Page 51 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
DARCY
I f there was one thing markedly different about me since marrying Elizabeth, it was how often I now laughed.
It may not have been entirely proper to smile as we exited Longbourn, but I could not help myself. By the time we had all settled into the carriage, I was laughing aloud.
“What on earth is so amusing, Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth demanded once the carriage door shut behind us.
I attempted to compose myself, but the effort was in vain.
“Perhaps it ought not to have been,” I said, still chuckling, “but the look of utter horror on your mother’s face when Miss Bennet stood up to her—truly, it was priceless, my love.
She clearly never anticipated defiance from her eldest daughter.
Whilst she barely reacted to your rebuke, when Miss Bennet spoke as she did, her mouth dropped open so completely, she resembled a trout I once caught in the stream near Pemberley—gaping and flailing in confusion. ”
At this, Elizabeth’s brows lifted, her lips twitching despite her best efforts .
“And then,” I added, “when you informed her of the contract her husband signed—pledging half his income to the care of his daughters—I half expected her to faint dead away. If your stories about her fondness for calling for her salts are even partially true, I am shocked she did not summon for them on the spot. I expect that Mrs. Hill and the others are quite busy now, trying to restore her.”
For a moment, Elizabeth only stared at me, as though debating whether to laugh or scold. Jane—Miss Bennet—remained perfectly still… until a soft giggle slipped free.
That was all the encouragement we needed. A moment later, the three of us were laughing together, the tension of that first confrontation melting away. But the anticipation of the next—the visit to Netherfield—soon sobered us, and our laughter faded into a thoughtful silence.
Although Netherfield was only a few miles distant, it was still too early to arrive.
The sisters had exchanged only a few letters since Elizabeth and I had wed, but nothing of great length due to the circumstances.
So we found a quiet spot just off the road, and whilst the horses rested, we shared more of our plans with Jane—she had asked me to use her Christian name now that Elizabeth and I were married.
“Your letter only confirmed what I have believed since the night of the ball,” I told her. “Even when Miss Bingley collapsed, I was nearly certain it had been feigned somehow. Mr. Jones insisted her swoon was genuine, but I was not so easily convinced.”
Jane’s brows furrowed. “And you think she faked it? To gain sympathy from others?”
“There are tonics,” I said, “well-known in certain circles in London, that can bring about such effects—brief unconsciousness, even tremors or faint pulses. We already know that Miss Bingley has made a study of materials that can cause sickness, given her Horse Chestnut tisane she tried to force on Elizabeth. My valet, Morris, has a remarkable talent for learning the truth of a household through gossip and observation. He suspected Miss Bingley’s hand in it as well.
We could prove nothing, of course, but it was enough for me to be grateful we left Netherfield as soon as we did. ”
“But the physician who came from London,” Jane said, “was so certain that Miss Bingley had suffered from some kind of apoplexy, and that was why she had woken but could not speak. At first, I thought she could not understand us, but after I heard the maid speaking of the letters she was sending, I questioned her harshly about her role, and she smirked at me. It was clear then that she knew what she was about, even though she would not or could not say more.”
“She will not be pleased to see me arrive at Netherfield,” Elizabeth said drily.
“But I am more curious about the others. Will they be shocked? Surprised? Or will their expressions betray some prior knowledge? I have little doubt that someone in that house is responsible for the rumours now circulating through London.”
“Oh yes, Lizzy,” Jane exclaimed. “What will you do about those stories?”
“My aunt, the Countess of Matlock, will have much to say on the matter,” I said.
“She has already engaged her modiste to begin work on your trousseau, Elizabeth, so that you can be presented to society as my wife. And Jane—you too shall have a full wardrobe. As Mrs. Darcy’s sister, you must be dressed accordingly. ”
Elizabeth cast me a look full of amusement and mischief. “Well, I suppose that is something I can do with the absurd amount of pin money you have seen fit to give me. Truly, I could outfit all of my sisters and still have funds to spare.”
“Not at all,” I replied, returning her grin.
“Lady Matlock is offering the trousseau as a gift. She insists upon it, and I suggest you do not attempt to argue—no one wins against my aunt, not even me. And as for the rest, I owe you each a Christmas gift since we were denied the chance to spend the holiday together. You will not need to spend a single penny of your allowance. ”
Elizabeth gave an exaggerated sigh, though her smile never wavered. “You are determined to spoil me, sir.”
“There are many things I love about you,” I said, unable to keep the affection from my voice. “But your reaction to gifts is amongst my favourites. Most women I know—my sister included—would be delighted to be showered with presents. But you?—”
“—I become frustrated,” Elizabeth finished, narrowing her eyes at me playfully.
“And I find it endlessly entertaining,” I replied, lifting her hand to my lips.
Jane chuckled softly. “You two are hopeless.”
“Hopelessly happy,” Elizabeth quipped, leaning into my side.
Then she straightened. “Or we shall be, after this visit. Truly I dread entering Netherfield again, but I suppose this final confrontation is necessary. One way or another, I will say my piece to Miss Bingley. What she has done is not illegal, perhaps, but she is the worst sort of person. I do not wish for her actions to go unanswered.”
We arrived at Netherfield shortly after half past ten. As I had anticipated, the family was still at breakfast. The footman who answered the door began to inform us of this when Mrs. Nicholls, the housekeeper, happened to pass by and overheard the exchange.
The moment she saw me, her face lit with recognition and warmth.
“The Bingleys would never stand on ceremony for such a good friend,” she said with a conspiratorial wink at me and a nod to the footman, dismissing him.
“The entire family is in the breakfast parlour. Allow me to show you there directly.”
As she turned to lead us down the corridor, she lowered her voice and added with a fond smile, “I believe congratulations are in order. You could not have chosen better, sir. And you, Miss Eliz—excuse me— Mrs. Darcy , your gentleman is one of the finest I’ve ever had the pleasure to serve.
But I daresay you both already know that and are simply glad to be reunited after all that has happened.
Forgive me if I speak out of turn—it is just that I suspect why you’ve come, and I am delighted to witness it. ”
I raised a brow at her familiarity, but I did not rebuke her.
I was well aware that she served at the pleasure of the owner of the house—and that owner was not Charles Bingley.
Were I not preoccupied with more pressing matters, I might have taken a mental note to discover the name of the current proprietor and send a letter commending Mrs. Nicholls for her perceptiveness and discretion.
“By the way,” she continued, “those missing servants have returned. Only yesterday, mind, and immediately put back to work as though nothing had happened. Isla, the maid, is just as displeased to be here as before, and she has become even more difficult with the mistress, but to my shock, Miss Bingley ignores it and allows the girl to continue. The two of them arrived at the same time as Mrs. Bingley, and I was shocked to see the master’s mother arrive yesterday, as was the master himself.
If I had to guess, I would say only Miss Bingley seemed to be aware of that lady’s coming here, and neither Mr. Bingley nor Mrs. Hurst were particularly pleased to see her. ”
Elizabeth and I exchanged a glance. Jane had chosen to remain in the carriage, not being necessary for this exchange, and we felt that it would be better for us to not be distracted by another’s presence.
“Did you know that Mr. Bingley’s mother is still alive?” Elizabeth whispered. “I confess, I had assumed her dead and never thought to ask. Mrs. Mackenzie mentioned her visiting in Scotland several years ago, but I did not realise she yet lived.”
“Charles never mentioned her, and I, too, supposed she was dead,” I replied, my brow furrowing in surprise.
It seemed odd to me that the lady had arrived unexpectedly, according to the housekeeper, and that two of her children were not pleased to see her.
But perhaps Mrs. Nicholls was reading too much into what she had seen, and there was more we did not know.
When we reached the breakfast room, Mrs. Nicholls remained standing outside the room.
“Do you wish to be announced or to merely walk in? Before you enter, you ought to know that Miss Bingley is in there. Nearly as soon as her mother arrived late yesterday afternoon, that lady was out of her bed and dressed and just as vocal as she had been before the incident. She and her mother closeted themselves in her sitting room and spoke until late in the evening.”
“When did Mrs. Bingley arrive?” Elizabeth asked, and I wondered what she was thinking when she asked.