Chapter Five
Elizabeth
The following morning, a bird sang outside, but Elizabeth experienced no cheer at the sound as she usually did. Instead, dread assaulted her like an unexpected wave on a sunny day at the beach.
In the garden, surrounded by urgency and the fortune hunters closing in on Mr Darcy like predators, her declaration had possessed a certain terrible logic. She had seen a threat and acted to neutralise it, impulsively, yes, but with clear purpose.
Now, in the cold clarity of dawn, she could scarcely comprehend what she had done.
She was engaged to a gentleman she had just met. All because she had opened her mouth without thinking the consequences through. She had acted to prevent his entrapment. Instead, she had ensnared them both.
A soft knock preceded Jane’s entrance. “Lizzy? Are you awake?”
She sat up, pressing her fingers against her temples where a dull ache had taken up residence. “Unfortunately.”
Jane crossed to the window and drew back the curtains fully, revealing a sky that had no business being so cheerful given the catastrophe Elizabeth faced.
“Breakfast is ready downstairs. Mama has been asking for you. She wishes to discuss wedding arrangements.”
She grabbed her sister’s hand, as if seeking something to hold on to. “Jane, no. Please tell me this is some nightmare from which I shall wake presently.”
Her sister settled on the edge of the bed, taking Elizabeth’s hand between both of hers. The gesture, so familiar and comforting, threatened to undo what remained of her fragile composure.
“I wish I could offer such reassurance. But I fear the situation is quite real. The news has spread with remarkable speed. Mrs Smith called early this morning, ostensibly to return a borrowed book, but really to extend her congratulations. Aunt Ahearn has already turned away three more visitors, all bearing similarly transparent pretences.”
Elizabeth shuddered against the tide of mortification. “The entire town knows.”
“They do. Mrs Smith mentioned hearing of it from her cousin, who learnt of it from someone who was not even present at the garden party. Gossip travels faster than any mail coach, it seems.”
“What am I to do?”
“Come downstairs. Eat something, even if you have no appetite. We shall face this together, as we always have.”
The breakfast room proved less an ordeal than Elizabeth had anticipated, largely because Mrs Bennet’s enthusiastic planning consumed most conversation.
Wedding dates, the superiority of English lace over Irish, whether the ceremony should take place in Hertfordshire or Derbyshire—all received equal weight in her mother’s endless discourse whilst she pushed eggs about her plate without managing to swallow a single bite.
Mary observed her from across the table with sympathy and Wilhelmina, seated to Elizabeth’s right, occasionally pressed her arm in silent support. Even these small kindnesses felt almost too much to bear.
When breakfast finally concluded, Jane extracted Elizabeth from their mother’s continuing monologue in her efficient manner. “Mama, I believe Lizzy requires some air. We shall take a turn about the garden.”
“Not too long a turn,” Mrs Bennet cautioned, too absorbed in her matrimonial calculations to truly attend to them.
“Mr Darcy will surely be calling today, and Elizabeth must be present to receive him properly. First impressions after an engagement are nearly as important as first impressions before one!”
Of course he would call, Elizabeth reminded herself. They had matters to discuss. Terrible, mortifying matters that must be addressed before this charade progressed any further.
Jane led her not to the garden but to the private sitting room on the first floor, where Mary and their cousin already waited. The moment the door closed behind them, her composure shattered.
She gulped down a lump that had sat in her throat since waking. “I have ruined everything. He will despise me for this. How could I have been so foolish? So impulsive? I acted without thinking, and now—now—”
“Tell us what happened,” Jane encouraged, guiding her to the sofa. “From the beginning. We know you announced an engagement, but not why or how it came about.”
Elizabeth drew a shaky breath and began narrating what occurred in disordered fragments. Her overhearing Mrs Thorne and her granddaughters plotting in the grove, their scheme to trap Mr Darcy in a compromising situation and so on.
“They were herding him towards the house and I could see he was uncomfortable. He knew something was wrong, but he could not determine how to extricate himself without causing a scene. And I remembered our earlier conversation, how kind he had been about Lucas Lodge, and I thought I could do the same for him.”
“So you intervened,” Mary said.
“I tried to create an excuse for him to leave their company but Mrs Thorne saw through it and would not yield. She pressed harder, insisting they were escorting him to the library. And I panicked.”
“That is when you announced the engagement,” Wilhelmina supplied.
“Yes.” Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. “I hoped it would create enough confusion for Mr Darcy to escape, that perhaps we could quietly retract the statement once they had withdrawn. But then Lydia shrieked it across the entire garden.”
She could still hear that piercing voice: Lizzy, you’re engaged to Mr Darcy?! Loud enough to reach every corner of the party, to transform a desperate improvisation into public declaration.
“Once Lydia announced it to the entire party, and everyone began congratulating us, there was no taking it back. Not without creating an enormous scandal that would damage us both irreparably.”
Jane wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, Lizzy. You were only trying to be helpful.”
“And instead I have trapped us both in an impossible situation.” Tears finally spilled over, hot against her cheeks. “The news has spread everywhere now. There is no containing it, no quietly setting matters right. I have ruined his life and my own through sheer foolish impulsiveness.”
“You have not ruined anything,” Wilhelmina replied. “Those women truly did mean to compromise Mr Darcy. What you did prevented something far worse than gossip.”
“At the cost of our reputations.”
Mary looked thoughtful. “You acted with good intentions. Mr Darcy must recognise that, else why would he have supported your claim? He could have denied it immediately, yet he chose to corroborate your words instead.”
That same fact had been circling Elizabeth’s mind since she woke. Mr Darcy had possessed every opportunity to expose her fabrication, to declare before all those witnesses that no engagement existed. Instead, he had said: Indeed. Miss Bennet is quite correct. We are engaged.
He had chosen to protect her in that moment, even at tremendous cost to himself.
“I owe him an apology,” she murmured. “A profound one. And I must discover what he wishes to do about this disaster I have created.”
“Whatever happens,” Jane said, “we are with you, Lizzy. All of us. Whatever follows from this, you do not face it alone.”
Elizabeth looked up at her sisters and cousin through blurred vision. Their faces held nothing but concern, support and a steadfast loyalty that made her throat tighten with gratitude.
“How can you be so calm? I have created a scandal that may follow us all back to England. It may affect each of you by association.”
“Then we shall weather that storm together,” Wilhelmina declared. “You stood between Mr Darcy and direct harm yesterday. That required courage, even if the method proved imperfect.”
Mary nodded. “Reputations can be repaired with time and care. What matters now is determining the best path forward.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, the door burst open without warning, admitting Lydia, Kitty, and Effie in a flurry of muslin and excitement that seemed to fill the entire room.
“Oh, we have been planning such wonderful things!” Lydia flung herself onto the sofa beside Elizabeth with remarkable exuberance.
“A spring wedding would be lovely, do you not think? Or perhaps summer, for better weather and more flowers. And you must have an entirely new wardrobe made, naturally, one cannot go to Pemberley in last season’s gowns.
I wonder if Mr Darcy’s estate has a proper ballroom for wedding celebrations? It must, surely.”
“Lizzy needs rest, not wedding speculation.” Jane rose, her gentle firmness brooking no argument. “Perhaps you three might explore the gardens instead? The morning is fine, and Aunt Ahearn mentioned the roses are particularly beautiful this week.”
Kitty opened her mouth to protest, caught Jane’s expression, and subsided. “Oh. Yes, of course. I suppose we can discuss ballrooms amongst ourselves. Come, Lydia, Effie.”
They departed with considerably less enthusiasm than they had arrived, Lydia casting disappointed glances over her shoulder until the door closed behind them.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered.
“They mean well,” Jane replied, resuming her seat. “But their excitement serves no useful purpose at present.”
The morning dragged on with agonising slowness. More callers arrived, each one deflected by the household staff with variations of the same polite excuse: the family was resting after yesterday’s exertions and could not receive visitors.
Elizabeth remained sequestered in the sitting room, too anxious to read, too restless to sit still for more than a few moments. She paced to the window, stared unseeing at the garden, returned to the sofa, then rose again to repeat the circuit.
When the mantel clock chimed eleven, Mary glanced up from the book she had been reading. “Mr Darcy should arrive soon.”
“I hope that is indeed the case.”
A commotion below stairs signalled his arrival. Mrs Bennet’s effusive greeting carried upward, closely followed by Mr Darcy’s deeper tones responding with appropriate courtesy.