Only Mr. Darcy Will Do (3 page)

Elizabeth’s head went back in exasperation. “And what, pray, does Mother say to this? Is she at all inclined to forbid this?”

Jane shook her head. “No, in fact, Lydia is most likely gone by now.”

Elizabeth took in a deep breath. “Oh, that headstrong girl! It has not even been a full year since Father’s death, and all she can think about is getting back to her friends and the officers!”

“Be not distressed, Elizabeth,” Jane assured her in her characteristically calm voice. “I am sure we can trust that Lydia will be on her best behaviour with the Forsters. They will look after her.”

“She will openly flirt with the officers and have no regard for modesty and decorum!”

“Elizabeth,” her aunt implored. “Have more faith in the Forsters. Have more faith in your
sister
!”

Elizabeth put her sampler down and folded her arms in front of her. “What else does she say?”

Jane looked down as Mrs. Gardiner gave her another piece of information.

“Netherfield has been sold.”

“Sold?”

Jane took a deep breath and looked up. Her blue eyes dimmed as she continued. “Yes, a family from the north has made an eligible offer and it has been accepted.”

“So Mr. Bingley never had any intention of returning.”

Jane returned her eyes to her sampler as she slowly shook her head. Elizabeth wondered if she was shielding her tears from her.

“Well, ladies.” Mrs. Gardiner thought it was time to change the subject. “Let us turn our attention to something more pleasant. Tell me, Elizabeth, what is new at the Willstone residence?”

Some recent news in that quarter brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. “Mrs. Willstone’s sister, Rosalyn Matthews, is coming to London to spend several weeks with the family before we all return to the Willstones’ country home in Nottinghamshire.”

“And when will that be, dearest?”

“I believe it will be by the end of May or beginning of June.”

Jane looked up and sighed. “How we will miss your weekly visits, Lizzy! Is it altogether settled?”

“The Willstones are not inclined to spend the summer here.”

“Oh, Lizzy, how I wish things were different.”

“I know, Jane,” Elizabeth said softly. “I know.”

“I have heard they have a wonderful estate in the country,” her aunt reassured her, a smile revealing some creases that had begun to appear on her face. “I am quite certain you will be much happier there. I can just imagine you taking walks in the beautiful countryside.”

“But I shall miss you greatly.”

“And we shall miss you, too,” her aunt assured her. “But we will write, and will look forward to your return to Town later this year.”

For the remainder of the day, the topics of Lydia leaving for Stratford, Netherfield being sold, and Elizabeth leaving for the country were not discussed. Elizabeth cherished the closeness she felt to Jane and her aunt, and envied them for being able to be together when she could not. When she left later that evening, she found herself already looking forward to next week’s visit.

Upon returning to the Willstones’ home, she greeted the family and went up to her room. She was grateful she was not expected to report for her duties until seven o’clock the next morning.

The first thing she did was to go to the desk and pull out a piece of stationery. She sat down and began penning a letter to Charlotte. Despite her earlier assurance to Charlotte that their decision to move out of Longbourn was for the best, she wished now to convey to her how deeply she still treasured her as a friend.

When the letter was complete and addressed, she sat back, looking down at it. Despite her wish to do away with all resentment toward her friend, it seemed terribly amiss to have the name Collins and Longbourn together. She dropped her hands into her lap, letting out a long, disheartened sigh.

Elizabeth was normally not one to question providence, but she certainly did not understand all of the events that transpired the previous year. Certainly her father’s death had greatly affected and grieved her and her family. As her mother lamented, “His death could not have been more ill-timed! None of our girls married, and now we are to be out of Longbourn!”

She thought with a shake of her head how accepting either man’s offer would have secured her family’s welfare. Unfortunately, her family now found themselves in less than desirable situations.

The passage of a year, and Mr. Darcy’s letter had shed new light on certain beliefs she held regarding him, particularly in his dealings with Mr. Wickham. Time had done little, however, to dull those feelings of anger and resentment toward him for his actions in separating Jane and Mr. Bingley. It was very apparent to Elizabeth that Jane still bore the effects of a broken heart.

Elizabeth’s anger directed at Mr. Darcy for
those
actions was more potent than her anger at his unfeeling words to her as he declared that he loved her despite the fact that her station in life was so decidedly beneath him.

As Elizabeth considered this, she almost laughed.
If only he could see me now! Then he could say with even more conviction that I was decidedly beneath him, and he would certainly congratulate himself that I refused him!

She reflected on the news she’d heard today that her youngest sister had been allowed to return to the Forsters’ as well as the report that Netherfield had been sold. That last piece of news put to rest all hopes that Mr. Bingley would once again return. Both pieces of information left her with a disconcerted ache inside. As far as Lydia was concerned, Elizabeth could only hope that she would show some restraint in her usually unseemly behaviour. And it would make little difference to Jane if Bingley returned to Netherfield, as she was now in London. But it seemed to remove any last ray of hope that Jane may have clung to regarding Mr. Bingley and his affections.

There had always been the hope that they would see each other in London, but that had not come to pass, most likely due to the Gardiners’ residence near Cheapside. Mr. Bingley would only be associating with those in superior circles, and their paths were unlikely to cross.

Elizabeth brought a slightly unsteady hand up and covered her mouth with her fingertips as she felt her anger against Mr. Darcy rise. Mr. Darcy had made no attempt to put to rights the erroneous information he had given his friend, even when Elizabeth had so adamantly assured him of Jane’s love for Mr. Bingley. She shook her head as she realized he would have no reason—no inclination—to do her that favour. The gnawing thought about forgiveness tried to surface, but she again pushed it down.

She stood up and walked over to her bed, picking up a book from the corner table. She threw herself down on the bed and opened it, hoping to attend to the words on the page and remove from her mind those intruding thoughts. But she could not. If anyone in her family had ever experienced true love, if anyone was deserving of true love, it was Jane, and Elizabeth could not understand why it had been stolen from her. No, she could not forgive Mr. Darcy for that. She did not think she ever could. The gnawing inside grew stronger.

The next few days brought a flurry of activity to the Willstone residence as everyone readied themselves and the home for the arrival of Mrs. Willstone’s sister, Rosalyn. Elizabeth eagerly looked forward to meeting this young lady who was merely a year older than her. Mrs. Willstone hoped that the two young ladies would enjoy each other’s company in the weeks ahead that Rosalyn would be staying with them in London and then this summer in the country. Elizabeth was certain they would, if she found Rosalyn to be as affable as Mrs. Willstone.

Rosalyn arrived on Thursday afternoon that week. Elizabeth was sitting in a rocking chair in her room with a light coverlet over her. She had briefly dozed off with a book in her hands while Emily napped, and was awakened by the sound of the bell ringing, announcing the arrival of guests. Knowing that Rosalyn was due to arrive today, she promptly stood up, smoothed her dress, and went to the dresser mirror to readjust her hair.

She slipped into Emily’s room and gently nudged the girl. Emily slowly opened her eyes and looked at Elizabeth.

“Did I oversleep, Miss Bennet?”

“No, Emily. I am awakening you because I believe your aunt Rosalyn is here.”

The little girl fisted her hands and rubbed her eyes, yawning as she did. “Do you think she brought me a gift? She oftentimes brings me something.”

“We shall see. The sooner we get you ready and go downstairs, the sooner you shall find out.” Elizabeth leaned down and gave her a big smile. “Now, let us dress you in that pretty yellow frock you picked out earlier.”

Elizabeth helped Emily dress and then brushed out her brown curly hair, adorning it with ribbons. She then escorted her into the drawing room where the Willstones and Miss Matthews were gathered. The younger of the ladies, dressed in a fashionable gown and standing slightly taller than Elizabeth, rose and opened her arms for her niece.

“Emily! I am so delighted to see you! My how you are grown!”

“Do you have a surprise for me?”

“Watch your manners, Emily,” Elizabeth whispered.

Miss Matthews looked to Elizabeth with a friendly smile. “You must be Miss Bennet.”

Mrs. Willstone brought her hands together in delight. “Miss Bennet, may I introduce you to my sister, Rosalyn Matthews? And Rosalyn, this is Elizabeth Bennet.”

“I have heard much about you through Lorraine’s letters, Miss Bennet. She writes that you are doing a wonderful job.”

“And I have heard much about you from your sister’s very own words. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Matthews.”

Rosalyn looked down at Emily with a conspiratorial look. “And if you heard anything from Emily, you know that I always bring her something.”

“Did you? Did you?” Emily squealed and jumped with excitement.

“Well, let me look in my bag here and see if there is anything you might like.” Rosalyn’s light blue eyes twinkled.

Emily clasped her hands together with a burst of anticipation as she anxiously watched her aunt look down into her handbag. “Now, let me see. Do you suppose this could be for you?” She slowly pulled out a lacy embroidered handkerchief.

“Noooo,” the little girl laughed.

Elizabeth smiled as she came to suspect that this was the manner in which this always passed between the two.

“Oh, here is something you might enjoy,” Miss Matthews whispered, glancing up at the young girl. She pulled out a small, leather-bound book. “Would this be it?”

“Noooo!” Emily cried, standing on her tiptoes trying to look into her aunt’s bag herself.

“Hmmm,” Miss Matthews continued. She began to pull something out of the bag and peered closely at it. “No, I do not think this could be it.”

“What is it?” asked Emily, barely able to control her countenance.

“Just a little doll… but no, this could not be it.” Miss Matthews looked over to her niece, a grin teasing the corners of her mouth.

“Yes! I am sure that is it!” Emily reached out her small arms, palms upright, eager to see it.

Miss Matthews slowly pulled the doll out of the bag and put it in Emily’s hands. The girl laughed with unrestrained glee. “How beautiful she is!” the young girl exclaimed. “Does she have a name?”

“I thought you might choose a name for her.”

“I shall call her… ummmm…” She tapped her fingers against her lips. “Elizabeth! I shall name her Elizabeth. May I go play with her?”

“Certainly,” Miss Matthews said, “if it is agreeable to your mother and Miss Bennet.”

The little girl looked at her mother and then at Elizabeth, who each gave her an assenting nod.

Emily proudly carried her new doll off to the corner of the room, and Elizabeth began to follow.

“No, Miss Bennet, please join us,” Miss Matthews reached out her arm. “I should like to become better acquainted with you.”

Elizabeth sat down, eager to get to know Miss Matthews a little better as well. Elizabeth liked her friendly smile and welcoming demeanour. She was a little taller than Elizabeth, fairer in complexion and hair, and fashionably graceful in her movements.

“Miss Bennet, that is quite a tribute for you to have Emily name her doll after you.”

“Indeed?”

“She has named every doll she has ever owned after someone special in her life!”

“Well, I must admit I consider
her
very special as well!”

The three ladies visited as Emily entertained herself with her new doll. Elizabeth liked Rosalyn. She carried herself well but without any trace of hauteur or condescension. She appeared to be well educated and well read. The two soon found themselves in a spirited discussion comparing the merits of poets Joseph Addison and William Lisle Bowles.

At one point, Rosalyn expressed her condolences for the loss of her father. “I see you are still in mourning. Do you mind me asking what he was like?”

“He was a very good man. Intelligent and kind. Very witty. I am deeply indebted to him for passing on to me the love of reading. He spent a good deal of the day reading and encouraged me to do likewise. We would often sit in his study discussing one of his books or dissecting a favourite poem.” Elizabeth sighed as she felt her eyes tear up. “I do miss him very much.”

Rosalyn reached out, taking her hand. “He sounds like a wonderful father. What do you miss most about him?”

Elizabeth pondered this for a moment. “The way he instilled in me a desire to improve myself and learn all I could. We were without a governess, you see, but I had such a desire to learn. I am quite certain it came from my father.” She took in a shaky breath. “My favourite pastime spent with him was playing chess. Of the five daughters, I was the only one who enjoyed the strategy of the game and could best him on occasion.”

“You play chess?”

“Yes, but it has been a long time since I have played.”

“Unfortunately, none of us here play, although my brother, Simon, plays well. He tried to teach me on several occasions, but I simply could not remember how each piece moved. It would be much easier if each piece moved only one direction!”

“But then it would merely be draughts,” Elizabeth said with a soft chuckle.
[1]

They both laughed and went on to discuss a myriad of other things.

Elizabeth lost all sense of time as she, Mrs. Willstone, and Miss Matthews spent a good part of the afternoon conversing. Other than her visits with the Gardiners and Jane, Elizabeth could not recall having spent a more enjoyable afternoon in quite a long time.

Elizabeth occasionally glanced toward Mrs. Willstone, who seemed pleased that she and her sister were getting on so well. She was grateful that Mrs. Willstone and Miss Matthews, both from wealthy, prominent families, did not look down on her due to her current station in life. That she had gone from a landed gentleman’s daughter to have to seek employment as a governess did nothing to lower her in their eyes. The rigid line that separated governesses from their employers seemed to be overlooked by them.

For the remainder of that first week, Rosalyn often accompanied Elizabeth as she gave lessons to Emily and worked with her on her manners, singing, and piano playing. Rosalyn enjoyed the friendship that was developing between her and Elizabeth, and as she also took great pleasure in spending time with her niece, she was quite pleased to be able to do both at the same time.

Elizabeth customarily adjourned to her chambers after Emily was settled in bed, feeling strongly that her employment as governess did not allow for her to enjoy the comforts and privileges of the home. Therefore, she rarely visited with the Willstones in the evenings. But shortly after Rosalyn’s arrival—with fervent invitations from Rosalyn and consensus from Mrs. Willstone—Elizabeth remained with the adults in the evening and visited. The ladies would continue whatever conversations had been struck up during the day. They proceeded to cover every topic of interest imaginable.

Rosalyn gave Elizabeth what she missed most in not having Jane around every day: someone with whom to converse. They challenged each other and encouraged one another, and although their conversations did not take the place of her talks with Jane, Elizabeth found Rosalyn to be almost as amiable.

That following Sunday, when Elizabeth spent the afternoon with the Gardiners and Jane, they noticed immediately the glow in Elizabeth’s eyes and the warmth in her cheeks. For the first time since her father’s death, she had come to the Gardiners in good spirits, and for that they were grateful. She did not come ravenous for good company and conversation, as she had fed on it all week. Instead, she arrived with contentment and an eagerness to share stories with her family about her new friend.

Elizabeth had never pined for any of the social privileges that those in the first circles enjoyed, but she took great delight in hearing Rosalyn talk about all the engagements she enjoyed over the years whenever she spent time in London. As Rosalyn described the balls to which she had been invited, the concerts and theatre plays she had attended, and the presentations at Court, Elizabeth delighted in the enchanting way she described them. She could not help but feel just a small bit of envy as she wished that perhaps just once she would like to step into Rosalyn’s world and experience it for herself.

“Oh, Elizabeth! The music just fills your ears as hundreds of dancing couples bow and curtsey, swirl and promenade down the endless ballrooms in luxurious gowns!” Rosalyn’s eyes lit up as she described the balls in Town, which, although similar to ones that Elizabeth attended in the country, were on a much grander, more prestigious scale.

“And all the fine gentlemen! Oh, sometimes I can barely breathe when one asks for my hand!”

Elizabeth smiled, fully cognizant of the fact that she would never receive an invitation to such a ball or to dance with such gentlemen, being in the position in which she now found herself. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to dream, as Rosalyn finished her narrative.

At length, Rosalyn softened her voice and her light blue eyes widened.

“Elizabeth, do you think a gentleman would find me attractive?”

Elizabeth looked at her and tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, teasing her with her scrutiny.

“Please, Elizabeth! I am serious!”

“I think any man would find you a most handsome young lady!”

“You do not say that merely to appease me?”

“Rosalyn, you have beautiful blue eyes, a fine nose, nicely shaped lips, and a tall, slender figure,” Elizabeth assured her. “You have a charming personality and I know that you must certainly turn many a man’s head.”

“Please do not think me silly, Elizabeth, it is just that sometimes I wonder why…” She took in a deep breath and pursed her lips.

“Rosalyn? What is it you wonder?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It is just that
he
never looks my way.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened.
“He?”
she asked teasingly. “Who is
he
?”

Rosalyn gave her head a firm shake. “Oh, I could never tell!”

“Pray, Rosalyn! Why?”

“He is far above me, above our family. He would never take a second look at me.”

“Rosalyn, your family is much esteemed. Why would you say that?”

“To own the truth, Elizabeth, my father married beneath him. My mother had no noticeable connections, and growing up, I felt the disdain of many families who were of more refined and well-bred society.”

“Oh, Rosalyn, certainly you must be mistaken.”

“Whether or not I am mistaken, this gentleman has never acknowledged me, and if Lorraine knew that I continued to pine for him, she would scold me ruthlessly!”

Elizabeth laughed. “Pine for him? Can you not tell me more? Now I am dying with curiosity.”

“I will only say that he is a man who lived near my family when I was growing up. The first time I ever saw him, I just knew he was the one I wished to marry! But I could never tell you his name!”

Elizabeth laughed softly and leaned in toward Rosalyn. “And you still pine for him?”

She nodded her head slowly. “My whole family knew of my infatuation with him when I was younger, and they laughed and thought me young and silly. Now that I am older…”

“Your feelings are unchanged.”

“Yes,” she said as she nodded her head.

“If you cannot tell me his name, you must tell me everything else about this man!”

“Well,” Rosalyn dropped her eyes and a blush softly coloured her features. “He is terribly handsome. Tall and handsome. And he is wealthy, although I really cannot say that is all that appeals to me.” She paused and bit her lower lip. “Well, perhaps a little bit. I suppose that is a good thing.” She was rambling now, and Elizabeth made a futile attempt to stifle a smirk. “He is a good, principled man, from everything I hear. No one speaks ill of him.”

She gave Elizabeth a pointed look. “Should I allow myself to hope that he would notice me?”

“Rosalyn, if he is such a man as you describe, you have no reason to be ashamed of your feelings. And he would be a fool not to take notice of you.”

A satisfied smile graced Rosalyn’s lips. “You are too kind, Elizabeth.”

That night as Elizabeth lay in her bed, her head swirled with thoughts of balls and dances and being presented to the queen and handsome gentlemen. But it was the image of one particular gentleman that kept intruding, reminding her that any happiness for her sister had been destroyed by his actions.