Chapter Twenty
“They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects.”
MONROE
SOME EXCITEMENT STILL LINGERED THE next morning as we ate breakfast in the cozy dining room, enjoying fresh breads and jams on a neatly set table. Hints of strong coffee and teas wafted in the air. I honestly hadn’t realized how many servants the Bennets had. They bustled about the estate, attending to the house and its inhabitants. Mrs. Hill ran a tight ship and bossed those under her around with authority.
The temptation to improve the Bennets’ story niggled at the back of my mind as I observed the domestic scene. Lydia and Kitty tittered between themselves about the men they’d danced with at the assembly, and I found myself wanting to discourage Mr. Bennet from allowing all his daughters out into society at the same time. Kitty and Lydia were too young—they should think of unicorns and puppies, not husbands. Mary sat on one side of me humming a tune, slightly off-key. Would it be helpful to give her some voice and pianoforte lessons? Was that going too far? Jane sat on the other side of me, sighing happily while sipping her tea. Mrs. Bennet kept replaying the previous night’s events, so much so that she didn’t even care when Kitty kept coughing. Apparently her nerves did just fine when the chance of two of her daughters making good matches seemed possible. Mr. Bennet kept his nose in a book between bites of his hearty breakfast, doing his best to ignore it all.
Meanwhile, I wondered what was going on at Pride and Prejudice Park. Today, assuming time was the same wherever I was, they would reenact Jane’s visit to Netherfield. I wondered who was playing Elizabeth. Was Fitz still playing Mr. Darcy? He wouldn’t do that if I was dead, would he? Of course he wouldn’t. My demise would devastate him, that I knew.
Before I could think about it too much, a bell rang, bringing everyone to attention. I didn’t know what it meant but pretended to be eager like everyone else. Within several seconds, Mrs. Hill entered, carrying a letter on a tray. “A letter for the elder Miss Bennets has arrived from Netherfield.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Bennet fanned herself. “Jane and Lizzy, make haste and read it.”
Mrs. Hill offered the letter to Jane.
With shaking hands, Jane lifted the neatly folded letter and broke the wax insignia.
Nerves coursed through me. This was totally going off script. If Lady Catherine were here now, she would be having a complete meltdown, and would no doubt blame me for all of it. I mean, I guess I was to blame, but it’s not like I planned on being dropped into this story by some strange, unknown means. I was trying my best to embody the best version of Elizabeth under the circumstances.
Jane carefully unfolded the letter. As she read it, I caught glimpses of beautiful calligraphy strokes on the page. Oh gosh, I hoped I didn’t have to write any letters soon. We hadn’t gotten to any of the letter-writing classes at the park. I would worry about it later.
We request the pleasure of Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet at dinner tomorrow eve at seven o’clock at Netherfield Park.
How mysterious. Who is we ? I wondered while the table erupted in loud chatter. Mrs. Bennet jumped up like a spring chicken, not to say she was all that old—she couldn’t have been much older than early forties. “Hill, Hill, you must help me get ready.” No doubt she wanted to set off to Lucas Lodge, or perhaps to Mrs. Phillips, to tell them the news.
“Papa, may we have the carriage?” Jane asked.
I expected Mrs. Bennet to push us to go on horseback—there was always a decent chance for rain this time of year—but she said, “Of course you may,” before Mr. Bennet had time to answer.
Mr. Bennet caught my attention, his lips pressed together as if thoughtfully contemplating this turn of events. “Lizzy, what do you make of this?”
Believe me, I was the last person to ask. “I do not know.” For all I knew, only Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would be our hostesses, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the case. Did Mr. Darcy truly wish to dine with me tomorrow? If so, did this make me the best Elizabeth ever, or the worst?
“Hmm. Well, of course, you must go,” Mr. Bennet responded.
“Yes, of course they must,” Mrs. Bennet screeched.
“Why were we not all invited?” Lydia complained.
“Because you are silly and ignorant, like most girls,” Mr. Bennet stated.
Mrs. Bennet didn’t correct him but ran off with Mrs. Hill, her bonnet flapping.
I stood, feeling as if I could do with a good walk to clear my head. Elizabeth was fond of walking, after all. As was I.
Mr. Bennet grabbed my hand as I moved past him. “Lizzy, what do you hide?”
Did he know I wasn’t really his daughter? “Uh ...” I didn’t know what to say. I was hiding some pretty big secrets, like that magic might really exist, or that when you died, you went to Pride and Prejudice instead of heaven. Or maybe you just went into your favorite novel, whatever that was. Yikes, I felt sorry for the horror crowd, if that was the case. Could you imagine living in a Stephen King novel for eternity?
“What do you mean?” I stammered.
Mr. Bennet narrowed his eyes. “Only that you do not seem amused by the attention paid to you. Does that mean you hold some affection for this Mr. Darcy?” His tone indicated some concern, like a father who wasn’t ready to let his daughter go.
How to answer that question? Truthfully, I did hold a lot of affection for Mr. Darcy. He was my first crush, and now for him to resemble the man I’d loved for almost half my life only endeared him to me more. “I hardly know him, Papa.” That was true. You can only know someone so much from reading about them. “And who is to say that he will be there tomorrow when we dine at Netherfield?”
“Lizzy, you would be a fool to believe that, and you are no fool.”
That was debatable. Ask the Daily Mail . “I will do my best not to be.”
His brow furrowed. “I have seen no evidence to the contrary.”
I smiled, more determined than ever to be the best Elizabeth.
He patted my hand. “Now there is a good girl. Be true to your heart, Lizzy.” With that, he picked up his book and went back to ignoring the world around him.
It’s all I’d ever wanted to be—true to my heart. Or at least to act with my heart in the right place. I’d tried, I really had. Unfortunately, it always seemed to end in disaster. Then there was also the little matter that I’d actually hidden from the depths of my heart.
I really needed to walk now, to make sense of this all.
I put on a bonnet and slipped into a spencer jacket before heading out the door to who knows where. With my luck, I’d surely get lost. Or maybe not. I only made it a few yards from the house before I saw Charlotte Lucas walking up the gravel lane. She stopped and grabbed her side as if she had a stitch. I wondered how far she’d had to walk.
“Hello, Charlotte.” I waved.
“Lizzy,” she said brightly, her cheeks rosy from the cool air that was saturated with humidity. At least it wasn’t raining. “Where are you headed? Netherfield?” she teased.
“Uh, no.” I could only imagine the gossip at Lucas Lodge and in town. Mrs. Bennet was sure to add to it soon enough. “I was going for a walk in the ...” I scanned the area quickly and pointed across the lane. “In the orchards.” The leaves were just turning to shades of yellow and orange.
She approached me and strung her arm through mine. “I will join you. We have much to talk about.”
As much as I wished to clear my head, this was probably a good thing, seeing as I had no idea where I was going. Maybe this way I could covertly ask how to walk to town or, you know, Netherfield, for when Jane fell ill there. That would still happen, right? I wanted those days to spend with Mr. Darcy, getting to know him better, and okay, maybe to vex Caroline Bingley, just a little. That desire was more because she looked like Lady Winnifred than because of her rudeness toward me, which I knew didn’t make any sense—but then, none of this did.
“Mr. Darcy honored you last night. You are the only lady he danced with.” She didn’t sound jealous, merely curious. I was sure it was odd that I’d received the attention. Nowhere in the book did it talk about Lizzy having any attachments prior to Mr. Darcy.
“It was unexpected.” Like the biggest shock of my life, right after who the mother turned out to be in How I Met Your Mother .
“Mr. Bingley’s sisters seemed much surprised by it. I overheard them saying that he had not meant to dance at all except with those in his party. Just as you surmised,” she added, but thankfully didn’t ask me to explain how I had known. “Although he did not dance with either Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst. Curious, is it not?” She gave me a sly grin, obviously hoping for me to divulge my feelings on the matter.
I took a moment to respond, listening to the crunch of the rocks beneath our feet. The leather half boots I wore weren’t all that comfortable, and I had to walk with care. What I wouldn’t give for a little arch support. But how could I complain when I was at Longbourn? The picturesque countryside, with rolling hills dotted by a few cottages, was everything I’d imagined it would be. The gardens boasted roses and stems of hollyhocks that had probably bloomed with vibrant colors earlier in the year.
Hollyhocks covered Fitz’s estate every spring and summer. I loved how many hummingbird hawk-moths they attracted, and was probably overly giddy about it for Fitz’s taste, though he never complained about how often I extolled the magic of the graceful insects. I missed my best friend.
“That is odd. I wonder what changed his mind,” I responded, hoping to stave off the emotions swelling inside me regarding Fitz. It was weird to think that Charlotte would probably be my BFF here, emphasis on the forever part if I was D-E-A-D. Did that mean I should invite her over for tea and to embroider a pillow together?
“Oh, Lizzy, do not be so modest.”
“I assure you, it is not modesty.” The man was supposed to have snubbed me in a big, big way. “Although—” I grinned, feeling as if I should tell her the news of this morning before Lady Lucas did. “An invitation to dine at Netherfield tomorrow arrived at breakfast for Jane and me.”
Charlotte gasped. “Will the gentlemen be there?”
I nodded. “I believe so.”
“My advice to you, Lizzy, is to remember that in nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels.” Was that her catchphrase? She’d said the same thing to Elizabeth regarding Jane.
I wanted to tell her that was terrible advice, but she went on to say, “Women must always help men on in these matters.”
I giggled, even though I didn’t mean to. Not to say men couldn’t be dense in matters of the heart, but women could be too. Look at me. My best friend had supposedly been pining for me for years, and I hadn’t had a clue. Then again, he had hidden it well.
Thankfully, Charlotte didn’t take offense. “Lizzy, I am being practical. Mr. Darcy is a man of fashion and wealth.”
“But we know nothing of his character yet,” I said smartly, even though I knew darn well that he was a man of noble character.
Charlotte leaned into me. “True, but as far as I can tell, happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.”
It was no wonder that she ended up married to a man she obviously didn’t care for. I was familiar with her story, but to experience it all firsthand had me feeling very sorry for her, and for a moment I forgot to play along with the story. “Charlotte,” I said affectionately. “Happiness in marriage and life is a matter of choice.”
She blinked as if I were speaking a foreign language. “Our circumstances limit our choices, dear Lizzy,” she reminded me.
I could hear the heartbreak in her voice, which in turn broke my heart. I wanted to give her options, but how did I do that? There I went again, trying to fix things.
While we walked toward the orchard, I tried my best to avoid thinking of ways to find some single handsome men with excellent character whom I could introduce to Charlotte. But the fixer in me couldn’t help it. It was ridiculous, of course. Especially considering I didn’t really know anyone here. I wasn’t really Elizabeth Bennet, and Jane Austen would probably roll over in her grave if she could hear my thoughts.
“I do believe, though, that you will have a choice, Lizzy.” She pointed to a man trotting our way on a fine steed. And by man, I mean the man . What was it about a man on a horse in a cravat and coat? Oh, baby, come to Mama. Do not say that out loud, I reminded myself, but smiled because I totally would have said it out loud to Fitz. You know, if he hadn’t been a jerk. But back to reality, I mean my dream, or fantasy, or ... my afterlife. What was Mr. Darcy doing here? We were way, way off script. I wanted to yell out that it wasn’t my fault this time.
Mr. Darcy edged his horse forward at a faster pace until he reached us. My heart leaped. Every time I was near him, it was like having a missing piece of myself returned to me.
Mr. Darcy lowered his head in a slight bow upon his arrival. “Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas.”
“Mr. Darcy,” I said so breathily, I sounded like a fangirl. Okay, I was a fangirl.
Charlotte nudged me in an I told you so sort of way.
“We are walking,” I said lamely, flustered by his presence. “I like to walk,” I added, because I liked to make things as awkward as humanly possible.
Mr. Darcy dismounted his horse in a swift, sexy move. “I wonder if I might join you.” He was all confidence—just like you-know-who.
Oh, heavens, yes. Thankfully, that didn’t come out of my mouth, but neither did any other words. I just stared at Fitz, I mean Mr. Darcy. A silly thought came to me—maybe if Mr. Darcy and I got this party started, he wouldn’t mind if I called him Fitz, since his name was Fitzwilliam. Probably best to save that one until after we were married, though. Oh gosh, would I really get to marry him? I was getting way ahead of myself.
Charlotte came in clutch and spoke for both of us. She really was my BFF here. “We would be delighted.”
“Yes,” I blurted inelegantly.
Mr. Darcy gave me a hint of a smile before leading his horse to a nearby apple tree. A few rotten apples clung to some of the branches.
Charlotte and I exchanged meaningful glances while Mr. Darcy tied his big black steed to the tree. I kind of wished she could skedaddle, but I thought of what Lady Catherine had said about the rules of this time period. It would be scandalous for Mr. Darcy and me to be alone together. Scandalous but yummy, I thought. Stop thinking that way, Monroe. You are Elizabeth now. When Lydia shockingly ran off with Wickham, Elizabeth had been beside herself with worry, believing the scandal would ruin her family. Speaking of which, I should probably try to prevent that unfortunate event. What would it say about my character if I didn’t? I would worry about that after I made a fool of myself in front of Mr. Darcy.
It didn’t take long for him to join us. When he did, Charlotte did the best thing under the circumstances and held back while Mr. Darcy and I set off to walk through the orchard. Fallen leaves and soft ground muted our footsteps. The air smelled faintly of decay and apple cider.
“Are you well after your fall?” Mr. Darcy asked, making sure not to walk too closely.
“Yes, I am well. Thank you once again for coming to my aid. And again, I apologize for anything untoward I may have said.”
“It is understandable.”
I’m glad someone understood it.
“I must inquire, though, how you came to know Alastair Fitzroy.”
Did he really need to inquire? But wait a second ... “Do you know him?” What were the odds there was some guy running around in Pride and Prejudice with that name? Was he like an unnamed extra?
Mr. Darcy dipped his chin and looked down his nose at me with such severity, I shivered. Yep, I blew it. I knew I would.
“When you mistook me for him, I thought his name sounded familiar, and then remembered reading in the paper that the King had bestowed upon him the title of the Duke of Blackthorne.”
Crap! That’s right. Alastair had told me that one of the King Georges had given his ancestor and namesake the dukedom that Fitz inherited last year.
“I read it in the paper too,” I mumbled, like an idiot. What was I doing? Did Elizabeth Bennet read newspapers? I don’t remember that being mentioned in the book.
“You read the papers?”
I mean, if you counted online news sources, yes. It was important for me to stay up to date on world events and politics because Fitz loved to talk about those things, and I loved him. I hadn’t known how much I loved him until recently, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. Right now, I was screwing up the quintessential love story of all time—it was probably best to focus on that train wreck.
“Occasionally I do,” I stammered. “I feel it is important to stay current on local events and politics.” That was true in my real life, but schnikeys, what was I even saying? But did I stop there? Oh, no. “I just read about the new Duke of Blackthorne the other day and must have become confused after I fell off the horse.” That was it. Game over. Mr. Darcy would never speak to me again—I was the worst Elizabeth ever.
Mr. Darcy took a moment to study me with his broody, narrowed eyes, while Charlotte coughed in that Danger, Will Robinson sort of way. She probably thought I’d lost my mind too. It would be a miracle if I didn’t get sent to an asylum. I’d read my history—they weren’t good or helpful places during this time period.
My heart raced so hard, it made me feel lightheaded. But then ... something unexpected happened.
Mr. Darcy smiled—the kind of smile that reached his eyes, the kind of smile that made you feel weak in the knees, like the way I felt now.
“Miss Bennet, it is rare to be acquainted with a woman who finds interest in matters outside of music, art, dancing, and fashion. You see, I value a keen mind overall.”
That wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was better than “You’re insane.”
“And you believe I have a keen mind?” I didn’t know what else to say. No man had ever paid me such a compliment.
“I do.” He smiled, and we walked on. “I was wondering if you have read The Republic by Plato and what your thoughts are on the allegory of the cave.”
It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but perhaps it was the start of a beautiful relationship.