A Life Apart: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Harriet Knowles

  She wished she could be angry at his treatment of her, but the thought of a young boy hiding in a secret place to grieve for his mother, and having to hide his emotion at school with no one to confide in, had sent her emotions into reverse.

  All she wanted to do now was make everything all right for him as far as was possible, and that meant distancing herself from him, enabling him to leave her behind. And if that made her sad, then she must push the thoughts far away. She did not want him keeping her as his wife out of pity.

  Chapter 25

  They had made good time. It was still well before dark, and he’d be able to stroll along the street after dinner. Even with these shorter winter days, he was going to be at Pemberley by tomorrow.

  And the Swan was well enough appointed. He would have a comfortable night. He might not sleep for thinking about the morrow when he would meet Elizabeth, but his mind was much easier, now he knew what he must do.

  He made a satisfactory meal in the private parlour. With his own servants to ensure things were as he liked them, he expected no less. He didn’t wait for coffee, the dusk was drawing in and if he wanted to go for a walk, then he must go now. He would enjoy his coffee on his return.

  He glanced idly out of the parlour window as he went toward the door, and stiffened. Surely that was his own coach turning into the yard? He stepped to the side of the window so that he was shielded from view by the curtains. It was most certainly the second coach. It ought to be at Pemberley. If Mr. Reed was travelling to see him, he would be in one of the smaller, faster conveyances. But he could not imagine it had been stolen.

  It was not stolen. He frowned. Mr. Reed was up on the back, with the coachman, and he watched him jump down and wait for the coachman to open the door.

  Darcy’s heart suddenly seemed to race painfully. Elizabeth was descending the step wearily, holding the door frame for support. She was thin and her features were drawn.

  Shame engulfed him. How could he have done this to her in such a short period of time?

  Mr. Reed spoke to her solicitously and then hurried into the inn, presumably to order a room.

  He watched as Elizabeth turned and spoke to her maid, who’d climbed out after her and the two then walked towards the door.

  Darcy watched the coach then roll towards the yards at the rear. He smiled slightly, the coachmen would very soon discover that his own coach was there, and therefore their master.

  He went to the parlour door to find his wife. Where was she going? Was she perhaps on her way back to her family?

  He saw her just at the top of the stairs, going up to where the bedchambers were situated. He turned; he would forgo his walk and wait until she came downstairs so that he could speak to her. He saw Mr. Reed waiting to be noticed.

  He smiled. “Well, Mr. Reed?”

  His steward bowed. “Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy glanced at the stairs. “Will Mrs. Darcy need you in the next few moments, or are you able to join me?”

  “Mrs. Darcy is not intending to venture downstairs again this evening, sir. I have arranged for her security already, so I am not needed at present.”

  “Very well, let us talk in the parlour.” Darcy did not want his conversation overheard. He walked through and stood at the mantel.

  Mr. Reed stood deferentially by the door, waiting for his master to begin the conversation.

  Darcy smiled thinly. He had great respect for his Pemberley steward and knew with certainty that the man’s loyalty to him was absolute.

  “So, where is Mrs. Darcy journeying to, Mr. Reed? She looked very fatigued, is the journey too much for her?”

  “She wished to go to London, Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Reed frowned. “I have tried to persuade her that she should stop more often on the journey to rest, but she wanted to travel with all speed possible.”

  “I see. Well, it is fortunate we have met, for I am on my way to Pemberley to see her.” He glanced up. “You said she is not intending to come downstairs this evening. Is her meal being sent up?”

  “She has ordered only tea, sir.”

  Darcy turned away to the window. The yard was emptying out. Few would arrive after dark, and the place would soon quieten down. “Thank you, Mr. Reed.” He turned back. “I will speak to Mrs. Darcy and we will decide what is to be done. But I think we will not be starting at dawn. Mrs. Darcy must rest.”

  “Yes, sir.” The steward bowed and left him alone.

  If Elizabeth was intending to retire early, he had best inform her at once that he was here. He rang the bell. When the landlord came puffing in, Darcy nodded at him.

  “Please send a maid to Mrs. Darcy’s bedchamber and ask her to attend me here in the parlour. And have some tea for us sent in, if you please.”

  “Of course, Mr. Darcy.”

  As the man left him alone again, Darcy wondered what had transpired to bring her to London.

  He grimaced, he hoped very much that she could forgive his neglect of her and that they could begin to talk of the future. He wondered what she wanted to do.

  Chapter 26

  Elizabeth stared at the landlady in surprise. “Who did you say wishes to see me?”

  “Mr. Darcy, ma’am.” The woman curtsied again, looking anxious. “He was dining in the parlour when you arrived.”

  Elizabeth frowned for a moment. The landlady knew Mr. Darcy well, of course. It was not possible that she was being misled. She cleared her expression. “Thank you for telling me. Please inform Mr. Darcy that I will join him in five minutes.”

  She sank into the chair by the fire; she really needed these few minutes to gather her thoughts. But she had been going to London to see Mr. Darcy and if the conversation happened a day early, then so be it.

  She wondered if he was travelling to Pemberley to see her. Or perhaps he had a mistress and was on his way there. Her heart constricted. She could not argue with it if he had, but it was a bitter thought.

  Finally she stood up, and smoothed down her gown. Perhaps she should have had new gowns made, but she had been reluctant to cause him any unnecessary expense.

  She held onto the stair rail rather more tightly than she needed to as she descended, as if it might give her strength, but as she turned the corner she saw him standing in the doorway of the parlour, watching for her, and her heart jumped.

  He was much changed from those weeks apart. He was thinner and looked gaunt and grey. He looked very tired. But his steady gaze was unchanged, he was looking intently at her.

  She curtsied her greeting. “Mr. Darcy.”

  He bowed, unsmiling. “Mrs. Darcy. Thank you for joining me. I have sent for tea.” He stood aside and she preceded him into the parlour, and moved towards the fire. She heard the door close and they were alone.

  She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “Mr. Darcy, have you been unwell? You look as if you have been very ill.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I am well, Mrs. Darcy. Please do not be concerned. But I was surprised to see you arrive here.” He hesitated and she thought he looked a little unsure of himself.

  “Mr. Reed tells me that you are on your way to London. Are you … are you returning to your aunt in Cheapside?”

  “No!” Elizabeth looked up, startled. “No, sir. I am not. I have not been in touch with them and I will never go back there.” It was her turn to hesitate. But she must have courage. “I was coming to Darcy House, sir. I wish to speak to you. I did not know you were coming to Pemberley.” She shook her head. “But perhaps you are travelling elsewhere, in which case, I apologise for interrupting your journey.”

  The lines on his face deepened. He indicated the comfortable chair beside the fire. “Please be seated, madam.” He waited for her to sit down and then took the chair opposite.

  The room was small and he was uncomfortably close to her. She hoped he could not see her disordered breathing.

  He seemed to be having some difficulty thinking what to say, but she waited quietly.

  Finally, he ru
bbed his hand wearily over his face. “I feel as if I have done you a great disfavour, Mrs. Darcy. We did not decide the future together and I thought we should have some discussion between us as to the best way forward.” He looked down. “I was utterly remiss in wishing to make my decision alone, when it is your future as well as mine that is to be decided.”

  He smiled slightly. “I was journeying to Pemberley to ask you if we might talk and make a decision that is right for both of us.”

  Her heart was singing, it was what she had hoped he might say. She was sure she could persuade him that the right course of action for him was to annul the marriage. She could not do it, he must. And he must do it in the way that would least damage him.

  She smiled. “I am very grateful that you wish to decide the future. It will be disadvantageous to both of us to allow the situation to remain undecided.”

  He nodded, seemingly about to reply, when a knock at the door heralded the servant carrying the tea.

  Her husband turned to her. “I understand you were not ordering a meal, madam. Might I order you a light meal before you retire?”

  Elizabeth shook her head slowly. “I will take one of those pastries, that is all. I am not very hungry when I am travelling.”

  He looked closely at her, then nodded, unsmiling. “As you wish.” Then he looked at the servant.

  “Thank you. That will be all.” There was a silence between them for a moment or two. But for the first time she felt that it was a comfortable silence and she was not intimidated by it.

  She smiled slightly and rose to her feet to pour the tea. As she handed him his cup, her hand touched his and the cup rattled on the saucer. She turned back to the tray to pick up her cup and let her flush fade.

  “Thank you.” His voice was warm. “I see you have remembered how I take my tea.”

  “Indeed, sir.” She sat back in the chair, glad of having the teacup to hold, something to do with her hands.

  He glanced at the window. “It is a pity the evenings become dark so early at this time of year. Otherwise I might have suggested a short walk. I remember last time, you relished a walk before renewing the journey.”

  “I am impressed you remember, Mr. Darcy.” She couldn’t prevent herself from glancing at the window, too. “But it is certainly too dark, and perhaps rather too cold, to walk out tonight.”

  He nodded. “You are right, madam.” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “I would like you to return to Pemberley with me tomorrow. It will be quieter and I am not likely to be interrupted as I would be in London. We may take time then to consider our situation.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I would be grateful if you could spare the time.”

  His sharply indrawn breath caused her to flinch.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I meant no offence.”

  He stared into the flames. “I understand, madam. But I could not blame you if you had.” He turned his head and looked at her. “But, be assured, I will spare as much time as it takes for us to reach a conclusion that we both feel is right.”

  Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Thank you. I appreciate that very much. And now, I pray you excuse me. I am fatigued.”

  He rose and bowed. “Of course. We will breakfast together down here in the morning. We will not be starting at dawn. I hope your repose is restful.”

  Chapter 27

  He stared after her as she left the room to go up to her bedchamber. She was so much thinner than when he had seen her last, and she seemed listless and distant.

  He rang the bell and ordered whisky, and he sat in the parlour, his legs stretched out towards the fire.

  This whole thing was his fault. He was uncomfortably aware that ever since he had come into her life, his every decision had cost her dear.

  And she had not berated him at all for his insistence on helping her, his arrangements for their marriage, his neglect of her since. She had not said a word in her own defence, not blamed him at all.

  The thought of the reactions of other ladies intruded. Miss Bingley frequently berated him for imagined slights, and he smiled wryly.

  Elizabeth was not like her, she was much more restful to be around, and he hoped she would be much more forgiving.

  He remembered the heat of her hand on his arm as he had walked with her on the journey to Pemberley. He swallowed. Could they make anything of this marriage? The first time he had offered, she’d refused him. What had she said? Something about not thinking it would be a good match under the circumstances of being obliged.

  Maybe it was true. She’d also said that he would not wish to marry so far beneath his station. She was very perceptive, both her comments had been perfectly true.

  Would she be as perceptive now, would she realise that he felt differently about her? Her quiet acceptance of what he had decided, her lack of anger against him, her graceful movements, even though she was so tired, all of these had combined together to make her most desirable in his eyes.

  He sipped at his whisky. When had he begun to think of her as desirable? It could not have been at Darcy House? He’d only wanted to find out how to rid himself of having her in his life, whether it was an annulment, or whether to set her up into a second household.

  But here, she was in his thoughts in a different way. He had wanted to suggest she might enjoy living in Bath, might make a new life for herself. It would free Pemberley for his use again.

  But now, he didn’t want that. He wanted her to be at Pemberley. He wanted some companionship, wanted to find out what she was like, whether his desire might grow to a deeper love.

  But he must not force her into a situation she might not want. He had already done that, and caused her untold anguish.

  He dropped his head into his hands. What had he done to her?

  And here they were, at this inn on the road north. She was upstairs in her bedchamber, where he could not go to her. Well, he supposed he could. But of course he would not. It would be a while, he thought, before they might reach an understanding, before he might be able to make her his wife in truth and not this sham.

  He lifted his head and stared into the flames. Would she agree to it? He hoped so. She had agreed to the family pressure to marry him. Why had she done that? The pressure must have been enormous, she’d seemed strong and determined before that second offer.

  He wondered what her father had said to put such pressure on her. He would have said she must marry to save her sisters from ruin. He would have said that the whole family would be shunned.

  Darcy had received the impression she was a dutiful daughter, it was possible he was right in his assumption.

  He drained the rest of his drink. He would go upstairs. He must be careful not to presume upon her sense of duty and obedience. He wanted a wife who was more than resigned to her situation, he wanted her to be … he could not even think of the right words in his mind. But he knew what he wanted. And he couldn’t have her, not yet.

  He sighed, and made his way upstairs.

  Chapter 28

  “Thank you, Emilie.” Elizabeth smiled mechanically at her maid and dismissed her. She glanced out of the window. There were few lights visible, even though it wasn’t late.

  She sighed and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her. The sheets were not as chilled as they might have been, still being warm from the warming pans, but she still shivered.

  The events of the day, and particularly the evening, had tired her very much. Perhaps she would sleep.

  She turned over again. The bed was not as comfortable as the one at Pemberley, but she must make the best of it.

  He was so very thin. It concerned her, although it made his cheekbones stand out starkly handsome, and his gaze was as intense as ever. But she could understand that he had had much on his mind and she hoped she could relieve the trouble she had caused him.

  Perhaps they might even remain friendly acquaintances. Even after their marriage was annulled, perhaps he might wish to know how sh
e was faring in her new life.

  She had to berate herself, for the warmth spreading through her body told her that she was hoping for more than she had any right to.

  Her hopes were not possible, she told herself. A woman whose family had betrayed him, trapped him, could never hope to gain his approbation.

  No, once he was free of her, he would wish to forget the whole sorry episode. And, she spoke sternly to herself, this was what she wanted for him. To be happy, to be free, and not to dislike her memory too much.

  She did want that, didn’t she?

  She turned over again and tried to free her mind, to calm herself, prepare for sleep.

  What would happen on the journey tomorrow? They would both go to Pemberley. But he had his own coach with him. Would they travel separately? It might be for the best, if he might wish to annul the marriage. Perhaps they would travel together, but he would wish her to be chaperoned by her maid.

  She shivered. No, that would be so difficult. How could she maintain the pretence of normality, of light conversation, when so much was going on in her disordered mind?

  She made a face in the darkness — the servants must already know this was a sham of a marriage. What did they think? She pushed the thoughts away. It didn’t matter and worrying about it would only prevent her sleep.

  It seemed a very long night. Emilie did her best in the morning, but Elizabeth knew she looked white and exhausted. It was not how she wished to appear in front of Mr. Darcy, but there was no help for it.

  She wished they were beginning their journey immediately, because sitting facing him over breakfast was likely to be most uncomfortable.

  She stared at her reflection. She must try and think of something to talk about. But she was tired. So very tired.

  It was time. “Be strong,” she told her reflection, and rose, picking up her reticule and making her way to the door.