A Mother's Promise
What if Elizabeth had refused to visit Pemberley during her Derbyshire trip? Fortunately for Mr. Darcy, his mother made a deathbed promise that she would continue to watch over him from heaven. And she will help her son in this case, even if it means paying the stubborn Elizabeth Bennet a visit.
Rated PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or plot of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice
Chapter 1:
Fitzwilliam Darcy paced through the darkened halls of Pemberley, finding his way via memory and the moonlight which streamed in from the windows. Business had called him home one day sooner than planned, and at first he had been relieved to come back to his own grounds and house without Miss Bingley’s constant smirking and pointed remarks. But now, in the middle of the night, the sleeping and silent Pemberley House felt far too large for him. It wanted a mistress, one with lovely chestnut curls and the most expressive eyes he had ever seen. He wanted, he needed, Elizabeth’s laughter and wit permeating those corridors. But he had been a fool, he had destroyed his own chances with her. It was just for him to be alone that night, even if it was scarcely bearable.
His absentminded wandering had brought him to the portrait gallery, and he gazed around at the walls which held the likenesses of dozens of his ancestors. How many of them had been afflicted with that same, revolting pride which had inspired him to insult the woman he loved and ruin his life?
But there was certainly one portrait in that gallery which did not speak of vanity; indeed, it spoke of nothing but maternal love to him. Lady Anne Darcy looked tenderly down upon her son from the canvas on which she was represented. The portrait had been taken shortly after his birth, and thus it showed a vivacious, joyful woman who bore a striking resemblance to Georgiana rather than the frail, weak creature which she became in her last years.
As he stood there in contemplation, Darcy’s mind travelled to the last interview he had ever had with his mother. Even fourteen years later, he could scarcely hold back his tears as he recalled it.
Lady Anne lay surrounded by pillow upon her grand bed, too tired to sit up. When he entered the room, she completed the monumental task of opening her eyes and smiling weakly at him.
“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, so low that he had to stoop to understand her, “look after your father, and look after my Georgiana.”
“I will, Mama, I will,” he replied, attempting to keep his fourteen-year-old voice from cracking.
“I love you ever so much, my dearest son.”
“I know, Mama. I love you. And I will miss you dreadfully.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam. We are Christians, after all. Do you not believe that I will be more alive than ever on the other side of this threshold?”
“Yes, Mama, but I am afraid you will not be able to guide and advise our lives as readily as you always have.”
“Dearest son, the ties of love and affection which bind us on earth cannot be loosened by death. If the merciful Lord gives me admittance to Heaven, I promise that I will pray for you, Georgiana, and your Papa just as much as I ever did on earth. Perhaps my prayers for your safety and happiness will reach Him even better, since I will know Him much better and be right with Him. That is, if I have been good enough girl here to merit…” she finished with a spasm of coughing.
“Darling Mama, you have only been too good to us, to everyone,” Master Fitzwilliam had said, stroking his mother’s blond tresses.
“I certainly hope so,” Lady Anne humbly managed before another fit of coughing took her breath. His father advanced to the bedside and horrified, gathered her in his arms. Then, as her son watched in unspeakable sorrow, she managed to whisper to her husband and child: “I love you both,” before her grey eyes closed till Judgment Day.
Darcy had kept her parting words close to his heart, and there were many instances when he was absolutely certain that his mother had interceded on his behalf and begged some undeserved graces for him from the Almighty. Last summer, in Ramsgate, for one. After all, the reason which had drawn him there two days early was his mother’s necklace. He had rediscovered it in the Pemberley safe, and thought that it would be the perfect present for Georgiana to celebrate the completion of her studies. His impatience to see her face light up when he presented it to her made him uncharacteristically impulsive and caused him to move up his journey those up by those two crucial days, which allowed him to salvage his sister from the worst cad in England.
But now his own faults had ensnared him in an even more heart-wrenching problem. His mother, if she be in Heaven, along with all the Saints, might pray as long as they pleased, but God’s patience was probably worn out with Fitzwilliam Darcy, and rightly. He took one more glance at Lady Anne’s portrait, and muttered despondently as he recommenced wandering,
“Mama, how little you knew that your son would grow up to be one of the proudest, most disagreeable men in the kingdom!”
Chapter 2:
Elizabeth Bennet prepared for bed in the Lambton inn that evening with a peculiar sense of agitation. Up till that morning, she had enjoyed her trip to Derbyshire exceedingly; the countryside was so pleasant, and the sights were charming. But then that morning, her aunt Gardiner had proposed that they visit Pemberley. Despite her Mrs. Gardiner’s eagerness to see its fine grounds once more and the maid’s assurances that the family were not yet down for the summer, Elizabeth refused to consent to a trip there. After all, she had no business to visit the estate of a man whom she had misjudged, accused, and refused but a few months ago. Thus, she had pleaded off, explaining that she was exhausted of seeing fine houses, and wished for a quiet day with her aunt’s Lambton friends. Her relatives had consented graciously, and enjoyed the day, but ever since then Elizabeth felt a strange unrest hanging over her every minute. Hoping that a good night’s rest could calm it, she retired to bed.
She had not been sleeping for much more than an hour when her dreams were permeated by a feminine voice calling her name.
“Elizabeth.”
Miss Bennet moved slightly in her sleep, ignoring the voice which was trying to rouse her.
“Elizabeth.”
The young woman slowly began to come out of her repose.
“Elizabeth, please.” The voice had become much more insistent.
Miss Bennet opened her eyes, and to her surprise found that while it was still nighttime, her room was no longer dark. Seeking the cause, she sat up in bed, and was stunned to see that two candles on her writing table were lit, and that between them stood a beautiful woman in her late thirties, clad in a silk magenta dress. Her locks were golden and tastefully pinned up, there was a fine necklace around her neck, and her visitor’s grey eyes were focused on herself in a maternal and tender gaze. Elizabeth had never seen her before, she was sure of that; yet something in the lady’s countenance and bearing was slightly familiar to the younger woman.
“Can I help you, madam?” Elizabeth asked, uncertainly.
“No, not me. But there is someone who you can help, Elizabeth. Kindly rise and get dressed.”
“Is it my uncle or aunt?” Miss Bennet asked anxiously as she flung back the covers and stepped out of bed. “Has one of them taken ill?”
“No, not at all. Hurry with your toilette, my dear.”
Mystified, Elizabeth obeyed. How did that peculiar woman know her name? But due to the urgency in her tone, Elizabeth felt that there was not time for questions at the present. Thus, retiring to her dressing room, she changed her attire as quickly as she could, and rejoined the strange lady in a matter of minutes.
“Come,” her mysterious visitor said, and with a swish of her skirts she exited the bedchamber, walked through the common room, and led Miss Bennet out into the hallway.
“Where are we going?” Elizabeth ventured to ask when they started down the staircase. “Are my uncle and aunt there? Have they sent you for me?”
“No, dear. Your relatives sleep quietly.”
Elizabeth hesitated on the stairs and looked back up towards her room anxiously.
“Do not worry. They will not miss you, if all goes well you can return before they rise. Hurry, now.”
The older lady recommenced walking at a faster pace, with Elizabeth having to exert effort to keep up. To Miss Bennet’s shock, her guide led her through the front doors of the inn and into the darkened, abandoned Lambton streets. She was about to question their destination once more when the lady in front of her said,
“Just follow me, child,” as if she had read her thoughts.
Astute young lady that she was, Elizabeth Bennet could not but feel a bit averse to following an unknown woman, albeit quite respectably dressed, about the streets at that time of night. But she gamely allowed herself to be led, assuming that they would be shortly entering one of the Lambton houses where perhaps some young lady had taken ill and needed a nurse or comforter. Her willingness diminished rapidly, however, when they quit the main street and were about to start down an unpaved path which led across the fields.
“Be careful here. The road is a bit uneven. Do take care not to fall,” her guide said.
“No,” Elizabeth exclaimed, stopping short.
The woman stopped, turned and faced Elizabeth, her grey eyes fixing themselves upon her face with gentle understanding, but also a faint light of displeasure.
“Madam, with all due respect, we have not been introduced,” Elizabeth said firmly. “And while I am quite willing to help anyone who is in need, I must also consider my own safety and the peace of mind of my aunt and uncle. I do not know you, and you have refused to tell me where we are going. Thus, it would be nothing if not imprudent for me to accompany you out of the town, especially at one o’clock in the morning. I will not go any further, unless you supply me with further particulars.”
This speech did not offend the older lady; if anything, it made her face shine with admiration.
“Very well, my dear. It does you credit to question me. My name is Lady Anne. I lived in Derbyshire for many years, but fourteen years ago I formally quit it. That event, however, has not prevented me from coming back for frequent visits. On my most recent call, it has come to my attention that someone who I promised to care for is in desperate need of aid. Thus, I have summoned you to render it.”
“Is this person ill?”
“You might say that this person is very sick- at heart.”
“May I ask why you decided that I, of all people, am the best person to help them? Who recommended me and directed you to me? After all, you know nothing of me.”
Lady Anne laughed a soft, tinkering laugh.
“My dearest child, I know you quite well. You are Thomas Bennet’s second-eldest daughter, and have resided in Hertfordshire your whole life. You are one and twenty years of age, witty, and can be quite impertinent, but in a very sweet, harmless sort of way. You are a lady of sense and education, and while you are courageous in your dealings with others, you do not condone impropriety. Nor are you mercenary, for you have refused several offers of marriage which would financially benefit you and yours.”
Elizabeth stared at her, astounded.
“Who has given you such a through account of my character?”
“None, Elizabeth. I have observed it for myself.”
“Impossible. I have never seen you before tonight.”
“My dear, believe me when I say that when it comes to unobserved observation, I have every advantage,” Lady Anne concluded with a peculiar smile.
“Madam, frankly, this interview is becoming more unnerving to me by the minute. Pray suffer me to turn back and go. Surely you can find someone else in Lambton who can help you nurse your friend, or whatever it is you wish for me to do.”
Lady Anne shook her head vehemently.
“No person on earth, other than you, can be of any service in this matter. You assume that I have chosen you randomly to accompany me? You are mistaken, Elizabeth. It was quite a project to get you both this far. By dint of many prayers and pleadings on my part, God took pity and gave me permission to arrange these circumstances. First, I altered your Uncle Gardiner’s business plans, so that he could not take you to the Lakes, but here instead. Then I made sure that my charge was summoned back to Derbyshire early, so as to give you a chance to meet. But that is where you crossed me, Elizabeth. You shunned the whisperings of your heart, and did not do what I had arranged for. You, unknowingly, strayed from the best road, and lost one chance to help a fellow human being and to secure your own happiness. Now is your final chance to make all right. Therefore, come along, and trust me. I promise that soon you will know all you wish, and more.”
Although still a bit uncomfortable, Elizabeth accepted this explanation and stepped down onto the path. Trying to justify her compliance, she told herself that the lady seemed trustworthy, and that there was no reason she should wish her harm. Furthermore, she obviously was powerful if she managed to rearrange Mr. Gardiner’s business to her liking; most likely, she was acquainted with the Gardiners and had learned about their niece from them. She just wished to be mysterious and impertinent by not stating this directly. Comforted by this thought, Elizabeth followed her guide down the path.
Chapter 3:
“I will warn you, it is several miles, but the distance is nothing when one has a purpose,” Lady Anne said as they walked through the fields. Elizabeth followed her willingly for a while, smilingly wondering how she would use her wit and cleverness to entrap Lady Anne into admitting an acquaintance with the Gardiners. Her bravado wilted, however, when she noticed that she was being led directly into a dark, foreboding thicket of trees.
“Is there not a better road?” Elizabeth asked anxiously, slowing down her steps.
“Do not worry, the wood is not exactly as first impressions make it seem. You will see in a moment.”
They passed into it, with Miss Bennet unconsciously holding her breath. But to her surprise, after the first few dozen steps, the wood was not at all as ghoulish as it has appeared on the outside. The crowns of many trees were not thick above the path, and allowed plentiful moonlight to stream in. That pale light showed flowers growing between the trees, and their sweet fragrance perfumed the night air. And instead of owls hooting, nightingales sang a wondrous chorus.
“It is charming!” Elizabeth, exclaimed, relieved.
Lady Anne nodded.
"So frightening on the outside, so pure and handsome on the inside. Just like some people, is it not?”
“I suppose so,” Elizabeth absentmindedly replied.
“You know, it actually reminds me a great deal of one of your acquaintances- Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Elizabeth looked at her guide sharply.
“I see that Mrs. Gardiner told you a great deal about me,”
“You must not blame your aunt, Elizabeth,” Lady Anne rebutted, the peculiar and significant smile again hovering around her lips. “Anyhow, we were speaking of Fitzwilliam.”
“What of him?” Elizabeth inquired, hoping that the elegant woman would not turn around and notice her embarrassed blush. “You call him by his Christian name; have you known him long?”
“I have known him his whole life. And he is just like that wood: to the world he shows an unwelcoming, displeased demeanor, but if you should get to know him better, you would find that he is the kindest, most generous and patient man of your acquaintance.”
Elizabeth tripped over a root on the path and hardly managed to save herself from falling in her shock. Can this be Mr. Darcy?, she thought.
“You are surprised,” Lady Anne said, glancing over her shoulder, “and rightly, considering how he behaves in company. But Elizabeth, please believe me, his disagreeableness is just a mask.”
“If he really is as good-tempered a man as you say, then why would he act so in society?”
“Partially it is a protective mechanism, for otherwise the Miss Bingleys of the world would overrun him. But more importantly, it is because the last untarnished moment of joy he experienced was the day his sister was born.”
Elizabeth laughed, unbelieving. “Lady Anne, I assure you that piece of information will not improve my opinion of Mr. Darcy’s character! If he, a man of sense and education, who has lived in the world and, as I understand it, owns a great portion of that same earth, is not happy, then I do not know how demanding, irrational he must be.”
“So you are suggesting that his wealth is bound to secure his joy? How very mercenary! That is unlike you, Elizabeth. If wealth guarantees joy, then why have you sworn to marry only for the deepest love, instead of for the deepest pocketbook?”
Elizabeth gasped, recognizing the words she had spoken to Jane in the privacy of their own room at Longbourn months ago. Had Jane accidentally betrayed her confidence to Mrs. Gardiner, and had Mrs. Gardiner thoughtlessly repeated her words to the elusive Lady Anne?
“I see you somehow have come by another piece of knowledge which you were never meant to have,” Elizabeth said, displeased. “But I am not ashamed of my words, for I meant them. No, wealth does not secure happiness, I know. But what I meant was that I see no reason why Mr. Darcy should be unhappy.”
Lady Anne stopped on the path ahead, waited for Elizabeth to step closer, and when they were side-by-side she began walking at a slightly slower pace. Then, in a tender voice, she began,
“Fitzwilliam was the happiest, most generous-hearted, most affectionate boy in all the world. He loved his parents dearly, and he was always kind and considerate to the servants who waited upon him. Oh, I wish you could have seen how eagerly he awaited the birth of his little sister, which took place when he was eleven years of age. I will never forget the joy which permeated his sweet face when he held her tiny little form in his arms for the first time. He kissed her little forehead over and over again. I am sure that many other boys, who had been spoilt as much by their parents as he, would have resented a new sibling, but he was only too happy to have another family member to love.”
Elizabeth was silent, trying to picture a young version of Mr. Darcy lavishing caresses on a newborn babe. Her imagination, for the first time in a long while, failed her.
“But that was the last time he was ever truly happy. His mother was greatly weakened by the happy event, and never fully recovered her strength, spiraling into a decline which lasted three years before she went to meet her Maker. Her son watched her suffer, and worried constantly about her. She died in front of him.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth cried, tears gushing into her eyes. She could not imagine losing one of her parents at so young an age, and her heart broke for Mr. Darcy.
“Pemberley House was always filled with a quiet sorrow afterwards, for its master was heartbroken. He raised his two children carefully and affectionately, but his love of life was gone. Fitzwilliam went away to Cambridge when the time came, where he made some good friends among righteous, religious young men like himself, but he did not enjoy himself overmuch either, considering the fact that a certain Mr. Wickham was his constant roommate. Fitzwilliam was disgusted with George Wickham’s vices, and could barely tolerate him day after day. Only respect for his father’s wishes prevented him from requiring his onetime friend to find new lodgings.”
Lady Anne’s assertion about Mr. Darcy’s patience was fast gaining credibility with Elizabeth. It would be difficult enough to listen to Mr. Wickham oozing his false, hollow charm for any length of time, let alone to deal with him when he was intoxicated.
“Despite the fact that he was a stellar student, he began to long to return home and to some semblance of peace. He graduated Cambridge with high honors, and rode home hurriedly, eager to see his father and sister again. But cheer again eluded him. You see, the day before he arrived back at Pemberley, his father’s greatest wish had been suddenly granted- he had gone to join his wife.”
Elizabeth’s hands shook as she groped for a handkerchief. She had never, ever, expected Mr. Darcy’s history to be so full of pain. She made no attempt to interject any words into Lady Anne’s monologue, for her voice had deserted her and had been replaced by sobs.
“Worse of all, the express had passed Fitzwilliam on the road, and he had not the slightest idea until he got into the house itself. Then a footman, who mistakenly believed him to be informed of the past day’s events, said ‘Welcome home, Mr. Darcy’ and offered him his condolences. The poor young man, filled with dread, barely managed to inquire why he had been addressed as Mr. Darcy and not as Master Fitzwilliam, and what was meant by condolences. That is how he found out that the responsibility of raising little girl and tending to nine estates as well as a London townhouse had fallen upon his two and twenty year old shoulders.”
“Oh, poor Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried, unaware of how like Jane she suddenly sounded. “To have to bear all that- and without warning! I wonder he ever recovered from it at all!”
“Until recently, he managed to hold his head up because he believed in himself. He thought himself a good, honest man. But unfortunately, a few months ago his confidence was greatly shaken. And I am grieved indeed to say that it appears that this time, he will not recover from the blow, by himself at least.”
“Has he suffered another tragedy?” Elizabeth exclaimed, horrified. Her throat constricted and her heart struggled to beat under the supposition that Mr. Darcy was miserable once again.
“Yes, he has, and he is more downtrodden than during any previous time in his life. Well, come along, we must not tarry.” That said, Lady Anne again hastened her pace.
“What has happened to Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth inquired, anxiously, attempting to keep up.
“What does it matter to you, child?” Lady Anne said, a bit carelessly and uncharacteristically. “He is nothing but a mere acquaintance to you. His private affairs and sorrows need not concern you.”
Elizabeth could not answer this logic while keeping to the rules of propriety, and so she was forced to relapse into silence. But inside, she was wild. Mr. Darcy, a man who had had more pain in his short eight and twenty years than some people have in a hundred, had met another adversity. Had Mr. Wickham attempted something? Was his sister Georgiana ill? Of course, Lady Anne was correct: Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire had no need-rather, no right- to interfere. But she was frantic to know what ailed Mr. Darcy this time, and for some reason, she was desperately wished that she was in a position to offer some sort of comfort. His Hunsford letter had earned her respect, and Jane’s mourning over him had, despite her witty rebuttals, reinstated her sympathy. And now the entire tale of his unhappy life had, unconsciously, sprout a few seeds of affection for the gentleman whom she had once declared would be the last man in the world whom she could ever be prevailed upon to marry.
Chapter 4:
As Miss Bennet vainly tried to quench the fire burning in her heart, Lady Anne suddenly halted as they reached the top of a very large hill. Elizabeth, still wrapped up in her own thoughts, registered the action just enough to mirror it. Confused at the halt, she looked around and realized that in the valley below a magnificent, ancient mansion stood. It surely had to boast of more than one hundred rooms. Before it lay a large, picturesque lake and an extremely spacious lawn.
“Is it not absolutely beautiful?” Lady Anne asked, smiling at the view before them.
Elizabeth nodded, putting Mr. Darcy out of her mind with difficulty.
“I have never seen a place for which nature has done so much, or where natural beauty has been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.”
“I knew that you would love it, Elizabeth.”
They started down the steep slope. Elizabeth could not conceal a small smile when she realized that they were walking straight towards the house. How wonderful would it be to enter and see what the inside had to offer!
“To the right there is a lovely rose arbor which I was very fond of sitting in, once,” Lady Anne remarked, in a very maternal voice. “You will too, I daresay.”
“I am sure I would, but I do not know if I shall have the time to indulge in such pleasures.”
“If all goes well, you will have more than enough time, dear.”
Elizabeth did not answer, for they were nearing the edifice, and she was consumed with admiring the effect that the moonlight had on the old stone walls of the palatial mansion. Her eyes trained on the upper stories of the building, she absentmindedly heard Lady Anne say,
“This is our destination, my darling. Thank you for coming, Elizabeth, and thank you for all that, God willing, you will do here throughout the years.”
Elizabeth observed the house for a few more moments before she finally registered her companion’s last words with a start.
“All I will do here throughout the years?” she exclaimed. “I am at a complete loss for your meaning, madam!”
No response came. Elizabeth, looking around, suddenly realized that she was standing on the drive alone. She turned about once, twice, her eyes anxiously searching the grounds for any sign of the silk-clad woman who had led her there. Becoming frightened, she noticed the darkened arches of the building which appeared to lead into a courtyard. Of course; Lady Anne had probably gone to enter the house. Hoping that it was not too late to catch up, Elizabeth broke into a run and flew through one of the darkened archways. Her progress was abruptly stopped when she collided into something tall and warm.
Chapter 5:
In the first stunned moment, Elizabeth believed that her unexpected obstacle was Lady Anne herself. She hurriedly attempted to regain her balance and opened her lips to apologize. But before she could even voice an exclamation of regret, the person whom she had collided with proved their excellent reflexes by wrapping her in a strong embrace which pined her arms to her sides as if to prevent her from pulling out a weapon. The action bewildered Elizabeth, and she dimly realized that the arms which held her were too muscular and athletic to be those of a woman. Her panic was made complete when a man’s voice demanded in a furious tone,
“Who are you, and why are you prowling about the courtyard at this time of night?”
Elizabeth was far too frightened to formulate a rational answer. She simply uttered a low cry and allowed self-preservation instincts to take over as she attempted to wrestle away from her captor. She wanted nothing more than to flee from that place, and she mentally castigated herself for being so foolish as to allow Lady Anne to abandon her in the middle of a strange estate.
“Answer me!” the man commanded. Before Miss Bennet could gather her wits and obey, however, he tightened his arms even more and half-dragged her a few steps from the interior of the darkened passageway to the inside of the moonlight-lit courtyard. Then he looked down at the intruder who he had arrested in his arms.
He had expected to see a short man with a scheming and conniving face. He knew that none of the servants had a habit of wandering out of doors in the middle of the night, and if any of the tenants had needed help, they would have knocked at the side door, which was within earshot of Mrs. Reynolds’ quarters, instead of approaching the front of the house. Thus, the only person who could possibly be in the courtyard at three o’clock in the morning was a thief, someone who wished to gain unlawful entry into the house and take a few souvenirs with them.
But as the prisoner turned their face up to the moonlight, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, the man was stunned to find that he was holding a woman. A young, terrified woman. His first reaction was surprise, then utter dejection. So this was how low he had sunk- roughly handling and frightening young ladies. She had been right; he was no gentleman, indeed!
Just as he was about to loosen his arms from the bewildered and probably lost woman, she looked up and looked full into his face, her dark, mussed curls falling away from her countenance in the process. And then, recognition and shock dawned in both pairs of eyes.
The lady was the first to find her voice.
“Mr. Darcy!” she cried out, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and relief.
He did not answer her, nor did he attempt to withdraw his arms from about her. They were frozen in the embrace.
“I…I…this time I have outdone myself, indeed,” he muttered at long last, staring at her like a ravenously thirsty man in the desert would look at a glass of cold water. “I have dreamed about her every night for months, but tonight she is so real…almost as real as if she truly stood here, in my arms. And at Pemberley, no less. Oh, Elizabeth, sweet dream or delirious vision you might be, but you look just like you did when I met you at Netherfield last autumn, when you walked three miles to nurse your sister. Your eyes are again brightened by the exercise, and your hair is again windblown. How completely besotted I am, that my mind makes up these hallucinations to give me a little comfort from my daily torture!”
Elizabeth could not speak. In a rush, she remembered that Mr. Darcy was reputed to be very unhappy of late, and to be doubting his worth as a gentleman. Could her behavior at Hunsford have affected so great a change as this? Was she the cause of his most recent melancholy? Her heart broke at the sight of his yearning, lovesick face.
“Mr. Darcy,” she began softly, “you are not dreaming. I am here, truly here.”
The gentleman shook his head.
“Impossible. You hate me; you would never come to Pemberley of your own free will.”
Tears sprung to Elizabeth’s eyes upon hearing his bitter and hopeless tone. Her heart began to beat for this man, who had been so wounded by her and in spite of it, still clearly loved her. She hastened to reassure him.
“No, sir, I do not hate you,” she replied in a pleading tone. “If you are referring to my outburst in Hunsford, Mr. Darcy, I assure you that I have long been ashamed of it. I said some dreadful and untrue things in my anger and ignorance. You are a good man, an honorable gentleman, and a devoted brother, sir. And as for my being here, I did not know that what place and estate this was until you unwittingly informed me just now. It is true that I would not come if I had known, for I would never wish to disturb your privacy. However, if you are not displeased with my presence, then I have no regret of coming hither.”
“Displeased with your presence! Elizabeth, that could never be! But, are you real, my darling?”
She smiled a bit through her tears.
“If I am not, then you certainly are holding a column of air very tightly, indeed!”
Her characteristic wit broke the spell. Realization flooded his face, and, to her deep disappointment, he finally relaxed his arms. Blushing fiercely he stammered,
“Oh…Miss Bennet… forgive me! I apologize for my behavior, it was horrendous and ungentlemanly. In particular, I am so sorry for dragging you from the archway in such a disgraceful manner…What must you think of me?” his voice faded and broke.
“I think that you are indeed a gentleman, Mr. Darcy, who was rightly defending his house and those within it. It is I who should apologize, for wandering about Pemberley in the middle of the night without an invitation from you.”
The master of the estate shook his head.
“No, Miss Bennet, you certainly have nothing to apologize for. You will always be welcome at Pemberley.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to blush furiously. She turned away her face in an effort to hide the scarlet tone of her cheeks. It was in vain, however. The Master of Pemberley noticed her color, and it taught him to hope as he had scarcely ever allowed himself to hope before. She was at least not disgusted by his remark! It drove him to say, out of sheer desperation,
“Miss Bennet…I suppose that under the circumstances we may do away with propriety, with that careful dance of hidden meanings and interpretations?”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, blushing still more deeply.
“Please feel free to halt me if my chosen subject is not to your liking, Miss Bennet. I have betrayed myself quite freely just now; it must be plain to you that the feelings I avowed in Hunsford have done nothing but deepened since then. I do not mean to impose upon you in any way, but considering what you have said just now, if you truly meant it…is there any hope that in the future, they could prove to be acceptable to you?”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried out, turned around to face him once more. She could scarcely believe what words which were brimming up to her lips, but after the peculiar events of that night she was willing to conclude that anything was possible. She felt as if her feelings had been taken for a wild ride, but now it had almost concluded, and she would be safe presently…in a strong pair of arms.
“Mr. Darcy,” she recommenced. “I hope that you will not think me and my opinions extremely mercurial, but in the months since April I have learned and reflected a great deal. And I have determined that your declarations are no longer as distasteful to me as they once were; indeed, if anything, they are gratefully accepted and very pleasant to hear. I do not need time, and you do not need to wait for the future. If it is not too forward of me, I would be thrilled to accept them, and return them, wholeheartedly tonight.”
He reached out and grasped her hands, disbelief and heartfelt delight rushing into his face.
“Did I hear you correctly, Miss Bennet…Elizabeth?”
“Yes, you have!” she cried out laughing.
He gazed at her for one more moment, before drawing her once more into his embrace and holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. Completely forgetting Lady Anne and the entire world, for that matter, Elizabeth lay her head upon her new fiancé’s shoulder and allowed him to kiss her hair, forehead and cheeks. In between these caresses, he murmured in an overwhelmed and choked voice,
“Earlier this evening I considered myself the most wrenched of men, thinking myself an utter failure among mankind…and now, one of the world’s most precious treasures has fallen into my arms, and for reasons I cannot fathom, has consented to be mine, all mine! Oh Elizabeth, I have failed you so in the past, but thank you for this chance. If it be at all in my power, I will make you the happiest woman on earth for it!”
“I am sure you will, Fitzwilliam,” the lady replied, placing the slightest emphasis on his Christian name.
Overcome by redoubled emotion by hearing his first name from Elizabeth’s lips, Darcy caught her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. The action led him to notice something.
“Your hands are cold,” he said, tenderly and worriedly.
“’Tis a rather chilly night,” Elizabeth replied. “I did not notice it when I was walking quickly, for the heat of the exercise kept me warm.”
“We must not stand out here,” Darcy said practically. “I cannot let you become ill. Come into the house, darling.”
He took her hand, and led her through the double front doors. Feeling around a small table near the entrance, he struck a match and lit a single candle. By its light, he escorted her through the corridors.
“I do admire your taste in furnishings, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said in an awed voice. “Pemberley has more elegance than Rosings!”
“You approve of it?” Darcy inquired anxiously.
“Of course!” she exclaimed, still marveling that of such a place she would be mistress. “Anyone who does not approve cannot be a sensible person!”
Darcy smiled slyly.
“I should warn you that Lady Catherine has berated my choice of decorations for quite some time…”
Amid Elizabeth’s laughter, they entered Darcy’s study.
Chapter 6:
The room was well-lit, since Darcy had left the candles burning when he had gone wandering about the house.
“Gracious! Is this a study, a parlor, or a library?” Elizabeth exclaimed as she walked into the spacious room which had a large ornate desk, several filled bookshelves, a side table holding decanters of port, sherry and brandy, and even a lovely sofa.
“My desk is here, so it is my study.”
“Maybe for my wedding present you should get me a map of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam. Otherwise I just might become lost in this mansion. You may never find me again!”
“I would much rather be your guide every moment of the day, dearest, and never leave your side.”
Elizabeth blushed furiously as Darcy went to retrieve a pot of tea which was being kept warm by the fireplace. Mrs. Reynolds had sent it up earlier in the evening after the master had declined to partake of dinner.
“Would you like some tea, Elizabeth? It will help warm you.”
“Thank you, I believe I will.”
He poured it into a teacup and brought handed it to her with a smile. As he was pouring another cup for himself, she leaned against the richly ornamented desk and gazed around at the decorations of the chamber. Her eye happened to fall upon a pair of portraits on the opposite side of the room. The one on the left was particularly familiar.
“Why, that is the likeness of Lady Anne!” she exclaimed.
Darcy turned and followed her gaze.
“Quite so. How did you know, my darling?”
Elizabeth laughed at the question.
“I simply recognized her face, Fitzwilliam.”
“I did not know that you had ever seen a portrait of my mother before so as to be able to know her likeness.”
“I have not seen a likeness of your mother, Fitzwilliam. We were talking of Lady Anne.”
“They are one and the same. My mother’s name was Lady Anne Darcy, and that is her portrait, next to my father’s. She died fourteen years ago.”
Elizabeth sharply whirled around to take another glance at the fateful portrait. Yes, it was her beyond any question- the same eyes, the same hair, even the same kind, maternal expression. Suddenly the significance of the entire night crashed down upon the younger woman. Her visitor’s unexpected appearance in her bedchamber at the inn, her claim to have lived in Derbyshire and to have quit it fourteen years ago, and most importantly, her intimate knowledge of Elizabeth’s private words and dealings…Elizabeth felt herself becoming dizzy. She became deathly pale, and dropped her teacup unto the floor with a low cry.
Darcy dashed forward and caught her as her legs gave way. Quickly, he drew her down upon the sofa, knelt beside it and called her name, attempting to keep her from lapsing into complete unconsciousness.
“Elizabeth…sweetheart… please…keep your eyes open!” he said wildly, caressing her hair and clasping her hand. He turned and was just about to raise his voice to call for Mrs. Reynolds when Miss Bennet weakly reached up and gently pressed her fingertips to his lips.
“Shhh, Fitzwilliam, there is no need,” she murmured. “Just give me a moment, I shall be well.”
“Are you in any pain?” he asked anxiously, turning back to her. “Please tell me what it is, Elizabeth!”
“No, there is no pain…” she whispered, trying to regain her strength for his sake. “I just felt a bit faint, it will pass soon.”
Her fiancé tore himself away from her side just long enough to fill a brandy glass from one of the decanters. Then returning to his kneeling position, he tenderly raised her head and put the glass to her lips. She drank, and the fog cleared from her vision.
“Thank you. I feel much better, my dear,” she said at length.
“Thank God,” Darcy sighed, relief seeping into his countenance as he stroked her hair. Elizabeth reached up and cupped his handsome face with her hand.
“Fitzwilliam, tell me something. You were in the room when your mother died, is that right?”
“Yes, dear,” Darcy said, looking a bit astonished that she was privy of such information.
“George Wickham was your roommate at Cambridge, and you graduated the university with high honors?”
“That is correct,” her intended replied, looking more and more mystified.
“And you found out that your father had died when you came home after finishing Cambridge?”
“Right again! Elizabeth, how do you know all this?!”
The lady sighed, and then with a small smile, replied,
“Your mother told me.”
Darcy’s eyes widened, and begged for an explanation. Elizabeth obliged, and told him the story of her journey to Pemberley that night. As she progressed in her tale, he raised her slightly from the sofa and clasped her in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth as shivers crept down his spine. His darling had seen his mother? She must have. Elizabeth was not of a nervous or insensible disposition, and it was unlikely that she would imagine a phantom. And her knowledge of his past spoke for itself.
After Elizabeth had finished speaking, he gently pressed a kiss upon her forehead and turned to gaze at the portrait of his mother.
“Was…,” he hesitated. “Was she disappointed in me?”
“Not at all,” Elizabeth softly reassured him. “She understood you. And she made me understand you as well.”
Darcy nodded, overcome, and burrowed his face in her chestnut hair.
Chapter 7:
After a few more hours of quiet conversation in the library, dawn was at hand. Before the servants were up, they walked out to the stables by themselves, and Mr. Darcy hitched a horse to his best buggy with his own two hands. Helping her up, her climbed in beside her, and began to drive.
“I am certain that we will reach Lambton before your relations arise, unless they are extremely early risers,” he remarked.
“I believe we shall; and am glad of it. While they are usually very understanding, I believe that even their kind hearts would have trouble believing my story about the events of tonight! I would much rather we receive an invitation to dine at Pemberley in a more usual manner, later in the morning!”
As they drove toward the main gate of Pemberley, Elizabeth caught sight of the rose arbor which Lady Anne had pointed out but a few hours before. Smiling, she thought of her future mother-in-law’s words, and promised herself that she would continue to do a lot of good at Pemberley throughout the years.
THE END
Fitzwilliam Darcy paced through the darkened halls of Pemberley, finding his way via memory and the moonlight which streamed in from the windows. Business had called him home one day sooner than planned, and at first he had been relieved to come back to his own grounds and house without Miss Bingley’s constant smirking and pointed remarks. But now, in the middle of the night, the sleeping and silent Pemberley House felt far too large for him. It wanted a mistress, one with lovely chestnut curls and the most expressive eyes he had ever seen. He wanted, he needed, Elizabeth’s laughter and wit permeating those corridors. But he had been a fool, he had destroyed his own chances with her. It was just for him to be alone that night, even if it was scarcely bearable.
His absentminded wandering had brought him to the portrait gallery, and he gazed around at the walls which held the likenesses of dozens of his ancestors. How many of them had been afflicted with that same, revolting pride which had inspired him to insult the woman he loved and ruin his life?
But there was certainly one portrait in that gallery which did not speak of vanity; indeed, it spoke of nothing but maternal love to him. Lady Anne Darcy looked tenderly down upon her son from the canvas on which she was represented. The portrait had been taken shortly after his birth, and thus it showed a vivacious, joyful woman who bore a striking resemblance to Georgiana rather than the frail, weak creature which she became in her last years.
As he stood there in contemplation, Darcy’s mind travelled to the last interview he had ever had with his mother. Even fourteen years later, he could scarcely hold back his tears as he recalled it.
Lady Anne lay surrounded by pillow upon her grand bed, too tired to sit up. When he entered the room, she completed the monumental task of opening her eyes and smiling weakly at him.
“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, so low that he had to stoop to understand her, “look after your father, and look after my Georgiana.”
“I will, Mama, I will,” he replied, attempting to keep his fourteen-year-old voice from cracking.
“I love you ever so much, my dearest son.”
“I know, Mama. I love you. And I will miss you dreadfully.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam. We are Christians, after all. Do you not believe that I will be more alive than ever on the other side of this threshold?”
“Yes, Mama, but I am afraid you will not be able to guide and advise our lives as readily as you always have.”
“Dearest son, the ties of love and affection which bind us on earth cannot be loosened by death. If the merciful Lord gives me admittance to Heaven, I promise that I will pray for you, Georgiana, and your Papa just as much as I ever did on earth. Perhaps my prayers for your safety and happiness will reach Him even better, since I will know Him much better and be right with Him. That is, if I have been good enough girl here to merit…” she finished with a spasm of coughing.
“Darling Mama, you have only been too good to us, to everyone,” Master Fitzwilliam had said, stroking his mother’s blond tresses.
“I certainly hope so,” Lady Anne humbly managed before another fit of coughing took her breath. His father advanced to the bedside and horrified, gathered her in his arms. Then, as her son watched in unspeakable sorrow, she managed to whisper to her husband and child: “I love you both,” before her grey eyes closed till Judgment Day.
Darcy had kept her parting words close to his heart, and there were many instances when he was absolutely certain that his mother had interceded on his behalf and begged some undeserved graces for him from the Almighty. Last summer, in Ramsgate, for one. After all, the reason which had drawn him there two days early was his mother’s necklace. He had rediscovered it in the Pemberley safe, and thought that it would be the perfect present for Georgiana to celebrate the completion of her studies. His impatience to see her face light up when he presented it to her made him uncharacteristically impulsive and caused him to move up his journey those up by those two crucial days, which allowed him to salvage his sister from the worst cad in England.
But now his own faults had ensnared him in an even more heart-wrenching problem. His mother, if she be in Heaven, along with all the Saints, might pray as long as they pleased, but God’s patience was probably worn out with Fitzwilliam Darcy, and rightly. He took one more glance at Lady Anne’s portrait, and muttered despondently as he recommenced wandering,
“Mama, how little you knew that your son would grow up to be one of the proudest, most disagreeable men in the kingdom!”
Chapter 2:
Elizabeth Bennet prepared for bed in the Lambton inn that evening with a peculiar sense of agitation. Up till that morning, she had enjoyed her trip to Derbyshire exceedingly; the countryside was so pleasant, and the sights were charming. But then that morning, her aunt Gardiner had proposed that they visit Pemberley. Despite her Mrs. Gardiner’s eagerness to see its fine grounds once more and the maid’s assurances that the family were not yet down for the summer, Elizabeth refused to consent to a trip there. After all, she had no business to visit the estate of a man whom she had misjudged, accused, and refused but a few months ago. Thus, she had pleaded off, explaining that she was exhausted of seeing fine houses, and wished for a quiet day with her aunt’s Lambton friends. Her relatives had consented graciously, and enjoyed the day, but ever since then Elizabeth felt a strange unrest hanging over her every minute. Hoping that a good night’s rest could calm it, she retired to bed.
She had not been sleeping for much more than an hour when her dreams were permeated by a feminine voice calling her name.
“Elizabeth.”
Miss Bennet moved slightly in her sleep, ignoring the voice which was trying to rouse her.
“Elizabeth.”
The young woman slowly began to come out of her repose.
“Elizabeth, please.” The voice had become much more insistent.
Miss Bennet opened her eyes, and to her surprise found that while it was still nighttime, her room was no longer dark. Seeking the cause, she sat up in bed, and was stunned to see that two candles on her writing table were lit, and that between them stood a beautiful woman in her late thirties, clad in a silk magenta dress. Her locks were golden and tastefully pinned up, there was a fine necklace around her neck, and her visitor’s grey eyes were focused on herself in a maternal and tender gaze. Elizabeth had never seen her before, she was sure of that; yet something in the lady’s countenance and bearing was slightly familiar to the younger woman.
“Can I help you, madam?” Elizabeth asked, uncertainly.
“No, not me. But there is someone who you can help, Elizabeth. Kindly rise and get dressed.”
“Is it my uncle or aunt?” Miss Bennet asked anxiously as she flung back the covers and stepped out of bed. “Has one of them taken ill?”
“No, not at all. Hurry with your toilette, my dear.”
Mystified, Elizabeth obeyed. How did that peculiar woman know her name? But due to the urgency in her tone, Elizabeth felt that there was not time for questions at the present. Thus, retiring to her dressing room, she changed her attire as quickly as she could, and rejoined the strange lady in a matter of minutes.
“Come,” her mysterious visitor said, and with a swish of her skirts she exited the bedchamber, walked through the common room, and led Miss Bennet out into the hallway.
“Where are we going?” Elizabeth ventured to ask when they started down the staircase. “Are my uncle and aunt there? Have they sent you for me?”
“No, dear. Your relatives sleep quietly.”
Elizabeth hesitated on the stairs and looked back up towards her room anxiously.
“Do not worry. They will not miss you, if all goes well you can return before they rise. Hurry, now.”
The older lady recommenced walking at a faster pace, with Elizabeth having to exert effort to keep up. To Miss Bennet’s shock, her guide led her through the front doors of the inn and into the darkened, abandoned Lambton streets. She was about to question their destination once more when the lady in front of her said,
“Just follow me, child,” as if she had read her thoughts.
Astute young lady that she was, Elizabeth Bennet could not but feel a bit averse to following an unknown woman, albeit quite respectably dressed, about the streets at that time of night. But she gamely allowed herself to be led, assuming that they would be shortly entering one of the Lambton houses where perhaps some young lady had taken ill and needed a nurse or comforter. Her willingness diminished rapidly, however, when they quit the main street and were about to start down an unpaved path which led across the fields.
“Be careful here. The road is a bit uneven. Do take care not to fall,” her guide said.
“No,” Elizabeth exclaimed, stopping short.
The woman stopped, turned and faced Elizabeth, her grey eyes fixing themselves upon her face with gentle understanding, but also a faint light of displeasure.
“Madam, with all due respect, we have not been introduced,” Elizabeth said firmly. “And while I am quite willing to help anyone who is in need, I must also consider my own safety and the peace of mind of my aunt and uncle. I do not know you, and you have refused to tell me where we are going. Thus, it would be nothing if not imprudent for me to accompany you out of the town, especially at one o’clock in the morning. I will not go any further, unless you supply me with further particulars.”
This speech did not offend the older lady; if anything, it made her face shine with admiration.
“Very well, my dear. It does you credit to question me. My name is Lady Anne. I lived in Derbyshire for many years, but fourteen years ago I formally quit it. That event, however, has not prevented me from coming back for frequent visits. On my most recent call, it has come to my attention that someone who I promised to care for is in desperate need of aid. Thus, I have summoned you to render it.”
“Is this person ill?”
“You might say that this person is very sick- at heart.”
“May I ask why you decided that I, of all people, am the best person to help them? Who recommended me and directed you to me? After all, you know nothing of me.”
Lady Anne laughed a soft, tinkering laugh.
“My dearest child, I know you quite well. You are Thomas Bennet’s second-eldest daughter, and have resided in Hertfordshire your whole life. You are one and twenty years of age, witty, and can be quite impertinent, but in a very sweet, harmless sort of way. You are a lady of sense and education, and while you are courageous in your dealings with others, you do not condone impropriety. Nor are you mercenary, for you have refused several offers of marriage which would financially benefit you and yours.”
Elizabeth stared at her, astounded.
“Who has given you such a through account of my character?”
“None, Elizabeth. I have observed it for myself.”
“Impossible. I have never seen you before tonight.”
“My dear, believe me when I say that when it comes to unobserved observation, I have every advantage,” Lady Anne concluded with a peculiar smile.
“Madam, frankly, this interview is becoming more unnerving to me by the minute. Pray suffer me to turn back and go. Surely you can find someone else in Lambton who can help you nurse your friend, or whatever it is you wish for me to do.”
Lady Anne shook her head vehemently.
“No person on earth, other than you, can be of any service in this matter. You assume that I have chosen you randomly to accompany me? You are mistaken, Elizabeth. It was quite a project to get you both this far. By dint of many prayers and pleadings on my part, God took pity and gave me permission to arrange these circumstances. First, I altered your Uncle Gardiner’s business plans, so that he could not take you to the Lakes, but here instead. Then I made sure that my charge was summoned back to Derbyshire early, so as to give you a chance to meet. But that is where you crossed me, Elizabeth. You shunned the whisperings of your heart, and did not do what I had arranged for. You, unknowingly, strayed from the best road, and lost one chance to help a fellow human being and to secure your own happiness. Now is your final chance to make all right. Therefore, come along, and trust me. I promise that soon you will know all you wish, and more.”
Although still a bit uncomfortable, Elizabeth accepted this explanation and stepped down onto the path. Trying to justify her compliance, she told herself that the lady seemed trustworthy, and that there was no reason she should wish her harm. Furthermore, she obviously was powerful if she managed to rearrange Mr. Gardiner’s business to her liking; most likely, she was acquainted with the Gardiners and had learned about their niece from them. She just wished to be mysterious and impertinent by not stating this directly. Comforted by this thought, Elizabeth followed her guide down the path.
Chapter 3:
“I will warn you, it is several miles, but the distance is nothing when one has a purpose,” Lady Anne said as they walked through the fields. Elizabeth followed her willingly for a while, smilingly wondering how she would use her wit and cleverness to entrap Lady Anne into admitting an acquaintance with the Gardiners. Her bravado wilted, however, when she noticed that she was being led directly into a dark, foreboding thicket of trees.
“Is there not a better road?” Elizabeth asked anxiously, slowing down her steps.
“Do not worry, the wood is not exactly as first impressions make it seem. You will see in a moment.”
They passed into it, with Miss Bennet unconsciously holding her breath. But to her surprise, after the first few dozen steps, the wood was not at all as ghoulish as it has appeared on the outside. The crowns of many trees were not thick above the path, and allowed plentiful moonlight to stream in. That pale light showed flowers growing between the trees, and their sweet fragrance perfumed the night air. And instead of owls hooting, nightingales sang a wondrous chorus.
“It is charming!” Elizabeth, exclaimed, relieved.
Lady Anne nodded.
"So frightening on the outside, so pure and handsome on the inside. Just like some people, is it not?”
“I suppose so,” Elizabeth absentmindedly replied.
“You know, it actually reminds me a great deal of one of your acquaintances- Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Elizabeth looked at her guide sharply.
“I see that Mrs. Gardiner told you a great deal about me,”
“You must not blame your aunt, Elizabeth,” Lady Anne rebutted, the peculiar and significant smile again hovering around her lips. “Anyhow, we were speaking of Fitzwilliam.”
“What of him?” Elizabeth inquired, hoping that the elegant woman would not turn around and notice her embarrassed blush. “You call him by his Christian name; have you known him long?”
“I have known him his whole life. And he is just like that wood: to the world he shows an unwelcoming, displeased demeanor, but if you should get to know him better, you would find that he is the kindest, most generous and patient man of your acquaintance.”
Elizabeth tripped over a root on the path and hardly managed to save herself from falling in her shock. Can this be Mr. Darcy?, she thought.
“You are surprised,” Lady Anne said, glancing over her shoulder, “and rightly, considering how he behaves in company. But Elizabeth, please believe me, his disagreeableness is just a mask.”
“If he really is as good-tempered a man as you say, then why would he act so in society?”
“Partially it is a protective mechanism, for otherwise the Miss Bingleys of the world would overrun him. But more importantly, it is because the last untarnished moment of joy he experienced was the day his sister was born.”
Elizabeth laughed, unbelieving. “Lady Anne, I assure you that piece of information will not improve my opinion of Mr. Darcy’s character! If he, a man of sense and education, who has lived in the world and, as I understand it, owns a great portion of that same earth, is not happy, then I do not know how demanding, irrational he must be.”
“So you are suggesting that his wealth is bound to secure his joy? How very mercenary! That is unlike you, Elizabeth. If wealth guarantees joy, then why have you sworn to marry only for the deepest love, instead of for the deepest pocketbook?”
Elizabeth gasped, recognizing the words she had spoken to Jane in the privacy of their own room at Longbourn months ago. Had Jane accidentally betrayed her confidence to Mrs. Gardiner, and had Mrs. Gardiner thoughtlessly repeated her words to the elusive Lady Anne?
“I see you somehow have come by another piece of knowledge which you were never meant to have,” Elizabeth said, displeased. “But I am not ashamed of my words, for I meant them. No, wealth does not secure happiness, I know. But what I meant was that I see no reason why Mr. Darcy should be unhappy.”
Lady Anne stopped on the path ahead, waited for Elizabeth to step closer, and when they were side-by-side she began walking at a slightly slower pace. Then, in a tender voice, she began,
“Fitzwilliam was the happiest, most generous-hearted, most affectionate boy in all the world. He loved his parents dearly, and he was always kind and considerate to the servants who waited upon him. Oh, I wish you could have seen how eagerly he awaited the birth of his little sister, which took place when he was eleven years of age. I will never forget the joy which permeated his sweet face when he held her tiny little form in his arms for the first time. He kissed her little forehead over and over again. I am sure that many other boys, who had been spoilt as much by their parents as he, would have resented a new sibling, but he was only too happy to have another family member to love.”
Elizabeth was silent, trying to picture a young version of Mr. Darcy lavishing caresses on a newborn babe. Her imagination, for the first time in a long while, failed her.
“But that was the last time he was ever truly happy. His mother was greatly weakened by the happy event, and never fully recovered her strength, spiraling into a decline which lasted three years before she went to meet her Maker. Her son watched her suffer, and worried constantly about her. She died in front of him.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth cried, tears gushing into her eyes. She could not imagine losing one of her parents at so young an age, and her heart broke for Mr. Darcy.
“Pemberley House was always filled with a quiet sorrow afterwards, for its master was heartbroken. He raised his two children carefully and affectionately, but his love of life was gone. Fitzwilliam went away to Cambridge when the time came, where he made some good friends among righteous, religious young men like himself, but he did not enjoy himself overmuch either, considering the fact that a certain Mr. Wickham was his constant roommate. Fitzwilliam was disgusted with George Wickham’s vices, and could barely tolerate him day after day. Only respect for his father’s wishes prevented him from requiring his onetime friend to find new lodgings.”
Lady Anne’s assertion about Mr. Darcy’s patience was fast gaining credibility with Elizabeth. It would be difficult enough to listen to Mr. Wickham oozing his false, hollow charm for any length of time, let alone to deal with him when he was intoxicated.
“Despite the fact that he was a stellar student, he began to long to return home and to some semblance of peace. He graduated Cambridge with high honors, and rode home hurriedly, eager to see his father and sister again. But cheer again eluded him. You see, the day before he arrived back at Pemberley, his father’s greatest wish had been suddenly granted- he had gone to join his wife.”
Elizabeth’s hands shook as she groped for a handkerchief. She had never, ever, expected Mr. Darcy’s history to be so full of pain. She made no attempt to interject any words into Lady Anne’s monologue, for her voice had deserted her and had been replaced by sobs.
“Worse of all, the express had passed Fitzwilliam on the road, and he had not the slightest idea until he got into the house itself. Then a footman, who mistakenly believed him to be informed of the past day’s events, said ‘Welcome home, Mr. Darcy’ and offered him his condolences. The poor young man, filled with dread, barely managed to inquire why he had been addressed as Mr. Darcy and not as Master Fitzwilliam, and what was meant by condolences. That is how he found out that the responsibility of raising little girl and tending to nine estates as well as a London townhouse had fallen upon his two and twenty year old shoulders.”
“Oh, poor Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried, unaware of how like Jane she suddenly sounded. “To have to bear all that- and without warning! I wonder he ever recovered from it at all!”
“Until recently, he managed to hold his head up because he believed in himself. He thought himself a good, honest man. But unfortunately, a few months ago his confidence was greatly shaken. And I am grieved indeed to say that it appears that this time, he will not recover from the blow, by himself at least.”
“Has he suffered another tragedy?” Elizabeth exclaimed, horrified. Her throat constricted and her heart struggled to beat under the supposition that Mr. Darcy was miserable once again.
“Yes, he has, and he is more downtrodden than during any previous time in his life. Well, come along, we must not tarry.” That said, Lady Anne again hastened her pace.
“What has happened to Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth inquired, anxiously, attempting to keep up.
“What does it matter to you, child?” Lady Anne said, a bit carelessly and uncharacteristically. “He is nothing but a mere acquaintance to you. His private affairs and sorrows need not concern you.”
Elizabeth could not answer this logic while keeping to the rules of propriety, and so she was forced to relapse into silence. But inside, she was wild. Mr. Darcy, a man who had had more pain in his short eight and twenty years than some people have in a hundred, had met another adversity. Had Mr. Wickham attempted something? Was his sister Georgiana ill? Of course, Lady Anne was correct: Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire had no need-rather, no right- to interfere. But she was frantic to know what ailed Mr. Darcy this time, and for some reason, she was desperately wished that she was in a position to offer some sort of comfort. His Hunsford letter had earned her respect, and Jane’s mourning over him had, despite her witty rebuttals, reinstated her sympathy. And now the entire tale of his unhappy life had, unconsciously, sprout a few seeds of affection for the gentleman whom she had once declared would be the last man in the world whom she could ever be prevailed upon to marry.
Chapter 4:
As Miss Bennet vainly tried to quench the fire burning in her heart, Lady Anne suddenly halted as they reached the top of a very large hill. Elizabeth, still wrapped up in her own thoughts, registered the action just enough to mirror it. Confused at the halt, she looked around and realized that in the valley below a magnificent, ancient mansion stood. It surely had to boast of more than one hundred rooms. Before it lay a large, picturesque lake and an extremely spacious lawn.
“Is it not absolutely beautiful?” Lady Anne asked, smiling at the view before them.
Elizabeth nodded, putting Mr. Darcy out of her mind with difficulty.
“I have never seen a place for which nature has done so much, or where natural beauty has been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.”
“I knew that you would love it, Elizabeth.”
They started down the steep slope. Elizabeth could not conceal a small smile when she realized that they were walking straight towards the house. How wonderful would it be to enter and see what the inside had to offer!
“To the right there is a lovely rose arbor which I was very fond of sitting in, once,” Lady Anne remarked, in a very maternal voice. “You will too, I daresay.”
“I am sure I would, but I do not know if I shall have the time to indulge in such pleasures.”
“If all goes well, you will have more than enough time, dear.”
Elizabeth did not answer, for they were nearing the edifice, and she was consumed with admiring the effect that the moonlight had on the old stone walls of the palatial mansion. Her eyes trained on the upper stories of the building, she absentmindedly heard Lady Anne say,
“This is our destination, my darling. Thank you for coming, Elizabeth, and thank you for all that, God willing, you will do here throughout the years.”
Elizabeth observed the house for a few more moments before she finally registered her companion’s last words with a start.
“All I will do here throughout the years?” she exclaimed. “I am at a complete loss for your meaning, madam!”
No response came. Elizabeth, looking around, suddenly realized that she was standing on the drive alone. She turned about once, twice, her eyes anxiously searching the grounds for any sign of the silk-clad woman who had led her there. Becoming frightened, she noticed the darkened arches of the building which appeared to lead into a courtyard. Of course; Lady Anne had probably gone to enter the house. Hoping that it was not too late to catch up, Elizabeth broke into a run and flew through one of the darkened archways. Her progress was abruptly stopped when she collided into something tall and warm.
Chapter 5:
In the first stunned moment, Elizabeth believed that her unexpected obstacle was Lady Anne herself. She hurriedly attempted to regain her balance and opened her lips to apologize. But before she could even voice an exclamation of regret, the person whom she had collided with proved their excellent reflexes by wrapping her in a strong embrace which pined her arms to her sides as if to prevent her from pulling out a weapon. The action bewildered Elizabeth, and she dimly realized that the arms which held her were too muscular and athletic to be those of a woman. Her panic was made complete when a man’s voice demanded in a furious tone,
“Who are you, and why are you prowling about the courtyard at this time of night?”
Elizabeth was far too frightened to formulate a rational answer. She simply uttered a low cry and allowed self-preservation instincts to take over as she attempted to wrestle away from her captor. She wanted nothing more than to flee from that place, and she mentally castigated herself for being so foolish as to allow Lady Anne to abandon her in the middle of a strange estate.
“Answer me!” the man commanded. Before Miss Bennet could gather her wits and obey, however, he tightened his arms even more and half-dragged her a few steps from the interior of the darkened passageway to the inside of the moonlight-lit courtyard. Then he looked down at the intruder who he had arrested in his arms.
He had expected to see a short man with a scheming and conniving face. He knew that none of the servants had a habit of wandering out of doors in the middle of the night, and if any of the tenants had needed help, they would have knocked at the side door, which was within earshot of Mrs. Reynolds’ quarters, instead of approaching the front of the house. Thus, the only person who could possibly be in the courtyard at three o’clock in the morning was a thief, someone who wished to gain unlawful entry into the house and take a few souvenirs with them.
But as the prisoner turned their face up to the moonlight, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, the man was stunned to find that he was holding a woman. A young, terrified woman. His first reaction was surprise, then utter dejection. So this was how low he had sunk- roughly handling and frightening young ladies. She had been right; he was no gentleman, indeed!
Just as he was about to loosen his arms from the bewildered and probably lost woman, she looked up and looked full into his face, her dark, mussed curls falling away from her countenance in the process. And then, recognition and shock dawned in both pairs of eyes.
The lady was the first to find her voice.
“Mr. Darcy!” she cried out, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and relief.
He did not answer her, nor did he attempt to withdraw his arms from about her. They were frozen in the embrace.
“I…I…this time I have outdone myself, indeed,” he muttered at long last, staring at her like a ravenously thirsty man in the desert would look at a glass of cold water. “I have dreamed about her every night for months, but tonight she is so real…almost as real as if she truly stood here, in my arms. And at Pemberley, no less. Oh, Elizabeth, sweet dream or delirious vision you might be, but you look just like you did when I met you at Netherfield last autumn, when you walked three miles to nurse your sister. Your eyes are again brightened by the exercise, and your hair is again windblown. How completely besotted I am, that my mind makes up these hallucinations to give me a little comfort from my daily torture!”
Elizabeth could not speak. In a rush, she remembered that Mr. Darcy was reputed to be very unhappy of late, and to be doubting his worth as a gentleman. Could her behavior at Hunsford have affected so great a change as this? Was she the cause of his most recent melancholy? Her heart broke at the sight of his yearning, lovesick face.
“Mr. Darcy,” she began softly, “you are not dreaming. I am here, truly here.”
The gentleman shook his head.
“Impossible. You hate me; you would never come to Pemberley of your own free will.”
Tears sprung to Elizabeth’s eyes upon hearing his bitter and hopeless tone. Her heart began to beat for this man, who had been so wounded by her and in spite of it, still clearly loved her. She hastened to reassure him.
“No, sir, I do not hate you,” she replied in a pleading tone. “If you are referring to my outburst in Hunsford, Mr. Darcy, I assure you that I have long been ashamed of it. I said some dreadful and untrue things in my anger and ignorance. You are a good man, an honorable gentleman, and a devoted brother, sir. And as for my being here, I did not know that what place and estate this was until you unwittingly informed me just now. It is true that I would not come if I had known, for I would never wish to disturb your privacy. However, if you are not displeased with my presence, then I have no regret of coming hither.”
“Displeased with your presence! Elizabeth, that could never be! But, are you real, my darling?”
She smiled a bit through her tears.
“If I am not, then you certainly are holding a column of air very tightly, indeed!”
Her characteristic wit broke the spell. Realization flooded his face, and, to her deep disappointment, he finally relaxed his arms. Blushing fiercely he stammered,
“Oh…Miss Bennet… forgive me! I apologize for my behavior, it was horrendous and ungentlemanly. In particular, I am so sorry for dragging you from the archway in such a disgraceful manner…What must you think of me?” his voice faded and broke.
“I think that you are indeed a gentleman, Mr. Darcy, who was rightly defending his house and those within it. It is I who should apologize, for wandering about Pemberley in the middle of the night without an invitation from you.”
The master of the estate shook his head.
“No, Miss Bennet, you certainly have nothing to apologize for. You will always be welcome at Pemberley.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to blush furiously. She turned away her face in an effort to hide the scarlet tone of her cheeks. It was in vain, however. The Master of Pemberley noticed her color, and it taught him to hope as he had scarcely ever allowed himself to hope before. She was at least not disgusted by his remark! It drove him to say, out of sheer desperation,
“Miss Bennet…I suppose that under the circumstances we may do away with propriety, with that careful dance of hidden meanings and interpretations?”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, blushing still more deeply.
“Please feel free to halt me if my chosen subject is not to your liking, Miss Bennet. I have betrayed myself quite freely just now; it must be plain to you that the feelings I avowed in Hunsford have done nothing but deepened since then. I do not mean to impose upon you in any way, but considering what you have said just now, if you truly meant it…is there any hope that in the future, they could prove to be acceptable to you?”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried out, turned around to face him once more. She could scarcely believe what words which were brimming up to her lips, but after the peculiar events of that night she was willing to conclude that anything was possible. She felt as if her feelings had been taken for a wild ride, but now it had almost concluded, and she would be safe presently…in a strong pair of arms.
“Mr. Darcy,” she recommenced. “I hope that you will not think me and my opinions extremely mercurial, but in the months since April I have learned and reflected a great deal. And I have determined that your declarations are no longer as distasteful to me as they once were; indeed, if anything, they are gratefully accepted and very pleasant to hear. I do not need time, and you do not need to wait for the future. If it is not too forward of me, I would be thrilled to accept them, and return them, wholeheartedly tonight.”
He reached out and grasped her hands, disbelief and heartfelt delight rushing into his face.
“Did I hear you correctly, Miss Bennet…Elizabeth?”
“Yes, you have!” she cried out laughing.
He gazed at her for one more moment, before drawing her once more into his embrace and holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. Completely forgetting Lady Anne and the entire world, for that matter, Elizabeth lay her head upon her new fiancé’s shoulder and allowed him to kiss her hair, forehead and cheeks. In between these caresses, he murmured in an overwhelmed and choked voice,
“Earlier this evening I considered myself the most wrenched of men, thinking myself an utter failure among mankind…and now, one of the world’s most precious treasures has fallen into my arms, and for reasons I cannot fathom, has consented to be mine, all mine! Oh Elizabeth, I have failed you so in the past, but thank you for this chance. If it be at all in my power, I will make you the happiest woman on earth for it!”
“I am sure you will, Fitzwilliam,” the lady replied, placing the slightest emphasis on his Christian name.
Overcome by redoubled emotion by hearing his first name from Elizabeth’s lips, Darcy caught her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. The action led him to notice something.
“Your hands are cold,” he said, tenderly and worriedly.
“’Tis a rather chilly night,” Elizabeth replied. “I did not notice it when I was walking quickly, for the heat of the exercise kept me warm.”
“We must not stand out here,” Darcy said practically. “I cannot let you become ill. Come into the house, darling.”
He took her hand, and led her through the double front doors. Feeling around a small table near the entrance, he struck a match and lit a single candle. By its light, he escorted her through the corridors.
“I do admire your taste in furnishings, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said in an awed voice. “Pemberley has more elegance than Rosings!”
“You approve of it?” Darcy inquired anxiously.
“Of course!” she exclaimed, still marveling that of such a place she would be mistress. “Anyone who does not approve cannot be a sensible person!”
Darcy smiled slyly.
“I should warn you that Lady Catherine has berated my choice of decorations for quite some time…”
Amid Elizabeth’s laughter, they entered Darcy’s study.
Chapter 6:
The room was well-lit, since Darcy had left the candles burning when he had gone wandering about the house.
“Gracious! Is this a study, a parlor, or a library?” Elizabeth exclaimed as she walked into the spacious room which had a large ornate desk, several filled bookshelves, a side table holding decanters of port, sherry and brandy, and even a lovely sofa.
“My desk is here, so it is my study.”
“Maybe for my wedding present you should get me a map of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam. Otherwise I just might become lost in this mansion. You may never find me again!”
“I would much rather be your guide every moment of the day, dearest, and never leave your side.”
Elizabeth blushed furiously as Darcy went to retrieve a pot of tea which was being kept warm by the fireplace. Mrs. Reynolds had sent it up earlier in the evening after the master had declined to partake of dinner.
“Would you like some tea, Elizabeth? It will help warm you.”
“Thank you, I believe I will.”
He poured it into a teacup and brought handed it to her with a smile. As he was pouring another cup for himself, she leaned against the richly ornamented desk and gazed around at the decorations of the chamber. Her eye happened to fall upon a pair of portraits on the opposite side of the room. The one on the left was particularly familiar.
“Why, that is the likeness of Lady Anne!” she exclaimed.
Darcy turned and followed her gaze.
“Quite so. How did you know, my darling?”
Elizabeth laughed at the question.
“I simply recognized her face, Fitzwilliam.”
“I did not know that you had ever seen a portrait of my mother before so as to be able to know her likeness.”
“I have not seen a likeness of your mother, Fitzwilliam. We were talking of Lady Anne.”
“They are one and the same. My mother’s name was Lady Anne Darcy, and that is her portrait, next to my father’s. She died fourteen years ago.”
Elizabeth sharply whirled around to take another glance at the fateful portrait. Yes, it was her beyond any question- the same eyes, the same hair, even the same kind, maternal expression. Suddenly the significance of the entire night crashed down upon the younger woman. Her visitor’s unexpected appearance in her bedchamber at the inn, her claim to have lived in Derbyshire and to have quit it fourteen years ago, and most importantly, her intimate knowledge of Elizabeth’s private words and dealings…Elizabeth felt herself becoming dizzy. She became deathly pale, and dropped her teacup unto the floor with a low cry.
Darcy dashed forward and caught her as her legs gave way. Quickly, he drew her down upon the sofa, knelt beside it and called her name, attempting to keep her from lapsing into complete unconsciousness.
“Elizabeth…sweetheart… please…keep your eyes open!” he said wildly, caressing her hair and clasping her hand. He turned and was just about to raise his voice to call for Mrs. Reynolds when Miss Bennet weakly reached up and gently pressed her fingertips to his lips.
“Shhh, Fitzwilliam, there is no need,” she murmured. “Just give me a moment, I shall be well.”
“Are you in any pain?” he asked anxiously, turning back to her. “Please tell me what it is, Elizabeth!”
“No, there is no pain…” she whispered, trying to regain her strength for his sake. “I just felt a bit faint, it will pass soon.”
Her fiancé tore himself away from her side just long enough to fill a brandy glass from one of the decanters. Then returning to his kneeling position, he tenderly raised her head and put the glass to her lips. She drank, and the fog cleared from her vision.
“Thank you. I feel much better, my dear,” she said at length.
“Thank God,” Darcy sighed, relief seeping into his countenance as he stroked her hair. Elizabeth reached up and cupped his handsome face with her hand.
“Fitzwilliam, tell me something. You were in the room when your mother died, is that right?”
“Yes, dear,” Darcy said, looking a bit astonished that she was privy of such information.
“George Wickham was your roommate at Cambridge, and you graduated the university with high honors?”
“That is correct,” her intended replied, looking more and more mystified.
“And you found out that your father had died when you came home after finishing Cambridge?”
“Right again! Elizabeth, how do you know all this?!”
The lady sighed, and then with a small smile, replied,
“Your mother told me.”
Darcy’s eyes widened, and begged for an explanation. Elizabeth obliged, and told him the story of her journey to Pemberley that night. As she progressed in her tale, he raised her slightly from the sofa and clasped her in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth as shivers crept down his spine. His darling had seen his mother? She must have. Elizabeth was not of a nervous or insensible disposition, and it was unlikely that she would imagine a phantom. And her knowledge of his past spoke for itself.
After Elizabeth had finished speaking, he gently pressed a kiss upon her forehead and turned to gaze at the portrait of his mother.
“Was…,” he hesitated. “Was she disappointed in me?”
“Not at all,” Elizabeth softly reassured him. “She understood you. And she made me understand you as well.”
Darcy nodded, overcome, and burrowed his face in her chestnut hair.
Chapter 7:
After a few more hours of quiet conversation in the library, dawn was at hand. Before the servants were up, they walked out to the stables by themselves, and Mr. Darcy hitched a horse to his best buggy with his own two hands. Helping her up, her climbed in beside her, and began to drive.
“I am certain that we will reach Lambton before your relations arise, unless they are extremely early risers,” he remarked.
“I believe we shall; and am glad of it. While they are usually very understanding, I believe that even their kind hearts would have trouble believing my story about the events of tonight! I would much rather we receive an invitation to dine at Pemberley in a more usual manner, later in the morning!”
As they drove toward the main gate of Pemberley, Elizabeth caught sight of the rose arbor which Lady Anne had pointed out but a few hours before. Smiling, she thought of her future mother-in-law’s words, and promised herself that she would continue to do a lot of good at Pemberley throughout the years.
THE END