Ruined Forever

by D. L. Carter

  “You must promise me, Darcy, that you will purge guilt from your life.”

  “Guilt, my dear Anne?”

  “Yes, guilt. Do not think I have not said the same to our aunt and uncle. Already they worry that they should have visited more often. Demanded my mother bring me to see a different physician. All these things weigh on them, and on you, I am certain. I swear to you all, that you are not the sinners here. You are not guilty of any crime. My mother alone did this to me and to her all punishment will be directed in the hereafter.”

  She lay back on the pillows panting, as if the statement exhausted her.

  “Anne? I am so sorry for this all.”

  “No,” she waved her hand. “I know you as well as can be expected for spending a few hours together once a year. Put this guilt away.”

  “But…”

  “I did not wish to marry, Darcy. Not you. Not anyone. It was my mother’s will. The more she pushed the less I cooperated but this is more extreme than I intended in my objections.”

  “Extreme. Yes. No one thought your mother would harm you.”

  “Let us not dwell on what cannot be changed. I know that I am not long for this world and refuse to leave it unless I know that you will go on to live a happy life. I fear that you would retreat to your eyrie and dwell there alone in silence, in unspoken penance for your imagined failing of me.”

  “Will you accept my promise?”

  “No. I want assurance. I do not have much time, nor much strength. I want to know my family is happy. I have placed an obligation on our aunt and uncle Matlock telling them to be happy. My estate, my inheritance from my father is to go to our dearest cousin Richard. There. One weight off your mind. You shall not be required to endure the responsibility of Rosings and Richard shall come home from the wars a wealthy man. Now, how shall we settle you?”

  For the first time during that interview Darcy laughed. “Well now. You have the upper hand it seems. Have you a suggestion?”

  “Do you know someone you might love? You have a greater knowledge of the ton and its ladies. Has any woman touched your heart?”

  “Possibly,” said Darcy, still smiling.

  “Only possibly?” Anne tilted her head and studied his face. “Oh, Darcy, you teasing man, you have met someone! This is excellent news. I know my foolish mother will declare that since you have not married me you shall marry no other but we shall thwart her, shall we not? Tell me you shall marry for love. I insist upon it.”

  “Very well. There is a lady I love, but she will not have me.”

  “That is even better news. She will teach you to be humble. I am delighted. Now, how shall we change her mind?”

  “If you would aid me, dearest cousin, I believe she can be persuaded.”

  “I am at your disposal, Darcy, but you must bring her to me. I fear I shall not travel from this chamber again in this life.”

  ***

  Within two days of her arrival in London, Elizabeth was willing to acknowledge Bingley’s suggestion she should travel back with her aunt and uncle had been a good idea. If she had remained at Longbourn and been forced to endure her mother’s transports of delights about the wedding and her speculation of the wealthy men Bingley would provide for her other daughters, she feared for her sanity.

  Instead, Elizabeth was spending the time, wherein Mrs. Bennet would express the most extreme of her joy, with her sensible and intelligent relatives. The Gardiners provided excellent entertainment and distraction for Elizabeth. Trips to the best of the bookshops were planned. A day at the Royal Gallery was hinted at, and best of all; she had Aunt Gardiner’s advice on the creation of her new wardrobe.

  “I would be very proud if I can send you home in good style,” said Aunt Gardiner. “Your father’s instructions were very clear, for a man who claims no interest in lace, and I must say I agree with him entirely. While I have always had good opinion of your looks, Lizzy, the pastels that so flatter your sister Jane’s looks do you no justice at all.”

  “Now Aunt, not everyone is born to be handsome,” said Elizabeth, with a laugh.

  “Nonsense, Lizzy. You are both pretty in your own way and I think you will hold your looks longer. Jane, dear girl that she is, will find her looks fade a little with the years, but your bone structure is very good. Strong and with character. We shall only make the most of it.”

  “Thank you, aunt.”

  “We go out tomorrow, to see my modiste. I am determined to see you in strong greens to flatter your hair, and a russet silk with gold trim to bring out your eyes. The gentlemen will have no choice but to admire you.”

  Elizabeth blushed.

  “Oh, come now, Elizabeth. Your mother told me of her disappointment and how she is convinced you shall never marry, but we shall prove her wrong, shall we not?”

  “That is, I think, not my father’s intention when he suggested a change in costume.”

  “No? Perhaps not. But then again, perhaps so. Whatever his intent, we should enjoy ourselves, should we not?”

  Elizabeth laughed and nodded.

  “Since I intend that we shall go to the theater and one or two events while you are here, a ball gown and evening gown should be our earliest concern.”

  And from that position Madeline Gardiner would not be dissuaded.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  On the fourth day of her visit Elizabeth was in the nursery playing with her nieces when the smallest Gardiner boy cried out from the window-seat.

  “Oh, look, Lizzy. Such a fine carriage has just stopped at our door. And it has a picture on the door!”

  Elizabeth barely turned her head. “If it has a heraldic shield on the door it can hardly be calling upon us. Your father has no acquaintance amongst the nobility!”

  “Yes. Yes, it is. A tall fellow in a colored jacket is coming up the stairs. Oh, do come and look, cousin Lizzy. Tell me the words!”

  A firm knock sounded through the house. Elizabeth rose quickly, more than astonished and crossed to the window in company with the children and nursery maid.

  From this angle it was difficult to make out the details of the heraldry. Elizabeth let out a breath she was holding. Thank God, it was not Lady Catherine - a thought that had briefly clutched at her heart and set her hands to trembling. No. It was unknown to her. Down on the front steps the footman handed over a calling card to the Gardiner’s housekeeper and waited. A few moments later rapid footsteps sounded through the house and a maid appeared at the nursery door.

  The missus says you must come. 'Tis the Countess of Matlock!”

  Sure enough, the footman had returned to the elegant carriage and was aiding two women to disembark.

  Elizabeth could not tell who was who, not that she could recognize the Countess of Matlock, but even so, what was the Countess doing here, in Cheapside? And from where did she know the title?

  “You must come, miss,” insisted the maid, clutching at Elizabeth’s arm.

  “Stay with the children. They are overexcited and will give their nursery maid the grip, if not calmed,” said Elizabeth, running her hand over her hair. Then she hurried downstairs checking her skirt for fingerprints and dust - thankfully absent - and wishing she had already received her new fashionable costumes.

  She arrived in the front parlor a few steps ahead of the housekeeper and took up position beside her startled and confused aunt.

  “Do you know these people, Lizzy?” hissed Aunt Madeline.

  “They are people I have never met in the whole course of my life,” said Elizabeth, and then it was time to curtsy and smile.

  The housekeeper was blushing and flustered but managed to announce creditably: “Her ladyship, Lady Christabel Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock and Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

  “Darcy,” repeated Elizabeth, then blushed and inclined her head as she curtsied.

  That was where she had heard of the Matlocks.

  They were Mr. Darcy’s most significant connections!

  “Ah,” said
Aunt Madeline, who also recognized the name, and stepped forward to offer the visitors the best seats.

  “May I offer you tea?” inquired Aunt Madeline when the ladies were settled.

  “Actually, if you would be so kind,” said the Countess, “I am informed that your husband is involved in the import of coffee. Might I sample your home blend?” The woman, a dignified, fashionable lady of middle years and very good looks, smiled at Mrs. Gardiner. “I must admit I have become somewhat dependent upon my morning coffee. Nothing will do that I shall have it when I break my fast. But I am always looking for a better brew. My friends tell me this house or this other warehouse has the best, but some just taste bitter to me. When I visit some friends it tastes so very good and others, I must tell you, are barely palatable. I am certain your husband brings home the best for his own use and would like to try it.”

  “He does, I assure you,” said aunt Madeline. “However, I should tell you that I have a maid whose only duty in the morning is the preparation of coffee. She has a talent for it that cannot be expressed. One moment while I inform the maids.” Then she shot a glance toward the two young women seated and waiting politely. “But for younger ladies I think tea would do unless they have a particular taste for coffee.”

  Both young women denied a taste for coffee, so tea and a selection of refreshments were sent for. That left them in need of conversation to fill the void.

  It was the Countess who broke the silence.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. My nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, brought your name to my attention and requested that I pay a call.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” echoed Aunt Madeline and Elizabeth.

  “My brother,” added a blushing Georgiana.

  “Whyever for?” demanded Elizabeth then blushed herself and added. “I do not have that sort of acquaintances with Mr. Darcy that would require that acknowledgment from his family.”

  That comment only served to amuse the Countess.

  “Oh, my nephew is given to the oddest starts but there is no telling who he is going to take up and develop a friendship with. Mr. Bingley is one such. A charming, amenable man, but, you must admit, the polar opposite of Darcy when the mood is on him.”

  “I admit my first impression of Mr. Darcy was that he was a dour and reserved man,” said Elizabeth. “Very proud and above his company, but he improved upon better acquaintance.”

  “Lizzy!” scolded her aunt. “He is, perhaps, a little proud but it is deserved. I would judge him to be shy rather than dour. I have only met him twice but admire him.”

  “He is only silent amongst strangers,” added Georgiana. “Amongst his good friends he is charming and very loyal.”

  “Oh, yes, very loyal. I have reason to thank him…” Elizabeth stuttered to a halt and turned her gaze to the floor.

  “I hope you will forgive him,” said the Countess, “but Darcy confided to me the events this last winter in Hertfordshire. He knows my opinion of the gossips of the ton and the damage they do. I am so angry at all those gossips in your home village. What you suffered is entirely unjust. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Gardiner? There are some who take too much joy in destroying a young woman’s reputation. One wants so much to do no more but shake them!”

  “I do agree. Our Lizzy, Elizabeth, was entirely innocent and I am so proud of her father and family for standing with her and facing down the neighborhood.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at that comment but let it pass.

  “And Darcy,” continued the Countess. “I am so proud of him for intervening when no one would have criticized him if he had stayed silent.”

  “Yes, he hates injustice and will go to any length to see matters put to rights,” said Georgiana, then shrank back against her chair as if astonished she had spoken.

  “You are a very devoted sister,” said Elizabeth with a smile for the younger girl.

  “He deserves all the praise I give him,” said Georgiana.

  The refreshments arrived at that point and Aunt Madeline was occupied first in preparing coffee for the Countess. They all waited impatiently for that lady’s verdict. A brilliant smile overspread the Countess's face after the first sip.

  “This is excellent,” she cried. “Truly it is. I should like very much if you would give me the direction of your husband’s warehouse so I might direct my business to him.”

  “Certainly, ma’am,” said Aunt Madeline. “And if I may, without risk to keeping one of my best servants, send my coffee maid across to consult with your chef and his assistants to see if she can instruct them in the preparation of the brew?”

  “Oh, I would be so grateful.”

  The Countess and Aunt Madeline fell to discussing the importance of keeping good and talented servants leaving Elizabeth and Miss Darcy to a quieter conversation.

  “My brother has spoken highly of you,” said Miss Darcy in her very soft voice.

  “And of you,” said Elizabeth. “Although the majority of what I have heard of you, Miss Darcy comes from your friend, Miss Bingley.”

  The young girl rolled her eyes before catching herself and apologizing.

  “Oh, please,” she said, “do not judge me by Miss Bingley’s reports. Why, I do not recognize myself the way she praises me.”

  “Then I shall not,” said Elizabeth. “I shall have to form my own opinion as I sketch your character.”

  “As to that,” Miss Darcy glanced past Elizabeth toward her aunt. “I, that is, we would like…” she stuttered to a halt, blushing. “Aunt Christabel?”

  The Countess turned, smiling. “Yes, my dear?”

  “We were talking about Wednesday?”

  The Countess studied her niece intently then nodded. “Yes, indeed. Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, my niece, and I would like to invite you to take tea with us, next Wednesday if it is agreeable. And, if you can entice the new Mrs. Bingley to accompany you, that would be welcome as well.”

  “That is very kind of you,” said Elizabeth. “An unexpected but true honor. Only, forgive me, please. Might I inquire as to why?”

  “Lizzy,” cried Aunt Madeline, shocked.

  “No. No, my dear Mrs. Gardiner, this is exactly what I expected. My nephew could not say enough about Miss Bennet’s courage and spirit. She should be encouraged to speak her mind. And the question is quite valid given the disparity of our station in life.”

  “As you say, ma’am,” said Elizabeth.

  “There are two reasons, or,” the Countess glanced toward a fascinated Miss Darcy. “Perhaps three. First, I wish you to know that my sister-in-law, Lady Catherine de Bourgh has been punished for involving herself in your situation.”

  “Punished?” repeated Elizabeth.

  “Yes, my husband has taken legal action to remove some of her authority. She will no longer appoint posturing sycophants to pretend to be clergymen to the living of Hunsford.”

  “I am certain the people of Hunsford village will be grateful,” said Aunt Madeline.

  “I am as well. Second, my nephew has asked we do some small thing to help erase the last vestiges of damage caused by the recent unpleasantness. I flatter myself, and I do that but rarely, but when you return home and it becomes known that you have been in company with a Countess your standing in the community will improve.”

  “I hope you know, Lady Christabel,” said Elizabeth. “I am not given to name dropping or self-aggrandizement by association.”

  “Lizzy,” said Aunt Madeline in a laughing, but scolding, voice. “I fear you may safely leave that to your mother.”

  “And I have met Mr. Bingley on a number of occasions,” said the Countess, “So it is only to be expected that I acknowledge his new wife. I know what is due to a bride, and her sister.”

  “And the third,” said Elizabeth. “Or have I lost count?”

  “It was my request,” said Miss Darcy, suddenly. “I should like to meet a woman that my brother has spoken of so highly. He has little but praise for your strength and
dignity during difficult times. I am not …” she blushed, “… the strongest and boldest of people but perhaps if I have a friend who is, I might learn. It would help me to have your example when I face the ton.”

  “I would be honored to be your friend, Miss Darcy.”

  ***

  “Good heavens,” said Aunt Madeline when their unexpected guests departed. “What an afternoon. You should have warned me, Lizzy. These sort of visitations must be prepared for.”

  “I had no expectation of such preferment, Aunt,” said Elizabeth. “I cannot account for it.”

  “Can you not, Lizzy?” Madeline Gardiner smiled softly. “I must say, my dear, the only way to account for it is to think that Mr. Darcy must be very fond of you.”

  And her calm, sensible niece burst into tears and threw herself into her aunt’s arms.

  It took a full half hour, several cups of tea and three soaked handkerchiefs to calm Elizabeth Bennet. It was eventually necessary for Madeline Gardiner to escort the girl to her chamber with a lavender sachet over her face and cooling cloths on her neck and wrists before sensibility returned.

  “Now let me see if I have all this clear,” said Aunt Madeline, counting points off on her fingers. “You like and admire Mr. Darcy.”

  “He is everything a young man should be. Kind. Intelligent. Handsome, if he can but manage it.”

  “And you like him.”

  Silence was her answer. Not content Aunt Madeline pressed the matter. “You don’t like him?”

  “I love him.” The tears flowed again.

  “Oh, my dear,” said her aunt, sadly. “Has he hurt you?”

  “No. I have nothing ill to accuse him of. He … he offered me his hand. You know it could never be.”

  Madeline stared at the sobbing woman, quite stunned.

  “Then I do not understand this distress. Do you imagine his aunt and sister would call on you, invite you to tea, if they disapproved of the union?”

  “But what of his cousin, Anne?”

  “Who,” demanded Madeline, coming to the end of her considerable patience, “is Anne?” The explanation rambled somewhat but finally Madeline understood.