"Good morning, madam. I am looking for the owner."
"I am Mrs. Rush."
"I mean Mrs. Bennet."
"She has gone, sir."
"Gone?"
"Yes, sir. I have been her successor these four years. I took over the shop last night. I am Mrs. Rush now."
"Where did Mrs. Bennet go?"
"I have no idea, sir. Might your wife be requiring services, sir?"
"Not just now, but I am certain my sister will be by sooner or later."
"I shall look forward to it, sir."
"Mr. Huston, where has Mrs. Bennet gone."
"I have no idea, Mr. Darcy. She said Goodbye, but did not wish to put me in an awkward position, so she did not tell me. I am sorry sir."
"Blast!"
"Have you a particular interest in Mrs. Bennet, sir? I know I am just an old bookseller, but I look on her as family and would not like anything bad to happen to her."
"You need have no fear, Mr. Huston. My intentions are honorable. I just wish to help her, but I believe I frightened her."
"She is not easily frightened, sir."
"No, I imagine not, but I managed to do it. Made her quite angry too."
"I am sorry sir. I cannot help you."
"Do not worry Mr. Huston. I honor you for your protection. If you should happen to hear from her."
"I will not tell you, Mr. Darcy."
"I would not expect it. Just tell her I am sorry… for... and I beg her to relent and talk to me."
"I shall pass the message if I can, but Mrs. Bennet does not usually dwell on the past. She will not contact me again."
"I thank you, Mr. Huston."
"Jane, Charles. Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Fitzwilliam. What has happened? You look as if you have seen a ghost."
"That is exactly what Emma Bee said… and it seems I have."
"Explain yourself?"
"Please sit down, Jane."
"Oh, dear… that bad?"
"Yes, that bad."
… …
"That will be all, Mrs. Reynolds."
"Yes, sir."
… …
"Out with it, Fitzwilliam!"
"I met Emma's mother."
"How bad could that be? She is a delightful young lady, and her mother must be nothing but the best of women."
"Oh, she is, I can assure you. The most delightful and impressive woman I ever met in my life."
"So, why the long face, sir?"
… …
… …
"Spit it out, Fitzwilliam?"
"I met young Miss Bee when she was but five. You both know how she likes to give everyone animal surnames, and we have never changed the practice. Her appearance has changed dramatically in the past five years while I was away."
"Yes, Fitzwilliam. I saw her in the village last year. Her hair color and facial features changed so much she was hardly recognizable, although her personality still shines from a dozen paces."
"Yes, I noticed her altered appearance… altered so much that… I recognized her. Remember that time we all thought she reminded us of someone? It turns out she did. Emma Bee is actually Emma Bennet. Her mother is Elizabeth Bennet. She has been here right under our noses for over a decade."
… …
… …
"Elizabeth… Elizabeth… Elizabeth… After all this time! ELIZABETH… We must see her at once! Call the carriage!"
"We cannot?"
"Why ever not?"
"We quarreled, and… and… and… she has left, I know not where?"
"What did you quarrel about?"
"Well… well…"
"Fitzwilliam…"
… …
"Out with it Darcy! You are looking quite wretched, but frankly I am much more concerned with my sister."
… ...
"Charles, do you remember the day I fell from Poseidon while the Bennets were at Netherfield and Mrs. Thompson gave me a dose of laudanum?"
"Yes, I remember exactly. You thought ants were pouring down the wall like oil from a barrel. Then you thought your valet was plotting with Napoleon against you, and if I remember correctly, I believe your bedding was either afire or infested with rats… or maybe both. It was all quite diverting until you fell into a deep sleep."
"Yes, I imagine it was."
"I believe the Bennets left early the very next morning while you were still abed. Then of course, we had several days of rain, and then the ball. We left Netherfield the next day, and you and Caroline persuaded me to stay away."
… …
"Charles…"
"Save your apology Darcy! I cannot stand another one. Jane and I have left it behind, so you should too. It all worked out in the end. We are happy."
"Well, I brought it up for a reason. I have to make a confession."
"This sounds… serious."
"It is."
"Best get on with it, man."
"Well… that night… as you mentioned, the very last night the ladies spent in Netherfield, the ants and rats were seemingly not my only dream. I believed I had the most intense dream of… of… of… well, of having… er… relations with Miss Elizabeth… marital relations."
"YOU DID NOT!"
"I am afraid I did."
… …
"I see why you have never confessed it all these years. Rather unseemly for the fastidious Fitzwilliam Darcy, but I imagine we all have our dreams. I daresay… well, I shall discuss my dreams with my wife, but not you. I imagine it is quite natural to dream of a Bennet sister."
"Yes… To my chagrin, I was besotted with her and did not even know it. I thought her unsuitable, and ran from her like a cur. The dream was entirely too intense and lifelike. It frightened me to death."
"Well… it is a bit unseemly, but this dream does not seem so very terrible, Fitzwilliam. I know you did not like Elizabeth, and she barely tolerated you, but… how bad could it be?"
"No Jane, it was the best dream of my life… and your sister disliked me, but I did not dislike her at all… only… well…"
"Out with it, Fitzwilliam. What did you quarrel with Elizabeth about and how are they related."
"I showed her this?"
"Is that Emma? I saw her last year while you were in Boston. She has changed so much since we last met her together, what was it, perhaps four or five years ago? I could barely recognize her. Now, this is her exact likeness. What are you doing with this, and where did you get it? Why are you carrying a miniature of my niece, Fitzwilliam?"
"That is not Emma. That it is my mother at fifteen."
… …
… …
"So, you are implying…"
"I am not implying. I am saying it outright."
"Say it plainly, Darcy."
"That night in Netherfield was no dream. It happened! I imposed on your sister, Elizabeth, in the worst possible way. I am Emma's natural father, and your sister hates and fears me so much she came within an inch of having her footmen threw me out in pieces. Then she disposed of her shop overnight and disappeared. Oh, and by the way, she is Mrs. Rush, and she has been making dresses for all of my relatives for years."
"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"
"That was badly done, Darcy. Very badly done. I very well should call you out over it."
"Yes, I am afraid so. You would be well within your rights."
"Is that why you are unmarried at over 40, Darcy?"
"Yes. I did not know about the child, but I thought… well, you know what we all thought. We have believed her dead all these years."
"We must find her!"
"She has not contacted you in all this time, Jane. Why is that?"
… …
… …
"Jane"
… …
… …
"Jane"
… …
… …
"It starts to make sense. Father learned she was with child, but I do not believe she would identify the father and I never suspected you. Frankly, I was incapable of even entertaining the thought. With the whole regiment in town, there seemed much likelier candidates. I am the only one that knew about… it, and only because I overheard Father having a row with Elizabeth when everyone else was away and he thought I was away too."
"What kind of row, my love?"
"A very bad one. Well… Elizabeth was sick when we returned from Netherfield, and the symptoms were very much like my illness so we all assumed she had caught it. The symptoms changed over a fortnight. First she was feverish and had something like I had but worse, then it gradually seemed to change to a stomach ailment where she could not hold anything down. She never really recovered."
"Take a deep breath, my love."
"Elizabeth was in bed most of the time between leaving Netherfield and the ball. Father somehow worked out the truth, and he took her away in our carriage. He told everyone she was ill, and going to an eminent physician in Bath. Eight weeks later, he told everyone in the neighborhood that Elizabeth was… dead… that she had succumbed to her fever. That was all before Charles and I were reunited. I do not know if he believed or fabricated it, but he was very convincing. I did not believe the part about going to Bath and the physician, but I did believe she was dead. I could not conceive of Father lying about something like that."
"If your father was not already dead, I would go kill him."
"Steady on, Darcy."
"Do not judge him too harshly Fitzwilliam. Charles had not come back yet, nor did he seem likely to, and Father's health had declined precipitously. His very survival was in some serious doubt. Elizabeth's abrupt departure over supposed health concerns had created speculation and the potential for scandal, no matter how we tried to cover it up. Our prospects were meager at best. Imagine what they would have been with a declared scandal instead of an implied one. Father was belatedly trying to protect what we had left."
"Still would kill him."
"It is too late for such thoughts now. His efforts were too little too late, but in the end, he at least tried. Elizabeth really was ill when we returned from Netherfield, and was sick as could be for a fortnight before she left. That is why she did not attend the Netherfield ball, and enough servants saw the symptoms to believe it a fever. Nobody suspected the real cause. I would have stayed home with her, but Mama forbade it, and with Papa showing signs of weakness, I could not disagree with her… for once in my life. Our position was… precarious, and I did not believe Elizabeth that ill."
"So, your father pretended he was taking her for treatment?"
"Yes"
"Do you think your father knew it was me, Jane?"
… …
"Jane?"
"I doubt it. Even the most indolent father in the world would have hunted you down and made you marry her. Lizzy either did not tell him, or he did not believe her. The episode was… well… it was loud, and it was unpleasant. It was all over quickly and she was gone before I even knew. I doubt she believed Father capable of such cruelty."
"Here, take my handkerchief my love."
"Why would she not tell him?"
"You say she is still afraid of you sixteen years later, and by all accounts keeps a footman capable of doing you harm? Do you imagine she wanted to be forced to marry you back then? After what you did? Forgive me for saying it, but she was being perfectly rational. Who would willingly sign up for that experience for the rest of her life?"
"No, I imagine not. I was such a fool, and she paid the price."
"She never wrote even once after she left, but it seems likely the family that Father placed her with just did not allow her the privilege. We all thought her just too ill. Father said he took her to a physician in Bath. I knew better, but I do not believe anyone else did. He claimed he had learned it was consumptive and highly contagious, so none of us could go nurse her, even if my mother would allow us to leave when there were two eligible men to be hunted. It was only six weeks or so before Father told us the story of her death. He wove his story about the disease progressing until she finally succumbed under the care of a good physician and nurse. I imagine she must have run away, and the family father placed her with tried to cover it up."
"So, she has been alone, friendless, penniless and unprotected all this time because she was stubborn."
"OR AFRAID! Do not minimize that, Fitzwilliam. You have not the right. You have no rights at all, I am afraid! I am curious though, why do you say 'stubborn'?"
"She has lived in Kympton, 25 miles from Pemberley, on the road to London, for well over a decade. She made Georgiana's come out ballgown and her wedding clothes. She could have introduced Emma any time, or learned my true character from my sister by simply asking, but she chose not to."
"If you accosted her in her bed, probably violently, and abandoned her, do you blame her?"
"No, I cannot. I must find her and make amends."
"She does not want to be found. You should leave well enough alone. She was clear enough."
"I cannot."
"If you hurt her again, Darcy, you will answer to me."
"Understood. I will be very careful, but I cannot leave it as it is."
… …
… …
"We will help you Fitzwilliam, but you should understand you are on very thin ice."
"Understood."
"Perhaps I should be the one to contact her, Fitzwilliam?"
"No, Jane. This is my mess to sort out; and do you think she knows Georgiana personally and would be unable to find you if she wanted to talk to you?"
"No, I imagine she knows I overheard the row and did not intervene. She probably hates me as much as she does you and my father. I was formerly her closest confidant, so my betrayal was probably the worst of all."
"Perhaps… We must be very careful."
A/N: I would like to acknowledge another writer and recommend a story. I got the idea for the laudanum fueled sex from the most excellent story Havenswood by Babsy1221. I didn't mention it earlier because it would be a bit spoilerish. I highly recommend it.
