Consequence of Jealousy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

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by Aubrey Anderson


  On his ride back to Netherfield, he could not help but direct his gaze back down to his arm where Miss Elizabeth had touched him. A smile touched his lips. Despite her subdued disposition, he had felt the affection in her gentle touch. They were not in love, but it was something similar. The circumstances were not ideal, but he knew they make something of it. A union between two equal minds could produce nothing else.

  ***

  Striding into Netherfield, Fitzwilliam almost felt guilty for the sigh of relief that escaped his breath, as he surveyed the great hall and did not spot Bingley’s sisters. Although he did not mind speaking to Mrs. Hurst, for he enjoyed the few moments of quiet conversation they had early in the mornings as they passed each other, he did not wish to explain himself to Miss Bingley, at the present. Unfortunately, where one was, the other was usually not far away. Fitzwilliam could only imagine her reaction, for she had wasted no time in listing the various faults of the Bennet family when he had previously only professed admiration for Miss Elizabeth. He was not so naive as to believe that she would take the news with more graciousness than she had formerly displayed. Fitzwilliam could only hope to avoid a public discussion during dinner, for there would be no discussion.

  “Charles?” Fitzwilliam called out, as he strode into the oft-abandoned library. The previous owners of Netherfield had apparently cherished their small library, for there was a small sitting room to the side, with a desk and a large enough cabinet to contain various brandy and port, that could also have functioned as a make-do study. The actual study was beyond the library, and was where Charles spent the majority of his time, as Fitzwilliam was proud to say, he took his duties as the potential master of Netherfield very seriously. They had already spent several evenings weighing the beneficial and unfavourable attributes of Netherfield Park, should Charles decide to become its permanent master. Fitzwilliam also encouraged this practice, as did Charles’ sisters, due to the tendre Charles had so openly ignited with Miss Jane Bennet. He knew, eventually, Charles would find a more suitable wife, one that loved him, and in the meantime, he should concern himself with matters of his estate--his legacy.

  “I am in here, Darcy!” came the jovial reply. Fitzwilliam smothered a smile. Ever thankful that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had elected to take their mid-afternoon tea in their own small sitting room, it was only he and Charles that had been in the dining room when news of the rumour involving Miss Elizabeth reached their ears. Of course, Charles had known immediately that the rumour was false, and had offered to speak to various townspeople, but Fitzwilliam had declined. He knew his own reputation within this community, it would do no good, only harm--especially to Miss Elizabeth.

  Although he was aware of his duty, and what honour demanded, he could not help but admit to himself that the thought of marrying Miss Elizabeth was more than pleasant to him.

  “My friend!” Charles exclaimed, as Fitzwilliam came through the door of the study, meeting him so he could shake his hand. “I take it from your expression that all went well? You have put the rumours to rest?” Gesturing for him to sit at one of the chairs near the fire, Charles seated himself across from his friend, and settled himself comfortably.

  Fitzwilliam could not help but smile at his words. He had counted Charles as one of his best friends, barring his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, yet there were still certain attributes that Charles did not comprehend about him, about his character. They were still in the infancy of their friendship, one that Fitzwilliam hoped would extend to the time they left this world.

  “Indeed Charles,” Fitzwilliam intoned almost gravely, although he believed that Charles well understood the humour behind his tone, “Miss Elizabeth and I are engaged, and I will be travelling tomorrow morning to London to meet with my solicitors.”

  At his words, Charles’ eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline, but ended with a large grin on his face, as he jumped out of his seat.

  “I cannot believe it, Darcy! I admit I am surprised, for I thought you would be the first to try and clear the matter up, before proposing marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I suppose Caroline was correct.”

  Fitzwilliam frowned, not knowing how he should take Charles’ words.

  “How else would I have cleared the matter up, Charles?” Fitzwilliam asked, wanting to know truly, how his friend felt about such improprieties.

  Sensing his friend’s change in mood, Charles sat down, and gave his friend what he hoped to be an easy smile. “I suppose I should have known that you were the consummate gentleman, Darcy, but I was merely surprised that you would bind yourself to the Bennets so easily, given that their lack of connections has been all that you and Caroline can agree upon. I am merely surprised. The situation was not like Louisa and Hurst’s, as their marriage was indeed a necessity, given the state that they were found in, but yours and Miss Elizabeth’s was not.” He ended weakly, studying his friend’s face.

  Fitzwilliam nodded, understanding Charles’ point, regarding the marriage of his sister and brother-in-law . “In some respects, you are correct, Charles. And I do believe that were you in the same situation,” although hopefully not with Miss Jane Bennet, as Fitzwilliam believed that Charles would never do anything but bow to the whims of effusive Mrs. Bennet, “you would act as I have done.” Clearing his throat, he continued, “I told Mrs. Bennet on her visit here, some days ago, that the society in the country is unvarying and confined--to which she took great offence. I meant every word of it, as in my twenty-eight years worth of experience, it has never been proven false. My estate is adjacent to a town such as this one, Charles, and the first lesson I learned at my mother’s knee, was the enduring weight given to gossip. Such an unsubstantiated rumour would never have made it past the first round of London gossips, however here it will be spoken of until every person involved has met his Maker. Your sister was correct--I admire Miss Elizabeth, and I am now able to see that we shall be able to make this marriage into something good--but I never would have abandoned Miss Elizabeth, nor any other innocent woman, to her fate. I could hardly call myself a gentleman, had I done anything less.”

  Still, he did not admit that a part of him was glad that he was marrying such a woman, the woman he had desired. He would not have to explain his feelings, he would merely need to state that he was a gentleman.

  At his words, Charles had a slight frown on his face, one that Fitzwilliam could not decipher. He did not understand his friend. Charles had been increasingly showing more and more preference towards Miss Bennet and her family--anything more, and the whole of Meryton would begin to expect a marriage proposal. It was bad enough that the Bennets, barring perhaps Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, were expecting Charles to save their family and raise their social standing. Fitzwilliam firmly pushed down the thought that he was doing the same, knowing that he would not allow such a connection to be exploited. He could not say the same for Charles.

  “And was Miss Elizabeth in agreement?” Charles asked, as delicately and nonchalantly as he could muster. Fitzwilliam seemed shocked at his words, but answered anyway, in the affirmative.

  Charles was silent for a moment, before deciding that it was between Miss Elizabeth and his friend. Although Darcy was right, that propriety and restoring the reputation of her family dictated their engagement, as she had proved during her stay at Netherfield, Miss Elizabeth was no shrinking flower.

  He had remembered, when he first met her at the Assembly, when he was able to tear his gaze away from the gentle and lovely Miss Jane Bennet, that he had regarded her as somewhat pretty at first glance. It was only after he began to study her, more after Darcy’s remark of judging her to be no more than “tolerable”, that he had noticed the playful wit that brightened her eyes. Miss Elizabeth and her sister shared the same, beautiful dark eyes. Apparently Darcy had also “seen the light”, so to speak, regarding her beauty, for he had overheard Caroline complaining furiously of Darcy’s complement of Miss Elizabeth’s “fine eyes” to Louisa shortly
after the evening at Sir William’s. Another pointed comment was made of their being brightened by exercise when Miss Elizabeth had walked three miles to Netherfield to attend upon her sister.

  And so Charles could conclude, without Darcy having to speak much on the topic, that he was not displeased that such rumours had spread across town. However, he was somewhat surprised that Miss Elizabeth was as pleased as Darcy. Perhaps he had read their interactions wrong, for not everyone could be as he and Miss Jane Bennet. Every moment he spent with her, gave him more reasons to propose a courtship, if not marriage. Even when she was ill, her demeanour was so sweet and unaffecting, her regard for everyone, down to the maid who put logs in the fire at night, unvarying in its generosity. She was everything he wished for in a wife, and he believed she felt the same about him. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth’s matrimonial bonds could only strengthen that feeling, and he had a feeling that he would soon be more than friends with Darcy--they would soon be brothers.

  Thinking on it some for some time longer, Charles could see the truth in his logic. Miss Elizabeth would never stop challenging Darcy on some of his more pigheaded behaviour and temperaments, and that was an attribute that Darcy enjoyed in his accomplished women.

  Charles grinned to himself. Soon, he would have himself and Miss Elizabeth to cajole Darcy out of his more awful moods, on a lazy Sunday evening, for God knows his Miss Bennet was too sweet, and Caroline too proper. Leave it to Darcy, he thought, to turn never take the easy path.

  Chapter Four

  If Elizabeth had dreaded leaving her father’s study after the departure of Mr. Darcy, then she must certainly dread going to dinner. She had managed to evade her mother, as Lady Lucas and Charlotte, thankfully, had kept her mama occupied as she left the study and slipped up to her room. Her dearest Jane had briefly made contact with her, aware of how she was feeling, yet how could she be, and then she too, had left to rejoin their guests and mother. Elizabeth was grateful for her dear sister, and for Charlotte but she could not endure another moment of the farce that was about to be committed.

  She wished it were a farce. It would make things easier.

  It was the way of Meryton, of her people, and she was sorry to say that she had never truly considered that fact before this day. She had always assumed that Meryton knew her better than that, that she would willingly risk her reputation for a man who had publicly deemed her tolerable for anyone who had the care to listen.

  It was near dinner time, and when her mama had uncharacteristically knocked on her door, she had informed her that she had a headache and would lie abed through dinner. What was usual was that her mother had informed her in almost positively gleeful tones that Charlotte, Lady Lucas, Maria, and Sir William would be joining them for dinner, a token of gratitude to Lucases for coming to their aid so quickly. It was that fact that made Elizabeth leave her bed and join her family, no matter how much she wished to wallow and pout like a child. Her mama would do enough gloating, in front of her dear Charlotte no less, over how Elizabeth caught such a man.

  Elizabeth sighed. She could hear her mother’s raucous boasting now--of how Lizzie had caught herself a fine gentleman who was almost as good as a Lord! The thought had made Elizabeth giggle to herself briefly. If anyone could not place fault on Mrs. Thomas Bennet, it was that she loved all of her daughters equally, that Elizabeth knew, despite sometimes feeling otherwise. In her own way, she could not but hope it would take some silliness out of her mother, for Elizabeth was half-convinced that her mama’s behaviour stemmed from believing that they would starve in the hedgerows as soon as her papa was dead and buried. Perhaps she would be able to speak more to her mama and papa, about Lydia and Kitty’s behaviour. If she broached the subject by way of explaining that Lydia and Kitty’s behaviour would reflect badly on a gentleman of Mr. Darcy’s status, perhaps that would get through to her mama.

  Elizabeth’s sister soon joined her, quickly changing into a more suitable gown for their guests, and the two sisters linked arms as they made their way to join the others.

  Elizabeth believed that even with the presence of her sister, and her dearest friend that she would dread dinner.

  She was correct.

  As soon as Elizabeth crossed the threshold, it seemed her mama was unable to restrain herself, as she had done earlier in that day. Or, rather, Lady Lucas had been unable to restrain her mama, and it seemed that neither would her papa.

  “Lizzie!” Her mama gave an excited gasp, before gathering up Elizabeth in a surprisingly gentle hug. “I hope my dear, you are feeling well enough to eat, for afterwards, you must tell us all about your Mr. Darcy!” Catching her hand, Mrs. Bennet grasped it firmly, and escorted her past the threshold.

  Before they could leave the room, Elizabeth glanced back and Charlotte met her with a small smirk, as she followed Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet to the dining room. Elizabeth supposed it would be poor form to mouth the words, “help me,” as well as invariably useless, given that she knew her mama would not rest until she had squeezed every bit of information she could get out of Elizabeth.

  She could only hope to get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible.

  “Now, now Lizzie,” Mrs. Bennet had barely waited until they were all seated. They had just been served the first course of a much more elaborate meal than they would have normally eaten, of which Elizabeth noted that her favourite soup was served, “you must tell us all about your young man, and how you managed to catch his eye!”

  At her words, Sir William coughed rather loudly, causing Lady Lucas to absentmindedly hand over her handkerchief, as well as gesture for Mrs. Hill to refill her husband’s water glass--it being the first thing he drained upon sitting at the table.

  Elizabeth’s mortification warmed her cheeks, as she could not help but watch Sir William out of the corner of her eye. Even though he was used to her mama and her ways, apparently he had not considered her enthusiastic reaction to any attention paid to one of her daughters, nevermind an engagement, no matter the circumstances from which it came about.

  “There is not much to say,” Elizabeth replied as calmly as she could, observing Charlotte’s reactions, for strength. Her dear friend held her gaze, and Elizabeth could not help but be grateful. “I spent as much time with Mr. Darcy as I did Mr. Bingley,” her she paused, wincing at Lydia and Kitty’s giggles. Mary cleared her throat loudly, something she did when she wished to say something particularly moralising, but knew mama would never let the second sentence past her lips, “and during my time at Netherfield, both gentlemen treated me as a guest in the home. You know as well as I,” Elizabeth hastened to add, “that the rumours are utter falsehoods. Mr. Darcy is merely being a gentleman in making an offer for me. I have no wish to destroy my sisters’ marriage prospects.” She finished rather lamely. When she had regained a measure of calm and clear-headedness, she had realised that there was nothing else she could do. Not if she wished to ruin her sisters’ futures as well.

  Jane’s future, with Mr. Bingley--if there was one.

  Her mama’s eyes took on a rather excited gleam as she considered Elizabeth’s words, and switched her gaze from Elizabeth to Jane.

  “Oh, yes, yes, of course my dear Lizzie,” Mrs. Bennet answered her excitedly, “I understand your feelings completely, and I am so happy for you my dear girl! Your marriage to Mr. Darcy shall open the way of your sisters to other wealthy men--” Here Lydia gave a loud declaration, “A man is nothing without his regimentals, as well you know, Mama!” which Mrs. Bennet ignored in favour of continuing her praise of her most stubborn daughter, “although we here all know that my Jane shall have no need of such access.”She finished, her gaze resting softly on her two eldest daughters. Soon they would be married, and she would have only three daughters left to wed off.

  Before Elizabeth could respond, nor even address the other guests, who were patiently enduring her mama’s excitement, as they always have, Mr. Bennet finally spoke.

  “Here, here, Mrs. Bennet. Th
at will do. I am sure we shall have plenty of time to speak of Lizzie’s young man some other time, but I have a bit of news that will interest you. I had thought to inform all of you of the news in the morning, to not take away from the excitement of Lizzie and Jane’s homecoming, but I can see it has been a day of change, and so this news fits perfectly with the other events that have transpired.” Here he paused to take a long drink of his wine, knowing that he was causing his wife to be eaten up with anticipation.

  “Well, Mr. Bennet?” Mrs. Bennet questioned anxiously, when it became clear that Mr. Bennet was not going to continue his speech anytime soon.

  “I hope my dear Mrs. Bennet,” he started, with a fond look on his face, “that you have plans for a good dinner tomorrow, for I have reason to expect another addition to our party.”

  Here Mrs. Bennet’s brow furrowed, “Come now Mr. Bennet, do not tease me so. You know I mean to invite Lizzie’s young man to dinner tomorrow.”

 

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