At Last: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Anne Morris

  • • •

  Darcy thought of a dozen reasons to give Elizabeth as to why she should have accepted his hand; he did not allow any of her arguments to carry weight as he tested the length of the stride of his legs, and walked to the castle. But once reaching its grounds on the north-east side of Scarborough, he set off again in the opposite direction, south-west along the beach-front, as if seeking the well to try those health-giving waters where it lay on the south side of the harbor.

  He had been assured of success, any other lady from his dinner party the evening before would have said yes, would have eagerly bent her head up for a kiss, would have desired him as a husband. He was flush with anger as he walked. The audacity of Miss Bennet to turn him down! He had wanted her for his wife. There was so much he had to offer her—a distinguished family name, his family connections and his estate—he was worth ten thousand a year. How could she not value such things? How could she not value him?

  He reached the bottom of the hill, but he had no real desire to take the waters, so he stopped and turned to head back up again confusing some of the other pedestrians along that terraced walkway. He had been considering returning home to Pemberley; March was almost upon them. They could settle at home until it was time for him to go to Kent. Georgiana would object, but he would tell her he had projects to do on the estate. They could pack up this afternoon, make a few short calls in the morning to say their goodbyes, and leave.

  • • •

  Mrs. Bennet was not overly concerned with Elizabeth's temporary retreat that day. She had been thrilled with their new dresses, which they should have in time for attending the Long Room dance on Friday, and all three of the officers from the previous night's dinner had said they would be sure to be in attendance. At fifteen, Lydia was perhaps young to attend, but it excited her to think of any daughter of hers having admirers. Two captains and a colonel! She wondered how much a colonel made. The commission could not be cheap.

  However, it was time to consider her house and her husband, and Mrs. Bennet had directed the Hills to begin preparing for their return to Longbourn. The other girls were due home in a week, and she missed them—they ought to be her focus, and were the most marriageable, far more than the two she had under her ministrations and with no results to speak of. Friday was the dance, it would be a nice little ending to their sojourn to Scarborough, then they could head for home. How much she would have to share with their neighbors, she was already looking forward to calling on her sister Philips and Lady Lucas first thing.

  • • •

  Georgiana was furious, but Fitzwilliam did not budge for once. One day's notice—he had only give her one day's notice—to call on all of her friends and acquaintance to say goodbye before they left. Lydia: she would need to ensure she called on Lydia first thing in the morning, but before that she would take Mrs. Younge out shopping for a farewell gift. She recalled her friend admiring a shawl she had purchased on one of her first days in Scarborough, and decided to purchase a matching one as a parting gift.

  Fitzwilliam was in a rather strange mood, all told, and overly occupied with the details of their return trip when he usually let the servants, his man, handle such things. Georgiana wondered briefly about what had brought on this change in his mood. Perhaps the dinner had not been to his liking, though she had had a glorious time of it, even if Richard had showed up and spoken about how she was to spend all of spring and summer at Pemberley and not to go to Ramsgate. She thought she would die of boredom if she had to stay at Pemberley for the next six months without so much as a break or a trip. She would need to think of some other place to suggest for her and Mrs. Younge to settle, though there were always the Pemberley stables to keep her happy.

  • • •

  Elizabeth wished to avoid any encounter with Mr. Darcy the next morning. She was convinced he would not call or allow his sister to call on Lydia, and that they would leave Scarborough, but she had a few doubts. She cajoled Miss Simnel into an outing to the Scarborough Castle that morning with promises of a first-rate luncheon afterward, and the three of them set off, leaving Lydia at home, who had no desire to join them. Mrs. Bennet stayed home as well, as she felt the walk up the hill to the castle grounds was beyond her abilities.

  Simon was thrilled with the visit, the inner bailey of the castle was an expansive area to run in, and there were still some working areas because it was still used as a garrisoned fortification. They had a decent luncheon at an inn called The Black Bull, then headed home with Simon dancing about between the two women still excited, despite their long excursion.

  Lydia was ecstatic to show Elizabeth her new shawl when they returned, saying it was a gift from Miss Darcy, a parting gift, who had called that morning. Elizabeth was quite surprised that Mr. Darcy had permitted the visit, and even more surprised that he too had called with his sister.

  "Really Elizabeth," said her mother, "you get it into your head to be away at the oddest moments. You missed your chance to say goodbye, for they have been called home, some estate issue. But Miss Darcy was ever so nice to bring Lydia a gift, and invited her to correspond with her! They have become such good friends." Mrs. Bennet looked at her, but Elizabeth had nothing to say in return. "I suppose it is for the best that we are going away as well. I am looking forward to the dance tomorrow evening—what with the officers coming too. Do you know if that Mr. Wolton-Fane is to attend?" Mrs. Bennet had quite the expectant look on her face.

  "That would depend on whether the Petersons are to attend, Mamma," said Elizabeth as she watched Lydia moving the shawl about her shoulders, displaying it in various positions, all the while beaming. "He never goes anywhere unless Mr. Peterson attends."

  "Mrs. Peterson is always trying to find gentleman for that Miss Church, perhaps you ought to ask her if she is attending and then you might know? Poor thing, she is not too clever, I do not suppose she will ever find a husband. My girls, you know, are clever—I have to say that!"

  But Elizabeth had no wish to call on Miss Church; she felt that to do so would be to encourage the acquaintance more than she wished. She might have to share that they would be leaving Scarborough soon, and she had no desire to correspond with the young lady. Elizabeth agreed with her mother that Miss Church was indeed, not clever.

  • • •

  The Long Room was a large building with a heavy stone foundations that took up a large section of the beach front road. The dance room upstairs, however, was large and open, and like many public assembly rooms, there were additional rooms for card playing, for coffee, and for simply sitting when the heat, noise, and conversation became too cumbersome.

  They had visited once before, when they had first come to Scarborough, before they had become so ensconced with Miss Darcy's society and the restrictions which that imposed, because Georgiana was not yet out, and that she could not dance. Now, after seven weeks in Scarborough, their acquaintance had expanded, and Lydia, in particular, was looking forward to their evening because she was in anticipation of dancing every dance.

  There were no familiar gentlemen when they first arrived, and Lydia and her mother expressed their displeasure at that fact. Mrs. King and Miss Church were there, however, and Miss Church came up to exclaim over Lydia's shawl—the expense of it had to be evident—but then she demanded congratulations about her own dress which was new, but did not allow the same sort of fawning over Lydia's dress or even to notice Elizabeth's attire at all. Elizabeth had submitted to her last fitting that morning, and was wearing the creation, a daring one in orange, at Lydia's urging. Its design had to proclaim it a thing of current fashion, and yet it elicited no remark from Miss Church.

  Phoebe Church was often of a negative disposition and remarked that there were no decent gentlemen, and said she did not know why she had even bothered to come—Mr. Darcy was not there. Elizabeth did her best to cheer her, but knew that she was one for whom it would do no good, so Elizabeth did not try very hard.

  The orchestra began to p
lay, and there was dancing. Captain Gage solicited Elizabeth's hand and another officer claimed her sister. Elizabeth lost herself in the enjoyment of the evening. She danced with another officer, and then Mr. Wolton-Fane was there and solicited her hand. Her pulse beat quicker at the sight of him; she felt even a little light headed, and their dance together was one of the best she had ever experienced. It was with reluctance that she parted from him when he brought her back to Mrs. Bennet. He said he would seek her out again, which Mrs. Bennet overheard, and which made her mother's eyes shine. She and her mother sought out the refreshment room then for some coffee and buns. While Mrs. Bennet enjoyed the repast she was eager to have Elizabeth return to the dance hall, and hurried her back.

  Elizabeth had other partners, though she did sit out one dance. Lydia stayed on the dance floor for every set, and was ecstatically happy with every gentleman who asked her, decrying that the last one was, for sure, her favorite, until the next one came up to bend over her hand and to lead her out onto the floor. Elizabeth noted that though Colonel Fitzwilliam had said he was to attend, was not present. Captain Gage and Captain Wylde were in attendance, though, as promised, and she danced with both.

  The evening was winding to a close when Mr. Wolton-Fane found her again and asked for a second dance which she readily acceded to, and their time on the floor was as enchanting as their first. He danced well, their conversation was always easy, and they never wanted for topics.

  Afterward, he walked her out onto the terrace that ran the length of the building. Large stone arches graced the terrace, supported by that heavy foundation, and gave a magnificent view of the sea. They walked along its length until they found an arch to themselves and spent many minutes enjoying the view though the air was quite cold, and Elizabeth did not have her wrap.

  "It is beautiful, the sea, with the moonlight shining on it. I imagine it would be magnificent when it is a full moon—to see it reflected down on the waters," she said breaking the silence at last. He agreed with her.

  "I am going away. Mr. Peterson has some important business he needs me to attend to in York, and then I am to go to London afterward," said Mr. Wolton-Fane. "I might be gone several months."

  "I have enjoyed your company and our little talks," said Elizabeth. She had not yet shared that they too were leaving Scarborough. Besides the Reverend Tiploft, there were not a lot of intelligent men that she had come across, and she had found a number of conversations here wanting; she supposed that to be a sign of being at a watering hole.

  "I am happy to hear that you might be missing me." His one hand still had a firm grip on her arm. The other hand came around to clasp her shoulder and pulled her to him to kiss her. It was an embrace that she permitted, and it was not even her first kiss, but Elizabeth wondered if he was so in love with her that he would propose to her on such short notice. Mr. Wolton-Fane soon corrected her on that point.

  "You know that I have the same aspirations as Mr. Peterson," he said, looking down at her in his arms, "and I need to marry well. I need a wife with a good dowry."

  "You would not consider anything less than twenty thousand pounds," she replied, and wondered where this conversation was headed.

  "I cannot help but tell you how delighted I have been with your wit, with your intelligent conversation, and I must tell you how beautiful you are," his eyes lingered on her own, then traced all over her face, "I am finding the prospect of leaving you difficult, but I wonder if you would consider coming away with me," he looked at her expectantly, "as my companion. I would care for you deeply."

  Elizabeth was stunned. It was not what she had expected to hear, though after only a few weeks' acquaintance—and those short discussions at the post office—she had not truly expected a marriage proposal. With only one thousand pounds to her name, she did not expect to attract many gentlemen to her. She considered that as she was of the advanced age of twenty-four, such an offer was one that young ladies might encounter, and there were some who might consider it. Mr. Wolton-Fane was certainly handsome, he had a place in society, would accomplish great things, and be a distinguished gentleman if he was to follow in Mr. Peterson's footsteps and enter politics. But to become a man's mistress was not something she had ever considered.

  "I do not know that I should thank you for such an offer," she said in as light-hearted a manner as she could, and in an attempt to distract herself from the present situation, "but I need to decline it." He still held her in his arms, and his expectant face gave way to disappointment. His shoulders moved slightly, and she wondered if he would kiss her again, as if in farewell, but he simply let go of her shoulder and they walked on.

  He made no argument as to why she should further consider his indecent proposal, and part of her thanked him for that, that he would not beg or give her further arguments or inducements as to why she should consider such a thing as running away with him, and they moved back into the ballroom, and he brought her back to her mother.

  • • •

  Elizabeth lay awake at least an hour after they returned home from the ball considering Mr. Wolton-Fane's proposal. She wondered if he cared for her, Elizabeth knew he was attracted to her and, perhaps, he had loved her a little. But he needed a wife with money, even if he did love her, so had considered an alternative arrangement. He did say he would have cared for her, and she believed he meant both his feelings for her, and her physical well-being. Elizabeth had truly enjoyed his company, but in no way had she anticipated what he had asked of her that evening when she met up with him each morning at the post office. She had been seeking enlightenment about politics, and a sort of companionship, but had learned that a lady needed to be careful about seeking the companionship of a man, even that of a gentleman.

  Had he thought through his offer to her to come away with him? How long would they have been together? Did a man truly think through the consequences of such an offer and consider how and whether it would end? What if there had been children or if he had married? It was flattering, she supposed, that he admired her intelligence; a man could still enter most parlors and pass off his 'companion' without too many consequences, and he had probably considered that such an intelligent companion would enhance his aspirations for entering politics, even if she had no dowry and could not bring him that illustrious marriage he needed. For a time, she would simply be a sparkling substitute, a beautiful hostess on his arm. She did not suppose that once they entered such an arrangement that he would ever consider marrying her at some future date. Elizabeth was far too practical to ever think or hope for that sort of outcome.

  Elizabeth had imagined for the past fortnight or two what sort of life it would be to marry a man involved in the political sphere, the need to travel to London, to travel locally around his parish, and in his county, for Mr. Wolton-Fane had joked that he would constantly be put into a position of having to make everyone like him. He certainly had the skills for it, his exceptional manners and charm would take him far. He was an exceptionally pleasant man for sure, and Elizabeth felt she would eventually forgive him for his proposal, considering all the pleasant moments they had shared. She had been seeking enlightenment, and it was, after all, a sort of enlightenment to know that a gentleman could make such a proposal, even to a gentleman's daughter.

  She had been waiting to return home to discuss Mr. Darcy's offer with Jane, but now, after having had Mr. Wolton-Fane make her an offer, a very different type of proposal, Elizabeth considered that she could not share such an offer with sweet and innocent Jane. It would shock; and she did not wish Jane to think any less of her than she might otherwise do so. So Elizabeth resolved to keep both of her proposals to herself, and to never share them with a soul.

  Sixteen

  —

  Why?

  Two days after Elizabeth's return to Longbourn, her sisters arrived from Christchurch, and their life in Hertfordshire returned to its normal patterns. Mr. Bennet said he had enjoyed his solitude immensely while they had all been away. Mrs. Benn
et had taken the Hills with her, but she had left him the cook, a detail he probably had not noted. But years of marriage meant Mrs. Bennet knew the other thing Mr. Bennet appreciated besides his books, was a well-timed meal, and she had simply hired a cook in Scarborough.

  Once they were settled at home, Elizabeth made a point of calling on her friend Charlotte Lucas. For once, it was difficult to obtain a private audience with her friend because Lady Lucas, Maria, and Susan all wished to hear the news about Scarborough, despite having heard about it but two days before. A trip is not discussed, if not discussed at length. They had not begun to exhaust the Bennet's trip to Scarborough and had yet to see Jane, Mary, and Catherine to hear about their own trip to Christchurch. There were many questions which were also directed at Elizabeth about her sisters' journey. It was with some difficulty that the two friends struggled to steal away to speak, but they eventually did, as there was some household duty that took Lady Lucas away which needed Maria and Susan's assistance, at last leaving Elizabeth alone with Charlotte. Elizabeth got right to the point.

  "So you have heard from your mother's brother, your uncle?"

  "Yes," said Charlotte with a soft voice. "I am still not quite sure what to make of it; he has been in trade in Kent, in Dartford. He married, of course, but never had children, and he has asked for me to come visit. I am not sure whether I should, because, Eliza, why would he contact me after all these years?" Her concern made her voice crack.

  Elizabeth was thoughtful for a moment, "perhaps, in his older years, he has become lonely, and has decided to contact his only remaining family. There was no animosity between your mother and her brother that you know of?"

  "Oh no!" said Charlotte, "I just find it so odd that he would be seeking me out now and asking me to come visit him. While I knew of his existence, and he knew of mine, my father did not often wish to speak of his first wife, and Lady Lucas has always truly been my mother; I have to admit I am hesitant about this."