Love Will Grow_A Pride and Prejudice Story Read online

  *

  Each footstep through the grand antechamber met with the uncertainty of whether she would ever walk those halls again. The towering ceilings and walls painted with stunning depictions of warring gods clad in crimson and royal blues, the ornate furnishings and the marbled sculptures—Elizabeth had grown rather accustomed to the ostentatious display of wealth exemplified by Rosings Park. With her time in Kent nearing its end, she marvelled at largely having managed to escape Lady Catherine’s attention. She owed her good fortune to the presence of her ladyship’s nephews. Her ladyship’s excessive fondness for her nephews had been a blessing in disguise, allowing Elizabeth to visit Anne without stirring the illustrious lady’s curiosity.

  The diminution of the Rosings party was the first topic of discussion once the Hunsford party had taken their seats.

  “I assure you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine. “I believe nobody feels the loss of friends so much as I do. As much as I am particularly attached to these young men, I know them to be just as much attached to me!” Lady Catherine held her head high and jutted her aristocratic chin. “They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at the last, but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely—more, I think, than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases. I am convinced each visit brings him closer to declaring himself to my Anne.”

  Lady Catherine went on and on lamenting her diminished society until it was time for dinner. None of her ladyship’s misfortunes lessened Elizabeth’s discomfort. The tumult in her mind roared. Had nothing she said to Mr. Darcy carried any weight? Knowing what he now knew—no doubt always knew if he would but admit it—how dare he depart from Kent leaving poor Anne in suspense?

  After dinner, Lady Catherine focused her attention upon Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, you seem out of spirits. I suppose you do not like the idea of going home again so soon.” She cocked her head to the side. “As that most certainly is the case, you must write to your mother and you must beg to stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad for your company, I am sure.”

  “I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” said Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. I wrote to my parents telling them of my plans to return to town where I shall join my sister as soon as tomorrow. I would not have them thinking I am fickle.”

  Her ladyship reared her head back. “I beg your pardon, young lady, but I had rather supposed you were to remain here for another two weeks at least. Indeed, I have looked forward to getting better acquainted with you now that my nephews are gone and I have nothing better to do.”

  “I regret missing such an opportunity, your ladyship, but alas, my mind is made up.”

  “And what of Anne? Surely you can remain here if for nothing other than the sake of your blossoming friendship. She has often spoken of the pleasure she derives from your company.”

  All eyes turned to Anne, who sat beside Elizabeth. She lowered her head, neither confirming nor denying her mother’s assertion.

  As soon as her ladyship was distracted, Anne leaned closer to Elizabeth and asked her to join her for a turn about the room. This being her first opportunity to converse with Anne in privacy since her arrival, Elizabeth readily acquiesced.

  The two ladies stood, joined arms, and set off to the farthest corner of the room. Anne said, “Pay no attention to my mother. As much as I am sorry you are leaving, I would never ask such a thing of you as my mother recommended. I expect you are eager to return to your sisters.”

  “Indeed, I am—especially Jane, who is suffering from a broken heart.”

  “Yes, you spoke of her suffering before. I am sorry to hear she fares no better. However, I would ask one thing of you.”

  Elizabeth looked at Anne intently, but said nothing. Having failed her so miserably in fulfilling her first request, what more might she wish of me?

  “Elizabeth, I would love to keep up a mutual correspondence with you. I wish to know all that you are doing until you return to the Parsonage to visit dear Charlotte, perhaps as soon as next year.”

  Smiling faintly, Elizabeth remained silent.

  “My mother was right about one thing. You are very altered this evening, Elizabeth. Your mood is quite sullen.”

  “Anne, you must forgive me. My dour mood is born of my regret that your cousin left Kent without stating his intentions as regards your future.”

  “You must not blame yourself for my cousin’s neglect. I am certain you did everything in your power to advocate on my behalf. No—I am convinced he will do what is expected of him in his own time.” Anne sighed. “There is always next spring when he visits us again.”

  Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Did the two of you talk before he left?”

  “I am afraid we did not. I did not know he was leaving as early as he did. He was gone before I came downstairs. Moreover, I did not see him at dinner last evening because he did not join us. In fact, the last time I saw my cousin, he was abruptly leaving our country outing. Richard said he had important matters to attend. Of course, I was sorry you did not return from your walk. Richard said you wished to return to the Parsonage alone.”

  Elizabeth diverted her eyes.

  Anne said, “Elizabeth, please do not look so troubled. As I said, I am sure you did all you could with respect to my stubborn cousin. I appreciate it. I shall not forget your kindness, especially as you were under no obligation to either of us.”

  At that moment, Lady Catherine spoke in a raised voice from across the room. “What is it the two of you are discussing, Anne? I must have my share of the conversation.”

  “Oh! Mother, we are merely discussing the weather.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. How ironic that Anne had elected such subterfuge in responding to Lady Catherine—especially in view of Elizabeth’s present circumstance. Misapprehensions left unchallenged and truths gone unspoken were at the heart of her current predicament. And what of Anne’s earlier request that they should keep up a correspondence?

  What might I possibly express to Anne in a missive that would make a modicum of difference in light of all that I must try desperately to conceal?

  Chapter 9

  “Cousin Anne often mentioned Miss Elizabeth Bennet in her letters.”

  Whatever her reasoning, Darcy’s younger sister, Georgiana, would not be satisfied until he had given her a full accounting of his trip to Kent. Since sitting down at the breakfast table, she had sprinkled him with one question after another. Her guardian and nearly twelve years her senior, he always enjoyed spending time with his sister. Such was not the case on that particular morning. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his recent trip.

  “I imagine she did,” Darcy said. “The two of you have always been rather close, you and Anne.”

  “Indeed.” Tilting her head to the side, Georgiana said, “I recall you having mentioned Miss Elizabeth in your letters from Kent as well.”

  Darcy continued scrutinizing his morning paper. His fury over the icy manner of Elizabeth’s harsh rejection fought against his desire to stay collected in front of his sister.

  “The two of you were often in each other’s company whilst in Hertfordshire if I am not mistaken.”

  “You are correct. A result of the less varied society in the country—I assure you.”

  “I imagine the society in Kent was equally less varied. Did you have the chance to spend much time in Miss Elizabeth’s company during your stay?”

  Darcy could not go on pretending curt responses to his sister’s inquiries would bring them to a quick end. He laid his paper aside. “Why are you so interested in the goings-on of Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  Lowering her head, she said, “Pardon me, Brother, for speaking out of turn.” Her voice softened. “It is just that Anne speaks so highly of her. I remember you often spoke highly of her as well. I am curious about Miss Elizabeth. I should like to meet her.”

&nbs
p; How he had wanted that as well. Georgiana was shy. How she would have benefited from Elizabeth’s influence. Now it was too late. He had gone to Elizabeth with an offer of marriage. He had suffered no doubt of her willingness to accept it—to accept him—to be overjoyed. In truth, the only time she had ever given thought to such a possibility was to consider that he was the last man in the world she could be prevailed on to marry. If he lived to be one hundred, if he went on to meet and fall in love with another—someone far more suited, he would never erase those words from his mind.

  From where he sat, the likelihood that such a time would ever come seemed hopeless. How might he even think of another woman, of life without Elizabeth, when he loved her as much as he did? How had he been so mistaken about her regard for him?

  Darcy reached out and placed his hands upon his sister’s. “I wanted the two of you to meet as well.”

  “You speak as though it is too late.”

  Darcy stood to quit the room. He did not want his young sister seeing the bout of melancholy threatening to overwhelm him. As much as he wanted to suffer through the pain and humiliation of Elizabeth’s rejection so he might soon be himself again, his sister did not need to bear witness to it. “Georgiana, please pardon me. I have correspondence to attend this morning. I fear I have put it off too long.”

  In truth, nothing of consequence would flow from his pen that day. A single unanswered question consumed him: Would he ever recover from the pain she had inflicted upon him? Miss Elizabeth Bennet—this bewitching young woman from the middle of nowhere who has unknowingly found a place deep inside of my heart yet has purposely placed her own heart outside of my reach.

  Your arrogance, your conceit. Elizabeth’s haunting words followed him down the hall. What gentleman of his stature would not hold himself above the likes of the folks of Meryton? I am Fitzwilliam Darcy. I own half of Derbyshire. I am a man of considerable consequence. How dare they expect to engage me in trivial conversations? Then again, Bingley’s amiability extended to all his Hertfordshire acquaintances. He was by no means inconsequential owing to his inheritance of one hundred thousand pounds. His fortune having been earned in trade must certainly factor into his propensity to consider those who are beneath him with amiability. The same went for his cousin Richard. Yes, he is the son of an earl—but a second son. One would not expect his older brother to display such unaffected cordiality when in the company of lesser people.

  Your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. As painful as it had been to hear those words, he would be lying to himself were he to doubt their veracity. In his behaviour towards Bingley when separating him from Miss Bennet, self-preservation had been at the heart of the matter. Certainly he believed Bingley deserved better than to be trapped in an unequal alliance by a scheming mamma, but to deny he had not acted to distance himself from Elizabeth was pointless.

  The truth is I have been a selfish man all my life. Elizabeth is the only person who gave voice to the truth. What he had once considered a matter of pride, he now considered with shame. His selfishness was demonstrated time and again, if not in principle, then certainly in practice. He had been given good principles but was left to follow them in pride and conceit. As a child, he had been taught what was right, but he had not been taught to correct his temper. The heir to Pemberley, his beloved parents had allowed, encouraged, almost taught him to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond his own family circle, and to think meanly of the sense and worth of all the rest of the world.

  A harsh and bitter rejection of his proposal of marriage from the only woman he ever loved had forced him to think through his long held tenets—how they had formed his opinions of himself as well as his opinions of others and had left him wanting.

  I told Elizabeth that I would undo the damage between her sister and Bingley as soon as I returned to town. Yet what measures have I undertaken? I have been in his company several times. I said nothing—nothing about Miss Bennet and how I may have been mistaken about her regard and certainly nothing of having made a fool of myself with Elizabeth. Darcy rang the bell to summon his butler. The time had come to make good on his promise. It was too late for him, but perhaps it was not too late for Bingley.

  His admission might very well render irreparable harm to their friendship.

  I shall take my chances.

  Chapter 10

  “Pray, Lizzy, what do you suppose Mr. Bingley choosing this time of the year to return to Hertfordshire signifies?”

  Elizabeth and Jane walked along the serpentine path leading to the perimeter of their father’s estate of Longbourn much as they had done every day since returning from London. A week had passed whilst they were in town with nary a sign of Bingley. Elizabeth had no one to blame but herself. She had taken caution to say nothing of having seen Mr. Darcy in Kent for fear of raising her sister’s expectations of a possible reconciliation with Bingley. The more time went by without Bingley’s making a call, the happier Elizabeth was for having exercised such restraint.

  Still, every day had brought the same questions and recriminations to bear. Oh, why had she rejected Mr. Darcy with such venom when he had all but promised to set things right between Jane and Bingley?

  But now it seemed everything had changed. All of Meryton was humming with the news of Mr. Bingley’s return, especially Mrs. Bennet, who had gone from belittling the gentleman, proclaiming him unworthy of Jane’s affections, to just about planning a wedding at Netherfield. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the thought of the absurdity of her mother’s about face. As for Jane, she could say she was quite prepared to meet Mr. Bingley as an indifferent stranger all she wanted. Elizabeth knew better.

  “Jane, I wager Mr. Bingley is entitled to visit his own home from time to time without giving an explanation to his neighbours, especially after such a lengthy absence, but given he is a single gentleman whose acquaintances are always increasing, and as this is the start of the London Season, I can think of but one thing capable of bringing him here.”

  Ah, the London Season. That is precisely the reason Elizabeth felt secure in the knowledge that Bingley would not be joined by his friend Mr. Darcy. She was confident the haughty gentleman would relish the prospect of such gaiety amongst those whom he considered his equals. If Mr. Darcy had spoken to Bingley on Jane’s behalf after all, surely it had no bearing on his desire to return—not after the scorn and confusion that had marked their last meeting.

  “Oh, Lizzy, let us not start matchmaking. I assure you that I am completely over Mr. Bingley.”

  “If you insist, dear Jane.”

  “Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak!”

  “My sentiments and any perception of weakness are unrelated, Jane. I assure you. One’s heart wants what it wants.”

  Jane placed her hand upon Elizabeth’s arm. “Do you suppose he will be accompanied by a large party? Perhaps Mr. Darcy and his sister will join him.”

  “I rather doubt it, especially as Mr. Wickham remains in the environs. I believe this is the last place Mr. Darcy would ever bring his sister.”

  A puzzled expression replaced her sister’s serene countenance. “Whatever do you mean? What has Mr. Wickham’s presence in Meryton to do with Miss Darcy?”

  Elizabeth, now faced with the possibility of sharing a confidence with Jane, regretted bringing up the gentleman’s name. To her relief, a week had passed, and she had managed to avoid seeing him. “Never mind, Jane. I believe I have said too much already.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, you must not leave me in suspense. What is it you are trying hard not to tell me about Mr. Wickham and Miss Darcy?”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together. Did she dare to confide in her dearest sister? “Well, Jane, an unpleasant story underlies the relationship between Mr. Wickham and Miss Darcy, but it was told to me in confidence.”

  “What would be the harm in telling me? I shall not speak of it beyond our immediate circle of two, and I can tell something has been weighing upon you. You have not spoken
a kind word about Mr. Wickham since our return, and did I not hear you say Miss King is fortunate in having escaped his regard?”

  “You are correct, Jane. This matter has weighed heavily on my mind. However, were I to confide in you, then you must promise not to repeat a word of it to another. Even more, you must promise not to think less of me for speaking as warmly of Mr. Wickham as I have been known to do.”

  “Of course, Lizzy, I would never think poorly of you. Pray tell me what you learnt about Mr. Wickham that has so poisoned you against him?”

  Given how much a developing situation at home bore upon Elizabeth’s mind—the Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had spoken repeatedly with such unbridled enthusiasm over the past several days—Elizabeth pondered her options. Lydia, with or without supervision, in proximity to Mr. Wickham once the regiment embarked to Brighton was a prospect she did not dare entertain. Though the matter had been under frequent discussion between her parents, Elizabeth suspected her father had little intention of yielding—declaring Colonel Forster’s young wife not up to the task of supervising Lydia when an encampment of soldiers presented such temptation. On the other hand, his answers were at the same time so vague and equivocal that her mother, though often disheartened, had never yet despaired of accomplishing her mission to persuade him to relent.

  Between Mamma’s constant nagging and Lydia’s sullen bickering, how long will Papa’s resolve last?

  Perhaps if Jane fully understood Elizabeth’s dilemma, she might be an ally in buttressing her father’s resolve. At last, with the eagerness of someone excited to find someone with whom they might share their burden of silence, Elizabeth told Jane all Miss Anne de Bourgh had related as regarded Mr. Wickham and young Georgiana Darcy.