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Posted on Tuesday, 10 January 2006
“Lizzy, you silly girl!” cried Mrs Gardiner with much forced laughter. “Such a prank! You have shocked us all to the marrow indeed! I was never more diverted! Ruined! That is too, too droll.” She rushed over to Lizzy’s side and shielded her from everyone else’s view with her plump body.
“All our nieces enjoy enacting tragedies for our amusement at the drop of a hat!” explained Mr Gardiner. “A highly entertaining custom, but I can see how it would adversely affect the uninitiated. Do not be alarmed, Miss Elizabeth is only funning.”
“She must be a very good actress then,” said Caroline, “for I found her tears quite convincing.”
“Are you entirely certain?” asked Darcy, attempting to peer around Mrs Gardiner.
“It is no use Aunt!” cried Lizzy. “There is no hiding such a scandal from the world. My sister has left all her friends and has gone off from Brighton in the company of Mr Wickham!”
Mr Bingley appeared to be suffering from a physical blow, so pained was his expression. “Your sister!” he was heard to utter.
“Lizzy!” coaxed Mrs Gardiner. “We have all enjoyed your performance exceedingly, but one can have too much of a good thing.”
“Not Jane!” cried Lizzy. “She is only relaying the news, Mr Bingley. It is my other sister.”
His relief was palpable. He slumped upon a chair, fanning himself.
“I do not find any part of this display amusing at all,” said Georgiana icily. “Fitzwilliam, if you cannot restrain your guests I shall have to ring for Plimstock to escort them to the door.”
“I do believe Miss Darcy has the right of it,” said Mr Gardiner jovially. “We have imposed upon your generosity beyond the customary half hour visit. Now we must be off to our other engagements. We look forward to seeing you again when we are all in Town. Indeed, you must dine at our home upon your earliest convenience.”
Georgiana only sniffed and turned her back.
Caroline forced her way past Mrs Gardiner’s bulk and knelt before Lizzy. “You cannot leave before something is done for your present relief, Miss Bennet,” she said.
Darcy looked at her, his expression solicitous. “Shall I get you a glass of wine?”
“Wine is not a good idea,” hissed Caroline.
Lizzy glanced from one to the other as she dried her eyes with her handkerchief. “I am afraid you have long been desiring my absence.”
“Not at all,” Darcy answered with real, unavailing concern. “Would to heaven I could say or do something to offer consolation to such distress.”
“Indeed,” agreed Caroline. “What has been done to recover your sister? Is there any way we could be of service to you?”
“Lizzy,” squealed her aunt. “Can you please assure your gullible friends that this is all a lark?” She snatched Jane’s letter from her niece’s limp grasp and perused it. “Nothing at all to be concerned about! Jane says that Brighton is uncommonly flat for this time of year and she wishes there were some excitement – an elopement would suffice to revive the scene!”
“That must be what gave Lizzy the idea for this very amusing performance,” said Mr Gardiner. “And it has enlivened the company most successfully, but we must be off at once, my dears. Reverend Hammond awaits at the Lambton church and we would not want to disappoint the deserving soul.”
“In truth we must go,” said Lizzy, jumping to her feet. “Something must be done. My poor, poor Papa, and my dearest Jane – however will they cope with Mama?”
Mrs and Mrs Gardiner rushed Lizzy to their carriage, all the while disclaiming and cajoling her to behave. Darcy and Caroline followed in their wake; Bingley was not yet capable of walking and Georgiana was only too glad to see the backs of the unwanted visitors. She sat down, uttered a big sigh, and rang for fresh tea.
“I do hope you have been misinformed about your sister,” said Caroline kindly.
“Indeed, indeed it is all in jest,” said Mr Gardiner in as hearty tones as he could muster.
Darcy said nothing at all, but his eyes never left Lizzy’s face as he handed her up to the carriage. She, in turn, kept hers downcast, but her hand trembled in his and clung just a trifle stronger and longer than the conventions of society dictated.
“Did you ever hear such a bag of moonshine?” asked Georgiana as Darcy and Caroline returned to the drawing room. “Some people are not happy until they can bring the attention of all the room upon themselves.”
“I do believe Miss Bennet’s distress was real,” said Caroline.
“Coming from a family with such crass relations I have no doubt that one of her sisters has committed an indiscretion. From what I have just witnessed I can only surmise that they are all utterly common.”
“Miss Jane Bennet is an angel,” said Bingley, instantly rising to her defence.
“But you, Brother, must agree that every connection with these Bennets needs to be severed.”
Darcy had been staring into the fire. He turned and gave Georgiana a thoughtful glance. “Our attentions to them are now more important than ever.”
“But,” spluttered Georgiana, “you heard what Miss Bennet said. Her sister has run off with this Wickham fellow, whoever he may be. A lecherous wastrel, no doubt. My sensibilities are completely offended. Associating with any of that family would now be an unbearable degradation for me.”
“Mr Wickham is an engaging rogue,” said Caroline.
“Yes,” agreed Darcy. “I had once believed his lies myself. Small wonder that an innocent young lady has fallen victim to his wiles. He manufactures sincerity with great skill.”
“Innocent!” snorted Georgiana.
“Miss Darcy,” said Caroline. “It does not become you to pass judgement so readily. I think this gentleman could have charmed even you, given the right circumstances.”
“Your suggestion is preposterous! If it were not for the fact that my cousin is set to marry you, I would not put up with your insolence!”
“Georgiana!” said Darcy, his voice edged with anger. “Cannot you show a shred of human compassion?”
“Not to the undeserving.”
“You are lucky that Miss Bingley has so much forbearance and such a forgiving and happy nature. She is to be your companion for the next few weeks and I expect you to afford her the respect she deserves. Unfortunately I will not be at home. There is pressing business I must attend to in London.”
“But you have just dragged me here from London against my will!” cried Georgiana. “Now you are leaving me alone? What can be of more importance than attending to your only sister?”
“Attempting to save a family from ruin,” said Darcy, and he strode from the room.
Caroline watched him leave, a knowing smile spreading across her face. Finally the chink in Darcy’s armour had been breached. She was certain of it.
Elizabeth leaned back in the travelling coach, ignoring all her aunt and uncle’s admonitions. They had not stopped harping at her since leaving Pemberley. Now, after packing up all their belongings from the inn in Lambton and spending the night en-route to Brighton in some tawdry hostelry with damp sheets, they were entering the fair streets of that coastal resort. Her head was pounding. She had not slept a wink due to worrying about the fate of her poor sister. She, of all people, knew what Wickham was truly capable of.
“Oh Lizzy!” cried Mrs Bennet as the travellers entered the salon of their summer cottage. “Oh Brother! Oh Sister! You cannot imagine what a state we are all in. My poor husband prostrate with grief, my three other daughters milling around like lost little sheep, and only I to keep it all together! I am at the end of my tether! How on earth could she do this to us? How?”
“Do not fret, but tell us what is being done, Mama,” cried Lizzy.
“Done? Weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth – nothing more. Your father cannot get up from his bed – how is he to fight a duel with Wickham from under his covers, I ask you?”
Mr Gardiner quailed as his sister’s eyes rested upon him intently. “Why are you looking at me in that way, Sister?” he asked with some trepidation.
“I was just recalling how adept you were with a foil in your younger days,” she said.
“Have a heart!” cried Mrs Gardiner. “Think of our wee bairns.”
Lizzy almost choked. From where had her aunt suddenly developed that Scottish accent? “Mama!” she cried. “This is not something to be settled with a duel. They must be married or we will all have to live out our lives in shame and degradation. Can you imagine the gossip if Uncle Gardiner were to kill him?”
“Or be killed,” added Mr Gardiner, who had a rather more accurate estimation of his abilities in comparison to those of a stalwart soldier of the militia.
“One of my daughters marry a penniless knave like Wickham?” shrieked Mrs Bennet. “It is not to be borne!”
“It is the most we can hope for,” said Mrs Gardiner,” if we are to hush this scandal up. Your Lizzy has already attempted to let the cat completely out of the bag, but Mr Gardiner and I did our best to scotch that, did we not?”
“Yes, my dear. Due to your quick thinking we managed to save the day!”
“You followed my lead with amazing eloquence!”
“We are such a pair, my dearest Dumpling!”
“Can you two save the sheep’s eyes for when you are alone?” Mrs Bennet glared at them both. “That is all very well, and I am pleased you were able to make up for Lizzy’s foolish tongue wagging, but it still leaves us no closer to discovering what we are to do to punish the dastardly Wickham. Marriage to one of my daughters would be more of a reward than anything else.”
Lizzy saw no point in taking part in such a fruitless discussion. Instead she hastened to her father’s chamber. She was shocked that a man of his nature would have taken to his bed over the matter rather than acting upon it. Admittedly he was a trifle indolent, but he had raised all his daughters to be morally upstanding. Light flirting was tolerated but he had always impressed upon them the fragility of a woman’s virtue. She would have expected him to already be in London hunting her sister and Wickham down.
“Lizzy,” said her father as she peeked her head around the door, “come in quickly and shut that thing behind you. I have something to tell you that no one else should hear.”
“Papa!” Lizzy ran up to his bed and took his hands. She was shocked at the ashen cast to his skin and the tremor in his voice. He looked as if he had aged ten years since she had last seen him. “Are you ill?”
“No, my Lizzy,” he said with a wan smile. “It is my spirit that is worn down. I thought that in my own way I was a good father and now it has been brought home to me what a pitiful failure I truly am. If I have the silliest daughters in all of England, I have only myself to blame. And if one of my daughters has chosen to make her family the mockery of the polite world, who am I to judge her when I have formed her thus?”
“But Papa, it was Mr Wickham’s evil deed, not my sister’s. He is everything that is vile and reprehensible. Would that she could be saved from him, but they must be made to marry, though he is such a man.”
Mr Bennet struggled to sit up. He fumbled through a sheaf of papers on the table beside his bed and drew forth a letter, handing it to Lizzy. “Read this.”
Lizzy took the crumpled sheet and smoothed it. It was written in her sister’s round, schoolgirl hand.
I do not know that any of you shall laugh. I certainly cannot laugh myself when I think of how shocked you shall all be in the morning, as soon as I am missed. And do not suppose that I am going to Gretna Green. There is only money enough in my purse to carry us as far as London. You may think me a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world that I love, and the man I am leaving with tonight is not he. I can hardly write, my hand is shaking so with nervous apprehension. But if all goes as I have planned, my true love will follow after us and save me. I have no regrets about using Mr Wickham in this way – he is so filled with conceit and so ready to take advantage of any young lady to cross his path that he deserves the ridicule that will come to him. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping our engagement . . .
Lizzy looked up at her father, her mouth gaping. “But this means . . . this means . . .”
“Yes.” Her father sighed heavily. “The annoying truth is that Wickham did not run off with your sister. Your sister has abducted Wickham.”
Posted on Sunday, 12 February 2006
The very next morning the entire Bennet family left Brighton. Mr Bennet and the Gardiners made their way to London, while Mrs Bennet, supported by her remaining daughters, straggled home to Longbourn as unobtrusively as possible – no easy task with that lady wailing like a banshee in the confines of the travelling chaise.
At the same moment that both parties departed the seaside, Mr Darcy, who had only just arrived to London in the wee hours of the morning, walked out of the door of his townhouse and took a hackney to a much less favourable part of town. His plan was to enquire at inns to see if he could find news of the runaways. His problem was, not knowing which sister it was that Wickham had run off with, he could not give an accurate description of the lady to the hostellers.
It was true that all of Elizabeth’s younger sisters were of average height, with average coloured hair, and average looks, but their dispositions differed to quite a degree. One was loud and boisterous, one coughed, seemingly for her own amusement, and one kept her nose in a book of Gothic tales. He sighed. Darcy had to admit that he remembered very little about any of them, so unimpressed he was by their antics and attributes. In was only Elizabeth that was vivid in his mind. Maybe if they had all taken turns kissing him . . . no! That was a train of thought most inadvisable to follow.
At the first inn he was looked at rather oddly, at the second he noticed more than one post boy snicker behind his hand. At the third inn, the landlord broke out into loud guffaws.
“What is so blessed funny?” asked Darcy. “A lady’s honour is at stake!”
“Do you know how many couples of that description come by these inns daily?” asked the landlord when he finally caught his breath. “A rakish soldier and a boisterous young lady? Why, practically every coach that rolls into this yard, and the two of them often as not insisting they are brother and sister! And the number of concerned relatives with their discreet enquiries is staggering. But this is the first account I’ve heard with a possible cough – and the idea of either of an eloping pair reading a book, well it more than tickles me funny bone.”
Darcy glared at him. “This is no laughing matter! I have come upon this quest unsure of the exact identity of the lady I am intent upon saving.”
The landlord held his sides and shook. “Pardon me, Sir Galahad. If you were to throw in a squint, a limp, and a scar running down the gentleman’s face, I think I could oblige you this minute!”
Darcy turned away in disgust. It was not that he had never learned to be laughed at; Bingley’s sister had made him proficient at that skill. It was just that he realised how truly ridiculous his mission was. And all because he wanted to impress a lady. How singularly annoying. He ought indeed to have made sure which sister it was he was searching for. In his haste to leave the inn, he rammed into a man coming through the door, almost knocking him to the ground.
“I do beg your pardon,” said Darcy, automatically grabbing the fellow by the shoulders to steady him. “Why, you are in the militia!”
“Indeed,” said the officer.
“Was your regiment stationed at Meryton?”
“Before moving to Brighton, yes,” answered the man.
“I am on a mission of extreme delicacy,” said Darcy, “and it concerns a fellow officer of yours.”
The soldier looked at him warily. “I too.”
“And a lady?”
“What do you know of the case?”
“The soldier is Mr Wickham, and the lady one Miss . . .”
The officer’s face turned scarlet as his coat. “I will not have her name bandied about! I mean to ensure that her virtue is not compromised. Tell me all that you know and how you came by your information.”
“I was told in utmost confidence by the lady’s sister,” said Darcy, standing as tall as he could and staring down his nose at the soldier before him. It helped that he had spent his childhood with his cousin, the colonel, impersonating their aunt, Lady Catherine. He knew that he looked nothing if not daunting.
Unfortunately the officer, though a full six inches shorter than him, was undaunted. “And what proof do you have of this, sir?”
“What more proof do you need?” said Darcy. “I have pledged not to rest till I find the cur who has eloped with Elizabeth’s sister, and I intend to ensure their marriage to save the honour and respectability of the entire family.”
“I forbid you to do this!” shouted the officer.
“You forbid me to protect a lady’s honour?” cried Darcy, aghast.
“I forbid you to make them marry!” he cried. “I am her true love! I am the one she shall marry.”
“All the better,” said Darcy. “The last person in the world that Elizabeth wants for a brother is Wickham. If you see fit to work together on this with me, I will do all that I can to bring your marriage to Miss . . . Bennet about.” He held his hand towards the officer.
“Do not mention her name again,” hissed the man, “or that of her sister.” But in the end he reluctantly held his hand out. “Lieutenant Pratt.”
Darcy introduced himself as they shook hands. Now he not only had someone to assist him with the embarrassing inquiries, he was relatively certain that Pratt must know which of the sisters he was so thoroughly in love with.
They made enquiries at all the posting houses in that area of town and finally came upon one where the landlord was able to give them some hope.
“There was a young lady of that description, travelling with an officer,” he informed them, “but from what I could see she was in no particular danger from the cgentleman. My impression of the situation was quite the reverse.”
Pratt bristled. Darcy was glad that the Lieutenant was unarmed or there would have been a danger of him running someone through with his sabre before long.
“I assure you that the lady we speak of is in great danger!” he yelled. “Come Mr Darcy, this coxcomb shall waste no more of our time. It is obvious he is speaking of a different lady entirely.”
Darcy was not so sure. This was the first true lead they had got all morning and he intended to follow it up, Pratt or no Pratt. “Did the couple give any indication where they were headed?” he asked.
“That was what caused me to remember the lady, above all the rest that pass through in a soldier’s company,” said the landlord with a suggestive smirk that sent Pratt’s hand in the direction where his sword hilt would have been, if he had worn one. “She was very careful to let me know that they were not travelling beyond London, and asked if I could recommend a boarding-house. She then greased my palm and bid me reveal nothing, but her orders were belied by her broad wink.”
“Which boarding house?” asked Darcy.
Pratt was pacing about the taproom, looking as if he were about to explode at any moment.
“She was not too flush in the pocket, so the establishment I sent her to is not in the style she is no doubt accustomed to,” he responded. “Nothing compared to this quality place.”
Darcy decided that no matter who the lady was, if she had been directed to a residence of lower class than the one he was in at that moment, she was in dire need of saving, whether she wanted it or not. “Can you give me the direction with less preamble?” he asked.
“I promised the lady my silence.” The landlord grinned, showing a raft of chipped and yellowed teeth. “I am a man of my word and not a loose lipped gabster.”
That grin was something Darcy had no wish to see again, so when Pratt backed the landlord against the wall and threatened to loosen his lips, he did not cavil.
The landlord wisely decided that keeping what teeth he had intact was worth more than the few bob he had hoped to gain from the two gentry coves. “Do you know Saffron Hill in Holborn?”
“You sent a lady there?”
Darcy was quick to stay Pratt’s hand for fear that once he unleashed a blow the landlord would be unable to tell them the rest. “We know of it,” he said.
“Go to number nineteen, Younge Alley,” wheezed the landlord as Pratt’s hand tightened upon his throat.
“Put him down,” Darcy ordered Pratt, “and let us hasten from here. The air in this establishment is too vile to breathe.”
If Darcy thought the air in the inn vile, he soon discovered that it was pleasant compared to the stench in Younge Alley. He and Pratt eyed the soot-covered buildings with misgiving and then hesitantly made their way up the worn cobbles, dodging potholes, ragged children, and dingy laundry hanging across the narrow street. Number nineteen had a green door with flaking paint and warped boards. Darcy was just debating whether his gloves would survive contact with the door when Pratt pushed Dacy’s hand aside and thumped loudly with his fist.
A slatternly woman opened the door a crack, and Pratt shoved his foot through the gap before she could close it again.
“I’ve done nuffin’ wrong!” she wailed.
“Stand aside,” he ordered. “We are here to rescue the young lady.”
“Rescue?” She stared at him blankly. “I ain’t holdin’ nobody against her free will, I’m not!”
“Nobody is accusing you of anything, Miss,” said Darcy, wishing that Pratt were not such a hothead. “In what room will we find the young lady and the officer?”
“The door by the landing.” The woman gazed in awe at Darcy. No gentleman of such quality had ever been seen in Younge Alley, let alone entering her boarding house.
Pratt took the stairs two at a time and then, without bothering to knock or even try the door, rammed it open with his shoulder.
Darcy was up the staircase just in time to see a girl throw her arms about Pratt and cry exultantly, “My darling! I never gave up hope that you would save me from this nefarious rake!”
“Has he hurt you? If he has laid a finger on you I shall kill him. Just say the word.”
“Oh! You are so wonderful,” she gasped. “It would be fun to say that he had hurt me so you could prove your love even more, but I have managed to keep myself safe from his lecherous advances.”
As Darcy entered the room, he could well understand why Wickham had posed no threat to Miss Bennet’s maidenhood. He was tied to the bedpost with his own neck-cloth and a ladies’ spangled shawl was wrapped about his head, muffling his yells as he struggled on the floor at the end of the bed.
Pratt knelt at Miss Bennet’s feet. “How could I have allowed this to happen to you, my sweet? Say you forgive me for leaving you unprotected. I vow that I shall never leave your side again, that is, if you will have me.”
Her face was radiant. “Of course I will! You have proved yourself to be my saviour.”
“Darcy!” cried Pratt. “Will you not wish us joy?”
“Indeed,” said Darcy. “But first we must remove Miss Bennet from here without delay and take her to her uncle’s home in Cheapside.”
“Mr Darcy!” cried Miss Bennet. “Why ever did you bring Mr Darcy, Pratt? Who is he to us that he should be here ordering us about?”
“I am not sure what his connection is,” said Pratt. “He mentioned your sister Elizabeth, and a vow to find you. And he pledged to help us get married.”
“What has Lizzy to do with this?”
“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy in exasperation, “do you not realise that these actions of yours and Mr Wickham’s could have ruined the rest of your sisters in the eyes of society?’
“That is all stuff and nonsense!” she cried. “Society has such stupid rules! Why any man worth his salt would not treat a lady with scorn if he loved her, no matter how foolishly one of her sisters may have acted. You would do well to pay less attention to society, Mr Darcy, especially if you have any hopes to win my sister Lizzy’s hand.”
“I have no aspirations to her hand,” said Darcy. “I only acted to save her reputation and yours.”
“A young lady’s reputation ought not be considered as brittle as glass. As you see my reputation is unbroken and my dear Pratt loves me more than ever, and I him. This alarming adventure of mine has done us nothing but good!”
“If we do not get out of this godforsaken place at once I am afraid we shall be set upon by thieves and left for dead in the gutters, and the effluent running there would bring us to a quick end.”
Miss Bennet turned to Pratt. “Mr Darcy is dreadfully dull. I do feel sorry for Lizzy – she has not half as dashing a beau as I, for all that he is so very rich. I am much more pleased to be marrying you – what are jewels and fine carriages to love and adventure?”
“I am not Miss Elizabeth’s beau,” said Darcy through clenched teeth.
Miss Bennet giggled. “Methinks he doth protest too much.”
Pratt laughed back at her, completely lost in the warmth of her sparkling brown eyes.
As they headed for the door, Darcy looked back towards Wickham, who was struggling more fiercely than ever. “Are we just going to leave him there?” he asked.
“Well someone has to pay the shot,” said Miss Bennet with a toss of her head. “I think he deserves it, abducting me like that.”
Darcy looked from the capable young lady to the wriggling mass at the bedstead. He did not fully understand the how or the why of it, but he was quite certain that it was not Wickham who had done the abducting, not by a long shot. Still, he could not forget the letter Elizabeth had written with her expose of Wickham’s reprehensible character, and he decided that a little more time at number nineteen, Younge Alley, might do the scoundrel some good.
Downstairs again, he handed the slatternly woman a few coins before following Pratt and Miss Bennet out into the street. “For repair of the door,” he said. “And if you could keep the officer in your establishment for another day, the favour would be greatly appreciated. Some of his fellow soldiers should come by tomorrow to remove him.”
She took the money and curtsied low. He was such a fine and handsome gentleman and had spoken so politely, she would have captured the moon if he had asked her – this trifling request was a pleasure to fulfil.
Posted on Wednesday, 1 March 2006
“Mary!” cried Mrs Gardiner. “Why, you naughty puss! Frightening us so with your little games. I’m sure you gave Mr Darcy the wrong idea! And Lieutenant Pratt! So pleased to see you – but where is Mr Wickham who so politely escorted Mary to London? I was hoping to be able to thank the young scamp in person.”
“Escorted me!” cried Mary as she hugged her aunt and brushed past her and into the Gardiner’s gaudy townhouse. “You know it was no such thing! He abducted me in a most nefarious manner and my dearest Pratt rescued me. Why Mr Darcy is here I cannot fathom at all – I think it has something to do with his undying regard for Lizzy or some such high-flying noble sentiment.”
“But Mr Wickham must be made marry you!” cried Mrs Gardiner. “Mr Darcy knows you were in the gentleman’s company for longer than would be considered proper! He will not offer for Lizzy if you do not marry!”
“I shall marry,” said Mary, a smirk upon her face. “But I shan’t marry Mr Wickham!”
Mrs Gardiner looked from Mary to Mr Darcy and back again. Then she squealed. “But this is better and better! You are to marry Mr Darcy! Lizzy had her chance to trap him and did not take it – you have certainly been ahead of the game, Mary. Your mother will be so proud!”
All during this effusion Pratt was standing, clenching and unclenching his hands, his face growing redder and redder. “I have never heard anything more outrageous!” he finally ejaculated. “She will not marry Mr Darcy.”
“No, of course not,” cried Darcy and Mary in unison.
“Mr Darcy! This is most ungracious of you,” wailed Mrs Gardiner. “You are responsible for the ruination of my niece!”
Mr Darcy was having trouble with Mrs Gardiner’s logic, and was about to insist upon his innocence and wonder how his good intentions could have gone so terribly awry, when the door to the salon opened and Mr Gardiner peered out.
“This is not a matter to settle in the hallways,” he said. “The gentleman must come in here and face the girl’s father.”
Pratt started forward, his anger evident upon his face, but Darcy put his hand on his arm to restrain him. “I think Mr Bennet will be brought to see reason if we stay levelheaded,” he whispered. “What the aunt and uncle think is really immaterial.”
“That is easy for you to say,” hissed Pratt. “You are not having your true love given to someone else out from under your nose!”
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Darcy responded. “I have no desire to marry this particular Miss Bennet, and I will do everything within my power to ensure that you, and not me, are made her husband.”
Mary tittered and winked at Darcy, causing him to blush. “No disrespect, Miss Bennet,” Darcy almost stammered, “I just do not think we would suit.”
“Nor do I,” she said. “And in any case, if you were to marry me, who would be left to marry Lizzy? I should not wish that particular fate upon my darling Pratt.”
“I am certain that your sister will have any number of suitors, no matter who you marry,” said Darcy.
Mary gave him a superior smile and then rushed into the parlour, and threw herself at her father’s feet. “I have been rescued, Papa,” she cried dramatically. “You must allow me to marry Lieutenant Pratt for he is the one who came to my aide with no thought to his own personal danger. I refuse to marry either Mr Wickham or Mr Darcy no matter what anyone says!”
“My goodness,” said Mr Bennet. “I had no idea there were so many gentlemen aspiring to your hand. In fact, I was under the impression it was you who abducted unfortunate Mr Wickham. The only way for this situation to be rectified is for you to marry the man purportedly responsible for your social downfall.”
“You cannot mean that, Papa!” she cried. “I am most sincerely devoted to Pratt and he to me – besides he has already proposed and I have accepted.”
“Well, you foolish girl, you should have thought of that before you ran off from a public place in the company of a different officer. Even your sister Lydia would not have made such a terrible mull of this as you have done.”
“Lydia has not the brains nor foresight to concoct such an elaborate plan as mine,” said Mary.
“Nor has she read as many off-colour novels as you,” responded her father. “Go upstairs and contemplate what your future will be, shackled to a man you have no love or respect for. If you have troubles imagining such a scenario, just cast your mind over your parents’ marriage. That should be enough to put the fear of God into you. And if you desire reading materials, take Fordyce up with you. In fact – you are to read nothing but Fordyce for the next ten years.”
“Papa, you are too cruel!” sobbed Mary.
“Do not fret, Mary. If after that time your behaviour has improved, I will supply you with a moralizing novel or two. Now be off with you so that I may interview these gentlemen and make my final decision about whom you should marry.”
Mary reluctantly left the room. The Gardiners showed every indication of meaning to stay, but Mr Bennet looked at them pointedly and raised his eyebrows. “I have a delicate matter to discuss and require privacy with these gentlemen,” he said.
“Oh, but we know all, brother, and can provide valuable advice to you,” said Mrs Gardiner.
“And I can furnish the extra support you might need to convince the gentleman of his duty,” said Mr Gardiner, giving Darcy a meaningful glance and making as if to roll up his shirtsleeves.
“I know you both mean well,” said Mr Bennet, “but nevertheless, this is an interview and a decision that I intend to make on my own.” He stared at his relatives unflinchingly until they both got up from their chairs and left the room. “And no listening at the keyhole!”
“Mr Bennet,” said Pratt, surging forward, unable to wait another moment. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently . . .”
“Please, spare me your histrionics!” said Mr Bennet, throwing his hands up in the air. “I thought I had got rid of all the amateur thespians in the room. Won’t you both sit and have a brandy with me?”
Darcy grabbed Pratt’s arm and pulled him down upon the settee. Mr Bennet smirked at them both as he poured the brandy from a rather overly ornate crystal decanter. As he passed the glasses to the other two men, he said, “I fully understand why you are here, Lieutenant Pratt, but I am at a loss as to your involvement in the case, Mr Darcy.”
“Your daughter, Miss Elizabeth, was so distressed by the news of her sister’s . . . elopement, that I sought to discover the runaways before any untoward damage was done.”
“Indeed. And what made you think that Pratt was not capable of the job?”
“I had no idea of his existence, sir!”
“Nor did any of us, it seems,” said Mr Bennet with a sigh. “I do hope you can keep an impressionable girl like my Mary in line.”
“Me, sir?” asked Darcy, his face draining of colour.
“You? You do not want to marry my Mary too do you, Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet looked as if he were enjoying himself immensely.
“Not at all . . . not that she isn’t a lovely girl, but I could never stand in the way of true love.”
“No, of course not,” said Mr Bennet. “Besides, I rather think my Lizzy would suit you better.”
“I have no intentions . . . I am not here to ask for the hand of any of your daughters, sir.”
“No? All that I have heard indicates otherwise. However we need not despair – there will be plenty of time for that at a later date. I am entirely at your leisure.”
“Sir!” said Pratt, “But what about Wickham? You told Ma – er – Miss Bennet that she must marry him.”
“Relax and drink your brandy,” said Mr Bennet. “After the torment she has put us all through, I thought she deserved to suffer a little anxiety herself. Of course you have my blessing – the thought of Wickham as a son in law is utterly repellent.” He leaned back and relaxed in his chair, savouring his drink. One gentleman hooked, and one nibbling at the lure. His wife would be pleased!
The next morning, Darcy went to the militia offices in London and requested two soldiers to accompany him to Younge Street. He realised that he need not go with them but he had a strong desire to see Wickham apprehended for dereliction of duty. And on top of that he wanted to ensure that the reprobate said nothing defamatory about Miss Bennet to his arresting officers.
The slatternly woman opened the door of number nineteen and smiled seductively at Darcy. “He’s in the room just as you left him,” she said. “Though I admit that we did have some sport with him last night.”
Darcy nodded his thanks and then turned to the soldiers who had accompanied him. “If you would give me a few moments alone with Wickham, I will call you up when I need you.”
They assented and followed the woman to her lower parlour. She appeared very pleased with the turn of events – neither of them compared to the toff, but she knew she hadn’t a chance with him from the outset.
Darcy climbed the stairs and pushed the broken door open. Wickham had risen to his knees at the sound.
“For the love of God release me!” he cried. “You will not get away with this! I have friends in high places.”
Darcy unwound the spangled shawl from Wickham’s face. “You do?” he asked. “I should be pleased to know whom they may be.”
“Mr Darcy!” cried Wickham. “Thank the Lord! You have no idea how I have been used and abused.”
“I should say that you have come by your just desserts, then,” said Darcy.
“You have been misled. Mary Bennet took me from Brighton against my will.”
“I sincerely doubt that. I believe you went with her willingly. But your intent and hers seems to have differed drastically.”
“Insanity runs in her family – they are all out to ruin me in the eyes of the world.”
“I wonder why you are so intent upon casting aspersions against that family – especially one member of it. My eyes have been opened to you, Wickham. I know of all your past dealings with Miss Bennet and I can assure you that whatever friends you have in high places, I have friends in higher. Not one word against any member of the Bennet family will pass your lips again, or your life will not be worth living. If you tell anybody how you came to be here, you shall find yourself deported to the colonies faster than you can spit. Do you understand me?”
“Perfectly,” said Wickham. “Lizzy Bennet has enchanted you with her manifest charms. I wish you very happy.”
“Why cannot a gentleman perform a worthy task without everyone assuming that he is about to propose? Do you know what was my prime motivation for tracking you down? Miss Mary Bennet’s reputation? Miss Elizabeth’s concern for her family? No! It was the disgust at knowing that I had allowed a snivelling snake like you to influence my judgement. I am thoroughly ashamed that I let myself be taken in by you so easily, and I could not live with myself until I had seen you brought to justice. I have my pride, Wickham, and do not forget it!”
With that Darcy strode from the room, leaving Wickham still tied to the bedpost. He went downstairs and into the sleazy parlour where the woman was entertaining the officers with tankards of ale and tumblers of blue ruin.
“He is all yours,” Darcy said. As the soldiers made to get up, he added, “No need to rush – your prisoner isn’t going anywhere. Enjoy your morning.”
With that he excused himself and went out into the street. He needed to walk a few blocks before he was able to take in any deep breaths. ‘Home to bathe,’ he thought, ‘and then tomorrow back to Pemberley and sanity.’
Posted on Friday, 17 March 2006
Lizzy sat back in her bed and reflected upon how truly annoying her family really was. The evening had been pure torture. Mary and her new husband, Pratt, had returned from London, their marriage having taken place in short order. While she was happy that Mary had found true love and happiness, Lizzy was having difficulty forgiving her for the method in which she had achieved it. But more than that was the innuendo about herself and Mr Darcy that was part of any and all conversation.
How little they all knew! Lizzy had kept her embarrassing misunderstanding with Mr Darcy even from Jane, but she had in no way forgotten his reaction that evening nor his disgust at the idea of ever being paired with her. The suggestion that he was now about to propose to her was ludicrous.
While at Pemberley, and under the influence of Miss Bingley’s persuasive plotting, Lizzy had almost thought that she and Mr Darcy could one day be able to meet as common and indifferent acquaintances – possibly even friends. But anything beyond that she had known to be impossible. And now, now that he knew just how silly and shallow her family truly was, from her sisters all the way to her outlandish aunt and uncle, he would be more apt to follow his sister’s example and have nothing at all to do with them ever again.
She could hardly blame him. Even she had shown herself in a very bad light – exhibiting herself in a wet gown one day and then indulging in hysterics the next. Had he been attracted to her, which he had made quite clear was never the case, her unseemly behaviour would have nipped any tender feelings in the bud.
But through all of this he had shown himself to be nothing but kindness and consideration, so far removed from the unfeeling fashion follower she had always held him to be that she could not think of her former opinion of him but to blush and blush again. That he had taken it upon himself to scour the rudest districts of London to find her sister and preserve the honour of the entire family spoke of genuine, disinterested goodness.
Her family, in their usual way of jumping to unsubstantiated conclusions, had decided that he had done it for her. That he was head over ears in love! That they should any day see him riding up to their doorstep begging for the privilege of marrying her. Lizzy picked up a book and tossed it across the room. It was not to be borne, to be subjected to such humiliation day in and day out. He did not want her. And she was beginning to think she no longer wanted him, either. She was verily sick of his name. Lizzy clutched at her pillow and collapsed into sobs.
“Oh la!” cried Lydia, as she peered between the curtains. “Here comes Lizzy’s beau now!”
Lizzy sat as if frozen, her embroidery needle had embedded itself in her finger at her sister’s exclamation, but she was cognizant neither of the pain nor the droplets of blood that were ruining her sampler.
Kitty jumped up from her chair and joined Lydia at the window. “You are in need of spectacles! That is not Mr Darcy. I believe it is his friend. You know – the shy one who rented Netherfield Hall and broke Jane’s heart with his indifference.”
Lydia scrunched her face up and leaned forward. “So it is! How very silly of me! Oh, let us have some fun with him Kitty, for there is little sport to be had here with the militia stuck in Brighton.”
The two sisters grabbed their bonnets and ran from the room amid an outbreak of giggles. Mrs Bennet smiled complacently and wished them luck in their endeavour. Jane’s face was overspread with a deep blush. The look she gave Lizzy was filled with alarm and dismay. Lizzy was suddenly pressingly aware that her finger hurt like the dickens.
“I cannot see him!” hissed Jane. “Help me to escape upstairs.”
“Stay put,” said Lizzy. “All will be well.”
“But I want nothing of such a philanderer!” cried Jane. “You said yourself he was only playing with my heart. Well, if it is hearts he wants to play with, he is welcome to those of Kitty and Lydia!”
“But . . . I was wrong!” cried Lizzy desperately.
“Oh hush, both of you!” cried Mrs Bennet, and she craned her neck to see out the window to where Kitty and Lydia had ambushed Mr Bingley near the doorstep. “Your sisters are doing admirably. What does it matter which of you wins him, if the catch is brought in? Jane had her chance and lost it so the gentleman is fair game.”
“Mr Bingley means nothing to me!” cried Jane, as she ran from the room.
“You see, Lizzy?” said Mrs Bennet. “Jane wants nothing of him, as I had always expected. Mr Collins would have been perfect for her, but no – you had to introduce him to that conniving Charlotte Lucas!”
Lizzy opened her mouth to defend herself, but then realised it was just a waste of time. Meanwhile the door opened and a bemused Mr Bingley appeared, Lydia and Kitty pulling eagerly on both his arms.
“Miss Elizabeth!” he said. “Mrs Bennet! So very nice to see you again.” He allowed himself to be squished between the two youngest miss Bennets upon a settee and then looked about the room. “Are not all your daughters home?”
“One is lately married and settled at Purvis Lodge, though I have very serious concerns about the state of the attics,” said Mrs Bennet. “But you seem to be getting along charmingly with these two.”
“Married?” his face paled.
“It is my sister Mary who is married,” said Lizzy.
“Indeed, and it was announced so very ill!” cried Mrs Bennet. “No mention was made of the lace on her gown, not the fact that Mr Darcy stood groomsman.”
“Mr Darcy?” asked Bingley.
“Your friend!” cried Lydia. “Surely you have not forgotten him? He will soon be offering for our Lizzy – and that should throw us more often into the paths of other rich men.”
“Such as yourself!” giggled Kitty.
“I was unaware,” said Bingley. “You must accept my congratulations, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Indeed,” said Lizzy. “There is no reason for congratulation. My sisters are talking nonsense.”
“Lizzy – your modesty is not as refreshing as you think it,” said her mother, “and quite unnecessary in the company of such a good friend as Mr Bingley, for he must be well aware how lost in love his poor friend Mr Darcy is. Such a romance, do you not agree, Mr Bingley? Your friend running off to London like that to save our Mary and all because our dear Lizzy’s heart was breaking. Young lovers!” she sighed and dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.
Bingley looked slightly dazed and more than a tad confused. “Have you been talking to my sister?” he asked at last.
Kitty and Lydia laughed uproariously.
“You are such a wit!” cried Mrs Bennet. “Now tell us, young man, has your friend come to Netherfield with you? When should we expect him? I must tell cook to prepare all his favourite dishes, and yours too, of course. Do you like fish?”
“Mr Darcy is not with me,” said Bingley, glancing apologetically towards Lizzy. “But I did come here upon his recommendation. He assured me . . . and I had hoped . . . but . . . is not your other sister at home?”
“Jane is in her room, indisposed,” said Lizzy.
“Indisposed?” he asked, his face falling.
“Do not mind Jane!” cried Mrs Bennet. “She has quite lost her bloom – we have all been mistaken in her. I thought her beauty would be more lasting than that. But now it is nothing to the fresh, youthful vitality of Kitty and Lydia. Are they not the most delightful girls imaginable? Complexions unmarred by disappointments! Minds unspoiled by booklearning! You could not do better than to choose one of the two, though I admit the choice will not be an easy one.” Both girls primped and posed as she beamed upon them in admiration.
Bingley looked from one to the other, his expression evincing his growing desperation. “Quite. And happy will be the gentleman who manages to win them, but . . . Miss Elizabeth, what did you mean by indisposed?”
“No more than a slight headache,” she said reassuringly. “Nothing that a walk in the rose garden at about two o’clock this afternoon might not cure.”
“Indeed,” he said, brightening.
Lydia did not like the conversation reverting from herself and Kitty. Well, to tell the truth she did not mind it excluding Kitty all that much. But that they should speak of Jane who was clearly destined for the shelf was outside of enough. “I would do my best to make you happy,” Mr Bingley,” she purred, running her hands down his lapels. “You do want to be happy, do you not?”
He gulped. “Happiness is my whole reason for coming here.”
Lydia smiled complacently and stroked his lapels yet again.
Kitty crossed her arms and pouted. It was so unfair! Lydia always won. Not for the first time she wished she could act with the same wild abandon as her sister. But it never failed – as soon as she attempted to outdo Lydia she would feel that familiar tickling in her throat. Kitty kept her lips pressed tightly together and hoped at least that she could prevent herself from breaking out into a fit of coughing.
“Trout?” asked Mrs Bennet, still on a track all her own, “or haddock? Or what say you to eels? Cook has a way with eels that is uncommonly tasty. The secret is a mushroom sauce – chanterelles, not boletus, which have a much coarser, unrefined flavour. You will be dining with us tonight, of course?”
“I thank you for the invitation,” said Bingley. “I have a few more visits I am obliged to make in the neighbourhood today, but I will return in due course.” He stood, finally extricating himself from the clutches of Lydia, and took his leave quickly, with a meaningful glance at Lizzy as he departed the room.
“I do think that went very well indeed,” said Mrs Bennet, smiling indulgently upon Lydia. “You may be the youngest, my dear, but you certainly are in no way behindhand in the fine art of captivation. Jane could do well to take lessons from you. My brother Phillips has a clerk who I have been thinking might be convinced to take her, despite how haggard and pale she now looks.”
Lydia sat and smirked while Kitty finally gave in and broke into a fit of hacking so profound no one could have thought she did it only for her own amusement.
At precisely two o’clock, Bingley crept into the Bennet’s rose garden. He fervently hoped that he had not misunderstood Miss Elizabeth when she had assured him her sister would be walking there for her health. He had been very careful not to be seen. Though he had once thought fending Miss Lydia off in the lane to be amusing, he could now see that giving her such an opportunity again would be his undoing. There was only one Miss Bennet he was interested in, and Lydia was not she.
Finally he spied Jane. She was sitting under an arbour overspread with trailing white roses. The blooms unleashed gentle fragrance into the warm summer air. Her gown was pale green and she blended in the dappled shade with the leaves and blossoms – more faerie now than angel.
As he tiptoed closer he noticed that she had changed. She was thin to a point of frailty – her skin pale like alabaster and pulled taut over the fine bones of her face. That she had recently gone through suffering was evident. Could it be Darcy was right? Had she cared for him all along? Was it truly only the interference of her sister that had separated them?
At least he knew Miss Elizabeth would no longer attempt to part them. Had she not ensured that this meeting took place? Unless . . . unless he was about to be rejected. He stopped, afraid to continue if the result of the encounter was to be the loss of all his dreams.
A moment later he had changed his mind again. What was the adage? Better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all? That wasn’t it! It was simply that here he was in her garden and he would feel completely silly if he were seen skulking out without having even attempted to speak with her.
“Miss Bennet?” he called out.
She looked up, her eyes big and dark in her wan face. “Mr Bingley!”
“May I sit with you?”
“I do not know. Will I be safe?”
The unaccustomed harshness in her expression and bitterness in her voice surprised him. “You were always safe with me,” he said, as he sat on the edge of the bench. “And you always will be.”
“Did you enjoy your time with my sisters this morning?” Jane continued. “I believe I am soon to wish you and Lydia happy.”
“Never.”
“So, you are just enjoying yourself at their expense as you did with me?”
“I did not enjoy myself with you . . . that is, I mean to say, I did enjoy myself with you, but . . . not at your expense.”
“Then why was I the one to pay the price?” A tear slipped down Jane’s cheek.
Bingley was immediately on his knees by her side, grasping her hands in his. “It was all a misunderstanding. I thought – I thought you did not love me. My sister invited you to London, and you refused to come. She wrote to you, and you did not answer her letters. I discovered that you were in London for months without even seeking me out. I visited your aunt’s home only to be told you had no wish to see me. If anyone should be accusing the other of playing with hearts, it should be me – but Darcy told me . . .”
Jane stiffened and tried to pull her hands away. “He told you what? He knows nothing of the matter. How can he? And yet, he has recently shown a tendency to meddle in my family’s affairs.”
“When your sister was in Kent, so too was Mr Darcy. Did she not tell you?”
“My sister has many secrets, it would seem.”
“He . . . accused her of standing in the way of our love.”
“My sister?”
“Did she not advise you against me?”
“She told me that your intent was only to make a conquest and discard me.”
“And you believed her? I came to you with my heart in my hands. Could you not have trusted in me?”
“I wanted to, but she was so certain. I know nothing of the world and the ways of men.”
“All men are not the same.”
“No,” said Jane, and sighed. “I feel such a fool. I wish I could think the best of people, but sometimes I have such a suspicious mind.”
“I promise never to give you any cause to suspect me.”
“A promise you shall find hard to keep with my sister Lydia about. So – what more did Mr Darcy tell you?”
Bingley thought back to that complicated and confusing talk with Darcy. Something to do with Elizabeth Bennet kissing him ardently and unabashedly. That, he decided, he ought not repeat to Jane Bennet. “He told me that you love me and sent me to the house in Gracechurch Street, where I was rebuffed.”
“That was my aunt’s doing, not mine!” cried Jane. “I missed you so much by that time I would have fallen at your feet at the sight of you.”
“And yet today . . .”
“I’d had more time to think – to give you up. I saw a sister happily married and no prospect for myself. When I heard you had come and my youngest sisters ran out to tempt you, I wanted no part of the contest.”
“There was never any contest – my heart has been yours from the moment of our first meeting.”
Jane smiled shyly and averted her eyes. “So, were you going to ask me anything particular today, or did you only come to the garden to seduce me?”
Bingley brought both her hands to his lips. “If you promise to be my wife,” he whispered, “I shall have a lifetime in which to seduce you. Why should I settle for one afternoon in your parents’ rose garden?”
“If that is the case,” said Jane, a new light shining in her eyes, “I do not think I have any objection to seduction, in fact, I find that I am quite looking forward to it.”
Bingley sat up on the bench beside her and pulled her into his arms. He ran one hand down her back as he brought his lips close to hers.
Jane put her hand out and stayed his mouth with her fingers. “After we are married, of course,” she whispered coyly, and wriggled to her feet. “Come, I believe now is the time to speak with my father.”
Bingley attempted to pull himself together as they walked hand in hand to the library door, all the time thinking how best he could convince her father that a special licence and speedy wedding were in order. He was later to discover that the father was not going to be his major obstacle, but the mother and her insistence on all the pomp and pageantry that had been missing from Mary’s runaway marriage.
Posted on Wednesday, 5 July 2006
Bingley found his days of courtship hampered by one annoying flaw, if truth be told. No one in the Bennet household, with the exception of Elizabeth, could converse with him without asking about the whereabouts of his friend, and if he knew when that gentleman was to arrive upon his white steed and whisk Lizzy away. He went so far as to write Darcy and insist that he come and make his intentions known, just so that he wouldn’t have to invent a new evasive response every day. Bingley was by no means deficient, but he didn’t have the knack for prevarication.
Lizzy truly found the situation much more than annoying. Her denials always fell on empty ears. It was getting so that she was sick of the sound of Mr Darcy’s name, and was positive she would have nothing at all to do with him if he indeed did come to Netherfield, which, of course, she was certain he would never do. After all, though he was incredibly hospitable and considerate on both occasions that she had visited Pemberley, he had made his feelings abundantly clear at Hunsford. The idea of him proposing to her now was as preposterous as it was unlikely.
It was true that he had involved himself in the search for Mary, ensured that she and Pratt were married without hint of scandal, and dealt summarily with Wickham. But it was ludicrous to believe he had done it for her. He was obviously a philanthropist of sorts. According to Charlotte, his cousin had said that he could not bear injustice. He had danced with Lizzy at Lady Catherine’s ball simply because she had been slighted by all the other gentlemen in the room. But this time he had carried his crusading spirit a bit too far. Could he not have at least done his meddling in secret and saved her from all the speculation and rumour?
Every morning Lizzy absented herself from the house as soon as she was able and spent the majority of her day hiding out in lanes and shrubberies and feeling decidedly sorry for herself. She was unsure which she dreaded most – that Mr Darcy should come as all of Hertfordshire anticipated, or that he would send his excuses via his friend. She only knew that she did not want to be at home if either event occurred.
However, when Lydia and Kitty came hallooing down the laneways in search of her it was not with news of Mr Darcy at all, but rather, his aunt.
“She is so assured of her own consequence,” giggled Lydia. “I was almost exploding from holding back my laughter, for every time she spoke I was reminded of our cousin Collins prancing about with my shawl, imitating her.”
Kitty nodded excitedly. “She said to Mama, ‘I suppose you are the mother,’ in such a cold way and then stared at Lydia and me and added, ‘and these the sisters,’ as if we were pond scum. Then she said that our sitting room was inconvenient.”
“Mama was beside herself!” cried Lydia. “Stuttering about Mary being lately married and how we never sit in that room after dinner.” She burst into giggles. “As you know full well we sit in no other room after dinner!”
“But what is Lady Catherine doing here?” asked Lizzy when she could finally get a word in edgewise.
“Come to visit you, of course,” said Kitty.
“I imagine she wants to wish you well in your upcoming marriage to her nephew!” Lydia smirked.
“I am not engaged to her nephew, and if I were, Lady Catherine is the last person on earth who would wish me well.”
“In any event she is here,” said Lydia, “and you must come quickly for she desires to speak with no one but you, and will brook no opposition.”
“She is awaiting you in the garden,” said Kitty. “Or should I say the prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of our lawn.”
“Heaven forbid!” cried Elizabeth. “I do not want to see her.”
“From the looks of Lady Catherine,” said Lydia, “I don’t think she cares a jot if you do.”
“Hurry before Mama throws another fit!” cried Kitty. “She is already vexed enough that you were nowhere to be found in the house.”
Elizabeth turned and walked towards their home without another word, but with each step her fury mounted. She did not want any part of an interview with Lady Catherine – nothing good could possibly come from it.
She arrived at the garden to find Lady Catherine impatiently pacing back and forth.
“You must be at a great loss to understand the reason of my journey hither. I wonder at it myself, but I can leave no good deed undone – it is the humanitarian in me. When your cousin discovered that I meant to travel this way, he gave me a letter from his wife for you. After all my consideration it is really insupportable that you have kept me waiting for so long.”
“Would it not have been possible to leave the letter with my family?” asked Lizzy.
“Obstinate, headstrong gel! Do you think I would trust such a missive to the riffraff I exposed myself to in your home? I was asked to give it to you and give it to you I shall.”
Lizzy took the proffered letter, too livid to speak. How dare the lady refer to her family in such a manner?
“I am pleased, at least, to have seen the estate which my parson is to inherit. With a bit of care on his part it could be turned into a suitable establishment, as long as your father does not linger too long and deplete the resources.”
“My father!” cried Lizzy. “You dare wish for his untimely death? And say as much to me?”
“You cannot expect me to applaud the fact that he has so many unmarried daughters ill provided for. While I feel your hardship, I would not want funds that could increase Mr Collins’ wealth to be funnelled into the prolonged upkeep of a brood of spinsters.”
“I have one sister newly married and another engaged, but that is hardly your concern. Please importune me no further on the subject. You have insulted my family in every possible method. I must beg to return to the house.”
“You have no regard, then, for the financial stability of your cousin? Unfeeling, selfish gel! It is no wonder you will never be married and will live in disgrace in the eyes of the world when your father is gone.”
“Whether or not I marry is my own business – as is whom I marry. I resolve to act in a manner which will constitute my happiness without reference to my cousin or you, or to any other person so wholly unconnected to me.”
“With your attitude, your ambition to marry will never be gratified, for who would have you? I wasted my time on you when you were in Kent and I can see I have wasted my time once more by selflessly delivering that letter to you. Do not expect such considerations from me ever again. I take no leave of you – you deserve no such attention.”
Lizzy made no answer. She walked quietly into her house though there were many things she would have liked to say to the harpy.
“Why did Lady Catherine not come in again and rest herself?” asked Mrs Bennet as soon as Lizzy entered the parlour.
“She did not choose it.”
“And what news did she bring of her nephew? Is Mr Darcy to visit us soon? I must see cook about some fish if he is to dine with us.”
“She did not mention Mr Darcy at all - she only came by to deliver this,” said Lizzy, indicating the letter she held tightly in her hand.
“A love note!” cried Mrs Bennet ecstatically. “How daring of Mr Darcy! But lovers will throw propriety to the winds!”
“It is from Charlotte.”
“Charlotte indeed,” said Mrs Bennet, winking. “You may say what you like, but you cannot fool me.”
Lizzy chose not to argue – what would be the point? Instead she fled to her room to read the letter. It was full of congratulations for Mary and Jane and many suggestive comments about Lizzy and Darcy.
Mind you, though my darling C and I are thrilled with the turn of events, do not expect even a mention from Lady Catherine, congratulatory or otherwise. She acts as if your name has never been linked with Mr Darcy’s and continues to plan for the day when he and Anne will wed.
Lizzy threw herself upon her bed and contemplated ending her own existence. She did not know which was worse – everyone’s distorted expectations for herself and Mr Darcy or Lady Catherine’s offensive behaviour. One thing was certain – if Darcy did have the least little inclination towards her, Lady Catherine would be sure to nip it in the bud.
When Darcy was apprised that Lady Catherine was in the drawing room waiting to see him, he turned to Bingley and said, “My aunt? How did she know to find me here? Even I was not sure I would come. I only came to set your mind at ease and to escape my sister and yours.”
“Escape Georgiana and Caroline? Why?”
“To get out from the frying pan and into the fire, I expect.”
Bingley looked aggrieved. “I don’t like cryptic answers.”
“All I have heard from my charming sister since my return from London is how my marriage to Elizabeth Bennet would pollute the shades of Pemberley. It doesn’t matter that I have no intention whatsoever to marry the girl. And your sister is worse, insisting that I am lost in love and will soon not be able to help but propose. I expect I will hear much the same from you – with this entire neighbourhood daily expecting my declaration – and now my aunt has come to throw the family ghosts at my head, to try and make me rescind my supposed engagement to Miss Bennet. It makes me want to escape to some secluded mountaintop and live out my life as a hermit.”
“If that is your aim, you may do so, but not before you see your aunt. You could not be so cruel a friend as to leave her to me.”
Darcy threw his hands up in the air in resignation. “That would be the act of a coward,” he said. “Wish me well – after all what is the worst that could happen?”
Bingley sat and pondered the question for a full two minutes before he realised it was rhetorical. By that time Darcy was already in the lion’s den, so the outcome was a moot point anyway.
“Your friend’s servants take an exceedingly long time delivering messages,” said Lady Catherine. “I am not accustomed to being left waiting, and yet I have been accorded the inconsideration twice this day.”
“Twice here at Netherfield?” asked Darcy. “I do apologise. I have no idea what brought about the first wait, but the second was entirely my own doing.”
Lady Catherine snorted. “Take the blame for the second if it gives you pleasure, but the first was not here and Miss Elizabeth Bennet was fully culpable.”
“You have been to see her?” Darcy said in alarm. “You did not harangue her about our supposed engagement, did you?”
“Do you take me for a complete ninny? Why would I give the least bit of credence to false reports of that nature when I know you to be engaged to Anne? No, out of the kindness of my heart, I was delivering a letter from Mrs Collins. It is insufferable how rudely I was treated for that bit of condescension. You can be sure it is the last time I ever perform a favour in her regard. And I told Miss Elizabeth as much! To think I put such a great deal of effort into finding her a husband. The girl is eaten up with pride!”
Darcy sighed. “If Miss Bennet did indeed treat you with incivility, which I doubt, I am certain it was not undeserved.”
“You are certain!” Lady Catherine’s face turned puce – veins bulged in her neck. “Certain! How dare you take the part of an impertinent shrew of a country nobody over mine, and I one of your nearest relations? You take an eager interest in that lady.”
“Is this what you came to Netherfield for?” asked Darcy. “To belittle a young lady who isn’t even present? You have wasted a deal of time over such a fruitless endeavour, aunt. I do not know how it is that you knew to visit me here, but if you do not intend to make the call a pleasant one, you may as well return to Kent immediately.”
“My coming here has nothing to do with Miss Bennet,” said Lady Catherine, “Though your sister thought my presence necessary to save you from disaster. She erroneously believes you to be caught in that girl’s coils. I know better. My purpose in coming was only to finalise some of the details of your forthcoming nuptials with my daughter. Once the wedding announcement is in the paper the Bennets will see that all their plans of entrapment were for naught. I thought you would be pleased to put an end to such unsavoury rumours.”
“I am not marrying Anne,” said Darcy firmly. “I never agreed to the engagement, as you well know, nor have I had any part in encouraging you and Anne to make such plans.”
“But your mother and I arranged it all whilst you and Anne were still in your cradles. Would you go against your mother’s dying wishes? This is not to be borne!”
“Nor should I be expected to bear a marriage I have no inclination for!”
“You cannot mean. . .” Lady Catherine choked on the unutterable words.
“I assure you aunt, I have no plans to marry anybody, and I wish that all and sundry would desist in pushing me towards the altar.”
At that moment a great deal of noise was heard from the passageway, and the drawing room doors burst open. The butler looked apologetically at Darcy as his sister and Caroline Bingley rushed into the room.
“She would come, though I tried my best to stop her!” cried Caroline.
“You are not my warder,” snapped Georgina. “I have the right to ensure that my brother does not let temptation override his familial duty!” She looked to Darcy. “Please assure me that I am not too late! That you have not pledged your life and estate to that . . . that scheming baggage!”
Darcy looked coldly at both of them. “I have not even gone so far as to pledge my heart,” he said. “Which ought to be more to the point! Nor shall I,” he added, erasing Caroline’s smirk.
Georgiana smiled triumphantly. “See! He has not allowed her physical endowments to addle his senses! It is as I told you, Miss Bingley. My brother knows better than to bestow his riches upon someone so far removed from his own sphere. He will marry Anne!”
“I . . . will . . . not . . . marry . . . anyone!” cried Darcy, and he stormed from the room.
“My, he is in a taking!” said Georgiana. “I hope it was not something I said.”
“Mr Darcy is at Netherfield,” said Lydia, almost bursting with excitement. “I just heard it from Cook who heard it from John Coachman, who had it from the tapster at the inn.”
“The tapster at the inn had it direct from Mr Bingley’s stable boy!” announced Kitty, not to be outdone.
“He has come to propose to Lizzy!” Mrs Bennet enthused. “I knew how it would be! My daughter has not been so obstinate for nothing!” She turned to Lizzy, all wreathed in smiles, and continued. “It was a love letter that Lady Catherine delivered! Sly, sly wench!”
“Indeed not, Mama,” cried Lizzy. “I had no idea he had come.”
“Oh no, of course,” said Mrs Bennet, winking profusely at the other two girls. “Your sister cannot conjecture what Mr Darcy is about!”
“Cannot the gentleman visit his friend without all this speculation?” Lizzy got up from her chair and flung down her needlework. “He is not about to offer for me. I am the last person he desires to marry, I assure you.”
“Oh Lydia,” squealed Kitty. “If Lizzy is the last, that must mean he will offer for the two of us first!”
“Ooh! If he should propose to me I should accept and he would have no need to ask you at all.”
“I am older, so he would ask me first,” said Kitty.
“But I am taller, and by far the most forward,” Lydia smirked.
“Poor Lizzy!” teased Kitty. “We shall steal her love right out from under her nose.”
The two burst into fits of giggles and threw themselves upon a sofa.
“Now, now,” said Mrs Bennet. “You girls will have your turn soon. Let Lizzy keep her Mr Darcy, after all, she has worked so hard to bring him up to scratch.”
“I have done nothing!” cried Lizzy. “I have set no lures, cast no spells, devised no machinations. I would rather run off with the gypsies than entrap Mr Darcy into a loveless marriage.”
“Are there not some gypsies encamped in the village common?” asked Lydia, between choking bouts of laughter.
Lizzy cast her a scorching glare and then ran out of the parlour, slamming the door behind her with such force that all the trinkets on Mrs Bennet’s knickknack shelf tumbled to the ground.
“Was it something I said?” sputtered Lydia, her eyes streaming with mirth.
Posted on Wednesday, 12 July 2006
It did not take long for Lizzy to throw a change of clothes and her toiletries into a carpetbag. She threw a shawl over her shoulders, put on a sturdy pair of half boots, and slipped outside by the servant’s staircase. She was not headed for the common and the gypsies – she had a small amount of money in her reticule and she planned to use it for passage on the London Stage.
She trudged up the lane in the opposite direction of Meryton. There was an inn on the post road that was not frequented by the gentility. There, no nosey neighbour would interfere with her plan for escape. The sound of hoof beats caused her to toss her bag behind a tree and feign picking the elderberries that grew in the hedgerows. She did not want to be caught by the likes of one of the Lucas boys before she’d got further than a half mile from her home.
“Miss Bennet!”
She knew that voice. “Mr Darcy,” she said as she turned. Her hands were full of berries. She had no idea what to do with them.
“You are picking berries.”
“As you see.”
“Allow me,” he said, dismounting from his carriage. He pulled his handkerchief from his jacket pocket, tied the opposite corners together, and held it out to her. “You appear to need a basket.”
“Thank you,” she said. “My decision was rather impromptu – the berries were all so . . . big.”
“A temptation to be sure,” he responded, a smile curving his mouth.
“Yes,” she said as she placed the berries in the pouch formed by the handkerchief.
Darcy’s groom took the reins and walked the horses up the lane a pace, where they could take advantage of the lush grass growing along the verge. Darcy himself stood awkwardly for a moment and then recollected his manners. “Your family is well?”
“Yes, very well,” said Lizzy, blushing at the thought of Lydia and Kitty and all they had been saying when she left the house. “And your sister?”
Darcy recollected all the unkind things his sister had said of Elizabeth Bennet less than a half hour before. His face coloured as well. “She is here at Netherfield.” He looked at his feet and then added. “As is Miss Bingley, and my aunt.”
“Your aunt. I had the . . . pleasure of seeing her earlier today.”
Darcy looked up at that. “You do not need to hide anything from me – I am assured she was officious, and uncivil.”
“I suppose it would have been surprising if she were otherwise,” said Lizzy. Then she coloured again. “I am sorry – I ought not to have said that.”
“No – you must always tell me what you truly feel.” And then he realised how his words might be misconstrued, given their history and some very passionate truths Elizabeth Bennet had said concerning love, and the kiss that had accompanied those truths.
Lizzy found herself thinking of the same scene as well, and she felt a strong urge to eradicate the memory from both their minds.
“My feelings . . .” she faltered. “My feelings are so changed – in fact they are quite the opposite.”
Darcy stared at her in surprise. “They are?” He experienced an unexpected sensation of loss, which was strange given the fact that he now need not worry about disappointing her hopes. “I am relieved,” he said, “because I was given to understand . . . and I . . .” He was unsure how to continue.
“No,” Lizzy rushed to assure him. “My family has most annoyingly assumed that you want to – that is, you intend to . . . offer for me . . . but I – I did not set it about. I have been suffering from mortification and am glad of the opportunity to let you know that I expect no such attentions – nor do I want them.”
Again Darcy experienced a sinking feeling. “My family has been annoying as well,” he said at last, trying to ignore how her repeated avowals of disinterest affected him. “My sister lives in fear that I will propose to you – she has it in her head that you are not good enough for me, which of course is nonsense. You know that is not why . . .”
“I am inclined to agree with her. We are not of the same sphere.”
“I am a gentleman and you are a gentleman’s daughter. I see no disparity.”
“My family is . . . shameless and encroaching.”
“What has your family to do with it? We are discussing your value. There is no reason why you should not marry well; you have all the qualities a discerning gentleman looks for. Intellect. Wit. Accomplishments. Charm. Beauty.” Darcy suddenly realised that not only was he disconcerting Elizabeth with these protestations, he was beginning to confuse himself. He attempted to bring the discussion back on track. “Besides, my family is nothing to be proud of, either. My sister is a snobbish prig, my aunt is a termagant, and my cousin is a heartless manipulator.”
“But my family is worse. My youngest sisters are sad flirts. My aunt and uncle Gardiner are shallow opportunists. My mother is a scheming matchmaker and even my father, though it pains me to say it, has his failings. He is disappointingly indolent.”
“I quite enjoyed my interview with your father whilst arranging your sister’s wedding. He has a sly sense of humour. And neither you nor your sister Jane has anything to reproach yourselves for.”
“Thank you. You cannot let your family’s faults disturb you either. Anyone who knows you can only hold you in respect.”
Darcy smiled diffidently. “Do you know what I am doing upon this road with my carriage?” he said.
Lizzy hadn’t even given it a thought, so shocked she had been to meet Mr Darcy when she had been intent upon avoiding him.
“I am escaping my family, and Bingley and his sister, and, well, everybody. One side is dedicated to convince me against you, the other insists that I am in love with you, albeit unknowingly. They have driven me beyond distraction. I almost took up with that encampment of gypsies, but they said my carriage would have to be painted red and blue. I didn’t fancy that.”
Lizzy laughed, as Darcy had intended, and then became thoughtful. “Your situation has been insupportable as well?”
“Untenable.”
“I am sorry to have caused you such trouble.”
“Miss Bennet, you are not to blame. Miss Bingley began the whole with her scheming, and my aunt put herself out of favour by not accepting my disinterest in Anne. Nobody understands that I alone must choose who I marry.”
“I understand,” said Elizabeth shyly. “You are quite like me in that respect. I believe you will only marry for the deepest love.”
“The deepest love?” Darcy gazed down the road in abstraction. “Truth to tell, I don’t even know what love is.” He sighed and then shook himself. “And you, Miss Bennet? Where is it that you are going? Do not tell me that you came out to pick berries, because we both know that was a ruse.”
“I told my family I was going to join the gypsies,” said Lizzy with a self conscious giggle, “but they didn’t believe me. It will serve them right when they find me gone, and the gypsies too.”
“Was the idea of marrying me too disgusting to face?”
“The idea of you proposing because you saw no way out of it, yes. Then there were the humiliating recriminations I would have had to bear if you left Hertfordshire without making me an offer. Either way I did not want any part of it.”
“Ours was a fortuitous meeting, then, because I was about to cut and run without any consideration for your feelings, so wound up I was in my own. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I was about to run from you as well, so it would be disobliging for me not too.”
“You have not been wholly honest with me, though.”
Lizzy looked guilty. “Whatever do you mean?”
“The gypsies are encamped in Meryton. That is in the opposite direction.”
“Oh, I said that I informed my family that I was running away with the gypsies. I did not say that was indeed what I was doing.”
“True. Miss Bennet, what are you indeed doing? And is there any way I may be of assistance to you?”
“I am going to London to become a governess.”
Darcy reflected that the prospect of marriage to him must have been worrisome indeed if Elizabeth would rather be in service. The little cutting stab he felt must be to his vanity – there was no other explanation.
“On foot?”
“I am not such a simpleton! I am walking to the inn on the post road. From there I will take the London Stage.”
“At what time is the stage? We have been conversing for a while – I hope I have not made you miss it.”
Sheepishly, Lizzy answered, “I have not the slightest idea.”
“I can take you as far as the inn in my carriage, and we can enquire,” said Darcy.
“Let me get my bag,” said Lizzy, and she ducked into the bushes.
When they were safely in the carriage and driving down the road, Darcy cleared his throat. Lizzy, who had been feeling a little shy at being alone in a closed carriage with the man, looked up.
“I do not think stopping at the inn is a good idea,” said Darcy.
“Whyever not?”
“How would it look? Besides, I do not think it would be wise for you to travel by stage without a servant or some other companion. It is better that I escort you all the way to London. What is your direction? Gracechurch Street?”
“Oh no! I could never face my aunt and uncle! They would be so angry with me for not having captured you.”
“Do you have respectable lodgings you can stay at while you await your new position?”
“I don’t even have a position yet,” said Lizzy in a very small voice.
“Where were you planning on going?”
“Mary stayed at a lodging house while she was in London. I have the direction – Nineteen Younge Alley.”
“Younge Alley!” Darcy banged on the wall of the carriage. It stopped immediately. “I need to give our direction to the groom,” he said, opening the door. “I will be back in a moment.
Lizzy wondered at Mr Darcy’s outburst. She hoped that she wasn’t being a burden to him. It was strange. He was the last person in the world that she had wanted to see, and yet, aside from the embarrassing subject of much of their conversation, she had enjoyed herself in his company. And she had discovered that she was not as immune to his charms as she had made herself believe she was. Not by a long stretch. When Mr Darcy returned he shot Lizzy an unsettling look, his green eyes as vibrant as ever, and then sat down on the bench opposite her.
“I hope I am not inconveniencing you by making you take me to London,” said Lizzy.
Darcy glanced out the window. “You are not making me do anything. I offered to take you, and I am not going anywhere I do not want to go.”
Lizzy smiled at his reassurances, then she attempted to relax as best she could and tried not to think about the fact that she was alone in the carriage with Mr Darcy. It appeared he was no longer interested in conversation and they sat in silence for a good distance as the smooth, rolling motion of the carriage began to make Lizzy sleepy. She thought that sleeping whilst in his company would be impolite, so Lizzy bestirred herself and took a look out the window to see how far they had gone. The countryside was completely unfamiliar.
“This is not the London road!”
Darcy shifted nervously in his seat. “We are not going to London.”
“But you said . . . I thought you abhorred deceit of every kind!”
“I do.”
“But you lied! Where are you taking me?”
“I have not lied – I did not say we were going to London – I said we were not going anywhere I did not want to go.”
“You said you were giving the groom that address in Younge Alley!”
“I said nothing of the kind. I said I was giving him our direction. I omitted to tell you that Younge Alley was not our direction, and that we were not going to London, it is true. Did you not see how uncomfortable I have been this past half hour just for that simple omission? I abhor deceit intensely.”
Lizzy began banging upon the carriage walls. “I demand that you turn this carriage around and take me to Younge Alley in London. Oh, why is the groom not stopping?”
“I gave him orders not to stop, no matter what kind of a commotion he heard coming from this carriage. My servants are all very loyal.”
“But you are abducting me!”
“It does appear that way, does it not?” Darcy leaned back against the squabs and smiled.
“Mr Darcy! This is outrageous. You are a gentleman. Think of my reputation.”
“Miss Bennet, if you calmed down for just one moment, and gave yourself over to rational thought, you would realise that I am thinking of your reputation. I already explained that I could not drop you at the inn or allow you to travel by common stage. How could you expect me to take you to London and leave you in Younge Alley? I have been there – it is most appallingly vile. Even if you had a respectable place to go, without a position as governess organised, how could I leave you? Even if you had a position as governess arranged, how could I leave you, knowing it was fear of marriage to me that had driven you to such desperate straits? In fact, how could we drive to London alone together in a closed carriage without compromising your reputation irreparably?”
“So, where is it that we are going?” asked Lizzy.
“Scotland.”
“But . . . but . . . are we eloping?”
“I see no other recourse, and as I do not providentially have a special licence with me, Scotland is our only alternative.”
“But you do not want to marry me and I do not want to marry you. We were both running away to avoid marriage to each other, How can the only solution to our problems be that we marry?”
“Ironic, isn’t it? But there it is. I am sorry if I frightened you, but I was afraid if I told you my intentions you might refuse.”
“But – you have said all along that you have no desire to marry me. I do not want you to marry me just out of a sense of obligation.”
“Elizabeth. If I did not want to marry you, I would not have taken you up in my carriage in the first place. I was aware of the implications all along.”
“But just to save face!” cried Lizzy, putting her head in her hands.
Darcy moved across the space between them and sat by her side. He tentatively placed his arm about her stooped shoulders. “Not just to save face. Believe me, and please do not cry.”
Lizzy stared up at him, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. “But . . .”
“I will not force you to marry me, if you detest the idea so much. We might be able to discover some other solution by putting our minds to it. I just . . . well, we were talking so amiably and I found myself enjoying being with you as I never had before, and we shared the same predicament – and then the thought struck me. Why was I so set against marrying you anyway? I admire your attributes: your lively mind, your sense of the ridiculous, your honesty, your determination, your kindness, and yes, your pleasing figure. How do I know love will not grow from that? I truly believe I was so determined against you because everyone pushed you at me.”
“Do not forget my rude behaviour to you in the beginning.”
“Your letter explained it to me and has long made me sorry for all those hurtful things I said to you that evening in Hunsford.”
“Oh, do not mention Hunsford to me,” said Lizzy, hiding her face in her hands again. “I am mortified whenever I think of my behaviour,”
“I am not,” said Darcy. “I would not mind it if your behaviour was repeated. But, if you really meant what you said about feeling the opposite of what you did that evening, I will not press you.”
“I meant it when I said it, at least I believed at the time that I did. Now my thoughts are all confused.”
“So are mine,” said Darcy, taking a deep breath. “I think it might be our close proximity.”
And though it very well could have been the close proximity, neither of them took the opportunity of moving apart. If anything they moved closer together, and Darcy’s arm, that at first was placed with tentative lightness around Lizzy’s shoulders, now held her in a firm, confident embrace.
“I think I will take the initiative this time, if I may,” he whispered. There was little opportunity for Lizzy to nod her assent before their lips met for the second time in their lives. This kiss was sweeter, given that it was desired and reciprocal, and fulfilled that longing for more, which had existed for both since the first, disastrous kiss. In fact, Darcy found he had no desire to stop, but the annoying truth was he had to breathe. He rested his head against Lizzy’s forehead. “I think love will come quite easily.”
She sighed. “There is nothing for it but to marry, then. After all, now that I am truly compromised there is no escaping matrimony.”
“I will willingly compromise you some more if need be,” said Darcy.
Lizzy laughed. “After all the hard work you went to, saving my family’s honour, it is all in shreds again! Whatever will Lydia and Kitty do?”
“Do not worry about your younger sisters,” said Darcy as he discovered the delight of plying his fingers through Lizzy’s hair. “I will be sure to throw them into the paths of other rich men. I trust them to know how to take it from there.”