Chapter 5
As he stepped out onto the patio, he immediately saw Miss Elizabeth, though just barely.
She was standing with her back to the house and was as far from the door as she could be while still standing on the paving stones that made up the patio.
The light which spilled out of the door and windows did little to illuminate the shadows of that far corner.
Darcy quickly moved toward her. “Miss Elizabeth,” he said, “I must apologize.”
She turned toward him, and the little bit of light which made its way to her glinted off the tears in her eyes.
“What are you apologizing for? That I am a bastard? That I overheard myself called such? Or perhaps you are apologizing for the fact that I am not even worth thinking of.” She sighed.
“It matters little. I am used to such comments. They have no effect on me whatsoever. I merely wished to get a bit of fresh air.”
Mr. Darcy swiftly stepped closer to the lady. He lifted his finger to wipe away the single tear that was making its way down her cheek.
“I think the evidence is contradicting your statement,” he said. “You may wish they had no effect, but…” He held out his tear-stained glove as evidence to the contrary.
Miss Elizabeth sighed and turned back to look out over the dark garden. “I suppose I am not as immune as I would like to be,” she said. “But these tears are not just out of self-pity. I am afraid I have been altogether over-emotional ever since I learned who my father truly is.”
“May I ask who your father is?” Darcy asked.
“You may ask, but I have not told anyone that answer other than Mr. Bennet, since he knew all along,” she said.
“I imagine he must be quite wealthy if he arranged for you to be raised among such a prosperous family rather than simply sending you to the country to be raised by a nurse,” said Darcy.
Miss Elizabeth let out a sound that was half-way between a short laugh and a scoff. “Of a certainty,” she said.
She turned back to look at him. She had fewer tears in her eyes now, and her expression was thoughtful instead of pained as she studied his face.
He waited patiently, since it appeared that she was gathering her thoughts.
“It might interest you to know that my father considered two different gentlemen for the task of raising me. One, of course, was Mr. Bennet, who was clearly the final choice. The other option, however, was your father. If things had turned out just a bit different, I might have been raised as your sister.”
As she stared up at him, having just delivered such a stunning statement, Mr. Darcy once again caught a flash of the Duke of Essex’s face, mostly from the shape of her eyes. “Your father is the D…”
“Don’t say it,” she said. “Please don’t say it aloud. I will not be informing any of my neighbors of my true identity. I have not even told my mother or sisters. All anyone knows is that my father is very wealthy and that he paid Mr. Bennet handsomely to raise me as his own.”
“Why are you keeping it quiet?” Darcy asked. “I would imagine that if you have been treated poorly your whole life, it might be nice to finally show to all the world how impressive your lineage is.”
“It would feel nice,” she admitted. “I would feel vindicated and a little pleased at such a small revenge on those who have shunned me. That feeling would last for, maybe, a couple of days. It would be drowned out, however, by what followed. Everyone I have ever spoken to, or even nodded to, would presume on my acquaintance to claim some sort of relationship with someone of my rank. It would be absolutely dreadful to have those who have made my life hell turn around and claim that they were my friend all along.”
Darcy was shocked at such strong language coming from such a genteel lady, but it did not push him away.
Rather, the raw feeling she was displaying was, in his mind and heart, proof of the inexplicable connection they shared.
Though this was only their second meeting, she was comfortable enough in his presence to say what was truly in her heart rather than what was polite.
Additionally, he could relate to her sentiments. Though his own status was nowhere near hers, he had enough people presuming on a very slight acquaintance to claim friendship with him and to thereby gain social access to his uncle, the Earl of Matlock.
“I quite understand,” he said.
Miss Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. “You do?” she asked. He nodded. She smiled just a bit and said, “Thank you. Not even Mr. Bennet understood. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “Now, I am certain you are quite chilled by now. Shall I take you back inside?” He held out his arm, though he was not certain she would take it.
He was relieved when she not only took his arm, but she smiled as she did so. “Yes. Let us go back inside.”
As they walked toward the door, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Once inside, they did not separate. Mr. Darcy spent the next half-hour in the most delightful conversation with the lady.
Just before the evening came to a close, Miss Elizabeth said, “I am afraid this is farewell for some time.”
“I wouldn’t think so,” said Darcy. “I am planning to stay in the neighborhood for at least another month, possibly two.”
“But I am not,” she said. “My father will be collecting me to take me home, where I will take up my true identity. I will not be returning to Hertfordshire. At least not for a very, very long time.”
“I see,” said Darcy, calmly, though internally he was panicking. How could he let her go, not knowing when they would meet again?
“I suppose it is possible we shall meet again in London,” said Miss Elizabeth. “My father is to take me there in the winter. Though our plans are not yet set, I expect it will be toward the middle of January.”
Darcy knew that, even in London, they might not cross paths often. Though he frequently rubbed shoulders with barons, baronets, and the like, he had never been in company with any duke other than the Duke of Essex, and that was only a couple of times.
“I will simply have to hope,” he said.
“Yes,” she replied. “I believe that is all either of us can do.”
~~~~~
The two days after the party at Lucas Lodge were full of packing and planning as Elizabeth prepared to leave Longbourn. The night before she was to leave, Mr. Bennet called Elizabeth into his bookroom after dinner.
“I am going to miss you, my girl,” he said.
Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes. “And I will miss you,” she said. “You have always treated me as your daughter, so much so that despite the fact that I look nothing like you, I truly believed you were my father.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes became suspiciously watery, but he quickly blinked it away.
“As your father, at least your temporary father, I feel I must give you a few warnings about your new life. The Duke of Essex is a relatively good man, as far as dukes go, but anyone who was raised to such wealth and power will naturally be selfish. He will certainly treat you well, but he is not a particularly kind man.”
“But Uncle Brandon has always been kind to me,” said Elizabeth. “Why should that stop just because it is revealed that he is my father?”
“He has been kind to you, and he will likely continue to be kind to you. That does not mean that he is generally kind,” said Mr. Bennet.
“He is simply used to getting his way, to obtaining that which he desires. He does love you as well as such a man can, but you must remember that he is fundamentally selfish. He knows no other way.”
“Do you think I should have chosen to live elsewhere?” asked Elizabeth.
“I do not know,” said Mr. Bennet. “Having him introduce you to society in London will ensure you are accepted anywhere and everywhere, so it is certainly the easier path. I just wanted to warn you that he is not as kind as you think he is.”
“If that is the case, how are the two of you friends?” asked Elizabeth.
Mr. Bennet sighed. “To be honest, it has been many years since I considered him a friend. I am just a pawn to him, though he likely believes that he treats me like a friend.”
This was a perspective Elizabeth had not considered before. Uncle Brandon had always been cheerful and interested in her life, and she never looked much beyond that. She didn’t know how the two men treated each other when she was not around.
“Now that I am thinking about it, how did you even become friends with someone so high?” she asked.
“Before I met your mother, my father sent me to London for a couple of years to ‘complete my education.’ You see education for a gentleman has more to do with learning to socialize than actually learning information. Personally, I would rather have gone to university, but Father would not allow it.
“When I was in London, I met Darcy. Don’t ask me how. It must have been at a club or the gambling tables or something. Those days are very fuzzy and blurry in my memories. Though he was eight years my senior and already married, we became fast friends, since we shared a similar sense of humor.
“Darcy’s wealth placed him in a position where he had quite a few acquaintances among the peerage.
Somehow, he came to the attention of Lord Brandon, who was not yet duke at the time.
Darcy then introduced us to each other. I think having two such low friends made Lord Brandon feel magnanimous, so he kept in touch. ”
“Why have you never mentioned Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth.
Mr. Bennet shrugged. “There was no reason to. I haven’t seen him since I married your mother, though we wrote to each other occasionally until he died.”
Elizabeth wondered how many other friends Mr. Bennet had that she had never heard of. Then she shrugged away the thought. It did not matter.
“I appreciate the warning,” said Elizabeth. “Truly, I do. It will help me be more wary as I begin my new life. However, I cannot escape the fact that the Duke of Essex is my father, and he will be for the rest of my life. I will simply have to learn to live with whatever personality he has.”
“True enough,” said Mr. Bennet. “Please do remember, my dear girl, that I was your father for sixteen years. If you need a refuge, a place to feel comfortable, you are always welcome here.”
Elizabeth hugged Mr. Bennet, the man who was, in some sense, the only father she had ever known. “Thank you, Papa,” she said for the last time.
The next day, she set off for Pollaner, the duke’s estate in Essex, in the company of her father, a man she had begun to realize that she barely knew.