A Twist of Fate Page 3

  “You know full well why I do not. It is not worth having to listen to Mama complain that I think too highly of myself to live with the rest of you.”

  “Well, Jane, Mary and I do not feel that way. It worries me that you stay awake all night and most of the day. You cannot keep up such a schedule. It will take its toll at some point.”

  Elizabeth reached for Kitty’s hand. “Thank you for caring, but I am perfectly well.”

  Kitty wanted to object, but seeing the resolve in her sister’s eyes, she refrained. Instead, taking the bag Elizabeth had brought home, she returned to the counter where a tray had been set out. Slicing the bread, she spread a layer of plum preserves on one piece, placed it on a plate and then set the plate on the tray.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she teased, “I best get this finished before Mama awakens. You know how she complains if hot tea and food are not waiting the minute her eyes open.”

  As if on cue, the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet echoed throughout the cottage. “Kitty?”

  Her sister smiled wanly, poured a cup of tea and placed it on the tray. “Duty calls.”

  LATER, AS ELIZABETH lay on the sofa with her eyes closed, she allowed herself time to do something she had actively tried to avoid during the last two years—to consider Mr. Darcy. It was not a step taken lightly, for from the day she read the letter informing her that Mr. Wickham was not worthy of her concern, remorse had threatened to consume her. Moreover, it was only in the last few months that she had begun to forgive herself for her part in the disaster that marked the downfall of her family—Lydia’s elopement with Mr. Wickham.

  What a fool I was to think I was clever enough to sketch anyone’s character. Moreover, had I not been too proud to tell my family what Mr. Darcy said about Wickham, perhaps Papa would never have let Lydia go to Brighton.

  A knock at the door brought Elizabeth’s thoughts back to the present. Jane, who was in the kitchen, walked out wide-eyed, wiping her hands on her apron. “Who on earth could that be?”

  Relieved that the rest of their family was in a bedroom listening to Mary read a book, Elizabeth rose to her feet. “I do not suppose we will find out unless we open the door.”

  She stopped at the mirror hanging next to the entrance to smooth her hair but had little success. Shrugging, she opened the door and was taken aback to find a soldier, clad in red, holding a wooden crate. Before she could speak, he enquired, “Is this the Bennet residence?”

  “Yes, it is, but—”

  The man walked past her and deposited the crate on the floor. As he went back out the door, he called over his shoulder. “There are more, so please do not close the door.”

  Elizabeth and Jane exchanged confused looks, but before either could act, the man had returned with another crate, which he promptly set on the floor next to the first. After repeating the deed a third time, he looked pleased with himself as he addressed the sisters. “Do you wish me to set these on a table or move them into another room?”

  “No, but are you certain they are for us?” Elizabeth asked.

  The soldier smiled. “Are you Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  “I am.”

  “Then I am certain.” With that he went out the door and walked towards a small wagon being pulled by a single horse.

  Elizabeth finally came to her senses. “Wait!” The soldier stopped mid-stride and turned. “Who sent you here?”

  “I am not at liberty to say, ma’am.”

  Touching his hat in a salute, he climbed into the vehicle and disappeared down the drive. Puzzled, Elizabeth shut the door and turned to stare at the crates as though they held something unpleasant.

  Whilst she hesitated, Jane had no such reluctance and rushed forward. Finding she could not get any of the boards to budge, she cried, “Get Papa’s toolbox! Perhaps he had something we can use to open these.”

  Her plea forced Elizabeth to come to her senses. “I suppose we should find out what they contain before Mama learns they are here.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  THE GARDNERS’ RESIDENCE

  That same day

  “Lizzy!” Madeline Gardiner exclaimed as she reached out to hug her niece. “What brings you back today?”

  “Can I not visit more than once a day?” Elizabeth teased as she watched her aunt hug Jane.

  “Of course, but I do not recall you doing so since you began working. Have you gotten any sleep today?”

  “Very little,” Jane declared. “But, nothing would do for Lizzy but to come now to thank you and our uncle for your generosity.”

  Mrs. Gardiner looked puzzled. “We have done nothing extraordinary.”

  “To be precise, we are here about the gifts you so graciously bestowed upon us today,” Elizabeth replied.

  “What gifts?” Mr. Gardiner said as he emerged from his study.

  “The three crates that were delivered this morning,” Elizabeth replied, going on to explain that one contained food, another toys and the last had wrapped packages with their Christian names on them.

  Mr. Gardiner glanced at his wife. “I wish we had the resources to purchase such gifts, but alas, our finances preclude such generosity.”

  “Then, you had nothing to do with the letter that was enclosed either?”

  “What letter?”

  “It is from a physician, a Mr. Graham, who asked if he could call on us next week,” Jane explained. “Apparently, he wishes to examine Susan’s foot to determine if he can help her, and he stated there would be no cost to us.”

  “Mr. Graham has a reputation for being one of the finest physicians in England, but we have never met him,” Edward Gardiner replied.

  Elizabeth’s brows furrowed. If her aunt and uncle were not responsible, who was their mysterious champion? Suddenly recalling that Mr. Blaylock mentioned a colonel might buy the combs, her heart began to race.

  Without voicing her suspicions aloud, she said, “At any rate, some kind soul decided to bless us this Christmas which will allow us to purchase a few gifts we could not afford otherwise. I should like to visit Blaylock’s again to purchase a shawl that Mama admired the last time she was there. Uncle, would it be possible to borrow the carriage?”

  “Of course, but do you not have to leave for work soon?”

  “I forgot to mention that Lord Bascomb gave me leave until after Boxing Day. One of the new caretakers will take my turn, and I hope to reciprocate when I return.”

  “Of course you may have the carriage, but you cannot go alone.”

  Elizabeth grabbed Jane’s hand. “Jane will go with me.”

  Puzzled, Jane nodded in agreement.

  Chapter 3

  In the carriage

  “Lizzy, you know Mama already purchased that shawl. Do you not recall arguing with her that we did not have the funds when she took part of your wages to buy it? She acted so unreasonably that I feared you would never forgive her.”

  “I remember it well. However, purchasing the shawl was just a ruse to gain use of our uncle’s carriage.”

  “What are you about?”

  “I am about to find out the identity of our benefactor,” Elizabeth said. “Other than our family, who do you know who would buy presents for us?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Blaylock?”

  “I dearly love the Blaylocks, but we both know they do not have the means to be that generous.”

  “I agree, but who else could it be?”

  “That is what I mean to find out.”

  BLAYLOCK’S SHOP

  The shop was so crowded that the air was stifling. Jane began to cough the minute they entered the building, so Elizabeth insisted she wait near the front door where the air circulated better. Winding her way through the throng, ere long Elizabeth stood before Mr. Blaylock, who had smiled the moment he saw her in the crowd.

  “Miss Elizabeth! I thought you were done shopping,” he shouted over the din.

  “I am, sir. But I hoped you could answer a question for me.”


  “Then, come into my office where I can hear you better, and I will try.”

  Once they were secreted in his office, Elizabeth said, “I would like to know the name of the person who bought my combs.”

  Blaylock’s face grew concerned. “Could you tell me why you wish to know?”

  “I think that whoever bought my combs sent three crates of food, toys and presents to our home this morning. And I wish to thank them.”

  “I . . . I regret I cannot disclose the names of my customers. Besides, this particular customer requested strict privacy.”

  “I recall you said the customer you had in mind was a colonel. And I happened to see Colonel Fitzwilliam follow you into the office the day we left the combs; thus, it follows that he is the one who bought them,” Elizabeth said, watching Mr. Blaylock’s face carefully for confirmation.

  Knowing full well it was not the colonel who purchased the combs, Blaylock thought it would suffice to let Elizabeth assume that she was right. Surely Colonel Fitzwilliam will not give away his cousin’s confidence if she confronts him.

  “Miss Elizabeth, you have me at a disadvantage for my word is my bond,” the proprietor replied, smiling at his cleverness. “Please do not ask me to confirm or deny your theory.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I think you already have.”

  AFTER THEY ENTERED their uncle’s carriage for the ride back to Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth revealed her conversation with Mr. Blaylock to Jane.

  “So you believe it was Colonel Fitzwilliam who sent the gifts?”

  “I do.”

  “Is it possible he had feelings for you all along? Could that explain his kindness?”

  Elizabeth recalled their conversations the few times she had been in the colonel’s company. “No. In fact, he always went out of his way to let me know he must marry someone who is wealthy.”

  “This is all most peculiar.”

  “I agree.”

  “In any case, Colonel Fitzwilliam did not rise to the rank of colonel by being a dullard,” Jane replied. “How do you propose to keep him from blaming Mr. Blaylock for divulging his secret?”

  “When I thank him, I shall mention that I spied him at the shop the day we sold the combs, and after a soldier delivered the crates, I put two and two together.”

  “He obviously wanted his generosity kept secret. Why not let him have his wish?”

  “Whilst I appreciate his selflessness, such kindness cannot go unacknowledged. I intend to thank him, and I want you to come with me.”

  Not one for confrontations, Jane paled. “Wh . . .when?”

  “A day or so after Christmas we will visit the military headquarters on Burton Street. When you were ill at Netherfield, I recall hearing Mr. Darcy mention that his cousin had an office there.”

  “I . . . I do not think we should call upon him at his place of work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, being a colonel, he must be very busy.”

  “Where would you like to call upon him?” Knowing the alternative would force Jane to agree with her plan, Elizabeth said, “Most likely he will be at his parents’ home for the holidays, so we may be able to find him there.”

  Jane pictured the imposing facade of Matlock House. She had never been inside it, but one could not fail to admire the structure when visiting Hyde Park, for it sat just across from the main gate.

  “No! I would not feel comfortable calling at the earl’s residence. I suppose the colonel’s office will have to suffice.”

  “That was my conclusion,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, I would not like to chance meeting Mr. Darcy if he happened to be visiting his relations.”

  CHRISTMAS EVE

  As with every year since they were forced from Longbourn, the Bennets spent Christmas Eve at the Gardiners’ home. Other than plans to take the children to the park to try their new skates, Christmas Day would be spent in the confines of the small cottage with their own goose and trimmings. Today, however, would serve as a reminder of happier times—times spent with their relations at Longbourn when their father was still alive.

  Since it was their custom to open presents on Christmas Eve, the packages at the cottage had been brought to the Gardiners’ residence and placed under the tree alongside those purchased by her aunt and uncle. After everyone had eaten, Mr. Gardiner began to pass out the presents, beginning with the children. It did their hearts good to see the delight on the little faces, especially Susan’s since she was the youngest. A dark-haired, green-eyed copy of her mother, she was a happy child despite her handicap, and between the Bennets, the Gardiners and their secret benefactor, she received a good many presents.

  After experiencing the misery her rebellious ways had brought upon her family, Lydia had matured somewhat, though there were times when she still acted like a spoiled child—such as today.

  Holding aloft a beautiful pair of tan leather gloves with a soft, woollen scarf in the same colour, she whined, “I do not like this colour. Lizzy, trade your green ones for mine. You no longer care how you look, and the green matches my eyes.”

  Heart full of thanks for the kindness shown her family, Elizabeth cared not which colour she wore, so she immediately exchanged her gloves and scarf for Lydia’s.

  “Oh, Lizzy! There is another package in the bottom of the box, and it has your name on it!”

  “That is not fair!” Lydia declared. “Why should Lizzy get more presents than the rest of us?”

  “Hush, Lydia,” Mr. Gardiner scolded. “Perhaps your benefactor thought Lizzy deserved something more since she supports the rest of you.”

  As Lydia sulked, Elizabeth tried to make light of his reasoning. “Surely, they have no way of knowing I am in service.” In truth, she was praying that was the case.

  “I would not lay a wager on that, niece,” Aunt Maddie said. “After all, they know you well enough to know your sister’s Christian names.”

  Tearing off the wrapping paper, Elizabeth was stunned to find a blue velvet box and inside it were her grandmother’s combs. Too affected to speak, as everyone asked what was inside, Jane reached for the gift. Upon seeing the combs, her hand flew to her mouth and tears filled her eyes.

  Exasperated, Mrs. Bennet cried from her place on the settee. “Pray tell! What is it?”

  “It is grandmother’s combs,” Jane answered. “Lizzy sold them to buy food and presents for all of us, and now they are back.”

  Fanny Bennet failed to grasp the enormity of her daughter’s sacrifice. “How in the world did they come back to you, Lizzy?”

  Every eye was on Elizabeth, though her mind was too full of questions to reply. Seeing this, Jane said, “It had to be a miracle. Only God could have returned the combs to their rightful owner.”

  It did not sit well with Elizabeth that Colonel Fitzwilliam must have felt such pity for her circumstances that he had even returned her combs. In the back of her mind a plan began to form.

  Chapter 4

  Christmas Day

  It was nearly noon when William left the stables and turned Zeus in the direction of Twickenham Commons. The morning had been spent opening presents with Georgiana and Richard, and now that his sister was practicing the new music he had gifted her and Richard was at his parents’ house, he felt free to do as he pleased for an hour or so. Dreams of Elizabeth had kept William awake all night, and his heart whispered that he might catch a glimpse of her today if he hurried.

  Since his cousin had begun to tease him about Elizabeth, William was thankful to be alone and had just kicked Zeus into a gallop, when a loud whistle caught his attention. There was only one man who could whistle like that, and his heart sank to realise who it was. Pulling Zeus back to a trot, he glanced behind to see his cousin quickly closing the gap between them astride his red stallion.

  Once they were side by side, Richard exclaimed, “I believe you must be becoming deaf, Darcy! I have been calling you since you passed the Hyde Park entrance.”

  “I apologise. I was preoc
cupied.”

  “Indeed,” Richard said, glancing sideways at his cousin. “Where the devil are you headed?”

  “Twickenham Commons.”

  “Oh, that explains it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I believe you hope to encounter Miss Elizabeth there.”

  “I will have you know that I have already met with her.”

  “You have? When?”

  “The day before yesterday. I was at Twickenham to ride, and I saw her exit a carriage and enter the park. And it was fortuitous I happened by because a vagrant appeared from out of nowhere to confront her.”

  “My word! Did you give that blackguard a good thrashing?”

  “I did not have the opportunity. He disappeared into the woods the minute he saw me riding towards her.”

  “I hope you warned Miss Elizabeth about traipsing about alone, especially when few people are awake.”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “I got a lecture about how she could take care of herself.”

  “Then perhaps you should have a word with her uncle.”

  “Since she waited until the carriage was completely out of sight before crossing to the park, I assume he has warned her. Furthermore, Elizabeth would be livid if I were to intervene, and I doubt it would keep her from doing as she pleases.”

  Richard sighed. “Being unafraid does not mean one should act foolishly.”

  “I agree.”

  They were riding across the lawn at the park when a group of women stopped on the pavement in front of the Gardiners’ house, and the door flew open. As several children rushed down the steps to join those below, both Richard and William pulled their stallions to a halt. Once he recognised Elizabeth, William was too caught up in watching to realise he and Richard were completely in the open, and by the time Elizabeth shaded her eyes with her hand and looked in their direction, it was too late to escape to the cover of the trees.