Page 73 of The Riches of a Life Well-Lived
Sunday, December 15, 1811—26 Days after Tuesday
Despite the chilly day, Elizabeth felt as though she could have heated the entire chapel with her body heat alone. Her mother, unsurprisingly, had been hard at work, spreading the ‘glorious news’ to as many people as possible at the Sunday service.
The news would have spread regardless, but having the neighbourhood present at services provided a convenient means for Mrs. Bennet to discuss it with several ladies all at once. Mr. Bingley and William had attended church too, and Mrs. Bennet had used their presence to announce her good fortune.
“Eliza, is it true?” Charlotte murmured after the service.
Elizabeth nodded. At the hurt look in her friend’s eyes, she drew Charlotte into a deserted antechamber.
“Why did you not tell me? Is this why you rejected Mr. Collins?” Charlotte asked the moment they were away from prying ears.
Elizabeth fidgeted with her skirt. “I did not tell you because I did not know how to. I had been so adamant in my dislike of Mr. Darcy.” She looked down at the grey stone floor. “How was I to tell you that I was wrong about him from the start? And not only wrong about his character but also about his disdain for me?” She met Charlotte’s gaze. “My heart was engaged before he left for London, though I did not know if he would return. Even if I had not been so attached, I still would have rejected Mr. Collins.” She smiled wryly. “Not all of us have the disposition to endure constant conversation and still be content.”
Charlotte stood there, searching her friend’s eyes in the dim light.
Elizabeth held her gaze, hoping that Charlotte would see sufficient truth to drop the matter. She had spoken the truth entirely. Yet, she also had no desire to explain about Tuesday, nor that Mr. Darcy had changed nearly as much as she had since they had first met.
“Mr. Darcy is certainly wealthy,” Charlotte said carefully, “but, Eliza, are you confident that you will be content with him? You disliked him so strongly from the beginning. After the Netherfield ball, I thought your dislike had waned, but then―” She shook her head and took Elizabeth’s hand, appearing torn. “You are not built for mere contentment, my friend. I am worried that you will find yourself miserable.”
Elizabeth smiled and pulled Charlotte into a quick hug. “Thank you, Charlotte. You have been a good friend to me for so many years. I shall be more than content with Mr. Darcy. He is a man who takes responsibility for his faults and works to rectify them. He even apologised for his words at the assembly ball.”
“Apologised?” Charlotte asked, eyes wide. “When?”
Elizabeth chuckled, though her mind raced. “It was shortly before the Netherfield ball. You will laugh, but I must confess that Jane was right: Mr. Darcy was more shy than proud.”
Charlotte smiled. “Jane’s rosy view had to be correct, eventually.”
“True. You do not have to worry about me, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said earnestly. “I am thrilled to be marrying Mr. Darcy—not for his wealth or connections, but just because he is such a good man. The best man I have ever known, and I am sorry I did not tell you about his suit earlier.”
“Thank you. I will forgive you—this time.” Charlotte glanced over to where their mothers were speaking, Mrs. Bennet with animation and Lady Lucas with resigned annoyance. “I know things are a bit odd between us, given that I am betrothed to the man who will inherit Longbourn and whom you rejected, but I hope we shall remain good friends.”
“I hope so too,” Elizabeth said, squeezing her friend’s hand and then linking arms with her. “Come, let us find Jane and you can tell her that I said she was right.”
Monday, December 16, 1811—27 Days after Tuesday
Darcy nearly crushed his partially-tied cravat when a servant announced that Mr. Bennet was at Netherfield, requesting to speak to him. He had only just returned from his morning ride and was even now freshening up so he and Bingley could go to Longbourn. Darcy instructed the servant to show Mr. Bennet into the sitting room and then finished his preparations quickly, his mind racing. Had Mr. Bennet come to rescind his permission? Or had something happened to Elizabeth?
“Good day, Mr. Bennet,” he said as he strode into the sitting room.
The man who turned to face him had clearly not slept the night before and his clothing was dishevelled.
“Good God! Is something the matter with Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy exclaimed.
Mr. Bennet shook his head and then cleared his throat. “No. Not—not now.”
“Not now?”
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat again. “Mrs. Engel paid me another visit last night. Apparently, I ‘am too apt to let feelings of blame pass without changing my behaviour.’ She called it a severe mercy.” His eyes took on a faraway cast. “I suppose it is a mercy.” He took a step closer, and Darcy was shocked to see tears in the man’s eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. If you had not come into our lives, my Lizzy would be dead within the year, and Jane―” His Adam’s apple bobbed and he shook his head.
Darcy’s knees nearly buckled. “What?”
The ghost of a smirk crossed the man’s face. “I suffered from similar scepticism. Apparently, you are all that stands between my family and ruin.” He sobered. “Mrs. Engel showed me two futures: what would have happened if you had not come into our lives and what will happen if I lose my family to you. She then trapped me in a repeating minute for more than a day so that I would have ‘sufficient time to make a considered choice.’”
Darcy blinked at the man, unsure how to even begin to respond. “Is Elizabeth safe?”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “She was in a carriage accident on her way to reside with my brother. Lydia had run off with a different young lieutenant and I suffered an apoplexy, presumably due to the stress of trying to find her. That will not happen now”
Darcy let out a breath of relief that his beloved’s death was not imminent. “I cannot imagine repeating a minute,” he offered.
The man grimaced. “I do not recommend it. A minute is not sufficient time to begin any task, even just to leave my study, before time resets.”
“Time to consider indeed,” Darcy said lamely. The thought of something like that happening to him sent a shudder through his soul. Endless moments of time that one could not use, could not even interact with anyone.
Mr. Bennet shook his head ruefully. “I—I am still not sure how to change, but I must. That future—my life was so meaningless,” he said hoarsely. “I thought that once my children were gone, I would have more time, fewer distractions, that I could finally devote attention to the research that I have long wished to undertake.” Bitterness crossed his face. “I was not wrong. I had all the time I could have wished for. Wrapped up in my books, I missed my grandchildren’s births and childhoods. My wife left me to live with our daughters, none of whom lived nearby. My children were—content, though Lizzy often seemed pained by my absence, even when it was on her sisters’ or mother’s behalfs.” He turned away from Darcy. “And in the end, I died alone. My family did not even learn of my demise in time to attend the funeral.”
Darcy’s throat grew tight as he listened to the bleak picture Elizabeth’s father painted. He could imagine all too well how gutted Elizabeth would have been.
“And for what?” Mr. Bennet continued. “No lasting beneficial impact came from my studies—the one legacy I had left after the entail. I sacrificed myself and my family for nothing. And, as Mrs. Engel pointedly reminded me, until now I have chosen entertainment over impacting my family, again and again. I have ignored my family, not realising that they are the only treasure I have.” His hands clenched into fists. “I cannot allow that future to occur.” He took a deep breath and turned to face Darcy once more. “You offered your assistance. I find I am sorely in need of it. Please, help me.”
Darcy stepped forward. “I would be honoured to do so.”