At Last: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Anne Morris

"You did a fine job girlie," said their dipper.

  "I definitely want the steps," said Georgiana placing a hand on Elizabeth's arm.

  "We will wait for the steps," said Elizabeth projecting her voice. She thought she caught some of Georgiana's panic and was, herself, unsure of the water now, when she had earlier scoffed at Miss Simnel's dislike for it. The dipper hauled her charge with her to the corner of the bathing machine, and told Lydia to cling to one of the wheels. The steps were hanging on the side of the machine, and they were taken down and attached to the back of the device, allowing Elizabeth and Georgiana to enter the water at a more sedate pace. That slower pace meant she could feel the chills as they moved up her legs through her spine, and set her teeth chattering, and she wondered that people would choose to do this on a regular basis.

  "Good girls!" cried Mrs. Jackmann, and she held out her two large and strong hands, one for each, and pulled Elizabeth and Georgiana off of the last step and into the water. Both Elizabeth and Georgiana were shivering with the cold, their teeth rattling, and they looked at Lydia who still clung to the wheel, but had begun to bounce and was smiling at them.

  "This is fantastic!" cried Lydia, "I am so pleased we have come."

  "I am not sure I am so happy," said Georgiana, who took another step, seemed to stumble, and wrapped her arms around Mrs. Jackmann's neck who embraced her, letting go of Elizabeth's hand. Elizabeth swayed where she stood, but then found a certain footing in the buoyancy of the water, putting her arms out wide and moving them gently. The movement also helped to stave off the feeling of being so chilled as well.

  "Now the best thing for your health is to immerse yourself at least three times under the water," said Mrs. Jackmann. "I can dunk you, or you can do it yourself if you feel you can make the attempt."

  "I will try," said Lydia, who still had her hands firmly on the wheel of the bathing machine. She appeared to be crouching down as she held the wheel and slowly immersed herself in the water until it came up to her shoulders. She stopped, took a breath, then disappeared quickly under the water, and then shot right back up again laughing this time instead of sputtering.

  Elizabeth, who was about chest-deep in the water followed Lydia's example, kneeling in the water until her shoulders felt the bite of the cold, then dunked down underneath and pushed herself back up, throwing her arms out away from her body to steady herself. A hand clasped hers to steady it, Mrs. Jackmann, however, still had a steady arm around Georgiana. Praise was thrown both of their ways by their dipper, who then cheerfully took her last charge in her strong arms and pushed her under, then pulled her back up with a wide grin on her face, holding her up above the water even as Georgiana coughed, and used her hands to wipe the excess water from her face, all the time complaining of the cold.

  They all agreed about the coldness of the water though as they moved, its bite lessened. Each lady achieved her minimally required three dips, and then the ever-cheerful Mrs. Jackmann saw them safely back into the device, and told them they would have extra time to divest themselves of their wet flannel gowns.

  They did not attempt to undress while the device was rolling, but waited until it had stopped moving before undoing the few buttons at the neck and shoulder of their wet gowns, and stripping them off to shivers. They wrapped themselves in the small towels that had been left for them. Lydia's street dress had fallen off of the shelf and landed on the floor of the machine with the shaking of it as they were hauled back up to the beach, but there was nothing to be done but help her to don her chemise and then her partially damp dress; luckily her cloak hid the offense of a wet dress worn over a stay-less figure.

  • • •

  Georgiana had never experienced such a morning in her life. Since coming to Scarborough, actually even before she had come, she had envisioned sea bathing. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had described its delights and extolled its health benefits as the one of the main delights Scarborough had to offer. whenever they spoke of their little part of the country. Somehow, Georgiana had imagined sea bathing as a sort of giant bath, but baths were small and warm, bathtubs were of a certain size and shape, and all of the elements to them were entirely predictable.

  Sea bathing was cold, with a fierceness that still chilled her bones despite a long bath at home, and having spent the rest of her day wrapped in blankets on a chaise, sipping tea. And the sea was so wild, it had come up to her chest, but the little waves had lapped at her, rising and falling, and making the whole venture so unpredictable that she had clasped onto Mrs. Jackmann and been happy never to have her let go.

  The uncouth woman's sense of humor and ribbing jolliness had irked Georgiana as well, with her praise for both Lydia and Elizabeth in being able to dunk their heads under the water themselves. Georgiana had never been brave enough to attempt it herself, and had not so much submitted to Mrs. Jackmann's ministrations, as been simply pushed under, and then been pulled back up to find that jolly face beaming at her, while she wiped the salty water from her face, snorting it out of her nostrils, and realizing how very unladylike 'dipping' truly was.

  Lydia had been able to let go of her wheel and walked to Elizabeth with sweeping arm movements, claiming she was swimming, and the two of them had dutifully dunked themselves twice more, while waiting then for Mrs. Jackmann to accomplish Georgiana's final dunks.

  The most surprising part of the morning had been in undressing down to her skin in front of her new friends. Georgiana had never felt so shy in her life as she watched Elizabeth and Lydia disrobe with a certain abandon, and certainly a familiarity about having done such a thing many times before. Georgiana had never done that with any other friend or acquaintance. Her maid, certainly, helped her to bathe and to dress, but she had never done such a thing with someone with whom she shared a social standing, not someone whose form, she discovered, she might envy. Even at school, the states of undress seemed limited to being seen in your under-pinnings, not being seen entirely without clothes.

  Georgiana had looked at her new friends' forms with envy, and did not know she ever subscribed to such an emotion. Lydia, who was taller than both her and Elizabeth, had the rounder form with fat buttocks and a slightly think waist, but her breasts were well formed, and larger than Georgiana's. Georgiana's form was what some, like her aunts, called 'willowy' and others at school—the ones who had teased her—merely said 'thin' or 'lanky.' Georgiana wondered if she would ever stop looking like a child, and would always have a child's form—Cousin Anne still did, with her petite frame, small breasts and no hint of a waist or hips. The only womanly aspect Georgiana felt she had, was her height.

  It was, however, Elizabeth's form that had truly inspired envy and jealousy. Elizabeth was of almost the exact same height as Georgiana, but had not, apparently, the same inclination for sweets as Lydia. Her body too might once have been willowy, but was most definitely a woman's body, with a shapely waist that curved over smooth wide hips. Her breasts were larger than Lydia's, though Lydia was plumper, and Georgiana was both embarrassed to stare at them, and yet could not help but envy their curves.

  She sat on her chaise lounge, under her blankets with her tea, and wondered at this new sensibility.

  Thirteen

  —

  A Dilemma & a Drive

  "Caroline, I have had another letter from Darcy," said her brother to her as they sat at the table lingering over breakfast, "it seems they are settled in Scarborough, and are to remain there though February at the very least."

  "I am glad that Darcy and Georgiana have found enough to entertain themselves. Without some sort of society, I am not sure if a two-month visit is warranted," replied Miss Bingley, who was looking over her correspondence.

  "You are still sure you do not wish to go? It seems Darcy and Miss Darcy have made the acquaintance of Leticia; some sort of accidental meeting on the Spa Terrace one day. He inquired after your health and welfare, and I am getting bored of London after so many months here."

  "How can you be bored of
London, Charles?" cried Caroline Bingley, looking up from her stack of letters. "I fear if you are bored of London you have lost your motivation in life. Louisa and I have been introducing you to lady after lady, and dragging you to soiree after soiree; how can you not be entertained?" She was surprised; he could hear that in her voice.

  "Perhaps such a life is not for me," he said. "We did not know such constant society back in Scarborough. There were slower times to the year."

  "There were plenty of dances at the Long Room, and plenty of parties to attend if we wished to have society," she argued.

  "Yes, but somehow it seemed different. We did not have to be out every night." He smoothed the letter on the table next to him. "You are certain you do not wish to go home for a spell, especially with Darcy and Georgiana there?" He paused, looked down at the buttons on his waistcoat, then up again to catch her eye. "I thought that you admired him once, Caroline. He has always been very gracious to you."

  "Darcy has always been ever the gentleman, Charles," she smiled weakly, "and I think that we do not suit each other. And I do not wish to go to Scarborough," she looked at him intently, and then her eyes trailed past him as they both found it an awkward topic.

  • • •

  It was a day of excitement though it might depend on one's perspective as to the degree of that excitement.

  A note had been delivered in the morning inviting them to a dinner at the Darcy's hotel. Mrs. Bennet was so thrilled that she decided to join Elizabeth for her morning walk, and to contemplate whether they needed to order new dresses for the occasion. Elizabeth was not sure if she wished to divulge to her mother the nature of her, heretofore, clandestine morning meetings with Mr. Wolton-Fane, so had skipped her daily trip to the post office. The pair of them did, however, run into the host for that much-talked-about dinner as they strolled the wind-whipped terrace of Scarborough.

  Mr. Darcy looked a little taken aback that her mother had her arm, and Elizabeth realized then that she had two daily meetings as she just as often met with Mr. Darcy, after her post office encounters with Mr. Wolton-Fane. She had not considered that fact until her mother was exclaiming over the chance meeting with Mr. Darcy.

  "We are so excited to have received your invitation to dinner, Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth and I were out of bed and hurried through our breakfast so we could consider purchasing new gowns," explained Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth doubted that Mr. Darcy cared a whit about what they wore to his dinner but held her tongue. He made some general and appropriate response.

  "Is it to be a large party, or just our little intimate circle of friends?" pressed Mrs. Bennet, who was always eager to meet new acquaintance if she could.

  "It will be a larger party; we have some other friends here that we wish to include so long as we are going to the bother of having a dinner," he replied. He sounded fatigued by the idea of having to do such a thing as host a party, and Elizabeth wondered at this man who put himself in situations that he despised.

  "We are so looking forward to it!" sang Mrs. Bennet, who had decided that they must have new gowns; Elizabeth could see the look in her eye. "I feel we must get back home though, Mr. Darcy, as we have been walking quite a long time this morning." This was a half-truth, but it had been, perhaps, a long walk for Mrs. Bennet.

  Lydia was not at home, but according to one of the servants, she had set out almost as soon as Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet had left. Miss Simnel, when applied to, did not know where she had gone, and everyone assumed she was out with Miss Darcy. Mrs. Bennet could not wait for her errant daughter to return home, so she pressed Elizabeth into going out again to the dressmakers. Elizabeth argued that they did not have enough time as the dinner was on Tuesday, and finally persuaded her mother against the purchase. Mrs. Bennet argued that new dresses would work for the dance at the Long Room, which they planned to attend in over a week—plenty of time for new dresses to be made. They headed back out to the center of town.

  "How fortuitous that we ran into Mr. Darcy this morning," began her mother, "I am beginning to think that our neighbors back home had the wrong idea about him; his sister is such a sweet girl that he cannot be as bad as that man said he was. He does have a grim face most of the time, though he is handsome," she said, "although, he does not have the most inviting manners. Still, Miss Darcy is such a delight."

  Elizabeth felt she needed to enlighten her mother about her encounters with him. "Actually Mamma, I seem to run into him most mornings when I am out walking," she confessed. Elizabeth did not wish to mention her more determined forays to the post office to see Mr. Wolton-Fane. "Though he still does not speak much, even after further acquaintance."

  "Lizzy!" Her mother turned to look at her. "You are a sly creature; who knew you were sneaking off each morning to meet Mr. Darcy, so handsome and so rich!" Elizabeth could see her mother considering the wedding banns, and had to speak up.

  "Mamma, we only run into each other and talk a little, that is all. Our family is neither grand enough, or rich enough for him. I am sure he is simply bored, and is seeking some exercise, like I am. He shows no sign of admiration for me. Please do not consider him as a suitor."

  "He is such a reserved man you never know what is going on in his mind, Lizzy. He could be in love with you. You say he meets you most mornings to walk with you?" Her mother was like a terrier, not to be shaken from her task.

  "Mamma, he is simply bored. We barely talk, and if we do it is often about Miss Darcy and Lydia. I think," it came to her as she explained it to her mother, "that he is seeking information about his sister to ensure that her behavior is correct."

  "Ah well," replied her mother, whose shoulders sagged a little, as the logic of Elizabeth's statement took hold, "perhaps you are correct. He does seem to be excessively concerned about his sister."

  • • •

  Lydia returned just before their noonday meal with mischievous eyes and a laughing smile, and said she and Miss Darcy had spent the entire morning walking about the town.

  "You need to take a maid with you if Miss Simnel does not go with you," admonished Elizabeth when she heard that even Mrs. Younge had not been in attendance with them that morning; she knew that Mr. Darcy had not escorted the two girls since he had been with her and her mother.

  "Oh Lizzy! You are too wearing. There are only the shops and the library and the terrace and the Spa. We have not even been to the Castle yet, I do not know how to get there, and cannot go see the barracks—that is a sight only Simon will be privileged to see. What else shall we do, go to the church?" cried Lydia, with a mixture of disdain, and yet delight, for her morning adventure.

  "The church is an appropriate destination," said Miss Simnel, "you might go wander among the headstones at St. Mary's."

  "Headstones!" cried Lydia, "when there is shopping to be had? Or the second volume of Man of Feeling at the lending library to inquire about!"

  "Just be sure to take a chaperone," said Elizabeth again.

  "How is it that you do not need one?" asked Lydia suddenly, "how is it that you are permitted such freedoms, but I am admonished when I was in Georgiana's company this morning, and you walk alone?" She placed both her hands on the edge of the table to lean over with a serious look.

  "I believe I have established my respectability in society to be able to enjoy a short morning walk," said Elizabeth.

  "Besides, she meets Mr. Darcy every morning on her walks!" added Mrs. Bennet. "So she is not going out unescorted."

  "Lizzy!" exclaimed Lydia, "you are being sly. I shall have to tell Georgiana about that!"

  "You need not bother, Lydia. We simply have met each other a few mornings while we enjoy our morning exercise, that is all. Do not forget that you need to have Miss Simnel, or Mamma, or a maid with you when you go out," admonished her sister one last time.

  • • •

  He had not intended to seek her out every morning. He thought he was doing well with keeping his feelings for Elizabeth Bennet low, the flame in that lantern barely
visible, but their meeting the past Monday had sparked that flame to flare and to brighten. He found the image of her face and her smile, her eyes, and the sound of her laughter—her voice—penetrating his consciousness at uninvited times.

  Their discussions had begun on quite general topics, but quickly moved on to far more interesting, more intelligent ones than he had ever had with a lady. He had encountered her sharp wit when she had spent those days at Netherfield. Now he saw that below that wit, lay intelligence, and he realized that in order to be witty one must be sharp of mind. The Miss Churches of the world would never be droll.

  He was without guidance here, there was no Miss Bingley to give him advice or to distract him, and to display for him what he had once held up as the proper model for Pemberley of a future mistress with better connections, better family and a better dowry.

  Bingley had written again, he and his sister were not to come to Scarborough. Part of Darcy had wondered if they might not follow him. But Bingley had written: "Caroline has every desire to remain in London. She is preparing for the Season in a manner, the like of which I have never seen before. I had thought she might never marry or, in all honesty, Darcy, that you two would marry, but it appears I was wrong about Caroline's feelings. Both about her admiration for you, and of her intentions to remain single. Forgive me if I speak plainly, but I feel the need to do so as your friend, lest you be hurt by any announcement that might come your way in a few months' time. You have ever been an honest and true friend to me, and I simply mean to put you on your guard; I hope I am not offending or wounding you in any way."

  Darcy had appreciated the young pup's candor, and as he read it, he realized some small part of him had still considered Caroline Bingley, but that flame was then permanently extinguished with Bingley's straight-forward note that she did not care for him and was actively seeking a partner in life elsewhere. He had not ever been in love with her, but often thought they were compatible.

  Darcy considered that he had not been entirely honest with Bingley. Initially, the plans were to leave Netherfield and go to London for a week or two while Bingley sorted through the mixture of feelings that stirred within him. Darcy had been correct that his friend had not seriously considered marriage, that twenty-three was far younger than he had ever imagined settling down. But those feelings in that breast were not ones to be denied, and grew stronger, the longer he was away from Hertfordshire and that leased house. His sisters did not think much of Charles Bingley's choice of Jane Bennet for a wife, and shared as much with Darcy. The almost daily introduction of 'suitable young ladies' did nothing to turn Bingley's resolve in deciding that he could marry at such a young age—he was past his majority and with sufficient income—and such a bride was everything he wished for.