Elizabeth Bennet, as she prepares for a walk with her aunt and uncle, reflects upon everything that has happened since her arrival in Derbyshire, as well as her feelings about a certain gentleman.
Elizabeth sat before the dressing table, idly fingering the bristles of her hairbrush as the lush grounds of Pemberley and the estate’s master captivated her mind.
Were her feelings so different than what they were at Hunsford? Yes, they were; but had she changed or was Mr. Darcy truly so different? Perhaps by knowing him better, she understood him more?
His housekeeper’s words echoed in her head. “He is the best landlord, and the best master that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”
Such a man of wealth and consequence had to be a good man indeed to be thought so well of by his servants. Even the gardener, who showed them the grounds, praised his master. In particular, how Mr. Darcy had paid for the apothecary when the loyal servant’s wife was ill.
Mrs. Reynolds and the gardener were not alone in their praise. Not one person she and the Gardiners had come across since arriving in Lambton had an ill word to say of Mr. Darcy.
How could she have misread him so upon their first acquaintance?
Mr. Darcy’s slight at the assembly had to be the culprit! He had wounded her pride and insulted her vanity, and she had never really forgiven him for it. She was accustomed to her mother disregarding her looks in comparison to Jane and Lydia, but not one of their neighbours had ever agreed or made a similar comment.
That evening at the assembly, the local gentlemen were all familiar, and held no interest. Mr. Bingley, while well-looking and amiable, did not stir her emotions in any manner other than friendship.
Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, had intrigued her, which was sure to be why she reacted as she did. Upon reflection, her first thought of him had been of his good looks and his appearance of intelligence. He did not seem a dullard or behave as one with little or no sense.
He himself had admitted, “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.” Could that have played a role in his ill-humour?
Since they had happened upon one another on the grounds of Pemberley, he had been everything amiable and welcoming. The encounter had been awkward, and she had not expected him to make such a gallant attempt to put her at ease. His generous behaviour towards her aunt and uncle, and his enquiries as to the health of her family were a compassion he had never shown during their previous meetings.
After all, his manner and behaviour in Meryton had been so aloof. He often stood, not speaking with anyone, while watching their local society with apparent disdain. His looks had shown particular distaste upon watching the antics of Kitty and Lydia, but his response to her mother’s vulgarity was more pronounced—his entire body would stiffen when she spoke.
While Mr. Darcy’s behaviour had altered since their last meeting, Elizabeth had also grown in understanding of the gentleman’s character. Rather than merely thinking him handsome and learned, she had begun to consider him as one of the best men of her acquaintance.
He could have abused her abominably in the letter after their argument, but he did not. His explanation of the separation of Bingley and Jane rankled upon its first reading, but after further consideration, he had been justified in his concern. Charlotte herself had questioned Jane’s feelings, so why should those emotions be evident to Mr. Darcy.
His explanation of Mr. Wickham illustrated his good character as well. Mr. Darcy paid the man’s debts and honoured his father’s last wishes for his godson to the best of his ability when it was probable that Mr. Wickham did not deserve any sort of recompense for the living at all. Mr. Darcy could have claimed the sum for the debt Mr. Wickham owed him, but he did not.
Now that she recognised Mr. Darcy’s worth, could she dare hope his feelings for her had remained constant? His gaze across the drawing room the night prior had left her heart pounding and her face burning. She now feared her heart might be touched. What if his intentions and wishes had altered since Hunsford?
She could not blame him after her intemperate refusal of his hand. His resentment of her would have been justified as well, yet his invitations to Pemberley and his recent generosity of spirit indicated no such feelings.
“Lizzy?” Her aunt placed a hand to her shoulder with an expression of concern upon her face. “Your uncle and I are to take our walk. Did you still wish to join us?”
“Oh! I apologise. You caught me wool-gathering.”
Her aunt’s smile bore a hint of mischief. “So I noticed, dear. Do go fetch your spencer and gloves, so we can depart.”
With a quick nod, she gathered her outdoor garments, but upon her return, her aunt held two letters. “They were just delivered a moment ago. They are from Jane.”
Perhaps my title is a bit melodramatic, but I thought it fun! This came out of a conversation with Elizabeth Adams and we were giggling at something I did once. I won’t go into specifics, but you get a little short out of it. It’s a bit silly, but I hope you enjoy it 🙂
“William!”
Elizabeth winced and rubbed her temples in the hopes the slight pounding behind her eyes wouldn’t explode into a full-blown headache. This always happened when her husband’s Aunt Catherine came to visit. She never failed to spend the entire week complaining about the mattress in her room, how tiny and poorly designed their home was (Seriously! 3,500 square feet?), and how their town in Maine was “provincial.” Why did she even come? As far as Elizabeth was concerned, Aunt Catherine could have stayed in her Boston mansion! Then she wouldn’t drive Elizabeth to drink the entire contents of their wine cabinet in 5 days! She had a bit of help from William, but the majority was consumed by her as her poor head demonstrated. Aunt Catherine brought her own wine. She only drank semi-sweet.
“Mom?” Elizabeth carefully turned her head to Ella, her thirteen-year-old daughter. “Am I going to have to live with Aunt Catherine if I go to college in Boston?” Ella had grand plans of going to Harvard one day, and William had made the colossal mistake of mentioning it to his aunt.
“Of course, not. You know your father never sold the house after your Aunt Georgie finished her Ph.D last year.” He had rented the property to some students so it generated an income, but they saw no reason to sell the place when Ella would probably be using it soon enough. “We’ve talked about the house often enough in front of you. Why would you worry about that now?”
“Didn’t you hear how often she talked about it this weekend?”
Elizabeth shrank a bit as she opened the cabinet by the sink and rifled through for the acetaminophen. Unless Aunt Catherine spoke to her, she tried to tune her out as much as possible. She really needed to stop doing that! “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I must’ve missed it.”
“Probably because she’d made comments about teaching me the manners you never did in the sentence before.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. Yeah, that was probably why. She popped the lid to the blessed pain reliever and swallowed two.
“I feel sorry for Dad right now.”
“Why’s that?” Other than the comments that he could’ve married better than her, William was rarely the brunt of his aunt’s complaints and tirades.
“Have you seen him outside?”
She followed Ella to the living room where her daughter pulled back the curtain. “She refused to let the driver from the car service touch her luggage. Dad and Tyler hauled most of it out to the car, but she insisted Dad load it. So far, she’s said he hasn’t done it right and made him take it out and do it again.”
Ten-year-old Tyler’s face was beet red and he was obviously sweating. Poor guy. She’d have to do something nice for him later. He didn’t deserve this.
Elizabeth frowned and counted the bags around William’s feet. “That can’t be all of her luggage.” She took off in the direction of the room Aunt Catherine used whenever she visited. The room was large for a guest bedroom and had a queen-sized sleigh bed with a top of the line mattress William insisted upon, but what drew Elizabeth’s attention was not the unmade bed or the overwhelming odour of Aunt Catherine’s perfume that assailed her sinuses, but the stack of shopping receipts left in a pile on the dresser. She suppressed a growl.
“She always does that,” said Ella in a quiet voice.
“I know. She’s done it since before you were born. When your great uncle was alive, he would pile coins up here. He didn’t leave those.”
Elizabeth’s foot started to tap as her eyes rested on one suitcase, laying open nearby. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Her heart gave a pang as she grabbed the pile of trash, lifted several items of clothing, and shoved the receipts under, tucking the clothes so they appeared undisturbed.
“Mom!” Ella covered her mouth as she giggled. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
Instead of removing them, Elizabeth zipped the suitcase and gave the handle to her daughter. “Take this to the car. I’ll get the rest.” She picked up the last two bags and followed her daughter out to the car. As soon as she left them, she hightailed it back inside and poured herself a cup of coffee in the hopes the caffeine would hurry along the pain relievers.
A half-hour later, her husband, son, and daughter all trailed into the kitchen, dishevelled and sweaty. “She’s gone,” said William. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat beside her at the breakfast bar. “I suspect we have six months before she comes again.”
“Are you going to tell him what you did?” Ella wore a lop-sided grin, a hand on her hip.
He frowned and caught Elizabeth’s eye. “What did you do?”
With a sigh, Elizabeth told him about the receipts. He shook his head and propped his chin in his hand. “That was rather passive aggressive of you.”
She shrugged as she swallowed a sip of coffee. “Consider it sixteen years of repressed frustration finally escaping.”
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. “If she calls to complain, you’re taking it.”
Elizabeth grimaced. That was one consequence she hadn’t considered—not that Aunt Catherine ever called her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t take the time. Oh well, even if the impossible woman was angry, Elizabeth had at least six months before she had to see her again. She needed to start stocking up on wine now. She would need it!
Hi there, everyone! I’ve been meaning to get back to posting on my site again. My crazy back issues are loads better (and I hope they stay that way) so time to get back in the saddle! I posted this recently at Austen Variations, but I thought I’d go ahead and share it here just in case someone missed it before. It’s a sort of vignette/epilogue to Rain and Retribution. I did love writing a bad Jane, but I thought she needed a lesson. Happy reading!
As soon as the maid announced her, Elizabeth stepped forward to meet her aunt with a smile.
“Lizzy, I am so happy you could come,” said Mrs. Gardiner who carefully embraced her niece so as not to disturb the sleeping baby on her shoulder.
“I am pleased as well, Aunt.” The Gardiner’s well-appointed Cheapside home had been a welcome retreat when she was a child. The Gardiners affection for her was never conditional and made this place more of a childhood home than Longbourn had ever been.
Her aunt bit her lip while she folded down the blanket. They had not been in company together since the summer, so her aunt was, no doubt, eager to see eighteen-month old William’s face. “He has grown, and he has become quite handsome.”
Elizabeth could not help but smile. While she thought William the most beautiful child, it was always gratifying to have others praise him as well. “He has indeed grown. I believe if he continues as he has, he will easily be as tall as Will before long.”
Her aunt’s hand rested upon Will’s back. “I think you may have some time for that.”
“I know, but as of late, he seems to outgrow his gowns so quickly. I feel as though one day I will blink and he will suddenly appear before me a grown man.” The last was said on a sigh.
“This is not his normal nap time is it?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, he was awake very early this morning. I knew you hoped to see him today, but I had no expectation of him falling asleep in the carriage. I apologise for that.”
“I do not expect an apology, my dear. I know very well how children can be.” Mrs. Gardiner quickly peered around Elizabeth to William’s nursemaid, who waited patiently near the corner of the parlour. “Perhaps I should show Mary where he can rest down so we can visit?”
Once Elizabeth handed William off to the girl, she took a seat while they disappeared up the stairs. When Mrs. Gardiner returned, she sat opposite Elizabeth on the couch with her hands in her lap. “Will you remain in London long?”
“We plan to remain for a portion of the season. After I am presented at court, my husband wishes to take me to the theater and Vauxhall Gardens.”
Her aunt nodded and relaxed into the cushions. “You should enjoy those outings. Your friend Lady Ashworth is sponsoring your presentation, is she not?”
“Yes, I believe you have made her acquaintance.”
“I have. I like her very much. If I remember correctly, her husband is Mr. Darcy’s cousin?”
“Yes, she is,” said Elizabeth. “I was very pleased when she became family. Friends are lovely but this means she will always be nearby.”
They paused at a knock that came from the front door. A maid stepped inside the room moments later and curtseyed. “Pardon me, ma’am, but Mrs. Mason is here.”
Elizabeth startled, when after the introduction, her sister, Jane, entered. She straightened in her seat and pulled back her shoulders. No matter their current relationship, Elizabeth refused to be rude, so she rose along with her aunt and curtseyed.
“Thank you, Sarah,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
Jane glanced at Elizabeth but remained facing their aunt. “Forgive me if this is an inconvenient time. I came for the old baby gown you offered. The one you said would be ideal for a pattern.”
Mrs. Gardiner glanced back and forth between the sisters, no doubt debating on whether the two of them should be left alone together. After a look at Elizabeth, her aunt bustled from the room.
Jane’s eyes first lit on Elizabeth’s gown before moving to her face. “I would not have expected to find Mrs. Darcy in Gracechurch Street.” Her sister’s skirts did little to hide the swell at her waist, though Jane did not rest a palm to the babe as Elizabeth had during that time. Instead, her hands remained clasped tightly in front of her. The pose was reminiscent of Miss Bingley.
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose as she returned to her seat. “I came to visit my aunt. Surely, you are aware of our uncle and aunt’s visit to Pemberley.”
A smirk appeared upon her sister’s face. “Yes, however, receiving one’s less than stellar relatives is more easily concealed in the country than here in town.”
“My husband and I are inordinately fond of my aunt and uncle. We have never, nor will we ever pretend the connection does not exist.”
Jane scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You cannot claim to be the same person you once were. You have cast off your ideals, why not cast off all of your relations?”
“I beg your pardon.” Elizabeth’s tone hardened and her entire body stiffened.
“Well,” said Jane in a high-pitched manner that resembled their mother. “You once said you would only marry for the deepest love, but you did not marry for love, did you? You wed someone you detest.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Though, I suppose now that you have provided his heir, he will seek other company.” She gave a slight titter. “Of course, you could always avoid him like my father avoids my mother.”
Lizzy clenched her fists at her sides, her fingernails digging crescent-shaped grooves into her palm. “You know nothing. Mother crowed for years how you could not be so beautiful for nothing and perhaps you began to believe it a bit too much. A person is only as beautiful as what is inside of them, and Jane, you have become a decidedly unattractive woman.”
Her sister’s smug expression disappeared. “You dare—”
“Why should I not? You have chosen to resent me, though I cannot fathom why.”
Jane pressed her hand to her chest with such force it the sound resembled a slap. “You left me behind! You could have sent for me, ensured I was in company again with Mr. Bingley! I was the one who was supposed to marry a rich man!” By the last word, her voice had become an ear-piercing screech.
“I would not have done Mr. Bingley such a disservice,” said Elizabeth as she stood. “His feelings for you were honest and true and you desired him because he was rich and amiable. He deserved so much more. I could not bear for him to be in such an unequal alliance so I told him you held no affection for him.”
Jane’s nostrils flared. “Perhaps I should have set my cap at Mr. Darcy. He married you. I could have captured him if I had wanted!”
Elizabeth lifted one eyebrow and took a few steps closer to her sister. “My husband did not think your heart easily touched—that is what he told Mr. Bingley. He thought you would accept his friend for mercenary purposes, and it seems he was correct. He never would have considered you either.
“I pity you, Jane. You have a husband, and you are obviously with child, but if you never allow anyone to touch your heart, you will be a lonely woman.” Jane made an unladylike noise through her nose. “That sounds more like Lydia than the Jane I remember. How long have you hidden that you are similarly selfish?” Her sister flinched.
Elizabeth took another step forward as she held her hand up with her finger pointed. “Lydia loved Wickham and that was the reason for her mistake. Your error has been closing your heart. Will you guard your heart from your child? I pity him or her if you do.”
“You have no right to criticise me for something you have done yourself!” Jane’s voice surely carried through the house.
“No, I married my friend who I love with everything in me. I have never sought to be so cold.”
The door opened as Mrs. Gardiner hurried back into the room, a baby gown grasped in her hand. “That is quite enough, Jane. You are in my home, and my guests will be treated with respect or you will not be welcome. Do you understand?” Jane’s chin hitched back as though she had been slapped. Mrs. Gardiner gestured behind Jane to where Mr. Mason stood in the doorway.
“Mrs. Mason, I would like a word.” Jane blanched but followed her husband into the empty dining room opposite the parlour.
“I am sorry for her behaviour,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“You are not responsible for what she said. None of this is your fault.”
A sigh escaped her aunt’s lips as they both sat down. “I should not have left you alone with her.”
“I am capable of withstanding my sister’s spiteful words.” They both turned at the door opening to Mr. Darcy entering.
“I suppose you heard all of the fuss?” asked Elizabeth.
“Your sister’s voice did carry into the study. By his countenance, I would say Mr. Mason is displeased. He heard her mention of Mr. Bingley.”
Mrs. Gardiner exhaled heavily. “It is no one’s fault but her own. She should not have spoken.” A wail carried down from upstairs, prompting her aunt to smile. “I shall fetch William. I should be pleased to have a moment with him before you return home.”
As soon as Mrs. Gardiner exited the room, Darcy drew his wife into his arms. “How are you really?”
She smiled and placed her hands upon his chest. “I am well. I cannot claim what she said was a surprise, but I had hoped she could, at the very least, be civil.”
“I know, Love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. A moment later, a loud squeal heralded William running towards them on his little legs. Darcy scooped him up with a laugh and wrapped his free arm back around his wife.
“The children have need of me upstairs,” said Mrs. Gardiner who followed just behind William. She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “I will visit with you more tomorrow night when we have dinner at Darcy House.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I look forward to it.” Her aunt tweaked William’s nose, prompting a babyish giggle, before she hurried back up the stairs.
Darcy wrapped his arms around his family once more. “Are you sure you are well?”
“I am very well.”
He leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers. “Then let us go home.”
~*~
Mrs. Jane Mason quietly listened to her husband’s scolding as she fumed. How dare Lizzy tell Mr. Bingley she was indifferent! Lizzy was no better than her, marrying Mr. Darcy. She had always hated the man, and now to claim he was her friend and she loved him. Pah! Who knew Lizzy was such an accomplished liar?
“Mrs. Mason, are you listening?”
She started. “Yes, I apologise if I caused you any discomfort or embarrassment.”
He seemed appeased by her answer, and she exhaled as her shoulders relaxed. Mr. Mason left the dining room, and Jane’s attention was arrested by the sight of her sister in Mr. Darcy’s arms. Their young son was secure in Mr. Darcy’s embrace and leaned against his father’s shoulder. Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy softly kissed his wife’s temple while her hand rested upon their son’s back.
Her sister’s presence in his embrace was shocking, but the affection and happiness that radiated from both of their countenances left a bitter taste in Jane’s mouth.
A great yawning emptiness in her chest threatened to engulf her. She placed a hand to her belly and glanced towards her husband, who waited for her near the door. When the baby rolled, she looked down to the bump. Was it possible for her to have feelings for her husband?
“Mrs. Mason? Are you coming?”
She swallowed down the bile that burned at her throat, nodded, and stepped forward to follow her husband through the door.
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