Page 41 of Pemberley's Imposter
Darcy strode to the door only to linger on the threshold for an eternity, and he did not turn when he addressed her. He could not bear to look into her eyes now that he had become aware of the full extent of his failings.
“You were never destitute, Elizabeth. The twenty thousand pounds I settled upon you is yours. You have a bank account at Child & Co in London, where I have also deposited your unspent pin money. The interest is enough to live comfortably. Another thirty thousand will be settled on Ellie once I reach London. Good-bye, Elizabeth.”
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Elizabeth’s bathwater was ready in her dressing room. Somehow the servants expected her to stay in the mistress’s chamber, and she was too tired to protest.
She let herself sink to the bottom of the copper tub, submerging herself entirely under the water—a luxury she had not experienced in two and a half years; the tub that had been brought up to the nursery was a small wooden one, made to fit a child.
A maid entered and washed her hair but left her in peace once the task was completed. Her thoughts drifted to Mr Darcy’s departure. It was obvious he was going away for some duration. Perhaps he anticipated a long trial in court?
A heart is such a fragile thing, breaking too easily—impossible to mend once broken.
She would find contentment like that she had experienced growing up at Longbourn. Two and a half years of struggle had ended; there was truly nothing to be concerned about. She had a fortune to see her safely settled in a decent house should the need arise. Yet, she felt as poor as she had been when she was living in a cottage with only seventy pounds per annum…
By the time Elizabeth had dried her hair and dressed, the colonel, Georgiana, and Mr Darcy had left Pemberley.
Jane and Charles waited anxiously for her in the blue parlour whilst Ellie and Charlie were playing in the nursery.
After Elizabeth had related the horrors of their abduction and revealed the real culprit to the Bingleys, a week passed with no word from Mr Darcy. The second week also came and went before a carriage was spotted approaching the house.
Elizabeth hoped Mr Darcy had concluded his business sooner than he had expected; the coach carried the Darcy crest.
Elated, Elizabeth hastened out onto the portico to greet her husband. The vehicle came to a halt, and a footman opened the carriage door.
A tall, distinguished gentleman alighted, but he was a stranger and not her husband. Eagerly she waited for another face to appear, but to her disappointment the footman closed the door and sent the equipage to the stables.
The gentleman approached her with a superior mien.
“Mrs Darcy, I presume?”
“Yes, I am she,” Elizabeth replied, curtseying.
“I am Mr Knightley, the attorney who handles your husband’s legal affairs. I have brought papers for you to sign.”
“Mr Knightley, would you like to refresh yourself before we proceed? Mrs Reynolds will see you to a chamber where you can rest after your journey.”
The attorney looked relieved. It must have been a taxing, hot journey at the height of summer.
“Thank you, Mrs Darcy. That would be much appreciated.”
Elizabeth turned to Mrs Reynolds with a questioning look. The housekeeper answered with a barely perceptible affirmative nod.
“Mr Knightley, follow me,” Mrs Reynolds offered.
The duo left Elizabeth, who rubbed her arms despite the balmy August air. She was disappointed and apprehensive and knew exactly why.
Mr and Mrs Bingley looked surprised when she entered the parlour alone. They too must have espied the Darcy carriage coming down the drive.
“Is Mr Darcy not with you?” Mr Bingley questioned.
“No, it was not him but his attorney, a Mr Knightley, who has arrived. Mr Darcy must have lent him his carriage. He has brought papers I need to sign. Do you think he wants to bring mea suit ofdivortium a mensa et thoro[1]?” Elizabeth whispered to her sister.
Jane gasped and looked towards Mr Bingley for support. He met his wife’s gaze but did not speak. The question demanded more thought than a hasty reply.
Mr Bingley tarried too long, and Elizabeth rose to pace in front of the windows. Her unease was too great to sit in idle thought.
“Do you want a separation, Lizzy?” Jane enquired.
