An audible gasp escaped her, one that caused even her very young cousins to take note.
“What is it, Lizzie? I hope Mr. Darcy is well.” her aunt questioned, worried at what could surprise and shock her niece so.
“It is nothing like that, Aunt. Mr. Darcy simply writes that he has left Netherfield and will travel to his estate to bring his sister to meet me here, in Gracechurch Street before the wedding. He has also,” she continued, her eyes briefly widening as she glanced at the letter again, “instructed his banker to issue promissory notes in his name.”
“And why is that shocking?” her aunt queried. Mrs. Gardiner had been told by her sister that there had been some sort of a disagreement between the betrothed couple, but she had not quite understood what the issue was. He was of course, a proud sort of man, but he had agreed to marry Lizzie with very little fuss that one might expect. Mrs. Gardiner gestured for her nieces to sit down, and then addressed her children. “Thomas, Eliza Jane, Phillip, I know that you are eager to see your cousins, but it is time for your mid-day walk with Mrs. Walters,” she stated, referring to the children’s nanny. “Afterwards, you shall be able to spend time with your cousins at dinner time. Run along and gather your coats and pelisse. I am sure Mrs. Walters is waiting.” When the children had gone, Mrs. Gardiner turned her full attention to her niece.
Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek. She did not wish to discuss it, although she knew it was best. “It is difficult to speak about, Aunt.”
“I understand that, Lizzie, yet it is a discussion that we must have.” was her aunt’s no nonsense reply.
Elizabeth inhaled heavily. “I am sure Mama has written to you that Mr. Darcy and I had a disagreement.” At her aunt’s encouraging nod, Elizabeth persisted, even though she could already feel the same knot of dread form within the pit of her belly, that had been present during the argument. “Our walk had begun pleasantly enough. There had been a young officer in the local militia who had taken it upon himself to accuse Mr. Darcy of dishonourable actions taken against him previously. I had found it suspicious that he would hold me hostage to such a conversation, and asked Mr. Darcy about him. Mr. Darcy explained that the officer had been his father’s godson, but after his father’s death he had turned quite badly.” Here she paused, not quite sure how to phrase the next part of what happened, “We began to speak of the wedding, and I mentioned that I wished to come to your home and shop for wedding clothes. That is when the argument began. He wanted me to stay with his aunt and uncle, the Earl and Countess of Matlock,” she began, exchanging a significant look with Mary, who had heard the entirety of the argument, “and when I told him I preferred to stay with those that I was familiar with, he---”
Elizabeth paused, almost overcome. She took a few calming breaths, hoping to soothe her nerves. Her hands, which had been clasped gently in her lap, tightened together. She met her aunt’s worried gaze. “He does not wish to have any sort of a relationship between our families. Mr. Darcy told me that after we were married, that I would not be able to receive any of my relations at his estate, and that if I visited, I would have to do so alone! When I told him I wanted my family to visit, he stated that he believed us to be of the same mind!” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Aunt. I cannot help but believe that it will only worsen after we are married.” Beside her, Jane took her hand gently, willing her to relax. She was in a safe space, surrounded by her sisters and aunt. She was safe; she was loved.
“I had this entirely different impression of Mr. Darcy, inside my head, before our engagement.” Elizabeth confessed. “When he had arrived in Meryton, he quickly showed himself to be the proudest, most arrogant man in the room. He was above his company. But when the rumours began, he did not try to leave or hide; he went straight to Papa. I was not happy about it, but I knew what must be done, if my sisters were to have a chance at making a match one day.” she ended, giving Jane a significant glance. “And so I believed I was wrong about him. I thought he would have protested or at least acted in the same manner as he had at our first meeting, but he had been nothing but kind and gentle.”
“There is no harm in admitting you were wrong, Lizzie.” her aunt gently reminded her.
“But I was not wrong, Aunt!” Elizabeth snapped, unable to help herself. A moment later, she apologised softly. “I did not believe Mr. Wickham’s tale, because I felt it too improper for him to be attempting to alarm me about Mr. Darcy’s character, when we were already in a town in which everyone hated him, and the circumstances of our engagement were less than...ideal.”
“And you have not spoken to him since your disagreement?”
Elizabeth admitted she had not. “Neither has he attempted to contact me, until this day.”
Mrs. Gardiner considered her niece for one long moment. “I understand that you are frightened, Lizzie. Marriage is not something to be something undertaken on a whim, and I am sorry that you are to marry under these circumstances, even to a man of Mr. Darcy’s wealth and stature. But I cannot help but caution you to be wary of being unable to be the first to apologise or reach out. Mr. Darcy was wrong to judge your family in this manner, and to place those expectations on you. However, the two of you are engaged and will be married sooner, rather than later. You cannot disobey your husband, but you may work to change his mind. His letter, it seems to me, is an olive branch. He says that he shall bring his sister to visit our home, perhaps he has realised his insensitivity?”
Elizabeth gave a half-hearted shrug. “Papa said that he would go and speak to him. I had not believed it to be any good, and Papa did not say anything about his visit.” She glanced back at the letter.
“Perhaps you were mistaken?” her aunt prodded gently.
“Perhaps.” Elizabeth conceded. “He is simply a mass of contradictions, Aunt. I do not know what to think anymore.”
“I believe, Lizzie, that you should focus on actions, rather than words. The both of you have your pride, and it is easy to say something that you may regret later, but even harder to change the attitude behind your words. I would argue, that Mr. Darcy’s intent is to change his attitude. He has promised to bring his sister to visit, in our home. That is a step in the right direction, is it not?” she asked her niece, her tone encouraging.
“It is, Aunt.” Elizabeth conceded. “But--”
“Do not worry about more than you can change, Lizzie. Especially when you do not have the full story. When Mr. Darcy arrives, the two of you should speak, so that you may be able to ascertain where the both of you stand in regards to each other. Your uncle spoke with your father before we left. I will admit that I am not happy with Mr. Darcy’s treatment of you, nor is your uncle, but he seems to be willing to admit his faults. His letter and intent are certainly proof of that.”
“Thank you, aunt,” Elizabeth responded, “I shall try. I admit it has been something that has weighed on my mind for several days now.”
“It is all right, Lizzie,” Jane murmured. “You must be at ease and unburden yourself. At least for a few days.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s gaze turned more serious. “Now that we are here in Gracechurch Street, I would ask about the circumstances of your engagement. If it is too much,” she hastened to add, “then we may speak of this later. I do not wish to overburden you, yet I do not think I should be left to fill in the blanks from your mother’s story.”
Here Elizabeth felt the need to confess. “You know the basic facts, I believe. Jane and I stayed in Netherfield, for about a week, and by the time we reached home, rumours had spread that Mr. Darcy and I had been caught in a delicate situation.” Having to recount this to her aunt, in front of her sisters, even though it was not true, was truly mortifying, and Elizabeth felt her entire face grow hot in response. “There were several versions of this story. Some say that I had forced myself upon Mr. Darcy, for some, it had been the other way around. Either way, the stories all said the same. Mr. Darcy has not questioned the source of the rumours, although Miss Bingley has.
”
“Miss Bingley?” her aunt repeated, questioningly. “She is the young lady staying with her brother, correct?”
“Yes, Aunt.” Surprisingly, it was Jane who confirmed this fact.
“I did not wish to say this at Longbourn, for I knew Mama would throw a fit, and Lydia and Kitty would mimic her behaviour but I believe it was Hattie who started the rumour.” Elizabeth confessed in a rush, more to her sisters.
“Hattie?” Mary repeated, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “Why do you believe this, Lizzie? Because her father refused to give ribbons to Lydia on credit?”
“I cannot believe it, Lizzie.” Jane responded. “Why did you not tell me of your suspicions?”
Elizabeth shook her head, in response to Mary’s question. “I ran into Hattie at Netherfield the morning we left. I do not know how long she has been working for them, but she behaved very oddly towards me. Very formal. I had believed that she thought she should act differently because we were in Netherfield, so it did not bother me overmuch. After I became engaged to Mr. Darcy, I have thought of her behaviour more and more. She is much like Lydia and Kitty, as they are the same ages, and perhaps she misinterpreted something. Either way, I did not wish to get her into trouble, and what’s done is done. It would not stop the townspeople from spreading any of the variations of the rumour they’d heard.”
“That is wise, Lizzie.” her aunt said approvingly. “Perhaps now she has learned the ramifications of such talk, and will be hesitant to participate in the future. Either way, I believe that you must look to the future. It does not do to dwell.”
Silence reigned for a few minutes, as the Bennet sisters and Mrs. Gardiner served themselves tea and cucumber sandwiches.
A few moments after she had finished eating, Mrs. Gardiner turned to Mary who was disinterestedly nibbling on a sandwich.
“You shall have to catch me up on the gossip, Mary. Am I to understand that the young man that Lizzie’s friend is to marry, first proposed to you?”
Mary coughed in response, and nearly shoved the miniature sandwich into her mouth at her aunt’s question. She looked to Jane and Elizabeth for help, they offered nothing but encouraging expressions, but were awaiting her response.
“That is correct, Aunt.” Mary began nervously, although she did not know why she felt that way. She had merely refused a proposal, that was all! “I suppose he felt the need to go back to his patroness with a betrothed, for he did little else but speak of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I did not think it becoming behaviour of a clergyman! He spoke of her as though she were above the Almighty.” Mary sniffed, still rather indignant that such a man believed she would be impressed by his status as a clergyman for some unknown titled woman.
Mrs. Gardiner chuckled somewhat uneasily. “Hopefully Miss Lucas will be able to handle him. She does not seem like she is easily impressed. Nor you.”
At the mention of her friend, Elizabeth felt a wave of sorrow. She understood too well why Charlotte had accepted Mr. Collins’ proposal, and although her friend was not romantic she wished her friend’s outcome had been better. She wished she did not have to have to decide between staying a burden to her family, and marrying an ignorant fool.
“I hope Charlotte shall be happy, although I believe she is the only woman who is equipped to marry Mr. Collins.” Elizabeth finally said. “I just wish she did not have to.”
“Each choice comes with good and bad, Lizzie. It may surprise you to know that I too had my doubts about marrying your uncle.” their aunt revealed.
“How so, aunt?” This was surprising news to them all.
Mrs. Gardiner waved their concerns away. “They were not serious doubts; I had known your uncle for many years because he and my late brother,” her brother had died at the age of twenty-three, when his ship had crashed while making his way to the Americas, “had been friends at their boarding school. Mr. Gardiner always came for the summer and winter breaks, and although we did not spend a significant amount of time together, I had always been assured of his character and regard for my family. When he proposed,” she began significantly, “I had been nursing a broken heart. The man I believed would soon offer to pay court to me, had become engaged to a young woman in the next town over. I was still hurting, when Mr. Gardiner proposed, as I knew that I wished to be married with children, but had no other prospects. My dowry was not very large, you see.” Mrs. Gardiner added. “So when your uncle came along, I had to make a choice. I had never thought of him in a passionate way, but I knew there was potential for something more. I decided to follow that feeling.”
“How long did it take for you to feel that, Aunt?” Elizabeth asked, hoping to glean as much insight as she could about this unexpected occurrence within her aunt’s marriage.
“One does not fall in love because of how fashionable a man dresses or how luxurious his barouche is laid out. It is a series of small occurrences. My trepidations about the marriage were eradicated when your uncle had shown me the depth of his affection. How your uncle made sure to instruct his cook as to my preferences before we were married, for instance. Even now, every morning he always saves me the lemon flavored scones, because he knows that they are my favourite. It took me some time,” she continued, “but I could not help but realize that this was how a gentleman should treat a woman, and everything that I knew of your uncle came into perfect clarity. My previous infatuation was suddenly a pale imitation for what I felt for your uncle. What I had always felt, I suppose.”
“I do not know if I shall ever be able to get to that point, Aunt.” Elizabeth confessed. “Mr. Darcy and I have little in common, and do not even have mutual respect between us.”
“Perhaps,” was her aunt’s reply, “perhaps not. His letter goes a long way in that regard. Do not write him off so quickly. You cannot afford to do so, in any case. Wait until his visit to make judgements. Now let us speak of more pleasanter subjects, such as the modistes that we shall visit. I do believe we will be able to purchase the fabric for your wedding clothes at our warehouse, as there is nothing to be gained in wasting money on overpriced material from the modiste.”
Elizabeth listened with half an ear, as her aunt began to speak more of the fashionable modistes whose clientele included duchesses and countesses, unable to replay the entirety of their conversation within her mind. She did not know if she could follow her aunt’s advice, for already she was tired of being the one to bow to Mr. Darcy’s whims.
***
After dinner, when the children had gone to bed, and Elizabeth and Jane were within their room, it was then that they began to compose letters.
Firstly, to their parents, informing them that they had arrived safely, and other little tidbits. Between the two of them, they had decided that Jane should write to Miss Bingley, informing her that they were in London for shopping, and Elizabeth would write to Mrs. Hurst, giving her the Gardiner’s address and convenient times to call. Still, Elizabeth could scarcely believe that Mrs. Hurst was going behind her sister’s back in writing them, but did not choose to discount their luck. If it meant that Jane could be with the man she loved, she did not care how they proceeded to the finish line.
***
Gently opening the door, Louisa grasped the tray steadily. Over the past two years that she had been married, she had become quite adept at opening doors one handed. Of course, she had only begun to do so a year into the marriage, but it counted for something.
The tray contained her husband’s favourites--small ham and cheese sandwiches, as well as the oddly flavored pickled egg and tomato--along with coffee and a small snifter of brandy to add to it.
Mr. Hurst was seated in the small sitting room he had refashioned into a study, surrounded by books and papers as he always was. When they had married, Louisa had been brusquely informed that her dowry would be used for investment monies, as his father had bankrupted every property they owned, besides the townhouse, which was being rented out, and had been for the entire three years it had been in M
r. Hurst’s possession.
Settling the tray down on the small table near his desk, Louisa had murmured a quiet, “good night”, as she always did, and went to leave the room. Generally, Mr. Hurst would grumble a quiet acknowledgement, while not taking his eyes from what he was reading. Tonight, however, he surprised her, and she had not known that she was still able to feel the sensation.
“Louisa.” His voice was gruff, as he had not spoken in several hours, and rarely to her.
She stopped, and looked at him, but did not say anything.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, gesturing to the tray that she had placed near him. His gaze met hers for a moment, and then dropped back to his papers.
Louisa swallowed lowly. She would not fall to pieces over the scrap of affection he had provided, although it was difficult.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Hurst. Good evening.” she replied, when she felt that her voice would not tremble.
“Good night.”
Behind her, Louisa gently closed the door, but did not move from it. What had prompted that change? She would not get her hopes up, but hopefully, it was the first step towards she and Mr. Hurst living together as something more than inhabitants within the same house.
Consequence of Jealousy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 14
