Page 22 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious “Miss B”

Elizabeth

E lizabeth’s hands trembled as she adjusted the emerald silk gown Mrs Gardiner had insisted that she borrow.

Two weeks had passed since her arrangement with Mr Darcy, two weeks of careful planning and nervous anticipation.

Tonight would mark her first public appearance as Mr Darcy’s supposed fiancée at Lord Matlock’s ball, and a cold weight settled in her middle.

What if someone saw through their deception? What if she said the wrong thing, looked the wrong way, failed to convince society of their attachment?

“Stop fidgeting, my dear,” Mrs Bennet said from her position by the window. “You look beautiful. That gown suits you wonderfully.”

“I feel ill, Mama. This is such a risk.”

“Nonsense. You and Mr Darcy make a handsome couple. Such a fine figure of a man, and so well spoken.” Mrs Bennet’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “When he called yesterday, I was quite impressed by his manner. Very proper, very attentive to you.”

Elizabeth winced at the memory. “You were rather… enthusiastic in your praise of him.”

“I behaved myself admirably,” Mrs Bennet protested. “Perhaps I mentioned his fine estate once or twice, and his connections to the Earl of Matlock, but that is only natural conversation.”

“You asked him about his income, Mama.”

“I was merely making polite enquiry about his ability to provide for you.” Mrs Bennet waved a dismissive hand. “He appeared taken aback, I grant you, but it is too late to worry about such things now.”

“He may have been taken aback because this engagement is not real. It should not matter what his income is. All arrangements with Uncle Morton have been made already. He has paid our debt, whether he has one thousand a year or one hundred thousand does not concern us.”

“One hundred thousand!” she exclaimed. “I should like to meet such a man. Goodness.”

Elizabeth groaned. Their first meeting a week ago had been awkward enough, with Mrs Bennet barely containing her excitement about the engagement, even though it was fake.

Her thinking was, once the union parted, gentleman would remember Elizabeth had the attention of one of England’s richest bachelors and would thus attract another with considerably less difficulty.

Elizabeth hoped this was true, though she doubted it.

In any case, her mother’s enthusiasm remained one of her chief troubles in this venture.

A part of her even wished she had told nobody but Jane.

Alas, at this point, Jane, her mother, the Gardiners, and Uncle Morton all knew.

James had been told she genuinely was engaged to Darcy, to keep up the appearance.

She knew it was best that few people knew but there were some she wished she could tell, and some she wished had never found out.

“Mother, please. Let us not think of things that cannot be but on those that can.” “I am. That is why I asked him about his income. A mother would ask such questions if the engagement was real.”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “He knows you are aware it is all fake. Anyhow. Speaking of fake. I do worry about Lydia. She knows nothing of the truth.”

“The fewer people who know the truth, the better.”

“But Lydia has taken it so badly, Mama. She thinks I am a fool for falling for Darcy when he has done Jane such wrong. Perhaps if I told her the truth…”

Mrs Bennet clicked her tongue. “Absolutely not. As much as I love my younger daughters, they are silly girls. Lydia especially cannot keep a secret to save her life. This would be all over town within the week.”

Elizabeth sighed, knowing her mother was right. “Still, it pains me to see her so distressed. She thinks I have abandoned all principle for wealth and position.”

“Lydia will come around in time. Young people are resilient.”

A commotion downstairs indicated the arrival of visitors. Mrs Bennet peered out the window and clapped her hands together.

“Mr Darcy’s carriage! And another gentleman with him. Oh! It is Mr Bingley, I believe.”

Elizabeth’s pulse quickened for reasons she chose not to examine.

“Of course it is. They are to talk a turn about the park with Aunt Gardiner,” she reminded her mother.

“Ah yes, you are right. I have grown quite scattered between your engagement and her renewed courtship. Is it not a blessing? Two of my daughters so well set? That Mr Bingley is a fine man. I always knew it. A true gentleman.”

Elizabeth decided to not remind her mother of the many words she had called Mr Bingley when he first abandoned Jane and accused her of attempting to set her cap in him to better her circumcentres.

He had thoroughly made up for his behaviour of course.

Jane had informed her that he grew rather tearful upon their reunion, begging her pardon for his many transgressions.

“Lizzy? Stop wool-gathering and come downstairs,” her mother called, ripping her from her reverie.

As they descended the stairs, Mrs Bennet leaned close to Elizabeth’s ear. “You know, my dear, I cannot help but think this arrangement of yours might become quite real. The way Mr Darcy looks at you…”

“Mama, please do not harbour such romantic notions.”

“If you say so, dear. Though I have never seen a business arrangement that involved such admiring glances.”

Elizabeth chose to ignore this observation, though she felt a flutter in her chest at her mother’s words. She too had noticed the way Darcy looked at her at times across the table as they spoke though she had chosen to ignore it.

“Pray, you never told me. How did Miss Bingley take the news that she is not the mysterious Miss B?” Mrs Bennet asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs. From the drawing room, Uncle Gardiner’s voice came, offering drinks to the gentlemen.

“From what I heard, she pretended to be glad for our arrangement whilst being quite upset in reality. Mr Darcy says she has been rather cold to him since the announcement.”

“Well, that serves her quite right. She was behind the plot to separate our Jane from her brother after all.”

Elizabeth shook her head. It was so easy for her mother to reassign blame. Now that Mr Bingley had redeemed himself, and Mr Darcy had saved their family, she had to cast the blame upon someone else. And Caroline Bingley made a rather easy target.

As they made their way to the drawing room, Elizabeth wondered—had Miss Bingley regretted her decision to post such a report? Or had she even played a hand in it at all? It appeared most obvious but she could not be certain.

They entered the sitting room to find Darcy standing by the fireplace, resplendent in evening dress that emphasised his tall frame and aristocratic bearing. When Elizabeth appeared, his eyes swept over her with unmistakable appreciation, and she felt heat bloom in her chest at his attention.

The sensation was most disconcerting. Over the past fortnight, they had spent much time together discussing their story, their supposed courtship, the details that would make their engagement believable.

He had been pleasant company—more than pleasant, if she were honest—something she loathed to admit even to herself.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, stepping forward with a bow. “You look magnificent.”

“Thank you, Mr Darcy. You appear quite distinguished yourself.”

Near the window, Mr Bingley was speaking with Jane, who had entered just before Elizabeth. The sight warmed Elizabeth’s heart—Bingley’s face was alight with pleasure at seeing Jane again, whilst her sister glowed in his presence.

Jane had told her she found it impossible not to forgive him.

His remorse had been so genuine, his explanation so heartfelt.

Then again, her sister had never stopped loving him despite the pain he had inflicted upon her.

Looking at them now, there was no hint of what had transpired between them before.

To anyone looking in, they looked the perfect, contented pair.

She glanced at her mother and saw a tear glistening in her eye.

After polite greetings and civil whiskers were exchanged, Darcy proffered his arm.

“Shall we?”

“We shall,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. The sensation was odd. Complex. And oddly thrilling.

Why did she have such disconcerting feelings for Mr Darcy? It made no sense. And it was most impractical especially considering he only saw her as a convenient way to avoid Miss Bingley’s advances.

“We shall join you,” Bingley called. “I hear Mrs Gardiner coming now to join us on our walk.”

Indeed, the front door flew open then and Mrs Gardiner trailed Kitty, Mary, and Lydia inside.

“Goodness, what a gathering,” Kitty exclaimed and curtsied, as did Mary.

“Good evening, Miss Catherine, Mary,” Darcy said. “Miss Lydia.”

Lydia grimaced and durned, curtseying at Mr Bingley but ignoring Mr Darcy. Elizabeth gulped as her sister rose to her full height.

“Good evening, Mr Bingley,” she said with cool politeness before turning away without acknowledging Darcy at all.

“Lydia,” Mrs Bennet said sharply. “Where are your manners?”

“I have left them elsewhere,” Lydia replied, her chin lifted in defiance.

The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by Mrs Gardiner’s tactful suggestion that perhaps Mr Darcy and Elizabeth should depart for their engagement first, so she could change her pelisse before accompanying Bingley and Jane.

Grateful to depart the awkwardness, Elizabeth tugged on Darcy’s arm and the two left.

***

Once settled in Darcy’s carriage, the tension left her shoulders. “I apologise for Lydia’s behaviour. She is not usually so ill-mannered.”

“Please do not apologise. I understand her feelings completely.” Darcy’s voice held genuine distress. “It pains me that Miss Lydia, who once thought well of me, now holds me in such contempt.”

“She believed you to be a man of principle. When she learned of our engagement—believing it to be genuine—she felt you had somehow corrupted me into accepting you despite your treatment of Jane.”

Darcy was quiet for a moment, his hands clenched in his lap. “I must confess, Miss Elizabeth, that I did Lydia wrong as well. Not just Jane.”

Elizabeth turned to face him more fully. “How so?”

“When I met her in Meryton, she was reserved, quiet. I thought her a sweet, gentle girl—much like Georgiana. But then I heard from the Phillips how wild she used to be before your father’s death.

They spoke of her high spirits, her impetuousness, and I worried about her influence on my sister.

I thought she might lead Georgiana into improper behaviour. ”

“You misjudged her character.”

“I misjudged your entire family,” Darcy admitted. “I saw what I expected to see rather than what was truly before me.”

A rueful smile tugged at her lips. “That does seem to be a habit of yours, Mr Darcy.”

“Indeed. And now, in Lydia’s eyes, my forced marriage to Caroline would have been apt punishment for my sins.”

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, her mind working. “You know, that raises a troubling possibility. What if it was not Miss Bingley who placed those notices at all? What if it was Lydia?”

Darcy stared at her in shock. “Lydia? But surely, she would not?”

“Think about it. She was in London at the time of Lord Matlock’s ball. She would have seen the reports about who attended. She knew how much you disliked Caroline from her time at Netherfield, and she was friendly enough with Caroline to know that Caroline was quite fond of you.”

“Good God!” Darcy breathed. “She would have seen the announcement of the ball in the papers, then the reports afterwards. You are right. She would have known I was there; known Caroline was there… I was certain it was Caroline but this makes sense.”

“And she would have known that placing such a notice would trap you in exactly the sort of marriage you would despise, whilst giving Caroline exactly what she wanted. Perfect revenge for what you did to Jane.”

“But would she truly do such a thing? Create a scandal of such magnitude?”

Elizabeth was quiet, not wanting to accuse her sister but unable to dismiss the possibility. “Lydia is passionate about justice. If she believed you had wronged our family, if she thought you deserved punishment.”

“We must discover the truth,” Darcy said. “Tomorrow, we shall visit the office of The London Caller. We shall ask to speak with the editor and see if we can determine who submitted that original story.”

“Do you think they will tell us?”

“Perhaps not directly. But there may be other ways to learn what we need to know.”

Something eased inside her. Speaking with Darcy, hearing him acknowledge his mistakes and apologise again for his treatment of her family, meant more than she could express.

“Thank you,” she said. “For admitting your errors. For trying to make amends. It means more than you know.”

Their eyes met in the dim carriage, and something shift between them—a genuine understanding that had nothing to do with their arranged engagement.

As their carriage drew up before Lord Matlock’s mansion, blazing with lights, Elizabeth took a deep breath and prepared herself for their first public performance as an engaged couple.