Desperate Hearts: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 12

  “I believe we can accomplish both of these ends at the same time,” the Colonel proposed. “May I suggest that we three away to town on the morrow, first to reassure Darcy and then to meet your sister? I believe he can endure one more night of uneasiness, and anyway an express would not get there much before we would. Do you have a carriage that will accommodate the three of us, Mr. Bennet, or shall I endeavor to borrow a carriage from the good Mr. Bingley?”

  “Oh no!” Elizabeth spoke up quickly. “We must include Jane in this adventure. I am certain that she would wish to meet her sister too, I mean her cousin – especially a duplicate of her favourite sister!” Elizabeth smiled and fluttered her lashes. Both Mr. Bennet and the Colonel grinned at her.

  “You must be anxious to see both of your nieces together again after all this time, Mr. Bennet” the Colonel said.

  Mr. Bennet’s smile grew larger. “Indeed I would, son. And I would have no objection to Jane’s accompanying us; it would certainly make the travel more enjoyable for Lizzy to have her sister in our party.” To the Colonel he said “My carriage can accommodate four people but it is not a comfortable mode of travel beyond short distances. Perhaps we can prevail upon the kindness of Mr. Bingley to borrow one of his carriages? Although if we apply to him, he may wish to join our party. Well, that would certainly make it easier to convince him of the need for a finer carriage!” He winked again at Elizabeth, who completely understood his meaning.

  “Then it is agreed. We shall leave first thing tomorrow morning for London, where we shall arrange happy endings for all of these dramas. I will make arrangements with Bingley, and I – or we – will be here directly after breakfast to fetch the two – or three – of you.” The Colonel rose, drained his cup, placed it back on the desk, and reached his hand out to Mr. Bennet, who – with a happy smile on his face – rose and grasped the Colonel’s hand, shaking it warmly.

  Elizabeth also stood, and enumerated the list of things she would undertake that evening. “I must speak with Jane privately, we must devise a reason that will satisfy Mama of why we wish to travel so precipitously to town with Papa and the Colonel, and then we must prepare for the journey. It will be a busy evening. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I shall begin my tasks without further delay. But before I forget, please allow me to thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for myself and for all of my family.”

  The Colonel bowed to her and she in turn curtsied and took her leave of the study. Mr. Bennet had one more question to ask of the Colonel: “I have an old address for my niece but she may not be there any longer, not since her marriage. Yes, she is married to this Mr. Moretti. I cannot imagine what their game is in presenting themselves as being unmarried, but we shall uncover all when we get to town. Do you know where my niece lives in London? Will it present any difficulty to find her?”

  “She has been staying in a house just opposite my cousin’s townhouse in Mayfair,” he replied. “With her husband, apparently. It will be no trouble at all to locate her.”

  With that, Mr. Bennet came out from behind his desk and placing his hand on the Colonel’s shoulder they walked out of the study together. As they walked past the dining room towards the front door, the Colonel bowed deeply. “Good evening, ladies, and thank you for your forbearance in allowing me to spend this time with Mr. Bennet.”

  Mr. Bennet whispered to him “If you wish to quit this house before midnight, son, I suggest you keep walking and not engage the ladies in any conversation.” The Colonel nodded his thanks and departed the house straight away.

  Mr. Bennet sat down at his usual spot at the table and began to partake of the excellent dinner, remnants of which were still on the table. Lizzy and Jane, he noted, were no longer in the dining room.

  Twenty-nine: Netherfield, a short time later, in Bingley’s study

  “What an incredible tale!” Bingley enthused when Colonel Fitzwilliam had apprised him of all that had occurred in London and at Longbourn. “So Miss Elizabeth has a twin sister? And you are all determined to seek her out and make her acquaintance? And meanwhile Darcy has been pining away over his supposedly lost love? Indeed this could be a story taken directly from a fanciful novel!”

  “The question is whether you wish to accompany us to town, and whether we can impose upon you for the use of a carriage for this purpose?”

  Bingley, still overcome by the intelligence the Colonel had imparted to him, replied “Yes, of course! I shall have my man arrange for the coach to be ready and waiting first thing in the morning. I think it is probably too late to get an express out to Darcy to expect us on the morrow.”

  “Do not concern yourself, Bingley” the Colonel answered with a grin. “I am in the habit of dropping in on my cousin unannounced whenever I am in town, and I am sure that you and the charming Bennet sisters will also be most welcome at Darcy’s London house.”

  With a smile of satisfaction, Bingley rang for his butler and enthusiastically asked him to arrange the carriage, along with a basket of fruit, cheese, sweet buns, and wine for the journey, for early the following morning, and to awaken both himself and the Colonel at first light of day in order to make their preparations.

  These instructions having been given, Bingley asked the Colonel to join him in a glass of port, to which the Colonel readily agreed. Understanding that Fitzwilliam had not had any supper, neither at Netherfield nor at Longbourn, he also rang for the housekeeper to bring a tray with a cold meal for the Colonel. Happily settled in two comfortable chairs facing the fireplace, Bingley began peppering Colonel Fitzwilliam with questions about Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, and the observations and deductions that had led the Colonel to Longbourn. With a warm fire, good port, and a full stomach, the Colonel obligingly gave Bingley a full run-down of the events of the past week. Bingley listened eagerly, often shaking his head in astonishment at all that had occurred.

  “Tomorrow should be an eventful, and very interesting, day,” Bingley observed.

  Taking another sip of port, Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced at Bingley. “Indeed it should.”

  Thirty: The following morning

  “What do you mean, my brother left an hour ago for town? Why was I not informed that he planned to be away from Netherfield? And why on Earth is he traveling with those Bennets?” Caroline Bingley was furious, and she did not scruple to vent her ire on the most conveniently-located servant.

  The footman shrugged his shoulders. “The master did not instruct us to inform you, madam.” Outwardly he was simply doing his duty; inwardly he was smiling at this slight to the rude and obnoxious sister of his master.

  A feeling of uneasiness gripped Caroline. “What does this mean?” she mused as she made her way to her apartment. Bridget’s letter had given her great hope that their scheme had succeeded in convincing Mr. Darcy that Eliza Bennet was not worth his attentions. “Has Mr. Darcy’s cousin unraveled our plot to separate him and my brother from those worthless Bennet chits? Are they now going to town to plead with Mr. Darcy not to abandon that girl? Is that where they are all headed, and perhaps to see the imposter for themselves? Or maybe to see if they can take legal action?” Caroline’s blood again ran cold. “Damnation!” she swore. “Could that blasted Colonel not have kept his nose out of this business, or at least waited until Mr. Darcy had foresworn his attachment to Eliza Bennet?” She began to pace, considering whether she should send an express to Lady Catherine, or just let it all play out and see what happened before taking any further steps on her own. This not knowing what to expect or what to do was a new experience for Caroline. Patience and waiting to see how events would unfold rather than controlling them was not in her nature. She needed to do something. Anything. But what could she do but wait?

  Meanwhile, in London, Anne’s maid had just helped her dress and was now arranging her hair. Anne tucked it under her bonnet and took her pelisse and gloves from the footman, as she and Mrs. Jenkinson made their way out the front door and into the waiting phaeton. The small carriage had not served particularl
y comfortably for the journey from Rosings to Mayfair, but it would be a lovely conveyance to travel around town. “Mother thought that by sending Denton to Bromley to prevent my obtaining a larger carriage that she could prevent me from traveling to London,” Anne mused with a scowl on her face. “Well, she was mistaken. We all would have preferred a larger carriage so we could make the journey in one day rather than stopping to stretch out and rest from being cramped into the phaeton, but now that we are here in town it no longer matters that getting here involved some discomfort. And now I can purchase a larger carriage at my leisure.”

  Anne smiled at Andrews as he handed her into the phaeton. Once she was seated, he asked her for the direction and she told him the address of Darcy’s townhouse. Andrews bowed and climbed up to the driver’s seat. Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson – both feeling wholly unperturbed ever since they had arrived in London – leaned back comfortably on the soft cushions. Still not in the peak of health, Anne had required a day to rest after her lengthy travels, and was determined to see Darcy this morning, hoping it was not too late. The morning was cool, but the sun shone brightly, warming them as they began the short journey from the hotel to her cousin’s townhouse.

  Some minutes later they pulled to a stop in front of Darcy’s house. Anne looked up at the handsome façade, impressed – as always – by its elegance. Mrs. Jenkinson, who had learned in all these years in Lady Catherine’s service to maintain a neutral countenance at all times, was clearly pleased and impressed. She smiled at Anne and patted her hands. “It is a beautiful house,” she remarked to Anne. “Wait until you see the inside, Mrs. Jenkinson. It is even more beautiful,” Anne assured her.

  Andrews leapt down, opened the carriage door, dropped the step, and handed out first Anne followed by her companion. Andrews was pleased and proud at his new elevated station after several years of being practically invisible at Rosings Park. He stood next to the carriage while the two ladies climbed the steps and rang the bell. The door was opened a moment later by Darcy’s butler.

  “Anne de Bourgh and her companion to see Mr. Darcy,” Anne informed Doran, the butler, as the two ladies stepped into the house and began to divest themselves of their outdoor garments. As a maid was taking them, Anne caught a movement at the end of the hallway out of the corner of her eye.

  “Miss de Bourgh! How delightful to see you! It has been far too long since you have graced this house. Is your elegant mother here with you?” Mrs. Doran, the housekeeper, smiled, dropped a curtsy, and then walked over to take Anne’s hands in welcome. Mr. and Mrs. Doran had been in service to the Darcys since before Anne and her cousin were even born. Anne met her eyes. “No, Lady Catherine is not accompanying us today. This is Mrs. Jenkinson, my companion. Is my cousin at home?” she asked.

  “Indeed he is, madam. He is in his study. I am sure he will be very happy to see you. Please follow me.” Mrs. Doran turned her smile to include Mrs. Jenkinson. When they reached the door to the sitting room, Mrs. Doran ushered them in and suggested they make themselves comfortable while she went to fetch Mr. Darcy. At the door to the study, she knocked lightly. At Darcy’s “Come” she opened the door, stepped inside, and announced Miss Anne de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson. Darcy, who had been sitting at his desk trying to concentrate on a letter from his solicitor, pushed the paper aside and was off straight away to the sitting room to welcome his guests.

  “Annie!” Darcy using his pet name for her. “How wonderful to see you, and looking so well! What are you doing here in town? And where is my aunt?” Darcy took Anne’s hand, bent over it, and bestowed a kiss. He bobbed a bow to Mrs. Jenkinson, and then looked to Mrs. Doran, expecting her to announce Lady Catherine.

  “I am here with Mrs. Jenkinson and a few servants, Wills,” This endearment, first used by Darcy’s beloved mother, was now Georgiana’s and Anne’s favourite term of endearment for her cousin. “My mother as far as I know is still in Kent. You may as well know, I have finally removed myself from Rosings and intend to take up lodgings here in town. Permanently.” she added quickly, looking Darcy straight in the eye.

  Darcy looked down to meet her eyes. “I see. You must tell me what brought this all about?” Darcy called to Mrs. Doran to bring tea, sandwiches, and biscuits. As she turned to leave, Mrs. Doran asked Mrs. Jenkinson if she wished to accompany her to the kitchen to enjoy a pot of tea with her and the cook. Mrs. Jenkinson immediately acquiesced and followed her out of the study.

  Darcy took up a shawl that had been draped over one of the sofas. “Here, make yourself comfortable, Annie. I imagine you have much to tell me of what precipitated this monumental change in residence?” Darcy smiled at her – unbeknownst to her, his first smile in over a week – as he seated her on the comfortable chair near the fireplace and placed the shawl over her lap and legs. He himself took a seat in a chair next to hers. He reached for her hand, and placing his own hand over hers, encouraged her to begin her story.

  “As you know, Wills, I have never been in robust health,” she began. “I spoke of this some years ago with Leo (Georgiana’s and Anne’s pet name for their cousin Lionel) but I do not believe we two have ever discussed my health,” she turned her head to gaze into the fireplace. “I have long suspected that my mother has been instructing our physician to keep me in poor health so she could keep me isolated at Rosings. I do not know what is in those powders I am obliged to take, but I believe they are not all for the improvement of my condition.”

  Darcy put his hand to his chin as he pondered this. “So you suspect the doctor has been poisoning you at your mother’s behest? This is indeed serious, Annie. Why would she do this?”

  “Perhaps not poison but something that causes ill health. Yes, I do. To keep me forever a child under her control, of course.” Anne surprised even herself as she admitted this, and blushed in embarrassment lest Darcy think her mad.

  But Darcy just held her hand and looked into her eyes. “Annie, I have a confession to make. Fitzwilliam and I have spoken of this several times after our yearly visits to Kent. We have never understood why the physician tends you constantly, but instead of improving your health it seems to be worsening every year. Is this why you left Rosings?” Darcy asked her, still holding her hand.

  “In part, yes,” she replied. “I have wanted to escape from Rosings, and my mother, for many years, but I could never find the courage.”

  Darcy looked at her with sadness in his eyes, saying “Dearest Annie, why did you never speak of this with Fitzwilliam or myself? We surely would have helped you. I could have brought you back to Pemberley, where Georgiana would have been delighted to look after you.”

  Anne looked away again from his gaze. “No, I could not do that. It would have encouraged my mother to believe that we were to be married. And that is something that neither you nor I would have wished.” Anne looked back at him, meeting the sadness in his eyes with a sadness of her own. “You know quite well that we two decided years ago that her desire for our marriage was nothing more than wishful thinking. I could not go to Pemberley as your betrothed, but neither could I go simply as your cousin.”

  Darcy kissed her hand again, and told her “We could have worked something out for you. We could have – we would have – done all within our power to help you. Did you not know that?”

  “Yes, I suppose I did,” she replied. “But as I said, I had not the courage. Until now. Something has happened that compelled me to finally leave Kent. Quite possibly until I take full possession of the estate. And in part it concerns you. Wills, I hope you do not mind my saying so, but you are looking quite ragged.”

  Ignoring her observation, and Darcy gave her a puzzled look. “What on Earth has happened? Please tell me.”

  A knock on the door preceded Mrs. Doran bringing in the tea. She set it up on the low table between the settee and the chair Darcy occupied. “Shall I pour?” Mrs. Doran asked, reaching for the teapot. Darcy and Anne answered as one: “No, I can pour.” They looked at each other and laughed. Mrs. Doran curt
sied and left the room to go to her own tea downstairs.

  “Here, allow me,” Anne pushed Darcy’s hand away from the teapot. Darcy took on a mock stern expression and said “Annie, may I remind you that I am the host in this house?” he said, reaching for the teapot once more.

  “Wills,” Anne said with some exasperation, “I realize that I am not mistress of your house, but I am your cousin. I have never had the privilege of preparing tea for anyone, not even for myself. I have never been permitted to exert myself to such an extent – certainly not in an endeavor that was so below my station in life, as my mother says.” Anne smiled at him again. “Please allow me. It would give me great pleasure,” she said. “Now how do you take your tea, sir?” Darcy smiled back at her and asked for “strong, with sugar and lemon.” Anne prepared the cup and handed it to him, then prepared a weaker cup with some sugar for herself. Settling back in their respective seats, the cousins sipped the tea, with Darcy regarding Anne carefully.

  “Now tell me everything” he encouraged Anne. She in turn asked him a question. “Wills, do I understand that you have formed an attachment to a young lady whom you wish to marry?”

  Darcy, looking somewhat ill at ease, answered “Yes, there is someone, but our courtship seems to have run into some obstacles lately.”