Windswept: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

Chapter 8

Elizabeth was the first to rise the next morning. If all went as usual, she would be the first to break her fast. Therefore, she was surprised to find her mother and father already at the table.

Their tension set Elizabeth on edge. She stepped back outside the room, apparently unseen by her parents, though she could see their reflections in the window. When she heard Jane’s name mentioned, she remained in place.

“You should have told me,” her mother hissed. “I cannot redirect my attention away from Jane. If she is to appear at her best before Mr. Bingley at the ball, then I cannot divert my time to some stranger who is coming to survey my home as his future residence.”

“He is my heir.”

“Be that as it may, I will not spend a farthing or one extra minute on his care or comfort.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Upon saying this, Thomas Bennet turned the page of the circulating paper he held and proceeded to ignore his wife.

It was an old argument that had no obvious resolution. Longbourn was entailed away from the female line. With their small portions, should something happen to her father, the Bennet ladies would be impoverished. Despite knowing this, estate money poured through her mother’s fingers like water. In truth, her father’s as well. Francine Bennet constantly overspent to keep up the pretense that she managed the grandest property in Hertfordshire, even though everyone knew that designation belonged to Netherfield Park. Thomas Bennet filled his bookroom shelves to the point where there was no longer any room. Yet, he continued to buy.

For years, their mama rested all her hopes on Jane’s beauty to attract a wealthy husband, one who would willingly take on the rest of them. When that failed to happen, her mother began grooming Lydia, hoping a foolish rich man would overlook her senselessness and marry her. By that point, none of her matchmaking attempts were successful.

The other mothers no longer believed Francine Bennet’s boasts concerning Jane. Instead, it had become a sordid competition to see who would marry off her daughter first. Mrs. Long, Mrs. Goulding, and Lady Lucas all pushed their eldest in front of any unmarried man, whether he was appealing or not. Their motto seemed to be Better to be married to an idiot than not married at all.

It disgusted Elizabeth. Jane was kind and gentle. The pressure placed upon her was intolerable. Yet, she accepted it as her due as eldest.

To Elizabeth, it was grossly unfair to treat a child like a piece of meat being bargained at the butcher’s shop. If only…

“Mr. Bennet, do listen to me for once. If Jane cannot catch Mr. Bingley then I do not know what we shall do since our girls will have little after you are gone.”

Her father scoffed. “I expect that my heir will provide a diversion to our mundane lives.”

“Diversion? Is that all you think about, Thomas Bennet?” Her mother threw her napkin on the table. Standing, she said, “If you spent half the time caring for your girls as you do reading your stupid books, we would be better for it, but you will not. Have a care, Mr. Bennet, or I shall marry the butcher when you are gone so we will at least have food on our table. Then we will curse you every day until we breathe our last. You wait and see.”

“The butcher, you say?” Her father leaned back in his chair. “I doubt he would take you on since you failed to produce a son when you were young. What possibility do you have now?”

Elizabeth reeled from the harshness of his words. Never before had she heard him speak with that level of disdain.

“Thomas Bennet!” Her mother moved closer. “You made a choice not to think of me long ago. I have lived with your neglect since. But what of our girls, your own daughters? Flesh of your flesh and bone of your bone? What of Elizabeth?”

He stirred his tea, taking his time in replying. Elizabeth knew that eavesdroppers rarely heard anything good, yet she was transfixed, unable to move away from the doorway.

“Lizzy is somewhat quicker than the rest, I will readily admit. Nevertheless, the sharpness of her wit pales next to the most idiotic man of my acquaintance. Even the butcher knows how to make his own way. Lizzy and the others are barely able to put one foot in front of the other without guidance. All five of them, Lizzy included, are silly and ignorant.”

“And whose fault is that, Thomas Bennet? You, who have had the benefit of a university education, cannot be bothered to share any of your knowledge with them. Shame on you!”

“If they had any potential for true learning, I would not hesitate. As it is, they are each too much like you to bother. Away with you.”

Elizabeth’s chest threatened to explode. For the first time in her memory, her father’s cruel jibes were aimed at her, ripping her heart into threads.

Retreating before they saw her, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else. She hurried out the front door, not even taking the time to gather her shawl.

He had wounded her; her emotions were raw, exposed to the harsh elements of life. Why had her father insulted her? Had she not been his most faithful companion? How could he have said these vicious words? Did he truly believe them?

She ran, a futile attempt to outdistance herself from the pain.

Stopping at her favorite oak, she leaned against the trunk, uncaring of the damp that immediately seeped through her skirts. She was angry, bitterly so. Her inclination was to return to Longbourn and confront her father, asking him when he lost his loyalty.

Oh, there had been subtle and not-so-subtle comments before. Yet, he had followed his sarcastic teases with a laugh as if it were a joke. Instantly, she was disgusted with herself for having held him up as an exemplary father when the truth was far different.

Scenes from her youth flashed in her mind. When she was thirteen, Johnnie Lucas told her mother that he would marry Lizzy if no one else did. Her mother’s reply was, “Why would you want to marry her? Why, my Jane has the looks and my Lydia the personality. You would be most unhappy with Lizzy, Master Lucas.” Even though Elizabeth had no intention of ever marrying John Lucas, her father, who was in the room along with the rest of the family, should have defended her. Instead, he chuckled. Elizabeth remembered laughing, too, thinking that her father found the possibility of her being tied to John Lucas a degradation. Now, she saw that conversation in a far different light. He had found her wanting.

Wiping the moisture from her eyes, Elizabeth contemplated what this knowledge meant to her.

From infancy, it seemed, she was the rational daughter. Denied a governess, Elizabeth begged her father to teach her the alphabet and mathematical fundamentals. One by one, she taught her sisters to read, even Jane. Their mother thought it was a waste of time to gain more education since husbands rarely wanted an intelligent wife. It was only then that Elizabeth realized that was exactly what Mr. Thomas Bennet got the instant he married Francine Gardiner, a mate with potential to reason but a complete lack of how to apply it.

What did Elizabeth gain for her efforts? Her mother supported Lydia each time she stole ribbons, coins, or jewelry from her. For as much as she helped her younger sisters, not one of them ever lifted a finger in support of her. Neither did her mother. What of her father?

A breeze caught a curl, and she smoothed it away from her face.

Leaves rustled around her hem as she raised her eyes to the heavens. Elizabeth considered her father’s actions over the years. He was indolent. As selfish as her mother, living only for his desires. What did he know of sacrifice? Of caring for those under his charge? Did he look out for the needs of Longbourn’s tenants? Not at all. If their mother, Elizabeth, and Jane did not provide help, they would receive none. How many times had they heard, “Why should I make Longbourn prosper when it will go to my ridiculous heir one day?”

What about now?

If Jane were there, she would suggest that Elizabeth look for the good in her parents. Well, neither harmed them physically. They had a roof over their heads, food on the table, pin money in their purses, and appropriate clothing to wear for their station in life.

Nonetheless, she felt alone.

Swiping away her tears, her indomitable spirit rose. She was not one to sit idly by doing nothing. What could she do? She would begin hoarding her pin money, saving it in case the inevitable happened and they lost Longbourn to the heir, who was apparently arriving soon. She would make herself agreeable, marrying the first man who offered instead of holding out for someone whom she could admire and respect.

A mental picture of Colonel Fitzwilliam entered her mind. Irritatingly, Mr. Darcy stood alongside him. What in the world did that man have to do with her?

Laughing painfully at her own folly, Elizabeth was more than aware that she had nothing to offer the second son of an earl. What was limited book knowledge compared to a hefty dowry?

Who was Elizabeth Rose Bennet? Simply put, she was someone who yearned to have the sort of relationship her aunt and uncle Gardiner had. They set an excellent example for their children by showing love and devotion to each other. They were partners in every sense of the word, her uncle routinely asking for his wife’s opinion before making a weighty decision. Additionally, they viewed their children as more important than acquiring wealth. Never would her uncle leave his family to make their own way in the world. Their core values were honesty, being honorable, and kind.

Was that too much for a vulnerable girl of almost twenty-one years to achieve? Not at all. Her aunt’s situation differed little from Elizabeth’s. She was the youngest daughter of a gentleman of little means. Therefore, her portion, like Elizabeth’s, was small. She was educated and refined. Although Edmund Gardiner was a young businessman, she had found, in him, the perfect match.

Lifting her head erect, Elizabeth determined that she would no longer be apathetic when it came to her future. She would take charge by being as kind as Jane and as ladylike as her aunt and Mrs. Hammond.

Her conversation with Mr. Darcy came to mind. Did he feel like he had little control over his future when he was young? That his father viewed him as a servant without a will or desires of his own? That the expectations of the parent were all that mattered?

She wished Colonel Fitzwilliam had spoken with her the day prior. Even though he had no authority to improve the Bennet family’s situation, he was a strong presence that made Elizabeth feel like, for the first time in a long time, she could let down her guard and allow someone else to take the lead. Even Mr. Darcy claimed that the colonel was a natural leader.

Richard.What a fine-sounding name. A kingly name.

As she pushed herself away from the tree, Elizabeth scanned the horizon for a horseman who rode tall in the saddle, comfortable with himself and others. How she wished Richard Fitzwilliam was there.

She blushed at thinking of his name. Never had she been as familiar with another male who was new to her acquaintance. That his personality put her at ease was telling.

Again, her eyes went from the tall oaks to the distant mountains. There were no horsemen, no colonels seeking her company, only evidence of the intermittent wind’s destructive nature. Branches of her favorite oak were splintered and cracked, leaning precariously over the stile. She would need to petition her father to have it removed.

She hurried up the pathway to Oakham Mount. Perhaps from that vantage, she might catch a glimpse of him, should he happen to ride her way.

Such fanciful thoughts!

He was on his way north to Derbyshire with his mother and Miss Darcy. No heroes would appear. If she were to be saved, she would need to determine how to do it herself. In the meantime, she had just enough time for a brisk climb up to her place of refuge and back before the family left for Sunday services. She would need to hurry, which was a relief. Focusing on her steps left little time to worry.

With one lastlook in the mirror, Darcy descended the stairs to the breakfast room, hoping that only Bingley would be there. He was.

“Only two more days until the ball, my friend.” Bingley grinned as he heaped his plate with slices of ham, bread, fruit, and cheese. “I hope the colonel returns in time. I expect the ladies would appreciate having another man to stand up with them since the numbers are uneven. This war with Napoleon depleted the ballrooms of fine gentlemen. It is good the officers from the militia will be attending.”

“The officers?” Darcy asked, concerned about Wickham’s presence. “You invited them all?”

“I explained to Colonel Forster that all those intending to dance are welcome. I suppose that means that they will all come.”

Bile rose from Darcy’s stomach, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. What his brother would do with him in the room was anyone’s guess. It would be imperative for Darcy not to give any indication that Miss Elizabeth unsettled him or Wickham would notice. Immediately, his nemesis would view her as a target, one whom he would delight in ruining just to see Darcy react.Although it was possible that George would be less antagonistic toward him now that he knew their true relationship, Darcy was not confident that a leopard could change its spots.

Lord, but he despised the secret he possessed! If anyone knew, Wickham’s attempted elopement with Georgiana would have been even more deplorable. Had he never found out, there would have been nothing to stop Richard from ridding the world of the rat.

Closing his eyes briefly, he wondered how he could protect Miss Elizabeth without making a scene. He would need to exercise caution. No, he could leave her to Richard’s care. Then, she would be safe. But what if his cousin did not return in time? Perhaps at church, he could arrange a private moment with her to give her a warning.

“Bingley, will we be attending services in Meryton or at Longbourn chapel?”

His friend’s attention was immediately captured. “Longbourn has a chapel? Well, of course, they do. I had thought about going to Meryton since I assumed the Bennets, well, you know. I mean, I know that others of our acquaintance will be at the church in Meryton, but I thought…well, I guess I thought I would go wherever Miss Bennet was attending. Do you think they will be at Longbourn? Does anyone hold the living there?”

Sipping his coffee, hoping to find it piping hot, Darcy mused, “I do not know.”

Bingley jumped from his chair. “I must find out. Pardon me. I shall ask my housekeeper. Surely, she knows since she has lived here all her life.” He hurried from the room, returning moments later. “You will be happy to know that the Bennets no longer use Longbourn chapel. They attend at Meryton, so to Meryton, we shall go.”

Grateful for the information, Darcy had a plan. He would maneuver matters until he could speak with Miss Elizabeth, warning her directly about the danger of George Wickham. Perhaps his speaking up would avert a catastrophe. The simpler thing to do would be to show her no attention or favor, leaving Wickham ignorant of his interest. Indeed, that would also please Richard.

A fire in Darcy’s stomach raged unrestrainedly. He could no longer lie to himself. Elizabeth Bennet held a piece of his heart in her hands. What she would do with it and what he would do about it was the question. Richard was attracted but he admitted he was not yet in love with her. It was not too late, should Darcy want to pursue her.

He had two hours until they were due at the chapel and an hour to consider exactly what he intended to say to her. Excusing himself, he went to Bingley’s library, where he would be undisturbed. Like Richard strategizing over a campaign, he needed to think things through, determine his intentions, and then act.