by J Dawn King
“Look, children!” Elizabeth pointed to the evidence of a community in the distance. She stood at the bow of the boat with both sets of twins. Jane and the children’s mother were seeing to the last minute packing of the items they had used in their quarters, while the father conversed with the captain.
The children jostled to be in front of the other for an unobstructed view. Their movements accidentally shoved Elizabeth to the side. She did not see the coiled rope or the hook which would be used to tie the boat to the dock. She landed in a puddle of water on the tar covered surface after losing her bonnet and some of her hair to the hook. Pins popped from her coiffure and heavy ringlets dropped over her eyes as she struggled to right herself before anyone could witness her graceless fall.
Too late! The pier was lined with men of all ages pointing in her direction. Somewhere in the small crowd was Mr. Bingley and her own husband-to-be. Surely they would be disappointed with the sight of her. Brushing the hair from her face, she was resigned to not making the dignified entrance she had planned.
Knowing the only dress not packed in the stowed trunks below deck was the salt-air coated one she had worn from San Francisco, Elizabeth’s heart sank to her feet. Rather than arriving to Oregon City to meet Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy in her finest, she would look worse than a ragamuffin from the streets. She wanted to sob, but the children looking at her with guilty terror on their faces needed her reassurance far more than her anger.
One of the boy twins was the first to act. He pulled from his pants pocket a shiny pebble, a penny, a piece of lint, and a well-used handkerchief. His offering the unsavory cloth with the air of a gentleman made her smile.
“Miss Wizzy, you can use my hankie if you want to.” Timothy Pedersen was unable to say his l’s and r’s. “I might have had to use it a wittle, but thew’s a wittle bit that’s cwean on one of the edges.”
Elizabeth endeavored not to smile. The little boy’s heart was in the right place.
“I am a mess.” She tried shaking the dirty droplets from her skirt.
“You aw a mess.” Four little voices proclaimed at the same time.
By the time Jane and the other adults approached, Elizabeth was laughing at her own vain ridiculousness.
Darcy, at almost four inches taller than Bingley, saw her first. He almost lost his ability to breathe in and out. Jane Bennet was as glorious a woman as he had ever seen. Beauty accompanied by an intelligent mind and kind heart made her unparalleled—far above all the young ladies of his acquaintance.
When his friend pushed ahead of him, he mourned the loss of such a woman. Irritated at his own lack of self-regulation, he sought to be tough with himself. Charles Bingley had first claim, so he would step back and accept that—although he would most likely not find her equal—he would have to settle for her sister.
Crewmen assisted a young family down the gangplank. Bingley rushed to offer his hand to his beloved Jane. To Darcy’s eyes, she fairly floated down the walkway. Tall and slim, her grace and serenity made him feel his loss even more. He could not keep the frown from his face. The crewman turned to help another young woman from the ship, Darcy was horrified to see the other Miss Bennet. She looked like she had been in a waterfront brawl and had come out the loser.
The younger Bennet hung back during introductions and kept her head bent. Darcy forgot her as soon as Miss Bennet said her name.
“Welcome to Oregon City!” Bingley offered his arm to Miss Bennet after greeting the whole family of fellow travelers. Darcy watched his friend and thought he had never seen him so tall. Pride at having such a woman on his arm was evident in the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. Darcy wished it was his arm she held. Resolved that he would think on it no more, he walked slowly behind them, his shoulders slumped and his eyes to the ground, completely forgetting the presence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Several hours later, the two men waited for the ladies to return downstairs for the evening meal. As each minute had passed, he had to listen to Bingley praise the woman of his dreams. For the first time, Darcy wanted to hit him squarely in the mouth. Clenching his fists, he decided to put an end to his friend’s speech.
“You are, indeed, fortunate in your choice of wife, Charles.”
“I say, Darcy. The younger Bennet sister, Miss Elizabeth, is uncommonly pretty as well.”
“How could you tell? She was covered in mud and filth like a hellion let loose in a mud bath.”
“Now, be fair.” Bingley tapped his friend on the shoulder. “I am sure she is as pretty as her sister when she is cleaned up.”
“Pretty?” Darcy was appalled. “She may be tolerable when bathed, but she’s certainly not beautiful enough to tempt me.”
How dare Bingley try to pass off an inferior woman to him. His heart belonged to the writer of those remarkable letters, not some misfit who probably did not even know one book from another.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. Standing in the doorway next to her was Jane Bennet, with her chin to her chest and an uncomfortable flush of red covering her cheeks. From the lift of Elizabeth’s head and the fire shooting from her eyes, Darcy knew he had been overheard.
Darcy felt a moment’s regret at his rudeness, but he soothed his inner guilt with the knowledge that she would gain much more from their marriage than he would. Few landowners had a home as grand or a property as productive as his. On the other hand, he would be wed to a misfit who could not present herself appropriately in public. She would be an embarrassment to the Darcy name.
He wanted to bellow aloud at the unfairness. If he could not have Jane Bennet, he wanted no Bennet at all.
In her lifetime, Elizabeth could not remember despising another human being as much as she did Mr. Bingley’s arrogant friend—her future husband. She refused to look anywhere but at him directly. While he had the right to his own opinion, he was wrong to express it so publicly. For a certainty, she had wished to appear to the present company—Mr. Darcy excluded—in a more dignified manner, but it could not be helped.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth.” Bingley cleared his throat while a red hue flooded his face in, what Elizabeth assumed was, embarrassment at his friend’s words.
Elizabeth turned to observe the fair-haired gentleman. He was everything he had claimed to be—friendly and approachable. She was extraordinarily happy for her sister. No single person on earth deserved the level of happiness that Jane did. Elizabeth moved from her sister’s side to stand next to Mr. Darcy. She would take no chances that Bingley’s companion might unleash his bitter ire on her sweet sibling. The thought of being wife to this lout made her stomach churn. How could two such opposite personalities be the best of friends. Life was not fair!
Jane was overcome with shyness, so Elizabeth responded to the gentlemen. “Mr. Bingley, I thank you for your kind welcome upon our arrival. You have been all that is gracious. We appreciate your reserving such fine rooms for us.” Elizabeth looked closer at the only other man in the room. “Mr. Darcy, I will not pretend we did not hear your words when we came into the room. My family is unused to blatant unkindness and ill manners.”
“I am sure that is so.” Bowing towards her, he offered, “I beg your pardon.”
He could not move his eyes away from Jane. Yet Darcy knew, then, that by his own abominable words, any chance he might have had to win her was gone.
“Humph!” Came the disbelieving response from Elizabeth.
Darcy did not blame her. Even to his own ears his apology sounded insincere. He glanced at the younger Bennet sister to find she had bathed and changed into a clean dress. At least she was presentable and would not embarrass him by being seen in public with her.
“Well, now that that is settled…” Bingley smiled, and offered his arm to Jane. Darcy looked at Elizabeth for a long time, then finally extended his elbow. Uncomfortably, Darcy walked with her into the dining room. He prided himself on being an honorable man. In spite of the fact that he knew he should not have made such a c
omment, it was done and he could not wish it unsaid. His apology was sufficient.
Once they were seated and the food ordered, Bingley bent his head towards Jane and whispered, “I am delighted to finally meet you. Since your uncle first told me of you almost a year ago, I have thought of little else but being in your presence. Now that the time is here, I can only believe that each second was worth the wait.”
The muted noise of the rest of the diners did not block out the soft sounds. When had Charles become so verbose? For the hundredth time, Darcy wished he had told his friend ‘no’ when he asked him to write and then read the letters that had traveled back and forth between Baltimore and Oregon. Having no knowledge of Jane Bennet’s character would have made his circumstances more palatable. And it would have meant he would not be marrying her sister in the morning. Blast!
Boldly, Jane replied. “Though I have only known of you for the past five months, I have done the same. Your letters…they kept my hope of being introduced to a fine man alive. I will keep them and cherish them forever.”
Bingley blushed a brilliant red.
Darcy felt his heart break in two. He had written the letters!
He was so intent on his own roiling emotions, he paid no attention to Elizabeth.
Darcy’s instinct was to retreat—to return to his home to lick his wounds in private. But he didn’t run from anything. He would never be able to convince Bingley to accept Elizabeth so he could marry Jane. Despite his intense disappointment, he would do as he had promised. The die had been cast. They would be tied permanently to each other by morning. He would return to Pemberley hopelessly married to the wrong woman.
By the time the food arrived, Elizabeth had gained a measure of control over her own innermost feelings. She abhorred Mr. Darcy and could feel no empathy for him that he failed to capture Jane’s attention. What a travesty to have to marry a man who was in love with her sister! She could see it in his eyes. He was entirely besotted.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, could not fail to appreciate the goodness of his friend, the man giving Jane his full attention. How could she do anything other than rejoice in her sister’s good fortune? She endeavored to find out more about Mr. Bingley, not for her benefit, but for Jane’s.
“Mr. Bingley, the land along the river was lovely with its lush forests. Did we, by chance, pass your favorite overlook of the water in our travels?” Elizabeth longed to hear the beauty of his speech to soothe her battered heart.
“Oh, no, Miss Elizabeth. I rarely look at the water or the trees. They are a common sight; something we see every day. You will get used to them too.”
His reply surprised Elizabeth, though it seemed to have no impact on Jane, who was looking at him adoringly. Elizabeth became aware her sister could care less what he had to say.
“Mr. Bingley, you shared in your letters your love of the land and the nature surrounding us.” Elizabeth’s curiosity had been piqued with his reply. “Then, if not the trees and water, what does hold your attention and appreciation?”
Bingley reluctantly took his eyes from Jane as he turned to answer Elizabeth.
“Well, to be honest, I am not sure. I guess I like it all.” He shrugged his shoulders and moved his eyes back to where they longed to be.
Elizabeth tilted her head and narrowed her eyes almost to a squint. Where was his loquaciousness? Where was his depth? Suddenly, she wanted to chuckle to herself. Of course, he was befuddled by the beauty in front him so he was unable to speak in the same manner of his writing. She wanted to laugh at her own foolishness.
Turning, her eyes accidentally met Mr. Darcy’s. Instantly her anger flamed to an intensity she had never felt before.
“Mr. Darcy, do you have a sister or a close female relative you are particularly fond of?” Her voice had a snap to it that even she could hear.
“I beg your pardon?” He glared at her, insulted she had addressed him directly.
“Twice now you have begged my pardon, and we have only just met. How odd.” Again, she refused to look away from the piercing intensity of his blue eyes. “My question is valid, sir. Do you have a beloved female family member you cherish?”
He hesitated before answering, wondering what this wild woman was about.
“My sister is much beloved by me.”
“I am pleased to hear this, sir.” She smiled at him and lowered her voice. “Do you believe your sister’s value is solely based upon her appearance?”
Darcy saw the trap and knew it was his own fault for being in a position where his integrity was endangered.
“I do not.” The way he saw it, he might as well willingly step into the trap before she pushed him into the snare.
Only, she did not. With a little smile, she turned away from him and addressed Bingley, unsettling him far more than had she attacked. What was this woman about?
She appeared to give him no more thought for the rest of the meal. Instead, she turned her attention back to his friend.
“Mr. Bingley, from our current location, do you continue to travel via boat until you reach your home?”
Darcy could tell that Elizabeth was ready to depart the current company—his. Her eager questions whenever she spoke to Bingley, indicated her heart was as attached to his friend as his was to Jane’s. Until that moment, it had not occurred to him that the woman he married would be in love with his best friend. However, Bingley had clearly made his choice, and it was not Elizabeth.
“No, Miss Elizabeth. From here we will transport your sister’s belongings by wagon. If we get an early start and the weather continues to hold, we should arrive at the edge of my property before noon.”
“I am extraordinarily pleased you will do so.” Her smile was genuine, though restrained. “Jane will be able to turn the house into a home as well as explore the land she will grow to love.”
From the fact that Mr. Darcy had not been able to take his eyes away from her sister, Elizabeth assumed the man had fallen in love at first sight. His disappointment with having another so thoroughly claim his lady’s attention, had to be challenging to a man who gave the impression of being used to having his own way.
Their uncle Gardiner had spent far more time with Mr. Darcy than the younger man when he was last in Oregon. He had been impressed with the efficiency of his operations, his honest approach to business, and his kind generosity in readily offering him hospitality. Once the decision had been made for her to accept the arrangement to become his bride, her uncle had shared with her as much as he knew of the man. When compared to the reality sitting next to her, she wondered at her uncle’s opinion.
She also had to wonder how Mr. Darcy felt about losing the upper hand to Bingley. It had to frustrate Darcy to no end to have been completely disregarded by Jane and out-maneuvered by his friend.
Before the empty plates were cleared from the table, to make amends and reestablish Miss Bennet’s—Miss Jane Bennet’s—good opinion, Darcy sought to make peace. This meant conversing with her sister. “Miss Elizabeth, you appear to have great interest in the outdoors. Is there some aspect you particularly look forward to seeing while you are here?”
Elizabeth looked at him closely as if she could detect whether or not his question was sincere. When she shrugged her slim shoulders, he rejoiced he had been successful at needling her.
“I want to see it all, sir.”
Her direct stare unnerved him, and he scrambled for something to say to regain the upper hand.
“So you hope to spend your time in exploration? How very unusual for a lady.” With her older sister lost to him, he looked at her closely for the first time. She was a petite woman. Her dark hair was pulled back into a serviceable knot, her skin was clear, and her lips were full. What finally drew his attention were her eyes. They were an indeterminable shade of brown with gold flecks that sparkled in the lamp light. Her dark eyelashes were so thick and heavy that he wondered how she was able to keep them up.
“To sit in the shade on a fine day an
d look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment, I find.”
“You are a reader of Jane Austen, then?” He wanted to chuckle at her surprise. “My sister loaned me her copy of Mansfield Park and encouraged me to read it.” He kept his tone light so she would not believe him to be condescending. It was past time for him to quit looking at Bingley’s fiancée and pay attention to his own.
“Then tell me, what is your opinion of Fanny Price? Would you describe her as an accomplished woman?” The corner of her mouth lifted, and her eyes twinkled in mischief.
He did not think he had ever seen such life in a woman’s eyes before. Not that he had much opportunity to study a woman’s face that closely. How could they be piercing and full of humor at the same time? The angle of her chin gave him the first clue of her confidence in the subject. He comprehended the need to choose his words carefully.
“I believe all women have their accomplishments.” Darcy suspected she would not be satisfied with his neutral answer.
“I am astonished you think so, sir.” He heard her disdain, and suddenly he felt like squirming on the hard chair.
He had been confident in his own character; that he was the man his father had raised him to be. Yet, a few minutes in this woman’s company had proved to him that his prideful attitude and self-esteem earned her ire. He vowed to be a better man or he feared to meet the wrong end of her cast-iron skillet during his sleep.
The dessert arrived, and the four of them gave attention to the warm apple pie. Darcy observed the differences between the siblings. Miss Bennet was tall; Miss Elizabeth was short. Miss Bennet had clear blue eyes, while her sister’s eyes were dark. Miss Bennet exuded elegance and poise, when Miss Elizabeth…well, she had looked like a vagrant at the dock. Darcy waited until she bent her head to her plate and examined her current state. Her dress was a soft yellow and white muslin which highlighted the warmth of the honey tone to her skin. Miss Bennet was extraordinarily wise, while Miss Elizabeth…had been able to hold her own against him.
