Courting Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  Elizabeth supposed she might have been worried. After all, without Maria Lucas, who would chaperone her? Under the circumstances, it was conceivable Mr. Darcy might go back on his offer to take her to London. Or, if she permitted herself to be truly fanciful, that he would take her without a chaperone, thus forcing her to marry him. However, if he could procure an open carriage, their ride would at least have a semblance of propriety. She tried to imagine herself riding next to the coachman. She would become dusty again, but at least she wouldn’t be walking.

  Better yet, she might ride next to Mr. Darcy. She permitted herself to picture it, him smiling again, the anger he’d shown on her behalf smoothed away by a cheerful journey. They would speak on all the things they normally did, as they ought to have done that morning on their walk. The image of Mr. Darcy made it easier for her to avoid dwelling on the fear and anger she’d felt when the footmen forced her into Lady Catherine’s carriage.

  Elizabeth shook her head. No. She would not think about that. She would think positive and cheerful thoughts. Mr. Darcy was a man of his word. He would arrive in good time and with a proper escort for her. She realized this showed a change from her previously unflattering opinions of him, but she couldn’t help herself from believing it.

  True to her belief, after what she estimated was slightly over two hours from when last she’d seen him, Elizabeth sighted two carriages through the parlor curtains. The smaller, she assumed, held Mr. Darcy’s servants. The larger was splendid, gleaming with paint and lacquer in the afternoon light, and promised a singularly comfortable ride to London.

  Elizabeth stood, heading to the hall where her trunk already waited. A maid reached the door before her and opened it, stepping back with a curtsy. Servants came forward and hefted Elizabeth’s trunk. She followed them to the carriage, where a well-dressed footman opened the door and offered her a hand up.

  Elizabeth smiled as her eyes found Mr. Darcy. Nor was he alone. Colonel Fitzwilliam shared the long seat, and Miss de Bourgh sat opposite the colonel. Elizabeth took the space beside her, offering greetings, which were warmly returned.

  The door was closed behind Elizabeth, but light spilled in the open windows. In moments, they were rumbling forward, leaving the Hunsford Parsonage behind. Elizabeth settled against the comfortably upholstered seat, aware Mr. Darcy’s was the finest carriage she’d ever ridden in. “Miss de Bourgh, I am surprised, but very pleased, to see you here.”

  “As am I to be here.” Miss de Bourgh smiled, her eyes livelier than Elizabeth had before seen them.

  “I did not expect Mr. Darcy to secure me so exalted a chaperone, if I may presume to refer to you as such,” Elizabeth said.

  “You may, for I am,” Miss de Bourgh replied. “From Darcy’s point of view, I am here to keep your reputation safe.”

  “And from your own?” Elizabeth asked, not missing the distinction.

  Miss de Bourgh’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “From mine, I’m escaping my mother.”

  “Shall I keep a watch out the window for her carriage attempting to overtake us?”

  Miss de Bourgh looked slightly startled at that, then laughed. “You are correct in your assumption that my mother refused me permission to go, but I reasoned with her.”

  Elizabeth managed not to comment on the likelihood of reason prevailing with Lady Catherine, but her face must have given away her incredulousness, for Miss de Bourgh’s smile grew. Across from them, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were watching the exchange with amusement.

  “Reasoned?” Elizabeth finally prodded, giving in to her curiosity over what role logical thought had played in dealing with Lady Catherine. In Elizabeth’s experience, reason carried little weight with the woman.

  “I told her that if she let you and Darcy go alone, he would be forced to marry you. She returned that he wouldn’t, because he would be looked down on for such a marriage.” She gave Elizabeth an apologetic shrug. “I reiterated that he would, and then the thing would be done and over with. She offered to send one of our maids with you. I replied that if I went, Darcy would be forced to spend time with me and see to my comforts. Once she heard that, she couldn’t get me packed quickly enough.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. She shot a quick glance at Mr. Darcy, who still looked amused. It surprised Elizabeth how troubling it was to her that Miss de Bourgh should even hint that she might pursue Mr. Darcy.

  Following Elizabeth’s gaze, Miss de Bourgh shook her head. “I have no interest in marrying Darcy.” She cast him an apologetic look. “That said, I don’t mind forcing him to see to my comfort.” She turned back to Elizabeth. “I truly was hoping to stay with you, though, to further our friendship. I’m assuming your aunt and uncle will have enough space for me, since they were planning to house Miss Lucas?”

  “We will have to share,” Elizabeth said. “But yes, they have room, and when the circumstances are explained, they will welcome you.”

  “Then it will be an adventure,” Miss de Bourgh said, appearing pleased.

  “Miss Bennet has already had an adventure,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “From which I hope you have fully recovered?”

  “I have, thank you. Really, no harm was done.” Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s frown, but he didn’t speak.

  “What sort of adventure?” Miss de Bourgh asked. “I know something happened, but couldn’t learn what. Mother said you attempted to go to London and failed, which seemed quite odd.”

  “It was more along the lines of your mother attempting to persuade me to go to London, but failing,” Elizabeth said, feeling that to say more would be impolite. Lady Catherine was still Miss de Bourgh’s mother, no matter how monstrously she behaved.

  Miss de Bourgh’s eyes narrowed. She looked to Colonel Fitzwilliam, across from her. “I heard rumors one of the footmen was injured, somehow. How could Miss Bennet going to London or not result in that?”

  “It seems one of the footmen was kicked during the incident,” the colonel said.

  Beside him, Elizabeth could see Mr. Darcy’s temper worsening. She realized he was angry. Fortunately, for she wouldn’t want him to do anything rash on her behalf, they were driving away from those who were the likely targets of the emotion. Even though that was the case, she couldn’t help but feel a small thrill that his temper should be roused on her behalf.

  “Kicked?” Miss de Bourgh’s eyes were bright with interest.

  “Yes, and I confirmed the injury. Miss Bennet rightly recalled the recipient of the blow was named John or James. Armed with that knowledge, it wasn’t difficult to find one with a mark from Miss Bennet’s kick.”

  “That was clever of you to remember their names,” Miss de Bourgh said, turning to Elizabeth. “I don’t know the circumstances of the kick, but I can’t imagine I’d keep such a clear head.”

  “I was only able to recall because both names began with the same letter,” Elizabeth demurred. “And because it was a similar name to the footman who spilled wine on me at dinner. In truth, I believe it to be the same man.”

  “If there was reason to kick him, is there reason to press some form of charges?” Miss de Bourgh asked, her tone tentative now.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t believe there is enough evidence for me to call on, and I don’t wish to, at any rate. I’m unharmed.”

  Mr. Darcy turned to look out the window, but not before Elizabeth saw his glower.

  “I was hoping to find sufficient evidence,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I fully planned to threaten charges, at the least, for Lady Catherine shouldn’t be permitted to feel no repercussions for abducting Miss Elizabeth and trying to force her to go to London, unescorted. Unfortunately, the footman told me he was kicked by a mule, and the other one confirmed that story.”

  “My mother did what?” Miss de Bourgh looked startled. “That was quite low, even for her, and the footmen are firm in their denial of the business? Have they no shame?”

  “Actually, the one who was injured seemed fair
ly miserable,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “Whether it was guilt, fear or embarrassment, I can’t say.”

  “A mule?” Elizabeth reiterated with mock indignation, attempting to lighten the mood, for now Miss de Bourgh was as grim as Mr. Darcy.

  “I believe they claimed it was a very small mule,” the colonel replied with a straight face.

  Elizabeth laughed, amused by the added insult. “Really, it’s all quite ridiculous, and there’s nothing to be done.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Miss de Bourgh said. Her tone was angry, but thoughtful. “I shall not forget this, though. It will help me to stand up to my mother.”

  LONDON

  “Miss Bennet’s a sweet girl, who deserves a good husband. Just not me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Once he got over reliving his anger at his aunt’s treatment of Elizabeth, Darcy never remembered enjoying a journey more. Richard was his usual charming self. In spite of her ordeal, Elizabeth was cheerful and enchanting. Anne started out grim after learning what her mother had done, but soon began to contribute to the conversation.

  Drawn into the comradery within the carriage, Darcy relaxed and enjoyed the company. It wasn’t until Elizabeth was required to give directions to the coachman that he started to worry. Was he taking Anne somewhere that would be inappropriate? What would he do if he decided his cousin couldn’t stay with Elizabeth’s relatives?

  Darcy looked across at Elizabeth. Her face not only showed no anxiety, but seemed to warm with anticipation. How could she be so eager to go to a part of town populated by tradesmen? More, how could she appear so enthusiastic to see her mother’s relatives? Her mother and the one aunt that Darcy had met weren’t people to inspire such enthusiasm. The nearer they drew to their destination, the tenser Darcy found himself.

  Richard pulled the curtain farther back, peering out. “What do you suggest we tell your aunt and uncle about why you’ve arrived so early, and with us, Miss Bennet?”

  “The truth,” Elizabeth said. “It will go better if we let them in on it. They and my sister Jane can keep a secret.” Darcy didn’t miss the way she looked at him when she said her sister’s name, some of the friendliness leaving her eyes. “We’ll have to say something about Georgiana. May we reveal Lady Catherine is threatening to expose a secret about her? We can tell them it truly isn’t bad, only something that would be embarrassing to her. My family will not pry.”

  “I think so,” Darcy said. “Richard?”

  “Agreed. The worst that can get out is that there is a secret.”

  “Anne?” Darcy asked.

  “Shouldn’t we prepare a false secret, in case someone does press us?” Anne asked.

  Darcy realized his cousin was afraid she would give in, if questioned. While he would like to believe Elizabeth about her aunt and uncle, and did believe her about her sister, if the rumor that there was a secret got out, he could picture someone else questioning Anne. Still, it seemed wrong to compound an error with falsehood. “I don’t care to lie.”

  “Nor do I.” Anne sounded slightly offended. “I mean only to plan for contingencies.”

  “If someone troubles you about Georgiana, come straight to me,” Richard said. “I will trouble them back.”

  Richard said it easily, almost as if he joked. Indeed, there was a smile on his face. Darcy could see the glint in his cousin’s eyes, though. He knew Richard’s general attitude of amiability, when not acting in his capacity as a colonel, fooled people into thinking him benign. Richard was anything but. He’d simply mastered an air of affability that had always eluded Darcy.

  The carriage pulled to a stop and they disembarked. Darcy’s mood darkened, though he saw nothing untoward about the compact, neat-looking building before him. Not outwardly, at least. He hoped Elizabeth’s uncle and aunt would prove tolerable, that both Elizabeth and Anne would be welcome and that the household was acceptable. The sun hadn’t set, but it was low in the sky. If he had to make other arrangements for Anne, it would have to be done promptly.

  Gliding past Richard and Anne, Elizabeth headed confidently for the door. Darcy waved over one of his men, making arrangements for the smaller carriage to head to Darcy House as soon as Elizabeth’s and Anne’s luggage was unloaded. The larger carriage he bid wait. He resisted the urge to order a room made up for Anne, or to have a hunt put on for a proper chaperone to meet her at Darcy House, wanting to give Elizabeth’s relatives a chance to prove suitable. His mind fleetingly went to his cousin, Lady Agatha, but her house was too noisy and chaotic for Anne. He turned back to see Elizabeth’s knock answered almost immediately, the thick wooden door swinging open to reveal a maid. Surprise registered on the young woman’s face.

  “Miss Elizabeth.” The maid’s eyes moved past Elizabeth to Richard, Anne, Darcy and then the carriages.

  “Hello Sarah,” Elizabeth said. “Is my aunt at home? Or my uncle?”

  To her credit, the young woman hardly hesitated. She stepped back with a nod, dropped a curtsy, and rearranging her features into polite disinterest. “I will inquire. If you’ll follow me, miss?”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth said.

  They were led down a clean, tastefully decorated hall and shown into an equally tasteful parlor. It wasn’t a large room, but it was sensibly, gracefully and comfortably decorated. Darcy couldn’t help but note how much more pleasant it seemed than most of his aunt’s parlors. With another curtsy, the maid left them.

  Darcy turned to Elizabeth, waiting for her to sit, signaling they all should. He could see Anne and Richard looking about them, but couldn’t detect whether they were assessing the home for suitability for Anne to stay in or simply curious. Elizabeth moved toward a plush blue sofa.

  Footsteps in the hall brought her back around. Darcy turned as well. A stylishly dressed woman entered. She was not young, but he could easily pick out the traces of youthful beauty in her face. A kind smile added to the impression of calm intelligence she projected.

  “Elizabeth, how lovely to see you,” she said, coming forward and embracing Elizabeth, who returned the gesture with obvious warmth. The woman, whom Darcy could only assume was Mrs. Gardiner, stepped back, looking about her. “And with guests.”

  Her pleasant demeanor didn’t change as she remarked on the three strangers in her parlor. Again, Darcy couldn’t help but compare this with his aunt. Lady Catherine would have railed against the intrusion of uninvited callers. Smiling, Elizabeth introduced them.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Mrs. Gardiner said amongst the obligatory murmurs of greeting. “Please, sit. Would you care for refreshments? You must tell me why you have arrived early. I sent Sarah for Jane. She’s upstairs in the school room, assisting the children with their lessons.”

  “Refreshments would be lovely,” Elizabeth said. “That is, so long as they don’t endanger your plans for dinner. We’ve been on the road all afternoon.”

  Elizabeth sat, the others following suit, while Mrs. Gardiner sent word to the kitchen.

  “Is Uncle Gardiner home?” Elizabeth asked.

  “He will be shortly.”

  Miss Bennet hurried into the room, stopping to look about. “Elizabeth,” she said, smiling, before turning to him. “Mr. Darcy,” she added, obviously surprised to see him.

  Miss Bennet dropped a curtsy, but not before Darcy observed a certain lackluster he hadn’t seen in her before, along with a heightened paleness. She also appeared thinner, though the change didn’t detract from her beauty.

  Darcy and Richard stood, and more introductions were exchanged. During them, Mr. Gardiner entered and refreshments were served. Mr. Gardiner, Darcy was pleasantly pleased to note, was crisp in both dress and deportment, well-spoken, and comported himself like a gentleman. That he was a brother to Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, Darcy could hardly credit. He could see why Elizabeth had looked forward to visiting the Gardiners with such obvious pleasure.

  “Now, let us come down to it,” Mr. Gardiner said, once all were served a
nd settled. “I am always pleased to see you, dear Elizabeth, and honored to make the acquaintances of you all, but I sense a tale here.”

  Elizabeth looked to him. Darcy raised his eyebrows. Was it not more Elizabeth’s tale? Richard cleared his throat, leaning forward in his chair.

  “I believe we may start with mention of Darcy’s and my mutual aunt, Miss de Bourgh’s mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She is, shall I say, a lady of superior resolve and admirable singlemindedness and self-assurance.”

  From there, Richard proceeded with a discreet and truncated version of events. He made no mention of Darcy’s first proposal or the letter which had spurred Lady Catherine’s initial ultimatum and threat. He also did not divulge any details of Georgiana’s scandal, saying only that it was a harmless matter, but embarrassing for a young girl.

  There was no avoiding mention of Darcy’s, to their view, pretend courtship of Elizabeth, embarked on in order to counter Lady Catherine’s threat until Anne’s birthday, but Richard’s brisk style of reporting permitted Darcy to sit through the recounting without embarrassment. He did catch Mrs. Gardiner’s keen eyes on him at one point. He attempted a look of indifference, hoping she didn’t see behind the façade of the proposal to his hopes he might still win Elizabeth.

  Though Richard employed the same understated and efficient manner when he reached the incident which had spurred them to leave Kent, namely Elizabeth’s abduction, Darcy’s mood darkened. He could sense a similar antagonism in both Gardiners. Miss Bennet, for her part, turned wide eyes on Elizabeth, reaching over to take her hand.

  “So, here we are, humbly seeking succor,” Richard concluded.

  “As you can see, I am completely well,” Elizabeth added, her smile reassuring.

  “Oh, but Lizzy, how awful,” Miss Bennet said, tears in her eyes.

  Darcy realized Miss Bennet was, indeed, a gentle soul. If she had loved Bingley, which seemed more likely in view of the state they found her in upon their arrival, he hoped she would soon be over it. Though he considered Bingley a close friend, Darcy didn’t think a man whose affections were as transient as Bingley’s deserving of the heart of such a woman.