Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation Page 6

  Elizabeth suddenly felt a surge of homesickness and wished she could hug and kiss her whole family. She realized that despite their financially precarious situation they were lucky girls to be so loved by both their parents and each other.

  When they arrived at Darcy house, they did not go to the solarium, but instead went upstairs to a sitting room in the family quarters. For the first time, she was able to closely observe the two landscapes. Anne was knowledgeable about the artists.

  “My husband inherited a love of art from his mother. She started a collection, and he continues to add to it. These two are recent additions. The one on the left of the country town is by Constable and the larger one on the right of an approaching storm is by a man named Turner,”

  Anne laughed at some reflection before she continued. “The Darcy’s are a family of collectors. My father-in-law collected first edition books and Mr Darcy also enjoys adding to his collection. Even his sister, Georgiana, collects dolls. I have not yet decided what I should collect—though I am thinking I may take over my late aunt’s love for orchids. Mr Darcy is very busy, and he seems to prefer books and art. What do those in your family collect?”

  Elizabeth fingered the cross at her throat as she spoke. “My father collects insects and books. He has a few first editions, but he is more interested in reading the books than preserving them. Thankfully he is very generous in letting his children share. Papa uses his insect collection to illustrate his favourite theological point. When someone asks him what he knows about God. He always answers that the only thing he is positive about is that God seems to be quite fond of insects since he made such an infinite variety of them. He then proceeds to tell them he is attempting to capture every species in order to ensure his entrance into Heaven. Most people do not know what to make of his cynical reply. My sister Mary thinks his remark borders on the sacrilegious. She is very devout and collects sermons.”

  Elizabeth got a nostalgic look on her face as she continued, “My childhood friend Tom, aided by my sister Jane, collected butterflies and moths before he died. My father heartily approved of their endeavour. I guess I collect voices. I try to learn to imitate unusual voices I hear, and then I use them when I tell stories to children. I am particularly good at scary voices. My youngest sisters collect ribbons. I am sure you have realized by now that our collections are suited to people with limited funds. You have many more options than we.”

  Anne laughed at her lively friend. “If you ever meet my mother, you will be able to collect a prime specimen with her frightening voice.”

  Elizabeth looked at the painting of the approaching storm one more time. The way the artist used light made the storm both beautiful and menacing at the same time. She shivered with a feeling of something akin to impending doom as she looked at the painting. She wondered if it was a premonition that it was going to rain. She hoped her new kid slippers would not get wet.

  Anne and Elizabeth were served tea and chatted for a while. Anne was encouraging Elizabeth to accompany her the following week on a shopping expedition; thinking Elizabeth should buy a few gowns before she returned home.

  “Elizabeth, you must see this new gown I had made. I think the style will suit you well. Excuse me while I take your wonderful presents to my room. I promise I will return shortly with the dress. You will see what I am talking about…the fabric is luscious, and the cut of the gown is most flattering for those of us not so buxom. I will only be gone a short time.”

  Elizabeth thought it odd that Anne left by the door to the hall, but assumed maybe the sitting room was not one that was exclusively hers. Elizabeth wandered around the room while she waited for Anne to return. She noticed a pile of books on a table and decided to indulge her curiosity and see what the Darcys were reading. She noticed one was Les Liaison Dangereuses. She heard the door to the hall open and close. Turning around in expectation of being rejoined by Anne, instead, she saw Lord Wolfbridge. Though the Viscount favoured her with one of his brilliant smiles, his eyes had that peculiar look she had noticed during the exchange with his father regarding heads and the French Revolution. That day she had not understood the two men’s meaning but had worried their words were improper. She had forced herself to forget the incident and had never raised her concerns with her aunt and uncle in the interest of being allowed to continue an acquaintance with a family of such prestige and consequence. Still, his presence in this room was very wrong. She remembered as she stared at Lord Wolfbridge’s amused expression, the other times he had asked her questions about whether her father had often had occasion to punish her. Those odd queries had also been conveniently dismissed as just the teasing of a man who she had charmed with her impertinent wit. Dread was threatening to undo her, as Lizzy fervently prayed Mrs Darcy would return and save her from the impropriety of being alone in a room with Lord Wolfbridge. That would allow her not to offend this great man.

  His Lordship flashed his teeth again and said, “Miss Bennet, what a pleasure to see you. You are certainly very spring-like today. I hope you will be warm enough going home. The weather has taken a turn for the worse. It has gotten quite windy outside, and it looks like a storm is moving in.”

  “You need not worry about me, Lord Wolfbridge. I have worn my cloak. I am experienced enough to know how changeable the weather is this time of year.”

  “Oh yes, old enough…but you must promise me, Miss Bennet, that you will not get any older. You are quite perfect as you are.”

  Elizabeth knew she could no longer wait for Mrs Darcy and must do something about the impropriety of her current situation. Still smiling at the Viscount she said, “Lord Wolfbridge, I think I must be leaving.” She cautiously, and she hoped casually, walked toward the hall door. Lord Wolfbridge looked at her as though she were daft. However, he did not try to stop her. As she approached the door, he appeared to be holding his breath, waiting for a desired reaction. React she did when she turned the knob and realized the door was locked. The look of panic on her face seemed to be worth the wait for Lord Wolfbridge.

  Elizabeth was unsure what to do next. She could feel her eyes welling up but refused to cry. He seemed to like her distress, and she was sure tears would make him even happier. He obviously wanted something from her, but she could not figure out what that was. Was this the way men seduced women? If it was, why did he seem to enjoy seeing her suffer? She would have thought the object would be to charm her into forgetting what he was about… reading poetry… telling her of the beauty of her eyes… asking for a lock of her hair. Instead, Lord Wolfbridge just kept smiling at her with those teeth she had thought so beautiful. How silly she had been to think a viscount found her someone worthy of knowing.

  “Your lordship, why are you here?’’

  “I want you.”

  “What do you mean, you want me? Surely you do not mean you desire marriage.”

  His laughter filled the room. “Oh silly, silly girl, of course not. My situation in life, my title, my connections are entirely too substantial to consider wedding someone like you. As I entered, I witnessed your snooping to learn what books I am reading. Upon your recommendation, I am enjoying Les Liaisons Dangereuses.” Waving his finger in mock admonishment, he continued, “You are a very naughty girl, Miss Elizabeth.” She heard him cluck disapprovingly and shake his head, “… to have read such a book. Having just finished the part where the vicomte visits young Cecile in her bedchamber, I became inspired to act out such a scene with you when I found you here alone, I am a viscount like Valmont and you are a little girl in need of training and possibly even a bit of punishment.” He smiled lasciviously and finished his speech with, “I am just the man to provide that for you.”

  Elizabeth shuddered. “Please do not compromise me. I have four sisters and a scandal would be disastrous for their prospects. Please, I beg you, let me leave. I will never tell anyone what you just said.” She gritted her teeth to stop the tears. “Please, I am but fifteen. Please, Lord Wolfbridge, I just want to go home. Plea
se, I am afraid.” Lizzy realized immediately she had said the wrong thing. She saw the look of pleasure that crossed his… could she have really thought him so handsome.

  The Viscount came over to her and put his hand around her upper arm. His hand was huge compared to her arm. She smelled port on his breath. With practically no effort, he pulled her toward the connecting door. The door led to a bedchamber that smelled of pipe smoke.

  Elizabeth realized Anne had not taken her to her own, but instead to Lord Wolfbridge’s sitting room. Anne had said she was her friend. She realized in that instant her situation was hopeless. He was more than twice her size… perhaps even three times. She was afraid to try to fight him… she was afraid to scream. The Darcys’ servants would come and find her alone with him in his bedchamber. None would believe Anne’s role, and all would think she had agreed to be here with him. She was still fighting back tears when she came to a decision. If she went along with him, perhaps an opportunity to escape might present itself.

  Lord Wolfbridge calmly sat down in a chair and proceeded to light his pipe and sip his port. “Now, little girl, I think it is time for you to disrobe. I want to see just how deliciously girlish you are.”

  Elizabeth was horrified at his suggestion. Suddenly she realized there was an avenue of escape in this room that had not been explored. She ran to the hall door and turned the handle…it too was locked. Her breathing became erratic and her knees felt weak. She feared she was about to collapse.

  A horrifying thought streaked through her foggy mind. For the first time, she became aware of what would happen if he ripped her gown. Now that she was convinced there was no escape, she quickly changed her tactics. Her new priority became making sure no one learned of her violation. Her goal was to leave this place without the Darcys’ staff noticing anything untoward. In addition, she also wanted to keep from having to explain a ruined frock to her aunt, and that meant keeping him from forcibly removing it.

  Before acquiescing, she tried one last ploy. “Please sir, I do not want to remove my clothes. My body is not pleasing. My mother complains that I have not become womanly yet, and she fears no man will want me.”

  “What do mothers know? Oh no, little one, I like you this way. You are most pleasing to me. I think I might enjoy disrobing you myself.” With that he walked over to her.

  Elizabeth wished he would stop smiling and showing those teeth. Instead of thinking it the most beautiful smile she had ever seen… all that came to mind was the picture of the big bad wolf in the storybook. She pushed the image from her mind and said, “I will help with the buttons.” She quickly unbuttoned her gown, stepped out of it and carefully placed it on a chair. Standing before him shivering in her chemise, she prayed.

  He had gone back to his chair, port and pipe. With a leer, he said, “Do you want me to help you with the rest?”

  She shook her head in refusal and with bowed head proceeded to remove the rest of her clothing. Raising her head, she observed the look he gave her and heard the words he spoke to describe her when she was naked. Nothing she had ever read prepared her for this humiliation. She closed her eyes and turned from prayer to thinking about anything but her here and now. She thought of dawn on Oakham Mount. She thought of Jane… oh, how she wished she were at Longbourn with Jane.

  “The time has come, Elizabeth, “Lord Wolfbridge said, “to move on to other things.”

  The impropriety of his using her first name registered and she choked back an hysterical laugh. What a ridiculous thing to think of at a time like this. She would allow him to call her anything… or say anything about her if she could just stop him from doing what he was about to do.

  The minute he put his hand around her arm again and started dragging her, Elizabeth receded once more into memories of her life in Hertfordshire. She thought of her childhood…Tom, Jane, Charlotte and Becky…walking the fields …making flower wreaths…Tom teaching her to climb trees while Jane, Charlotte and Becky looked on in horror because they were sure she would fall. She remembered their teasing because she was afraid of horses.

  When he was finished with her, she was unaware of exactly what he had done. Her eyes had remained closed throughout her ordeal and she had desperately tried to stay focused on pleasant images. She had felt pain occasionally and let out involuntary cries and moans. Somehow she had been conscious the sounds she made were pleasing to him.

  After it was over, she lay perfectly still for quite some time. Upon hearing the sound of the door opening and closing, she realized he was gone. Finally she screwed up her courage and walked to the door to the hall and tried the handle. It was unlocked. With disgust, she realized she smelled of him. There were blood stains on the bed linens, and she could also see blood and something sticky on her thighs. Her desire to search for water to wash was overridden by the fear he or Anne would return. Instead she quickly dressed and tried as best she could to tidy her hair.

  Downstairs, she asked for her cloak and was also given the basket in which she had brought Anne’s gifts. She was struck by the complicity of Mrs Darcy. What kind of people were they? They were as depraved as the French aristocracy. Neither cared whether they ruined her life or her sisters’ lives… and probably assumed when they were thrown out of their home and couldn’t afford to buy bread, they could always eat cake.

  She managed to leave the house with no one seeing her except the footman. She would walk home and never tell another living soul what had happened to her—and if she was lucky—never see anyone from this most despicable family again. Her most fervent wish at the moment was that when the Viscount read the end of Laclos’ story, he would feel fear. Elizabeth knew there was no young man who would ever avenge her, but maybe some other young woman would have a loved one who would kill him.

  5 CAN I SEE ANOTHER’S WOE, AND NOT BE IN SORROW TOO?

  Mr Darcy was just arriving home when he saw a diminutive figure in a red cloak coming down the steps of his townhouse. There was mist in the air, and the tiny woman pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. It was the young woman from the theatre, but he could not remember her name. As she passed him, she seemed to be quite agitated. She kept mumbling to herself what sounded like, “beware the Ides of March". She did not acknowledge him, even though he was standing beside his carriage. She began walking away from the house, and he noticed her shoulders would slump and then straighten as though a war was going on in her body between despair and determination. He ran to catch up with her… he could not remember her surname but finally remembered her first name. “Miss Elizabeth, where are you going?”

  She did not look at him, but in a voice that was barely audible said, “Home”.

  “Is not a carriage coming to pick you up?”

  “No.”

  “Where is home?”

  “Cheapside.”

  “You plan to walk from here all the way to Cheapside?”

  “Yes.”

  “The wind is very blustery and it is beginning to rain.”

  “I have a cloak.”

  “But you are not wearing boots, only slippers.”

  “I am an excellent walker. I will be fine.”

  “Do you know the way?”

  “I have made the trip numerous times, and I remember most of the directions.”

  “Miss Elizabeth, it is dangerous for you to walk by yourself. Where are your aunt and uncle?”

  “My uncle is at his warehouse working, and my aunt had to stay home with baby Susan. Mr Darcy, please leave me alone. I do not want to talk… I just want to go home.”

  “Let me take you home in my carriage.”

  For the first time she looked at him and glared, “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I do not want to…Why will you not leave me alone?”

  “You are too young to be out unaccompanied in London.”

  The young woman slumped once again and said in a profoundly defeated voice, “You are right, sir. I am too young and too silly. I should never have
left Longbourn. But please, I want to be alone.”

  Mr Darcy followed behind the young woman who looked very much like Little Red Riding Hood. She was even carrying a basket. For a tiny thing, she could walk very fast. He caught up to her and asked once again, “Please let me take you in the carriage. I am very worried about you. At least let me walk with you.” He attempted to take her arm.

  Her response was loud and fearful, “Mr Darcy, do not touch me!” She paused and looked around to see whether she had drawn attention to them. She seemed to realize she must offer some explanation. “I am very dirty, and I fear I must reek.” She turned and looked at him. Her face seemed haunted and consumed with sadness… and perhaps a touch of madness. He could see tears pooling in her eyes, but there was some inner fortitude that stopped them from rolling down her cheeks. When he met her, she had seemed to have a joyful inner light that gleamed out through her eyes. It was gone.

  What did she mean she was dirty? She looked clean enough, but there was, indeed, a peculiar odour about her. He remembered when he had met her at the theatre, she had smelled of lavender. He could not quite place what she smelled of today. He thought he smelled tobacco smoke. Had she been smoking? That would be very improper… a young woman of fifteen. He dropped back and decided to walk behind her and motioned his driver to follow him.

  For the next hour, they made a strange procession…A demented Little Red Riding Hood, trailed by a very tall, elegant man in black, holding on to his hat to keep it from blowing away, followed by a fancy carriage with the Darcy crest. For most of the time she appeared to be having a conversation with herself. Her arms would periodically gesture erratically or she would smack her head. Oftentimes she hugged herself as if she was cold. He was very concerned that something terrible had happened to her. However, he had little to go on as to her character. He had only spent a small amount of time with her that night at the theatre.