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

by Georgina Young-Ellis

  And so I went to meet him at my tree. He had come on foot and arrived before me. As I approached, he came to me and swept me into his arms, kissing me passionately. Oh, my heart nearly stopped and my knees threatened to give way beneath me! We then sat upon the thick branch, hand in hand as we conversed.

  “The cottage will be ready for you to see in another week’s time. Oh, Mary, it will be charming. It is bigger than one thinks of a cottage being, with a large parlour for receiving guests, and a smaller one, just for us. There is a dining room, and a well equipped kitchen with a breakfast room just off it. Behind the kitchen are two rooms for the servants, and upstairs are three spacious bedrooms, plus space for a children’s playroom in the attic.” (At this I blushed.) “To think, Mary, I will be master of my own home, and you will be mistress. We will keep a maid and a cook, and that should be sufficient for our needs, I think. I hope the situation will not be too modest for you.”

  “Not at all!” I cried. “It sounds like just the place to make me happy. Will our income indeed be sufficient to employ help?”

  “Yes. Mr. Bingley has made the terms of my post most generous. Perhaps such would not be the case if I were not marrying his sister-in-law, but I believe we will be most comfortable. I will buy a horse for us too, and eventually, two or more, and perhaps a phaeton for us to roam about the countryside in. I can use the stables at my leisure.”

  “When can I see the cottage?”

  “Not yet. Give me time to clean it well and arrange the furniture. Much of it belongs to the cottage, and though some is a bit rustic, we can purchase more before we move in. You will want to add your touches, of course. It will not be complete until the lady of the house makes it her home.”

  I smiled. “There may be some furniture that Mother and Father will be happy to part with, especially from my sisters’ rooms, and mine. They, for certain, will need none of it.”

  “Perfect,” he declared.

  “But how will we make the engagement known to my parents? I am frightened of what they may say, that they may even refuse altogether to give their consent.”

  “Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley have assured me they will use all of their influence to convince them. That, plus the approval of your sisters, and your parents’ desire for your happiness, should be enough.”

  “I’m not sure my happiness is really at the forefront of my parents’ minds. I think they would be happy for me to be married if the situation was adequate. They would never expect me to make the kind of match my sisters have, but they would be glad if I was, at least, disposed of satisfactorily.”

  “Disposed? That is not a very pretty word.”

  “I do not think I am feeling sorry for myself when I say I believe I am the least valued of my sisters.”

  “You will always be the most valued to me, my darling.”

  He took me in his arms and I felt so comforted. I truly feel it is where I belong. We were so happy there together, speaking of our future, that I forgot to ask him if Mr. Darcy had given his consent to tell me about his secret. But there is plenty of time for that in the future.

  Another week passed in which I didn’t see Christopher at all. Finally, Jane came to me with a message.

  “Christopher says the cottage is ready for you to see. He says it is not quite ready to be moved into, but clean and organized enough to view. He is so excited to show it to you, Mary!”

  “Have you seen it?”

  “I have not. At any rate, Lizzy tells me she has a plan for presenting your engagement to our parents.”

  My heart beat fast at the thought.

  “She says that we are all to meet at an appointed time at the cottage, and bring our parents with us. We will tell them that Charles has a surprise for them. Then, at that very moment, they will meet Christopher, they can see what a good situation he can provide for you, they can see that the marriage is sanctioned by us and by Lizzy and Fitzwilliam, and they surely will give their consent.”

  “And what if they do not? I cannot defy them and marry him without their approval. It will estrange me from them and I cannot bear that.”

  “Then let us hope for the best,” said Jane. “Surely with us all on your side, they will relent.”

  She gave me a squeeze of the hand and went away. She is so happy, and has so much on her mind, that perhaps she is not thinking this situation through thoroughly. I am entirely not used to thinking of my own happiness, either now or in the future, that I am beside myself with anxiety. Yet, there is only one thing we can do, and that is to try their plan. I cannot think of a better one.

  On the fixed day and time, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth came to the cottage with Jane and Mr. Bingley. They were thrilled to see what I had done, and roamed around through the rooms, exclaiming about what could be done here and there to further improve it. Then, there was a knock upon the door and my heart froze in my chest. This would be Mary and her parents. I could hear them talking loudly without.

  “What on earth are we doing at this shabby little cottage?” I could hear Mary’s mother saying.

  “I am telling you,” replied Mary. “We are meeting Jane and Charles here. They have got a surprise for us.”

  “What on earth would they be doing in a place like this? Why, Jane should never set foot in such a hovel, either as the future Mrs. Bingley or not.”

  “Mother, please,” Mary said, and I could tell she was exasperated.

  The two couples gathered near me in the entry way and I went to open the door.

  “Hello,” I said to Mary’s parents, “I am Christopher Jones.”

  Before either could respond, Mary joined me by my side.

  “I ask your consent to marry your daughter,” I said quickly, without having thought of a more tactful introduction.

  “What?” her mother cried. “Lizzy, Jane, what have you to do with this? Who is this person?”

  Mr. Bingley stepped forward. “He is my stablemaster. And he has been a loyal groom and friend to Fitzwilliam while he was at Rosings last spring, and beyond.”

  “A stablemaster?” Mrs. Bennet declared. “A stablemaster? And a groom? Mary, what can you mean? This person is so far beneath you he deserves no notice at all! Have you completely taken leave of your senses? And Jane, Lizzy, you have not told me why you are here, apparently approving of this ridiculous scheme.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, please, perhaps I can offer some clarity,” Mr. Darcy said, stepping forward. “Lizzy told me that she told you, Mr. Bennet, and now you will know ma’am, that I had something to do with finding Mr. Wickham in London and persuading him to marry Lydia.”

  “Had something to do with it!” cried Elizabeth, “Why, you had everything to do with it.”

  “Elizabeth, wait a moment,” he said gently. “Let me explain. Christopher here was key in persuading certain parties to reveal Wickham and Lydia’s whereabouts to me. Without him, I might never have found them.”

  Mary gasped in astonishment.

  “Well, that is very noble of him, I am sure,” said Mr. Bennet, who heretofore had remained silent. “And I thank him. But for that, I do not owe him my daughter.”

  “Father,” Mary said to him. “I love Christopher. He will make me happy, does that not mean anything to you?”

  “Your happiness means everything to me, Mary. And that is why I cannot let you marry this young man.”

  The two engaged couples erupted in objections, but Mr. Bennet silenced them with a gesture of his hand.

  “Have you four really thought about what this means for your relationship with Mary?” he said to them. “Will you welcome her and Mr. Jones into your homes, to dine with you and to meet your relations? He is a servant! She will be a servant’s wife! What, will she eat in the servant’s quarters? Or dine with you while her husband eats there, or stays at home?”

  They all remained silent and I could see they had not thought of this, nor had I. From the way Mary looked down at her feet, her face etched in sadness, I could tell perhaps sh
e had.

  “This is preposterous,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “I feel as if I have been made the object of a terrible joke. And the four of you,” she said, pointing at the future Bingleys and Darcys, “have lost all your reason. Love has deprived you of your senses and made you giddy.”

  “I am afraid I must agree with my wife,” Mr. Bennet said. “This is not a fairy tale where the woodsman turns out to be an enchanted prince. You have all let your fancy for romance run away with you. I am sorry, young man,” he said to me, “I cannot give my consent. If I did, my daughter would be lost to me forever, and to her sisters as well. I am done allowing my daughters to be embroiled in imprudent marriages. I learned my lesson with Lydia. And besides that, I do not believe you are truly in love, Mary.”

  “But I am!” she cried.

  My heart nearly broke in two at that moment.

  “No. You only believe you are because you have never had the notice of any other man. Someday, a worthy suitor will come for you. But until then, you will go home with us, and there you will remain. I again blame myself and your mother for not keeping a closer eye on you, for somehow, you fell in with this person when we were not being vigilant, and so, for my neglect, I apologize. But you, of all people, Mary, I thought I could trust to show better judgment. Now come. We are going home.”

  He held out his hand to her, and she, like an obedient daughter, took it.

  “Mary, no!” I cried.

  “Leave her alone,” spat her mother. “I hope never to lay eyes on you again. A stablemaster! Really!” And with that, she grasped Mary’s other hand and pulled her out the door.

  Mr. Bennet made a bow to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, and turned and left with her.

  The rest of us stood there in stunned silence for a moment.

  “Christopher,” Mr. Darcy finally said. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Father and Mother are wrong,” Elizabeth declared. “We will fix this.”

  “Thank you,” I said to her and the others, “for all you have done to help me. But they are right.”

  “No, Christopher, don’t say that,” cried Jane.

  “And yet they are,” I continued. “I never thought far enough ahead to consider how much my marriage to Mary would degrade her. You cannot deny it; if she married me, she would cease to be your equal.”

  They all looked at each other. No one spoke.

  “Please,” I said, “let me be alone. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf. I must think now, what to do. There is nothing more you can do for me.”

  They each expressed their sorrow and regrets in turn, and then they left. I stood in one place and looked around the room for a long time. I felt as if my life were over. It seems I stood in that place for hours, thinking. Finally, I made a decision, and formed a plan. I went to the servant’s entrance of Netherfield, and asked to have Mr. Bingley summoned. When he came, I thanked him with all my heart for his generosity towards me, and resigned my post. I asked him if I could buy a horse from him, an old fellow that wasn’t much needed in his stables any longer. Mr. Bingley offered to give him to me but I insisted on paying him something so he gave me a very good price. On my humble steed, with all my belongings in my satchels and all my money in my pocket, I left Hertfordshire, uncertain when I would return again, but determined that I would.

  Chapter 13

  A year has passed since my engagement to Christopher was broken off, and I have not heard a word from him. Nor have I had the slightest desire to write down my thoughts on what has passed, for life has gone on for everyone but me. However, I will make a notation now to mark the passing of the time.

  Jane and Lizzy were married in a double ceremony last Christmas. It was a beautiful, though simple occasion, at our parish church, with a splendid wedding breakfast afterwards at Netherfield. I never went to Netherfield after that. Though Charles so thoughtfully offered me the use of his pianoforte there, I haven’t had the desire to leave the house, nor, really, to play the piano at all, though I dutifully practice at home. Kitty visited there often, and has been to Pemberley, as have my parents, to visit Elizabeth, but I chose not to go. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and the children came to stay with me during their absence. Father said he arranged this so that I would not be lonely, but, in truth, I am sure he does not trust me. Perhaps he thought Christopher would come and whisk me away in his absence, or I would run away to find him, but he needn’t have worried. I do not know where Christopher has gone, and do not expect to ever see him again.

  Anyway, recently, Jane and Charles gave up Netherfield and moved to Derbyshire to be closer to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. (I still don’t feel right calling him Fitzwilliam.) Maybe someday I will go visit them all in that area of the country, but I have no desire to go visiting at the moment, and see the happy couples in their wonderful new lives. Do not misunderstand. I do not begrudge them their happiness. I could not be more joyful that they have found such love and security. They write me often, and I can tell that they both try not to sound too happy for my sake, but I know they are, and am glad for them. Jane is expecting a child so perhaps I will go after the baby is born. Both Lizzy and Jane expressed such regret that my engagement to Christopher was so abruptly ended, but, in the end, both admitted that perhaps Father was right, that they had been caught up in the romance of the moment, and that it could not have been a proper match for me.

  It does not matter. There will be no match for me, and I am satisfied with that. I am happy that I have known love, and I will always love Christopher, until the end of my days. I will never marry. No one can be what he is to me. My predictions for myself have come true. I will be a spinster, and I will take care of Mother and Father until they die. At least now though, we have no fear of being turned out in the cold when Father dies, because we will always have a home with Jane or Lizzy, if they do not mind their old, spinster sister living with them. Maybe Kitty will marry brilliantly too, and there will be a third option, though she’s never really liked me.

  Lydia remains Lydia. She and Wickham are always struggling for money, and now they have a baby to provide for too. I know, because I heard Mother and Father whispering about it, that both Lizzy and Jane send her money, which is most kind. None of us have seen her since her marriage, and she writes sporadically.

  I spend my days reading and studying. Why do I continue to improve myself? I have no idea. No one cares what I think or say, though I do admit, Father and I have become closer, and he sometimes asks me to read to him. He doesn’t much care to hear my philosophies on this and that so I keep them to myself, but at least, since his refusal of my marriage to Christopher, he has been kind to memore fatherly than he ever was before. I do go for frequent walks, keeping in mind Christopher’s admonition about exercise, and even go riding, which I enjoy more and more, but only in the company of Father or a servant. He does not let me go out alone. In the meantime, Mother dotes on Kitty, but my sister has improved in disposition since spending so much time in the rational company of our two eldest siblings.

  At night, I dream of Christopher. I smell his scent of hay and wood smoke. I feel his lips upon mine, his strong arms around me. I see his brown eyes brighten in an imagined sunlight, and in my mind’s eye, see myself brush his hair away from his face. I hear his laughter, his sweet voice. I know that with him, I would have become a more lively person. He would have improved my sense of humor, and my outlook. I would have encouraged him with his own studies, and we would have had great conversations about all manner of things. I would have lived with him in the cottage, even after Jane and Charles moved away, because the stablemaster often remains with the stable that belongs to the house, rather than with the master. I would have become the writer I always meant to be, because now, I haven’t the inspiration. I wouldn’t have cared if I could ever visit my sisters or be their equals, and if my parents chose to disown me, I wouldn’t care about that either. He and I would have been happy, and independent, raising our family, and living our own
lives. I care nothing for station, or class, or importance. It would have been enough for me to have love.

  Almost another year gone by. Jane’s baby (Cassandra) is now six months old, and I have been persuaded to go see her. Lizzy is also expecting now, so perhaps it is a good time, to see her while she’s in the bloom of impending motherhood, to see my little niece, and to see how the two happy families are settling into their homes. We will all go together, Kitty, Mother and Father, and I, though they have already been to see the baby. Autumn is a beautiful time to visit that region, I have heard, though I have never been anywhere outside our little parish here. We will pass through London and stay with my uncle and aunt for a night, and so it will be exciting to finally see that city as well. A type of contentment has settled upon me. I don’t think of Christopher as much as I used to, for what’s the purpose in it? I used to look for letters from him, but I doubt he would be so bold to send any, knowing Father would be looking out for such a thing, and I’m sure would have intercepted them. No, there is no use dwelling upon him any longer. I’m happy for my sisters and happy that I am to be included in their lives.

  And so, off we went after much packing and preparation, for we were to stay in Derbyshire a month. London was a fascinating place, and it was a joy to see my little cousins, though they have grown so much since last I beheld them. There wasn’t time to see much of the city, so I had to take in all that I could from the carriage window, but it was enough to make me realize that I prefer the country and all its quiet pleasures. I would not be one for city life, though I am intrigued at the idea of seeing concerts and plays. Now that I am a traveler, I will plan to come back to visit Uncle and Aunt and to enjoy what cultural pleasure the town has to offer. Father does not hound my every footstep now. I think he has learned to trust me, and realized that he effectively drove Christopher off, never to return. He even mentioned that he would let me go stay with the Gardiners, and that, under their care, I could be introduced into their small, London society. I think he thinks it’s time for me to meet a beau, though I have no desire to do so.