Elizabeth stared at the sealed envelope. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was inscribed on it in Anne’s hand. Elizabeth felt a wave of unease, confronted with such strong evidence that Anne’s will was still at work in Pemberley. Unlike Kate’s garments, which comforted her, holding a letter from Darcy’s dead first wife made Elizabeth feel like she was living another woman’s life. A stolen life.
Should she take the letter to Darcy? After all, she was not Miss Elizabeth Bennet any longer, and Anne was his wife. Shouldn’t he have the decision of what to do with her property? Yet, the dress was obviously left for Elizabeth to find, and it was clearly addressed to her, even if her name had changed in a way Anne could never have foreseen.
Shaking her head at thoughts of reading the letter with him watching, or allowing him to read it first, Elizabeth retreated to her favorite reading nook, lighting candles about her. She was glad Georgiana had already retired and that Darcy was still ensconced in his library. No one else would presume to ask whose letter she read.
With a slightly trembling hand, Elizabeth broke the seal on the envelope. She removed the carefully folded pages and opened them.
My Dear Miss Bennet,
Please find it in yourself not to dislike me for what I am about to tell. I must lead with that, for you are a generous hearted creature and will not refuse my plea. There are certain truths I feel I must impart to you, though they may not place me in the most favorable of light. Take this as both my apology and amends. For my part, I had no wish to harm you. At first, I did not comprehend I had done so.
Foremost, you should know that I know all. I know of Darcy’s proposal to you, and your rejection. I know the content of the letter he gave you the following day, in full, for I read it without his knowledge or consent before he sealed it. Knowing this, you will then understand why it took him much time to learn my most deplorable deed.
I lay in wait for him after he left your side. I’ve known him since childhood, and I manipulated both the conversation and his emotions until I succeeded in procuring a proposal of marriage from him. Worse, I was fully aware that he regretted it almost immediately, though he staunchly stood by his word. I knew he was still well and truly in love with you.
It is my feeling at the time of writing this, while you are even now in Pemberley as my loyal companion, that he is still fully in love with you and will always be. Me, he was resigned to, then repulsed by, and has now come to tolerate. You, he loves with the entirety of his heart. I could see it the moment his eyes fell upon you in the drive. I knew his love for you when I trapped him into marriage. What I did not realize, until I saw you that day, is that you love him, too.
You may ask, then, why I was so kind to you, why I insisted you stay for dinner. At the time, I told myself it was because I was grateful to you. If you hadn’t refused Darcy so unequivocally, he never would have been in such a depressed state and I would not have been able to wring a proposal from him.
As I am most assuredly gone now, and will have brought my sins before the creator, I feel free to admit my second reason. I enjoyed watching him want you. You, who are so beautiful, so strong and healthy and competent and kind. You are everything I am not, yet I had Darcy and you didn’t, and I knew that, no matter how I taunted him with your presence, he would never stray.
Later, I felt remorse, and desired to make amends. I thought that, if I paid you attention, I could help you win a better husband. Someone to take his place in your heart. I waited until he was away, however, even urging him to stay in London, because I grew fearful the temptation of you would be too great. Please know, though, for my part, I really did feel kindly toward you and have come to cherish your friendship.
All of this, I felt you should know. Consider yourself my confessor, for the unkind harm I have wrought the two of you. I knew you were meant for each other. It is my hope you may still have a long and happy life together. I was but a moment, an important one for me, but one you and Darcy should move past to reach your future.
Sincerely, with love and without regret,
Anne Darcy
Elizabeth stared at the note. Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking. Thoughts tumbled through her head. Anne always knew. He proposed to Anne that very morning. Anne thought Elizabeth was in love with Darcy and that he was in love with her.
She surged to her feet, clutching the pages. There was one thing she was sure Anne was right about, and she could no longer deny it. She could no longer shelter her heart and mind from the truth, holding back out of fear he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. No matter how rude he could be, how abrasive or how distant, Elizabeth knew that Anne was right. She was in love with Darcy.
All that remained was to learn if he was in love with her, too. It hardly seemed possible, given his behavior, but she was the one who judged him in love with Anne, seemingly a mistake. Perhaps the inscrutable, maddening, idiot of a man was in love with her, all this time.
Her thoughts were so inflamed, she hardly noticed that she was all but running toward the library. She burst into the room, finding a startled Darcy looking up at her. He sat on a comfortable leather sofa, holding a volume on husbandry. Before he could rise, she stormed forward, thrusting the content of her hand in his face.
“Is this true?” she demanded. Her throat was tight, but she didn’t know if it was closing with tears or anger. “Is all of this true?”
He took the papers from her. Maddeningly, he read the letter carefully. He had to keep smoothing the pages, for she’d crumpled them in clenched fists.
Elizabeth stood before him, watching him read. She wanted to reach out and shake him, demanding to know if he loved her. If he did, why was he so distant with her? Why not tell her? Why not exercise the rights of a man over his wife? What sort of cold, calculating, iron souled man was he, that he could walk away from their wedding night when he was in love with her, and not go to her bed when he returned?
He couldn’t. No one could. Anne must be mistaken. Elizabeth shouldn’t have brought the letter to Darcy. What was she thinking? This would linger between them, mortifying to them both, and only make life worse.
She was about to snatch the letter from him and toss it in the low burning fire when he set it aside. Trembling, Elizabeth watched him stand. He gave her one of his inscrutable looks and crossed to the library door, which she left flung open.
He was leaving. Just leaving. She thought she might faint, or scream, or both.
He shut the door, carefully locking it, and returned to stand before her. She stared up at him in confusion.
“You found this letter?” he asked.
Elizabeth nodded, aware that he was standing much closer than usual. She thought she was used to how tall he was, but so close, he loomed over her. She had to tilt her head back to look at him. “In Anne’s desk, in the secret compartment,” she said, but her voice came out in a whisper.
“And, obviously, you read it.”
She nodded, not trusting sound to emerge should she try to speak. Tilting her head back to look up at him was making her dizzy.
“I can think of only one suitable response to the situation we find ourselves in. Something I think will answer all of your questions, and mine.”
The look he gave her was no longer aloof. It wasn’t distant, or cold. It smoldered like the coals behind her. Before she could fully gather his intension, his arms were around her, his lips moving against hers. As his mouth caressed hers, he slid one hand into her hair, expertly tugging it loose so he could bury his hand in it. Elizabeth felt her knees buckle at the heat that surged through her, scalded her, but he pressed her so tightly against his body that she couldn’t fall. She trembled at his touch, and it was the most wonderful sensation she’d ever felt.
Late that evening, many questioned answered but few words spoken, Elizabeth woke to the marvelous feeling of laying against Darcy’s bare chest. They were on the sofa, Elizabeth wrapped in her husband’s embrace. Peering up at him, she found him gazing down at h
er. His deep eyes were so filled with love, she wondered how she could ever have found them expressionless.
“We’ve both been fools,” she said.
Darcy laughed. It was a sound full of joy. “My Elizabeth, how vast my ego should grow if not for you.”
“It’s true,” she said, snuggling closer, letting him ponder her meaning for a moment before elaborating. “I did love you, all this time, which makes me a fool.” She looked up at him, begging the question, for the words had not yet passed his lips, though his actions spoke for him.
“And I you, making me an even greater fool,” he said.
She frowned, but before she could point out his lack, he put a finger to her lips.
“If you keep after me, I’ll get it right one of these days,” he said. “What I meant was, I love you, Elizabeth. Then, now and always.”
Content, she smiled, snuggling against his strong chest, held secure in his arms.
Epilogue
Darcy felt Elizabeth snuggle next to him. “Happy Birthday,” she said sleepily. He took her in his arms and kissed her. The hint of dawn coming through the curtains suggested it was indeed his birthday. It was too early to get up, but there were other things they could do.
Later, Darcy rode around Pemberley for a last look before they went to London. The London and Greenwich Railway was scheduled to start operations. Darcy invested in it and was excited about seeing the first passengers. They would stop at Cambridge to visit their two sons before going on to see their daughter Beth and her husband in London. Georgiana also lived in London and was expecting them to visit. Her second husband was in trade, which shocked Darcy’s noble relatives, but Darcy was pleased Georgiana recovered from her bereavement and found someone to love. Darcy and Elizabeth might even visit Rosings, where Kate was complaining that her son kept climbing out of his crib. Darcy thought this was excellent grandparents’ revenge, since Kate did the same thing when she was a year old.
Pemberley was oddly empty now that their four children were gone. This trip to London was more about visiting family than overseeing his investment.
More than a week later, after seeing the train belching smoke and passengers, Elizabeth asked Darcy, “Do you think we will be traveling to London by railway in a few years?”
“We probably won’t live that long,” Darcy said. But he’d already lived longer than Anne predicted. He was fifty-one and his children were essentially grown. He did not have a happy marriage with his first wife, but the second Mrs. Darcy gave him all the happiness he ever hoped for.
The End
Mrs. Bennet’s Triumph
A bonus short story
Mrs. Bennet knew life was unfair to her. No one considered her poor nerves. Most of it was Elizabeth’s fault. If only she’d married Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet wouldn’t have to be sharing a bed with Mary. It was most unjust. All five girls could sleep in the two beds in the larger spare room. She was willing to give up the largest bed. But no, everyone was against her. Even Jane said that three in one bed was unreasonable. Elizabeth, Kitty, and Mary were all very thin. Elizabeth should sleep in the center, since she refused Mr. Collins’ bed. Surely, the three of them wouldn’t mind letting their mother have a bed to herself.
To make matters worse, when this total disregard for her nerves required she take just a little more time for sleep, she found she missed breakfast. Someone should have brought her breakfast. She was still recovering from the terrible carriage accident that killed Mr. Bennet and Lady Lucas. It occurred in May, shortly after Jane returned from London and Elizabeth returned from Kent. Now it was early August. Three months was not enough time to recover. Sir William was barely out of bed, no one hurrying his convalescence or period of mourning, but that viper Charlotte Collins threw her and her girls out of their home.
She would not miss breakfast again. When she arrived, everyone was crowded around the table, but there was still food left. Mr. Phillips said, “Excuse me,” stood up and left. How impolite. She’d only just sat down.
“I have to go help Uncle Phillips,” Elizabeth said. She left, too. She had no shame. She didn’t realize the whole thing was her fault. And what was Mr. Phillips doing to her, anyway? He was making her a clerk. She was copying legal documents and letters for him. Mr. Morris should be doing it. He was Mr. Phillips’ clerk. But no, Mr. Morris had more important things to do, according to Mr. Phillips. Elizabeth came back yesterday with ink stains on her hands. How could she find a husband with ink stains?
Jane brought her mending to the table and stayed with Mrs. Bennet until the meal was finished. Jane sewed beautifully, and sewing was acceptable. But she was mending Mr. Phillips’ undergarments, and that should be done by a servant. Lydia and Kitty were doing laundry. Who knew if they would get the clothes clean without damaging them? And what would it do to their hands? Mary was helping in the kitchen. Well, Mary was plain enough so it was unlikely she would find a husband, so it was probably best she make herself useful.
The morning passed slowly. There was nothing to do, no meals to plan, no servants to organize. She couldn’t even visit without having the humiliation of going in someone else’s carriage, because Mr. Phillips decreed that a carriage was too expensive. She was sure he was making money off their staying. He wouldn’t let them stay unless he handled the money. Then, he gave everyone a paltry allowance.
She’d wanted to stay with her brother in London, but it was decided they would stay in Meryton. Her brother had a larger house with more room. All four of her brother’s children could stay in one room, giving the Bennets plenty of space. But her brother was so unreasonable. He said he would add to their income, but London was more expensive than Meryton. She complained to her sister, Mrs. Phillips, but even she didn’t sympathize with Mrs. Bennet anymore. No one did, and her nerves, her poor nerves, could hardly bear it.
Finally, with the day half done, people behaved in a more civilized manner. Well, Jane was still mending, but at least it wasn’t undergarments. Lydia and Kitty finished the laundry and Mary changed out of her flour-covered gown into something nicer. They had callers, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. How dare they call! She couldn’t stand the sight of them.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Collins. Are you enjoying Longbourn?” Mrs. Bennet asked, hardly caring if her tone was civil.
Elizabeth slipped in, with ink stained hands, and greeted the guests, as if she had been there all along.
“Yes, Mrs. Bennet. Now that we are in full possession, my wife has agreed with me that I should resign my living in Kent. My noble patroness was unhappy, but I finally persuaded my wife that we do not need her anymore, but that is not what I have come to discuss.” He looked around the room at them, like a lord about to confer a favor. It set her teeth on edge. “When I visited you at Longbourn, my intention was to help you by marrying one of your daughters. By a heavenly act, I found my beloved wife. We seemed to be designed for each other. I cannot regret that I didn’t marry one of your daughters, but I can take one of them off your hands.”
There, Mrs. Bennet thought. He’s made his decree. He probably wanted to take her darling Lydia away, but she wouldn’t let her sweet girl go to that vipers’ den.
“Mrs. Collins said that she would love to have Miss Elizabeth come live with us” Mr. Collins continued, shocking Mrs. Bennet. “We can give her a small allowance, so she will not be a burden on you in any way. It is entirely appropriate, since she is my cousin and my wife’s friend. After her stay with us in Hunsford, I know she will fit nicely into our household.”
They would give Elizabeth an allowance? Mrs. Bennet was even more stunned, but she’d already made up her mind, before he finished speaking. She wanted nothing from that man and his wife. She opened her mouth to protest. “I don’t think…”
Of all the daughters they could choose from, they picked Elizabeth? She was not half as pretty as Jane or as good natured as Lydia. But that was their choice, and they offered an allowance. Mrs. Bennet calculated that her personal allowance wou
ld be increased if Elizabeth left. Better yet, Mary would sleep with Jane and she would get a bed to herself. She paused. She realized people were looking at her for her to finish her sentence.
She cleared her throat. “I mean, I think that is very generous of you.” There. It even made sense. No one could know she resented Elizabeth. She was glad to get rid of that ungrateful girl. She looked over at Elizabeth, who was always of such a contrary nature, she was sure to find fault with the offer.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I agree with my mother. That is very generous. I am humbly honored at your request and accept with pleasure. I enjoy Charlotte’s company.”
Mrs. Bennet let go of her fear that Elizabeth would refuse. Finally, the girl showed some sense.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said, peering down his nose at her, “perhaps now you have seen me in marriage, you recognize that your friend has been more fortunate than you— but on this point it will be as well to be silent.”
Mrs. Bennet agreed with that, worried his provocations would change Elizabeth’s mind, dashing her hopes of a bed to herself and a larger allowance.
“Mr. Collins, I am delighted that my loss was both your and Charlotte’s gain. Please believe me when I say that my actions, which you are too generous to resent, made three people happy.”
Mary took over copying documents. That girl would never marry, so it didn’t really matter. Lydia and Kitty stopped doing laundry and spent their time wandering the streets of Meryton and visiting people within walking distance. Mary and Jane worked harder than ever. Jane did the laundry and the mending and Mary divided her time between the kitchen and Mr. Phillips office. When Mrs. Bennet complained, they pointed out that the agreement was that their allowances would be decreased if the Phillips had to hire more servants, which, of course, was monstrously unfair of Mr. Phillips.
The Second Mrs. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation Novella Page 10