“Little to you, perhaps, but not little to Charlotte.” Elizabeth’s smile was warm. “You could have washed your hands of the matter after returning her to her family. Instead, you came here and negotiated with Mr. Collins.”
Darcy didn’t care to speak about his good deeds in general, and his motivation for taking any excuse to visit Hertfordshire in particular. He turned in the direction she’d pointed earlier. “Will you show me Pine Cottage?”
She glanced over her shoulder, where Miss Kitty and Mr. Collins could hardly be seen, before turning back to regard him with suspicious eyes. Finally, with a slight shrug, Elizabeth nodded. “Of course.”
They set off walking. Darcy was pleased they cut away from the fields, the narrow borders of which would necessitate walking in single file. He preferred to walk beside Elizabeth, where he could speak to her and take in glimpses of her face.
“How did your father handle charity?” he asked, not wanting to seem to avoid the topic altogether. He worried she thought him cowardly for changing the subject a moment ago.
“He had a few charities he gave to regularly and he helped some local families who needed assistance. He also gave each of us a small amount of money to give away.” A sad smile played across her lips. “Lydia spent her money on herself once. She found her allowance decreased by double the amount, no matter how much Mama cried on her behalf. Afterward, Lydia simply gave to whoever was in need who was the least trouble.”
“What about the rest of you?” Darcy asked, filled with the need to know if Elizabeth’s sensibilities on the matter coincided with his.
“Jane was too easily moved by tragedy. Tragedy isn’t always the same as need, I believe. Mary would give to any poor family if they would listen to her read a sermon. Kitty tried to do what was right, but was perhaps a little too naïve about who deserved it.”
“And you?”
“I saved mine up, sometimes for months, and would try to give to someone I thought deserved it. For example, a tenant farmer sprained his ankle, and I gave him enough money to hire someone to do his work while he stayed off his leg. I’ve heard of cases where sprained ankles don’t heal.”
“That seems very reasonable,” he said, feeling an odd lightness in his heart at how sensible, thoughtful and intelligent she was.
“I like to think so, but there’s little sense in passing judgement on oneself,” she said, coming to a stop. “That is Pine Cottage.”
Darcy realized he’d been giving their route only passing attention. Drawing his gaze from Elizabeth’s face, he turned to find a small, neat building. Quaint, Darcy would say, if the word didn’t sound like an insult to him.
Together, they followed a servant carrying a trunk inside. Elizabeth gave him a short tour of the cottage. It was a big step down from a house that easily seated twelve at dinner, and that when the table wasn’t expanded. The dining table at Pine Cottage seated a crowded six. With Mrs. Bennet and five daughters, it would have been over-full, but livable. With only two daughters, it was reasonable though, somehow, he doubted the lady of the house would ever concede that.
He saw the sorrow on Elizabeth’s face as she took him around the more public rooms of the house. He wondered if it was all for her father or if some was for her mother and sisters. Or, though the thought gave him no comfort, was it for her circumstances?
Chapter Ten
Do you want to spend all of your life wondering if you would have won her and regretting you didn’t try?
The afternoon of the following day, Elizabeth moved into Lucas Lodge. She didn’t see Mr. Darcy as her possessions were carried up, though she hadn’t expected to. She did fancy she could feel his presence in the home. It seemed odd to be staying in the same house with a man who once proposed to her. She would likely, on occasion, meet him in the private halls of Lucas Lodge, a strangely intimate idea.
She wouldn’t have been concerned, for he’d said nothing to indicate a renewal of his pursuit of her. Except, she’d caught him looking on her with such an odd expression as they’d talked the day before, and toured Pine Cottage. She couldn’t put a name to the look, but it made her strangely uneasy in a fluttery sort of way.
She was given a small room to herself. Most of the space was filled by a large bed that only fit pressed up against the wall, suggesting two of the Lucas siblings might once have shared the chamber. Grateful to be given her own space, she unpacked her belongings, settling her possessions just in time to change for dinner.
When the ladies entered the dining room in order of rank, Lady Lucas subtly let Elizabeth know that she ranked as a second daughter, behind Charlotte but ahead of Maria. Mr. Darcy, looking impeccable in a dark coat and freshly pressed cravat, sat in the place of honor at Lady Lucas’ right.
Mr. Darcy also warranted the good china, Elizabeth noted, scanning the table. On top of that, as the meal progressed, they were served two full courses, and no fewer than fifteen dishes. Somehow, Elizabeth didn’t think the additional course and extra offerings were on her account.
Throughout the meal, she did her best to uphold her conversational obligations, though she was still finding it difficult. Her mind kept returning to her father’s absence. She would lose the thread of discourse in memories of him, and her sorrow. More than once, she found herself staring down at her hands, unsure what topics were being discussed around her.
At the end of dinner, a selection of sweets was brought in, another addition for Mr. Darcy’s benefit. Elizabeth wondered if she should point out that Mr. Darcy didn’t care for dessert and saved the Lucases the trouble and expense. Seeing the smiles on Maria’s, Susan’s and Arthur’s faces, she discarded the idea. She wouldn’t advocate a lack of dessert and spoil the younger Lucas children’s joy.
“They’re taking up a collection to pay for the damages to the Miller’s cottage,” John Lucas said as he helped himself to a baked apple.
“That’s good of them,” Sir William said. “We shall put in.”
“I did for you, Father.”
“What happened to the Miller’s cottage?” Elizabeth asked. She realized she’d heard no neighborhood gossip recently. All their callers had come with words of condolence, not news.
“It was struck by lightning in that storm last week,” Sir William said.
“Was there as much damage as last time?” Elizabeth asked. She was a child when the Millers’ cottage was struck before. It had seemed exciting at the time. Now, she better understood the hardship a fire caused. The first time, they had to rebuild nearly the entire house. The cottage was near the top of Oakham Mount. It was built there to take advantage of the view, but with no trees around it, it seemed to attract terrible weather.
“No,” John said. “Even though the last time was years ago, they’ve since kept buckets of sand and water on hand. They put the fire out quickly. No one was hurt and only one outer wall and part of the roof were damaged.”
“How much are people contributing?” Mr. Darcy asked.
“A shilling,” John said.
“I think I can afford that,” Darcy said, pulling a shilling from his waistcoat and handing it to John.
A shilling, Elizabeth thought. He gives only a shilling, despite all his talk about charity. The incongruity between his words of the day before and his actions troubled her all evening, even as she played for the family. They were very pleased for the entertainment, but Elizabeth knew she didn’t play as well as she should. She resolved to practice diligently, for music was something she could contribute to the Lucas’ home.
The following morning found everyone similarly arrayed in the breakfast parlor as in the dining room the night before. With so many people about, Elizabeth wasn’t required to speak directly to Mr. Darcy. He seemed to make no effort to speak to her. She began to relax slightly, realizing her worry about staying in the same house with him was silly. Surely, Mr. Darcy had better things to do than attempt to be alone with her.
Her supposition was born out when Mr. Darcy announced
he would be staying only until the following day, and that he had business to attend to. He invited John to ride with him and the two disappeared immediately after breakfast. Everyone else in Lucas Lodge began to take up their allotted tasks. Lady Lucas set to teaching eight-year-old Arthur addition. Charlotte excused herself to tending to her chickens. Maria took up some mending, and Susan reading.
Elizabeth wasn’t certain what she was meant to do. Lady Lucas had specified she should contribute to the household, and Elizabeth was happy to. She anticipated some kind of tasks, but what would they be?
So as not to look like she was avoiding people, Elizabeth brought down a partially made black dress she was working on. She sat in the same room as the others. While Lady Lucas tried to teach an inattentive Arthur, the cook came in, asking if she should make the apricot pork dish for dinner. Sir William appeared moments later, asking his wife when she wanted him to order the carriage for making calls. Maria wanted to know if a torn chemise was worth mending. Susan repeatedly brought her book over, asking for the meaning of longer words. Charlotte came in and told her mother that a clutch of eggs had hatched, before sitting down to sew baby garments. Elizabeth wondered how Arthur could learn with so many interruptions, but knew it wasn’t her place to say so.
Just as it seemed Lady Lucas might have a moment of quiet to focus on her youngest son, Mr. Darcy and John Lucas returned. Everyone set aside their work to attend to the two gentlemen, though Lady Lucas gave Arthur a stern look and tapped on the figures she’d written out for him.
Elizabeth almost resented the way the men sauntered in, demanding the attention of all those in the room. They looked pleased with themselves. Both were a bit wind-tousled, the slight disarray of his hair something Elizabeth hadn’t thought to see from Mr. Darcy. After greetings were exchanged, he seated himself on the other end of the couch she occupied.
“Your business went well, I trust, Mr. Darcy?” Lady Lucas said.
Elizabeth noticed Arthur used his mother’s distraction to stop working on the figures she’d given him.
“Yes, thank you, Lady Lucas. Quite well.”
John grinned at that, but said nothing. Elizabeth wondered what the two could possibly have been up to. They looked like cats in a creamery.
“I would like to thank you for your hospitality, Lady Lucas,” Mr. Darcy continued. “With my last bit of business finished, I’ll be on my way tomorrow, directly after breakfast.”
“Are you sure? You’re welcome here as long as you like. We’re very grateful for all you’ve done for Charlotte.”
“I assure you, I’ve done little.”
“You’ve been the very meaning of helpful,” Charlotte said, offering a warm smile. “Don’t feel you must hurry off because your efforts on my behalf are concluded.”
He had been helpful, Elizabeth knew. Charlotte had confided in her that Mr. Darcy had charged only a shilling for his service. Charlotte felt a lot of what Mr. Darcy was doing stemmed from guilt over his aunt’s lack of assistance and highhandedness. Elizabeth wasn’t as sure.
To feel guilty for Lady Catherine’s behavior, Mr. Darcy would need to condemn it. Wouldn’t that fly in the face of his ideas about wealth, nobility and station? What other reason could there be, though, but guilt? A pure hearted desire to do good? Yet he’d given only a shilling to a family who needed to rebuild a portion of their home. She shook her head. She couldn’t understand him.
“Thank you, but I would never care to overstay my welcome,” Mr. Darcy was saying as Elizabeth forced herself to attend to the conversation.
When had she become such a woolgatherer?
“Well, you’re welcome back any time,” John Lucas said, his smile friendly.
Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth realized, had charmed the Lucases. Their words and looks spoke of true regard, not simply what was due Mr. Darcy’s station.
“You have a fine home. It’s been my pleasure to stay here,” Mr. Darcy said.
Though his tone was level, Elizabeth had the feeling he was running out of proper things to say. She wondered if she should attempt to rescue him. He deserved it, for helping Charlotte.
A loud pounding sounded down the hall, coming from the front entrance of the home. Everyone exchanged looks of confusion, John Lucas standing. They could all hear a servant answer the door, then hurried footsteps. Kitty burst into the room, looking frazzled.
“Lydia ran off with Mr. Wickham,” she gasped out.
Elizabeth surged to her feet, her sewing tumbling to the floor as she covered her mouth with her hands.
Questions spilled forth from everyone in the room. Elizabeth was aware of others on their feet as well. Arthur Lucas was looking about with wide, freighted eyes as the adults’ voices rose. Elizabeth couldn’t bring any words into focus. Lydia with Wickham. Run off. Her sister was ruined. They were all ruined. She pressed her hands harder against her mouth, feeling the room sway slightly about her.
“Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy’s strong hand gripped her shoulder. His voice was low, deep with worry. “Elizabeth, sit down. Please.”
She nodded. His hand steadied her as she retook her seat. As soon as she did, he withdrew back to his side of the couch. Elizabeth drew in a deep breath, collecting herself.
“Everyone, please, sit down. Let Miss Kitty speak and I’m sure we’ll have our answers,” Lady Lucas said, her voice pitched to carry.
Everyone returned to their seats, Kitty taking the nearest available spot. Arthur and Susan endeavored to look small, obviously worried to be sent away from something so interesting.
“Now, Kitty dear, tell us what happened,” Lady Lucas said, her tone soothing. “Arthur, Susan, go tell cook we require tea, and some of those little cakes from dinner. You may each have two.”
Their faces moving from petulant to ecstatic over the course of their mother’s orders, the youngest two Lucas children jumped up and darted off toward the kitchen.
“Kitty?” Elizabeth said, finally finding her voice.
Kitty swallowed, looking around at all the faces. “A letter came from Colonel Forster.” Kitty’s tone was breathless and babbling. “Mr. Collins brought it over, but Mama didn’t open it, thinking it was another letter of condolence, but when Mr. Collins brought over a second letter from Colonel Forster, she opened it. Colonel Forster discovered they probably didn’t go to Scotland. He believes they’re somewhere in London and . . .” She let out a little sob. “And n—n—not married.” Covering her face with her hands, Kitty dissolved into tears.
Elizabeth went to her sister, kneeling before Kitty and taking her hands. Murmuring nonsensical things, she tried to sooth Kitty, though she knew the situation was dire indeed. When her sobs subsided, Kitty offered a watery smile.
“Mama is so upset, Lizzy. I think she’ll make herself truly ill.”
Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hands. “We’ll take care of her. Has anything been done?”
“Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and Jane are going back to London. They likely already left. Uncle Gardiner says he’ll find Lydia, but I don’t know what g-good that will d-d-”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her crying sister. Behind her, she heard the tea arrive. Moments later, Lady Lucas was there. As Elizabeth moved back, Lady Lucas pressed a cup of tea into Kitty’s hands. Kitty gave her a grateful smile.
“You should have a cup as well, Elizabeth,” Lady Lucas said, pouring another.
Elizabeth took the seat beside Kitty, vacated earlier by Susan. She watched Lady Lucas fix the tea to her liking, then add extra sweetener. When she passed Elizabeth the cup, Lady Lucas’ face held sympathy but no condemnation.
Elizabeth was grateful for that. Lydia’s actions changed Elizabeth from a poor, but respectable, gentleman’s daughter, to a poor houseguest from a family with a scandal. Lady Lucas would be within her rights to put Elizabeth out, despite anything she’d ever done for Charlotte. Some would even say it was the advisable thing to do, with two impressionable young daughters and an unmarried hei
r in the house.
It wasn’t until Elizabeth had taken several sips of her tea that she looked around and realized Mr. Darcy was gone. She wondered if the scandal was too much for him. He surely wasn’t accustomed to associating with families whose daughters ran about with men, out of wedlock. Then, neither was she.
Elizabeth walked back to Pine Cottage with Kitty, aware of the strain in her younger sister. When they arrived, Elizabeth was glad she’d come. Not because it was at all enjoyable. Her mother railed and raved, cried, moaned and repeatedly declared her own demise was at hand. She also ranted bitterly about Mr. Bennet’s evil in leaving them.
What pleased Elizabeth was to aid Kitty in her new life as their mother’s soul companion, unless Lydia returned. It was obvious Kitty bore too much of their mother’s woe, and needed someone else to listen to Mrs. Bennet blame everyone for everything, and anyone but herself and Lydia for their new hardship.
When Mary arrived, over two hours later, Elizabeth took the opportunity to say her farewells for the day. Mrs. Bennet complained, but Elizabeth told her mother she had duties at Lucas Lodge and had to leave. This spurred a round of Mrs. Bennet’s worn monologue about Elizabeth not wedding Mr. Collins when he offered for her. Even though that litany was nearly soothing compared to Mrs. Bennet’s sobs about Lydia, Elizabeth still made her escape. To her surprise, John Lucas was waiting outside and fell in with her as she started walking.
“I was hoping we could talk,” he said. “There’s no privacy at Lucas Lodge.”
Believing in Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 8