Elizabeth Bennet's Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

by Regina Jeffers

  “I shall return long enough to claim my trunk. Hannah and I will go to Lambton to claim the next coach.”

  “Did you not hear Jatson say the staff has orders not to go into the village until the illness knows an end?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew in disbelief.

  “Then Hannah and I shall walk to Lambton,” she asserted.

  “I cannot permit you to depart, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Do you mean to provide your cousin a second chance to humiliate me?”

  The colonel shook off Elizabeth’s remarks.

  “When we set a course for Pemberley, I chose a coachman and a footman from Darcy’s staff who knew the disease previously. On the journey I paid the two innkeepers extra to clean the rooms we used thoroughly after our departure. I do not know how this illness spreads; and although we are no longer susceptible to the symptoms, how do we know we do not carry it to others? I will return to London after I am assured the Darcys will recover. You and the maid may again travel with me.”

  Elizabeth felt the anger seep from her body.

  “I do not wish others to become ill at my expense. But know I shall not accept Mr. Darcy’s charity. Hannah and I shall assist Mrs. Reynolds. I am not so fortunate as to turn my mind from being useful.”

  A frown crossed the colonel’s features.

  “I do not imagine Darcy would be pleased to know such circumstances.”

  “Then I suggest, Colonel, you do not inform Mr. Darcy of my decision.”

  * * *

  “Did you…find her?” Darcy asked as the colonel reappeared in his chambers.

  Darcy refused Mrs. Reynolds and Sheffield’s attempts to see to his personal needs until he knew something of Elizabeth’s safety. If he were not so weak, Darcy would have chased Elizabeth down himself.

  “I did,” Fitzwilliam said with a touch of humor. “Your lady is quite the walker: Miss Elizabeth was more than a third of the way to the gatehouse. If I did not take the path through the woods, I might have missed her.”

  Darcy was well acquainted with both Elizabeth’s love of long walks and her determination.

  “Yet, the lady…returned to Pemberley?” Darcy pressed.

  “She has,” the colonel confirmed. “But not willingly. Miss Elizabeth means to place distance between you and her.”

  Despite Darcy’s best efforts the familiar pang of loss claimed his heart.

  “Did you offer…an explanation…for my harsh words?’

  “I believe the apology must come from your lips, but I did express my opinion on how Miss Elizabeth misconstrued your words. Even so, the lady was not in an understanding mood. I suspect you must grovel if you wish to win Miss Elizabeth’s affections.”

  Darcy would gladly grovel if Elizabeth would permit him near her again.

  “Would you sit…with me…for a few minutes? I would hear…how Miss Elizabeth…came to be at Pemberley.”

  * * *

  The colonel led Elizabeth to her assigned chamber before he returned to the private quarters. The room was exquisitely done: a soft green upon the walls and forest green draperies against the walnut woodwork, along with gold accents upon the cording. Sachets of pine needles gave the room a clean, fresh scent. The counterpane was a creamy gold, but it was a seat built into the window, which claimed Elizabeth’s interest, and she curled up in it. Her mind and body knew exhaustion from the earlier turmoil. Arms wrapped about her knees, she looked blindly out upon a view of the lake.

  “How could I have erred so egregiously?” she asked the emptiness crawling into every corner of her soul. “Because that dratted man wanted me to believe he cared for me!” Elizabeth dug in her sleeve for the damp handkerchief she stuffed there earlier. “I walked into Mr. Darcy’s perfectly constructed revenge,” she chastised. “In Kent, I injured his pride, and Mr. Darcy repaid me fully. At least, I shall not need to encounter him over the next few days. By the time Mr. Darcy is well enough to leave his bed, I shall be on the road to London and then to Longbourn.”

  A fresh swell of tears claimed Elizabeth.

  “I wished upon the stars like a addled schoolgirl.”

  A shoulder-racking sob cut off the remainder of her recitation of lost hopes. Elizabeth gave herself up to the sorrow.

  How long she remained as such, Elizabeth could not say, but Hannah’s entrance had Elizabeth springing to her feet.

  “Did they treat you well below stairs?” Elizabeth asked as she dabbed at her eyes.

  “Oh, yes, Miss. Most welcoming.” The maid shifted her weight from foot-to-foot. “Were you able to see Mr. Darcy?” Hannah asked tentatively.

  “Yes.”

  “Did the gentleman welcome your presence in his home?”

  Elizabeth’s expression took on iron grimness.

  “I imagine what you wish to know is whether the tales below stairs are accurate.” She sighed with resignation. “If Mr. Darcy’s servants spoke of their master driving me from his quarters, then they spoke the truth. I am an intruder. Unfortunately, we cannot assume the responsibility of delivering the measles to unsuspecting innocents by returning to Cheapside by public conveyance. Therefore, we shall remain in Derbyshire until Colonel Fitzwilliam is prepared to return to London. Three or four days at most. You should know I refused Mr. Darcy’s voluntary provisions, and I mean to be of use to Mrs. Reynolds and the gentleman’s staff. I shall repay Mr. Darcy for every penny he expends to house us during this stay.”

  Hannah’s eyes grew large with bewilderment.

  “Oh, no, Miss. Mr. Gardiner would tan my hide if’n I permitted you to work as you describe. I shall act in your stead.”

  “First, we both know Uncle Gardiner is a fair master, and you have nothing to fear at his hand,” Elizabeth insisted. “As to the work, I do not fear a few sore muscles, and I must act or be forever indebted to a man who would take great pleasure in bandying my name about at social gatherings. Rather than permitting Mr. Darcy the pleasure of bringing me low, I choose to act with aid. Then the gentleman cannot speak ill of me.”

  “Yours appears a great sacrifice, Miss, if’n you ask me.”

  * * *

  “Are you new…to my staff?” Darcy asked in the kindest tone he could muster.

  Darcy spent a restless night attempting to construct a means to make amends to Elizabeth Bennet, but he could think of nothing other than to intrude upon the privacy she claimed under his roof. Frustration settled into his bones when Darcy learned of Elizabeth taking her meals in her quarters rather than joining the colonel in the estate’s dining room.

  The maid backed from the bed.

  “I apologize, Sir,” she said with an awkward curtsy. “I did not mean to disturb you.”

  Belatedly, Darcy noticed the chamber pot she held.

  “You did not…disturb me,” Darcy reassured. “I simply did not…recognize you.” He nodded to the chamber pot. “Mr. Sheffield…can handle that.”

  “I believe your valet assists the colonel, Sir.” The maid’s voice trembled.

  Darcy sighed with an ache of annoyance.

  “Very well…but tell me…your name. You possess…a familiar countenance…now that I…look closer. I make it…a point…to know the name…of all those…in my employ.” A round of tear-producing coughs shook Darcy’s chest. “I apologize…for forgetting your name. Surely, Mrs. Reynolds…told me of you.”

  “No, Sir.” The maid bobbed another curtsy. “I am Hannah. You saw me a time or two at the Gardiners’ house. I am assisting Miss Elizabeth with the sick.” News of Elizabeth had Darcy shoving himself higher in the bed. “Miss Elizabeth is tending your servants, Sir. One of the grooms and his boy took ill today. She assumed their care while Mrs. Reynolds sees to your sister.”

  Darcy’s lips tightened in disapproval.

  “There are enough…among Pemberley’s staff…to tend…the ill…without Miss Elizabeth…staining her hands.”

  It was the maid’s turn to frown.

  “Miss Elizabeth is the most openhanded
of creatures, Sir.”

  “I am well aware…of Miss Elizabeth’s…finer qualities.” Darcy’s mood darkened.

  Realizing she overstepped her bounds, a blush claimed the girl’s cheeks.

  “Mrs. Reynolds set those who are healthy to cleaning Pemberley thoroughly so others do not become ill: Miss Elizabeth be doing her part.”

  The fact Elizabeth engendered the maid’s loyalty did not surprise Darcy.

  “Please tell…Miss Elizabeth…I wish to see her…when she completes…her duties.” Each breath Darcy took rattled in his chest like the sound of old keys in an empty box.

  The maid blushed a second time.

  “I shall tell her, Sir, but I doubt it will do much good. I overhears Miss Elizabeth tell Mrs. Reynolds that she would never enter Pemberley’s private quarters again. Once was enough.”

  * * *

  Darcy sent Sheffield to the attic to bring down a rolling chair Darcy’s late father used when George Darcy slipped and broke his leg several years back. Darcy should be in bed tending the splitting headache, which lodged between his temples; he should know sleep, but instead Darcy dressed to call upon his sister and hopefully to encounter Elizabeth within Pemberley’s passages. Waiting for the infuriating woman to come to him was like waiting to view the sun during the night sky.

  “How goes the illness?” Darcy asked his sister. Mr. Sheffield wheeled Darcy into Georgiana’s quarters before the valet sought out the presence of Miss Elizabeth to satisfy Darcy’s curiosity.

  Georgiana reached for his hand.

  “I am pleased to see you. I missed you.”

  “And I you,” Darcy claimed the hand she offered. “ He noticed that Georgiana did not struggle to breath as he did. Perhaps, his sister knew less of the disease, as Mrs. Reynolds declared. Darcy prayed that the fact. “It grieves me…I brought illness…to your door.”

  “None of that, William,” Georgiana chastised. Her smile spread across her lips. “We always share everything.”

  Despite Darcy’s regrets, he returned her smile.

  “I could have chosen new music instead,” he teased.

  “Yes. Mrs. Reynolds claims this particular ‘gift’ comes to us via Mr. Wickham. I suppose I prefer the measles to the alternative.”

  Darcy squeezed the back of her hand.

  “The lesser of two evils?”

  A comfortable pause followed.

  “The colonel says I remain beautiful,” Georgiana shared, at length.

  Darcy’s curiosity piqued.

  “You are never vain. Did you think the measles would scar like the pox?”

  “No. No. Nothing of the kind.” His sister’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Georgiana quickly changed the subject. “Our cousin also says Miss Elizabeth came to Pemberley. I hoped the lady would visit with me, but perhaps she fears catching the disease.”

  “I do not believe…that is the lady’s objection. Miss Elizabeth called upon me…but in my delirium…when I awoke…and saw her there…I ordered Mrs. Reynolds…to remove the lady. I could not understand…Elizabeth’s being there…and I feared…the lady would become…as ill as you and I…that I might lose her…before I could claim her.”

  “Oh, William, surely Miss Elizabeth will understand.”

  “At this point…I am not certain,” Darcy confessed. “She remains at Pemberley…but Miss Elizabeth refuses…to speak to me.” He tapped the arm of the rolling chair. “Thus, I employed a means…of encountering her.”

  Georgiana’s expression crunched up in confusion.

  “Then what Mrs. Reynolds says is true. Miss Elizabeth tends the ill: Dispensing licorice tea for their coughs and ginger tea for their stomach disorders. Demanding that windows be open to permit in fresh air and all surfaces be washed clean with soap and water.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds has…not shared…as such…with me, but the colonel spoke…of Miss Elizabeth’s…unanticipated visit…to Darcy House…where she upset Mrs. Wells…with like demands.”

  “Mrs. Wells is not as kind as Mrs. Reynolds,” Georgian observed.

  “I was not pleased…with the woman’s…obvious disdain…for Miss Elizabeth’s efforts. The lady meant…to protect my household…in my absence. Miss Elizabeth traveled…to Darcy House…with only a maid…to warn Mr. Thacker…to take precautions…against the disease.”

  “Risking censure for calling upon a bachelor household.” Georgiana responded in awe.

  “If the colonel…did not call…on Darcy House…when he learned…of an outbreak…in St. Clements parish…and knowing…I called upon…Mr. Wickham there. Mr. Thacker…might have turned…Miss Elizabeth away.”

  Georgiana’s mouth stood agape.

  “Miss Elizabeth must love you dearly, William.”

  Before Darcy could respond to his sister’s assertion, Sheffield returned.

  “I will call…again later,” Darcy told his sister. “Rest now.”

  With Georgiana’s wish for his continued health, Darcy permitted his valet to wheel him from his sister’s rooms. In the passageway, he asked of Elizabeth.

  “Did you find…Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Yes, but you will not appreciate what the lady does,” Sheffield warned.

  Darcy braced himself for what he knew would be a confrontation; yet, even so, Darcy was not prepared for what he observed from the upper landing. Below him, on the stairs were three maids washing and drying the balustrade and the spindles of the hand railing. It took him several seconds before he realized one of the maids was Elizabeth.

  “What the devil are you about, Elizabeth?’

  * * *

  The familiar voice had Elizabeth’s spine stiffening. Earlier, she donned her least favorite gown and joined the two maids in their duties. Rest would come only after she departed Pemberley. Until that time, Elizabeth meant to drive away her broken heart with hard work.

  “Did you hear me?” Mr. Darcy demanded from above.

  Without turning to look at him, Elizabeth responded.

  “I suspect the whole house heard you, Sir, but permit me to ask.” To the younger of the two maids Elizabeth set her inquiry. “Did you hear the gentleman, Jorie?”

  “Yes, Miss,” the girl responded with downcast eyes.

  “And you, Millie?”

  A whispered “Yes, Miss” came from the older maid.

  Elizabeth continued cleaning the spindles while Jorie dried.

  “It is unanimous, Sir,” Elizabeth said without emotion. “Each of us heard your question. Should I also ask the footman below?”

  “I understand…your impertinence,” Mr. Darcy growled in what sounded of frustration.

  Elizabeth did not respond, busying herself with her task instead.

  “Will you…not speak to me…in private?” the gentleman asked without the earlier rancor.

  Elizabeth stood and picked up one of the buckets of soapy water. However, she did not answer Mr. Darcy’s question. Instead, she spoke to the maids.

  “I believe I shall begin our work in the dining room. When you finish, please join me there.”

  “Yes, Miss,” the maids said in unison.

  From above her, Elizabeth heard a commotion and the protestations of Mr. Darcy’s valet; yet, she continued her descent.

  “No, Sir. You cannot,” Mr. Sheffield declared. “You will fall!”

  It took all of Elizabeth’s hard-earned control not to look back–not to rush to Mr. Darcy’s side.

  “Elizabeth, please!” Mr. Darcy pleaded.

  She halted her steps, but Elizabeth did not turn to look at him. Viewing Mr. Darcy’s features drawn up in urgency would destroy her composure.

  “I never gave you permission to use my Christian name,” Elizabeth said in bitterness. “We do not hold such a familiarity.”

  The household went completely silent.

  “Will you not…have the decency…to call upon…Miss Darcy? At least…do me the favor…of treating my sister…with dignity,” Mr. Darcy charged.

  If not for
her practiced willpower Elizabeth would toss the bucket aside and mount the stairs to box Mr. Darcy’s ears. Yet, she remained still.

  “There is no purpose in forming a friendship of one day. I shall depart Pemberley soon, and Miss Darcy will have no need of my acquaintance.” With a stifled sob, Elizabeth strode away toward the dining room, while ignoring the splash of water upon her gown from where she clutched the bucket so tightly.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next two days brought Darcy no relief: He returned to his bed, but his mind raced to discover a solution. When he fell asleep in an exhausted heap at midnight, Darcy slept all that night and the next day and into the next night’s middle. He awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes searched the darkness for the familiarity of his quarters, the ones he redecorated shortly after his father’s passing.

  Forcing conscious reality to claim him, Darcy sighed in resignation. This would be his life: Even if he married another, he would wake filled with a yearning for only one woman.

  “How could it have gone so wrong?’ he whispered.

  The scene of Elizabeth’s racing from his quarters replayed in his dreams.

  “Why did I not simply catch her to me and claim the affection, which brought Elizabeth to watch over me?” Darcy turned on his side to bury his face in his pillow. “Because I was taught to protect those I affect,” he admitted. “Yet…” Darcy punched the pillow. “Yet, only a fool would send away the woman he adores most in the world. If only I spoke with temperance.”

  The sound of Mr. Sheffield stirring had Darcy pretending to sleep. He wished no one’s pity. His servants witnessed the scene of his argument with Elizabeth. Afterwards, even Sheffield diverted his eyes when his valet insisted upon Darcy’s return to his quarters. Darcy humiliated himself before the people who looked upon him for their future. How were his staff to judge him if he appeared weak?

  “Another example of my cursed tongue saying what I should keep private,” Darcy murmured. “Why did viewing Elizabeth upon her knees rip my heart in two?”

  Although Darcy chose not to give his thoughts voice, he knew his response to Elizabeth’s acting the role of servant was based on the fear he felt when he searched for Wickham, knowing such would be Elizabeth’s life of drudgery if he failed. Most assuredly, Darcy experienced the pain of seeing Elizabeth brought low and at her own hands. It was humbling to realize that she despised him so much she would prefer to scrub his floors than to accept even the smallest token of humanity from him.