by Jennifer Joy
With a sigh, her thoughts carried her to Longbourn and her family. She had failed them miserably. One whisper of her predicament, and her mother's hopes that her daughters make brilliant matches would be shattered. Nobody would marry into the family of a criminal. Not even Mr. Bingley would dare.
Not able to do anything else, she prayed with all her heart that her family not be made to suffer too greatly for her error. She could not bear it if they did.
Mrs. Smith, smacking the dirt off her hands and wiping them on her apron, came over to sit by her.
"You have had a rough afternoon, miss. Is there anything I can do to ease your heavy heart?" she asked.
With a weak smile, Elizabeth thanked her. "You have been too kind already, Mrs. Smith. You have made me feel at home in your house as any proper guest could be when, for all you know, I am nothing more than a common thief."
Mrs. Smith laughed. "I think not, miss. Whatever would you steal Miss de Bourgh's earrings for? No, there has been a storm brewing for too many years at Rosings, and it is about time that Lady Catherine comes to terms with it. Miss de Bourgh is a grown woman, and contrary to the limitations her mother places upon her, she will not forever succumb to being treated like a child."
Both curious and agreeable to distracting conversation, Elizabeth asked, "You think that Miss de Bourgh is not so sickly as Lady Catherine thinks? Whenever I have been in her company, she always looks so pale and fragile."
"Aye, that she is. You would too if you had some fancy doctor bleeding you every week of the poison. You ought to see the scars on her arms. Granted, I have not seen them with my own eyes, but my niece is a housemaid, and she told me how Colonel Fitzwilliam quarreled with Lady Catherine about that overpriced charlatan killing Miss de Bourgh slowly."
"It is good that Miss de Bourgh has a champion to fight for her. She seems too weak to defend herself."
"Tis so. We have come to look forward to the colonel's visits. He takes an interest in the tenants and is well-liked by all in the village. Mr. Darcy is an honorable gentleman as well, but everyone knows that he cannot take much of an interest in his aunt's affairs lest he encourage her to think that he will propose to her daughter. Anyone can see how ill-suited they would be. Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam, however… That is a match I should like to see."
Elizabeth had never considered the possibility, but her skin tingled in excitement as she pondered it. "Why would they make a good match?" she asked.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam has a strong personality and a sense of humor. He is not afraid of Lady Catherine. She would soon enough be put in her proper place. With his experience in maneuvers and battles, she would not even know it had been done until it was too late for her to complain!" She laughed with her hand covering her mouth, eyes darting around, as if even from the distance between that spot at the back of her home and Rosings, Lady Catherine might overhear her unflattering comments.
They chatted more and Elizabeth's mood cheered. The more she thought about Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh, the more she believed it to be a possibility. And then, it struck her.
Elizabeth remembered the debt which made Mr. Collins suspect that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been the one to take the earrings. Putting herself in Miss de Bourgh's position, how would she react if the man she loved had a debt she could easily help him with? She would not hesitate. She would have given him something of value which he could use to cover the amount. Not able to base her suspicion on anything more than Mrs. Smith's ramblings and her own imagination, she bit her tongue. But her legs fidgeted in her anxiety to speak with someone about it. Oh, would Mr. Darcy never return? She could talk to him with impunity. He would know what to do and could soon allay her suspicion or pronounce her correct. The longer she dwelt on it, the more certain she grew that the latter was the case. It fit too well. Had not Mr. Darcy said that it was implied that the earrings had not been stolen in the first place?
Elizabeth, filled with hope once again, waited. The time passed no more quickly for her change in attitude, but it was bearable.
The crunch of hooves in the lane made both women look toward the front of the house. Most likely, it was work for Mr. Smith, but the logical thought did not prevent Elizabeth from walking through the house to look through the open door.
To her relief and surprise, she saw Mr. Darcy dismount his horse and hand the reins to Mr. Smith. Mr. Collins was with him, astride a horse she had not seen before.
She bounced forward before she remembered to calm herself. Clasping her hands together to keep from gesturing too wildly in her excitement, she said with a rushed curtsy, "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins, I believe I may know what might have happened to Miss de Bourgh's earrings!"
Mr. Darcy looked taken aback, but Mr. Collins only shrugged his slumped shoulders.
"I would be pleased to hear what you have to say. Perhaps we might discuss this inside?" suggested Mr. Darcy.
They had hardly sat when she began. "In conversation with Mrs. Smith, she mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam and how he would make a perfect match for Miss de Bourgh." She paused, hoping to have her suspicion confirmed, but as usual, Mr. Darcy's expressionless face revealed nothing, and her cousin wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, covering most of his face in the process.
Continuing, she said, "We all know of the predicament Colonel Fitzwilliam was in not long ago. No details are needed or applicable on that account, so I will not speak of them. However, if a lady who loved him was aware of his situation, she would gladly give him something of value to help. I would not hesitate to do so, and if my suspicions are well-founded, neither did Miss de Bourgh."
She stopped, having said what she needed to say, and waited.
Mr. Darcy looked at her in that disconcerting way she had grown accustomed to in the months of their acquaintance. Soon enough, the corners of his lips twitched up, and the relief it brought her had no limit. She was right! She had solved the crime— which was not a crime at all!
"You are correct in part," he said, his eyes brilliant with elation. "Unbeknown to anyone, my cousin has been courting Anne for several years now. In fact, we left them to deal with my aunt only minutes ago. He is not one to easily lose his resolve, and Anne has grown stronger than I ever thought her capable of being with his rock-like support. I think they will make each other very happy." Melancholy flickered across his face, dulling his countenance ever so slightly.
“Is it possible? How did Lady Catherine react?” she asked, a rush of questions on the tip of her tongue.
“It has happened and my aunt, though initially furious, is making the best of it. It turns out that Richard has a solid head for business and can increase her income. Also, Anne was smart and learned the conditions of her inheritance. According to her deceased father’s will, she is to inherit when she marries.”
"I wish them happy," agreed Elizabeth politely, craving for his smile to return. Surely, he was content. Was he not?
A carriage passed through the yard. Elizabeth leaned forward to peek through the door, but she could not see enough to confirm what she could only hope.
Clearing his throat, Mr. Darcy said, "Yes, well, we came to see you safely back to the parsonage. We must not delay any longer. Mr. Collins and I have business in London. We must make haste if we are to make any progress before nightfall."
Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, confused and wanting answers.
"I am free to go?" she asked, just to ensure she had not dreamed the last exchange.
"You are free, and as far as anyone knows, you merely visited Mrs. Smith while her husband fixed the broken clasp on your trunk."
Elizabeth had been outside most of the afternoon and had not paid much attention to her surroundings. There, in the shade of the door, sat her trunk with a new clasp on it.
Once again, Mr. Darcy had thought of everything. He had protected her reputation by giving her an alibi, so that no one in the village would dare call her character into question.
“T
hank you,” she whispered, desperate to read his heart. He was free from his engagement, but was he free to love her as he had once claimed that he did?
His smile returned.
Mr. Collins fanned himself with his damp handkerchief. He mumbled some words which Elizabeth did not try to hear. She did not want to look away from the man in front of her. How she wished she could have more answers, but it was not to be.
A footman stood in the doorway, and everyone sprang to action. Elizabeth thanked the Smiths for their hospitality and company while Mr. Darcy arranged for her trunk to be transported back to the parsonage. He handed her into the carriage, ensuring she was comfortable before he mounted his horse to follow the distance to Mr. Collins’ home.
It took just minutes for her trunk to be returned upstairs to the room in which she had spent the past month. The dust had not yet settled, and the coach was gone along with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins.
Questions swarmed in her mind, the foremost of which was: What urgent business did Mr. Darcy have with Mr. Collins in London? Who had stolen the earrings and allowed her to take the blame? Was Charlotte’s place in her home safe? Why did Mr. Darcy have to leave? Did he still love her?
Turning to the house, Charlotte and Maria welcomed her with embraces and kisses. She would ask Charlotte what she could.
Chapter 32
"What has happened?" Elizabeth asked Charlotte once she felt calm enough to ask.
"Mr. Darcy did not tell you?"
"He told me about Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh and that the earrings had not been stolen to start with. What I do not understand is how they were found here, in your sewing box, if they were not stolen."
Charlotte took her by the hand, leading her to the seating area. The last rays of sun peeked through the tops of the trees, lining the lane, and warmed Elizabeth. After the anxieties and nerves of the past few days, she thought she might melt into a puddle, such was her relief to be amongst her friends and free again. She planned to go on a very long walk on the morrow.
Charlotte ordered some tea, maintaining their conversation until it arrived.
"There, now that you are properly settled, I have much to tell you… and even more for which to thank you." She rocked in her chair, already the picture of maternal bliss. Her hand rested protectively over the front of her dress. She would be a wonderful mother. A stab of envy pierced Elizabeth’s soul at the lovely sight.
The whole story of the revealing conversation at Rosings was told from beginning to end by the time the contents of the tea pot had run dry.
Elizabeth sat in pensive quiet while Maria perfected the flowers on her white work, and Charlotte rocked contentedly in her chair. It was a lot to think through and make sense of.
Finally, grasping the truth fully, Elizabeth shared her conclusion. "What amazes me is how much of this could have been avoided had we trusted each other enough to confide in each other. Had I told you about the magazine, Maria probably would not have suffered Lady Catherine's scrutiny. Had Colonel Fitzwilliam or Miss de Bourgh trusted Mr. Darcy or revealed the truth of their affection for each other to Lady Catherine earlier, the earrings would not have been stolen in the first place."
"And if I had trusted my husband, he would not have involved himself as he did by inviting a search in our home. Had he trusted me, I would have helped him overcome his desire for revenge, and you would have enjoyed a more peaceful visit with us," added Charlotte.
Elizabeth sighed. "Do you think we will learn from our mistakes? Or will we forget as the time passes and continue on as we always have done?" She folded her legs up under her dress and leaned her head back until it touched the wall.
"For me, I am determined to change. The events of the past few days have been too difficult to so easily forget them. In that time, I spoke in anger against my dearest friend, displayed a lack of trust in my own husband, and allowed my sister to stray down the wide path when I should have offered her help."
Maria finally spoke. "But you did not know what I had been up to, Charlotte. How could you possibly have helped me? And Lizzy, had I openly admitted to my wrong instead of acting like a coward, you would have had no need to talk to Charlotte. I wish that neither of you would feel guilty on my account. I beg your forgiveness."
Elizabeth smiled at Maria. After all the trouble she had put her through, it was nice to hear an apology.
Charlotte stopped rocking. "It is true. I did not know what you had done. But I did notice a change in your behavior. You became more withdrawn than you normally are, and you would not meet my eyes when we spoke. You looked guilty of something, and I did not press you to talk to me. You would have told me had I only asked."
Maria nodded her head. "I have learned my lesson. Keeping a secret is miserable, and I plan to do nothing that would involve keeping one ever again. I would sooner tattle on myself and be done with the guilt."
"Speaking of secrets, Lizzy, what of the proposal you received? Mr. Collins said that Mr. Darcy almost looked proud when he informed his aunt that you had refused him. What could he possibly have said for you to reject him?"
She knew it was not the most appropriate reaction, but she smiled. Laughter soon followed. How ridiculous it all seemed now! And how very long ago it all felt.
"You must believe me when I say that it was quite possibly the worst proposal ever voiced by a gentleman. My hope is that Mr. Darcy is able to reflect on that moment with the humor that I can, for it truly was abominable. He insulted my family, my position in society, and my inferior circumstances, saying that he loved me most ardently despite struggling against those deficiencies he held against me."
Maria gasped, her mouth open as wide as her eyes.
Charlotte covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes dancing in merriment. "He did not! Oh, I should have liked to have witnessed that! I can only imagine how you replied."
At that, regret tempered her laughter and withered her smile. "I responded exactly as you might expect me to. At first, I tried to be polite, but the insults overpowered my delicacy, and I informed him that were he the last man in the world, I could never be presumed upon to marry him.”
"Oh, Lizzy, were you as blind as that? You would be hard-pressed to find a gentleman so complementary to you in disposition. I always thought that once you saw past each other's unfortunate first impressions, you would grow to like each other very much. Perhaps I was wrong." Charlotte shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, but she glanced up too many times to successfully feign complete disinterest.
Elizabeth thought of all the ways she and Mr. Darcy complemented each other. Not everyone appreciated her sense of humor, but he understood her. People determined at a first glance that Mr. Darcy was serious and haughty. His comments only encouraged them to think so, but Elizabeth understood him better now. She had committed the same fallacy, only to find that he was everything a gentleman ought to be through his actions. By her ease and liveliness, his terse manners might improve. And from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, her own views stood to benefit.
"You were right, Charlotte. Only, I realized it too late," Elizabeth said softly, her eyes closed.
When no consoling words came, she sat up and stretched her legs down to the floor. She wished Charlotte would say something. Or even Maria. Something. Anything to give her some small reason to hang on to hope. But none were offered, and the conversation soon turned to Lady Catherine and the effect her daughter's revelation would have on her.
The next day passed slowly. Too many times, Elizabeth found herself looking out of the window toward the lane. Her preferred occupation had become sitting in the window seat with a book in her hand. Not that she read much, but it gave her an excuse to watch for riders coming up the road.
She chose her walking paths likewise as well, never straying too far lest she miss Mr. Darcy's return. What could he have gone to town with Mr. Collins for?
Elizabeth asked Charlotte that same question, but the only response she
got was a pursing of the lips and a: "You must wait to find out for yourself. You will get nothing from me."
There was nothing in her words or her manners to signify if that was good or bad.
As another day passed by, and hers and Maria's departure from Hunsford neared, she wondered if she would ever find out. She and Maria would leave Hunsford on the morrow. Yet, Mr. Darcy had not returned with Mr. Collins. Charlotte was not worried in the least but kept herself busy in her home. Maria helped her, and Elizabeth, feeling restless and hopeless, was left to her own devices. It was torture.
The evening before their departure, Lady Catherine invited them to dine at Rosings. Still no Mr. Darcy.
Miss de Bourgh looked happier and livelier than Elizabeth could recall seeing her. She had thought her a sickly, mousy lady, but now she could better appreciate Mr. Collins’ compliments to her aristocratic looks.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, always one to bring joy to the table, was twice as jolly as he had ever been. It was both a pleasure and a misery to spend hours in their company. Elizabeth was happy for anyone who was fortunate enough to marry for love, but as her prospects of ever experiencing such a blessed emotion dwindled down to nothing, she could not keep the melancholy at bay completely.
Lady Catherine was shockingly reserved. Instead of spewing unasked for advice at every turn, she limited herself to the occasional remark.
When they went into the drawing room for coffee, Elizabeth found herself seated by a glowing Miss de Bourgh.
"Let me take this opportunity to congratulate you, Miss de Bourgh. You both look so happy," Elizabeth managed to say with a smile.
Blushing and looking down at her hands before meeting Elizabeth's eyes, she said, "I feel like I am living in a dream. Even Mother seems to have come to terms with it."
"You are very fortunate indeed. I would not have thought such a miracle possible," Elizabeth said, her smile growing more genuine and less forced.
