Page 57 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

It would have been nice to have someone to talk to about it, though. Kitty and Lydia, like their counterparts in the book, would only care if something salacious happened between us, and Mary, also like her character, keeps to herself. Normally I’d tell Amelia, but I never want her to find out about the letter; and besides, our leisurely pursuit time here is smack-dab in the middle of her workday.

“What is it, Papa?” Mary asks.

“Oh yes, Mr. Bennet, do not keep us waiting,” Mrs. Bennet says.

I love that we all stay in character, even when Lady Catherine isn’t around to make sure we’re doing it right. We have staff here to cook and clean for us, and obviously Jane works for the park,so there are people watching, but I doubt with the same vigilance as Lady Catherine.

“As it turns out, our dear Elizabeth”—he looks to me—“the first one, that is, has awakened and is in good health.”

“Oh,” I say, a hand going to my chest. The surge of relief that runs through me is so palpable, I actually tear up. Monroe is okay!

“That’s right wonderful to ’ear,” Kitty says, her cockney accent coming out.

Everyone at the table is thrilled by this news. It’s amazing that Monroe was only here for a day and yet made such an impact on everyone in such a short amount of time. It’s admirable.

“Will she be returning to us?” Jane asks, probably trying to figure out whether she’ll be going back to what she was doing before—whatever that was—or staying on as the character.

“As of now, no,” Mr. Bennet says, and a wave of disappointment seems to ripple through the room. Lydia slumps back in her chair, while Mary furrows her brow.

I’m disappointed she’s not coming back too, but the overwhelming relief that she’s okay far outweighs it. I feel I now can finally embrace the role of Elizabeth and enjoy this trip I won, without the guilt and worry hanging over me. I still feel bad that because of me, she had to cut her trip short. And I’d still give up being Elizabeth in a hot second if she were to return, though I’m sure she’d demand we both play the role.

After we eat, Lady Catherine arrives to give us our direction, in a large lavender-colored ensemble—lots of cleavage today—her gray wig decorated with feathers and butterflies, and some of the staff and other guests come with her to watch the next scene. I’m a bundle of nerves waiting for the reprimand regarding romantic pursuits and wondering if she somehow knows it was Zane and me. I’m not sure how she would—the men we sawlast night don’t know us, and if they described what we were wearing, it would match the description of pretty much everyone on the property, given we are all in costume.

“Well,” she begins. “I trust you have all managed to compose yourselves adequately after last night’s ... amusements at the Meryton assembly? I must say, some of you were dangerously close to breaking character. I shan’t name names, but rest assured, I took note.”

We all look at each other then, Lydia and Kitty giving each other wide eyes, making me wonder what those two managed to get into. I did see Lydia leaving the assembly with a man. I wasn’t sure if it was a local or a staff member. But I’m guessing that if Lady Catherine saw, Lydia probably wouldn’t be here about to act out scenes with us today.

“We have a most important day ahead, and no time to squander,” Lady Catherine says. “Jane, you will be departing for Netherfield shortly—sans horse, I’m afraid.”

I’m sure Lady Catherine hates this change. It’s not canon, after all.

“After the luncheon, Elizabeth, you shall follow,” she goes on. “Upon your return, we will welcome Mr. Collins to Longbourn, and thereafter, make the acquaintance of Mr. Wickham. There will be a brief respite for dinner, after which you are to ready yourselves for the Netherfield ball. I demand your complete focus and utmost diligence to ensure everything proceeds flawlessly. There will be no room for idleness or errors.”

I nibble on my bottom lip, waiting for her next words. But my racing heart and sweaty palms are for naught because the words never come. Instead, she says, “Now, no time to waste! I expect precision and propriety at every turn.”

She claps her hands twice, and Mrs. Bennet begins the scene where Jane goes to Netherfield.

AN HOUR LATER, I’M WALKING to meet Jane—who is now taken ill and stuck at Netherfield, the poor thing—in a simple cream gown and a shawl wrapped around me, despite the sun shining brightly overhead and the comfortable temperatures. But we must stick with the script, of course. And in the book, it is a cold and rainy day. I guess we’ll have to pretend my petticoats are covered with mud when I arrive. I’m honestly surprised Lady Catherine didn’t make me change into a costume covered in mud. How very noncanonical of her.

As soon as I arrive, Lady Catherine is there to give me instruction, and my heart palpitates as I wait once more for her to say something about last night. She doesn’t, though. She sends me to see Jane first, who’s playing sick in one of the rooms upstairs, before instructing me to go back down to act out the scene with Bingley, Caroline, and Darcy.

After visiting Jane—who does a fantastic job of acting under the weather while a small gathering of onlookers watches us do the scene—I feel butterflies in my stomach as I make my way to the drawing room, excited to see Zane. I’m also sort of nervous for some reason, which is stupid. Regardless, the fluttering multiplies when I see him, standing by the window, his back to me. And yes, I can verify, his butt does look good in the breeches.

You are ridiculous. You are silly. Jane Austen would be appalled.

I take a seat on the chair near the hearth with a book in my hands, as previously instructed by Lady Catherine.

Zane turns then, finding me there, his lips pulling up into a smile, one that’s filled with the memories of secret meetups andnearly getting caught, and I give him one back. We quickly drop them, though, when Lady Catherine takes her seat in the corner, near the people who have gathered to watch this scene, and she clears her throat, indicating it’s time to begin.

“Miss Eliza Bennet, how admirable of you to walk all this way in such inclement weather. Surely you must have quite the constitution to endure such trials,” Caroline Bingley begins the scene, giving me a haughty look. Though it’s supposed to be acting, it doesn’t feel like much of a stretch for her—it’s how she’s looked at me since she arrived, as if she were born to play the part.

“Why, thank you, Miss Bingley,” I say, returning the arrogance with a cool, measured half smile. “I suppose one might call it determination—or perhaps mere stubbornness. Either way, I would not have stayed away while my sister needed me.”

“Indeed,” she says. “Though I must wonder: Had you considered the impropriety of arriving in such a state? One would hate for others to form the wrong impression.”

“Oh, I am quite accustomed to forming wrong impressions of others, so I would not begrudge them doing the same about me.”

Caroline turns away in a huff, and then Zane looks at me, and I will myself not to smile at him.

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