A Shared History
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
December 1813, Hertfordshire
E lizabeth Bennet sat on the worn sofa in Longbourn’s parlour, a novel held tightly in her hands, her fingers beginning to turn white as her grip intensified. She read the page she had been stuck on for what felt like the fifth time, still not completely grasping its meaning. The noise from within her busy house, and her own anguished thoughts, kept her too distracted to progress very far in the story. If it had been a different season, she surely would have been able to retreat out of doors to sit against her favourite tree and better concentrate on the words. Unfortunately, the cold air on this first day of December prevented her from such an escape.
A small thump echoed from somewhere in the house. An inconsequential noise that should have elicited no more than a slight glance instead made her all but leap from the sofa. She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to collect herself.
It is only a few weeks. You can do this.
Elizabeth looked up and straightened her back to steel herself. Longbourn’s tumult was greater than usual, as the household was busy preparing for a gathering to celebrate the impending marriage of her elder sister, Jane, to Mr Charles Bingley. The gentleman had entered their lives no more than two months earlier when he leased the nearby estate of Netherfield Park. Mr Bingley was young, handsome, friendly, and rich, a fact that Mrs Bennet liked to remind them of any time his name was mentioned. He and Jane had met at an assembly in Meryton, spent most of the evening together in either dancing or conversation, and fallen quickly and deeply in love. It was not long before he proposed, and they set a date for their wedding, now less than three weeks away.
Such a straightforward path to matrimony, Elizabeth mused, a small twinge of jealousy intruding on her thoughts. If only all love stories could be so simple…
No, she reminded herself firmly. Jane deserves nothing less than to have a love match that also answers all of my mother’s and society’s expectations of a good marriage.
Soon after the Bennets met Mr Bingley, they learnt he shared a mutual acquaintance with them. Most of her family would consider the gentleman merely a nodding acquaintance, but Elizabeth felt far differently, for he was none other than Mr Darcy. And it was Mr Darcy whom Mr Bingley had chosen to stand up with him at the wedding. The gentleman was said to have arrived at Netherfield the previous evening and was to visit Longbourn with Mr Bingley this very day. Elizabeth knew not if she could bear it .
No one, not even Jane, knew how much his presence pained Elizabeth. She had never told anyone of what occurred in Kent more than three years prior between herself and Mr Darcy. They knew only that Mr Darcy had been in Kent at the same time as Elizabeth and that they had been sat at the same dining table on a few occasions. A slight connexion.
Unfortunately for her, it had been so much more than that. He had become her biggest adversary.
It would be a difficult few weeks in his presence, but Elizabeth was determined to remain strong and enjoy her sister’s wedding. She was resolved to be unaffected by Mr Darcy and to part from him after the wedding breakfast, after which they likely would never meet again for the rest of their lives.
Elizabeth sighed as she looked out the window closest to her. Her eyes took in all the beauty of the early winter countryside. Though she typically preferred spring’s colours and liveliness, today was different. There was a unique loveliness to behold in the faded grey landscape, particularly as viewed from the window-seat in the parlour with a fire crackling merrily nearby. As she wore a mask of composure amidst the cheerful scene around her, she was oddly comforted in having her own sombreness mirrored in nature.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her mother’s voice from another room. “Lizzy! A strapping young man is here to see you!”
Her stomach tightened with a jolt. She had been so deep in thought, she had not heard anyone enter the house. Was Mr Darcy here, already? Had he come to call on her? That would be bold indeed.
Her hands shook a little as she shut her book and quickly put it aside. Elizabeth stood, smoothing her gown and wishing she had time to change into another, more flattering one. Before she knew what she was doing, she had turned her back to the parlour door and was again staring out the window. She heard her mother’s footsteps coming down the corridor accompanied by a heavier footfall that she feared belonged to Mr Darcy. As the sound grew closer, she crossed her arms and hugged herself tightly to prepare for the moment she had dreaded for so long.
“Here she is, sir,” she heard her mother’s voice say as she entered the room.
For a moment, Elizabeth thought she might swoon. Was this to be the day that all her imaginings, her greatest fears and hopes, came to life?
Bracing herself, she turned around, only to be met by a different man entirely. In place of the dark, sombre figure she had anticipated, a fair-haired, blue-eyed, robust young man stood before her.
It was Mr Henry Royce, followed by his uncle Sir William Lucas.
“Miss Elizabeth!” He smiled at her with genuine warmth, his countenance open and amiable.
Elizabeth felt all her trepidation melt away as she walked briskly towards her childhood friend. She held out her hand towards him, and his sturdy, firm hand soon enveloped hers.
“Royce!”
Noticing her mother looking a little too excited at the pair joining hands, Elizabeth quickly drew hers away.
“If you will excuse me, gentlemen. There are some matters I must attend to before the gathering begins. I look forward to speaking with you both soon,” Mrs Bennet said as she began to walk out of the room. Before she exited, she gave Royce one more long, assessing glance that could only make her daughter blush. Elizabeth could hardly blame her. Her old friend had grown only more deeply handsome since the last time he had come to stay at Lucas Lodge. It took much self-control to refrain from openly staring at him as other women in the neighbourhood, her own sisters, and even some of the household servants always had. If her mother’s reports were to be believed, his fine countenance could only be enhanced by the fact that he had also become wealthy in recent years through an inheritance from a distant aunt.
After her mother left, Elizabeth drew her attention back to Royce and Sir William. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence? The party does not start for another hour. I did not expect to see guests until then.”
“We came to call on your father, but it appears he is out with a tenant,” Sir William explained.
“We thought since we were already here,” Royce said with an attractive smirk and a glint in his eye, “we simply must keep you and your sisters company until the party begins. That is, unless it is an inconvenience?”
Elizabeth tried to shake off the suspicion that he had somehow orchestrated his visit to spend more time with her alone. “It would be delightful to have your company, sirs,” she responded, feeling suddenly shy.
With some silly excuse that could only increase her consternation, Sir William moved to the side of the room and took up the very book that had failed to capture Elizabeth’s attention only moments prior. He hummed a little tune beneath his breath as if to announce to her that he was not paying attention to the two younger people.
Royce angled his body such that Sir William was behind him. “I have very much looked forward to seeing more of you since I have arrived at Lucas Lodge. We saw each other but a moment when you came to call on Maria.”
“Like passing ships.”
“You must inform me at once of all the latest happenings at Longbourn.” Lowering his voice, he added, “And all the latest gossip of Meryton.” He raised his eyebrows, and she laughed.
He bid her to sit down on the sofa next to him, and they spoke at great length, catching up as old friends do.