Something: Old, New, Later, True: A Pride & Prejudice Collection

by Christie Capps

  Mrs. Carr took a seat across from her as she offered Elizabeth a slice of bread and a refill of water. “Eat, and I shall answer.” She waited until a nibble was removed from the crusty bread before she began. “I was born the daughter of a gentleman. When I was fifteen, I caught the eye of a man my father sought as a friend. He was a peer of the realm, vastly wealthy, who was married to a woman he despised, but whose dowry and connections were advantageous. Where Lt. Wickham failed with you, this man had success, forcing himself upon me repeatedly over the course of his stay in our home. When I told my father, I was shunned as a liar and a whore. I was blamed for using arts and allurements to attract my rapist. I knew then that the safety I had felt in my home was a façade.”

  She rocked back in her chair. “I was sent to live with an aunt in the far north who believed a woman should earn her keep. When I gave birth to my son, the only compassion I received was from the midwife who attended me. Against the insistence of my aunt, she allowed me to nurse the babe, to hold him close, and tell him I loved him before he was taken away. I vowed there and then to become exactly like that kindly woman.”

  “But, your son, your father, and that man?” Elizabeth’s railed at the injustice.

  “You see, Miss Lizzy, here is where the tale becomes of interest.” Mrs. Carr snorted. “The duke and his wife were not able to have children. His petition for divorce was eventually granted and he married another. Yet, his new wife delivered two girl children, which left the man with no heir. Another divorce was impossible, so, after almost twenty years had passed, he approached my father about the possibility I might have become with child.” Her mirth overflowed with bitterness. “My son has been the duke for close to five and twenty years now. To have him changed from natural birth to that of nobility, the miscreant’s first wife, who was by then dead, had to be declared his birth mother. A tall tale was woven where she, out of anger at the divorce, had given birth secretly only to have the child be discovered years later.”

  “And people fell for this piece of foolishness?”

  “People believe what they want to believe, or what it is in their best interests to believe. This man had power and did not hesitate to wield it politically, in his business dealings, and his personal life.”

  “And your son, does he acknowledge you?” Elizabeth wanted it to be so, the romance of having Mrs. Carr have regal connections appealing to her own troubled heart.

  “I am sorry to say that he spent enough time in his father’s company to look right through me when I was in his presence.” She shrugged. “In all my years delivering babes, I have witnessed the same story time and again, always to the detriment to those of our sex.” She sat erect. “Thus, I have learned both from experience and from watching others what needs done to heal from your wounds. A stable, safe haven is the most critical, followed by the awareness that what happened yesterday is in the past. It will not be your present unless you choose to allow it. Then, you find a way to teach others what you, yourself, have learned. This way you grow, you bloom into something entirely unrelated to what happened to you. The attack will change you, but will not define who you are and whom you become. I am the mistress of my fate and have been for a long time. I am no longer a victim.”

  Elizabeth had no words, so she nodded her agreement.

  A pony cart approached and behind it a carriage and four. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy had arrived.

  “Do not be nervous for what is in store, Miss Lizzy. Your man is half in love with you already, if he is not full in love and merely not aware. He has bought you time. Raise your chin, my girl.” She patted Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Your future is still ahead of you and can be as happy as you choose it to be.”

  Again, Elizabeth nodded as the men stepped into the room.

  She ran to her father. “Papa.” His arms wrapped tightly around her as she smelled the familiar acrid odor of tobacco and brandy. She twitched her nose and sniffed. The fragrance had never bothered her before. Why now?

  “Dear girl, Mrs. Hill has done her best. I hope you are not displeased by her selections.” Mr. Bennet quipped, then he sighed. “Oh, Lizzy, what will I do without my sensible daughter to visit me in my bookroom? Who shall challenge me at chess? Who shall listen as I expound with learned rhetoric on my favorite Greek poets? Who shall pack my pipe exactly as I like it? Who shall share her dreams with me as she drinks her chocolate while I sip my brandy?” He sighed, again, as he gently tugged at the lobe of her ear.

  She smiled, caught with surprise that she was able to move the corners of her mouth in that direction.

  “I will miss you, Papa.” She rubbed the uninjured side of her face on his whiskers as she had done since she was young. Her damaged skin was tender from the blows inflicted by Wickham, but she cared not. This was her first independent choice. She would not deny herself the loving kindness of a beloved parent because of the actions of that vile man.

  “My baby girl, I shall miss you too. Very much so.” Mr. Bennet offered his hand to Mr. Darcy. “I have much to thank you for, sir. Your offer to protect my cherished child is soothing balm to me. I also have much to apologize for as well.” When Mr. Darcy started to protest, Mr. Bennet held up his palm. “No, I approached you and Lizzy yesterday angry at what had happened. I was not upset at either of you. My distress was with the realization of what had occurred to my child. However, I allowed that anger into my voice so have no question in my mind as to why she sought comfort from you rather than with me. I do not want you to leave Hertfordshire with the opinion that I hold anything against your actions, which were true and honorable. Pray accept my apology as I hope my Lizzy will do as well.”

  Elizabeth kissed his cheek. “I love you, Papa.” She whispered the words so only he could hear.

  “I thank you, sir.” Darcy tipped his head in respect. Looking towards Elizabeth, he asked, “Will you…?”

  “Yes, I will.” Mr. Bennet declared, nodded, and stepped back from his daughter. “Be safe and happy, my girl.” Then, he offered Elizabeth’s hand to the man who would care for her until the time was right for her to return to Hertfordshire. The significance of his actions was not lost on Elizabeth.

  If all went as the men had planned, she would not return as Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She would be Mr. Darcy’s bride. Clutching his hand, a hint of fear crept into her relief. She was exceedingly pleased to be removed from the mayhem in Meryton and at Longbourn. She doubted she could bear up stoically under the constant agonizing by her sisters, Lydia and Kitty, over the loss of Lt. Wickham. She would never mourn him. Ever! Nor did she want to witness others who felt sorrow at his passing. Instead, she wanted to stop by the jail and kiss the feet of the two men responsible for his death, thanking them with every word she possessed until they rejoiced at their current sufferings.

  Anger tightened her grip on Mr. Darcy’s hand. At that moment in time, she could do nothing to assuage her ire. She wanted to be gone, immediately transported far away. Her breath became shallow and her eyes lost focus as they filled with tears.

  “Hush, Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy softly begged as he cupped the tender flesh of her cheeks and led her to that safe place between his shoulder and his chin. Her forehead brushed his ear as she snuggled in, her nose moving his cravat until she touched the skin of his neck. Sandalwood and citrus. Peace.

  The shades of the carriage remained down until they left Meryton behind. The road north had suffered from the recent rains so their progress was slower than the men had planned. By the time the carriage had left the cart track approaching Mrs. Carr’s cabin, a smaller coach containing Mr. Darcy’s possessions had joined them in a miniature caravan headed to Pemberley. Thornton, the gentleman’s valet, had joined them, blessedly not raising his brows at seeing his master sitting alongside Elizabeth, her hand tightly clasped in his.

  The quiet inside the coach was oppressive while each occupant pondered whatever was on their minds. Elizabeth used the time to replay the midwife’s words over and over, mentally revi
ewing each word and expression. She could choose to allow one act to change her for the bad, or she could choose to learn from it and become the mistress of her own fate. She knew her reputation of having a lively, playful disposition.It was entirely opposite of the morbid anxiety she currently felt. Enough!

  “Mr. Thornton.” She directed her attention to Mr. Darcy’s valet.

  “Just Thornton, Miss.”

  “Thank you, then. Thornton, I admit I find your efficiency most pleasing.” She lifted the corner of her brow and gave him a half smile. It felt good. Natural. She was pleased.

  “While I am appreciative of the compliment, I am left to wonder at its meaning.” Although Thornton was inches shorter than his master, his voice was deeper, commanding attention.

  “I refer to having more than one greatcoat available for Mr. Darcy’s use. Your preparation and foresight are positively genius.” The skin of her cheeks pulled at the genuineness of her grin. The brief twinge of pain felt good. Elizabeth pulled the lapels of the garment she had had in her possession for the past four and twenty hours close together so she was completely encased from under her chin to her toes.

  “I cannot imagine I gave thought to Master Darcy’s apparel being used by one of the fairer sex, but I am grateful you are finding it worthy of wearing.” The valet smiled back and bowed his head.

  Elizabeth loosened her hand from Mr. Darcy and clasped the upper lapels again, pulling them up to her nose. Sandalwood and citrus. She smiled, this time to herself. A healing had begun and she was eternally grateful.

  FOUR

  The coaching inn was crowded with families and men stopping to break their fast as well as warm themselves before the heat pouring from the stone fireplace on the east wall. The noisy din had no effect on Elizabeth until a man, who had apparently been drinking since waking that morning, staggered uncontrollably towards the small grouping headed to Pemberley. When he lurched towards her in an apparent effort to find his footing on the wooden floor, she froze where she stood, her eyes wide open as her body started to shake. Gasping for air, she whimpered as she expected him to grab her and throw her to the ground.

  Immediately, Thornton moved in front of Elizabeth as Darcy stepped closer to her side, his body shielding her, but not touching her. “Breathe, Elizabeth,” he gently reminded her. “One. Two. Three.”

  Her mind began to work again. Four. Five. Six. No hand clutched her arm. Seven. Eight. No weight pressed down upon her. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

  “Can you walk? Shall I carry you?” he whispered into her ear.

  Twelve.

  She shook her head, clearing her thinking at the same time. “No, I will be well.”

  Although she knew little about Mr. Darcy, she was aware he was a private man. Lifting her in his arms in an inn he frequented on his travels to and from London would have called attention to their situation and engendered gossip which could easily be misinterpreted.

  They had remained in the carriage while Thornton made arrangements for a room. For propriety’s sake, Elizabeth had left the greatcoat behind. Now, she mourned its loss.

  There was only one thing for her to do. When he bent towards her, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. He smiled when he saw her intent. Sandalwood and citrus.

  Dimples!

  From the first time she had noticed him at the Meryton assembly, she had thought him handsome. Then, he spoke and haughtily looked upon her family and friends. In so doing, he had become quite ugly to her, his looks paling in comparison to his personality. He had been like a lovely porcelain vase someone had used to spit tobacco into. When Lt. Wickham had told tales of the abuse he had suffered at Mr. Darcy’s hands, it had fostered her growing hatred of the master of Pemberley.

  Now, she realized he had a kindness about him, a gentleness that opposed the impression he had left behind in Hertfordshire. She suspected he was as beautiful inside as he was out. Who was this man? Mrs. Carr had said his measure under duress proved he was fundamentally good. Elizabeth had no reason to doubt the midwife as Mr. Darcy, time after time since he found her in the field, had proven his merit.

  Upon entering the private dining room, both Mrs. Carr and Thornton busied themselves with the necessary tasks incumbent upon early winter travelers. Gloves, bonnets, hats, and scarves needed removed and mud scraped from their boots. Mr. Darcy’s valet occupied himself with this care while the midwife left the room to refresh herself. Elizabeth looked up to the man standing silently beside her, holding his hands to the warmth of the fire.

  “Mr. Darcy, I cannot help but think my sisters will wonder at my being gone from Longbourn without taking my leave of them. I have never done so before.” Elizabeth worried her lower lip with her teeth. “I imagine they will bedevil my father until he gives them a satisfactory response. Pray, did he mention the explanation he would offer?”

  Without hesitation, he responded. “Yes, Elizabeth. Your father will place the blame for removing you from your home so quickly square on my shoulders. With the low opinion of your mother and sisters towards me, they should not doubt him when he says I insisted in having my way that we depart immediately.”

  She chuckled. “I am fairly certain I would have believed him as well.”

  He tilted his head as he gazed upon her. “Would you believe it of me now?” All mirth had left his face. He appeared somehow hesitant as he awaited her response.

  “No, I would not believe it of you.” He relaxed at her words, and she was grateful she could bring him relief. He had already done much for her. “I also wondered how you and Mr. Bingley happened to be riding across that particular field yesterday, though I am eternally pleased you did. Was it your intention to visit Longbourn?”

  He cleared his throat. “In truth, Charles and I had a bit of a disagreement as to our final destination. His desire was to take the chance he might happen upon Miss Bennet and I was desirous of being anywhere but in the vicinity of your home.”

  “Oh,” she whispered. “Should I believe it of you now that you would still be hesitant to ride by my father’s estate if there be a risk of happening upon one or more of the Bennet daughters?”

  Her keenest desire was to tease. Nevertheless, her eyes bore into his. It dawned on her that this situation had forced his hand to act in a manner he might come to resent. Although he had clearly expressed his interest in her in front of Mrs. Carr, his imagining her in his home and actually choosing to have her there was not a given. He may have stepped back and weighed the poor connections and lack of dowry she would bring to a marriage against the expectations his family undoubtedly had for him. There may never have been a future together.

  “What is going on in that mind of yours? Your countenance has wilted like a summer rose and I fear you are becoming anxious. How can I provide solace?” He stepped so close, she could see each whisker in the dark shadow of his jaw.

  “I…I..,” she dropped her chin to her chest and inhaled deeply. Blowing out the air, she rushed her words. “Had you not found me yesterday and the event not happened, would you have left Hertfordshire without approaching my father to offer a courtship?”

  “Elizabeth,” he paused, and her heart almost ceased its rhythm. “I abhor deceit. I will never lie to you. Therefore, I will answer that, in all honesty, I cannot say for sure whether or not I would have followed through on my desire.”

  All she heard was the negative in his words. His reply hit her solidly in the chest, her shoulders pulling forwards in response. She wanted to weep. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to stand in a dark empty closet where no one could see her so she could lick her wounds in private.

  “But, that was then.” He continued, his voice piercing the emotional cocoon she weaved around herself. “When I saw you yesterday…when my mind finally absorbed the drama that had played out on the field…” His baritone roughened. “I knew in that exact instant that I alone needed to provide you protection, that I longed to care for you and attend you, and that it would be me who would see to your
future. Because…”

  “Because you felt guilty since you knew the sort of man he was?” Elizabeth desperately wanted to understand him, to discern the basis for his devotion. Nonetheless, her unsettled emotions bounced from hope to hopeless with each passing second. Intellectually, she recognized she was being argumentative and unreasonable, but she could not stop the feelings from overwhelming her. “You are doing this because you think yourself culpable? How could you? How could you take charge of my life? How could you make me turn to you for comfort and security, a man whose only desire was to ease his conscience? This is unjust and is cruelty of the worst sort. How could you!”

  “How could I?” He raised his hands and dropped them to his side. His words were clipped as he enunciated each and every syllable. “I could, Elizabeth Bennet, because I realized I could never find happiness in my life without you. I would never be complete without you.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” She hated being unsure of herself. It was a feeling unknown to her.

  “When God created Eve for Adam, he gave the woman to the man as a complement. She was not solely his companion or his counterpart, Elizabeth, she completed him.” He ran his hand over his mouth. “In the areas where I falter, you are proficient. In the areas where I am weak, you are strong. I cannot think I will ever be a whole man without you.”

  She turned her back to him and heard his immediate intake of breath. Her actions had to hurt and offend him, but she was unable to process all he was saying.

  “I am unworthy.” Tears streamed without restraint down her battered face. “No! I am worthy. However, if it becomes known what happened, I will be shunned and my shame will fall upon your good name. I will be responsible for bringing reproach to Pemberley, damaging the very stronghold you turn to when distressed.” She spun back to him. He stood with his elbows tucked to his side, his hands fisted, and the muscles of his face flexed. Elizabeth had no fear of him. She hurt for him. “Do you not see? Cannot you comprehend how this could ruin the chance of you finding true happiness? And, what of your sister? What of the disgrace of having me in her home? For a certainty, she would not come to love the woman responsible for creating a sadness that would last a lifetime. She would hate me and I would hate myself for causing this harm to come upon you.” Beating her chest, she repeated far louder than she had intended. “I would hate myself.”