The Choices Series: Pride and Prejudice Novellas

by Leenie Brown

  Mary giggled again. “How is it, Lizzy, that you can find laughter at a time such as this? I can find only gloom, but you, you bring brightness.”

  Elizabeth rested her chin on top of Mary’s hair. “If I did not seek laughter, I would be consumed by the gloom. It is not that I do not feel it. I just am not strong enough to endure it, so I push it away with a laugh when it becomes too enveloping.”

  Some while later, Mr. Darcy, who had heard the creak of the stair and had seen the light in the study when he had come to investigate, returned to the room and draped a blanket over the two sleeping sisters. Elizabeth stirred and opened her eyes when he kissed her cheek lightly.

  “Sleep,” he whispered. “Your father is resting well, and it will soon be morning when you may take my place at his side.”

  “You have been sitting with him?” she asked drowsily, her eyes refusing to stay open.

  “I have,” he said. “Rest, my love.” He kissed her cheek once more and then lit a low flame in a lamp before snuffing out her candle and leaving the room.

  Chapter 8

  Five days later, Elizabeth leaned her head back against the wing of the chair and closed her eyes. Her father was breathing evenly, if still shallowly. His colour was beginning to return even if he could not move very much or draw a full breath without coughing. Still, it was enough for her to allow her heart to hope that he would recover, contrary to what the doctor said.

  The door nicked open and stocking-clad feet padded softly across the room. She smiled for she knew who it was without looking. Darcy had insisted on removing his boots and wearing slippers about Longbourn, so that he might easily slip out of them when he entered Mr. Bennet’s room. He had made certain that Mr. Bennet had everything he might need for his comfort and care. If there had remained any part of her heart that had not been his, his care for her father had claimed it. She knew now that her heart was now and would always remain completely his. He was, as Jane had proclaimed him nearly three weeks ago, the best of men.

  Darcy took the book from her lap and placed the ribbon between the pages before closing it and laying it softly on the nightstand. Then, taking her hand and after placing a kiss on it, he drew her to her feet. “Come, my love,” he whispered. “Let your father sleep. Sally will call us if we are needed.”

  It was then Elizabeth notice the maid he had sent for from London taking up a place near the window where she might best be able to see the stitching she was doing.

  Mr. Bennet peeked one eye open and watched contentedly as Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm. Although he despised being so indisposed, he had been glad for the opportunity to witness the love that Elizabeth and Darcy shared. He had often, over the past five days, feigned sleep so that he might listen to their whispered conversations and peek at the little touches and looks they gave each other. As the door to his room closed, he said a word of thanks to the good Lord for the match and sent a plea heavenward that his remaining daughters would be as fortunate and that he might be allowed to see them so happy before he was called from this life.

  In the hallway outside his door, Darcy slid his feet into his slippers and then with a look up and down the hallway, drew Elizabeth to him, wrapping her in his arms tightly and kissing her. “He seems to improve daily,” he said as he released her. “He may indeed prove the doctor wrong.”

  “But there is no guarantee until the cough leaves, and he is able to get out of bed,” she said as they began to descend the stairs.

  “There is no guarantee even then,” he cautioned.

  Hearing that uncertain tone in his voice, she said, “Do not fret. I am fully aware that my father my leave us at anytime. I just prefer to look for the glimmer of hope, for the gloom of melancholy is too easily all-consuming.”

  “Indeed it is,” he agreed. He drew her to a stop as a loud and unfriendly voice reached him. “My dear, do you remember that I said I have relatives who will be less welcoming and how I wished to be married by special license because of my aunt?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “I believe I hear my aunt in the sitting room.”

  “I said I must see my nephew,” the voice of Lady Catherine carried to the hallway.

  “I am sorry,” said Darcy. “It will be unpleasant.”

  Elizabeth gave him a small smile. “I will still love you,” she said softly. “You are no more in control of what your relations do than I am of what mine do. Come,” she tugged on his arm, “we shall face this together.”

  “This is a very small room,” Lady Catherine was saying as they entered.

  “Aunt Catherine,” Darcy greeted with a small bow. “This is an unexpected and ill-timed surprise.” He led Elizabeth to a settee and took a seat next to her. “Forgive me if I repeat something you have already been told, but Mr. Bennet is ill, and visitors to the house are being limited.”

  Lady Catherine huffed, and Elizabeth wondered at the near incivility that Darcy showed her. “I shall not stay long, but I must speak with you.”

  “Allow me to tell you what you wish to know. I am getting married, but it is not to Anne.”

  “So it is true?” She gave Elizabeth an appraising look. “My brother had said you would not do your duty to your family. Of course, I did not believe him, but now that I see you with my own eyes, I can say I am as shocked and disappointed as he.”

  Darcy sighed. “I will tell you as I have told him that I am not forgetting my duty. My estate is not forgotten, my sister is well-cared for, and my family name is respected within society.”

  Lady Catherine drew herself up a bit straighter in her chair. “So you insist on marrying beneath you?”

  Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand, not only to give her comfort but to draw strength from the touch. “I do not marry beneath me. Miss Elizabeth is a gentleman’s daughter, and I am a gentleman’s son. In this, we are equal.”

  “But what of her mother?”

  Mrs.Bennet gave a small gasp.

  “Do not think me ignorant of who her mother’s father is,” continued Lady Catherine.

  “And do not think me ignorant of who your true father is,” snapped Mrs. Bennet.

  All eyes turned toward her. “I have heard the stories,” she explained. “There is some question regarding the legitimacy of the previous Lord Matlock’s children. A tradesman for a father is far superior to a groomsman, is it not?”

  Darcy blinked and his mouth hung open. He had not heard the story of those rumours for years and had thought them forgotten.

  Mrs. Bennet shrugged and smiled cunningly. “He came to work for my father after he was dismissed from his position at Matlock. I had thought the stories to be fanciful tales, but I must say your colouring is much more like his than it is like the previous Lord Matlock’s.” She rose from her seat and called for tea. “It seems we have both risen above where we started our lives,” she said. “You would do better to find the son of a peer or even the second son of a peer to marry your daughter. Oh, Mr. Darcy is rich enough to be sure, and I do not doubt he has well-respected connections, but if you wish to purge the taint of lineage, there is no better way to do it than to mix it with the blood of a peer.” She had returned to her seat.

  Lady Catherine sputtered. “There is no truth to the rumours. My father was Lord Matlock.”

  “Oh, my lady, there is truth to the story. Do you remember from the stories that there was a particular object which was given by your mother to the young groomsman? I know, it was not reported in any papers, but that does not mean I have not seen this object or heard the story behind it from the man himself. I have even seen the accompanying note written in your mother’s hand. So, unless you wish to have this particular story circulated once again and with such evidence to support it, I suggest you rethink your objection to my daughter marrying your nephew.”

  Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth or any other occupant of the room said a word. The composed and calculating woman who stood and began to pour tea was not the woman any of them had come to know as Mrs
. Bennet. And it seemed she was not yet done defending her daughter, for she looked at Lady Catherine and asked, “Do you prefer your tea with one sugar and no milk as your mother did or with milk and no sugar as your true father did?”

  Lady Catherine’s eyes grew wide and her face blanched. “I do not have time for tea. I must continue on to London before the day is too far gone.” She rose and began to make her way to the door.

  “Allow me to see you out,” offered Darcy.

  She waved him away. “I am capable of seeing myself to my coach. You stay and take tea with your new family. I shall expect to see you in the spring as always, and you may bring your wife.” And with a small nod of her head to Elizabeth and to Mrs. Bennet, she was gone.

  Mrs. Bennet stared at the door for some time after it closed; then, turning to the still silent room, she said, “Oh, my, a real lady and in my sitting room. I never thought I would see the day that that would happen.” She continued to pour tea. “Of course, the meeting did not go as I would have thought it should, but a lady can only abide so much disparagement of her home and family before she rises to their defense.” She handed a cup of tea to Elizabeth. “I do hope you will forgive me for speaking to your aunt so,” she said to Darcy before taking her seat, “but it really was outside of enough.”

  “It really was,” agreed Mr. Darcy lifting his cup in salute to her, which made her titter.

  She sipped her tea and then studied her cup for a few moments before rising to quit the room. “I shall check on your father,” she said as she placed her cup on the tea tray.

  “He is sleeping, Mama,” said Elizabeth.

  “Then I shall watch him sleep,” she said, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “Shall the rest of us take a walk?” asked Darcy.

  “Oh, yes,” said Lydia. “I have had enough of sitting and watching and waiting for horrible news. A walk would be most welcome, would it not, Kitty?”

  “We mustn’t go far,” Kitty replied quietly.

  “We will stay close to the house. A short stroll down the lane or a meander through the garden should satisfy, but the fresh air will will be beneficial.”

  Jane readily agreed and instructed her sisters to get their things. “I will bring your pelisse, Lizzy. I would not wish you to abandon Mr. Darcy altogether.” Something caught her eye through the window. “I shall be but a moment,” she said as she darted from the room.

  Darcy chuckled as he saw Bingley riding up the lane. “Do you know that at one time I thought she did not care for him?”

  Elizabeth looked surprised at the confession. “I had thought it obvious from their first meeting that she adored him.”

  Darcy shrugged. “I also thought you liked me well before you did. It seems when it comes to Bennet ladies my skills of observation are of little use.” He stood and offered her a hand to assist her from her seat.

  “I do hope your skills improve upon acquaintance with us.”

  “I believe they have.” They walked to the hall to await Jane, but she was already hurrying down the stairs, calling over her shoulder to the others to be quick.

  “Papa will no longer be sleeping with noise such as that,” muttered Elizabeth as she took her pelisse from Jane.

  “I was not so very loud,” defended Jane. “And the house will be still as a church on a Monday as soon as we are out of doors.” She stood at the bottom of the stairs, tapping her toe impatiently.

  “She is not always the picture of serenity,” Elizabeth whispered to Mr. Darcy, who had been watching the proceeding with amusement as he put on his boots.

  Jane gave a small huff and glared at Elizabeth. “If Mr. Darcy were not here, you would be as impatient as I am.” She smiled and surprised Darcy with an impertinent look. “At least now that she likes you.”

  Darcy laughed softly. “I imagine she use to be just as impatient as you are now while she waited for me to leave. However did you abide those days at Netherfield?”

  “It was not easy,” said Elizabeth with a laugh.

  “Ah,” said Darcy. “That is why you were so often in the library. Seeking solace?” He noted how she bit her lip as she agreed. “Forgive me for mentioning that particular room,” he whispered.

  She took his arm and moved toward the door. “We shall wait for you outside,” she said as she opened the door. “Mr. Bingley, it is good to see you.” She pulled Darcy out the door and away from the house. “I have come to realize something.” She stopped and turned toward him. “My father may say many nonsensical things because they are fun to say, but he also says some things which are very wise.”

  “Such as?” asked Darcy, unsure of where this conversation was leading.

  “Your feet will take you where your heart leads even if your head does not know it.” She smiled at his look of confusion. “For instance, if I am upset and begin wandering while thinking, my feet will inevitably take me to a favourite vista or a place where I can find what my heart needs to make sense of whatever it is which is troubling it.” A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “My heart was leading me to the library because that is where it would find you. It is as you said on our first walk. I was searching for you.” She took his arm and began walking as her sisters and Mr. Bingley exited the house. “I thought it a strange thing for you to have said at the time. How could one look for someone whom they did not know existed? But then, I was reminded of what my father said, and it began to make sense.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to where the others walked. “And where do your feet and heart desire to take you today?”

  “Here. Right here with you, and in a week’s time they will happily go with you to London. They shall endure the balls and soirees as well as the disapproving relations. My heart shall be happy as long as it is with you.” She smiled up at him impertinently. “Although, it may occasionally require a respite in a quiet library.”

  “How fortunate that I have two such libraries.” He lifted her hand and kissed it.

  At that moment as they rounded a bend in the lane, a gentleman on horseback called out to Darcy. Darcy sighed. “It seems the day for unexpected visits from my family.” He nodded in the direction of the horse and rider who approached. “My cousin, the Earl Rycroft.”

  “Is he friendly?” asked Elizabeth.

  “He is nothing like Lady Catherine or Lord Matlock. He is Lady Sophia’s son, and yes, he is very friendly.” He drew her just a little closer. “Perhaps too friendly.”

  “Darcy,” greeted the gentleman as he swung down from his horse. “My mother told me of your betrothal, and I wished to congratulate you in person.”

  Darcy raised a brow in question. “You have come from town to congratulate me?”

  “No, no,” he said, tossing the reins for his horse to the groom who accompanied him. “I have not yet reached town. I was on my way and decided to stop at Bingley’s new place before continuing on to town.” He bowed to Elizabeth. “You must be Miss Bennet.”

  “I am one Miss Bennet.” She motioned to the others who had just about joined them. “There are four others.”

  His eyes grew wide, and Elizabeth bit back a smile. “Five Miss Bennets?”

  “Indeed,” said Darcy. “The one on Bingley’s arm is Miss Jane Bennet, the eldest. Then there is Miss Elizabeth, my betrothed. And then Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia.”

  “Which is which?” he asked.

  “Mary has flowers on her bonnet and is walking by herself, while Kitty and Lydia both favour ribbons on their bonnets. Lydia is the one who is talking,” explained Elizabeth. “We are going but a bit farther before returning to the house. Would you care to join us?”

  “Mr. Bennet is ill,” said Darcy. He was unsure if he wished to have another of his family impose upon the Bennet home while Mr. Bennet was still so unwell. He also was not particularly fond of the idea of his cousin, who was known for his charm and rumoured to be a rake, spending time with Elizabeth’s sisters.

  “Is Bingley staying for a vi
sit?” asked Lord Rycroft. “I had stopped at Netherfield, but it is only his sisters and Hurst who are there, and I did not wish to spend my time with his sisters.”

  Again, Elizabeth bit back a smile as she saw the look on Lord Rycroft’s face, for he looked as if he had bitten an apple that was not quite ripe.

  Darcy sighed. “He is.”

  “Do not worry, Darcy. Your lovely lady is safe from my charms. I shall be pleasant and civil, but I shall refrain from being my charming self in her presence.” He winked at Elizabeth.

  “And her sisters?” Darcy’s tone held a warning.

  “Two seem quite young, and one is smitten by Bingley, but there is the middle sister…” He held up his hands as Darcy glared at him. “I jest. She is much too studious in appearance to be of interest to me. Much too serious.”

  Elizabeth saw Mary stop and look in their direction before walking away quickly. “I am not sure what the issue is with the gentlemen in your family, Mr. Darcy, but it seems they have a propensity for insulting the ladies in mine.”

  Lord Rycroft looked first at Elizabeth and then at Mary. “It was a jest. Darcy knows how I have been teased because I am not as quick at learning as he is. It was not a disparagement of her.”

  “Well, you may wish to explain that to her,” said Elizabeth, “although, she may not be easily convinced for she has always been teased about being too studious.” She excused herself from the gentleman and hurried toward Mary.

  Lord Rycroft removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve not had a formal introduction, or I would run after her and explain.”

  “If I might give you some advice,” said Darcy placing an arm around his cousin’s shoulders, “your charms will not work on Miss Mary like they would many of the ladies in town. She is serious and sensible and a favourite of your mother.”

  Lord Rycroft groaned. “She has met my mother?”