by Jayne Bamber
“Aunt! Are you suggesting he has feelings for me? That I have somehow done something to, to....”
“I am not suggesting anything, just thinking aloud, I suppose. You are not children playing together anymore, Lizzy.”
“I have not been a child in a long time, Aunt.”
“I know. And for that I am sorry – we all are. But it is time to let go of the past and think of the future. It need not be a future with Richard, if you decide against it, but it ought to be a future that brings you fully back into this family. You have been walking about with a dark dreary cloud over your head for years, child, and you must ask yourself if that is how you really want to go on. Or, do you want to open up your heart and let your family back in, and maybe someone to share your life with, too?”
Elizabeth sighed and turned to Charlotte, who quietly nodded her agreement. “Very well,” she sighed. “You are both quite right – as regards the family. I am ready to make more of an effort, and to be happy again.”
***
Fitzwilliam Darcy looked up from his desk as his cousin Richard sauntered into the study. “Imagine my astonishment, Darcy, at finding your mother and sisters were gone off to see Sir Edward and Lizzy, yet you had remained at home, after all of this working my father into a frenzy about being a proper family at Christmas! What are you about, Darcy? You ought to be at Sir Edward’s new house on Upper Brook Street – he bought it just to spite Olivia after she passed, or so the story goes….”
Darcy fixed his cousin with a dark look before turning back to his work and scribbling a few notes down in a journal. Richard only laughed at him. “You make a fine show of it, but I know you are not really doing anything but brooding.” He took a seat across from Darcy, lounging in an idle and indecorous posture. “So, let’s out with it, then.”
“I have no interest in visiting Elizabeth, or hearing of Lady Olivia, either. Indeed, I daresay they are one and the same.”
“You cannot still hold a grudge against your poor sister – she is but a child!”
“She is neither a child, nor my sister, and if Uncle is to be believed, she is soon to be your betrothed.” Richard shrugged and Darcy studied him, hoping his cousin’s nonchalance indicated the match was merely some fancy of the earl’s. “Well?”
“Well what, Darcy? I already know what you are thinking, as always, but this time I think I shall make you say it.”
“Very well then, I shall,” Darcy said, his temper rising. “I think it would be a disaster. She is too much like Olivia, and I should hate to see you end up like Sir Edward in a few years. That woman ruined him, and she ruined Elizabeth Bennet, who shall in turn ruin you. Her foolishness has already hurt Jane and Mother, and I should hate to see you be next. Uncle and I have worked too hard on your behalf, fixing up the estate in Scotland – you might keep it or sell it as you like, but now that we have finally gotten you to leave the army, you might settle down and be happy. I do not think you would be, with Elizabeth.”
Richard folded his arms and glowered at Darcy for a moment, before stalking over to the sideboard and pouring them each a glass of brandy. “Well cousin, have you gotten the stick out of your arse? Are you quite finished?”
Darcy took a drink and stared silently back at him. If Richard wanted to hear more, he would be happy to vent his spleen at length, though he knew it was not wise.
“Good,” Richard snapped. “I left the army because I wanted to, and if I had not wished it myself, none of your carping or my father’s would have accomplished it. As to Lizzy, you have been beastly and you know it. You are far too hard on her, and she does not deserve it. She is a good girl – a fine woman, I should say. You barely even know her, but for her letters to your mother and sisters. You have not seen her these three years, and I can assure you she is quite grown up.”
“You just said she was a child.”
“Damn it, Darcy. Listen, when I came back this summer, she was so different. With Olivia gone... and just to set matters straight, you know, I have always thought Lizzy made Olivia more pleasant, rather than Olivia influencing Lizzy. She has always been mature for her age, even when she really was a child. I have the highest opinion of her, whether she agrees to marry me or not.”
“She would dare to refuse you?” Darcy was relieved to hear it, yet offended on his cousin’s behalf, and disgusted that Elizabeth would be so foolish.
“Father sprang it on her so suddenly – I do not blame her for being dismayed. Perhaps she was only embarrassed. At any rate, her uncle has put by some money for her dowry – rather more than he will bestow on Jane or Mary, and it would be a prudent match. Beyond that, I happen to care for her a great deal, and I enjoy her company. This makes her a far better choice than any of the other names on the list my father has made, and I think she shall be saying the same of me, ere long. And,” Richard said with a laugh, “I have seen your list, too – poor man!”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Uncle Henry is not my father. I am not of a mind to marry at present – that is by no means what has brought me to London.”
“What, then? You were most keen to be here.”
“As I told your father, I have made the arrangements to come to London for my mother’s sake, and for my two sisters. Pemberley has been a dreary place since father died, and it pains me to see it. I have not the talent for cheering them, though God knows I have tried. I would keep them with me always, and far from Elizabeth and even from Sir Edward, but I fear nothing short of a complete reunion will make them happy again. At any rate, it is time Jane and Mary had a proper Season.”
“You and Father are in agreement about that.”
“Perhaps, but in their case, I think Mother and I ought to have the final say in whatever list our uncle has taken it upon himself to compile for them. I will not see them wed without anything but the deepest love and mutual respect.”
“That is awfully sentimental talk from you, Darcy. And if I were to tell you I was most ardently in love with Elizabeth Bennet?”
Darcy tried not to let his lip curl with disdain. “Are you?”
“I might be – I think I could be, in time.”
Darcy gave his cousin a sardonic look. “And here I had hoped you might save me from Cousin Anne.”
“Ha! Never. I was rather surprised hers was not the only name on your list.”
“Even Aunt Catherine has given up on the idea, after all these years. As I said, I have no mind for matrimony at present – I shall have my hands quite full looking after Jane and Mary.”
“You are a diligent brother, I shall give you that. After this sad business with Wickham, vile fellow that he was, I do hope Cousin Jane might find some happiness.”
“As to that, I am thinking of speaking to Uncle about a name to add to her list.”
Richard raised his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise. “Playing at matchmaker? That is not like you.”
“No, I suppose not. I am not playing at matchmaker precisely. It is only a little notion that occurred to me – you remember Charles Bingley.”
“He and his sister do leave a lasting impression, different though they are. I daresay we shall be seeing a lot of her when she finds out John is available again.”
“We shall be seeing a lot of Bingley too, I hope. He wrote recently – he has been inquiring about estates to let, perhaps even purchase, and hopes I might assist him in finding one, and in getting the feel for estate management. I think he might be of a mind to settle down soon.”
“And you think a lively fellow is just the thing to help Jane forget about Wickham?”
Darcy shook his head, trying not to let old resentment get the better of him. “He never deserved her in the first place.”
“You are damned right about that. I suppose it is well enough he died at sea, before she had the chance to find out what he was really like.”
Darcy regarded his cousin evenly; he had dreaded his cousin ever guessing his secret, and hoped this would not be the day he must be fully honest
with Richard. “I am sorry it pained Jane, sorry it took so long for me to look after her interest as a brother should, but yes, it was for the best.”
Richard eyed him curiously. “I wonder if such a thought crossed your mind when you suggested a naval career instead of the church?”
Darcy went rigid. “I take no pleasure in Jane’s pain. Her grief has been considerable.”
Richard continued his probing look a moment longer, then clucked his tongue at Darcy and stood up, making a great show of checking his watch. “Well, Darcy, I think I shall be off. I might catch your mother and sisters at Upper Brook Street if I head there now. Shall I give Lizzy and Uncle Edward your regards?”
Darcy glowered at him and said nothing as his cousin sauntered away, as cheerfully defiant as he had been when he came in.
***
Elizabeth paced in front of the drawing room windows for a quarter-hour, the anticipation almost too much for her, but at length the Darcy carriage could be seen coming to a stop in front of her uncle’s grand new house in Upper Brook Street. He had intended to be with her for this first meeting, and she knew he was as eager to meet with them as she was, but a message had arrived not ten minutes earlier from one of his warehouses, and his presence was urgently needed there.
Instead, Rose sat with Elizabeth in the parlor, doing her best to allay some of Elizabeth’s anxiety. Well, perhaps it was not her best. “I hear William is grown tall and handsome – I cannot wait to set eyes on him.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “He has always been tall, and – Rose, that is not helpful.”
“Well! What shall I say? It is sure to be awkward, but they are here now and it will be over soon.”
Elizabeth groaned and seated herself on a chaise, positioning herself so that it would not be so obvious if nobody chose to sit beside her. Rose reclined merrily on the sofa, fidgeting with her bracelets. Elizabeth knew not which had been worse for her spirits, her uncle’s sober silence until he had been called away, or Rose’s unyielding exuberance. She was right, at least – it would be over soon.
She heard the sound of their visitors removing their coats in the foyer, and in another moment the three women stepped quietly into the room. Elizabeth felt her heart pounding as she looked upon her Mamma – the only mother she had ever really known, and though she rose to greet them, her feet were rooted in place as she held Lady Anne’s gaze. It broke her heart to see so much sadness in her mother’s eyes.
Rose was the first to fill the heavy silence with her own effusive greetings, and Elizabeth shook herself out of her reverie to call for tea before she finally came forward to greet her guests. Mary quickly embraced Elizabeth, burying her face in Elizabeth’s shoulder as she whispered, “Just be yourself, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth held Mary close for a moment longer before releasing her, and by the time Mary drew away, Elizabeth’s tears had begun to fall. Mary caught her by the hand and led Elizabeth forward, toward their mother, and with each step she took, Elizabeth lost more of her composure, until at last she was weeping.
Her mother stepped forward, closing the last space between them, and cupped Elizabeth’s face in her hands. “Oh, my dearest girl, I have pictured your dear face in my mind every day, I am sure.” She gently ran her soft fingers across Elizabeth’s cheeks and said, “I hope these are happy tears, my love.”
Unable to speak, Elizabeth raised her fingers and hesitantly placed them atop her mother’s, holding her mother’s hands against her face as she wept. “Oh, Mamma, I am so sorry.”
Her mother embraced her, slowly rocking as she stroked Elizabeth’s back. “We are together, at last, my dear girl. All shall be well. Your Uncle Henry has commanded it,” she teased.
“And so it must come to pass,” Elizabeth laughed, savoring the feel of her mother’s soothing touch. “You smell... so wonderful. I forgot... I forgot how much....”
“Hush, dearest. I love you too.”
Elizabeth shed the last of her tears and pulled away, wiping her face with a sardonic smile. “Am I not in very fine looks, Mamma?”
“You always are, in my book.” Her mother gave her a reassuring pat on the arm, and then reached up to stoke Elizabeth’s hair, which hung just past her shoulders when loose. “You let your hair grow out,” she said with a smile. “I am so pleased.”
“Now it is Rose’s turn to vex my uncles,” Elizabeth said, mustering a playful smirk. She gestured to Rose, who had recently gotten the same short haircut that Elizabeth herself had sported the previous year.
Lady Anne shook her head with bemusement. “It is very fetching, I am sure, as was yours, Lizzy, in that sketch Miss Rose made of you last winter. Still, I am old-fashioned, and prefer more elegant arrangements. I suppose I must be like my own mother, and begin to keep smelling salts in constant supply.”
The tea service arrived, and Rose quickly offered to serve, nearly pushing Elizabeth toward Jane, who had yet to speak. Elizabeth glanced nervously at Jane. “Sister….”
Jane stared at the carpet, wringing her hands for a minute before finally meeting Elizabeth’s eyes with – was that hope? Elizabeth stared back at her, too anxious to speak. “I must have tried to write a hundred times.”
Elizabeth continued to stare back at her, still too overcome with emotion to speak sensibly. “Me too.”
“I hope... I hope we shall be friends again, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth took Jane’s hand as they sat together on the sofa. “I want to, very much. It would make me so happy.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane sighed. “It feels so long since anyone has really been happy, does it not?”
Elizabeth held her sister’s gaze and whispered, “Do you blame me for that?”
“I wanted to you. For years, it was easier. And you did not come back, after Papa died.”
“I did come back. We stayed a month.”
“I mean – we wanted you to come back. When you did not stay, it was easier to be angry with you than to feel anything else, and losing poor George only compounded it for me,” Jane said softly. “Several times over these three years it occurred to me that I could finally understand what you must have felt all those years ago when you went away; at times I felt as though it were my fault George went away to sea, and was drowned.”
“Why did you not tell me that?” Elizabeth pressed Jane’s hand in her own, grateful for Rose’s determination to keep Mary and Lady Anne occupied in conversation, affording Elizabeth and Jane some privacy.
“It was too hard, too humiliating to admit my own error in judgement, and there was too much to keep old resentments alive. And there was always so much talk about Aunt Olivia; I feared it was true that you had grown rather too like her.”
“Aunt Olivia was – we all know what she was, myself more than you, perhaps, but I saw past it, you know. Even Uncle Edward did, at times. Rose does not know the truth, not any of it,” she said, dropping her voice even lower. “Better that we remember the years that were good, for her sake. In truth, I have learned a great deal about emulating that which I admired about her, and understanding the difference between those traits – her wit, her vivacity – and her… other characteristics. I hope I am not like her in some respects, though I suppose I can guess who might have led you to draw such conclusions.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane sighed again, fighting back tears of her own. “Our brother is… you do not know him as Mary and I do. After you went away, he became so very attentive to us. He is protective, and loving, and though he has not quite the talent for it, he has tried to cheer us, to bring some happiness to Pemberley. William is….”
Jane was interrupted; she had caught Rose’s attention. “Oh, yes! Where is Cousin William, Aunt?”
Elizabeth looked over at her mother, who smiled weakly. “William is at home – that is, he had some urgent business to attend to. He has been such a diligent master of Pemberley since... these last three years. I believe he had a letter from his steward.”
Elizabeth turned to glance at Mar
y, who nodded sadly. She knew very well why William had not come. “I suppose it does not matter,” she whispered to Jane. “It is you three that I wished to see. I suppose he has done me a favor in staying away.”
Jane looked stricken. “Oh Lizzy, I wish you knew him as I do.”
Elizabeth scowled and turned her face away. She was relieved at William’s absence, almost happy at having all the triumph of being the slighted party, rather than all the discomfort of having to face him.
Lady Anne likewise observed Sir Edward’s absence, and Elizabeth was horrified to think that it might be attributed to the same reasons as William’s, that her mother and sisters might draw such awful conclusions. “He wished very much to be here,” she stammered. “He was waiting with us, in fact, when he was called away to his warehouse on some urgent business of his own. It is a pity we do not still live so near, on Gracechurch Street, else I am sure he would be returning to us any minute.”
Her mother was all politeness, expressing a hope that Sir Edward would soon return. They heard footsteps in the hall twenty minutes later, and Lady Anne looked toward the doorway with a face full of hope, though it was not Sir Edward but Richard who had to come to save them from a conversation that was, despite Mary’s best efforts, inevitably awkward.
His face lit up as he paused in the doorway, and he beamed at Elizabeth, who sat happily ensconced on the sofa between her two sisters. “Cousin Richard! I had not expected to see you today. How is Charlotte?”
“Beset with suitors – Viscount Milton and Mr. Harper have come to call and Phyllis has quite cast me out of the house, lest I make a nuisance of myself, as I am wont to do.”
“Well, I am glad you have come here to be a nuisance,” Elizabeth replied, teasing him as was her custom, until she suddenly recollected herself. There had been no further conversation, as far as Elizabeth was aware, regarding Uncle Henry’s hopes for a match between her and Richard, but she had no doubt the matter would be revisited. She reminded herself that she ought to take a less familiar tone with him until she had made up her mind about the idea, lest she encourage him too soon. She invited him to sit, and after a moment of glancing about for a seat, and then drinking in the sight of Jane, who was looking every bit the prettiest of the three sisters, as ever, Richard sat between Elizabeth and Jane.