Page 12 of Body and Soul (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #8)

Chapter Twelve

December 5, 1811 Longbourn Elizabeth

M ama snuck into the mistress’s chambers late after they hosted the Netherfield party for dinner. Elizabeth reclined on the settee, a cup of chocolate in her hands as she stared at the fire. Her mother was tall enough that her legs stretched out and touched the other end. The chocolate warmed her inside and out.

Heavens, how she ached! The colder the weather became, the worse she felt. How did Mama function when every joint, every limb, every finger—they all hurt! Groaning, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Feeling well, Mama? “ She opened her eyes to see her own face grinning cheekily.

“How do you do it?” Elizabeth groaned and sat up, patting the seat beside her. “Everything hurts!”

“Age has not been kind to me in that way. Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long do not seem to have the trouble I do.” Mama flopped down next to her, folding her legs underneath her and hiding them beneath her nightgown.

“What I would give to sit like that!” Elizabeth rolled her shoulders. “My preparations for this evening seem to have made me worse.”

“That often occurs in the winter,” Mama said pityingly. “I am sorry you are experiencing this aspect of being me.”

“And others as well. Oh, Mama, I am very sorry about how I have mirrored Papa’s treatment of you! It was very wrong.” She felt tears threatening. Setting aside her chocolate, she wrapped her arms around her mother’s smaller form. Such poor treatment would drive anyone to behave as Mrs. Bennet did. Elizabeth now realized their mother had hidden the worst from her and her sisters. Mr. Bennet often made little quips whenever he saw his wife, from remarking on her appearance in a way which seemed flattering… that is until one knew he hid insults behind them.

Mama sniffed and hugged her back. “I am glad someone understands now,” she murmured. “Now, we have happier things to discuss! Why, we have not had a moment to ourselves in so long.”

“Days,” Elizabeth agreed. “Often in the same room, but never alone. Goodness, your duties keep me busy!”

“Those responsibilities will make you well prepared for your own household.” Mama took her hand. “I wish to tell you something.”

Elizabeth listened aghast as her mother related her walk into Meryton, the encounter with Mr. Wickham, and her following conversation with Mr. Darcy.

“Is Mr. Darcy to be believed so easily?” she protested. “How can your opinion change so quickly? But how could we doubt it when he tells you of his sister’s trials?” She had seen nothing redeemable in the man!

“Yes, you have the right of it. Do not forget, Lizzy, that I am a married woman. There are things one can detect—subtle meanings—when one is no longer a maid. Mr. Wickham is not to be trusted. I will not have him in this house!” She softened her tone. “I have asked very little, and I have done all I could to behave in a way so as not to disgrace you. Please, trust me with this.”

“Very well.” She did not like the concession, but she recognized the fairness of her mother’s words.

Mama paused. “I have something more to say. Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy admires you.”

Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter. “Oh, Mama, you do know how to tease!“ she said, amused.

“I am not teasing, Lizzy.”

She turned. Mama regarded her with a serious stare. It looked so odd, seeing herself this way. “Why do you think he admires me?” she asked warily.

“He watches you very carefully. And that story about his poor sister! He would not have told that to just anyone. The information could damage Miss Darcy’s reputation—irreparably!”

“That might mean he sees me as a friend.” It could not be so. The gentleman had declared her tolerable, and not handsome enough to tempt him. Mama read her thoughts.

“I know what he said, dear child, but he clearly did not mean it. A man does not follow a lady’s progress around the room, gazing at her intently without cause. Nor does he seek her company and engage her in conversation…not unless he admires her.” She sighed. “I remember when your father and I were courting. Oh, how he stared! Always a quiet man he was, and it discomposed me! And then he asked for a dance and I knew. I knew he admired me, and since I liked him too, it made perfect sense to accept when he asked for a courtship.”

Elizabeth had never heard that story. She had long assumed that her mama had engineered a compromise, trapping her father into marriage.

“Oh, do not look so surprised.” Mama tut-tutted and swatted Elizabeth. “We were not always at odds. Once we were very much in love. At least I was.”

“Do you still love him?” She needed to know. Perhaps there was something else she could fix whilst trapped as her mother.

“I do. I suppose it makes his behavior toward me hurt all the more.” She sighed and shook her head. “I cannot understand him. I stopped trying to make him happy long ago.”

Heart aching, Elizabeth took her mother’s hand. “What would you have me do?” she asked gently.

Mama straightened. “I wish you to give Mr. Darcy a chance.”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “And how am I supposed to do that?” she asked. “I am you! And you are married! To my father!” Oh dear, this was a conundrum.

“You will have to trust me enough to allow him to court me in your place.” Mama said it matter-of-factly, as if it were nothing.

“We are nothing alike! He will fall in love with someone else!”

“If I were to wager, I would say he is already in love with you. I will do nothing that goes against your character. We can meet at night and I shall tell you everything I learned. Better yet, I will ensure when I speak with him you are there as a chaperone.” Mama grinned.

“You have considered everything.” In truth, Elizabeth felt impressed. Sighing, she said, “I do not know if I can trust him.”

“If you are still fixated on that situation with Mr. Wickham, I urge you to apply the same standard of judgment to both. One does not deserve all the censure whilst the other receives none.” Mama raised an eyebrow and waited for her to respond.

Elizabeth groaned. “I confess to some surprise, hearing that from you. Just two weeks ago, you lauded our red coats and declared that you once favored Colonel Millar.”

Mama chuckled. “And I have since seen the error of my ways. I am a silly woman, Elizabeth, but I am not completely devoid of sense. Anything that will threaten the happiness of my girls will not be permitted in my house.”

She tried once more to convince her mother to desist. “He is so proud and arrogant. Oh, Mama, must I allow this?”

“After the last few times in his company, I am inclined to like him. Do as I say—judge him by the same rule you use for Mr. Wickham. Allow for human error and the ability to correct wrongs. And if you decide you could like him…” she trailed off.

Sighing, Elizabeth nodded. “If I find I could like him, I will give you leave to befriend him. For now, maintain distance. It would not do for Mr. Darcy to fall in love with a married woman.”

Yawning, Mama stood. “I miss my bed,” she said regretfully, casting her gaze to the large, comfortable piece of furniture.

“It is definitely a benefit of being you,” Elizabeth confirmed. “I should say that such a great big bed is necessary, given your aches and pains.”

“Very true. I should hate to sleep in your bed whilst I am me. Other ladies do not seem to have the same trouble I have. It makes me wonder what is the matter with me! Your father is older, of course, so he has some excuse for his pains.” They laughed together, and Elizabeth again relished the closeness they now shared. And it had taken such an event to bring it about.

“Goodnight, Mama,” she said, kissing her mother’s cheek. Or her cheek. Which was it? Mama hugged her and crept off to bed, leaving Elizabeth to ponder the idea of marrying Mr. Darcy.

He was an arrogant man, full of himself, even bragging about his pride being in good regulation. After his insult, she had resolved to have nothing to do with the man, yet he appeared at Longbourn almost daily.

He doubtlessly wishes to prevent Bingley from proposing. She stopped the bitter thoughts from going forward and considered each visit since Mr. Bingley had returned to Netherfield Park. Mr. Darcy typically found her—or Mama, as it was—and spent the entire visit speaking only with her. He ignored Mr. Bingley and Jane, leaving them to their conversation. Surely, if he wished to separate them, he would attempt to insert himself into their discussion.

I shall have to watch tomorrow, Elizabeth resolved. She wanted to see if she agreed with her mother’s assessment. If Mr. Darcy watched her—or who he thought was Elizabeth—in the wayMama described, she would be shocked. She would also be compelled to revise her opinion of his behavior.

The next morning, Elizabeth rose and dressed for her walk. She knew Mama still walked, though she did not rise as early as her daughter liked. It mattered not. It was not only her body that needed exercise. Elizabeth’s mind needed it desperately. With everything strange happening in her life now, the walks were even more important. The activity helped her to weather this storm and aided her in being happy.

“Up early again, Mrs. Bennet?” Her father stepped out of his study. “Whatever you are up to, it will not work.”

“I do not know what you mean.” She tried to move past him, but he stepped in the way.

“Fanny, you are not yourself. Or you are yourself. I cannot tell. The woman I married is here and the strange changeling who possessed her body these last nineteen years has been banished. I know not what to make of it!” He reached for her hand, but stopped. “I cannot help but be suspicious.”

“Is it so difficult to believe I can change?” She asked it softly, hoping he would respond kindly.

“Yes,” he snapped. “One does not throw off almost twenty years of behavior in two weeks! Where are the hysterics? Where are the inappropriate comments and the demands? Why, I have scarcely heard from you in days! We see each other at meals, and you leave me undisturbed in my study. If you are attempting to get me to let down my guard, you will fail.”

Elizabeth bristled. “Whatever I choose to do with my day and in raising our girls is my choice. I believe you made it clear they were my responsibility.”

“Ah, there it is! Mr. Bingley’s almost defection worried you, did it? Tell me—who pointed out your behavior, and that of our girls, was likely to blame?”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” She threw her hands in the air. “I have, as you say, made no effort for years, and when I do, you have some objection! Why? Because our household is no longer a source of amusement? Stop hiding in your study and take an eager interest in your family!” She took in a deep breath. “More people besides Lizzy deserve your attention.”

He scoffed. “None of them are intelligent enough to warrant it. They take after their mother. And you have taken my Lizzy, too. She spends most of her time with you. I heard you both last night, visiting in the mistress’s chambers.”

Stung, she took another step back. “I believe I liked it better when you ignored me,” she said dismally. Turning, she walked briskly out the door and out into the chilly morning air.

Heavens, I forgot I am not my mama, she thought. Am I losing myself? Will Lizzy Bennet fade away and become Mrs. Bennet forever? The thought terrified her and pushed her to walk as quickly as she could. She climbed Oakham Mount, and though she breathed heavily, she made it. These last days of walking had strengthened her mother’s body so she could make the journey.

As she reached the top, her fatigue and her emotions overtook her. She stumbled to a boulder partially buried in the ground and collapsed upon it, weeping bitterly. Head bowed and shoulders hunched, she wept for her mother, her father, and herself. Oh, what a tangled web we weave if we practice to deceive, she thought. That was what she and Mama did. They lied to everyone every day, but they did not have any other choice.

“Madam, are you well?”

The voice startled her, and she whirled around. “Mr. Darcy!” she cried. “Oh, you startled me, sir.”

He did not smile. Indeed, his face held no expression. “Forgive me,” he said solemnly. “I confess I did not expect to find anyone here this early.”

She wiped at her eyes, leaving tear stains on her gloves. “I needed the air today,” she said quietly.

“May I escort you back to Longbourn?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You are very kind, but I am well. I shall just rest here and then return home in an hour.” Tears threatened again, and she buried her face in her hands. Blast my mother’s foreign emotions. She could not stop the tears now that they had started.

“I do not want my daughters to marry for anything but love!” she cried impulsively. “I could ask none of them to bear being so ill-used. Cruel, unfeeling man!” Her father. Oh, she loved him dearly, but she saw clearly now that he did not treat his wife as he ought. Her disclosures might be highly inappropriate, but mayhap they would do some good. Mr. Darcy would know that Mrs. Bennet was not a fortune hunting matchmaking mama.

“My sis—my Jane is a good girl. She and Lizzy have always said they would marry only for the deepest affection. I cannot blame them, not after witnessing their own parents’ discord.” She glanced up. Mr. Darcy stood quietly, gazing out over the fields.

“It is hardly my business, madam,” he said stiffly.

“I know. And I am very sorry to burden you this morning. Pray, forgive me.” She stood. “I hope you find happiness, Mr. Darcy.” She turned and walked away, leaving him alone on the hilltop, her plans to remain for an hour discarded. Whether her words and actions had aided or hindered Jane, she did not know.

Another thought came as she walked back home. He had listened. Not once had he interrupted or tried to diminish her pain with trite words. If he judged her for her sorrow, he had not revealed it. As Mr. Darcy had gazed across the field, she thought she saw something more in his expression. Understanding, she thought. He understood something of her sorrow.

It warmed her heart. When the Netherfield party called later, she had no doubt he would pretend that nothing had occurred. She would do likewise, of course.