by Jayne Bamber
Until then I remain your unfettered starling,
Elizabeth
14
March 1812, London
Lady Anne Darcy sighed to herself as she took a seat in her brother’s drawing room. The dinner to celebrate John’s engagement was a grand affair, and she had done her best to compliment Lady Phyllis’s elegant arrangements, and to be of good cheer for her daughters’ sake, but inside she was miserable.
She was happy for John and Miss Bingley, to be sure. She knew his first marriage had not been for love, but she believed he might have found it this time. Caroline Bingley was a good sort of girl – a little haughty for a tradesman’s daughter, but ambitious and clever enough to take on the role of countess someday with aplomb.
Miss Bingley had been a friend to Jane when she needed one the most, which endeared her to Anne. Indeed, Anne had once thought her a pretty, bright enough creature to turn William’s head, and though Miss Bingley had seemed keen for a brief time, her head had been turned by John years ago. Anne could not think her mercenary; she respected the fact that Miss Bingley had not tried to catch William’s eye after her hopes with John were disappointed. And it had all worked out nicely – except for the late Lucy Fitzwilliam.
Anne hung back, letting Lady Phyllis and Charlotte take the lead in becoming acquainted with Miss Bingley while the gentlemen tarried over their brandy and cigars. It was charming, seeing Caroline so readily accepted into their family; it was only the mother, Mrs. Bingley, who gave Anne discomfort.
She looked up with a smile as her mother approached, strutting in her usual confident way with her walking stick. “Ah, my dear, how wretched you look tonight,” Lady Eleanor whispered as she sat down on the sofa beside Anne.
“I am well, Mamma. I believe Caroline will be good for John.”
“I never suspected you of sulking all night because of that. If you had disapproved of the match, you might have simply not attended, just as Catherine and her daughter.”
“I was no supporter of Catherine’s designs in that direction,” Anne said softly. She had never favored Catherine’s desire for a match between her daughter and William, either, but neither could she support the idea of such a thing for John. They each deserved love, beyond what Anne de Bourgh could give them.
“What is it, then? I was too far down the table to speak with you, but you looked so glum at dinner, my dear. But of course, you must be missing William.”
It was not uncommon for him to be away – when they were all at Pemberley, William would occasionally attend house parties in the area, or visit friends from Cambridge. “I do miss him of course, but he wished me to spend some time with the girls all together, and it is sweet of him to want that for us – I hope I am making the most of it.”
Lady Eleanor glanced over at the girls, and Elizabeth caught their eye and smiled widely. “She has always adored you, Anne. It is good to see her looking happy. I gather it is the work of William’s absence?”
Anne looked warily at her mother, wondering how much she knew. “I do not think she takes any satisfaction in it. They have been exchanging letters and I think they are beginning to find their footing with one another. I am resolved to give it a few weeks more, and then write to him to beg his return.”
“Well, if it is not his absence that has you down, pray tell me what is the matter.”
Anne looked down and wrung her hands in her lap. “It is Mrs. Bingley,” she breathed. “Seeing her and Edward... it is so strange, after all these years. Surely you know... Madeline Bingley was once Madeline Fisher, the young lady who broke Edward’s heart all those years ago. The woman who Lizzy believes inspired her mother’s curse.”
Lady Eleanor began to mutter some rather indelicate things, and someone gasped – Anne looked up to see Lizzy on her way to speak to them – she had frozen in her tracks, and then she abruptly quit the room.
***
Elizabeth nearly collided with seven smoky-smelling gentlemen as she hurried down the corridor, and Richard caught her by the shoulder as she moved past. “Lizzy, are you unwell?”
“No. I only needed some air,” Elizabeth snapped, folding her arms and glaring at the floor.
“Shall I ring for the carriage, dear? I can take you back to Darcy House early, if your mother is not ready to depart,” Uncle Edward said.
She knew she ought to appreciate the gesture, but she only glowered at him. “I should hate to tear you away from Madeline Fisher’s company. How could you not tell me?”
Uncle Edward sputtered with indignation. Richard linked his arm through Elizabeth’s and began to lead her down the corridor. “Come, let us get you some air.”
Elizabeth resisted only a little, for the sake of her dignity, before she allowed Richard to steer her out to the garden, but in her high temper she continued to glare at him.
“I am not going to kiss you again, if that is what you fear,” Richard chided her as they stepped outside.
“I know.”
“I still owe you an apology for that, actually.”
“I know.”
Richard laughed. “Well, I am sorry, Lizzy. I do not know what came over me – I did not know what my father was about, pushing you at all those dreadful specimens. I wanted to protect you and... and to own the truth, it felt safer than following my heart.”
“Oh.”
“You may speak your mind – I assure you, Darcy has already given me the business for it, so you may say what you will.”
“Does William know about it?”
“He saw it and confronted me the next day, after you quarreled with him.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth could scarcely formulate an appropriate reply. “Does Jane know?”
“I thought it right to be honest, after all she has confided in me about Wickham.”
“Well… good. I am glad you have been open with one another.” Elizabeth sighed and sat down on a bench just under the sconce on the outer wall, and Richard sat down next to her.
“I am sorry, Lizzy. I have gone on about myself, when I meant to ask you what that was just now between you and Sir Edward.”
“Oh – oh, Richard,” she sighed, feeling entirely overwhelmed. “Mamma said that Mrs. Bingley is the lady who broke Uncle’s heart, the woman my mother cursed on her deathbed.”
“Oh. That is... unexpected.”
“It is terrible! How can he bear to see her?”
“He must be civil to her; her daughter is marrying into this family, and her son may yet as well.”
“She would certainly like that! Mr. Bingley turned his eye from Jane to Mary as soon as you returned to London, and yet Mrs. Bingley would push him at me! It is so odd. I have never quite trusted her, and now I know why.”
“I should say I know why,” Richard laughed. “You are a lovely creature with a handsome dowry.”
“The same could be said of my sisters!”
Richard looked askance at her. “Do you really not know?”
“Know what?”
“Lizzy, what are your sisters’ portions?”
“The same as mine. Ten thousand each from the Darcys, and the same from Uncle Edward.”
He shook his head. “You, Lizzy, have twenty from Sir Edward.”
Elizabeth was stunned. “I do not know what to say. I have more than my sisters? I cannot like it.”
“Mr. Bingley has piles of money; it will not be why he makes his choice, and neither of your sisters deserve a man who would be daunted by them having less than you.”
“I hope you will not be,” Elizabeth said, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “I am sorry. That was....”
“Well-deserved, I daresay. No, I shall not be daunted by it. That was never the reason – Jane shall make a splendid match, regardless of her portion, when she at last decides she is quite over George Wickham.”
This last had been said with disdain, and Elizabeth could see the hurt in Richard’s eyes. “I do believe she is close.”
“That is kind of
you to say. I am in no hurry Lizzy, and as my father has been harangued by the women to relent in his great mission, you need not fear, either. Although… I would warn you to be on your guard with Mrs. Bingley.”
“I certainly shall! She would push her daughter at a viscount, her son at an heiress, and throw herself at a wealthy, beknighted merchant she once spurned – if fortune hunting were a competitive sport, Mrs. Bingley would be a formidable contender.”
There were footfalls on the garden terrace, and then the clink of Lady Eleanor’s cane. Their grandmother stepped into the light, her expression droll. “So, this is where we come to speak the perfectly obvious? What a novelty!”
Elizabeth grinned at her grandmother’s affectionate sarcasm. “I am sorry, Grandmamma.”
“Oh, you must never apologize for agreeing with me, dear, though I gather you have had words with my old beau this evening?”
“I – I have.”
“Well then. Let us send Richard back in to the ladies and have a little chat about it.”
Richard smirked at them, taking his cue to leave with a teasing bow as he turned away.
“So, after two months of living in such perfect harmony with your family, you have discovered something to grow maudlin over once again? Is that it?”
“I think I have some right to be upset,” Elizabeth replied. “This is the woman who broke my uncle’s heart, who....”
“My dear, your uncle has some right to be upset.”
“Have I not? She saw my mother on her deathbed, she –”
Lady Eleanor waved her off. “Yes, yes, the curse. Need I inform you that this is nonsense?”
Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. “William wrote me that I am only cursed if I choose to believe I am cursed. Oh, Grandmamma, I do not know. That is, I do know that William is right, but sometimes I cannot help but think how many terrible things have happened to our family over the years, and now this....”
“William said that, did he? Well, I am glad it appears I have not waited so long in vain for him to exhibit some good sense.” Lady Eleanor harrumphed.
“His advice was sensible, and very kind,” Elizabeth sighed.
“Indeed! Well, well. You must take it from a very old woman, Lizzy, bad things happen in every family. I have been around a while, and I could tell you such stories! Well, all I will say is that I love my children dearly, but it seems they have let a snake into their midst, and I have tried to warn them. I daresay it happens all the time in the ton, but not to us. You need not be cross with Edward – remember who your friends are.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I think I see.”
“Good girl.”
When Elizabeth and her grandmother returned to the drawing room the younger portion of their party was dancing, with Mary plucking at the pianoforte. Mr. Bingley, seated in a chair positioned to admire Mary, now stood to ask Elizabeth to join the dance with him, and as she accepted his hand she caught sight of her uncle – he was actually standing up with Mrs. Bingley!
Elizabeth had not long to muddle through the lively reel with Mr. Bingley, who, unaware of her distress, chatted amiably how well Mary was playing. When the dance ended a few minutes later, Elizabeth began to move toward the instrument, hoping to lead Mr. Bingley back to Mary. They were intercepted by his mother, who took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “What a lovely couple you make together! It is such a delight to see all the young people enjoying themselves.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied coldly, withdrawing her hand. “It is pleasant to see the young people enjoying the dance. I daresay I spy the most ideal partner for Mr. Bingley coming this way.” Mary approached with a quizzical look, but Elizabeth kept her steely gaze on Mrs. Bingley a moment longer before turning around and walking away.
***
Madeline Bingley wrinkled her nose with distaste as she sat down on the shabby sofa in her sister’s poky drawing room, in what was likely the least respectable house she had ever entered. Across the room, Evelyn Younge silently glared at her. Madeline held her sister’s eye with a confident stare of superiority. Her younger sister would not be given the satisfaction of seeing that Madeline had actually sunk so low as to come all the way to such an unfashionable neighborhood in order to beg a favor.
To Madeline’s satisfaction, it was Evelyn who broke the silence at last. “It has been two years, Maddy. What do you want?”
Madeline smoothed out her dress and smiled. “I have been back in Town for two months now, and I had expected that you would come to see me. When you did not, I grew concerned. I know how much you have always enjoyed visiting Mayfair – it must be such a welcome change of pace for you!”
Evelyn folded her arms and glowered. Though she was not yet thirty, she looked like the older of the two sisters – life had not been kind to her. “Us war widows have not as much to live on as widows of wealthy merchants. I suppose I got sick of always being reminded.”
Madeline maintained her unperturbed expression. “I recall when last we met, you had found yourself a new sailor, who is very much alive. I hope you have not been keeping away because the scoundrel up and left you!”
“George ain’t left me,” Evelyn growled.
“Well, that is good to hear. Is he home? I should love to wish both of you joy. When is the wedding?”
Evelyn stared blankly back at her. Madeline softened her smile just a little as she began to twist the knife. “Of course, you are wearing no ring. But I suppose you would not marry him, would you, and lose your annuity as Captain Younge’s widow? It must be all you have to live off of. Though certainly George must have been able to find some work since returning from his years at sea.” Madeline again paused to calmly regard her sister as the silence intensified. “Oh dear – gambling, is he? I am very sorry to hear it. As it happens, I did happen to consider the differences in life between a war widow and the widow of a wealthy merchant. Only tell me what it is I can do for you, sister.”
“And I might just as well ask you what you want. You never do anything for anyone if there is not something in it for you. Say I did want your help – what would it really cost me?”
Madeline laughed. “Oh sister, no need to be like that. Trust me, I believe you might actually enjoy this nearly as much as I. I merely need to ask you a few questions about George, perhaps a favor or two. No part of it shall be so disagreeable for you, I am sure. You need only name your price.”
“I will not betray him, if that is what you are asking. We cannot wed, but he loves me. You will not pay me off to leave him.”
“Good Lord, is that what you think? No sister, I am sure the two of you are quite perfect for one another, and just as much so for the task I would ask of you. What say you to a new house? A bigger house, a better house – a more fashionable address. I am sure he would not dislike it, and it might be just the thing to help us on.”
Evelyn squinted warily at Madeline. “Mayfair?”
Madeline scoffed. “Portman Square. Respectable, but a comfortable distance away. I know of a house available that shall not cost me more than half my allowance.”
“You have given this some thought. A hundred pounds, up front, and Portman Square will suit. And you speak to George and I together.”
Madeline clapped her hands with satisfaction. “That suits me perfectly. Be ready to move one week from today. I will hire the servants. Yes, they will be my spies, in case you are wondering – you will not betray me in this. As far as the servants and neighbors are concerned, you are many years older, perhaps forty. George is your nephew, and his name is Thomas… something. Thomas Smythe, or the like – he is a respectable widower, and you his doting spinster aunt.”
“We may require some new clothes to play our parts appropriately.”
Madeline rolled her eyes and opened up her reticule. She handed her sisters a handful of ten-pound notes before she rose and made ready to leave. “I shall send a note with further instructions. And, Sister – I look forward to learning why my new in-laws think George W
ickham is dead.”
***
Another week of nearly daily visits with all her family passed happily enough for Elizabeth. She was every day expecting a letter from William, which would complete her happiness, or nearly so.
What she really wished was for him to come home. She was entirely content at Darcy House now, and would be going about her day in perfect harmony with her mother and sisters, when suddenly it would strike her that it simply felt wrong without William there; he had gone away so that she might be at ease there, but somehow, in two long months, she had come to realize it was his return that would most put her at ease now. His penitence served a purpose no longer; she needed his presence.
She and her mother and sisters were to remain at home that day, awaiting callers, and ere long Richard appeared, with eyes only for Jane. Soon after brought Mr. Bingley and his mother, and as the eager gentleman sought Mary out at once, his mother seated herself on the sofa between Elizabeth and Lady Anne.
“Well, my dear friends, what do you think – I daresay I felt rather warm this morning. What do you say to an early spring? What a fine thing it would be for all the young lovers, eh?”
Elizabeth had been rebuked by her grandmother and her uncle, but she could not help herself. “I am feeling rather cold today,” she quipped, and her mother gave her a subtle warning look.
“I hope this weather change is not the reason for Miss Bingley and Mr. Collins’s absence on this visit,” Lady Anne said.
“Caroline is never ill, she is far too resourceful for all that. No, she has gone shopping with the countess and her daughter. I am sure I shall only get in the way, pushing in like that!”
“Who could ever think such a thing,” Lady Anne replied flatly.
“That is kind of you to say. I am all aflutter this morning; I have been worked up into such a state ever since Caroline became engaged. Two daughters soon to be married! If only you knew, Lady Anne! Oh, I am so proud, but I shall miss my dearest girl.” Mrs. Bingley concluded her obviously rehearsed speech and reached into her reticule to withdraw a handkerchief. As she dabbed at nonexistent tears, Elizabeth and her mother immediately noticed the small monogram on the corner of the handkerchief: EG.
