Page 21 of Elizabeth is not a Bennet
The Library
Longbourn
That Evening
“You will leave two days hence with Colonel Fitzwilliam as your escort,” Mr. Bennet informed his niece and second daughter.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Mary asked in surprise.
“Yes,” Bennet said. “Mr. Darcy will join you later, but not immediately. We do not want it known that Darcy is involved with your flight, after all. Colonel Fitzwilliam is on leave from his military duties and will return to Brighton soon. No one will be able to guess your place of refuge with him as your escort.”
“Do you really think Lizzy is in so much danger?” Mary asked, her voice trembling.
“A man tried to murder her,” Bennet stated. “I will take no chances on her safety.”
Elizabeth, feeling the itching skin under her bandage, could only be grateful.
/
Longbourn
Two Days Later
The two sets of matched grays harnessed to the Darcy carriage stamped and blew clouds in the frigid early dawn. The butler and two manservants bustled back and forth between doorstep and carriage, tying trunks to the back of the carriage.
Elizabeth and Mary huddled together on the doorstep until the servants had finished their tasks, with Mr. Bennet nearby speaking quietly to Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Only the latter would accompany them, but Mr. Darcy had ridden over with his cousin in the gray pre-dawn to see Richard and the ladies off. They would be setting out in but a few minutes, before the household roused for the day. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters had bid Elizabeth and Mary farewell the previous night, and now the group would slip away before Mr. Collins rose. Mr. Bennet would handle whatever explanations were required once the girls were well underway.
Elizabeth glanced briefly at Mary, waiting patiently beside her with mittened hands tucked into a warm muff. Mary had accepted with placid equanimity Elizabeth’s murmured promise to inform her of their destination once they were on the road and far from Longbourn. Should any of the household rise early and wish to know their goal, Mary’s constitutional discomfort with lying might well lead to awkward questions. Not that Elizabeth was entirely at ease with the deception herself, but given the circumstances, it seemed the wisest course of action. After all, did not even Rahab lie to hide the spies in the Biblical account? And the midwives to save the Hebrew babies from Pharaoh’s cruelty? Elizabeth herself had done no harm to those who sought her life, and she thought that, in this case, providing false information was justified.
She certainly felt no compunction at lying to Mr. Collins, nor in whisking Mary away from his continued and buffoonish attentions. It was plain that he had decided on Mary as his future wife, and it was obvious that he had no idea how unwelcome his advances were. Even preparing to travel to an unknown destination – having only been told to pack warm clothes – Mary’s face was bright with relief at the prospect of escaping her unwanted suitor.
“At least the rain and wind have stopped,” Mary murmured.
Elizabeth made a noise of agreement, looking down the gravel drive to the lane. The weather the previous day had been inauspicious for traveling, cutting gusts with spates of icy rain, pewter clouds seething low and heavy in the skies all day. Elizabeth hoped that the road would not be too muddy, but at least the wind had died and the heavens cleared, leaving the promise of a beautiful day.
Movement nearer at hand caught her eye; the group of men was breaking up and drifting towards them. She shifted to smile wanly at Mr. Darcy as he approached.
“Until we meet again, Miss Stowe, Miss Mary,” the master of Pemberley said gravely.
“Until then, sir,” Elizabeth replied, her face rosy in the glow of the morning dawn.
He helped her into the carriage, being careful not to jostle her arm, and she took her place on the forward facing seat. A moment later, Mary stepped in with the help of Mr. Darcy and took her seat next to Elizabeth. Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke softly to Darcy for another minute, and then he entered the carriage and sat down across from the ladies, and the door was closed from the outside. Within seconds, the horses were in motion, and Elizabeth turned to look out the window as Longbourn faded into the distance. She had left Longbourn before, of course, but never with such uncertainty about her future. She had survived a murder attempt, and was being courted by Mr. Darcy, and apparently was heiress to an estate in Scotland. It was a mammoth series of changes in a short amount of time.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Mary said as the carriage began trundling towards the Great North Road. “May I ask you a perhaps indelicate question?”
Elizabeth, shaken from her reverie, turned a startled look on her sister.
“Of course,” the colonel replied calmly, “though I cannot promise to answer.”
“Is it true that Mr. Darcy is engaged to Miss de Bourgh of Rosings?” Mary asked.
To Elizabeth’s profound relief, the colonel immediately snorted and shook his head. “No, of course not. Where did you hear of that?”
“From our cousin, Mr. Collins. He informed us that Mr. Darcy is engaged to his cousin, Miss de Bourgh, the heiress of Rosings.”
“I am confident that he spoke what he believes to be truth, since my aunt, Lady Catherine, has insisted for decades that Darcy and my Cousin Anne were engaged in their cradles. That is, in itself, entirely absurd, of course, as Anne is four years younger than Darcy. But you have not had the honor of meeting my aunt yet! She is imperious, uncivil, and expects all those around her to fall in with her demands, no matter how ludicrous. Moreover, she will not listen to those who argue with her. There were never any papers signed, and Darcy has never agreed to marry his cousin, but that does not prevent Lady Catherine from informing the world that her daughter and the master of Pemberley will soon be united in marriage.”
“She sounds exhausting,” Mary said and then added with surprising cheekiness, “almost as exhausting as her parson.”
The colonel looked startled at these words and then laughed. “She is very tiresome, and regrettably, she tends to choose underlings who will readily agree with her exalted views of her own position in the world.”
“Like our cousin?” Mary suggested.
“Exactly. I could have provided you an accurate description of his character without ever meeting him. Lady Catherine always selects minions who worship the very ground she walks on.”
“Mr. Collins is, at least, not vicious,” Elizabeth observed.
“No, indeed, he is not,” the colonel agreed. “He is probably no worse than many a clergyman who benefits from keeping in the good graces of his patron or patroness. ”
The carriage swayed around a turn, and Mary looked at her sister and said, “Now, can you tell me where we are going?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and nodded. “We are traveling to Pemberley, Mr. Darcy’s estate in Derbyshire.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. Not London, obviously.”
“But Colonel Fitzwilliam, will this not be a great inconvenience to you? I thought that you needed to return to your military duties soon.”
“Ah, but Miss Bennet, ‘soon’ is such a flexible term, is it not?” Richard Fitzwilliam replied with a smile. “I have three more weeks of leave before I must go back, and I will enjoy that time at Pemberley, especially as my young cousin, Georgiana Darcy, is there. Her brother and I share guardianship over Miss Darcy, and I have not seen her in too long.”
Mary relaxed and said, “I am glad. Both Elizabeth and I are most grateful for your escort away from Longbourn. Will you tell us what Miss Darcy is like?”
“She is young, not yet sixteen, and a great musician. She is quite shy and does not have many friends, which is regrettable... ”
The conversation continued apace, and Elizabeth was both surprised and thankful when Mary, usually rather quiet, carried much of the discussion with the Colonel, allowing Elizabeth to reflect on the last weeks. So much had changed in such a short time, and in spite of the necessity of leaving Longbourn, she felt somewhat sad and uneasy.
At least she had Mary with her, and the colonel, though a new acquaintance, was a reassuring presence.
Part of her anxiety related to Mr. Darcy. It was obvious that he was attracted to her, and she confessed to herself that she found him marvelous – handsome, kind, sympathetic, and intelligent. But was there actual hope of a marriage between herself, the orphaned Miss Stowe, with the wealthy master of Pemberley? She was an heiress in her own right, of course, but she was not a member of the haut ton and had never had a Season.
She shook her head to clear it. She was not the sort of woman who generally worried about the future, and there was no reason to do so now. The future would come as it did, and whatever happened, she had the love of family and confidence in the oversight of the Lord Almighty.
/
Breakfast Parlor
Longbourn
“But where has Miss Mary gone to?” Mr. Collins said indignantly.
“We do not know,” Jane explained calmly and took a bite of eggs.
He looked wildly at the two youngest Misses Bennet and demanded, “How can you not know? I was planning to marry your sister, and now you tell me that you do not even know where Cousin Mary is?”
Lydia opened her mouth indignantly and then closed it. Jane was giving her an unusually stern glance, which warned her to be silent.
“Mr. Collins,” Jane said kindly, “I apologize for not sharing this information with you before, but it was a delicate situation, you see…”
She proceeded to explain that Elizabeth was an heiress, and nearly murdered, and that Captain Denny had been arrested for shooting her, and that there were concerns for her safety, and thus Elizabeth and Mary had left this morning, apparently for London, to hide until the situation was safer .
Mr. Collins’s expression grew more and more confounded during her discourse, and at the end, he cried out, “This seems entirely absurd, Cousin Jane! An evil stepmother? An unexpected inheritance? How ridiculous!”
Jane cast another warning look at Lydia and said, “I agree that it sounds more like a fairy tale than reality, but she was shot, as both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley will attest. They were walking with us outside when the attack occurred.”
“Indeed,” Lydia cried out, “Mr. Darcy carried Lizzy inside and placed her in the parlor, and our cousin was bleeding from the shoulder. It would be romantic if it were not so dreadful!”
Mr. Collins looked thunderstruck, and then horrified. “My dear cousin, surely you do not mean that ... you must know that Mr. Darcy is engaged to his cousin, the magnificent Anne de Bourgh! It was quite … oh, if I had only known, I would have warned Miss Stowe not to reach so high above her station in pursuing a gentleman!”
“Oh la, Mr. Collins!” Lydia cried out, unable to restrain herself any longer, “Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth? He is so quiet and reserved, and she is so lively! ”
“Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were merely enjoying a walk with me and Mr. Bingley,” Jane said coolly. “It was a very pleasant day.”
“Until Elizabeth was shot,” Kitty said, and her voice trembled.