A Vision of the Path Before Him

by Elizabeth Frerichs

  “What about me?”

  “Have you experienced extreme character shifts yourself?” he asked teasingly.

  Elizabeth chuckled. “No. I’m afraid that I have always been rather stubbornly myself, even when I wished to be otherwise. And I can safely say that I have never met anyone who has so thoroughly changed in such a short time frame as you, Mr. Darcy.”

  “We would weather it were such an event to occur,” Darcy said seriously.

  “I think . . . I think you may be correct about that. I suppose we shall just have to see. After all, one never knows precisely how one may act until one is in a situation.”

  “True,” he agreed. “Do you have other questions regarding my vision now that you have had more time to consider the matter?”

  Elizabeth’s lips quirked up. “Beyond how it happened?”

  Darcy smiled. “Yes. As I said, I cannot account for that.”

  “What was it like?” she asked, studying the path ahead of them. “You have said it was as though you lived those events, but what do you mean by that?”

  “The vision felt as real as this moment does.” He placed a hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “I could touch the people around me just as I can touch you now. I could smell the damp and,” his lips turned up, recalling Elizabeth’s absurd conversation with Mr. Hurst when she had been staying at Netherfield, “taste the ragout just as I have since returning to this time. Sight, sound, everything—it was as though I were experiencing real events.”

  “Do you not get bored?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “If you are repeating events that seemed equally real, do you not get bored with having the same conversations and experiencing the same things?”

  Darcy considered. “I do not deny that, at times, my mind has wandered while reliving events. However, I am such a different person that my feelings about the events are very different, not to mention that my reactions have shaped different events than occurred Before. Obviously,” he said, drawing her closer, “I could not have imagined engaging in a courtship with you at this time Before.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I could not have imagined engaging in a courtship with you three weeks ago.”

  “Ah, but I am not the man I was three weeks ago.”

  “That is clear.”

  “Truly, Elizabeth, I hope you can see the changes I have made to my character.”

  She smiled up at him. “That is far more evident than any reason for such changes. I am glad that I am courting this Mr. Darcy and not the Mr. Darcy from the assembly.”

  “He was a fool to fight his love for you,” Darcy murmured.

  Elizabeth blushed. “Does it bother you that you have grown a year older when everyone else has remained the same?”

  “Fitzwilliam said that you view it that way. I suppose that one may argue I am older having lived that year, but, no, I believe what I have gained is worth far more than whatever I have lost.”

  “What have you lost?”

  Darcy smiled fondly—this was his Elizabeth: always curious and unafraid to speak her mind. “In the past, Before, my relations with various people had changed. I do find myself missing the old Bingley, but I am confident that he shall reappear before long.”

  “How was Mr. Bingley different?”

  “He had become much more sure of himself and more able to manage his family.”

  “I see.” Elizabeth paused. “Do you think Miss Bingley likely to interfere in Jane’s courtship?”

  Darcy shook his head. “Not at all. Bingley is much better at knowing his own mind now than he has been in the past, and I do not believe she will sway him. Are you concerned?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Not exactly concerned. Jane is—Jane always sees the best in others.”

  “So you have said.”

  “I am worried that her compassion for Miss Bingley and care for Mr. Bingley will tempt her to put an end to their courtship lest she cause a family rift.”

  “I am certain Bingley can convince her to do otherwise.”

  “You are probably right. I merely worry for my sister’s tender heart.”

  “I understand. I have similar concerns for my sister as she is also a tender-hearted person.”

  Elizabeth smiled up at him. “Your concern appears to extend to a great number of people.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have continued to spend time with Mary, and she has continued to blossom under the attention. We have expanded our study of music to include literature, in an attempt to grasp the emotions the composer was trying to convey.”

  “I am gratified to hear that she is doing well. I have not spoken to her much in the past few days; I hope she has not resented it.”

  Elizabeth’s smile grew. “Far from it. I told her and Jane of our courtship last night; it was the first time that Jane and I have invited Mary to our nightly chat—something that would not have occurred were it not for your concern for others.”

  Darcy suppressed a blush as Elizabeth praised his concern for others; her words were balm for the wound left by the reality of his “selfish disdain of the feelings of others.” “Thank you,” he breathed, bringing them to a halt and facing her, his fingers entwined with hers.

  “For what?” Elizabeth asked, raising an eyebrow. “I ought rather to thank you for helping Mary.”

  “Thank you for seeing good in me. Thank you for teaching me to care for others.” He brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. “Watching you has taught me much about how to be a good person.”

  Elizabeth stiffened as though his words were darts that she needed to shield against. “I am afraid I am not the paragon you paint me as. I failed with Mary and others in my family.”

  Darcy pressed her fingers. “No, you have only failed if you never try, and I am certain you have begun to try with Miss Mary.”

  “But not with Kitty or Lydia,” Elizabeth said with a grimace, resuming their walk, her eyes fixed on the path.

  “Perhaps you need only change your relationship with one sister rather than attempting to alter your relations with all your sisters at once. Or perhaps you should focus on making small changes.”

  “Such as?”

  “In my vision, I began making small changes in how I treated Bingley and then gradually larger changes in response to his altered behaviour. I tried to listen to him and to ask for his advice on those matters I knew he was more knowledgeable in than I, rather than constantly advising him. Unintentionally, I had treated him as a child, but after my encounter with you, I began to treat him as an equal.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “I do not know what I ought to change in my relationships with Kitty and Lydia.”

  “Perhaps you merely need to listen to them, even when their words seem unimportant. I have noticed that they both appear to desire attention.”

  “That is true. I have often thought that Kitty only follows Lydia so assiduously because she is afraid of being ignored. They seem to engage in a daily contest to see who can speak the loudest.” She sighed. “But I have barely seen either of them for the past several days. They have been spending their time at my aunt’s or with Maria Lucas, despite Maria’s ‘prank’ on Lydia.”

  “The supposed berries by the stream or another prank?”

  “The berries. I had thought that Lydia would remain cross with Maria or attempt a return prank of greater scope.” She shook her head. “Perhaps she is only spending time with her to plan such a prank.”

  Darcy hesitated then agreed. Whatever Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty were involved in, he doubted it would be anything too dangerous; after all, they had several months before Wickham would attempt to woo Miss Lydia. Plenty of time for Darcy to marry Elizabeth and convince Mr. Bennet that both younger girls needed a companion or schooling.

  “And how did Miss Mary and Miss Bennet take the news of our courtship?” he asked.

  “They were both very happy for me; you have certainly won them over these past weeks.”


  “I have enjoyed my time with them, and I am grateful for their support.”

  Elizabeth grimaced. “I am sorry that I was unwilling to listen to you, that you required Jane’s assistance. Though I pride myself on acquiring the facts before making a judgment, I was—afraid.”

  “Afraid?”

  Elizabeth looked down. “Afraid of my own mistakes, afraid that I had erred once again. I had been wrong about even my own sister. If I were wrong about you . . . .” Tears clogged her voice. “I had convinced myself that I would be able to accept a friendship with you while I believed you in love with another, but my heart was and is too engaged to endure a betrayal by you. And your story was so—fantastically impossible, so like a tale designed to deceive. I could not bear to think that I had misjudged you so horribly, that my first impression was correct, and that I had been a fool to allow you access to my heart.”

  Darcy gently pulled Elizabeth to a halt and gathered her in his arms. “Elizabeth, I cannot pretend that your avoidance did not distress me, but I understood that it was a difficult thing to believe—I still understand. I do not hold it against you. How can I when I myself had a difficult time believing the reality of my experience?”

  “But I—I was awful to you. I avoided you, refused to listen, and all but called you a liar.”

  “You were protecting your heart. I did the same thing until I learned that loving you made me a better person, regardless of whether or not you loved me in return. I am not upset with you.”

  Elizabeth put a hand on his chest, searching his gaze. “I—thank you. I should have trusted your character.”

  “You are in an incredibly difficult situation. Visions of the future are the stuff of fiction or insanity. It is difficult to accept when natural laws appear to have been broken and much easier to credit alternate explanations that cast doubt on someone’s trustworthiness, whether you would doubt yourself or me.”

  Elizabeth gave a watery chuckle. “You are experienced in such matters? What other laws of nature have you broken?”

  Darcy returned her chuckle. “I cannot say that I have broken any others, however, my own disorientation when awakening nearly a year in the past has given me great compassion for anyone who has struggled to grasp such events.” He tightened his hold on her. “Take all the time you need to come to terms with the truth.”

  Apollo chose that moment to interrupt them as though he had sensed Elizabeth’s distress and was unwilling to leave all the comforting to Darcy, and Elizabeth, after she had given his horse the attention he desired, did not return to the topic. Instead, the conversation drifted to Mrs. Bennet’s plans for a Christmas wedding and when Elizabeth would meet Georgiana.

  Chapter 37

  When Darcy returned to Netherfield, Bingley was nearly champing at the bit to call on the Bennets. Darcy would have shared his urgency had he not just spent the past hour with his beloved.

  “Did you have a nice ride?” Fitzwilliam asked as soon as Darcy entered the breakfast room.

  Despite Miss Bingley’s presence, Darcy could not contain the wide grin that spread across his face. “Yes.”

  Bingley stopped his pacing. “You did?”

  “The, er, weather was fair?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  Darcy merely replied with an affirmative while he collected his breakfast.

  “Mr. Darcy, may I have a moment of your time this morning?” Miss Bingley asked when he sat down.

  Darcy suppressed a sigh as he considered her probable topic of conversation and the subsequent eruption that would follow whenever she did manage to corner him if he refused her now. “I am afraid not. Bingley and I have already promised to call on the Bennets this morning.” He waved a hand towards Bingley who was even now ready to leave, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway of the breakfast room. “I do not think your brother desires to wait any longer.”

  “I am certain you are not required for this—call,” she said.

  “Though I may not be required, I desire to pay this call,” Darcy said shortly. “And I have already agreed to accompany Bingley.”

  He managed to eat several bites before Miss Bingley continued her wheedling.

  “Then I would desire a moment of your time after you return,” she said. “I have something in particular to discuss with you.”

  Darcy set his fork down and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Miss Bingley, you have nothing to say which I have not previously heard and given my response to. I have already warned you of the dangers of meddling in your brother’s affairs. I will not be a party to whatever schemes you may have concocted.”

  Miss Bingley went white, then opened her mouth, a look of rage spreading over her features.

  Rather than allowing her to harangue him anymore, Darcy stood. “I believe I am ready now, Bingley. Fitzwilliam, are you accompanying us?”

  Fitzwilliam cast a wary glance towards Miss Bingley and then announced that he would join the two gentlemen on their call.

  Unfortunately, when they reached Longbourn, they were not immediately granted entrance. A harried looking maid opened the door and did not seem eager to admit anyone.

  “I will see if they are at home to visitors,” she said when they presented their cards.

  Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. Far from expressing any other plans for the day, Elizabeth had shyly asked if he intended to call that day and had blushed when he promised to come. He had expected an open welcome today.

  Piercing wails rent the air, and all three gentlemen exchanged uneasy looks. What mischief was afoot? Darcy’s heart began to race as he tried to divine what the uproar could signal.

  “Miss Elizabeth says to wait in the dining room,” the maid said when she returned. She ushered them into a small dining room and shut the door.

  Upstairs, hurried footsteps rushed from one location to another.

  Darcy’s frown deepened as worry clogged his thoughts like the sodden clothing that weighed him down as he slogged through the spring floods at Pemberley. Bingley shifted back and forth uneasily, and Fitzwilliam’s stance had fallen into military lines as though he were bracing for a crisis. Darcy paced in front of the door, unable to settle.

  “I apologise for keeping you waiting,” Elizabeth said as she entered.

  “Not at all,” Darcy said, kissing her hand and studying her pale face.

  Elizabeth curtsied. “Mr. Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  The gentlemen returned her greeting, then Bingley stepped forward. “Miss Elizabeth, is Miss Bennet all right?”

  Elizabeth gave a tight nod. “Jane is fine, other than the distress we are all currently feeling.” She wrung her hands, and Darcy could not recall seeing her so agitated. “Lydia has—she has run away with Mr. Wickham.”

  The room spun as Elizabeth’s words echoed through Darcy’s mind. “Is it certain?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Oh yes. She left a note.” Elizabeth ran a shaky hand across her face. “You may read it if you desire.” She removed a folded slip of paper from her sleeve, unfolded it, and handed it to Darcy.

  Dear Mama,

  Such thrilling and entertaining news I have for you—I can hardly write for laughing at the thought of it: I will be the first of my sisters to be married. Is it not a lark? I have always said that, as I am the tallest, I ought to have precedence and so I will.

  Do not worry; I shall send later for wedding clothes, and I am certain, once I am married, I will be able to put my sisters in the way of a great many more eligible young soldiers, so you need not worry. My darling Wickham has said that, as Mr. Darcy has poisoned you all against him, we will be married in Scotland. La! Can you imagine it? Scotland! Is it not like a fairy tale?

  Please have Jenny wash my pink muslin as it has a stain on the left sleeve; I have hung it across my chair. And, if she has time, I should desire my blue dress to be mended before I return. I know that you will ensure I have the loveliest wedding clothes, but I do like that dress and should like to take it with me into my married life. Oh,
and of course, you will have to tell Papa of my departure, but please delay telling him until as late as possible—tomorrow, perhaps.

  Lydia

  Darcy suppressed a grimace at the lighthearted tone of the letter and Miss Lydia’s expectation that her mother would be wild with delight at her daughter’s elopement.

  “How long ago did they leave?” Fitzwilliam demanded.

  “I do not know. She was seen entering her bedchamber at the usual hour last night, and our maid discovered the note some thirty minutes ago.”

  “What is being done?” Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth’s lips trembled. “I have asked the stable hands if they noticed her leaving—they did not. Jane is trying to comfort my mother who is inconsolable that Lydia would deny her a wedding.”

  “A wedding?” Bingley asked, looking up from the letter. “She believes Wickham will marry Miss Lydia?”

  “Lydia said that she was eloping with Mr. Wickham, and I do not believe Mama has even considered the alternative,” she said in a low voice, her gaze seeking out Darcy.

  Darcy clasped her hands, trying to still their fidgets and provide strength. “We will find them. They cannot be far.”

  “They may be some hours ahead,” Elizabeth said shakily.

  “Did Miss Lydia’s letter say where they intended to go?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Scotland. It is the only place where they could get married without parental consent. I am certain Lydia would think it an adventure beyond anything to marry at Gretna Green.”

  “If Wickham intended to marry her,” Fitzwilliam said darkly.

  A sob broke free from Elizabeth, and Darcy glared at Fitzwilliam.

  “She has no money, no prospects,” she choked out. “I do not understand why he would have done such a thing.”

  “Nor do I,” Darcy said grimly. “But we will put things to rights.” He drew Elizabeth into his arms as though she were Georgiana, trying to comfort her. “What does your father intend to do?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not know. I hardly know what can be done.”

  “We will find them, Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said fiercely.