Page 76 of Attempted Compromises
The young woman turned pleading eyes to her brother. “Georgiana is far too shy to play in public,” Darcy said swiftly, rising to his sister’s defense. Georgiana’s cheeks burned crimson, and Elizabeth felt a pang of embarrassment for her mother’s behavior.
Charlotte Lucas lingered near Elizabeth, her eyes flickering with barely concealed envy. “Two sisters married on the same day,” she murmured. “How remarkable.”
Elizabeth hesitated, trying to deflect the comment. “It is a somber day, Charlotte. A man has died—”
Charlotte’s tone grew sharper. “And yet, you find yourselves marrying men of wealth and status; the most eligible bachelors in the county, in fact. A tragedy for some is fortune for others, is it not?”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush, but she bit back a retort. “I have no interest in such fortune,” she said quietly, but Charlotte merely gave her a superior, knowing look and moved away.
∞∞∞
The breakfast ended soon after, and Elizabeth retreated to her room to change and collect her valise. She paused at the threshold, her gaze sweeping over the familiar space that had been hers for so many years. The patchwork quilt on the bed, the well-worn books on the shelf, the little vase of flowers she had picked only days ago—all of it felt heartbreakingly small and comforting, filled with memories of laughter, arguments, and quiet solitude.
Her fingers brushed the edge of her writing desk, the place where she had scribbled so many thoughts and letters. It hit her, then, with the force of a wave crashing against the shore.
I will never be here again as Elizabeth Bennet. I am Mrs. Darcy now.
A sob rose unbidden in her throat, and she sank onto the edge of her bed, tears spilling down her cheeks. She pressed her palms to heated cheeks, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all—the loss of her independence, the uncertainty of her future, and the weight of marrying a man she barely understood. Burying her face in her hands, she gave way to her sorrow as sobs wracked her body.
“Elizabeth?”
Her head snapped up, her tear-streaked face meeting Darcy’s concerned gaze. He stepped into the room, his brows furrowing as he took in her disheveled appearance. He sat down heavily at her writing desk. “Are you… Is marriage to me truly so terrible?” he asked, looking up with haunted eyes.
Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of that look, but she knew that she didn’t want to be the reason it was there. She shook her head vehemently, her voice trembling. “No, it isn’t—please don’t think that. It’s just…” She gestured helplessly to the room around her. “This has been my home for so long, and now…”
“I see.” He studied her intently, his expression unreadable, but the fear was gone.
Before she could say more, Jane appeared in the doorway. “Lizzy, the carriage is ready.”
Elizabeth nodded, gathering her composure. She took one last look around her room, then followed Darcy and Jane downstairs, bracing herself for the journey ahead.
As the carriage rolled toward Netherfield, Elizabeth sat in silence, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words.
∞∞∞
Dinner at Netherfield was a subdued affair, the lively chatter that usually accompanied such occasions noticeably absent. The massive dining room only magnified the silence, particularlyas Mrs. Nicholls had decided that a more intimate setting was appropriate for the light wedding supper, and had instructed the servants to leave the sumptuous spread on the buffet and then vacate entirely. The candles cast long, flickering shadows across faces masked in varying degrees of tension, fatigue, and grief.
Georgiana, sitting to Elizabeth’s right, made a valiant effort to maintain the conversation. “The flowers in the church were so lovely.” Her voice carried an almost childlike enthusiasm. “I’ve never seen such a delicate arrangement of garlands.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, though her thoughts were far from the flowers. She nodded absently, her fork tracing the edge of her plate. “It was a beautiful ceremony,” she agreed, though her voice lacked its usual spark. Her thoughts wandered to the moments in the church—Darcy’s solemn expression, her own faltering hesitation as she said the words that bound them for life.
Jane and Bingley, at the other end of the table, seemed oblivious to the subdued mood. They exchanged quiet smiles and murmured to one another, their happiness forming a bubble that excluded everyone else. Elizabeth’s heart warmed to see Jane so content, but the sight also heightened her own sense of unease.
Darcy excused himself to retrieve another helping from the buffet. Mrs. Hurst, on Georgiana’s left, had barely touched her food. Her complexion was ashen, and the dark circles under her eyes betrayed a profound weariness. She held her fork limply, pushing a morsel of fish around her plate without ever lifting it to her lips.
Elizabeth hesitated before leaning toward her. “Mrs. Hurst, are you feeling well? Can I do anything for you?”
Mrs. Hurst’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “I think you’ve done quite enough, Miss Bennet,” she hissed coldly, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “If it weren’t for you, my husband would still be alive.”
Georgiana gasped, and Elizabeth winced. The accusation struck her like a physical blow. Her breath caught in her throat, and she blinked rapidly to push back the tears that threatened to spill. She forced herself to take a steadying breath; fortunately, Mrs. Hurst had spoken softly enough that only Elizabeth and Georgiana had heard her.
“If I could change what happened, I would,” Elizabeth said quietly, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. “I never meant to intrude. I only wanted to ensure your health doesn’t suffer.”
Her gaze drifted to Mrs. Hurst’s stomach, the faint swell just visible beneath her gown. Mrs. Hurst followed her eyes and stilled. For a moment, the two women simply looked at one another. Then Mrs. Hurst’s expression softened, and she sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s just… I’m so angry at Caroline, and she isn’t here for me to tell her…” Her words trailed away, and she gave a pitiful shrug.
Darcy returned with his plate and Georgiana relaxed, visibly grateful not to be the only person within earshot. Elizabeth nodded, her heart aching with sympathy. “I understand,” shesaid gently. “I know something about younger sisters behaving in less-than-appropriate ways.”
