Mr. Darcy's Refuge

by Abigail Reynolds

  Jane, on seeing her beloved sister so uncharacteristically distraught, begged her to lie back in her bed while she fetched her some tea and a hot brick for her feet. Elizabeth, too miserable to care what anyone did, obeyed her.

  Chapter 10

  Jane returned carrying a tea tray. “The maid left a ewer of hot water so that I can wash your poor feet.”

  “There is no need for that. I am not ill; I can do it myself.”

  “But it will make me feel better if I can do something to help.” Jane poured a little milk into Elizabeth’s teacup without needing to ask, then lifted the teapot.

  “Very well.” Elizabeth watched the steaming tea fall in a smooth line from the spout into her cup. Water, water, everywhere. Then, realizing she had been less than courteous to her sister, she sat up and added, “Thank you.”

  Jane placed the ewer, bowl and towel next to the bed, then knelt on the floor. She took Elizabeth’s foot in her hand and held it over the bowl. When she poured a little of the hot water over the arch of her foot, it felt like a burn to Elizabeth, and she could not help recoiling a little. “They must be even colder than I realized,” she said.

  Setting the ewer aside, Jane dipped the towel into the bowl, then gently massaged her sister’s foot with it. Without looking up, she said, “We dine in an hour, but I told our aunt that you were practically asleep and would probably not come down. I hope that was right.”

  “Bless you, Jane! I have been trying to think of an excuse. I do not think I can face all those accusing eyes yet.”

  “I cannot imagine that our aunt and uncle would condemn you unheard.”

  “I would not have thought our father would either!”

  Jane shook her head. “I am certain he must have meant well. Perhaps there is something we do not know yet that would justify his behavior. It is hard to imagine, though – Mr. Bingley thought so well of Mr. Darcy that it is hard for me to imagine him proving to be an utter blackguard.”

  “He is not a blackguard! There is a blackguard, but his name is George Wickham.”

  “Mr. Wickham! I cannot believe it. His address is so gentlemanly.”

  “His behavior does not always match his address, apparently. That is another thing I learned.” Elizabeth leaned back. Perhaps someday her feet would actually be warm again.

  The door to the room eased open. Mrs. Gardiner’s face appeared in the opening. “Oh! I am so sorry to enter without knocking, Lizzy. I thought you were asleep, and I was looking for Jane.”

  “Come in, Aunt,” Elizabeth said with resignation. “You are always welcome, of course.”

  Jane looked up from her ministrations. “Lizzy came all the way from Kent with wet shoes and stockings.” The very slight reproach in her voice was as close as Jane ever came to criticism.

  “I was not given another choice, and I had no dry shoes with me in any case. Jane, I hope I may borrow something of yours. We left Hunsford with nothing more than the clothes on my back.” With a pang, she realized her cloak had been left behind, the one Darcy had given her. Charlotte would not even know it was hers. Somehow that loss seemed worse than the rest.

  “What was the great hurry?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.

  “That I cannot tell you. You will have to ask my father. Has he not told you the whole sad story?”

  “No. He has been closeted with your uncle almost since his arrival.”

  “Well, when they determine my fate, I will no doubt be informed of it. If I am fortunate, I will not be dragged bodily away without a reason this time.”

  “Take care, Lizzy; that speech savors strongly of bitterness. Your father is concerned for your reputation.”

  Elizabeth pushed herself back to an upright position. “And have I not reason to feel bitter? He has allowed Lydia and Kitty to run wild. They have been alone with officers more often than I can count. Both are confirmed flirts that no decent man would consider marrying, and that troubles my father not a whit. But when I contract an engagement with an eminently respectable and wealthy gentleman of good family, and through no fault of my own am left alone with him by an act of God, he refuses his consent – refuses even to talk to him – because he does not like the fact that an announcement was put in the paper too soon! At least there was an announcement, which is better than the kind of disgrace Lydia and Kitty are likely to bring onto us. Mr. Darcy was, if anything, overly careful. I fail to see why I should be treated like a fool and a criminal for agreeing to a very eligible offer.” She burst into tears at that last reminder.

  Mrs. Gardiner sat next to her and squeezed her hand. “So it is true, then, that you are engaged to Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? It is beyond my comprehension, since I have seen Pemberley. It is more than just a very fine house richly furnished; the grounds there are delightful, and have some of finest woods in the country. Unless Mr. Darcy has somehow managed to gamble off his entire fortune, I cannot see what the problem could be. You have told us he is proud – could it be his treatment of that nice Mr. Wickham that your father objects to? Even that, while reflecting poorly on him, is hardly dastardly.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “There was no ill treatment of Mr. Wickham. That was all lies.”

  Jane dried Elizabeth’s feet with a fresh towel. “Lizzy, you have not touched your tea. Please drink a little; you will feel better. There are some raisin cakes, too.”

  “I am not hungry.”

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  Elizabeth knew that tone. “This morning.” The last sustenance she had taken was the coffee she drank with Colonel Fitzwilliam at the parsonage. Her father had purchased food for them at a posting house, but Elizabeth had been too distraught to touch a bite of it. “And please, I do not want to go down for dinner. I will eat something here if you wish.”

  Mrs. Gardiner met Jane’s eyes. “As it happens, my husband just asked for a tray of cold meats to be brought to his study in lieu of dinner. The children have already eaten in the nursery, so it is just the three of us. We can all have our soup up here.”

  There was no point in resisting.

  ***

  Eventually, Elizabeth succumbed to Mrs. Gardiner’s gentle probing and revealed most of her story. She was careful to leave out certain parts, such as what she had learned from the colonel about the role Darcy had played in separating Bingley from Jane. That was something that still needed to be resolved between them, though her inclination now was to assume that Darcy’s motives had been good, even if she disagreed with his actions. There was no reason to tell them all of the details of what had passed between her and Darcy, either. Riding double with him had made sense at the time, but she did not think she could adequately convey the situation that had forced them to it. Jane had been shocked enough with the mere fact that Darcy had spent the night in the same house with her. Her precious memory of being held tight in Darcy’s arms was one she knew to keep to herself.

  “So, you see, we had very little choice but to make the best of a situation that was compromising by its nature. Mr. Darcy could easily have taken advantage of me, but he chose not to.” At least not much, she corrected silently.

  Jane said hesitantly, “Did our father explain himself later?”

  “No. He only asked if I had anything to say for myself, as if I had done something wrong. I was not temperate in my response.”

  Mrs. Gardiner frowned. “That may not be the wisest tack to take, Lizzy. I understand why you are resentful, but I fear that your anger may only lead your father to be more stubborn in his position. If he thinks you have accepted the situation, he may eventually be persuaded to listen to you.”

  “I will not renounce Mr. Darcy! If I must wait until I am of age to see him, then I will wait, but I will not pretend otherwise.”

  “I am not asking you to lie, my dear; merely to make it easier for your father to see both sides of the question.”

  “So he can be as unfair to me as he likes, and I must be all sweetness in return
?”

  “He is your father and you must be ruled by him. My suggestion is only to set the scene so that it is more favorable to you.”

  “I will consider it,” Elizabeth said petulantly. “More likely he will retreat back to his library and forget all about it if he thinks I have accepted his dictates.”

  “Would it be better to be continually at odds?” When Elizabeth had no reply for this, she added, “But let us wait to discover more. Your uncle has no doubt gained a further understanding of your father’s motivations, and may be able to enlighten us. There must be more to this matter than meets the eye. As you say, this is out of character for him.”

  “If I write a letter, will you send it to Mr. Darcy for me?”

  Mrs. Gardiner bit her lip. “No, Lizzy, I cannot,” she said gently. “Not when your father has expressly forbidden it.”

  Elizabeth looked away. It had been her one hope.

  ***

  After a mostly sleepless night, Elizabeth decided that her aunt’s advice had some merit. Wearing one of Jane’s dresses and her slippers, she went downstairs to breakfast with the appearance of calmness, though she could not bring herself to smile at her father. She ate enough to alleviate the concern of anyone who might be observing her habits. She listened without comment as the others discussed their plans for the day. Her father made no reference to the previous day or anything related to Kent.

  After breakfast, she gave in to the importuning of her young cousins to tell them a story. She was a particular favorite of theirs for the fantastic tales she wove for them, and if this day’s imagining was somewhat paler than usual, they did not complain.

  Once the children were back in their nursery for lessons, Mrs. Gardiner suggested a shopping expedition with her two nieces. “We will need to purchase a few sundries for Lizzy since we do not know when her trunks will arrive.”

  “I imagine Charlotte has already sent them to Longbourn, since there was no mention of stopping in London,” Elizabeth said equably. “But I will not need anything if I am to go home in the next few days, and if I am to stay longer, I imagine the trunks can be sent on here from Longbourn.”

  “You are welcome to stay for as long as you like,” her aunt said warmly.

  “Thank you. I am always happy to see you, but I believe it is not up to me.” Elizabeth glanced at her father.

  Mr. Bennet lowered the newspaper he was reading by just a few inches. “I have not decided when we will return.” His gaze returned to the paper.

  Mrs. Gardiner shrugged lightly. “Well, then, you and Jane will need to fetch your bonnets and gloves. I will lend you a shawl, Lizzy. I do not want you to take a chill!”

  Elizabeth tactfully chose not to point out that she had spent the previous day outdoors without a shawl. At least she had Charlotte’s bonnet and gloves, and today her feet would not be soaking wet. Her half-boots were still a bit damp despite sitting in front of the fire all night, but a pair of warm woolen stockings would prove a suitable barrier.

  When the two sisters returned downstairs, now prepared for their excursion, they found Mrs. Gardiner still in the sitting room conversing with their father.

  Mr. Bennet folded his newspaper and laid it aside. Rising from his chair, he approached Elizabeth and held out his hand. “I will take that letter, Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth lifted her chin. “What letter?”

  “The letter to Mr. Darcy that I am quite sure you have secreted somewhere about your person -- the one you are hoping to post while you are out and I am not watching.”

  At that moment, Elizabeth detested him. Slowly she reached into her pocket and drew out an envelope, but instead of handing it to him, she darted behind him and pushed it directly into the hottest part of the fire. Her aunt seized her hand, beating out the sparks that remained on her glove.

  Elizabeth looked dispassionately at the singe marks. She would have to buy a new pair for Charlotte. “Shall we go now?” she asked with false brightness.

  Mr. Bennet held out a hand to stop her. “Not until I have your word that you will not attempt to write to Mr. Darcy or to contact him in any way, either directly or through someone else.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyes to his. “And if I do not give you my word?”

  “Then you must remain in your room until such a time as you are prepared to give it.”

  The smile with which he delivered his ultimatum goaded Elizabeth’s fragile temper beyond its breaking point. She removed the gloves and her bonnet and slapped them down on a small table. “Then I will be in my room. You may keep these hostage as surety that I will not sneak out. Of course, that would make no difference to you, since you have no objection to my being exposed to the entire world, but I have better manners than to go outside bare-headed. Perhaps you would do best to tie my hands behind my back.”

  Mrs. Gardiner put a restraining hand on her arm. “Lizzy, your father does not mean…”

  Elizabeth cut her off. “Do not worry. I will be perfectly well. If he intends to starve me into submission, I can trust Jane to sneak a few stale bread crusts and water to me.”

  Mr. Bennet said dryly, “Kindly spare us the drama, Lizzy.”

  “Why should I? After all, it is apparently the only thing which I am allowed,” she shot back as she stalked out of the room.

  Mrs. Gardiner pursed her lips. “Oh, Thomas, that was not well done. I would have been willing to watch her while we were out.”

  Mr. Bennet crossed his arms. “She must learn to obey me.”

  “What has happened to you? Did the fairies swap the real Thomas Bennet for a changeling when you were in Kent? I can understand that you do not look forward to your Lizzy leaving home to live halfway across the country, but all you are accomplishing now is keeping her with you a few months longer, while making sure that when she finally does leave, she will never look back!”

  “It is my family, and I will run it as I see fit.” He shook out the newspaper and sat down behind it once more.

  Mrs. Gardiner met Jane’s eyes and indicated the door with a tilt of her head. Before they left the house, Jane glanced over her shoulder up the stairs. “Perhaps I should spend a few minutes with Lizzy first.”

  Mrs. Gardiner shook her head. “It is best if we give this as little notice as possible – least said, soonest mended.” But once the front door was closed behind her, she let out a long breath through her teeth. “After that little scene, I have half a mind to write to Mr. Darcy myself!”

  With a little hitch in her voice, Jane said, “I don’t understand why he won’t let her write to him.”

  “I wish I knew. Your uncle knows something of it, but he tells me it is not his confidence to share. Something will have to change, though.”

  ***

  The dinner table that night was set for four. Mr. Bennet took this in with one keen look as he claimed his place. “Is Lizzy still sulking, then?”

  Mrs. Gardiner exchanged a glance with her husband. “Since you said she was not to leave her room, I had a tray taken up to her.”

  “I did not mean that she could not take meals with the family!”

  “If that was your intention, it was not clear to me; nor, I daresay, was it to Lizzy.” Mrs. Gardiner appeared completely preoccupied with spooning out a portion of the ragout. “Perhaps you might explain it to her.”

  Mr. Bennet waved away this obviously distasteful suggestion. “Later, perhaps.”

  ***

  Elizabeth was not, in fact, sulking. Since she was forbidden to write to Mr. Darcy, she naturally spent the entire afternoon penning a letter to him. Since he would never receive it, she took pleasure in the utter freedom to write whatever she pleased, including a lengthy indictment of her father, the terms of which would have shocked anyone of her acquaintance. She had then moved on to discussing all the things that puzzled her about Mr. Darcy, asking him the questions she had either never thought to or never dared, and then, in his absence, answering them for herself. On Jane’s return three hours l
ater, Elizabeth met her with ink stained hands, sore fingers, and a pen which had been so often mended as to be practically useless, but in much better spirits for having cleared her thoughts through writing them.

  Her good humor did not last long, since Jane was inclined to hover, which made Elizabeth want to shred all the linens and tear around the room like a mad tiger. Since she loved her sister, she instead expressed a desire to do some quiet reading. After assuring Jane at least half a dozen times that there was nothing she either needed nor desired to be fetched, Elizabeth was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief when Jane went down to dinner.

  Her dinner tray, which Mrs. Gardiner had evidently prepared with her own hands, included a tiny vase filled with snowdrops and crocuses. The evident vote of sympathy cheered Elizabeth somewhat, but the prospect of remaining trapped indefinitely in her room was making her uneasy. How long would her father continue this charade? In his current frame of mind, she feared that she would give in before he did, and then she would never forgive him – or herself.