A Virtue of Marriage

by Elizabeth Ann West

  Once in the hall, Elizabeth immediately broke from her cousin’s arm to return to the guest chamber she was assigned earlier in the day.

  “Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine called before taking the main staircase back to her parlor.

  Elizabeth turned and curtsied with her head bowed, before rising to look at the old woman. “Yes, Lady Catherine?”

  “We are dining at 7 o’clock sharp. I expect you to take your meal in my dining room, not with my daughter.”

  “Yes, ma’am, as you please.” Elizabeth bowed her head to hide her frown. She had underestimated Lady Catherine's intelligence, as Elizabeth had planned to take her dinner with Anne.

  “Please do what you can with your hair to hide the ghastly mark on your cheek. You shouldn’t display your clumsiness in front of my nephews.”

  Curtsying once more, Elizabeth turned to continue her trek to the beautiful yellow-papered room made up for her disposal and a copy of Shakespeare’s plays on her nightstand. If she could not perform, she would rehearse her lines, as they would certainly be replaying today’s scene after the disaster of Colonel Fitzwilliam falling asleep and Lady Catherine barging in. She looked over her shoulder to see if Mr. Collins was following her, but instead flooded with relief to see her cousin had followed Lady Catherine, with Charlotte in tow, downstairs to tend to more of the madwoman’s whims.

  No more than a few moments passed in the sanctuary of her guest room than she heard a knock at her door. She opened it expecting Harriet, Miss de Bourgh's maid, only to see Mr. Darcy standing before her.

  “Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth immediately dropped into a curtsy.

  “Miss Bennet.” He perfunctory bowed, then stood there in silence.

  “Can I assist you in some way, sir?” Elizabeth’s last words of her question faded away as the man simply stepped into her bedroom and took command of the door handle from her. The impropriety of what they were both tacitly agreeing to do made her thrilled and nervous at the same time.

  “I heard you.”

  Elizabeth took a few steps away from her secretly betrothed to maintain space and calm, then looked at him with her eyebrow arched. “Sir, I did not say a word since entering this room, I assure you.”

  “No, before. With Anne. I heard you.”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together and clasped her hands in front of her. She didn’t know what to say. Was Fitzwilliam angry she sold the candlesticks? Would he find her to be in the wrong as well? Her silence prompted Mr. Darcy to add to his earlier confession.

  “I should not have been listening, truly. It’s just that, your injury, and where you were when we collected you…”

  “Why are you bringing up my embarrassment?”

  “Your embarrassment? YOUR embarrassment? It should be HIS embarrassment!”

  “Please, keep your voice down.”

  Darcy frowned. He took a breath and tugged on his left coat sleeve with his other hand. “I apologize, my temper got the better of me.”

  Elizabeth furrowed her brow for a moment and then looked back at Mr. Darcy. “Have you heard of the Holbein family?”

  Darcy frowned again. “You misunderstand me, Miss Bennet —- wait, what does my driver have to do with this?"

  "Your driver?"

  "Yes, Peter Holbein, his family has been in my family's employ for three generations."

  Elizabeth felt delighted and could not help herself from giddily jumping up and down. "Of course! The uncle! Your driver's brother I believe is a tenant on Mr. Collins’ land. Only Mr. Collins has plans to run them off, because they are practicing Catholics, and the father has a broken back which made small Peter steal eggs . . . "

  "Wait, I don't follow what you mean. Are you saying you sold the candlesticks to provide money for relations of my driver?"

  Elizabeth nodded.

  "But you stole Mr. Collins' property!"

  Elizabeth shook her head, and bit her lip.

  "Elizabeth?"

  "I didn't so much sell the candlesticks as let Charlotte think I did. I had some money from my uncle, enough to satisfy one quarter's rent so the family is no longer in arrears, but if you, sir, could aid me, we could protect the entire Holbein family from eviction. That's what made Mr. Collins angry. When he said he would still evict the family, I could not abide such horrific treatment for those innocent children. They are hungry, Fitzwilliam."

  Elizabeth's words pained Darcy's heart. How could any family be allowed to suffer on his aunt's lands, albeit lands under the parsonage’s control? It was not to be borne! Darcy's mind reeled from the mess Elizabeth laid before him, another complication in his already complicated existence, but he was not cross with her for bringing the problem to him. He only wished she had done so in the first place rather than trying to manage the problem on her own and bearing the violence of that parson in return.

  "Have I angered you, sir?" Elizabeth watched the stormy expressions on her Fitzwilliam's face and her stomach now pained her in response. The turmoil in her heart tumbled relentlessly in her gut.

  Darcy closed the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace. "I was ready to kill him, with my own bare hands. Richard stopped me. Said you were strong."

  "Your cousin is a wise man." Elizabeth giggled as her nose tickled against his shirt. She tried to pull back, but he would not release her.

  "I cannot lose you."

  Time stopped. Elizabeth's heart seized in her chest as she suddenly felt very foolish for antagonizing her cousin. Of course he would fear losing a loved one, she always forgot what little family he possessed.

  "You shall not. You shall not lose me. I promise," she managed, as Darcy gripped her tighter.

  Once satisfied, they shared a few kisses and Elizabeth extracted a resolution from Fitzwilliam that come tomorrow, he would help her with the Holbein family.

  It wasn’t until her door was again safely closed that Elizabeth crumpled to the bed, finally feeling the weight of her life on her slender shoulders. She could smell the lingering scent of Mr. Darcy’s person in the room and exasperated, she grabbed a pillow from her left side and promptly deposited it across her face and groaned. She scolded herself that only heroines in novels suffered such dramatic love trials and at least her forbidden love was only postponed, not ruined forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The carriage stopped in front of Darcy House by mid-afternoon as for once in her life, Caroline Bingley did not tarry for a trip. She had planned her arrival with great cunning and waited in the foyer of one of the largest town homes on the row.

  “Miss Bingley! How long it has been since we have seen you!” George Wickham stumbled out in the hallway from the direction of the kitchen corridor, holding a glass in his hand.

  Caroline sniffed and held her chin high. She was no stranger to the abhorrent flirtations of George Wickham and observed him shunned by the other men enough times to know where her loyalties must lie.

  “I’m here to see Georgiana. I’ve just returned to town.”

  “Ppppssshsh, Georgie is probably upstairs. Crying. In her room.” He haphazardly leaned against the banister as he nearly tumbled to look up above him at the movement coming down. “That’s all she finds time for these days.”

  Georgiana Wickham appeared at the top of the stairs, descending with a slump to her shoulders and red rims around her trademark blue eyes. “Miss Bingley, I am pleased to see you,” she said, with little life to her voice.

  Caroline gave a fake gasp and started up the stairs to meet Georgiana part of the way. “My goodness, you look unwell. Had I known you were doing this poorly… well, I'd have come straight away!”

  Georgiana perked up at the first ray of friendship she had enjoyed since her marriage. “You mean, you only just arrived in London?” She allowed herself to be guided up the stairs by the older woman.

  “Of course! I arrived this week with my brother Charles and dear sister Jane, and I planned to call tomorrow. You sounded so sad in your letter, I just
knew in my heart something was wrong. I had to see that you were fine, and clearly, you are not my dear!”

  They arrived at Georgiana’s bedroom as her maid opened the door for the two women. As Caroline helped her friend to her bed, the young bride looked up at her desperately. “I know it’s last minute, and horribly presumptuous on my part, but could you stay here at Darcy House? It would mean the world to me."

  Caroline Bingley tried not to smile like a cat just capturing a canary and instead looked down as she patted Georgiana’s arm. “If it’s what you want, just say the word and I will stay.”

  This confused Georgiana who wondered if she had made another faux pas, and she began tearing up. “I thought—I mean, I just tried to.”

  Caroline laughed hollowly, trying to change her tone to that of a friendly giggle and not a mean laugh at Georgiana’s lack of social prowess. “Certainly, I will go now and send for my things to be placed in a guest chamber and see about a tray being made up for you? Hmmm? And then you and I can sit and talk all about what’s happened in London while I was banished to some God-forsaken country estate.”

  Before Caroline could leave, Georgiana pushed herself up to speak more loudly. “Was it really all bad?”

  “Truly Georgiana, wait until I tell you about a woman with four daughters to marry off and how she chases every eligible man with her praises for him and her daughters, while waving a handkerchief and complaining about her nerves! And one of the daughters was sent away I hear, for such lewd behavior, even her cousin would not marry her!” Caroline pantomimed a brief impersonation of Mrs. Bennet before exiting the room.

  For just a brief moment, a slight smile played on Georgiana’s lips before she collapsed back against the familiar shape of her pillows. Her nightmares since attending that diner party with her husband would not abate and Georgiana needed the comfort of a friend. Those men had used her so meanly, just thinking of their hands touching her person, her husband watching with a gleam in his eye, Georgiana began to tremble and sob. She could never tell a soul what she did for George. And with Caroline Bingley present, perhaps she would never have to do such debased actions again. Her husband managed to accrue the monies he needed, and though George promised her a life she deserved, she wasn't sure she would survive a life as the wife of George Wickham.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Pandemonium broke out at Hunsford Cottage when word of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s imminent arrival reached the ears of William Collins. Shouting orders at the staff, his wife, and most importantly his wayward cousin Elizabeth Bennet, the sitting room became a flurry of activity just as the wheels of the phaeton rolled to a stop on the main drive just outside the home.

  Elizabeth could not resist rushing to the window to peek out at the grand Dames condescension to visit the lowly parsonage. Her eyes recognized the smiling round face of Mr. Darcy's regular driver, Peter Holbein. She had met the man just that morning when he accompanied her and Fitzwilliam on their visit to the impoverished Holbein family living on the glebe lands her cousin managed. Catching his eye, the driver slowly nodded and slid one finger to the side of his nose.

  Before she could work out a plan to go outside, Mr. Collins was seating Lady Catherine in the sitting room. Elizabeth frowned and took a seat on the far sofa as the Collinses fussed and fretted over the grand lady just as she was accustomed. On this visit, Lady Catherine waved her arms as if to swat a fly and shoo her parson and his wife away from her.

  "There can be no mistake as to why I have deigned to travel here personally and explain why despite the Archbishop of Canterbury's arrival to Rosings this very afternoon, none in this household are invited to dine with us this evening. And the fault lies with no other than this hussy you continue to shelter in your home."

  "Lady Catherine, we are most humble to receive your ladyship on any such occasion. And any offense my cousin has given, I most heartily apologize and beg your forgiveness." Mr. Collins bowed so low before her ladyship that he was very nearly prostrate.

  "It is her very existence that offends!"

  Elizabeth Bennet could not help herself and smiled at the imposing lady, infuriating her more.

  "There! There –" Lady Catherine pointed a long fat finger directly at Elizabeth, "see how she laughs at us? She is guilty I say, guilty of attempting to bewitch my nephews with her arts and allurements. Women of her ilk have a road in London and should not be socializing with families of good standing."

  "Your ladyship is mistaken, perhaps what might be the first time of any such occurrence. I am merely an acquaintance of your nephews, one of them only because he nearly killed me with his horse." Elizabeth slowly exhaled to restore her decorum.

  "I was present in the same county and social gatherings with your nephew Mr. Darcy and my friend, and never was there any sign of impropriety or affection on either party." Charlotte Collins said quietly.

  "Do not speak unless spoken to, Mrs. Collins,” Mr. Collins hissed at his wife in a hoarse whisper.

  "But –" Charlotte began to defend your friend, but elected to stop when her husband glared at her.

  "Regardless of your own estimation of your behavior, as your moral and social superior, I say otherwise. Women of your profession are not suitable for His Grace’s presence. Your utter lack of deference for your betters has barred you from this evening's festivities and any future visits of Rosings. This is my final word on the subject." Lady Catherine rose and nodded pertly at her parson. Unfortunately, the target of her vitriol was far from conceding the match.

  Gazing determinedly out the window, Elizabeth spoke: "I wonder how much weight your word shall have once you are the dowager of Rosings and no longer the mistress?"

  Lady Catherine turned around slowly with her face ever increasing in shades of red. "You would dare to insult a peer?"

  "No your ladyship, I only humbly make the observation your nephew, Mr. Darcy, is set to wed your daughter now the Archbishop has arrived. My cousin has most emphatically championed the blessed event my entire visit. Once that occurs, it will be for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy to determine who shall and shall not visit Rosings."

  "Cousin Elizabeth, I believe you should retire to your room and pack your belongings." Mr. Collins said through clenched teeth.

  "I expressly forbid it!" Lady Catherine called out. Peering at the young upstart, the older woman took great joy in issuing yet another edict. "I desire this trumped up bit of muslin remain in your home until after the wedding. Then she may cry herself all the way back to London and whatever relations will take her in. Once my daughter marries, my nephew will soon tire of your company, mark my words. Men never stay true to their mistresses, because as you get older, their tastes stay young."

  "Then lucky for me I am not the mistress of either of your nephews. And I find it a slander for you to continue to blacken my character, your ladyship." Elizabeth Bennet rose from the couch and pursed her lips. She knew she ought to behave better, but this woman who had everything yet made all around her miserable tried every ounce of her dwindling patience. Momentarily closing her eyes, Elizabeth thought of her Fitzwilliam, remembering that after tomorrow, he would be free.

  "What's that she's doing? Closing her eyes like that, open them I say! Don't trifle with me young lady and then pretend to swoon. I won't have it!"

  Elizabeth sighed and lowered herself into a deep curtsy. Before rising, she made her apologies. "Forgive me, my tongue has ran away with me. I am, as you say, unfit for civilized company. With your permission, Cousin Collins, I shall retire to my room and reflect on what my behavior has cost you in my friend."

  "Yes, yes, I do believe that is best. Come, come, you have vexed her ladyship too much. Forgive us, Lady Catherine, for this evening's continued offenses."

  Elizabeth scurried around her ladyship and passed her cousin to take the stairs as quickly as a lady might. Hopefully, she had done just enough damage to keep Lady Catherine from suspecting the true plans tomorrow, and permitted to retire early, she was certain
to rise with the sun in time for the ceremony. Pulling out bread and a small bottle of wine her maid Anna had smuggled from the kitchens the first time Mr. Collins withheld food from her, Elizabeth found her appetite fleeting with the excitement of a wedding on the horizon.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Longbourn grew dramatically in size in the perceptions of Catherine Bennet as yet another sister was off on a grand adventure, yet she remained home. Just that afternoon, Lydia Bennet, the youngest Bennet sister, was invited as the distinguished guest of Mrs. Foster, the Colonel's wife, to follow the militia to Brighton for the spring and summer drills. Kitty Bennet tried to not take her ire out on the poor watercolor she was making of a vase with wilted flowers when her peace and quiet were disturbed by the only remaining Bennet sister still at home, her older sister Mary.

  “You know Mama shall be cross to see your paint set again. Why must you antagonize her so?”

  The paint set was another gift from the Bennet sister who must not be mentioned, Elizabeth, and arrived as an early Easter gift to the post. Kitty now had half a dozen art pieces for her sister that she planned to bind in a portfolio with her next month's pin money. She didn't dare send her sister anything in return, but still held out hope that one day, the family might heal. Her sentiments directly echoed those of her Aunt Gardiner's.

  “You're doing it wrong. Look at how big your vase is compared to your table. It's too big.” Mary criticized, looking over Kitty's shoulder.

  The statement was too much as Kitty looked down and saw that her sister was right. In a fit, Catherine Bennet seized her artwork and crumpled it to a small ball and threw it at her sister who was now backing away slowly.

  “There, are you happy? You harpy! Why, why can you never mind your own business?”

  “Don't take your frustrations out on me. It is not my fault Lydia was allowed to go to Brighton and you were not invited.”

  “It's not fair! Lizzie is away in London. You got to go to Bath. When will it be MY turn?” Kitty slammed her paint set closed with a flip of her fingers and swished her brush most vigorously to remove all color.