Believing in Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  Aside from her duties at Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth took to visiting her mother and Kitty twice a week. She knew she ought to go more often, to spare Kitty their mother’s constant company, but couldn’t bring herself to. Elizabeth enjoyed the walk, at least, and could do much of it in fields to avoid people. Turning onto the lane on one of her weekly visits, nearly a month after Lydia’s scandal was announced, Elizabeth was surprised to spy the Gardiner’s carriage in front of Pine Cottage.

  She rushed inside, hoping for good news. For any news, really. As angry as she was with her sister, Elizabeth was also worried. There’d been no sign of Lydia for weeks. Anything could have happened to her. Elizabeth could hear her mother’s raised voice as she neared the parlor. Entering, she found the room full of her mother, Kitty and Mr. Gardiner.

  “Lydia’s going to be married,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, breaking off her haranguing as her gaze landed on Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet looked exceedingly proud. Kitty sat beside her, relieved and happy.

  Elizabeth hurried to her uncle, who’d stood upon her entry. “You found her.”

  “No, they came to us,” Mr. Gardiner said.

  “They came to you? After all this time? Is Lydia well?”

  Mr. Gardiner nodded. “She seems fit. They sought me out because they want to marry, and it’s easier to get married with permission. Mr. Wickham also wanted a monetary guarantee.”

  Elizabeth frowned, instantly suspicious. “Such as?”

  “Only that, when Mrs. Bennet dies, he will inherit Lydia’s share.”

  “That’s all?” Elizabeth asked. That level of forbearance didn’t fit with the Wickham she’d come to know.

  “Isn’t this wonderful, Lizzy?” her mother said. “Lydia has done what neither you or Jane could do. Brought an officer up to scratch. I always knew she was the best of you. To think, a younger sister finding a husband when her older siblings are languishing on the market. That’s what comes of being pretty and lively, and not letting off-putting thoughts from books into your head.”

  “Surprisingly, yes,” Elizabeth’s uncle said in answer to her as soon as Mrs. Bennet ceased speaking. “I also have a list of debts in Meryton and was given money to discharge them. Colonel Forster received a similar list and the money to cover it, for Wickham’s Brighton debts.”

  “Will he return to his post, then?” she asked, wondering where Wickham had gotten the money to cover his debts. She would suspect her uncle, but he said he’d received the list and coin. She couldn’t quite believe he would lie to her face.

  “He’s resigning his commission in the militia.”

  “What will he do?” Elizabeth asked. Wickham was hardly fit for anything else.

  “He was working loading barges, but I found better employment for him. He combines acting as secretary for the business along with doing some of the heavy lifting. The business is owned by a childless, elderly couple who are happy to have one person who can do both.” He cleared his throat, looking abashed. “Lydia is working in a tavern.”

  “A tavern?” Elizabeth exclaimed. When word of that got out, and it would, no one would take any of the other Bennet sisters to wife. Of course, Lydia had nearly guaranteed that already, with her behavior.

  “As I was telling Mr. Gardiner before you entered, that is totally unacceptable,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Some money should be found so my Lydia doesn’t have to work.”

  “The only money there is would take away from you and your other four daughters,” Mr. Gardiner said, in a tone that suggested he’d told this to Mrs. Bennet many times before.

  “Lizzy and Jane don’t deserve their shares.” Mrs. Bennet cast Elizabeth a glare. “They both had the chance to marry, and both failed to do so. Why, if Elizabeth had only accepted Mr. Collins, I would still be in Longbourn, where I belong.”

  All the more reason to be happy about refusing, because now I don’t have to live with you, Elizabeth thought, but she held her tongue.

  “The money is already allocated.” Mr. Gairdner’s tone was firm.

  “I don’t see--”

  “Of course, you could always give Lydia some of your share, or send her a portion of your budget,” Mr. Gardiner said, cutting over Mrs. Bennet’s protest.

  Elizabeth’s mother fell silent. Uncle Gardiner turned his head slightly, offering Elizabeth a conspiratorial wink. She worked to hide her smile, turning the conversation to talk of the wedding.

  Several weeks later, the wedding day came and went. Though Mrs. Bennet railed against it, none of them had the funds to travel to London for the occasion. Nor did Lydia and Mr. Wickham wish to spend coin on a journey to Hertfordshire, to Elizabeth’s relief. It was terrible she had to accept Mr. Wickham as a brother, and would be doubly so if she must do it in person.

  A letter confirming the event arrived from Lydia, signed Lydia Wickham. Elizabeth’s mother insisted on showing it to everyone who called. Mrs. Gardiner also wrote, including in her letter a description of the occasion. Elizabeth suspected her aunt’s letter was more designed to confirm the wedding actually took place than anything else.

  Though Mrs. Bennet mourned the loss of a carriage, which would allow her to visit everyone she knew and talk about her married daughter, Elizabeth thought it a mercy. In spite of that restriction, her mother still managed to visit everyone within walking distance to give the good news. Both letters were read with a frequency that Kitty claimed to be able to recite them from memory.

  Though Mr. and Mrs. Wickham couldn’t afford the time or money to visit, Mrs. Bennet decided she had to have a celebratory dinner. Elizabeth, Mary and Mr. and Mrs. Phillips joined Mrs. Bennet and Kitty in Pine Cottage. They ate in the same room that served as the parlor. Two of the armchairs were brought to the table to supplement the seating, placed at the foot and head for balance.

  It was the first engagement Mrs. Bennet had hosted in her new home. Six of them crowded around the table and were served many fewer dishes than they would have had in Longbourn. There was enough food, and it was cooked well, though there were few choices. Mrs. Bennet spent much of the dinner bemoaning her impoverished state and the fact her favorite daughter couldn’t come for a visit. Though they’d all heard them, both letters were read several more times over the course of the evening.

  When they were finished, Kitty somewhat defiantly picked up two plates and started for the kitchen. Elizabeth copied her actions, entering to find the two servants were still working, one scrubbing a roasting pan and the other sweeping the floor. Elizabeth and Kitty made quick work of clearing the table while the others moved to the opposite side of the parlor. When they were done, Kitty whisked the table cloth off, carefully turning up the corners to catch the food. Elizabeth followed her outside. Crossing to where her new chickens lived, Kitty shook out the crumbs.

  Elizabeth watched the two scrawny hens flock to Kitty’s feet, if flock was the right word when there were only two. “You do this regularly?”

  Kitty nodded, giving the cloth a final shake before holding it up to examine. “Mama insists on a tablecloth for every meal.” Kitty looked critically at the tablecloth. “This will have to be washed, but usually we’re careful enough.”

  “Is she spending too much money?”

  “Not for the two of us, but she’s not saving anything.” Kitty frowned. “She moans about Papa not saving, but she could save. The Gardiners and the Phillips calculated that four people would live here, not two.”

  “It would be hard to save after living like she did before,” Elizabeth said, more to soothe Kitty than because she didn’t agree.

  “If she would just use some common sense, it would be easier.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh. Their mother and common sense were not close acquaintances.

  Kitty offered a rueful smile. “It’s true. The cottage has this chicken coop, and I’m raising chickens in it. That makes sense.”

  “Chickens? Is that what you call these?” Elizabeth said, her tone teasing as she gestured to the half-sized
birds at their feet.

  “They’re young. They’ll grow, if I have my way.”

  “Your way?”

  “Mama wanted to use them for tonight’s dinner, but I told her no.” Kitty jutted out her chin. “I bought them with my own money. They’re my chickens. I’m caring for them, and I intend to use them to raise more chickens.”

  “You know you need a rooster if you really want more chickens?”

  Kitty raised her eyebrows. “Yes, of course I know. I’m not Lydia. Mr. Collins said he would loan me a cock.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Good for you,” she settled for saying.

  “Have you heard about Mary?” Kitty asked, bundling up the tablecloth.

  “Heard what?” Elizabeth asked, noting the cheerful glint in Kitty’s eyes.

  “She’s been seen walking in the village with Mr. Mitchel, Uncle Phillips’ clerk.”

  “Really?” Elizabeth hadn’t heard, but she was pleased. She’d only ever met Mr. Mitchel in passing, but he seemed a nice sort. She thought back to dinner, trying to decide if Mary showed any signs of woolgathering, but couldn’t.

  Kitty nodded. “Maybe she’ll marry and I can go live with the Phillips.”

  “Maybe,” Elizabeth offered.

  “We best get back, or Mama will give me another lecture on how my chickens take more time and food than they’re worth.” Kitty rolled her eyes, turning toward the kitchen door.

  Back in the parlor, they entered to the sound of conversation. While they moved the table to the side and reclaimed the two armchairs, Elizabeth sorted out her family’s chatter.

  “. . . he was going to do something for someone, it should have been us,” her mother was saying in her usual tone of complaint. “No one has it so bad as we do. Someone should take up a collection for us, and buy us a lightning rod. With all the pines long gone, this cottage is vulnerable to being struck. Not that I would accept a lightning rod, of course. I don’t need charity.”

  “Who has a lightning rod?” Elizabeth asked, sitting.

  Her Uncle Philips turned to her. “The Millers. Mr. Darcy arranged for it before he left, and it’s up now. Hopefully that will put an end to their trouble with fire, though they still have sand on hand.”

  “Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth repeated, recalling the shilling he’d put in for the repair of the Millers’ home, and her uncharitable thoughts.

  “Yes. From what Mr. Collins says, he often does that sort of thing.”

  “I will not have that man’s name in my home,” Mrs. Bennet cried.

  “Mr. Darcy’s?” Aunt Phillips asked, sounding surprised.

  “Either.” Mrs. Bennet put a hand to her brow. “I do not care for rude young men who won’t give my lovely daughters a second glance, or for that usurper Collins. He is the very devil, living in my home.”

  “Now, now, Mrs. Bennet,” her uncle began.

  While the Phillips and Mary tried to both calm and refute Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth frowned, thinking. Mr. Darcy and John Lucas had been very smug the day Mr. Darcy left. Was arranging for a lightning rod what they’d been up to? Would they have said as much if Kitty hadn’t entered?

  Elizabeth had spent some thought on Mr. Darcy’s abrupt departure that day. She had the uncharitable idea he’d run off, disdainful of both scandal and anything to do with Mr. Wickham. Perhaps his hasty departure had another cause? Had he, in truth, been on his way to finish arranging for his gift to the Millers and realized staying would cost more time than he wished, in view of the uproar?

  Elizabeth could see the thought behind his gift of a lightning rod. Why rebuild without taking precautions against a repeat of the incident? The gift was kind, generous and eminently practical.

  Elizabeth sighed. It seemed she’d misjudged Mr. Darcy. Again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As the tumult and heartbreak receded, her fury didn’t return.

  For some reason, hearing that Elizabeth’s youngest sister and his former rival were happily wedded spurred John Lucas into finally going to Liverpool in pursuit of Miss King. He made no secret to Elizabeth and his family of where he was going or why, though he forwent mentioning it was Elizabeth’s idea. When he returned over a week later, dejected, he also made no secret of how his efforts were received.

  Miss King had welcomed him, but her uncle considered him a fortune hunter and kept them apart. John Lucas reported managing a brief private meeting with Miss King where he asked her to wait until she was of age. The bulk of his dejection seemed to stem from her reply that three years seemed like forever to her and she couldn’t promise anything.

  Elizabeth tried to see, but failed to detect, any marked antagonism toward her on John Lucas’ part. After three days, she was happy to conclude he failed to blame her for his state of misery. He, like she, must realize that at least he’d tried.

  The family was seated to dinner on the fourth day after his return when a pounding at the door was followed by the entrance of Miss Mary King. Her red hair was half down and her clothing showed signs of being slept in. She carried a small bag, which might have held one change of clothes.

  John stood as soon as she was shown into the room. “Mary,” he exclaimed, rushing to her side.

  She flung herself into his arms. “I couldn’t let him separate us.”

  Elizabeth stared at the young woman in shock, peering past her in vain for a chaperone. Belatedly, everyone else started to stand, Elizabeth along with them. Charlotte cast her an incredulous glance. Elizabeth replied with a shrug. She was as shocked as Charlotte.

  “Miss King,” Sir William said, his tone kind. “What a pleasant, if unexpected, surprise.”

  She stepped from John Lucas’ arms, smoothing her hands over a hopelessly wrinkled skirt before curtsying. “Sir William. Please forgive me for disturbing your dinner.”

  “Not at all, dear,” Lady Lucas said as she came around the table. “Would you like to join us? Or care to refresh yourself?”

  Miss King looked up at John Lucas, then around the room. “I . . . that is, I should like to refresh myself, thank you.”

  “Of course.” Lady Lucas turned back, her eyes finding Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, could you show Miss King to your room? I think it would be best if she shares with you for the time being.”

  “Yes, of course.” Elizabeth came around the table, offering John Lucas and Miss King a reassuring smile. She instantly comprehended that Lady Lucas had given her the additional role of chaperone, for there were empty bedrooms available. Elizabeth approved. A young woman who had traveled days by herself to reach a man might not baulk at the length of a hallway.

  “Miss King,” Elizabeth greeted.

  “Miss Bennet, thank you,” Miss King said, offering a weary smile. She exchanged a loving look with John Lucas before permitting Elizabeth to lead her away. As they traversed the hall, Elizabeth could hear Sir William behind her, demanding an explanation from his son.

  When they reached Elizabeth’s room, Miss King sank down on the edge of the bed. “I confess, I’d no idea traveling alone would be so difficult.” She offered another tired smile.

  “I imagine it was,” Elizabeth said, trying to hide her worry for the girl. If John Lucas didn’t still wish to marry her, Miss King was ruined. She’d be fit only for true fortune hunters.

  “I was hoping for the chance to speak to you in private, Miss Bennet.”

  “You were?” Elizabeth had never seen much of Miss King, outside of polite events. She couldn’t imagine what they would have to speak about. She hoped it wasn’t Lydia. Elizabeth didn’t want to learn her sister’s rash behavior was an example to other young women.

  “Please, sit with me a moment.”

  Slightly apprehensive, Elizabeth sat beside her on the edge of the bed.

  Miss King turned to face her. “I want to thank you.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Thank me?”

  “For advising John to come court me. I was so bedazzled by Mr. Wickham, I never saw how wonderful John is. Imag
ine coming all that way just on the chance that I might, well, care for him?”

  “You came the same distance,” Elizabeth pointed out.

  “But I knew he was here waiting for me, loving me.”

  “True enough.” Elizabeth offered a return smile. “Would you like me to send for water? Do you have anything to change into?”

  “It isn’t only that you sent him,” Miss King said, ignoring Elizabeth’s questions. She reached for Elizabeth’s hand, clasping it in both of her own. “You considered his happiness, and mine. I can’t see how you could have done it. You must be the kindest of souls. If he’d stayed, he might have fallen in love with you. I mean, you see him every day. How did you find it in your heart to give him up?”

  Elizabeth considered John Lucas to be rather shallow and not particularly bright, but in possession of a harmless good nature that made it pleasant for her to be in the same household with him. He was neither handsome nor ugly, being rather ordinary looking. She kept her features arranged in a way she hoped said nothing of those thoughts, endeavoring for an answer that didn’t display his defects. “I think his being my friend’s brother makes me think of him more as a brother than a romantic figure so, you see, I am not so noble as all that.”

  Miss King released Elizabeth’s hand, only to wrap her in a hug. “Then you shall be my sister.”

  “I hope so,” Elizabeth said, meaning she hoped Miss King and John Lucas would marry. She was not certain her status of being a sister would last.

  “Of course you shall be.” Miss King released her to offer a wide smile. “You taught both of us that true love is worth taking risks for.”

  Elizabeth renewed her prayers that all would turn out well for the couple, especially if Miss King intended to repeat that remark to others.