Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 4

by Jennifer Lang

  ‘Miss Bennet, I must break with decorum and speak to you plainly, for I love my cousin dearly and she is worried about her brother. And now I must speak very plainly indeed, for I know that Mr Darcy proposed to you last Easter and was rejected.’

  Elizabeth broke out in shock, ‘This is plain speaking indeed!’

  ‘I know, and I apologise for it.’

  ‘How came you by this information? Did Miss Darcy tell you?’

  ‘No. Miss Darcy does not know of it. Mr Darcy told me himself.’

  ‘Mr Darcy!’ exclaimed Elizabeth in horror. ‘I cannot believe it. He is too much of a gentleman to tell anyone of this private affair.’

  Anne smiled.

  ‘I am glad you think so well of him, and you are right to do so. He told me in the strictest confidence, and he only told me because he made it known, to me and all my family, that he did not intend to marry me. I believe you know that our mothers decided we would marry when we were in our cradles, and our family approved the idea. Among out kind of people, such things are not uncommon. Marriages are not love matches in our world, they are unions of fortunes and estates. But Mr Darcy did not wish for such a marriage. When he was younger, I believe he thought he might as well marry me as anyone else, but when he fell in love with you he knew it was impossible. He gave our family a vague reason for not marrying me, but he felt he owed me the real reason since I might otherwise feel insulted and demeaned by his rejection of me.’ Her face softened. ‘My cousin was not always so sensitive to other people’s feelings. It is knowing you that has changed him in this way – changed him for the better.’

  Elizabeth walked on in silence, trying to take it all in. Her footsteps crunched on the crisp snow as she walked.

  Then she said, ‘Why are you telling me all this? It seems most unnecessary.’

  ‘I am telling you because Miss Darcy is very worried about her brother, and I think you should know. But I could not very well tell you about the intimate Darcy matters without revealing to you that I understood the close relationship between you and Mr Darcy.’

  ‘I see,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘Mr Darcy has sunk into a terrible gloom from which he cannot emerge. His investments have failed and there has been a fire at Pemberley.’

  ‘How terrible!’ cried Elizabeth. ‘Was anyone hurt?’

  ‘Thankfully, no. But he cannot afford the repairs. I would not be telling you this if you were not so intimately connected with him, for I think you still like him?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Elizabeth. ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘I thought so, for when I mentioned him, you blushed.’

  ‘I hoped you would not see that,’ admitted Elizabeth ruefully.

  ‘I was watching you closely,’ said Anne. ‘I had to know, you see, whether I should proceed. If you were indifferent to Mr Darcy then it would have been wrong of me to do so. I could only justify telling you if you were still in love with him.’ She added softly, ‘I think you are?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Elizabeth. ‘But I do not think he is in love with me.’

  ‘You are wrong,’ said Anne.

  ‘He is his own master,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He could have visited me at Longbourn if he had wished to do so, but my sister’s disgrace has given him a disgust of my family – of me – that is too strong to overcome.’

  ‘He did not visit you because he did not feel worthy,’ said Anne. ‘You made him question his pride and his conceit, and when he looked at himself with new eyes he found himself wanting. He does not think he is good enough for you.’

  ‘Oh, but surely, that cannot be true!’ cried Elizabeth.

  ‘If this new disaster had not overtaken him then I am sure he would have soon realised that he must take the risk of another rejection and go to see you, for he has taken steps to correct his character and is now a much better man. But the loss of his fortune makes him feel unworthy of you in worldly terms. He owns land, of course, but he cannot sell it, for it is bound to the estate. He owns the house, but he does not have the money to keep it in good repair. He fears he might have to sell the estate.’

  ‘Sell Pemberley?’ cried Elizabeth in horror. ‘But he loves it.’

  ‘Yes. He does. It is where he was born and where he was raised. It has all the happy memories of his childhood when his parents were alive. But he will have to sell it nonetheless.’

  ‘Oh, poor, poor Mr Darcy!’ cried Elizabeth in sympathy.

  ‘Poor indeed,’ said Miss Anne de Bourgh. ‘He will not be penniless, but he will no longer be the master of a vast estate. Could you marry a poor man?’

  ‘I could if I truly loved him,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘And do you truly love my cousin?’ asked Anne.

  ‘Yes,’ Elizabeth admitted. ‘I do. But how can I help him?’

  ‘You could go to him if you wanted. Miss Darcy will invite you to Pemberley as her friend if I ask her to. Once you are at Pemberley, the rest will follow.’

  ‘I will go as soon as I am invited,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘And I will go with you,’ said Anne. ‘My cousin will need all his friends about him, to help him through this difficult time. If you go to Pemberley from Rosings, then I can give you a lift in my carriage.’

  The two ladies began to walk on. They lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Anne was hoping that her cousin could be lifted out of his gloom, and Elizabeth was thinking, with a palpitating heart, that before very long she would be seeing Mr Darcy again.

  Once they reached Rosings, Anne invited Elizabeth inside. Elizabeth politely declined, for she had no wish to see Lady Catherine. Anne then offered Elizabeth the de Bourgh carriage for her return journey, but again Elizabeth declined. The two young ladies parted in friendship, Anne to return to her home and Elizabeth to return to the parsonage.

  Charlotte was still busy with her domestic business when Elizabeth returned, so Elizabeth went to her room, where she decided to write to her sister, Jane. The two of them shared everything and Jane knew Elizabeth’s full history with Mr Darcy. Jane was of a sweet and forgiving nature, and she had forgiven Mr Darcy for trying to persuade Mr Bingley not to marry her, though there was still some coolness between the two gentlemen. But Elizabeth had no qualms about sharing this latest news with her sister.

  It did her good to pour out her heart, and to tell Jane that she intended to spend Christmas at Pemberley. Then, her letter finished, she sanded it and sealed it before walking out for the third time that day, to take it to the post office. That done, she joined her hosts for luncheon at the parsonage.

  Mr Collins was impressed that Miss Anne de Bourgh had asked her to walk her back to Rosings.

  ‘So kind, so affable, so condescending,’ he said with a beaming smile, rubbing his hands together. ‘Miss Anne de Bourgh is everything that is gracious. In that, she is like her glorious mother, Lady Catherine.’

  Charlotte wisely pretended not to hear his fulsome effusions, and Elizabeth merely smiled politely, for she did not want to cause Charlotte further distress by giving him a set-down or making a mischievous reply. She wondered, once she was alone with Charlotte that afternoon, whether she should mention any part of her conversation with Anne, but decided against it. Charlotte would know everything she needed to know when Miss Darcy’s invitation arrived, for that is when Elizabeth had decided she would announce her intention of going to Pemberley for Christmas.

  Chapter Four

  Mrs Jane Bingley counted her blessings every morning, for she thought herself the luckiest woman alive. She had fallen in love with her dear Mr Bingley the previous year, and after some troubles along the way she had finally married him a few weeks ago, so that now she was the mistress of Netherfield Park and she was Mr Bingley’s beloved wife.

  She hummed a Christmas carol as she went down to breakfast and she breathed in deeply when she entered the dining-room, for the pine branches on the mantelpiece were letting out their fresh scent. She had painted the fir cones, adorning them with a sm
attering of white paint, so that they resembled the snow-coated cones which decorated the branches of the snow-coated trees outside.

  Mr Bingley was already in the dining-room but he had not started to eat. Although it was the custom for hot food to be placed under covers on the sideboard at breakfast, Jane had decided that, as there were only the two of them, they would have their breakfast freshly cooked when they descended for breakfast together.

  Mr Bingley rose from his chair and kissed his wife on the cheek.

  ‘You are looking lovelier than ever this morning, Jane. Upon my word you are,’ he said in his good-natured manner.

  Jane smiled and accepted the compliment very prettily, then the two of them sat down at the table. The footmen brought steak and eggs for Mr Bingley, and hot rolls with chocolate to drink for Jane. As they ate, Mr Bingley looked through the morning mail, which had been handed to him on a salver.

  ‘There is a letter for you,’ he said, handing it to Jane.

  ‘Oh! It is from Lizzy,’ she said with pleasure, as she saw the handwriting.

  She unfolded the letter and began to read.

  ‘What news from Rosings?’ asked Mr Bingley. ‘Is Elizabeth enjoying herself in Kent?’

  Jane did not at once reply. She was engrossed in her letter and did not want to stop reading. When she finished the letter she looked round to make sure the footmen had left the room, for she did not want the contents of the letter to become public knowledge. Once she had made sure that she and her husband were alone, she said. ‘There is some bad news.’

  ‘She is not ill, I hope?’ asked Mr Bingley in concern.

  ‘No. Elizabeth is well. But she has heard some worrying news about Mr Darcy.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Mr Bingley’s usual jovial smile faded from his face.

  ‘I know he tried to part us, and I know it was wrong of him,’ said Jane, ‘but we are married now and it is time to forgive him.’

  ‘I have forgiven him,’ said Mr Bingley. ‘I am not one to bear a grudge. But he did not accept my invitation to our wedding and that must mean he does not want to see me.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t he want to see you? You have done him no harm,’ said Jane.

  ‘But he did me harm, and he feels it,’ said Mr Bingley.

  ‘Are you sure that is the reason?’ asked Jane. ‘Do you not think he might have been hurt when you did not ask him to stand up with you at our wedding?’

  ‘But I always meant to ask my brother!’ said Mr Bingley. ‘I am sure Darcy knows that.’

  ‘Are you? He has been your friend for a very long time,’ Jane pointed out. ‘Are you sure he did not expect it?’

  ‘Upon my honour, that thought had never occurred to me,’ said Mr Bingley. ‘Do you think he felt slighted?’

  ‘I think it is possible,’ said Jane.

  ‘Then after Christmas I must do something about it,’ said Mr Bingley.

  ‘I think you should do something about it before Christmas,’ said Jane with unusual firmness.

  ‘Upon my honour, he will not thank me for it. He will be spending Christmas at Pemberley with all his friends and family. He will be busy until the festive season is over. But I will write to him in January and invite him to Netherfield Park.’

  ‘You are wrong about his Christmas,’ said Jane.

  And then she told Mr Bingley everything that was in her sister’s letter.

  Mr Bingley’s face fell further and further as he listened to Jane and then he said, ‘We must do something. Darcy has been my friend since childhood and I will not stand by and let him suffer this alone. But he is a proud man. What can I do to help?’

  ‘I think we should go to Derbyshire,’ said Jane. ‘We can stay at the inn at Lambton. I have been longing to see it ever since Lizzy told me all about it last spring. She stayed there with my aunt and uncle on their tour of Derbyshire and she says it is very pretty. Once we are in Derbyshire, it will be easier for us to see how to help, and with Lizzy staying at Pemberley we will be able to learn exactly what is needed.’

  ‘Upon my honour, the very thing,’ said Mr Bingley. ‘You will not miss having Christmas at Netherfield Park? I know we have not invited anyone, and so there are no guests to worry about, but even so, you were looking forward to your first Christmas in your own home – our own home,’ he said proudly.

  ‘Yes. I was looking forward to it, but we are needed in Derbyshire and I will be just as happy celebrating Christmas at the inn at Lambton, as long as you are there. Your friend needs you and at Christmas, of all times, you must be there to help him.’

  Chapter Five

  A letter from Miss Georgiana Darcy, inviting Miss Elizabeth Bennet to spend Christmas at Pemberley, arrived at Hunsford parsonage two days later.

  Charlotte looked at Elizabeth meaningfully as Elizabeth told her about the invitation.

  ‘It is as I thought, Lizzy,’ said Charlotte. ‘Mr Darcy admires you.’

  ‘Mr Darcy has not invited me to Pemberley,’ Elizabeth pointed out. ‘It is Georgiana who has invited me.’

  ‘But she must have done so with her brother’s permission. As you have met her only briefly and hardly know her, it must have been at his behest.’

  ‘You are reading too much into it, Charlotte. Miss Darcy does not know many young ladies and so it is not so strange that she would invite me for Christmas. My aunt lived in Derbyshire when she was younger, remember, and when I met Miss Darcy in the early summer, I was with my aunt and uncle, so Miss Darcy values me for my connection to Derbyshire as well as my suitability as regards age. She has to rely on Miss Bingley for much of her company and I dare say she would like a change.’

  ‘There is something in what you say. Miss Bingley is not a congenial companion and if Miss Darcy met you in company with people who used to live in her own neighbourhood then I can see why she might like to further her acquaintance with you. But you should not overlook the fact that this invitation will throw you into company with Mr Darcy, and that can only be a good thing. I am sure he likes you, Lizzy. This will be a chance for you to know him better, and for him to be reminded of all the things he likes about you. He has a lot to offer, and I do not think it impossible that he will ask you to be his wife – or, at least, that he might ask you, if you give him some encouragement.’

  Oh, Charlotte, how little you know! thought Elizabeth. Mr Darcy has nothing to offer; or, at least, not in the way you mean it. His fortune is gone. His very house is under threat and he may yet lose it.

  But she did not say any of these things, for she did not want to spread the news.

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sight of Mr Collins walking past the window. Despite the snow on the ground, Charlotte still encouraged him to take an interest in the garden, for it gave her some respite from his company, and he was returning with arms full of holly. The bright green leaves, with their spiky points and their glistening red berries, showed up brightly against his black clothes.

  He entered the sitting room and deposited the holly on the table. Charlotte sprang up and removed it instantly, so that the sharp leaves should not scratch the table.

  ‘Elizabeth has some news that I think will interest you,’ said Charlotte, as she began to cut the holly into more sensibly sized pieces and tuck it behind the pictures hanging on the wall. ‘She has been invited to Pemberley for Christmas.’

  Mr Collins looked at Elizabeth with reverent awe.

  ‘This is indeed a great honour, cousin Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘To what do you owe this magnificent invitation?’

  ‘Elizabeth was acquainted with Mr Darcy in Hertfordshire,’ said Charlotte.

  ‘Oh, how well I remember it!’ said Mr Collins with an ingratiating smile. ‘I had the honour to introduce myself to Mr Darcy at the Netherfield ball. A charming gentleman, full of condescension. I had the honour of telling him that his aunt, Lady Catherine, was well, and he thanked me with a gracious nod of his head.’

  Elizabeth remembered the meeting with a mix
ture of horror and humour. It had been dreadful to see Mr Collins toadying to Mr Darcy, and she had been humiliated to see one of her relatives exposing his servility to such an acute observer as Mr Darcy. But Elizabeth loved to laugh, and there had been great humour in the situation as well, because, for all his stupidity, Mr Collins was a very funny man, even if he did not intend to be funny!

  ‘It is very kind of him to remember your meeting and honour you with an invitation,’ said Mr Collins. ‘Such an invitation might surprise other people, but I have seen so many examples of noble condescension from the Darcy family – including Mr Darcy’s own aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh – that I am not surprised.’

  He spoke so reverently that anyone might think he was talking about the king! But Elizabeth was grateful for one thing, at least: that Mr Collins was not surprised at the invitation. He did not even need to hear that it had come from Miss Darcy, instead of Mr Darcy, but Elizabeth informed him anyway, for if he spoke of the incident she did not want any gossip to spread.

  ‘Just so,’ said Mr Collins. ‘Elegantly managed. A superior female such as Miss Darcy must of course issue the invitation, for she knows all the best ways of doing such a thing. There can be no embarrassment, no little awkwardness, as there might have been if Mr Darcy himself had issued the invitation. The whole thing has been most nobly managed. You need have no hesitation in accepting an invitation made in such an unexceptionable manner, Elizabeth. As your cousin, and as the head of the household in which you are presently residing, I give you my permission to accept this invitation, and as a clergyman, whose high calling means he must examine every incident of this type to ensure its propriety, I can happily tell you there can be no objection whatsoever. I give you my blessing.’

  Elizabeth could not help laughing at this ridiculous speech, but she turned her laughter into a cough, and she noticed that Charlotte hid her embarrassment behind a large holly branch, which she was at that moment arranging in a jug.

  When Elizabeth had regained her composure she thanked Mr Collins gravely, saying, ‘You have set my mind at ease. I will write to my father and tell him I have your permission to go’ – she knew her father would enjoy this example of Mr Collins’s folly, and she knew he would chuckle to himself as he read it – and then I will write to Miss Darcy and accept her invitation.’