Bundled into the carriage with Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth could scarcely believe that what had begun as the smallest hint of an idea, a small thought of rebellion, had become real. She had left Longbourn as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but she would return as Mr. Alexander Roberts, nephew to Mr. Bennet and heir to the estate of Longbourn.
“Now, Lizzie, I have written to my cousin in Bath, and she has agreed to create garments to the measurements of a young gentleman, whose build and proportions are very similar to your own. She will be none the wiser, and I will make any alterations myself. If all is in order, I shall instruct her to make three suits of clothing, you may wish to borrow from your own dear Papa’s wardrobe for... variety. Men have a much easier time of dressing than we,” she said with a sigh.
“I shall pay you back every farthing,” Elizabeth said gratefully. She would never be able to pay back her aunt for all of her many kindnesses, but she would be able to reimburse the cost of the clothing as soon as the estate monies came into her control.
Mrs. Gardiner waved her hand, dismissing her niece’s concerns. “This is my gift to you, Lizzie. I am so dreadfully excited to be your conspirator, and as I cannot be at Longbourn when you make your debut, I may at least be involved in your preparations. You will have a hard road ahead of you.”
“I daresay the hardest part will be convincing my sisters to keep my secret,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “I will write to Jane and tell her of my plans as soon as we arrive in Bath, with the admonishment that she is to explain what has happened to everyone but Mama.”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded gravely, “your poor Mama has been through a dreadful period, I fear that another shock would not be the kindest approach.”
“I daresay you are correct, however, I cannot risk her jeopardizing this enterprise. I will count on Jane to explain everything to her when I arrive. I need only carry on the façade of Mr. Alexander Roberts long enough to sign my uncle’s papers and ensure that Mr. Collins is well and truly back on the road to Kent. Then, Mr. Roberts will be called back to the colonies unexpectedly and will leave the management of Longbourn to us, his dear cousins.”
Mrs. Gardiner stared at her niece with something that Elizabeth hoped was admiration. It was a daring plan, and one that would require the cooperation of her family in fooling not only Mr. Collins, but more importantly, Mr. Hawksworth, Mr. Bennet’s lawyer in Meryton.
Mr. Gardiner’s new documents would be held up against the originals, and Elizabeth in her role as Mr. Alexander Roberts would have to be convincing in her presentation as Mr. Bennet’s closest relative.
“I have every confidence in you, Lizzie,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a smile. “But I have only one reservation.”
“What is that?”
“Whatever are we going to do with your beautiful hair? You do not have the hairline of a gentleman...”
“To be sure. But I have given it much thought... it shall have to be cut,” Elizabeth said firmly. It had been a difficult decision, but she knew that it would be the only way. Her dark, waist length hair was a prized possession. But she had decided that she would give up anything to save her family home, and so... it must go. If she was not committed to her own cause, what hope did she have of success?
“Oh, Lizzie...” Mrs. Gardiner said mournfully. Elizabeth patted her aunt’s hand.
“It is only hair, and it will grow back. Besides, I have grown weary of all the fuss of braiding and pinning and arranging. Perhaps I will enjoy the ease of dressing shorter hair so much that I will keep it always!”
“Do not tease me so, your Mama’s heart will be broken to see your hair shorn away. But if I ever doubted your conviction... I do not doubt it now.”
Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed her aunt on the cheek before settling herself back against the carriage seat. They would be in Bath in a few hours, and then the real journey would begin.
True to her word, Mrs. Gardiner’s cousin had made a suit of clothes to Elizabeth’s measurements. In her room at the Rose and Thorn Inn, Elizabeth unwrapped the packages that had arrived with an air of excitement that could very well rival Christmas morning for all the expectation they held.
She held up each item one by one, exclaiming over the design and craftsmanship of every piece. Mrs. Gardiner watched thoughtfully, offering suggestions where necessary.
The linen shirts were loose enough to hide her curves, but Mrs. Gardiner insisted upon helping Elizabeth to bind down her breasts to allow her waistcoat to fit closer. “It is less constrictive than a corset,” Elizabeth said with a smile as her aunt secured the binding.
“Jane will have to assist you,” Mrs. Gardiner asserted, admiring her handiwork as Elizabeth pulled on her shirt once more and buttoned the waistcoat. The wide lapels did much to hide the gentle swell of her chest, and gave her a more masculine silhouette. The breeches were snug, and fitted well down her thighs, but not so well as to accentuate her feminine shape.
Mrs. Gardiner produced a pair of Hessian boots, the soles of which had been made thicker to add to her height. Elizabeth slipped them onto her feet with an air of finality, pleased to stand taller than her aunt. She examined herself in a long oval mirror as she tied a cravat at her throat. She had helped her father with his many times over the years, and the motions felt natural.
Her reflection, however, was anything but.
“A gentleman from the neck to the toes,” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed. “But Lizzie, what are we to do with your beautiful complexion?”
Elizabeth smiled at her aunt. “We shall have to make due,” she said. “The clothing fits beautifully, I do not believe it will require any alterations. Your cousin has truly outdone herself.”
“Indeed she has. I shall inform her that the young gentleman is very pleased and I will place an order for more items. We will tarry here in Bath for a few more days, and then, I will reluctantly send you home to Hertfordshire. Mr. Gardiner will see that Mr. Hawksworth receives the legal documents required.”
“I can never repay this kindness,” Elizabeth said, feeling her eyes well up with tears.
“Nor should you,” said Mrs. Gardiner briskly. “Now, a gentleman does not cry in front of ladies, and you would do very well to start behaving like Mr. Alexander Roberts when you are dressed in such a manner.”
Elizabeth laughed, and then sobered immediately. Her aunt was right. If she were to make this fiction convincing, it would have to begin at once.
“You are quite right, I shall write to Jane immediately to warn her of my plan, and of Mr. Roberts’ imminent arrival. Elizabeth Bennet will stay here in Bath for a fortnight, and Mr. Roberts will journey to Hertfordshire.”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded. “I will leave you to your letters,” she said, leaving Elizabeth alone in her room, the door closing softly behind her.
She looked at herself in the mirror once more; touching her braided and curled hair with tentative fingers. She would put off cutting her long locks until the day she left for Hertfordshire. Until then, she would be herself and enjoy Bath with her aunt until the weight of her decision could be avoided no longer.
Mrs. Gardiner had cried when Elizabeth appeared at breakfast on the morning of her departure for Longbourn. She was dressed in her new clothes, her waistcoat buttoned tightly, and her cravat tied in neat knots at her throat. The high collars hid her delicate jawline and added bulk to her slight frame, and Elizabeth felt confident in her deception as she entered the Inn’s breakfast room.
“Good morning, sir,” the maid said as Elizabeth entered. She pressed her lips together, doing her best to smother the laughter that threatened to escape and give her away.
She sat at the table Mrs. Gardiner had taken by the window and waited for her aunt’s reaction to her transformation. “Oh, my,” Mrs. Gardiner said after a moment. “You are every inch a gentleman this morning.” Her eyes swept over Elizabeth’s hair, filling with tears at the thought of how much had been shorn away.
“Do not worry,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I have tied up the remains with a velvet ribbon and packed them safely away.”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded quickly and wiped at her cheeks. “You look very much the part. To my eyes, my sweet Lizzie sites before me in her cousin’s coat and trousers. But anyone who did not know you well would suspect nothing.”
“I thank you,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I confess that I have never been so terrified in all my life.”
“Let us hope that you will have no reason to be,” Mrs. Gardiner said, pouring tea carefully. “Mr. Gardiner has sent some letters that arrived for you from Jane. I would wager that she has received your explanation and expects the arrival of Mr. Roberts any day now.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I trust that Jane has done all that I asked. I also included the letter of introduction, the very same one which I showed you in London, to present to Mama. Everything rests upon Jane now.”
“And you, my dearest.”
Elizabeth did not reply, for there was nothing to say, so she merely nodded and looked down at her hands.
What do gentlemen commonly do at mealtimes? She thought desperately. Mr. Bennet would read the newspapers that Hill brought for him, drink his tea and make the occasional affirmative noise when conversation was directed his way.
As Mr. Alexander Roberts, Elizabeth knew that she would have to adopt the masculine habits she so often observed from afar.
A maid brought a newspaper to the table and Elizabeth accepted it without looking at the girl or acknowledging her with anything more than a muttered salutation.
She declined the buttered scone her aunt offered and instead sipped at her tea, careful to keep all of her fingers tight upon the cup’s graceful handle.
She had never read one of her father’s newspapers, but Elizabeth was transfixed by the bold headlines and thrilling articles of life and misery in London and abroad in the mysterious colonies.
The Colonies. It struck her suddenly that Mr. Alexander Roberts, newly arrived from Canada after the untimely death of his mother, required some purpose in England.
She knew that her father’s library carried some book, one to be sure, about the Canadian colony. She should have written to Jane to ask her to put that particular volume aside.
As she continued to read the newspaper, an article on the Canadian fur trade caught her eye.
Yes. Mr. Alexander Roberts had arrived just in time for winter to assess the profitability of imported fur from the Canadian Colony. Beaver skin hats might have been out of fashion, but winter would always be cold, and fur would always be warm.
The Bennet family was in possession of a few fur items, but they were small and unostentatious. Luckily, Mrs. Gardiner’s purchases included a coat trimmed with a luxurious dark pelt, an easy conversation opener to be sure, and a unique enough profession that few would enquire after details.
At least, that was her hope.
If she were lucky, the fortnight she would have to spend in disguise would pass quickly with a minimum of interaction with anyone who was not immediate family.
Speaking to Mr. Collins would be unavoidable, but she felt confident enough in her ruse to dwell upon other possibilities. What she feared more than anything was Lydia’s wayward tongue.
The youngest Bennet daughter was notoriously terrible at keeping secrets, but Elizabeth had to trust that Jane had made the severity of their current situation very clear... and that Lydia understood it well enough to know better.
Easier to hope for snow in August.
Elizabeth sighed and looked out the carriage window, watching the scenery as it passed by. Rolling hills, dark forests... she would like nothing better than to walk through the woods before the snow fell upon the ground. Her fingers smoothed the fabric of the breeches she wore, and Elizabeth imagined the look on Jane’s face when the door opened to her knock.
She could only hope that it was Jane who answered and not Longbourn’s housekeeper, or, worse yet, her mother.
For now, all Elizabeth could do was try to relax; the coming weeks would present the biggest challenge of her life, and everything depended on her ability to play this role, and play it well.
Secrets were difficult to keep, and one such as this carried even more weight behind it.
When the carriage entered Meryton, Elizabeth pulled the black velvet armband Mrs. Gardiner had made from the pocket of her coat and fastened it around her upper arm.
Longbourn would still be in the grip of mourning, and Elizabeth wondered how long her mother would wear the widow’s colors before returning to her favorite gowns and caps. Likely as not, Lydia and Kitty would already be complaining about their limited wardrobe choices, or lamenting the dyeing of a favored dress.
The carriage pulled into Longbourn’s courtyard and Elizabeth felt her heart begin to beat heavily in her chest. A cold shiver rattled up her spine and she took a deep breath to steady herself.
The carriage lurched to a halt and Elizabeth took a moment to remind herself to lower her voice, to stand differently, to straighten her shoulders and speak as though every word that came out of her mouth was the most important to be spoken in that house.
Elizabeth had been watching the gentlemen in Bath, and Mrs. Gardiner had made her practice her bows, walk, and mannerisms until she was satisfied. She was ready; but whether she believed it or not, it was too late to go back now.
Elizabeth Bennet had remained behind in Bath, and it was Mr. Alexander Roberts who stepped from the carriage, clasped his hands behind his back and walked towards Longbourn’s dark front door.