A Sister's Curse

by Jayne Bamber

  “My crimes, in this assessment, are great indeed! Yes, I am a rotten, heartless brother who wishes his sister to stop mourning a wastrel and give a decent man a chance to bring her back to happiness!”

  “You are immovable then – you shall admit to no wrongdoing whatsoever. Very well, I think I must bid you leave now.”

  Elizabeth turned her back to him and stalked back to the window seat; she threw herself down heavily and picked up her book. After a moment she looked back up at him, and growled, “Get out.”

  Darcy was too incensed to move. “So that is it, then? You refuse to oblige me, you refuse to acknowledge that I have this family’s best interests at heart – so much so that, might I remind you, I came here to make amends despite your disparaging remarks last evening?”

  Elizabeth slammed the book shut and fixed him with a withering glare. “I merely wish to hear no more of your self-congratulatory vitriol. You are just as blind and obtuse and, frankly, disappointing, as every other man in this family. You would bully others until they bend to your will, hiding yourself away in your own pointless selfish brooding, and locking us ladies away in a cage as if we belong to you! Have you even bothered asking Jane how she feels? Or Mary, for that matter? You seem ill-qualified to be any kind of brother to me when you cannot even claim to know their hearts at all!”

  Darcy flinched at her allusion to the cages, his heart tearing just a little as he thought of the starling. He strode over to Elizabeth, determined to gain the upper hand. “As a matter of fact, I spoke with Jane just this morning about her feelings, and she is favorable to Mr. Bingley. I told her I should not wish her to feel, as you say, caged, like a starling... indeed, it was brought to my attention last night that I ought to ask her such a question.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes went wide and her face turned white as a sheet. “Oh really, sir? And might I inquire how that came about?” She rose to her feet, her body inches from him, clutching her book to her chest so hard her knuckles were white. Darcy glanced down, just able to make out the title – it was Laurence Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey.

  Darcy felt all the air rush out of his lungs as he looked down at Elizabeth. She was the starling. No, no, no....

  She was choking back tears now. “I can’t get out,” she breathed, before raising her voice to say, “Get out.”

  His feet would not move, but he reached out to grab her by the shoulders, even as he closed his eyes and began to purse his lips, hardly knowing what he was about to do.

  He didn’t see it coming when she slapped him with all her might across the face, and by the time he opened his eyes, she had wrested herself from his grasp and was running away from him.

  ***

  Darcy strode down Upper Brook Street at a brisk pace toward his house in Hanover Square, the frigid January wind stinging his left cheek, which was still throbbing from the force of Elizabeth’s slap. He was furious with her, and even a little with himself – he had deserved it, and yet he hated her a little bit for making him so aware of his own failings. Even so, his heart ached over the discovery that she had been the starling. Everything he had felt about her, every impulse of compassion and desire… and it had been Elizabeth. Her words of disdain for her brother were meant for him, and the cage she had alluded to was one she imagined him complicit in creating. If he had misjudged her, she had certainly done the same to him.

  As he approached Bond Street, he saw Richard coming from the direction of Hanover Square with Jane on one arm and Lady Anne on the other.

  “Brother!” Jane waved to him, and Richard steered the ladies toward Darcy.

  As they approached, his mother’s eyes went wide as she looked at Darcy’s face. “William, what happened?”

  He winced as his mother ran her fingers across his cheek. “Elizabeth struck me. I would rather not discuss it on a public thoroughfare.”

  Lady Anne was dumbfounded. “What?”

  Jane looked panicked. “We were just going to see her. What happened?”

  Richard narrowed his eyes at Darcy. “What did you do?”

  “Richard!” Lady Anne swatted at him. “Oh dear, there must have been some terrible mistake. That is not like Lizzy!”

  “I assure you there was,” Darcy said.

  “Well?” Richard gave him an expectant scowl.

  “William, I want to know what this is about,” his mother said, her voice calm but her face quite firm.

  Darcy had no desire to discuss it in a public street, and as they were so near Grosvenor Square, he gestured with his walking stick and led them back the way he had come. He was quiet for a block or so, waiting until the crowd of Bond Street thinned out closer to the Square.

  Finally he met their silent, seething dismay with an answer. “I went to speak with her about your offer, Mother – that Elizabeth come live with us. I thought to persuade her, to please you and Jane. There was a misunderstanding – about another matter – and we quarreled. She struck me, and what pains me most is that I believe I deserve it.”

  “Will you not say why you quarreled?”

  “She may tell you, if she chooses. I have no wish to speak of it. I beg you would convey her my apologies.”

  Lady Anne’s jaw set in a thin line. “I was going to see her myself to speak about her coming to stay with us, but I see it would be impossible now. Well, William, I had better go to my daughter now.”

  This was the angriest he had seen his mother since he had been a boy. Though she was too mild to display it in a more obvious way, he knew his cousin and sister were familiar enough with his mother’s manners to perceive it as well – the posture of her shoulders, the hardness of her voice, the flare of her nostrils – though she appeared composed enough, inside she was clearly raging.

  “We shall discuss it more another time,” Darcy added lamely. “Richard? Might we take a walk?”

  Richard had been looking at Jane with some concern, but his expression turned mutinous as he fixed his eyes on Darcy. “I had much rather go to Lizzy, and clean up your mess.”

  “Richard!” Lady Anne grimaced at Richard, and Jane looked at him pleadingly. “I wish you would come with us,” said she. “Poor Lizzy, I am sure we can clear up the misunderstanding for her, Richard. She is so fond of you, and I know she trusts you.”

  Darcy closed his eyes as his sister twisted the knife in his heart. He knew she did not do it on purpose, but it stung nonetheless.

  It was Darcy’s turn to look beseechingly at Richard. “Let the ladies speak with her first; I am sure she is in quite a state – I… I know I did some damage, and I am sorry for it. But Richard, I would have a word with you. Please.”

  Richard regarded him evenly. “You wish to make your side of it known to me before I hear it from Elizabeth?”

  “You make it sound so... unchivalrous....”

  “No,” Jane said, speaking up for him. “It is only fair. I am sure I shall hear why Lizzy was distressed enough to strike William, but William did not go to her with the intention of quarreling. I beg you would hear him, Cousin Richard.”

  Richard looked inquiringly at Jane for a moment. “If you wish it, I shall.” He turned to Darcy. “Walk round Grosvenor Square with me, Darcy, and we can meander back to the library at Matlock House.”

  They parted ways with Jane and Lady Anne as the ladies continued up Brook Street, and Richard and Darcy headed around Grosvenor Square.

  “Well?”

  Darcy looked over at Richard. “She despises me.”

  “Forgive me, Cousin, but that is not precisely new information. I had thought you in a more pensive state – last night you questioned whether you deserve her recriminations, and Jane said you were of a mind to make amends.”

  “I admit I have been hard on her – I believe I have been rather prejudiced about her for many years; I assumed she would be more like the woman who has raised her. Yet even as I raised this point with her, she proved me justified in believing that it would be so.”

  “Darcy, your mot
her raised her, too.”

  “You know what I mean,” Darcy snapped. “At any rate – I am trying to say I was wrong. I was wrong about her and I did not realize it until last night. She was the starling.”

  “Yes… your mother and sisters were birds together – bloody hell, Darcy, did you not know it at the time?”

  Darcy sighed. “I did not. I... Richard, I flirted with her. I liked her. She did not recognize me either, and we said things to one another that we might never have spoken of, had either of us known….”

  Richard clenched his jaw, his tone brusque. “I see. You flirted with her. And you believed she was flirting back? You developed… sentiments, of some sort, in the space of the dance, without learning enough about her to discover her true identity? Forgive me, but do you not hear how that sounds?”

  Darcy bristled at Richard’s hostility, beginning to recall his own distemper with his cousin. “Well, I did not kiss her on the balcony.”

  Richard glared at him. “What, are you demanding an explanation from me?”

  “I daresay I hardly need one.”

  “I certainly do not owe you one. I should rather wonder if you are asking as her brother, or her lover?”

  “That is out of line, Richard. She fled straight away from you, and I will tell you what else – when we were dancing together, she told me she came as a starling because she felt trapped. ‘I can’t get out,’ she said. ‘I can’t get out.’”

  Richard looked as though he had been struck, and stood silent for a moment, his expression grim. He sat down on a nearby bench along the square and let out a loud groan. “That is... difficult to hear, Darcy.”

  Darcy sat down beside his cousin. “Yes, well, I suppose now we both know what she thinks of us.”

  “Damn and blast,” Richard breathed. “So, she was angry when she discovered that you had been her mysterious dance partner?”

  “She was angry that I did not recognize her.”

  “That does not make sense – she was so determined to be mysterious about her costume. But truly, Cousin, I am sure we all thought you knew it was her. You did not figure out the three birds were your three sisters?”

  “She is not my sister,” Darcy replied automatically. “And no, I did not. What’s more... well, I did not recognize her at Christmas, either. I walked into her house this morning and asked her if I could speak with her cousin Elizabeth.”

  “You thought she was Rose? But how?”

  “They were inseparable all night, and I do not know… I thought she had short hair!”

  “So, all this time that you have been judging her so severely, the remarks you have been making to me these two weeks about what a hoyden she seemed – you were judging her for the behavior of a sixteen year old girl?”

  “Yes, and I feel like a damned fool.”

  “You are!” Richard shook his head, still clearly angry. “You thought so little of her, you did not even know her face, and then in one conversation and a dance at a ball, you flirt with her?”

  “That is the sum of it, and then I walked in on you stealing a kiss,” Darcy snapped.

  “My name is on her list, Darcy. You are her brother.”

  “She despises that list. And do not think for a moment that I am not completely flummoxed by the sensations I experienced when her identity was unknown to me. It was by no means deliberate; I am deeply unsettled by it.”

  “As you well should be!”

  “Because we are so very much brother and sister? I was away at school more often than not when she was at Pemberley. These seventeen years I must have spent no more than six weeks a year in her presence – she is a stranger to me. She is not like Jane and Mary, and you know it. I think your righteous contempt signifies other motives entirely.”

  “Well if it does, at least I have some right. She did promise to think on it, about us. Even after she danced with you Darcy, and after I kissed her, she still said she would think of us.”

  That was it, that was the absolute knife through his heart. It was too much – to have experienced the chagrin of feeling attraction to his sister, who was perhaps not his sister, but who clearly despised him, and to watch her kiss his cousin, to choose his cousin, his best friend.... Darcy had preferred simply despising her from afar. He abruptly rose from the bench. “I will leave you now – I have urgent matters to attend to.”

  ***

  Lady Anne found her daughter in the back garden, skirt tumbled about her legs as she sat on the soft, cold grass, weeping. Her head was buried in her arms, which were folded in front of her on a little stone bench, and she did not look up as Lady Anne and Jane approached.

  “Oh, Lizzy, my poor girl.” Anne rushed to her daughter’s side and sat down on the bench. She pulled Elizabeth’s head into her lap and ran her fingers through her daughter’s disheveled hair. Jane crouched down beside Elizabeth, removing her shawl to wrap it around her sister. Jane said nothing, but peered up at Lady Anne with a look of agony; her lip trembled as if she would cry too.

  As Lady Anne stroked her second daughter’s hair, she could only wait until Elizabeth’s shoulders ceased to shake with the force of her weeping; these were not the feeble tears of hurt feelings, but sobs of utter loss and despair. After all the misery that had befallen their family, she should know.

  “Hush now, Lizzy,” Anne whispered. “Hush now, dearest, Mamma is here and all shall be well. Come now, tell us all about it.”

  Elizabeth calmed herself, her sobs coming slower and softer until they had subsided enough for her to speak. She looked up at Anne, her face red and puffy, and she leaned into Jane’s embrace, her body going limp against her sister as she buried her fingers in Anne’s dress, seeking out her mother’s hands.

  “Oh Mamma,” Elizabeth moaned.

  “Tell me what has hurt you, my love. I saw William a few minutes ago.”

  Elizabeth’s tears began again. “Did he tell you....”

  “No, but he looked as though he had been struck across the face, and now I find you in such a state.”

  “I do not understand,” Jane said softly. “I saw William at breakfast, and he wished to make amends. Lizzy, what happened?”

  “It is too awful – too humiliating!” Elizabeth buried her face is Anne’s skirts once more, her cries guttural and piteous.

  “I shall not force you, my love,” Anne said gently, “but I think it would do well for you to tell us. Let us help you, let us sort it all out.”

  It was some time before Elizabeth had collected herself once more. This time she drew back from her mother and sister, sitting up and wiping at her face as if resolved to weep no more. “Have you ever cried so much, so deeply and at such length, that you forget what upset you in the first place, and begin to feel as though you were weeping for absolutely everything that has ever caused you pain?”

  Gentle tears had begun to pour down Jane’s face as she took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “All the time, Sister.”

  “It is too horrible,” Elizabeth groaned. “I am truly cursed.”

  Anne flinched. Though Lizzy had never spoken of it, she must have known. When she heard Edward and Phyllis speaking of the accident all those years ago, she must have heard of the curse too. Anne had convinced herself there was nothing in it – it was the lament of a dying woman, nothing more. But with every death in the family, every tragedy, Anne had thought of it, particularly when Lady Olivia had passed.

  She sighed. “There is no curse, Lizzy,” she willed herself to say. “There is only too much that has not been said in this family, and perhaps it is time to remedy that. Where is your uncle, my love?”

  “He left me,” Elizabeth whimpered. “William came to speak to me, and he left me and did not come back, not even when....”

  “When you quarreled with William?”

  Elizabeth nodded feebly. “He must have heard the shouting, but he did not come. I suppose I have displeased him.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, I do not understand,” Jane sighed. “I am sure
William had the best of intentions – I do not blame you, but there must have been some great misunderstanding.”

  “Indeed there was! He did not even know me, Jane. He spoke pleasantly with me for the first time in I cannot remember how long, and then asked to see Elizabeth. He thought I was Rose!”

  “He thought you were Rose!”

  “And when he learned it was me, he said such awful things – oh, I said such awful things! I was so angry at him for not knowing me, and so miserable already, because of – oh, but I cannot tell you.”

  “I do not understand,” Jane said. “How could he not have known you? The two of you seemed to get on well enough last evening – you look very well pleased with one another after your dance, and I thought for sure that you were very nearly reconciled already.”

  Anne shifted uncomfortably on the bench, still holding onto one of Elizabeth’s hands. Their dance together last evening – it had certainly given her pause. Henry approached her just before she left and said that Elizabeth had asked for Darcy to be added to her list of possible suitors, and it had given Anne such confusion that she could scarcely sleep that night.

  Anne let out a shaky breath. As fractured as things had been in their family at various times over the last several years, she suddenly felt this was the breaking point for her, and she could bear it no longer. “Lizzy, where is your uncle now?”

  “In his study, I suppose. He is always there this time of day, if he is at home.”

  “I should like to speak with him at once. Go inside and warm yourself by the fire, my dear. Whatever has happened, you need not be embarrassed; you must speak to your sister, for I know Jane is eager to help. Can you do this for us, Lizzy?”

  Jane stood first and helped Elizabeth to her feet. “Shall we go in, Lizzy?” Elizabeth stared blankly at them for a moment before nodding and standing up, and Anne watched with a sad smile as her two girls walked hand in hand into the house.

  Sir Edward was in his study, just as Elizabeth said he would be, seated not at his desk but in a chair by the window, staring out onto the street. “Edward,” Anne said, knocking on the door even as she entered. “William was just here – did you know it? He and Elizabeth quarreled.”