Confession, I took a year’s worth of lessons in sabre! It was so much fun! Check your area for fencing clubs, they often have the equipment for newcomers to try!
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 28 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Elizabeth woke the next morning to the great dismay of Mrs. Bingley being indisposed. As the clock in the library struck eleven, she slammed shut the novel she had been reading, attracting the attention of Mr. Darcy, who was working quietly on his correspondence. They had enjoyed a light meal in the breakfast parlor as a couple though Elizabeth’s stomach was not keen on a heavy meal with the turmoil of the day’s errands.
“It is not like Jane to play these kinds of games. Do you know that I was barred from entry this morning?” Elizabeth looked over at Mr. Darcy still hunched over his letters. The man appeared so focused on his writing, she was not sure at first if he even heard her. Sighing, she rolled her neck to work the kinks beginning to form from sitting in one attitude for too long, when he finally spoke.
“There are many times when a married couple may desire privacy. We are lucky to have your sister’s support in our aims, and if the Bingleys need a day before calling at your parents’ home, I believe we should grant it.” Darcy was not harsh in his analysis but did not look up as he spoke. He did not see the blanche of Elizabeth’s color as he referred to Longbourn as her parents’ home, instead of just as her home.
Another heavy sigh did finally attract his attentions and he placed his quill down. He could not accomplish all that he must with his mind divided between his business affairs and worry for Elizabeth’s state of mind.
“Advise me, my dear, in what diversions I might provide. I am at your service.” Darcy leaned back in the chair, flexing his fingers and frowning at the ink stains.
“What a lovely offer, but I’m afraid I am not myself, today. I ought to just lock myself in my room until I can be pleasant.”
“A game of chess, perhaps?”
Elizabeth frowned, thinking about her father and playing chess in his study for hours on rainy days. She shook her head.
“A walk, a ramble? You are always up for that!” Darcy tried again to pique her interest.
She sighed. “No, I’m afraid my feet should carry me in only one direction, three miles to the east.”
Darcy nodded, agreeing it had been a poor idea. “Horses?”
Elizabeth emphatically shook her head, and Darcy raised an eyebrow. Perhaps at Pemberley he would find her a docile pony to teach her the joys of galloping into the wind.
Darcy realized she was similar to him and needed physical activity to settle her troubled mind, and once they were married, he had little doubt of what activity that may be. But left alone in a large country estate, the options were limited. Finally, he thought of an idea from when his sister was younger.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would you like to learn how to fence?”
The absurdity of a lady taking up such a sport made his Lizzie laugh. Darcy smiled, a rare expression for the solemn man of Derbyshire, but his smile faded as he began to worry if he had come off as too odd.
“You would teach your future wife how to wield a sword? That IS very daring of you, sir.” She teased him about the fallacy of his logic, but it was all he needed to hear to know she was intrigued. He rose from his chair, not bothering to don his coat he had shed to do his work, his muscular forearms clearly displayed from where his shirtsleeves were rolled up.
“I should love nothing more than a wife who can defend me from highwaymen.”
“Mmmm,” Elizabeth accepted a kiss from the man who had just walked to her, “and you are not afraid of teaching your wife to use such weaponry as she sees fit?”
“I should hope my person is safe, but yes, if any should put a toe out of line in your regard, a saber might just be the tool for the mistress of the house to keep them in line.”
Elizabeth laughed again, wrapping her arms around his neck as he was still swooped down and allowing him to assist her up as he resumed his normal height. “I hardly think I shall be poking the footmen or other servants with a sword should they displease me.”
“Indeed. If you are brave enough to learn a new skill, follow me to the ballroom. At the very least, I can promise you that fencing is a marvelous way to work out one’s aggravations.” Darcy held the hand of his beloved and grabbed his coat that was hung on the back of his writing chair. He dashed them both out of the library, across the hall, through the dining room, and into the large ballroom in the newer extension of the home. Elizabeth was stunned to see the fencing equipment already set up for them.
Suspiciously, she pulled her hand still in Darcy’s grasp, but he held fast. “Have you been a sneaky man and planned this all along as a diversion?”
“Afraid not. Just as your Jane is indisposed, so is my Charles.” The two shared a hearty laugh over their shared predicament. Darcy released Elizabeth’s hand to rummage in a trunk of his fencing attire. Somewhere, deep in the chest, he was certain there was a jacket from his younger days and smaller stature suitable for Elizabeth to wear over her gown. Finding the piece of clothing he had aimed for, he turned around to see Elizabeth with a sabre in her hand, slashing and swashbuckling with the prowess of a fantastical pirate. He struggled not to laugh at her antics but held up the jacket for her approval.
Elizabeth shrugged and lowered her weapon, allowing Mr. Darcy to assist her into the jacket and close it in the back. “I hardly think this piece of fabric will protect me from a blade. Surely I need armor made of metal, unless there is a magical component to this fencing sport of yours?”
Darcy tugged on the back of the jacket as certain anatomy in his opponent’s possession naturally made the snug coat ride up on her torso. Elizabeth took a step back from the unexpected pull disrupting her balance.
Darcy gently took the blade from Elizabeth’s hands and showed her the blunted tip. “Not only are the blades designed for safer practice, but the piece of clothing you wear has tightly woven fabric in a crisscross pattern, so that when I press,” he pressed the tip of the sabre against her right shoulder, “the blade bends and the jacket holds.”
Elizabeth accepted the weapon back from Mr. Darcy and looked at the ornate guard protecting her hand. Fitzwilliam, for his part, donned his own fencing jacket with smart buttons going down the front of the coat, as it was of a newer fashion. “My father used to fence in the garden with our horse master when I was younger, but none of his blades looked like this – why is your coat on the opposite direction of my own?” Elizabeth studied the flat panel of fabric in front of her.
Darcy lifted a French mask of wire and carried it over to Elizabeth. “Your father and my own would have fenced with foils or Parisers, but my cousin and I have used sabres since our formative years because Richard hoped for a position with the cavalry. As he was often my opposition, I became quite proficient with the heavier weapon and find it a better exercise. But it might prove too taxing for a lady . . .”
Elizabeth lifted her sabre to demonstrate she was up to the task. “And my clothing is on in reverse because . . .” She accepted the mask and held it to her hip as Darcy collected his own.
Darcy slid his mask over his face to hide his embarrassment. “I turned your jacket in reverse so that your bosom did not open any buttons. The buttonhole and space between the button fasteners are always the most dangerous opening for an accident to occur.”
Elizabeth grimaced at the reference to her anatomy and donned her own mask. At first, she was timid and listening to his instructions about attacking him, but as he parried her slashes and thrusts with little effort, she began to calm down and worried less and less about hurting him. Once she held a comfort and ease, Darcy began teaching her to use her wrist with more of a flicking motion, then waving her arm and needlessly expending energy.
“The next skill to learn is that fencing an opponent is less about your arm and more about your feet. Like a country dance, your movements should match mine, but your left foot must never cross your right when you are advancing.”
“So I am to gallop toward you like a horse?” Elizabeth lowered her sabre to ask a question. Darcy’s laugh sounded odd as it was muffled by his mask.
“If that is how you wish to imagine the movement, sure. The other footwork you must master is the lunge.” Darcy demonstrated by planting his back foot and then stepping wide with his front, right foot and bending at the knee so as to half the distance between them, earning a point as the tip of his blade again reached her right shoulder.
Elizabeth took a step back and naturally parried his blade away with the downward swoop he had just taught her. “Before I attempt that move, I think it might be wise to commission some gowns with a much higher hem.” Elizabeth slowly mimicked Darcy’s footwork and showed how her clothing could easily snag on the front of her lead foot. She managed not to slip as she did not step so wide as to unsettle her weight, but the illustration was clear.
Darcy lifted his mask to reveal a flushed face with the glow of perspiration around his hairline. Elizabeth righted her posture to be properly standing, and mirrored his movement. Her face also glowed with the attractive coloring of physical activity.
“You believe after we are married you would be willing to pursue the sport with me?”
“We’ve engaged in a strange courtship, have we not Fitzwilliam? I think I should be very pleased to increase my skills with a blade, so long as you do not mind me showing off my ankles.” Elizabeth lifted her gown to test where her future fencing attire might need to be to accommodate a lunge.
Darcy released his blade to the floor and took three decisive steps towards his betrothed. The adrenaline coursing through his veins from the fencing exercises came to an impulsive end.
“My darling, I should not mind you showing off any part of your body. We shall have to carefully consider a way to make you a proper costume.”
Not wishing to overtax her, Darcy suggested they see to some refreshments and discuss further hobbies to pursue as a couple. Elizabeth, not wishing to reveal that she was indeed getting rather tired, agreed to his schemes. She still wanted to march over to her parent’s home and have out with them, but one more day for Jane to rest would not ruin the ultimate result. At some juncture, she would force her parents to accept her marriage to Mr. Darcy, and knowing her mother, it shouldn’t take much longer than the simple declaration that she wished to marry a man worth £10 000 a year!
Chapter 29 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Suffering from a slight headache, Caroline Bingley rose in the midmorning to a restrained environment in the Darcy townhouse. Her first order of business was to swiftly oversee the packing of her trunks. The previous night’s goals could not have become more botched as not only did Georgiana spend the entire evening in the card game dens, they were summarily dismissed from the house after some ruckus sparked in the room shortly after midnight. The expelling of the Wickhams occurred so quickly, Caroline scarcely made it through the throngs of people to join them in the carriage.
The happy couple were unaffected and spent the short ride back to Grosvenor Square in a disgusting display of affections as if there were not another person present. The very man Mr. Darcy had thrown out of his house now slumbered in his wife’s chambers. But Caroline had caught the gleam in Wickham’s eye, the few times the man acknowledged her presence. He had not forgotten their run-in shortly before his dismissal from Darcy House, nor her role in acquiring evidence against him.
With the new morning, Caroline tiptoed past the closed white door that led to Georgiana’s suite. She hunted for a moment to find a staff member, as even they knew it was a bad, bad business for Mr. Wickham to be back in the household. Finally locating a young footman, Caroline ordered the carriage. She ignored the pangs of hunger in her stomach for her new solo mission to a home she should have visited yesterday. Feeling the fool for trusting Georgiana to adhere to their carefully laid out plans, the path to her personal future appeared foggy for the first time since Caroline had met Mr. Darcy.
The London dwelling of Darcy’s nearest relatives laid less than a quarter mile away from Grosvenor Square. Caroline waited a few measured breaths before motioning for her carriage door to be opened. This morning call represented her best candidate for reinforcement. If Mr. Darcy and her brother knew of the re-admittance of George Wickham into the household, she would be blamed for the failure. But that was not going to happen, Caroline argued with herself, as she awaited the glossy black doors opening for her entrance.
Unlike Darcy House, activity flurried just inside from the early morning stench of London’s streets. Caroline would never openly criticize the household management of a countess and earl, but to her outsider observance, there was something not quite right in the mood of the household. A desperation permeated in every movement in stark contrast to the sulking and hiding overtaking the home she just left.
Caroline attempted to argue with the butler about her connections to both Darcy and Georgiana, and by proximity to the Earl and Countess of Matlock themselves. Thought to be little more than a vulgar social climber, the dutiful Mr. Thompson brooked no disagreement to his insistence that his lordship and ladyship were not receiving callers. It was by sheer coincidence that Lady Matlock came to the foyer. The woman had recognized her nephew’s carriage outside from the window in front of her writing desk.
Caroline dipped hastily into a curtsy and addressed her ladyship impolitely before her presence was acknowledged. “Lady Matlock, I have come to call with the most distressing news concerning your niece and nephew.” Caroline, at least, kept her gaze lowered until the subject matter of her outburst spurred Margaret Fitzwilliam into a conversation she did not wish to have.
The young woman standing before the Countess, a woman she quickly recalled as the unmannered shrew from trade who mercenarily pursued her nephew Darcy, did not impress Lady Matlock. Her over stylized hair, bright jewel-toned gown, and excessive adornment with the jewels one might wear not to a gentle social call, but to some grand event, reflected poorly. Pretentious dress was always a sure sign of someone reaching beyond their stars in Margaret Fitzwilliam’s book. And she was not going to assist a tradesman’s daughter with ill-begotten social credibility.
“Thank you, Mr. Thompson, I am acquainted with Miss Bingley and shall call for you if your assistance is needed.” The butler bowed and safely removed himself to the other side of the foyer so as to be near his lady, but not an active part of the conversation. Once he was removed from the vicinity, the Countess of Matlock’s warm smile melted into an icy frown.
“Speak, and do so quickly. If there is no substance to your visit, then I am not interested in encouraging you to tarry.”
Caroline ignored the rather open insult and declared that George Wickham had returned to the townhouse and was at this very moment reattaching himself to the Countess’ niece.
“You mean to say you abandoned all social graces of leaving your card so that I might choose to pursue your acquaintance in order to tell me that my niece’s husband has returned to her side? This is hardly a situation of grave danger and idle prattle from a woman who I grossly overestimated to be above such idiocy.”
“But your ladyship, Mr. Darcy had George Wickham thrown out of his house just one month ago when he returned from Kent! He and my brother have traveled to Hertfordshire and I am afraid I have been placed in charge of your niece, but I did not expect her to be so willfully disobedient. And I confess I have no recourse to bring her back in line with her brother’s wishes.” Caroline Bingley attempted to explain the situation in Darcy’s own household, assuming the woman to be ignorant of the facts.
A short, hollow laugh was not the response Caroline Bingley expected when Lady Matlock heard the particulars. “I am not unaware of my nephew’s desires regarding his household. Before he left, he applied to his uncle and me for our own interests and seeing over the affairs of Mrs. Wickham. But unfortunately, the law is not on our side. Mr. and Mrs. Wickham are married, and unless Fitzwilliam is here himself to speak to the Constable about trespassing in his home, I’m afraid there is nobody with the authority to protest. Now I have a terribly long schedule of appointments and errands to do this morning, I kindly ask you to leave.”
Lady Matlock gracefully motioned for her butler to come forth, a man who was so well-trained he responded in almost a preemptive manner to his mistress’ needs.
“But – but, he is a dangerous man!” Miss Bingley attempted one last plea as Mr. Thompson shooed her out and Lady Matlock disappeared back further into the household.
Summarily tossed out the Fitzwilliam family stronghold, Caroline huffed as she marched back to the carriage. Crossing her arms in front of her chest as she ignored the grubby hands of street urchins looking for kindness from a well-dressed lady, Caroline calculated her next move. Giving the direction to the footman, it was a slightly longer drive around the block and two miles further south towards her sister, Louisa Hurst.
Shocked by the sudden arrival of the family’s unmarried sister, the Hursts scattered like seeds to the wind as Mr. Hurst retreated to his study and his wife, Louisa, ushered her sister into the parlor.
Angrily, Caroline pulled her gloves off one finger at a time with a fresh scowl for each tug.
“You would not believe the morning I have had, but my trunks are being unpacked as we speak.”
Louisa’s upper lip involuntarily curled in disgust before she quickly schooled her expression to placate Caroline’s temper. “But I had thought you are installed at Mr. Darcy’s house. You and Georgiana? And what will Mr. Darcy think if you abandon his sister now?”
“But the worst has come to fruition! That scalawag for a husband of hers has wormed his way back into her graces, and after the way I stuck my neck out for Mr. Darcy before he returned to London? I cannot possibly stay in the same household.”
Louisa’s head bobbed slightly left and right as she weighed the risks her sister enumerated. Even their brother Charles would not agree for Caroline to be in the same house as the man who physically assaulted her. Though Louisa knew no actual harm had come to Caroline and quite the opposite to George Wickham’s manhood, to hear Caroline tell the story of acquiring evidence against the lout, one would mistakenly believe she was practically raped and fought for her life.
“The only way forward is for Mr. Hurst to take care of him,” Caroline pronounced with a finality.
Louisa nearly choked on the air she breathed. “I beg your pardon?”
Caroline mocked her sister with a gruesome face of disbelief. “Your husband. Everyone knows there isn’t a debt owed that the Hurst family can’t collect. Surely he must have a means to make a problem like George Wickham disappear.”
Louisa’s face paled as she worked to make sure she understood her younger sister’s dramatic demand. Caroline had often leaped from reality to fantasy before, but never in such a violent direction. Still, Caroline was carrying on about all of the actions Mr. Hurst must take or hire out.
Compressing her hands to the sides of her head, Louisa snapped. “Would you shut your gob Caroline Harriet Bingley for half a minute?” she shouted.
Caroline squealed a high-pitched cry of indignation. “But- that man, he looked at me and I knew. He will come after me if Edward does not protect me,” she whined.
Exhaling through clenched teeth, Louisa pulled a cord and held her hand up to silence Caroline as a servant came in. A maid who looked not more than a child obediently entered and listened to her mistress ask for her husband to be summoned. Feeling satisfied she was being heard, Caroline found a seat in the chair Louisa usually enjoyed and waited with a smug smile on her face.
As they waited for Edward to finish up his business and attend to them, Louisa Hurst felt a wave of sadness and pity wash over her as she carefully watched her sister. They had all worried it might come to this, but they had not expected so soon after Charles’ departure from London. The Bingley and Hurst families would be involved in higher stakes than they had ever attempted, and for the first time since her marriage to Edward Hurst, Louisa felt ashamed of the connections she brought into the fray.
NEW RELEASE
For the Love of a Bennet
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 30 - The Blessing of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Fitzwilliam Darcy stared out the window in disgust. He and the Bingleys had managed to stall Elizabeth for one day, and only one day. Below him, a carriage carrying his beloved Elizabeth to her ancestral home of Longbourn began its trek away from Netherfield’s courtyard. Darcy did not agree with Elizabeth’s headstrong plan to confront both her father and mother; the young couple had argued resulting in her storming away and him left behind.
As the carriage disappeared around the first bend, Darcy let out the breath he had been holding and pressed his forehead against the glass. There was no use in denying he was in the wrong.
“Simmons!” Darcy shouted, forgetting he was in the hallway of Netherfield Park and not his own home. Turning around on his heel, he jogged up the second set of stairs, continually calling for his valet. By the time Darcy reached his own set of rooms, the sprightly Simmons had stood waiting in the doorway.
“I have your riding attire ready for you, sir.”
Darcy marched into his rooms loosening his own cravat as Simmons closed the door.
Twenty minutes later, he was saddled upon Alexander and on a tear to catch up to the carriage. The distance of only a few miles made reaching the carriage a challenge, but Darcy’s steed was more than up for the charge. Horse and rider happily galloped with the wind whipping away, increasing the exhilaration.
The warm temperatures had transformed Hertfordshire from the dull browns of autumn and winter to a vibrant and lush green. Darcy ducked under more than a few young branches protruding on a secret path through the woods he learned from Elizabeth. Bypassing Oakham Mount entirely, Darcy and his horse emerged from Winslow’s Wood to rejoin the main road spying the carriage just ahead.
Darcy urged his horse on though the unpredictable road through the woods had already taxed the great beast. Pulling alongside the carriage, Elizabeth lowered the glass and waved a lilac-gloved hand to greet her beau.
Inside the carriage, Elizabeth Bennet felt a surge of confidence as she leaned back against the seat and pulled her hand back inside. There was still many things between them to resolve, but she held no doubt that Mr. Darcy was her tried and true knight of honor.
Kitty Bennet had been starring out her window when she noticed a carriage and gentleman riding a horse enter the lane. Gasping with delight that it had to be her sisters and the gentlemen from Netherfield, she slipped as she tried to run too quickly out of her room. She banged her hip into the nightside table, rubbed the smarting bruise and righted her balance.
“Mama! Mama! Jane is here!” Kitty trampled down the stairs to find her mother and father still at the breakfast table. She paused just inside the doorway, out of breath, her face shining with joy.
Mr. Bennet frowned as Fanny Bennet’s face drained of color.
“Why ever should she visit at this hour? I have sent no note. Have you sent a message to Netherfield?” she inquired of her husband.
“Certainly not,” he gruffed, adjusting the paper.
“But they’re here! They’re here!” Kitty offered brightly as a dour Mary suddenly appeared behind her.
“It is not Jane. I’ve just come from the front and they have exited the carriage. It is Lizzie and Mr. Darcy.”
Mrs. Bennet exclaimed an unflattering remark as Mr. Bennet gathered up his newspaper and coffee to retreat to his study.
“Oh no, Mr. Bennet! You must tell them to go away!” Mrs. Bennet cried as her husband ducked out of the room past his confused daughters.
“Surely we are not turning them away!” Kitty forgot her place and questioned her parents’ plans openly.
“Kitty, hush,” Mary chided. The girls began to follow their father with their mother not far behind them.
“Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet! You must turn them away!”
The whole family stumbled into the hall just as Hill was opening the door so that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy could see the whole grouping just in front of them as Hill began to say she would check if the family were home.
“Papa?” Elizabeth’s small voice asked so much with one little word, arresting the movement of everyone. A loud creak broke the silence after Hill began to close the door before Mr. Bennet’s rare, firm voice, spoke out.
“Let them in.”
Hill moved out of the way as Lizzie entered her former home as an uninvited guest for the first time. She looked all around to see none had changed in decor or design, the house was more or less just it was in her memories.
“Lizzie!” Kitty rushed forward, pushing past Mary and her father, to tackle her sister with a hug of no little force. The two sisters stumbled into the sturdy, stalwart Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth looked up at her betrothed with a smile as Kitty still fiercely embraced her.
The rest of the family did not know what to do after Kitty’s lavish display of affection, and it was Mrs. Bennet who meekly offered for her second eldest daughter and her company to enter the parlor. To Elizabeth’s dismay, her father continued his way to his study and closed the door.
Darcy took a position by the window and remained standing as the seating in the parlor was more limited than the more casual drawing room of the home. The ladies sat, Mrs. Bennet on the sofa with her daughters and Elizabeth in the single chair. No offer of refreshment was made.
Awkwardness ensued as Elizabeth inquired after Mary to little more than single word answers. Her mother appeared to be watching the clock. Giving up on Mary, Elizabeth decided to address her mother directly before the woman kicked her out again.
“I have news, Mama. News you will most heartily endorse.”
“News? I do not know what news you could possibly have to share with me. But did you know that your sister, Lydia, at this very moment, is on her way home as a result of your dalliances? The Colonel and Mrs. Forster have sent her away, declared her too sullied from the gossip. Yes, yes, your lack of regard for this family has run unabated. And you have no apology but come here to impart your news.” Mrs. Bennet retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket to hold in preparations for a fit.
“My dalliances? I’ve not behaved in any manner that should reflect poorly on my family.” Elizabeth furrowed her brows, confused about Lydia. Then she remembered that Jane had told her about her parents allowing Lydia to follow the militia to their spring encampment.
“My poor, poor Lydia. Tossed out.” Mrs. Bennet began to flutter her handkerchief, as her second eldest daughter wished to burn her where she sat with the words she held back. Tossed out, Elizabeth knew quite a bit about that.
“Perhaps Miss Lydia grated on the nerves of her hosts and they merely found an excuse . . .” Mr. Darcy’s baritone voice carried from where he stood behind Elizabeth, an immediate balm to the fiery anger and pain swirling in Elizabeth’s heart over her mother’s callus favoritism.
Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth in abject shock, her eyes wide. Mary, the unlikely family champion, spoke up to support her mother.
“Lydia is a dear friend of Mrs. Forster. The letter clearly detailed the troubled manner in which the soldiers began to treat the sister of a rich man’s whore.”
Kitty gasped at Mary’s viciousness and Elizabeth began to breathe in a more rapid manner.
“How dare you, Mary! How dare you call me such a vile, contemptuous word!” Elizabeth moved to the edge of the chair, working very hard to keep herself seated to push through this conversation. Her family was utterly daft to engage is such behavior. Oh, what Mr. Darcy must think!
Mary bristled under her sister’s chastisement. “The truth is always better spoken than a lie. You come here, unchaperoned, with the man. A denial is hardly necessary as all indications are to the contrary. Is your news that you are with child? The papers did say there are many fashionable bets on when your bastard might be due.”
“Enough! Mary that is horrible! Elizabeth was thrown out of this house for a transgression even I would have made if Papa had wanted me to marry Collins! Stop it!” Kitty exclaimed.
“Thank you, Kitty, but Mary is not only horrible, but she is also wrong. Mr. Darcy and I are engaged to be married and we were on our way to Scotland when we foolishly — no, when I foolishly argued that my father and mother might consent to our marriage and we may be wed in Meryton’s chapel.”
“Married! Oh, how exciting!” Kitty started to get up from the sofa to celebrate the news when her mother’s hand grasped the back of her gown and pulled her daughter back to the cushion.
“The papers do not print falsehoods or they will be sued. Especially by men of Mr. Darcy’s stature.”
“And tell me, madam, have they printed our names? Have they printed Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet? Or has it all been conjecture and initials?” Mr. Darcy clasped his hands onto the back of Lizzie’s chair as he caught himself reaching out to offer her physical comfort and reassurance. Such comfort would be an adverse action to make in the face of accusations that he had defiled her and made her his mistress.
“Well . . . no . . .” Mrs. Bennet trailed off, appearing to take Mr. Darcy’s words into consideration before shaking her head. “No, you are very crafty, Mr. Darcy, my husband, has warned me. My poor Lydia is to be rejected because of this girl, and all we can do is allow the passing of time to clean the stench away.”
“Or you might throw your daughter a lavish wedding breakfast and allow us to marry from this hamlet as a way to put to bed the rumors and nonsense the rags of London have run away with.” Mr. Darcy countered, not realizing he was yelling.
“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Our help to clean up the Darcy name?” A surprising voice spoke out from the entryway as Mr. Bennet had been listening from an unobserved location not yet a step into the room.
“Papa? How long have you been standing there?” Elizabeth addressed her father directly.
Mr. Bennet shrugged and took two decisive steps into his own parlor. The room suddenly felt immensely cramped with two gentlemen standing and four ladies sitting on the available furniture. “Long enough to understand you expect this household to stand behind this farce of an engagement. Your exploits with this man are not merely chronicled in the most widely dispersed paper of the realm, but I have known of your fall from grace through your uncle who was kind enough to warn me of the hefty bank account this man bestowed upon you for your favors.”
Before Elizabeth could argue with her father, Mr. Darcy took a step around the chair and blocked her from her father’s view. “I do not need to know the lies and falsehoods you have been operating under, sir, but your daughter is not and has never been my mistress. I proposed to her very honorably and discussed the particulars of our settlements with your wife’s brother in good faith. I cannot imagine a sensible man like Gardiner paid any attention to the gossip rags.”
“On that account, you are correct. My brother was too naïve to take stock in the gossip swirling your fast set and correct me if I’m wrong, but he lost one of his best accounts over the two of you running to Kent and back to London. You say you intend to behave honorably but in this household actions speak much louder than pretty words on a handsome face.”
“Such as your actions to throw an underage daughter out of your home in the middle of the night for a disobedience she ought to be applauded for?” Darcy’s accusation against the Bennet family was issued in an icy tone of hate.
“What embellishments has my daughter convinced you of, Mr. Darcy? She was warned numerous times of her headstrong ways and they brought her consequences, but not being thrown out in the middle of the night. She left this house in broad daylight to catch the post to London to live with her aunt and uncle.”
Kitty Bennet glanced back and forth at the quarreling adults in front of her, thoroughly confused over the varying accounts that did not line up with her own witnessing of Elizabeth’s banishment.
“So you deny then, abandoning your daughter to the capriciousness of the world, of cutting her off from all support in this household and telling her she was no longer welcome to live under your roof?” Fitzwilliam turned prosecutorial with the flare most often seen in London’s greatest barristers.
“I do not deny she was removed from this household, as direct consequences of her behavior. Behavior that I might add has not mended in so little a time of six months that my poor Lydia must be made a victim . . .”
A very small voice, scarcely above a whisper, uttered a simple word.
“Enough.”
Darcy heard his future bride utter her diminutive retreat but Mrs. Bennet continued her tirade.
The next time Elizabeth’s voice came out as a roar.
“I SAID ENOUGH!”
The young woman, a victim of so much abuse and harsh treatment in a half year’s time catapulted from the chair in such a sudden manner that even her own mother finally shut her mouth.
For a moment, no one claimed the silence and Elizabeth pressed her lips together to keep herself from crying. Winding her arm around Fitzwilliam’s, she didn’t have to say a word for him to understand her desires. Stoically, the young couple walked past Mr. Bennet down the short hallway to the front door. Mr. Darcy opened the door for his lady and the two exited without another word.
Mr. Darcy’s horse and carriage remained in the front driveway as even the staff at Longbourn appeared to have been instructed to pay them no courtesy. Darcy found the lack of care for the horses to be beyond reprehensible and another sign of the Bennet family’s unsuitableness for higher social standing. When they reached the carriage, Darcy prepared to tie Alexander to the post position but Elizabeth stayed his hand.
“I am so terribly sorry to have exposed you to such poor manners at the hands of my own family. It would only increase my embarrassment further for you to ride in the carriage with me. Please allow me to process the gravity of my own mistake in private.” Elizabeth looked up at her Fitzwilliam in earnest.
“I understand your request, my dear, and I wish you to honestly know that I honor your desires. Please do not think meanly of me or suspect for even one moment this morning’s nonsense of misinformed people will keep me from a life of happiness and love with you by my side.” Darcy gently cupped Elizabeth’s cheek as her tears began to spill.
“You truly are the very best of men, aren’t you?” She offered him one of the private smiles that lit up her whole face despite the agony in her heart.
No longer caring about the wrong impression a sign of affection might cause, Darcy gallantly swooped down and kissed his Elizabeth most passionately before aiding her into the carriage. As the carriage rolled away, he heaved himself up into Alexander’s saddle and clicked his tongue to get the horse to start moving. In the corner of his eye he spied movement of fabric, but when he gave it his full attention, nothing appeared in the front window of Longbourn. His anger finally free to bubble up and release, Darcy dug his heels into the sides of Alexander and gripped tightly with his thighs as the horse appeared to be just as anxious to leave the area as his rider.
Inside of Longbourn, the yelling and quarreling continued on until Kitty Bennet heard her father’s study door slam with a heavy finality. But Kitty stood in the parlor, the last remaining occupant, owner of the only information she thought required for the situation. Mr. Darcy loved her sister Elizabeth, of that, Catherine Bennet was absolutely sure. Realizing the house would be utterly preoccupied with the morning’s arguments, Kitty dashed up to find her spencer and her watercolors. It was not much, but she would throw her support to Lizzie and Mr. Darcy in what little way she had available.
You’ve been reading The Blessing of Marriage
Book 3 of the Moralities of Marriage. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet find nothing but a mess in London after they escape Kent. The town home bare and the Wickhams caught up in Lord Strange’s illegal business venture, Darcy has little choice but to make unsavory friends as Elizabeth heals from her cousin’s attack. With the support of the Bingleys, Darcy and Elizabeth are finally ready to secure their future at the anvil in Gretna Green when Elizabeth has one small request.
A novel of 55,000 words, The Blessing of Marriage continues the rewriting of Jane Austen’s amazing story of Pride and Prejudice, wondering what might have happened if Darcy never saved Georgiana from the clutches of Mr. Wickham.
The Blessing of Marriage, Book 3 of the Moralities of Marriage
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation series
Release Date: March 14, 2016
310 pages in print.
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
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A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
Oh those horrible Bennets, except of course Kitty. Mary has bought into the lies and is being horrible, Mr Bennet is cruel and Mrs Bennet is cruel and psychologically impaired!!!!
This wholeness series is crazy good. I find my heart thumping at times and downright angry at others. I seriously cant wait for the Bennets to get theirs! I hope kitty runs with them!