by P. O. Dixon
It had not taken her very long upon her arrival at Longbourn to discern that he tended to spend a great deal of time cloistered in that particular room. What was more; rarely did anyone in the house bother to interrupt him there, save her mama when she was in one of her agitated states.
“Lizzy, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said when she stepped inside the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“Papa, I do not mean to speak out of turn,” she began.
“I do not like the sound of that, for in my experience seldom does one commence a sentence with an apology and any good result.”
“I cannot say that you are wrong, but in this case I fear what I have to say can no longer be put off. It has to do with the fact of my youngest sisters being out in society. I must admit to being quite shocked.”
“Indeed, Kitty and Lydia have been out in society for years. I do not know that there’s anything to do about it now.”
“Well, certainly it is not possible to turn back the hands of time. However, it is certainly not too late for more judicious parental supervision and advisement. Who better than their father to teach the younger girls that their present pursuits are not to be the business of their lives? Lydia is not even sixteen and yet she is a determined flirt, and she is in no position to ward off any portion of that universal contempt which her rage for adoration must surely incite. And what of Kitty? She blindly follows Lydia wherever she leads. Papa, as they grow older and meet with larger society in general, do you not suppose that they will be censured and despised wherever they are known?”
“You make a good point, daughter, but if I may call attention to the obvious.”
“Please do—” she hesitated but a moment “—Papa.” After years of mourning the loss of a man whom she had placed upon a pedestal despite never having even met him and thinking of this iconic legend as her father, it was taking a while for Elizabeth to learn to embrace the fact that everything she thought she knew was merely a confluence of lies. The world-weary man who stood before her was her father.
“At the risk of offending you by pointing out the obvious,” Mr. Bennet began, giving Elizabeth cause to doubt he took umbrage at offending anyone.
He continued, “Notwithstanding the despicable means of its coming about, the disparity between you and your sisters is great. Your dowry of fifty thousand pounds guarantees that nothing that your other sisters will say or do will diminish your prospects one bit.”
“At the risk of giving offense,” said Elizabeth in return, “I fail to see how your pointing this out negates my desire not to see them being mocked and laughed at by others and especially their father.”
“My dear child, you are far too serious; a consequence of your aristocratic upbringing, no doubt. I always supposed that the very rich take themselves far too seriously and now you, my own daughter, prove it. You must endeavor to embrace my philosophy in such cases as this; for what do we live for but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?”
“If it is all the same to you, Papa, I would rather not make sport for anyone, least of all my own family.”
“Have it your way, my child, but I insist that you will allow the same for me. I know your intentions are good, but there is only so much a man of my age can change.”
“I contend that age is the perfect antidote for inadequacy in a father.”
Mr. Bennet’s astonishment was apparent. “Who is to say what manner of father I might have been? The man whom you so lovingly regard as your grandfather robbed me of my best chance and, in so doing, altered the choice of my life. For that I shall never forgive him!”
His hurtful words struck her forcefully. Yes, the late duke had injured her father as well as the rest of the Bennet family to varying degrees. Was this indeed a legitimate justification for his own deficits?
Mr. Bennet’s constant reminding her of the late duke’s failings was not enough to silence Elizabeth completely on the subject. “In time, you will no longer be able to hide behind the pain of what befell our family all those years ago. Then what will be your excuse? What then will be your reason for the neglect and general lack of regard for your family?
“You have a wife, whom you may perceive as dim-witted, but you chose her and if you chose her merely for the beauty she once possessed then shame on you. And while it is true she never gave you a male heir, she gave you daughters, daughters who need their father to guide and protect them—not laugh at them and deride them as the silliest girls in all of England.”
“Now wait just one minute, your ladyship,” said he, nearly spitting the appellation, “I will not have you stand there and render judgment against me.”
Not wanting to continue arguing with a father who professed his love for her and yet did a poor job of hiding his distaste for anyone who dared to speak the truth, Elizabeth went away, satisfied with the knowledge that she had said what she came to say. Whether or not he chose to listen was beyond her power.
Now alone in her room, sitting at her desk, she opened her drawer and took out her miniature of the late duke. Papa hates His Grace. Am I meant to hate him as well?
After months of living with the people who had been harmed by him the most and even having some idea of the aftermath of what he had done to all of them – her papa’s apathy, her mama’s nervousness and Jane’s shyness – Elizabeth still could not bring herself to bear any lasting ill-will towards the late duke. At least not to the extent that those around me expect, she considered. She had seen too much of goodness in him to allow even now that he might have been less than she thought him to be when he lived.
Elizabeth threw a reflective glance over the whole of the past few months. How far she had come from where she thought she would be at this point in her life ... the granddaughter of a powerful well-respected peer, which surely counted for something.
All that was not to imply that the late duke was perfect. He was, at times, haughty, officious, and outright dictatorial—indeed the sort of man who liked to have his own way. Were she to be truthful, she would confess to thinking herself rather blessed that she had escaped being married to the young man whom His Grace had chosen for her, but then that would be entirely too selfish on her part. The man had died after all.
She frowned. Why am I dwelling on those aspects of the past when the remembrance gives me no pleasure at all, when really there is so much of both gladness and triumph for me to ponder?
What was done was done and, despite the years of torment, sadness, and pain that her Bennet family had endured having had their child stolen away from them, now was a time for healing, for reconciliation, for forgiving. As much as Elizabeth loved knowing that she had a whole other family, she also loved the family she already had. Nothing would change that, ever.
Chapter 11 ~ However Unwittingly
Awash in anxiety, Elizabeth paced the floor. When she was not pacing, she was sitting in the window seat. Sitting, staring, and waiting for a carriage that would not come.
Unwelcome thoughts flooded her mind on what could possibly be keeping Longbourn’s imminent guest who was supposed to have arrived much earlier that morning. Her concerns were made worse by the prospect of what might happen when the guest did come. This was no ordinary guest. This was Lady Sophia Montlake. Mrs. Bennet, upon learning that her ladyship would be visiting Elizabeth on her way to town, had insisted that Elizabeth write to her ladyship at once to extend the hospitality of Longbourn.
Lady Sophia did not bear the silliness of others with a high degree of tolerance, and Elizabeth had learned enough about her younger sisters during their brief reunion to know that they had the propensity to live up to their reputation as being some of the silliest people in all of England. Her sister Jane she excluded from such an unflattering assessment. In addition, Mr. Collins remained a guest. Heaven only knew what a ridiculous spectacle he might make of himself in the wake of the noble addition to their family party.
Then there were her papa’s sensibili
ties to consider. While Mrs. Bennet was willing to put aside any grievances against the Montlakes for the sake of putting her girls in the way of single, wealthy gentlemen, Elizabeth’s papa could not be persuaded to grant anyone who bore the name Montlake any such consideration.
Not that he had been rude to Avery. Why, even Mr. Bennet would be the first to admit that it was not his place to disrespect the young duke. Had it been the former duke, Elizabeth would not swear her father would have been as agreeable. He hated the man for what he had done to the Bennet family, and he had sworn he would never forgive him, which brought Elizabeth’s concern back to her mind. How will Papa regard her ladyship?
During the course of her ladyship’s initial hours at Longbourn, everyone who habitually called on the Bennets did indeed call on them: all the Lucas ladies, Mrs. Greene, Mrs. Long, and anyone else who felt worthy of waiting on Lady Sophia—the woman who had raised Elizabeth as her own child. Mrs. Philips was there and, just as Elizabeth had come to expect, when her aunt was not quiet, she was very vulgar. Mr. Collins, feeling himself more than worthy of sitting next to Lady Sophia owing to his own lofty connections, did all he could to impress upon her his reason for being at Longbourn. He even supposed it was necessary to apologize for choosing the eldest Bennet daughter as the most deserving of his cousins to be his future wife as opposed to Elizabeth.
As soon as the last of Longbourn’s guests were gone, Lady Sophia and Elizabeth excused themselves from the rest of the family party for time alone in Elizabeth’s room. The two sat side by side on Elizabeth’s bed, as had always been their wont when at home.
“Pray you’re not horrified by my family’s rather untoward behavior. As you have surmised, my Hertfordshire relations are nothing like the Gardiners.”
“Elizabeth, my dear, you must never feel the need to apologize to me for the people who are your own flesh and blood.”
Her spirits rising to playfulness, Elizabeth asked, “Not even Mr. Collins?”
“Not even Mr. Collins. I wager that were you to think of any number of our lofty aristocratic acquaintances, you would find they are not unlike your relations. Enjoying wealth and privilege does not alter the fact that people are very much the same wherever we go.”
“Of course, you are correct. I shall endeavor to remember that the next time my idiot cousin delivers one of his preposterous speeches or my youngest sister parades herself before one of the officers.”
“Indeed, it’s human nature to want to prove one’s significance. Not everyone goes about it in the same manner.”
Elizabeth picked up her little doll with golden hair and blue eyes and started smoothing its dress.
Lady Sophia placed her hand on her chest. “I cannot believe you still carry this little doll with you on all your travels after all these years.”
Elizabeth smiled and hugged her doll tightly. “I can never go anywhere without Jane. I’m afraid I would be lost without her.”
Her ladyship smiled in turn. “Do you remember when your grandfather presented it to you? I shall never forget it. My, what a fuss you made that day. We were walking along hand in hand down the street and you tore away and raced over to the shop window, crying, “Jane — Jane!” You would not be satisfied until you pulled me inside and insisted the shopkeeper remove it from its window display.”
Elizabeth toyed with the doll’s golden ringlets while she listened to her ladyship recount the story she had heard so many times before. She could never hear enough how His Grace had finally relented amid her protests that persisted for days until, at last, the doll was hers. Indeed, she carried her Jane doll with her whenever she traveled. Not one night had passed in all the time she could remember that she did not give her beautiful doll a hug before closing her eyes to sleep.
Lady Sophia recalled the turmoil in her mind of late, wondering whether she should call on Elizabeth at Longbourn or allow her more time with her Bennet relations.
“Do you think she will object?” Her ladyship had asked Avery more than once. “You know how she has always protested my tendency to hover over her.”
“That was when she was coming into her own and endeavoring to assert her independence. This is different. She loves you and she certainly wants you to be happy,” Avery had affectionately reminded his mother.
Tears welled in Lady Sophia’s eyes. She pushed a loosened tress of Elizabeth’s hair aside and brushed a kiss atop her head. “I recall many nights of holding you in my arms to comfort you and feeling so helpless in the wake of your anguish. All that time, I never knew, I never supposed that your agony was owing to His Grace’s own doing.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I do not know that I will ever forgive him for what he did. I know I shall never forgive myself for my own complicity—however unwittingly.”
“Pray do not blame yourself,” Elizabeth cried. “You are completely innocent in all this. You could have no way of knowing the truth behind His Grace’s wrongdoings.”
“I believed what I wanted to believe. Having lost my husband and my precious little Bethany, the thought of facing yet another day became increasingly unbearable. Before I met you, I had no desire to carry on. Oh, Elizabeth, you changed all that. You came into my life at a time when I needed you most. I fell in love with you the moment I first laid eyes on you. You filled my life with joy and a new purpose.” Again, she kissed Elizabeth atop her head. “You, my dear, mean the world to me.”
~*~
Days later, Elizabeth was almost giddy, dancing about from one side of the room to the other. For reasons she would be hard pressed to explain without thinking too much about it, she was happier than she had been in a very long time, for she had it on good authority that Mr. Bingley was coming to Hertfordshire.
“Oh, what an excellent opportunity this is for our girls, specifically our Jane,” Elizabeth heard her mama excitedly exclaim to her papa when she, too, learned of Mr. Bingley’s imminent return.
Elizabeth recalled how happy Jane and Mr. Bingley were to see each other when they were all in Pemberley and how heartbroken her sister had been when Mr. Bingley took an early and rather abrupt leave. Jane believed it had to do with the gentleman’s lack of regard for her, but Elizabeth thought differently.
Mr. Bingley’s return can only mean one thing. He loves Jane, and he plans to make her an offer of marriage, Elizabeth quietly surmised, even at the risk of sounding like her mama.
She stopped in her tracks in consideration of what else Mr. Bingley’s visit might entail. It only makes sense, after all, that his friend Mr. Darcy might travel with him to Netherfield as well. The last time Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy was impressed upon her mind. I more than hinted that a visit from him in Hertfordshire would meet with my approval.
The suspense of not knowing if Mr. Darcy would be a member of Bingley’s party was unbearable. She had no choice other than to wait and see, just like everyone else, for the prospect of receiving a letter from him was not very likely at all with his being a single gentleman and her being a maiden.
Elizabeth, in her confusion over the truth of her birth coming out, had been entirely remiss in writing letters to any of the people from her past life. That included Miss Georgiana Darcy, unfortunately. Any information she received about the goings on of the ton, she heard from Avery and Lady Sophia. As both of them were still reeling from the shock of what had befallen their family, they were frequently not of a mind to engage in discussions about anyone else’s affairs.
Waiting and not knowing proved to be a trial for more than one of the ladies of Longbourn. It was incumbent upon Mrs. Bennet to hide from her guests just how excited she truly was over the prospect of Mr. Bingley’s return—particularly Mr. Collins. Nothing was truly certain until the amiable, young, and exceedingly rich gentleman actually arrived. He may well have been married by now for all Mrs. Bennet knew. She did not intend to alienate one potential son-in-law on the uncertain hope that another, more desirable catch would soon take his place. Once Mr. Bingley returned, Mrs. Bennet would
know how to act.
Chapter 12 ~ Free to Indulge
Darcy had felt as though forces of the universe had been conspiring to keep him from arriving in Hertfordshire: a near fatal accident, raging fires amid the tenant homes, his cousin’s schemes. He had endured it all, he now considered as he stepped down from the carriage. Finally, he enjoyed a breath of fresh air after what had been a rather uncomfortable trip, even in a large barouche as expensive as the one he owned.
Usually he would spend part of such a long trip like the one afforded from Derbyshire to Hertfordshire on horseback, but not this time. In fact, he did not arrange to bring his favorite stallion with him at all. Given the way his body ached, he did not suppose he would be riding very much for the next several weeks, if not months. Ah, but the ache in his heart would surely cease in a matter of hours and certainly over the course of a few days, if he could even bear to wait that long before calling on Longbourn.
Seeing Elizabeth’s face will certainly make all that I have endured in traveling all this way worthwhile.
Moments later, Darcy espied his friend Charles Bingley bounding down the stone steps of his stately home. Darcy’s smile vanished when he saw that his friend was not alone. Bingley’s youngest sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, had also decided to venture outside and greet him.
Well, what did he expect? Charles Bingley and his single sister apparently were a package, one that he had learned to accept for the sake of his friendship with the younger man. Rather tolerated, he immediately considered. He then wondered if he and his own sister were closer in age, would she too have a habit of going with him almost every place he went? He smiled in spite of himself as he remembered that his cousin Lady Victoria, whom he loved as much as he would were she his sister, was his own version of Charles Bingley’s sister what with her wont of spending so much time in his company.
