Page 6 of Pemberley's Imposter
Her feet took her to her old chamber. The bed was not made, but she did not care. She found an old throw, untied her stays, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
#
The surprise was great when Elizabeth appeared in Longbourn’s breakfast parlour the next morning. Loud exclamations were heard coming from Mrs Bennet about her illustrious daughter’s visit. Her explanation for being left by her husband, who supposedly had continued on his way to town on business, was immediately accepted without question. Mrs Bennet could see nothing suspicious in the story. Elizabeth was content her father had managed to offer a plausible excuse explaining why there was neither a husband nor a carriage presently at Longbourn.
The first thing she noticed whilst buttering her roll was the improvement in Mary. Her middle sister had blossomed during the two months Elizabeth had been away. It made it easy to steer the conversation away from herself. Mary basked in the attention and eagerly related her beau’s many excellent qualities.
Whatever concerns Elizabeth might have felt were assuaged by what her sister shared. Mr Batford was Mary’s perfect match in every way. It was with relief she acknowledged the pleasure her sister’s prosperity brought to herself; it was only her own affairs that left her emotionally numb.
Kitty was quiet during Mary’s speech but held a secret smile that threatened to erupt. The reason became obvious when Mrs Bennet revealed that Mr Lucas, Charlotte’s brother and the heirto Lucas Lodge, was expected home in the near future. He had enlisted in the navy, despite being the heir to an estate. If the rumours were to be believed, he was returning with a hefty sum of prize money; only time would tell. Elizabeth still saw the value of money but no longer believed it created the happiness her mother assumed.
All in all, breakfast went well. Mrs Bennet’s only concern about her daughter’s sudden appearance was to decide whom they should visit first. She eventually concluded that her sister, Mrs Phillips, should have the honour, but Elizabeth begged off, professing to be too fatigued from her travels.
Mrs Bennet made unintelligible delighted sounds and winked at her. She obviously had a different opinion about the reason for Elizabeth’s fatigue, asserting Jane to be the product of her own wedding night, when a simple calculation would indicate her arrival as five weeks early.
Elizabeth’s fatigue lingered throughout the day. The visit to Mrs Phillips was postponed, and she was granted a day of rest, but it did not suffice to restore her to her former self. In fact, she doubted she would ever feel like herself again. For the present, she was detached from her inner being, regarding herself from outside her body.
Mrs Bingley was expected to return to Netherfield on Twelfth Night. After a quiet family Christmas, Mrs Bennet kept Elizabeth busy, dragging her around on numerous visits while she waited for her sister to come home. The smile she plastered on her countenance from early morning to late in the evening was wearing her down. She was anticipating letting it drop when Jane returned and allowing herself to grieve.
#
Longbourn, January 5th
The Bingleys stopped at Longbourn on their way back to Netherfield. Somehow, Elizabeth had imagined the reunion with her most beloved sister to be in her sole company.
Jane and Mr Bingley brought gaiety to the house. Delighted after celebrating their first Christmas together, they radiated happiness and exquisite felicity. Jane pulled Elizabeth into a fierce embrace, exclaiming how delighted she was to see her.
Elizabeth could not bring herself to burden her sister with her sordid tale. It would be cruel to lay the heavy weight of her misery on Jane’s delicate shoulders. She might even sow discord between the bride and groom; Mr Bingley was Mr Darcy’s dear friend, after all, and the Bennet family needed one good marriage to secure their future.
Jane solicited her sister’s news, but Elizabeth immediately moved the conversation on to the Bingleys’ sojourn to London. The plays they had seen and the shops they had visited were thoroughly discussed until the couple had to leave. Elizabeth had even managed to add a few tidbits of her own that Georgiana had shared from her prolonged stay in London, creating the appearance that nothing was amiss. She could not yet bear relating anything from Pemberley because the wound was still raw.
Elizabeth followed her father to his study as soon as the door closed behind her sister and brother. She sat in front of him and begged him to find a means for her to escape.
“Papa?” She had not called him that since she had become betrothed to Mr Darcy. “Please tell me you have found a place for me to live.”
“I have, child. But I thought you intended to stay the month complete.”
“I cannot. It would look strange for me to remain apart from my new husband for so long. I cannot invent more lies, nor can I feign a gaiety I do not feel.”
“I understand your plight,” Mr Bennet assured her. “We shall leave for London early on the morrow. I shall take you to Gracechurch Street. Your uncle has found a cottage to rent within my means. I must warn you, though, it is small, and you will not be able to live the way you have been accustomed to.”
“I did not assume I would,” Elizabeth replied. Relief washed over her at the mere thought of leaving.
“Mr Gardiner has graciously offered to give you five hundred pounds in addition to my fifty pounds per annum, but you will have to make it last. I hope you will not touch the capital your uncle has offered you but can manage on the interest. After I am dead, it will be up to Mr Collins whether he will allow you to keep the allowance. You will be on your own unless your uncle has mercy on you and gives you something more, but I may surprise you all and outlive him. Bear in mind that the one thousand pounds from your mother will go to your husband when her time comes. You cannot count on those funds either.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Elizabeth rose and hurried to her chamber. Tears were spilling down her cheeks, but they were not brought on by grief; rather, they were tears of relief. Relief that she would no longer be required to maintain this fraudulent impression of happiness.
That night, Elizabeth slept soundly.
#
Gracechurch Street, London, January 6th
Elizabeth’s pretence crumbled the instant she laid eyes on her aunt Gardiner. No amount of effort could prevent the tears from falling or the sobs from escaping her throat.
Her cousins looked upon her with uncertain faces as she bent to greet them with fierce hugs and proclamations of joy at seeing them.
