Mr. Roberts departed Longbourn for London not two days after the papers were signed. A letter was written to Mr. Bingley, explaining that business had called him back to the Saint Lawrence, but that he would return to Hertfordshire when it had been completed.
The letters that Elizabeth had written to Mrs. Gardiner in her despondent panic were burnt in the hearth of Mr. Roberts’ bedchamber. If anyone discovered them, it would not matter... the papers were signed, and secured in Mr. Bennet’s desk, but it was better to be sure that everything was as it should be.
Elizabeth’s arrival in London had been met with a mixture of surprise and joy... Mr. Gardiner had been stunned to see his niece’s transformation, and remarked at once how much she looked like her father had when he was young. “Your Papa would envy your sable locks, Mr. Roberts, his own hair was very grey when he was only three and thirty!” he had laughed.
Mrs. Gardiner fussed over Elizabeth’s hair, determining which style would work best to hide the fact that it had been shorn. Deft work with curling tongs and a lace cap carefully disguised the length of her hair, and would serve to hide just how much hair was missing from her head. Bonnets would suffice for any public occasions, and Elizabeth smiled at her reflection as her aunt chewed on her knuckles nervously.
“Will you be able to show Jane how to achieve this?” she asked.
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied warmly. Her aunt had done so much for her in these last months, and there was no way that Elizabeth could repay her for her many kindnesses. She only hoped that one day she would be able to show her true appreciation.
When a week had passed and Elizabeth had grown used to dressing her hair and clothing herself as a young woman once more, she departed London for Longbourn. Jane had written to say that Mr. Bingley had visited Longbourn no less than twice, the second time asking how he could reach Mr. Roberts. Jane had given him the Gardiner’s address in Cheapside, and Elizabeth held the letter she had received from him in her reticule.
She had briefly entertained writing to Jane to tell her what had happened, but Mrs. Gardiner had counseled her to deliver the news in person, something that Elizabeth was looking forward to with more joy than she could bear.
The whole of the family was waiting in the courtyard when the carriage arrived, and Elizabeth was struck by the happiness in the faces of her sisters and mother. When she had left Longbourn to undertake this deception, Elizabeth had left a household weighted down by grief and loss. Mrs. Bennet still wore black, and Elizabeth had a feeling that she would continue to do so for some time, but despite her widow’s dress, her face was suffused with joy and pride.
“Oh, Lizzie! You are very welcome home!” Mrs. Bennet cried, waving her handkerchief wildly as the carriage pulled to a stop. Lydia burst out laughing, covering her mouth and doubling over as she did so. “Lord, to see you now, it is so silly! I can hardly believe that was you!
“Hush now, Lydia, your sister looks very well indeed,” Mrs. Bennet said, swatting at her youngest daughter with her handkerchief.
“Very well indeed,” Jane said, coming forward to embrace her sister. “I am so happy to have you back, Lizzie. Truly back where you belong. You have done a great thing for all of us.”
“Lizzie, you will never believe it, Charlotte Lucas is to marry Mr. Collins, and we are all invited to the wedding in Kent!” Kitty cried.
“I do not want to go to Kent,” Mary said primly. “Mama will not permit me to stay home alone.”
Elizabeth smiled at her sister over Jane’s shoulder. “I believe you should stay home if you want to, Mary. We may do as we like now, and there is no one to tell us otherwise.” She released Jane from her embrace and pulled a letter from her reticule. “I have a letter here from Mr. Roberts, he has gone back to the Canadas to see to his business interests, and he has left Longbourn in our care. Mr. Gardiner was kind enough to draw up the necessary papers to ensure our care on his behalf. Should anyone ask, we have the support of the law, our dear cousin, and our uncle in London.”
Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands and embraced her daughter tightly. “You have done it, Lizzie. You have saved our home.”
Elizabeth tightened her arms around her mother, grateful for this sudden outpouring of affection that she had missed for so many weeks.
The house was full of merriment that evening, and when the younger girls had been sent to bed, Elizabeth finished recounting how she had come upon her clothing, and her aunt’s involvement in the entire scheme, she could see that any trace of resentment that her mother might have harbored had been chased away.
“My dear brother, he has taken such care...” Mrs. Bennet said shakily, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.
“We are very well loved, Mama.”
Elizabeth pulled her reticule into her lap and withdrew the letter she had secreted there, pausing for a moment before passing it to Jane.
“It arrived in London just before I departed,” she said with a smile.
“It is from Mr. Bingley,” Jane exclaimed, her eyes widening. “But why would he write to you—“
“He did not write to me, Jane. He wrote to Mr. Roberts... the head of our family.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped and reached for the letter, but Jane held it out of her reach. “Jane, read it aloud, you must!” Mrs. Bennet cried.
“... Mama, he has asked Mr. Roberts’ permission to make a proposal!” Jane squeaked.
Mrs. Bennet snatched the letter away and read it for herself.
“I have already written Mr. Roberts’ reply,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Mr. Bingley should have received it by now.” Mrs. Bennet’s shriek of delight filled the room and Jane lunged across the couch to pull Elizabeth into her arms.
“You have done so much, Lizzie. I can never thank you enough for what you have done...” Jane whispered.
“It is enough to see you happy,” Elizabeth said.
“You cannot decline an invitation for tea at Netherfield Park, Lizzie. Especially now! You must meet Mr. Bingley... and Caroline is so longing to speak to you.”
“But I have already met the gentleman... and his terrible sisters,” Elizabeth said, pinning a velvet ribbon around her head to disguise the length of her hair.
“Indeed,” Jane replied with a frustrated sigh as she tucked the end of another ribbon behind Elizabeth’s ear. “But you have not met them properly. I would have your real opinion of Mr. Bingley, and of Mr. Darcy, for you never shared your impressions of them when you were marching about Longbourn in Mr. Roberts’ boots.”
Elizabeth laughed. “As you say, Jane. I am at your command.”
“Mama will insist that we walk, but I would not take the chance,” Jane said. “There is too much snow upon the ground, she would be mad to send us on foot.”
“Jane! Jane, you must remember to take my most sincere Christmas wishes to Mr. Bingley and his delightful sisters,” Mrs. Bennet cried from the hallway.
“Yes, Mama!” Jane called. “Come now, Lizzie, you really must hurry.”
Elizabeth laughed and made the final touched on her hair before following her sister down the stairs to the foyer where their mother waited with fur blankets and coats to see them safely to Netherfield Park. The carriage waited in the courtyard and Elizabeth smiled to see her mother frowning at it.
“I really wish you would go on foot, or on horseback... the clouds are threatening more snow, and it would do my heart good to see Jane engaged before the New Year is upon us.”
“Mama,” Jane admonished. “You would not send us out on foot in this weather, surely.”
“Of course not, Jane... I was merely hoping...”
“Yes, Mama,” Jane said, kissing her mother on the cheek and walking through the front door towards the waiting carriage. Elizabeth kissed her mother on the other cheek and followed her sister.
“Do not forget to invite Mr. Bingley to our New Years breakfast!” she shouted after them, waving her handkerchief wildly as the carriage pulled away.
“Oh, mama,” Jane sighed, leaning back against the seat.
“Nothing will ever change our dear mother,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“Indeed, not,” Jane agreed.
They sat in silence for a time, staring out at the snow-covered fields of the neighboring estates until Jane sat up in her seat. “What will you say to Mr. Darcy?” she asked suddenly.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You cannot lie to me, Lizzie. I could see the way you looked at Mr. Darcy during the Netherfield ball. You were angry with him, and you must not be so as yourself... for you have never met the gentleman! He cannot know that you dislike him.”
Elizabeth frowned. Jane was right; she did harbor some confusing emotions for the gentleman. He was certainly proud, and unforgiving in his privilege... but she suspected that he had discovered her secret, and kept it. And she did not know what to make of such an unexpected truth.
He prized honesty above all other things... but would his good opinion extend to the level of deception that she had undertaken to secure the legacy of her family?
“I shall do my best to mask my true emotions, Jane,” Elizabeth promised, squeezing her sister’s hand tightly.
Jane was no stranger to taking tea at Netherfield Park, but Elizabeth was forced to pretend that she had never seen the house before. When the great doors opened to reveal a stern-faced butler, Elizabeth could finally allow herself to exclaim over the beauty of the furnishings and appointments, the softness of the carpet beneath her feet
Jane introduced her to Mr. Bingley, who was gracious and charming as always, though his eyes betrayed a hint of confusion at seeing her face and finding it familiar.
Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst reacted similarly, but that did not prevent them from carrying on a bright stream of conversation for the duration of their visit. Mr. Bingley’s attention never strayed from Jane, and Elizabeth could not help but smile to see them together.
“But Miss Bennet, I fear that you have missed the society event of the season. Your cousin was quite a charming figure, and we had such hopes of seeing him again very soon,” Caroline pouted. “But now Charles tell us that he has gone back to the Colonies! I cannot think of a worse place to be at this time of year. It must be dreadfully cold, and so dreary and wild... it is almost unthinkable.”
“Perhaps the sudden introduction into proper society was too much for him to bear, Caroline?” Mrs. Hurst said airily. “He mentioned that there was so little society that there was almost none to be had... I cannot imagine what kind of life that would be for any woman of quality and accomplishment.”
“No, indeed,” Caroline agreed.
Elizabeth said nothing, but nodded gently and sipped at her tea. There would be no sense in arguing Mr. Roberts’ case with these women without giving herself away, or opening herself up for more questions than she was prepared to answer. Let them speculate.
“Ah, Darcy, so good of you to join us. You must meet Miss Bennet’s sister. Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She has just returned from London for Christmas.”
Mr. Darcy bowed, the same look of confused realization washing over his features before he remembered himself and took a seat on a nearby couch.
Elizabeth watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye, not knowing what to think. She wondered if he had determined the truth behind her deception... there was no other explanation for his silence. He could have brought everything crashing down around her, but he had remained silent.
Part of her was desperate to speak to him, to find out how much he knew... but while that would have been possible when she was Mr. Roberts, it would be improper now. But then, everything she had done as Mr. Roberts was improper...
Teatime at Netherfield Park concluded with the party adjourning to the conservatory, Caroline and Mrs. Hurst fell to discussing the conundrum of the rose garden plan while Jane and Mr. Bingley seated themselves upon a delicate bench to speak quietly together. Mr. Darcy took up a place by one of the high windows, staring out over the frozen fountain and snow-covered hedges.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said as she approached. “I have heard so much about your from my cousin, I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”
“Have you, indeed?” Mr. Darcy replied with an arch to his brow. “And what did your cousin have to say?”
“Merely that you were a gentleman who is in possession of a great love for his friends and a desire to see them happy and protected... that your treatment of them is as the treatment one would reserve for dearest family.”
Mr. Darcy inclined his head slightly.
“In that we have a great deal in common,” she said boldly. “I also desire to see my family happy and protected.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Darcy said, turning from the window to look at her. His gaze brushed over her face and her hair, finally coming to rest upon her shoulder. When she had dressed that morning, Elizabeth had hoped that she had chosen a gown that covered the yellowing bruise that remained on her flesh, but it was clear from the change in Mr. Darcy’s expression that she had not.
“My cousin also told me that you hold honesty in high regard,” she said quietly, her eyes never leaving his.
“That I do,” he said.
“I would be honest with you, Mr. Darcy,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “All you need do is ask, and I will tell you the truth.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes flickered over to where Mr. Bingley sat with Jane. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder and saw him take Jane’s hand and she could not help but smile. Nothing could hurt them now, and it did not matter if Mr. Darcy knew their secret.
After a moment of silence, Mr. Darcy’s eyes slid back to hers. “I think, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, that I am entirely satisfied... there are no questions that need answering at this time. Perhaps in the future, I will have questions for you, but today, I have none.”
Elizabeth looked at him carefully for a moment, and then smiled up at him. “I look forward to it,” she said. Her heart beat just a little faster as he smiled in reply.
“As do I,” he said.
The End