Lady Elizabeth (Pride and Prejudice Everything Will Change Book 1)

by P. O. Dixon

  “It seems we know each other very well.”

  “Of course we do. How else would you explain our mutual understanding that there are to be no more misunderstandings between us?”

  “Indeed,” Darcy said, smiling.

  The two were soon interrupted when a young lady joined them and begged Elizabeth to accompany her to the other side of the room. Surmising the young woman had secret affairs to discuss with her ladyship, Darcy accepted Elizabeth’s silent plea for forgiveness for the intrusion. He watched her the entire time as her friend escorted her away.

  Darcy was immediately struck with a mixture of regret as well as relief. When would he learn that no amount of time and distance would lessen Lady Elizabeth’s bewitching hold over him? It did not happen when he traveled to Kent last year during the height of the Season. Nor did it happen when he went to Ramsgate and then to Hertfordshire. It did not happen this time either, for not a day passed that he did not find himself thinking of her for one reason or another. He really thought this recent trip would provide the balm his aching heart needed most.

  He would have been lying were he to deny that the prospect of her being connected to those awful Bennets of Longbourn did not cast a pall over what he had secretly hoped for a long time in the making would be a future with her as his bride. Even when she was promised to another did he wish it. Now, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt. Was he expected to congratulate himself on the possibility of an alliance with people so far beneath him in consequence as to be laughable?

  Darcy shook his head at the irony of his current situation. It was just as well that the Duke of Dunsmore did not deem him suitable for his granddaughter, owing to the fact that despite his noble lineage, Darcy was not a peer. How ironic indeed.

  Darcy continued to watch Elizabeth throughout the evening in search of any sign that would belie the notion of her being anything but the granddaughter of a duke. The more he observed her, the greater his contentment grew that all his suspicions were wholly without foundation. He was not insensitive to the Bennets’ loss. The passage of time had allowed him to reflect on what such a loss had done to the family. However, it could have nothing at all to do with the Montlakes, and for that, Darcy was exceedingly grateful.

  Darcy was not the only one keeping watch over Elizabeth. As was the Duke of Dunsmore’s fierce wont, he also kept a close watch over his granddaughter. He turned to Lady Sophia, who stood directly beside him. “It appears that young man is determined to ignore my admonishments that he is to stay away from my granddaughter.”

  Feigning ignorance, Lady Sophia said, “What young man is that, Your Grace?”

  “Who else but Fitzwilliam Darcy would deign to ignore a man of my position?”

  Who else but Fitzwilliam Darcy, indeed? However, Lady Sophia would not go as far as to say that her daughter did not encourage the gentleman’s attentions. Her ladyship was no stranger to Elizabeth’s increasing regard for Mr. Darcy. She saw firsthand how her daughter’s face always brightened whenever the gentleman entered the room—how she was drawn to him as much as he was to her whenever the two of them were in company.

  “Your Grace, must you continue to deny what is so plain for all to see. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are extremely well suited to each other. Try as you might to put forth other gentlemen as potential suitors, none of them have the effect upon Elizabeth as does Mr. Darcy. I dare say no one else whom you might recommend ever will.”

  “Pray you are not encouraging my granddaughter in that regard. The fact is that Lady Elizabeth is destined to marry a peer.”

  “I contend that is your favorite wish. My daughter will have her own view of the matter. Besides, Mr. Darcy is of noble lineage and despite his not being a peer, he is easily one of the wealthiest gentlemen in Derbyshire.”

  Here, the duke merely huffed. “He could be the wealthiest gentleman in all of England for all I care. It would not alter my stance one bit. I mean for my granddaughter to marry a peer. I will not settle for anything less.”

  ~*~

  Darcy claimed Elizabeth’s hand for his promised set. To Elizabeth’s dismay, they went through the entire dance in silence. Not content to part company with him just then, she spoke of needing a refreshment. She was pleased when he asked to escort her to the beverage table, just as she had hoped, but his silence was beginning to unnerve her. Have I said or done anything to warrant his disapprobation?

  “Mr. Darcy, I think I should enjoy a breath of fresh air.”

  “Of course,” said he in return, “May I join you?”

  “I would not want to inconvenience you any longer than I have already.”

  Inconvenience him? If only she knew what she did to him. Darcy wanted so badly to touch her, to take her into his arms, to kiss her lips. How was he to do such a thing? She was his friend’s younger sister and nothing would change that fact. Surely he would not want any of his friends exercising such liberties with his sister. Only a formal declaration of marriage would earn him those privileges he ardently desired. Darcy was certain neither of them was prepared to take such a step and he did not intend to ask her to accept his hand without an iron clad surety that she would accept.

  When they were alone, Darcy said, “Lady Elizabeth, I feel I have been remiss in not telling you how much I appreciate your interest in my sister.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Indeed. I have fond memories of having first met her at Pemberley.”

  “My sister speaks fondly of your kindness towards her even to this day.”

  Elizabeth smiled at this commendation. “I always imagined myself as having an older sister—an imaginary sister, if you will.”

  “Imaginary? Then, I take it that you are not speaking of your late sister, Lady Bethany?”

  “You know about that aspect of my family’s past, sir?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Pray how do you know? What I mean to say is that it is not something that is often talked about—even within our own family circle.”

  “I am sorry if I have touched upon a sore point. I meant no harm.”

  She shrugged. “Oddly enough, I have no memory of my sister Bethany, other than what I was told, and as I said, we rarely speak of her. You will understand if you and I rather avoid that particular topic of discussion.”

  “Indeed. Am I allowed to ask about the imaginary sister you spoke of?”

  Elizabeth had no objection at all. It felt nice having someone to talk to about such matters. She went on to discuss how she had often dreamed of this imaginary sister and described her in some detail: her angelic countenance, fair skin, golden hair, and blue eyes. Her spirits animated, she said, “Pray you will not think I am silly, but my dreams are so vivid. I often wish to never awaken for fear of losing the thread of my dream forever.”

  Darcy placed his hand atop Elizabeth’s. “Does your nocturnal sibling have a name?”

  “Oh, yes!” Elizabeth cried with great enthusiasm. “Her name is Jane.”

  Chapter 19 ~ Unfounded Accusations

  Hearing Elizabeth mention that she dreamed of a sister named Jane struck Darcy with the force of a bolt of lightning. He did not remain at the party for very long after that. How could he when there was so much to contemplate? All his hopes and dreams aside, he could deny it no longer. The chances that Lady Elizabeth Montlake and the long-lost Miss Elizabeth Bennet were one and the same person had doubled, nay, tripled a thousand fold.

  Finally, the pieces were falling into place, and not in a manner that Darcy would have wished. When he spoke of Lady Bethany to Elizabeth, he had not mentioned the other information about the Montlake family history that he was privy to—information his private investigators had conveyed to him. Indeed, he learned that the Montlake family had more than their share of secrets, the most carefully guarded being that Elizabeth was Avery's half-sister. She was purportedly the late Lord Frederick Montlake's illegitimate daughter. She had been accepted into the family fold when she was a small child, months after the marquis and little
Bethany perished.

  Darcy could imagine any number of reasons that the Montlakes would want to protect Elizabeth from knowing the exact circumstances of her birth. He supposed the most significant reason for withholding that aspect of her past was to protect her from feeling abandoned or worse, rejected by the late marquis.

  Such sentiments as these were nothing in light of what Darcy firmly suspected as the hidden truth behind Elizabeth’s coming to live with the Montlakes.

  How had such a fraud been perpetrated on the Montlakes? What would it mean to them, specifically what would it mean to the Duke of Dunsmore were he to find out that his noble family had been the target of such a malicious scheme?

  Now in the comfort of his own home, Darcy paced the floor. Might the duke reject Elizabeth? Might the Montlakes turn their backs on her and treat her as though she were an outcast?

  Darcy poured himself a drink and then took a seat beside the fireplace. He stared in the flames as though therein were the answers. No, of course they would not turn their backs on her. The Montlakes are a small, close-knit family. Elizabeth is one of them.

  Slouching, Darcy rested his head against the back of his chair. He massaged his forehead with his free hand. I know precisely what I must do.

  The next day, the Duke of Dunsmore, thinking Darcy was there to ask for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, reluctantly accepted the younger man’s petition for a private audience. Determined to put a halt to the question before it was even asked, the duke said, “You honor my family in coming to speak with me first, but you must know that I would never bless a union between you and Lady Elizabeth. Lord Robert Frawley’s untimely death has changed nothing, if that is what you are thinking. I am as determined as ever that my only granddaughter will marry a peer.”

  Without allowing Darcy to speak, the duke’s long diatribe continued with some mention of his esteem for the Fitzwilliam family. He spoke of his deep respect for the Darcy family as well.

  Having heard all he cared to hear of why he was not quite good enough, Darcy held up his hand. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but I cannot allow you to go on. As much as I admire Lady Elizabeth,” he cleared his throat, “I am afraid you mistake my purpose in asking to see you today.”

  “You did say your purpose had to do with my granddaughter—did you not?”

  “Indeed—my being here has everything to do with her.”

  “If not to propose marriage, then what other business could you have with me that might involve my granddaughter?”

  “Your Grace, I have some rather disturbing intelligence to convey—information about Lady Elizabeth’s past—that I fear you may not be fully aware of.”

  The Duke of Dunsmore’s expression steeled. “Go on.”

  “It has to do with her family—rather the people I have reason to believe are her true family.”

  The duke stood from his chair, placed his hands squarely upon the desk, and leaned forward.

  “The Montlake family is Lady Elizabeth’s true family. How dare you come into my home and suggest otherwise?”

  “In all the ways that count, I am sure I do not argue your point. However, I am aware that Lady Elizabeth’s history with your family began when she was a small child.”

  “Who told you this? Surely this intelligence did not come from my grandson.”

  “Actually, your grandson has been rather unforthcoming as regards your family history.”

  “Then I take it that you have been prying into private affairs that have nothing at all to do with you. Matters that are best left alone.”

  “Were it only that simple. However, it is not. The truth is that Lady Elizabeth is wholly unaware that she is not who she has been led to believe she is all these years—that she has another family.”

  “Darcy, I do not know what you think you know, but you would be wise to call a halt.”

  “With all due respect, I have more than enough information to prove my suspicions.”

  “If what you say is true—then why have you come to me? Why have you not strewn your yarn of unfounded accusations to my granddaughter - to the entire world?”

  “I have not accused anyone of anything. As for my suspicions being unfounded—that is my purpose in asking to see you—so I might inform you of what I suspect … so that you might know how to act.”

  The duke’s complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. “You expect me to be the means of shattering my granddaughter’s world?”

  “Matters need not come to that if handled properly. If my suspicions are correct that Lady Elizabeth was accepted into the bosom of your family—raised as your own granddaughter with your understanding that she is your late son’s illegitimate child, when the truth is she was abducted from the streets of Lambton, one would imagine that is indeed information that you would wish to know. It is information that Lady Sophia and your grandson ought to know, and information that your granddaughter, especially, needs to know.”

  The duke slammed his fist on the desk. “How dare you come into my home and threaten me. Do you know who I am?”

  “How have I threatened you, Your Grace, when I have come here believing you have been just as much a victim as—” A thousand thoughts and none of them good raced through Darcy’s mind. “Unless—”

  Raised voices emanating from the door of her grandfather’s study drew Elizabeth’s attention as she was walking by. She surmised he could not possibly be arguing with Avery because she just saw him leaving the house on his way to his fencing lesson.

  I suppose my grandfather and one of his fellow peers are having one of their legendary debates. I wonder which nobleman it is—Lord Granger or Lord Bostian. A passing footman would likely put an end to her speculation. “Excuse me, Thomas. Do you know who is inside with His Grace?”

  “It is Mr. Darcy, my lady.”

  “Mr. Darcy? Are you quite certain of this?” What business does Mr. Darcy have with His Grace?

  “Yes, Lady Elizabeth, I am certain Mr. Darcy is your grandfather’s guest.”

  The voices grew even louder and Elizabeth began to wonder if she should interrupt their discussion—perhaps to diffuse the situation. The door flew open, taking her completely by surprise.

  “Mr. Darcy!”

  He looked right through her and shouted at the footman, Thomas. “Summon help for His Grace—immediately. I believe he has suffered a fit of apoplexy. He needs a doctor.”

  Elizabeth raced into the room and saw her grandfather lying upon the floor. Dropping to her knees, she lifted his head to her lap and began cradling him.

  “What happened, Mr. Darcy? What did you say to my grandfather?”

  Darcy also fell to his knees and commenced attending the duke. “I fear this is not the time to go into any of that. Our first priority must be seeing to his comfort.”

  “I heard raised voices. The two of you were arguing.” Elizabeth spread her fingers—covered with blood. “Was there some sort of physical altercation? Did you—did you lay a hand on my grandfather?”

  “Lady Elizabeth—no! What must you think of me? He must have bumped his head when he fell.”

  “I hardly know what to think.” A team of servants rushed into the room. Elizabeth and Darcy were beckoned to stand aside while the others took over. Instinctively, she accepted Darcy’s proffered embrace. Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She took in all that was unfolding before her in stunned silence. What on earth is happening? What has befallen my grandfather?

  Disconcerting thoughts of the man comforting her encroached upon her busy mind, and Elizabeth gradually drew away from him and took a seat next to where the duke now lay on the sofa. She took his hand in hers. “Grandfather, you must hold on,” she pleaded. “The doctor will be here soon.”

  Chapter 20 ~ An Incredible Tale

  Darcy may not have made any headway with the duke, but surely Avery could be persuaded to see reason. His friend would understand the severity of the situation
and together they would find a way. Elizabeth needed to be told.

  For the longest time, Avery sat there, stunned and silent, listening to Darcy recount his experiences in Hertfordshire and the confluence of events that had led to what he now firmly believed to be the duke’s criminal misdeeds—the abduction of young Elizabeth Bennet over a decade and half ago from the streets of Lambton.

  What an incredible tale Darcy told. Avery did not want to believe a word of it, but how could he refute it? He knew his friend’s character too well to presume that he would present such a salacious charge against the duke were it unfounded.

  However, it was Avery’s duty to put forth a compelling objection to its going beyond the walls of the room. “Feeling as passionately as you do and as opposed as you are with any sort of connection with these people, then surely you understand why I wish to protect my sister from knowing any of this. And make no mistake about it — she is my sister!”

  “That is all the more reason that she should learn the truth from you.”

  “What you are suggesting is unthinkable. Consider what it will do to my family—my mother. She knows nothing of this. She will be devastated.”

  “Lady Elizabeth deserves to know the truth! You have to tell her.”

  Elizabeth pushed the door open. “Tell me what?”

  Both men spun around. Their faces registered their shock in seeing the object of their heated discussion standing in the doorway.

  Darcy searched Elizabeth’s face for evidence she had heard any part of his earlier speech and was satisfied she had not.

  Avery hurried over to the doorway. “Elizabeth, my friend Darcy and I are suffering a difference of opinion. There is no need for you to concern yourself.”

  She crossed her arms. “I tend to disagree, especially given that you were discussing me!” She looked Darcy straight in his eyes. “What is this about, sir?”

  Before Darcy could fashion a response, a servant rushed into the room. “Pardon me, my lord, my lady. His Grace is awake. He’s asking for the two of you.” Avery and Elizabeth were gone directly.