Conceit & Concealment: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

by Abigail Reynolds

  With a rueful smile, Elizabeth said, “Very much the kind of thing I always said to her. At first I could not forget for a moment who she was, but as I saw what a struggle everything was for her and helped her through her fits of nerves, she began to seem more like a difficult younger sister whom I needed to manage. It feels so odd now when I see everyone bowing and behaving as if she is on a higher plane of existence than we mortals are.”

  “Fits of nerves? The queen?” Jane sounded horrified.

  “Do you not recall how easily frightened she was? She is an odd mixture of parts, half willful, half terrified, as anyone would be faced with the constant fear of discovery all these years.”

  “Still, to think you have been with the queen all this time! I want you to tell me everything that happened. All I know from the newspapers is that you slept in a hayloft, were arrested, and imprisoned on the Neptune.”

  Elizabeth settled back against the pillows. “I hardly know where to begin. Mr. Darcy told me the truth just minutes before he was arrested...”

  ***

  Darcy set a glass of brandy on the small table beside Bingley. He would have handed it to his friend if Bingley had not been so openly avoiding his gaze. Bingley had not looked him in the face since Darcy had found him outside the barricade and invited him inside. It had taken four invitations since Bingley refused the first three.

  Bingley might never forgive him for his harsh words, but for Elizabeth’s sake, Darcy would do his best to heal the breach. “Did you receive my letter when Elizabeth's sentence was commuted?”

  “Yes. But you need not pretend to any warmth towards me. I do not expect it, nor do I deserve it. If you want to tell Jane what I did, go ahead. Elizabeth is bound to mention it sooner or later in any case.”

  Darcy shook his head. “Elizabeth does not know you played any role in her arrest, and I see no reason to change that. But if she did, she would understand your desire to protect her sister.”

  Bingley tugged at his cravat as if he found it difficult to breathe. “You would not have done what I did.”

  “How can you say that when the fault was mine for becoming careless enough that you could guess what I was about? If I had not been so indiscreet, you would not have known anything to tell them about Elizabeth's whereabouts. Any blame should rest on my shoulders, not yours.”

  Bingley turned his face away. “You would not have told the French anything. Nor, I imagine, did Elizabeth give the French any information when she was arrested.”

  “In fact, she confessed to a great many crimes, some of which had never occurred. I learned later that some of the Loyalists, including my own brother, carried arsenic at all times in case they were arrested. They were aware the French could make them talk. Anyone is susceptible to the right pressure.”

  Bingley spun on his heel and crashed his fist against the window frame. “Do you not understand? I have to live with the knowledge that I betrayed her, and even if she is alive and free now, I imagine there were others arrested with her who were not so fortunate. Their deaths will always be on my conscience. Until two days ago, I thought nothing could possibly make me feel worse than I already did, then I learned Georgiana’s true identity. Our queen could have died because of my cowardice, and her blood would be on my hands. Do not try to make me feel better. I do not deserve it.” He seemed to choke over his words. “I do not deserve my wife's love.”

  Darcy had never seen his friend like this. “Stop it, Bingley! You are blaming yourself for things that never occurred. Only your wife can determine whether you deserve her, and I would guess she does think so.”

  Bingley's eyes flicked around the room wildly. “Not if she knew what I had done.”

  Darcy took a deep breath and made his own confession. “Everything that has happened to Elizabeth, every sorrow she has felt from leaving her family to being sentenced to hang, is my fault. If I had never involved myself with her, none of it would have occurred. I knew the risk. At that first dance, I knew my attentions to Elizabeth could put Georgiana at risk, and I did it anyway. And Elizabeth has forgiven me. That is why I know Jane would forgive you.”

  Bingley clenched his hands into fists. “Shall we see? Where are they?”

  Darcy hoped this was not a terrible mistake. “Upstairs. I will take you.”

  Bingley followed him to the room where Elizabeth now reclined in bed, still pale but sipping some wine, with her sister sitting beside her.

  “Mr. Bingley!” Elizabeth exclaimed as they entered. “How kind of you to join us.”

  Bingley said abruptly, “There is something I must tell you. Both of you. It was my fault you were arrested. It happened when French soldiers came to Netherfield to ask Jane if she knew your whereabouts. When she denied knowing anything, they were going to arrest her and put her to the question. I made a deal with them. In exchange for them leaving Jane alone, I told them Darcy knew how to find you. Your arrest, your imprisonment, the death of your friends – it is all my fault.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then Elizabeth gave a gurgle of laughter. “Not another one!”

  Bingley stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  “You and Darcy are just alike. He is always telling me everything is his fault. It was his fault I had to leave my family. His fault I was all alone. His fault my reputation was ruined. His fault I was held hostage. No doubt he also thinks it was his fault that Napoleon invaded us, and I am certain he would blame himself for the French Revolution, were it not for the fact that he was only six years of age at the time!”

  Darcy had never loved Elizabeth more than at that moment. “I was a very precocious six-year-old.”

  “You see, Mr. Bingley? Everything that happened to me was because in 1805 Napoleon tricked our fleet into haring off on a wild goose chase to the West Indies, leaving the Channel unprotected so he could invade us. Unless you caused that event, I am afraid it is not your fault. Your most important task was to protect Jane, and you did that.”

  But Jane Bingley's lower lip was trembling. “Is this why you have been so distant and unhappy all this time? Is it, Charles?”

  Bingley nodded. “I have hated myself, and I knew you would hate me, too.”

  Jane stood and advanced on him like an avenging angel. “I have been miserable these last two months. I thought you must have met another woman and regretted marrying me.”

  Bingley gaped at her. “Of course not! Marrying you was the best thing I ever did. I have not even looked at another woman since I met you.”

  His wife’s lips thinned. “Then you should have told me what happened!”

  Darcy elbowed Bingley. “I believe the correct response is that you were an idiot and you will try to do better next time.”

  Bingley looked from Jane to Darcy and then back again. “I am an idiot, and I do not deserve you. But I love you more than anything.”

  Just then a flaxen-haired whirlwind blew through the door. “Jane!” exclaimed Georgiana in delight. “I just heard you were here. Mr. Bingley, it is a pleasure to see you.”

  Jane froze, her mouth open to respond, and dropped into a low curtsy. Bingley’s bow was uncharacteristically awkward.

  “Oh, do stop it!” the girl exclaimed. “When we are in private, I pray you to dispense with all that nonsense.”

  Jane’s smile looked forced. Bingley's fingers were moving nervously.

  Georgiana linked her arm in Jane's. “Come, Jane, I wish to hear everything you have done since I last saw you in the stables. We can pretend we are back there and drinking that horrid tea, but we do have better tea this time.”

  Jane shot a terrified glance at her sister.

  Elizabeth said, “As you see, Georgiana has changed greatly from the nervous girl you first met.”

  Georgiana’s animation fled. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Not at all, dearest. You are simply more exuberant than you used to be. It is a good thing, though perhaps a bit surprising to someone who h
as not seen you in some time.”

  “Oh. I suppose so.” But Georgiana looked doubtful.

  “And, of course, Georgiana has also been deprived of companionship these last few days, with Lady Matlock single-handedly resurrecting the government and Mr. Darcy's younger brother attempting to create a royal guard from mismatched footmen. Naturally she is delighted to have a visitor.”

  Georgiana’s expression brightened. “Oh, yes, I must introduce you to Kit. He is very busy, as Elizabeth says, but one good thing about being queen is that he cannot be angry if I interrupt him.”

  “Too true,” said Elizabeth. “But despite all these royal pleasures, I think you are also missing being plain Georgiana Darcy.”

  The girl wrinkled her nose. “Is that horrid of me?”

  “Not at all,” said Elizabeth. “It is very understandable, and you will be a better queen for having an understanding of what it is like not to be treated as royalty. I only mention it so that Jane may understand she is having tea with plain Georgiana Darcy, not Her Majesty Queen Charlotte Augusta.”

  “Oh, yes, if you please!” said Georgiana. “No one ever says anything interesting to the queen.”

  Jane said valiantly, “I will be happy to visit with my old friend Georgiana. Lizzy, shall I return for a few minutes before I leave?”

  “I would like that very much.” But the circles under Elizabeth's eyes looked more pronounced now. Finding the energy for visitors had clearly cost her something.

  Jane cast one last panicked look back at her as she left with Georgiana.

  Darcy took the chair Jane had vacated and gestured Bingley to the other.

  “I do not know how you manage it!” exclaimed Bingley. “Talking to her that way, I mean. I could not possibly tease her now that I know who she is. I still cannot believe that Princess Charlotte herself lived under my roof all that time! Or how you managed to hide it for so long.”

  Darcy relaxed a little. “I hope you are not angry with me for keeping it secret.”

  Bingley shook his head vigorously. “Not in the slightest! I never want to know another secret. It is too dangerous. But no one in Meryton believes me when I say I did not know.” He sounded aggrieved.

  Darcy chuckled. “Poor Bingley! I will try to make it clear that I never took you into my confidence – or anyone else, for that matter.”

  “Please do! The main reason we came to London was to see Lizzy, of course, but we decamped from Netherfield in haste to escape all the neighbors who converged on us, wanting to be told every word Georgiana ever said. I would not be surprised if they have turned Netherfield into a shrine by the time we return. If only you could have seen them! Surreptitiously touching the furniture or the door handle she might have touched! One day of it was all I could tolerate.”

  Elizabeth had leaned back against the pillows and now said dreamily, “I can imagine. I have seen how differently people view me now, as if I were some sort of special being because of my connection to her. But I have been so many different people in the last few months that I have almost forgotten who Elizabeth Bennet was.”

  Darcy said warmly, “Elizabeth Bennet is Mrs. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I certainly am. Mr. Bingley, would you be offended if I close my eyes as you talk? My strength is not what it should be.”

  “Perhaps I should leave you to rest,” said Bingley.

  She shook her head. “Not yet, I pray you. I would very much like to hear news of my family. Jane did not seem to wish to speak of them.”

  “Oh.” Bingley suddenly appeared not to know what to do with his hands. “They are all well. Lydia is back at home now. She returned to Longbourn when her husband and the garrison were captured, but Mary elected to remain with her husband in captivity.”

  Seeing the question in Elizabeth's expression, Darcy asked, “Did she marry Captain Bessette then?”

  “A month ago. It surprised everyone when he began to court her, but she seemed very happy. I do not know what will happen to her now. Women who married French soldiers are not being treated kindly.”

  Darcy leaned back in his chair. “Hopefully that will change soon. It is not yet announced, but French soldiers who married English women will be given the option of swearing loyalty to the queen and remaining here instead of returning to France when the exchange of prisoners for the Englishmen conscripted by the French is arranged.”

  “Not Lydia's husband,” Bingley said with certainty. “He will return to his other wife in France, or I miss my guess. Mary's husband, though, might choose to remain. He is a decent fellow.”

  “Indeed he is,” said Darcy. “Captain Bessette will soon be taken to London to assist General Desmarais in his new task – convincing our French prisoners to cooperate with their captors. They are more likely to listen to their own officers, but there are few French officers whom we can trust to be honest and keep their word, and he is one of them. We hope to make the soldiers work on rebuilding some of what they have destroyed while we wait for Napoleon to reclaim them.”

  Bingley wrinkled his brow. “It is a good plan, to be sure, but I am surprised the French are still willing to work with you, Darcy.”

  Darcy kept his face expressionless. “Many of them are angry at me, of course. Some prefer to direct their anger against Wellington and the Englishmen who actually fought them. General Desmarais has known me for years and understands why I made the choices I did.” It had not actually been that simple, but Darcy doubted Bingley was prepared for the full explanation. Desmarais had not rejected him outright, but there were painful tensions between them. Colonel Hulot, who had attended many dinner parties with Darcy at Carlton House, refused to speak to him now. Darcy might be a hero to the Loyalists who had despised him, but it had come at a price.

  “I thank you for the news of my sisters, but something is not right at Longbourn. Is it Kitty or my parents?” Elizabeth sounded weary.

  Bingley glanced helplessly at Darcy, who nodded his permission. “It is nothing serious. Just that your parents have not responded to the news of your adventures as one might have hoped.”

  Elizabeth did not look surprised. “How so?”

  “Your mother was upset at first, especially with the loss of Lydia’s husband, but she has forgiven you everything since learning you had married Darcy. As for your father, he is...” Bingley hesitated, as if searching for a kind way to break the news.

  Elizabeth said flatly, “He is angry and speaks cuttingly to anyone who dares to disturb him.”

  “Well, yes. And since your family has also been deluged with callers, he is being disturbed quite often.”

  Darcy took Elizabeth's hand and spoke softly. “I am sorry, my love.”

  “It is what I expected,” said Elizabeth. “No one likes being left out of a secret of this magnitude, and not everyone takes it as gracefully as Mr. Bingley has. I suspect my father feels I treated him badly and robbed him of his chance to be a hero, while at the same time glad that he did not have to bestir himself to help.”

  Bingley sat up straighter. “Actually, his grievances are mostly with Darcy. Sorry, old fellow! His constant complaint is that Darcy took more care in asking him for a puppy than for his daughter.”

  “I would have been pleased to ask his blessing. As it was, I could only do the next best thing and ask Mr. Gardiner. I will write to Mr. Bennet with abject apologies for my presumption and tell him only my duty to the queen could override my desire to ask his permission,” said Darcy with distaste. “I had planned to speak to him anyway to extend an invitation. I have made arrangements for us to have a proper English wedding in four days – assuming you are well enough, my love. Bingley, I hope you and Jane will be able to attend.”

  Elizabeth opened her eyes. “You were able to get a license?”

  “Unfortunately not. No one at Doctors’ Common has the authority to issue them yet, so until they do, clergymen are being directed to honor the French paperwork.”

  “But the paperwork for our Frenc
h ceremony has my name as Elizabeth Gardiner. Correcting that was the whole purpose of the second ceremony.”

  Darcy smiled. “It turns out our paperwork was all in order after all. I called on my very good friend the Lord Mayor and explained our dilemma. He miraculously found the document we both signed before the wedding stating that Elizabeth Gardiner had been christened Elizabeth Bennet.”

  Elizabeth’s brows drew together. “But there was no such document.”

  “There is now, though your signature has faded completely away, and you will have to sign it again. He is going to help Frederica and Wellington, too, since they also married under false names.” Darcy shook his head, still astonished at the match. Wellington might be fifteen years older than Frederica, but he clearly made her happy again. She deserved that after all these years. Of course, Richard had claimed it was her only chance to marry a man who was as fascinated by the location of arms depots and troop movements as she was.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Molly always said her husband was a kind man. Dare I hope she is in better health than I am?”

  “Yes, I saw her briefly. When I told her of your illness, she said that, having spent her early years on the docks, she has already experienced all the illnesses the Thames had in store. But she insists you must rewrite the story of Princess Rosebud.”

  “Princess Rosalinda,” said Elizabeth with a weary smile. “I think everyone must already know how that one ends.”

  ***

  Charlotte Lucas affixed the Darcy sapphires around Elizabeth's neck and stood back to examine her handiwork. “There. All ready for your wedding. I am so glad I arrived in time to assist you.”

  Elizabeth admired her reflection. “Far better than my first wedding. That did not include sapphires or even a pretty dress.”

  From the doorway, Darcy said, “You looked beautiful beyond my dreams anyway.”

  “Mr. Darcy!” cried Charlotte. “You are not to see the bride before the wedding!”

  “But we are already married, are we not?” retorted Darcy. “My love, have you asked her yet? Georgiana is impatient for her answer.”