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Chapter Twelve

November 12, 1811 Longbourn Elizabeth

E lizabeth started the morning by preparing for a walk. It would not be long before the temperature would drop enough to prevent her from going out early. She preferred to take a stroll before breaking her fast. The activity made her more alert, and her mood was always improved afterward.

The Netherfield party called several times a week. Those visits, combined with other social engagements, meant the ladies of Longbourn were frequently in the company of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. With each meeting, Jane’s affection for Mr. Bingley deepened, whilst Elizabeth’s admiration for Mr. Darcy steadily grew.

Mr. Darcy appeared to be everything a gentleman ought to be. He was kind, he listened without condescension, and he treated her like an intelligent woman whose opinions had value. Best of all, he made her feel she was worth more than a pleasing face. Oh, she knew that he would likely offer her no more than friendship. They spoke often enough of his estate, his family, and his responsibilities that she knew he was expected to marry far above her station.

And what is my station, truly? she mused. Can I call myself the daughter of a gentleman when I do not know my parentage? Mr. Bennet was her father for all intents and purposes, but he was not related to Elizabeth by blood. Neither were her mother, sisters, or brother. Her adopted parents had never told their other children the truth about Elizabeth’s origins…as far as she knew. If Jane had been informed, she felt sure her elder sister would have approached her long ago.

How would Mr. Darcy react if he knew she did not know where she came from? She had no people, at least so far as she knew. And if she had not lost her family in a carriage accident, how had she become separated from them? What had caused the wound on her head? And what tragedy had prevented her family from seeking her when she disappeared?

Her hand came up to touch the thick scar on her head. Perhaps they could not afford to find me, she reasoned. Perhaps I am no more than the daughter of a poor tenant. Yet, Mr. Bennet had remarked about her genteel speech when he told her the truth, suggesting that it likely indicated she had received an education or that her family was gently bred.

Why do I even consider such things in connection with Mr. Darcy? she wondered. He has not expressed any interest in me beyond friendship and will most probably never do so.

Jane’s courtship seemed promising, however. Mr. Bingley paid the eldest Bennet sister much attention. His admiration was plain to see, making it clear to everyone that he preferred that lady’s company to any other’s. And Jane reciprocated his affection.

Charlotte had pressed Jane to make no secret of her regard. “You had much better secure him,” she said one evening at Lucas Lodge. “A man needs a little help to come to the point, and if he has any doubt about your feelings, he will not propose for fear of rejection. They are very sensitive creatures, you know…not suited to disappointment.”

The three young ladies laughed together. “How am I to do so whilst still being true to my nature?” Jane asked when their mirth was spent. “It is not proper for a lady to be so forward, and I am naturally reserved.”

“Save your best smiles for him,” Charlotte advised. “Look at him differently than you do anyone else. I know that you are kind to everyone, Jane. I would wager that if you ever truly disliked anyone, they would never know it.”

“I shall try,” Jane promised. And she had. Elizabeth’s sister’s demeanor changed subtly. Her countenance lit up whenever Mr. Bingley came near, and her smiles, though still frequent, were particularly lovely when she bestowed them upon her suitor. In response, the gentleman pursued her more vigorously. The Bennets had every hope that a proposal would be imminent.

Yet one thing troubled Elizabeth. Though his admiration for Jane could not be denied, he still hovered around Elizabeth during gatherings whenever he was not at Jane’s side. He listened to her conversations with a furrowed brow, observed her curiously from across the room, and asked strange questions about her childhood.

“Will you tell me where you grew up, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked her one day.

Elizabeth wondered what he could mean. He knew the Bennets had dwelt in Derbyshire until they came to Longbourn. Could he know I am not truly a Bennet? She responded vaguely, saying something about spending her formative years traipsing all over Longbourn’s fields, but had the impression that he was not satisfied with her answer.

She did not think he had any romantic feelings for her. Indeed, it appeared abundantly clear that he adored Jane, not her younger sister. Why, then, did he display such an intense interest in Elizabeth?

She crested the summit of Oakham Mount and turned in the direction of Netherfield Park. The clear, cold morning meant she could see for some distance and the top of the manor house was just visible above the trees. Elizabeth wondered if the occupants of the house had risen yet, or if they kept to town hours.

Movement in the distance drew her attention, and she watched as a large brown horse thundered toward where she stood. She recognized Mr. Darcy, and an involuntary smile spread across her face.

The gentleman slowed to a stop and dismounted before her. “Miss Elizabeth,” he greeted, “good morning.”

“The same to you, sir!” she replied pleasantly. “And a fine morning it is. Not too cold yet.”

“There is certainly a chill in the air, but nothing unbearable,” he agreed. “Derbyshire is much colder than Hertfordshire this time of year. Pemberley is amongst the peaks, as we have discussed, and so we see plenty of snow and frost during the colder weather.”

“I confess, I adore the snow.” Elizabeth gestured to a fallen log and moved to sit. He followed, lowering himself to sit upon the seat beside her whilst keeping the proper distance between them. “Hertfordshire never gets enough to more than frolic in a few drifts. I long for mounds of snow into which I might throw myself and enough to form a few balls to lob at my sisters.”

“Yes, you must certainly miss such things from Lambton.”

He did not know the effect his words had on her. Elizabeth bit her lip and looked away, unsure of how to reply. In the end, she instead asked him to speak of his favorite winter traditions.

“We have a large sleigh that we use to travel during the winter,” he said. “It is red, blue, and cream. The carriage horses are used to pull it, and my sister and I like nothing better than visiting tenants or going to church in the sleigh, listening to the bells tinkling from the horses’ harnesses.”

“I can almost picture it,” Elizabeth replied. “It sounds delightful. What else do you enjoy?”

“We always have a pudding for Christmas, and we have chosen the perfect yule log every year for as long as I can remember. There are Twelfth Night balls, of course.”

“What of presents? Not all families exchange gifts during the holy season.” The Bennets did, and Elizabeth adored the practice.

Darcy smiled. “We do exchange gifts. It is Georgiana’s favorite tradition. She spends hours considering what to give each member of our family, for she wishes what she chooses to have meaning and not simply be a token of familial expectation.”

“Your sister has grasped the true spirit of the season, then.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I behave the same way. Tokens of affection ought to carry sentiment. I would not give my mama a shawl simply because she likes them. Instead, I would go to the local lady that weaves and request a specific design.”

A nearby horse whinnied, and they turned in tandem to see Mr. Bingley dismounting next to where Mr. Darcy’s horse stood.

Though she felt disappointed that her conversation with Mr. Darcy had been interrupted, she turned toward Mr. Bingley with a pleasant smile.

“Good morning, sir,” she greeted.

“Miss Elizabeth. Darcy.” Mr. Bingley tipped his hat and gave a brittle smile that failed to reach his eyes. The turmoil she had witnessed so often when they were in company returned. “It is a cold morning, is it not?”

“Not at all.” Mr. Darcy frowned at his friend; his expression perplexed. “It is nearly time for breakfast. I was just about to head back to Netherfield.”

“Very good then. I shall accompany you. Miss Elizabeth, until we meet again.” His smile seemed more genuine this time, and Elizabeth nodded in reply. She watched both gentlemen mount and turn their horses back toward Netherfield before she stood and made her way down the hill to Longbourn.

Darcy

“Explain yourself,” he ordered Bingley tersely.

Bingley had the temerity to appear confused. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Your behavior I have thus far ignored or attempted to explain away, but even Miss Elizabeth noted how you greeted her just now. Is there something about the lady that you disapprove of so strongly that you cannot even feign enthusiasm at meeting her upon a walk?”

Bingley gave him a shocked expression. “I do not—that is, I never meant—Dash it all, Darcy, it is more complicated than I can even describe. She unsettles me, and I am no closer to learning answers than I was in October.”

“Your attention to her sister is marked, and it is not done to pay court to two ladies at once, Bingley. Miss Bennet is her dearest sister! Will you cause a rift between them?” In truth, Darcy did not think Bingley had any interest in Elizabeth in a romantic sense, but he needed to hear his friend say so out loud. He was rapidly falling in love with the country miss, despite his best efforts to remind himself what he owed his family, and if Bingley had even a little interest, he did not wish to lose a friend in a competition for a lady’s affection.

“ Two ladies at once? ” Bingley repeated, mouth agape. “I am not paying court to Miss Elizabeth! It—‘tis another matter entirely!”

Darcy sighed, relieved to hear it spoken aloud. “I know you are not. Why, then, do you stare at her so much? Why do you stand near her and listen to conversations?” He shifted in his saddle to regard his friend.

“I had no idea you were so intent on monitoring my movements,” Bingley replied sarcastically.

“Blast it, man! You discomfit her!”

Bingley slowed his mount a little until Darcy came up beside him. “How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“She has mentioned it a time or two. Today I could nearly feel her dismay when you barely greeted her civilly. I hate to call you to account for your behavior, my friend, but your manners are sorely lacking where Miss Elizabeth is concerned.” Darcy fell silent, giving Bingley time to consider his words. Their mounts walked sedately side by side.

Finally, Bingley spoke. “I have tried to manage it alone, but I can do so no longer. She reminds me of someone I lost long ago. More than one someone. An entire family.”

Understanding settled upon Darcy. “Then her presence revives your grief?” He had known such feelings himself. Indeed, for a time, it had pained him to look upon his sister, so like their mother did she appear.

“It is more than that, Darcy. She is like a specter. Memories haunt my dreams, and I am unable to prevent them from coming every night. My very being screams that she is exactly who I think her to be, yet every piece of evidence I have attempted to gather whilst here in Hertfordshire contradicts those suppositions. I hardly know what to do or say around her. How am I to walk up to her and declare, ‘Miss Elizabeth, you bear a striking resemblance to a young girl who vanished twelve years ago. Might you be she?’ It sounds utterly ridiculous.”

“I do not have the liberty of understanding you,” Darcy hedged. In truth, everything his friend said only increased his confusion. “You believe Miss Elizabeth is not a Bennet, but some child that disappeared?”

Bingley blew out a breath. “Hearing you say it makes it sound even more ludicrous,” he muttered. “But yes, I do. And I do not even know to whom I might inquire—or whom I ought to contact—or anything at all!”

“Has she no family left? This girl, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I would have to inquire. The girl—Miss Montrose—her entire family is gone, at least as far as I recall. If she has any living relations, I would not know. That said, would they even wish to meet her? I have never heard of any searches for the missing girl. Most suppose she died, as did her parents and brother.”

Darcy frowned. “I sense that you have more of a personal connection to the matter than you have let on. Will you not tell me?”

“I am not ready to share it yet, Darcy. It is still too painful. I thought I had dealt with everything long ago, but Miss Elizabeth’s presence has only proved me wrong. I am no more recovered than I was at the age of fifteen—three years after the incident.” Bingley slowed his horse before the stables and dismounted, Darcy following suit. They handed their reins to the waiting stable boys and turned toward the house.

“For what it is worth, my friend, I shall work to improve my manner of address. Miss Elizabeth does not deserve to suffer for my ill humor. And if she cannot be comfortable in my company, I shall take myself elsewhere.”

“I hardly think that it will be necessary for you to do so,” Darcy teased. “Miss Elizabeth seems to accept everyone with the same warmth and kindness. She will forgive you readily and move past whatever discomfort has persisted.”

Bingley tucked his hat under his arm as they walked up the stairs leading up to Netherfield’s front door. Darcy felt famished and looked forward to having a hearty breakfast.

“Caroline writes to expect her at the end of the month,” Bingley said casually. “Sir James will accompany her.”

“Has their business in the North concluded to their satisfaction?” Darcy asked. He did not feel ready to see Miss Bingley. Though her constant agreements with his every remark had ceased after he politely informed her that he would not marry her, he still found her company unwelcome.

“It has. Sir James’s family approves of her and they have offered to help them find a house in town until they decide where they wish to settle.”

“Will he purchase an estate?”

Bingley shrugged. “I believe that he means to, eventually. His reward monies and her dowry are enough to see to the purchase, but it would leave them with little in the way of funds for emergencies and the like. The house in town is meant to help them save and invest so that they can purchase a home in the future.”

“It is kind of his family to aid them.”

They handed off their mud-splattered greatcoats and retired to their chambers to bathe and change before breakfast. Later that day, they were to dine with the officers in Meryton. Darcy resolved to enjoy the afternoon, even though he would infinitely prefer reading a book in peace.