It was nearly dawn when the Bennets returned home from the ball, yet Elizabeth found she was not tired. Buoyed by the unusual energy brought by the end of a thrilling night, she passed her own door and scratched gently at the door of Jane’s room.
“Come in, Lizzy,” said Jane quietly. “I knew you would not be sleeping yet.”
“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” said Elizabeth, closing the door quietly behind her. “If Mr. Bingley had tried to dance with you anymore you’d have been married by now.”
Jane blushed. “He was not inappropriate.”
“Of course not,” said Elizabeth. “I’m only teasing. But you must admit, the man could barely stand to speak to anyone but you. I can hardly criticize him for it; you were quite my favorite person in the room, too.”
“Excepting your earl, you mean,” said Jane with a small smile. “I saw you dancing with him.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. Her voice failed her a moment.
“He must like you very much,” said Jane. Her sweet sister would never pry, would never ask an untoward question; it was that fact which compelled Elizabeth to confide in her sister at long last.
“Jane, I must tell you something,” she said. “About me and Darcy.”
“Oh, no, Lizzy,” said Jane, alarmed. “What has happened? Has he broken with you?”
“No, it’s not that,” said Elizabeth. “It’s only…”
She hardly knew where to begin.
“Our courtship is not the customary sort.”
Jane’s answer was tentative. “You do seem especially well matched, if that’s what you mean.”
“No,” said Elizabeth. The words caused a sharp pang in the vicinity of her chest; what that pain could mean, she knew not. “Jane, our courtship is a farce.”
“What on earth can you mean, Lizzy? It’s public knowledge.”
“And too well do I know it,” said Elizabeth. She came to sit beside her sister on the bed. “Darcy – when he first found out about the late Earl's passing – asked me to pose as his fiancée for a short time.”
“Why would he do that?” cried Jane. “Do not tell me you agreed. What could possibly entice you to go along with such a scheme?”
“Jane, do you remember the morning we left Netherfield?”
“There was a pack of carriages in the lane,” said her sister. “I remember that.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Such a crowd that we could not get home in time for breakfast that day, remember? It was ages before the road was clear enough for us to pass.”
“I do remember that. The new coachman was quite beside himself.”
“He was. Jane, that crush was the first wave of visitors at Netherfield who came to visit the new, unmarried earl of Matlock,” said Elizabeth. “Our own mother and sisters went to see him that day.”
“I’d forgotten that part,” said Jane. “The news of his peerage was in the paper that morning; Lydia was beside herself that we’d heard about the news first before it even went to print.”
Elizabeth nodded again.
“His aunt issued the announcement to encourage him to find a wife quickly. Darcy complied, but only inasmuch as he had to.”
“And so rather than agree to pose as his fiancée, you permit him to court you instead,” said Jane. “To satisfy his social commitments.”
“Primarily that,” said Elizabeth. “It also buys him time to find himself a proper wife without being inundated by every marriage-mart-miss in the country.”
“Oh,” said Jane, cringing. “I suppose I can see why he would feel compelled to entertain such subterfuge.”
“Can you?” said Elizabeth, with a smile. “Then you are a better woman than I. I confess, I denied his request for help until he offered me payment.”
“Lizzy!”
“You would not expect me to perform for nothing, surely,” said Elizabeth. The look, the outright disbelief on her sister’s face made her laugh aloud. “He is not giving me money.”
Jane’s expression gave way to horror.
“Jane!” cried Elizabeth, laughing in earnest now. “Jane! What do you think me capable of?”
“Stop your laughing,” said Jane. “You’ll wake the others! Now tell me at once, what on earth are you talking about? If he is not giving you money, what compensation will you receive?”
Elizabeth’s laughter died, for these facts were not a laughing matter.
“I tell you all of this because you are my dearest friend and sister, and my only true confidant,” said Elizabeth. “Please, do not speak a word of any of it. In exchange for my small service, Darcy has offered to establish dowries for you all.”
Jane was rendered speechless.
“I tell you all this now, because something else has happened and I need your advice,” Elizabeth continued. She withdrew the two notes from the book in her hand and handed them to her sister.
Jane unfolded them and read, her face flushing at the first then going white at the second as she read it aloud.
“Slattern. Go back to your farm and leave the gentleman alone. He deserves better. You’ll get what you deserve soon enough.” Jane set the pages down with a shaking hand. “Good God, Lizzy.”
“Yes,” replied Elizabeth quietly. “I do not think the author poses any real threat, but I find I am unsure of my own judgement in this case.”
“You are brave, braver than I should be in your situation. But why should you doubt yourself in this?” asked Jane. “Unless…”
“Unless,” continued Elizabeth. “Unless I have been foolish enough to think that my understanding with the gentleman is real.” She stood, walking over to the window. “I have been a fool before, Jane. I am not so great a fool as that.”
Jane did not immediately answer. The quality of her silence gave Elizabeth the distinct impression that Jane was steeling herself against the unpleasantness of the situation.
“Lizzy, you know I respect your judgement more than anyone’s, better than even my own,” said Jane quietly. “But no dowry, no one’s dowry, is worth risking your life. I would not have you risk yourself for something of so little consequence.”
“It is not of little consequence,” said Elizabeth. “You know as well as I, our chances of making a satisfactory match are slim at best. To make an advantageous match is certainly out of the question, save in your case. I’ve not seen the equal to your beauty, and I believe it will serve you well when it comes to marriage.”
Elizabeth did not mention Mr. Bingley.
“But for the rest of us,” she continued. “We have little between us to recommend ourselves. Four dowries between five sisters would buy our father and mother more than a little peace of mind.”
“Only four dowries?” asked Jane, confused.
“It was my express wish to be excluded from the agreement,” admitted Elizabeth.
“I am surprised Mr. Darcy –that is, his lordship– agreed to it.”
“I believe the man would have agreed to nearly anything I asked,” said Elizabeth, smiling a little at the memory. “He was terrified of all those mamas and their unmarried daughters, I am absolutely certain.”
“I see that you intend to continue helping him,” said Jane, more serious than before. “But I cannot think of the matter with any measure of peace; not while you’re in danger.”
“I am not at all convinced I’m in danger,” replied Elizabeth. She held up her hand before Jane could speak again. “But that is why I came to you, do you see? I do wish to help him, and I am afraid there might be dangers I have not yet perceived. You say you trust my good judgement, Jane; I trust yours as well,” she said. “Well, inasmuch as I can, considering you think too well of everybody on earth in general.”
“You are teasing again, I think,” said Jane.
“I am,” said Elizabeth with a smile; it faded rapidly. “If even you would take issue with the tone of these letters, Jane, then I had best back out of the arrangement.”
“I think that is prudent,” said Jane softly. “Though I am sorry to cause pain to his lordship.”
“I very much doubt his lordship will feel pain over this,” said Elizabeth wryly. “Except perhaps the inconvenience of having to deal with all those women.”
Elizabeth hugged her sister and bade her good night. She did not care for the feeling of loss that followed her into sleep, nor did she endeavor to understand it.
Breakfast that morning was late indeed, as breakfast after a ball always was. Elizabeth was first to attend it; sleep had been ill-gotten after her consultation with Jane. She had joked about causing Darcy no pain, but she dreaded the action before her nonetheless. She would have to seek him out at the first opportunity, before any more ill will could be cast in her family’s direction.
Better to keep herself safe, and them as well. If the author of those notes had any tangible intent to do harm, Elizabeth could not bring it any nearer to her family.
She briefly considered just sending him the notes and an explanation of her withdrawal; it would be easier to avoid witnessing his disappointment. But while she might endeavor to put distance between herself and danger for her family’s sake, Elizabeth found she could not stomach the cowardice of avoiding Darcy now.
She heard stirring in the house; at least two of her sisters had risen. If the tone of the argument was any indication, the two were Lydia and Kitty. Resolved to act as soon as possible, Elizabeth rose from her seat.
“His lordship, the Earl of Matlock, is here to see you, Miss Elizabeth,” said Sarah from the door of the breakfast room.
Elizabeth’s resolve quavered as she momentarily considered fleeing for the safety of her room upstairs.
Darcy had been a friend to her, kind to her when she’d fallen ill in a stranger’s home. She owed him better than such cowardice.
“Where is he now?” she asked.
“He is waiting in the west parlour, ma’am.”
“That will do. Thank you, Sarah,” she said. “I’ll be along shortly. Oh, and please… don’t tell anyone else he’s arrived. Not yet.”
“Of course, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth waited until Sarah had gone before running upstairs as quietly as she could manage to retrieve the foul notes she’d received last evening. Darcy had enough to deal with as was; she need not add to his troubles further by inflicting her mother upon him.