by Beth Massey
Elizabeth watched as he climbed the stairs. She followed him up the staircase at a distance, in fear of continuing their encounter. Her apprehension was unjustified as his long legs allowed him to reach Georgiana’s room just as she reached the top of the stairs. He knocked and someone allowed him entrance. When the door was closed, she entered her room to fetch Lady Anne’s pink shawl. She had not brought another one, so she was forced to wear his mother’s. Somehow she felt it inappropriate, but the weather did look as if she needed something more than her pelisse. Once she had the garment, she quickly hurried back downstairs and outside in the hopes she would encounter no one. She needed to be alone.
She walked several times around the perimeter of the square. As long as she continued to walk and occupy herself with counting windows, she delayed thinking of her situation. When thoughts would intrude during her numerical endeavour, she would soon become overwhelmed by the hopelessness of her situation and return to counting. Finally she knew she could delay no longer. On the Blessing House side of the park, she found a bench in a patch of sun. The windy weather meant very few were in the park. A group of young boys were pursuing the spring occupation of kite flying on this autumn day. No one else was about. After about three quarters of an hour, and shortly after she sat to begin her contemplation; Mr Darcy walked past her bench on his way to Blessing House. He tipped his hat, but said nothing. She noticed he used his left hand rather than his right for this gesture.
She concluded that the swagger in his walk indicated he knew she would have to concede. Surely he had raised her father’s concerns about their conduct to warn her she would, indeed, be forced to marry him. Once again, he had been trifling with her by informing her of his refusal to admit their guilt to her father… insufferable man. She forced herself to admit his look had not been one of smug satisfaction. He had looked angry, and before that she had seen defeat and bitterness on his countenance. Where could she go to escape the fate of a loveless marriage?
The boys’ kites were up and soaring in the brisk breeze. Though he had said many times he loved her, he surely did not mean those words. Everything had been an elaborate hoax. Did she not have proof he preferred another? She had thought she loved him, but it would be humiliating to reveal those feelings if his words had been a ruse.
She fumed at the arrogance of his parting comment about her fingers. Why did he have to be so skilled? The unfairness of women’s lot in life was turning her thoughts to defeat. There must be a way she could save face. Perhaps she could convince her father she would agree to marry in a month in Hertfordshire. That would give her time to investigate becoming a governess or a companion. If she had employment, she could run away and leave all this doubt and turmoil behind her. Inertia set in with the chill in the air.
20
ELIZABETH MEETS BELLA ON THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS
Fitzwilliam Darcy entered Blessing House and sought out Jon and Lydia. They were in the parlour that faced the square with Lord Blessing, Lady Eleanor and young Dr Parton. Lady Eleanor and Lydia had been describing Lady Catherine’s confrontation with Miss Elizabeth to the earl. Just as they finished, Mr Darcy entered and informed them of Elizabeth’s decision to not wed on Thursday. Before anyone addressed the topic, Dr Parton noticed his hand was wrapped in his handkerchief, and saw blood staining the white linen. “What have you done to your hand?”
Mr Darcy’s voice was emotionless as he spoke, “I was angry, and smashed it into the door connecting my room to the mistress’ chamber. I do not think I broke it, but I did break the skin on my knuckles.”
The doctor left to get supplies. Lydia was the first to speak of his news, “Why is Lizzy always so very contrary about everything? Everybody knows that old lady is just a vicious witch who has to control everything. My friend Maria told me she counselled her sister Charlotte how to organize her closets and raise her chickens, and she instructed Maria and Lizzy how to pack their trunks. I am sorry, Mr Darcy, to speak in such an unkind way about your relative, but I had to put up with my cousin—Mr Collins—talking incessantly about her when he visited. There was not one thing he told us that made her seem as if she had any sense.”
Mr Darcy tried not to imagine Lizzy’s reaction to being told how to pack her trunk. Under other circumstances such thoughts would be enjoyable. He responded to the young woman in the same unfeeling voice he had told of his broken betrothal, “Lydia you do not have to apologize. Everything you say is true.”
It was obvious to all that Lydia was exasperated with her sister, “Where is Elizabeth? I must talk with her. She is going to ruin my wedding. The papers will write of nothing but the wedding that did not take place… nothing about the one that did. No one will notice how beautiful my dress is. It is so unfair.”
Darcy pointed out the window to the bench where she sat.
Lydia put her hands on her hips as she blurted out, “Mr Darcy, I will talk to my stubborn sister. She will not be allowed to spoil the most important day in my life.” With those words she flounced out of the room to don her pelisse, bonnet and gloves.
While Dr Parton tended to Darcy’s hand, the earl took command of the conversation. “Lydia is correct. Miss Elizabeth’s wilfulness will ruin the day for both couples, as well as be an embarrassment for the families involved. However, we must remember, she is just a young woman cowed by someone of greater consequence.” Darcy knew that was not the case, but was content to let others attempt to remedy this disaster. He was certain Lydia would be unsuccessful. He was too mortified to admit to the earl that Elizabeth truly believed he loved another, and that his pursuit of her had been in the interest of a most depraved agenda.
Lord Blessing continued to speak of the situation. “I, for one, refuse to allow Lady Catherine to destroy the happiness of four people in order to exact revenge on me. Dr Parton, I plan to speak with Lady Catherine’s brother, and perhaps together we will be able to stop her intrigue from being successful.” The gaunt man seemed very in control of the situation. His voice had taken on a commanding tone. “My plan is for you to accompany me… just in case. Hopefully, Mr Bennet will be available to join us and participate in our conference. The heads of the families of the two couples must set this disaster to rights. Have notes sent to the Earl of Elderton and Mr Bennet to see if they are available this afternoon. Make sure the messenger waits for a reply. Two would be most satisfactory to me, but I am flexible as I have no other engagements. Darcy listened with some interest to the earl’s plan, but soon he drifted to the window.
The conversation between Lydia and Lizzy seemed heated. Lydia kept jumping up from the bench and shaking her finger at her sister, or putting her hands on her hips and leaning over her sister. Lizzy for her part seemed unperturbed by her sister’s antics. Lydia at one point was explaining something to Elizabeth and pointing to the knuckles on her right hand. He suspected she was telling her of his smashing his fist against the door. Whatever the topic, Elizabeth seemed to exhibit some concern. Next, they sat together on the bench for about ten minutes with neither of them speaking. Finally, in what could only be deemed exasperated defeat, Lydia turned to her sister and delivered one last sentence or two. Her parting words seemed vociferous and Darcy was certain they included several epithets. Lydia left the bench and stormed toward Blessing House.
When she entered the parlour, she said to Darcy, “What an insufferable woman you love. I told her she was a fool and that everybody who sees the way you look at her remarks how strong your feelings for her are. She would not budge, but she did show some concern about your hand.”
Lord Blessing realized he would have to come up with a plan to win Miss Elizabeth as well as dissuading Lady Catherine. “Darcy, did you tell Miss Elizabeth that my sister has sold her business?”
“No, I did not. How would that knowledge help with this situation?”
Jon answered, “Because Bella, Susan and Max are leaving London and opening a bakery in Scarborough.”
Darcy had a bit of hope at Jon’s
revelation. He had never talked of the practical side of her fears. How could he have had such a close relationship with Bella when he was rarely in London and spent most of each year in Derbyshire? If he had been so in love with her, would not he have spent as much time as possible in London to be near her? He looked out the window and wondered whether he should go to her and try, once again, to engage her in a serious discussion. Surely the news of Bella’s retirement would convince her to look more logically at his aunt’s accusation.
The earl pre-empted Darcy’s musings. “Jon, go explain this dilemma to your Aunt Sarah. Tell her of the lies Miss Elizabeth believes. Perhaps she can talk some sense into the girl.”
Darcy thought his lordship’s idea had a great deal of merit. Lady Sarah would be able to answer any question Elizabeth asked, and she should be seen as impartial and not as someone trying to coerce her into marriage.
Lydia and Lady Eleanor returned to Darcy House. Jon had the carriage drop them off on his way to Teasewell House. Neither of the young women wanted to walk across Grosvenor Square with Lizzy still sitting on her bench. An hour ago Darcy had been filled with rage, but now all he wanted was to go to her and comfort her. She was so small, and she looked cold and lost. As he watched her out the window, he said a prayer that Lady Sarah would be successful.
He knew not how long he sat near the window and stared, but the earl and the doctor left to prepare for their journey. He was alone when he saw Lord Colton’s carriage arrive. He descended and then helped his aunt down. Darcy wondered whether she would come inside to learn the particulars of his argument with Elizabeth. As he was speculating how they would proceed, Lord Colton helped someone else out of the carriage. Oh no, they had brought Bella. Panic began to set in. This was going to be a disaster.
Lord Colton pointed in Elizabeth’s direction, and Bella headed toward the park. Darcy could not take his eyes off the play that was about to begin. He had the best seat in the house to observe these two women spar.
Elizabeth had not paid attention to either Lord Colton’s leaving or returning. She had watched the young boys fly their kite, and when they departed she watched eddies of leaves dance in the wind. She was very cold but was not ready to face her family. All would be as angry with her as Lydia had been. She had no compassion for Elizabeth’s quandary… all she had cared about was that her wedding would be ruined by her sister’s selfishness. Just when she thought Lydia was maturing, she reverted back to the same silly, selfish, shallow young woman who had thought it a lark to elope with Wickham.
The sun that was her only defence against the cold was suddenly blocked by an approaching figure. She looked up to see a very beautiful woman walking toward her. When near enough, Lizzy observed that she was older than she was. Her guess was that she was at least as old as Charlotte or Will.
She stopped when she got to the bench and took a seat. In annoyance, Elizabeth looked around and saw at least five empty benches. With all the benches in the park, why did this woman have to sit on the one that was already occupied?
She sat without speaking for a few moments—staring straight ahead. Next she turned her body toward Lizzy as she said, “Why are you sitting on this bench in such inclement weather?”
Elizabeth sighed. Not only had this woman chosen to sit down on the same bench with her, but now she was going to force conversation. They had never been properly introduced, and yet she had the audacity to question her. Displeasure coloured her sarcastic answer, “I am waiting for a conversion.”
The woman laughed at her answer. She even seemed to enjoy being the object of Lizzy’s annoyance. “Ah, I see this bench is your road to Damascus.”
Lizzy continued with her mocking tone, “You are perhaps a biblical scholar, come to educate me?”
The woman acted completely unperturbed by Lizzy’s derision. “No, I am not, but I am very knowledgeable of the stories in the bible. For most of my youth it was practically the only book I read.”
It seemed to Elizabeth that she would be unable to escape a discussion with this woman, so she proceeded to determine the reason for her encroachment. “Why are you sitting on this bench in such inclement weather?”
The woman captured Lizzy’s gaze and held it before she began to speak. “My name is Isabel Thornfield. I am Bella. It is my hope you might be willing to talk with me. Mrs T… umm… Lady Sarah and Lord Colton told me you have been told some information that is untrue about my involvement with Mr Darcy.”
Her answer caused a renewal of Elizabeth’s hostility. She was barely able to refrain from spitting out her next question. “Did he send you?”
Bella was not offended by her anger and calmly replied, “If you mean Mr Darcy—No. As I told you, Lady Sarah and Lord Colton requested I come here.”
Lizzy sneered her next question, “Why should I believe a woman, such as you, would tell me the truth?”
Bella was not in the least bit ruffled by her tone. “What kind of woman do you know me to be?”
“You are a woman who sells her body to men.”
“You are correct, but does that make me unable to tell the truth?”
Bella’s guileless quizzical gaze was disconcerting to Elizabeth, but she continued with her accusations, “You are a woman of loose morals. I am certain you were never given a proper understanding of propriety, and that is why you resorted to such a depraved life.”
Bella was unaffected, “Do you not think it possible to learn moral behaviour from reading the bible?”
Elizabeth was confused by her question. “Perhaps… how did you come to spend so much time reading the bible?”
Bella released her hold on Elizabeth’s eyes. She turned forward and began to relate a tale. “I read it to my brothers and sisters. I was the oldest of ten children. My father was a parson and did not have money to hire anyone to care for them. The youngest ones had a nurse, but the older ones were my responsibility. There were no books for children in our home, so I read to them from the bible. Many of the stories are quite entertaining, and I learned to change the words to make it easier for them to understand. One story I remember was about Jesus forgiving a fallen woman. I believe her occupation was the same as mine.”
Lizzy was properly chagrined by Bella’s subtle admonishment, “You are correct. I apologize for rushing to judge you without thinking. How did a parson’s daughter end up in a brothel?”
Bella resumed telling her life’s tale. “I was tricked by the local Squire to elope with him to Gretna Green. The marriage he arranged was not valid. We were together for several months, and I became with child. By that time, he was tired of me… and he had never had any intention of accepting the obligation of marriage and fatherhood. The sham marriage was disclosed, and he brought me to London and abandoned me at Mrs Teasewell’s.”
Bella took it as a good sign when Miss Elizabeth giggled at the name. “Who is Mrs Teasewell?”
“That is the name Lady Sarah uses for her business. I lost the baby, and I have been working at Teasewell House for the past twelve years.”
Elizabeth’s animosity had diminished for the time being, and curiosity seemed to have replaced it. “Your squire’s trick is the same as one described in Oliver Goldsmith’s The Vicar of Wakefield.”
Bella smiled with the direction of their conversation. She began the process of letting Elizabeth know the nature of their relationship. “Mr Darcy told me the same thing twelve years ago. He also told me recently that the two of you had argued over the literary merits of that novel.”
“He did?”
Bella’s smile broadened in response to the look of incredulity on Miss Elizabeth’s face. “Yes, he also told me your premise was that Mr Goldsmith had been purposely poking fun at notions of sin and morality, and the contrived happy ending made it a worthy satire. He told me you won him away from his long held view that it was just a sentimental novel portraying the innate goodness of human beings.”
Lizzy stared at Bella in amazement. She had no idea why he would
have told her of their talks about books of all things. “He told you of our literary discussions?”
Bella seemed not to notice that Elizabeth had been disconcerted by her revelation. Her tone was matter-of-fact as she continued, “Oh yes, he told me how much he enjoyed debating books with you. But he only went into detail about that exchange. He knew I would be especially interested in that particular one, as it held so much relevance to my life. At the beginning of our acquaintance, he found much humour in the notion it would have been better had I read The Vicar of Wakefield rather than the bible. Upon reflection, I think I prefer my life at Teasewell House to either living at home or as a squire’s wife.”
Bella turned and smiled conspiratorially at Elizabeth as she spoke. “When I finally read the novel, I laughed at his solution for a happy ending for Olivia. Though to this day, I am unsure whether he was serious or the ending was satire. He was a man and perhaps he was unaware of the irony of such an ending from a woman’s point of view.” Bella shrugged her shoulders and seemed to be pondering Elizabeth’s literary thesis. She chuckled as she continued, “It would not have been my desire to be wed for life to the man who had tricked me. Besides my squire was an incredibly poor lover. Despite being an unrepentant womanizer with plenty of practice, it never entered his head that his partner might want to enjoy the coupling.”
“But you would have been respectable.”
There was an edge of censure in Bella’s voice, “Miss Elizabeth, would you accept a proposal with nothing but respectability to recommend it?”
Elizabeth knew she had, indeed, turned down such a proposal from Mr Collins. She was prompted to answer truthfully, “No, I would not. Would not your father have found a place for you without you being forced to degrade yourself in a brothel?”
Bella returned to her story telling voice. “My father was very severe. Had I gone home to ask for help; he would have turned me away. Truth be told, I was glad to be out of my father’s house. Taking care of his children had been my lot since my mother’s death. I was ten when she died giving birth. My father never showed any affection for his children… or his wives. I carried out my duties, but I yearned for a life less full of obligations… one with a bit of frivolity. At the time, the squire’s attentions seemed to offer that relief, but in reality it was just another man using me to satisfy his needs. My father forced me to care for his children, and the squire wanted the thrill of taking a virgin. I have made my life satisfying men’s needs and have been paid for those services. Lady Sarah takes very good care of the women at Teasewell House, and I have been able to save enough money to retire now that she has sold the business.