Page 37 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

It was not difficult to guess at his frustration, but I had no concern for his feelings. With a final glance towards the scene, I turned and made my way downstairs to the ballroom .

The four Bennet girls were still standing together, joined now by Miss Lucas and her younger sister, Miss Maria. I approached and greeted them all.

“Where is Lizzy?” Miss Lucas asked, looking towards Miss Bennet.

“You have not heard from her either?” Miss Bennet asked, her brows furrowing in worry. “She was summoned to London last Monday, but even with the rain, we should have heard something from her by now.”

Miss Lydia cast a glance in my direction, and I inclined my head. We had agreed not to speak of what she had overheard from her parents to her sisters—at least not immediately—but I did have news to impart.

“The coachman did not take her to London,” Miss Lydia said, keeping her voice low that none might overhear.

“You must all promise not to breathe a word of this, particularly not to our mothers. Mama would deny it outright, and Maria, I fear your mother might spread it about were she to learn of it.”

Miss Lucas shot her sister a sharp look, the warning in her eyes plain to see. “Of course, we shall not speak of it. But, Lydia, what has happened?” She then turned her gaze upon me. “Mr. Darcy, what do you know of the matter?”

“Miss Bingley wanted Lizzy out of the way,” Lydia said bluntly, “because she thought that, without her here, she could manipulate Mr. Darcy into marrying her.”

She glanced around before continuing in a more subdued voice than I think she had ever used before.

“Our coachman took Lizzy as far north as Letchworth, accompanied by a hired maid and a manservant. He returned home with the carriage the next day. He told me the manservant hardly spoke a word and refused to say where Lizzy was headed. But those were the orders he had been given, so he did not question them. Still,” she added, her voice lowering further, “he seemed glad to share what little he knew with me—he is worried about her too since the whole situation seemed rather odd.”

“I have confirmed that she did not go to the Gardiners,” I replied before telling them about the missive I received the previous day from the man I had sent in search of her.

When I was finished, I looked at the expression on all of their faces, a mixture of sadness and frustration, before I continued.

“Tomorrow, I am to travel north to see if I might locate precisely where she has been taken. Given that it was Mr. and Mrs. Bennet who sent her away, I am uncertain if I will bring her back here. Just before she left, I proposed marriage, and she accepted me. If she is in Scotland, then the matter can be settled easily enough. Regardless, when I find her, I will have her write to you, Miss Lucas, and you can share her news with her sisters. I would not be surprised if her parents have a plan to keep her sisters from receiving any correspondence from her.”

Miss Lucas said nothing, merely nodded at me, whilst the rest, all except Miss Lydia, still looked at me in surprise.

“What about your engagement to Miss Bingley?” Miss Bennet asked.

“I thought he was engaged to his cousin,” Miss Maria interjected.

“I am not engaged to either,” I replied seriously.

“If you hear anything mentioned of either supposed engagement tonight, please do your best to contradict it. But say nothing of Elizabeth. However, that leads me to an important question,” I said, noticing that more people had arrived whilst we had been talking.

“I would like to request a set from each of you tonight. Miss Lydia, were you and your sisters able to decide on the sets you wished to dance with me?”

Miss Lydia confirmed that they had, and before long, I found myself engaged to all six ladies for various sets throughout the evening—ensuring that each of the significant dances was accounted for by a Bennet sister .

Our conversation was soon interrupted by others.

Miss Lydia and Miss Lucas remained nearby whilst the other young ladies drifted away to greet friends and neighbours.

Several of the local gentlemen I had come to know during my stay approached to speak with me, and I did my best to be civil as I repeated, more times than I cared to count, that I would be departing the following morning.

“I promised my sister we would spend Christmas at our estate in Derbyshire this year,” I explained, again and again.

“It is far easier to travel now than to risk waiting until the day approaches. The weather in the Peaks is much more unpredictable than it is here, and snow tends to arrive much earlier.”

That much was true, but still, it did not alleviate my concerns about where Elizabeth had been taken.

If she were as far north as Scotland, did she have adequate clothes to see her through a winter there?

I hoped her parents would have assured themselves that she would be safe and well cared for, but still, I could not help but worry about my beloved.

As the evening continued, I noticed Miss Bingley looking at me unhappily many times.

By the time of the supper set, which I danced with Miss Lydia, she appeared irate, although she did attempt, unsuccessfully, to hide it.

At supper, I was surrounded by the Bennet and Lucas sisters, along with their partners, most of whom I knew from my time in Hertfordshire.

Miss Lydia ensured that I was never left alone, and although Miss Bingley tried to approach me several times, others assisted me in ensuring that never happened.

Towards the end of the evening, I noticed that several of the matrons in the area had surrounded Miss Bingley. She was not speaking, only listening to the conversations around her and looking decidedly frustrated.

Colonel Forster came to speak to me then, and whilst I was occupied with him, I lost track of Miss Bingley. Just as that man left to find his wife, Miss Bingley approached me from behind.

“Enough of these theatrics, Mr. Darcy,” she said sharply. “You have avoided me all evening. It is time you did your duty and danced with your hostess.”

I shook my head. “I informed your brother that I would not dance with you tonight or at any other time in the future,” I told her, watching as Miss Lucas approached from the corner of my eye.

She was behind Miss Bingley and wisely remained out of her view but close enough to be able to hear our discussion.

“Why?” she nearly shrieked, only considering the need to modulate her voice after she spoke.

“I am aware of the rumours you have been spreading about a supposed secret engagement between us,” I said, my tone deliberately calm.

“As you and I both know, there is no truth to it. That is why I have made a point of avoiding you this evening—and I have also ensured that the same people who heard your whispers have now heard my denial.”

Miss Bingley’s eyes widened, and a flush rose to her cheeks. “You cannot seriously mean that, Mr. Darcy,” she said, her voice sharp with disbelief and wounded pride.

“I mean every word,” I replied evenly. “Let me be perfectly clear. I will not be coerced into marriage—neither by scandal, nor rumour, nor any scheme involving false pretences or unwelcome visits to my bedchamber. Your brother is aware of my stance and does not support your efforts. If he did, our friendship would be at an end—and you, Miss Bingley, would still be left ruined.”

She gasped, drawing herself up as if to protest, but I held her gaze. “I have written to my friends in town about our engagement,” she exclaimed.

“Then you are more foolish than I thought,” I replied, not caring how harsh I might have sounded. “You have had no reason to suppose I would propose to you, and even if you had, you still should have waited until I had actually asked before you announced it.”

“This is about that chit, Eliza Bennet, is it not?” Miss Bingley snapped. “You cannot possibly believe she would make a better wife than I. What does she have that I do not?”

“Perhaps compassion, intelligence, modesty—qualities you have never even attempted to emulate,” I said coldly. “Miss Elizabeth is kind, thoughtful, generous… everything you are not and never will be.”

She scoffed, bitterness twisting her features into something ugly. “She would only drag you down, Mr. Darcy. She could never be the wife I would be,” she hissed.

Then, with a startling shift, she smiled—wide and cruel.

“Too bad she has disappeared,” she added lightly.

“I hear she is not in London, despite her family claiming otherwise. Are you certain she is not hiding a bastard? Perhaps your bastard—or someone else’s.

Either way, when she returns—if she returns—her reputation will be in tatters.

You will never be able to marry her without significantly damaging your reputation and that of your precious sister. ”

I took a step forward, fury tightening my chest. I hoped the look on my face conveyed precisely how dangerous her words were.

“Whatever part you have played in this, Miss Bingley, be assured of this—Elizabeth Bennet shall be my wife. No word you utter, no scheme you devise, will prevent it. I will find her, wherever she may be, and when I do, I shall make her my wife.”

At my gesture, Bingley stepped forward. Miss Lucas had summoned him moments earlier, and he had arrived in time to hear the worst of his sister’s venom.

“What have you done, Caroline?” he asked, his voice tight and urgent.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her tone feigning innocence. “I have done nothing. Mr. Darcy is simply angry that that little harlot Eliza Bennet has run off, and he is lashing out at me—his intended. ”

“You are delusional, Caroline,” Bingley said coldly. “Miss Elizabeth is in London with her aunt and uncle. And Darcy has said often enough that he will never marry you.”

“No, she is not,” Miss Bingley replied, her voice rising with every word.

She seemed to relish the growing audience, turning her bitterness into a performance.

“And is it not convenient that she vanished the same week that new militia lieutenant disappeared? I would not be at all surprised if she ran off to Scotland with him.”

“You change your story as often as you change gowns, Miss Bingley,” I said, my voice hard and unwavering.

I looked directly into the eyes of the onlookers.

“Let me be clear—Miss Elizabeth left before George Wickham ever arrived in Meryton. If she is not in London, it is because Miss Bingley conspired with Mr. and Mrs. Bennet to send her away—likely in exchange for her brother’s proposal to Miss Bennet.

She believed removing Elizabeth would give her a clear path to entrap me in marriage through gossip and deception. ”

A collective gasp met this revelation, and every gaze was drawn to Mrs Bennet, who stood at the centre of the company.

“What?” she asked the group. “Lizzy went to London to assist the Gardiners.”

“No, she did not,” Miss Lydia cried. “You and Miss Bingley wanted her out of the way so Mr. Bingley would marry Jane and Miss Bingley could marry Mr. Darcy. She told you that Lizzy was in the way of her plans, so you agreed with her and took her funds so you could send Lizzy away in exchange for her allowing her brother to marry Jane.”

Another gasp rippled through the assembled guests. Mr. Bennet stepped forward, turning to his wife.

“What is this?” he demanded. “Lizzy is in London. I arranged it myself.” Perhaps the others may not have noticed the disingenuousness of his tone, but I did.

I may not have noticed it normally, but I knew that Mr. Bennet was lying, for why else would Lydia have heard her parents arguing about the matter only a few nights before ?

“Then someone—likely your wife—went behind your back and made other arrangements,” I said coldly, my gaze fixed on the man who had refused even to hear me out a week ago.

“She convinced you—although perhaps you did not need much convincing—that I could not possibly be serious in my intentions towards Miss Elizabeth. You refused to even allow me an audience, relying instead on the word of your wife and Miss Bingley about my so-called prior entanglements. You never even bothered to ask me for the truth of the matter. Regardless, I can assure you now: Elizabeth is not in London. At least, she is not staying with the Gardiners.”

Mr. Bennet turned sharply towards me. “How could you know that?”

“I wrote to the Gardiners directly,” I said tersely. “Surely you must have wondered why she never wrote to say she had arrived.”

“It… it did not occur to me to wonder,” he murmured, before slowly turning to face his wife. “Where is she, Mrs. Bennet?”

Mrs. Bennet looked panicked, her eyes darting to Miss Bingley before settling on her husband.

“I… I do not know precisely,” she stammered.

“She… she made the arrangements for her, but with your approval.” Mrs. Bennet refused to take the responsibility for herself, making sure that everyone else who had been involved was identified.