Page 5 of Losing Lizzy
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Elizabeth Bennet took another sip of her tea. As she had always done, she had risen shortly after sunrise—only now she prepared her own cup of tea and hot rolls on a new wood-burning stove she had yet to master, rather than grabbing two rolls from the work table in Longbourn’s kitchen before she headed outside for a walk about Hertfordshire’s countryside. She sighed heavily: She missed her Longbourn family more than she could express in words. “However, this existence is more than I deserved. Papa.” Tears stung her eyes as she recalled her most devoted parent. “Papa fought for me—stood up to all the naysayers anddemanded retribution for Mr. Darcy’s snub.”
Her daily dose of self-pity played out before her closed eyes. She offered up her arguments from long ago on that fateful day and attempted to bolster them with her complete feeling of abandonment. However, a flicker of hope always grew in her chest as she remembered those early days after her being left at the altar.
She and Mr. Darcy were to have married early on Monday morning, and although Mr. Darcy had not returned on Saturday evening as he had promised, she had simply assumed his business had run longer than he expected. Then Sunday, for her, had been a day filled with her mother’s fluttering nerves, as well as details of the wedding breakfast and final fittings of her wedding dress. Realizing Mr. Darcy would not travel on the Sabbath, she assumed he would leave London at the crack of dawn on Monday morning. Their wedding was not scheduled until half past eleven, and he would have had plenty of time to arrive and be at the church before they were to exchange their vows.
Afterwards, she had chastised herself for believing a man of Mr. Darcy’s consequence could truly love a woman of simple tastes and sharp opinions. “Yet, was it necessary for the man to destroy my whole life because of my earlier rebuke?”
As quickly as Elizabeth said the words, she knew them false. Her whole life had not known destruction. In many ways, her current life was superior to anything she had ever anticipated. “Except the man who owned your heart did not love you in return,” she whispered.
Images of the day that changed everything flashed before her eyes. If she were honest with herself, and, generally, she was, she knew when she woke on her wedding day that it would prove to be doomed. She had felt it in her bones; however, she had put her qualms aside, blaming her nerves for her unease, and permitted herself to be carried away by Jane’s and their mother’s enthusiasm, even though she was aware Mr. Darcy had not returned to Netherfield by supper on Sunday evening. Yet, howcould she believe he would not come at all, especially after the evening they had spent together only five days prior? How could she believe he would abandon her? Had she not witnessed the love in his eyes when she had submitted to the desire coursing through both of them?
“Lust,” she whispered in contempt, giving herself time to bolster up her pride once again—to place the blame on his shoulders, as well as her own. “Nothing more. Simply lust and deceit.” She sucked in a deep breath, admitting reluctantly, if only to herself, there had been more between her and Mr. Darcy than simple desire. On her part, it had been love, and, deep down, she, despite her wish to despise him, knew he had not been unmoved by what had occurred between them. “Could it be as others have said? Could it be he truly did his best to return to me?”
In those early hours following her being left at the altar, pure chaos had taken over Longbourn and Netherfield. Although Mr. Bingley, obviously, wished a different course, the gentleman, who appeared equally incensed by his friend’s actions, as was her family, performed honorably by offering Elizabeth his hand in marriage, in order to salvage Elizabeth’s reputation. Most assuredly, she could not think to accept a man who adored her sister Jane, simply to save her, a person Society would assuredly reject no matter what course she chose. Even though all her instincts warned her not to make a sacrifice of her life for that of her family—a decision with which her father adamantly disagreed was spoken to Netherfield’s master. She had gratefully thanked Mr. Bingley for his kind gesture, but she refused him and begged him not to turn from Jane because of what had occurred between Mr. Darcy and herself.
Unfortunately, she had been sent away before anything could be resolved regarding Bingley’s proposing to Jane, for his family had known horror when they learned of Bingley’s kindness to her and had whisked the gentleman back to London before he settled with Jane. A little less than three months after the disaster of her wedding, Elizabeth departed Hertfordshire, escorted, ironically, by Mr. Darcy’s valet, Mr. Albert Sheffield.
“Dearest Sheffield,” she murmured with a smile. “How would I ever have survived without him.”
16 January 1813
Two months to the day after she and Mr. Darcy were to have exchanged their vows, Mr. Albert Sheffield had called upon her and her father at Longbourn with a plan of his own. Her father, at first, had been skeptical, but he had listened to the gentleman because, by then, Mr. Bennet had already run the gauntlet of Mr. Darcy’s uncle, the Earl of Matlock, as well as Mr. Darcy’s man of business and solicitor for her sake.
“I have left Mr. Darcy’s employment,” Mr. Sheffield announced at the beginning of their conversation.
Her father sarcastically remarked, “You have come to your senses then. You no longer wish to work for a man of no character. I am certain Mr. Darcy is pleased with how he has ruined our family.”
Mr. Sheffield frowned then. “Mr. Darcy would never purposely have exacted harm on Miss Elizabeth. Whatever else you may believe of the man, Mr. Darcy loves your daughter with all his heart. I served the man from the time of his mother’s passing, first as his tutor and then as his valet when he left for formal schooling, until two months prior.”
Despite her continual misery, Elizabeth’s bruised heart had cherished Mr. Sheffield’s evaluation of the Derbyshire gentleman’s true feelings for her, especially as her opinions of the man had never proved so accurate as at the moment. Even so, she had wondered why, if Mr. Sheffield still admired the man, why he left Mr. Darcy’s employment. None of what occurred since that fateful day had made any sense, and she had begun again to question both her feelings for the man who had betrayed her and the reason for said betrayal.
“If Darcy loves Elizabeth,” her father had accused, drawing her from her musing, “why did he not appear at the church to exchange vows with my daughter? And why has he not personally addressed the issue of what he owes to Elizabeth,instead turning my negotiations over to his uncle? If Darcy thinks the Earl of Matlock will intimidate me, the man has made a mistake. I have known plenty of men of Matlock’s ilk in my life, and despite being only a country squire, I have never stepped aside nor permitted those full of self-pride a path through me.”
Mr. Sheffield shifted uncomfortably and appeared pained by what her father had disclosed. “I cannot say for certain what arrangements Mr. Darcy has made with Lord Matlock regarding this matter. In truth, I have not spoken to Mr. Darcy since he sent me forward to Hertfordshire in preparation for his wedding. I traveled with the party, which included Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy.”
“Was not the man at Darcy House when you three returned to London?” her father demanded.
“No, sir.”
“I believe you must provide an explanation of what occurred,” her father instructed. “This is the first I have heard of this situation. I was led to believe Mr. Darcy refused to speak to me himself.”
Mr. Sheffield pulled himself up stiffly, as if delivering a message to the King. “When the colonel, Miss Darcy, and I arrived at Darcy House, an absolute hue and cry reigned. Evidently, Mr. Darcy had not been seen for three days. In the master’s absence, Lord Matlock had released Mr. Thacker, the Darcy butler of some twenty years, for lodging objections on how the earl had conducted a search for the master. When I, too, expressed my concerns, I was ordered to leave Darcy House without a reference. Such would have been my fate if Miss Darcy and the Countess of Matlock had not intervened. However, I knew I would pay for my impertinence; therefore, I tendered my resignation.”
Unable to stifle her question, Elizabeth asked, “Do you believe Mr. Darcy met a tragic end?”
Surprisingly, Mr. Sheffield’s eyes filled with tears, triggering her own quick remorse. “I know the honor with which Mr. Darcy has always operated.” A slight blush marked his cheeks when he explained. “Although I was not intended toknow of your rebukes of Mr. Darcy’s hand in Kent, the master’s many drafts of the letter he must have presented you before our departure were left to me to dispose of. I had never before thought to read any of the master’s correspondence, but I did on that occasion because I viewed the pain upon his face as he left Rosings in search of you and the great sense of loss in his stance when I encountered him that morning. I feared for him, for I had only viewed that expression two times prior with the passing of each of his parents.
“I must tell you, Miss Elizabeth, in all honesty, although I am certain such was not your intent at the time, you performed a great service to Mr. Darcy that evening. You presented my master’s world a good shake, one he had required for some time. He had become too comfortable with his consequence and was traveling down a road I had feared he would soon regret. You made him a better man, and I can say, without a doubt, if he had had to crawl on his hands and knees to stand between you and the world, he would have gladly done so.” Elizabeth instantly thought of how Mr. Darcy had arranged for Lydia’s marriage to Mr. Wickham in order to save her family’s ruination. Surely, he would not have exacted his revenge later. “Mr. Darcy would not have deserted you as long as he breathed the breath of life.”
A shudder of dread had raced down her spine. Despite the Derbyshire gentleman’s previous rejection, Elizabeth had always thought, if Mr. Darcy could be reached and informed of her current condition, he would have acted honorably. Yet, if he were dead, as Mr. Sheffield insinuated, likely, she would be truly on her own. The bottom fell out of her world, realizing, belatedly, she had always held hope Mr. Darcy would act the gentleman and make her whole again. How could she continue on without that hope? She doubted she was strong enough to face the world she would know as her future.
Her father asked, “I return to my previous question: Why have you sought us out today?”
Mr. Sheffield smiled tenderly upon her. “If Mr. Darcy has passed, Miss Elizabeth is never likely to earn true retributionfrom his estate. I have experienced Lord Matlock’s means of solidifying his family, and, although I realize you have done the best you can for your daughter, I am certain whatever terms you were presented are not enough to keep Miss Elizabeth from a life of penury. Mr. Darcy would not have wanted your daughter to suffer.” The gentleman cleared his throat from the emotions filling his words. “I am more fortunate than many men who choose to serve fine gentlemen, for I have been privy to many conversations between Mr. Darcy and his various men of business. Therefore, when the master thought to invest in a project, so did I, but on a lesser level. When he sold his investments, so did I. Although not of his consequence, I am a wealthy man. It would be my wish, if your daughter is willing, sir, to accept Miss Elizabeth in my household in whatever capacity she feels comfortable in assuming.”
“You are offering Elizabeth marriage?” her father asked in obvious suspicion.
