Elizabeth, Darcy, and Me: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (Elizabeth and Her Sisters Book 1)

by Georgina Young-Ellis

  The two gentlemen’s success with their ladies prompted me to look for another encounter with Mary. And so, as soon as we had a fine morning, I stole along the road to Longbourn, hoping, once again, to find Mary upon her tree branch. Instead, however, I encountered Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walking near there, arm in arm.

  I was surprised when Mr. Darcy exclaimed to her, “Now look, Lizzy, who comes here! It is our hero, Christopher Jones.”

  I bowed to her, embarrassed to be called a hero in any capacity, my face growing hot. I feared she did not remember me, and no words would come to my lips.

  “Our hero, why what do you mean, Fitzwilliam?” she asked him.

  “I have not yet told you that he was one of the key players in our discovering Wickham and Lydia in London.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I might never have told you, since I never meant for Lydia to tell you that I paid Wickham off to marry your sister. But since she did, I was the one coming off as the hero. What I did was merely find a solution to his refusal to marry her. What Christopher did was to find them in the first place.”

  “You did?” she said to me. “Well, I thank you heartily, Mr. Jones.”

  “It was nothing ma’am, please do not think of it.”

  She laughed in her beautiful, tinkling way. “Do not call me ma’am, Mr. Jones. I am not yet an old married woman.”

  “Forgive me, ma’am, I mean, miss,” I said, confused at first. But then I added. “However, you must call me Christopher.”

  “Christopher is Mr. Bingley’s groom,” Mr. Darcy interjected. “However, he came with me to Rosings, and then Pemberley, because Gypsy loves him so; she could not do without him.”

  “I do not blame her,” Elizabeth said charmingly. “But I must tell you, Christopher and I have met,” she added. “It was at Netherfield, when Jane was sick. We had a brief conversation in the meadow, if I recall correctly.”

  “We did indeed, miss,” I said, gratified that she recalled the conversation that to me was most pleasant.

  “Oh! Do not remind me of that particular week,” Mr. Darcy exclaimed. “I will never forgive myself for how abominably I behaved.”

  “Yes, you were abominable,” Elizabeth said with a teasing grin.

  “Yet I treasure the memory as well,” he said into her ear, as if I had ceased to exist, “because it was then I that I fell irretrievably under your spell.”

  “Fitzwilliam!” she cried admonishingly, and perhaps with a bit of embarrassment.

  Mr. Darcy returned the conversation rapidly to me. “At any rate, Christopher has been a valuable companion to me these last few weeks, but more than anything, he was the means of saving your sister’s reputation. It was he who unearthed the information that led me to them, when I was unable to glean that knowledge myself. We owe him everything.”

  “No, sir, please,” I cried. “What I did was nothing. Anyone would have done the same.”

  “No, Christopher,” Elizabeth said, now serious, taking my hand in both of hers and looking me deeply in the eyes. “Not everyone would have done the same. Very, very few people would have done what you did for my family. I am immensely grateful. You are a jewel.”

  “I did it for you, and Mr. Darcy, and for…” I caught myself before I said any more.

  “For whom, Christopher?” she asked me.

  “No. No one. For your family.” I glanced at Mr. Darcy and there was light of realization in his eyes.

  “I know for whom you did it,” he said.

  “Please sir,” I said, knowing my face must be bright red by then.

  “We will not press you if it causes you pain,” Elizabeth said kindly.

  “It was for Mary,” I whispered.

  “Mary!” Elizabeth cried. Then she became pensive. “I remember, it was you who escorted her to the carriage that night after the ball at Netherfield,” she said.

  “Yes,” I quietly admitted.

  “He has spoken of her in rather glowing terms in the past,” Mr. Darcy added.

  “How do you know her?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I don’t very well. I have only spoken to her on a few occasions. But I admire her.” It was all I was capable of uttering.

  Elizabeth remained quiet for a moment. “How much do you admire her, Christopher?” she finally asked.

  “Immensely,” I said in a whisper.

  “And do you know if she feels the same about you?”

  “Oh no,” I said, alarmed. “No, I am sure she does not. She could not. I am nothing to her. The lowliest of people. I could not expect her to ever feel anything for me.”

  She looked at Mr. Darcy slyly. “And yet,” Elizabeth replied, “stranger connections have been known to happen.”

  “Yes, it is true,” he agreed with a smile.

  “Christopher has helped my family more than words can express,” Elizabeth said, “and now it is time to help him. What do you say, Fitzwilliam?”

  “I say, leave it to us, Christopher. Maybe there is hope for you and your fair maiden after all.”

  “Sir, I have no means with which to hope. There is nothing I can offer a woman such as Mary Bennet.”

  “Well, to start with, Bingley has already told me that he plans to promote you to stablemaster, both at Netherfield and in London. Mr. Knobson is ready to retire, and Bingley says he knows of no better man to take that position than you. This will help your economic status considerably. What say you to that?”

  I was too stunned to reply. Elizabeth giggled in delight and squeezed Mr. Darcy’s hand.

  “Yet, there is the question of my birth,” I finally uttered. “And stablemaster is still too low a position”

  “Christopher, I agree there is much to overcome,” said Elizabeth. “We cannot promise you anything, but we will do what we can to help you. If you love Mary”

  “I do!” I blurted.

  She laughed in that delightful way of hers again. “Then let us see what can be done. First of all, however, I think perhaps there is the wooing of Mary to be thought of. She is not an easy nut to crack, so let us see what we can do to put you in her way. After that, it is up to you.”

  “And a romantic fellow like you should be able to succeed,” Mr. Darcy added with a smile.

  I thanked them, too overwhelmed to really know what to say, and urged them to continue with their walk. My heart and head were too full, and I needed to think. But now, I had hope, which was more than I had before, and I walked back toward Netherfield with a smile upon my face.

  The next day, Mr. Bingley applied to me to accompany him and Mr. Darcy to Longbourn upon Gabriel. I am to continue to care for his horses as long as they are in the Netherfield stables, and so for now, I am still, basically, as much Mr. Darcy’s groom as Mr. Bingley’s. I was surprised, however, that they asked me to go with them, but Mr. Darcy said Gabriel needed the exercise. I suspected he already had something up his sleeve.

  And so we went, me riding behind the gentlemen. When we reached Longbourn, I stayed in the stables to care for the horses, as usual, and the men went to the house. Soon after that, I heard a light footstep near the open door.

  “Hello?” a familiar voice called.

  I smoothed back my hair as best I could and went to respond to the call. I knew, of course, before I saw her, who it was.

  “Hello Miss Bennet,” I said, stepping outside of the stable into the sunlight.

  “Oh, Mr. Jones!”

  She seemed surprised. “What brings you out here?” I inquired of her. “Do you ride?” Mr. Bennet kept horses of his own, of course, but none were of the quality of Mr. Bingley’s and Mr. Darcy’s.

  “I know how to ride, but I prefer indoor activities. I am of a studious bent, if you did not know. I spend my time in self-improvement.”

  “I think the improvement that comes from fresh air, and exercise for the body, is just as important as improvements for the mind. If one does not have a healthy body, one’s mind cannot function at its optimum.”


  “And from whence do you obtain this philosophy? Is it your own or did you learn it from a medical personage?”

  “It is my own. Formed by my own observation. I find that those who do not exercise are sickly, and therefore without the energy for mental improvements. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

  “You must exercise quite a bit, what with all the riding you do. And how sharp is your mind?”

  “I read all that I can get my hands on, and engage the rest of my quiet time with writing in a journal. I work on improving my vocabulary, and on my expression with words.”

  She thought about this for a moment. “That letter you wrote me.”

  “Oh, I am sorry!” I exclaimed. “I had nearly forgotten about it. You must have thought me very bold. Please forgive me if it was very impertinent.”

  “It was,” she said, though not unkindly. “However, I was grateful for it. You gave me information I might otherwise have been ignorant of that pertained most keenly to my sister and her happinessor unhappiness, as was the case at the time.”

  “I, I simply thought you should know.”

  “Thank you.”

  We stood there a moment in silence.

  Finally, I said, “And yet, you still have not answered my question about why you have come to the stables if you do not generally ride.”

  She looked puzzled for a moment. “I do not know. Elizabeth told me there was something out here I might like to see, but I do not know what she was referring to. I suppose I should go ask her what she meant.”

  “Wait, before you do. Come take my advice and ride out with me a little.” A scheme between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth seemed to be in the works. “Mr. Darcy has asked me to exercise his horse Gabriel, so I know he would not mind if I took him out for a while. And your father has some gentle looking animals here that he must keep for the use of his daughters.”

  “Yes, when one of us wants to ride, usually Jane, we are to take Daisy here.” She went to a sweet and older-looking mare in a nearby stall and stroked her neck. The horse whinnied with pleasure.

  “Then let us go for an airing. The horses will enjoy it, and I daresay, so will we.”

  She looked around doubtfully. “I am not sure I will not be wanted at the house.”

  “Are you wanted at the house?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She gave me a slight smile, and in that moment, the usual sternness of her expression gave way to lightness and beauty. “No, I usually am not.”

  “Then let us go.”

  I prepared her horse for her, and helped her on. I mounted Gabriel and we rode off across a field. The day was warm, a perfect late summer afternoon. Wildflowers bloomed all around us and their scent was heady. The sky was a brilliant blue, yet there was a softness to the air. I tried not to stare at her as we went. Her skin was like porcelain, her eyes the color of that very sky. Her hair matched the tawny hue of the roan horse she rode. Was the pink upon her cheeks from the sun, the exercise, or her pleasure in being with me?

  “I have to say, Mr. Jones”

  “Please, call me Christopher. And may I please call you Mary? I know we do not know each other well, but I do not think such formalities are necessary between us.”

  She smiled that slight smile again. “Very well, Christopher. I was going to say that this is quite enjoyable, being out here in the fresh air, receiving the benefits of the sunshine.”

  “Yes. It is most healthful.”

  We rode on a little while in silence.

  “How do you feel about your sister marrying Mr. Darcy?” I inquired.

  “How do I feel?” She seemed surprised by the question, as if no one ever bothered to ask her how she felt about anything. “I am happy for her.”

  “And your opinion of her choice in husbands?”

  “I must say, I was surprised at first, as were we all. But she has assured me that she loves him, and that he is a good man. He seems to have softened a bit in his manners since they became engaged, and I feel ever so slightly more at ease around him, though to tell you the truth, the loftiness of his personage rather terrifies me.”

  I laughed though I wasn’t sure she meant to be funny. “To be honest, there were times when I did not like the way he behaved concerning certain matters. But since serving as his groom, I have come to feel differently about him. I can vouch for him being a very kind master, and…perhaps…almost consider him a friend if two people in our very different stations in life can be friends. I do know he has acted, is acting, as a friend to me.”

  “How extraordinary, Christopher! Has he really been so very good to you?”

  “He really has.”

  “Then my opinion of him has risen higher still.”

  “In the same way it is extraordinary that Mr. Darcy and I are friends, of a sort, some might say it is extraordinary that he and your sister have reconciled their rather different stations in life, to become husband and wife.”

  “I agree.”

  “So you agree that people of different classes can, sometimes, overcome their prejudices, and that of society’s, to find happiness together?”

  “And yet my sister and he are not altogether of a different class. Elizabeth, after all, is the daughter of a gentleman.”

  “I am no longer speaking of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.”

  She looked at me with her eyes wide, her face very serious. “What are you speaking of, Christopher?”

  I slowed Gabriel to a halt and she stopped Daisy as well. I took a deep breath, and then I said it. “I am talking about you and me.”

  “You and…me?”

  “I don’t know if you caught the allusion in my letter. But I will say it now. I care for you, Mary, I have since the first moment I saw you.”

  The color rose higher in her face. “I don’t know what to say,” she murmured.

  I dismounted from my steed, and secured him to a nearby tree. I then led her horse there, and tied her too. I put my hands around Mary’s waist and helped her down. We stood there for a moment, with my hands still upon her. And then I kissed her. She did not refuse me.

  “Christopher,” she said at last, softly, “a romance between us cannot be possible. You must not take advantage of my weakness in this moment. We could never be together.”

  “Why not?”

  “As I said, I am a gentleman’s daughter.”

  “And I am to be made Mr. Bingley’s stablemaster and I will soon have a house of my own. The stablemaster’s cottage at Netherfield is to be for my own use. I am to take possession of it once it can be fixed up and made into a comfortable home, but it is a sweet cottage. Just the place for a newly wedded couple.”

  “Christopher, what are you saying? Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “No,” I smiled. “Not yet. But once I can prove to your father that I can care for you, I will. Would you refuse me?”

  “I don’t know. I cannot think. My younger sister has just made the most imprudent match. My father is still furious from it, though his ire has been softened by the recent engagements of Jane and Lizzy to two such gentlemen as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. And my mother is now to be so full of pride from those two impending marriages, that she would see my engagement to you as so very far beneath our family, even though Lydia is married to an absolute rogue. I am afraid neither of my parents would ever agree to it.”

  “But if they did, you would have me?” Before she could answer, I took her in my arms and kissed her again. I could feel her give in to me. Her lips were so sweet, her body so warm in my embrace.

  “Yes, Christopher,” she gasped. “I would have you.”

  “Then I have a secret to tell you,” I whispered.

  She looked up at me in surprise.

  “Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy told me they would help me win you. They are on our side.”

  “Oh! That is why Elizabeth told me to go to the stables!”

  “Yes,” I smiled.

  She stiffened for a moment, indignation threat
ening to take hold of her. She took a small step backwards. “Why would they do this for you? Merely out of Mr. Darcy’s regard for you?”

  “I think he would do it for this reason, yes. But there is another reason too…though, I’m not sure I should say.”

  “What is it? If I am to be your wife” And then she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “I cannot believe I said that.”

  “Go on,” I urged.

  “If I am to be your wife,” she giggled slightly, “we can have no secrets.”

  Joy bubbled up in me, but I said, “It is not my secret to tell. I must ask Mr. Darcy if I may reveal it before I do.”

  “I am most curious, but I understand. And it is honorable of you not to share another man’s secret.”

  “If I am to do anything in life, it is to make myself worthy of you.”

  “I am not used to being held in such high esteem.”

  “Then it is time that you become used to it because no one could honor you, or love you, more than I.”

  There was that sweet smile again. “We should return to the stables,” she said shyly.

  “Anything you say. I am your willing servant.”

  “No,” she said, taking me hand. “You are my equal.”

  And we kissed one more time before riding back to Longbourn.

  Chapter 12

  I’ve seen Christopher just once in the last two weeks. He sent word with Mr. Bingley, since he and Mr. Darcy are here nearly all of the time now, to meet him at my tree at an appointed time. I slipped away without anyone noticing, my heart beating fast. Before Charles delivered the message to me, I kept wondering if what had passed between he and I had been real or merely a dream. I replayed the conversation, and the kisses, over and over in my head. At first, I wondered if I had been no better than Lydia, letting a man kiss me before we were engaged. And yet that circumstance followed so soon after our first kiss, I decided that I had been appropriately virtuous after all. And now, I can’t stop thinking of kissing him. Never, ever, did I expect to feel this way about a man. And now I have my own, my dear one, and I am to be his wifethat is, if Father and Mother will ever approve.