One Autumn with Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Anthology

by Fairbanks,Rose

  “Impossible.” Elizabeth made to argue but Anne silenced her. “Oh, I can perfectly believe he was a bear at the assembly but he thought very highly of you in his letters. He certainly was not mocking you. I will allow you to read them if you persist in disbelieving me.”

  Although Elizabeth said it was unnecessary, a small package from Anne arrived the next day. Elizabeth read them in secret. Indeed, some passing words were acknowledging of her performance on the pianoforte or witty remarks. He thought her clever. Of greater interest to Elizabeth than assigning romantic meaning to his statements, which she attributed to Anne’s over-active imagination, was Mr. Darcy’s concern for Anne’s health. He genuinely cared for his cousin and inquired after his aunt and matters at Rosings. He did not think it above Anne’s intelligence to relay some problem from Pemberley and took her advice into consideration. By the time Elizabeth came to the portion of his confession about Bingley considering an imprudent marriage, she considered it in a different light entirely.

  What must it be like to be cared for by such a man? Her marriage had been imprudent. While her relations did present reasons against it, they did not seem to do so with the lively interest Darcy had for Bingley. She grew entirely ashamed of herself for ever thinking so badly of Darcy.

  With the realization that it was all due to her dreadful vanity, she said goodbye to Anne and Lady Catherine for their London visit. Without the variance of having Rosings to visit, Elizabeth suggested her husband spend more time in the garden. Her time was consumed with solitary walks full of reflection. Reading letters from Jane and her romance with Bingley gave Elizabeth the greatest joy. Marriage to Mr. Collins could never be more than bearable, but when at last Jane wrote that she had been offered and accepted Bingley’s hand in marriage, Elizabeth believed her kindness fully repaid.

  A fortnight later brought dreadful news. The warmer weather helped facilitate the spread of a fever outbreak. As more and more fell ill, Bingley considered opening Netherfield and returning Jane to Longbourn, but Mrs. Gardiner, in the middle months of pregnancy, fell ill. Jane stayed to help the children. Bingley would not leave London without her. Their marriage was delayed until everyone was recovered.

  By the end of the Season, Jane wrote that Mr. Darcy fell ill with the sickness. Upon Lady Catherine’s return, she harangued Elizabeth. How dare Jane suppose an engagement to one of her nephew’s circle? What terrible illness did she and her tradesman family spread to her ladyship’s nephew when they visited at Gracechurch Street? And did not Lady Catherine give Jane such excessive attention this spring? This was to be her thanks! She had even dined with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in March. How dare they become ill after meeting her. Elizabeth wondered how she had ever thought Lady Catherine like her nephew.

  July passed with Lady Catherine barely acknowledging the Hunsford family at all. Anne and Elizabeth’s meetings were consigned to chance in the grove. All keenly worried for the welfare of Mr. Darcy as well as the others sick in Town. Mr. Collins could scarcely keep references to pestilence and plagues out of his sermons.

  Two letters in August brought the most terrible news of all.

  Chapter Seven

  August 4, 1812

  Darcy House, London

  “Mr. Darcy,” his valet, said while shaking him awake. “Sir, Mr. Bingley says it is an emergency.”

  “Leave off, Haines,” Darcy shrugged and rolled over. He had been ill with the fever afflicting many in London but he had little true desire to overcome it. Perhaps in death, there would be relief from the torment of knowing Elizabeth married another. He had returned Bingley to Jane and they were engaged. Georgiana was nearly seventeen. She was no longer a child.

  He had no purpose in life and no reason to fight the infection. He had not left his bed in weeks. Instead, he welcomed the times delirium claimed him. Then, he would dream of Elizabeth. Except, it had been over a week since his fever broke and he no longer felt consuming fatigue in his bones. It was a persistent, soul-crushing melancholy that now filled him.

  “He says it involves a shared acquaintance. A Mrs. Collins.”

  Darcy rolled to face his servant. “He said it was an emergency?”

  “Yes. He swore you would wish to know. Shall I send him in?”

  “Yes,” Darcy said and eased himself out of bed. He waved off Haines, determined that he could manage a few feet on his own. After putting on his robe, he hobbled to a chair near the fireplace.

  “Darcy,” Bingley rushed in. “I know you are ill but there is no time to delay. You might have invaluable information.”

  “Good God, man! What is it! What has happened to Elizabeth!”

  “Mrs. Collins? She is perfectly well, last I heard. She ought to be at Longbourn by now. It is Lydia--the youngest sister.”

  Darcy relaxed a minuscule amount. “Is she not in Brighton?”

  “She was. Now we do not know where she has gone off to but it does not seem to Scotland.”

  “Scotland!”

  “She has eloped! With Mr. Wickham!”

  Darcy’s heart thudded. He would never be free of that despicable man. Months ago, Anne had written to him pleading to explain Darcy’s history with Wickham to Elizabeth. Anne did not discern, at the time, that he was in love with her friend—that letter came later—but she cared deeply that her friend respect and esteem Darcy. He was vain enough and hurt by Elizabeth’s clear dislike that he had wanted her to know. Now, it seemed he had been a fool and allowed matters to be explained to the wrong sister. Elizabeth was Mrs. Collins and instead of exposing Wickham to her—who would never break that trust and share his private concerns with others—Darcy knew he ought to have exposed Wickham to others in Hertfordshire, to his colonel at the least.

  “What is being done to recover her?” Darcy asked his friend.

  “Colonel Forster has followed as far as he could find reports of them but was left stumped some miles outside of London. They hired a hackney instead of getting on a post carriage, so they certainly are not bound for Scotland. They must be hiding somewhere in Town. Mr. Bennet arrived at the Gardiners’ this morning.”

  “He cannot mean to really marry her, she is not rich enough for him. Yes, I agree he would not go to Scotland.”

  “Jane will make herself ill with worry. She wishes to be at Longbourn but Mrs. Gardiner still needs her. Can you help? Do you know of any acquaintances of Wickham’s?”

  Darcy was quiet for a moment. Wickham never seemed to keep friends for long, but he did charm ladies. It was possible he kept his association with Georgiana’s former companion—the one who helped convince her to elope with Wickham. He would have to make inquiries about her first, but if she tried to be respectable in any way, it should not prove very hard to find her.

  “I think I can be of use,” Darcy said. “With any luck, we will know more in the morning. Ring for Haines.”

  When the servant appeared, Darcy gave him instructions to discreetly find the lady and Bingley returned to his chambers. Feeling a renewed sense of purpose, Darcy felt invigorated. Wickham must be found and Lydia’s reputation restored. Darcy knew Elizabeth must be suffering acutely. He hoped to convince Lydia to return to her family.

  Upon waking in the morning, Haines had gained the location of Mrs. Younge. She owned a boarding house on Edwards Street. Darcy and Bingley visited but the woman claimed she had no knowledge of Wickham’s whereabouts.

  *****

  August 7, 1812

  Rosings, Kent

  “Oh Anne! It is in every way terrible!” Elizabeth sobbed on her now best friend’s lap. She had just read a letter from her sister Mary recounting her youngest sister Lydia’s elopement with Mr Wickham.

  “I should have told my family the truth of Wickham after you revealed it. Oh, wretched, wretched mistake!”

  “Shh, Elizabeth. It was not for you to tell, and who could ever guess a sister would act so foolishly?”

  Elizabeth sobbed for a few minutes more, and Anne spoke again. “Elizabeth, look
at me. Your family will need you. If Mr. Collins is to go to London to help your relations, you must take the barouche box to Longbourn.”

  “But your mother…”

  “Leave her to me.”

  Elizabeth arrived at Longbourn the next day.

  “Thank God you are here, Lizzy. Mama keeps asking for you,” Mary said.

  A cry from upstairs echoed down through the hall. Elizabeth shook her head. She had thought her sisters might have been of use in soothing her mother’s nerves. But Jane was still in London as Mrs. Gardiner still suffered from the illness. Elizabeth knew her mother’s other sister would be useless.

  “Tell me everything you did not say in your letter,” Elizabeth said as the girls walked upstairs.

  “I have never seen a person more shocked than Father was upon reading Colonel Forster’s express. After recovering, he determined to follow their trail right away. They had last been seen on the London road and he could think of no other place for them to be so well concealed.”

  “Did he go to my uncle’s for help?”

  “Yes, I received a note two days ago that Mr. Gardiner was assisting him.”

  “If the letter had not been misdirected, I would have come earlier.”

  “Certainly the addition of Mr. Collins will be helpful,” Mary said.

  Elizabeth did not reply. She had little hope that her husband could be of any real use.

  “Oh, Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet wailed upon sight of her second daughter. “Can you believe it? Your father ran off to London where he will get sick and die. I know it. My only consolation is that you married Mr. Collins and so we will not be thrown out of the house before he is cold in his grave.”

  “Mama!” Her daughters exclaimed.

  “How could she do this to me? It is that wretched Wickham!”

  Elizabeth looked at Mary for some explanation about her mother’s changed feelings about the man. “Meryton is full of rumours. He left the area heavily in debt. They say he is a gamester.”

  “I had said we should all go to Brighton. Lydia is never any trouble as long as there is someone to look after her. Those Forsters must have neglected her.” Mrs. Bennet cried, eager to blame anyone but herself. “Pray, Lizzy, that Mr. Collins is more mindful of your opinion than your father is of mine. My thoughts are always thrown over.”

  “Hush, Mama,” Elizabeth said and prepared her mother tea with a dose of sherry. Anne had told her it was a concoction sometimes slipped to Lady Catherine to soothe her. Some minutes later, Mrs. Bennet was calmed and dozing. At dinner, Elizabeth attempted to eat with her sisters but Kitty seemed too excusing of Lydia’s behaviour, envious as she was that Lydia garnered Wickham’s affections. Mary was too condemning. Elizabeth pleaded exhaustion and retired to bed early. She truly was fatigued and had been all summer.

  *****

  August 15, 1812

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  A week of hysterics from her mother and solemnizations from Mary later, Elizabeth awoke before sunrise to a pounding on the front door. All were frightened what news another express would bring but only Elizabeth was brave enough to take the letter in hand. “It is my uncle’s writing,” she told the others when assembled in Mrs. Bennet’s room.

  As she read the short message, her eyes filled with tears and the letter fluttered to the ground. She descended into sobs.

  “Lydia! Lydia!” Mrs. Bennet cried in alarm as Mary and Kitty clutched each other.

  “Nay, nay.” Elizabeth forced herself to say. “They have been found. They will marry in two weeks’ time.”

  Mrs. Bennet launched herself forward. “This is splendid! Kitty, call my maid. I shall get dressed and see Lady Lucas.”

  “There is more, Papa and Jane have taken ill.”

  Mrs. Bennet shrieked and then collapsed. When she came to, she insisted on going to London. “Oh! Why did I let her stay in London at all? I think my brother and his wife used us very ill indeed. They could have sent her back to us but instead employed her to nurse their children. And now what has happened? They are all recovered and Jane, my beautiful, sweet Jane will die. And before she could marry Bingley! A man of five thousand a year!”

  Elizabeth, who was nearly numb with grief, took exception to her mother’s words. “Is that all you care about? The money? Why not that she is your daughter and irreplaceable? Why are you not, at least, upset that Jane may never get to marry Mr. Bingley when she loves him so much?”

  “If your Father should die…”

  “If my Father should die then I will be mistress of Longbourn. I have already seen to that, Mother! I had thought you could be at peace, knowing that you and my sisters would be taken care of due to my marriage. But it is never enough for you. You would have sold Jane on a butcher block if it put more pence in your pocket!” Elizabeth fled the room for her own and slammed the door. She slumped against it and cried until the sun began to rise higher. As much as she desired to cave into her desires and sleep until she could forget the pain of almost losing a sister, she knew her family needed her. When her father returned, Elizabeth would return to her home in Kent and indulge in her feelings there.

  She stretched her sore limbs and stood, immediately feeling light headed. The sensation soon passed and Elizabeth determined she must be faint from hunger. She barely ate last night and was too upset to eat at breakfast the day before. In the breakfast room, she made up her plate and coffee. One sip sent her running for a chamber pot. Mary came upon her.

  “Lizzy! You are not taking ill are you?”

  “No,” she replied. “I have had no contact with anyone from London, other than Miss de Bourgh, who returned weeks ago. It must be all the upheaval of the last week.”

  Upon attempting to stand, Elizabeth felt dizzy again. Mary assisted her to her room. “Rest, Lizzy. Kitty has gone to tell Maria Lucas the news of Lydia...and Jane and Papa. I have sent a note to our Aunt Phillips. We will be attended.”

  Elizabeth begrudgingly noted the wisdom and laid abed. She felt stronger in the afternoon but fatigue soon compelled her to her room again. Her childhood room brought no comfort. Although Jane had been away for most of the year, there were remnants of her everywhere and a lifetime of shared memories. Elizabeth considered a year ago they had never heard the names of Collins, Bingley, Wickham, or Darcy.

  Mr. Collins, however, could not be forgotten. A letter from him arrived the following day. He had already returned to Kent at the first sign of illness from Mr. Bennet and Jane, although he had not stayed at Gracechurch Street and had only met Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner for a few minutes’ on the day of his arrival. He did not dare stay and anger Lady Catherine. Not knowing that Lydia was found, he encouraged Elizabeth to stay at Longbourn until Lydia was either married to Wickham or enough time had passed that Lady Catherine’s sensibilities could be calmed and possibly forget that her parson’s wife had a harlot sister.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Lydia and Wickham’s conduct has been such that neither I nor anybody can possibly forget it, let alone Lady Catherine. I may as well be banished here for the rest of my life,” she said to herself on an afternoon walk. While she did not miss Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine, Hunsford had become her home. A married lady returned to her father’s house must always be discontent. Even more so when faced with the reality that her husband cared nothing at all for her family or the one he had established with her. He would never treat her cruelly, but Lady Catherine would always be first in his affections. At least, until he was master of Longbourn, which Elizabeth could never wish for especially as her father lay sick in London.

  Chapter Eight

  August 29, 1812

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  A fortnight passed in the same manner. Elizabeth became ill in the morning, recovered as the day went on, but then exhaustion claimed her in the afternoon and far earlier than usual each night. Instead of worrying about herself, her thoughts remained with her family, until a visit from Charlotte Lucas.

  “How d
oes marriage suit you,” Charlotte asked Elizabeth after initial inquiries about the invalids in London and the expected date for Lydia’s wedding.

  “I have no complaints,” Elizabeth said evasively.

  “I am glad to see I was correct.”

  Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Recall that we have been married for less than a year. It is rather early for me to declare that I am as happy with him as I could have been with any man. That sort of reflection must wait until the end of one’s life. Surely true vexation and trial shall come later.”

  “I am sure you are correct,” Charlotte said. “Only, when I said those words I was counselling you to take a firm offer of marriage rather than cling to your notions of infatuation and love for a man it could never be with. As you are not miserable with your husband, I am glad to see that those feelings died away upon your marriage.”

  “My dear Charlotte, as I told my father, Mr. Wickham was only an interesting acquaintance and handsome man. I had barely spoken to him before Mr. Collins’ proposal. I was hardly in love with him.”

  “I had rather thought you were in love with Mr. Darcy,” Charlotte whispered.

  “Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth nearly dropped her teacup. “I never spoke to him but wishing to cause him pain.”

  “Precisely. His words could not have wounded you so deeply if you had not been interested in him and desired his good opinion. You were angry you did not meet his approval and saw no hope with him. I suspect it is also why Miss Bingley treated you so terribly, and by extension your sister. But then, if Miss Bingley felt threatened then I rather worried she perceived Mr. Darcy returned your affections.”