by P. O. Dixon
“Yes, I promise. Pray do not keep me in suspense a moment longer.”
Jane brought the doll forward. “I call her Lizzy.”
Elizabeth suffered feelings akin to being lost in time. She took the doll in her hands and clutched it to her chest. Falling to her knees, she wept.
~*~
Lady Sophia and Mrs. Gardiner were having tea and speaking of the latest London fashions when the latter thought to praise her ladyship’s daughter.
“Lady Elizabeth is a fine young woman, but I am sure you do not need me to tell you that. Still, I feel compelled to do just that. She is poised, charming, and witty. No doubt, she has a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. What’s more, she possesses a certain something in her air and manner of walking.”
“Indeed. Although boasting of one’s own child is not the thing to do, I must confess my daughter is truly accomplished.”
“Yes, but it is hardly boasting when it is true, would you not agree? Lady Elizabeth is everything a young woman ought to be.”
Her ladyship nodded. “Your niece, Miss Bennet, is quite an amazing creature. I am sure she is well received wherever she goes.”
“Indeed, I am exceedingly proud of the young woman she has become. She suffered a terrible loss as a child—we all did. For a long time, I feared she would never recover.”
“What manner of loss did Miss Bennet suffer, if I may ask?”
“It was the loss of her young sister, Elizabeth.” Pausing a moment in solemn reflection of that sorrowful time, Mrs. Gardiner said, “We called her Lizzy.”
A chord of panic rang through Lady Sophia, and she felt compelled to share her own loss. “Indeed, I know what it is like to have lost a child. My first daughter, Lady Bethany, was taken away from me when she was much too young.” Her ladyship reached for her handkerchief and raised it to her eye. “She died in a carriage accident.”
Mrs. Gardiner leaned closer and placed her hand on Lady Sophia’s arm. “I am sorry to hear that, your ladyship. I am sure nothing can ever take the place of one’s child. I imagine having Lady Elizabeth and His Grace must have been a great comfort to you all these years.”
Here was a woman Lady Sophia believed she could trust to keep her secret, and with Mrs. Gardiner’s being outside her ladyship’s social sphere, she need not worry over the prospect of a severe judgment. It would not be fair to Elizabeth were I to confide in a stranger that which Elizabeth has yet to learn.
How desperately she wanted to tell someone the truth. Others in her circle had to know. It seemed a given that she would raise another woman’s child as her own, and furthermore, it was not the thing to do to talk about it. Perhaps it was out of respect for the duke. More likely, it was out of fear of the duke’s retribution, but the duke was gone, and Lady Sophia could no longer justify not telling Elizabeth the truth. I must tell her as soon as we return to our own home. Pray she will understand.
~*~
A fog of despair hovered over the apartment. Rocking back and forth, Elizabeth found herself in Jane’s comforting embrace. Through her tears, Elizabeth said, “This is my doll.”
“Lizzy?”
Elizabeth shook her head, and seconds later, both young ladies wept. Their tears, however, were not those of sorrow; they were tears of joy.
When they finally composed themselves, Elizabeth and Jane moved from the floor to the bed and commenced piecing together the puzzle of their lives, or at least the parts as they understood them.
“Dearest Jane, you must tell me everything there is to know. Have we sisters? Have we brothers?”
Elizabeth’s mention of brothers caused Jane’s countenance to cloud. Elizabeth said, “Pray what is the matter?”
“I am afraid any discussion of brothers is a sore point in my family. Indeed, we have three other siblings – all daughters – which has placed a strain on my mother’s sensibilities, I fear. What she desperately longed for was a male child—that he might save our family from the entail on the estate.”
“I have heard of those. It has to do with the property passing to the male line of the family, does it not?”
“Indeed it does. In our case the heir is a Mr. William Collins, who may turn us out into the hedgerows as soon as he pleases upon my father’s passing.” Recalling herself to the spirit of the moment, Jane said, “Oh, but now is not the time to dwell on all that. Let us spend this time discussing the happier aspects of our lives. You will adore all our sisters.”
“Pray tell me everything there is to know about them. And my father and my mother; I should like to know all about them as well. Oh, Jane! There is so much that I have to learn about the life I have missed out on all these years.”
Jane threw her arms around her sister and held her tightly. “My dearest Lizzy, I never forgot you. You have been a constant companion in my dreams for as long as I can recall.”
Chapter 26 ~ A Solitary Goal
Elizabeth’s attitude bore an odd mixture of sadness and joy by the time she left Jane’s room. One of the most painful parts of what she was feeling was in not knowing exactly what had brought all this about. That and who else knew. Jane had told Elizabeth the story of how she had gone missing on the streets of Lambton. Elizabeth was on her way to see Lady Sophia to puzzle the rest together.
“Where have you been?” a familiar voice called out.
Elizabeth turned around and saw Avery heading her way.
“I was about to commence searching the grounds out of fear that something was amiss,” said he, now standing directly before her.
“Why? Were you afraid that I might have been abducted?”
“Lady Elizabeth—”
She crossed one arm over the other. “Do not call me that!”
His eyes opened wide. “You know.”
“How long have you known? Or rather, have you known all along?”
“Of course not. I only learned of the disturbing history of your past recently.”
“Who else knows the truth? Our mother—pardon, Lady Sophia?”
His voice hardened with resolve, Avery said, “No! Our mother does not know. Moreover, make no mistake; she is our mother, just as I am your brother. I have been and I always will be your brother. No twist of history will change that.” He took Elizabeth by her arm. “Come with me in order that we might speak in privacy.”
“No—not until you tell me everything. Who else knows?”
“Darcy knows.”
“Mr. Darcy?”
Avery would say no more until the two of them found an unoccupied sitting room. There they settled themselves for the long overdue talk—the talk he dreaded, for it included all the sordid details of his grandfather’s misdeeds. One by one, he answered all of Elizabeth’s questions, which were many, until she accepted that the former duke’s crime was his and his alone and was in no way attributable to Avery or Lady Sophia. The former’s greatest part in the scheme was that of being a loving, albeit overprotective, big brother. Lady Sophia’s was that of being a loving mother to one she truly believed was a motherless child.
At length, Avery and Elizabeth emerged from the room with a solitary goal in mind: to break the heartrending news to Lady Sophia. How odd Elizabeth felt to find herself in such a position, for not only was she the victim in all this, but she had her own injured feelings to suffer through. How odd it was to mourn the loss of a life she never got the chance to know, while rejoicing in the opportunity to reclaim that life, and at the same time, embrace the possibility that life as she knew it would never be the same again. It must be done. It was better that she and Avery did it together.
They found Lady Sophia sitting in the window seat of her apartment, embracing the sun’s warmth against her skin. How calm and peaceful she looked. It tugged at Elizabeth’s heart that what they were about to discuss would be the means of shattering her ladyship’s happiness as well, perhaps forever.
After turning her head from the window to face them, Lady Sophia
said, “Avery, Elizabeth, by the looks of the two of you, I would say you have lost your best friend.”
Elizabeth fought to hold back her tears. How she loved this woman—the only mother she could recall knowing. She could not bear the thought of losing this wonderful lady—of not having her be a vital part of her life. She hurried across the room and embraced Lady Sophia tightly.
Moments later, Avery invited his mother and Elizabeth to come sit with him. The three of them soon settled down for what Elizabeth surmised would be yet another one of the most heart-wrenching experiences in her young life.
Lady Sophia’s astonishment upon hearing all Elizabeth and Avery had to say was beyond expression. She stared, colored, and was silent. When at last she was prepared to speak, she took Elizabeth by her hand. “Pray you will forgive my part in all this. You cannot know how many times I wanted to tell you the truth—at least, the truth as I thought I knew and understood it to be.”
“Avery told me how much you longed to tell me that you and I are not of the same blood—how the duke forbade it. I more than anyone know how he demanded blind allegiance to his will. I know you had no choice.” Even as she spoke the words, Elizabeth could not find it in herself to instill in them the bitterness that must certainly be warranted, owing to his misdeeds.
Then again, His Grace must surely have suffered too, Elizabeth could not help considering. Elizabeth began to wonder if the burden of his secret, nay, his lies had weighed so heavily upon his conscience to the detriment of his health. Is that why he surrendered so easily to the illness that ultimately claimed his life?
“No, my dear. One always has choices. It was just easier to choose the duke’s. I never wanted you to think of me as anything other than your mother—not even as a stepmother. I love you with all my heart and soul. You must believe me. I never meant to cause you the pain you surely must be suffering.”
“It is true. I am deeply wounded by all that has unfolded.”
“Elizabeth, my darling, pray you will understand what I am about to say. I will not try to defend the duke’s misdeeds, except to say that he loved you dearly. You cannot have known what the loss of the marquis and little Bethany did to him—to all of us. You came to our family at a time when we needed you the most. You were a blessing.” Tears ran down her ladyship’s face.
“Still, a crime borne out of grief does not make it any less heinous.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “What he did was wrong. I would never have been a party to his scheme had I known the truth.”
Elizabeth hated seeing her ladyship suffer. “Please do not suppose that I blame any of this on you. You and I have always been close. I’d like to think we will move past this sorrowful moment and in time find ourselves as we always were.”
Avery drew closer to Lady Sophia and Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around both of them. “We shall suffer through this together. We’re family.”
Chapter 27 ~ His Misdeeds
The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was now painfully great. She did not know how to think or how to feel. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. The woman she loved – the woman whom she had been taught to believe was her mother, indeed the best mother a daughter could wish for - was not her mother. The young man whom she looked up to, whom she adored, whom she had been taught to believe was her brother was not her brother. And the worst part of it all was the man whose remembrance she cherished and whose loss she mourned had been the means of ripping her world apart.
He robbed her of the chance to grow up as Elizabeth Bennet along with this wonderful sister. All that time she supposed she had been mourning the loss of her so-called sister, whom Elizabeth had no memory of at all, save what she had been told, she was rightfully, yet unknowingly, mourning the loss of her sister Jane. Elizabeth smoothed her black bombazine dress. I do not know that I shall ever forgive Grandfather – His Grace - for his misdeeds.
All the time she was mourning the loss of a father she grew to know and love as a result of the stories that were told about him as well as his likeness that was prominently displayed in Dunsmore House family gallery, she supposed she was mourning her real father, Mr. Thomas Bennet.
By Jane’s account, their father loved Elizabeth above all else. Musings she would rather not entertain crept into her mind: thoughts of abandonment and rejection. If my father loved me as much as Jane said, then why did he give up searching for me? How long had he searched before giving up?
Jane also confided that, to this day, my father’s favorite wish was that I would be returned to him. Elizabeth’s strong suspicion was that it was not within Jane’s nature to think meanly of anyone.
What if my father has relinquished all memories of me? Will he even recognize me when he sees me? Will he and the rest of the family embrace me as warmly as Jane and the Gardiners have, or will they view me as a stranger ... a ghost from the past?
Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth drifted over to the vanity and peered into the mirror. Seconds turned slowly into minutes. Who am I? She recalled Avery’s having mentioned Mr. Darcy’s role in solving the mystery of her disappearance and her possible connection to the Bennets of Longbourn.
How wretchedly I treated him. I went so far as to blame him for the ill fate that befell my grandfather. Elizabeth covered her face with both hands, trying to prevent another bout of tears from falling from her eyes. Her efforts were in vain. “He is not my grandfather!” she voiced aloud. She bolted from the vanity, rushed over to her bed, and buried her head in the pillows. “He was my abductor! He kidnapped me when I was but a child!” With that, she gave herself over to a good long cry.
Some hours later, Elizabeth awoke with a new resolve. She longed for a moment alone with Mr. Darcy to talk about what he had done. She knew him well enough to suspect he was berating himself over the entire sordid affair. He had done it all for her. Finally, the late duke’s last words held meaning.
You must not blame him. He cares a great deal for you.
While she had not decided how she truly felt, she knew that she could not harbor any ill will or animosity towards Mr. Darcy. She wanted to let him know this. What she was about to do would surely break every rule of propriety. I shall concern myself with that later. Elizabeth sealed the missive and asked her maid to see that it found its way into the master of Pemberley’s hands.
Darcy was surprised by Elizabeth’s request to meet him later that evening, long after the rest of the household had settled. That she had chosen the one spot on the grounds that he had long wished to take her filled him with a measure of hope.
It had concerned him deeply that Elizabeth did not come to dinner. Just before joining the other guests, Darcy had met with both Avery and Mr. Gardiner. His immediate concern was with Elizabeth—how she was faring; how she had borne the revelation. Mr. Gardiner, for his own part, spoke of his determination to do all in his power to support his niece without harsh feelings and allegations that might only serve to impede her coming to terms with the upheaval in her life. It was all Avery could wish for. It was all Darcy could do not to go to her to offer whatever comfort and reassurance he could. Had it not been for the letter, he would have.
The hour was late when he saw Elizabeth heading towards him. When they were nearly face-to-face, she extended her hands. “Thank you for meeting me.”
Darcy accepted Elizabeth’s proffered hands and offered a gentle squeeze.
Their eyes met, each of them searching the other’s for reassurances. “It seems I owe you an apology for the way I have treated you of late, sir,” she said, still gazing up at him.
“You were in pain—mourning the duke’s death when we last saw each other in town. I understand.”
Elizabeth was pleased to perceive in his eyes the same deep admiration and caring she had grown accustomed to seeing. “I suppose I owe you my gratitude as well.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“No—I am confused more than anything. I am trying to
understand all this.”
“You must know that I will do anything in my power to help you come to terms with what has unfolded.”
“I shall rely upon that, sir. Starting now, for you must tell me, Mr. Darcy, when did you first realize that I might have a connection to the Bennets?”
“I would have to say it was from the moment I first laid eyes on one of the younger Bennet daughters, a Miss Catherine Bennet—I believe her family calls her Kitty.”
“Mr. Darcy, you may as well call the Bennets what they are.”
“Pardon?”
“You refer to Kitty as a Bennet daughter. You refer to the Bennets as her family. Is Kitty not my sister? Are the Bennets not my family? Let us not speak about them as though they are utter strangers.”
“If that is your wish. However, you will allow that it will take some time for me to regard them differently.”
“Pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, are your feelings about the Bennets - about my family - as harsh as Miss Bingley’s?”
“Do you no longer consider that the Montlakes are your family?”
“How could I possibly feel that way? For as long as I can remember, they have been the most important people in my life. I suppose I shall consider myself blessed in a bizarre sort of way, for I have two families.” Elizabeth folded one arm over the other. “Mind you, sir, I am still waiting for a reply to my inquiry. I know you well enough to know you cannot bear the thought of associating with those whom you perceive as your lessors. Moreover, that pernicious Miss Bingley paints such a vile picture of my family. Other than Jane and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, you are the only person I trust to tell me what I ought to know.”
“It warms my heart to know that you trust me, especially since my persistent, dogged curiosity has been the means of effectively tearing your world, as you know it, apart.”
“If I did not know better, I would say you are avoiding the subject. I know you, sir. You mean to avoid answering my questions, but I can be just as determined as you can be.
