Consequence of Jealousy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Aubrey Anderson

  Caroline sensed this was the last time she would be able to put Miss Eliza in her place, before they were to leave this wretched place for good. She and her scheming sisters. Knowing what little she knew of the Bennets’ past, she could only imagine that this was the closest that any of them had come to enacting and carrying out their schemes. She had stopped them, and they would soon pray for the Bingleys to leave their sad, pathetic backwoods town.

  And she knew just how to do so.

  “I wonder, Miss Eliza,” she began, her eyes shining in pleasure as she realised her address had startled Miss Eliza, “if you and your sisters are bearing the deprivation well.”

  Miss Eliza turned to her, confusion evident. Caroline smiled at her bewilderment. Well, she would soon be enlightened.

  Caroline would show her the error of her ways, and would do so with delight.

  “I understand,” she began slyly, her gaze flitting back to Mr. Darcy, “that you had found the company of a Mr. Wickham to be particularly enjoyable.” Ah, there was the reaction that she had hoped for! Ever since she had returned from Cheapside, Miss Eliza had been flitting about like a ghost, wishing everyone to feel sorry for her. For the situation that she had created and implicated poor Mr. Darcy! At her words, Miss Eliza had turned as red as the rubies Caroline wore. Mr. Darcy stepped forward, and Caroline felt herself grow warm from the support he showed.

  Emboldened, Caroline continued. Especially as Miss Eliza could not help but glance to and from Mr. Darcy, Miss Mary, and Caroline herself. She smiled smugly. Mr. Darcy would not come to her rescue, and Miss Mary was not immune to the truth because she was in Georgiana Darcy’s presence.

  “It is quite unfortunate that that Mr. Wickham was discharged from his unit,” she cooed sympathetically, her eyes sharp to catch Miss Eliza’s reaction. “I do hope that you and your sisters,” here she paused to glance back at the offenders, of whom she was glad to see were paying attention to her speech, “have born the deprivation tolerably well. I would hate for your family to suffer so. Especially yourself and your younger sisters. It is so difficult for a favourite to suddenly depart!” she murmured in false sympathy.

  Miss Eliza glanced back at her sister Mary, perhaps hoping that she would regain her composure, for there was still a hint of blush on her cheeks. She smiled thinly. “It is a wonder, Miss Bingley, that you can bear it. I must commend you, for I doubt I would have been able to serve as hostess under such circumstances.”

  Caroline’s smile dropped. “I beg your pardon, Miss Eliza?” For an instant, she felt nothing but fear and bewilderment, even though she did not have any reason to feel such things, but quickly worked out Miss Eliza’s little game of confusion and manipulation. “I have had no acquaintance with Mr. Wickham.”

  “Indeed you must have, Miss Bingley!” Miss Eliza’s smile was bright and false. Caroline did not like it. “I had hardly been aware that Mr. Wickham had been transferred out of his regiment, given that I had only met him once, and had soon left for London, but it seems you have kept track of his comings and goings a great deal. I had not imagined that you were at all interested in soldiers of Mr. Wickham’s social status.”

  Caroline opened her mouth to respond, but Miss Eliza had already walked off. To Caroline’s displeasure, she had gone to Georgiana and actually placed an arm about her. How dare she! As though she were so familiar with Georgiana Darcy!

  Caroline glanced back at Mr. Darcy. He was smiling! Why had he----.

  She could not finish her thoughts.

  Caroline stood, intent on forcing Miss Eliza to listen to her by any means necessary, when Charles was suddenly there.

  “Caroline,” he seemed to speak in a hushed tone, and she did not understand his need for secrecy, “I would like to speak to you in private, if you will.”

  Caroline opened her mouth to protest, to call upon Mr. Darcy to defend her, as she was sure he was only waiting for her leave, when she locked eyes with him.

  He did nothing to hold her gaze, and instead crossed over to the side of the room to speak to the tradespeople. The Gardiners! She had forgotten they were there, as they blessedly possessed a thimble full more of self-possession than the Bennets.

  He did not look back for her, as Charles quietly led her away, and neither did anyone else in the room. Not even Georgiana.

  Why was she upset?

  Caroline wished to question, but Charles was insistent, and she would not cause a scene, as Miss Eliza did.

  “What is it Charles?” she whispered furiously, when they were finally outside the room. He did not answer her, his gaze still caught to the door, and she realised he was waiting for Louisa.

  And Mr. Hurst?

  When had Louisa received that necklace, she suddenly wondered, as she could not ever remember seeing Louisa wearing it before. It was a rather elegant piece, with large and gleaming emeralds set into a delicate weave of gold.

  “I demand to know what is going on!”

  As Charles stepped forward, his expression grim, she began to laugh, for she could not believe it.

  She would not.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Elizabeth supposed that being reassured by Louisa that her sister would not be invited to her wedding or luncheon, as Mr. Bingley had packed her off to London the moment their dinner party had ended, was meant to be reassuring.

  Of what?

  In two days, she would still marry a man of whom she was rumoured to have forced herself upon, or the other way around, as some said. Whether or not Miss Bingley was present at the actual wedding was irrelevant--the outcome would remain the same.

  She was strangely content with that answer. As Miss Bingley had worked out almost immediately, she and her family would be gaining a wealth of resources and connections that they would not have had before. The marriage had not even occurred yet, and she had already gained so much. A new sister, for one. Elizabeth truly had not cared when Miss Bingley had spewed her vileness, as she had hardly considered that the woman would be a significant part of her life moving forward, but she had worried for Georgiana.

  And Mr. Darcy.

  Not of what he would think of Miss Bingley’s diatribe and clumsy attempt at connecting Elizabeth and her two youngest sisters with a rogue of the highest order, but more of his feelings. She had sensed embarrassment from him, once she had known where to look, more than a few occasions after he had confessed his true feelings for her. Miss Bingley’s choice of topic had been inspired, in that manner. She knew what it was to feel embarrassment, and hope that the feeling was not evident in your manner or comportment directly after. Even in their small town, where she had known everyone all her life, she still had suffered embarrassment every time Lydia or Kitty shouted across the room for Mary to play something more jolly, or ran about the ballroom with a glove or sword that they had taken from a shy, enamoured officer.

  Her first social outing, after she had become engaged to Mr. Darcy. How everyone had stared and whispered, but few were willing to speak directly to her.

  She didn’t want him to feel embarrassed. Even if no one else could sense it, or the reason behind it--she hated it.

  Was that a sign of love, she wondered as she stretched her legs out slightly. Jane was snuggled quite close to her back, fast asleep. Elizabeth had not been able to go to sleep for the past few nights, ever since the dinner party, as she tried to work it out in her head.

  She felt something for him, she knew that, but was unused to admitting it out loud. A novel concept for her. While she had never been particularly loud or boisterous, Elizabeth had never been unafraid to speak her mind, even if it was only to herself.

  She hadn’t done that since the disagreement with Mr. Darcy. Even after he had set about making everything right, altering his behaviour for her benefit, she still could barely stand to look at him some days. Perhaps because she could barely stand to look at herself on those same days.

  Mr. Darcy had once made a comment that upset her mama infamously. He had r
emarked, during their first visit to Netherfield that society in the country was less varied than in Town. Everyone knew everyone, and it only took one incident for them to spread word of the person they knew.

  Elizabeth had done it; Mr. Darcy had done it.

  And yet he had changed, for the better.

  Had she?

  She could hardly believe that he still loved her, simply because she could hardly believe that he could tolerate anything less than strength of character and moral conviction. Her Aunt Gardiner had both in spades. The knowledge that her aunt had married her uncle when she had not loved him, but another, and had the strength to find love and happiness, without any moping or self-pitying.

  Elizabeth slipped from bed. She needed to clear her head, to stop thinking. It would be over soon, and she would have her answer.

  Or perhaps not. Her father’s reproach of Mr. Darcy’s character, as well as her own, had worked wonders. They both found fulfillment in their relationship with Georgiana. They could live together, and continue as they did now. A better version of the origins of the Hurst marriage, for at least she and Mr. Darcy had some measure of respect for each other.

  She quickly dressed, sure that a few of the buttons had been mishandled, but she did not care. She doubted she would meet Lady Catherine on the road.

  ***

  Stepping into the biting air, Elizabeth savoured the first lungfuls she inhaled. She felt energized a and full of life, as she always did in the perfect mornings such as this. The sun had barely begun to come up, and she could tell that it promised to be a beautiful day.

  Two days to go.

  In two days, she would not be Elizabeth Bennet, but Elizabeth Darcy.

  ***

  Elizabeth wondered if she should turn back. Georgiana had promised to wake up early and join them for breakfast at Longbourn, knowing that Elizabeth and the rest of the Bennet family kept country hours. Mr. Darcy had, of course, offered to escort her from Netherfield, in the carriage. Even though Mr. Wickham was gone, he was still protective. And Georgiana’s presence helped Elizabeth. Her mama had stopped asking rather pointed questions about Mr. Darcy and his habits and relationship with Elizabeth, once she started bringing Georgiana over to Longbourn for visits, and to stay the night. That, combined with Mr. Darcy’s rapid signature to the papers, had caused her mama to keep her mouth shut with any serious questions. She was, of course, Elizabeth’s mother, and that would never change--but she had gained an edge of discretion that Elizabeth needed, if she was to remain sane.

  Her walk continued well, as it always did, and suddenly Elizabeth found herself in front of Netherfield.

  She didn’t know whether she should stay or go. Should she go inside and announce her presence? Or pretend to herself as though she had never stepped foot on Netherfield’s property, on this day, and was merely lost?

  Elizabeth did not have long to decide as the moment she rounded a tree, she suddenly came face to face with Mr. Darcy.

  “Mr. Darcy!” she gasped, and then composed herself. He was not a demon from hell meant to attack her. He was her betrothed. He had shown her over and over again that he was honourable. She swallowed her question as to what he was doing out on the grounds of Netherfield so early in the morning.

  What was she doing so early on the grounds of Netherfield? Time would tell, she decided.

  “Would you walk with me?” the offer came from her lips before she could think about it and her intent.

  Mr. Darcy accepted.

  “Would you like to walk around the garden a for a while?” he asked. “That is my usual spot, especially after Charles has made it enough bit of an oasis. At least compared to the rest of the estate.”

  Elizabeth agreed, and that was where they set off. She had enjoyed walking about the gardens during her original visit to Netherfield while Jane was sick, although she had been very surprised to see them in such a state. The previous owner of Netherfield, while in dereliction of duty regarding the garden outside, had made up for it with the indoor greenhouse.

  “I wanted to thank you, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy’s serious voice cut through the cool, morning air.

  She looked at him in surprise. “For what Mr. Darcy?” she queried, genuinely curious.

  “You managed to do something that I have not done in a very long time.”

  “Which is?”

  “Reassure my sister. Due to her experiences with Mr. Wickham, she had little desire to to expose herself to much of anything that did not involve the pianoforte or books. While I knew for both our sakes that it was best if Georgiana join us here, as well as her own,” he said, briefly hinting at the results of Miss Bingley’s letter to Georgiana, “I feared the new environment would cause her to retreat. My previous attempts at expanding Georgiana’s social circle had not gone well.” He gave a short chuckle in remembrance. “I attempted, on some rather short notice, a house party at Pemberley, with the Bingleys and Hurst's as guests.” At that, Elizabeth could not help but laugh. She couldn’t imagine any sort of gathering at Pemberley without Miss Bingley’s forceful suggestions.

  Her small laugh morphed into something more, as she could not help herself, and she felt the question before he had even said it. “You are lucky that you did not have enough time to prepare, otherwise I think you would have wound up with an entirely new ballroom and furniture, courtesy of Miss Bingley.”

  Mr. Darcy joined her in her amusement, even as he playfully admonished her. “We should not be laughing about this, Miss Elizabeth.” he started, attempting to sound stern, but even failing in that. “It is a serious matter.” he tried again, his lips twitching. “You jest, but she tried to convince me to repaint the main parlour a more soothing colour. I had no idea pale yellow was a shock to the senses.”

  Elizabeth could not help but burst into laughter.

  After a few more minutes of walking, their amusement faded naturally, but this time left them in a comfortable silence that Elizabeth enjoyed.

  When he spoke again, his tone was now serious. “I truly must thank you, Miss Elizabeth. You and your family. Seeing Georgiana with your mother, makes me remember of all the experiences she did not get to have with our own mother and father. It has left a deeper mark on her than I had previously assumed. I must thank you for allowing me to see how wrong I was.”

  Elizabeth knew that he loved her; his every action after her condemnation of him had proved that fact. Some days, while he watched her and Georgiana, she felt a warmth, as he clearly approved of their companionship. Those days, she felt worthy of praise. She had become a friend to Georgiana, and had done her best to nurture her while at Longbourn.

  But while they were together, she could not help but feel unworthy and unessential. Her father had been the catalyst for the change that occurred in Mr. Darcy, while she did her best to get through each of the coming days.

  “I wish I was worthy your praise, Mr. Darcy.” she replied ruefully, peeking from the corner of her eye at his reaction.

  “Why can you not?” was his inquiry to her.

  Elizabeth resisted the urge to shrug her shoulders as an answer. She knew why. Now she had to find the words for it, and relay that to Mr. Darcy in a manner that did not offend. Herself or him, she did not know.

  “I simply cannot help but have my doubts regarding your praise of my character. I do not know if you have seen all of me; how I truly am.” she replied shortly. Once he had, she feared every drop of care would disappear. His hand hesitantly reached out, as they bended a turn in the garden, and she accepted it easily.

  Their wedding was in two days.

  “It has been your actions, which have led us to this point, Miss Elizabeth.” he pointed out carefully. “Had you not expressed your honest feelings, had not your father taken the time to reprimand me, I fear that we would not be here, together in this attitude.”

  “It was of necessity, yet that is not what I speak of. I did not speak against you entirely out of fear, Mr. Darcy.” she confessed candidl
y, “I challenged you because I was angry at having forced myself to change my mind about your character. In that moment,” she stated, her tone going far away from herself, “it was as though we were back at the Assembly on that first night, and you had deemed me tolerable all over again.”

  To her surprise, Mr. Darcy blushed shamefully. “I must apologise for that remark, Miss Elizabeth. I had not been in the best of moods when we arrived, and my frustration was taken out on you.”

  “That is not the point, Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth found herself getting frustrated at his behaviour. She turned to him, intent on meeting him face to face. He was shocked at her abrupt change in manner, so she forced herself to relax, as she did not wish to be perceived as hysterical. It had taken her many hours of inner contemplation to reach this point, and she would not sully it. “I would have believed Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy.” she confided in him quietly. “If we had not been forced to become engaged, if you had behaved in an ungentlemanly manner regarding the engagement. I would have believed Mr. Wickham. It was your gentlemanly behaviour, coupled with my self-pity that allowed me to question his story, when before I do not believe I would have. I was angry and afraid, and I did not appreciate his attempts to make me feel unsafe.” she finished calmly. She knew then what she must say. “I have felt the need to apologise for my behaviour, ever since our last conversation,” she began, referencing to his confession of love for her, “but I felt that I could not apologise, if my manner was to remain the same.”