Too Close to Mr Darcy

by Claire Cartier

  “You should not forget,” Jane interrupted, “that Mary chose this fate for herself. She is hardly to be mourned when, in fact, I suspect she might be faring the best out of all of us.”

  “Ah, regardless…” Elizabeth sighed. “That weasel of a woman has set herself up as Longbourn’s mistress—”

  Jane chuckled despite herself. She stood up and turned, gently removing the brush from Elizabeth’s clenched fingers and resting it on the dressing table. Then, she took her sister’s hands and led her to the bed where she helped her to a seat. It was not the first time Jane had struggled to calm Elizabeth’s anger at their helplessness and circumstance.

  It was hard to point to any bright side of their situation, so Jane simply repeated what she always said when Elizabeth’s cheeks grew red with fury and her knuckles turned white from clamping her fists too tightly.

  “We are still together, are we not? We have been allowed to stay at home…”

  “Not for too long, I suppose,” Elizabeth said, defeat lacing her words.

  Jane’s brow arched in a question.

  “Did you not see how ecstatic Mrs. Collins became at the mention of this guest we are entertaining tomorrow?” Elizabeth said.

  “I still do not understand,” Jane admitted.

  “Oh, Jane,” Elizabeth said, her eyes glistening fervidly. “It could only mean this gentleman our cousin is so eager to introduce to us, to you, would be a possible suitor. There is nothing Mrs. Collins desires more than to get rid of us both and have Longbourn all to herself. From the way she has been treating us, I can only gather that we are the last obstacle to her everlasting happiness. Having us marry as soon as possible is her only chance at achieving her objective other than burning us alive or suffocating us in our sleep.”

  “Lizzy!” Jane scolded. “You are being too grim.”

  “Consider it, Jane,” Elizabeth continued even more ardently. “First, our cousin will find a somewhat acceptable gentleman to lure you away with the promise of wealth and freedom—”

  “You believe me that naive then?” Jane interrupted.

  “You must hear me out, Jane,” Elizabeth continued solemnly. “Then, I will be stranded here with the two of them, each day taking on more of their ill-treatment, squandering my days reading what is left of Papa’s library (and there is not much, I am afraid), having tea in the grave silence of Cousin Henrieta’s stirring company, and counting the minutes until the post arrives and I receive word from either you or the suddenly too pious Mary, because I do not trust Lydia or Kitty would take a moment away from their new busy lives to remember their old spinster sister—”

  “Lizzy! Whatever has possessed you?!” Jane exclaimed.

  “I am not finished,” Elizabeth said. “Eventually, Cousin Collins would invite yet another guest to Longbourn. He would be the most hideous toad perceivable and his off-putting appearance would be the least of his shortcomings, but by this time my life would be so meaningless and drab that I would jump at any proposal of marriage, however unfavorable. And from then on, I would become the sheepish wife of Mr. Bad Breath and Yellow Teeth, all my spirit drained…”

  Jane laughed despite herself.

  “You must not forget, however,” she said, winking conspiratorially, “that as soon as I marry this supposedly charming and wealthy gentleman we are to meet tomorrow, I would not hesitate to steal you away as part of my dowry and have you live with us on our grand estate where you could sulk all you would like and send any remotely pleasant suitor away.”

  Both sisters bent over with laughter at the preposterous idea.

  “That may not be so hard to endure,” Elizabeth mused aloud when she had had a moment to recover her breath. “In fact, I believe I would rather enjoy helping to bring up your numerous offspring. I imagine I would rejoice in days full of good conversation, sumptuous meals, long walks and countless hours among your husband’s rich book collections. It is a life I would much rather have than needing to abide by the restrictions of my own marriage and having to please a most horrid husband like, say, that intolerable Mr. Darcy…”

  “And here you bring up his name again,” Jane said with a knowing smirk. “I thought you had sworn never to speak of him again and, in fact, forget about his existence altogether after he allegedly insulted you at the Meryton Assembly last year.”

  “Oh, there was nothing alleged about it,” Elizabeth hurried to say, her cheeks flushed in the flickering light of the candle. “I still maintain that he is the most despicable man on Earth.”

  “And yet, you cannot seem to stop speaking of him.”

  “Only because I find it hard to stop resenting the conceited, vile nature of men,” Elizabeth offered, fully aware that her argument was feeble and failed to fool her sister.

  “Not all men, mind you,” Jane said, smiling mysteriously, and stood up.

  Both sisters climbed into bed and fell silent for a while, each focused on her own troubling vision of their future at Longbourn. Eventually, Jane was the one to break the silence.

  “Lizzy,” she said cautiously. “May I ask you something?”

  “Surely,” Elizabeth said, still distracted by her dark thoughts.

  “Where is it that you go when you head out on one of your walks? For the life of me, I cannot imagine reaching any further than the creek by the woods’ edge without being paralyzed by fear. Are there not odd strangers traversing the same routes as yours? Are there not wild animals? I understand that you need the escape but even then I cannot imagine where I would go if I were suddenly struck with the need to flee.”

  Elizabeth sighed deeply. She had used to walk on her own long before the tragedy that changed life for all the Bennet sisters. She would simply roam the countryside and breathe. She would amble through the beautiful swathes of rolling green divided by walls of mossy grey stone and think. It had been her time to explore, ruminate and brighten her spirits.

  Now, the practice had become her small act of rebellion against the changes in her life that she had no control over. Despite being strictly forbidden to leave the house unchaperoned, she often broke the directive and found herself wandering further and further away from home even though the practice increased her chances of being caught and admonished or even punished.

  “Sometimes I would reach the cemetery and sometimes—” Elizabeth started.

  “That far?” Jane was in shock.

  “Yes, but more often than not, I would simply go wherever my feet take me. I like to watch the day break and life start to wake up out in the fields. It gives me the peace of mind to think clearly and consider every last opportunity we have to leave this place.”

  “This place is our home,” Jane countered.

  “It is not any longer,” Elizabeth said with conviction. “It is a prison, Jane.”

  “And what schemes have you devised other than either of us getting married?” Jane asked suspiciously.

  “We could work,” Elizabeth said and Jane propped herself up in her bed, appalled. If she had been able to discern her sister’s features in the gloom of the room better, Elizabeth might have reconsidered speaking more on the subject. She could not, however, and continued with passion. “There are others who do it. I have heard of it. Governesses, teachers, maids…”

  “You would prefer to be a maid to being married?” Jane’s dismay was boundless.

  “I would prefer to be able to support both of us, whatever is required of me. Fine, perhaps we shall not be maids, but governesses? I do not see why not, Jane. It is a perfectly respectable occupation and it would allow us to save some money and make a life for ourselves. It is not impossible. The more I think of it, the more attractive such a life seems to me instead of staying a slave to Mrs. Collins’ whims.”

  Suddenly, a loud knock on the door reminded them that tallow was in short supply and needed to be better rationed. Elizabeth bit her lip, fearing that her last words may have been overheard through the door’s wooden panels. She should have contained her enthus
iasm and spoken more quietly.

  Jane blew out the candle and both snuggled into bed.

  This time, Mrs. Collins did not enter to check whether Elizabeth had hidden yet another book under her mattress or if their gowns and undergarments had been folded and put away in the clothes press according to her instruction. With rarely a maid at their disposal, the two sisters had taken on a number of tasks that were still foreign and uncomfortable for them.

  As they listened to the frigid wind whistling outside and rattling the window panes, Jane and Elizabeth continued to whisper well past midnight.

  “I wonder who our guest will be,” Elizabeth sighed, half-asleep already. “Can we even hope that he would be only half as hideous as our cousin?”

  Jane stifled a giggle and pressed her eyes closed.

  Elizabeth turned on her side and pulled the blankets tighter around her shoulders, the wind’s nightly song finally lulling her to sleep.

  3

  When Elizabeth slipped out of the house, the sky was still black, dotted with tiny silver lights like pinpricks on a dark canvas. Both her mind and her feet were restless and she walked further than she had intended, not minding the cold, the narrowing path or the spooky darkness that surrounded her.

  Last night, before she had fallen asleep, she had promised herself to be more careful this time and not get caught. Now that she was determined to find a way for Jane and herself to leave Longbourn, she needed less attention drawn to her actions. Her feet did not obey, however.

  By the time she reached the cemetery gates, the morning light had rosed the horizon and soft, peach-tinted clouds huddled around the spot where the sun was about to emerge.

  Elizabeth’s breath hitched when she realized how far she had walked. She could not afford to be seen here. Parishioners would soon start to gather in the small chapel courtyard and, since they all held her cousin in very high regard, her early-morning, solitary visit to her parents’ graves would soon reach Henrieta Collins’ ears. Still, she was not about to turn and walk back before she had sat for a silent minute before Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s resting place.

  She waited behind a cluster of frosted, bare rose bushes for a woman to rise from a recent grave nearby. Considering the early hour, she must be yet another soul whose fresh grief had kept her up at night. The only sounds came from the birds’ morning chatter and the quiet sobbing of the woman a few paces away.

  Elizabeth had also had a sleepless night. Shortly after the candle light had been extinguished, she had drifted off only to wake up soon after bathed in sweat and unable to rest. Visions of her bleak future, once Jane would undoubtedly get married, tormented her through the rest of the night. What could Elizabeth expect from her coming days, weeks and even years?

  She came out of her hiding place once the woman was safely on her way back to the village and she had the eerie place all to herself.

  Elizabeth looked around. Mold covered the engravings dedicated to the dead. Trees leaned towards the stones, slick black branches reaching out to each other. The smell of old stone and smoke drifting in from the nearby village filled the dry air. Gravel paths wove through the maze of graves, allowing passers-by to pay their respects to the people lined up in the earth’s embrace.

  Elizabeth neared her parents’ graves and kneeled down beside their shared headstone. She brushed the frost off the granite’s surface, traced the dear names etched into it and caressed the clumps of dead black moss that had formed at the base of the stone.

  On her past visits, she would always weep, but today her eyes were dry and blind with anger.

  It was all so absurd.

  The memory of the carriage accident that had claimed Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s lives and the aftermath of the horrific incident still danced vividly in Elizabeth’s mind. Worst of all was the recollection of how soon Longbourn had become inundated with well-wishing relatives, robbing the girls of the ability to properly mourn the loss of their parents.

  Oh, the clamor of them all!

  Cook had hardly been able to manage putting out meals to feed the voracious crowd. Maids scuttled in and out of the parlor, weaving their way through the noisy throng while balancing silver trays with refreshments.

  Someone would offer the Bennet sisters smelling salts, another would loudly read a religious passage selected for just such occasions and meant to soothe the throbbing ache that had rendered Elizabeth completely numb.

  Nothing would help.

  Everyone had tried to comfort the girls with their own recipe for overcoming heartbreak. Only, rarely did anyone’s tone or the greedy gleam in their eyes speak of compassion. Even in the state she had been in, Elizabeth had spotted her cousin’s new wife, Henrieta Collins, already calculating and assessing the value of what she now considered hers. Without a male heir to take over the estate, Longbourn now rightfully passed into Cousin Collins and his wife’s hands.

  A measure of peace was only restored to the house a week or so after the funeral. Guests had left for the most part and the last ones were trickling out at last. They reminded Elizabeth of vultures, each setting their eyes on a precious painting or a vase and snatching it upon departure, declaring it a “dear keepsake that would help keep the memory of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet fresh” in their minds.

  The girls had been too weak to protest at the time. They would sit huddled together like lifeless puppets, silently nodding their approval. Were it not for Henrieta Collins’ maniacal watching over her new property, Longbourn might have been left completely bare by the time the door shut after the last of the mourners had left.

  While all sisters were profoundly stricken by their loss and appeared as helpless as a wild animal’s abandoned litter, all nestled together, weeping and feeling hopeless and lost, they had a different way of expressing their grief.

  Kitty and Lydia were the most vocal about their sorrow. A makeshift family council determined that the youngest two Bennet daughters most needed the guidance and support of their closest relatives.

  After some initial quarreling about who would live with which aunt, Lydia traveled to London to stay with the Gardiners, while Kitty remained in the care of the Phillipses. Unfortunately, neither family could afford to take in more than one niece and the sisters were forced to disperse.

  The day Kitty and Lydia left felt like a slap to Elizabeth’s face that finally brought her back to reality. It felt as if she had woken up after a year-long sleep to discover that Longbourn would never be the same again. It broke her heart all over again.

  Mary left soon after. Surprisingly mature and aware of her own needs and wishes at such a difficult time, she had chosen the unlikely option of taking the veil. Upon her sisters’ dismayed reaction to her unexpected decision, she had offered that it was the only way she would be able to properly mourn her parents and find meaning in her life again. When they saw the gleaming conviction in Mary’s eyes, none of her sisters thought again about dissuading her from pursuing her sudden call to faith.

  At first, Jane and Elizabeth had been pleased with the arrangement of getting to stay behind in Longbourn under the care and supervision of their cousin and his wife. Too soon it became clear that it was not going to be the life they had envisioned for themselves.

  Now, kneeling at her parents’ grave, Elizabeth felt her resolve strengthen. She was going to find a way out! She relaxed her tightly pressed lips, rubbed her dry, red-rimmed eyes and let herself enjoy the weak sunlight that kissed her cheeks. It was time to go. The first faithful were already approaching the chapel courtyard for the early morning service.

  Elizabeth muttered a quick prayer and stood up. Then she clambered over the low stone fence of the cemetery and started running until it felt like she had expended her last bit of strength. Her heart galloped in her chest and her temples throbbed by the time she reached Longbourn’s garden. Mentally, she prepared herself to be scolded again.

  Suddenly, a hand shot out of the nearby hedge and clutched her upper arm, pulling her out of balance. Eliza
beth’s heart started racing again and she did her best to stifle a scream. Instead, what came out of her lips sounded more like a whimper. Her first grim thought was that Mrs. Collins had finally had enough of her transgressions and disobedience and was about to drag her over to the well, drop her in the icy waters and mercilessly leave her to drown while she watched.

  A set of warm, familiar brown eyes greeted her instead and shook her out of her grim predictions. If Elizabeth did not know these eyes so well, she might have not recognized the bundled-up creature that stood before her.

  “Charlotte?” Elizabeth said, taking a step back to better assess her friend’s odd appearance. “What are you doing here?”

  “It is a surprise!” Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth’s closest friend, said and wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s quivering shoulders. Unlike Elizabeth, Charlotte had taken great care to dress herself for the weather in thick, warm layers, leaving only her eyes exposed to the frigid morning air.

  Elizabeth soon pulled out of the hug and looked around nervously. Most of her privileges had already been taken away anyway, but still she feared she might be forbidden from seeing Charlotte again if the two of them were discovered meeting in this illicit manner.

  “Charlotte, it is so early!” Elizabeth said, her teeth chattering. “Is anything the matter? Are you here alone?”

  “Ah, do not be daft, Lizzy,” Charlotte whispered. “I do not possess your courage. Our housekeeper had business this way and I asked to accompany her.” Then she added with a wink, “She owes me a favor or two.”

  “But where is your carriage?” Elizabeth asked, craning her neck to better look around. “Out front?”

  “No. Of course not,” Charlotte said indignantly. “We stopped a little way back, just behind the curve on the lane. I might not be as bold as you are but I know a thing or two about secret meetings.”

  “And how would you?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly amused. “Do not tell me that—”

  “No,” Charlotte hurried to intercept. “Nothing of the sort. Books, mostly. In any case, this is not what I have come to discuss.”