Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
elizabeth
“Mrs. Collins and her sister have gone into town this morning to do some shopping for ribbons for their bonnets,” said Mr. Collins as I came into the breakfast parlor that morning.
Right, yes, that was what he said every morning. I sat down heavily at the table and gave him a wan smile.
Last night—or not last night, as the case may be—after Charlotte had denied Mr. Darcy’s offer of marriage, the dinner had gone rather strangely at Rosings. Mr. Darcy had attempted to engage me in conversation throughout the evening, but I had largely ignored him, because, after all, I hated him. He was horrible and thought far too well of himself and all he seemed to do was to take advantage of people.
I would not put it past the universe itself to have cursed him to live this day out over and over again, just to teach him a lesson. He should learn to be humble and to think of others besides himself.
Why had I gotten caught up in this curse, however? Why was this happening to me?
Mr. Collins was speaking to me, “They wished to go quite early so that Mrs. Collins could be back in time to accompany me on my outing to visit a few sickly members of the church.”
“Of course,” I said. He said that every morning.
Suddenly, Mr. Darcy loomed in the doorway to the breakfast parlor. He was not entirely dressed. He had no waistcoat beneath his jacket (which was unbuttoned) and he was in the middle of tying his cravat.
“Sir, please!” came the cry of a servant, who pushed past Mr. Darcy. Out of breath, the servant puffed, “Mr. Darcy has come to call.”
“This is quite irregular,” said Mr. Collins, looking up at him.
“Yes, sorry about that,” said Mr. Darcy. He looked around the room. “Where is your wife, Mr. Collins?”
“Town,” I said. “Shopping for ribbons. Every Thursday, I wake to find that Charlotte and Maria are out buying ribbons.”
“Every Thursday?” said Mr. Collins. “No, no, just today, Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Darcy finished tying his cravat. “I see,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Town, you say? Well, I guess I’m off to find her. Do you know which shop?”
“Why are you doing that?” I said. “What do you care about Charlotte?”
“I’m conducting an experiment, Miss Bennet,” he said. “I should think that was obvious.”
“What sort of experiment?” said Mr. Collins.
Mr. Darcy ignored him. “You didn’t see her this morning, I suppose?”
“Me?” I said. “No, I never do. I wake, I come out here, and it’s only Mr. Collins.”
“Mmm,” said Mr. Darcy. “Well, that’s not promising, I must say, but it’s also hardly decisive either way.” He walked out of the breakfast parlor.
“Did he just walk off without saying goodbye?” said Mr. Collins, affronted.
“Yes, pardon me, Mr. Collins,” I said, going after Mr. Darcy. I found him going through the hallway, heading for the front door of the parsonage. “What sort of experiment?” I called.
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Come now, you’re more intelligent than that, Miss Bennet. You know what sort of experiment.”
“You think that since she refused your offer of marriage, she’s going to be living this day again, too, like us?”
He shrugged.
I should like to have Charlotte’s company if I was cursed in this way, I supposed. “I shall accompany you to town,” I said.
He shrugged again. “All right.”
I followed behind him as we both quit the parsonage. Servants turned to gape at us as we did. It was really quite out of ordinary for a man like Mr. Darcy to appear as he did or for the two of us to go wandering off together in this manner. But they all seemed too shocked to say anything.
Outside, Mr. Darcy looked this way and that. “It’s really quite early in the morning for ribbon shopping.”
“I agree,” I said. “But if all is going as normal, we could start walking for town and would likely meet them walking back, because they do tend to return rather soon.”
“Walking?” He sighed. “I’d much rather take horses.”
“Heavens, no,” I said. “I’m not riding a horse.”
He gave me a look.
“I’m not frightened of horses!” I said, with some heat.
“No one accused you of being frightened of horses, Miss Bennet,” he said, blinking at me.
“Well, that is because I am not,” I said. “But, all the same, I think it mad to get upon the back of one of those beasts.”
He regarded me for a moment and then burst out laughing.
I folded my arms over my chest.
“You are funny, Miss Bennet,” he said, giving me a wide grin. “One really wonders how I did not notice.”
“That was not a joke,” I said. “Horses are quite dangerous beasts.”
Mr. Darcy made a face and reached up to loosen his cravat.
“You know, you really aren’t that proper, are you?” I said. “One really wonders how I did not notice that .”
“Oh, I am proper,” he said. “Or I used to be. Twenty Thursdays ago, I was the paragon of good breeding and social niceties.” He untied the cravat entirely. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to live one’s life with something tightly tied round one’s neck at all times, Miss Bennet. Truly, women have it so much easier than men.” He started walking.
“Women have it easier than men?” I exclaimed.
He turned back to me. “We shall walk, if you please. I’m finding the idea of having someone around to please so gratifying that I can hardly think of any argument against doing whatever you wish. Come along, then.”
I hurried to catch up with him. “Women do not have it easier than men. Men have all the money, and if I were a man, I should not have to get married if I want to assure my very survival.”
He smirked. “Your survival, Miss Bennet? You exaggerate.”
“Not much,” I said.
“Besides, you seem to be one for turning down marriage proposals.”
“Oh!” I scoffed. “Well, that isn’t fair.”
“You could have been Mrs. Collins, I understand.”
I didn’t say anything to that. I simply fumed. I considered not walking with him, going back to the parsonage. But, truly, Mr. Collins was such horrible company even when he wasn’t merely parroting a script I had heard for three Thursdays in a row, that knowing I would know everything out of his mouth this fourth time through was too much to bear. I hated Mr. Darcy, but I hated Mr. Collins more.
And, honestly, I should break in here to say that I didn’t often hate people. I wasn’t like my sister Jane, who saw the good in literally everyone and hated absolutely nobody, but I was generally a sweetly dispositioned person who dearly loved to laugh and was mostly of good cheer.
It was just that Mr. Darcy was the worst person in the entire world.
Well, with the exception of Mr. Collins.
All right, maybe I was hard on people. Maybe I had exacting standards.
Was that why I was cursed?
Fine. I would be happy to repent of it and see everyone in a positive light if only I could see Friday, April tenth. I gazed heavenward, sending up a silent prayer and promise.
“I suppose that would be awful,” said Mr. Darcy. “Being married to that man. I am sorry for having said that to you. You definitely should be able to do better.”
“But not nearly as good as you, of course,” I retorted, sarcastic.
“Well, naturally, Miss Bennet. I am the grandson of an earl,” he said witheringly.
I let out a noise of disbelief. “On second thought, I shall simply go back and take my chances with Mr. Collins. You are absolutely horrid, Mr. Darcy. I cannot stand being near you.” Normally, I would not say something so bald to anyone at all, but there was something about all of this—first, Mr. Darcy’s relative lack of formality, and second, the repetition of Thursdays—that had caused me to lose a great deal of self-control.
I stopped walking and turned back around to go back to the parsonage.
He caught my arm.
I turned to look at him in shock. He had touched me.
“Oh, my apologies,” he muttered. “You’re not wearing gloves, you know.”
I looked down at my hands. “W-well, we left in quite a hurry. I didn’t have a chance—”
“I’m only saying we are breaking a number of social expectations, Miss Bennet. We shouldn’t even be alone together, let alone without cravats and gloves—”
“You don’t have a waistcoat either,” I pointed out.
“Exactly,” he said. “So, I hardly think you need to get out of sorts about my hand on your arm. Anyway, don’t go. I haven’t had a conversation with someone who I thought would remember it tomorrow in some time. I am enjoying it. Please. I’m sorry if I’m impossible to stand being near, I suppose. Should I not have pointed out the fact that we do not travel in the same social circles?”
“Except we do, sir,” I said tartly. “In fact, it seems that our social circles seem to cross quite often. Witness the fact, for instance, that we are both here, in Kent.”
He considered. “Sort of, I suppose. But I couldn’t really marry you, you know.”
“Well, I would never marry you.”
“Yes, I got that message,” he said. “If anyone had any right to have hurt feelings, you know, it would be me. You were exceedingly cruel when you refused me.”
I gasped. “Cruel? I don’t think I was.”
“You said you wouldn’t marry me if I was the last man on earth.”
“I don’t think I said that.”
“Something like that,” he said.
“Well, I suppose it’s true, no matter what it was I said,” I sighed. “But I am sorry if I hurt your feelings. It’s only that you weren’t really in love with me anyway, so I can’t see why it matters what I said.”
“Yes, just so,” he said with a nod. “My thoughts exactly. Except it was rather bracing. I can’t say it hurt my feelings precisely, but it was unpleasant. I shan’t ever do that again, that’s for certain.”
I glared at him. “Yes, well, no one wishes you to.” I started walking in the direction of the road.
He hurried to fall into step with me. “I am sorry. Again. I’ve apologize before, but I shall keep at it, as long as I must, and I shan’t even point out how many times I’ve apologized.”
I clenched my hands into fists.
“Here it is, Miss Bennet, I must say that I am not in love with you ardently or otherwise, but that I do think you are likely the smartest woman I’ve met in my life and probably the best conversationalist I’ve ever known, amongst men or women, and I think you’re very funny. So, I like you, you know. I see that you don’t like me, but I wish you would.”
I stopped walking and gaped at him.
He flushed, a stain of red over his cheeks and his neck. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, casting his gaze down. He had rather large hands, didn’t he? He walked past me. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I seem to have forgotten how to carry on with another human being since I got stuck repeating Thursdays. That was dreadful. Perhaps we could pretend I didn’t say it?”
I started walking again. “I shall try, then.”
“Try?”
“To like you,” I said. “Well, within reason, anyway. You have done a number of very terrible things, you know.”
“Is this about Wickham?” He glanced at me. “Wickham is a liar, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, he said you’d say that.”
Mr. Darcy huffed in indignation. “I wonder if I kill someone if it sticks. Would he just be reborn tomorrow morning?”
“Kill him!” I said, horrified.
“Oh, Lord, Miss Bennet, you know nothing about Mr. Wickham, I must say. If I were to explain—” But he stopped talking because Charlotte and Maria appeared, cresting over the top of the hill just ahead, coming in off the road from town. He waved at them, cupping a hand around his mouth. “Mrs. Collins!”
Charlotte and Maria saw them and waved back, but they did not hurry themselves towards them, only walked in the general direction rather slowly.
Mr. Darcy, therefore, took off at nearly a sprint towards them.
I supposed I wished to know if Charlotte had, in fact, also started living Thursdays over and over like the two of us did. I went quickly as well, hurrying over behind Mr. Darcy.
“What day is it?” Mr. Darcy was saying as I caught up to them.
“Why, it’s Thursday!” said Charlotte. “What are you doing out here so early, sir? And what has become of your cravat?”
“What day was yesterday?” said Mr. Darcy to Charlotte.
“Well, it was Wednesday, obviously.” Charlotte turned on me. “Elizabeth, you’re out here with Mr. Darcy. You have no gloves.” She glanced at her younger sister as if she would like to protect Maria from the scandalous influence of me without gloves.
“It didn’t work,” I said to Mr. Darcy.
“Doesn’t seem so, no,” he said. “You don’t remember my asking you to marry you, do you, Mrs. Collins?”
“What?” Charlotte looked very worried indeed. “What’s come over you, sir?”
Mr. Darcy sighed heavily.
Charlotte gestured with her head to me, her expression severe. “Elizabeth, why don’t you come back with us to the parsonage, hmm? Let us leave Mr. Darcy to recover from whatever may be afflicting him, for it seems that he must be in the throes of some sort of illness. Perhaps you are feverish, sir? You should lie down.”
I glanced at Charlotte and then back at Mr. Darcy.
He had jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and was looking rather crestfallen. I supposed he’d been hoping that getting Charlotte to refuse his offer of marriage was going to work. But overall, I didn’t see how that would help us, if everyone were stuck like us. We needed to get to Friday, that was how to solve this problem.
“I shall come along by and by,” I said to Charlotte.
“No, Elizabeth, you should not be out here with him, not when he’s in this sort of state,” said Charlotte to me.
Mr. Darcy waved me on. “Go on, then, Miss Bennet.”
“But we should discuss this,” I said.
“What’s there to discuss?” he said, with a shrug. “I already knew it wasn’t going to work, anyway. Last night, after dinner, I got Anne to refuse my offer of marriage, though it wasn’t easy. I had to say all manner of terrible things to her, things I won’t repeat, because they are not meant for a young maiden’s ears, and you are a young maiden. But she did refuse me, and she didn’t remember it either. So, I already knew, but I let myself think…” He groaned. He bowed his head.
“What is he going on about?” said Maria, eyes wide.
“He’s feverish,” said Charlotte, looping her arm with mine. “We shall send a servant to deliver him back to Rosings. We ought to keep our distance or we might catch his sickness. Come along, Elizabeth.”
“I really am fine here,” I said to Charlotte. Mr. Darcy was the only person who seemed, well, real , somehow. I didn’t wish to be parted from him.
“Just go, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy with a sigh.
Charlotte tugged on my arm.
I sighed, too. But I allowed her to lead me.
fitzwilliam
Mrs. Collins was as good as her word. I did have a servant from the parsonage to contend with. I was in a bit of a state, so I decided not to put up a fight. I allowed myself to be taken back to Rosings.
I did not go back to my room, though. Instead, I sat out on the steps on the front of the place and gazed out into the distance, and I felt despair again.
I’d been cycling in and out of it since all this started.
Obviously, I didn’t wish to believe that I was stuck living this dratted day over and over again. It went against all sense, and I must have lost my mind.
Except, it didn’t matter why it was happening, in the end. It was happening. I could not deny it.
So, all that really mattered was to make it stop happening.
But I’d had no luck with that.
So, then, I’d sort of given up. I didn’t know if I’d decided to give up, not exactly, but when I’d started to ask for various women’s hand in marriage, it had been an attempt to cope. I had given up. I would just have some fun, I had thought. Nothing mattered.
But then.
Her.
And now, well, it was one thing if I were the only person trapped in this hellish repetition, but it was quite another if there was someone else here with me. I could give up, I supposed, but leaving her to deal with this, leaving poor Miss Elizabeth Bennet to suffer, it seemed wrong.
I did like her, after all.
Of course, she also seemed like the sort who could take care of herself.
Still, I had sort of abandoned her this morning, and I should probably—
I looked up to see Colonel Fitzwilliam descending the steps. “Ho, there, Will.”
“Ho, there, Richard,” I said.
“Why are you sitting out on the steps?”
“Lovely morning?” I said.
He chuckled. “I’m off for a walk.”
Right. I got up. “Which way are you going?”
He glanced at me. “Coming along?”
“I am going towards the parsonage, I think, so if we are walking the same way, we could go together.”
“The parsonage.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Will, I happen to know that you’ve memorized her walking schedule and you usually accidentally-on-purpose run into her. We can run into her together this morning, I suppose.”
“Her,” I said, blinking at him in confusion.
He snorted and walked off without me.
I hurried to catch up to him. “Who are we talking about?”
He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you truly that dense that you haven’t realized it yourself? That would rather be like you, wouldn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, you can’t marry her either, of course,” he said. “Perhaps there’s no reason for you to realize it, in the end. I would save you the agony, if I could.”
“Agony.” I sighed.
“Why aren’t you wearing a cravat?”
“Just tell me what you’re going on about,” I said, annoyed.
“If I could marry her, I would. Regardless of your following her around and walking with her every morning.”
“You’re talking about Miss Bennet,” I said, because obviously that was who he was talking about. “You wish to marry her?”
“I can’t marry her, so I haven’t really thought it through,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know what sort of wife she’d be, anyway. Can you imagine, really? The way she was with our aunt, imagine that, but in a ballroom in London, and the way everyone would gasp.” He grinned at me. “‘We never had a governess,’” he said in a high-pitched voice.
I smiled, ducking down my head. “She’d be an intolerable sort of wife, yes.”
“Yes, but exciting, nonetheless,” he said. “And those lips of hers, they’re rather kissable—”
I shoved him. “Stop that.”
He chuckled. “Yes, she’s going to be right up there.” He pointed. “Just ahead. We should cease talking about her now.”
I let out a long, slow breath.
“Just so we’re clear, though, we’re not competing over her.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Neither of us can marry her.”
“I have no intention of marrying her,” I protested.
“Or kissing her,” he said, smirking.
“Obviously not,” I said, reaching up to tighten my cravat and finding it missing. I grimaced, for it was true that all of my propriety had bled away in the sea of neverending Thursdays.
I had kissed Anne, after all, several times, during some of those marriage proposals that I had issued to her. But none of them had been serious, of course, and none of the kisses had been real because she wasn’t going to remember them.
And anyway, I really didn’t like kissing Anne. I only did it more than once to make sure that it really was that dreadful of an experience. Dry, bland sort of kisses, and she always pulled away as if she was worried I might try something else.
Which, of course, I wouldn’t.
I swallowed, stopping my movement, even as Colonel Fitzwilliam walked off without me. Well, it was more than propriety that kept me from taking liberties with women. I was simply not that sort of man. I nodded to myself, as if that would silence any arguments to the contrary, and then I caught up with Richard.
In moments, there she was.
When I had thought that she wasn’t handsome… why had I thought that?
Here, in the morning light, standing out on the new spring grass, her skirts flowing behind her, her countenance uplifted to the rays of warmth against her cheeks, I thought she was exceedingly fetching, actually.
Exceedingly.
I stood there, trying to swallow some sort of lump that had risen to my throat, and she greeted the colonel and he greeted her, and I simply stood there.
After some time, I went after them, trailing behind as they walked.
“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” she said to Richard, a hint of bitterness in her tone, for, of course, we were never to see Saturday.
“Oh, yes, if Darcy has his way,” said the colonel, glancing back at me. “He is used to having his way, though.”
I didn’t say anything.
The colonel grinned at me and then put his head quite close to Elizabeth’s. “He is used to it because he is rich and many others are poor. I speak feelingly.”
I snorted. “Yes, because you’re poor.”
“I’m a second son,” said the colonel, clutching his chest. “I have not the opportunities of a firstborn.”
Miss Bennet was smiling. “Come now, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring any thing you had a fancy for?”
He winced. “Home questions, I admit.” He smiled at me again. “But younger sons, you know, we do suffer. We cannot marry where we choose.”
She barely blinked at this. “You do keep saying that, don’t you?”
“Keep?” said the colonel, furrowing his brow.
She shook herself, looking at me and then straight ahead. “My apologies, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Of course you have never intimated before that you wished to marry me.”
The colonel sputtered, stopping his movement. “Now, wait one moment, Miss Bennet, I don’t believe that I said—”
“You cad,” I said to him, pushing past him. “You just said we were not in competition for her, and you’ve been doing this every Thursday.” I eyed her. “I suppose he doesn’t propose, though. If he did, you would have reacted differently when I proposed.”
“Wait, when you proposed? ” said the colonel.
Miss Bennet gazed at me. “He’s never proposed, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Well, that’s good,” said the colonel.
“And if he did, I would say no, on account of what you’re about to tell me, which is that he destroyed my sister’s happiness and bragged about it.”
“I don’t even know your sister,” said the colonel.
“I didn’t brag,” I said, spreading my hands. “I promise I didn’t do that.”
“He called it your triumph,” she said, glaring at me.
I bowed my head. “I’m sorry.”
She rolled her eyes, tossed her head, her rather pretty head, and she took off walking again.
The colonel gave me an odd look, and I put both hands on the top of my head and groaned. “Go on,” I said. “She prefers you to me, even though she already knows everything you’re going to say.” I gestured. “Go after her, then.”
He shrugged at me and did just exactly that.
I turned and walked towards the house, putting my back to both of them. She did not like me, and she was the only person I could have a real and true conversation with, the only person who would remember it if I spoke to her. What was I going to do about that?
But moments later, she was there, rushing after me, with Colonel Fitzwilliam rushing after her.
“Where are you going?” she said to me.
I looked over at her. “I don’t know. There’s nowhere to go, I suppose. Once I rode my horse all the way to Canterbury, and then I got a room at an inn, but when I woke, it was Thursday. At the inn. So, I just came back and when I got here, it was still Thursday. Because, it is always and forever Thursday, no matter what.”
“Oh,” she said. “Hmm. I see.”
“What are you two going on about?” said Richard.
“If we wish to speak, Miss Bennet, it will probably be more easily done without others around,” I said.
“Yes, truly, I have noticed that. It’s only that it’s improper for us to be alone together.”
“Ah, true,” I said. “Well, stay home from tea like usual, and I shall come to you then.”
She considered.
“If you’ll speak to me, that is,” I said.
“Stop whispering to each other,” huffed Richard, falling into step on the other side of me. “What are you talking about?”
“Later, then,” said Miss Bennet.
“Later,” I agreed.
“I say, you are both acting very strangely!” exclaimed Richard.
“Yes, we may have caught a fever,” said Miss Bennet idly. “I should go back to the parsonage and lie down.”
Richard furrowed his brow. “Well, I shall walk with you.”
“No need, you might catch it from me,” said Miss Bennet blandly.
“Of course I’m going to be chivalrous enough to walk with you,” said the colonel, going after her.
I watched them both go.