Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  “I agree. Would you like to talk about it?”

  He stood and walked toward the two matching chairs near the door to the balcony. Motioning to them, he said, “Please, let us sit down.” Olivia did as he asked and he followed suit, taking the chair opposite her.

  He wasted no time in getting to the point. “Elizabeth wrote this letter after Richard talked with her on their journey to Pemberley. I asked him not to say anything, but you know Richard.”

  Olivia smiled. “I do.”

  “In the letter, Elizabeth allows that she was deeply sorry for misjudging my character and not giving me any benefit of the doubt. She wrote that she hoped one day I would forgive her and want her as my wife again.”

  “I am not surprised, for she confessed the same thing to me a short while after she arrived. Why would this upset you? I would think it would please you to know that she realised her mistakes so soon.”

  “It makes me sad because, in hindsight, I see my own glaring mistakes. How arrogant I was to think she should blindly trust my character, though she hardly knew me; not to mention that she witnessed Susan kiss me at the Matlocks’ ball. After her tongue-lashing, I was so focused on my own pain that I was blind to hers. I never explained anything to her, so she had every right to believe me a cad.”

  “I would not go so far as that, though I see her point of view as well as yours. She told me that the Gardiners vouched for your character, and since they are, by her own admission, like parents to Elizabeth, she should have trusted their judgement. And, as you say, you should have taken the time to explain to Elizabeth. So I believe there is plenty of blame to share. What matters now is what happens in the future.”

  Quivering with restrained grief, William said, “I pray there is a future. I have this curious feeling that something is wrong—that she left Pemberley for reasons other than her aunt’s health.”

  “That is what I wished to speak to you about. I believe that quite possibly Elizabeth overheard something that sealed her determination to leave Pemberley.”

  William’s expression darkened. “Why do you think that?”

  Olivia held out a book. “Mrs. O’Reilly found this book on the floor of the sitting room just outside your door. I was with Elizabeth in her study when she found it. She said that she wanted to read a poem to you when she returned to your bedroom. That was yesterday evening.”

  William took the book. “Lord Byron’s poetry. Yes, we often read these poems after we were reconciled.”

  “You remember that?”

  “I do. In fact, I am beginning to remember a lot more.”

  “Thank the Lord!”

  “May I ask what this book has to do with her leaving?”

  “She had the book when she left her study and evidently dropped it just outside your door. Not realising that she had dropped something does not sound like the Elizabeth I know. If she was upset and trying to flee, it would make more sense.”

  “My Lord! She must have heard my argument with Georgiana!”

  “What argument?”

  “I have not had time to tell you, but after Richard and I talked yesterday, Georgiana slipped into my bedroom to confront me.”

  “What was the problem?”

  William proceeded to explain all that had been taken place between the two of them. By the time he was finished, Olivia had paled considerably.

  “Oh my goodness! Then it is possible that she overheard you tell Georgiana that the child could not possibly be yours!”

  “Why would that bother Elizabeth? After all, would she not be glad that Susan’s child is not mine?”

  “Fitzwilliam, you must prepare yourself for some unsettling news, for what I have to confess will come as a shock.”

  William stiffened. “What do you need to tell me, Aunt?”

  An acute note of distress characterised Olivia’s explanation. “Elizabeth may be pregnant—in fact, she is quite certain she is, though she has not felt the quickening yet. She confessed this to me when you were first brought home injured.”

  Stung by his regrets and impatient, a retort leaped to William’s lips. “I cannot believe that she would keep something so important a secret from me.” Then he looked to Olivia, “If you knew, why did you not tell me?”

  “Your wife swore everyone that suspected to secrecy, saying she could not add to your worries while you were so ill. And, to be honest, when you awakened, you acted so coldly towards her that she was afraid to broach the subject.”

  He groaned, running his hands through his hair. “There, you see! It is my fault! I should have remembered our marriage vows, regardless of my injuries!”

  Olivia stood and went to him, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. “You cannot blame yourself. You were ill. If you could have chosen to remember, I have no doubt that you would have. It was a cruel twist of fate, nothing more.”

  “But to Elizabeth I must have appeared so callous—heartless even. In fact, I know I was, for I worried more about having been trapped into the marriage, than about how she felt.”

  “To your credit, you came around quickly.”

  “Not quickly enough. If not for Richard’s lecture—” A river of shame washed over William, and he could no longer sit still. Standing, he began to pace. “Oh Aunt Olivia, if Elizabeth thinks I do not want our child, she may never come home.” With a treacherous throb in his voice, he added, “What if she just disappears? I have to go after her.”

  “Now, now, Fitzwilliam, calm down. I have written to Madeline Gardiner to enquire of her health, and as soon as I receive her reply, we shall know if Elizabeth’s excuse for leaving was valid. Besides, you have not been granted permission to travel as yet.”

  Aghast at his own helplessness William exclaimed, “A letter can take forever! I must see her now. I must explain!”

  “I sent my letter by express, so it will not take long to hear from Mrs. Gardiner. Besides, Richard said that you were going to talk with Georgiana tomorrow, and I think it best that you deal with her before Elizabeth returns.”

  His heart sank. “If Elizabeth returns.”

  Olivia grasped his hand, affecting a tone of gayety. “She will. She loves you more than you will ever know.”

  A stifling sensation of pain caused him to stutter. “I... I pray you are right, for I have finally realised the depth of my love for Elizabeth. I ache to see her—to hold her in my arms. And, while I appreciate your counsel, after I talk to Georgiana I will make plans to travel to London. I cannot just sit and wait while she wonders if I care. It will drive me mad.”

  “You are right and if Richard will accompany you, the trip may not be as taxing on your health. At least I know that he will make you get adequate rest along the way.”

  “Will I ever outgrow the need for your counsel?” William asked, with a wan smile.

  Olivia stood on her tiptoes to give his cheek a kiss. “Not as long as I am alive.”

  Chapter 45

  Briarwood Manor

  The next day

  The morning sun, peeking through a partially closed curtain, fell across Elizabeth’s face, causing her to squint and then awaken. Sitting upright, she noted that she was still in the same gown she had worn when she left Pemberley. Suddenly, all that had happened since then came rushing back, and she glanced around the room for Betsey. Seeing that the maid was asleep on a large sofa next to the hearth, her thoughts flew immediately to Mr. Bingley, for the last she had seen of Charles, he was sprawled face-first on the ground.

  Throwing aside the blanket covering her, she slid from the bed and rushed to one of the tall windows, pulling back a heavy curtain. It had rained so hard when they arrived that she had seen little of the estate as they were rushed inside and could make out nothing from the windows because of the downpour. As her forehead crinkled in examination of the few buildings that were visible, Betsey spoke.

  “Not much to see,” she murmured sleepily. “I tried to figure out if I could escape through a window, but there are no trees
nearby, and the walls go straight down. The doors are locked, so it seems that we are imprisoned.”

  Elizabeth pushed open a window to peer at the ground below. “So it seems.”

  “I wonder if they have already sent Mr. Darcy a ransom demand.”

  Suddenly, the sound of a key in the lock gave notice that someone was about to enter the room. At length the door flew back, revealing a middle-aged woman, most likely the housekeeper as she wore a ring of keys at her waist, and a young maid. A footman stood behind them in the hallway.

  As the young woman brought in a tray loaded with food and drink, the older woman said, “This will have to suffice for the both of you. You will be kept together for as long as you are here.”

  Elizabeth’s courage rose. “And what is your name?”

  The old servant’s chin lifted bravely. “I am Mrs. Goode, the housekeeper.”

  “And just where are we being held?”

  “That will be for the master to say, ma’am.”

  “Well, Mrs. Goode, I demand to see him this morning.” The servants exchanged guarded looks. “Surely he is not afraid to meet with a mere woman?”

  After a long silence, the housekeeper replied, “I shall tell the master that you wish to speak to him.”

  Elizabeth thanked the woman, and just as swiftly as they had appeared, they left the room. Elizabeth walked over to the table and began uncovering the dishes. Her stomach growled, and she realised she had not eaten anything the night before because she was too upset.

  “It shall do neither of us any good to starve,” she said to Betsey. “Please partake of whatever appeals to you.”

  Betsey seemed hesitant, and Elizabeth understood her reluctance was most likely due to the fact that she had always eaten in the servant’s quarters at Pemberley.

  “This is no time to adhere to tradition, Betsey. We must keep up our strength.”

  THEY HAD NO MORE THAN finished eating when there was a knock at the door. As both women turned, it opened to reveal that Mrs. Goode had returned.

  “The master will see you now. Follow me.”

  Elizabeth rose, and with a nod to Betsey, she followed the housekeeper out the door, which was immediately locked behind her. As she trailed the woman down several different hallways, Elizabeth noted that the house resembled Netherfield in many ways, though it was evident that it had seen better days. The walls were in grave need of a new coat of paint, and the rugs were worn in many places. Lost in trying to see every detail, Elizabeth was surprised when the housekeeper abruptly stopped, then entered an open door. Taking a deep breath, she followed her inside, just as she heard her name mentioned.

  “Mrs. Darcy, your lordship,” the old servant announced.

  The room was dim, the curtains were closed, and there was only one candelabrum lit in the entire room. It took a moment for Elizabeth’s eyes to adjust, but just as she made out the figure of a man sitting in a tall chair next to a window, he stood, startling her.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Darcy,” he said offhandedly. “Mrs. Goode said that you wished to speak to me. Is there something that you need?”

  Though Elizabeth could not make out his face, the tone of his address caused her to seethe with anger. Sounding much braver than she felt, she retorted, “Do not speak to me as though I am a guest, sir. I am your prisoner! Hence I wished to confront the one who kidnapped me and my party.”

  “And so you have. You may call me Baron Acton.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “No. But your husband knows me well. That is why you are here.”

  Elizabeth studied that assertion for a long moment, deciding not to question his allegation just yet. “I wish to see Mr. Bingley. I saw him brutally attacked on the road by your ruffians, and I would like to know that he is well.”

  “I am afraid that is not possible; however, I swear to you that Mr. Bingley is doing quite well, despite the knot on his head. He is being held in another wing of the house, along with all the men who were on the coach.” Again he talked as though nothing was the matter, and Elizabeth was about to question his sanity when he spoke again, “Would you oblige me and come closer? I cannot see well.”

  Elizabeth took a few steps forward, pausing awkwardly when she could clearly see his features. He had ginger hair, long and extremely curly, pulled back in a queue and tied at the neck with a cord that did not do the job justice. His beard was equally unkempt. Nonetheless, it was the scar that crossed his forehead and cheek that held her spellbound, for it passed through what had been his left eye.

  “I see that you have discovered my scar. I assure you that it makes me appear more fearsome than I actually am.”

  “You are fearsome enough, for kidnapping innocent people for profit is not the exploit of a gentleman.”

  “You are mistaken if you think I took you for monetary gain, though I admit that I will demand a ransom to see if Fitzwilliam cares enough about you to pay it.”

  Elizabeth’s chin lifted in defiance, causing him to smile wryly.

  “Whether you believe it or not, I took you for your own safety. My present condition is witness to how being acquainted with Fitzwilliam Darcy can be disadvantageous to your health. Now that you have left the safety of Pemberley, you have provided those that sought to kill me the perfect opportunity to do the same to you.”

  “I do not take your meaning. Who would want to harm me? Besides, how can you claim such familiarity with me when I do not know you?”

  “You will understand everything soon enough. And, make no mistake, I know all about you, Elizabeth Bennet. I have been following you since you forced Fitzwilliam Darcy to marry you in Hertfordshire.”

  “Fitzwilliam married me of his own free will to protect my reputation and that of my family.”

  “That is not what the gossips said.”

  “I do not care what they said. I know the truth.”

  “It is admirable of you to defend him, especially since he claims no memory of you and in light of the fact that you have left him.” The puzzled look on Elizabeth’s face caused him to continue. “I have spies in his service and other venues, so I know all that has occurred since your marriage. I also know what Darcy claims happened to him—the injury that supposedly caused him to forget you—though I am not convinced that he did not deceive you there as well.”

  “His injury was genuine! I tended him for weeks afterward. It was hardly his fault that he could not remember everything once he regained consciousness. One thing I know for certain—no matter if he has no memories of me, my husband is not the kind of man to harm another person deliberately.”

  “Then why did you leave him when he is still not well? I do not believe your claim that you need to see to your aunt. The rumour among the servants is that you are with child. Do you fear that he will reject your child too?”

  Elizabeth would not let him know of her quandary. “My circumstances are none of your business. William is not himself, and I will never hold his present words and actions against him. I love my husband very much, for the man I came to know and love is truly a good person.”

  “I have to say that your defence of him gives me pause. I have learned that you are not easily persuaded and have a mind of your own. I admire that very much. So, I have to wonder if I may have suspected the wrong man among the few that could be culpable.”

  “Suspect him of what?”

  “You shall learn everything when I confront Fitzwilliam. For now, I would advise you to relax and enjoy your stay at Briarwood Manor.”

  “How can I relax? I am a prisoner, and I have no idea where I am, other than you call it Briarwood.”

  “You would be surprised how close to Pemberley we actually are, as the crow flies. Once Darcy gets my note, it should be less than a day’s time before he comes to claim you... if he claims you. I am eager to see how he responds.”

  Her captor walked past her toward the door, stopping at the last moment to say, “We will both know the truth of my circumstances after I
confront Fitzwilliam. If, after hearing his account, you decide he is not the honourable man you thought him to be, I will protect you.”

  “I can assure you that I will not need your protection.”

  “Wait until after you have heard everything to decide. Now, Mrs. Goode will escort you back to your rooms. If you need anything, just ask and she will see to it.”

  “But how will—”

  He was out the door before she could finish her sentence. The housekeeper reappeared, and Elizabeth followed her back to the rooms that were to be her prison for now. As she walked, she considered all that he had said.

  Will may not remember me, but I am well acquainted with his true character before this awful calamity took him away from me. The man I knew before his accident could never be so heartless as to harm another human being. Baron Acton is wrong!

  PEMBERLEY

  The dining room

  The dawn found William and Richard alone, and with no one else to overhear, they were free to strategize over possible arguments Georgiana might put forward when they confronted her. Having thoroughly discussed the matter, however, Richard was ready to change the subject.

  “Do you wish to visit your mother’s cottage after we talk to Georgiana?”

  “I meant to tell you that that will not be necessary.”

  “Oh?” Richard asked with a puzzled expression.

  “After we talked yesterday, I asked Adams about my boots, and he confirmed that I had come home wet from head-to-toe after a certain picnic with Elizabeth.”

  “I knew it!”

  “After that discussion, I went to her bedroom, just to see if something there might stir more recollections.”

  “And did it work?”

  “Greater than I ever imagined it would. I found the receipt from the establishment where I had commissioned her wedding ring and it unlocked scores of memories. When I recalled the felicity that we had shared before my injury, I was overwhelmed with love for Elizabeth.”

  “I am so pleased, Cousin.”