Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (20 page)

With a frown, Darcy said, “That odd
question she asked – about whether we were teasing her. How could she
imagine we would tease about such a thing?”

“I have no idea. I suppose we should be
grateful she did not have a fit of the vapors, but she did not seem to care in
the slightest. I cannot say I know Anne well. She has always preferred to speak
to her companion instead of me, but apparently I know her even less than I
thought.”

Darcy took a sip of the brandy and let it
slide down his throat. “I always avoided speaking to her. Even looking in her
direction could set Lady Catherine off on the advantages of a match between us.
But I admit I am shocked by Anne’s behavior today.”

Richard drained his glass at a pace
unsuited for brandy, then filled it again. “Speaking of being shocked, I take
it the lovely Miss Bennet is the young lady towards whom you have intentions.”

Darcy frowned. “Did she tell you that?”

“Not at all. I could say it was because of
that odd conversation about her uncle, or because you used her Christian name
and held her hand at the carriage wreck. But I was uncertain until I learned
you had told her the tale of your stepmother.
That
was as good as an
announcement in the papers to my mind.”

Of course. Elizabeth could not have known
it was something he did not speak of. “I will not deny she is the woman I spoke
of, but the matter is still undecided. As you saw earlier, we have yet to
resolve certain matters.”

“You are not certain you wish to marry
her?” Richard asked sharply.

“
I
am certain, but I do not know
what she wishes. We might have had the opportunity to sort it out today, but
heaven only knows when that will happen now.”

Richard nodded slowly, but the blankness
had faded from his eyes, replaced by a thoughtful look.

***

The parsonage was quiet. Mr. Collins had
not yet returned from Rosings Park. Charlotte was busy trimming her mourning
clothes and sewing black armbands for the servants. Elizabeth had tried to
help, but Charlotte had gently told her to read her book when it became clear
she was too unsettled to keep her thoughts on any tasks.

Concentrating on her book, however, was
impossible. All Elizabeth could think of was her interrupted conversation with
Mr. Darcy.

If he had told the truth about calling at
the Gardiners’ house, then she had to also believe his claim that her father
had not given him her letter. If only there had been enough time to ask him
what her father had said to him!

Perhaps she should write her father and
demand the truth. No, that would solve nothing. Even if her father admitted to
it, it might take weeks before he bothered to respond to a letter. But there
was someone whom she could ask about part of Mr. Darcy’s story. 

“Charlotte, is there somewhere I could
write a letter?”

“Of course. There is a small desk in the
back sitting room.”

“Thank you.” Glad for the excuse to escape
Charlotte’s sharp eyes, she hurried out.

There was paper and ink aplenty in the
desk, though the quill needed sharpening. In her impatience, Elizabeth managed
to split the pen when she attempted to mend it, but fortunately there was a
second. This time she was more careful, and soon began to write.

Darcy rubbed his eyes with ink-stained
fingers. Three letters done, which left only two dozen more. Thank God Richard
was taking half of them. Anne had taken to her bed, but since she still showed
no signs of distress, Darcy suspected it was nothing more than a ploy to avoid
taking on her share of the work.

Knowing Elizabeth was just a short
distance away at the parsonage was a constant distraction. He reached into his
pocket to touch the worn ribbon. So much was left unresolved. How could she
have thought he would lie to her? They had much to discuss, yet here he was,
tied to a desk for the foreseeable future. But even if he were not, it would be
inappropriate for him to leave a house of mourning to pay a social call. Lady
Catherine would be delighted if she knew how much trouble she managed to cause
even in death. 

He checked the list the housekeeper had
given him, then wrote the next name on a fresh sheet of paper.
I regret to
inform you…

Higgins knocked on the open door. “Mrs.
Collins and Miss Bennet are calling. Shall I tell them you are not at home?”

That was what he
should
do. There
was no time to waste on social calls, not with the stack of correspondence
before him. But duty be damned! Why should he be forced to pay for Lady
Catherine’s failings? His breathing quickened. “Show them in, please.”

The butler pursed his lips in an
expression which had always meant he would be informing Lady Catherine of some
unfortunate behavior on Darcy’s part. Well, he could report it to Anne if he
pleased. Had Higgins been employed at Pemberley, he would have been dismissed
long ago for daring to judge his betters. “If that is what you wish, sir.”

“If it were not what I wished, then why
would I have said it?” snapped Darcy.

His back erect with offense, Higgins
stalked off. Definitely dismissed without character! Darcy wished Anne joy with
the staff she had inherited. Of course, she had never known anything
else. 

Mrs. Collins was dressed all in black,
naturally, while Elizabeth seemed slightly muted in pale lavender.
Half-mourning, even though she had only met his aunt once? It was respectful,
certainly, but Darcy would have given a great deal to see her light up the room
with color and laughter. Only one day and already he was weary of the funerary
atmosphere. “Welcome, Mrs. Collins, Miss Bennet.”

Mrs. Collins flashed a quick smile. “I
know you must be very busy, so we will not trouble you with polite niceties. We
came to pay our condolences, but also to see if we could be useful in any way.”

If only he could ask for the thing which
would help most – to leave Elizabeth with him. “That is very kind of you,
especially as we already imposed on you yesterday. I must again give you my
thanks for your level-headed assistance at the scene of the accident.”

Elizabeth’s fine eyes were fixed on him.
“It was the least we could do under the circumstances, and we would still be
happy to be useful.”

Just the sound of her voice soothed his
nerves. It was too bad it would be inappropriate to ask for more of that.

Mrs. Collins’s voice broke into his
reverie. “It occurred to me Miss de Bourgh has no female relatives present to
assist her in preparing the body, even if her health permits her to perform
those duties. I would be glad to offer my services.”

“Mrs. Collins, I must admit it would be a
relief to me. My cousin has taken to her bed, leaving those duties to Mrs.
Jenkinson. Since she cannot manage them on her own, the housekeeper has been
assisting her, but I know my aunt would have preferred not to involve the
servants directly in the preparations.”

“I would be honored to be of assistance.
Is there anything else? Lizzy has, of course, offered to assist with preparing
the body as well, but as she only met Lady Catherine one time, I thought it
would not be appropriate.”

Elizabeth said, “Naturally I insisted on
accompanying her here anyway in case I might be of use in some other manner.”
Her eyes seemed to send a different message, though. Or was it simply that he
wanted so badly for her to have come to see
him
?

He locked gazes with her. “I am very glad
you did so. Very glad, though I believe all other preparations are progressing
well enough. Richard and I have nothing to complain of beyond excessive
correspondence which will keep us busy most of the day.”

Richard strode into the room. “And
complain of it I shall! I feel as if I am back in the schoolroom. Good morning,
ladies.”

Mrs. Collins’s brows drew together. “Is
not Mr. Lymon available?”

Darcy scowled. “Lady Catherine’s so-called
secretary? I discovered this morning he is extremely gifted at the art of
flattery, but cannot compose even the simplest letter without constant
direction, and even then in barely adequate handwriting, certainly not suitable
for formal correspondence.”

Elizabeth’s lips curved in a slight smile.
“I am not a secretary, but I write a fair hand. If the letters are not of a
personal nature, perhaps I could assist you.”

He should not accept her offer. She was
not part of the family yet, and he should not impose upon a gentlewoman to do a
secretary’s work. But it would give him an excuse to keep her by his side, and
that was more precious to him than diamonds.

Thankfully, Richard seemed to have no such
hesitations, “Miss Bennet, you must be an angel descended directly from heaven!
I would be perpetually in your debt. Of course, Darcy can be a stern
taskmaster, but I imagine you have ways to soothe the savage beast.” He winked
at Elizabeth.

Darcy said gravely, “If it would not be a
great imposition, I would be most grateful for your assistance.” She could not
possibly imagine just how grateful he was.

***

On the following day, Mr. Collins did not
return to the parsonage until dusk. “What a fine thing it is to return after a
long day to my own humble abode! And what a day it has been! I daresay Lady
Catherine would have been most pleased by it.”

Charlotte set aside her work. “I am
certain you led the funeral in an exemplary manner. Did you dine at Rosings, or
shall we prepare something for you here?”

Mr. Collins puffed out his chest. “I did
indeed dine at Rosings, and was invited to do so by no less a personage than
Lord Matlock! His condescension almost equals that of Lady Catherine herself. I
have no doubt he is universally acknowledged to be one of the greatest men in
England.”

Elizabeth hid a smile. She wondered how
Mr. Collins would respond when he discovered she was to become Lord Matlock’s
niece. She could hardly credit it herself. The previous day they had no
opportunity to speak privately, but Darcy’s smiles and gentle touches on her
arm as she had assisted him with his letters had assured her he did indeed
intend to follow through on his long-ago promise to marry her. Even thinking of
him made her want to hug herself.

Charlotte said, “That is an honor indeed!
We watched as you and the other gentlemen in the funerary procession went
past.”

Elizabeth had only had eyes for Mr. Darcy.
More than once she had seen him glance toward the parsonage. Had he been
thinking of her?

Mr. Collins launched into a long soliloquy
about the funeral service, including where each of the gentlemen stood by the
graveside and their expressions during the crucial points of his prayer. “If I
do say so myself, I believe it was one of my finest funerals! Lord Matlock
seemed most impressed. He even said Lady Catherine had been fortunate to have
me as a rector. Poor lady!”

Charlotte said soothingly, “It is a great
loss to all of us, but most especially to you, since you knew her so well.

“It is true; I do feel it exceedingly. But
I know she would be joyous tonight, for all of her plans will finally be
realized! But I am going ahead of my story. After we adjourned to Rosings, the
solicitor read Lady Catherine’s will, which was, I imagine, quite a surprise to
all the gentlemen. Lord Matlock clearly had not expected it.” Mr. Collins
rubbed his hands together.

“Why, what was so surprising? Did she not
leave everything to Miss de Bourgh?”

“
That
was what everyone
anticipated. But here is where Lady Catherine’s true brilliance shines through!
Miss de Bourgh will only receive her inheritance if she is married to Mr. Darcy
within the year. If they do not wed, she will be left penniless, and Rosings
will go to a distant cousin. Of course, Mr. Darcy could never permit his cousin
to lose her inheritance, so Lady Catherine’s dearest wish will soon be granted!
Is that not the cleverest conceit you have ever heard, my dear?”

Elizabeth stared at him, her mouth dry.
Could this be true? Mr. Darcy’s sense of family responsibility was powerful.
Had Lady Catherine after all managed to put a period to their plans from beyond
the grave?

Charlotte shot her a concerned glance.
“Most clever indeed. What did Mr. Darcy say when it was revealed?”

“Nothing at first, though he did not seem
best pleased. Lord Matlock said he was certain Darcy knew his duty, and Mr.
Darcy replied it was neither the time nor the place to discuss it. Once the
solicitors were finished, he left and did not dine with the rest of us. No
doubt he was already with Miss de Bourgh, who took dinner in her rooms.”

Despite the hollow ache in her chest,
Elizabeth could picture it – Darcy stalking off in a quiet rage to nurse
his wounds in private. He must be furious at being placed in such a position.
He could not have foreseen this any more than she had. Fate had played a cruel
trick on them both.

“Lizzy, is your headache worse?” asked
Charlotte. “Perhaps you should lie down and rest for a time.”

“My headache? Oh, yes,” said Elizabeth
dully. “You are quite right. I shall go upstairs directly and rest.”

If sobbing quietly into her pillow could
be called resting, she rested for some time.

***

A letter from Gracechurch Street arrived
at Hunsford the following day while Charlotte was at Rosings with her husband.
Elizabeth stared at it dully. Why bother to read it when the answers no longer
made a difference? Her last hope had been that Mr. Darcy might contact her that
morning. He must know Mr. Collins would have revealed the contents of the will.
But no word had come.

With a sigh, she broke the seal on her
aunt’s letter.

My dearest Lizzy,

As it happens, I do not need to apply
to your uncle, as I am already aware of this matter. You had been here about a
fortnight when Mr. Darcy called, asking to see our dear Jane. You and I were on
an outing with the children when she received his card. Uncertain of the best
course of action, especially since her acquaintance with him was too slender to
warrant a call, she approached your uncle.

In light of your situation, your uncle
could only assume Mr. Darcy had called on Jane in order to discern your
whereabouts. That he would take such a step rather than to approach your father
suggested his interest was not an honorable one. Your uncle’s first suggestion
was for Jane to see him and tell him she was unsure where you were, and refer
him to your father, but Jane doubted her ability to maintain such a deception.
Your uncle, concerned you might return before Mr. Darcy departed, decided to
direct him to Longbourn himself, and told Mr. Darcy Jane had already left us
and was back at home. Mr. Darcy was clearly displeased by this intelligence,
but made no quarrel with it.

Afterwards, your uncle and I came to
the conclusion it would be better for you remain unaware of the incident, as it
could only cause you even more distress to discover Mr. Darcy planned to take
advantage of your loss of reputation. If there have been unfortunate
consequences of this decision, I am truly sorry. We made it with your best
interests in mind.

So it
was
true. Not that she had
really doubted it, at least not since the day of Lady Catherine’s death, but it
was different to know for certain – and just when it was too late.

If only her father had given him the
letter, or the Gardiners told her of Mr. Darcy’s visit, the one she had been so
longing for, by now she would be firmly engaged, if not already married to him.
Anger tightened her chest. The people who loved her had cost her the chance of
happiness, and for the rest of her life, she would regret what she had lost.
What she and Darcy had
both
lost, for she did not doubt he was feeling
the same regrets for their lost future. How could her family have done this to
her?

But the voice of her conscience could not
be stilled. It was
her
fault as well. If she had accepted Mr. Darcy’s
proposal during the storm, or if she had gone with her father to call on Darcy,
or even if she had told the Gardiners of her hopes and expectations, none of
this would have happened. Her pride made her keep it a secret so no one could
know of her disappointed hopes. Or if she had only listened to Mr. Darcy her
first night in Kent, they might have reached an understanding then, and Lady
Catherine would not have decided to race down a road to her death. No, her loss
was at least as much her own fault, and she could blame no one but herself.