Mr Darcy's Miracle at Longbourn

by Rose Fairbanks

  “Pardon my mistake,” Darcy said.

  His lips twitched slightly, and Mrs. Gardiner could see that he only needed a little liveliness from his wife to be perfectly amiable. She looked forward to seeing Elizabeth loosen his stiff formality.

  “And how would you introduce yourself?” Mrs. Gardiner asked the colonel.

  “Hmm,” he said and stroked his jaw. “How about Defender of the Kingdom, Slayer of Old Boney’s Finest, Trainer of Puppy Whelps in Breeches, His Majesty’s Last Great Hope, and Her Majesty’s Best Seated Dragoon Guard?’”

  They all laughed, and when Mrs. Gardiner caught her breath, she said, “It is a bit of a mouthful.”

  “Then I will settle for the incomparable Mary Bennet’s betrothed.” He reached for Mary’s hand and kissed it.

  Mary blushed furiously, but Mrs. Gardiner could not contain her smile.

  “This is why we all love him,” Lizzy said. “He is so good to our Mary.”

  Darcy frowned.

  “What?” Lizzy asked as they made their way to seats around the room.

  “I do not think he liked you saying you love his cousin, my dear,” Mr. Gardiner observed with a laugh. “Mr. Darcy, if you can stand to be separated from my niece, I would like to ask you about fishing in the Derbyshire district. My wife and I planned to journey there this summer.”

  “Indeed. A topic which delights me. While leaving Miss Elizabeth’s side is no extreme hardship for me, and I daresay a recourse from sure vexation on her side, perhaps she would accompany me in the conversation to hear more of her future home?”

  During his speech, Elizabeth’s expression vacillated between humour, annoyance, and laughter mixed with joy. Bravo, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Gardiner thought. Elizabeth needed a man who would keep her on her toes. As much as she enjoyed teasing and displaying her wit, she needed a man who would match her.

  “What glad tidings you all have brought us!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed. “Now, I should like to hear all about it, beginning with Mary.”

  She began to make her way to her niece, but Mrs. Bennet interrupted her. “There will be time for such talk later. Dinner is to be served now; I saw Mrs. Hill motioning to me.”

  Mrs. Gardiner bided her time, knowing that her sister-in-law had never been able to keep a secret. During the meal, while she was increasingly impressed with each of her nieces’ beaus, she wondered at the stark differences she observed in Lydia and Mrs. Bennet. Jane, Lizzy, and Mary behaved as she guessed they might when in love, assisted by the fact that a loving couple would be energised by the presence of another. In her estimation, Kitty was the only one acting as she usually did.

  After eating, the ladies separated from the gentlemen. Mrs. Bennet had sent Miss Darcy, Lydia, and Kitty to check on the children in the nursery, allowing them privacy with the engaged girls.

  “What strangeness has befallen this house?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, getting to the point immediately. “Sister, you and Lydia are subdued. I can understand the reason you three are happy, but how did you become engaged so quickly?”

  After a moment of silent communication between them, Lizzy began spinning a fantastical tale. It was only when Mary presented her journal with the extra pages that Mrs. Gardiner could believe the story.

  “And so all but Kitty have come to their senses?” she asked.

  “Yes, and we are at a loss to understand what might serve as her epiphany,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I confess that I did not know my girls as well as I should.”

  “That is perhaps understandable,” Mrs. Gardiner said and squeezed her sister-in-law’s hand. “I had always thought Kitty felt very insecure.”

  Her three nieces exchanged looks between them. Yes, insecurity was quite the family failing, and each had suffered so privately that they had not considered whether anyone else felt like them.

  “I think she needs reassurance that she is accepted and loved. She does not need to prove herself.”

  “What would she need to prove herself for?” Jane asked.

  “In families as large as yours, it is common for each child to become known for one quality. Jane is described as the beautiful one. Lizzy is witty, and Mary is studious. Lydia is lively. What claim does Kitty have? I understand it all too well.”

  “I had never thought of it in such a way,” Lizzy said.

  “Nor I,” Mary and Jane echoed at the same time.

  “The poor dear!” Mrs. Bennet sniffed.

  “Now, what is being done about this Mr. Wickham?” Mrs. Gardiner redirected the conversation.

  “Papa and Mr. Bingley spoke with the colonel of his regiment yesterday,” Jane said. “Well, in our yesterday. We hoped we might wake to Christmas Eve, but it is the twenty-third once more.”

  “Allow me to speak with your uncle. I feel we should be able to contribute in some way.”

  Mrs. Gardiner left the drawing room and knocked on the dining room door, asking for her husband.

  “Edward, they have told me the most incredible story!” She twisted her hands, uncertain he would believe her.

  “I suppose it is very like the one I heard about repeating days and alternate realities?”

  “Yes! Do you believe them?”

  “What else could explain the madness we have witnessed?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a smile. “But what about this Wickham? Perhaps if we can assist them in some way regarding him, we might help the calendar turn? I do not care to be stuck in a time loop simply because we journeyed to Meryton.”

  “No, I would not either,” Mr. Gardiner agreed. “What can I do?”

  “Purchase his Meryton debts. Together, you and Darcy can present him with the option of prison or Australia.”

  “I do not know that Darcy will allow me to do such a thing. Do you recall that Lizzy wrote of his arrogance and pride?”

  “Tosh.” Mrs. Gardiner waved her hand. “Lizzy has changed her view of him. I see obstinacy is his real fault. However, if Darcy is the only one to hold his feet to the fire, then Wickham’s hatred will grow. He will forever haunt Darcy’s family. Will he have the energy to hate two men with such fervour?”

  “There is merit in that,” Mr. Gardiner said.

  “Of course, there is. You married a brilliant woman.”

  “That I did,” he laughed. “Well, let us tell Darcy.” He shuffled her into the dining room.

  When they had finished telling Mr. Darcy their suggestion, they awaited his response. They had expected him to argue. He would be justified in hating Wickham forever and wanting to mete out justice personally.

  “A few weeks ago, I would have arrogantly dismissed your offer,” he confessed. “However, I have come to see the benefit of allowing others to help me and the high cost of my loathing him. I have vowed to cease hating the man. Your offer brings me peace like nothing else has. Thank you.”

  As Darcy rose to shake hands with Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner heard a loud ringing sound and grasped her husband’s arm for support.

  I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

  Longbourn

  December 23, 1811

  Kitty awoke the morning before Christmas Eve with a start. She felt she had overslept. Her brain was fuzzy with dreams she could not recall.

  The house seemed quiet and still. Where was all the usual noise? In her seventeen years, not once had she heard silence in the morning. Her mother was always wailing and bemoaning something.

  Scrambling from the bed, she checked the clock. No, she had not awoken very early. Was Mama ill? Lydia had already left the room. How strange!

  Pulling a wrapper on over her nightgown, Kitty stuck her head out the bedroom door. Her mother’s door was open, and the room was empty. Creeping halfway down the stairs, she heard quiet conversation from a drawing room. Lizzy said something that caused a deep voice to lightly chuckle. Who could it be? It did not belong to her father or Uncle Gardiner.

  Quietly slipping back to her room, she readied for the day. As she dressed, she hea
rd the church bells announcing the hour in the distance. At least one thing remained familiar.

  Arriving in the drawing room, Kitty could not contain her surprise at the presence of Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and a third gentleman introduced as Darcy’s cousin. He was a fine enough looking man and an officer in the Horse Guards. Making her way to him, unable to resist a man in uniform, she frowned when he leaned in close and whispered to Mary.

  Strangely, Lydia did not appear enamoured of the man. She acted more sedate than Kitty had ever seen. Recalling her worry for her mother, she found Mrs. Bennet sitting in a corner with needlework, a fond smile on her face and her husband by her side.

  Kitty stood in the middle of the room, mouth agape. No one seemed to notice her, which aside from the Christmas bells was perhaps the only familiar thing about the scene.

  “You must be Miss Kitty,” an unexpected and quiet voice spoke at her side.

  Kitty’s head jerked in the unknown lady’s direction. “Who are you?”

  “Pardon me for not waiting for an introduction, but it seemed everyone else was otherwise occupied.” She waved her hand around the room. “I thought it was forgivable since we are to be sisters.”

  “Sisters!”

  “Yes, my brother will marry your sister.” Laughter danced in her eyes. “I thought a sister to my sister would make us sisters. I look forward to having so many!”

  Kitty blinked at the young lady, who wore impeccable and fashionable clothes and whose beauty rivalled Jane’s. She glanced around the room. Jane sat with Mr. Bingley. A Christmas proposal for them would not be out of the ordinary, but this lady was not one of Bingley’s sisters. Mary was still whispering with the colonel, but Mary getting married? The man was a stranger! And no one cared for the plainest and most awkward Bennet daughter. It was almost as absurd as...Lizzy making love eyes at Mr. Darcy! As she was currently doing!

  Lizzy said something, and Darcy chuckled—the voice Kitty had heard before. He scooped up Lizzy’s hand and kissed it.

  “They will be very happy, I think,” the young lady beside Kitty said and sighed while looking at Lizzy and Darcy.

  Kitty had nearly forgotten about the girl’s presence. “Miss Darcy?” Her voice rose in pitch.

  “The one and only.” She smiled and curtsied. “Well, I suppose there are others with the name, but I mean that I am the only one from Pemberley.” Her brow furrowed. “That sounds arrogant, doesn’t it?” She sighed and continued rambling. “I mean I am Fitzwilliam’s only sister.”

  Nervous laughter erupted from Kitty. This was the girl who Bingley’s sisters touted as an alternative to Jane? Attempting to stifle the laugh, as amazingly everyone else was quiet and well-behaved, it turned to a cough. Suddenly, she felt all eyes upon her.

  “Kitty, are you well?” Mrs. Bennet’s voice came from across the room.

  Relief filled her not to be scolded for once. “No, merely a dry throat.”

  “Have your tea,” Mrs. Bennet said.

  “Will you sit with me?” Miss Darcy asked.

  Kitty agreed and sat quietly as Miss Darcy talked of her pleasure with the Bennet family. The silence and lack of arguing seemed as loud as cannon fire to Kitty. What had happened? Her voice sounded impossibly loud and uncouth compared to the demure actions of everyone else. Once or twice she tried to engage Lydia in laughter but did not succeed. Lizzy did much better with her subtle wit.

  “Perhaps we will have guests for dinner,” Mr. Bennet said.

  Kitty clapped her hands, causing everyone to jump and Mr. Darcy to frown. “Do you expect Colonel Forster? Will he bring other officers? Mr. Wickham would be a lovely dinner companion.” And much livelier than the unrecognisable people before her.

  “Mr. Wickham will never step foot in my house again,” Mr. Bennet boomed and shook the walls as an earthquake might.

  Tears welled in Kitty’s eyes. She had never heard her father so stern or mean before. Heat slapped her cheeks as she considered that everyone listened to her reprimand. He never censured Jane, Lizzy, or Mary. Now Lydia had become a turncoat. They never knew what it was like to feel as unloved as she did.

  “Why not? What did he do but be used by Mr. Darcy?” Kitty bowed her head to hide her embarrassment and tears. “Just because he hates poor Wickham does not mean we must!”

  Beside her, Miss Darcy trembled. For a moment, the room was so quiet that one could hear a hairpin drop. Then Kitty heard boot steps. They paused in front of her.

  “Miss Kitty,” Darcy’s deep voice drew her face up. “I am sorry if your father’s decision has upset you. I do not like Mr. Wickham, but I do not hate him. He has hurt my family and wounded my sister. He plotted against yours.”

  Kitty gasped and looked at Lizzy, whose eyes were shiny. A hand went to her throat, and Kitty could see the red outline of a new scar. Miss Darcy squeezed Kitty’s hand.

  “If he has hurt you as you say,” Kitty said slowly, “then why do you not hate him?”

  “Hate drowns out love,” Darcy said. “And I want to live my life full of love. It is your father’s love which sends him to protect you all from Wickham.”

  Kitty’s bottom lip trembled as her father walked up as well.

  “Forgive me for speaking so harshly,” Mr. Bennet said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What Mr. Darcy says is true. I have been too selfish in the past. I have neglected you, as well as your mother and sisters. That has been my fault, not because of a deficiency in you.”

  “So you do love us all?” Kitty twisted her hands. “Even me?”

  “What would I do without my Kitty?” He pointed at his chest with a finger, covered his heart with both hands, and then pointed at his second youngest daughter.

  “What was that?” Kitty sniffled.

  He smiled. “I know how you love languages. Out of all my daughters, you are the one most gifted in learning foreign tongues.”

  “You always say it is because I never cease talking.”

  “Forgive me for teasing you. The truth is I’m in awe. What if we learn a new language together? You will not have to put up with my poor pronunciation.”

  “How could we do that?”

  Mr. Bennet again pointed to himself, covered his heart, and then pointed at Kitty. “It is a new language I have heard about, created for the deaf.” He did it again. “It says what I struggle to put into words. I love you.”

  “Oh, Papa.” Kitty sobbed and repeated the signs. “It’s beautiful.”

  The church bells chimed again, and Kitty’s vision blurred even as a feeling of peace filled her heart.

  I Saw Three Ships

  London

  December 23, 1811

  Wickham cursed under his breath as the coach brought him closer to the London docks. He had terrible luck before, but he had always counted on Darcy’s need for privacy and his familial pride to save him. It kept Wickham coming back time and time again.

  The strangeness of the repeating days merely allowed him to hone his plans. He kept meticulous notes, and while he had no memories of the events, he had recorded them all. Whatever was going on centred around Darcy and the Bennets. There was only Bennet who could interest Darcy: Elizabeth.

  Wickham had to admit, Darcy had exquisite taste. It was one reason why as children, he always sought to emulate his chum. Elizabeth was a fine specimen of a woman. He could have asked Darcy for anything, and the man would have offered it to him to ensure her safety. Wickham had not expected Elizabeth to act so courageously.

  Of course, even when she did, Wickham triumphed. Darcy had not pursued him. Mr. Bennet had not pressed charges. That he had not been invited to Longbourn again served as enough fact that they had either regained their memories or left their own means of recalling them. Just when he was planning to slip away, Colonel Forster began having him watched constantly. In time, he might have figured out a way to leave the area. However, Wickham had not considered that Darcy would share the information with an outsider. Nor could he have guessed that Elizab
eth Bennet’s London uncle had the means of silencing him.

  This morning, when offered the choice between debtors’ prison and Australia, Wickham eagerly chose the latter. Even more surprising was Darcy’s treatment of him.

  “Why, George?” he had asked quietly.

  He shrugged. “I told you, I felt entitled.”

  “Do you remember that night?”

  “No,” Wickham answered truthfully. “After I fled Longbourn, I returned to my room. You may not guess, but I keep scrupulous notes on things. It’s how I can always fleece people out of money and favours.”

  “By people you mostly mean me.”

  “Not just you.” Wickham shrugged. “You did not get me into the militia.”

  “No, I had quite washed my hands of you and thought you were afraid enough of my reaction to stay away.”

  “I was,” Wickham confessed. “At first. But then you did nothing, as you always do, and I grew comfortable.”

  “That night, though. You seemed crazed.”

  “I had been reading my notes in the morning and growing more confused and desperate by the repeating days. Since I have no memories after December twenty-second, I really cannot say how I felt, but in my journal, I was becoming unhinged.”

  “What has stopped you from acting that way now?”

  “I do not know.”

  Wickham affected a shrug, but the truth was he hated feeling like he had no control over his behaviour and actions. He had often played the victim and claimed to have no control over his destiny and situation in life, but this was far worse. It was as though he had strings attached to him and someone else pulled them.

  “Would you have really hurt her?”

  The smallest remaining sliver of remorse and compassion, of real humanity, in his heart was stung by the feeling in Darcy’s words and the look of mourning that entered his eyes as he thought about the woman he loved dying. At that moment, Wickham felt disgusted with himself for the first time in half his life. Darcy had been his friend and playmate before jealousy reared its ugly head.