Page 5 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious “Miss B”

Elizabeth

A s soon as they were out of Mr Darcy’s sight, Lydia wrenched her arm free from Elizabeth’s grip.

“How could you speak to him that way?” she demanded, her voice rising with indignation. “He was nothing but kind to me, Lizzy. Nothing but kind!”

Elizabeth stopped, glaring at her foolish sister. “Lydia, you cannot walk away unaccompanied and then accept the escort of a gentleman. What will people think?”

“What will people think?” Lydia’s eyes flashed with anger. “What about what really happened? Don’t you care about that at all?”

“Of course I care, but—”

“No, you don’t!” Lydia’s voice cracked. “You saw me with Mr Darcy and immediately assumed the worst of both of us. You did not ask. You just saw an opportunity to be horrid to a man you have already decided to dislike.”

Elizabeth took a step back. This was not like her sister. Well. It was like the old Lydia. But the one who had spent the last six months devoid of levity, quiet and withdrawn? This was most unusual for her.

“That is not… I did not…”

“Yes, you did.” Lydia’s chin lifted defiantly.

“Mr Darcy found me crying by the churchyard. I was sad about Papa, if you must know. About how awful and silly I was to him before he died, how I never begged his pardon for being so selfish and demanding. Mr Darcy offered me his handkerchief and sat with me. He told me about losing his own father and how he understood the guilt I felt. He has a sister my age, and he was worried about me being alone.”

Elizabeth’s stomach lurched with shame. “Lydia, I did not know—”

“Because you did not ask!” Lydia’s voice broke. “He walked me back to find Aunt Phillips because he said it was not proper for me to be unaccompanied. And what did you do? You accused him of taking advantage and insulted his character when he was doing exactly what any decent gentleman should do.”

“I thought he was criticising our family,” Elizabeth said weakly.

“Well, he was not. He was being kinder to me than anyone has been since Papa died.” Tears streamed down Lydia’s face again. “And now he probably thinks we are a wretched lot of miserable girls, thanks to you.”

Elizabeth reached out to her sister, but Lydia stepped back.

“No. I shall find Aunt Phillips on my own. Perhaps it is you who ought to be concerned about being seen unaccompanied. Oh, see? There is Mr Bingley. Perhaps you can make an accusation of him as well,” Lydia hissed and walked away.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She owed Mr Darcy an apology—a sincere one. Her behaviour had been inexcusable.

***

The journey back to Longbourn had been a silent one. She had found Lydia and Aunt Phillips eventually, but Lydia had refused to speak to her. Their aunt had issued a stern rebuke over the running away but beyond that, they had all walked in silence.

Once at home, Lydia had removed to her chamber while Elizabeth was left to her own devices, unsure what to do next. Between Lydia’s upset and her unjust attack upon Mr Darcy, she did not know what to do.

All that changed, however, when a knock sounded and Hill appeared at her door. “Miss Elizabeth,” the housekeeper said, “Mr Morton has arrived with his nephew. Your mother wishes you to come down to the drawing room.”

The words shook Elizabeth to her core. She had known Uncle Morton was expected, but James? Why was he here?

In the drawing room, Uncle Morton sat in Papa’s chair whilst James Morton stood by the window with his usual air of smug superiority. Mrs Bennet sat on the sofa, her hands twisted in her lap, Jane beside her.

“Elizabeth, my dear,” Uncle Morton said, rising to greet her with an embrace. “I am sorry to disturb your afternoon.”

“Do not, Uncle. We were expecting you. And James,” she said with a nod before sitting beside Jane.

Why did her mother want them here? Once she was seated, she looked up at her uncle but the way he sat with his shoulder stiff and his lips pinched told her this was not his usual visit to see if they were well.

In the pit of her stomach, she already knew.

In addition to his grave expression, he did not usually bring James with him. This was about the estate’s finances, was not it? It had to be.

“Morris,” her mother said, using their uncle’s Christian name. “Do tell me, what is the matter? You look concerned.”

“Well, as you know, Mr Peterson and I have been documenting Longbourn’s financial situation since poor Thomas’s death,” he began. “I had hoped to find a way to manage the debts whilst allowing you to remain in your home, but I am afraid the situation is far worse than any of us knew.”

A lump formed in Elizabeth’s throat. Mr Peterson, the steward, had indicated as much and with his help, they had reduced spending but she had not truly appreciated how bad things where.

Mrs Bennet went white. “How much worse?”

“The debts total three thousand pounds,” Uncle Morton said. “Thomas had been borrowing against the estate for years, and the interest has compounded. Several creditors are demanding payment.”

Elizabeth gripped the arms of her chair. Three thousand pounds was an astronomical sum—more money than they could ever hope to raise in such a short time.

“I’ve used what funds I have to keep the most pressing creditors at bay,” Uncle Morton continued, “however, I am afraid we are running out of options. We may have to sell.”

“Sell?” Jane exclaimed. “But Longbourn is entailed.”

“It is but there is a way. I shall not bore you with legalities but –”

“You would break the entailment by paying off James and then sell it?” Elizabeth asked. James smiled at her.

“Thomas always said you were the clever one.”

The complement felt like Spanish coin.

The room went quiet except for the ticking of the mantel clock. Mrs Bennet began to weep whilst Jane reached over to take her hand. Mary and Kitty stared at their uncle in shock.

“Sell Longbourn?” Elizabeth managed to say. “But this is our home. We have lived here our entire lives.”

“I know, my dear,” Uncle Morton said, pain in his voice. “If there were any other way…”

“There might be another option,” James Morton interrupted, stepping forward with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

All eyes turned to him as he moved to stand behind his uncle’s chair. “I’ve done well for myself in recent years,” he said with pride. “My investments in shipping have proven profitable. I have the funds necessary to secure Longbourn for the family.”

Elizabeth studied James’s face, noting the calculating gleam in his eyes. There would be conditions to his offer—there always were with James.

“That is wonderful news!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed, her tears forgotten. “Oh, James, you’re our salvation!”

“Indeed,” James said, preening under her praise. “But you must understand, such an investment requires certain assurances.”

Elizabeth’s spine stiffened. Here it comes, she thought.

“We are all family,” James continued, beginning to pace the room like an actor delivering a speech. “Connected by blood and history, bound together by our shared heritage. But family ties can be strengthened, made more permanent through the bonds of marriage.”

Elizabeth gripped her skirts tighter as she realised where this speech was heading.

“Therefore,” James said, turning to face Jane with a flourish, “I would like to propose marriage to my dear cousin Jane. Together, we could secure Longbourn’s future and unite our family in the most permanent way possible.”

Jane gasped, her face draining of colour. Elizabeth started to rise from her chair, ready to object, but Mrs Bennet’s sharp gesture stopped her.

“James,” Mrs Bennet said, “what a generous offer! Jane, my dear, what do you say?”

Jane looked around the room, her eyes pleading for rescue.

But Elizabeth could see the trap they were in—refuse James’s proposal and lose their home, or accept and sacrifice Jane’s happiness for the family’s security.

He had not said it outright, but she knew what he had meant.

They all did. Well. All but perhaps Mrs Bennet.

“I… I do not know what to say,” Jane stammered. “This is rather sudden.”

“I dare say it is,” Elizabeth said, arms crossed. The audacity. She had always known James was moon eyed over Jane but this? To use their family’s security as leverage to force her into marriage?

“Say nothing for now,” James said. “I do not expect an answer to such an important question. I am departing for London tomorrow on business matters and will return by the fifth of next month. That should give you time to consider my proposal. Uncle, a month is not too long, is it? I would not wish for the creditors to be unduly irritated.”

Uncle Morton shifted in his chair. “The creditors will not wait much longer. They have threatened legal action if payment is not received soon. I can hold them off, however, with an assurance that the funds shall be forthcoming.”

Elizabeth watched Jane’s face crumble as the weight of their situation settled upon her. In less than one month, she would have to choose between her own happiness and her family’s survival.

“I did not expect this. I must say I am taken aback. It is a rather unexpected change,” Jane whispered.

“The best changes often are,” James replied. His eyes twinkled with delight as he spoke, knowing that his trap had snapped shut. “I am confident you will make the right choice, cousin. After all, what could be more natural than marriage between members of the same family?”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together to keep from pointing out that such marriages were often anything but natural.

While it was not uncommon for cousins to be wed to one another, it was hardly ever out of love and most often out of some other sort of obligation.

That her own sister should fall victim to such a scheme was unconscionable to Elizabeth.

Especially now that she had just met someone who genuinely admired her.

The thought of Mr Bingley entered her mind—gentle, kind Mr Bingley, who had made Jane smile for the first time since Papa’s death. But what hope did Jane have of a proposal from him when they had shared only two dances?

Elizabeth clenched her hands in her lap as she understood how helpless they were. Papa’s debts had trapped them all, but Jane would bear the heaviest burden. And there was nothing Elizabeth could do to save her sister from a marriage that would make her miserable for the rest of her life.

Uncle Morton was speaking about practical arrangements and timelines, but Elizabeth barely heard him. Her mind raced through every possible solution, every potential escape from their predicament, but each avenue led to the same conclusion.

Jane would have to marry James Morton or they would all be ruined.