An Alternate Perspective

by Wynne Mabry

  Of course, that other Elizabeth’s reaction to this was still very much in question. She had never sought Mr. Darcy’s affections and clearly would not welcome them. Not unless she experienced a complete change of opinion.

  It occurred to Elizabeth that an acquaintance with her own Fitzwilliam might have some effect upon her other self. The positive impression made by his manners and thoughtfulness might cause her to reconsider her impressions of the Mr. Darcy she knew and disliked.

  Perhaps he was even now trying persuading her that she had misjudged the man. It was the sort of thing that he would do. He would not like the idea of any version of himself being disliked. She smiled at the thought that he was doing something to enhance her own efforts to bring the pair together. At the same time though, thinking of what he was doing increased the pangs of missing him. Thank goodness she did have Jane for cheerful company.

  She remained upstairs until it was time for dinner, finding in her sort-of-sister’s company the comfort of which Mr. Darcy had spoken earlier. Jane was planning to go downstairs for a few hours that evening, which was a pleasing prospect. Her presence in the drawing room would be very welcome. Perhaps it might also distract Miss Bingley from making any snide remarks.

  Hopelessness and Frustration

  In addition to bringing more water and replenishing the supply of coal, some of the servants had brought a looking glass into the library. They dealt this as though it were not a surprising request. Having become used to Mr. Hurst’s strange ways and unusual needs, they were not easily astonished. Although the purpose of the looking glass eluded them, they were not especially bothered to know. It was, after all, a very ordinary object, unlike the machine which they had become accustomed to seeing.

  “You should see what a strange thing the scientific gentleman has built,” some of them had said to their friends. Fortunately, Meryton was a progressive sort of town, where even the lower classes had some idea of the progress being made by science and the benefits which might be reaped for all of society. Mr. Hurst’s experiments and his steam-powered machine had not set up a furor in the neighbourhood or terrified any of the servants.

  Even the instruction to secure the looking glass tightly did not surprise the ones who undertook the task. It made sense that stability was important when it came to scientific experimentation. What did surprise them was the absence of Mr. Hurst and sudden interest that had been taken by almost the whole household, but that surprise was only of a slight degree. Presumably, he had other matters to attend to, and they were doing some work for him in the meantime.

  The servants were still rather curious about the nature of that work, and they would very much have liked to stay and see what happened next, but Mr. Bingley dismissed them, and the door was closed as they left.

  “Ten to one, it’s the dullest thing anyway,” one of them said as consolation to the others while they walked away. “There is probably nothing of interest to see even when that machine is working.”

  His efforts were cried down by the others, who were certain that such a fascinating machine could not possibly be dull.

  “It must do something to use up so much water,” was one practical opinion.

  In the library, Mr. Darcy was already starting another fire.

  “I do not even know where to begin,” he said to Elizabeth as he studied the array of knobs while waiting for the water to boil. “Adjusting one knob at a time will be logical, I suppose. Just a little bit, and then I should try to put it back in the same position before trying the next one.”

  “That makes complete sense,” Miss Bingley contributed. “As I understand it, the knob can only have moved slightly. You certainly do not want to be turning any of them very far.”

  “No,” he agreed. “I shall try each one in turn then, and if that does not work, then I shall have to start trying some combinations.”

  “We shall need a lot of coal and water,” Mr. Bingley said.

  “And a lot of time.” Mr. Darcy sighed.

  “But there is one useful thing,” Elizabeth pointed out. “We learned today that the portal can move from one reality to another. Perhaps we could observe several worlds with one portal if you were to make adjustments to the settings as quickly as possible.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I had not considered that. Indeed, we might be able to work very fast if there are obvious differences which allow us to eliminate possibilities swiftly. I think it likely that they are still waiting, but since we cannot count on that, we will have to look for other things. Do you agree that we are looking for shelves very like the ones here?”

  “Yes and a little table just in front of them,” she replied.

  “So if we do not see those, we can move on immediately.”

  He began with the first knob in the first row, making the slightest adjustment possible before establishing his portal. As the scene came into view, Elizabeth saw empty library shelves again.

  “Not this one,” she said.

  He turned the knob very slightly, and in the glass, they saw the portal narrow and then widen again as it had done before. The view looked just the same.

  “It is hard to tell if this is another reality,” Mr. Bingley said as Mr. Darcy was already moving on.

  The next reality also had empty shelves, but there were some crates in front of them. They were able to see a few more before the water was depleted, but all were noticeably wrong.

  “I am inclined to think that knob was in the right position to begin with,” Mr. Darcy said. “I have probably only made things worse.”

  He turned it back a bit in an attempt to get back to the original setting.

  They continued in this way for a while, finding one reality after another with obvious differences from the one they wanted, although many of these ones were similar to each other. Each time Mr. Darcy did his best to reset the knob which he had turned.

  Eventually they came to one which caused the portal to open in a completely empty room. Mr. Darcy turned the knob and in the next portal they saw no Netherfield at all. Just a field.

  “Now that is a great difference,” Mr. Bingley said.

  “The house might have been built on a different spot which is out of our view,” Mr. Darcy suggested.

  “Or it might all be different,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps Meryton is not there either, or Longbourn, or anything that we know.”

  “Whatever the case, it feels as though we are just getting further away,” Mr. Darcy said disconsolately. “This is hopeless. And now I have turned many of the knobs without being able to return them to exactly the same position.”

  “They were not much use anyway,” Elizabeth said.

  “They must have been close. One simple adjustment was probably all that was needed. With every change that I make, the right combination is only becoming harder to find. This knob seems to be the worst.”

  It did indeed. They were looking upon another field.

  But suddenly Mr. Darcy was less disconsolate. “Actually I think this is very useful,” he cried to their bemusement.

  The portal switched again, and it opened upon a library with books upon the shelves. It almost looked like what they were seeking except for a missing table.

  “I turned it backward instead,” Mr. Darcy explained. “It seemed to me that the difference was too great when I went the other way. I think this knob is the one that was moved, although evidently further than I thought.”

  “It must have been me bumping it,” Mr. Bingley said. “I am sorry to have been so careless.”

  He was being very careful now, keeping clear of the knobs, but Elizabeth was sure that he had been before.

  “I do not think it was your fault,” she said. “Perhaps it was a flaw in the machine, or something wrong with that knob.”

  They were out of power by this time and had to replenish again. When Mr. Darcy opened the next portal, they continued to move through rooms that looked promising, but were not quite right.

 
“I do think we are on the right track though,” he said with a great deal more hopefulness than before. “But I am wondering if there is another knob which moved as well,” Mr. Darcy said. “Even with the improvement we are seeing, it does seem that adjusting this one is not sufficient.”

  As he was speaking a new portal was opening, and they a heard a voice shouting distantly. “Mr. Gresham, you must come here at once. There is something very strange in your library.”

  Mr. Darcy quickly switched to another world, saying, “I can only hope that person thinks there was something wrong with his vision. It would appear that we are getting further off again. I am going to try this next knob.”

  He moved that one a little bit forward a few times with increasingly unsatisfactory results. Then he did the same as with the other and moved it back a significant amount. After this, they saw a reality very like the one they wanted. Since Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley would not recognize any little differences, Elizabeth had to start scrutinizing the scene for any little difference. On finding one, she shook her head at Mr. Darcy.

  “But it seems to be close,” Mr. Darcy said. “I believe we are on the right track.”

  They found some more Netherfields that looked almost right, although the right one continued to elude them.

  “At least we have not disturbed anybody else since that poor man,” Mr. Darcy said. “Indeed, there is a shocking absence of people in these libraries. It is convenient for us, but does nobody care for reading?”

  On their very next attempt, they did see somebody, or at least the back of somebody. He was facing the shelves and appeared to be perusing a book.

  “It looks like you,” Mr. Bingley said in a hushed voice.

  “I concur, but is it the me who was with our Mr. Hurst, or some other me, who is in the library to get himself a book?”

  “I think it must be some other you,” Elizabeth said. “There is no sign of anybody else.”

  “No, there is not. I believe you are right. He is only wanting something to read. If he were waiting for a portal, he would not be so oblivious to it.” Mr. Darcy made his adjustment, and the other version of himself, still unaware of the intrusion, disappeared from their sight.

  “Good thing he was so interested in his book,” Mr. Bingley said. “It is a pity that I do not care much for reading. It would be interesting to see another me.”

  “Perhaps we might yet see one,” Mr. Darcy said. “Mr. Hurst said that anything is possible. Of course, I might have to turn the knobs all the way to find such a substantial difference.”

  Mr. Bingley laughed good-naturedly. “You are more likely to find a battle in progress.”

  “I hope we do not,” Mr. Darcy said. “You do not want bullets coming through the portal and breaking your mirror.”

  “I have plenty more,” Mr. Bingley said with an indifference which made Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy laugh as well.

  She noticed that their greatly increased hope of success had substantially improved his mood. They continued working in good spirits until Mrs. Hurst came to inform them that it was time for dinner.

  “I shall just stay here and keep working,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “You need to take a break,” Mr. Bingley told him. “I insist upon it, Darcy. You have been working for hours. It will not do any good for you to become so exhausted that you cannot concentrate.”

  “Very well, then. I suppose I have to. Even though we are so close, this could still take a long time. I turned too many knobs before finding the ones which had been affected. Now I have to take all that into account as well.”

  “You could not have known,” Elizabeth said.

  “No, I suppose not. At least we have sorted out the original problem. I just keep having to make adjustments until I hit upon the right combination. It is not impossible.”

  They left the room together, but a few minutes later, Miss Bingley returned on her own. Mr. Darcy was getting too close for her liking. It was necessary to do something more to impede his search.

  She went over to the machine, examined it hastily, and found a small piece that she was able to remove. For good measure, she turned all the knobs in different directions, and then she hurried to the dining room, where she ate her dinner in an excellent mood while thinking of the best place to hide the stolen part which was secreted upon her person for the moment.

  An Obvious Hint

  Jane came downstairs after dinner as planned, and Elizabeth was happy to see Mr. Bingley being excessively attentive to her. It looked as though there was a good chance of them becoming engaged in this reality as well. As long as nobody interfered.

  Mr. Darcy was also in the drawing room that evening, and she was pleased to see that he did not appear disturbed by his friend’s attentiveness. Perhaps he had been reconsidering his position.

  “I left Mr. Hurst quite happily reading a book,” he said quietly to Elizabeth. “There is nothing else for him to do until he has his materials.”

  She had been wanting to ask if any portal had appeared after her departure, and this was as good as an answer. It was only what she had been expecting, so her spirits were not especially affected by this confirmation. Patience was required now, which she had been reminding herself all afternoon.

  Mr. Darcy mainly devoted himself to entertaining her, which she guessed was due to his concern. It was another indication that he had the same goodness at heart that her dear Fitzwilliam did. She really had misjudged him terribly.

  He declined to play cards with the other three, even though they made a great effort to persuade him. Elizabeth thought that Miss Bingley was especially keen to tear him away from her, and very disappointed when that determined effort failed. Instead, she sat in the nearest chair to him and attached herself to their conversation.

  Mrs. Hurst did the same to Jane and Bingley, which Elizabeth guessed was part of the sisters’ attempt to prevent an engagement. Her presence would certainly hinder any intimacy of conversation, which was probably her purpose.

  Elizabeth’s own discussion with Mr. Darcy was about books. Having often delved into this subject with her fiancé, she heard some familiar opinions. It was clear that the two men thought much the same way on matters of the intellect.

  Miss Bingley struggled to contribute anything to the conversation beyond vague observations, which did not serve her well. One of her comments was that there was nothing better than a book. Mr. Darcy acknowledged this simply by saying indeed, and then he returned to talking of specifics with Elizabeth, who was suspecting that Miss Bingley did very little reading, if any.

  “When I have a home of my own, I shall be miserable if it does not have an excellent library,” she said a few minutes later.

  “If it does not, then you must take steps to rectify the omission,” Mr. Darcy said. “I can recommend an excellent bookseller to supply your needs.”

  Miss Bingley looked very put out by this response, as well she might. His offer suggested that he did not see her reading needs being supplied his own library in the future. She had probably been hoping for a hint of the opposite.

  Her interruption led him and Elizabeth into a conversation about building up collections. They could think of many books that they would rush out to buy, while the person who had introduced the subject had little idea what books would constitute her idea of a perfect library.

  She yawned several times and eventually got up and began walking around the room.

  “You should join me,” she said to Elizabeth after a moment. “It is very refreshing to walk after sitting down for so long.”

  Elizabeth had no desire to join her, but feeling that it would be impolite to refuse, she excused herself to Mr. Darcy. It was obvious that Miss Bingley wished to put an end to their conversation, but she soon revealed that she had another purpose.

  “Now that dear Jane is better, I imagine that you are anxious to return to Longbourn,” she said after they had walked as far from the others as they room allowed. “You must be missing your
family very much.”

  I do look forward to seeing them soon,” Elizabeth said, accepting that she was no longer welcome at Netherfield.

  “You need not put your parents to the bother of sending their carriage,” she was told next. “Ours can be at your disposal whenever you like. Tomorrow morning if that is your preference.”

  But Mr. Bingley overheard this. “Leave tomorrow morning,” he cried. “I do not think that is a good idea. Miss Bennet is only just beginning to feel better. It would be reprehensible to allow her to leave so early. I am surprised that you thought of it, Caroline.”

  “I know she is missing her family,” Miss Bingley said sweetly. “But as you say, perhaps she should not go quite so soon. Sunday after church would do very well. I have offered the use of our carriage.”

  “Naturally I would wish my carriage to convey them home.” There was a heavy emphasis on the word my. “But I think that Sunday is still too soon to subject Miss Bennet to a journey of five miles. Monday will be better, or perhaps Tuesday.”

  He looked at Jane, and then at Elizabeth, who was almost tempted to say that Sunday would do very well. If there was nothing else to consider, she would have done so and been glad to leave this place where Miss Bingley did not want her. But it was necessary for her to stay here longer. Mr. Hurst was not likely to finish his machine by Sunday morning. Even Monday was unlikely, but Tuesday might be possible.

  With this in mind, she smiled at Mr. Bingley, thanked him for his thoughtful consideration of Jane’s health, and said that she completely agreed about it being too soon for her sister to take a journey of such length.

  Hopefully Mr. Hurst’s efforts would come together by Tuesday morning at the latest. Perhaps the other Elizabeth might return just in time to go home with her sister, which would probably suit her very well since being here at Netherfield had clearly not been a pleasure for her. But hopefully she would be seeing plenty more of Mr. Darcy in the future. His kindness this evening had made Elizabeth wish for some reward for him.