by Meg Osborne
She twinkled at her sister, and Jane eyed her warily, not entirely certain whether her sister was teasing or telling the truth. One moment more, and Elizabeth could keep a straight face no longer. She collapsed in a fit of giggles and dodged as Jane tossed the errant cushion back in her direction. At that moment the door opened and Mr Collins strode in, freezing when he noticed the sisters, who straightened and did their best to swallow their laughter.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, with a nod. “And Miss Elizabeth. Forgive me.” He held their gazes for half a moment, before bowing low, and sweeping out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a glance, before dissolving once more into laughter.
Chapter Eight
“I shall not be away long,” Darcy said, as he folded his letter and set it down beside his plate.
“What a pity that you must be away at all!” Caroline lamented, with a none-too-subtle glance towards her brother. She need not say any more for her meaning to be entirely clear to Darcy. How can you leave us at a time like this? Darcy knew the timing was not the best, but what could be done? There was a problem in London that needed his immediate attention, and as such he must see to its solution.
“I am sure you will scarcely notice I am gone!” he said, returning to his breakfast. “After all, is not the assembly in a day or so? That will provide ample distraction. And without an additional guest, Miss Bingley, you might dance with all the gentlemen of Hertfordshire should you wish to.”
Caroline pouted, and Darcy knew that his absence at the assembly accounted for at least half of her disappointment. She had looked very much forward to arriving at the Meryton assembly on Mr Darcy's arm and had doubtless schemed to secure him for several dancers all to herself. He kept his features impassive, but could not help internally rejoicing that Fletcher’s problem had at least provided him with an escape from that particular evening’s entertainments.
“It is not merely for myself I am concerned,” Caroline continued. “My poor brother!”
“Poor nothing!” Bingley said, cheerfully. “Darcy said himself he shall not be gone long. Honestly, Caroline, you act as if I am utterly incapable of comporting myself without my friend here to remind me when to bow and how to be agreeable in society.”
Caroline’s features hardened into a frown. It was not Bingley’s manners that concerned her, rather his propensity to be too agreeable, and towards one lady in particular. Darcy said nothing. His own opinion of Jane Bennet, and her sister, was in flux, and that was as second reason why he rejoiced in the chance to return to London, however fleetingly he might be there. He wished to determine for himself that he was correct in his first assessment of Elizabeth Bennet. Meeting her had shaken his resolve, and seeing her sister interact with Bingley had further worn him down. They were a happy couple. She was perhaps a little less equal to Charles in terms of wealth, but it ought not to be remarked upon. She was pretty and kind, and quite amiable enough that he could foresee them being happy together. Caroline’s assertion that she cared only for Charles’ money, Darcy had abandoned on first observing the pair together. There had been a light to Jane Bennet’s eyes that occurred whenever Charles spoke, and he ventured to presume, though he was by no means an expert in the manners of ladies, that she was quite in love with him. If only he could ascertain that her sister was not the hoyden he had heard of, he might relax further. Somehow it was now incredibly important to him, not only that Elizabeth Bennet would not lead her sister - and thus his friend - into disrepute, but that she, herself, was not so dreadful as he first assumed. His friends the Huntingtons would surely help him get to the bottom of it, for they despised false gossip almost as much as Darcy did, albeit for different reasons. With a sigh, he recalled the dreadful things that might have been whispered about Georgiana, had her dalliance with George Wickham ever become common knowledge. He thanked providence he had managed to conceal it, and wondered whether Elizabeth simply shared her fate, in which case she was to be pitied, and helped, if at all possible.
“I am intrigued to meet this cousin that is staying with the Bennets just presently,” Caroline observed, with a superior glance at both gentlemen. “I hear tell he is looking to marry one of them, and can’t help but imagine they will be eager to oblige. There are not so many alternatives for five sisters with no prospects.”
“No prospects?” Charles queried. “That is a little unkind, Caroline. They are our friends. Mr Bennet is a gentleman, and his daughters are all simply delightful.”
Caroline made no comment, but her arched eyebrow was answer enough. Darcy kept his attention fixed on his plate, little wishing to be pulled into yet another sibling spat. He thought fondly of Georgiana, who would never speak to him with such indignance as Caroline addressed her brother. It annoyed him that his friend’s sunny disposition was so often taken for foolishness by the rest of his family. Charles could be gullible, and often needed guidance, but he appeared to lack the cynicism that was rampant in both of his sisters, and many of Darcy’s other friends. He would resolve the situation in London and seek to return as soon as possible, for he liked his friend and was keen to spend more time with him. He might even see about fetching Georgiana down to Hertfordshire for a visit, if he could manage it in such a way that would give Caroline no encouragement in her continued interference in his own life. He had a sudden impression of his sister walking with Elizabeth Bennet, and thought what a good influence Elizabeth would be to his sister, bearing up in spite of gossip, and confident enough to hold her own even amidst her noisy family. He blinked, and shook his head in disbelief. Hertfordshire must have bewitched him to have him so entirely change his stance in a few short days. When he came here, he was adamant he would have nothing to do with Elizabeth Bennet, certain that she existed only to plague his friend, and would influence him to marry her sister and thus ruin his future. Now, after but a few interactions, he was giving her the benefit of the doubt that the rumours he had heard of her were even true, and worse still, excusing them in the instance they might be! It was madness. Some normalcy will set my mind to rights, he counselled himself, making a mental note to visit every one of his old haunts in London. The house, first, to settle Fletcher's nerves and resolve his concerns, then his club. Perhaps he would seek to dine with the Huntingtons, who were the only couple in town he would dare to trust with his thoughts. If he confessed to meeting Elizabeth Bennet and finding her entirely unlike reports led him to expect, that should surely be enough to gain their counsel. He need not expand further on his own interest in her or his concerns on Bingley's behalf of marrying into such a family. I must discover the truth, I cannot trust my own feelings in either direction.
***
“Elizabeth! Oh, my dear, how wonderful to see you!”
Mrs Gardiner stood and swept her niece into an embrace almost before Elizabeth had even crossed the threshold of their London home.
“We did not expect to see you yet for another few months!” Mr Gardiner said, cheerfully, as her aunt released her. “And then, in Hertfordshire. What brings you so eagerly to visit us here?”
Mrs Gardiner shot her husband a quelling look, and led Elizabeth over to a sofa and sitting down beside her. She held one of Elizabeth’s hands in both of hers, and patted it warmly.
“Is everything alright dear? Your mother’s note did not say much, but there was some allusion to a disagreement...” She trailed off, eager to be informed but equally eager not be seen as pressing.
“It was a misunderstanding,” Elizabeth said, with a brief smile. “Involving our cousin, Mr Collins.”
“Ah, wanted to marry you did he?” Mr Gardiner remarked, with a grin. At Elizabeth’s and Mrs Gardiner’s twin glares, his smile faltered. “Oh. Oh dear! Really? Well, my dear, in that case, I entirely understand your wanting to spend some time away.” He stood, walking hurriedly towards the door and muttering something about fetching refreshments for the recently arrived traveller.
“You must f
orgive your uncle,” Mrs Gardiner said, with a warm smile. “He did not mean to put his foot in it.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “It is one of his many talents!”
Elizabeth laughed, too, glad that neither her aunt nor uncle seemed intent on pressing her for more information about Mr Collins or, as her mother had been, to lament over her refusing him. Mrs Bennet had scarcely spoken to Elizabeth in the day between Mr Collins failed proposal and Elizabeth’s escape to London, and between her mother’s silence, Mr Collins’ unintentionally amusing attempts to remain dignified, and the gossip of her younger sisters, Elizabeth was altogether glad to be amongst normal, friendly people once more. She only lamented not being able to bring Jane with her. Although, upon reflection, she thought it fortunate that Jane stayed where she was, for the Meryton assembly would be upon them and Jane would be sure to secure at least one dance with Mr Bingley. She had made her sister promise to write in exquisite detail of everything that passed that evening, so that Elizabeth might relive it in her mind, if she could not be there in body.
“Now, my dear,” Mrs Gardiner began. “I am sure you have many ideas of things you would like to do during your stay in London, but remember you will be here for some time yet and need not do everything all at once. Indeed, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish - you might return to Hertfordshire with us at Christmas, if you choose!”
“You are very kind,” Elizabeth said, with a smile. “I confess I have not decided yet, although I certainly do not wish to burden you by staying so many weeks!”
“Pshaw! You could never be a burden to us, Lizzy dear.” Her aunt pulled her close in a quick embrace. “Although I rather think, once the children have their way at engaging you in their various games and schemes, you might be running back to the quiet of Longbourn a little sooner than you plan!”
“Quiet? Longbourn?” Elizabeth laughed. “My dear Aunt Gardiner, I rather think you forget two of your nieces can make enough noise to easily match every other person in the house.”
“Oh, yes, Kitty and Lydia!” Mrs Gardiner beamed. “Do, tell me everything about your sisters, how are they? Does Jane have a beau? And you -” She hesitated. “Well, I certainly do not mean to revisit difficult topics.” She patted Elizabeth once more on the hand. “I am sure the right man will come along at last, and am only too glad you realised Mr Collins was not him before you reached the altar.” She clucked her tongue. “Too often women end up marrying quickly only to repent at their leisure over the choices they have made. Better to make the right choice in the beginning, I wager.”
The door opened and a servant entered with a tea tray and Mr Gardiner’s compliments. He had apparently been distracted by some “pressing matter of business” which his wife assured Elizabeth more accurately meant he had chosen to take brandy in the study and would see the ladies that evening at supper.
After their tea was consumed, and current news about various family members exchanged, Mrs Gardiner suggested they take a walk, which Elizabeth was only too eager to agree with, after spending much of the morning cramped in a carriage, and then sitting in her aunt’s parlour. She could not wait to get some exercise, and to see some of the London spaces she had not visited for some months.
Her aunt took great delight in pointing out certain points of interest, introducing Elizabeth to the names of their friends and neighbours and hoping they might have opportunity to meet in person while Elizabeth was staying with them. They walked quite a distance, towards homes that grew increasingly elegant and expensive, and Elizabeth glanced around her at the well-dressed men and women milling about on the street. Certainly, London was far more fashionable than Hertfordshire.
“Oh, Mrs Huntington, good afternoon!” Mrs Gardiner smiled, and drew Elizabeth’s attention to a warm-looking woman who had just at that moment happened to pass them in the street. “Please, do let me introduce you to my dear niece who is staying with us for a little while. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth turned, eager to make the acquaintance of anybody her aunt was so evidently fond of, but she saw the smile freeze on the young woman’s face as her eyes locked with Elizabeth. She tilted her head to one side, as if she did not quite understand what she heard.
“I’m sorry, did you say your name was Elizabeth Bennet?”
“That’s right,” Elizabeth said, with a smile. “And you are Mrs Huntington?”
Her aunt’s friend shook her head, frowning fiercely.
“No. That is, yes, I am Mrs Amelia Huntington, but you cannot possibly be Elizabeth Bennet.”
Mrs Gardiner laughed, nervously, suspecting some joke that she was not privy to.
“I assure you she can, and is!” she said. “I have known her half my life. Perhaps you are confusing her with somebody else.”
“Yes, I have it on some - some authority that there is an Elizabeth Bennet in London who lives rather a more interesting life than I do.” Elizabeth curtseyed. “I assure you I am not she, or rather, she is not me. How funny that fate appears to have engineered us both to be in the same place at once.”
“Indeed,” Mrs Huntington said, hesitating a moment more before thrusting her hand forward to take Elizabeth’s. “In that case, my dear, I am most dreadfully sorry! And I must warn you, I may well not be the only one to make such a mistake.” She glanced penitently at Mrs Gardiner. “You must allow me to apologise, and -” She hesitated, debating something before reaching a conclusion and nodding in the affirmative. “Yes, I must invite you both - and Mr Gardiner too, of course - to please dine with my husband and me tomorrow evening.” She turned a radiant smile toward Elizabeth. “For I certainly wish to know rather more of this Elizabeth Bennet, and if you are newly arrived in London, my dear, I fancy you might like to meet a few people who will know you for yourself, and not for your name, or rather the reputation attached to your name.”
She clutched Elizabeth’s hand tightly, before seeing another acquaintance and hurrying after them, with a wave.
“Well!” Mrs Gardiner tutted. “How very peculiar! Elizabeth, dear, what on earth was she talking about? Do you have any idea?”
“I am rather afraid I do, Aunt...” Elizabeth said, with a sigh. They began to walk once more and Lizzy relayed something of her conversations to date with Mr Darcy - omitting his name and referring to him only as “a gentleman from London”, lest her aunt have any flash of recognition of her own.
“It must be a mistake, surely!” Mrs Gardiner said.
“It is not impossible to imagine there are two people with the same name,” Elizabeth said. “London is a fairly big place, after all. And I suppose it is rather amusing, to think of...”
“Not if that young lady is behaving poorly and leaving your reputation all the worse for it.”
“Perhaps I should be more careful about the way I introduce myself in future,” Elizabeth said, her eyes sparkling. “I could be Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Or the other Elizabeth Bennet. Or perhaps I ought to change my name altogether.”
Her aunt harrumphed, not entirely amused by her niece’s cavalier attitude.
“I am sure everything will settle down now. Mrs Huntington will see to it that people realise there is more than one of us, and who knows who she might invite to tomorrow’s dinner. Do not fret, Aunt. It will all resolve itself.”
Her own confidence did not match her bravado, though, and she rather wished she had stayed in Hertfordshire. Even Mr Collins would be easier to bear than the entirety of London society already predisposed to dislike her!
Chapter Nine
Darcy arrived promptly at the Huntington’s house in the evening. He was not entirely unsurprised to find himself invited to a meal with his friends, upon their hearing of his brief return to London. He was surprised to find he was not the only guest Mr and Mrs Huntington had invited to dine that evening.
“Mr Darcy, how wonderful to see you again!” Amelia said, greeting him warmly.
“Indeed, we did not expect to see you this side of Christmas!”
Thomas said. “But we are very glad to do so,” he clarified, following a critical glance from his wife.
“There was a problem with my London property,” Darcy confessed. “One I could not resolve by letter, and as London is but a few hours’ travel from Hertfordshire it seemed wise just to come in person. It also affords me the chance to reconnect with old friends and take advantage of their hospitality.” He nodded, gratefully, towards Mrs Huntington.
“Nonsense! What fun is it to dine alone?”
Darcy did not answer, fearing his own opinion and his friend’s wife varied over this particular point. Nonetheless when he recalled the silent, cavernous interior of his own town house which he had left behind him that evening, he could not help but own that the warm fire and companionable chatter of the Huntington’s front parlour would be somewhat preferable, even if, by way of payment, he was forced to make polite conversation with a few others beyond his chosen friends.
“Come, you must meet our other guests!” Amelia Huntington led him through to the sitting room, which was already populated with half a dozen couples, milling around and making conversation. Darcy was in nodding contact with several of them and exchanged pleasantries and vague greetings with a handful as he passed. “It is mostly our usual crowd, but I do not believe that you are yet acquainted with the Gardiners, from Gracechurch Street?”
Darcy's lips quirked. He had little enough cause to go to that end of town and did not seek out acquaintances of a lower class. Still, if they were valued enough by the Huntington's to be dinner guests, they must have some goodness of character or history to recommend them.
“I have not had the pleasure.”
“They have a niece of theirs staying, who I was eager to placate after I made a mistake in meeting the poor young lady. I quite put my foot in it! Do you know, her name is familiar to us both, for we have spoken of her more than once - that is, not her, you understand, for this is quite another, although they share a name.”