Page 10 of Pemberley's Imposter
The colonel was one to speak about feelings. He was, after all, the one who had shattered his heart and then had the audacity to complain it was broken.
“I doubt it. There have been wolves spotted lurking in the area,” he said indifferently.
“Improbable. Wolves have been extinct these past two hundred years…”
The colonel’s eyes suddenly widened. He was looking over Darcy’s shoulder, where Georgiana had frozen mid-step. Darcy pinched his nose. He should have moved the conversation to his study, but he no longer had one. It was currently under construction, and he currently saw to his correspondence in his bedchamber.
“Wait for me in the yellow parlour, Georgiana. I shall be with you in but a moment. Colonel Fitzwilliam is leaving.”
Georgiana awoke from her daze and left with haste. She was such a dear girl, never complaining nor arguing. He turned to his cousin and glared at him. Richard took the hint and walked to the door, where he halted on the threshold.
“I am thinking of resigning my commission after this last assignment. I am leaving for Portugal in two weeks.”
What did he expect him to reply? That he would pray for his safe return? The colonel was in for a cruel awakening if that was the case.
“I shall pray Boney finds you before your assignment is over.”
The colonel left without a backward glance. Fortunately, Georgiana had not been within hearing range of his parting words.
His sister was waiting for him in the yellow parlour, sitting primly on the edge of her seat as an accomplished lady should. Which was why her words took him by surprise.
“I would like to know what happened between you and Elizabeth that made you hate her so much. I hear pieces and rumours, but I do not understand. Please, William. I beg you not to leave me in ignorance. I have to know what caused it so that I can avoid similar treatment.”
Darcy was shocked to his core. Never had he imagined his sister harboured such doubts about his constancy towards her. She had nothing to fear from him. It was of the utmost importance to lay her concerns to rest. He searched his mind for his choices but concluded that his sister could withstand being told the truth. She had once been crossed in love herself. She should know that women could be as depraved as men.
He related the awful night as best he could, leaving nothing out. Not even his feelings, nor theirs.
Georgiana looked thoughtful when he had finished. He waited for what felt like a quarter of an hour before she replied. When she did, it was not what he had expected.
“She looked annoyed, then surprised, but did not look horrified until she turned and saw Cousin Richard? Do you think she could have spoken the truth? That she truly believed it was you who was embracing her?”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam and I are not of the same stature, Georgiana. Do you not think she would have noticed the difference in our heights or the size of our hands? Besides, our cousin made himself known to her as soon as he entered the library.”
Georgiana nodded, and he left her to her thoughts. It was a difficult subject for his sister. She had formed an immediate bond with the hussy at their first meeting. What would he not have forsaken to have that impetuous deed undone.
Chapter 4 Subsistence
Elizabeth had not been long in her quaint cottage of two rooms before she realised she would need to learn much more than cooking in order to fend for herself. Not much food could be prepared without firewood—nor water.
Her home had a small parcel of land; it contained no trees, but a well had been dug by a previous owner. She would have to enquire whether she would be allowed to gather dry wood from the forest near her cottage once she had discovered who owned it.
Elizabeth walked to the village on the following morning and found a small shop that sold everything one might need—except for meat, which she would have to buy directly from one of the farms if she could ever afford such a luxurious commodity. Her father and uncle had managed to find a rural, godforsaken place to hide her disgraceful self.
To concoct a story was necessary because the dratted wedding ring was still lodged on her finger. Everyone who saw it would know she was married and might probe after her husband’s whereabouts. She could not dye her clothes black because of the simple truth that she could not afford to buy new ones when her fraudulent mourning period supposedly ended. Therefore, she referred to her husband as missing rather thandead. It was not a lie despite the fact that his whereabouts were known to her—he was essentially missing from her life.
What she had not anticipated were the looks of pity she received from asserting her husband was missing. People leapt to the conclusion that he was a soldier—a misconception she chose not to contradict.
It was fortunate Elizabeth rarely had business in the village as prevaricating was not her forte. She could not afford to buy much and rarely sent any letters. The latter deprivation was partly an attempt to discourage any from being sent to her as the postage was expensive. In addition, her father had ordered her not to send any letters directly to Longbourn. The post office was run by Meryton’s most practised gossip, and letters arriving in Elizabeth’s hand from the wrong part of the country would undoubtedly raise her suspicions. Elizabeth included the few letters she wrote to her father and sisters inside her aunt Gardiner’s correspondence. Usually, these were only to Jane with a postscript of consent to read it aloud to her mother and other sisters. The letters were vague and evasive but truthful. She divulged as little as possible about herself but deliberately made it look like estate and household matters were taking up much of her time, which could not have been more true—just not in the way it was perceived.
Not that she believed the truth could be concealed for all eternity. It was to be hoped that it would remain a secret until Kitty and Mary were married and her heart had healed. She was counting on Jane’s wedded bliss to cloud her mind for the duration; Elizabeth had not noticed the world at large during her short period of delirious felicity.
Inevitably, the day would come when Mr Darcy encountered Mr Bingley in town—if he had not already divulged the sordid tale in a letter. The latter she doubted due to Mr Darcy’s privatenature. He had been afforded ample opportunity to write to Mr Bingley if he was so inclined, yet nothing had been mentioned in Jane’s letters. She was more concerned that Mr Bingley’s impulsive nature would send him on an impromptu visit to Pemberley, where he would discover her disgraceful departure. What would they think of her when they heard of it? A light-skirt who had cuckolded the husband she had so recently married. Somehow, she could not imagine Jane ever thinking ill of her, but Mr Bingley was Mr Darcy’s particular friend.
Elizabeth counted herself lucky when the owner of the woods allowed her to gather what fuel she needed. She had scarcely any money to offer as payment, but the landlord, a widower, had a daughter. With no mother to teach the girl, Elizabeth was hired to do her hair for special occasions and teach her to play the pianoforte in exchange for the wood. It was an advantageous arrangement for both parties. There were few sources of entertainment in their small community, but sometimes Elizabeth was invited to stay for tea, which saved her the cost of a meal.
Spring arrived with sunny weather and warmer days, but planting her vegetable garden was exhausting work, especially for someone not used to physical labour. She was glad she had spent most of her childhood out of doors or she would not have managed.
A new development was the necessity to hire a maid for at least a certain period in the late summer, but the wage she could spare was so meagre that she hesitated to make enquiries.
