Mr Darcy's Cottage of Earthly Delights

by Beth Massey

  Georgiana broke into laughter at Lizzy’s depiction of her sibling’s praise and censure. “It sounds as though I have an ideal elder brother… except when he is called on to evaluate a certain young lady who caught his eye at an assembly in Meryton.

  The laughter continued, but Lizzy curbed her hilarity, and said her next sentiments in a more serious voice, “Indeed, I am certain many would envy your good fortune to have him as a brother. As you know,

  your brother and I have struggled to sketch each other’s character since October last. His assessment of me has often been flawed, and his choice of words has rarely been perfect. My speech tends toward the impertinent, and almost never achieves Wickham’s polished prose. However, both your brother and I speak from our hearts and truth is paramount.” Lizzy reached into her reticule and handed Georgiana a brown paper package. “I brought you a present. It is a novel, Sense and Sensibility by a lady. The story is of two sisters and the contrasting ways they come to love. The younger sister becomes enamoured of a very charming rake. I saw much of Wickham in the character of Willoughby. I hope you enjoy it. It allowed me to know I was not the first young woman to be taken in by a smooth talking, handsome man.”

  Georgiana opened the package and tried to hide the tears that formed in her eyes as she read the dedication:

  Pemberley

  August, 1812

  To Georgiana my soon-to-be sister,

  Read this with the knowledge that together we will face the future sharing the love of the best of men. He saved us both from the treachery of the same undeserving, but very charming, cad.

  Love,

  Elizabeth

  In a most uncharacteristic gesture, Georgiana threw her arms around Elizabeth’s neck and hugged her.

  For the next several hours the two young women talked of many things. Their fathers and their mothers were thoroughly explored. Elizabeth could not be satiated with talk of a younger Fitzwilliam. Imagine her surprise when she learned he and his cousin Richard were forever staging amateur theatricals. “I have been told that I often played the role of an angelic child threatened by a villain. They particularly liked to re-enact stories with conspicuous amounts of swordplay. Richard, to this day, often thanks Will—in public and with a smirk—for all the training he got at Darcy’s hands for his chosen career.” Georgiana squeezed Elizabeth’s hand before she continued with her musings. “The colonel enjoys confessing he finds it helpful to imagine an actual opponent wearing the same loopy fake moustache of which Will had been so fond. He says it causes his opponents to wonder why he laughs inappropriately as he facies death. With another squeeze, she delivered the end of her recollection. “Since his main responsibility is training troops, he is hardly ever in danger. Will likes to say he is a great one for embellishing a story.” Her last statement was met with much nodding from Lizzy.

  At half five Elizabeth and Georgiana took a turn around the gallery before heading downstairs to find Will. Lizzy walked very quickly past the sculptures of Achilles and the goddess with the proffered bottom. She was in danger of betraying the nature of her reflections on what was displayed between Achilles’ legs, as well as enjoying a tad too much humour in viewing him in all his naked glory with a helmet atop his head. Georgiana pulled her back to the reclining nude, and confided wishing her rear was as lovely.

  Elizabeth could not stop giggling at what appeared to be a truth universally acknowledged that young women confronted with that perfectly depicted posterior hoped for a favourable comparison.

  When they arrived at the landscapes, Lizzy complimented Georgie on the crayon drawing of the lake and swans. “Why did you give up drawing? You are very talented. I think you should start to paint like your mother. How old were you when you did this picture?”

  “I was nine and was attempting to capture my mother’s persona by emulating her endeavours. I put away my aspirations to be an artist, as I grew older. However, I have considered taking it back up. The pianoforte, which I love mind you, requires me to be inside. Painting would allow me to be outside and enjoy the beauties of Pemberley.”

  Their conversation took a ridiculous and hilarious turn, as they discussed sitting for their own portraits for the gallery. Georgiana admitted to considering wearing orange and feathers, so that posterity would know she was at least as fashionable as Miss Bingley. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and wickedly admitted she would rather have a sculpture that preserved her than a portrait. Georgie with an amount of mirth she rarely displayed assured her that Will would never allow his wife to be depicted naked; and besides the sculptor of these statues was in Italy. Within minutes it was decided Georgiana would take up sculpture rather than painting. She would then be able to render an image of Lizzy, but could depict her wearing Will’s fake moustache in order to disguise her from being recognized as the Master of Pemberley’s wife. Lizzy suggested that perhaps, beside the moustache to hide her true identity, she could wear a matron’s cap… no too revealing of the subject’s place… perhaps, a helmet and pay tribute to Achilles with her head covering. However, the question of her bottom’s beauty rivalling the reclining nude remained to be seen.

  Two giggling girls with linked arms walked into Will Darcy’s study. His amazement at the transformation of both left him looking quite befuddled. Georgiana had rarely smiled prior to this session, and he had never seen Elizabeth as distraught as she had been only hours before. As she left Lizzy to her brother’s care, Georgiana made a date to learn a duet with her sister-to-be once arrived at Netherfield.

  Will asked Lizzy to sit while he finished reading some correspondence. She did not sit, but observed her favourite prospect from the window, and wondered whether he looked to those hills and the structure hidden within while he worked. Was he as affected by those memories? He also had another version of his mother’s painting of the cottage hanging on the wall, as well as a painting Elizabeth quite loved because of the juxtaposition of unrelated images. The folly was depicted in all its pretentious dignity, but a young Will, and she assumed a young Colonel Fitzwilliam were duelling with wooden swords in front of the temple. Will did indeed have a prodigious amount of hair adorning his upper lip, and there were three spotted spaniels obediently watching the show. As she looked at the image, her greatest desire at that moment was to have had the privilege of knowing Lady Anne. Within seconds this train of thought ended in remorse; and she shivered in the belief she would not have approved of Lizzy being her beloved son’s wife. Her mind returned to her guilt; and all the joviality he had noticed upon her return from her visit with Georgiana seemed to dissipate while she waited in his study. He called for the curricle, and they proceeded outside to await its arrival.

  While they were waiting, Georgiana rushed down the front steps and joined them. She handed Elizabeth a package wrapped in a remnant of the pink damask and tied with a green ribbon. “Lizzy, I want you to have this as a remembrance of our afternoon together.”

  Upon opening the package she saw it was the crayon drawing Georgiana had done of the lake and its swans. “Oh Georgie, I will treasure this always. It will hang in my room at Longbourn, until I bring it back here to its rightful place.”

  Will noticed that this gesture by his sister had restored Lizzy to good humour. He watched with relief and a touch of envy as Georgiana embraced Elizabeth in parting.

  Will’s questioning of Lizzy about her discussion with his sister, took up the curricle ride back to the Rose and Crown. She basked in his approval of her ability to work miracles with his sister. The detour was forgotten and soon they were pulling up to the inn. It was decided he would come in with her, and they could continue to talk in the common room. No propriety would be breached with other guests congregated, and the noise would cover the content of their conversation. It would encourage gossip about the two throughout Derbyshire, but since the stories would represent the true path of their acquaintance, he had no fear. She would be back in the neighbourhood within a month as the Mistress of Pemberley, and idle talk
would become actual fact.

  The chambermaid, Lucy, came up to Elizabeth and said, “Miss, two letters from Hertfordshire have arrived for you. I thought you would be back much later, so I put them on your bed to make sure you would see them when you returned this evening. Would you like me to bring them down to you?”

  Elizabeth had been disappointed in not finding a letter from Jane when she first arrived in Lambton; and this disappointment had been renewed each day until their visit to Pemberley. She had forgotten her thirst for news from home in the whirlwind of the momentous events of the past few days. However, the receipt of two letters from home at once sent her upstairs to read them. She requested Will wait for her, and promised him she would not take long.

  One of the two letters had been misdirected. Elizabeth was not surprised, as Jane had written the direction remarkably ill. She opened that one to read. It surely had been written first. The date at the top indicated that it had been written six days ago. The beginning contained an account of all her sister’s recent activities; but the latter half, which was dated a day later and written in evident agitation, gave more important intelligence.

  Since writing the above, something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature. I do not mean to alarm you, rest assured all at Longbourn are well. The serious news is from Brighton, and relates to poor Lydia. An express came at midnight last night, just as we were all gone to bed. Colonel Forster informed us she had gone off to Scotland with one of his officers. Lizzy, it was Wickham who convinced her to elope! All of us were surprised, except Kitty. She seemed to have had some previous knowledge of Lydia’s plans.

  I am very, very sorry to relay such distressing news. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing to hope for the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but he is at least to marry her. His choice of Lydia is unfathomable, for he must know our father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I we never let them know what has been said against him. You and I must forget it ourselves. The conjecture is they were off Saturday night about twelve. However, they were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. Colonel Forster writes to father to expect him here to consult soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention.

  I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make out my meaning as I myself struggle to understand the words I have written.

  Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing what she felt except dread, Elizabeth instantly tore open the second with the utmost impatience. This correspondence had been composed a day later than the conclusion of the first.

  By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter. I wish this to be more intelligible, but though I have more time to devote to the effort, I am so bewildered about the event that I cannot claim to be coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I have bad news for you, and as much as I wish to spare you, it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place. There is no evidence they have gone to Scotland, and much reason to fear they have not. Colonel Forster came, as promised, yesterday. Lydia's short letter to Mrs F gave them to understand they were going to Gretna Green. However, Denny was coerced to express his belief that W never intended to go to Scotland, or to marry Lydia at all. Colonel F instantly became alarmed, and set off from Brighton with the intention of tracing their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no farther. At Clapham, they changed to a hackney-coach from the chaise that had brought them from Epsom. All that is known after this is that they were seen on the road to London. I know not what to think. After making every possible enquiry on that side of London, Colonel F came on into Hertfordshire. All along the way he anxiously asked for information of them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield. No such people had been seen to pass through. Finally he arrived at Longbourn, and told us of his apprehensions. His concern was a credit to his good and caring heart. I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs F, but no one can throw any blame on them.

  Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. Papa and Mama believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many circumstances might have made it more prudent for them to be married privately in town than to pursue their first plan. Even if his plan was not marriage, why would he choose Lydia? He has no hope of receiving money for her return, and it is difficult for me to accept her so lost to propriety and her reputation. Colonel F is not disposed to depend upon their marriage. He shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared Wickham was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill, and keeps to her room. And as to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has felt his anger for having concealed their attachment. Her defense is that it was a matter of confidence. I am truly glad you have been spared something of these distressing scenes. But I long for your return. I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it if inconvenient.

  Elizabeth was able to tell that there was a break in time before her sister continued the letter.

  I take up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would not. Circumstances are such that I cannot help begging the three of you to come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not afraid of requesting it. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster to try to discover her. What he means to do I am sure I know not. I fear his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way. Colonel Forster is obliged to be back in Brighton tomorrow evening. In such an emergency, my uncle's advice and assistance would be invaluable. Tell him immediately, and he will comprehend the gravity of the situation, and I rely upon his goodness.

  Elizabeth hurtled down the stairs, letters in hand, and out the door of the inn. Darcy saw her and her obvious distress, and followed her. "Oh, where, where is the home of Mr Hinton the bookseller? I must find my uncle."

  Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start. Before he could recover himself enough to speak, she began to express herself, once again, in a most agitated manner. Every thought was superseded by Lydia's situation, as she exclaimed, "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose."

  "Good God! Lizzy, what is the matter? Come back inside and sit. Let me… or a servant, go after your aunt and uncle. You are not well enough… you cannot go yourself."

  Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees threatened to buckle under her. His words made sense. She realized how little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. She re-entered the Inn and attempted to make a request of the proprietor, so breathlessly as to be almost unintelligible. She needed to send someone to Mr Hinton’s home to fetch Mr and Mrs Gardiner back to the Rose and Crown instantly. Mr Darcy repeated her request, and asked to be shown to a private parlour. Once in the room provided, he led her to a chair, and pushed her slightly to force her to sit.

  It was a good thing he took such action, as she was no longer able to support herself. She looked so miserable and he desperately wanted to find out what had happened, but felt it prudent to first look after her wellbeing. “Lizzy, let me call the maid. Is there nothing you could take for relief? Could I get you a glass of wine? You look quite ill."

  She endeavoured to overcome the results of her agony and sought to re-establish proper forms of address between them. “No, Mr Darcy, I thank you for your concern. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn." Her attempt at recovery was unsuccessful. She burst into tears as she considered the content of the letters.

  He wanted to hold her and comfort her as he had earlier, but knew it was not possible here. Her aunt and uncle could return at any moment. Instead, he decided to find out the caus
e of her outburst. Darcy sat on a bench near her chair, and took the letters from her shaking hand.

  Elizabeth seemed adverse to letting him read her correspondence. “My aunt and uncle would not approve.” Attempting to say more, she stopped and no other protest was heard.

  He needed to know what had rendered her helpless. As he read the letters, his heart sank. When he finished, the only thought he could articulate was, “This is grave… very grave, indeed.”

  When the Gardiners did arrive, she attempted to explain what had happened, but was still unable to make sense. Without even meeting his gaze, she took the letters from Will. Thrusting Jane’s letters into the hands of her uncle, all she perceived in the intervening minutes was that he seemed uninterested in her aunt and uncle’s conversation. He arose from the bench and began to walk up and down the room in earnest meditation, his brow contracted, and his air gloomy.

  Elizabeth observed, and instantly understood what had happened. Their wedding must be set aside under the proof of wantonness that both she and Lydia exhibited. Soon everyone would be talking of the Bennets, and Mr and Miss Darcy would need to distance themselves from such a disgraceful family.

  8

  THE FICKLE FINGERS OF FATE

  Fitzwilliam Darcy was wrestling with yet another dilemma. Their afternoon in the cottage should have ended his need to make further arrangements to ensure his happiness. Instead it seemed his life had, once again, been turned upside down by that lethal combination of Wickham’s treachery and his love for Elizabeth. He was determined to conquer this set back, as he struggled to formulate a foolproof plan.

  Instead of having dinner with his guests, he had retired to his room to think as soon as he had returned from the Rose and Crown. Nothing on the tray Mrs Reynolds had delivered held any appeal for him. It lay untouched on the table before him.