What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (4 page)

‘Forgive me, Hugh,’ Holly said, choosing for the moment to ignore her ladyship, ‘but why, exactly, don’t you want this Elizabeth Bennet to know that we’re engaged?’

‘It’s not that I don’t want her to know we’re engaged,’ he hedged. ‘It’s just… I need to break the news to her myself, first, because…’

‘Because Elizabeth fancies herself in love with my brother,’ Harry cut in. ‘Or at least, she used to do. I imagine she still does.’

‘Is that true?’ Holly asked. She met Hugh’s eyes. ‘Is she in love with you?’

‘Once upon a time, perhaps,’ he admitted, and picked up his spoon. ‘But it was ages ago, and it was gratitude, not love, only because I helped Miss Bennet through a difficult time after her mother died. She was sixteen.’ He laid his spoon back down and cleared his throat. ‘I mean to say, Miss Bennet was sixteen. Not her mother. Obviously.’

‘That’s not how I remember it,’ Harry said, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. ‘The pair of you were inseparable, as I recall.’

‘Enough, Harry.’ Lady Darcy spoke quietly, but her words were firm. ‘Of course we’ll keep the engagement to ourselves, darling, if that’s what you wish,’ she assured Hugh. ‘Until such time as you tell Elizabeth…’ She gave Holly a pained smile. ‘Until you can share your happy news with her.’

***

The next morning dawned clear and warm, and as Lizzy let herself outside, her hands cupping a mug of tea, she breathed in the scent of hydrangeas and honeysuckle that hung on the air.

The terrace flagstones were warm and smooth beneath her bare feet as she joined the others and sat down, oblivious to the sounds of birdsong from the nearby woods. ‘Good morning.’

As she’d expected, her father and sisters were sprawled – well, only Charlotte was actually
sprawled
– in chairs, sipping coffee or tea and reading the newspapers.

‘Good morning, my dear.’ Mr Bennet stood and bent down to brush his lips briefly atop her head. ‘You’ll have to excuse me. I’m off to the village for my morning ride.’

‘Must you ride that old bicycle through the village every day?’ Emma complained. ‘You look like Father Brown.’

‘I can think of worse things,’ he replied, unperturbed. ‘Although Father Brown really
should
wear a helmet when he rides. Safety,’ he tutted, then left.

Emma rustled her paper in annoyance but didn’t bother to respond.

‘What are your plans today, Charli?’ Lizzy asked her youngest sister as their father trudged off. ‘Are you going to the circus in Torquay?’

‘Dunno.’ She didn’t look up from her perusal of
Hello!
‘Ooh, look at this! It says here that Ciaran Duncan’s right next door at Cleremont, filming
Pride and Prejudice
.’

‘Yes. I saw him yesterday.’

Charli gasped and flung her magazine aside. ‘What? You saw him and you didn’t tell me? Did you talk to him? What did he look like? Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on screen?’

‘I didn’t think it was worthy of mention,’ she said, and lifted her brow. ‘We didn’t speak; he was studying a script. And he looked exactly like Mr Wickham, in his breeches and boots and regimentals. And yes, he’s very handsome.’ She frowned. ‘Wasn’t he engaged to that department store heiress last year? The blonde one, what was her name…?’

‘Holly James.’ Charlotte retrieved her
Hello!
magazine and began flicking once again through the pages. ‘Yes, they were engaged for about ten minutes. I often wonder why they broke up after only a week. I bet there’s a story there.’

‘Who knows?’ Lizzy said, and shrugged. ‘Actors are odd ducks. From what I’ve heard, Ciaran is the perfect choice to play Mr Wickham. He’s a player, and
not
just onstage.’

‘Well, of course he is,’ Charli said, and smirked. ‘I wouldn’t mind playing with him.’

Lizzy frowned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. He’s far too old for you, and he has a very bad reputation. Besides, he wouldn’t give you a second glance, not with Cara Winslow and all those other pretty actresses in his orbit.’

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. ‘I bet he would. I bet he’d give me a second glance, and perhaps even a third.’

‘Well, you won’t be finding out,’ Lizzy retorted, ‘at least, not today. We’re all going to the circus.’

‘What fun,’ Emma said, deadpan.

‘It
will
be fun.’ Lizzy, her mind made up that she and her sisters were going to the circus, glanced at Emma. ‘We can all go, you and me and Charli, and spend the day together. It’ll be like old times.’

Like it was before their mother died, she meant. When they used to do things together as a family.

‘Sorry, but I’m going out to lunch with Harry later,’ Emma said, not sorry at all. ‘Which reminds me – I need to start getting ready.’ She picked up her tea and newspapers and departed without another word.

‘Cow,’ Lizzy said, but without much feeling, and glanced at her sister. ‘What about you, Charli? You and I can still go, make a day of it. Stuff our faces with chips and Chupa Chups.’

Charlotte laid her magazine aside with a sigh. ‘I suppose we could. I don’t much like the circus, but I can’t bear the thought of sitting here like a saddo all day.’

The two girls got dressed and left a note on the kitchen table for Mr Bennet to say they’d borrowed his Mini, and drove themselves into the bustling seaside town of Torquay to spend their day at the circus.

***

It was late afternoon when Lizzy and Charlotte, sunburnt and feeling faintly nauseated from too much sugar and not nearly enough sun cream, returned home with peeling noses and aching feet. The stuffed giraffe and hedgehog they’d won were tossed on the back seat, and their faces were sheened with perspiration.

‘I’m going upstairs to have a lie down,’ Charli said. ‘I feel awful.’ She eyed Lizzy in pity. ‘Ugh! You’re as pink as a lobster.’

Lizzy groaned. Why did she never remember to wear a sunhat?

‘Had fun, did you?’ Mr Bennet asked as he glided up on his bicycle and dismounted.

‘We did. And don’t tell me you’ve been out riding this entire time,’ Lizzy said in surprise.

‘No. I rode over to say hello to Araminta Hornsby. And to take her some scones I made this morning.’

Poor woman
. ‘And who is Araminta Hornsby?’ she asked, curious. ‘I’ve never heard you mention her.’ She fell into step beside him as he headed for the front steps.

‘She’s the new church organist. She has a real flair with those foot pedals and stops.’

‘Elizabeth!’

She turned around, startled. Only one person ever called her Elizabeth.

‘Hugh,’ she breathed, and stood rooted to the spot as he approached.

Chapter 5

Hugh Darcy wore khaki trousers and a white polo shirt, and his feet were thrust into a pair of dock shoes. He was alone.

‘I apologise for my appearance,’ he said, almost as though he’d read her thoughts. His face, unlike her pinkish one, was lightly tanned. ‘I just got back from Longbourne. We… I went down to check on the
Pemberley
.’

The
Pemberley
, Lizzy knew, was the Darcy family’s yacht.

‘Oh.’ Surprise crossed her face. ‘Did you plan to enter the regatta this year?’

He shook his head. ‘No, I haven’t the time. Harry’s keen, though. He and my father have signed up for the yacht races, and I wanted to make sure the
Pemberley
’s up to the task.’ He stretched out his hand to Mr Bennet and smiled. ‘It’s good to see you again, Father.’

‘And you, Mr Darcy, and you.’ He clasped Hugh’s hand and beamed. ‘But it’s “Mr Bennet” now, you know. I’ve retired. I’ve been put out to pasture and now my flock has a new shepherd.’

‘I’m sure everyone in the village misses your sermons a great deal,’ Hugh said. He glanced at Lizzy. ‘And your scones.’

She bit back a smile.

‘Well, just between you and me,’ Mr Bennet said, and leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile, ‘I quite enjoy being retired. More time to bake.’ He straightened. ‘Ah, where are my manners? Might I offer you refreshment? A blueberry scone, perhaps?’

‘Oh, no, thank you,’ Hugh said quickly. ‘I admit,’ he added, and cast Lizzy an uncertain smile, ‘that I’d hoped to borrow Elizabeth for a few moments, if I might.’

Her heart leapt. Hugh had come here to Litchfield Manor to see
her
.

‘Well, Lizzy’s a grown woman,’ Mr Bennet said. ‘No need for my permission, unless perhaps you plan to ask her to marry you!’ He chuckled.

‘Daddy!’ Lizzy muttered, horrified.

As he registered their twin expressions of embarrassment, her father cleared his throat. ‘Well, then. Perhaps I’ll just leave you two to talk.’

Mortified, Lizzy watched him go. Why on earth had he brought up the subject of marriage, and in front of Hugh, of all people?

‘I’m sorry,’ she began, and grimaced in apology. ‘I dearly love my father, but he often doesn’t think…’

‘It’s fine.’ His eyes crinkled as his smile deepened. ‘His tact is second only to his scone-baking skills.’

Lizzy laughed. ‘That’s very diplomatic of you, Mr Darcy.’

His smile faded, and a serious expression took its place. ‘I wonder if we might, perhaps, take a walk? I’ve something to tell you, Elizabeth, something that’s rather important.’

‘Of course.’

They began walking across the field that led to the apple orchard, silent as their feet followed the dirt track. The field was bordered on one side by a stone wall choked with brambles and wild carrot. The drone of bees and the distant rumble of a tractor were the only sounds.

‘Are you home to stay?’ Lizzy asked after a moment, as the silence stretched and lengthened.

‘No. I’m on holiday. I’ll be leaving again at the end of the month.’

‘Oh.’ Only one syllable, Lizzy reflected, yet it carried a world of disappointment.

‘And what of you?’ he asked. ‘Are you back from London to stay? The last I remember, you were working for a publisher in…’ he frowned. ‘Clerkenwell, I believe.’

She smiled. ‘You have a very good memory. Yes, I was with Aphrodite Books for five years, but…’ She shrugged. ‘I was made redundant and couldn’t seem to land another job, so I decided to let my flat go and come back home.’

Of Mark Knightley, and her pleasant but short-lived relationship with him, she said nothing.

‘I’m sorry.’ He glanced over at her. ‘But I’m glad you’re back.’

‘Me, too. Glad you’re back, too, I mean.’

‘Will you stay, do you think?’

She considered. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. There’s nothing here for me, really, unless I want to manage a hotel or sell 99s and Magnums from a refurbished ice cream van.’ Her smile was wry. ‘And my sister Emma has things well in hand at home.’

‘She’s very organised, isn’t she?’ he agreed, and returned her smile. ‘I’ll put out some queries when I get back to London if you like,’ he offered. ‘See what I can find.’

‘That’s very kind. I’d like that. Thank you.’

They walked for several more minutes before Hugh cleared his throat and stopped. He took her hands in his. ‘Lizzy, before we go any further, there’s something important I need to tell you. There’s a reason I’ve come back to Cleremont.’

She looked up at him expectantly, and although she kept her expression unremarkable, her heart gave a little lurch. After all these years, could it be…?

Lizzy allowed herself a moment of blissful fantasy. She imagined that Hugh had realised, after nearly eight years, that bachelorhood wasn’t quite what it was cracked up to be, and so had come back to Litchfield to ask her to be his wife. She’d become the mistress of Cleremont eventually, with Hugh Darcy by her side, and the first thing she’d do was redecorate that godawful private sitting room upstairs…

‘Lizzy?’

With a blink, she came back to the present. ‘Sorry.’ She smiled in apology. ‘You know me, always gathering wool.’

‘The thing is, Lizzy,’ Hugh said now, his fingers tightening in hers, ‘I’ve always cared deeply for you. And I always will.’

She managed to nod, her heart racing. ‘I feel the same.’

‘I want you to understand that nothing will ever change that.’

‘Yes.’ She was giddy, positively giddy with anticipation. Could it be that her one, constant hope for the last eight years – that Hugh Darcy would realise and admit his love for her – was finally about to come true?

‘But life, as you know, brings change, and challenges, and when the unexpected happens, one must respond.’

Lizzy nodded, her heart beating so quickly with excitement she feared she might implode.

‘I never planned for this to happen.’ His eyes searched hers. ‘It came completely out of the blue.’

Well, not exactly out of the blue, surely
, Lizzy thought with a trace of surprise. They’d known each other since they were children, after all.

‘But honesty compels me to tell you, before you hear the news from someone else.’

She blinked, momentarily nonplussed. Hear
what
news from someone else, exactly? Surely a marriage proposal should come from one’s husband-to-be, not from someone else…?

‘And so it pains me to tell you this, Lizzy, but the fact is, I…’ He stopped. ‘I’m engaged. I’ve asked Holly James to marry me.’

Lizzy stared at him.

All of the blood, the life, the joy, drained away from her with his words. She stared at him, not comprehending. What he said made no sense.

‘You – you’re getting married?’ she said. ‘To the department store heiress?’

‘Yes, I am.’ He looked, not happy, but subdued.

All of Lizzy’s imaginings – Hugh’s proposal on bended knee, her blushing acceptance, the engagement ring they’d pick out, living together in Cleremont, raising their children and maintaining his family’s legacy – all of it vanished, gone in a moment with the utterance of one devastating sentence.

‘I see.’ She took her hands, carefully, from his. ‘Well, then, congratulations! I’m very happy for you… both.’

She turned away and began to walk, slowly at first, and then more quickly, back to Litchfield Manor.

‘Lizzy – wait.’

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She kept walking, because to stop meant he’d catch up to her, and if he did, he’d see her crying. And that would never do.

‘Lizzy, please!’ He pelted up behind her and caught her by the shoulder and turned her around. ‘I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just – I wanted to tell you myself, before you heard it from someone else.’