The usual long-winded author's note: I'm continuing to share stories that have already been published elsewhere. This one is a short story in three parts (well, more like two small chapters and an epilogue).
I'm not Jane Austen, thus the characters I play with may be OOC or (which amounts to the same in the end) different from what you think is the Canon character, either on purpose or by accident. Also, keep in mind that it's not because I write a character in a way that I approve of what s/he does. Not sure this is particularly relevant for this story, though. I do try to stay more or less historically accurate—or rather, not glaringly historically inaccurate—but I'm not sure of my success, especially since my plots are, more often than not, on the fun side. Or so I hope.
Regarding this story: it was written with a "role-reversal" theme in mind. I had fun playing with idea of Elizabeth doing what was definitely not a woman's job in Regency times. I hope I did't leave too many typos—there is an anachronism, I think, but I liked it too much to get rid of it. ;-)
Also, thank you to everyone who leaves a review. I may not answer, but I love reading them!
It had been said of Darcy that he was very accomplished at writing long and tedious letters of business, but the fact was that he hated this. He could manage his accounts, but he did not like that either. It was a necessary task he had to accomplish because it was his responsibility, but he despised it. Thus, he considered his new secretary as a Gift from Heaven. That person was known to the household as B. Elliot but had not actually met any of his friends—which was to be expected—nor any of the men he did business with—and that was more surprising. B. Elliot seemed to act from the shadows—quite efficiently, for since this addition to his household a few months previously, Darcy had more time to go to his club or receive calls from his friends.
This was one of these times. His cousins had come to visit, and they were currently ensconced in his study, partaking a glass of port while discussing about the Best Way To Deal with their Aunt Catherine—that lady wished to manage her nephew's lifes and was rather persistent in her endeavours—when the butler came to tell Darcy that a young man was calling on him. On asking who it was, he was given a card where J. Bennet could be read in a neat hand-script. His eyebrows rose, and he asked that the newcomer would be lead in the study. Before his butler went away, he added : "And would you please tell Ellie to join us?"
"Ellie?" the elder of his cousins, a Viscount, asked. "Am I to understand that we will shortly meet the mysterious B. Elliot?"
"I wonder what the B. stands for," added his brother, who was a Colonel. "Benjamin? Bernard? Barnaby? Oh—Boris! He's a Russian and fears to be accused of espionage, and that's why you hide him!"
Darcy sighed. "You read too many novels, Fitzwilliam."
Before his offended cousin had the time to answer, the butler was back, and the caller was introduced in the room. It appeared he was a young man of perhaps eighteen, beautiful, whose look could almost be called feminine. Given the state of his dress, he must have been riding for a while, and if he had not been obviously dressed as a man the Fitzwilliam brothers would probably have concluded he was a woman.
On seeing his guest, Darcy, without taking the time to introduce him, enquired about his family. He seemed anxious. The newcomer gave a weary but angelic smile.
"Everything is wrong, sir. That is why I am here—I ran away from home, and wished to join my sister."
His voice was rather high-pitched, Colonel Fitzwilliam mused. Maybe he's not even sixteen yet?
"Your sister is here? Who is she?" asked the Viscount. Darcy and his guest exchanged a glance. The latter shrugged, and Darcy was about to answer, when the door of the study was again opened. A squeal was heard and, in a rush of fabric, a young woman in a rather severe attire threw herself at the neck of the visitor.
"Jane! I missed you so much!"
"Jane?" The Viscount was more than surprised. "You mean that this young man is a young lady?
His brother, for his part, did not feel the need to point the obvious and had come to yet another conclusion.
"And your mysterious Elliot is a woman?"
"Well, yes."
"Now, Darcy, this situation is definitely improper. A female secretary? This is unheard of! I thought you did everything to avoid any gossip attached to your name!"
"This is why I did not advertise the fact she is a woman. And if you do not speak of it, nobody will ever know." Darcy said with a pointed look to his cousins.
"But how did this happen?" the Colonel enquired.
"Miss Bennet had been thrown out of her home by her father and went to see me, hoping I might help her find a place as a governess or a companion. As I was in need of someone reliable to take care of my accounts and business letters, I hired her as a secretary instead. For obvious reasons, she took an assumed name." He did not add that he could not imagine entrusting anyone with the young lady's care. He viscerally had to make sure she was safe. And, if possible, happy.
Meanwhile, a worried Elizabeth Bennet—the astute reader will have deduced that this was the actual name of the young lady who had just entered the room—was pressing her sister to explain the reason why she had undertaken such a long trip.
"Well, a lot happened in the last few weeks. First Lydia and Kitty tried to run away with an officer, but failed—Kitty caught a cold and they were betrayed by her cough. Both thought they were getting married. The tale is all over Meryton. While they are home, they are also shunned." Jane rolled her eyes. "So you see, at that point, there is no need to preserve anyone's reputation. My mother took to her bed, my father locked himself in his library. Oh, and Mary ran away, too—she is the one who actually made it to Scotland, to a Catholic cloister. Then Mr Collins went back and asked for my hand—my mother and Aunt Philips pressed me to accept, and I believe that since he pressed you to accept him earlier, my father was not opposed to the idea. I did not wait for a confirmation of that—I fled. I first went to the Gardiners, but it appears the whole family departed for America some time ago after one of our uncle's venture turned bad. This is why you found their door closed in December."
"But why are you dressed as a man?" asked the Viscount, who was still stuck on that point.
"I could not think of a better way to gain London safely," Miss Bennet quietly answered. "I had already given Lizzy my money when she first had to flee, so I had to ride with my father's horse."
"A female secretary, her sister dressed as a man encroaching on you... Darcy, this is madness. That cannot continue. You know people will speak!"
Elizabeth Bennet looked up. "I am sorry to be so much trouble, sir—I—You have already been so generous, I would understand if you wished me—us—to go." She looked dejected.
"Nonsense! You are needed here. I do not care about whatever scandal, or scandals, surround your family. You and Miss Bennet will always be welcomed in my homes." At this, Jane Bennet looked sharply at him, but he was oblivious to it, and continued. "Of course, I would prefer if you had no further contact with your family, but I understood it to be already the case—well, I suppose that letters to Miss Mary cannot hurt."
"Darcy!" His cousins cried together. Colonel Fitzwilliam went on. "My brother is right—there will be talk, it is only a matter of time before people learn of that situation and begin to gossip. You cannot hide your secretary forever, and her sister is too beautiful not to be noticed."
Darcy looked thoughtful.
"I suppose that there would not be as much speak if the ladies were to be family ..."
Elizabeth looked at him strangely. "I cannot see how that could be ... oh, well, come, Jane. I will make some place in my room for you, and you will refresh yourself somewhat. Do you have a dress with you? Do you need to borrow one?" She promptly left the room, while her employer shook his head, a bemused and slightly frustrated look on his face.
Jane Bennet grinned at him. Some of the things she had noticed when Darcy had been a guest in a estate near their home, and some things her sister had written to her about her employer's manners—always proper, sometime puzzling—suddenly made sense.
"My sister has always been a little dense where you are concerned, sir. But she will come round. I think you will make a fine brother." She then followed her sister, leaving a blushing Darcy and two gaping Fitzwilliams behind.