Foiled Elopement: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  “Well, I congratulate you on your happy union, then.”

  “Hardly that.”

  “Oh? Aside from our likely enraged aunt, Miss Bingley’s snobbery, Georgiana’s uncertain circumstance and Wickham’s threat, I assumed your declaration of interest meant you are happy.” Richard frowned at him. “You aren’t actually thinking of setting her aside? She’s perfectly lovely.” Bitter understanding showed in his face. “You’re taken with her beguiling sister, aren’t you? I’ve rarely seen a more stunning woman.”

  “What? No.” Darcy shook his head. “No, it’s . . . it’s personal.”

  “Come now. We’re cousins. If there’s more trouble, out with it. Perhaps I can see a solution you can’t.”

  Darcy let out a long sigh. He doubted that, but Richard was tenacious. Now that he had a hint something was wrong, he wouldn’t let the matter lie. “Two nights ago, we stayed at an inn. For verisimilitude, Elizabeth and I went to one of the rooms we rented, as we did every night of the journey. We talked of our day. I kissed her good night. Then I watched her walk to the room she was to share with her sister while I slept alone.”

  Richard appeared slightly confused. “I understand Miss Bennet couldn’t be permitted to sleep alone, especially as her looks are liable to attract considerable attention, but what about here, last night?”

  “There was a connecting door between us, but I didn’t open it. She is my wife, but I can’t risk getting her with child.”

  Richard’s expression became one of suppressed amusement. He’d obviously realized what Darcy’s complaint was, the predicament he’d placed himself in. Richard began to chuckle.

  “It’s not funny,” Darcy said. He glowered at his cousin.

  “Yes, it is,” Richard said, still wracked with amusement.

  “And your speech about seeing a solution?” Darcy bit out.

  “Oh, I do. Wait.”

  Darcy looked about his desk. Throwing the ink well would create too great a mess.

  “You put yourself in this situation. It’s up to you to fix it,” Richard said, parroting Darcy’s harsh words of earlier.

  A knock sounded. “Darcy?”

  It was Elizabeth’s voice. Richard stifled his laughter, composing himself.

  “Come in,” Darcy called.

  The door opened to Elizabeth, dressed in a simple gown he’d often seen on her during the journey. Her dark hair was pinned up. Her expression was warm, eyes full of interest as she looked about his office. “Darcy, Colonel,” she greeted.

  Richard stood, scooping up Mr. Matthew’s reports. “Well, I’ve things to attend to. I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t get into any trouble.”

  Darcy stood, ignoring the amusement in Richard’s voice. He was vaguely aware of his cousin leaving, nodding to Elizabeth on his way out, but his eyes were on her. She was so slender, coming barely to his shoulder. Her large, luminous eyes were wide to reveal happiness, and pleasure at seeing him. Her skin seemed almost to glow in the diffuse light. Reaching down, he folded Wickham’s letter, tucking it into his pocket.

  Waiting seemed a paltry concern. His real worry must be keeping her safe. From ridicule, spite and worry, but most of all, from George Wickham.

  Chapter Sixteen – Strife Ensues

  Elizabeth spent the hours between breakfast and her appointment to walk Pemberley with her husband in the company of his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, learning about how his home was managed. As she’d suspected upon seeing Pemberley, running the household was a daunting task. She knew she could let Mrs. Reynolds see to it, but she wanted to learn as much as she could. Out of deference to Darcy’s desire to show her about, they stayed to the lower levels, areas more frequented by staff than family or guests. Everything that went on below stairs to keep Pemberley running smoothly was a bit overwhelming.

  Fortunately, Mrs. Reynolds turned out to be a kind, intelligent woman, who made it plain she would listen to any suggestions Elizabeth had. When Elizabeth mentioned a dish her father liked, Mrs. Reynolds said she would ask the cook to prepare it for dinner. When it neared eleven, they parted ways in a very amiable state.

  It was only as she walked to Darcy’s office, after getting more detailed directions from Mrs. Reynolds, that Elizabeth realized the housekeeper had said she would listen to suggestions, not take orders. Elizabeth frowned, parsing out the meaning behind what went unspoken. Darcy had given her no authority. Obviously, Mrs. Reynolds was hesitant to give it without Darcy’s explicit instructions. Elizabeth suspected Mrs. Reynolds would give her as much authority as she could, but Elizabeth did not want a valuable employee to be uncomfortable. Mrs. Reynolds should know Elizabeth’s status in the household, as should she.

  As she neared Darcy’s office, she heard laughter within. She smiled slightly, pleased to know laughter was permitted in Pemberley, for it was a very grand place. She knocked, calling for her husband, who bade her enter.

  She opened the door to find a smiling Colonel Fitzwilliam rising from a chair. He took a stack of pages from the large mahogany desk that occupied the far end of the room, responding cheerfully to her greeting. Her attention was on her husband, however, who looked rather foreboding as he stood.

  The colonel left and Elizabeth stepped into the room, not closing the door. She still wasn’t accustomed to being able to do so, and they ought to be leaving to see the rest of Pemberley, anyhow. She offered Darcy a smile, but his grim façade didn’t waver. Perhaps laughter wasn’t permissible after all, and he was angry with his cousin. Well, if he was in one of his grim moods, at least she didn’t need to worry over spoiling a cheerful one with her questions.

  “I’ve spent the morning with Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth said, coming farther into the room.

  It was a rather dark space, paneled in coffee colored wood. There was a window behind Darcy, but the deep green curtains were drawn, protecting the furniture from the sun. A lively fire gave off warmth and light, and candles were lit. She was struck by the frivolity of using candles when daylight abounded, but doubted the cost was much of a concern to her husband.

  “I trust you got along well?” he said, sounding as stiff as he appeared.

  “We did. She was beginning my education on managing Pemberley.”

  He raised his eyebrows, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “Mrs. Reynolds manages Pemberley well.”

  “Yes, she does, and will continue to do so, I’m sure, but as I learn, I expect to take on the duties of lady of the house.” Did he think she wasn’t competent enough to manage his home? He’d praised her wit often enough.

  He frowned, a line appearing on his brow as he thought over her words.

  Elizabeth took several more steps into the room. “Mrs. Reynolds, in the nicest way possible, let me know you haven’t told her I have any authority. It was obvious that puts her in an awkward position.”

  Darcy nodded. “I will tell her. I will give you authority, but I will ask her to tell me if she thinks you are being unreasonable.”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips closed over a rejoinder to that. Did he expect her to be unreasonable, then? Was that his worry?

  He offered a wooden smile. “It pleases me to know you’re getting along with Mrs. Reynolds. She’s been with the family for nearly two dozen years.”

  That was longer than Georgiana had been alive. Elizabeth wondered when the former Mrs. Darcy had passed. Was Mrs. Reynolds something of a mother to Darcy and Georgiana? She looked about the large dark room again. There was so much she didn’t know about her husband, his home, his family or his world. Suddenly, it seemed a boon she’d found Mrs. Reynolds so pleasant. She smiled, seeking to reassure Darcy. “Mrs. Reynolds seems both competent and kind. I suspect we’ll be able to work out any differences. I was not raised to manage a household of this size, but I believe I can learn. I also believe she will be a good teacher.”

  “I’m glad. I would like her to stay, but if you don’t get along with her, she will have to go.”

  That surprised h
er, but what else could he offer? His only other choice would be to send Elizabeth away or tell her she had no authority and had to live with it. She was relieved to know he wouldn’t do that. Or, at least, he didn’t believe he would now.

  “Does that clarify your position here?” he asked.

  Now that he asked, Elizabeth realized it did not. “Not entirely.” Why was he still standing behind his desk, seeming so grim? It made her nervous. “I have hardly any money except the pennies I earned at the Sleeping Cat. I don’t know how to go about ordering a carriage or if you’ve given me the authority to do so. I know we haven’t had much time, but I feel these, among others, are things we should discuss.”

  “I have not given you the authority to order a carriage,” he said sharply.

  She blinked, startled. “I may learn to manage your home, but not order a carriage?”

  “I should like you to remain here, to learn about Pemberley. There is also your charitable allowance. You should see to that.”

  First he seemed unsure she was capable of managing Pemberley, and now learning to do so was paramount? “Charitable allowance? How am I to do that without going out to meet your tenants?”

  “You are not permitted to order a carriage,” he repeated. “If you would like one, come to me.”

  She frowned, anger sparking in her breast. “Are you saying I’m not allowed to leave this house?”

  “No. I am saying you must inform me when you do so. You are to tell me where you’re going and to take at least two footmen with you. I would prefer if you do not walk the grounds unescorted either.”

  “I’m not allowed in the garden alone?” Where had this madness come from? She narrowed her eyes. Had his friends remarked on her tarnished reputation? She was aware they didn’t approve of her, especially Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, in spite of their efforts to be polite. She could imagine Miss Bingley especially pointing out to him that a well-behaved young woman would never have permitted herself to be left alone in an inn, or borne off to Scotland. Was this, then, some sort of jealous raving?

  “I would prefer you go nowhere unescorted,” he repeated sternly. “I should like to know your whereabouts.”

  “You plan to treat your wife like a wayward child? What is it you believe I’m going to do?” If he was accusing her of something, she would have the words out of him, not cloaked.

  “Do?” He shook his head. “Nothing. I will simply feel more comfortable knowing where you are.”

  “I see,” she said, her tone icy. “Well, right now, I will be in Pemberley. As to which room, I’m not sure, but it won’t be one you’re in.” Turning, she stalked out.

  Thoroughly angry, Elizabeth strode through Pemberley with no particular destination in mind. As her ire began to cool, she became aware of music coming from somewhere ahead. Further exploration led her to a sizable parlor.

  Georgiana and an elegant centrally located pianoforte were the source of the music. Jane sat to one side, listening with a smile on her face. Miss Bingley was seated to the other, her expression contemplative as she watched not Georgiana, but Jane.

  “Lizzy,” Jane said, spotting her in the doorway. “Are you done with Mr. Darcy so soon? Will you join us?”

  Ignoring the first question, Elizabeth put a smile on her face and entered the parlor. “I would be pleased to join you, yes.”

  “Come play with me?” Georgiana offered, sliding over on the seat.

  Elizabeth did, and played with Miss Bingley as well, as did Georgiana. Both of them played with better skill than Elizabeth did, but somehow Miss Bingley and Georgiana did not make good music together. To Elizabeth’s surprise, she and Miss Bingley did play well together, partly because Miss Bingley was the better player and they both knew it.

  After a pleasant hour or so spent in this manor, Jane sometimes adding her voice if the tune called for it, Elizabeth’s temper was restored. Finally, though not rudely, Miss Bingley cried an end to the playing. They all settled in a small ring of couches and called for tea. Elizabeth, feeling a bit self-conscious, served.

  “Isn’t this a lovely room, Lizzy?” Jane asked once they were served. “I never dreamed one of us would end up anywhere so grand. Wait until I tell Mama. She’ll be over the moon.”

  “You hadn’t good prospects in your village, then?” Miss Bingley asked.

  “There is the Lucas family, but even their home isn’t this grand,” Jane said. “There is one great estate there, Netherfield Park, but it’s been up for lease for ages, with no one taking it up. It’s not as large or as lovely as Pemberley, but the grounds are beautiful.”

  “I should like to visit it. Perhaps I’ll speak to Charles.” The contemplative look was back in Miss Bingley’s eyes as she spoke to Jane. “I’m sure we would be delighted to meet the rest of your family.”

  “You are sure of this only because you have not met them,” Elizabeth said, smiling.

  “Lizzy, don’t be unfair,” Jane said.

  “I’m not. I’m being honest.”

  Miss Bingley looked between them, frowning. She shrugged. “I’m sure they’re delightful. You have a mother and three other sisters, do you not? I’m sure all as lovely and elegant as you both.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Now she was lovely and elegant? That was a new tactic for Miss Bingley. Had she decided she couldn’t separate Elizabeth from Mr. Darcy? If only she knew the state of their union, she would be a vastly different companion.

  “Kitty and Lydia are both very pretty,” said Jane, ever diplomatic.

  Apparently satisfied, Miss Bingley turned to Elizabeth. “I know you were traveling when you were . . . before the turn of events.” She gave an apologetic shrug. “Have you sent for your clothing? Louisa and I are very up on fashion. Lambton, the nearest town, likely doesn’t offer much, but we would be delighted to accompany you to the seamstress there and help select a few items, to make you ready for London. You’ll want to look a bit smarter or they won’t take you seriously when you visit a modiste there.”

  Miss Bingley’s words woke Elizabeth’s anger over Mr. Darcy’s insistence she speak to him before leaving the confines of Pemberley. She took a sip of tea, hoping the emotion didn’t show on her face. She didn’t care much about gowns, but Miss Bingley was correct. She didn’t wish to embarrass herself in London. Although, the thought of embarrassing Mr. Darcy was somewhat appealing.

  “We don’t have to, of course.” Miss Bingley looked between the other three as if trying to guess what she’d said wrong. “It was only a thought.”

  “And a good one,” Elizabeth said firmly, offering a smile. “I should like to go very much, and be obliged for your assistance. Were you considering it for tomorrow?”

  Miss Bingley’s smile was relieved. “I was.”

  “I shall make the arrangements.” With my domineering, unreasonable, overbearing husband, Elizabeth added in her mind.

  “Splendid.” Miss Bingley’s smile looked genuine. “Miss Darcy, Miss Bennet? Will you join us?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve already agreed to walk the grounds with your brother in the morning and then Colonel Fitzwilliam tomorrow afternoon, so I don’t believe I can.” Jane turned to Elizabeth. “I can cancel if you like. I should enjoy accompanying you.”

  “Oh no, don’t do that,” Miss Bingley said. “Or, cancel on the colonel and we can leave after you walk with Charles. He would be terribly disappointed.”

  Jane shook her head. “That wouldn’t be right.”

  “Georgiana?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting my French and Italian, and should like time to draw,” Georgiana said. “But thank you for the invitation.”

  “It will be us three, then.” Again, Miss Bingley’s pleasure seemed unfeigned. “Shall we play a bit more before we ready for dinner?”

  Elizabeth agreed, though Georgiana went to fetch drawing materials. Jane, thus, had the joint pleasure of listening to music and watching Georgiana’s skill unfold, though she
did do a miniature of Jane as well. That, Miss Bingley appropriated before they left to ready for the evening meal.

  Elizabeth mulled over Miss Bingley’s new attitude toward her as a maid helped her ready for bed at the end of the night, deciding Miss Bingley very much wanted to be friends with Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley. What had convinced her Elizabeth was there to stay, she didn’t know, but the effect was pleasant.

  Dinner had been a splendid affair. Jane again sat between Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and both vied for her attention. Elizabeth smiled. She was pleased her beautiful, sweet natured sister was finally meeting men worthy of her. Being Jane, it was difficult to tell if she preferred one, but Elizabeth found both men more than suitable.

  The only disagreeable part of dinner had been her husband. Mr. Darcy’s dark mood of the afternoon had remained. He’d been barely civil, speaking only when directly addressed. Whenever she’d looked at him, his face had revealed a strange possessiveness that troubled her. It only served to strengthen her idea he was a jealous man. When Miss Bingley had mentioned the planned trip to Lambton the following day, he’d outright frowned. Fortunately, Elizabeth didn’t think anyone else had seen.

  Finally, ready for bed, Elizabeth dismissed the maid who’d been helping her. She wrapped herself in a robe and squared her shoulders. It was time to ask her husband for his permission to leave Pemberley tomorrow afternoon. She crossed to the adjoining door and knocked.

  No answer came. She turned the handle. To her surprise, the door was locked. Angered, she stepped out into the hall and went to Mr. Darcy’s door, knocking louder this time.

  A moment later the door was thrown open. Scowling, he pulled her inside, closing them in. “What are you doing in the hall in a state of undress?”

  “Trying to speak to my husband. Why is the door between our rooms locked?” She glared up at him, her back pressed to the hall door.

  She hadn’t been inside Mr. Darcy’s room before. Though he blocked much of the view, she could see it was simply yet elegantly appointed. It smelled of the crackling fire and clean linen, and was done in a deep, rich blue, unlike her own lilac themed chamber.