Courting Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  Elizabeth nodded again. “I promise.”

  “Good.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, uncle.”

  “I am always here to share your concerns, Lizzy, but before you go, I would like you to clarify one thing.”

  “If I am able, of course I will.”

  “You were going to be put on the stage and sent to London. How were you supposed to make your way to our home?”

  Elizabeth realized she hadn’t told anyone that part of the tale. For a moment, she wondered how Mr. Darcy hadn’t thought to ask, but then a vision of his face, suffused with anger on her behalf, rose in her mind. She realized he was too angry over what his aunt had done to be as logical as her uncle was being. “Lady Catherine’s agent was to meet me and give me money to hire a cab.”

  “How would he have known you were coming?”

  “She sent an express,” Elizabeth replied.

  “You mean, she had a rider with her, ready to go?”

  “No. She sent it before she kidnapped me.” Elizabeth suppressed a shiver, not liking to be reminded of how meticulous, and ruthless, Lady Catherine could be.

  Her Uncle Gardiner leaned back in his chair and smiled. “We may have confirmation of your kidnapping. There would be no reason to send such a message if you were going willingly. She could simply have handed you the money. If we discover who the rider was, we should be able to find her agent. He might confirm she planned it.”

  Elizabeth rattled off the name of the agent and his description. Her uncle pulled out pen and paper and wrote it down. “In itself, this won’t prove anything, but it might be useful. I’ll look into it. I’ll write your Mr. Darcy if I find anything.”

  Her Mr. Darcy? He wasn’t her Mr. Darcy, was he? “Thank you, Uncle.”

  “Is that everything you wished to discuss, my dear?”

  “I can think of nothing more.”

  “Then I believe we both ought to retire, for dinner went later than usual and your aunt is correct about my habit of rising early.”

  Elizabeth smiled, nodding. She stood and moved around the desk, kissing him on the forehead as she would have her father, and bid him good night. She made her way to the room she was sharing, finding Jane and Miss de Bourgh nearly asleep. Soon, all three were abed and Elizabeth drifted off, her mind at rest over Miss de Bourgh’s offer.

  It was not at rest over other things, it seemed, for Elizabeth dreamed of hands thrusting her into a carriage. Lady Catherine wasn’t inside and the space was dark and smelled of must. Not only the doors but the windows wouldn’t work, the latter painted black. She bounced around, unable to tell where she was being taken, the wooden seats bare of upholstery and painfully hard.

  Elizabeth woke up sweating and frightened. She lay awake for a long time, not wanting to wake Jane or Anne, but not wanting to revisit the dream, either. She was proud of how calm she’d remained while Lady Catherine’s abduction took place, and all the rest of the day. Now, though, in the dark of night, the world no longer seemed as safe as it had before. Elizabeth realized she had a doubly good reason for heeding her uncle’s advice. She resolved to try to earn the money Miss de Bourgh had offered, not only for the good of her and her family, but because it would give her at least some security in an unsafe world.

  Chapter Ten

  Though she didn’t recall falling back to sleep after her dream, Elizabeth awoke to the sound of Jane and Miss de Bourgh readying for breakfast. They seemed cheerful and refreshed. She attempted to mimic their attitude, not wanting to alarm them with talk of her dream. When all three were presentable, they made their way to the parlor for breakfast. Elizabeth’s aunt was there, lingering over her tea. She looked up as they entered, smiling.

  “Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept well?”

  “Yes, Aunt,” Jane said, crossing to drop a kiss on Aunt Gardiner’s cheek.

  “Thank you again for accommodating me,” Miss de Bourgh said. “It’s very kind of you.”

  “It’s our pleasure. What are your plans today?” Mrs. Gardiner asked. “Jane, I know you promised the children you would help them with their lessons again, but I’m sure they’ll understand if you beg off because Elizabeth is here. Really, they take terrible advantage of you. It isn’t as if their governess can’t teach them properly.”

  “I enjoy the children,” Jane said.

  “I only caught a brief glimpse of them yesterday,” Miss de Bourgh said.

  “They are delightful children,” Elizabeth said.

  “Would it be disruptive if I go see them again when we finish breakfast?” Miss de Bourgh asked.

  “Not at all, but I’m sure you have other things to do in London. I believe Mr. Gardiner invited the gentlemen back for dinner this evening, but the day is free.”

  “I was wondering, as we don’t have any other plans, if I could borrow your carriage after meeting the children, Mrs. Gardiner?” Miss de Bourgh asked. “I would like to take Elizabeth to buy a new dress. I feel it’s the very least I can do.”

  “That’s really not necessary,” Elizabeth said, surprised Miss de Bourgh had thought of it, and suspicious. After what her uncle said the evening before, she wondered if Miss de Bourgh was trying to get out of the five thousand pounds by giving her a gift instead.

  “Truly, it is,” Miss de Bourgh said, her narrow face earnest. “Though it should be my mother purchasing it for you, in a just world.”

  The sincerity in Miss de Bourgh’s face made Elizabeth regret her uncharitable thoughts. “Charlotte and I already cleaned the hem, and the tears are small. I can mend them well enough they’ll never be seen.”

  Miss de Bourgh’s face clouded with confusion. “Tears? The hem?”

  “It was soiled from walking so far.” Elizabeth elected not to elaborate on the small tears, created when she’d been carried, struggling, to the carriage. That would only make her and everyone else in the parlor uncomfortable.

  “The dress you wore yesterday morning,” Miss de Bourgh said, her expression shifting from confession to dismay. “I hadn’t considered it. I meant the evening dress. The one John dumped wine on.”

  “Dumped wine on?” Elizabeth’s aunt repeated. “What’s this? Who is John?”

  Elizabeth looked from Jane to her aunt. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s recounting the day before had been in the nature of a summary. He hadn’t dredged forth every detail of his aunt’s bad behavior. Elizabeth had agreed with the strategy, for she was never one for gossip or spite. She gave a little shrug, adopting an air she hoped conveyed it was nothing important.

  “John is one of my mother’s footmen,” Miss de Bourgh said, but then turned to Elizabeth, indicating she should continue.

  “Lady Catherine, as best we can assess, ordered her footman to spill red wine on me at dinner. I believe it was to make me look bad in front of Mr. Darcy. She was attempting to convince him of my unworthiness.” An image of the footman’s face, twisted into a snarl as she kicked it, loomed in Elizabeth’s mind. She looked down, pushing the food about on her plate and hoping someone else would speak.

  “What a dreadful thing to do,” Jane said, sounding more surprised than angry.

  “Indeed.” Aunt Gardiner’s tone was much less charitable than Jane’s.

  “The wine will never come clean,” Miss de Bourgh said. “You’ll need a new bodice if you wish to save the skirt. Either way, I intend you should have a brand new dress.”

  “It does seem reasonable, dear,” Elizabeth’s aunt said. “We would be happy to lend you the carriage for such a worthwhile mission.”

  “Thank you,” Miss de Bourgh replied.

  “Will you join us, Aunt?” Jane asked.

  “I would be delighted to.”

  That settled, breakfast was rapidly concluded. They spent an hour with the children, who Miss de Bourgh appeared to enjoy, and then went to the waiting carriage. Elizabeth didn’t recognize the directions Miss de Bourgh gave, to be passed on to the driver, but it was obvious her aunt did. Mrs. Gardiner�
��s eyes widened ever so slightly and she took on a pleased air. Elizabeth watched the streets grow wider and more crowded as they rode. When they arrived, even she could tell the shop was quite fashionable.

  “Surely, I don’t need a dress this fine,” she protested.

  “You do,” Miss de Bourgh said.

  She used her authoritative tone, the one she seemed to have little trouble finding when around Elizabeth. Even in the less than optimal light inside the carriage, Elizabeth could read Miss de Bourgh’s eyes, which held no confidence, belying the tone she’d used. Not wanting to crush the woman’s budding attempts at asserting herself, Elizabeth let the matter drop. It wasn’t, after all, as if Miss de Bourgh couldn’t afford one dress, no matter how fancy the modiste.

  Inside, the shop was even more elegant than Elizabeth had anticipated. Expensive looking fabrics were draped in graceful display, along with ribbons and an abundance of fine lace. Stylishly upholstered chairs stood at intervals about the showroom, in singles, pairs and groups. Small tables held fashion plates for browsing. Light and crystal glittered about the room.

  A thin woman hurried from behind the counter to greet them, dropping a low curtsy. “My ladies, how may I assist you?”

  “We’ve come for a dress for my friend,” Miss de Bourgh said. She turned, gesturing to Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Yes, of course.” The woman looked Elizabeth up and down, smiling. “And what sort of dress do you require, miss?”

  Elizabeth glanced about, a bit daunted by the opulence before her. “An evening dress, of muslin. Something simple.”

  “Muslin?” Miss de Bourgh frowned. “Silk.”

  The shopkeeper looked from one to the other.

  “Perhaps we should look at both?” Elizabeth’s aunt suggested.

  With a jingle of bells, the door opened behind them. Along with the others, Elizabeth turned to look.

  The shopkeeper dropped another curtsy. “My lady,” she said to the newcomer.

  Elizabeth took in the warm look of recognition on Miss de Bourgh’s face, mirrored on that of the impeccably clad woman standing just inside the doorway. She was slender, and tall for a woman, all but towering over Elizabeth. She looked to be in her middle thirties.

  “Anne,” the woman said, coming forward. “I didn’t know you and Aunt Catherine were in town.”

  “My mother is still in Rosings,” Miss de Bourgh said. She turned to Elizabeth’s aunt. “I have the pleasure of staying with Mrs. and Mr. Gardiner, along with their nieces. This is Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennets, this is my cousin, Lady Agatha Hurst.”

  “How do you do,” Elizabeth’s aunt said.

  She, Elizabeth and Jane curtsied. Under the cover of the movement, Elizabeth cast a quick look Jane’s way. As she’d worried, Jane had paled at the woman’s name.

  “Well, thank you,” Lady Agatha said. “It’s a pleasure to meet friends of my cousin’s.”

  “Lady Agatha Hurst?” Aunt Gardiner repeated. “My niece Jane and I called on a Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley this past winter.”

  “That Mrs. Hurst is married to the younger brother of my late husband.”

  “Lady Agatha is the older sister of Colonel Fitzwilliam, whom you all know,” Miss de Bourgh added.

  “Is Richard in London as well, then?” Lady Agatha asked.

  “He is, and staying with Darcy.”

  Miss de Bourgh smiled as she said it. Her obvious ease with Lady Agatha, coupled with the woman’s warm manner, inclined Elizabeth to like her. She tried to gauge Jane’s reaction, but her sister looked distracted, her color still poor.

  “All three of you? So you have completely abandoned Aunt Catherine, have you?” Lady Agatha said. Her tone was curious, but touched by a barely perceptible hardness when she used her aunt’s name.

  “We have.”

  Even knowing the circumstances of their departure as intimately as she did, Elizabeth was surprised as the vehemence in Miss de Bourgh’s voice.

  Lady Agatha raised her eyebrows. “Well, you shall all come to my party tomorrow, Richard and Darcy as well. I would have sent invitations had I known you were in town. I expected the lot of you to be holed up in Rosings for another fortnight at least.”

  Miss de Bourgh turned to Elizabeth, but this time she didn’t have an answer either. She looked to her aunt.

  “We would be honored, Lady Agatha,” Aunt Gardiner said, dropping another curtsy.

  “Excellent. I shall send round the details.” She paused while Elizabeth’s aunt produced her card. “Do you have children, Mrs. Gardiner?”

  “I do.”

  “Then they and their governess are invited as well. There will be many children in attendance. If I didn’t make it clear, I would be happy to meet both of Anne’s hosts, so Mr. Gardiner is invited as well.” She awarded them all another smile. “I’ll send another missive to Darcy House. Do be sure to pass along my invitation if you see Richard and Darcy, to be safe. You know how men can be with their correspondences.”

  Elizabeth thought Mr. Darcy was likely very orderly and punctual about his correspondences, but kept that to herself.

  “We will tell them both,” Miss de Bourgh said.

  Lady Agatha turned to the patiently waiting modiste. “Please see to them. I’m merely here to have my new gown fitted. I’m sure your seamstress is up to the task.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  The modiste hurried to the counter, pulling a silk cord. Somewhere in the back of the shop, beyond a curtained off doorway, a bell rang. With a parting smile, Lady Agatha moved in that direction.

  “It is too bad you cannot have a dress by tomorrow,” Miss de Bourgh said, turning to Elizabeth. “I should love to see you in something splendid for my cousin’s party.”

  “I don’t need anything splendid,” Elizabeth said. “Simple will do nicely.”

  “Simple, but silk.”

  Elizabeth looked to her aunt for help, but she merely smiled. Jane, too, was no use. She was looking after Lady Agatha, her expression sorrowful.

  “I beg your pardon, but did I hear you venture hope of a silk dress by tomorrow?”

  Elizabeth turned to see the modiste hastening back toward them.

  “Yes, but I realize it’s impossible, no matter what I can pay,” Miss de Bourgh said.

  “If it would not insult Miss Elizabeth, we had a customer very like her in stature cancel a dress at the last moment. She had a death in the family and needed mourning. I think the dress would suit Miss Elizabeth well and require very little alteration. Also, the dress is silk.”

  A smile spread over Miss de Bourgh’s face. “May we see it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  The modiste hurried away, returning shortly with a lovely light blue silk gown, resplendent with cream ribbons and matching lace. It was much finer than anything Elizabeth had ever owned. It did appear to be nearly complete, some of the stitching still loose where minor adjustments might be made during a final fitting.

  “This is much too fine for me,” Elizabeth protested.

  “Oh, Lizzy, it’s perfect,” Jane exclaimed, appearing to have composed herself at last.

  “We would need to fit miss now, of course,” the modiste said. “Some of our girls would have to work late, finishing the dress.”

  “If it’s a question of cost, do not worry over it.” Miss de Bourgh shot Elizabeth a quelling look before she could form an objection. “I shall pay extra to have it finished for tomorrow.”

  “It’s a lovely dress.” Aunt Gardiner turned to the modiste, giving her a firm look. “Not to mention, you would be helping the shop, preventing them from taking a loss on the fabrics and workmanship.”

  Elizabeth hid her smile. Her aunt and uncle were in trade, after all, and it didn’t hurt to bargain a little. Even if Miss de Bourgh didn’t care about the money, Elizabeth didn’t want to see her taken advantage of.

  The modiste nodded, looking a touch disappointed. “
Yes, you will be helping our shop. It is kind of you to consider the dress at all.”

  Elizabeth looked from face to face, feeling as if she had little choice but to accept.

  “It really is the perfect gown for you,” Jane said, her voice soft. “It’s as if it was meant to be.”

  “Well, then, I suppose there’s nothing for it but to try it on,” Elizabeth decided.

  This was met with happy exclamations. The dress was tried on and did, indeed, fit quite well, after some pins were put in to show where the alterations would be done. The modiste, Elizabeth thought, had a good eye. Everyone agreed Elizabeth looked splendid in it, including Lady Agatha, who was drawn by the commotion. She was being fitted into a stunning concoction of emerald fabric and black lace. Elizabeth was happy she loved her dress so very much, or she would have had a pang of envy for the widow, who was permitted to wear such daring colors.

  After the modiste, Anne insisted on taking Elizabeth to a milliner, where a hat was selected to complement the dress. They returned and had tea with the children, which turned out to be a happy affair. Miss de Bourgh didn’t seem at all put out to spend so much time with four children, the eldest an eight-year-old girl.

  That evening at dinner, Elizabeth was prevailed upon to relate the day’s activities. She did so as colorfully as she could without exaggeration. She also endeavored to make it clear she hadn’t been behind the idea to purchase a dress. She didn’t want Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam to think she was taking advantage of their cousin. The warmth of Mr. Darcy’s regard as he sat through her telling, while apparent enough to force her to fight back a blush, assured Elizabeth he thought no ill of her for accepting the gift.

  “Lady Agatha misjudged me,” Mr. Darcy said once the telling was concluded. “I am quite up on my correspondences and well aware of the party.”

  “Don’t permit him to fool you.” Colonel Fitzwilliam pitched his voice low as if revealing a secret. “He wouldn’t have had an eye out for the invitations my sister sent round if he hadn’t known to look for them. Georgiana has already been invited and informed him as much this morning.”