A Life Apart: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Harriet Knowles

  He stood up, and assisted her to her feet. “Let us have a drink, it will help you to sleep.”

  She checked, and looked at him.

  He took her to the sofa. “What did I say?”

  She laughed as she sat herself down, stretching her feet towards the fire. “You said a drink would help me sleep.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I hardly thought you’d have that in mind when we retire!”

  Darcy felt himself flush, he’d never met anyone like her before — but then he had to admit to himself he had never considered the relationship between a man and his wife, how free it might be. He rather liked it.

  “Well, you have succeeded, Elizabeth. I can think of no polite rejoinder.”

  She leaned forward, serious once more. “You must tell me, Mr. Darcy, if I am too forward in my manner and my words. I beg your forgiveness, I think my relief at the resolution of all this uncertainty might be leading me to be too lighthearted.”

  He smiled, knowing it looked a little strained. “I think this situation is new to both of us, Elizabeth.” He clasped her hand and kissed it. “It has been quite a strain today, for both of us.” He kissed her hand again. “And we start our trip to the north in the morning.”

  She sat back with a sigh. “A small drink sounds very agreeable, William. Thank you.”

  He smiled and got to his feet. He poured a small sherry for her and a madeira for himself and returned to her side.

  For a while they sat in contented silence, and then he looked at her. “I think we should retire now, Elizabeth.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes were luminous and he felt his breathing lurch.

  He waited impatiently when he was ready, thinking that she might take longer to prepare for bed than he, and finally he could wait no longer, but knocked on the door to her chamber, entering quietly.

  She was waiting as she had the previous night, at the window, and his breath caught in his throat at her beauty and serene smile.

  He gathered her hungrily in his arms, feeling her pliant body pressed against his. “My beloved Elizabeth.”

  The heady scent of lavender rose around him as he saw her ripe lips parting beneath his gaze and the warmth of her body all merged into a need he’d never previously acknowledged.

  His hand tangled in her hair and he drew her mouth to his and groaned. Her heartbeat raced against his chest and she pressed herself closer.

  He lifted his head a few moments later, unable to resist gazing once more at her. An instant later, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their bed.

  Everything could wait. Tomorrow, their families, everything could wait.

  “My beloved Elizabeth, you are all I could ever desire.” He let his finger trace along the line of her brow and then along the shell-like edge of her ear, hearing her sharply indrawn breath and seeing her shiver at his touch. She was perfect. Perfect.

  Chapter 48

  This chamber was tiny. Elizabeth laughed as she looked around it, and even Emilie smiled as her mistress took the two steps which was all it took to cross the room.

  Elizabeth had to bend low to be able to peer out of the tiny window nestled beneath the roof. But the view was worth it. The great wild moorland, bleaker and even more wild and lovely than the peaks of Derbyshire, the springy heathers and patches of bracken — it was all almost too beautiful.

  She turned and let Emilie help divest her of her coat and hat and she sat before the mirror to have her hair tidied. She would not take long, William was waiting downstairs and she still longed to spend all her time beside him.

  Soon she was hurrying down the steep little staircase and saw him waiting for her at the parlour door. It wasn’t really the season for travellers, and it seemed they were the only guests. However, with the servants, including the coachmen, they were probably a larger party than the inn could easily accommodate. But the landlord seemed delighted with the custom. His wife carried in a large tray, a steaming lidded tureen issuing a mouthwatering aroma.

  William smiled. “I’m so happy you have your appetite back, Elizabeth. You are looking very well now.” He drew back the chair for her. “After lunch, we will walk into the hills long enough for you to get hungry for supper!”

  “Well, lunch looks wonderful.” Elizabeth nodded at the servant and waited to be served.

  She allowed the edge of his hunger to pass before she looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

  He laughed. “You can tell me what you are planning, Elizabeth! I know that look already.”

  “Oh, dear. And I thought I may be able to surprise you, at least for this request.” She was delighted to be able to speak thus with him, she would never have believed at their first meetings that they might acquire such easy informality.

  “I know you had said that Pitlochry would be the furthest north we might come this trip?”

  “Yes?” The resignation in his voice made her laugh.

  “Oh, I know the reasons for it, William, but the place I long to see is not much further. I am sure we could take it in and be back here within a few hours. If the weather is good, might we?”

  “And what is this place that has taken your attention?” He sounded indulgent, and she knew he would not refuse her.

  “I read about it in your books. It has such an absurd name to be attached to such a thrilling story.”

  He nodded. “I think I know where you mean. But pray be explicit.”

  She rolled the name around in her mind before saying it, it was so wonderful. “Killiecrankie.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe that there is a real place called Killiecrankie. And there is the Soldier’s Leap we could go and see, where he jumped the gorge to escape his enemies.” She leaned forward. “There was an illustration in your book. I cannot believe he could jump so far and I would like to see if the artist exaggerated the feat.”

  William leaned back. “We may go and see it, of course. It is only about four miles away, so we will have to go tomorrow, but I think you will enjoy it. The river flows through some wonderful forest and the autumn colours are dramatic.”

  “Killiecrankie,” Elizabeth mused. “I will never forget the name.”

  She saw him smiling at her and shivered slightly. It had been nearly three weeks since they had left Pemberley, and she was relaxing into the knowledge that she was, in truth, Mrs. Darcy. And she loved it.

  Each night was new and travelling in such a remote place meant that there were tiny inns and even smaller chambers. Her husband was politeness itself and allowed her to retire first and prepare for bed, before he joined her in their shared chamber.

  She gained much secret enjoyment from watching him as he moved around the low-ceilinged chambers, removing jacket and cravat, tossing them over the back of the chair. Then she would watch out of the corner of her eye as he pulled the shirt off over his head and she could see his strong, lean body before he pulled on his nightshirt and she knew she’d have to wait until the next night for another memory.

  “I think you have been dreaming long enough, Elizabeth.” He was laughing at her distraction. “If you have eaten enough, let us go for a walk until we can look down on the town. And then tomorrow, we can go to Killiecrankie.” He smiled at her amusement.

  An hour later, they turned and looked back down over the slope they had just climbed. The wind whipped around her skirts and threatened almost to lift her off her feet, had William not had his arm round her.

  She was very glad of his support. “It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen.” She had to raise her voice to be heard, the wind was so strong.

  Her husband tightened his grip. “You have said that about every place we have been to, Elizabeth. I think you will have to decide on one place to remember with the most affection.”

  She turned her face to his. “Oh, I have done that already, William. Pemberley is my favourite place in all the world.”

  He smiled down at her. “You know the best way to please me already, I see.” He gazed out o
ver the landscape. “It is a pity that we will have to spend some time in London in the spring, at least for part of the season. But I always spend as much time as I can at Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I heard that from Mrs. Reynolds.”

  He smiled down at her. “I am fortunate in the staff there, they are loyal and hard-working.”

  She gazed down the hill, where she could see Mr. Reed waiting and watching to see if they signalled for assistance. “But you are a good master to work for,” she reminded him. “I have heard of your insistence that your workers are respected and provided for properly. You have earned their loyalty.”

  “Thank you.” He shook himself. “That is enough flattery for the time being, I think. We should make our way back to the inn before you get any colder. I expect they have a good fire in the parlour.”

  Elizabeth was glad of his arm supporting her as they picked their way back down the steep, stony path to the inn. It had taken several days to convince William that she must walk these paths and would not be happy with merely strolling along the roadside.

  It was not long before they were sitting in front of a roaring fire in the parlour, with a tray of tea and a large plate of what Elizabeth would have called griddled pancakes but the landlady called scones, her thick Scottish burr making her hard to understand.

  Her husband was sitting contentedly, looking through the letters that had been redirected. He frowned over one and broke the seal. He scanned the letter quickly and laughed heartily.

  “Oh, no. I am sure we cannot have that. Not at all.”

  Chapter 49

  Elizabeth glanced over at him, startled. He looked at her almost mischievously.

  “Settle yourself comfortably in your chair, my dear, and prepare for great entertainment.”

  Elizabeth sat back, looking at him a little suspiciously. What could be so amusing? He leaned forward and extended the letter to her.

  “I think you might prefer reading it yourself. Or if you prefer, I could read it aloud.”

  She reached out and took it wonderingly. “It is very closely written, William. I would not have you strain your voice.”

  He sat back. “Pray take your time and enjoy it. I will be happy to listen to any passage you think I might enjoy hearing you read out loud.”

  She was puzzled at his lightness of mood, and glanced at the address at the top of the letter.

  Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

  The place meant nothing to her, so she turned to the end to read the signature.

  William Collins

  She did not recognise the name and glanced over at her husband. “I do not know this gentleman, sir. Are you acquainted with him?”

  “No, not at all. But he explains all in the letter. At great length.” He rolled his eyes. “At great and effusive length. I admit that I thought, from what he says, that you might recognise the name. But it appears not. I expect all will become clear as you read.” Having said that, he sat back, still greatly amused.

  Puzzled, Elizabeth turned to the letter.

  Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

  25th November.

  Dear Sir,

  I have today been most fortunate to receive the confidences of my most esteemed patroness, the right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has entrusted me to the valuable rectory at Hunsford, close to Rosings Park.

  Since then, I have been endeavouring to earnestly perform the duties and requirements of the office to which I have been elevated, and promote and influence the blessing of peace on the families within my purview.

  Elizabeth stopped reading for a moment and glanced over at her husband, rolling her own eyes at the overblown and self-important language. “Is he going to try and end our marriage, sir?”

  “No, no, not at all! Continue reading, Elizabeth. The amusing part still awaits you.”

  She turned back to the letter.

  And it is as such part of my duties to hear the confidences of those of my parishioners who will require or request my advice and recommendations on any matters of their hearts and minds or any other subject which might trouble them exceedingly.

  And thus, I was entrusted with the distressing confidences of Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself after her recent visit to your great and valuable estate of Pemberley in Derbyshire.

  I am sure you can imagine my shock and distress when I heard of the grievous affliction you are now suffering under, following your obligation to marry the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  Lady Catherine has informed me that you are desirous of fulfilling your duty to your wife and I wish to send you the news of my great admiration for your fortitude and forbearance, and I most sincerely sympathise with you in such execution of your self-imposed duty.

  Her husband chuckled and Elizabeth looked up, startled.

  “No matter,” he said. “I was merely trying to guess which part of the letter you were reading, from attempting to read your own, most expressive, features.”

  Elizabeth smiled wryly. “And what did you think I had just read?”

  “Oh, something about my fortitude and forbearance,” he replied complacently, examining his feet, stretched out in front of him towards the fire.

  Elizabeth now rolled her eyes at him. “I might need to say something that would indeed test your forbearance,” she muttered, but returned to the letter, her curiosity piqued.

  But here I come to the most important part of the letter, with information which might be most surprising to you.

  I, sir, have the honour of being the, perhaps unlikely, inheritor of an estate currently in the ownership of my cousin, who has the most dreadful misfortune of failing to sire an heir to the estate which is entailed to the male line.

  The gentleman in question, who, most unfortunately, was in a long-standing disagreement with my late honoured father, resulting in the lack of an acquaintanceship between us; this gentleman has been blessed only with the birth of five daughters.

  Elizabeth swallowed suddenly. Mr. Collins? Mr. Collins, the heir to Longbourn?

  William reached out to her. “It must be quite a shock to you, Elizabeth. When I laughed, I did not know you were not aware that he held the entail. It is the latter part of the letter which was amusing to me, not this part.”

  She looked up at him. “I understand. And we all know about the entail, so it is not too shocking.”

  She was most curious now, and looked back at the letter.

  Having met Mr. Bennet, you must by now have divined the great wonder which this happy chance has occasioned. For, having previously received the advice of Lady Catherine, I have determined to marry. And it had occurred to me to make the family the fortunate recipients of my readiness to make them every possible amends for their grievous misfortune.

  I have made some enquiries and have heard news that the eldest Miss Bennet is of the most handsome mien and gentle amiability, such as would make her the most perfect clergyman’s wife.

  Elizabeth bit her lip, her heart suddenly racing.

  It would therefore seem that we, Mr. Darcy; you and I, might at a certain instance in the future, find ourselves to be brothers-in-law, a most happy and wonderful coincidence, as I am sure you must agree.

  Elizabeth nearly dropped the letter. “I do not believe it!”

  William rose to his feet and came and sat beside her. “Am I right in supposing that your sister Jane is the eldest of your sisters?”

  “I … yes, she is.” Elizabeth scanned the letter again, which merely contained a few more platitudes and hopes for close felicity once they were indeed, brothers-in-law, followed by an effusive farewell. She put the letter down gently, as if frightened it might yet rise up and assault her senses again.

  “Sir, I cannot think but that a man who would write such a letter would not be in any sense the right husband for my poor sister.” She tried not to wring her hands.

  He reached out and took her hands in his. “Do not distress yourself at all,
Elizabeth. There is no possible way in which I could possibly permit Mr. Collins to be my brother-in-law.” He bared his teeth at the letter.

  Then he turned to Elizabeth. “I think we might need to return to London instead of going back to Pemberley — at least until your sister’s security is sorted out.”

  She picked up the letter again. “It will take a long time to get there, and we must think of what to do.”

  “Do not worry, Elizabeth. I have had what I believe is a good idea, and I think we might develop it into a likely plan on our journey south.” He put his arm round her. “I am amused at his letter and the presumption that he believes I would be delighted to have him as a relation.” He turned her face to his. “Believe me, it will never happen.” He traced her lips with his finger.

  “I know a perfect gentleman whom I believe would be able to win your sister’s affections.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Please trust me, Elizabeth.”

  She nestled into his arms. “I do trust you. But I suppose it means I must contact Jane.” She sighed. “But I know Mama will read her letter. It is difficult to keep anything private at Longbourn.”

  “Well, we will see.” William released her and moved back to the opposite seat when they heard the knock on the door.

  “Come in!” he called.

  The landlady entered to announce that their supper was ready.

  Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she said. “We are looking forward to it.”

  Chapter 50

  He watched her over the dining table as they ate that evening. “Do not be dismayed by the letter, Elizabeth. Together, we can do what is needed.”