Hypothetically Married_A Pride and Prejudice Variation Read online

“To give him a victory,” Mr. Phillips replied.

  “Military men like victories,” Elizabeth added.

  Mr. Phillips’ eyes crinkled. “They do, indeed.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Kitty lamented.

  “Wouldn’t it have been easier just to stay?” Aunt Gardiner asked. “Most people would understand about the debts. After all, they weren’t your debts and you could simply have given the money to Mr. Wickham, rather than pay any of them.”

  Uncle Phillips shook his head. “I also didn’t want to be in a position where any of us could be pressed to give Mr. Wickham’s location to anyone. Some members of the militia may visit London now and then. I don’t want Lydia facing men who think they have a right to Mr. Wickham’s money.”

  Everyone fell silent, thinking. Elizabeth shifted on the stiff sofa. After half a day in the carriage, the overstuffed cushion offered little comfort. What she really wished to do was to walk.

  “Lydia would do it,” Kitty finally said. “If redcoats came to her and demanded she give them money, she would.”

  “Would she be frightened enough to give up money she needs for food or rent?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.

  Kitty looked thoughtful, then she nodded.

  Uncle Phillips nodded, too. “I believe that’s easily within the realm of possibility.”

  Elizabeth frowned. That Lydia would be in a position not to have money for food or rent had never occurred to her. Uncle Phillip’s news about Mr. Wickham’s debts and his subsequent flight showed him to be much less responsible than Elizabeth had believed, but surely, he wouldn’t permit his wife to starve or go without a home.

  “Do you have Lydia’s address here in London?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly worried for her little sister. No letters had arrived from Lydia since she and Mr. Wickham set out for London, though there’d hardly been time for any to be sent.

  “I do,” Uncle Phillips said.

  “I should like to write to her and let her know we’re here,” Elizabeth said.

  “That would be very good of you.” Uncle Phillips offered a kind smile.

  The tea arrived then, and Aunt Gardiner set to serving them all. She changed the topic to the unseasonably warm winter they were having. Elizabeth sipped her tea and only half attended to the conversation, her thoughts on Mr. Wickham and how easily they’d all been deceived by him.

  ***

  The next several days passed in pleasant expeditions to shops and attractions with their Aunt Gardiner. Elizabeth wasn’t surprised that their Uncle Phillips didn’t accompany them. She was surprised, however, that he went out with great frequency. So much so that the only time she saw him each day was at the dinner table. She wanted to ask him about his jaunts but didn’t do so over the meal. She had no way to know if his excursions were a subject he wished broached before the combined Bennet and Gardiner families.

  Finally, the better part of a week after their arrival, Uncle Phillips agreed to accompany them to the theater. Elizabeth maneuvered herself to sit beside him, determined to get to the bottom of his doings. Last week, she wouldn’t have been concerned, but after his recent planned upheaval of their lives, she was too suspicious to let his behavior go unquestioned. During the interval, while the others were talking about the play, she touched his coat sleeve to get his attention.

  He turned from Kitty, on his other side, with his usual affable smile. “Yes, Elizabeth?”

  “It may not be my place to ask, but I’m curious how your calls have been going,” she ventured. “You seem remarkably busy since our arrival in London.”

  A not very reassuring look of embarrassment crossed his features. “Rather well, I hope.”

  Elizabeth scrutinized him, noting the way he tugged at the overly austere knot in his cravat. “What exactly are your calls in regard to?”

  “If you must know,” he said, still looking embarrassed, “I am endeavoring to expand our acquaintances to include a pool of eligible men. The Gardiners have told me there are very few men they associate with who meet with my requirements for you girls.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t expected that reply at all. “And you know so many people here in London?”

  He offered a small smile. “Oh, some. For example, today I called on several former clients.”

  “Only those who were happy with the results of whatever legal business they had with you,” she suggested, teasing.

  “Certainly.”

  “And yesterday?”

  “Yesterday I called on some friends from my Cambridge days that I’ve kept up correspondences with. I also called on the widow of a close friend from Cambridge. That was enjoyable.” He shook his head, looking glum despite his words. “I stayed longer than I should have, and I doubt any of those calls will produce the results I’m looking for.”

  “There is nothing wrong with enjoying yourself,” Elizabeth said.

  “True, but I must remain focused,” he said, surprisingly adamant. “We will only remain here in London until the militia leaves Meryton. This is your, Jane and Kitty’s best chance to find husbands. You don’t have a mama to help you. Only me.”

  Elizabeth placed a hand on his sleeve. “These past two years, you’ve done a wonderful job caring for us,” she assured him.

  “You’re a dear girl to say so.”

  After their mother died, their father had deteriorated with shocking rapidity, especially for a man no one thought cared for his wife. Once he was gone and they moved in with the Phillips, their Aunt Phillips fell ill. Throughout the year of mourning for their father, their aunt’s decline, and their year they spent mourning her, Uncle Phillips had taken on the role of two parents. He’d done so without complaint, diligently and well.

  Elizabeth squeezed his arm. “I’m not only saying so, I mean it. We would have been lost without you.”

  Uncle Phillips patted her hand where it rested on his sleeve. “I’m doing my best, but I am not an asset to you, if you want to marry into the gentry. The Gardiners are in trade, but anyone meeting them would assume they were people of fashion. Anyone meeting me, well, they have no such illusions.”

  Before Elizabeth could muster a response to that, Kitty asked Uncle Phillips for his opinion of the play so far. He gave Elizabeth’s hand a final pat and turned to Kitty. Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap, thoughtful and hardly aware when the curtain went up on the second act of the play.

  Chapter Five

  Elizabeth lay awake for some time that night, listening to Kitty’s even breathing and thinking on her Uncle Phillips’ words. She wished she’d been quicker to refute him, instead of meeting his self-deprecation with silence. Her inability to voice an immediate denial had stemmed from a desire not to lie. It filled her with guilt to know he realized as much.

  Uncle Phillips was the son of a farmer, but his grandmother had been wealthy enough to see her only grandchild was well educated. The original goal had been to have him become a clergyman and buy him a living, but the money had run out before that could be done.

  It wasn’t simply a question of his profession as an attorney, however, that made him describe himself as not an asset to her and her sisters. He’d learned the manners of a gentleman at college, but his appearance was against him. He was short, broad faced, balding, and had a pug nose. Moreover, he dressed terribly, being more concerned with frugality than fashion.

  Elizabeth sighed. She knew him to be a loving husband and uncle as well as a responsible guardian for her and her sisters, but none of that would matter to those who’d just met him. All of it should, but how the world should be and how it was, were often despairingly different.

  Having remained out late and then been unable to sleep, Elizabeth woke later than anyone else. By the time she was up and dressed, breakfast had been cleared away. She went to the kitchen and tucked a few rolls into the pockets in her skirt, then made her way into the parlor where the others sat talking.

  They immediately informed her it had already been agr
eed that she and her sisters would take the older three of the Gardiner children to a nearby park. They’d only been waiting on Elizabeth to appear, so they might set the plan in motion.

  As the process of dressing the youngsters for the winter weather was started, a knock sounded at the front door.

  “Sally,” Aunt Gardiner called to a nearby maid, who’d just deposited a pile of hats on a chair. Aunt Gardiner was embroiled in wrapping her son’s scarf.

  Sally nodded and hurried from the parlor. A moment later, she reappeared, eyes a bit wide. “There’s a Lady Catherine de Bourgh and a Miss Anne de Bourgh here, come to see Mr. Phillips.”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing, mainly shoving children’s limbs into various forms of outerwear, to stare at the maid. In unison, Elizabeth, Jane, Kitty and Aunt Gardiner all swiveled their heads to look at Uncle Phillips, who sat quietly removed from the fray, reading the morning paper.

  “Tell him if I’m interrupting something, I can certainly leave,” an aggravated, imperious voice called from the hall.

  Uncle Phillips came to his feet instantly and hurried from the room. Elizabeth could hear him greeting the two women, his manner conciliatory. Soon, the three appeared in the doorway.

  Elizabeth studied Lady Catherine and her daughter while introductions were made, finding them surprisingly dissimilar. Where Lady Catherine was broad of both frame and face, tall for a woman and rather formidable, Miss de Bourgh was slight. She seemed reed thin, even her features narrow. Studying the women, some inkling of a memory stirred at the back of Elizabeth’s mind. She’d heard these names, Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Miss Anne de Bourgh somewhere before.

  “Well,” Lady Catherine said once introductions were finished. “It looks to me as if I am indeed interrupting, though I have no notion from this chaos what I am interrupting.”

  Uncle Phillips’ gesture took in the room. “My nieces and the Gardiner children were about to visit the park, but I wasn’t going to join them.”

  Lady Catherine nodded. “Then let them go, and we shall have our visit.”

  “I must say, Lady Catherine,” Mr. Phillips said, “I am flattered that you’re returning my call so promptly.”

  “Was that the park we passed just before we arrived?” Miss de Bourgh asked.

  “Very likely so.” Aunt Gardiner gestured in the general direction of the park. “It’s just down the street.”

  “Would you mind if I join them?” Miss de Bourgh asked her mother. “It is too nice a day to sit indoors.”

  Lady Catherine looked them over again, as if assessing them.

  Elizabeth deliberately returned to helping her cousin into her coat.

  “Have Bruce and Brice go with you,” Lady Catherine said after a moment.

  “Yes, Mother.” Miss de Bourgh sounded more like a child than the grown woman she appeared to be.

  “Are you going to the park, Mrs. Gardiner?” Lady Catherine asked.

  “I was not planning to,” Aunt Gardiner said. “Shall I call for refreshments?”

  Elizabeth finished with her cousin’s coat and turned to tie the older Gardiner son’s boots, which Kitty was neglecting while she stared at Lady Catherine.

  Lady Catherine sniffed. “If you feel it’s necessary.” She looked about the room again, imperious. “Well, hop to. You’ll want to finish bundling those children before they go out. Mr. Phillips and I wish to have our visit. You others should be on your way.”

  That spurred Elizabeth’s sisters back into motion. In no time she, Jane, Kitty, Miss de Bourgh and the three older Gardiner children were walking down the street toward the park. Jane led the way between the six and eight-year-old girls. Elizabeth followed, holding her five-year-old cousin Edward’s hand, and Kitty and Miss de Bourgh came next. Two tall, identical red-haired footmen trailed a respectful distance behind the group. As Miss de Bourgh had ignored the men completely when they came out, Elizabeth could only assume they were Bruce and Brice, and were accustomed to following her.

  “I’m sorry to push myself on you,” Miss de Bourgh said to Kitty where they walked behind Elizabeth, “but my mother doesn’t understand my need to be outside. She thinks because it’s winter and we’re in London, I should avoid the cold.”

  “Whatever for? It’s a lovely day,” Kitty said.

  Miss de Bourgh was silent. Elizabeth hoped Kitty hadn’t somehow offended their new acquaintance. She tried to think of something to say to change the topic. Usually, the weather was the staple safe avenue of discourse.

  “I’m often sick,” Miss de Bourgh finally said. “But not now. Not usually in winter, and generally less so in London.”

  “I get sick every spring and autumn,” Kitty said. “To be honest, I’m not very well in the summer, either, but I am most often well in the winter. I like the cold because I generally feel better.”

  “Do you find you’re less ill in London as well?” Miss de Bourgh asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Kitty said. “I haven’t been in London since I was a child.”

  This prompted Miss de Bourgh to launch into a broad description of things to do in London in the winter. She carried the bulk of the conversation, Kitty adding a few comments, the remainder of the way to the park. Elizabeth saw no reason to interrupt and listened with interest.

  When they reached the park, there were quite a few children there, several known to the Gardiner girls. Elizabeth stood with Jane, Kitty and Miss de Bourgh, chatting amiably while they watched the children play. When a ball the girls were playing with came in their direction, Miss de Bourgh picked it up and threw it back. It was an awkward, inaccurate, underhand throw, but to the credit of the girls they thanked her for it.

  Edward lingered near them, obviously left out of the girls’ game with their friends. Elizabeth reached into her pocket for one of the rolls. “Edward, would you like to feed the squirrels?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Cousin Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth broke the roll in half and handed the pieces to him. “Remember, the smaller the pieces you use, the more times you get to feed them.”

  His wide eyes solemn, he pulled off a small piece of roll and held it up.

  “That’s perfect,” she said, smiling.

  Edward scampered toward the edge of the path and the squirrels there. He threw a few pieces, which the eager little rodents seized upon.

  Her smile amused, Miss de Bourgh walked over and crouched down next to him. “Perhaps we can see that the shy squirrel over there gets some food,” she said, pointing.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth noticed Brice and Bruce changed position in response to Miss de Bourgh’s slight change in location.

  Edward was eager to try feeding the shy squirrel. He threw a piece of bread with even greater awkwardness than Miss de Bourgh’s throw of the ball. Another squirrel beat the shy one to the offering. Edward looked over his shoulder to Elizabeth, serious little face concerned.

  “Maybe we can distract the other two squirrels by throwing bread in three directions,” Elizabeth suggested. She left Jane and Kitty chatting and watching their cousins and went over to help.

  The plan worked, and all three squirrels got fed. They managed the feat several more times before they ran out of bread. Fortunately, at that moment a nanny arrived with a boy about Edward’s age. It was obvious the two were friends. Edward ran off to play, squirrels forgotten. She and Miss de Bourgh returned to where Kitty stood watching their cousins. Jane appeared deep in conversation with the mother of the girls’ friends. Kitty offered them a cheerful smile.

  Brice and Bruce moved again, returning to their original positions, before the squirrel feeding. They didn’t stand together but rather on opposite sides of Miss de Bourgh, although far enough away to be ignored. They spent little time watching her but, instead, looked around at others. When a couple of perfectly respectable looking men walked by, smiling more at Kitty than Miss de Bourgh, Brice and Bruce changed their positions to be between Miss de Bourgh and t
he men.

  “Your footmen are very protective,” Elizabeth observed to Miss de Bourgh, unsure if she was alarmed or amused.

  Miss de Bourgh grimaced. “They are.”

  “Are you really in that much danger?” Kitty asked, eyes wide.

  “My mother seems to think so, for all she didn’t want to hire them at first.”

  “Oh?” Elizabeth prompted.

  “They demand better wages than most footmen, and they have some odd stipulations.”

  “Stipulations?” Kitty repeated.

  Elizabeth decided she was amused. “Whatever sort of stipulations could they have?”

  “Oddly enough, that they must be permitted to do some of the heavy work, when we’re home, rather than just standing around. They also get a half day off every week.”

  Elizabeth studied one of the footmen again. He looked useful for heavy work. “That is a bit odd, to request more work, and the weekly half day off is generous.”

  “Bruce says part of their value is that they look strong, and Brice maintains the best way to look strong is to be strong. Believe it or not, they usually exercise on their half day off.”

  “They don’t look like their shoulders owe anything to padding,” Kitty said, an appreciative gleam in her eyes.

  There was a long silence while Elizabeth tried to find something to say. She settled for, “How is it they were hired if your mother didn’t want to hire them?” It seemed a reasonable question since Miss de Bourgh didn’t seem thrilled to have them following her.

  “Someone else wanted to hire them. My mother can be very competitive. To get them, she ended up paying a bit more than they asked. She justified it by saying I need the highest quality of protection.” Miss de Bourgh’s sardonic tone showed what she thought of that notion.

  “Speaking of your mother, should we be getting back?” Elizabeth asked, wondering how her Aunt Gardiner was bearing up under the formidable-seeming Lady Catherine’s company. “I worry that if we stay, we will force her into a longer visit than she wishes.”

  “My mother would never be forced to stay longer than she wished,” Miss de Bourgh said in that same tone. “She will send someone to get us.”