A Life Apart: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 8

Darcy stared into the fire. He must let his uncle finish. But this was precisely why he had kept the secret. If his uncle had had his own way, the situation would be completely different.

  He sighed. Yes, he would not now be married. But he would have felt the guilt, the stain upon his honour, for ever. And he would never have known what had become of the girl with the captivating eyes.

  He jerked alert. Why was he thinking of her like this? He must not! Yes, she was his wife, but he might yet annul the marriage, if Richard was right.

  He wondered if her ruin would return if he did that. The flames were mesmerising. And where would she go? She could not return to her family, that was certain. Of course, he would support her, regardless. But he missed Pemberley.

  Even though he was usually in London for the worst of the winter, he always knew Pemberley was there, only a few days away, always ready for him. And now, it wasn’t.

  He smiled slightly, and wondered how she liked it there. She had confessed to being a great lover of the outdoors, walking for miles, sitting in a tree to read. In fact, Pemberley was the sort of place that would suit her, as it did him.

  “Darcy!” His uncle’s voice cut across his reverie. “You must listen to me! Now, will you do that? Today?”

  Darcy blinked. “I do apologise, Uncle Henry, I have not understood you. Might you speak more plainly?”

  His uncle’s snort of rage was justified, Darcy supposed, but he waited with what patience he could muster.

  “Why, you must put her away! If you have her examined — I know a good man — you may have her committed and then the marriage will be easy to annul.” His uncle stopped to heave his corpulent body forward. “Then you must marry your Cousin Anne, and be done with all this nonsense!”

  Darcy bit back the hot response. There was not one single action in that little speech that he agreed with. But it would not do to say so.

  “I thank you for your opinion, Uncle, and I will undertake to give the matter some thought. But I will take no action today on the matter. I have further advice to take.”

  His uncle turned an interesting shade of purple, and Darcy decided he’d better get the man to his coach and away before he had a fit of apoplexy.

  When he had seen the coach away safely, after further lectures from his uncle, Darcy turned back to his library. The footman entered quietly with a sheaf of letters and Darcy leafed through them casually, feeling fatigued after the emotion of the interview. Put her away, indeed!

  His anger rose again. Of course, it was entirely possible, but he would most certainly not do that. In fact, he found himself reluctant to think about annulment at all.

  One letter intrigued him. He thought he recognised the handwriting, but then, not. He puzzled over it for a few moments before breaking the seal.

  Bennet! He scowled, he was in no mood to hear from his father-in-law.

  Dear Mr. Darcy,

  I am writing to enquire after the welfare of my daughter, Elizabeth.

  A number of family members have written to Lizzy, but we are yet to hear from her. I am aware that she is unhappy with the way events have transpired, but I know my daughter has not the personality to bear any sort of grudge.

  I have been expecting her to reply to one or more of her correspondents, and am concerned that no one has heard whether she is well.

  I look forward to hearing from you or Lizzy, and hope that all is well.

  Yours, etc,

  Thomas Bennet, Esq.

  Darcy dropped the letter on the floor at his feet and took a gulp of his drink. This was the last thing he needed to hear.

  He glared into the fire, breathing deeply and trying to control his temper. Then he leaned over and rang the bell.

  “Coffee,” he ordered tersely when the footman entered and he waited impatiently for it to arrive. He felt rather better after the first cup, and poured himself another before picking Bennet’s letter from the floor and going to the writing desk.

  He pulled out a sheet of headed notepaper.

  Mr. Bennet,

  Thank you for your letter of the 3rd inst. I wish to respectfully remind you that, upon marriage, your daughter became my responsibility.

  I must remind you that you instigated the marriage, appearing not to be concerned at my ability to provide for your daughter.

  Until Mrs. Darcy wishes to re-establish communications with you, I respectfully request that you permit her to live her life in peace.

  Yours, etc,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy, Esq.

  He read it back to himself after blotting it. It was certainly not the most polite letter he had ever sent, but he was not inclined yet to try for any sort of reconciliation with his wife’s family.

  He wondered how much correspondence she was receiving from her relations, and hoped they were not upsetting her as reminders of what she had lost.

  He folded the letter, wrote the direction and sealed it, dropping it onto the plate to be sent as soon as the servant saw it.

  He smiled at the thought of Mr. Bennet receiving it, with its lack of news of Elizabeth. But then he had no news to give the man. The smile left his face, perhaps he should be writing to her occasionally. But would that give her hope? And she had not written to him — but he supposed she could hardly do that.

  I know my daughter has not the personality to bear any sort of grudge.

  He wondered if that was true, if she would welcome him if he returned to Pemberley. He ran his hands distractedly through his hair. Why was he not able to decide what to do?

  Chapter 20

  “All right, Mr. Reed, what is your opinion?” Elizabeth pondered the rose bushes in the bed in front of her.

  “I am certain you are correct, Mrs. Darcy.” The steward smiled. “I will speak to the head gardener as soon as we have finished our tour this morning and give him his instructions.”

  Elizabeth bent forward. “It has a beautiful scent. I think if he is able to root a number of cuttings, the new plants next year would be ideal at the entrance to the garden and the scent would draw one in further.”

  She looked round at the steward. “Could you also ask him if he can spare a bloom or two for my bedchamber? I would very much appreciate it for as long as the blooms last.”

  The steward bowed again. “I am sure that will be arranged.” He smiled. “I have one more thing to show you, madam, when you can spare me a little time.”

  She smiled. “I have time right now, Mr. Reed, and now I am curious as to what it is.”

  He stood back. “This way, Mrs. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth strolled along beside him, her maid following her. She was very happy with the way Mr. Reed seemed to have accepted her and he certainly didn’t make her feel as if she should not be interfering.

  “Have you had the roof of that cottage repaired?” She returned to the previous day’s events as they strolled down towards the lake.

  The steward nodded. “Her son was most apologetic that he had not reported the leak earlier, but his mother, as you saw, was denying how bad it had become.” He inclined his head respectfully.

  “I am indebted to you for being able to gain the confidence of some of the workers and find out their cares.” He looked ahead again. “As you probably know, Mr. Darcy is insistent that we give all his estate workers the best conditions that we can.”

  “I am glad to hear it, Mr. Reed.” Elizabeth was happy to stop when he did and he showed her a narrow little path leading down beside the stream that left the lake.

  “You should not walk down there at this time of year, Mrs. Darcy, as it is quite slippery. But I am having some steps cut into the bank and a handrail put in. Then you will be able to access the secret bay whenever you wish.” He smiled reminiscently. “I understand that Mr. Darcy was very fond of the place when he was a boy and spent many hours here, especially after the loss of his mother.” He leaned on his stick. “It is like a tiny cove in the middle of a wild wood — a perfect size for a child.”

  He looked
at her. “I will have a bench put there. It is a quiet, peaceful place for reading.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth said quietly, looking along the narrow little path. She would never have seen it without the steward pointing it out to her. Her thoughts went to the image of Mr. Darcy as a hurt small boy, finding a secret place to nurse his loss to himself.

  She turned away. She must not let herself feel for him until she knew what he was going to do. Even if he had thought he could leave her here and make his life in London, everything she was learning was telling her he loved Pemberley.

  “Thank you, Mr. Reed. I will not take up more of your time today.” Her ankle was aching a little, perhaps she might go up to her bedchamber and rest it on the footstool up there. She might feel like reading another chapter of the novel, but she found herself unable to get involved in the cares of any character in it. Her own troubles were far more of a concern.

  How much longer would she be here alone? If Mr. Darcy did not return soon, how could she remain here, depriving him of his rightful estate?

  For the first time she wondered whether she should write to him and propose to leave Pemberley. But where would she go?

  She felt rather better after an hour’s rest and made her way to the dining room for luncheon. The staff knew now to provide only a small meal and not to have an ostentatious menu. She was able to eat more if not overwhelmed with too much choice.

  When she’d finished, she called for the housekeeper.

  “Mrs. Reynolds, would you walk with me through the gallery, please? I’d like you to tell me a little more of the Darcy family.”

  “I’d be delighted, Mrs. Darcy.” The woman looked gratified and highly flattered.

  Elizabeth smiled. She must continue to find out all she could that might help her understand her husband and what he needed her to do.

  As they went along the great room, the paintings well-lit but protected from direct sunlight by north-facing windows, she discovered that Mrs. Reynolds’ knowledge of the Darcy family was as encyclopaedic as her knowledge of the house. She listened, fascinated, to the love story between the late Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne Fitzwilliam. She heard of the grief of Darcy’s father, and the effect it had had on the son.

  “Of course, Miss Georgiana was too young, really,” Mrs. Reynolds confided. “I don’t think she remembers anything of her mother. But Mr. Darcy was greatly grieved.” She nodded sharply. “It is not surprising, of course. Lady Anne was the finest lady anyone could wish for.” She shook her head, sadly.

  “It was a great pity that he should have had no one to talk to. The late Mr. Darcy could not bear to talk of her, and at school I believe the poor lad could not show any feelings for fear of being teased about it.”

  Elizabeth could understand that, and her heart ached for the child. Perhaps that was why the grown man hid his feelings, would not allow himself to become involved in any way.

  Such grief must be so hard to bear; a child might fear to be so close to anyone as to risk repeating the agony of loss.

  “Of course,” Mrs. Reynolds nodded sagely. “Pemberley gives a great deal of comfort to Mr. Darcy. He spends a great deal of time here.” She smiled. “Even in the season, when duty demands he be in London, he often takes some days away and comes here, be it even for only a few days. He cannot stay away.” Her voice held pride in the house and grounds. Then she frowned slightly.

  “He must have very important business in London. I have never known him to be away so long.”

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. She knew quite well why he had not returned. And she was sure Mrs. Reynolds must be blaming her for it, too.

  She forced a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. It has been most instructive and I’d like to continue on tomorrow, if that is possible.”

  The housekeeper bowed. “Of course, Mrs. Darcy. It is wonderful to find someone so interested in the story of the family. There has always been a Darcy at Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth slipped out onto the great stone terrace from the drawing room as soon as she was alone.

  She could allow her sadness to seep through her when she was here, the servants were not close enough to see the tears in her eyes as she realised that he would not return while she was here.

  She recalled the loss in his eyes as they looked at Pemberley when they had first arrived, and now she understood. Even then, he had intended to leave and not return. He must have been dreading his last night here, and leaving in the morning.

  She felt mortified at the fact that she had appeared to bid him farewell. It was what she’d thought was expected of her, but it must have been a bitter pill for him, having to leave his beloved Pemberley in the hands of the woman who had been the cause of all his afflictions, the loss of all his hopes for the future.

  Well, now she knew. She knew he would not return. So her own duty was clear. She must bid farewell to Pemberley herself, even though she was growing to love it. She must travel to London. Perhaps they could be reconciled to politeness in each other’s company and she might propose that he release them both from this travesty of a marriage.

  Chapter 21

  Elizabeth woke from her fitful sleep at dawn and stretched. She wouldn’t sleep again.

  She dressed quickly and buttoned on her heaviest coat. She saw her white, pinched features in the glass as she settled her hat and tied the ribbon.

  A hasty drink of water from the jug in her room and a final look round the luxurious suite. Apart from a short visit before she left, she’d probably never see it again.

  She blinked away the tears. But this was not her home, she had no right to it. She wondered where she might go. A housemaid polishing the stairs gaped at her in astonishment, and she stopped.

  “When you see Mrs. Reynolds, please inform her that I am taking a walk round the lake before breakfast.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The maid curtsied deeply, her face scarlet with embarrassment. Perhaps she was not used to being spoken to by anyone other than the staff.

  Elizabeth smiled wryly as a footman hurried to open the door for her. “Thank you.”

  The air was chilly, and it sliced through her tired body. She shivered, but she had set her mind to walk round the lake to say goodbye to Pemberley, and round the lake she would walk, no matter how cold.

  She gazed out as she walked, storing up memories for the future as best she could. What would happen to her?

  Perhaps she might persuade Mr. Darcy to assist her in gaining employment of some sort. Surely he could provide some sort of reference? Not every family would have heard of her ruin, and once the marriage was annulled, she could be Miss Bennet again.

  She smiled slightly, she had always had a good imagination. She might invent a little story that she was left without support after the loss of her father. It was so very nearly true.

  In her weariness, she almost wished she could go home, but she knew it could never happen. All of Meryton needed to think she was still married, that the family was now respectable once more.

  Her mind began to list what she must yet do before she could leave Pemberley. She must order the coach and that her things be packed. If the servants packed only for a journey between her homes, as they would think it was, then so be it. Not much would be left here.

  She must write a note to Mrs. Maitland and inform her that she was going to London for a few weeks. She must be careful to give no intimation of what was really happening.

  There was not much else, she thought. She had wondered about making an early start, but she hadn’t wanted to raise any sort of suspicion by seeming to prepare in haste.

  To her surprise, she saw Mr. Reed hastening towards her, a phaeton drawn by a pair of ponies being driven behind him.

  She smiled to herself. Mrs. Reynolds must have been concerned for her.

  “Mrs. Darcy.” The steward bowed. “Walking around the lake might be taking longer than you thought. Perhaps you would care to drive back to the house?” he indicated the phaeton.

  �
��Thank you, Mr. Reed. You are very thoughtful.” Elizabeth gazed round. “Perhaps I might go further if I can drive.”

  He bowed. “Of course, Mrs. Darcy.” He hesitated. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

  She smiled. “I would not take you from your duties too much, Mr. Reed. I only wish to get a sense of the extent of the park.” It is all I will have to sustain me in the future. But she could not tell him that.

  She climbed into the phaeton. A young groom was astride one of the ponies, to drive her. She was very glad his back was to her.

  “As you wish, madam.” Mr. Reed looked as if he would wish not to leave her with no other servant, and he went to the groom and she watched as he instructed him where to drive.

  Perhaps she should have had her maid with her. It would not do to cause trouble. She leaned forward.

  “Mr. Reed!”

  He turned to her, “Mrs. Darcy?”

  “I have changed my mind. I will finish going round the lake and return to the house.” She would always be in sight then.

  He looked relieved. “As you wish, madam.”

  She felt a bit faint, anyway. And cold. A cup of tea at breakfast would help. Elizabeth settled back in the seat and allowed the thought of the steward’s concern to wrap her round with comfort. She was very tired.

  She was sitting over her belated breakfast and was just about to call Mrs. Reynolds and instruct her to ready the coach when a footman approached.

  “Mrs. Maitland, madam.”

  Elizabeth was startled. She hadn’t quite expected to be called on this morning.

  “Thank you. Please show Mrs. Maitland into the drawing room. I will join her directly.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It would at least mean she did not have to write to her, she could tell her friend this morning.

  She smiled as she entered the drawing room. “Abigail! It is lovely to see you.” She took her friend’s hand. “I was going to write to you this morning, but now you have called and that is very much better.”