Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation

by Massey, Beth

  Bethany thought of another possibility. “Papa, she could ride Pudding.”

  Darcy realized his daughter might have figured out something that could persuade her mother. “Elizabeth, she is perfect—a pretty, little, docile chestnut mare. I bought her so Bethany would have a horse to transition to when she is ready. If she is willing to share…”

  Bethany clapped her hands and gushed. “I am willing. Oh Mama, how could you be afraid of a horse named Pudding?”

  This was the first time Bethany had ever called her ‘Mama.’ Lewis had begun calling her that as soon as the marriage service had concluded, but Bethany had held back until now. Elizabeth agreed. “I will try.”

  Lewis whispered something to Bethany. With a nod of her head to her brother she solemnly addressed her parents, “Mama, Papa, Lew and I have another request.

  Thinking the appeal had to do with Elizabeth having a baby; Darcy’s face registered concern that Elizabeth might become overwhelmed with all the pressure being put on her. He did not want her to retreat from what they had accomplished the previous night.

  Bethany saw her father’s apprehension but refused to be intimidated. “Lew and I have been discussing. Now that we have a mother, we want a painting done of the four of us. You know, like the one of you with your mama and papa and Puck.

  Lewis had returned to laughing raucously. Oh yes, Papa, and with Bottom and Caliban too.

  Elizabeth observed the fleeting look of horror that crossed her husband’s face at his son’s suggestion. He obviously was imagining the reaction of visitors to a family portrait that included a commonplace foxhound and the ugliest mongrel in all of England. The number of milestones she had passed in the last twenty-four hours had left her giddy. The need to tease—and perhaps even pollute a bit—could not be curtailed. “Lewis, Bethany, I agree. The hallowed gallery here at Pemberley would be much enlivened by such a painting. It is time to record for future generations what a handsome and happy family we are.” She did not add, and document for posterity our unique selection in dogs.

  Her family, including two dimpled Darcy men, responded with laughter and kisses.

  Elizabeth continued to smile as she bathed and prepared for the day. Her new maid was named Bridget, and though they had yet to become intimate in their discussions, this morning, Lizzy’s mood was infectious, and both giggled at the struggle to contain her curls.

  Once she was dressed and coiffed, she proceeded downstairs to breakfast. Bridget had informed her that Mr and Mrs Bingley were already downstairs. After her wedding, they had gone to Bryn Mawr with Becky and Sir Gareth to give the newlyweds some privacy but had returned the day before to spend the rest of their time in Derbyshire with the Darcys. Will had told her after their conference with the children that Jamie had been summoned and would probably make an appearance at the morning meal. One of the groomsmen had been kicked in the leg by a horse. As she entered the breakfast room, he was discussing the impact of the dominance of the English on the economy of his native land.

  His demeanour was very serious as he stabbed a sausage with his fork and proclaimed, “This new age has come dripping from head to foot, from every pore, with blood and dirt and much of the blood heralding the emergence of English capital has been Irish.”

  Elizabeth could not help herself. She was entirely too happy with her accomplishments to take his rhetoric seriously. She knew what he said was true, but this morning, all she wanted to do was giggle. She resolved to put off worrying about the fate of human kind until the morrow.

  She sat down next to her sister and hummed some nameless tune under her breath. Once again, her mood was infectious, and Jane could not refrain from laughing at her sister. Lizzy gave her a look of reproach, but soon she was back looking satisfied, and Jane took up chuckling. She leaned over and whispered in Lizzy’s ear, “You seem very happy this morning, and if I dare say, filled with pride and conceit. Did something momentous happen last night?”

  Elizabeth looked horrified that she was so obvious. “Do you think the servants know? I will have to put on a serious face, or else everyone will know what I have done, and I will die from mortification.”

  “First of all, Lizzy, they do not know you as I do. I have seen that smug look since you took your first step. Your face would exhibit your determination as you thought of how you would execute your task, and then be wreathed with smiles when you were successful. Now that you have conquered that fear… what next, riding a horse?”

  “Jane, how did you know? My family put great pressure on me this morning, and I have agreed to consider learning to ride.”

  The demure Jane astounded the table by guffawing as boisterously as Lydia would have.

  Bethany persuaded her parents and her aunt to perform at Lewis’ birthday. Her brother would be thrilled, because they now had three witches to say the words from Macbeth. The newest addition to the trio was perfect. Neither child had any idea of the serious themes in the play. They just loved the sound of the words.

  “Fillet of fenney snake, in the cauldron boil and bake; eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog, adders fork and blind-worm’s sting, lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing, for a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble.”

  Lewis was in awe of his mother’s depiction of a witch. She had the very best cackle he had ever heard, and he was sure no little boy in all of England could be as happy as he was on his fifth birthday.

  Millie found the nursery filled with the sounds of glee when she came to prepare the brother and sister for bed. They were discussing the day and the gladness their new mother had brought to them and to their father. Bethany said, “Oh Lew, she is just what we wanted when we played the perfect mother game. I think it was meant to be.”

  In celebration of one month of marriage, Elizabeth and Will set out for a walk. Now that all their company had departed, they had time to explore the estate together. The day was beautiful, and the children were left behind in the classroom. Caliban started the journey by his mistress’ side, but soon his attention was captured by a rabbit or some other woodland creature and he reverted to the pleasures of his youth. Since his arrival at Pemberley, he had gradually relinquished the role of Elizabeth’s protector to Mr Darcy.

  Today they walked arm in arm—as opposed to each with their hands behind their back, as they had that morning at Netherfield. Similar to that stroll, they were silent for the early part of their journey. She spoke first, and he became privy to her thoughts. “I felt like a prisoner while I was waiting for Bethany to be born. When I looked out the window at the grounds, I wished I could be free to experience its glory.”

  Gesturing at their surroundings, her husband said, “And now you are the Mistress of all of this.”

  Her eyes followed his arm taking in the splendour. She wished she could smile, but her mind was of a different turn at present. “I am, but it is hard for me to comprehend all that has transpired at times.”

  His response was to pull her closer to him.

  After a few more moments, she continued. “The night we made love for the first time, you said that I was the only one on your list of accomplished women.” She pushed her playful spirit forward as she added, “Someday you must explain what happened to the others. But more importantly, you said it happened when you learned I had climbed to the top shelf of my father’s library.” With a squeeze to his arm and a grin she added, “Were you taking steps to make me feel cherished at that auspicious moment?”

  “No, I meant what I said. As I told you in my letter, you captured me that night at the theatre. I have never retreated from those feelings—even when I believed you inappropriately greedy.”

  “Was it that you could not resist my great beauty?” She expected laughter at her tease.

  Will’s face filled with guilt as he blurted out, “Oh no, that was not it.” Upon seeing Elizabeth’s crestfallen expression, he added to his answer. �
�I thought your eyes and hair were particularly lovely. Both were glistening in the candlelight. Elizabeth, you looked like a very pretty little girl. Lustful or even romantic thoughts of you would have been dishonourable. I prefer to believe that I was drawn in by the liveliness of your mind and the enthusiasm of spirit you displayed for all things. The forwardness of your confession about forbidden books should have provoked my disapproval, but the witty way you owned your improper behaviour made me laugh. That is the only explanation I can give. It was not until you became—as you said—a prisoner at Pemberley that I thought of you as the most handsome woman of my acquaintance. By then, you no longer appeared as a child.”

  They walked on in silence each lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly he asked, “What set you off in the first place with me? You wrote that you found me handsome when we met, but my manners—my behaviour to you was often bordering on the uncivil. I rarely spoke to you without disdain. Now, be sincere; did you fall in love with me or with Bethany and Lewis?” He too was unprepared for the seriousness with which she replied.

  “Yes, there was an attraction the night we met, but I also felt admiration for Lord Wolfbridge. As you say, I was a little girl. My understanding of the nature of affection between men and women was very limited. You and your cousin caused me to indulge in dreams of being wanted by handsome and powerful men. As I try to remember, this desire that I imagined the two of you felt for me was nothing more than some romantic ideal inspired by poetry and novels. I was disabused of those notions very quickly.”

  Darcy said nothing in the hopes she would not linger with her melancholy thoughts.

  When she spoke again her delivery was thoughtful. “My love for you is much more difficult to define. I was in the middle before I understood what had begun. The spark I believed had died fought to become a flame when I was in your presence. It was the topic of my demanding money that most often met with your annoyance, but you forget the many pleasant discussions we had. I most particularly enjoyed flirting and trying to make you laugh at Netherfield. But, it was when you taught me to waltz that I truly fell in love. Your whispered words of the two of us becoming as one as we whirled in the woods sealed my fate. Nothing seemed to dislodge my tendre from that moment on—not our disastrous dance at the ball or your very uncivil words to me the next morning at Oakham Mount when I tried to tell you what Anne had done.”

  Darcy stopped and pulled apart from her at those words. “I thought my jealousy had destroyed any possibility of persuading you to marry after I left Hertfordshire. When I proposed, you said under different circumstances you might have been able to love me. Why did you not admit you had already fallen—to give me some encouragement?”

  It would have been cruel to give you hope. Though I loved you, I still clung to the belief I could never marry.” Elizabeth flashed her lopsided grin in an effort to lighten their discussion. “After you left Hertfordshire, I often entertained myself by picturing you wed to someone else. She would be adequate in most ways, but she would be at a loss how to make you laugh. Truth be told, she did not even think it important to try.”

  He responded as she planned by proving she was superior in every way to the imaginary wife she had conjured up. His loud laughter brought a barking Caliban to ensure all was right. They resumed walking and the dog once again became distracted by other pursuits.

  An idea struck Darcy that would firmly return them to the celebratory atmosphere that had prompted their stroll. When they came to a clearing, he bowed low to his wife and asked her to waltz. As at Netherfield, she nodded her agreement, looking at him not with trepidation but joy. The flecks in her eyes sparkled as he untied the ribbons beneath her chin. This time as they twirled, he held her close and it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began. There was no need for him to hum a tune—their whispered words of love for each other became the music that propelled their dance.

  EPILOGUE

  A random act of depravity entangled the lives of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Though he knew none of the particulars of what she had endured, the disturbing image of a wounded child initially provoked his protective instincts. The prejudices of the times and his family’s place in society took precedence as he judged her demand for reparations, but still the attraction both felt the night they met remained. He was older, and knew of such things but was bound by vows to another. She had been little more than a child, and the feelings she experienced for him—as well as her violator—had been new and unfathomable.

  Elizabeth’s need for revenge inadvertently put her child in Mr Darcy’s hands. This baby ignited a spark that he had thought lost. Besides rekindling memories of the happy times of his youth, the little girl was also a reminder of her mother. Was she a joyful impertinent child, a haunted Little Red Riding Hood, a scheming wanton or a thoughtful girl who had become a woman before his eyes? She had given her opinions decidedly for so young a person, and her wit had made him laugh. For almost five years, both before and after his wife’s death, he privately indulged in remembering her. Just as fear became her constant companion, guilt became his.

  A chance meeting—initiated by the child—developed into a friendship for Darcy with an amiable young man. Was it a simple twist of fate or was it meant to be? Though the rape at the hands of his cousin had destroyed her belief in the possibility of love, his presence in Hertfordshire released a longing that threatened to put her once again in harm’s way. For his part, the second time in her presence provoked his fascination and a need to untangle the enigma that was Elizabeth Bennet. Like creatures pulled by Mesmer’s animal magnetism or beings guided by Prospero’s magic wand, their destiny was set in motion.

  The two settled into a life of strong attraction, admiration, respect and common purpose. To that, we must add laughter and an ability to speak freely with each other about many things. Words had been important to accomplishing their marriage, and frank discussion served them well throughout the years.

  Elizabeth was most responsible for lacing their communication with humour. Her husband often found notes in his pocket. The first one he discovered, during a meeting with his steward. It had caused him to turn quite red after reading its ribald message. Upon realizing her intention was to continue the practice into perpetuity, he checked his pockets every morning before he was in another’s presence. She often seemed to be waiting to hear his laughter drift into their bedroom from his dressing room.

  Both remembered her father’s axiom, ‘unhappiness has comic aspects one should never underestimate.’ It was uppermost in their minds as they weathered life’s toils and troubles. However, some events defied their ability to find the comedy. Mr Bennet’s death ten years after their marriage was something Lizzy did not find humorous. However, after a time of some significant grief, she chose to remember that which gave her pleasure, and many of those memories of her father made her laugh.

  Another maxim this couple lived by came from Lady Catherine. Though it was far from her intent to inspire such behaviour on the part of her son-in-law and his new wife, inspire it she did. They determined that in love making, practice makes perfect. Still, they also resolved that their practice should never be a duty the way Lady Catherine had implied, and both embraced spontaneity.

  Elizabeth’s favourite spontaneous act of ardent love happened after the first Midsummer picnic she attended as Mistress of Pemberley. Being quite fatigued, she fell asleep on top of the coverlet and was awakened some time later by kisses and licks to her toes. Confusion followed, but the finesse of the ministrations persuaded her that the perpetrator was not a dog who had found its way to the forbidden territory of the family bedchambers—besides, there was that smell of horse, sweat, leather and Mr Darcy. Anticipation had overtaken her as his expert lips had travelled up her body.

  Through the years, they often contemplated who bore the most credit for bringing them together. Both rejected the idea that the honour went to Edmund, although they realized without his cruelty, they might never have
remembered each other. Darcy was convinced Charles inviting him to Hertfordshire was crucial. Elizabeth agreed, but felt Mary’s insisting she come to Kent more important, because that was where she first understood the meaning of her longings. The crucial role of the world-weary Richard and the forward and boisterous Lydia was acknowledged. However, in the end, they always agreed it was Bethany who had been the catalyst… both would laugh, as they pondered the possibility that she might know something about how the universe worked, with all her talk of signs.

  Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, and their extended family and friends, were much like others living in privilege in this great new age. The major difference was that their group cared little for gossip, gambling or philandering as diversions. Their mundane concerns were keeping their families financially sound, enjoying each other’s company, and ensuring their children were prepared to succeed in a rapidly changing world. Though they had their share of heartaches; none had to worry about starvation, malnutrition or many of the diseases that were rampant because of crowded and unsanitary conditions or lack of heat. All were aware of the dislocation and sudden loss of income that many in their society experienced, but they were protected from the vagaries of the times by wealth and prudence.

  Catherine and John Reynolds lived well. He did, indeed, become one of the wealthiest men in all of Hertfordshire, as Mr Bennet had predicted. Kitty’s designs for children’s dishes based on the Perrault fairy tales were used by the Wedgewood pottery works. The Reynolds, Wedgwood and intertwined Darwin families became friends through this business relationship. John contributed money for Charles Darwin’s voyage to Tierra del Fuego. Of the Reynolds’s seven children, five boys and two girls, the youngest male was inspired by this friendship with Darwin to become a botanist. One of his sisters, who had abilities as an artist, like her mother, collaborated with her brother; and the resulting book on the plants of Hertfordshire was both beautiful and well received by the scientific community for its scholarship.