Colonel Fitzwilliam lay stiff as a board on the cream carpeted floor in Anne Darcy’s bedroom and Fitzwilliam Darcy held the hands of Elizabeth Bennet close to his chest.
“I had no judgment when to her I swore!” Darcy stared into Elizabeth’s eyes, holding his part of Lysander, not needing much motivation to evoke a desperate man.
“Nor none, in my mind, now that you give her o’er.” Elizabeth attempted to pull her hands away but Darcy held them fiercely, just as he’d seen done on the London stage. Anne grinned from ear to ear watching the scene unfold, pressing her hands together and rising to sit higher than her fluffed pillows would allow. Charlotte Collins sat next to her, riveted by the emotional tension in the room. If she had not known her friend to be a gentlewoman, she might have wondered if Mr. Darcy and the Colonel had hired a professional actress from London for the fete.
“Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.” Again, Darcy looked into Elizabeth’s eyes but noticed a small smile creeping on her lips. He looked down to see what was the source of her amusement when a stifled snore came from near his feet. Exasperated, Darcy nudged the lifeless body of his cousin Richard with his foot with more force than was polite.
Richard flailed his arms at an unknown assailant, managing to knock Darcy’s tall legs from under him by catching him right at the knees, which pulled Elizabeth Bennet down onto a heap with both men on the floor.
“Richard, you dolt!”
Richard was fully awake now that the weight of two persons had landed on his gut and he was quickly pushing both away from him. Elizabeth landed soundly on her rear end straight onto the floor, causing her to burst out laughing.
“How could you fall asleep?”
“What? I’m a soldier old man, and this floor is one of the most comfortable ones I’ve had a pleasure to lie on.” Richard pretended to readjust himself to resume slumbering.
“Oh Richard, have you truly slept on many floors?” Anne asked, barely above a whisper.
Richard opened his eyes and winked, before closing them again. Taking a deep breath, he quickly rose and began shouting in a bombastic voice:
“O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!” The Colonel reached down to help Elizabeth up as she was still trying to remain serious. She continued her giggles as Richard forgot most of his speech and instead gave her a flourished bow and kissed her hand.
Deciding that would have to do, Elizabeth pulled her much abused hands away from the second gentleman to claim them this afternoon, in the spirit of the dramatic arts, and placed them on her hips.
“O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent to set against me for your merriment:” She wagged her finger at both men, and glanced to Anne and Charlotte, both ladies were watching her little play with rapt attention. Elizabeth took a moment to begin pacing between the two men and raised her voice a notch in admonishment.
“If you were civil and knew courtesy,” she paused and took the opportunity to offer a hand to Mr. Darcy who had taken a casual reclining position of the floor with his arms resting on his knees after the spill of three, emphasizing the words she was speaking. “You would not do me thus much injury.”
“And the same could be said of you, Miss Bennet!” barked a voice none of them wished to hear from the doorway.
The smile on Darcy’s face disappeared as he dropped Elizabeth’s hand and stepped between his aunt and her prey.
“Aunt, might we employ you to play the part of Titania, Queen of the Fairies?”
“Fairies! I should think not!”
“Mr. Collins, we could use you as Nick Bottom, a most crucial part in the play!” Richard called out, spying the toad of a parson hiding behind his aunt’s wide girth just inside Anne’s attached sitting room.
Mr. Collins absently took a step forward at the invitation, only to receive the fiercest glare from his patroness. “Er, while the invitation is most inviting, I fear at this moment I am not inclined to dramatic displays as befitting the tastes and culture of those present.”
“It’s Miss de Bourgh’s favorite play, but she’s never seen it performed. We are acting as a kindness to her.” Elizabeth hurried to add, biting her tongue at Richard assigning her cousin the role of the ass.
“Of course she hasn’t seen it performed, her health has precluded her from such energetic and emotional influences, Miss Bennet. Had she been of stout health, she would have been a most celebrated admirer of the theater and a patron of the finest plays!” Anne’s mother was not to be swayed.
“You take exception, madam, that I fulfill a dying wish of my future wife?” Mr. Darcy’s voice resumed an icy tone he reserved only for his aunt, especially for occasions where she forgot her soon-to-be status as the Dowager of Rosings, not the Mistress.
“Darcy, you risk her health!”
“No, Momma, they are making me laugh!” Anne said loudly, holding the hands of Mrs. Collins sitting next to her on the bed.
Lady Catherine took one more calculated look at the room before her, disapproving of the levity and gaiety for a sickroom. “Well then.”
She turned around to make like she was going to leave, causing Elizabeth to release the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Mr. Collins,” she called, and glanced over her shoulder to the squat man looking back and forth at Mr. Darcy and herself “weren’t you just telling me how you were thinking Mrs. Collins should rest before dinner?”
“Why, why yes, Lady Catherine, you had just finished telling me how concerned you were for her and Cousin Elizabeth’s welfare given the devotion they both have bestowed upon Miss de Bourgh. It would not due to have three ladies ill, it is best they all rest as you say, and you are most generous to offer them rooms to do so.” The irony of Mr. Collins trumpeting Lady Catherine's generosity was punctuated by a deep rumble and harsh crash of thunder thanks to a spring storm. Three hours ago it was decided that the Hunsford party would dine and stay at Rosings overnight, as the weather was too harsh for them to return.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes involuntarily. She looked to Anne and slightly shook her head to confirm to the woman she was no burden. Anne gave a feeble smile and pressed her lips together, which Elizabeth recognized as her way of stifling a coughing fit. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth pushed past Mr. Darcy and took her cousin’s arm.
“Perhaps we have given Miss de Bourgh too much excitement for her condition and can wait to continue the play.” Before the Collinses could follow Lady Catherine out of Anne’s suite, Lady Catherine turned around and eyed the young woman most carefully. But Elizabeth didn’t flinch. “Tomorrow,” she said, with a light air to her words.
Once in the hall, Elizabeth immediately broke from her cousin’s arm to return to the guest chamber she was assigned earlier in the day.
“Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine called before taking the main staircase back to her parlor.
Elizabeth turned and curtsied with her head bowed, before rising to look at the old woman. “Yes, Lady Catherine?”
“We are dining at 7 o’clock sharp. I expect you to take your meal in my dining room, not with my daughter.”
“Yes, ma’am, as you please.” Elizabeth bowed her head to hide her frown. She had underestimated Lady Catherine's intelligence, as Elizabeth had planned to take her dinner with Anne.
“Please do what you can with your hair to hide the ghastly mark on your cheek. You shouldn’t display your clumsiness in front of my nephews.”
Curtsying once more, Elizabeth turned to continue her trek to the beautiful yellow-papered room made up for her disposal and a copy of Shakespeare’s plays on her nightstand. If she could not perform, she would rehearse her lines, as they would certainly be replaying today’s scene after the disaster of Colonel Fitzwilliam falling asleep and Lady Catherine barging in. She looked over her shoulder to see if Mr. Collins was following her, but instead flooded with relief to see her cousin had followed Lady Catherine, with Charlotte in tow, downstairs to tend to more of the madwoman’s whims.
No more than a few moments passed in the sanctuary of her guest room than she heard a knock at her door. She opened it expecting Harriet, Miss de Bourgh's maid, only to see Mr. Darcy standing before her.
“Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth immediately dropped into a curtsy.
“Miss Bennet.” He perfunctory bowed, then stood there in silence.
“Can I assist you in some way, sir?” Elizabeth’s last words of her question faded away as the man simply stepped into her bedroom and took command of the door handle from her. The impropriety of what they were both tacitly agreeing to do made her thrilled and nervous at the same time.
“I heard you.”
Elizabeth took a few steps away from her secretly betrothed to maintain space and calm, then looked at him with her eyebrow arched. “Sir, I did not say a word since entering this room, I assure you.”
“No, before. With Anne. I heard you.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together and clasped her hands in front of her. She didn’t know what to say. Was Fitzwilliam angry she sold the candlesticks? Would he find her to be in the wrong as well? Her silence prompted Mr. Darcy to add to his earlier confession.
“I should not have been listening, truly. It’s just that, your injury, and where you were when we collected you…”
“Why are you bringing up my embarrassment?”
“Your embarrassment? YOUR embarrassment? It should be HIS embarrassment!”
“Please, keep your voice down.”
Darcy frowned. He took a breath and tugged on his left coat sleeve with his other hand. “I apologize, my temper got the better of me.”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow for a moment and then looked back at Mr. Darcy. “Have you heard of the Holbein family?”
Darcy frowned again. “You misunderstand me, Miss Bennet —- wait, what does my driver have to do with this?"
"Your driver?"
"Yes, Peter Holbein, his family has been in my family's employ for three generations."
Elizabeth felt delighted and could not help herself from giddily jumping up and down. "Of course! The uncle! Your driver's brother I believe is a tenant on Mr. Collins’ land. Only Mr. Collins has plans to run them off, because they are practicing Catholics, and the father has a broken back which made small Peter steal eggs . . . "
"Wait, I don't follow what you mean. Are you saying you sold the candlesticks to provide money for relations of my driver?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"But you stole Mr. Collins' property!"
Elizabeth shook her head, and bit her lip.
"Elizabeth?"
"I didn't so much sell the candlesticks as let Charlotte think I did. I had some money from my uncle, enough to satisfy one quarter's rent so the family is no longer in arrears, but if you, sir, could aid me, we could protect the entire Holbein family from eviction. That's what made Mr. Collins angry. When he said he would still evict the family, I could not abide such horrific treatment for those innocent children. They are hungry, Fitzwilliam."
Elizabeth's words pained Darcy's heart. How could any family be allowed to suffer on his aunt's lands, albeit lands under the parsonage’s control? It was not to be borne! Darcy's mind reeled from the mess Elizabeth laid before him, another complication in his already complicated existence, but he was not cross with her for bringing the problem to him. He only wished she had done so in the first place rather than trying to manage the problem on her own and bearing the violence of that parson in return.
"Have I angered you, sir?" Elizabeth watched the stormy expressions on her Fitzwilliam's face and her stomach now pained her in response. The turmoil in her heart tumbled relentlessly in her gut.
Darcy closed the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace. "I was ready to kill him, with my own bare hands. Richard stopped me. Said you were strong."
"Your cousin is a wise man." Elizabeth giggled as her nose tickled against his shirt. She tried to pull back, but he would not release her.
"I cannot lose you."
Time stopped. Elizabeth's heart seized in her chest as she suddenly felt very foolish for antagonizing her cousin. Of course he would fear losing a loved one, she always forgot what little family he possessed.
"You shall not. You shall not lose me. I promise," she managed, as Darcy gripped her tighter.
Once satisfied, they shared a few kisses and Elizabeth extracted a resolution from Fitzwilliam that come tomorrow, he would help her with the Holbein family.
It wasn’t until her door was again safely closed that Elizabeth crumpled to the bed, finally feeling the weight of her life on her slender shoulders. She could smell the lingering scent of Mr. Darcy’s person in the room and exasperated, she grabbed a pillow from her left side and promptly deposited it across her face and groaned. She scolded herself that only heroines in novels suffered such dramatic love trials and at least her forbidden love was only postponed, not ruined forever.