Chapter Twenty-Six
“Till this moment, I never knew myself.”
MONROE
MR. DARCY WAS GONE. HE didn’t write to tell me. Jane had to relay the news from Mr. Bingley. That was last week. Where he went, I couldn’t guess. I only knew I had single-handedly ruined one of the greatest stories of all time, and possibly my life—or afterlife. To deal with my failure, I’d taken to walking. Lots and lots of walking, much of it through mud. I couldn’t bear to be in the house, as Mrs. Bennet shook her head and complained about her nerves every time she saw me. I was clearly no longer a favorite. Jane and Mary now held that honor—Jane, who was surely on the verge of receiving a proposal, and Mary, who had captured the heart of Mr. Collins, saving them all from being turned out once Mr. Bennet died.
Oh yes, Mary and Mr. Collins were smitten with each other. If they weren’t singing duets, they were in deep discussion about moral reflections.
I’d been doing a lot of reflection too—contemplating things like: Why did I always make a mess of everything, and how did I get out of this place? More like, could I ever get out of this place? I’d even contemplated falling off a horse again—you know, like they do in some movies that have dream sequences. If this was a dream, it was more like a nightmare. I’d even shouted on one of my walks, “I get it now! Fixing things comes at a price. Can I please go home?” I waited for Mr. Roarke or even Agatha to show up and escort me back to Pride and Prejudice Park. No such luck. Of course, I’d prayed, but no answers there either, which made me fear I’d gone to hell. I thought I was a good person, but maybe all the disasters I’d caused in my lifetime counted against me.
I’d never felt so lost or alone in my life—or un-life. I just wanted to go home and watch Grease with Fitz and curl up with my cat. Not my cat here, which Lydia and Kitty had pretty much claimed as their own. It wasn’t a bad thing. At least it kept their minds off the officers in town.
Sweet Jane had tried several times to discuss what had happened with Mr. Darcy. But what was I supposed to say? There was no way I could tell the truth. On top of everything else, I didn’t need a trip to an asylum here, or to cause them to reinstate witch hunts in England.
Basically, all in all, it wasn’t a happy time. No good humor or cheerfulness to report here, unless you counted everyone else’s, and of course I did. I was pleased for Jane that I’d seemed to Darcy-proof her relationship with Bingley, and Mary and Mr. Collins were both happy. And it appeared I’d saved Lydia from an awful fate with Wickham. These were all good things. But in spite of all that, there was no happy ending because Elizabeth was still without Darcy. That was a travesty, especially because it was concrete proof I’d failed at being Elizabeth.
“Lizzy!” Charlotte called as I walked up the lane to the house. I’d been walking for hours now and was so cold, I could barely feel my extremities. My nose was so frozen, I felt as if the tip of it might fall off. Even though I was uncomfortable, I wished I didn’t have to return to get ready for the Netherfield ball tonight, but Mrs. Bennet insisted I attend.
I turned to find Charlotte running my way, smiling so brightly I could feel the warmth of it.
“Hello, Charlotte.” I tried to keep most of the misery out of my voice. After all, it wasn’t her fault I’d basically told Mr. Darcy I was a stalker of the creepiest kind, suggesting I’d been spying on him like Miss Bingley had accused. Surely that dear had been having a great laugh at my expense for the last several days. She had probably done her best to abuse me severely in front of Mr. Darcy. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d helped him pack his belongings and sent him on his journey far away from me.
“Oh, Lizzy.” Charlotte ran up to me and kissed my cheeks. “I have some news to share with you.”
I perked up a bit. Had Mr. Darcy returned? “What news?”
Charlotte linked our arms together, beaming. “Mr. Rutledge has proposed.”
“Really?” I hadn’t thought they’d hit it off.
She wrinkled her nose, offended by my astonishment.
“Charlotte, please forgive me. I am just surprised because you have not spoken of him since you danced with him a fortnight ago.”
Her smile was back in full force. “Not that Mr. Rutledge. I speak of his father.”
Say what? When did that happen?
Without my asking, she obliged me with an answer. “After you mentioned to Mr. Rutledge that I was interested in learning more about his mercantile shop, he told his father, who has recently lost his wife. Mr. Rutledge, the father, sought me out when I visited the shop, and we fell easily into conversation. He spoke to my father just today, and now we are engaged. I know he is much older than I am, but I do believe I will be as happy with him as I would be with anyone else.”
I believed her. “Charlotte.” I hugged her. “I am truly happy for you.”
“It is all because of you.” She squeezed me tight. “I only hope you can find such happiness.”
I choked back the tears and the deep sadness brewing inside of me. But it helped me to remember that I did have a happy life. Sure, my fiancé dumped me because I tried to fix his career, and my best friend and the love of my life only wanted me if I changed myself. But on the whole, I’d been happy.
“Thank you,” was all I could think to reply.
She kissed my cheeks again and rushed off. I had to say, I hadn’t seen that relationship coming. I had a feeling Mrs. Bennet hadn’t either, and she was going to be livid that the Lucas’s daughter was engaged before any of hers. She was already upset that it had been Lady Lucas who’d gleefully shared with her the news of Mr. Darcy’s departure.
I walked into the house, the hem of my dress covered in mud. Mrs. Hill shook her head at me and barked at Hannah to help me.
Sweet Hannah followed me up the stairs while laughter rang throughout the halls. Everyone was excited about the ball. We entered the room I shared with Jane to find her already dressed in a beautiful ivory gown.
“How do I look, Lizzy?” Jane blushed.
“Like a vision.”
Jane smiled and sat down in front of the vanity. “Did you hear that Lady Catherine de Bourgh will be at the ball tonight?”
I grabbed the nearest wall for support. The last person I needed to see was Lady Catherine, a.k.a. Agatha. “Where did you hear that?”
“From Mr. Collins, of course. He received a letter today from his patroness.”
“Why would she come here?”
“She said she received a most alarming report but would say no more on the matter, according to Mr. Collins.”
“She gave no hint?” That report should have been about me, but that couldn’t be the case any longer. Mr. Darcy wasn’t here. Was he involved with someone else? It made no sense—not that any of this had. I’d basically turned Pride and Prejudice into some rom-com, with Mr. Collins and Mary singing all the time and me fumbling my part. I had one job here, and I completely blew it.
Jane shook her head and smiled. “But Mr. Collins is in a right state about it. He instructed us all to wear our very best.”
And that is what I did, although I wanted nothing more than to soak in a dirty, lukewarm tub all night, throwing a pity party for one. Unfortunately, that was the only kind of bath available to me in this place. You don’t know how much I missed clean, hot water and my breakup playlist. Oh, and ice cream and cookies with refined sugar. I needed them all in this post–Mr. Darcy phase.
Dressed in my prettiest pink dress, I walked downstairs to find Mr. Bennet waiting for me. “A moment, Lizzy, if you please.”
I nodded and followed him to the drawing room, where it looked like he would spend his time while we were out. A plate of cheese and bread and a bottle of wine awaited him by his chair. His night looked much better than mine—I could do with stuffing my face full of bread and cheese.
Mr. Bennet took my hand and deposited me in the chair across from him in front of the low-burning fire. He took his seat and gave me an appraising sort of look. “My dearest Lizzy, I hate to see you so unhappy. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction among her companions.”
I smiled only because I got to hear that line firsthand, but ... “Papa,” I cried. “I do not wish to be crossed in love.”
His eyes widened in alarm as he gathered my hands in his. “Lizzy, my love. I did not know your attachment to Mr. Darcy ran so deeply.”
I wasn’t crying about Mr. Darcy. Not to say the turn of events surrounding him didn’t upset me, but it felt as if everything was closing in on me, and I didn’t know what to do. Who was I, even? “Papa, what if I am not your Lizzy?”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, Daughter?”
I let out a long sigh. “I fear I am not who I should be.”
“Lizzy, who do you want to be?” he asked sagely.
For a moment, I swear he sounded like Davis Gray, the man playing Mr. Bennet, and not the Mr. Bennet. That sounded super psychedelic, but I swear it was true.
I didn’t get to answer him, as Mrs. Bennet strolled in and said, “Hurry, Lizzy, it is time .” Did she sound more like Laila Gray than Mrs. Bennet? Had I finally lost it?
I stood automatically, feeling like I was in a bit of a daze. Mr. Bennet hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You are loved.”
His words warmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in days.
Hannah helped me into my coat before I walked out into the cold evening and entered the carriage, where everyone but Lydia was waiting. “Where is Lydia?”
“She could not bear to leave Duke,” Kitty answered, pouting about it.
I smiled, relieved my “baby” sister would not attend the ball.
“Cousin, we must hurry,” Mr. Collins scolded. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh awaits.”
Yippee. I took my seat near Jane in the crowded carriage. At least the collective body heat helped stave off the cold.
I held Jane’s hand on the bumpy ride to Netherfield, lost in my thoughts. Who did I want to be? Did I have a choice in this place?
It didn’t take too long for us to arrive at Netherfield— too long being a relative term. I missed modern transportation. I would never complain about traffic again, if I ever made it back. I would just be thankful for the comfort of my car.
Mr. Collins practically hurled himself out of the carriage in search of Lady Catherine. As much as he’d surprised me, he was still a silly man. Mary followed after him, even though the rules of the day said Mrs. Bennet should have exited first. I wished I could have stayed in the carriage, but I feared hypothermia, so I exited after Jane, with the help of a footman.
We walked in to find a large gathering of people and an orchestra playing in the background. This was a much grander affair than the Meryton assembly. Nerves coursed through me as we made our way to the ballroom. All my relations dispersed in different directions, even Jane. I needed her to be my emotional support person—I dreaded seeing Lady Catherine and Miss Bingley, who probably couldn’t wait to lord over my head the fact that Mr. Darcy hated me.
Alone, I entered the elegantly decorated ballroom that smelled enchantingly of white roses and the earthy aroma of ivy, both of which were draped upon every surface imaginable. Soft candlelight danced and flickered, casting a warm and mesmerizing glow throughout the space. I felt as if I’d entered a fairy tale. At this point, it wouldn’t shock me if that were the case.
Unfortunately, the wicked stepmother had come to call in the form of Lady Catherine. As soon as I walked into the ballroom, Mr. Collins pointed me out to her. The traitor—after I’d given him a future wife who actually liked him. Where were the thanks?
Of course, Lady Catherine looked just like Agatha. She was wearing a purple velvet gown that swished violently as she marched over to me with her Dame Judi Dench wig, not to mention her grumpy face.
What had I ever done to her? Or ... was she finally here to inform me I was getting booted off Fantasy Island ? Please, please, let that be it.
Nope. She was definitely not Mr. Roarke’s counterpart.
“Miss Bennet,” she said, haughtier than I’d ever heard anyone speak, and that was saying something since I knew Fitz’s mum and Lady Winnifred.
“You can be at no loss as to why I, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, have made this journey to see you. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I came.”
Uh ... I was at a loss. Mr. Darcy hated me, and there would be no coming back from it. I knew things I shouldn’t know, and there was no way he was getting over that. I responded with part of a line straight from the book. “Indeed, you are mistaken, madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honor of seeing you here, especially as we have not been formally introduced.”
“Insolent girl. Walk with me.”
This was going to be fun.
We walked through the crowded ballroom, and as we did, I caught sight of Mr. Bingley and Jane engrossed in conversation, clearly happy. Charlotte was there with her much-older fiancé, looking relieved she would no longer be considered a burden to her parents. Mary and Mr. Collins headed to the pianoforte, probably to sing a number or two. The absence of Lydia running around making a fool of herself wasn’t lost on me. Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips sat in quiet conversation with each other instead of drawing attention to themselves. The biggest surprise of all was Mr. Wickham in the corner, chatting it up with Caroline Bingley, who seemed to be smiling and flirting with him. What? Was I hallucinating?
It was like I had repaired every problem, even making sure Caroline Bingley got her comeuppance for being so awful. Well, I hadn’t fixed everything—I’d messed up the biggest part of the story. No happy ending for Elizabeth. My heart sank.
Lady Catherine led us to Netherfield’s drawing room, a place where I had spent hours talking to Mr. Darcy about politics and poetry. I’d even impressed him with my musical skill on the pianoforte in the corner of the room. How had it all gone so wrong? I’d only wanted to protect Lydia and the Bennets.
Lady Catherine wasted no time berating me once we entered the room. She turned dramatically and said, “I received an alarming report about you and my nephew.”
“Which nephew?” I smirked. I mean, she could have more than one for all I knew. Jane Austen could have left that detail out of the story.
“You impertinent girl. You know I speak of Mr. Darcy.”
“What about him?”
Her face turned so red, I thought it would explode. “Do not play ignorant. You know he wishes to engage himself to you.”
I didn’t know the source of her declaration. “I think you are mistaken.”
“She is not,” Mr. Darcy said.
I twirled around so fast, I felt dizzy. “Mr. Darcy,” I said breathlessly as I took him in, standing by the door, looking as freaking hot as ever. That blue jacket and the cravat were totally him. His hair was even extra mussy. It reminded me so much of Fitz. They were so similar, but then, not really. Fitz would have never left me, even if I claimed to know his family’s deep, dark secret. But I couldn’t think of that at the moment. It was too confusing.
“Fitzwilliam,” Lady Catherine screeched. “You know it was your mother’s and my dearest wish for our children to be united.”
Mr. Darcy kept his eyes trained on me. “I am aware, but it has never been my wish.”
“And who is this woman? What are her connections?”
Mr. Darcy strode my way, carefully but forcefully. It was pretty dang sexy.
“This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I am a gentleman, and she is a gentleman’s daughter,” Mr. Darcy answered.
I think this meant I had done it. I was not only an Elizabeth, I was the Elizabeth.
Lady Catherine tsked in disgust and bustled out of the room.
I wasn’t sad to see her go.
“Miss Elizabeth, I apologize for my aunt’s incivility.” He stepped closer and took my hand.
My hand was covered by a glove, so it wasn’t quite as intimate as it could have been, but I wasn’t complaining. My heart certainly pitter-pattered.
Mr. Darcy drew me closer to him with the most intense gaze. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” He spoke Darcy really well.
Say what? Was this really happening? Where had he been? What had changed?
I opened my mouth to speak, but Mr. Darcy wasn’t through.
“Despite your lack of connections, your mother’s irreverence, and your meddlesome ways, I cannot deny my feelings for you. Behaving in a forward manner at times, pushing your sisters into the spotlight, orchestrating your friends’ matches, and knowing things you should not are all considerations I must overlook in the face of my attachment to you.” He pulled me to him, and without warning, his soft lips pressed against mine and moved over them with such intensity, I almost forgot for a moment what he’d just said. All I could think was, Mr. Darcy is kissing me, and he loves me. I leaned into him and grabbed his lapels—I was totally going for it. How often do you get to kiss Mr. Darcy? Not even Elizabeth had such pleasure in the book.
Scandalously, Mr. Darcy deepened the kiss while the back of his hand gently caressed my cheek. A soft tingling sensation spread throughout my body, like a trail of electric sparks. Wow. I was the best Elizabeth ever. Except ... I wasn’t Elizabeth. I pulled away from Mr. Darcy, allowing his words to sink into my heart and soul, helping me return to myself even though I knew it would ruin the story.
He swallowed hard. “Forgive me for being so forward, my dearest Elizabeth.”
“I am not Elizabeth. And I do not want to be loved despite who I am.” I didn’t think she did either. Wasn’t she willing to walk away from Mr. Darcy knowing the consequences? She was true to herself, and that’s what I wanted to be. “I want to be loved for who I am.”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
It took me a moment to remember, but remember I did. “I am Monroe,” I cried. “I just realized that she is all I ever wanted to be. I want to be loved for my imperfections and crazy, try-to-fix-everything-only-to-fail ways. I just want to be Monroe.