So Long, Sentiment

by Amber Allen-King

  She wondered if there was something more between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy than Elizabeth had revealed. Indeed, Elizabeth had told her nothing about her relations with Mr. Darcy. Olivia had only guessed that Lizzy had run off because of him. Olivia began to wonder if there were two romantic entanglements to be straightened out. Eventually, however, her mind came back to the reality of the present. She felt wretched. This whole scheme was my own doing, and I must bear the consequences of my folly. Olivia covered her face with her hands and wept.

  • • •

  At the sound of Elizabeth's voice, Jane sprang from her chair and rushed into the corridor, but when she saw Mr. Bingley all thoughts of her sister fled. Jane was only aware of the man who stood before her, equally transfixed. Elizabeth wished she could divert the wave of anxious people who immediately converged upon the spot where Jane and Bingley stood. But, alas, the shrieks of four children and a cry of "Lizzy, is that you?" quickly broke the spell.

  Mr. Bingley was heartily welcomed by all the Gardiners as their Elizabeth's savior. He blushed and stammered at all the attention, and was ushered ceremoniously into the parlor. Sir William Lucas and his daughter, Maria, the only two people in the entire house who hadn't bolted into the entry hall, were reacquainted with their Netherfield neighbor. It took several moments for the clamor to die down, and for Mr. Bingley to be seated next to Elizabeth on the settee.

  Oh, dear, thought Elizabeth. I hope that no suspects Mr. Bingley and me of any sort of attachment! But Mr. Bingley only had eyes for Jane, who sat demurely on the seat nearest the settee, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were well acquainted with Jane and Mr. Bingley's history in Hertfordshire. Mr. Gardiner nudged his wife and they shared a satisfied smile. Refreshments were soon served by a maid who was as delighted as the rest of the household to see her favorite houseguest safe and sound. Elizabeth was pressed by the Gardiner children to tell her story. Elizabeth knew that she would have to lie. She looked at her aunt and averted her eyes. She would have to make things right later.

  "Miss Crenshaw and I decided to go out for some air," she began. "We went to a park, a very large park, with lots of paths with twists and turns," she continued, gesturing with her hands to make the story more entertaining to the children.

  "Bigger than our park across the street?" asked Andrew, aged eight.

  "Oh, much bigger!"

  "Why did you not just go to the little one?" asked Elizabeth's four-year-old namesake.

  Elizabeth hesitated. "Because we were on an adventure!" she said eyes wide. Well, that was not a lie, was it? "Anyway, we started walking through the park and it was so pretty. There were so many things to look at, that when Miss Crenshaw stopped to speak with a friend and I saw something very 'interesting'..."

  "Was it a monster?" asked Edward, who at ten, saw monsters everywhere. Elizabeth smirked enigmatically before answering. She continued her tale, being careful to avoid mentioning the presence of Mr. Darcy or her own role in getting lost.

  "It must have been dreadful," Maria breathed. "I should not have been as brave as you, Lizzy." Remembering her near-panic of just an hour earlier, Elizabeth blushed and smiled sheepishly. She glanced again at her Aunt Gardiner. The older woman looked somewhat troubled.

  "And what became of Miss Crenshaw?" she asked. Mr. Bingley immediately rose to his feet, and Mr. Gardiner started to join him. But Elizabeth stayed them with a hand and quickly explained that in her last glimpse of Miss Crenshaw, she saw her with her gentleman friend. They seemed to be looking for her, but Elizabeth somehow lost sight of them.

  "Fortunately, Livy's carriage happened to be waiting very near to Mr. Bingley's townhouse. I had a word with her footman and he went to look for Miss Crenshaw with a lamp."

  "Do you think he will ever find her?" asked Edward. Elizabeth smiled at the boy, hoping to give a reassurance she herself did not feel. "Yes, Edward. I am sure she is safe at home with her Papa even now." Elizabeth's smile quickly faded and Mrs. Gardiner shooed the children from the room. They each kissed their cousins Jane and Elizabeth, then bowed and curtseyed to their other guests. Mr. Gardiner began to engage Mr. Bingley in conversation, and Mr. Bingley in turn drew Jane into the discussion. Fairly soon the two were chatting easily, but Elizabeth could not rejoice. She really had no way of knowing that Olivia was safe. When she last saw Olivia she was speaking with a man in a military uniform. She hadn't seen her since, it suddenly occurred to her-when she later saw the same man with Mr. Darcy later, Olivia was nowhere in sight. She had lied to Olivia's footman and her own family. True, her carriage had left, but for all she knew Olivia could have been found injured or worse...

  A shadow fell over Elizabeth. She looked up; Mrs. Gardiner stood over her speaking in gentle tones. To her left, Mr. Bingley was nodding. He reached over and patted Elizabeth's shoulder. Jane came near and knelt at Elizabeth's knee.

  "Yes, Lizzy," she said softly. "Perhaps you should retire. It has been a very tiring and distressing afternoon." Elizabeth stared at her for a second, and then found herself being raised to her feet by Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth mumbled an apology--she would not be able to recall what she'd said later--and was taken upstairs. It was only when she caught a glimpse of herself as she passed a mirror that she realized that she had been crying.

  Mr. Bingley took Elizabeth's departure as his cue to leave, but Mr. Gardiner wouldn't hear of it. He urged Mr. Bingley to stay for supper, and Mr. Bingley offered little resistance. As Mr. Gardiner and Sir Lucas discussed politics, and Maria buried her head in a book, Mr. Bingley and Jane sat together on the settee as if no time and no malice had ever divided them. A servant brought in a note and handed it to Mr. Gardiner, who asked that it be taken upstairs to its proper recipient.

  • • •

  "There, there, Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner whispered into Elizabeth's hair. "I am sure Olivia will forgive you, just as you will forgive her." She held Elizabeth more tightly as the younger woman continued to sob in her arms. Mrs. Gardiner sighed. The whole affair was too ridiculous, but she doubted that any serious harm had come of it. She extricated herself from Elizabeth's arms and tucked Elizabeth into bed. Mrs. Gardiner turned to leave, then had a thought that made her stop and turn back. She kissed Elizabeth on the forehead.

  "Unless I am greatly mistaken, you and Olivia will be laughing over this adventure at Jane's wedding." Elizabeth managed a weak smile, and Mrs. Gardiner smiled back. When she opened the bedroom door to leave she found a footman standing just outside, poised to knock.

  "This just came for Miss Elizabeth, ma'am," he said with a short bow. Elizabeth sat up and eagerly accepted the note with the Darcy seal.

  • • •

  Mr. Harris had directed Colonel Fitzwilliam to a house two doors away from the Darcy residence, where the younger son of Sir James Spencer had recently arrived for a month-long stay. David Spencer was a physician, and he gladly left his supper to attend to Mr. Darcy. Returning to the townhouse, the Colonel had a servant escort Dr. Spencer to Mr. Darcy's rooms, while the Colonel paused to speak with Mr. Harris at the foot of the stairs.

  "There is reassuring news, sir," said the butler. "Mr. Darcy regained consciousness almost as soon as he reached his chambers. He is complaining of headache, sir, but it does not appear that he is as bad off as we first thought." The Colonel accepted this news gratefully and headed toward the stairs to his cousin's room, nearly bumping into a young maid in the process. He paused when he overheard the maid address Mr. Harris.

  "I took the tea things in to the lady as you asked, sir, and..." The maid paused, looking uneasy.

  "Yes, girl," the butler prodded impatiently.

  "She was crying sir."

  The maid curtseyed and scurried off, and nearly bumped into the Colonel again as he descended the stairs. He strode past the butler to the parlor door. He paused, looked back at Mr. Harris, heaved a sigh, and entered the room. Inside, Olivia sat motionless, her eyes staring at, but not seeing, the fire in the grate. Colonel Fitzwilliam knelt by
her chair, cupped her cheek in his hand and gently turned her face to him. He held her gaze with a smile while he drew a handkerchief from his pocket with his other hand. Dabbing at her tear-stained cheek, the Colonel clucked and said, "Miss Crenshaw, you look a fright." Olivia laughed in spite of herself. She sat up and allowed the Colonel to dry her eyes and to brush back an errant curl or two.

  "How is Mr. Darcy?" she said in a whisper, taking the handkerchief from him. The Colonel reluctantly retreated to a chair opposite Olivia's.

  "The doctor is with him now, but I am sure he is going to be fine," he replied. For a few moments the Colonel just sat and watched Olivia as she fingered the initials on the handkerchief. She seemed to be deep in thought and he was content to just keep her company. Olivia stared at the impeccably embroidered square of fine linen she held in her hands. She felt and suppressed a pang of jealousy, wondering who had done the needlework. The Colonel had two sisters, a mother, and at least two female cousins... She laid the handkerchief across her lap and continued to examine the fagoting around its edge.

  "What is the 'T' for?" she said unexpectedly. The Colonel blinked at the odd question.

  "Your initials--R T F. What does the 'T' stand for?" The Colonel sat back.

  "Thomas."

  "Oh," Olivia replied. A moment later, she was on her feet pacing, the handkerchief in her hand forgotten. "This is all my fault, Colonel! Mr. Darcy would not have been injured if I had not..." The Colonel was on his feet in an instant.

  "You take too much upon yourself, Miss Crenshaw," he said grasping her hands and returning her to her seat. "You are in no way responsible for Darcy's accident, any more than I am. I am afraid he walked into that tree all by himself!" he added, trying again to lighten the mood. But she would not allow herself to be diverted.

  "You do not understand, Colonel," Olivia said softly. The tears began to flow again. Olivia told the Colonel the whole story, from Mr. Bingley and Jane's budding romance in Hertfordshire to Olivia's notion of bringing the star-crossed lovers together again. "You see, I thought if I could just bring them together, well...I...perhaps...well, you understand." She flustered to a stop as the Colonel crossed his arms and shook his head, chuckling softly.

  "So you two thought you would try and rearrange fate." Colonel Fitzwilliam grew serious. "But what has all this to do with Darcy's injury?"

  "You and Mr. Darcy wouldn't have been out searching for Lizzy had it not been for me," Olivia replied. But the Colonel was still ready to absolve her.

  "Perhaps not, but I still insist that Darcy's injury--." At this point, the doctor was shown into the parlor. He stayed only long enough to apprise the couple of Mr. Darcy's condition. Mr. Darcy had sustained a concussion, a mild one--but it was serious enough to warrant a few days' bed rest. Overexertion had caused Mr. Darcy to black out and strenuous activity was to be avoided for the next week at least. As the doctor prepared to leave, he asked the Colonel whether or not Mr. Darcy was married.

  "No," the Colonel replied with an inquisitive look. "He is a bachelor. Why do you ask?"

  "I gave Mr. Darcy something to help him sleep. As he nodded off, I thought I heard him ask for Lily or--." The Colonel's eyebrows shot up.

  "Lizzy?" Olivia offered.

  "Yes, yes, that was it. Yes. He definitely asked if 'Lizzy' had gotten home safely." The doctor bade the surprised pair a good evening and left the room.

  "Well!" said the Colonel. "I take it that this 'Lizzy' that Darcy keeps mentioning is indeed your friend, Miss Brown? I should dearly like to meet this 'Lizzy' of his."

  "Her name is Bennet, Colonel," said Olivia, her misery considerably abated by the doctor's good report. "And if you will call on me tomorrow, you shall." With that she gathered up her reticule and the Colonel escorted her to her carriage.

  Two

  —

  "I have a few errands to run this morning," her aunt replied. "Do you still want to go to the shops today? Perhaps you should rest. We are going to the theatre tonight and you have a long ride ahead of you tomorrow... You still look quite done in, my dear."

  Elizabeth touched her napkin to her lips and carefully placed it on the table. "Actually, Aunt, I would like--I think I should go to see Olivia Crenshaw this morning." Elizabeth bit her lip, contemplating what lay ahead. She knew that she owed Olivia an explanation for her rash behavior the previous day. But she knew not what to tell her. Elizabeth had discovered the previous night that she could not justify her behavior even to herself. She had lain awake for hours trying to figure it out.

  Why had she run away like a frightened child? Elizabeth mulled this question over as she went upstairs to prepare for her outing with the ladies of the house. True, she did not want to speak to Mr. Darcy, but she had never shied away from a confrontation with that man before. Indeed, in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth had on more than one occasion gone out of her way to provoke him. But Elizabeth was not in Hertfordshire. She was here in London, and yesterday she had trod in Mr. Darcy's realm. And she had quailed at the prospect of meeting him on his own ground. Elizabeth despised herself for her cowardice. Surely she wouldn't balk at the chance to do it again

  Elizabeth had to admit that she relished her skirmishes with the arrogant Mr. Darcy. She enjoyed knocking him off his high and mighty pedestal. It made him vulnerable, more human. And Mr. Darcy, it seemed, was not afraid of their battles. He tolerated her assaults far better than Elizabeth ever expected him to. In fact, he seemed to enjoy them as much as she did. Elizabeth pulled on a pair of gloves as she pondered this. Mr. Darcy, indeed, seemed to enjoy arguing with her, except for their last meeting at Netherfield; when the subject of George Wickham came up, Mr. Darcy seemed to lose his sense of humor. The thought of Mr. Wickham quickly brought any and all charitable thoughts of Mr. Darcy to a screeching halt. Elizabeth started down the stairs to join her aunt. She paused on the steps and drew Olivia's note from her reticule. She paid no attention to its contents, which read: I hope this note finds you well and unharmed by your travails. Come to me first thing in the morning. Instead, Elizabeth stared at the Darcy crest embossed on the wax seal. How had Olivia come to be using Mr. Darcy's seal?

  "Come Lizzy! The carriage is waiting!" Maria's voice cut through Elizabeth's agitated imaginings, and she hastened to the carriage where Mrs. Gardiner and Maria awaited her. Elizabeth smiled an apology as the carriage rode away from Gracechurch Street and wondered how her sister was faring after her encounter with Mr. Bingley the previous evening. Before Elizabeth had a chance to reflect on the matter (she cursed herself for being so caught up in her own misery to take much notice of what had transpired between the pair), she was deposited in ______ Street at Miss Crenshaw's door.

  • • •

  "Good morning, Darcy. How are you feeling?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam with characteristic cheerfulness. Mr. Darcy cautiously lifted his head slightly and squinted at his cousin with one eye. After a second, he carefully lowered his head and shut his eyes tightly as the Colonel noisily pulled a chair close to the head of the bed.

  "What are you doing here, Fitzwilliam?" Mr. Darcy asked. He was well aware of what had happened the day before--painfully aware that he had concussed himself while in pursuit of a woman he thought was Elizabeth Bennet. He had been lying awake the past half-hour recalling every memory of that lady. He was now convinced, very nearly, anyway, that he had indeed seen her in the park while he was supposed to be helping Miss Crenshaw search for her friend, Miss Brown.

  "I thought you might need some looking after," the Colonel replied, crossing his legs and leaning closer to observe Mr. Darcy's countenance. "So I availed myself of Aunt Catherine's favorite guest room, a bit of your best port, and made myself quite at home last evening. By the bye, when will my favorite guest room be finished?" he said with a twinkle in his eye. Mr. Darcy smiled, but didn't open his eyes. Colonel Fitzwilliam noticed this and frowned.

  "Are you all right, Darce?" The Colonel asked with genuine concern.

  "I have a bit of headache
and double vision. I can stand the pain, but the sight of two of you is more than I can stomach just now," Mr. Darcy said, still smiling. The Colonel made a show of being greatly offended. He knew that Mr. Darcy wasn't watching, but he got a chuckle out of him nonetheless.

  "Well! I know when I am not appreciated," the Colonel cried in mock indignation. He rose and walked to the door. "I have better things to do today anyway. Not everyone is repelled by the sight of me."

  "Miss Crenshaw?"

  "She asked me to call on her this morning," the Colonel replied, thinking about the promise she had made him the night before. He wondered how his cousin might react if he knew that the Colonel was on his way to meet Elizabeth Bennet.

  "Sounds serious," Mr. Darcy said, somewhat hesitant to pry. The Colonel was drawn back to his seat by the tone of Mr. Darcy's voice.

  "Do you approve?" Mr. Darcy smiled reassuringly.

  "She's a lovely girl, Fitz."

  "That she is. But I haven't any serious designs on her just yet," the Colonel replied, wondering which man he was lying to. He was suddenly glad his cousin's eyes were closed. He didn't feel equal to the scrutiny of the formidable Darcy glare. As if on cue, Mr. Darcy slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times. But rather than fixing his eyes on the Colonel, Mr. Darcy stared at the fabric canopy draped over his head. He seemed to be deeply introspective.

  "She may be the one, Richard. If she is, do not let her get away," Mr. Darcy said in a low voice. The two sat in silence for a time. Colonel Fitzwilliam mulled over his cousin's words but could not bring himself to pursue them. They seemed to the Colonel as much a confession as an admonition. The Colonel eventually rose and took his leave, more curious than ever to meet Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  • • •