Elizabeth gasped at the insinuation but did not want to say anything.
Breton continued, “Darcywishedto apologise for whatever offence he might have committed, so he went to her uncle’s house in London the following day. The lady had returned to her father’s house that morning. Determined to make amends,Darcy rode there. I spoke to him before he departed, then left for Pemberley.”
“I see,” Elizabeth grumbled. “He offended the lady, so naturally he decided to chase her halfway across England when she did not want to talk to him?”
“He is nothing if not stubborn.”
“Pray continue.”
“On the way, he found the uncle’s coach with a broken axle, and set about… well, how did he put it… grovelling like a worm was the plan, and I believe he executed it. In the process, he met the woman he wishes to introduce me to. She was a maid of all work, slightly injured in the accident, but she stood up to him like a giant. She was not intimidated by his high-and-mightiness at all. He says she even taught him something about being a proper man, but I must confess, the paragraphs regarding that interaction were muddled. There was something about his mother and some horsewomen, but I could make no sense of it.”
Breton chuckled, and everyone joined in, save Elizabeth, who just sat staring.
“Go on!”
“Well, he made his apologies, apparently at length and in detail, so the sister forgave him entirely. She even thanked him in the end. She decided to seek a fully-grown man instead of a wet behind the ears pup like Bingley, who could be swayed by a few words of caution and that polecat of a sister of his—”
Breton stopped, blushed, and stammered, “Pardon my language.”
Elizabeth laughed gaily. “Which language was that? I have no idea what a polecat is, but if it is a nasty creature, it was an apt analogy.”
“Well, apparently the elder sister was by then thick as thieves with Darcy’s cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh, so all is well. They will attend the season together. The maid has been promoted tolady’s maid for Miss de Bourgh, and Darcy is trying to discover where the second sister is, so he can try to make things right with her as well.”
Elizabeth gasped, though why she should be surprised that Fortuna was playing with her life was quite beyond her at that point. She supposed it made some sense that if she left Hunsford, and he wanted to find her, he would start at Longbourn.
Breton, not quite hearing her gasp, continued, “When last I heard from him, he was staying with the elder sister’s family, along with his cousin Anne, somewhere in Hertfordshire. Apparently, the worm manoeuvre was successful. I believe you know Miss de Bourgh. Darcy will bring my potential bride, Ellen Taylor, next time he comes to Pemberley.”
It was now fully confirmed. The world had gone utterly and completely amok. If Mr Breton was correct, Mr Darcy was sleeping in the guest room lately occupied by Mr Collins, which was apparently reserved for gentlemen whose proposals she rejected, while she slept in a chamber somewhere in the family wing of his estate. It could not be any stranger.
“The first sister, Mr Breton… the younger,” she asked somewhat shyly. “What offence was he trying to make up for?”
Breton shook his head. “He would not say it explicitly. He just said he had dug himself a hole the size of Pemberley and hoped he could eventually dig himself out. I have to say, he sounded determined, but not overly optimistic for a speedy resolution. He anticipated months or years of work.”
Lady Matlock leaned forward curiously. “You never told me how you know Darcy, Elizabeth. Is it possible you know these sisters? Perhaps we can help my nephew together. He trusts you implicitly, so I am surprised he is not here asking for your help.”
Trembling, Elizabeth whispered, “He does not know I am here. He does not have the faintest idea where I am right now.”
She glanced over at the Wythes, all of whom were studiously betraying no clue to their thoughts, nor adding anything to the conversation without her permission.
Everyone in the room was staring at Elizabeth, and she found herself more nervous than she had been when Georgiana appointed her as temporary mistress of Pemberley—by a wide margin.
Everyone seemed to be patiently waiting for her to say something. Why wouldn’t they—she was the mistress.
Finally, Elizabeth took a deep breath, blew it out and spoke.
“I imagine you have all worked it out by now.I am the First Sister.He seems to be sleeping along the corridor frommyroom at my father’s estate in Hertfordshire, and Anne de Bourgh is sleeping in my bed. I can explain that hole you described, if you are curious.”
“Pins and needles.”
Elizabeth blew out a big breath and tried to see if she could get through it with neither tears nor rage, which seemed unlikely.
“Mr Darcyproposedto me in Hunsford six weeks ago. At the time, I quite despised him in general, for various reasons, not all of which turned out to be true. He made a truly dreadfully awful proposal! It was my second truly dreadfully awful proposal in five months. I suppose they teach at Eaton or Cambridge that the fashion was to insult and disparage your intended to show your steadiness. He did this justthree hoursafter your son, Lady Matlock,boasted—quite arrogantly I might add—that Mr DarcyseparatedMr Bingley from a fortune hunter, and claimed it as… what did he call it… ‘the honour of my cousin’s triumph.’”
Everyone gasped, as she continued, “Said fortune hunter was—as you have no doubt surmised—my elder sister, Jane.”
Everyone except the Wythes gasped again.
Elizabeth continued woodenly.
