Page 6 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious “Miss B”

Elizabeth

T hat evening, Elizabeth found Jane sitting by her window, staring out at the darkening sky with melancholy case over her features. The events of the afternoon had left them all shaken, but Jane bore the heaviest burden of all.

“Jane?” Elizabeth settled beside her sister on the window seat. “We must talk.”

Jane turned, her blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. “There is nothing to discuss, Lizzy. The matter is quite settled.”

“Is it? Because I noticed you received an invitation from Netherfield today. From Miss Bingley, asking you for tea tomorrow.”

A flush crept up Jane’s neck. “I shall have to send my regrets.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Jane’s voice caught. “Because I cannot let infatuation get in the way of saving our family. James has made his offer clear. I shall have to marry him. There’s no way around it.”

Elizabeth’s chest tightened. “Jane, you barely spent time with this man. We only know him through fleeting visits and most of those when we were children. And what you do know is hardly encouraging.”

“What I know is that he can save Longbourn. Our home. Our future.” Jane’s hands twisted in her lap. “My feelings are a luxury we cannot afford.”

“Your feelings matter!” Elizabeth seized her sister’s hands. “Jane, you cannot sacrifice yourself like this. There must be another way.”

“What other way?” Jane’s composure cracked. “Uncle Morton has no money to save us. The creditors grow impatient. Next month James will return for his answer, and I shall have to give it.”

Elizabeth’s mind raced. There had to be something—some solution that did not require Jane to throw away her happiness.

“What about Mr Bingley?”

Jane’s face crumpled. “What about him?”

“You care for him. Anyone with eyes can see it. And he cares for you.”

“We danced twice, Lizzy. Hardly the foundation for a proposal.”

Elizabeth studied her sister’s face. “But you do care for him.”

Jane looked away. “That is precisely the problem. I do care for him. More than I should, given my circumstances.”

The pain in Jane’s voice cut Elizabeth to the bone. Here was her gentle, deserving sister, forced to choose between love and duty—between her heart and her family’s survival.

“The only alternative,” Jane continued, her voice hollow, “would be if Mr Bingley proposed first. But that is hardly likely, is it?”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue, but footsteps in the corridor interrupted them. Mrs Bennet appeared in the doorway, still wearing the harried look she had carried since that afternoon’s revelations.

“Girls, I could not help but overhear. I believe Jane is quite right. She must marry James. But Lizzy is not wrong either. Mr Bingley could propose.”

Jane’s shoulders sagged further. “Mother, no. He will not. We must not think of him as though he were a knight from a romance novel.”

“Still,” Mrs Bennet continued, “it would solve everything if he did. A wealthy gentleman like Mr Bingley? He could pay off all our debts without a thought. But no, that is too much to hope for.”

Elizabeth watched Jane’s face grow paler with each word. “Jane, you must still go to Netherfield tomorrow. You cannot let fear dictate your actions.”

“I could not possibly. It would be too painful, knowing what I must do.”

“All the more reason to go. You deserve one afternoon of happiness before…” Elizabeth could not finish the sentence.

Jane considered this, then shook her head. “No, I think it best I send my regrets.”

Elizabeth’s resolve hardened. “I shall accompany you.”

“Lizzy, I just said—”

“You didn’t refuse the invitation yet. We shall go together. I have my own reasons for wanting to see Mr Darcy.”

Mrs Bennet perked up. “Mr Darcy? Whatever for?”

“I owe him an apology. I was unkind to him this morning, and it weighs on my conscience.”

“An apology? To that proud, disagreeable man?” Mrs Bennet’s voice rose in indignation.

“He was not disagreeable when it mattered, Mama. He was kind to Lydia when she needed it most.”

Jane turned to study Elizabeth with new interest. “What happened between you and Mr Darcy?”

Elizabeth explained the morning’s events—Lydia’s distress, Mr Darcy’s compassion, and her own hasty accusations. By the time she finished, both Jane and Mrs Bennet were staring at her with varying degrees of surprise.

“Well,” Mrs Bennet said at last, “I suppose if he was kind to poor Lydia… though I still say his manners at the assembly were abominable.”

“People are not always what they first appear,” Elizabeth said. “I learned that today.”

Jane squeezed her hand. “Very well. We shall go to Netherfield tomorrow. But Lizzy, you must promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Do not let me hope for things that cannot be. I must marry James to save our family. That is my duty, and I shall do it.”

Elizabeth nodded, though privately she vowed to do everything in her power to prevent such a marriage. Jane deserved better than a loveless union with a calculating cousin.

***

The next afternoon, Elizabeth and Jane approached Netherfield’s grand entrance with very different states of mind. Jane’s hands trembled as she smoothed her blue morning dress, while Elizabeth could think of nothing but apologising to Mr Darcy.

Miss Bingley received them in the drawing room with an enthusiasm that seemed somewhat forced. “Miss Bennet! How delightful to see you again. And Miss Elizabeth, what a pleasant surprise.”

Mr Bingley rose from his chair with obvious pleasure, his face lighting up at the sight of Jane. “Miss Bennet, I am so glad you could come.”

Mr Darcy stood near the window, his face gave nothing away. When his eyes met Elizabeth’s, she saw a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps, or caution.

As they settled into their seats, Caroline began an interrogation disguised as polite conversation. “Miss Bennet, I trust your family is well? Five sisters, is it not? What a lively household that must be.”

Jane’s composure never wavered. “We are indeed five, and yes, quite lively.”

“How delightful. And all still at home, I understand?”

“We are all at home, yes,” Elizabeth replied instead.

“And all out?” Caroline asked, sipping from her tea without taking her eyes of off them.

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied.

“That is unusual, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Louisa Hurst, who had not spoken up much until now said. “I was out first and Caroline did not follow until I was wed. That is the usual order of things.”

Elizabeth glanced at Jane who shook her head slightly, indicating that this was not an argument they ought to be drawn into.

“In due course, and god willing, we shall all be wed well,” Jane said.

“Capital,” Bingley chimed in. “Capital, I say. Five wonderful husbands for five wonderful young ladies.”

Elizabeth hoped that with the host’s input, the matter would be put to bed so to speak, alas, Miss Caroline Bingley was not quite finished.

“Charles is quite right. I am certain your dear mother must have such hopes for you all.”

Elizabeth tensed at the barbed comments, but Jane’s voice remained steady. “Mama naturally wishes us all to be happy.”

“Naturally, naturally. Though I confess myself curious—you are the eldest, are you not, Miss Bennet? One and twenty? Two and twenty? Time does have a way of passing so quickly for young ladies.”

“I am one and twenty,” Jane replied with perfect composure.

“I imagine your dear mother must feel some urgency about your settlement in life. Five daughters to establish, and no sons to inherit the family estate—such a particular situation for a lady to manage.”

“Forgive me, Caroline,” Mr Darcy said then. He’d stood at the window thus far. “But pray, remind me how old you are? Three-and-twenty? Is it?”

Caroline’s smile faltered, but she pressed on. “I am one-and-twenty, Mr Darcy. You know that very well.”

A smile tugged on Elizabeth’s lips and she looked up at the man who continued to surprise her. She was about to speak when he cleared his throat. “Miss Elizabeth, I trust your sister Lydia is feeling better today?”

Elizabeth met his gaze. “Much better, thank you. Your kindness yesterday was most appreciated.”

“It was nothing. I have a sister of similar age. I understand how overwhelming grief can be for the young.”

Caroline’s eyes sharpened with interest. “How fascinating. I had no idea you were acquainted with the youngest Miss Bennet, Mr Darcy.”

“A brief encounter in town,” Darcy replied without looking at her.

Elizabeth studied Darcy with new eyes. Yesterday’s events had shattered her first impressions, leaving her curious about the man beneath the proud exterior. His interference on Jane’s behalf had only caused him to rise in her esteem.

The party soon settled for tea, during which Bingley, with a little help from Mr Darcy, kept the conversation from veering into uncomfortable topics again.

After her second cup to tea, Elizabeth spotted Darcy walking to the window, a preferred space of his it seemed.

She rose and walked to his side, raising her head to look up at him.

“Mr Darcy, might I have a word with you? I find myself in need of some air.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “Of course.”

They stepped onto the terrace, leaving Jane and Mr Bingley behind with Caroline and the Hursts. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the garden, and Elizabeth drew a steadying breath.

“I owe you an apology,” she began without preamble. “My behaviour yesterday was inexcusable.”

Darcy turned to face her, his dark eyes serious. “Miss Elizabeth—”

“Please, let me finish. I accused you of taking advantage of my sister’s distress when you were showing her nothing but kindness. I allowed my prejudice to cloud my judgement, and I spoke to you in a manner no gentleman should have to endure.”

“Your concern for your sister was understandable.”

“My rudeness was not.” Elizabeth did not avert her eyes. “Lydia told me what really happened. How you comforted her when she was grieving. How you spoke to her about your own losses. You have a sister near her age who has also lost both parents, you said?”

Darcy’s jaw relaxed. “Georgiana was six when our mother died and eleven when our father died. She’s sixteen now and still struggles with the loss. When I saw Miss Lydia yesterday, I recognised the signs. Grief mixed with guilt is a heavy burden for anyone, but especially the young.”

“You were very kind to her. Kinder than I have been of late.” Elizabeth’s voice caught. “I am afraid I haven’t known how to help her through this.”

“Grief has no timeline, Miss Elizabeth. Sometimes the kindness of a stranger can reach places where family cannot. Especially when the family struggles as well with the same burden. Georgiana sometimes found more comfort with my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam or my aunt and uncle, as they were more removed from the situation.”

They stood in comfortable silence, the earlier tension between them dissolving. Elizabeth reassessed everything she thought she knew about Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“Your apology is accepted,” he said eventually. “Though I confess, I understood your protective instincts. I would have reacted similarly if someone had approached Georgiana in such circumstances.”

“Thank you for your understanding.”

When they returned to the drawing room, they found Caroline holding court while Jane and Mr Bingley sat notably closer together than before.

“Ah, there you are,” Caroline trilled. “I was just telling Miss Bennet about the delightful entertainments we have planned for the winter season.”

As the afternoon wore on, Elizabeth observed the dynamics in the room with growing interest. One thing became quite clear.

Caroline’s infatuation with Mr Darcy—the way she positioned herself near him, her attempts to engage him in private conversation, her pointed comments about shared interests they supposedly enjoyed left no doubt.

Mr Darcy, however, showed no reciprocal interest. His responses were polite but distant, and Elizabeth noticed how he often looked towards the window or found reasons to move away when Caroline drew too close.

“Mr Darcy,” Caroline said, settling herself on the sofa beside him despite his obvious discomfort, “you must tell Miss Elizabeth about your library at Pemberley. It’s quite the most impressive collection in all of Derbyshire. Surely, you can recommend a worthy book that might interest her.”

“Miss Elizabeth strikes me as someone well-read enough to appreciate fine literature without needing my recommendations,” Darcy replied.

Elizabeth smiled. “I confess to being a great reader, though I fear my tastes are rather eclectic.”

“How delightfully… democratic,” Caroline said with a sniff. “Though I suppose in smaller communities, one must make do with whatever books are available.”

“On the contrary,” Elizabeth replied, “I find that good books exist everywhere, if one knows how to recognise them. It’s rather like people in that regard.”

Mr Darcy’s lips twitched with what might have been amusement. “A fair point, Miss Elizabeth. I’ve found some of the most interesting minds in the most unexpected places.”

Caroline looked between them with obvious displeasure. “How quaint.”

As if sensing the discomfort that hung in the air, Jane cleared her throat.

“We really must be going,” Jane said though her own reluctance was evident.

“Of course,” Mr Bingley said, rising. “But I hope… that is, I would very much like to call upon you tomorrow, Miss Bennet. If that would be agreeable?”

Jane’s face lit up with quiet joy. “I should like that very much.” However, her eyes darkened a fraction then and Elizabeth bit her lips together. Jane had forgotten about James Morton only to be reminded now that Bingley attempted to make plans.

Hang James Morton.

As they prepared to depart, Elizabeth caught Mr Darcy’s eye. “Thank you for a most pleasant afternoon. And again, my apologies for yesterday.”

“No apologies necessary. I hope… that is, I hope we might have occasion to speak again soon.”

“I should like that,” Elizabeth replied, surprised to realise she meant it.

How odd it was that just days ago, Mr Darcy had offended her most severely and yet now, here she was.

Thinking highly of him. There was a depth to him she had not previously seen.

His arrogance had prevented her. Yet, now it was clear, there was far more to Mr Darcy than met the eye.