Page 7 of Losing Lizzy
“I cannot say who is to blame, but I am certain you will recognize the patterns with just a glance at the ledgers,” Fitzwilliam confessed. “I believe tomorrow, you and I should begin a thorough accounting of the books.”
Darcy nodded his agreement, but thoughts of Elizabeth still distracted him. “Would you speak to me as to what occurred at the church when I did not appear?”
Fitzwilliam shook his head in what appeared to be regret. “It was pure Bedlam.” His cousin’s brow wrinkled in displeasure. “It was I who delivered the announcement to those gathered at the church that you had not returned to Netherfield as we all had expected you would. Mr. Sheffield came looking for me when it was well past time for you to arrive.”
“Elizabeth?” Darcy demanded. He cared not what the good citizens of Meryton thought of him. Only Elizabeth’s thoughts mattered.
“I was not watching Miss Elizabeth when I spoke to the room at large, but Georgiana was. Your sister reported that the lady’s expression was one of resignation, as if Miss Elizabeth had half expected it to be so.”
“And afterwards?” Darcy asked. Regret filled him—for the pain Elizabeth had endured, for, although different from the physical pain he had suffered, a pain that cut deeper than the cat-o’-nine-tails used on his back. He also knew regret for what was, likely, the end of his dream to know Elizabeth as his wife.
“Georgiana and I rushed to London, only returning to Netherfield long enough to pack our belongings.”
“Neither of you spoke to Elizabeth? Neither of you assured her something monumental must have occurred to prevent me from not exchanging our vows of marriage?” Darcy asked in agitation.
“I attempted to offer some sort of explanation; however, the lady’s father ushered her quickly from the room, sending rebukes my way to be delivered to your door when I next encountered you.”
“Then Elizabeth was offered no comfort,” Darcy reasoned. “Oh, my dearest girl, how you must despise me,” he murmured in despair.
Fitzwilliam argued, “It was you who knew the whip of a hard taskmaster.”
“I would suffer it all again to remove the stain upon her life.” Darcy swore under his breath. “A whip is never so sharp as Society’s tongue.” He swallowed the emotions rushing to know a release. “Finish it. Finish the tale so I know it all.”
Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement. “Once we recovered your footman’s, Davis, body in the Thames, we assumed you had known the same fate,” his cousin explained. “Unfortunately, that was some five weeks after your disappearance. Georgiana and I had a long conversation, with your sister insisting I save Miss Elizabeth’s reputation by offering her marriage.”
“Did you?” Darcy held his breath. Although it would have been a brilliant marriage for Elizabeth, he was glad she would never know the Earl of Matlock’s contempt.
“It was some three months after what occurred at the Meryton church that I made my way to Hertfordshire. Sometime in mid-February. I must tell you, Mr. Bennet’s ire had not lessened. It took all my powers of persuasion to convince the gentleman to speak to me, for he was less than pleased to see me on his threshold.” Darcy held his breath and waited for news of Elizabeth marrying another. “I was told Mr. Bennet had negotiated a living for his daughter.”
“How much?” Darcy demanded.
“Two hundred pounds per year for life.”
“With whom?”
“Your man of business, but I assume such means with Matlock’s approval,” Fitzwilliam confessed.
Darcy’s mind raced to understand what exactly had occurred. “Two hundred is not ideal.” He thought whoever arranged it had likely thought Mr. Bennet a fool, but they had erred. The man had accepted less than Elizabeth deserved, but she would still be receiving funds against the Darcy estate even if she chose to marry another. Her father had managed his own revenge with a yearly reminder of all Darcy had lost. “Yet, Elizabeth could survive on that amount if she is sensible. Does such mean she refused you?”
“I never had the opportunity to extend my offer. The ladywas no longer at Longbourn,” Fitzwilliam explained. “I was sent away without speaking to her.” His cousin settled his gaze upon Darcy. “I know what you are thinking. Your hopes are she remains unmarried.”
“I must discover the truth,” Darcy argued. “Please share anything you are withholding from me. I do not think I can exist another day without knowing if there is any possibility Miss Elizabeth has not married another.”
Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement. “I knew your sister would demand the same truth for which you ask. Therefore, when I departed Longbourn, before leaving Hertfordshire, I called upon Colonel Forster to learn something of what had occurred after I departed Meryton. I knew the colonel would keep my questions to himself and not add to the gossip surrounding the Bennets.”
“And?”
“You will not wish to hear what the colonel shared,” Fitzwilliam cautioned.
“Yet, I must.” Darcy resigned himself to his worst fears.
Fitzwilliam sighed heavily. “Bingley offered for Miss Elizabeth after the Bennets all returned from the church, but your lady refused him.”
Darcy said with some assurance, “Elizabeth would not claim Bingley’s hand and rob Miss Bennet of knowing Bingley as her husband.” Darcy admired his friend’s honor, but he had no doubts Elizabeth never entertained the gesture for even a moment. One of her initial dislikes of Darcy’s person was his objection to her sister.
“Perhaps Miss Elizabeth should have claimed the honor of Mistress of Netherfield, for, according to Forster, Bingley’s sisters insisted upon his leaving the area before he committed another error in judgment. Bingley did not renew his option on Netherfield when it came due the following Michaelmas. According to some of your shared acquaintances, he has not returned to Hertfordshire. It is assumed, with Miss Lydia’s questionable marriage to Wickham and Miss Elizabeth being left at the altar—” At this point his cousin raised his hands in a signof surrender before continuing. “Through no fault of her own, the assumption remains that the other daughters have been shunned by suitors.”
“Poor Miss Bennet,” Darcy whispered. “The lady deserved someone better than a mercurial shipowner.” After all he did to return Bingley to Miss Bennet’s side, his friend again had listened to his sisters and had proved himself unworthy of Jane Bennet. “In many ways, I wish now I had not allowed Miss Elizabeth to sway my earliest decisions on the lady. Miss Bennet would have been better off with another.” He straightened his shoulders to hear the rest of his cousin’s tale. “Anything else?”
