The Trials: A Pride and Prejudice Story

by Timothy Underwood

  Anne sat quietly in the hothouse when Darcy entered it. She had not heard him open the door, so he watched her — his soon to be betrothed — carefully snip the flowers for a minute.

  Darcy felt numb inside, as though he’d received a mortal wound and his interior bled from it, but the shock was too great for him to feel the injury yet. But that was unfair. He looked at Anne. He studied her person. He was repulsed by the thought of sleeping with her. But it was not her fault that he’d never found her person beautiful. It was her fault though that she was too quiet, yet filled with her mother’s arrogance.

  Anne stood up and she gasped. “Darcy! Such a shock — what brought you here — Oh, no.” Her face turned pale. “My mother. She has called you.”

  “Yes, your mother.” Darcy’s voice came out in a fast angry clip. “Anne, I have no choice but to ask for your hand. I will marry you if you agree.” Her thin face was pale and she stared wide eyed at him. But she said nothing. Darcy added in a growl, “Do answer and make me the happiest man in the world.”

  The woman flinched and looked towards a bright yellow and orange blossom. She stared quietly at it with a tightly closed expression. The cast of her face told Darcy she was on the verge of tears.

  Darcy unclenched his hands and let out a long breath of air. Women cared a great deal for the nature of a proposal speech. It was not Anne’s fault; the desire for their union was Lady Catherine’s, not her daughter’s. “I apologize… It is not you, who…”

  “She found some manner with which to control you at last.” Anne sighed. She stared at her hands. For a long time nothing was said.

  Despite the cloudy sky that had blotted out the blue of the earlier afternoon, the air in the greenhouse was warm and humid, and there was a rich smell of wet dirt and growing plants thick on the air. The flowers bloomed in a profusion of purple, orange, yellow and red. Anne twined her fingers together and shuffled her feet, looking side to side.

  Darcy sat down on the small bench in the glass room. “Though this marriage is not what I wish, I promise to always respect you and treat you as I ought, and if there is some consideration you wish as my wife…”

  “I do not wish to marry you any more than you wish to marry me! I love another, and I believe he loves me, and I hoped… Oh it doesn’t matter! I was stupid! I hoped Mother would forget about you, or she would…die. I’ve prayed for her to die. But while she lives…”

  Anne shivered. “You shall not escape this fate due to my refusal. I suppose she shall wish it quickly.”

  “As soon as the banns are read. She wishes it to be done properly, and there is enough time for that before Georgiana’s wedding. I am to remain at Rosings until then. I will ask Georgiana and Chancey to come for our wedding and during our wedding trip we will go to see her married.”

  “Ah.” Anne looked down again. She seemed to care little for his plans. She entwined her fingers together again, pressing them together until they were white. Tears leaked out the edge of her eyes.

  Darcy believed he ought to comfort his betrothed. Perhaps he should put his arm around her, the way the man would to a woman he loved. They were to be married.

  Nothing could possibly be more awkward, and he barely knew her.

  He sat still and his mind wandered. He would need to write to Georgiana, and he must not let her see how unhappy he was, or else she might suspect the real cause of his marriage.

  Suddenly Anne spoke in vibrant yet quiet voice, “I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.”

  Darcy looked at Anne. He hoped she would show some spirit and refuse him, as she ought. Instead she said, “I accept your kind proposal, Mr. Darcy. I am sure we will be very happy together.”

  Chapter Four

  “Emma, don’t run in the halls — you might run into someone!”

  The young girl laughed as she sped around the corner. Emma always became rambunctious when it was known there was little chance of seeing Lady Catherine. From around the corner there was a loud ooof of two bodies colliding, and then a girlish giggle.

  With trepidation Elizabeth went to see what had happened.

  The girl had run into a very tall man with broad shoulders and finely cared for tan buckskin breeches that molded admirably to his hips and the muscular curves of his legs. His smooth lips curled into a handsome and tolerant smile.

  Emma backed away from him with a downcast shy look.

  Elizabeth’s first thought was that this gentleman looked very well indeed. “I do apologize for my ch-charge…” Elizabeth began blushingly, and then she trailed off and stared into the deep eyes of Mr. Darcy.

  He held her gaze. Shock was in his eyes as well.

  Elizabeth recalled, clearly as day, that last moment of their last meeting. Those same deep blue eyes, his hand holding out the letter, his eyes holding hers. She still kept that letter hidden amongst her most precious belongings.

  His words: Will you do me the honor of reading that letter.

  Emma drew back behind Elizabeth with a shy look.

  Darcy said in a hoarse voice, “Good God! Elizabeth — Miss Bennet, pardon me — are you still Miss Bennet? — what do you do here? To meet you today, of all days. And here.”

  Elizabeth flushed uncontrollably at the intent look, and the way he instinctively asked her marital status. She replied quietly, “I am still Miss Bennet.”

  His eyes had grown so deep. Elizabeth remembered he’d asked about what she did, but in that moment she felt such an awkwardness, and a hatred of revealing to him how she had fallen in the world and been forced to work for her survival.

  It was a shameful thing to meet a person who had known her in the better days. Before Lydia’s destruction of their name, before her father’s death, before her uncle’s bankruptcy. When she was full of money and shine. It was worse to see Mr. Darcy. He would exult at his escape if he knew of all that had happened to her family.

  “You are? Good… I mean, I hope you are happy…and your family, are they well? Of course they are not. Your father died — My deepest condolences, I never spoke more than a few words to him, but he was a clever man who had nurtured you.”

  Elizabeth felt hot and cold and grief-stricken once again; something she hadn’t felt for years. She saw her father that last time they met before she had left for the North, his sharp smile and his hands cradling a book. She looked away from those deep penetrating eyes. “I thank you.”

  “Miss Bennet, I have long wished… I have thought of you often. It was once my dearest wish that we… But tell me, are you well? Why are you here? Here of all places — surely you cannot seek out my aunt for her own sake?”

  Elizabeth placed her hand on Emma’s shoulder and looked at the sweet babyish cheeks of her girl. Her life had gone in directions no gentlewoman would wish, and there were hardships which she had faced, but Elizabeth did not repent. “I am Miss Williams’s governess.”

  She squatted slightly and pushed Emma forward, to avoid looking to see how he took the information. “Would you like to meet Mr. Darcy? He is Anne’s cousin.”

  Elizabeth now looked at Darcy and studied his face closely. He was clearly surprised, but he did not draw back, instead he looked at her with a softer smile, one that seemed not pitying but understanding.

  Emma shyly examined Darcy, and then when he looked at her, she blushed and looked away, making an awkward curtsey. Emma’s expression showed that Darcy’s relation to Anne and Lady Catherine was no recommendation to her good opinion.

  Darcy bowed elaborately to the little girl. His expression was a little silly. “It is a delight to meet you. I dearly hope you do not give Miss Bennet much trouble. I am quite fond of her. She is a most excellent person.”

  At this Emma’s face became wreathed with a smile, and she nodded eagerly. “Miss Lizzy is wonderful! She is almost as nice as my mother was!”

  “Then your mother must have been very nice.”

  Elizabeth laughingly pushed Emma’s head. “You do not need to brag about me, I shall not
punish you for the truth.”

  “I believe she did tell the truth.” Darcy winked at Emma, and the girl giggled. Just like that Emma had decided she liked Mr. Darcy. Without yet knowing why, Elizabeth was glad about it.

  “Miss Williams — that is a very nice last name, is your first name as pretty?”

  She glanced at Elizabeth, and then smiled at Darcy. “It is Emma.”

  “Emma! That is one of the very best names I have ever heard. Your mother was quite a genius at naming things.”

  “She was. She could name anything! She would walk around and point out things to me, and have me remember the names for everything. Lizzy does that too!”

  “Does she?”

  Mr. Darcy looked back at her with his broad grin. “That is a clever way to teach the words.”

  Goodness! From Darcy’s expression Elizabeth was sure that he enjoyed the interaction. She never would have guessed he was so sweet with children, and yet it did not surprise her at all. Elizabeth bit her lip and beamed back at him.

  “So, Emma — do you mind if I use your Christian name? I believe we are to be the best of friends. How long has Miss Lizzy” — Darcy smirked at her as he used the shortening of the name — “been your governess?”

  “Fie! Darcy, fie!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Trying to pull information from a child.”

  Emma said, “Four months! I was very sad before that, because my Mama had died, and because I was all alone, and because Lady Catherine is always so mean to me, and there was nothing to do, and I was in trouble any time I did anything fun. This house is so ugly! But when Lizzy came, it all was much better. I love her.”

  “That is a quite wise attitude.”

  Emma nodded in decided agreement.

  “I thought I would hate her because I hate Lady Catherine, but—”

  “Emma! Don’t say such things.”

  “But—”

  “No—” Darcy’s pleasant smile fell away in an instant and he straightened and put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “You are as wise in hating Lady Catherine as you are in…in loving Lizzy.”

  “She is awful! She always orders Lizzy to punish me, but she never does.”

  Darcy’s face hardened. “Yes, that sounds quite like Lady Catherine.”

  The warm mood of a minute before was gone, but Elizabeth felt some little hope that while he was here Darcy might do something to change Lady Catherine’s behavior. But Elizabeth doubted it. The cry, Spare the rod, spoil the child, echoed again in Elizabeth’s mind.

  She shivered and turned to Darcy. “For how long shall you be here? What matter brought you to Rosings Park?”

  Darcy frowned deeply. He shook himself. “I am deeply sorry, Miss Bennet, but I must attend other matters. It was… I am glad that I did see you again… I always wondered how you did. Emma, I do beg you to never let Lady Catherine… Be happy, and treat Miss Bennet well.”

  With a formal bow Darcy left.

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. That was a strange end to a pleasant ten minutes. At least he was not going to act as though she were diseased in the way a few of her acquaintances had. But he did not know about Lydia, or even about her uncle. Perhaps later he would look at her in scorn.

  He was so handsome, and while he clearly was unhappy to be visiting his aunt, it was clear from his features that his star was still in ascendance, while she was now a shell of who she had been. Perhaps that was what he had realized when he left. Something had reminded him that she now was a governess, and thus a creature deserving of nothing but pity.

  Later that evening Elizabeth brought Emma to the kitchen for them to collect their dinner. Elizabeth’s mind still revolved about Darcy.

  Would she have another chance to see him before he left? It had always been easy before this to say that she did not regret any of her refusals. But Darcy had been so…kind.

  Elizabeth shook herself as she entered the kitchen, carefully holding Emma’s hand since she did not like to see the girl run about with the boiling pots and open fires in the stone room attached to the main house.

  If she had married Mr. Darcy, she would never have been Emma’s governess. Instead the girl would have a governess who worshipped her Ladyship the way Mr. Collins had.

  The oppressive heat of the ovens met them when they entered the kitchen, only slightly helped by the warm breeze blowing through the open windows. But it was worth the smell. Elizabeth licked her lips hungrily as she thought of the taste of the rich beef soup simmering in a large pot.

  The cook, Mrs. Shore, jovially smiled at them and put a tray on one of the counters for them, followed by a pair of bowls and plates. “Down for your meals?”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth grinned. “It has been the sole matter we have looked forward to all day. Has anything of interest happened today?”

  “We are having a quite great to-do. The lady’s nephew, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, has come unexpectedly. He is to be here for a month, and I must make sure the food is worthy of him. He is very wealthy, you know.”

  “I had heard.”

  “And very handsome! Perhaps you shall see him — if Lady Catherine calls you and Emma down after dinner.”

  Some nights Lady Catherine wished to observe the girl and lecture her about her behavior.

  It was a sign of her ladyship’s great generosity that she was willing to expend some effort to correct the deficiencies that came from Emma’s nature, and the terrible influence Emma had received for her first years from her sinful mother. She also took the opportunity to question Elizabeth about how she had managed Emma, to which Elizabeth responded with a mixture of honesty and bald faced lies. The lies were always rehearsed with Emma to make sure their stories to the old lady agreed.

  “I saw Mr. Darcy already. Emma and I spoke with him.”

  “You did! Is he not the handsomest gentleman you have ever seen? Or perhaps he has changed. It has been some four years since he visited last. In the Spring of ’12”

  Elizabeth blinked. Had he then not visited since their time? Since she had refused him? It was perhaps self-centered to think it had anything to do with her, yet Elizabeth could not help but think it suggested he had a continued sensibility towards her.

  Emma exclaimed, “Mr. Darcy was such a nice man! And he liked Miss Lizzy very much.” Emma was comfortable enough with Mrs. Shore to speak in front of her. Elizabeth also knew that the statement was a bid for the cook’s attention so she would remember to give her a sweet treat.

  “Oh-ho! He did, did he?” Mrs. Shore laughed and looked down at Emma’s wide, sweet eyes which blinked up at her. “Such a nice girl! — A fine job you’ve made of her, she was wild the first two months she was here. A girl that young needs someone to pay her special attention.”

  Mrs. Shore opened up the jar with the biscuits and handed one to Emma and then took one herself which she stuffed into her mouth. “So Mr. Darcy liked you?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I had known him before.”

  Mrs. Shore ladled out the soup for them into bowls and ordered her assistant to slow down how quickly she turned the spit with the goose. “Evenly, evenly! It will not cook properly if you turn it about like it is some water pump.”

  Emma had shoveled the biscuit into her mouth which now was far too full to speak. Elizabeth laughed and poked her, “If you wish to be a perfect gentlewoman one day, you must eat a little slower.”

  Emma nodded and swallowed part of her mouthful.

  Mrs. Shore exclaimed, “I recall! The last time he visited was when you were in the country as well. You were a guest of that vicar with the very dull sermons — not that I would speak against the Lord, or your friends, and he was a pious man, I am sure—”

  Elizabeth smiled. “The vicar with the very dull sermons. ‘Tis as good a description of Mr. Collins as any I have ever heard. He always has been very…wholesome,” Elizabeth added with a disarming smile. “But you can speak against him as much as you please. He was my father’s heir and wasted no time in throwing us out upon my
father’s death — do you know, I could have been Mrs. Collins instead of poor Charlotte.”

  “My word!”

  “Yes, though if you look at me now, you’d not think it, I have received eligible offers.”

  Mrs. Shore turned from examining the roast her attendant was turning to study Elizabeth. “Nay — you shall not get away with that. No fake humbleness. You look like a rose, and you know it. You are a fetching young creature still. I am the one whose beauty passed by some thirty years ago. A guest of her Ladyship, or some gentleman you meet at church, will give you a look, and you’ll smile back at him, and then we’ll need to find another lady to manage Emma — do you regret those refusals?”

  Elizabeth looked at Emma who looked at her with something like worry. “I would never leave my little girl here. Never. I do not regret them at all — maybe one, but I hardly know.”

  “You may pretend not to care. But for a body to have their life changed so much. You ought have accepted that Mr. Collins, even though he was very dull. Your family could have stayed in their place. It would have been the proper thing to do.”

  “My mother never forgave me. I do not blame her for that though. I did act contrary to her interest.”

  “I would be shamed to end up a governess after refusing a gentleman like that. But not everyone chooses the same — it must have been a shameful moment, to meet Mr. Darcy again. He is so noble and grand. And you had known him as a fellow guest of the house and now you are barely better than a servant. ”

  “Mr. Darcy was all kindness. He was…different than I expected. I am used to…feeling shame, but…Mr. Darcy was all kindness.”

  Mrs. Shore looked at Elizabeth critically. “Do not become porridge minded over him. They say he’ll marry a duke’s daughter, or Miss de Bourgh.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I have seen him in a room with Miss de Bourgh many times, and they never had a single word to speak to each other. That shall not happen.”

  A young woman of about seventeen pranced into the room and laid a kiss on Mrs. Shore’s cheek. “Hello, auntie. Have you seen that very, very handsome gentleman who just arrived? He is almost as handsome as that other gentleman. Though he did not flirt with me at all. Miss Bennet! You look well tonight. You must see Mr. Darcy. He looks very handsome — if you see him you shall agree with me.”