Fate and Consequences

by Linda Wells

  Elizabeth rose and meeting Jane’s wide eyes and her father’s lifted brow, she quickly went to the front door. Recognizing the same young man as before, she smiled. “We meet again, it seems.”

  He grinned. “Yes, Miss. I was told by the master to get used to the journey.” They smiled and he opened his pouch. “He asked that the letters be delivered right into your hands; no one else was to take them. Oh, and this,” He handed her a purse, “is for postage on the letters that I can not deliver. He does not wish to have to burden you with the cost, and he said; he did not wish to limit the length of the correspondence.” Danny screwed up his eyes and said his speech very slowly, obviously trying to get Darcy’s words just right. He finished and grinned down at her. “I’d appreciate it; Miss, if you could tell him I gave you the message.”

  Elizabeth, recovering from the surprising statement startled. “Oh, of course. Will you be waiting for a reply?”

  He shook his head. “No, Miss. I want to make my other deliveries, but I’ll be coming through here fairly regular, I’m sure.” He pulled on the brim of his cap and grinned. “Have a good evening, Miss.”

  “Thank you, oh what is your name?” He grinned again. “Danny, Miss.” She smiled. “Thank you, Danny, and thank Mr. Darcy for his kindness.” He nodded and leapt up on his horse and galloped off.

  Elizabeth looked down at the two envelopes in her hand. One addressed to her in a feminine hand, the other simply addressed to “Miss E” in his clear writing. Her heart skipped. She quickly concealed his letter inside of her bodice and opened the little purse and gasped. There was a small fortune in coins enclosed. Surely he did not expect to send that many letters! She did know that the last thing she should do is let her mother see it. She would speak to her father about it privately. Drawing a deep breath she returned to the dining room where every eye, including those of the curious servants’, watched her as she resumed her seat.

  “Well, Lizzy, what was that all about?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  She smiled. “It is a letter from my new friend, Miss Darcy. Her brother’s messenger was on his way north and stopped here with her letter to save us the postage.”

  “Well that is most considerate of the girl! Quite kind!” Mrs. Bennet nodded. “What does she say in her letter?”

  “I have not read it yet, Mama; I thought I would wait until after dinner.”

  “Nonsense! I insist you read it now, so we all can hear!”

  Mr. Bennet fixed a stare on his wife. “Mrs. Bennet, I am sure that if there is any news that would be of interest to you, Lizzy will undoubtedly share it with you. In the meantime, leave her correspondence to her.”

  “Oh Mr. Bennet, you do vex me! Do you not know? Miss Darcy’s brother is unmarried, and will be coming to Netherfield with Mr. Bingley. If Lizzy is good friends with his sister, why he will have to meet her, and of course, he will wish to marry her!”

  Mr. Bennet saw Elizabeth’s blush, but assumed it was out of embarrassment from her mother, and not because that thought had ever crossed her mind. “Well Lizzy, tell us, is that your plan?” He smirked. “A rich man with a fine estate, well no wonder you are not interested in our local young men.” He laughed at her flushed face and returned to his plate.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to ignore her mother’s effusions, while she could feel his letter pressing against her body. She could not wait for the evening to end. In the parlour after dinner, and under the watchful eye of her mother, she had no choice but to open Miss Darcy’s letter. She hoped that she would not say anything too revealing because her mother was just poised to pounce upon the sheets.

  30 June 1811

  Pemberley

  Derbyshire

  Dear Miss Elizabeth,

  I wish to thank you for your very welcome letter. I was so happy to learn more of you. I have never had a correspondent before who did not know me already, so when I asked my brother what I should write, he suggested that I do the same and tell you about myself.

  I am fifteen years old. William is my only sibling, and he is twelve years my senior. Our parents are both passed, my mother at my birth and my father five years ago. We live during the late summer until February at Pemberley, which is near the village of Lambton, and the rest of the time in London, except when we are visiting with relatives. I was recently taken from my school, and it is good to be home with William all of the time again. I have missed him so much. Well you have met him, so you know how kind he is. He shares my guardianship with our cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, you were correct about his rank. He has been to war several times, but is thankfully in London now, training new men for the cavalry.

  Unlike you, I do not walk very often, although the park at Pemberley is beautiful, and offers many paths to explore. I mostly keep to the gardens when I am on foot. I do enjoy riding though. William taught me when I was very small, and last year he bought me a new pony. He was so very patient with me. I was terribly afraid, but he sat with me in the saddle and made sure I would not fall. Before I knew it, I was on my own and sometimes we even race! I do hope that you are not afraid of horses, if you are and you ever come to visit, perhaps William could teach you to ride, too!

  I think that my greatest accomplishment is music. I enjoy playing very much, although I have not had the desire to play for some weeks now. Perhaps when I reach home I will take it up again. I hope that we stay at Pemberley for a very long time. I have no desire to ever return to London again.

  Please tell me all about your family, and the music you like to play. And thank you so much for wanting to write to someone like me. I do look forward to your next letter so very much.

  Sincerely,

  Georgiana Darcy

  Elizabeth read the letter through several times before folding it and thinking over Miss Darcy’s words. What had happened to her was in London, and it was enough to make her wish to never return. Was that simply the overstatement of a young girl, or was it truly so horrible that any person would dread returning? She thought back of Mr. Darcy and his cousin, and their grim faces when she met them. No, this girl was not overstating her feelings. Something truly terrible happened. But what could it be? Her parents were already gone; it must be something that personally affected her. She felt her father’s eyes upon her as she thought.

  “Is all well with your friend, Lizzy?”

  She looked up and smiled. “Yes, she tells me she is happy to be home at their estate and hopes they stay for some time. She invites me to visit her someday.”

  “Well, Lizzy! That is great news! Where is her estate?” Mrs. Bennet demanded.

  “It is called Pemberley and is located in Derbyshire, near Lambton.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “Lambton? Mr. Bennet, is that not the town where our sister Gardiner lived?”

  “I believe it is.”

  Mrs. Bennet nodded. “I shall write to her directly and ask if she knows anything of the family.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. “Oh Mama, I will do that, I am a letter in her debt in any case. I will tell you if she has any news of her.”

  “Good, that is fine; I do not have time for writing letters.” She shook her finger. “You be sure to tell me what you learn!”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mama.”

  Mrs. Bennet nodded again. “Yes, and you will visit her. But you must behave yourself to her parents!”

  “Her parents are gone, Mama, it is just she and her brother.”

  Elizabeth instantly knew she made an error when Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened and she practically purred. “Mr. Darcy is master of his estate, and so young, too? Well, that is excellent news, is it not, Mr. Bennet?”

  “Excellent, Fanny. Now I will retire to my bookroom. Goodnight.” He left and Elizabeth soon followed. He looked up with surprise when he turned to close the door. “Lizzy, is there a problem?”

  “No Papa.” She bit her lip and drew out the purse. “Mr. Darcy’s messenger gave me this. He said it was to pay the po
stage on any letters his sister sends. He did not wish for her to have to limit her replies, but did not wish for us to be burdened with the cost either, and his messenger would not always be available to deliver here.”

  He opened the pouch and could not hide his surprise. “This is quite a gesture, Lizzy.” His gaze fixed on her expression.

  “I think it was done in kindness.” He nodded, and she realized he would think that the young man was trying to impress her with his wealth.

  “You know him better than I my dear, if that is what you believe, than I will as well. I will keep this locked in my desk. If the funds are necessary, I will take them from here, but not until we cannot afford to pay the postage ourselves.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Papa.” Instead of returning to the parlour she sped up the stairs to her room where she closed the door, and hurried to the window to open his letter.

  Dear Miss E,

  I hope most sincerely that this note finds you well. I must before anything thank you very much for writing to my sister. Your letter arrived in the midst of a very difficult time and to see Georgiana with a smile on her face because of your words brought me more happiness than I have felt in a very great while. I thank you.

  I understand from your letter that you wish for a duel. Please be aware Miss E that I am quite skilled with the foil, and I suspect you are not. What shall our weapons be? The pistol? No, for our duels should be of a long duration; and a pistol’s action is rather short-lived. That leaves words, Miss E. Are you up to the challenge? Shall I begin by examining your rather revealing letter to my little sister?

  You confessed many things that beg to be addressed. What is this habit of climbing trees? Do you contemplate your life when up in their limbs? Do you dream of the future? Do you imagine what lies beyond the horizon and wish to go there? I will not criticize your action as it is one that I have often enjoyed myself. Yes, I enjoy escaping into the embrace of a magnificent tree, although it has been many years since I last took the opportunity. Would you accept some company in your tree?

  I am quite curious of just what books you have discovered behind your father’s locked door. That is a wicked confession, Miss E. I wonder if the books you have found are of the type I imagine, and if so, your mind has been broadened in quite fascinating ways! Tell me, what have you been reading? As you have been so forthright in your confession, I will make one of my own. I have escaped into the ridiculous fantasy of one of my sister’s novels, and found it, mindless but strangely satisfying. I will never admit to this again, and if you mention it, I will deny ever making the statement. I also ask what is this problem you have with four-legged beasts? A donkey accosts you and it seems that horses are hardly your friends either. I must find this out Miss E. I must know all.

  I confess to you now that I am perhaps not quite prepared for a duel. I sat down to write you a charming, witty letter, and reading it over, I fear that what I have given you sounds anything but, in fact I fear that it sounds forced. I wish to assume no disguises with you, Miss E. What I do wish for, what I hope for; is a friend.

  I am in the midst of a trouble I can not control. Since my becoming master of Pemberley, I have been able to manage every aspect of my world, but this time I can not, and it affects my dearest sister in a way that will mark the rest of her life. I am powerless to stop it, and desperate for help. I am alone and I do not know what to do. I do not know what fate has brought you to me at this time, I have thought over our introduction countless times over the past weeks and wondered if I would have behaved differently if our meeting had occurred before my sister’s troubles began.

  In honesty I do not know, I would like to think that were I at my leisure that day I first saw you, I would have hurried down the steps of the inn and introduced myself to you. I do not know if the man then would have had the courage to do such a thing, but the man I am now, more hardened against the rules of society, would perpetrate that heinous act of speaking to a single lady without a proper introduction from a third party. The day before I met you I could not possibly have considered breaking the rules of propriety by writing to you as I have, sending you my token, or speaking so plainly. How such a little amount of time can change a man, how the act of another can change the course of one’s life so suddenly. I ask you, Miss E, can you bear to be the friend of two Darcys? I anticipate your reply more than I can possibly say.

  Sincerely,

  FD

  Elizabeth sank slowly down upon her bed, the letter clutched in her hands. She read it through again. “Who is this man?” She whispered in wonder. “Why would he wish a friendship with me?” His sister, she could understand. They had formed a little bond of sorts over an act of kindness. But this man was obviously one of wealth and power, master of his own estate, and surely he would have any number of friends at his disposal to help him through this trouble with his sister. Why choose a stranger? Well, not quite a stranger anymore, but still, he could hardly know her well enough to be sure of her trust. She thought back over their last meeting, and how tongue-tied he was, and how troubled. There was more to him than simply his sister’s pain.

  She looked back over his words, and saw a man desperately trying to be light hearted and banter with a girl who had, she blushingly admitted, caught his eye, but in the end he gave in to the truth. He needed a friend, and he had no one else to help him. That thought made her feel more sad than honoured. A man of such wealth could also be so alone. She again thought of his difficulty in speech and realized that through the comfort and distance afforded by the pen, he would be able to express himself, and take the time to clearly form his thoughts without them tumbling out in an incoherent jumble. She began to understand the puzzle of Fitzwilliam Darcy. He liked her; he was somehow attracted to her. He wished to know everything of her, and her letters brightened his world. To have such an affect on another person was gratifying in a way she had never before experienced. She read his letter over again and smiled. “Yes, FD, William Darcy, I will be your friend.” A knock at the door startled her and she quickly folded his letter and stuffed it under her pillow. “Come in?” She called and was relieved to see Jane.

  “Are you well, Lizzy? You never returned to the parlour.” Jane looked at Elizabeth’s flushed face. “You are ill! Do you have a fever?”

  Elizabeth touched her burning cheeks and laughed. “No, Jane, I am well, I assure you. I was just reading my letter from … him.” She ended in a whisper.

  Jane’s eyes grew wide. “Another letter?” She whispered. Elizabeth nodded and handed it to her. She watched as Jane read, at first smiling and raising her brow, obviously over Elizabeth’s confessions, and then she saw her brows knit in concern. “He is in great pain.”

  “Yes, that is what I concluded as well. I have decided to honour his request, I will be his friend.” She looked at Jane anxiously. “You do think he is sincere, do you not? He is not trifling with me?”

  Jane looked back up from the letter to meet her hopeful eyes. “No Lizzy, this letter is very sincere. I believe he has never been so honest before.” She reached for and squeezed her hand. “Be careful with your heart, and be careful that Mama and Papa do not learn of this correspondence. You must protect yourself from the impropriety.”

  “Yes, I will be careful.” She took her hand. “Oh Jane, do you think I can help him, cheer him?”

  She smiled. “If anyone can make a man laugh, it will be you.”

  DARCY PACED the confines of his study. Surely the post will have arrived by now? He looked again out of the window and groaned with frustration. By his calculation a letter from Hertfordshire should arrive this day. Elizabeth received his letter five days earlier. That would have given her a day and a half to compose her reply and post it. It must arrive today! He strode about the room, picking up books and casting them aside. Why did I send that letter?! He thought. It was a mistake. IF she writes back, it will surely be to tell me that I was overstepping the lines of propriety and that I should never contact h
er again. She will likely tell me to discontinue Georgiana’s letters as well. I will never forgive myself if Georgiana loses Elizabeth’s friendship because I can not control my … What do I feel for her? He continued his circuit of the room, finally alighting by the mantle of the fireplace, and staring down into the grate. He closed his eyes, the picture of tension, and twisted furiously the ring on his finger. A knock at the study door made him jump. “Come in.” He rasped.

  “Sir the post has arrived…” The servant could say no more as Darcy strode forward and snatched the pile from the salver. He dropped them on his desk and began rifling through. His heart stopped seeing two letters from Longbourn, one for Georgiana, the other for him. Drawing a deep shaking breath, he took his letter to his chair, sat down, broke the seal, and closing his eyes for a moment, readied to learn his sentence.

  Dear FD,

  I do not know what fate brought us together that day, but I should like to tell you that I would be honoured to be considered your friend. The troubles you and your sister face must be heavy indeed. Her letters indicate that she is undeserving of any kindness and yours shows the signs of a man who is so alone that he reaches out to a stranger for help. If you sense that I can indeed be of aid, if only for the contribution of a willing ear, I will be glad to lend it. I propose that we write honestly to each other. Tell me what has happened, and I will do my best to provide comfort and any ideas for relief. We may drop the pretence of flirtation, and instead move to what a friendship should be, companionship and support. Does that suit you, sir?

  Now, to answer some of your questions, I do spend my time in trees to escape my rather noisy home and contemplate the world. I find that nobody looks up when they walk, so I am free to observe life below and dream of what life could be in my little sanctuary. I will not tell you what I have read in my father’s cabinet because I blush to think that you have read such things as well, but I assure you, I am far fonder of poetry and histories than of anatomical diagrams. Oh, I just told you what I saw! Oh dear! As for my friendship with beasts of the field, I have been led away by a headstrong horse far too many times for comfort. Your sister suggests riding lessons. Do you know anyone who might be willing to teach a girl who is often as obstinate as her mount?