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Elizabeth could not believe that hope remained. She was certain that she had lost Mr. Darcy forever. But if Anne saw a way out of the dilemma, she was prepared to trust her absolutely.
“I am.”
“As I said, I have no wish to marry a man who loves another, and our interests are therefore aligned. I have a plan which will bring you together with Fitzwilliam, and me with my Lord Northover, and right under my mother’s nose in the bargain. But you must trust me, and do exactly as I say. Are you willing to do that?” Anne was smiling now, and her eyes were shining in the firelight.
“I am your servant,” said Elizabeth.
“Good,” said Anne. “This is what we must do.”
Chapter 18, Strange Bedfellows
January 4, 1813
She knew.
Elizabeth knew everything that Mr. Darcy had done for her family—how he had paid Wickham’s debts, persuaded him to marry Lydia and provided funds sufficient for the couple to live, and how he had even purchased a commission for him in the regulars—and she was unable to thank him, or even breathe a word to the rest of her family.
She knew how much Darcy had had to overcome in order to do that for them. How he had to set aside his implacable resentment, and instead of seeking revenge against Wickham for his treatment of Georgiana, and his undermining of his relationship with Elizabeth, he had had to help the man.
So it was all the more galling now when her mother continued to disparage and decry Mr. Darcy at every opportunity.
“Oh, Jane,” Elizabeth said to her sister, when they were in the living room attendant to their bed chambers and her mother was once again indulging in one of her tirades against Mr. Darcy, “if only mother knew what Mr. Darcy has done for our family.”
“It is enough that you know,” said Jane gently. “Even though you cannot tell me the precise nature of what he has done, I will be content to take your word on it. Indeed, for me, it is an easy thing since I bore him no ill will and my relationship with Mr. Bingley has now been so wonderfully mended.”
“Still,” said Elizabeth. “It is so hard to listen to her going on about him. I thought when your relationship with Mr. Bingley was repaired, that she would see him in a better light, but it has only worsened her opinion of him. She believes that Mr. Darcy is still against your relationship, and that he thinks you are not good enough for his friend.”
“It doesn’t matter what our mother thinks, Lizzy,” said Jane. “Charles has told me himself that Mr. Darcy finds our relationship very agreeable and approves of it, and even though I think he may be stretching the point, I do not think we need have concerns on that account. And, as to Mr. Darcy, I believe that he is sufficiently confident in himself not to take umbrage at anything our mother could say.”
“You’re right, Jane,” Elizabeth said. “I only wish that I could tell her to watch her words. And I wish even more that I could tell Mr. Darcy how wrong I was about him.”
“Anne said that she had a plan whereby you could remedy the situation, did she not?” asked Jane.
Elizabeth nodded.
“Well then, you must trust her.” Jane laid her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “She would not have led you to believe that the situation with Mr. Darcy could be rectified if that was not the case. I do not believe she is the sort of person who would offer false hope.”
“I’m sure you are right,” Elizabeth said. But in her heart, she was perturbed that she was unable to communicate to Mr. Darcy the extent to which her feelings towards him had changed, or even to communicate to her mother the knowledge that would instantly stay her tongue.
“We are strange bedfellows, Fitzwilliam,” Anne said.
“Unlikely allies?” Darcy asked. “How so, Anne? How are we allied?” He was furious with her. “You have much to answer for, cousin.”
They were in the red drawing room, the one place where they could be secure from Lady Catherine’s watchful gaze. A fire blazed in the hearth, but the room was still cold for it was mostly unused, and the fire had just been lit. An untouched glass of claret with a crystal decanter beside it was upon the table. No footman attended them. They were alone.
“I do,” Anne said calmly. “And I will. But first, you must promise me to take no action until you’ve heard me out.”
“I will promise nothing of the kind,” said Darcy. “Did you take the letter from my pocket, or not? You are the only person who knew of it, Anne. I should never have told you of it.”
Anne clasped her hands together and leaned forward in her chair. “I did take it, cousin, or rather, I instructed a servant to take it, but I did so only to help you.
“I have it given to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy was astonished. He was not surprised in the least that Anne had been behind the letter’s disappearance. She was the only one who knew that he carried it everywhere; not even Georgiana knew that. But to steal it and give it to Miss Bennet!
“You have given it to Miss Bennet,” he said, the calmness of his voice belying the fury he felt.
“Yes. I have it given to Elizabeth Bennet because I knew you would not.”
