The Trials: A Pride and Prejudice Story

by Timothy Underwood

  Richard slowly put the cue stick back into the rack, leaving the remaining balls on the green felt table. “You are no killer.”

  “Elizabeth is innocent. I…I think of them killing her. I feel a terrible rage in my chest… My resolve is firm. I will pull the trigger if the time comes.”

  Richard held Darcy’s gaze. “You do not know, God you do not know what you are speaking of! Darcy, if it comes to it, if such an action is needed, I will be there next to you. But swear that you will let me pull the trigger.”

  “You have just married. I would need to flee with Elizabeth in any case and—”

  “When you speak of murder — it would be murder, you know that — that is a matter of the soul. That I would need to flee is incidental. Not of any importance next to that.”

  “It should be upon my soul. He wishes to murder Elizabeth. If they—” Darcy clenched his jaw so tightly that he felt pain in his cheeks.

  “If you wish my aid, you must swear that I shall be the one to shoot.”

  Darcy looked into his cousin’s eye. There was firmness and resolve there. The haunted confusion was gone.

  “I swear.”

  They shook hands.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The door to Elizabeth’s prison room was thrown open.

  Jane rushed in and threw her arms around Elizabeth and hugged her almost as tightly as Darcy had embraced her the previous night. “I cannot believe it! I cannot! How could someone murder your patron, and then for you to be blamed for it!”

  Both women held each other and cried together. Jane was as angelically beautiful as ever, and Elizabeth realized how much she had missed her sister in the months since they had met last, and even more in the two years since Jane’s marriage.

  “Oh, Jane! It is all going to be well now that you are here.”

  “And you to marry Mr. Darcy! It seems you did cease to dislike him. I am so glad. He was so kind when I spoke to him before coming. I am so pleased to see you — but surely, I cannot believe you have anything to worry about. You are so good! No one could imagine that you would even think about hurting Lady Catherine.”

  “It is you who is so good. I did not murder her, but…I could imagine myself hurting her.”

  “I am here to help you dress — your Mr. Darcy went off to gather the parson once he dropped me here.”

  Jane went back to the door. “Come in. Come in. With the package.”

  Pamela entered the room holding a wrapped package that Elizabeth thought was a dress, and she looked shyly at Elizabeth before lowering her eyes. “You do not mind if I help you dress again.”

  Elizabeth embraced the servant. “I would have no one else do it.”

  “Mr. Darcy said that if you wish it… I know I do not deserve it, I brought so much trouble on you and everyone else—”

  Elizabeth said with a kindly smile, “You did, but that is no matter if you learned a little.”

  “He said, he thought you might like…”

  “Pamela, I would be delighted if you took a position with me as my Lady’s maid. I have been to Pemberley and it is much nicer than Rosings.”

  She nodded up and down. “Thank you! Thank you! And I won’t ever do anything like this again, or consort with anyone like Mr. Wickham ever again, and I promise I will never be any trouble, at all.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Now do not go too far.”

  Both of them laughed.

  Jane clapped her hands. “I am delighted to meet you. Wait, we need that other parcel as well.”

  At Jane’s knock the guard who was always there opened the door again and stood aside so Jane could walk out into the corridor. His eyes followed her as she went out of sight for a moment and returned holding a bag with lacery and hair ribbons and several pieces of jewelry.

  Completely unconscious of the admiration she’d drawn, Jane smiled at Elizabeth. “It is such a joyous occasion — though an unfortunate location. I wish Henry could marry you, but he must stay to give the sermon tomorrow. Lizzy, let me look at you.”

  Elizabeth stood and smiled at her sister.

  Jane put her hands on her hips and frankly examined Elizabeth. “Yes, yes. The dress will do splendidly. I wish I had eyes like yours!” Jane held her hand up and spun her finger in a circle.

  In obedience to the command Elizabeth twirled around.

  “I am so delighted to be here — I always feared I would not be able to come to your wedding; fares to travel are so dear. But your kind Mr. Darcy paid everything.”

  “I thought I would not marry.”

  “Do not be ridiculous.”

  The dress Jane had brought was held up so that Elizabeth could examine and admire it. It was a lovely creamy silky dress, and it nearly fit Elizabeth. They only had to use a little bit of pins and sewing to make the dress fit as it ought.

  As they worked, Elizabeth and Jane exchanged gossip and stories. Elizabeth almost felt she were just a girl who was preparing to marry the man she loved — not a woman suspected of murder.

  Once the dress was settled, Jane and Pamela had Elizabeth sit down. Pamela piled her hair into an elaborate arrangement.

  When they finished, Jane sighed happily. “You look as beautiful as a bride should. You look just as beautiful as you always do, even without curls. I would be quite hideous.”

  “Jane, if anyone but you said that, I would suspect they were fishing for a compliment.”

  “Oops.” Jane giggled. “It sounded like that. I know I am not actually hideous without curls — but I cannot look my best without them, while you do.”

  They laughed together.

  The sound of a carriage rumbling into the yard floated through the window.

  Jane frowned beautifully. “I dearly hope that is not an overeager Mr. Darcy. You are not nearly beautiful enough for him to see you yet.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I hope it is him. He is always handsome enough for me to look at.”

  Running footsteps came up the stairs and hallway. The door was opened once more, with the guard standing there, glancing in to see if he could catch a glimpse of Jane once more.

  Emma rushed into the room, and she squeezed and squeezed Elizabeth. “I was so, so scared. But Mr. Darcy promises you will be fine! Forgive me; this was all my fault if only I hadn’t—”

  “Oh, honey, you are so brave and perfect. None of this was your fault.”

  “I shouldn’t have been angry and begged you to not leave me, if you had just stayed all night—”

  “I am quite sure that if I had, fate would have conspired to protect Lady Catherine. Is Miss de Bourgh… Mrs. Fitzwilliam, treating you well?”

  Jane exclaimed, “This is your pupil! She is adorable! My sister writes very much about how she adores you.”

  Suddenly realizing there was a stranger in the room Emma reddened and looked down and squeezed herself closer to Elizabeth in a completely pretty expression of shyness.

  Elizabeth prodded Emma, “Do not be like that! This is Jane; I have told you about her so much you should feel like you know her. Now curtsey and let me introduce you.”

  Emma daintily walked far enough away from Elizabeth to curtsey to Jane.

  Elizabeth said, “You two shall be the best of friends.”

  “You are so pretty!”

  Jane laughed at Emma’s exclamation. “You are sweet.”

  Elizabeth touched Emma’s shoulder. “But Mrs. Fitzwilliam, how does she treat you?”

  “Oh! Mr. Darcy is going to be my guardian! We are all going to live together once you are free!”

  Elizabeth grinned at her. “Truly? We will all live together?”

  “Yes! Mr. Darcy let me be there when Meanie Annie signed the papers!”

  Elizabeth reflexively said, “Don’t call your cousin that.” She then laughed. “Perhaps you might. She did sign you away to the first man who asked.”

  Emma giggled. “We shall all be a family — and Mama will be watching from heaven and we shall all be happy.”


  Elizabeth hugged Emma and she began weeping. “I am so happy. I fear — but no, today I shall just be happy.”

  Jane wiped Elizabeth’s tears off. Her eyes were also shiny. “Oh, you should not do that. You will mess up your face. You do not want to look blotchy!”

  Elizabeth smiled through her tears. “Nothing can ruin this day.”

  Some time later the carriage rolled up once more, and Darcy arrived with the parson from the village by Rosings wearing his clerical robes. Darcy’s face was suffused with an expression of complete happiness when he looked at her, and Elizabeth blinked rapidly to keep the happy tears from flowing again.

  “Elizabeth, here.” He gave her a simple bouquet of flowers to hold, and she took them and smelled the freshly cut roses.

  “Thank you. I… No matter what happens.”

  “Shhh. Nothing of that.”

  “I am so happy, so full of gratitude, so… I have such a deep, fond attachment to you. And I am already crying. Jane will be cross with me for it.”

  Darcy embraced her tightly and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, and we shall look back on this day, when we are old and grey and wrinkled, and we will think on how much happiness we have felt together.”

  “Yes. Yes. We shall.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam was with Darcy and he had a serious mien. He was to be the second witness. He gravely shook Elizabeth’s hand and the grim line of his mouth did not soften. “I still am glad that we shall be related. Miss Bennet, I know that you shall make an excellent wife for my cousin.”

  After everyone had been introduced, the ceremony started. Elizabeth and Darcy stood in front of the parson, while the parish clerk, Pamela, Jane, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Emma stood behind them to witness.

  The vicar opened the large leather bound common prayer book, and he held it firmly in his hands. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here together, in the sight of God to join this man and this woman together in holy Matrimony…”

  Elizabeth looked into Darcy’s eyes. The words of the benediction flowed through her. Love and happiness shined from his eyes.

  When the time came to exchange vows, the parson asked, “Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Darcy replied in a firm voice, “I will.”

  “Elizabeth Bennet, wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  “I will.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam gave Darcy the ring. He tenderly placed it upon Elizabeth’s left hand. They kneeled before the parson.

  The vicar spoke the prayer of marriage over them in his smooth voice. Then he took Elizabeth’s right hand and joined it to Darcy’s. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”

  —-

  Darcy had brought a package of clothes with him, and he moved into the room at the top of the gaol with Elizabeth. That night and the days which followed were full of precious moments and happiness. The cloud that hung over them made each moment seem filled with meaning and beautiful to Darcy.

  He would not lose Elizabeth; he would not let that happen. But he saw the fragility of life. He held Elizabeth, and laughed with Elizabeth, and talked with Elizabeth about everything. They both experienced a special intensity.

  Darcy met his lawyers and the men he had called to Kent from Pemberley at the gaol or at the nearest inn, where he had taken the entire suite of upstairs rooms. But each night he returned to Elizabeth and fell asleep with his arms around her.

  Emma visited Elizabeth every day, and she had been moved into the rooms at the inn Darcy had taken. Pamela kept an eye on her for most of the day, since she had no other real duties with her new mistress not being at liberty to attend any grand entertainments, or go about calling.

  Two days before Elizabeth’s trial, Darcy rode back to Rosings. He needed to confer with Richard, and the men he’d had brought from Pemberley were still boarded either at Rosings or at the inn in the nearest town. He had not been back to the grand house since his marriage.

  It was a beautiful day, so once he’d pulled up in front of the wooden stable building, Darcy decided to look for Richard in the gardens before sending a footman after him.

  Darcy found Anne instead of Richard. She sat in the garden alone for once, with a bottle of wine next to her. As Darcy watched she picked it up and took a long swallow directly from the bottle before putting it down.

  That was unexpected.

  Darcy smiled slightly, but he felt an edge of worry for his cousin. He did not think she would take her mother’s death so hard.

  Anne stood shakily to her feet. But she tripped and stumbled to her knee.

  Darcy hurried forward to help her rise, but she pushed Darcy’s hand away angrily. The light green cotton of her dress had torn. Anne waved her hands wildly. “Look! See! You did this too!”

  Darcy blinked and shook his head. “Let me help you.”

  Anne wobbled from side to side. Then she steadied herself with her hand on the back of the chair. There was a wild look in her eyes. She slapped at his face, but missed and struck Darcy’s chin. “How dare you!”

  Darcy stepped away from his cousin. “Madam, I do not know what you speak of.”

  “She killed my mother. How dare you side against me? Against the family.”

  “Elizabeth did not kill your mother.”

  Anne shook her head side to side violently, and her wild curls flapped back and forth over her face. “She did! Everyone will see.”

  “Anne, let me explain the evidence. I had not realized you believed—”

  “I know! What you are doing! I know it. You plan to break her out by force once they prove she killed my mother.”

  Darcy felt cold in his stomach. “I do not know what you are speaking of.”

  “You placed your men in my lands. You asked my husband to aid you! You married my mother’s murderer.”

  “Elizabeth did not kill your mother.”

  “Ha!”

  “She could not have. The surgeon is confident a man made the blow which killed your mother.”

  “A man! Do you accuse yourself then?”

  “I was not here.”

  “No! You paid someone perhaps.”

  “Anne!”

  She sneered. “You are no real man. You could not do it.”

  “That would not have made me more of a man.”

  “Miss Bennet is more of a man than you. She butchered my mother. She ripped that gash in mother’s throat!” Anne snarled. “Men! You never see what we can do! My mother proved a determined woman could do great things. A woman driven by cause enough could drive the knife clean through a woman’s windpipe. That damned surgeon is a fool like you.”

  Darcy felt cold. A sudden idea came to him. “Did…did you do it?”

  She sneered. “This is the best you can manage? I despise you. Fitzwilliam Darcy, I despise you from the base of my soul. Ha! And you accuse me of murdering my own mother! Get out.”

  “Anne—”

  “I will watch your governess hang. I’ve never watched a hanging before. She wouldn’t let me. But I have done a great many new things of late. This will be my favorite. Get out.”

  If Anne spoke against Elizabeth at the trial…the evidence still spoke against Elizabeth’s guilt. It rattled in his head: A woman driven by cause enough!

  Anne had every opportunity and motive.

  Darcy walked away from Rosings in a daze. He stopped in the village and went into the common room, ignoring the crowd, and sat down at a table. The innkeeper asked if he could bring Darcy something. Darcy felt a terrible desire for alcohol to numb his stomach. He craved it.

  He did not order anything and waved away the innkeepe
r. Darcy stared at the varnished wood of the table. One of the knots in the wood looked vaguely like a gibbet. Darcy rubbed his palm over the smoothed surface to hide the image from his sight.

  I will watch your governess hang.

  Richard entered the room at a brisk pace and sat next to Darcy. “Where is your drink?” He called to the innkeeper. “Whisky, your best.”

  “Of course, my lords.”

  “You have Annie in a right angry state.” Richard’s face was a little amused. “She is throwing your valet out with all of your trunks. Not that you were planning to sleep at Rosings again, but the room is gone. What did you say to her?”

  “She wants to see Elizabeth hang.”

  Richard smiled. “Do not be ridiculous.”

  “No. Look at me.” Darcy placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder. “She is desperate to see Elizabeth proven the killer.”

  The innkeeper put two tumblers on the table, already filled, and a bottle of fine scotch whose painted label proclaimed that it had been aged for twenty years. Richard gulped it back like it had been brewed by a peasant distillery that was hiding from the excisemen to avoid taxes.

  “Very fine. Very fine. Drink up, man! You are married: you should be drinking.”

  “I have never been happier.”

  “Neither have I.” Richard laughed. “The wonder of Bacchus is that he is there for celebration as well as mourning. Annie is merely jealous of Elizabeth.”

  “Jealous? She said she wanted to see my wife hang. She wants to see my wife hang. She said she would watch Elizabeth hang. Do you understand? That is no jealousy.”

  “Did she?” Richard’s lips stilled. “What had you said to Anne?”

  “I…” Anne would tell Richard in any case. Darcy picked up the tumbler and cautiously sniffed at the whisky, before taking a small sip that he let swim in his mouth.

  “Toss it back. We have the money to drink more of this than we could possibly want.”

  Darcy followed Richard’s instructions and drank the whole glass in one deep swallow. His cousin refilled the glass.

  “Anne… She was so sure a woman could make the cut which killed Lady Catherine. Like she knew. She said I had been a coward for not considering murder. Why would she say that if she hadn’t…”