A Sister's Curse

by Jayne Bamber

  Her mother looked at her, understanding. “Yes, my dear. I am your mother, and there is nothing in this world I would not do for you.”

  ***

  After Caroline Bingley had been divested of her finery, prepared for bed, and sent her maid away, she crept down the hall and knocked softly on her stepmother’s bedroom door. “Come in,” came the feeble answer.

  Her stepmother, a woman in her late thirties, still quite beautiful if a little pale, sat propped up against a great mountain of pillows. “Good evening, Mother. I wanted to look in on you before I retire. I hope you are feeling better.”

  Mrs. Bingley nodded. “I am well enough now you are come home, my dear.” She patted the space beside her on the bed. “Come and sit with me, dear. I hope you had a fine time at the ball.”

  “It was so beautiful, Mamma – the earl’s home is simply spectacular, and the ball was such a crush. Everyone was in very fine looks.”

  “You most of all, I daresay, my dear.”

  “Oh – I do not know about that. Miss Darcy and her sisters all looked very beautiful. I hear their uncle means to marry them all off this Season, and I am sure they must have had suitors falling at their feet after tonight.”

  Mrs. Bingley smiled. “Which of them does your brother fancy? I know he cannot resist a pretty face. Miss Bennet perhaps, or even Miss Gardiner?”

  “Miss Gardiner is their cousin, I believe. She was not in attendance tonight; she will not be out until next year.”

  “I see.”

  “I believe Charles danced twice with Jane Darcy, and I am very happy.”

  “I had heard him speak of Miss Bennet when first we arrived in Town, but I suppose she has already been thrown over in favor of Miss Darcy. Ah, well, that is good, too; and he may yet change his mind again.”

  “I should not think so. Miss Bennet, I understand, is rather less refined in her graces. But Jane, you know, is a dear, sweet girl. It is very sad that she should have such an unfortunate sister.”

  “Ah, well, I should like to meet her anyhow – she sounds a most interesting creature. And though you have been friends these many years with Miss Darcy, I have yet to set eyes upon her. It is a pity she could not come to us in Scarborough, after that beau of hers died.”

  “Oh, Mamma, I wish you could have been there to meet her.” Her mother coughed. “Can I get you anything? Some water perhaps?”

  “I am feeling much better, child. I am sure I shall meet with them all very soon. Now, tell me of your partners – was the viscount among them?”

  Omitting their romantic interlude on the balcony, she said only, “He was – we danced twice, as well. Oh, Mamma, he is still so very handsome, just as he was the summer I met him.”

  “I hope you behaved yourself, child – you must contain your enthusiasm, for a languid ennui is much more the fashion now.”

  “I did my best, as you have taught me, but I like him so much, Mamma.”

  Mrs. Bingley smiled widely. “If Charles is already besotted with the viscount’s cousin, that bodes well for you, my dear. One alliance between our families may lead to another.”

  “I do hope so. I should like nothing better.”

  “Nor I, my dear,” Mrs. Bingley said, patting her daughter’s hand with a wistful smile. “Nor I.”

  12

  As was his custom, Darcy woke early the next morning and took his horse out for a ride in Hyde Park. And, as was not uncommon for the master of Pemberley, he had quite a lot on his mind. He had struggled to find sleep, fighting every hour to push the starling from his mind. There was something about her that had captivated him in a way he could not fully understand, as if her vulnerability and manner of confiding in him had somehow bound them together. Seeing Richard kiss her had been like a knife through his chest, which even the starling’s adverse reaction could little assuage. He had never felt – never known it was possible to feel – so much, so quickly, and he could not get her words to him out of his mind. ‘I can’t get out, I can’t get out.’

  He felt protective, even possessive over her, and whatever distress had led her to speak to him as she had, his starling was in some sort of trouble, and it filled Darcy with dread to think that Richard might be involved in it. Moreover, Richard’s involvement with the starling, whatever it may be, was likely Darcy’s own doing – he had pressed Richard to abandon his pursuit of Elizabeth, practically pushing him into the arms of the woman who had awakened these sensations within him.

  And he had run like a coward. He had regretted his weakness the minute he departed Matlock House, trying to account for why he had not acted differently, why he had not pursued her, or confronted Richard. And yet, would it be worth it to pursue her at the risk of causing a rift between himself and his favorite cousin? The idea had seemed insupportable at the time, but now he wondered.

  And then there was Elizabeth. Darcy sighed. His problems were many, but somehow she seemed to be at the root of them all. He knew he must prepare himself to speak to his mother about her wish to ask Elizabeth to reside with them. He would have preferred to learn of the plan from Lady Anne directly; hearing of it from Richard, at such a moment, had been mortifying in the extreme.

  And how could he allow such a hoyden to come and live under his roof? He knew his mother loved Elizabeth, and Jane and Mary were fond of her, but he believed they were blind in their affection, and had been ever since Elizabeth fell under Lady Olivia’s influence. That lady had been a royal mistress, an adulteress, and a silver-tongued harpy; it was impossible for Elizabeth not to have learned her wicked ways in seven years.

  Given what the little chit had dared to say about him in a room full of people, he feared her influence on their sisters. He would not allow her insolence to wound the girls, nor risk their learning some of it themselves. And yet, he loved his mother dearly. She was the finest woman he knew, and had suffered a vast deal. Losing his father had changed her. Even losing Elizabeth all those years ago had wounded her, and causing the deaths of the Bennets haunted her still.

  Their first night in London, the nightmares had returned. His mother had never spoken to him of it, but the servants talked, and Mrs. Reynolds had confided in him years ago that his mother still occasionally had horrific dreams of the carriage accident, even after all these years. He had brought his loyal housekeeper to London with them, for she, too, had been there that fateful day, and had made him a solemn, secret promise to attend his mother personally whenever the nightmares seized her.

  Since Christmas, there had been no recurrence, and he was begrudgingly obliged to admit that seeing Elizabeth had done his mother tremendous good. How could he refuse what would give her such comfort?

  Perhaps Richard was right. For his mother’s sake, he must make the effort to reconcile with Elizabeth. He might never like her, nor truly esteem her as he did Jane and Mary, but he would be civil and courteous and welcome her into his home. Perhaps it would do her some good, as well, as she would have three daily examples of female perfection around her.

  He found such feminine grace waiting for him when he returned an hour later, his head barely clearer than when he had gone out. Jane was in the breakfast room, though their mother and sister Mary were still abed.

  “Good morning, Brother.”

  “Good morning, Jane. I trust you slept well?”

  “Oh, eventually. I stayed up rather later than I had meant – that is, there was so much to think about. So much that happened.”

  He fixed himself a plate at the sideboard and then sat down at the table across from his sister. “Good things, I hope? You appeared to enjoy yourself.”

  Jane gave him one of her characteristic gentle smiles. “I did, more than I expected to. Some of the partners recommended to me by Uncle Henry were, as Elizabeth said, rather odious, but then Cousin Richard and our new cousin Mr. Collins were so very pleasant – and Mr. Bingley too, of course.”

  “He is quite taken with you, I think.”

  Jane blushed prettily and pu
shed the food around her plate with a fork. “I shall have to accustom myself to such things.”

  “Jane,” he said, reaching his hand across the table. “There is something I would ask you. You do not feel that you are in a cage, do you? That you are trapped, and cannot get out?”

  Jane made a queer expression at him. “No indeed, William. I am doing my best to overcome my grief, I promise you. It is just such a change, all at once.”

  “I understand. It was a shock for me, rejoining society after we lost our father, perhaps made worse because I was alone.”

  Jane’s eyes widened with distress. “Oh William, I am so sorry!”

  “No, no – I am not blaming you, Jane. You did well to stay at Pemberley, where you were needed. I only meant to say that I did rejoin society alone, and perhaps it may prove an advantage for you to be amongst so much family as you have around you for your come-out. You are gentle and kind, but so very shy. Your sister Elizabeth may be a little too... brash, but she is confident and has little trouble conversing with others. Perhaps you might temper one another, learning more of one another’s strengths while polishing the weaknesses. You might grow more voluble under her influence, and likewise lend her your sweetness.”

  Jane smiled widely at him and laid a hand on his. “Oh, William, what a lovely thing to say! It is just what I have wished to hear from you! Lizzy is... oh, Brother, she has suffered a great deal, and yet she is so bright and easy to be around. I know you have never known one another as I know you both, but if only you could!”

  “That is just what Richard said last night.”

  Jane blushed again. “I am gratified to hear that I am not alone in hoping you and Lizzy might get along. I have wronged her before, and I am striving to make amends – to know that you would do the same... oh, Brother, it means so much to me.”

  Darcy was stung by her words – she had suggested that he had wronged Elizabeth. Richard thought the same, but he was always so brusque – yet if Jane could say such a thing, he must wonder if it was true.

  “Well, my dear, if our mother has not already told you, she wishes Elizabeth to come and live with us.”

  Jane’s eyes lit with delight. “Oh, William! Might I tell Mary? She will be so very happy, too. You are so good to us, Brother. When is she to come?”

  “That I cannot say. I had thought I might pay her a visit, to make my amends to her and discuss the particulars with Sir Edward.”

  Jane giggled and gave him a mischievous look. “You must go this morning. What a fine joke if Lizzy was in the house, unpacking her things when Mary and Mamma finally awaken!”

  Darcy laughed indulgently. “I doubt it may be that swift, but for you, my dear, I shall do my best.” At this Darcy stood and gave his sister a quick kiss on the top of her head – not a gesture he frequently made, but in his resolution to act it simply felt right – and then he strode purposefully out of the house, toward Upper Brook Street.

  ***

  Sir Edward met Darcy in the foyer and welcomed him into the house. He led Darcy into the sitting room, saying, “Yes, I was on the point of speaking to Lizzy about your mother’s proposed living arrangements – your arrival is most fortuitously timed.”

  Only Rose was in the sitting room; she had evidently not been expecting company. Her long brown hair hung loose about her shoulders and she was looking rather pale. She had been curled up in the window seat of the front parlor, a book in her lap, and her knees tucked into her chest, though she had assumed a more formal attitude upon his entrance. She gave Sir Edward a rather sour look behind his back at the mention of Elizabeth moving to Darcy House. Despite the cheek of it, Darcy felt a little sorry for the emotion in her eyes – she must be disappointed to lose the constant companionship of a dear cousin. Perhaps something might be done for her benefit as well – she was far more poised than he would have expected Lady Olivia’s daughter to be, despite her current displeasure. She might do well to stay at Matlock House with Charlotte and their aunt Phyllis for a time.

  “Yes, I have come to discuss the matter with Elizabeth. Indeed, I believe I have some amends to make.”

  Sir Edward nodded. “Well then, I shall leave you to it.”

  Rose set the book aside entirely now, drew her shawl tighter around herself, and looked up expectantly at him, wearing just a trace of a smile. “Amends?”

  “Indeed. I have spoken with both Jane and Richard, and consulted my own conscience – I suppose it is time I begin to behave as a brother, where I have not always done. Pray, forgive me – are you quite well?” Without knowing what he was about, he had sat down beside her on the window seat and taken her hand in his. “Truly, you look rather distraught. Might I get something for your present relief – some water, or tea perhaps?”

  “No, forgive me. I... I ought to have thought of calling for the tea myself... I am always forgetting. You must think me quite hopeless.”

  “No indeed, but it is clear that you are not yourself.”

  “I – my mind is quite distracted at present.”

  “I am sure. You must be dreading the separation from your cousin.”

  “Yes, among other feelings,” she said, giving him a wary look.

  “Well, perhaps you ought to go and take some rest. I mean to speak with Elizabeth, and I am sure she will go to you after.”

  Rose’s eyes went wide, and she smirked at him with no little incredulity. “Speak with Elizabeth? Do you not even know me, William?”

  Darcy flinched, dumbfounded. “Rose....”

  She merely shook her head and laughed at him. He gaped at her, unable to speak as he was struck by the full weight of his mistake. This was Elizabeth? Good God, it was she I admired at Christmas? He knew he ought to feel revolted for feeling anything like attraction to her – was she not his sister? And yet, she was not – he had never truly felt that she was. She was certainly not the timid child who had come to Pemberley. She was a woman grown, and a woman he barely knew.

  At present, she was a woman who was laughing derisively at him; she asked, “Well, am I to expect no reply?”

  Elizabeth’s laughter faded, she pushed herself up off the window seat and began to pace the room, her countenance unreadable. “You said you had come here to make amends.”

  “I did – I have. I spoke with Richard and with Jane, and thought perhaps I ought to extend the olive branch. It was an honest mistake, thinking you were Rose....”

  “An honest mistake? You are so keen to forgive yourself, you needn’t even ask it of me!”

  Darcy recoiled. She was right – he had not even apologized. “I am an ass,” he sighed.

  “Well now, we agree on something! Richard and Jane shall be delighted.”

  Darcy paced toward her, his eyes boring into hers. “I would have you know, Sister, I promised them that I would make an effort, if only for their sakes, and my mother’s.”

  Elizabeth sneered at him with intense contempt and she pounded her little fists against his chest, pushing him away. “Do not call me your sister. I have never wished to be, and you have made it clear for nearly twenty years that you feel the same. I am sorry to pain Jane and Mamma, but I daresay they have long been pained by your treatment of me, and I rather wonder why it only now begins to matter, long after I have given up any hope or desire to be on amicable terms with you.”

  Darcy gritted his teeth. “So this is your opinion of me? Thank you for explaining so fully. I have done you no greater wrong that assume you still wore your hair short, as your portrait last year indicated. A small error after three years of separation, and for this you would seek not only to berate me, but in doing so punish the woman who welcomed you into her home, who has only ever cared for you, loved you as a daughter?”

  “I have no doubt of my mother’s affection for me, sir; I can only wonder at how such a woman could have such an unfeeling, judgmental, manipulative son.”

  “Unfeeling and manipulative?” Darcy scoffed. “I may have judged you – I would have been happy
to admit I was wrong for it, had you given me half the chance, before you confirmed my every censure by railing at me in such vulgar terms. But I am not without feeling, Elizabeth. I care deeply for our mother and sisters, and would put aside my prejudices about you to welcome you into my home, so you cannot say I am unfeeling.”

  “Your prejudices about me? So, you shall not deny that you have held me in contempt all these years?” Tears were streaming down Elizabeth’s cheeks, but she looked far from defeated. “What have I ever done to you, to deserve to be treated so differently from Jane and Mary?”

  “You left,” Darcy bellowed.

  Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest and continued to pace the room like a wild animal. “You have no right to speak of such things! You know nothing about it! I had to leave. Mamma knew my reasons, and my uncles, and Jane knows, too. I owe you no explanation. I was a child!”

  “You are Lady Olivia’s creature through and through – a spoilt child, mouthing off in the ballroom like a petulant little brat!”

  “How dare you? I am a petulant little brat?”

  “And I am a selfish, boorish beast!”

  “Yes you are! You pretend to care about Jane, when you have been the cause of all her troubles!”

  “I have only ever tried to protect her.”

  “Have you? You have protected her fiancé right into an early grave, and now you think pushing her at your friend will fix everything.”

  “You would tell me not to speak of what I know nothing about? You have no right – you know nothing of Wickham!”

  “I know he was an amiable young man who loved Jane. But that was not good enough for you, was it? You interfered in his taking orders and sent him off to his death, causing me to lose my sister and giving Jane a heartbreak of the most acute kind! Yet now you think to interfere again, to push Mr. Bingley at her as if that will make up for your costing her the life of her fiancé. You have no regard for how any of them actually feel about it!”