Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
fitzwilliam
We were yawning when the sun rose. We had been keeping each other awake, something that had necessitated sitting quite close to each other so that we could nudge the other if we noticed the other growing tired. We’d read for hours, passing the book back and forth, only pausing a few times to make trips back to get more wood for the fire from the woodpile that was behind Rosings.
I had put my hands on her in ways I likely oughtn’t have, clutching her shoulder to shake her once, and another time, I had touched her face in a way that might have been termed a caress.
But nothing had happened, in the end, and I could not say whether this was because I had kept myself in check, or whether it was because she did not like me, or whether it was because of being wrapped up in blankets around a fire in the out of doors.
Maybe it had been that discussion of George Wickham, if all things were taken in balance.
We got up and snuffed out the fire. We poured leftover tea on it and kicked dirt over the embers. We were laughing a lot at that point. Sometimes, being awake for a very long time can make everything seem funny. I’ve noticed it before, I have to admit, though usually staying up late is done in a bit of merriment.
After that, we basked in the sun, savoring our triumph.
It was Friday.
We had done it.
“Well, I suppose we should go to breakfast,” said Elizabeth, yawning and stretching. “And then we shall see how long we can stay awake. At some point we shall fall asleep, and then, when we wake up, we shall hope we can keep moving forward in time.”
“Yes,” I said. “Well, come to breakfast at Rosings, then?”
She laughed at me. “I can’t do that. Everyone would realize we’ve been together all night.”
“Right,” I said with a nod. “Yes, I suppose I would sort of have to marry you, wouldn’t I?”
She let out a guffaw.
“I mean, if I compromise you, Miss Bennet—” I broke off, grinning. “Yes, all right, I think I like that. Come with me to breakfast at Rosings, and I shall have no other choice but to own up to the consequences of my reckless behavior.” I had thought we’d be contemplating how kissable each other’s lips were in the darkness, but it was happening now, as the sun rose. Her lips were enticing, if I did say so myself.
“No,” she said. “I think you’ve forgotten I don’t wish to marry you.”
“Indeed,” I said, laughing again, because we were laughing rather a lot. “I had forgotten that.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You don’t think it worked, do you?”
“No, I do,” I said. “I believe we have made it to Friday, and I believe that we shall see, for the first time, what Friday is like in the morning.”
“But you think we shall fall asleep and wake up to Thursday again.”
“I…” I shrugged.
“Which is why you don’t care about parading me around Rosings after staying out all night with me.”
Was she right? Or did I wish to become trapped in a marriage with this woman? I shrugged. “Fine, I suppose we part ways, then. You sneak back into the parsonage, and I shall sneak back into Rosings. And if we have solved the problem, and we are living forwards from now on, we never have to speak to each other again.”
“Yes, you are leaving on Saturday, are you not?”
“Indeed,” I said. I held out my hand. “Very nice to have been stuck in a time rotation with you, Miss Bennet. Do have a wondrous life.”
She shook her head at me, but she laughed. We were laughing a lot. She took my hand and we shook. “Have a wondrous life, Mr. Darcy. Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I said, saluting her.
We did part ways.
I walked up to Rosings, and I did not bother sneaking in. Instead, I walked directly into the front door, where the servants who were moving about, taking ash buckets here and there and like, stopped to peer at me in confusion and I just saluted them as well.
I went into the breakfast parlor. It was too early for anything to be set out yet, but I sat down at the table and yawned.
Oh, God in heaven, was I going to fall asleep at the table? I stretched. Perhaps sitting was a bad idea.
I walked out of the breakfast parlor, wandering through the house, looking here and there until…
Through the window, I noticed Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas walking off in the direction of town.
Wait a moment, it couldn’t have…
I dashed back through the house until I found a servant. It was a footman, whistling as he made his way through the hallway. I stepped into his path.
He stopped short, alarmed. “S-sir?”
“What day is it?” I demanded.
“It’s, erm, it’s Thursday, sir,” he said.
“Thursday,” I said. “Are you absolutely certain?”
“I… fairly certain?” He cringed.
I asked three more servants, and they all said it was Thursday, and then I left the house and went down to the parsonage, and by the time I got into their breakfast parlor, I could hear Mr. Collins.
“….accompany me on my outing to visit a few sickly members of the church,” he was saying.
I hurried into the room to find Miss Bennet there, clutching her forehead. She looked up at me and burst into tears.
I held out a hand to her. “Oh, Miss Bennet, I’m ever so sorry,” I said.
She got up from the table and put her hand into mine.
I closed my hand around hers, fumbling about for a handkerchief. “I really thought it would be Friday.”
“We didn’t sleep ,” she said.
“No, I know,” I said. “I suppose that doesn’t matter.”
She let out a broken sound.
I did something mad. I folded her into my arms, and she pressed her face into my chest and she sobbed, and I ran my hand up and down over her hair, holding her against me, making soothing noises, telling her over and over just how sorry I was.
“Now, see here!” came Mr. Collins’s voice. “This is highly irregular.”
She broke away from me, wiping at her face.
I found my handkerchief and offered it to her.
She took it and dabbed at her eyes.
“Let’s go… somewhere,” I said.
She looked up at me with her wet, shining eyes, her lower lip trembling, and she nodded at me. “Yes, please.”
But I didn’t know where to take us.
So, we ended up seated on a bench on the grounds of Rosings, and I tugged her against me in a decidedly untoward way, putting my arm around her, but it was just… we were quite tired. It was all madness.
It didn’t mean… anything.
She pillowed her cheek in against my shoulder and I tucked my chin down against the top of her head and I said that we’d think of something else and she said that I had known it wouldn’t work and she should have listened to me.
“No, don’t listen to me,” I said, and I yawned. “No, you must be sure to keep believing we can fix this.”
“You have already given up, though,” she said.
“I have not,” I said, shutting my eyes. “No, I shall find some way to fix it all. For you, Miss Bennet. I can’t leave you trapped here in a sea of Thursdays.”
She groaned.
It was quiet and the sun was warm, but my eyes were still closed.
“Are you going to fall asleep, Mr. Darcy?” she said, yawning.
“No,” I assured her. “Definitely not.”
But, of course, I did.
elizabeth
“Elizabeth what is happening? ” came Charlotte’s voice.
I opened my eyes. It was later, perhaps an hour later, but I was still on the bench with Mr. Darcy. It was still Thursday.
Apparently, it was always going to be Thursday, and it did not matter if I slept or not. It must change from Thursday to Thursday at some point in the night, but who knew when. We could perhaps discover that by being around other people all night, if we wished, but did it matter, in the end?
Charlotte was standing in front of me, hands on her hips. Mr. Collins was behind her, rubbing his chin in consternation.
Mr. Darcy sat up, groggy. “Oh, dear.”
“It’s fine,” I said to him. “Apparently, going to sleep does not reset the day. It must just reset at some set time.”
“Maybe midnight?” he said. “Do you think midnight?”
“Could be,” I said. “We would need to—”
“Elizabeth, this is highly improper,” Charlotte said carefully.
“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Darcy, sighing. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Collins, obviously, we’re getting married.”
I glared at him. “What?”
“We’re asleep together on a bench, and I have my hands all over you. You are compromised, and I am marrying you. It’ll all reset tomorrow.”
I sighed. “Yes, it will, so why say anything at all?”
“Are you… all right?” said Charlotte.
Mr. Darcy shrugged at her. “She doesn’t like me. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Charlotte’s lips parted.
“Oh, heavens, Mr. Darcy,” I said.
“So, she’s not the least bit pleased to be trapped in this marriage with me, but… Elizabeth darling—I may call you Elizabeth, mayn’t I?—you must think of your family’s reputation.” He was smiling at me.
I pressed my lips together.
His smile widened. “Oh, I know! Let’s go tell my aunt. That’d be quite a bit of fun.”
I narrowed my eyes. “If you’re going to call me Elizabeth, certainly I can call you some kind of familiar name, yes?” Then I smiled at him. “How about Willie?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I see.”
“Yes, Wee Willie Darcy and I are to be married,” I said, getting up from the bench.
“Now, really, that’s a bit… do you even know what that means? ”
I stalked off, rolling my eyes.
“Elizabeth,” said Charlotte, falling into step with me, “if you don’t wish to marry Mr. Darcy, you can refuse him. But if you don’t like him why were you sleeping like that with him, all draped on him in that way? I’m very confused.”
Mr. Collins cleared his throat. “You know, I think this is all quite sudden, don’t you?”
Mr. Darcy hurried after us. “I assure you, Elizabeth, there’s nothing small about my, erm… Dash everything.”
I walked faster. “I, for one, am not really eager to hear Lady Catherine’s reaction to the happy news. I think I have a headache, in fact. I think I need to go back to my bed and nap.”
“Fine,” called Mr. Darcy after me. “We’ll tell her at tea.”
“Certainly we’ll sleep through tea,” I said.
He shrugged, yawning. “Well, assuming I do not sleep through tea, I shall be there.”
I groaned, walking even faster in the direction of the parsonage.
Charlotte struggled to keep up with me. “You really must tell me what happened! How is it that you came to be in Mr. Darcy’s company?”
“Oh, I told you that he burst in on us this morning,” said Mr. Collins, puffing a bit as he brought up the rear behind us. “She was very upset. He drew her into his arms and they ran off together.”
“Why were you upset, Lizzy?” said Charlotte. “I don’t understand at all.”
“I was upset because it’s still Thursday, Charlotte,” I said. “I was upset because Mr. Wickham, it turns out, is not a very nice man. I was upset because Mr. Darcy’s chest is very firm. And because having his arm around me like that—”
“All right, perhaps…” Charlotte cleared her throat. “You were saying about a nap?”
“Yes,” I muttered. “A nap is exactly what I need.”
But I did not really get to nap for very long. I had been up all night, and then slept for perhaps an hour on that bench with Mr. Darcy. Then I climbed into my bed at the parsonage and got perhaps two or three hours sleep before I was awakened by Charlotte.
Apparently, news of my impending nuptials to Mr. Darcy had reached Lady Catherine, and she was not pleased, not in the least.
So, my presence was requested at Rosings.
I tried to beg off the entire thing, for I found Lady Catherine trying under the best of circumstances, and this was far from that. I was tired. I was morose. I was feeling rather hopeless, in fact.
Charlotte, however, was exhibiting some anxiety about the entire business, which seemed to be exacerbated by her husband’s anxiety, which could only be because Mr. Collins wished sincerely never to displease his mistress, Lady Catherine. I found that I could not add to my friend’s distress by refusing to go and do the bidding of her ladyship.
It was foolish, of course.
Charlotte would never remember this!
However, it didn’t matter that, because even if she wouldn’t remember, I would have to watch her suffer in the present, and that was not even remotely pleasing.
So, I dressed and I made my way to Rosings. It was just after luncheon, still before tea, and I knew Mr. Darcy had claimed he would be there at tea, but I did not know if he would be there earlier. Perhaps he was napping, even now. It would be just like him to do so and to leave me all alone in this.
I was shown into a sitting room, all alone, even though I did not wish to be left here with no one’s company except Lady Catherine’s.
She was seated in a high-backed chair, her expression severe.
I curtsied and made to sit down.
“You may stand,” she said. “This will be brief. I am quite sure that what I have heard is nonsense.”
I straightened up. “Oh?”
“Yes, because I heard that my nephew has asked you to marry him.”
“You know, that is nonsense. He did not ask.”
“He did not.”
“No, he simply declared it this morning when we were discovered together, for he said he’d compromised me. I assure you, Lady Catherine, nothing happened between us.” I lifted my chin.
“Compromised you,” she repeated, looking concerned.
“Was that left out of the tale when it was brought to you?” I said.
“He would never do such a thing,” she said to me. “He is engaged to my daughter.”
I didn’t say anything. I stifled a yawn. Of all the Thursdays thus far, this was the longest.
“Well, what say you to that?”
“I say that if your ladyship is so convinced that your nephew is already betrothed, there can be no reason to think that he could have become betrothed to me.”
“All right, well, yes, it’s not so much a formal agreement with legally binding papers and all of that,” she said. “But he is meant for my Anne, and it would be impossible for him to marry you.”
“Well, there you have it, then,” I muttered. “Your ladyship has declared it impossible. So, let’s just tell Willie that, and we shall all forget the whole thing. By the way, I think I shall have a headache later during tea. Ever so sorry not to make it. If you’ll excuse me, then.” I turned to go.
“Stop where you are!” she thundered.
I did not stop. I kept going. “Yes, it’s all a misunderstanding, Lady Catherine. Please think no more on it!”
“Stop moving this instant.”
I stopped, sighing.
“Turn round, girl.”
I turned around.
“Did you call him Willie?”
“I should not have said that,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t know what came over me. It was awful. Perhaps I should go away and think on the things I’ve done. Somewhere all alone, I think.” I started to turn around again.
“He wishes to marry you,” she said. She sighed. “Well, of course he does. Look at you. The picture of health, and you are so quick-witted and pretty and what man doesn’t wish to rebel just a bit, especially with his choice of bride?”
“How about I just tell him that I’ve been apprised he’s already engaged?” I said. “I’ll go and do that now, shall I?” I rushed for the door. I reached down to turn the knob, but it turned before I could even touch it. Startled, I stepped back.
Mr. Darcy opened the door and came inside the sitting room. “Aunt Catherine, what are you about? Are you terrorizing poor Elizabeth?”
Lady Catherine shook her head at him. “You cannot marry her.”
“Well, I have to at this point,” said Mr. Darcy, putting his arm around me. He nuzzled my neck.
I shoved him off. “Sir, you forget yourself.”
“True, when I am around you, I forget myself.” He smiled at his aunt. “Here’s the way of it, Aunt Catherine, I’m never going to marry Anne! I don’t like her. She doesn’t like me. It’s not happening. What do you think about that?” He was practically beaming.
I tried to get away from him, but he was holding tightly onto me. “Mr. Darcy, please.”
“Are you drunk, Fitzwilliam?” said Lady Catherine. “Something is quite wrong with you.”
“I’m desperately in love is what it is,” said Mr. Darcy. “Desperately.”
“Let go of me,” I said in a tight voice.
“I was really hoping you were going to screech,” said Mr. Darcy, eyeing his aunt. “I was ever so looking forward to that.”
I pried his hand off of me and fled the room.
Outside, Charlotte and Mr. Collins were waiting for me.
I wrung out my hands, letting out a high-pitched noise of frustration.
From within the room, behind the shut door, Lady Catherine began to screech. We could not make out her words, though. They were muffled behind the closed door.
Mr. Collins cringed.
Charlotte put her fingers to her lips.
I groaned.
She screeched for some time.
But then Mr. Darcy’s voice interrupted her, deep and yet rather angry, growing louder and louder until we could make out exactly what he was saying.
“…put everything ahead of myself and what I want! Worry only about appearances, about appeasing a whole slew of people I don’t even care about! And no one ever asks what I want! But of course, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not allowed to want things!”
A pause. Lady Catherine’s high-pitched, unintelligible voice filled the air.
“No,” cried Darcy. “No, none of that bit about responsibility. There must be some kind of balance. If a man can’t choose who he wants in his own bed, then why even bother living?” The door opened, and Mr. Darcy strode out, red-faced, hands clenched in fists.
He saw me and his expression tightened. Now, he looked embarrassed.
I bowed my head.
He cleared his throat. “You’re standing out here.”
“We are on our way back to the parsonage, I think,” said Mr. Collins.
“Oh, indeed,” said Charlotte. “How will we explain this to Maria?”
“I’m just glad she didn’t come along and overhear those positively iniquitous things,” said Mr. Collins with a huff.
“So,” said Mr. Darcy. “You heard?”
I licked my lips.
He looked at my lips.
“Come along, then, Elizabeth,” said Charlotte. “He can’t have you in his bed until he marries you.”
fitzwilliam
I decided the best course of action about all of that was simply never to bring it up with her again.
The next day, well, once we had slept and awakened to live Thursday again, I met her when she was coming out of the parsonage that morning.
“You’ve never been here before.”
“I calculated when you should meet Colonel Fitzwilliam and thought I could guess when you would likely leave the parsonage and decided I’d simply come and meet you here,” I said. “Shall we walk?”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“It’s better to simply randomly meet each other while walking, I think. Otherwise, I’m going to be compromising you every single Thursday.”
She smirked at me.
I flushed, feeling my face heat. No, not saying a word. Not a word .
“Let’s walk, Willie,” she said, starting off without me.
“You’re going to call me that forever, are you not?” I said.
“I don’t know, perhaps.” She was laughing. “Wee Willie Darcy!”
“Oh, Christ,” I muttered, falling into step with her.
She was still laughing.
“It occurs to me that if I am trying to make you like me, Miss Bennet, I am doing an appalling job.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, turning to look at me sidelong.
My heart leaped in my chest. I swallowed, shoving my hands into my pockets.
We walked.
“It was my fault, anyway,” she said finally.
I glanced at her. “What was?”
“Well, the compromise, obviously. I was upset. I don’t usually cry like that in front of people, you know.”
“Of course I know,” I said. “No one does. It’s not done.”
“Exactly,” she said, sighing. “But it all seemed… utterly awful, I suppose. Still does. I have been thinking about it all night, and I am at a bit of a loss as to how to even face the day. Or all the rest of them, as it may be. Or the same day, actually, yes?”
I nodded. “Ah, you’re in that phase of it, then. I remember that phase.”
She stopped walking and faced me.
I stopped too.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Well, if it’s a phase, what comes after it?”
“The fun part,” I said with a little shrug. Then I grimaced, because hadn’t I decided the fun part was dangerous? Wasn’t that why I was wearing my cravat?
“Oh, I just remembered,” she said, reaching into the front of her bodice. “I found this.” She held up my pocket watch. “I think you must have left it at the parsonage at some point.” She held it out.
I just stared at it.
She shook it at me.
I took it. It was warm from her flesh. She had just had this between her… I cleared my throat and shoved it into my pocket.
She was walking again. “Well, I am just thinking, Will—can I call you Will?”
“Certainly, everyone does,” I said, coming after her.
“I am stuck here. I shall never see my father again. I shall never see my sisters. I shall never see Jane, and I dearly love Jane. She and I are ever so close.”
I fell into step with her. “You know, we could take a carriage to go and visit.”
She looked at me. “Yes, fifty miles of good road?” she said faintly.
“Well, I am only saying, it’s not so dire as that.” Of course, I’d thought similar things about Georgiana, truthfully.
“I thought you were going to go kill Mr. Wickham today, anyway.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose I forgot about that. I shall absolutely kill him at some point, I suppose. It just seems pointless since he’s not going to stay dead.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “This is what we have come to, though, you see? Grim jokes such as this. Mr. Darcy, you and I shall never get any older. We shall have no lives, nothing beyond this. We cannot marry or have children or grandchildren or—we are stuck.” Her voice broke.
“It’s quite a bad phase,” I said. “This is when I shot myself, in fact. It’s… I’d spare you this part if I could.”
“I’m not in any danger of doing damage to myself,” she said quietly.
“Well, that’s quite good,” I said.
We walked together, saying nothing, for some time.
“But I don’t know how to bear it up either,” she said finally. “Tell me about the fun part, if you please.”
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “I’m not sure if the fun part really is fun.”
“But what is it?”
“Well, you see, Miss Bennet, nothing matters anymore, which is frightfully depressing, of course, but then, if one turns the idea over and over and looks at it from different angles, it also begins to seem freeing, do you see? Because if nothing matters anymore, and nothing means anything at all, then one can do anything. There are things I was curious about, things I wished to try, things that I couldn’t do, and then, I realized I could.”
“Things like asking me to marry you,” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “But therein lies the problem, of course, because, well, one can’t simply do anything .”
“Well, you just said that one could.”
“I did, yes, but it… well, I don’t know if I like being a person who doesn’t care about anything or anyone and who will use anyone for my own amusement.”
“Oh, yes, I see,” she said, nodding. “But it does become that way rather quickly, doesn’t it? Since they are always going to reset, it’s as if you can’t really hurt the other people.”
“True,” I said.
“But now, I am with you,” she said. “And I am not going to reset. So, it’s different. You and I can do the fun parts.”
I swallowed, very hard.
“So, let’s see,” she said. “What would be fun to do? What are we prevented from doing all the time that we are now free to do?” She turned to me, smiling brightly.
I shook my head. “Well, if we’re prevented, madam, it’s likely for a good reason.”
She furrowed her brow. “You are confusing me now, I must say.”
Yes, of course, I was confusing her. She was a very innocent young woman whose mind was not going to the positively filthy corners that my own mind was going to, and had I not indicated that I would simply never bring any of this up with her?
Right, Will, think of something you could be doing with this woman that isn’t sexual, for the sake of all that is holy. “Well, maybe there are fun things we could do.”
She looked at me expectantly.
“We could… steal things.”
“Steal things!” She was horrified.
“I mean, it wouldn’t matter, because everything would reset, of course, so—”
“At shops?” Her eyes were bright.
“At shops,” I said, grinning.
“Just walk in, brazenly, and make off with things?” She let out a long, happy giggle.
“We could do exactly that,” I said.