Nowhere near Darcy House
London, England
Miss Elizabeth Abigail Bennet, second daughter of Sir Thomas Edward Bennet of Hertfordshire was a dead woman.
If the two rather large gentlemen chasing her succeeded in their task they would no doubt see to it in a rather painful fashion. She attempted to put this thought from her mind as she walked as fast as a proper lady could down the sidewalk. She stopped abruptly and turned into a side alleyway, one she had stocked the day before for just such an occasion. Opening a large box perched next to fortuitously placed crates, she pulled out the absolute ugliest hat in existence. Her favorite disguise. The puce colored monstrosity sported a full headdress of long plumes, varying in color but none of them subtle. Hiding in plain sight had always been her modus operandi. She pinned the hat on quickly before grabbing the parasol she had also hidden and exiting the alley in a regal fashion. She hadn't strutted ten steps before she heard the loud footfalls of the gentlemen chasing her. They had come up the alley next to the one she had changed in and they passed her quickly and with complete disregard to individuals in their way.
With a slight shake of her head she decided the title of gentlemen was quite the misnomer.
Elizabeth was not fool enough to feel the danger had entirely passed but she couldn't help the lessening of tension in her shoulders. She stopped and crossed the busy street as quickly as she was able before entering a rambling park. She kept to the heavily populated areas only, though she was personally more keen to enjoy the less fashionable scenic routes, and kept a sharp eye on her surroundings. She smiled knowingly as she caught glimpses of wide eyes following her movement.
Well, following her hat.
When asked later, none of them would be able to give an accurate description of the woman underneath the mess of feathers.
On the other side of the park she was able to hail a hackney to take her to the other side of town where she exited four blocks from her true destination and wandered in and out of shops before settling in at her rendezvous point.
Gunter's tea shop was crowded, Elizabeth had made it to the shop just after four in the afternoon and the fashionable crowd were beginning to descend upon the eatery in earnest. She walked in and ordered herself a tea before sitting in a chair opposite a gentleman reading a newspaper. She sipped her tea daintily and stood, leaving her reticule on the table. The gentleman moved his newspaper in front of the reticule and surreptitiously pulled it into his lap. As Elizabeth turned to walk away he flagged her down and handed her a second, similar reticule.
"Oh, how forgetful of me!" She very nearly squealed, maintaining her disguise. "Thank you, kind sir. I was just off to the shops, this would have been missed." She smiled and turned to walk away before the man could reply. He rarely did.
"The Bishop'll be looking for his part." He said, very nearly to her back.
She stopped suddenly, her extremities numbing immediately, and turned her head to the side slightly to see the man nod. She straightening her spine and departed the shop.
Wellesley wanted to see her.
Nothing good ever came from that man.
/
Elizabeth trudged up the stairs to the foreign minister's office with dainty yet leaden steps. Her dread seemed to be manifesting itself in her feet as they begrudgingly carried her forward.
She took a deep, calming breath as she reached the top of the stairs only to have it forced from her lungs as she collided with a wall.
A wonderfully scented wall.
The wall pushed her backwards before she regained her senses and stepped aside. The wall in question turned out to be a devastatingly handsome man with a face of stone and eyes of ice. He did not seem to notice her in the least, nor did his steps falter as he made his way with single minded intensity down the stairs she had just climbed.
She tilted her head to the side as she watched him momentarily. He seemed to radiate grief and she had the unnerving desire to comfort him.
She shook her head in disbelief before turning again to face her fate.
The anteroom to the foreign minister's office was occupied by a diminutive man with round spectacles perched precariously on the end of his nose. Elizabeth was delighted to see Mr. Marley again.
"Mr. Marley, you are fully recovered!"
The man stood behind his desk, barely reaching the same height as Elizabeth and bowed low.
"So you see, Miss Bennet. I feel good as new." He bent his leg at the knee a few times so as to prove his claim and Elizabeth laughed.
"I am so glad to hear it, how long have you been back?" She couldn't help but glance at the door behind him, her wariness written on her face.
Mr. Marley ignored her question and addressed her facial expression instead. "Don't you worry, Miss Bennet." He soothed in a quiet voice. "I will leave the door cracked when I show you in and I will be right outside. He won't try again, 'tis not in his nature." He smiled at her and his cheeks pushed his spectacles high on his face.
She couldn't help but be bolstered by the man. She nodded to him and he straightened bringing her around his desk to the door and patting her arm in comfort before opening it to announce her arrival.
"Miss Bennet to see you, Your Lordship."
Wellesley didn't bother to look up from the paper he was reading and Elizabeth moved to stand in front of his desk. True to his word, Marley kept the door slightly ajar. Wellesley eventually looked up, eyes narrowing at the open door before turning his glare on Elizabeth.
"Miss Bennet." His cadence was clipped and his tone that of a severely annoyed man.
Elizabeth curtsied. "Your Lordship. You wished to see me?"
He looked at her for a long while, staring openly and sizing her up and down. Her stomach turned slightly and every fiber of her being wanted to run through the open door but she would not offer him the pleasure of seeing her squirm.
She straightened her small shoulders and glared back at him.
"Have you thought of my offer, Miss Bennet?"
"No, Your Lordship, I have not, my answer remains the same." She made every attempt to word her response as evenly and business like as she could, not wanting to upset the man but also wanting to maintain a firm stance.
He narrowed his eyes further. "You aren't getting any younger, Miss Bennet and I am a generous man." He raised his eyebrows at her as though imparting important knowledge.
She held back her shudder by a thread.
"Thank you, Your Lordship, I have no doubt. But my answer is still no."
He shrugged. "Ah, well, I will find someone else." He looked at her pointedly. "Someone much younger I dare say."*
Elizabeth grit her teeth to fight back a scalding retort.
"On to business." Wellesley switched gears easily and quickly. "Please, be seated." He motioned for the chair near her.
"My resources are pulled thin, Miss Bennet, I need you for an assignment that is not your norm." He pulled an already open envelop from atop a pile of papers and handed it to her across the desk. "I need you to aid in locating this man." He nodded to the envelope in her hands and she pulled from the top a sketched portrait of a stately gentleman. "Do you recognize him, Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth studied the picture, she did feel some sort of recognition but not necessarily for the man in the picture. She looked up to Wellesley, puzzled. "No, My Lord, should I?"
He chuckled humorlessly. "I don't expect you would have been in the same social sphere, no, Miss Bennet. But he was a well known individual. That is the Duke of Montagu."
Elizabeth's puzzlement deepened. She had heard of the Duke but only in that he had a reputation for making debutants (and even an Earl or two) cry. Her eyebrows nearly met in the middle as she tried to reconcile this elder gentlemen with the scorching remarks she had been told came from his mouth.
"You need my aid in locating the Duke?" She couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice.
"Well, yes." He snapped. "Why else would I have asked you here?" She didn't actually want to reply to that. "That is the former Duke. He also contracted with the crown to serve in our time of need and was, for many years, our greatest asset." He looked her triumphantly as though she should somehow take that as an insult either to herself or to her father. She took absolutely no offense. She was too busy wondering what could have possibly motivated this man to sign a contract similar to what her father had done.
Being given a knighthood would not mean much to a Duke.
Wellesley went on to explain the circumstances of the Dukes abduction and assumed death.
She felt bad for his children, wondering if the Duke had somehow worked off his contract enough that his children wouldn't suffer the completion.
That was an existence she didn't wish on anyone.
"You will need to aid the current Duke in locating his father." Elizabeth was startled from her thoughts by this revelation and began a protest that was cut off by His Lordship. "I know, Miss Bennet, you value deeply your spotless reputation." He sneered the words out. "But, if you are successful in this venture I will consider your fathers contract forgiven." She gaped at the man. Shock and longing and fear present on her face.
Two years. He was offering to give her her freedom two years early.
"I will do it." Her voice was hardened steel and her heart threatened to burst through her chest.
"Good. I thought so." He stood behind his desk and nodded a bow. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have matters with which to attend."
Elizabeth got up from her chair dazedly and might have curtsied. If she did it was purely from muscle memory as she couldn't recall. She pushed through the open door and nearly stumbled into Mr. Marley, standing sentry outside.
"Are you well, Miss Bennet?" The grandfatherly man asked solicitously.
She nodded to him, and after a moment came back to her senses. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Marley." She smiled a flat lipped smile. "Did you hear?"
Mr. Marley smiled at her. "It won't be so bad, Miss Bennet. Here." He handed her an envelope of papers. "Here is all the contacts you will need. And I have arranged for you to use the house to meet with His Grace." He patted her arm kindly. "You can do this, Miss Bennet."
She smiled at the kind man and prayed he was right.
/
A Cramped Carriage
Just outside London
Miss Jane Marie Bennet, first daughter of Sir Thomas Edward Bennet of Hertfordshire had, at eight and twenty, come to the shocking, and unbidden conclusion that everyone dies.
Everyone.
No matter your natural beauty, no matter your natural grace, death comes to all.
It shouldn't have affected her as much as it had. Death was, after all, as natural as her sky blue eyes and her flaxen blonde hair.
Jane had never particularly paid much attention to her looks. She knew herself to be much admired but it truly meant nothing to her. When you have something of which you made no effort to attain, you had no notion of it's value. She certainly hadn't lost her good looks, despite what her mother might say, nor had she suddenly become an ungraceful clod. But, when her mother moved seamlessly between declaring her the savior of the family after Papa's accident to declaring her youngest sister Lydia the last hope of the Bennets, she suddenly realized her worth. Her true worth had and, if she made no changes, always would be defined by her looks.
This revelation rocked the serene, even keeled Jane to the core.
This revelation is why she found herself scrunched uncomfortably in the mail coach heading to London to help her sister shoulder the family burden.
This revelation is what gave her the courage to tell the large woman eating an equally large turkey leg next to her that she was sitting on her dress and pulling her down with it. She couldn't help but sit straighter after she felt the rush of power well up inside her chest.
Jane Bennet was a spinster. She was no longer valued solely for her looks. She would henceforth be defined by her strength and fortitude even in the face of scowling old women who really made her want to run the other way.
And, damn if she wasn't proud of this revelation.
A/N: * Wellesley was the foreign minister at this time and was, much like his younger brother the Duke of Wellington, a well known womanizer. His first wife was a french actress, he had 5 children with her before finally marrying her and legitimizing their kids. He was never faithful and had a long string of mistresses. Towards the end of his life it is documented one of them was a teenager.
Ew.
Different standards, certainly.
Also, the Napoleonic Wars saw the first major uptick in espionage, primarily fueled by the revolution in France. For the most part, their methods were similar to what we still use today, lots of discrediting of officials and general subterfuge. The contractual situation I describe has no basis in fact, I just made it up, but many of the situations I will describe have basis in fact. The Napoleonic Wars were pretty stinking intriguing.
Thanks for reading!