Beginning, Previous Section, Section III, Next Section
Correspondences
21 July.Dear Friend,
Have I said something to upset you? I have not heard from you in over a month. Did I offend you by saying that I had no plans for ever marrying? Or have you not been receiving my letters? Please let me know if you wish to terminate our relationship. I shall not beg for you to continue because I have my pride, but over the past month or so I have come to consider you a dear friend, and one I would not like to lose.
30 July.Dear Friend,
Please accept my deepest apologies for not responding to you until now. I did receive the letters you have written. Let me reassure you that you did not offend me in any way, and that with all my heart I would like to continue our friendship. The past two months mark the occasion of events I do not like remembering, for they bring back a most difficult time in my life. It's a struggle for me to work, much less do anything else but remember and wish things were different.
Not that work is much of a solace. A couple days after I sent my last letter to you, a young woman I work with stopped by my apartment. I had known she had an interest in me and had no choice but to tell her that I could not return her affections. She did not take it well, and has since been rather spiteful to me. She has caused a great deal of trouble between myself and my superior, and that relationship was strained enough as it was. I have thought of appealing to my employer, but doing so would make me feel like a boy again, running to the teacher to tattle on another child. So I suffer in silence and pray that this woman does not cost me my job...
5 August.Dear Friend,
I work in place where I have great difficulty getting along with three of the employees. One of them is like the young woman causing you trouble. She is a troublemaker, and yet she is able to make my employer believe her to be a good worker and a complete angel. However, I happen to be in possession of knowledge which mitigates some of the trouble she stirs up, for it is directed at a person who deserves so much worse, that what she does seems petty.
The other employee is the delivery boy, who seems determined to make my life miserable by calling me names and trying to trick my parents into thinking I'm in love with him. He actually had the nerve to come to my parents' home and tell them we were in the "midst of a torrid affair"! Those were his exact words. The very idea of having any sort of romantic relationship with this man makes my stomach crawl, and thank God my father is the sensible sort who could see that without having to be told. My mother is another story altogether. She was so furious that I would reject any man out of hand, that she went through with her threat and hasn't spoken to me since.
Ah, the sounds of silence...
9 AUGUST.DEAR CATHERINE DE BOURGH,
ARE YOU AWARE OF WHAT YOUR HUSBAND IS DOING WHEN YOU AREN'T AROUND TO WATCH HIM? YOU SHOULD SPEND MORE TIME AT HOME WITH HIM LIKE A WOMAN SHOULD.
A CONCERNED FRIEND.
11 August.Dear Friend,
I was chuckling over your last letter. You have written about your mother before, enough for me to understand how pleased you are not to have her lecturing all the time. It is at times such as yours that I do not miss my mother, for she was an expert at lecturing. She could go on and on for days. I suppose I should have listened to her--she was forever encouraging me to marry one or another of her friends' daughters. Perhaps if I had, I would not find myself in the mess I am in presently.
But I could not, and I shall not, marry for anything less than love. It made me an oddity with my friends and acquaintances. I like to think that the person who paid the price for my convictions would think it was the right thing.
19 August.Dear Friend,
I think wanting to marry for love is the most admirable thing I've heard in quite a while. Do you ever dream about the sort of woman you'd want to marry?
I used to think about the man I would marry someday, back when I was young and foolish and thought that there might be a man out there who would want me. He would have to be tall, because I'm very tall for a woman. He didn't have to be handsome, because I always realized that I was not beautiful like my sister and wouldn't attract those men. I wanted a mature man, not one like the boys I see all the time now who want to do nothing more than go to dance halls and cafes all the time. I wanted someone intelligent and caring, serious and astute, but he had to have a sense of humor. I don't think I could live with a man who couldn't laugh at the nonsense of life.
I used to think I could find him, but as time went on and all the men I liked married other women who didn't have half the sense I did, I realized that either I would have to lower my standards or give up altogether. I decided on the latter choice. I recognize my faults, both physical and otherwise. I am too independent, stubborn, and intelligent. Most men, my mother says (when she's speaking to me, which she still isn't), are intimidated by me. I think that any man who could be intimidated by an intelligent, independent woman isn't much of a man.
So you can see that I have a problem.
I have accepted that I shall wind up my life an old maid. I find that I can bear the news with little difficulty. I do, at times, become maudlin and wish that I could find someone and marry. I would like to have children, for I do love children. I think, however, that I shall make a fine aunt to my sisters' children, and that shall simply have to do...
1 September.Dear Friend,
Forgive the amount of time between this letter and my last, but I have been thinking for quite a while about what I wanted to say. I have a tendency to mangle my intentions when I'm actually speaking, and thus I wanted to get this just right.
I, like you, have accepted the fact that I shall likely spend the rest of my life alone. Yes, I did dream of the woman I'd marry one day, but recently I have come to realize that what I used to want and what I would like now are vastly different. I used to want a woman much like my mother, only without her penchant for lecturing. I thought a woman's place was at home, making a comfortable home for her husband and children. Now, however, my circumstances are so changed that I would probably have to marry a woman who was willing to work so we could have something in life.
But I want something more than that. That last statement might sound like all I want is a workhorse, which isn't the case. I want a woman who is lively and funny, who cares about people. I want someone who loves me as much as I love her. I would hope she would be willing to overlook the terrible things that have happened in my life, forgive me for my role in them, and not try to force issues best left in the past. I want someone who has a brain in her head so that when we sit at home in the evenings we can have real conversations.
Reading that has made me realize something. My dear friend, what I want is someone like you.
11 SEPTEMBER.DEAR CATHERINE DE BOURGH,
I THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THAT YESTERDAY, I SAW YOUR HUSBAND IN THE COMPANY OF A LOVELY YOUNG WOMAN. THEY APPEARED TO BE QUITE INTIMATE WITH EACH OTHER AND LATER I FOLLOWED THEM TO YOUR HOME. THE WOMAN WAS THERE WITH HIM FOR NEARLY FORTY MINUTES BEFORE SHE LEFT.
I WARNED YOU BEFORE THAT YOU SHOULD KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR HUSBAND BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME THIS YOUNG WOMAN HAS BEEN HERE. IN FACT, SHE HAS BEEN SEEING YOUR HUSBAND QUITE REGULARLY SINCE ABOUT THE END OF MAY. I BELIEVE SHE IS AN EMPLOYEE AT YOUR SHOP.
A CONCERNED FRIEND.
12 September.My Darling Caroline,
Last night my wife came home and accused me of having an affair. I denied it vehemently, and had my daughter to back it up. That idea you had about calling her at college was simply brilliant, my darling. I have no idea how she discovered that we have been seeing each other, but I have a feeling that someone has been keeping tabs on us. One of the nosy neighbors, most likely. Therefore, in the future, we need to take greater care that we are not discovered. My wife doesn't know it was you, and for both our sakes I don't want her to know. I think it would be for the best if we started meeting at your apartment. I shall see you there tomorrow.
Your Loving Alfred.
13 September.Dear Mrs. De Bourgh:
Enclosed with this letter is the contract you left behind yesterday when you contacted me about investigating your husband. If you wish to attain my services, please sign the contract and include the retainer. Let me assure you that I am discreet and have a reputation of doing a thorough job. If your husband is seeing another woman, I shall discover this and her identity. I sincerely hope, madam, that I find nothing, but I shall look if that is what you wish.
Sincerely,
Christopher Brandon
Brandon and Associates.
14 September.Dear Friend,
Do you want to meet me? After your last letter, I went and reread all the others we have written over the past few months and realized that I have started to fall in love with you. It sounds mad, does it not? To love someone you've never even met? It's the craziest thing I've done in my life. Were my mother to find out, she would never speak to me again, and this time the "never again" part would last.
Yet I want to meet you. I want to see the wonderful man behind the letters I've been receiving. If this is what you want as well, then we can work something out.
21 September.Dear Friend,
Yes to everything. Name the day.
1 October.Mr. Brandon:
I have given the matter a great deal of thought. The last letter I received said that this woman has been showing up since the end of May. The only employee I have ever had at my home is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and the first time she was at my home was in May when I invited her to dinner. You say that you are willing to discover whether or not my husband is having an affair and who the woman is. Enclosed is the signed contract. Please find out the information, and concentrate on Miss Bennet. I suspect that if Mr. de Bourgh is having an affair, she's the woman he's with.
Catherine de Bourgh
Proprietor, De Bourghs'.
2 October.Dear Friend,
I would say today, but I know you won't be receiving this letter until tomorrow. Unfortunately, I would say tomorrow, but my sister's birthday is coming up, and as she's been in poor health. I want to make the day as wonderful as possible. There is also another problem.
My life is a bit hectic at the moment. For some reason that I cannot understand, my boss has suddenly become rather hostile to me. I don't know what I've done to earn her antipathy, and she has not said anything to explain so I can change things. I knew something was seriously wrong when she stopped talking to me about taking over the store come the first of the year, as she used to. Indeed, she led one of my coworkers into her office yesterday and when they came out, they were both smiling and he looked rather pleased. He kept looking over the shop with a possessive gaze that I fear bodes ill for my future.
At the moment, I am trying to do my level best to keep things together and I feel that perhaps now isn't the time for us to be meeting until my life is back to normal. Try to understand that I'm not rejecting you at all. In fact, I want to meet you so badly that I feel like crying as I write this letter. But I must concentrate on getting back on my employer's good side, or else everything I've worked for is going to go to that monster I told you about back in June.
22 October.Dear Friend,
While I am disappointed, I quite understand your dilemma. Under the circumstances, I would not feel right trying to force you to have to deal with more than you think you can handle. For the time being, we shall simply continue to keep writing to each other. If there is anything I can do to help you out by means of moral support, just write me. I'll respond immediately. And if you should change your mind, please let me know and we'll meet anywhere you wish.
1 November.Dear Friend,
Thank you.
6 December.Dear Mrs. De Bourgh,
I believe that I have discovered the information you have been seeking. It should take no more than another day or two to verify everything, at which time I shall contact you and we can meet at your leisure.
Christopher Brandon
Brandon and Associates.
December 8 -- Anticipation
Elizabeth hurried to work that morning, feeling more excited than she had in a long time to be going to work. At least working would keep her mind off of what was to come this evening.
She'd sent the letter to her Dear Friend asking for a meeting two weeks ago. She'd been a bit reluctant, since her work situation hadn't improved in the least, but she decided that perhaps she'd been wrong in not going to meet the man back in late September when he'd wanted to meet. At least she'd have a solid, real, genuine shoulder to cry on and not just someone to write to. He'd replied very quickly.
Dear Friend,You have no idea how pleased and relieved I was to receive your letter today. I have been eagerly anticipating the day when you would finally agree to meet me, as I'm certain you are well aware. I would like to meet you on December eighth, at 8:00 p.m., at a cafe called Bleeker's. I shall wear a carnation in my lapel. You said in your last letter that you were reading Jane Austen's "Emma," so perhaps you could bring the book and use a carnation as a bookmark.
She had agreed. And so tonight, for the first time since they'd started writing to each other seven months ago, she was going to meet her Dear Friend.
Elizabeth had had trouble sleeping last night, for fear of what she might find tonight when she arrived at Bleeker's. Or what he might think of her. She'd never deceived the man into thinking she was beautiful, but she couldn't quite remember if she'd warned him about how tall she was. What if he had a problem with tall women? What if...
You'll drive yourself mad continuing in this vein. Don't concentrate on him right now, concentrate on work. You have to get through another day with Catherine de Bourgh.
Elizabeth sighed as she turned the final corner. She frowned when she saw who was standing there, reading a newspaper. He was so engrossed that he didn't hear her approach.
"Good morning!" she called when she was less than ten feet away from him.
Charlie looked up from his paper. "Good morning," he said with a smile.
"Charles Bingley, what are you doing here when you should be home with my sister?"
"Your mother arrived at six this morning."
Elizabeth laughed. "Serves me right for not stopping by my parents' apartment this morning. I would've known that and not gotten mad when I saw you here."
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. She's your mother and a nice lady, but she pampers and fusses over Jane until I know my poor wife can't stand it. It's even worse now that the baby's here. Mrs. Bennet insists that Jane is so weak that she can only hold Jamie when she's feeding him."
Elizabeth smiled at the mention of Jane and Charlie's newborn son, named James Monroe Bingley after his grandfather. For all Jane's problems during the pregnancy, the birth itself had gone easier than expected. Jane was a bit weak, but Elizabeth suspected that had more to do with the fact that she'd been doing almost nothing for six months, than with the birth of her son.
Mrs. Bennet, she knew, had been going by almost every day since that slime Billy Collins had revealed that Jane was pregnant. Elizabeth had apologized to Jane many times for how it had come about, but Jane insisted that it was okay.
"I thought Dad had managed to get her to stop."
"You know how determined your mother is. I probably shouldn't have left Jane alone to deal with her, but since your mother's been there every day, I've had to deal with her too until I couldn't take it anymore. I had to come to work."
"It's okay, Charlie. I understand about my mother. Don't forget, I had to live with her for eighteen years."
Charlie looked at his sister-in-law. There seemed to be something different about her today. "You look happy," he said.
"I am. I have a big dinner date tonight."
"That's wonderful! But I thought that you and Mrs. De Bourgh were still at odds."
"We are. My dinner date's not with her." Elizabeth's happiness faded a bit at the intrusion of her employer in her thoughts. "Charlie, do you have any idea why she's been like she is lately?"
"I don't know. As far as I can tell, nothing's changed as far as her attitude toward me is concerned. If it makes you feel any better, Elizabeth, she's been snapping at everyone."
"Hmm." Perhaps, but Elizabeth still couldn't help feeling that she was getting more than her fair share of the abuse, and certainly much more than she ever earned. "Charlie, mind if I ask you something?"
"Not at all."
"How difficult is it to make ends meet now that Jane's stopped working and has the baby?"
Charlie thought on it for a minute. "Well, things are more difficult, of course. There's the doctor bills on top of everything else."
"Under normal circumstances, though?"
"It's not as bad as you might think. It would be easier if Jane was working, but of course she won't go back now."
"Do you get by on what you make here?"
"Yes. Why are you asking?"
"I was just wondering. I've been looking at larger apartments than the one I have now, only they're all out of my range."
"You want to leave the neighborhood?"
"Not really. It's just that I might need more room soon."
"Really?" Charlie's eyes were the size of saucers. Before he could ask what she'd meant by that, Liam Darcy came strolling up the walk.
"Good morning, Charlie, good to have you back," he said with a pleased smile on his face. "Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth nodded her head and frowned. Liam Darcy had become such a thorn in her side she wished that he'd never thought to come to De Bourghs' to look for a job. And lately he'd been even worse, ever since things had gone downhill between herself and Mrs. De Bourgh. Elizabeth wondered just how much of it had to do with Liam.
The past week had been the worst. He'd gone around with such a happy expression on his face that she'd had to correct him many times over on things he did wrong.
"How are your wife and son this morning, Charlie?"
"They're just fine, but I think I might call over there to make sure Jane's okay. I left her to the care of her mother, which might do her more harm than good." Charlie walked away to find a telephone, leaving Elizabeth alone with Liam.
Elizabeth, not really wanting to talk to him, hunted through her handbag until she found her copy of Emma. She opened it when she remembered something that Mrs. De Bourgh had muttered the other day that Elizabeth should address. "Mr. Darcy," she said, shutting her book.
"Yes, Miss Bennet?"
"Yesterday you wore this bright red tie with blue stripes--"
Liam sighed. The shop hadn't even opened and already she was giving him grief. Would this woman ever let up?
He had thought her rather intriguing at first, but as the months wore on and she became even more frustrating, he gave up. She may be fascinating, but she was a royal pain in the neck. She may be attractive, but he'd rather be married to Caroline Wickham.
"As usual, you're mistaken, Miss Bennet. It was a conservative blue tie with bright red stripes. Everyone else thought it looked terrific. And I don't remember ever talking to you about your apparel, and believe me, Miss Bennet, if you don't think there's anything to comment about the clothing you wear, just ask Miss Wickham. So go away and leave my ties alone."
"I don't care if you want to look like a circus attraction, but Mrs. De Bourgh specifically asked me to tell you to stop wearing such loud ties. I have enough trouble with her without your ties coming between us."
"Listen, I sold more merchandise yesterday than anyone else in the shop! One hundred dollars isn't bad for a rainy Monday three weeks before Christmas. Did you tell that to Mrs. De Bourgh?"
"I did."
"And what did she say?"
"She told me, 'Tell him not to wear such loud ties. It's not professional.'"
"Tell her I won't!"
"I will!" Elizabeth was tempted to tell him to inform Mrs. De Bourgh himself, since they seemed rather close, but instead she went back to her copy of Emma.
Charlie came back a minute later. Elizabeth pulled him far enough away so Liam couldn't hear her and asked softly, "Charlie, this outfit is okay to wear to work, isn't it?"
"You look quite nice. Why?"
"Never mind."
"Before Liam arrived, you told me that you were needing extra space."
"Right. You remember that man I've been writing to for the past several months?"
"Oh, yeah. The one from the ad."
"That's the one. We've been writing all these months and one day, I asked him what he was looking for in a wife. He told me that he'd thought about it and realized that he wanted someone like me. So we decided to meet...tonight. At Bleeker's Cafe, at eight o'clock."
"That's wonderful, Elizabeth. I'm glad to hear it."
"Yeah, well, at least one of us is glad. I'm absolutely terrified that this man won't like me. Worse than that, I'm afraid I won't like him nearly as much as I do now."
"It sounds like he's fallen in love with you. Why are you afraid of him liking you?"
"Because we've never actually met."
"You're in love with someone you've never met?"
"Well..." Elizabeth sighed. "I didn't say love. But I like him so very much, Charlie. I'm so scared that he won't like me. What if he's so attractive that a girl like me has no chance to win him?"
"So what do you want? A homely man?"
"No...no. He can be attractive, just...not too attractive. You knock on wood for me, Charlie, so that I get a handsome, but average man. That's all I want."
Liam buried his head in his paper and didn't notice that Elizabeth and Charlie had walked away from him so he couldn't hear their conversation. He would've been relieved if he had noticed, for Elizabeth had taken all the joy out of this morning and left only the fear.
He was meeting her tonight. Tonight. In less than twelve hours, he would be sitting in a cafe across from the young woman whose letters had haunted him and made him fall in love with her. He would be sitting across from a young woman who was everything opposite of what he thought he'd been looking for when he sent that ad on a whim to the newspaper. He'd been hoping to find someone like Gina only to find someone like...
Like her. He didn't even know her name but he loved her. And he knew it was love, for what else would make him so loopy that he would write a letter to her explaining his feelings as he prepared to get ready for this day? He'd written a letter that she wouldn't receive until after they'd met. He hoped it didn't sound too foolish, for he hadn't intended it to. He just wanted her to know how nervous he'd been, in case he appeared in a bad light tonight.
Liam remembered the worry when he hadn't been able to find that letter this morning. He'd searched everywhere in that small apartment and finally found it under a stack of papers. He couldn't remember putting it there, but then, he had written the letter rather late and had been having trouble sleeping since she'd finally agreed to meet him. It was understandable that he would be a bit out of the ordinary. But at least he'd found the letter, and it was in the mail.
And all that was left was to meet her.
Liam looked up over his paper to see Elizabeth and Charlie talking animatedly. He frowned. Imagine, the nerve of that little upstart, telling him what he should and shouldn't wear. As though he had money to spend buying new ties just to please Mrs. De Bourgh. He had to admit, that tie wasn't something he would normally buy for himself, but he'd thought to liven up his wardrobe a bit and that tie cried out originality.
He was thinking of wearing it tonight.
He heard Susan Price and Charlotte Lucas making their way up the street. A moment later, a cab approached, undoubtedly with Mrs. De Bourgh in it. Charlie rushed away from Elizabeth to open the door for their boss. Tipping his hat, he opened the door.
To everyone's surprise, and Charlie's embarrassment, Caroline Wickham stepped out of the cab. "Thank you, Mr. Bingley," she said with a smile. She turned to the driver and opened her purse. She took out a small wad of bills and peeled two off. "There you go, my good man. Keep the change, put your boy through college."
The driver thanked her and drove away. Caroline turned to her colleagues and smiled smugly. "Well, I can see by the looks on your underpaid faces that you're wondering where I got all this money."
"No, Miss Wickham, I don't wonder," Susan muttered.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. I just mean I don't wonder where you get your money. I don't care."
Truth be told, Liam was certain that everyone was dying to know where Caroline Wickham got all that money. He had a feeling it had not been earned by hard work, but it wasn't his business where she got it.
Another cab approached, and again, Charlie rushed over so he could open the door. Before he could get there, however, Billy Collins suddenly appeared and opened the door. Mrs. De Bourgh stepped out, gave money to the driver, and looked at the main window display.
"Good morning, Mrs. De Bourgh," everyone said to her.
"Good morning." She frowned. "This window display is terrible. I've been looking at other shops, and there isn't a worse one anywhere. I think we'll stay late tonight and rearrange everything."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. No! Not tonight! I have to meet my friend tonight!
Charlotte Lucas had been standing next to Liam. He said softly, "I have to get out of it."
"Mr. Darcy, when Mrs. De Bourgh is in this mood, there's no chance you'll be able to."
"I have to. I have a date at eight o'clock, and she'll never forgive me if I don't get there. Tell me, Miss Lucas, did you notice the tie I was wearing yesterday?"
"The blue one with the red stripes? Yeah. I liked it, even if Mrs. De Bourgh didn't."
"How do you know she didn't like it?"
"I heard her telling Elizabeth to have you stop wearing it. She doesn't think it's professional."
Liam sighed. He'd thought Elizabeth was making that up, but now he saw that she hadn't been. "You really liked it?"
"Yes. It's not something I thought you would normally wear, but it did look terrific on you."
"I'm glad you think so. I was planning to wear it tonight." After all, Mrs. De Bourgh and Elizabeth Bennet won't be there.
He started feeling nervous all over again. In less than twelve hours, he would meet her at last.
Explosion
There was tension in the air. Elizabeth didn't know why, today of all days, the entire store had to be on edge. The only person who seemed to be in a good mood was Caroline Wickham...and that was enough to annoy Elizabeth all over again.
Business was brisk for the first two hours, relieving the tension for a while as everyone kept busy, but once it died out, the tension returned.
Elizabeth watched the last of the customers walk out the door, wondering why Mrs. De Bourgh was so upset with her. It had been like this since the beginning of October. She'd thought a great deal about it and could come up with nothing that could've brought about such a rift. She hadn't been rude to a customer. No money had come up missing. They hadn't quarreled outright over Charlie or a window or anything. Yet something had undeniably happened.
For some reason, Elizabeth got the feeling that it was personal, this animosity Mrs. De Bourgh had toward her. And it made no sense.
Elizabeth looked out over the customer-empty store. Her gaze fell on Liam Darcy, and she wondered--as she had before--if he'd had anything to do with it. The man had already proven himself unscrupulous, a liar, and almost subhuman, but he hadn't been believed before. Why was Mrs. De Bourgh believing him now?
She'd stewed over it for two months, had more than her fair share of headaches, and she was tired of it. Something had to change, and she was tired of waiting for Mrs. De Bourgh to tell her what it was. Elizabeth decided to approach her now, while the shop was empty and there would be no risk of losing a sale.
Elizabeth walked over to the office and tapped on the door. "Come in," a distracted voice said.
Elizabeth walked into the room. The moment her eyes locked with Mrs. De Bourgh's a hatred clouded the older woman's.
Hatred? Elizabeth thought she had to be mistaken, but there was no other word to describe it.
"Mrs. De Bourgh..." Elizabeth hesitated to say what was on her mind in the face of that dislike.
"Well, what is it?" Mrs. De Bourgh snapped sharply.
"Mrs. De Bourgh, there's something I'd like to talk to you about."
"Is it important to De Bourghs'?"
"No."
"Then it can wait until later." Mrs. De Bourgh returned to her paperwork.
Elizabeth knew she'd been dismissed. Mrs. De Bourgh's animosity stunned her. Always before, she could count on Mrs. De Bourgh to listen to her. Now she didn't even want to talk to her.
She almost lost her courage, but Elizabeth Bennet hadn't become the top salesperson in all of New York City by backing down from anyone, not even her boss. She didn't leave the room.
It took Catherine a minute to realize that Elizabeth was still standing there. "Well, what do you want now?"
"Mrs. De Bourgh, for some time I've noticed that your attitude toward me has changed, and I don't understand it. I work just as hard as I always have before--"
"And you get paid for it, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Every month?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that should matter. Was there anything else, Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth indeed had a great deal more to say, but she knew the wisdom of not provoking Mrs. De Bourgh in this sort of mood, especially when it seemed to be directed at her, so she held her tongue and left the room.
Charlie was waiting for her. "What happened?"
Elizabeth expelled a frustrated breath. "I swear to God, Charlie, I'm not going to take much more of this. I don't know what bee has gotten into her bonnet, but I'm tired of feeling the sting. Why has she taken it all out on me lately?"
"Well, you are her oldest employee," Charlie offered.
"Oh, that's a perfect reason," Elizabeth said sarcastically.
"It's not just you, Elizabeth. She's been picking at everyone. The last day I was here before Jane had the baby, she called me an idiot. What could I do? I said, 'Yes, Mrs. De Bourgh, I'm an idiot.' I'm no fool."
"I'm not either. That's why I might just take my chances, quit this job and try to find a place where I can be appreciated. I can find another job easily."
"Can you? Be realistic. Millions of people are out of work. You'd have one strike against you by being a woman."
"I might be a woman, but I'm the best salesperson around. I can name half a dozen shops that would kill to have someone like me in their stores, and yet I've stayed here because I felt such loyalty to her. And look at how she's repaying me. She's been blatantly rude and she's probably going to give this place to Liam Darcy. And if I told you everything I knew about him, you'd wonder whether or not she'd lost her mind!"
"Keep your voice down, Elizabeth," Charlie hissed, looking around the shop to see if anyone had heard her. "And I'm not saying that you wouldn't be able to find a job. I'm just saying it's tough. And don't forget, you were the one talking about getting a larger apartment earlier today."
Elizabeth knew what he meant by that, because she wouldn't be able to get a better apartment without two incomes. Leaving her job now could jeopardize everything, especially since she'd told her friend how much she enjoyed her work.
"Look, this might only be temporary. Maybe she's got business on her mind...or her daughter. They say that when the children leave home, mothers take it quite hard. Or maybe she's having troubles with her husband."
Caroline had been half-listening to the conversation between them, as it had little news other than the possibility of Elizabeth leaving De Bourghs'. The mere mention of marital problems caused her to give up her pretense of dusting shelves to ask, "Is that true, Bingley? Is she having trouble with her husband?"
Elizabeth had walked away because she'd seen Caroline approaching, leaving a flustered Charlie behind. Charlie uttered, "We were just talking. What are you doing? I don't know anything, I'm just talking to Elizabeth, go away, leave me alone..."
Caroline was used to Charlie acting that way around her and thought nothing peculiar, but the merest suggestion that Mrs. De Bourgh suspected Alfred of having an affair worried her. They'd been beyond discreet, furtive, secluded. Had she caught on?
Charlie caught up to Elizabeth. "Lisa, please," he murmured in a low voice. "Think it over before doing anything rash. You've put in eight years here, and I'm sure things will be fine soon."
"I hope you're right, Charlie, because I don't think I can take much more of this."
Elizabeth walked into the stock room where Billy and Liam were putting bags on the top shelf.
"Miss Bennet, do you think I'll have to stay late tonight? My father has a rather dreadful cold, and I'm needed to help him out."
"It's okay, Billy. I'll talk to Mrs. De Bourgh about it. Besides, you'd probably be more of hindrance than a help." Elizabeth sighed. "Speaking of which, Miss Lucas has several deliveries she needs you to make. Go see her."
Billy walked out quickly. Liam looked at Elizabeth, wondering how he could possibly convince her that he needed to have the night off as well. He had no excuse like Billy's, and the real reason wasn't likely to impress her.
Liam thought about it and wondered if perhaps flattery would work. She was a woman, after all.
Elizabeth had picked up two traveling bags and was preparing to climb up the ladder to place them on the shelf.
"If you'll hand those to me, Miss Bennet, I can put them up for you."
They were heavier than Elizabeth expected, so she accepted the help graciously. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy."
"Not a problem at all, Miss Bennet. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"I think you and Billy got most of it."
"It was no trouble at all."
Elizabeth climbed down from the ladder and prepared to leave.
"Miss Bennet...about my ties."
She almost groaned. She was in no mood for another fight. "Mr. Darcy, I know I seemed harsh and I'm sorry--"
"Oh, it's--no, I didn't want--I wanted--" Damn! Why can I never speak a simple declarative sentence? "I wanted to apologize for my statements. I was wrong and you were right. The tie I wore yesterday was just awful. Mrs. De Bourgh was right in having you tell me to not wear it again."
"Well...I didn't think it was such a bad tie. Indeed, outside of this sort of setting I think it would be quite dashing, but...for business, it was a bit de trop."
"Indeed it was," Liam said. He was floundering. He had no idea how to flatter this woman, because she was such an unnatural woman. "You know, I've come to realize that anyone who works here for long and doesn't learn something from you about sales is just plain dumb. And I'd tell anyone that regardless of how I felt about you personally."
"Why would you say that, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth's interest was piqued.
"Well...you're so smart...and innovative. You're not like other women."
Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "How?"
"Oh! I didn't mean that in a bad way. I meant..." What had he meant? "Most women would use a job like this to snare a husband. When I worked at Hirsch and Co., all three of the women wanted to snag a wealthy man. It was sad, really. But you...Miss Bennet, when a man arrives at that door, you're only interested in selling him something. I admire that about you."
Elizabeth beamed. "Well, I just don't think that any man would show interest in me, so why bother?"
"I think you sell yourself short, Miss Bennet."
"Even if my wardrobe is decidedly lacking?" Elizabeth's eyes sparkled, and Liam was once again taken aback by what a pretty young woman she was and how lovely were her eyes.
"I'm sorry about saying that. It was inappropriate, and your wardrobe is more than adequate...but I had to defend my tie."
Elizabeth laughed, and Liam found himself liking the sound of it. "Then I forgive you. You know, you're showing a great deal of sense today, and I rather like that about you." I just wish I didn't find what you've done so repulsive. I wish I didn't have my doubts about whether or not you did what Caroline said. But why would Caroline lie if it weren't true?
Liam decided that now would be the best time to broach the real subject. "You know, I'm glad you said that about my tie because I was planning to wear that tonight. I have a very important--"
"Tonight? Don't you remember what Mrs. De Bourgh said? We have to stay after close to redo the window."
"Oh...I forgot. We do, don't we?"
"Yes." Elizabeth turned her attention to some rather pretty jewelry boxes and missed the nervous, calculating look on Liam's face.
"Uh...Miss Bennet, do you think you could spare me tonight? If you talked to Catherine and got her approval, then she would probably let me go."
Elizabeth's cheeks flamed. Manipulated again. "Oh, so that's why you've changed your attitude toward me all of the sudden. I wondered what you were plotting."
"I don't understand, Miss Bennet." Liam tried to look innocent, but he knew he was failing miserably.
"You want to get the night off."
"I have to have it, Miss Bennet."
"You're out of luck. God, that was obvious! And I almost fell for it."
"Please, I have to have tonight off! I have a very important date and I have to be there. It's vitally important."
"Well, I have somewhere to be as well, but I'll probably end up staying. If I can't go, why should I speak to Catherine on your behalf?"
"I thought perhaps you--"
"You've done nothing but antagonize me for the last six months, and now you think flattering me for a few minutes is going to change all that?"
"You haven't exactly been very nice to me, either. You get so nitpicky about everything I could scream. You tell me to do things your way, and even after I do you don't like it. You tell me how to do everything as though I were a child. I'm a man, and a fairly intelligent one at that. I have ideas that you don't even listen to."
"Mr. Darcy, I've been in the sales business long before you ever thought that people had to earn money by doing work. I can tell the difference between a good idea and a bad idea. And if you have problems taking orders from a woman--"
"Spare me your suffragette speeches, all right? They get tiring. The day may soon come, Miss Bennet, when I will no longer have to take orders from you, and then I'll let you know how I really feel about you." Liam paused. "And as for that tie, I happen to think it's nice and I'm going to wear it tonight."
Elizabeth didn't hear the last part of his declaration. She had stilled for a moment. The day may soon come...no longer take orders from you.
She knew what it meant. Eight years of hard work destroyed by this selfish, rotten, evil...She had no doubt now who was behind the troubles between Mrs. De Bourgh and herself.
Liam took advantage of her sudden silence to walk into the showroom. Mrs. De Bourgh was staring absent-mindedly at the cigarette boxes that had never sold.
"Mrs. De Bourgh?" He asked hesitantly, walking over to her.
"Yes, Liam?"
"I was wondering if you could spare me tonight? I have to be somewhere rather important."
Mrs. De Bourgh thought for a moment. "Let's see...we'll need only three people to redo that window, so...Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth had managed to calm down and walk out of the back room. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Do you think you can do without Mr. Darcy tonight?"
Elizabeth glared at Liam. Typical of the man to heap this on her shoulders. "Actually, Mrs. De Bourgh, I was wanting to talk to you. See, I--"
"What--do you want the night off as well?" Mrs. De Bourgh's eyes were blazing again, and Elizabeth felt a little nervous. It was one thing to take a tongue-lashing in private, and quite another to have to bear it in front of everyone else.
"Well, yes."
Mrs. De Bourgh finally exploded. "What is this? Does everyone want the night off? Is this the interest you show in my shop?"
Charlie, thinking he would be doing Elizabeth a favor, entered the conversation hesitantly. "Mrs. De Bourgh, I've talked it over with Miss Bennet and I know her ideas. I think that if I stayed, along with--"
"You and Miss Bennet talked it over? Whose shop is this, anyhow?"
"Mrs. De Bourgh, please. I rarely ask for any favors, but tonight I need to. There's someplace I need to be. If I'd known yesterday that you'd want to redo the window--"
"Next time I'll send you an engraved invitation." Elizabeth flinched. "Very well, Miss Bennet, you need the night off so badly, you have it."
"Mrs. De Bourgh, I'm sorry. Let me explain--"
"You got your night off. What more do you want--a brass band to see you off?" Mrs. De Bourgh turned to the group of motionless employees. "Once a year, I ask six ladies and gentlemen, six mind you, to stay late. I don't need six. The shop across the street is twice this size and employs only four!"
A middle-aged woman walked in, cutting off Mrs. De Bourgh's tirade. Mrs. De Bourgh smiled at her as though nothing were wrong. "Good morning, madam. How may I help you?"
"Do you have any traveling bags for men--with zippers?"
"Oh, yes, madam, we have all sorts of traveling bags with zippers for men."
"That's wonderful. I'm going to let my husband know he can come here. He'll be here tomorrow to look over what you have."
"Thank you, madam."
"Thank you."
Mrs. De Bourgh escorted the lady out the door, then turned back to her hapless staff. "Six people, who stand around all day doing nothing, when I have to pay for the gas and the lights and the rent and the taxes, and their salaries!"
The telephone rang. Mrs. De Bourgh picked it up. "Good morning, De Bourghs'." She listened for a moment, then looked at Charlie. "Mr. Bingley."
Charlie looked sheepish as he picked up the phone. "Hello? Yes, Jane, I did call. I have to work late tonight, so we won't be able to have dinner with your parents. Isn't that wonderful?...I knew you would be pleased. Good-bye, darling." Charlie hurriedly hung up.
And Mrs. De Bourgh continued. "Six people I ask for one small favor...and you, Miss Bennet, my oldest employee, who should be setting the example..."
Elizabeth, finally, had had enough. "Mrs. De Bourgh, you spoke like this to me yesterday, and I don't know what I did to deserve it. In fact, you've been acting strangely towards me for two months, and with no reason at all."
"No reason?" That seemed to take the spark out of her eyes. "Perhaps I have better reason than you think."
Elizabeth wanted to scream, What reason? but she didn't. "It's pretty clear that you're dissatisfied with me."
"You...can draw your own conclusions."
Elizabeth bit back tears at the almost aloof way Mrs. De Bourgh held herself. "Then if that's how you feel, then there's really nothing more to be done. Perhaps we should just call it a day."
Mrs. De Bourgh was about to say something when the phone rang again. She picked it up. "Hello? Oh, hello Alfred. What? Oh, I forgot...Charlotte, put three hundred dollars in an envelope and have Billy take it to Mr. de Bourgh."
"Billy's out with delivery, ma'am. He'll likely be gone most of the afternoon."
Charlie again tried to intercede. "Mrs. De Bourgh, Miss Bennet and I have lunch at Fargo's, just a few blocks away from your house. We could take it by there, couldn't we, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth hesitated, but said, "Yes."
"No, thank you, Miss Bennet." Mrs. De Bourgh looked around the room and spotted Caroline, who was studiously looking at the floor. "Miss Wickham, would you mind taking this? I know it would interfere with your lunch hour, but--"
"Don't worry about that, ma'am. It would be a pleasure."
The scene ended with a customer walking into the store, Elizabeth rushing to get the sale, and Catherine de Bourgh walking back to her office to contemplate what she was eventually to do later that evening.
The World's Turned Upside Down.
Posted on February 2, 1998
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident for Elizabeth, with one small exception. At about two in the afternoon, she received a most unusual telephone call from her youngest sister Lydia.
"Good, I got you, Lisa," she said. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to talk to me."
"What is it you want, Lydia?"
"Well, you see...I have this new boyfriend. I met him through the personals, so you know that Mom doesn't like him because he didn't grow up in the neighborhood and she doesn't know his family. And Dad doesn't like him for God only knows what reason, so they've told me that I can't go out with him. I think it's most unfair, and as I happen to be an adult I think I should be able to choose who I go out with, but Dad says that as long as I'm living under his roof that I'm going to do what he says, so I told him that I was going to move out and Mom said that I wasn't going to become the second Bennet daughter to make her a laughingstock and--"
"Would you please get to the point!"
"Sorry. Anyway, I have a date with him...his name's George, did I tell you that? I have a date with George, and I need you to cover for me."
"How will I do that?"
"Well, actually, all you need to do is not go home until later this evening. Then, when Mom or Dad ask, the two of us were together."
"Won't work."
"Why not?"
"Because I have to stay late tonight and work on a window. Charlie's got to stay with me, so me telling anyone that story would be spotted as a lie, because he never learned the art form of deception."
"Then tell them that we went after you got off work! Please, Elizabeth. I don't ask you for much, you know. And this guy is so wonderful that I don't understand why Mom's being so obstinate about him. If she rejected everyone not from the neighborhood, we never would've married into those spheres she wanted us to marry into before the Depression."
"The 'sphere' she wanted us to marry into, as you put it, was one where family lineages were known throughout the country."
"Well, really the only thing she has against George is that I met him through a personal ad. I know that you can't understand how those things work, but..."
Elizabeth sighed, thinking of the man she was supposed to be meeting tonight, the one who wouldn't know that she had been forced to miss their date. He probably wouldn't forgive her, no matter how many apologetic letters she wrote.
"Don't worry about it, Lydia. I'll make sure Mom and Dad don't know anything," she said quietly. "I hope this man is worth it, though."
She could almost hear Lydia smiling. "He is."
After that phone call, there were plenty of customers to distract Elizabeth from everything else.
Catherine de Bourgh spent the afternoon thinking things over before making a difficult decision. She came out to close the store and returned to her office, leaving the window in the employees' hands.
She then spent the next thirty minutes writing a letter. When she finished, she looked over the document with a heavy heart.
Elizabeth was helping Liam decorate the top of the Christmas tree she'd decided to place in the window, occasionally glaring at him. She received her share of glares in return.
Mrs. De Bourgh looked at Elizabeth for a long minute before saying, "Miss Bennet, could you come into my office for a moment?"
A bit apprehensive, but believing that perhaps this whole situation was finally to be talked out, Elizabeth walked to Mrs. De Bourgh's office and shut the door.
"Yes, Mrs. De Bourgh?"
"Elizabeth, I've given a lot of thought on what you said earlier."
"Mrs. De Bourgh, I'm so sorry for that. I'm afraid I lost my temper and--"
"No, no. I've thought about it and I think you were right. I think you'd...be happier somewhere else."
Elizabeth's body went cold. She couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard, because it sounded as though she'd just been fired.
There must be some sort of mistake. I've been here eight years...she's talked of letting me take over...
Liam's words came back to her. "Someday soon...no longer have to take orders from you..."
Mrs. De Bourgh said nothing as Elizabeth took in the news.
He knew! Elizabeth's mind screamed. He knew I was going to be fired! Bad enough that it's happened, but for him to know before she bothered to tell me!
"Normally, you'd be entitled to one months' salary...but I've given you two."
Oh God, this is really happening? Why? What did I do? Elizabeth wanted to ask that question. She wanted to beg Mrs. De Bourgh to tell her how she could make amends. She wanted to beg for her job.
But she couldn't. Elizabeth Kate Bennet might kowtow to customers, but she had her pride. She would never beg.
"Thank you," she said in a hollow voice.
"You'll need to sign this receipt..." Mrs. De Bourgh handed her a slip of paper. Elizabeth found a pencil and scrawled her name.
Mrs. De Bourgh held out an envelope for her to take. "This...is a letter of recommendation that certainly won't handicap you in finding another job."
Elizabeth's bloodless fingers took the envelope.
Never in her life had Catherine felt so terrible. For all she'd said earlier, for everything she felt toward Elizabeth now, she was still the best worker she'd ever had...and she'd been a good friend. If only...
Never mind dwelling on that. "Good bye, Elizabeth." She extended her hand.
Elizabeth shook it, then slowly walked out of the room, dazed.
Five eager faces stood outside the door, waiting for her to tell them what the boss had wanted. "Well?" Charlie asked.
Elizabeth looked at them. She'd miss them all...even Caroline.
With a faint smile, and trembling fingers, she opened the letter and read it to them.
To whom it may concern,I wish to state that Miss Elizabeth Bennet leaves my employ of her own accord. She began working at De Bourghs' eight years ago as an apprentice. Through her diligence and dedication she worked her way up to the position of clerk, and for the past three years she has been our top salesperson. Miss Bennet has consistently impressed us with her intelligence, hard work, honesty, and generosity. We believe that she would be a valuable asset to any company, and can recommend her without reserve. Miss Bennet has our best wishes for her health, happiness, and future success in her career.
Catherine de Bourgh
Proprietor, De Bourghs'.
The group sat in stunned silence at the news that the best of them had just been fired. Elizabeth didn't think she could handle their pity and quickly made her way to the employees' room. She stood in front of her locker, still in shock herself. She knew that in a very short time this was going to sink in and she would be in no shape to appear in front of anyone. She had to get away, and quickly.
Elizabeth looked at the carnation, sitting in a tiny vase of water, the one she'd planned to use as a bookmark. She heard someone walk in as she kept looking at it and figured it was Charlie.
"Lisa...how could this have happened?"
"If I could explain it to you, Charlie, I would. But I can't."
"To be fired...you...without reason!"
"That's the advantage of being the boss. You don't have to explain anything." Elizabeth took the flower out of her locker and sighed. "Well, I guess I got out of tonight after all." She pitched the carnation into the trash can.
"You're not going?"
"No. I can't face him tonight. I...I made such a point about being independent, of my job, how I had no plans of quitting should I ever marry. If I meet him tonight, without a job...he'd probably think I was lying to him all along. I can't do it, Charlie." Her voice cracked as she said, "The world's turned upside down, and I have no idea how to turn it right again."
Elizabeth put her coat and hat on, stuffed her book into her handbag, took one last look around the room, then went out to face her former co-workers for the last time.
They were still in the same places they'd been before she'd gone into the employees' room, frozen in shock. She knew what they were thinking--that if she'd been fired, the person who'd had the most experience and was the most loyal and hard working, then they could be fired as well.
Elizabeth didn't particularly care about their feelings at the moment, but she could understand and empathize with the fact that their futures were as tenuous as hers. The only difference was, they still had jobs and she didn't.
She looked at Liam Darcy with a hard look in her eye, but she noticed something right away. He was even more stunned than the rest of them...almost as though he really hadn't been expecting her to get fired. There was such a shocked and horrified look on his face that Elizabeth realized he'd had no idea she was about to be fired.
But she still got the feeling he'd had something to do with it.
It was Caroline who finally said something. "Miss Bennet, I think I speak for everyone when I say that this is a shock for all of us. We all feel as though we're losing a part of our family...and certainly the best worker here. Please...take care of yourself...and good luck to you in the future." She extended her hand for Elizabeth to shake.
"Thank you, Miss Wickham." Elizabeth took the hand limply, then let it go.
It was Susan Price who spoke next. "I don't understand," she said. "Why is this happening?"
"I don't know, Susan. I guess it's just one of those things...maybe it was time for me to go. You stay in one place too long and things get stale. This sort of thing happens every day, you know...someone getting fired. I'm going to miss you, Susan. Say hello to your aunt for me."
Susan nodded, her head lowered, clearly blinking back tears.
Elizabeth turned to Charlotte and Charlie next. "Well, I'm going to see the two of you, of course. Charlie, if you need baby-sitting duties, it appears that I'm going to have plenty of time on my hands now."
"Don't joke about this, Elizabeth," he murmured.
"I'm not. I'll expect you to pay me well, of course." She managed to keep her smile, but she soon turned to business. "Miss Lucas, you'll see that the sale on my number five ticket had to be canceled, but I already deducted it from the final totals for today. Everything should be in order."
Charlotte could do nothing more than nod.
Finally, Elizabeth and Liam faced each other. "Mr. Darcy," she said slowly, "if I was the reason that you didn't get tonight off, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about that," he said. "Miss Bennet, I feel responsible for what happened. I know this is all my fault, because I started that business this afternoon--"
"Don't blame yourself," she said. "I think this was coming for a while now."
"I know we didn't get along all that well before, but please believe me that I wouldn't have wished this on you. This is a dreadful time to be out of work, something you don't wish--"
"--on your worst enemy, I know."
"I wasn't going to say that."
Elizabeth couldn't help smiling. "Let's not end our relationship in an argument, okay?"
He nodded. "Good-bye, Miss Bennet."
"Good-bye, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth took one last look around the shop she'd loved so much for the past eight years. She felt the pain rising, the realization of what had happened setting in...she had to go.
Elizabeth hastily set down the pencil and notebook with the De Bourghs' design on them, said one final good-bye to everyone, and walked out of the shop for the last time. She managed to make it around the corner before she stopped, her shoulders shaking and her body practically convulsing with the sobs coming from deep within her.
Her words to Charlie haunted her. The world's been turned upside down, and I have no idea how to turn it right again.
Elizabeth didn't notice when a pair of strong arms enveloped her, cradling her head on his chest and she sobbed. She stayed like this for a few minutes before finally coming to the realization that someone was holding her, and when she looked up she saw the lamplight reflecting off of his copper hair. With a feral moan, she ripped herself out of his arms and ran away, thinking that of all the gall that man had, it had been extreme in holding her as she'd cried, when he was the reason for it all.
Liam stared after her, wishing there'd been more he could've done to help her. He had an idea of what she was thinking. He wish he could've told her that he'd had nothing to do with it, but she wouldn't have believed him anyway. He'd admired the way she'd held herself together in front of them, but sensed that she would break down quickly and knew she'd need a shoulder to cry on, even if it was his.
He couldn't help wishing that she hadn't run off so quickly, because he'd liked the way she'd felt in his arms. She was tall enough that he didn't have to bend down just to look into her eyes. She was, to his surprise, in possession of a nice figure, which had fit into his arms rather nicely. He only wished that her eyes had been brighter and happier.
You're only thinking about her because you know the woman you're supposed to be meeting tonight is going to hate you for not showing up. And no matter how much you might apologize, she'll never forgive you for it. She'll take it the wrong way, just as you would if she didn't show.
Liam sighed and returned to the shop. The window still wasn't finished, and he was the only one tall enough to finish the top of the tree without needing the ladder. He would have time enough later to wish he'd been able to meet his friend, and to wonder why Elizabeth Bennet continued to haunt him even after he'd determined to put her out of his mind forever.
The Report
Catherine de Bourgh had been waiting two days for the telephone call that finally came soon after she'd heard Elizabeth Bennet leave the shop. She was still miserable, wondering why, of all her employees, it had to be the one she trusted and cared for the most that had stabbed her in the heart. Why it had to be Elizabeth who had had an affair with her husband.
It could only be her. She was the only one who had actually met Alfred in a social setting at those three dinners she'd invited her to during the spring and early summer.
The phone rang shrilly, and Catherine picked it up. "Hello?" she said quickly.
"Mrs. De Bourgh? This is Christopher Brandon."
"Yes?"
"I have confirmation of the information you've been seeking. I can meet with you anytime it's convenient."
"Oh...all right. Please...come right over. I'll be waiting." Catherine hung up the phone and looked at the door. Brandon and Associates was about five blocks from here, so Mr. Brandon should soon be here, telling her what she'd suspected since that second letter had come...that Alfred had been having an affair...and having it with Elizabeth Bennet. There was no doubt that it was true...confirmation was the word Brandon had used, after all.
She had to get her employees out of the shop immediately. She quickly opened the door and said, "Everyone...you can all go home. We'll finish the window tomorrow morning before we open."
Liam looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty...which meant that he wouldn't have time to go home and get his tie, but he would have just enough time to get to Bleeker's Cafe in time to meet his friend.
Thank you, God! he wanted to shout as he raced into the employee room, grabbed his coat, and took out the tiny vase he'd hidden there earlier, hiding the carnation he was to wear to identify himself to her. He accidentally bumped into Charlotte Lucas, who grinned as he excused himself hurriedly. "Sorry," he said. "Good night!"
"Good night, Mr. Darcy," Charlotte said with a grin.
Charlie stayed behind just long enough to make a telephone call. "Mrs. Younge...this is Charles Bingley. I'm Elizabeth Bennet's brother-in-law...yes, I know she hasn't come home yet. When she does, could you tell her that we've gotten off work early, and that I'll be over there in just a little while? She should be coming home soon."
The woman agreed to tell her tenant to wait for Charlie, who then called Jane. "Janie, it's Charlie. I don't know if Lisa's talked to you, but she got fired today, and I don't think she should be alone. I'm going over there now to tell her to come to our house. She can sleep on the couch if she wants, but I don't want her to go home alone."
When he looked up after calling his wife, Mrs. De Bourgh was standing there. Charlie looked guilty, but he realized that he had every right to call his wife and voice concern over a member of his family. "I...I hope you didn't mind that I called from here," he said, refusing to apologize for being worried about Elizabeth.
"Not at all."
"She's going to be feeling down tonight...and..."
"You don't need to apologize about it to me, Mr. Bingley. I'm well aware of your relationship to her."
Charlie realized that he'd probably made a bad situation worse by suggesting that he had talked to Elizabeth about the windows during the explosion today, and prayed that he wasn't about to get himself in trouble. "Mrs. De Bourgh, she was the best worker you'd ever had. Why did you let her go?"
"Mr. Bingley..."
"Her entire life since she became of age to get a job, and she spent it here. She loved this place so much...and you treated her just as if she were your own daughter, inviting her to your home several times, telling her that you were probably going to let her take over the shop when you retired."
"Mr. Bingley, you like having your job here, don't you?"
Charlie knew he'd gone too far. "Yes, Mrs. De Bourgh. I have a family. Jane and our baby Jamie."
"Then you wouldn't want anything to happen to it and wreck things for your wife and infant son." Mrs. De Bourgh was cold, but she didn't want to talk about Elizabeth Bennet any longer. "Good night, Mr. Bingley."
"Good night, Mrs. De Bourgh." Charlie left the store, hurrying to get to Elizabeth's apartment building and trying not to think of the troubling conversation he'd just had.
Charlotte and Susan Price were the next to leave, saying cheerful good nights to Mrs. De Bourgh before she could change her mind about giving them the rest of the evening off.
Caroline Wickham stayed behind for a quick moment. "Good night, Mrs. De Bourgh."
"Good night, Caroline," Mrs. De Bourgh said politely, mentally shooing the woman out of her shop.
"Oh...I don't think I remembered to pass along Mr. de Bourgh's message to you when I came back from delivering the money to him. He wanted me to tell you that if you decided not to work late tonight to call him. Did I tell you that?"
"You did, Miss Wickham, but thank you for reminding me."
"You're welcome, Mrs. De Bourgh." Caroline paused deliberately, then said, "You know, Mrs. De Bourgh, the last time I had the pleasure of going to your home you were in the process of redecorating the dining room and getting new place settings. You remember...you had me take something to Mr. de Bourgh that you'd forgotten to send with Billy? Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I thought what you did was exquisite. I can only imagine what it would look like in the evenings with candles around it...at a dinner party." Having planted the first seeds and taken her first steps towards taking over Elizabeth Bennet's place in the shop, she smiled and said, "Good night, Mrs. De Bourgh."
"Good night," she replied, too occupied to pay much attention to what Caroline had said.
Catherine locked the door behind her and stood inside the empty shop, waiting for Mr. Brandon to arrive. A few moments later, there was a sharp knock on the door. She peeked out the window to see him standing there. She opened the door and let him in. "Good evening, Mr. Brandon," she said.
"Good evening, Mrs. De Bourgh." He took off his hat and then took a folder he'd been keeping hidden in his coat.
"It's true, then?" she asked quietly. "You said 'confirmation' over the phone."
"I'm afraid it is, and it isn't," Brandon said. "This is the report on Alfred de Bourgh. Last night, at 8:00, he left your residence and took a taxi to 42nd Street. From there, he engaged another taxi and went to a cafe called Bleeker's. There he was joined by a young lady. The two of them had dinner, then parted. He took a taxi to the Danube Hotel, where he was rejoined by the same young lady. The two of them spent the evening in room 252. Mr. de Bourgh left at around 1:15 am and returned home.
"But you were wrong about something. You see, Mrs. De Bourgh, you were right to suspect one of your employees...but it wasn't the right one. My two operators identified the woman Mr. de Bourgh was with as Miss Wickham."
Catherine paled visibly. "Wickham?"
Brandon sighed, wishing he didn't have to do this for a living. He hated it. But in these troubled times... "Yes," he said. "Caroline Louisa Wickham. She's been in your employ for about two years, correct?"
"Nearly three."
"We traced the young lady you suspected, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, until we realized that it couldn't possibly be her from the information you gave us about your husband's whereabouts during the month of October. That's when we concentrated on the others, and eliminated Miss Lucas and Miss Price. That left us with Miss Wickham, and although she went to great efforts, as did your husband, to conceal the affair, we...were able to find it out. I'm sorry, Mrs. De Bourgh. I sincerely wish that I could've come today and told you that it wasn't true at all."
"Why did you not tell me before?"
"You said you didn't want to hear from me again until I could tell you for certain every detail. And now I have."
The enormity of what she'd done that afternoon impacted her with a heavy weight. She had suspected and believed that Elizabeth Bennet had betrayed her. She had thought she was correct in knowing that Elizabeth had been the only employee to visit her home, other than Billy. But now she remembered...Caroline herself had told her...that she'd sent Caroline to her home once before...she'd sent her there today...
And she'd fired the wrong woman. She'd fired her best employee, thinking she was the traitor in her midst...and she'd been innocent all along. Catherine realized that she hadn't even allowed Elizabeth a chance to defend herself, because she'd never told her what she suspected. And even if she had, and Elizabeth denied it, she wouldn't have believed her.
But more than that was the fact that Alfred really had had an affair with another woman...a prettier, younger, vivacious...lying, conniving, loathsome...
"Twenty-two years we've been married," Catherine said softly. "We were so happy until this year. I guess he was afraid of getting older and wanted to feel young again..." She looked at the sympathy in Brandon's eyes and couldn't take it. "If you'll send me your bill, I'll make sure it's taken care of immediately."
"Thank you, Mrs. De Bourgh...and again, I apologize for the news I had to bring."
"Do not apologize for doing your job. It's better that I know for certain than to be quagmired in doubt. Thank you, sir." She led him out the door numbly, shutting it behind him.
She walked through her empty shop, a reflection of her empty life, and thought about the last several years. She'd taken over this shop because it was either that or sell it. She'd supported her husband because he couldn't fend for himself. She'd raised their daughter and could realize that Hannah's father was more of an influence than she was, which might explain why the girl was getting such bad grades and only caring for what boys and parties she could attend.
Catherine walked into her office, shutting the door behind her, trying to forget everything. Very soon, it would be all over.
Billy Collins was very late. It wasn't his fault that he'd gotten four deliveries within thirty minutes of close, but he hoped Mrs. De Bourgh wouldn't be upset with the fact that he was so late getting back. He'd hurried as quickly as he could on his bicycle, after all.
Billy opened the door to De Bourghs', calling, "Good even--" He stopped when he realized that no one was in there.
While he was pondering where everyone had gone, the phone rang. No one being around to answer it, Billy picked it up. "Hello?"
"Is Billy there?" It was the annoyed voice of Mr. de Bourgh.
Billy almost groaned. He was supposed to stop by Jabot's before he'd come back to the shop to pick up Mr. de Bourgh's favorite cologne, and he'd forgotten. He quickly raised his voice and said, "No, Mr. de Bourgh, this is Miss Price speaking."
"He forgot my cologne, and I need it tonight."
"He did? Oh, that's too bad. I tell you what. When I see him tomorrow, I'll give a good scolding to the little rascal, all right?"
"I suppose so, but make sure he gets it to me first thing in the morning. I'll simply have to do without."
"Okay. Good night!" Billy hung up before Mr. de Bourgh could continue, rolling his eyes at the phone. It was at times like these that he could understand why Mrs. De Bourgh had had to take over the shop rather than her husband, because he was such an idiot he couldn't get his own damn cologne.
Billy was still curious to know where everyone was. He checked in the employees' room, but all the coats were gone. Yet someone had to be there, because the door was unlocked. Perhaps they were in Mrs. De Bourgh's office.
Billy walked over to the door and slowly opened it without knocking first. What he saw there shocked him.
Catherine de Bourgh was standing by her desk, holding a Derringer to her temple and looking like she was about to pull the trigger.
"Mrs. De Bourgh! Don't do that! Mrs. De Bourgh!" Billy screamed, reaching for the gun.
"Go away! Go away!" she shouted.
A gunshot rang out.