Reunited at Rosings (Sweet Standalone Pride and Prejudice Variations #5)

Chapter 2

December 1, 1812

“This is a wonderful room. I do so like how you have decorated it, Jane. It is so tastefully elegant, so comfortable.” Elizabeth Bennet looked around the room, now her sister’s drawing room, where she entertained friends and callers.

“Thank you, Lizzy. I was uncertain about the curtain colour at first. But I think it is just the right amount of blue, do not you think?” Jane asked.

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “To be sure. You have done well setting up house here at Netherfield. I do not think there is a more blessed nor besotted husband in all of England.”

As if on cue, Mr Bingley entered the room and walked straight to his bride. He bent and kissed her on the cheek before acknowledging Elizabeth. “How do you do?”

“I am very well. Thank you, Mr Bingley.” Her heart warmed toward her brother-in-law every time they were around each other. That was no uncommon occasion, since Netherfield was so near Longbourn. Indeed, Elizabeth often availed herself of her sister’s hospitality, enjoying a long walk almost every day to see her sister and her new husband. Thankfully, Mr Bingley did not seem to mind, despite her father’s arguments that he would grow resentful of Elizabeth’s constant visits.

Mr Bingley smiled and came around the settee where Jane was sitting. He sank down beside her, holding her hand as tenderly as if she were a priceless sculpture. “My lady wife is a jewel, is she not?”

“Charles —” Jane started. Elizabeth broke in before she could finish her gentle scold.

“Oh, I quite agree, Mr Bingley. I could speak of my sister’s charms and fine attributes all the day long.” Elizabeth did so like to tease her every once in a while. Her eldest sister was only deserving of the praise, after all. Jane now exhibited a pretty blush that stood out on the apples of her cheeks, only improving her rare beauty.

“Well, I will leave you two to your visit. I have business with one of the tenants.” He kissed his wife’s hand and whispered something to her before departing.

“He is too free with his compliments sometimes,” Jane said, still embarrassed to be the centre of attention, even in front of her younger sister.

Elizabeth smiled despite her inner pain. She was happy for Jane and Mr Bingley, of course. She would never begrudge them their happiness. But she still struggled with her disappointment that things had not worked out for her and Mr Darcy. Had she been wrong all this time?

“He is the model of the perfect husband then, for a man should have no lack of compliments for his wife.” Elizabeth said.

“Charles is wonderful. And I did not think I could be any happier than I was the day he came to propose. I know this is only a season. The flames of desire will soon fade. But there is nothing to be feared in that, for our love will only grow deeper and more mature as time goes on.” Jane folded her hands demurely in her lap and looked out the window. Elizabeth followed her gaze to where Mr Bingley was riding out across the green toward one of the tenant farms. Jane was besotted as well, even if she displayed her feelings more quietly.

“There, I cannot quite agree with you,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “I have never seen a couple more in love than the two of you. Nor can I imagine such emotion ever fading.” She said the last with a tinge of sadness. Once, she had thought that she might find a similarly incandescent match with Mr Darcy. But he had not come for her as she had hoped. Indeed, now that she was related to Mr Wickham through marriage, she doubted she would ever see him again.

“Well, I suppose you shall be lonely without your poor spinster of a sister when I am gone,” Elizabeth said. She would do better to change the subject quickly, before Jane noticed her low mood.

“I will miss you terribly while you are away. When will you leave for Kent?”

“Tomorrow. My trunks are all packed and Papa has said he will send me in the carriage first thing in the morning.” Elizabeth sighed heavily, but quickly tried to cover up her sadness. The visit, at least, was nothing to be dreaded. Her cousin, Mr Collins, and his saint of a wife were expecting their first child. Charlotte had written to ask a favour of Elizabeth, to come and stay with her for the birth and the month following while she settled into motherhood. Elizabeth had not hesitated in writing back that it was not a chore in the slightest and that she would be delighted to come. A piece of her wondered if she might run into Mr Darcy while she was helping Charlotte through her confinement. Was it not possible that he might visit his aunt once again? But if he had chosen to avoid her, it would be better if they did not meet. Elizabeth hardly knew whether she ought to hope for or fear such a meeting.

“Mrs Collins will be glad to have you stay, and you will be such a help and comfort to her while she traverses this new stage of her life.” Jane, ever encouraging, would make the best of Elizabeth’s absence. Not that she would really notice, Elizabeth was sure. Elizabeth was certain that Mr Bingley would be glad of some quality time alone with his wife.

“I shall do my best to be helpful to her,” Elizabeth replied. “As I hope to be helpful to you in the same way soon.”

Jane blushed all the more before she changed the subject. “Surely you want to settle down in a home of your own? You cannot want to be constantly travelling the country only to see to your sisters and friends?”

A long pause ensued, and Elizabeth’s face fell. She stared into the bottom of her empty teacup and then out the window, trying to keep control over her emotions.

Jane leaned over and grasped her free hand, staring at her with a knowing glint in her eyes. Elizabeth tried to look away, tried to smile, but her lips quivered as the tears threatened to give her away completely. Jane kept a firm but gentle hold of her hand. “Lizzy, dear, won’t you confide in me? I know things are not the same, but surely you still trust me to keep your thoughts and feelings private, if you so wish it?”

Elizabeth nodded, set down her teacup, and covered Jane’s hand with both of hers. “Of course, dear heart. I could never think you would betray me. It is not that —” she said haltingly. She let out a sigh and searched for the right words.

Jane interrupted her before she spoke. “You do not have to tell me anything. I have only noticed how sad you have been lately, and I wonder at the cause. Is there nothing I can do to lift your spirits?” When Elizabeth did not answer, she leaned back, releasing her hands. “Do you still worry about Lydia’s wellbeing?”

Elizabeth’s heart flooded with guilt at how selfish she had been of late. Of course, they had all worried over Lydia’s wellbeing since her patched-up marriage to Mr Wickham. But it was not her sister’s marriage that had her so out of sorts. It was for her own heart that she grieved.

“I had not wanted to worry anyone. But I can see now that I cannot hide anything from your perceptive gaze.” She attempted a laugh, though the attempt was not entirely successful. “Has it been that noticeable? I did not want to draw attention away from you during this happy time.”

“And I am grateful for all the work you have done to make everything as possible for Mr Bingley and I. All the countless hours you spent helping me with my trousseau — I can never thank you enough, sister.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“But I do not want you to feel that you cannot express your true feelings. You do not have to feign joy for my sake.” She leaned forward and refilled Elizabeth’s teacup, handing it to her. Elizabeth took it gratefully. There was no problem that a good cup of tea could not solve. Or so their aunt always said. “I assure you, no one else has noticed. I only noticed because we are so close.”

Elizabeth wished their closeness could continue, but perhaps that was part of her grieving. She had to step back and allow their relationship to change. It was bound to happen when one of them married. Such was the way of things.

Elizabeth took a sip of tea to collect her thoughts, then rested the cup and saucer on her knees and looked out at the sun-washed landscape while she opened up to her sister. “It is not Lydia that still worries me.”

“Then what?” Jane gently pressed.

“This may come as a shock to you, Jane. But I have held it inside for far too long.” She gulped, reluctant to let out the secret she had kept in one form or another since Mr Darcy had first proposed marriage to her at Hunsford parsonage. “I am in love with Mr Darcy.”

Even Jane — demure, unassuming, reticent Jane — could not contain her surprise. “Mr Darcy?” she asked in alarm. “My husband’s Mr Darcy? But I thought you could not stand the sight of him, if you will forgive my saying so.”

“I have been so blind. I know that I have called him a proud, arrogant man with no proper feeling. But I was wrong. And I thought —” Elizabeth swallowed hard against the lump that was forming at the back of her throat. “I thought he would speak again after he saved Lydia. He made Mr Wickham marry her, Jane. Lydia let it slip that Mr Darcy was the one who discovered them in London. He was the one who paid off Wickham’s debts and even provided the money to be settled on Lydia.”

Jane leaned forward, seeming as awestruck at the news as Mr Bennet had been when she had finally told him. “You are certain it was Mr Darcy?”

“Beyond a doubt. You doubt he would do such a thing? Surely you have been in his company since your marriage and have seen firsthand what a fine gentleman he is?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, I have not had the pleasure. I believe he has been detained on business as of late, and that is why he could not call on us since the wedding.” Jane shook her head as if she still did not believe it to be possible.

“Our aunt Gardiner confirmed it in a letter that he was the one responsible for saving Lydia’s reputation.”

Jane thought for a moment. “I am in a state of shock. But I cannot think of why he would do this, especially with the strained relationship he shares with Mr Wickham. Unless, perhaps, he was acting out of love for you.” She studied Elizabeth’s face for a moment. “Has he not spoken of his feelings?”

“Yes. Once,” Elizabeth replied. “But I threw it back in his face. I told him I would never want to marry someone who had ruined your happiness.”

Jane looked alarmed. “My happiness?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It does not matter now, for he remedied that mistake as well.” She waved her sister off and paused for a moment before going on. “Perhaps his family persuaded him against it. Having met Lady Catherine, I am certain she would be furious if she learned he proposed to me. Either that, or he cannot bring himself to be tied to Mr Wickham through marriage.”

“That does not seem like something he would do. I must admit, I did not think of Mr Darcy past his closeness with Charles. He never ceases to tell me of his many virtues. And now I can believe them for myself, having heard what you yourself have told me this day.”

Elizabeth stood and began to pace. “Then why has he not returned? Why has he not at least written and declared his feelings?” She pressed a hand against the coolness of the windowpane. She did not want to break down in front of her sister. But she had remained silent about her feelings and struggles for so long, it felt like she was holding back a dam of emotions, and they were about to break out of their own volition. “It is more likely that he does not love me anymore.”

Jane quickly rose and joined her at the window. “Do not give up, dearest. I tried to cover up my feelings for Charles, to persuade myself that they were nothing. But it did not help. I loved him still and only wanted to mask the pain. Do not close yourself off to pain, Lizzy, for you inevitably cut yourself off from feeling any joy, as well.” Jane wrapped her arms around Elizabeth from behind, gazing out the window with her. A cold mist was creeping over the landscape, and what had been a light and airy view only a few minutes before was quickly being overtaken by the promise of a winter storm.

Elizabeth smiled weakly, gripping Jane’s forearm. “You are ever a ray of hope in a cloudy landscape, sister.”

Jane kissed her cheek and beckoned her back over to the sitting area and away from the chill window. But Elizabeth longed for the cold to overcome her. At least then she would feel in sync with the scenery of her inner world.

When their visit was concluded, Jane would not think of allowing her to walk home. She sent her off for Longbourn in her carriage. Rain poured down on the roof, and Elizabeth could not help but think of the hopelessness of her situation. It had been months since she had seen or heard from Mr Darcy. Despite Jane’s encouragement, Elizabeth could clearly see what must be done. From that moment on, for the good of her heart, she would resolve to forget Mr Darcy or that he had ever loved her.