Rescuing Elizabeth Bennet: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Beauford, Kate

  Rescuing Elizabeth Bennet

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Kate Beauford

  Copyright © 2021 by Kate Beauford

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  1

  “A ball will be just the thing,” said Mrs Bennet. She beamed at her new neighbour. “Oh, Mr Bingley, you will forever endear yourself to the neighbourhood with a ball.”

  “I am glad it meets your approval, ma’am,” said Bingley with a cheerful smile. “And I am sure your lovely daughters will delight us all with their dancing.”

  “Oh, my girls are the finest dancers you will ever meet, sir. Finer than any you will find in Mayfair, I assure you, even if others do not agree.” Mrs Bennet cut a poisonous glance at Bingley’s friend, Mr Darcy, who stood apart from everyone, staring silently out the window.

  Mrs Bennet’s second daughter, Elizabeth, blushed. What must Mr Darcy think of her mother’s behaviour? He could not think any less of the Bennet family than he already did, and yet Mrs Bennet seemed determined to sink them lower in his opinion every time she saw him. It was as though she took it as a challenge.

  Mrs Bennet pursed her lips as she also noticed Darcy’s studious attempts to avoid conversation, but a tiny self-satisfied smile curved her lips as though she felt she had won the upper hand. She tossed her head and turned her attention back to Bingley. “And none of my girls dance so well as Jane,” she declared, smiling proudly at her eldest daughter, who could only smile even as she blushed with embarrassment. “You must make haste if you are to secure a dance, sir. My girls will be in much demand, especially with the officers present.”

  “Yes, I understand your daughters are rather fond of the officers,” said Miss Bingley, Mr Bingley’s far less pleasant sister. “I hear your youngest daughters have been to town to see them every day since they have arrived and remain with them until late.” A poisonous smile touched her lips. “How delightful for the officers to receive such a welcome.”

  “Denny and Saunders have already claimed the first dances with Kitty and me,” announced Lydia, the youngest Bennet girl. “And I shall eat my best bonnet if we sit down all evening. Poor Mary will be all alone as usual.”

  The middle Bennet girl turned in her chair and was about to make a scathing yet pious remark about what she thought of balls when Miss Bingley spoke again.

  “I am sure Miss Eliza’s dances have all been claimed by Mr Wickham. I understand you are delighted with him, are you not? He is quite a favourite of yours.”

  Elizabeth had been looking at Darcy, who had turned his head slightly to observe her when Miss Bingley had begun speaking. He had a curious habit of looking at her a great deal, which always puzzled Elizabeth, considering he did not like her. Elizabeth could only assume he searched for faults in her person. When Miss Bingley mentioned Wickham, he tensed, his jaw clenched, and turned back to the window. Elizabeth could only suppose he was ashamed to hear the other man’s name.

  As well he might. Mr Wickham told Elizabeth how he and Darcy had been boyhood friends, Wickham being the son of old Mr Darcy’s steward. But when Darcy’s father grew partial to the other man and wished him to have a living when it became available, Darcy had refused to honour his father’s wishes after he died, leaving poor Mr Wickham alone and friendless to make his own way in the world.

  “Mr Wickham is a favourite with everyone he meets,” said Elizabeth. She raised her voice for Darcy’s benefit. “I cannot see how it could be otherwise, considering his pleasant, amiable manner. He deserves to have friends who see his worth.”

  “You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s affairs,” said Darcy. He did not turn around, but Elizabeth could not miss the bite in his voice.

  “I am sure that might surprise anyone who does not care for him,” she said. “One will always take an interest in someone who has experienced misfortune and yet has the good nature to rise above it.”

  Darcy turned slowly to regard her. “Misfortune?” he said with cold disbelief. “Yes, I am sure they have been great indeed.”

  Bingley glanced uneasily between Darcy and Elizabeth, then laughed. “You will have to forgive us, Mrs Bennet. We are all rather tired and out of sorts with all the preparations for the ball. Perhaps Darcy and Miss Elizabeth might defer their disagreement until another time.”

  “That is no hardship for me,” said Elizabeth. She deliberately turned in her chair, so she faced away from Darcy.

  “Oh, yes, all the preparations,” said Miss Bingley. She heaved the tragic sigh of one who had known great suffering. “It is most tiresome. The ballroom was not at all in a condition to host a ball, so we have been forced to hire workers to mend marks on the floor and some of the mouldings, set up tables for supper, that sort of thing. It was almost impossible to find anyone who would do. Everything is so much harder in the country.”

  “Oh, do not talk to me about the hardships of hosting,” cried Mrs Bennet. “My dinners are famous throughout the county — you still owe us a dinner, Mr Bingley. You see, I have not forgotten — but I trust I always rise to the occasion. But Miss Bingley, if you wished for recommendations, you should have spoken to me. I am the very person who could have recommended suitable workers.”

  Miss Bingley gave her a thin-lipped smile and arched an elegant eyebrow as if offended that a woman of Mrs Bennet’s standing thought she could advise her.

  “Thank you, ma’am, but it is all in hand. I found suitable men myself, and I am sure they are doing as fine a job as anyone you could tell us about.”

  “Such a fine job they do not even know which room they are in half the time,” said Darcy tersely. “More than once, I have come upon one of them in the library or the billiards room or some other place they should not be, and I have to remind them of the way to the ballroom.”

  “I think Mr Darcy forgets not everyone is as accustomed to a house as large as this. It is easy for someone to lose their way.” Elizabeth turned to look at him again. As she expected, he had half-turned to look at her. “If you recall, sir, I made a similar error on my first night here when I came to stay with Jane. I searched for the drawing-room and came upon you playing billiards.”

  “Of course I recall it,” said Darcy coolly.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Then I would hate to think what you said of me afterwards if losing one’s way is such a grievous error in your eyes.”

  “I did not think the less of you at all,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Elizabeth was taken aback. She had not expected a response that almost
bordered on gallantry. Perhaps he was merely taking Bingley’s request that they not argue to heart. And perhaps she should do likewise. It would not do for Darcy to behave with more courtesy than she did.

  “And there is such noise all day, not to mention dust everywhere,” said Miss Bingley. Her eyes cut between Elizabeth and Darcy, narrow with suspicion. Elizabeth suppressed a smile. Miss Bingley was so determined to become Mrs Darcy that she saw any woman Darcy interacted with as a threat. There was no chance Darcy would ever seriously think of Elizabeth, not when he had already dismissed her as tolerable but not handsome enough for him on the very first night they met. But it was rather flattering to be considered a rival for such a man’s affections, even if Elizabeth herself would not have considered him even if he were the last man on earth.

  “It will all be done soon, Caroline. And the outcome will be worth it.”

  Just as Bingley spoke, the door to the drawing-room opened suddenly, and a slight man with a plain face walked into the room. He froze with his hand still on the handle when he saw the gathering there and quickly backed out of the room with a mumbled apology.

  “Do you see?” exclaimed Miss Bingley in a tone of high ill-usage. “It is impossible to enjoy the comfort and privacy of one’s home. It seems we are always to be invaded.”

  Her eyes landed on Elizabeth and Jane at this last sentence. Fortunately, Jane and Bingley were leaning towards one another in quiet conversation, so Jane could not understand her meaning and be hurt by it. And Elizabeth simply did not take Miss Bingley seriously enough to care about what she might say, though she found it hard to hide a grin. She and Jane had stayed a week at Netherfield Park when Jane had fallen ill after being invited to dine with Miss Bingley and her other sister, Mrs Hurst. When the Bennets had received word of Jane’s illness, Elizabeth had walked the three miles on foot to see to her and had been invited to stay to care for her. Though Mr Bingley had been delighted to have them under his roof, it had been clear that his sisters and his friend did not share his enthusiasm. The feeling had been mutual. Elizabeth could not wait to return home.

  “But there is no harm in improving a house,” said Mrs Bennet. She smiled smugly as she looked at Jane and Bingley, who still spoke quietly together. “After all, who knows for what other occasion these improvements might be needed.”

  Elizabeth cringed at her mother’s blatancy. Across the room, Darcy drew a deep sigh and turned back to the window while Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst exchanged looks with raised eyebrows.

  “Jane,” called Mrs Bennet. “Has your first dance been claimed yet? I know Mr Collins has claimed Lizzy’s, but—“

  “Mr Collins?” Darcy turned back with a frown.

  “Our cousin. He will inherit Longbourn after my husband passes, and he has shown a great interest in Lizzy.” Mrs Bennet beamed. “I think we shall see quite a number of weddings in our family in the very near future.”

  Darcy gave Elizabeth a long, thoughtful look. No doubt he was surprised anyone might want to marry her. Elizabeth could not stand her mother’s embarrassing behaviour a moment longer. She looked at the silver clock on the mantelpiece.

  “Mama, the time,” she said. They had long outstayed the customary fifteen minutes.

  “Oh, what of it?” Mrs Bennet began.

  “Yes, Mama, Kitty and I wish to go into town to meet the officers,” said Lydia. “If we hurry, we might catch Saunders while he is dressing—“

  Elizabeth rose to her feet, unable to endure her family’s exposure a moment longer. The rest of the room rose as well, so it was impossible for her mother to ignore it. She sighed begrudgingly and followed her daughters to the door.

  2

  Bingley stepped forward to hand the girls into their carriage. Elizabeth hung back, and when it was her turn, Darcy surprised her by stepping forward himself.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he said gravely. He held out his hand. Elizabeth looked at it for a long moment, then up at Darcy. She gave him a smile that looked more apologetic than she felt.

  “I think I will walk,” she said.

  “Walk? Nonsense,” called her mother from inside the carriage. “You will travel in the carriage with your sisters and me.”

  Elizabeth stepped back.

  “I beg your pardon, Mama, but I have a slight headache. A walk in the fresh air will be good for me.”

  She turned to Darcy and dropped a slight curtsey. He closed his hand and pulled it back as he gave her a bow. Before her mother could argue with her again, Elizabeth turned and walked towards the woods.

  As she turned a corner near the stables, she almost collided with a tall man who leaned against a closed wagon, smoking a pipe. He wore plain workman’s clothes, and his hair was slightly longer than was fashionable. A kerchief was tied under his neck. He straightened up with a lazy grace and caught her arm to steady her just as another man walked around the corner carrying wood and a hammer.

  “Forgive me,” said Elizabeth as she took a hasty step back.

  The tall man grinned at her.

  “You’re forgiven,” he said in an almost flirtatious tone. Elizabeth merely raised an eyebrow but declined to respond. She inclined her head and walked away.

  Elizabeth did not aim directly for home as she had initially intended. She was still too mortified by her mother’s behaviour to wish to encounter her there. Besides, all that awaited her at home was Mr Collins, who would make it his business to sit beside her and talk with her as much as he could about Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Rosings Park. Or, and she was not sure if this was better or worse, he would wish to read improving sermons to her about the proper conduct of young ladies, which Elizabeth suspected did not include a tendency to walk alone along country lanes and through wooded hills. No, Mr Collins could save his sermons for someone else.

  Who knew how much Mrs Bennet had injured their family’s image with her clear hints that morning? Elizabeth was well aware Darcy thought little of her family, but with her mother so willing to outdo herself, did she never stop to think about how she might hurt Jane’s chances? Mr Bingley was a pleasant man, and Elizabeth would be thrilled to have him for a brother, but it was clear that he deferred to his friend’s judgment. If Darcy expressed a belief that the Bennets would be a poor alliance, who was to say Mr Bingley would not listen to him? Mrs Bennet might only succeed in driving her daughter’s suitor away if she were not careful.

  Of course, it would be a trial for Jane to marry a man who had two sisters and a friend like Mr Darcy to contend with, and Elizabeth could only hope Bingley would shield his wife from the worst aspects of their characters. Darcy had proven himself to be the most unpleasant and proud man Elizabeth had ever met, not to mention completely lacking in integrity.

  Elizabeth had taken a dislike to Darcy from almost the first moment she met him, and her dislike had been confirmed when George Wickham told her the sorry story of how Darcy had taken the church living that was to be his and given it to another man instead. It was so in keeping with what she knew of Darcy’s character that she believed it at once. Never would Elizabeth understand how a man like Bingley could choose such an unworthy friend. It must be as Wickham said; Darcy had the skill of making himself pleasant and agreeable to those he believed worth the effort. Clearly, Bingley fell in one category while people like Elizabeth and Wickham were in the other. What a blessing it had been to return to Longbourn after her stay at Netherfield and escape his strange behaviour; the conversations and arguments, the way he asked her to dance one evening though he disliked dancing so much in general, how he attended to her conversations with others, and how he had then suddenly changed and ignored her instead, sitting in rooms with her for a full hour at a time without saying a word. Elizabeth decided she preferred it when he ignored her.

  Elizabeth did not have an aim in mind as she strolled the country lanes between Netherfield and Longbourn, enjoying the crisp smell of wood smoke combined with fresh country air, a pleasant coolness on the breeze. Though it was November,
autumn still lingered, and it was a far more pleasant thing to walk about than return home to be mortified by her mother’s insistence that Jane would certainly be married before the year ended. It was not until the sun had disappeared and the dark drew in that Elizabeth knew she should think about returning. She had no fear of being out alone in the dark, knowing the woods as well as she did, but her mother would raise a fuss if she knew Elizabeth had been out until now.

  Having wandered so far, Elizabeth was obliged to turn back to walk near Netherfield Park before turning towards home. The moon rose higher in the sky, and though it was not high enough to light her way through the woods, she knew it would only grow brighter the closer she got to Longbourn. Occasionally, a twig snapped, causing Elizabeth to stop and listen until she laughed and reminded herself it was only an animal. There were woods in Hertfordshire that were haunts for robbers and cutthroats, but the area around Longbourn had never been known for them.

  Still, Elizabeth shuddered and picked up her steps, her boots picking over the hardening ground where frost already gathered. It would be a chilly night. She looked forward to a hot brick in her bed when she settled down with her book. Maggie would have the fire prepared by now as well. Her bedroom would blaze with heat, and she would retire there as soon as she could after dinner to avoid her cousin or her mother, who would insist she sit beside him and entertain him.

  A cry rending through the night air made Elizabeth freeze, her hand pressed to her chest where her heart pounded. She paused and listened as a return cry tore through the air. She laughed at her foolishness as she walked on, though a small part of her whispered that she had never heard a bird or an animal in these woods make such a sound, and she had walked in them for almost twenty years. It was just the dark that was making her jump at shadows. She would be home soon, and then she could — were those voices coming from the trees?