White Lies and Other Half Truths

by Barbara Tiller Cole

  She was desperate, clingy and horridly rude to anyone deemed no benefit to her small world. She was quickly approaching spinsterhood. For the life of him Darcy had no idea why Miss Bingley had, somehow or other, believed that she would eventually be Mistress of Pemberley. Charles had been telling her for years that it was futile. Darcy had repeatedly hinted that he was not interested, but she would not relent. The true fact was that Caroline Bingley was the last woman in the world that he could ever have been prevailed upon to marry. She was almost as ridiculous to him as Mr. Collins was to Elizabeth.

  Ah, maybe we could speak about the hilarity of Miss Bingley’s ridiculous attempts to catch my notice. Elizabeth would like that, would she not? I could tell her of the time she decided to impress me with her fashion sense by wearing the most horrid orange ball gown to the Stanhope’s ball last season.

  Darcy had returned to his room by now and was sitting at the small desk flipping through some correspondence. The gown made her look like a pumpkin. The headpiece she wore included a dead parrot, mostly orange in colour with plumes or such coming out in all directions from the dead bird. Darcy separated out personal correspondence he desired to read later after completing some business matters.

  Did she actually think that such a foolish sight would impress me? Her shoes were orange, her gloves were orange, and she was even wearing an orange fur, so orange that it could not have actually come from a real animal. Richard had been there that evening and had dubbed her ‘Lady Parrott of the Island of Orange-a-tangs'. Hilarious! Yes, I will tell Elizabeth that story sometime soon.

  Darcy worked the majority of the day on his correspondence. He and Elizabeth had written letters to tell of their pending nuptials prior to leaving for London. Having caught up on business, he opened a letter from his cousin, Richard. Darcy had written of his engagement, but also to relate the presence of one George Wickham in the neighbourhood and request help:

  *~*~*~*~*

  30 November 1811, Matlock House

  Dear Darcy:

  You dog! You are getting married! It is hard to believe. I take it that you met your beloved in the wilds of Hertfordshire while there with Charles.

  We had heard in an express from Lady Catherine that a hussy with nothing to commend her other than her arts and allurements, with little or no wealth or connections, had trapped you. I have to tell you when the old man read that, he laughed so hard I did not think he would be able to stop. I have never seen him like that, Darcy.

  He kept saying things like, That old dog. He and George won. Oh, this is precious. I cannot wait to see Tom.

  Tom who, Darcy? Do you know of what he speaks? I know that your father had a friend named Tom, and that the two of them and my father knew each other at Eton and at Cambridge. I also know that my father continues to write to a Tom on a regular basis, but I do not think they have seen each other in years and do not really remember who he is. Do you? Is there some connection between Tom and your Elizabeth?

  Father has been no help at all, he keeps saying it is not his story to tell, and then he starts laughing again.

  We are all coming to the wedding, by the way. Dad insists and he has written to Aunt Catherine, telling her he expects her to either come to the wedding or be silent in regards to her objections. He is still the trustee of Rosings, you know. He told her he would not put up with her disrespecting you, or creating problems for the family.

  Now, to that other matter. I have made some inquiries and found out a transfer for Ensign Wickham was already in the making. By the time you get this letter, Wickham should be bound for Newcastle. Someone has already bought up all of his debts, so I was unable to assist you. The only further information that Colonel Forster would tell me is that a local gentleman now owns them.

  Well, enough for me, Darcy. Enjoy the bewitching eyes of your fiancée. I look forward to meeting the future Mrs. Darcy quite soon. We will arrive three days prior to the wedding, and are grateful for Bingley’s invitation to stay at Netherfield.

  Till then…yours, etc…R.F.

  *~*~*~*~*

  2 December 1811

  Darcy woke early with a determination to discover what was bothering Elizabeth. He had left her to her own thoughts for the remainder of the day yesterday, hoping and praying that she would be back to her old self when he saw her this morning. Part of him feared that she might not come to meet him today. But he hoped that she would hold to her promise. He had a plan.

  As he stood at his window in the pre-dawn light he worked out the last details of his plan. He would continue to question her until he determined what the problem was. Even if he angered her, it would be preferable to what happened the day before. At least if he angered her, she would talk to him; and hopefully she would tell him what was wrong. Darcy was certain that if he knew what was wrong, he could do something about it. Powerlessness was not something that Darcy could tolerate for long.

  The last time he felt truly powerless was when Georgiana had almost eloped with Wickham. Darcy would not fail Elizabeth. He could not fail this time. If he knew the problem, he could fix it. He was sure of it.

  Chapter 5

  Just before Dawn, Longbourn

  Elizabeth was troubled. Quite troubled; and she just could not shake the feeling of panic. Oh, she knew that she had been completely unfair to Darcy the day before. She imagined that by now, he had worked himself into an apprehension that she had somehow changed her mind about marrying him. It was not that. She thought that, I have no idea how to tell him what is wrong. But I am sure, very sure, that he will not let the subject drop until I tell him all.

  Part of her wished that she could avoid this talk for another day, but she had promised him. She had promised to meet him this morning. So she prepared herself for the day and left the house.

  As soon as Elizabeth crossed over the bridge departing from Longbourn, she saw Darcy leaning against a fence rail. His back was slightly bent, and he was looking out at the field instead of her direction. As she looked, she thought, Ah, he is so handsome and tall. I love his curly hair, and his eyes are loving and kind to me since our engagement, so why do I feel so troubled? I have to be able to speak of this; but I cannot! She continued to contemplate as she approached him, I, I just cannot! But he did ask me to be honest… no more white lies. I will have to try and let it go. I must. I cannot make him miserable all morning as I did yesterday. I must attempt conversation. Oh, but how? I am mortified, mused Elizabeth.

  Just before Elizabeth reached him, Darcy shook himself out of his reverie long enough to see her approaching. He turned towards her, the smile on his face was like sunshine glowing on his entire countenance, and it reached her. She felt his smile deep within her soul. Elizabeth tentatively smiled back at him, and looked again at the ground. She was attempting to look more open, more receptive today. Her arms were at her side, she was walking slower and she stopped in front of him.

  “Good morning, Elizabeth,” he said with a hopeful lift in his voice. She still appeared to be quite troubled, but she looked to be in at least slightly better spirits today.

  “Good morning, sir,” she looked at him quickly and then diverted her eyes yet again. She really was trying.

  “Ah…so I am still ‘sir’ today?” Darcy smiled at her and lifted his brow in question. She glanced at him.

  “I guess, sir, I mean William,” she said in almost a whisper.

  He reached out and lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, contemplating for a minute that she was going to resist even that, but she allowed it. He released her hand quickly, not wanting to push her too much. He was intent upon getting to the bottom of what was disturbing her today.

  He offered her his arm and said as he began to turn, “Come, and let us walk.”

  Elizabeth did place her arm through his, but her hand was so tentatively placed, that it only touched his sleeve. Darcy was content for the moment, as she was not rejecting him outright. His determination began to rise to the surface as they began to walk
.

  “Elizabeth, I know you were very upset about something yesterday. Are you feeling better today?”

  “A little, sir.”

  “Can you tell me what is troubling you?” he continued.

  “No, sir,” she responded softly.

  “Can not, or will not, tell me?”

  “Either, both…”

  “Are you unwell?"

  “I am well, sir,” but she continued to stare at the ground as they walked.

  “Is someone in your family unwell?"

  “They are well, sir.”

  “Have I said something to upset you, Elizabeth?”

  “No, sir, although I would prefer it if you could let this go.”

  “I cannot, Elizabeth. Do you not see how much I care about you?”

  “I do, sir,” she said and they continued to walk slowly.

  “So you will not tell me?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What if I guess it?” He was trying to be creative in his attempts to get to the bottom of this.

  “Guess what, sir?”

  “If I guess what is troubling you?” Darcy smiled as he responded.

  “I do not know that you can, sir.”

  “Has someone in my family upset you? Did my Aunt disturb you?"

  “My father talked with her, sir, not me.”

  “You did not speak with Lady Catherine?”

  “No, I did not, sir.”

  “Are you overwhelmed with plans for the wedding, Elizabeth?”

  “No, I am fine.” She stopped for a moment and looked up at him, “I am fine, William.”

  “I do not believe you, Elizabeth! Remember you told me no more lies, not even little white ones? You remember, do you not?” He reached out and touched the side of her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “I remember you asking me. I do not remember agreeing.”

  And then she began to walk again. Darcy, turned and walked with her and said, “Elizabeth, do you not trust me?”

  “I want to, William.”

  “But you do not yet trust me?”

  “Yes. No. Ah… Oh… I don’t know.”

  “Can you truly not tell me what is bothering you?”

  “No,” was all she said. Ah, thought Darcy this is progress. At least she has admitted that something is bothering her, even though she will not trust me enough to reveal it.

  “Someone has said something that has disturbed you?”

  Elizabeth said nothing. Darcy proceeded to go through all of her family members asking if one of them disturbed her, until he asked her, “Was it your mother?”

  Again there was silence. It appeared that William was on the right track now.

  “Your mother has spoken unkindly to you, Elizabeth. Is that what has disturbed you?”

  “No.”

  “But your mother said something to you that has upset you?”

  “Not directly… not exactly…” and she breathed heavily. “William I cannot tell you this. Do not ask it of me. Please let this go. It will benefit nothing. It is not proper…” and she caught herself quickly as she was afraid that she had said too much.

  Darcy contemplated what she had just said. She thinks she cannot speak of it. She has heard something from her mother. She thinks it is not proper to tell me… ah… Darcy suddenly relaxed. He had an idea of the topic that had disturbed her. We are to be married in a little over a week. She does not believe that she can speak of this with me. Ah, her mother may have spoken to her about marital duties.

  Elizabeth sensed that he might have guessed the subject of her distress. But what should I tell him if he insists. Can I speak with him? I know not how.

  “Elizabeth, do you know of a bench or a place where we might sit for a few minutes, my dear.”

  “Yes, William, there is nice quiet place off this upcoming path. There is a bench that my father once carved out of a log. We can go there, I suppose. But I do not promise that being off the open road will cause me to speak to you, sir.”

  They walked in companionable silence for a bit. Both were full of anxiety regarding whether a conversation would be forthcoming. What or how much would be revealed? As they reached the bench, Darcy motioned for Elizabeth to sit, and then he sat next to her. He reached out and took one of her hands into both of us.

  “Elizabeth, look at me for a moment,” and she turned towards him to look at him. “We are alone, just you and me. We are to be married in little more than a week. God will bind us together for the remainder of our lives. There should be nothing between us. Please talk with me. What did your mother say to you?”

  Elizabeth found she could not maintain the intensity of his look, but she found the courage to say, “William, she did not speak to me directly, I overheard a conversation.”

  “Were you eavesdropping, my love?” He smiled teasingly at her, and it broke the tension a little for her.

  Glancing at him, she shook her head and gave a tentative smile back, “I assure you kind sir, if I had realized what I was going to hear, I would have been anywhere else. Oh, how I wish I had never heard what they said.”

  “They, Elizabeth?” he said with a question in his voice.

  “My mother and her friends.” She took a deep breath and looked at her hand clasped in his. “They were in the back parlour, where we were the day of your proposal. I was behind the pocket door in the small sewing room.”

  “What did they speak of, Elizabeth? Please tell me! We cannot start our marriage with anything between us. Please trust me! I want to hear everything and anything you want to say to me. I will not love you less. I promise.” He paused just a minute and asked in a very quiet voice, “Did they speak of ah... marital duties, Elizabeth?”

  Too strongly, she gasped in surprise, “How did you…” Then Elizabeth stood up and began to pace back and forth--short strides, not fast, back and forth in front of the log. She rubbed her brow, she wrung her hands, she hugged herself, and then she stopped and looked at him.

  “William, I will tell you if you insist. But before I start, you need to know that I am mortified. If I tell you, however, sir, you must agree to remain seated. You cannot touch me or hold my hand while I tell you this,” she started pacing again.

  "You cannot interrupt me. I fear an angry reaction from you, and believe that you will have one to at least to part of what I heard. I can only tell you this if you promise to agree to these things. Will you agree to this?” She stopped and looked at him again.

  “Yes, my dear, I will agree to all you have asked.” Little did he know how hard it would be to hold to his agreement!

  “It would perhaps be best if I just told you about the whole of the interchange that I overheard…”

  *~*~*~*~*

  Two Days Previously (Subtitle: The Frigid Witty Bitty Sisterhood)

  Elizabeth had entered the sewing room in preparation to do some mending. Darcy had left after luncheon with her family, as he had just returned from London and had correspondence that demanded his attention.

  When she entered the sewing room, she realized that she could overhear her mother and her friends in the back parlour. She sat down to mend the hem in one of her dresses, but she was arrested by the first words that she heard.

  “Fanny, what a good match your Elizabeth has made,” it was Mrs. Long.

  “Yes, indeed, although Mr. Darcy appears to be quite disagreeable and slighted her in the past, she will want for nothing. He has 10,000 a year I understand,“ stated her Aunt Phillips.

  “Most likely more. He has a house in town and a very large estate in Derbyshire. Oh, the pin money she will have, the carriages, the jewellery and the gowns. My Lizzy will want for nothing. Nothing indeed,” gloated her mother.

  Lady Lucas joined in, “He is such a tall and imposing gentleman. I am sure he is quite used to getting exactly what he wants. I fear your Elizabeth will be in for rude awakenings come her wedding night.”

  “Ah yes, Lucy, and I imagine he will demand an heir right awa
y. He is seven or eight and twenty, I believe. He has waited long enough to get married after all,” declared Aunt Philips with sound conviction, responding to Lady Lucas. She laughed, causing the other three to join in.

  “Yes, indeed, he is most likely quite eager to join with my Lizzy. You should see the way he looks at her since their engagement. I would imagine he would be quite a demanding husband from the passionate looks I have seen on his face. I certainly never saw such a look on Mr. Bennet’s face. When men have their carnal needs, they usually just come raise your skirt or gown and in three minutes they are gone.” Mrs. Bennet laughed heartily.

  “It has never been a problem for me to lie still and let Mr. Long lift my gown. He was always in and out quite quickly, thank God.”

  “Fanny, have you spoken to Elizabeth of her duties yet? She needs a warning. He is such a tall and large man; she needs time to prepare herself. She is so small and so slight. I hope she can manage the first time. I would suppose it would be quite, quite painful for her. I wonder if she is even big enough to fit him in,” Aunt Phillips cackled.

  “Oh my, he may just split her open. I hope they don’t have to call for the apothecary after their first time,” added Mrs. Long.

  “Linda, you know Fanny does not need to completely terrify the poor girl. I remember on my honeymoon, the first time I saw Sir William’s manhood, I was so shocked I passed out. He just had his way with me anyway. Probably easier that way, I was just sore the next day. I did not have to remember the moment of pain when he entered me for the first time!”