands against the top of the table, he rose. "Yes, I think I know precisely where I must go today."

  His manners changed drastically from one of deep concern to eager excitement.

  "Where do you plan to go?" Elizabeth asked.

  Aunt came into the breakfast room just as he neared the door. He grasped her by the arms and kissed her on the cheek. "Never you mind, Lizzy. I will tell you when I return if anything comes of it." With a wink at Aunt and a farewell nod to Elizabeth, he went upstairs to ready himself for wherever it was he had decided to go.

  Aunt looked at Elizabeth. "What was that about?"

  "He said he needed to start making some calls now that Emma has improved.” She took another bite of bread.

  Clapping her hands together and smiling at Elizabeth, Aunt said, “I think I know where he is going! Oh, I do think that you and Mr. Darcy would make a lovely match. And if he can arrange for Jane to meet Mr. Bingley, all of your troubles will soon be resolved.”

  The bite Elizabeth swallowed grew in her throat. Must marriage be the only solution to all of life’s problems? She pushed her plate away, unable to eat any more. If a gentleman such as Mr. Darcy were to take notice of her, it must be on his terms. Anything else would be forced and humiliating.

  Darcy dearly wanted to laugh at the comedy playing out before him. For the past week and a half, Miss Bingley had been forced to serve as a temporary companion to Lady Rutledge after her aunt had chased two young ladies away. Each had lasted only a day. Darcy wished he could have witnessed it, but had only returned to London the evening before.

  "I do not understand it, Darcy," said Bingley, tugging his fingers through his hair which, no doubt, had been in a constant state of disarray since his return to London ten days before. "The latest young lady I sent was extremely qualified. Her list of accomplishments was so impressive as to compare to the most elite amongst the ton. And she assured me that she was accustomed to temperamental individuals."

  Miss Bingley snorted. "Temperamental?! Aunt Lavinia is beyond temperamental, Charles. I swear that if you do not find a replacement, my hair will be as white as hers by the end of the week. She is incorrigible."

  Darcy turned toward the window, so they would not see him smile at their predicament. The very qualities he admired in Lady Rutledge were the same which often put her at odds with her socially sensitive niece. She spoke what was on her mind with an honest bluntness he could appreciate. She spoke as freely as he wished to— her fortune, status, and age giving her the freedom to do what she very well pleased. Not that she did not enjoy pushing the boundaries of propriety to the limits.

  "Darcy, have you had any success in finding a qualified young lady to help keep our aunt out of mischief?" Bingley asked, not a little desperate.

  "Qualified or not, we would hire a chambermaid at this point. Of what use are accomplishments if nobody will stay with her?" added Miss Bingley. "I cannot suffer through another day. Did you know that she put salt in my tea only this morning?"

  Darcy suffered to keep a straight face. "An honest mistake. Anyone could mistake salt for sugar." He did not for a moment believe that it had been a mistake, but he felt the need to defend Lady Rutledge.

  "Mistake, my eye!" complained Miss Bingley, more to herself than to anyone in particular.

  The door to Darcy's parlor opened, and the butler announced the arrival of a visitor. "A Mr. Edward Gardiner is here to see you, sir. Shall I see him in or tell him that you are out?"

  Bingley made to stand.

  Darcy reached his hand out. "Do not leave just yet." To the butler, he said, "Please see Mr. Gardiner in."

  Bingley looked questioningly at Darcy, but he settled back into his chair. Miss Bingley preened and rearranged her skirts to better effect, no doubt content that they had not been dismissed so easily.

  Mr. Gardiner smiled when he saw Darcy and smiled even deeper when Bingley stood to bow. The rotund gentleman looked as if he would burst while Darcy made introductions.

  "Excuse me for asking such a plain question, but is it possible that you are the nephew of Sir Alistair Rutledge? An old partner of mine did business with him many years ago."

  Bingley's eyes widened. He knew how his uncle had gained his fortune, and he was in no hurry to acknowledge it. The accusations of piracy were overlooked because of the great favors Sir Alistair did for the crown, but Darcy could hardly blame Bingley for wanting to concea
l his ancestor’s colorful past.

  "I am his nephew. Did you know my uncle Rutledge?" he asked hesitantly.

  "Only of him. Please do not concern yourself on my account, Mr. Bingley. My partner only had the kindest of things to say about your uncle. He held him in high regard. I did see Lady Rutledge once before, and I must say that the family resemblance is striking." He looked at Miss Bingley.

  She rolled her eyes. Darcy was uncertain if Mr. Gardiner saw her unladylike reaction.

  Mr. Gardiner added, with a twinkle in his eye, "I have seen very few ladies since then to equal her beauty."

  He had seen it.

  Smiling at Mr. Gardiner in her sweetest manner, Miss Bingley said, "How delightful. You have a discerning eye, Mr. Gardiner."

  "Really, it is fortuitous that you should be here today, for I have come seeking help," said Mr. Gardiner. "Due to circumstances beyond their control, two of my nieces are staying with my family. They are new to London and have few friends with whom to associate. They are gentry, and I aim to take special care to introduce them to the best people."

  Darcy watched the Bingleys sit up in their seats simultaneously, their interest apparent.

  “Please tell us about your nieces, Mr. Gardiner. Perhaps I shall decide to befriend them,” said Miss Bingley, as sweet as honey.

  "They are from Hertfordshire. Their father passed away nearly six months ago, and we decided that it was time for them to visit us in town to enjoy a London Season."

  Good for Mr. Gardiner for leaving out their unfavorable circumstances. Darcy had yet to determine Mrs. Bennet’s address so that he might continue to send baskets of provisions, but he would not let Mr. Gardiner leave without ensuring that all of her needs were seen to.

  Bingley sat so close to the edge of his chair, he nearly toppled off. “You are the uncle to the Miss Bennets of Longbourn? I admit that not meeting Miss Bennet is my greatest regret in quitting Netherfield Park.”

  “I had heard that you let the estate,” acknowledged Mr. Gardiner.