When they returned to the house, Elizabeth yawned.
Mr. Darcy smiled at her as she did, and she smiled back at him.
Upon entering the house, Mrs. Bennet came up to them, and she said to Elizabeth, “I have heard the oddest rumors about you and Lord Rochester. That you fought him, that he means to adopt you, that—Lizzy, do tell me the truth. I can scarce imagine what you would have to do with a peer. But do tell me.”
At this question Elizabeth found the cheerfulness that she’d felt after her conversation with Papa returning. She smiled at Mrs. Bennet. “All will be clear. Perhaps very soon. I will ask Papa if he sees any reason for secrecy—” Then she turned to Robert. “Do you see any?”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes went wider at this clear confirmation that Elizabeth did in fact have something to do with a peer of the realm, or at least his young and single son, which was nearly as good.
“I hardly can guess at what purpose such secrecy might be put to,” Robert replied. “But as Mr. Bennet has more wisdom and cleverness than us both, I agree that we should apply to him upon the question first.”
Robert followed Elizabeth to the library where she found Papa with Bingley.
Bingley was saying, “The weather is too fine for anything indoors. Unless rain and mud threaten, we’ll set a great area of the lawn aside for bowls and shuttlecock. We’ll plan for a horse race. An archery contest for the ladies. While a great many of our neighbors are in town, I dare say there are enough persons who will gather, even with just two days’ notice. We must have an archery contest, Countess Marsten has made herself such a friend to Jane, and she convinced her to attend an archery club two or three mornings a week—whenever we do not have a ball that keeps us up particularly late. Jane has become quite good at hitting the target.”
“That is,” Mr. Bennet agreed, “generally agreed upon as the goal.”
Bingley laughed. “What do you say then—Lizzy, Hartley, hullo. I can depend upon you both attending.”
“I would not dream to miss such a gathering—Papa, should we to announce to Mrs. Bennet and Kitty and Lydia the details of my parentage?”
“I hardly see how it can be kept a secret given that everyone but them knows by now. Further, from a matter of policy I wish all of my friends to know about our present circumstances.” Papa rose from his seat. “Bingley, I’ll be as happy to sit about reading in your library as at home.”
“Excellent.” Bingley rubbed his hands. “And as it shall be chiefly an outdoor thing—long tables set up outside to eat upon, and everything, I dare say that Mrs. North shall be less annoyed at the short notice than she would be otherwise—you are going to tell Mrs. Bennet about Lizzy? I do wish to see this.”
In the drawing room Mrs. Bennet sat talking to Jane, and Elizabeth heard her name mentioned by Mrs. Bennet as she entered the room. Lydia and Kitty were laughing together as they worked on refashioning a bonnet. Mr. Darcy stood in a corner studying a book he had borrowed from Mr. Bennet’s library, but as he heard her enter, he looked up and then put the book aside while smiling at Elizabeth.
Mrs. Hill was setting out the tea things, and upon her seeing Elizabeth, she said to Elizabeth, “Such a surprise, Miss Elizabeth, to see you returned so soon. I would dearly like to know what this fuss has been about.”
“Then you must stay for a minute,” Papa said to the housekeeper. “Do sit down, Mrs. Hill—My dears, I must have your attention for a few minutes. You must have some curiosity about why our Elizabeth has returned so suddenly from her visit to Mary. And with such a personage as Lord Hartley with her. I had not intended to reveal this before Elizabeth’s reached her twenty-first birthday, but now any secrecy is utterly useless. Elizabeth is in fact the legitimate daughter of the Earl of Rochester, and that wife of his who famously disappeared fifteen years ago. When we had both been young, Lady Rochester was a dear friend of mine, and as she feared that her husband, incorrectly believing Elizabeth to not be his own child, would kill the girl, she begged me as she died to care for her. I have always done my best to protect Elizabeth, but I did not know that Lady Catherine was closely connected to Lord Rochester. She identified Elizabeth to him, and after a confrontation between them last night, Elizabeth returned to us, to her home. I do not know if we shall have any additional difficulties on account of Lord Rochester, but I have informed everyone in the village to be alert for the possibility of strangers coming about who wish to do Elizabeth harm.”
Mrs. Bennet stared at her husband in blank astonishment. As did Kitty.
Lydia exclaimed, “La, no! That would make her Lady Elizabeth. No.”
“That shall be Lady Lizzy to you,” Elizabeth said.
“La, it cannot be!” But then Lydia laughed. “Oh, you both do look much alike. The coloring is wholly the same.” And to Mr. Darcy she said, “I see why you shall not need to fight him. Such a joke! Though I still would dearly love to watch a duel.”
Kitty was equally surprised, but from her father’s manner she could see that he did not jest, at least not upon the chief point that Elizabeth was in fact the daughter of an earl.
Mrs. Bennet was struck dumb. She looked between Elizabeth and Robert with a sort of horror. It was clear that her eyes also traced the similarity, but being perhaps less quick than Lydia, or at least less apt to jump to conclusions upon matters other than if a gentleman was a likely suitor for one of her girls, she studied them for longer.
At a certain point Mrs. Bennet asked Papa, who clearly enjoyed the astonishment that his announcement had made, “No, no. The daughter of an earl? But do you mean to say he does not acknowledge her?”
“He has,” Mr. Bennet replied cheerfully. “But that is not a matter of importance, as I’ve more than enough proof of Elizabeth’s birth for her to gain her mother’s fortune, which is secured to her by the settlement articles. It will be at least forty thousand, and very likely more.”
“Forty thousand!” Mrs. Bennet sat back down with a horrified expression. She stared at Elizabeth as though she were a fearsome wolf. It was impossible for Elizabeth to know what to say to her.
Bingley cheerfully toasted Elizabeth, while Jane sat next to Mrs. Bennet and smilingly said that this was a very great discovery.
For the next hour there was a great deal of conversation, and questions from Kitty and Lydia as to what Elizabeth intended to do with such a fortune. Kitty seemed decidedly unhappy by Elizabeth suddenly becoming greatly her superior in consequence, while Lydia said several times that it was an uncommonly good joke that Elizabeth was an heiress.
Whenever Elizabeth specified that at present she had no access to the income, Robert always repeated his promise to give her whatever she might need, and the result of this was a promise for them all to have a long shopping trip in London before the season ended.
Soon though Elizabeth found herself more and more drowsy. After the third time in five minutes that she yawned, Darcy suggested that the party break up so that she might retire to rest. After some further discussion the decision was made that Darcy and Robert would spend the night at Netherfield and then return the following morning.
Elizabeth followed them out to the carriage. She felt a sort of melancholy at seeing Darcy leave. She would miss him, even if he was only three miles away.
He looked at her with those deep serious eyes. Eyes that had always liked to look upon her.
“Might I inquire,” Elizabeth said, attempting to keep her tone light, but failing, “what you plan over the next week? Do you mean to return to Rosings to finish your stay with Lady Catherine.”
“I...I hardly know. No, no. I do not mean to. I doubt very much that I would be welcome with her for at least a two-month. No, I thought to stay here. For so long as...well at present I shall remain.”
“I am glad!” Elizabeth then blushed, bobbed a curtsey, and she hurried back into the house.
When she went up to her small room—much smaller than even the one in the Hunsford parsonage that Mary had given her—Mrs. Bennet followed her.
“Lord! Lord! I did not know, I swear, I had no idea. I never had any notion that you were anything. I would have acted very differently. Heavens, you must believe me. I would have. It is Mr. Bennet’s fault, he never told me.”
Elizabeth looked at the anxious woman. Despite being many years past forty, she was still a handsome woman. Wheat colored hair, smooth skin, fashionable dress, a neat lace cap. Mrs. Bennet nervously worked her hands together.
“Mr. Bennet feared for my safety, as was right.”
“He could have just told me something! I swear, I would have treated you differently.”
There was an anger in Elizabeth.
It sat in the back of her mind. It wished to cut Mrs. Bennet harshly. It was a thing that was justified. She should never have been treated by Mrs. Bennet in the way that she did. Her rights had been violated.
The tables were now turned, and Mrs. Bennet was smaller than she was.
“Lady Elizabeth, you must wish to move to Jane’s old room. I shall tell the servants—”
“No.” Elizabeth took in a deep breath. “I would not at present change anything about my home.”
Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands. “But of course you cannot mean that. I shall have it switched. You must wish to have the best room. Of course you do.”
“Mrs. Bennet. Our minds are in many ways dissimilar. You know this. I think that is part of why...why we decided to find a way to live together that required nothing of friendship. I beg you to believe that I am sincere when I say that I do not wish to have my room changed at present, and that if I did wish it, I would ask for the change.”
“Why did you never stop me? Why did you let...Mr. Bennet would have supported you. I always knew that he would support you in any matter where you had a good reason to your side. Now I know why.”
“Mrs. Bennet, you should have dealt more kindly with an orphaned girl under your care. My parentage does not change that your behavior was often very wrong. I believed always that I deserved some mistreatment. I thought I was in fact illegitimate. But I never did. I would not have deserved anything of the sort, even if I was what I thought I was.”
“I truly never would have if I’d known that you would be rich. I swear.”
Elizabeth sighed. It was not her place to make Mrs. Bennet see that the form of her apology was nearly half reprehensible as the behavior that had led to it.
“Do not worry. I cannot love you as I love your husband. He has been my father, while you have never been a mother to me. However, you would not have ever treated a child with the violence that man used. You should have been kinder, but I do not wish to resent you. Not anymore. Let us be friends.”
Elizabeth stretched out her hand.
Mrs. Bennet took it and shook it, with that nervousness still very much in her manner. “Oh, and you are so beautiful! You really look like an earl’s daughter. Though you must purchase more lace when you have possession of your fortune. I always knew that you were very beautiful.”
“My dear Mrs. Bennet, I promise that I shall buy a great quantity of Brussels lace, and Chantilly lace, and Mechlin lace, and I shall wear it all about the house at breakfast for your sake.”
Mrs. Bennet tittered. “You do joke, Lady Elizabeth. But you know that one must not dress in such finery for breakfast even if the daughter of an earl.”
With a smile Elizabeth dismissed her and turned into bed.
As she lay on the familiar and comfortable old bed, Elizabeth had a strong sense of satisfaction with herself. She was happy she had ignored her angry impulses. She had treated Mrs. Bennet kindly. It was right for her to do so both because she was Mr. Bennet’s wife, and he did look at her with a sort of fondness, though not the sort of love which Elizabeth hoped to have for her partner in life. And Mrs. Bennet was by no means so awful as Lord Rochester.
Kindness was generally, perhaps not always, better than anger or cruelty.
Elizabeth’s mind drifted to Mr. Darcy, and the way that his eyes looked at her when he said that he wished he could always have her near him.
She woke once from a vivid dream where Lord Rochester had tried to beat her, but she had shot him, and as he lay there dead, or nearly so, with blood everywhere, she incoherently debated at great length with Mr. Darcy about whether she ought to be happy or sad about this.