The Other side of Pride and Prejudice - Section VI
By Leareth
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Chapter 33 ~ Reconciliation
True to his word, Mr. Gardiner arrived at Pemberley at noon. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley eagerly awaited his arrival in the drawing room, valiantly bearing Miss Bingley's snide comments and complaints about their guests for dinner. Thankfully, the entrance of Mr. Gardiner silenced her at once, and after greetings were made the men, excluding Mr. Hurst who was having lunch, set off for the river.
They decided upon one of the spots Darcy had pointed out to Mr. Gardiner two days before. Before long, Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were comfortably settled on the bank, talking while waiting for a bite. Unfortunately, the fish did not wish to oblige them - many smaller ones were caught but had to be released - and it was nearly an hour after they had first cast their lines before Bingley drew his back, landing a large trout.
"I wonder if that fine specimen of a fish will grace the table tonight?" asked Mr. Gardiner.
Darcy thought about it. "I think it will. My cook could do wonders with it." He turned his attention back to his own line, which stubbornly refused to catch anything.
"That is good to hear," said Mr. Gardiner. "I must confess I enjoy a good meal heartily."
Bingley looked up from his catch. "Hurst does as well, though I think he eats more than is healthy for him."
"When you get to my age, young sir, the simple pleasures become very dear," laughed Mr. Gardiner. "As long as one eats healthily, a little indulgence won't do any harm."
"Outdoor exercise won't harm a person either. My cousin is of a delicate constitution, and spends much of her time indoors. I believe it would do her a great deal of good if she were to venture out of the house a bit more often, like your niece," said Darcy. "Miss Bennet, I hope was well this morning?" he asked as casually as possible.
Mr. Gardiner looked at him with a questioning look. He smiled, as if knowing something Darcy did not know. Bingley by this time, had re-baited his line and cast it out. The splash was unnaturally loud in the silence following Darcy's question.
"In actual fact, I began to worry this morning that she might be coming down with some illness or other. Don't worry," he hastily continued upon seeing Darcy's very concerned look, "she assured me that she was quite well and that she would be keeping tonight's engagement. I only thought so because for the last few days she has been unusually silent and this morning she remarked that she had stayed awake two full hours thinking about - " Mr. Gardiner broke off. "I know not what would have kept her awake for so long for she did not tell me."
This did nothing to alleviate Darcy's concern, and he inquired as to when these symptoms had begun.
"Come to think of it, that afternoon when we came upon you while looking at your estate."
This threw Darcy into deep thought. He was certain Elizabeth was not ill, (if she was, he vowed to do everything in his power to help her recover) and somehow knew that, to her, his sudden change in behaviour must have seemed most strange indeed. Add to that the letter he had written to her months ago, and her feelings towards him must be very confused indeed.
But what did she feel for him? Certainly not hate, was it friendship? More than friendship?
Is it even right for me to wish more from her? thought he. God knows how much I love her, should I ask for more on her part?
He cringed away from the thought, as realistic as it was. Did she only wish for friendship when he felt so much more towards her?
Mr. Gardiner let out an exclamation of delight as he reeled in a fish whose size challenged Bingley's catch. Darcy and Bingley congratulated him as it was landed and expressed hopes for more sport.
Darcy's thoughts, however, were no longer on fishing. "When will your wife and niece be coming?" he asked Mr. Gardiner.
"I believe they were to visit one of our friends in the village and come here - in fact they should have been at Pemberley quite some time now," finished he glancing at his time-piece.
Darcy had to restrain himself from immediately getting up and heading back to the house. Such an action would only arouse suspicion in people's minds and so it was with some difficulty, he waited.
After a five minutes, he could not fight the desire to see her again.
"I do not think I shall have any luck today," said he getting up. "I will return to the house. Will you join me?"
Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley glanced at each other. "In a little while perhaps. I am still willing to hope there will be more fish later," said Bingley. Mr. Gardiner agreed and so Darcy excused himself and returned to the house.
He found the ladies in the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it beautiful for the summer. They were eating some fruit and Darcy was glad to see that Georgiana was playing the role of a good hostess.
His eyes immediately searched for Elizabeth. She sat off to one side, far from Georgiana, next to Miss Bingley. Upon his entry, Elizabeth had turned towards him and seemed as if to say something but Miss Bingley had risen and come to talk to him. He soon quickly but politely deflected any attempts to secure him in conversation and made to go and sit in the seat Miss Bingley had vacated but Miss Bingley quickly moved to retake her seat. He chose instead to sit beside Mrs. Gardiner.
There was little conversation; Miss Bingley hardly spoke a word (except to himself), Georgiana was shy, Elizabeth uncomfortable and so the bulk of the conversation was carried by Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Annesley. What was more, Darcy soon realised that the suspicions of the entire party were awakened against himself and Elizabeth and so he was unable to even glance at Elizabeth without alerting Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst.
Not long after his arrival, Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley returned, the servants carrying another trout as a result of their patience. The fishing equipment were put away, the fish sent to the kitchen and soon with the addition of the two men, the whole party were conversing gaily.
After some time, Mrs. Gardiner expressed her desire for some music. She ruefully admitted to being unable to play, a confession which was greeted with haughty smiles by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. The former agreed to play a piece, "if Miss Eliza would be so kind as to oblige us with a song?"
Elizabeth, Darcy noticed, was still very deep in thought, and Miss Bingley had to repeat her question another time before Elizabeth agreed.
They all moved into the music room, where Georgiana's new pianoforte stood by the window. Miss Bingley, before she sat down at the instrument, gave Darcy a triumphant smile. He ignored it, merely waiting for her performance to be over.
From his seat near Mr. Gardiner, Darcy looked again at Elizabeth. She was talking to Georgiana off to one side, near Mrs. Hurst who sat opposite him. Bingley talked quietly to Mrs. Gardiner nearer to the piano. Mr. Hurst sat next to some food. Georgiana walked towards her brother, leading Elizabeth. Darcy watched in amazement; she did it all so artfully, Elizabeth did not realise that she was drawing closer to Darcy until Georgiana said,
"What would you like to hear Miss Bennet play?"
Elizabeth looked down at him in sudden surprise. Darcy looked up. "Ah - anything you like, Miss Bennet. Is there some favourite of yours, perhaps?"
Before Elizabeth could reply, Miss Bingley began to play, a fast and demanding sonata, thus cutting off any conversation - which might have been her intention.
Miss Bingley played agreeably, but though it was technically brilliant, there was no feeling behind it. Polite applause followed, then fell silent as Georgiana searched through a neat pile of music. She found the music she was looking for and gave it to Elizabeth, giving her brother a sly smile. Miss Bingley sat next to her sister, opposite Darcy.
"Would you not play this?" asked Georgiana softly. Elizabeth replied that she knew the piece very well, but would Georgiana be so kind as to turn the pages for her? Georgiana agreed and stood to Elizabeth's left, allowing herself a full view of the room, and Darcy a full view of Elizabeth. Which might have been her intention.
Elizabeth glanced at Georgiana and then began to play.
The aria, from one of Mozart's operas, was a beautiful piece, and though Elizabeth did not perform it masterly, nevertheless, it touched Darcy's heart. She sang, and everyone else disappeared from the room - only Elizabeth remained. Darcy relaxed and leaned back, vaguely aware of Mr. Gardiner looking at him with amusement, and Miss Bingley with worry. But he did not care - all that mattered was the song and the performer. A rare smile of pure contentment lighted up his handsome features.
All too soon, the song drew to a close. He applauded, never taking his eyes off her. He only did so when Mrs. Gardiner looked at him curiously.
How much do they suspect - or know?
Georgiana spoke softly to Elizabeth. They continued their quiet conversation while Miss Bingley tried to involve Darcy in hers. He pretended not to hear her but stared out the window at the lake where he had met Elizabeth.
Suddenly, he was aware of some one looking at him. He looked up to see Georgiana and Elizabeth staring at him. He was glad that Georgiana and Elizabeth were getting along like sisters and he wondered what they were saying about him.
Elizabeth moved away from the piano and gestured for Georgiana to play. His sister's look of horror did not dissuade Elizabeth and soon Georgiana was performing. Darcy was delighted, finally, someone had persuaded Georgiana to overcome her shyness.
Elizabeth began to walk in his direction. He fervently hoped that she would sit beside him, but instead Miss Bingley turned to her and said,
"Pray, Miss Eliza, are the militia still quartered at Meryton?"
"No, they are encamped at Brighton for the summer," replied Elizabeth.
"That must be a very great loss to your family."
Darcy was shocked that Miss Bingley would have the audacity to insult his guest.
Elizabeth responded politely, "We are enduring it as best as we can, Miss Bingley."
Miss Bingley, however, was not finished.
"I should have thought one gentleman's absence might have caused particular pain."
In the tense pause that followed, Darcy was torn between his anger at Miss Bingley and his uncertainty of what feelings Elizabeth still harboured for Wickham.
"I can't imagine who you mean," said Elizabeth evasively.
"I understand that certain young ladies found the society of Mr. Wickham, curiously agreeable."
At the mention of Wickham, Georgiana looked up sharply and the piece abruptly stopped. Darcy half-rose to go to his sister's aid if need be.
How dare she mention Wickham in my house!
But any drastic action was quickly avoided. Georgiana quickly recovered and began playing again. Elizabeth calmly returned to the instrument saying, "I'm so sorry - I am neglecting you. How can you play with no one to turn the pages?"
Her calm and controlled manner soon dissipated any uncertainties Darcy still harboured in regard for Elizabeth's feelings to Wickham. He restrained himself and settled back in his seat.
His anger at Miss Bingley had not disappeared. The lady in question was looking at him triumphantly. He allowed himself the pleasure of glaring at her. She saw this and quickly averted her gaze.
"There, allow me," said Elizabeth softly to Georgiana. A page was turned.
The piece modulated into a minor key. As it did so, Elizabeth looked at him.
Darcy caught his breath and held her gaze. None of them were willing to break the spell. She smiled at him, and he returned the favour.
What unspoken meanings spanned the distance - so close and yet so far - between them! Love's light-through-eyeball energy raced and flew over the heads of the party, unaware of the silent communication in their midst. What a gift this moment was from the unpredictable hands of Fate that had thrown them together, erected walls between them, built on their pride and prejudice, and only now allowed them this one moment of happiness together.
For that one moment, Darcy made himself completely open to the world. His love and adoration were clearly written on his face. He knew that anyone could tell he was in love.
And he knew that Elizabeth could see it as well.
The visit had ended after dinner. The afternoon's catch had been the focus of the meal. It was Georgiana's first experience at being hostess, and she performed admirably. She had also made the seating arrangements and whether by accident or design, had tactfully put Miss Bingley at the far end of the table and placed Elizabeth to Darcy's immediate right. He had to tell himself time and time again to keep his eyes on his plate and not the lady sitting next to him.
Darcy, Bingley and Georgiana had been the only ones to bid their guests farewell outside. Promises to meet again were made and as the carriage drove away, Bingley escorted Georgiana back indoors. Darcy, however, ventured further outside, watching Elizabeth depart.
Though the night was dark, he somehow knew without using his eyes to confirm it, that Elizabeth had turned back to look at him and smiled.
Georgiana, tired after the day's activities, went to bed, leaving Darcy and Bingley to go to the drawing-room where Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were. No sooner had he poured himself and Bingley a glass of wine, Miss Bingley began her torrent of criticisms.
"How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,'' she cried; "I never in my life saw any one so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again."
However little Darcy liked such an address, he contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than her being rather tanned - no miraculous consequence of traveling in the summer. He turned to face the fire so as to not let any of his anger show. When Miss Bingley rose from her seat, he took it.
"For my own part," she rejoined, "I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way. And as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive any thing extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion which is intolerable."
Though Darcy was somewhat nettled, he was resolutely silent. Bingley, ashamed for his sister, began, "I think - "
"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty," continued Miss Bingley, cutting off her brother, "and I particularly recollect your saying one night, Mr. Darcy, after that Meryton Assembly, 'She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit!'" She laughed heartily with Mrs. Hurst at this recollection, then said, "But afterwards she seemed to improve on you. I even believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."
"Yes I did," replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, "but that was only when I first knew her." He rose from his seat, drew himself up to his full height and looked at Miss Bingley challengingly.
"For it has been many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance!"
Miss Bingley looked shocked, then shamed, then she hung her head in defeat.
There was little encouragement to continue any activity after that outburst. Mrs. Hurst declared herself fatigued and woke her husband to go to bed. Miss Bingley quickly followed suit. Bingley gave his friend an apologetic glance then hurried after his sisters. He could be heard chastising them for their behaviour.
Darcy did not care. This had been one of the best days of his life.
It was getting very late, but sleep could not claim Darcy. He lit a candle, determined to conduct a quick patrol of the house to see that everything had gone well in his absence.
Most of the servants had already retired for the night and so the house was dark. Darcy did not mind, he could see easily enough. Two of his dogs silently accompanied him on his solitary stroll.
Though he thought he was walking aimlessly, he found himself heading for the music room, where that magical moment had occurred.
He placed the candle on the mantle over the fireplace. He sighed and leaned against it. He looked up at the piano.
Unbidden, the image of Elizabeth rose from his memory. He could see her; her beautiful face framed by her dark curls, they way her eyes had sparkled when she smiled at him.
It was very likely that Elizabeth returned his affections. But his modesty prevented him from being sure. Though they were no longer enemies, they were most certainly not lovers. Friends, perhaps.
And there was only one way he could strengthen that friendship.
Confession, apology and forgiveness, his mother had once told him, were the tools friends used to break walls down into bridges. And afterwards, the relationship would be much stronger.
He headed back to bed, determined to see Elizabeth the next morning.
And when he did see her, he would apologise for his past actions.
Chapter 34 ~ Fortune's Fool
Elizabeth was on his mind when he fell asleep, and when he woke up. As soon as he had dressed, Darcy was off riding across the field on his horse to Lambton. He was impatient to see her again. He whipped his horse faster.
Darcy intended to invite her again to dine at Pemberley and also, to apologise to Elizabeth for everything he had done in the past.
And maybe, just maybe, his apology would end in the same way he had dreamt it.
The innkeeper grinned as he saw who his visitor was. Before Darcy could even voice his request, the man had called his daughter and told her to go up and announce Mr. Darcy to Miss Bennet.
Darcy laughed and gave the man some coins.
"Thank you."
"Always ready to help, good master," said the innkeeper.
Darcy quickly ascended the stairs, just as Hannah opened the door and say, "If you please ma'am!"
Darcy quickly entered. "Miss Bennet, I - "
He stopped short as he saw her. She was pale and looked as if she was about to burst into tears, faint or both at once.
Elizabeth spoke rapidly, "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not a moment to lose."
"Good God, what is the matter?" cried he with more feeling than politeness. He recovered himself and continued, "I will not detain you a minute, but let me go, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner." He gestured towards the door, about to leave that very minute but the hint of rebellion in Elizabeth's eyes made him say, "You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself."
"No, I must," said she. She tried to push past him but he firmly took her arm and lead her to a chair.
"Come, I insist - it will be for the best." He had to stay with her, so he called out the door, "Hello there!"
Hannah appeared at once.
"Can we have Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner fetched here at once! They walked in the direction of - " here he looked at Elizabeth.
"The church," said she in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible.
"The church!"
Hannah bobbed a curtsey.
"Yes sir, at once!" She left, closing the door behind her.
Concerned, Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth. Placing his hat and cane on the table, he leaned forward, never letting go of her hand.
"Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you
could take, to give you present relief?" asked he in a tone of gentleness and commiseration. "A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill."
"No, I thank you," she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. "There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn."
As she alluded to this, she burst into tears. Darcy, in wretched suspense, observed her in compassionate silence.
Seeing her so upset, he was nearly overcome by the impulse to take her in his arms and ease that hurt away. He restrained it, for though relations had improved between them, he doubted that she would appreciate such an action.
Whatever has made her so upset, I swear I shall right it!
At length, her sobs stopped. In control of herself again, she looked away from him and said, "Please forgive me."
"No, no . . . " replied he in a voice full of emotion. He let go of her hand to grip his chair tightly. She was so close - her eyes glowing with tears maddened him.
Get a grip on yourself!
"I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends - has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of . . . of Mr. Wickham."
Darcy was shocked, though he did his best to keep his face stony.
Oh, God, no.
"They are gone off together from Brighton," continued she. "You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to she is lost for ever."
Her voice was trembling, he looked into her beautiful eyes that were brimming with tears that he longed to kiss away. He closed his eyes to shut out that dainty vision of her sweet face. Knowing that if he stayed so close to her, he might do something rash, he quickly got out of his chair and moved a safer distance away, turning his back to her.
"When I consider," she added sobbing, in a yet more agitated voice, "that I might have prevented it! I who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only - some part of what I learnt - to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now."
It is no fault of yours. I should have told you all when I knew he was in Meryton.
He wanted so much to tell her this, for her to confide turn to him for comfort and assistance. But such thoughts were selfish at a time like this, when her distress, not his emotions, needed to be healed.
But had you told the world of Wickham's character, everything he has done since Ramsgate could have been avoided. Elizabeth would never have believed his lies and this whole elopement couldn't have taken place - had you exposed him.
This disaster is my fault - because of my lack of foresight, her family has been disgraced.
There was no way he could expect her to return his love now, not after this. All he could do was try to amend things, even if it meant finding Wickham out personally and hauling Lydia back to Longbourn.
Wickham! Damn the man! Had Wickham been in the room, he would have fled from Darcy's angry glare.
"I am grieved, indeed," cried Darcy; "grieved - shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?"
"Oh yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland."
Darcy thought. If Wickham had not yet married Lydia Bennet, there was still a chance that this situation could be mended.
"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?" He walked to the window, thinking.
"My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. She is gone forever, and our whole family must partake in her ruin and disgrace. It is every way horrible!"
Darcy turned to face her. So she was leaving - possibly forever. She would certainly never come to Pemberley again, and he shuddered at the thought of going to Hertfordshire, where he would be constantly reminded that he had caused the ruin of the whole Bennet family.
He would never see Elizabeth again - and his life was nothing without her. He silently resolved to dedicate the remainder of his life to securing the happiness of those he loved. Whatever he had to endure in the years to come, perhaps this would give his existence some value, some meaning.
"When my eyes were opened to his real character - Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! But I knew not - I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched, mistake!"
Darcy made no answer. He scarcely heard her, and was walking up and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air gloomy. He had to fix this mess, and he resolved to instantly go to London, hunt out the two fugitives and either bring Lydia home, or, God forbid it, make Wickham and Lydia marry.
Darcy spoke, in a manner, which though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said, "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I any thing to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that any thing could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day."
"Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long."
"You can be assured of my secrecy," said he. There was no way he was going to make a bad situation worse by telling the whole world of it.
But he had to leave her now - forever.
"I have stayed too long. I shall leave you now."
He picked his belongings up from the table. Elizabeth rose from her seat. There were still tears in her eyes.
"Yes, thank you." She curtseyed, he bowed.
"Good-bye."
Darcy opened the door. He looked back at Elizabeth, at the face he so loved, but would never see again.
He left.
Darcy arrived home and as he handed his horse to the head groom, he told the man to ready his carriage and the four fastest horses for a journey to London. He then continued to the house itself.
Georgiana had been waiting for him but Darcy's despairing look stopped her short.
"I need to leave for London, Georgiana," said he.
"But you have only just arrived!"
"This is urgent. I will leave in an hour."
Georgiana, seeing her brother was resolved in going, begged him to wait until the next morning. He relented, and proceeded to make the necessary arrangements to go to London.
That evening, the whole party listened to Georgiana play. Ever since yesterday, she seemed more confident in performing and had needed little encouragement. When she had finished, they all applauded, except Darcy who was lost in his own black mood.
Again, Wickham had upset his dreams! Whenever things had looked bright, there he was, a sneaking snake, bringing darkness to blot out the light of his hopes.
And now, again, relations between him and Elizabeth had crumbled.
He heard Miss Bingley speak to him, but he only caught the name she mentioned.
" . . . Miss Eliza Bennet."
"What?" he snapped.
If she was insulting her again, I will not be responsible for any harm I may do to her! I am sick of all her games!
Everyone in the room looked at him.
"Excuse me."
He got up, fixed his black coat and left the room.
Tortured again by dark thoughts, he could not sleep. Elizabeth's tear-streaked face haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. She blamed herself for Lydia's disgrace when actually the fault lay with him.
Darcy silently vowed, that though he would never share her life, he would make certain that her life - without him - would be happy.
The next morning found Darcy grimly determined, alone in the magnificent carriage that was hurtling down the road as fast as the four chestnut horses could pull it.
Chapter 35 ~ Money Applications
Along the journey to London, Darcy had ample time to think over his plan to find Wickham and Lydia Bennet. Certain that Wickham had kept up his relations with Mrs. Younge, Georgiana's former companion, Darcy resolved upon contacting her.
The moment he had stepped into his London townhouse, he headed for his study. Being a man who preferred a neat, ordered method of keeping records, it was not long before he had located the information on Mrs. Younge when she had been in his service.
And so it was, that evening found Darcy in a relatively bad part of London.
The streets were crowded, dirty and noisy. Children ran along the road, heedless of the carts and horses. Here and there a drunk lounged in the gutter, women drying clothes at the window shouted across the street regardless of who heard them.
Darcy did his best to ignore the sounds as well as the stares people aimed at him, obviously unused to seeing a gentlemen in their midst. He looked at each house, searching for the one rented by Mrs. Younge.
Finally he came across it. He rapped on the door. The door opened slightly and a man opened it. Darcy could not see much of his face, but the man's eyes had the look of one who was hunted. Not recognising Darcy as anyone he knew, the man opened the door wider.
"Can I 'elp you sir?" he asked.
"Yes. Is there a Mrs. Younge here?"
"Mrs. Younge? You'd be talking 'bout the lady who rented this place afore me." He made as if to shut the door. Darcy held it open.
"Do you know where she has moved to?"
The man looked Darcy up and down.
"I might . . . "
Darcy reached into his pocket and took out a few coins of relatively high denomination.
The money was taken. The man glanced at it and shoved somewhere into the recesses of is grimy apron.
"She's moved to Edward Street. Left this place 'cause some of the dealings she held 'ere were less than legal." He scowled. "The runners keep coming here now and again."
But you have not informed them about her. No doubt you also have shady dealings to hide.
"And where is Edward Street?" asked Darcy coldly.
The man grumbled but said, "It's somewhere over thataway."
Darcy held up two more coins.
The man closed the door behind him and walked down the street, pointing directions.
"All right sir. Walk down to the end of the street and turn right. Then across the square and turn left. Then go to the third street on the left, under the arch, and it's either the fourth or fifth road on your right."
Darcy repeated this to the man, making sure he remembered it all.
"You're good. Get a drink for the gentlemen!" he yelled to a someone.
A boy appeared with a cup of water. Darcy drank it gratefully and gave the boy a shilling.
"I thank you sir for the information," said he to the anonymous man.
"Always ready to help you gentle-folk," replied he. He grinned toothily. "What you be wanting Mrs. Younge for anyway, eh?"
"I need to settle an account," replied Darcy, his face hard.
Determined, he set off again, leaving the unknown member of the populace standing, wondering.
He walked along, repeating the directions over and over again under his breath. He followed them to the letter, pushing past people as he went along.
Night had fallen by this time, and he was both thankful and tense because of it. Thankful because the darkness made it harder for him to see the beggars, the miserable and those who were better left unknown. Tense, because the darkness made it easier for some desperate man to try his luck with Darcy.
If anyone is foolhardy enough to try and attack, they will soon regret it . . . thought Darcy darkly. But some part of him welcomed such an exchange of blows. The last few days had left him eager to vent his frustration, anger and despair on some unfortunate wretch. As it was, the only evidence of his dark mood was one broken glass at his townhouse.
But no one tried to stop him. He walked carefully, trying his best to avoid the filth that covered the roads. Painfully aware that his fine clothes made him stand out amongst the local populace, he kept his head down, only looking up to check for the next road.
He turned left. The roads were crowded at this time of night. He passed a disreputable looking inn. Bawdy singing floated out the window. Grubby, hungry children scrounged the street for anything of value or to be eaten, while beggars whined and held out their hands.
A man pushed past him, and hurried on his way. Disorientated, Darcy looked around. Seeing a beggar-child standing in the shadows, he approached her. At first, the girl cringed at the sight of him, but he spoke kindly.
"Hello little one," he said softly.
The girl looked up at him with hungry eyes.
And how many others like her are there? Darcy thought.
"Do you know where Mrs. Younge lives?"
The girl nodded.
"Can you tell me?"
"Yessir. She's in a house, down this road - " she pointed behind her, " - and Edward Street on your right. It's the big house, one the corner."
"Thank you child."
He pressed some coins into her dirty hand. She stared at them for a moment, then ran off.
Darcy continued down the dark road.
He found the house. Compared to the ones close by, it was large and clean.
Darcy rapped smartly on the door with his cane. It was opened to reveal two women. One he assumed was the housekeeper. The other was Mrs. Younge.
His expression was hard and cold. Almost exactly the way she must have seen him last, when he dismissed her from his service.
She tried to shut the door, but Darcy forced it open. He entered the house, bending slightly to account for his hat.
"Mrs. Younge . . . "
The lady in question looked at him as if seeing her judge for all her past actions. The door was closed behind him.
"What do you want with me?" she asked, fear tingeing her voice. Darcy knew that she knew that he had the power to have any unpleasant retribution he wished.
Darcy did not answer immediately. He took off his hat and gloves and proceeded into the next room. It was simple yet orderly furnished. He motioned for Mrs. Younge to be seated. When she had done so, he glanced at the other woman. She understood his meaning and left the room, closing the only door in or out of it behind her.
"Where is he." he said without any preamble.
"Who?"
"Mrs. Younge, you know exactly the man I am speaking of. Where is he?"
"I do not know who you are speaking of," said the woman, not looking at him.
Darcy did not answer to this immediately. He sighed and spoke.
"I know perfectly well that you have kept your relations with Wickham since last year," he said as unemotionally as possible. "I know that you know his current whereabouts. For the third time, Mrs. Younge, where is he?"
"How should I know where Mr. Wickham is? I have not spoken or seen him since last year," said she stubbornly. She still did not look at him.
Her body language was the same that she had displayed when he spoke to her at Ramsgate. I am sure she knows where he is.
"Madam," said he coldly. "You know who I am. I know that you are aware of Wickham's location. Is he here in this house? Or somewhere else?"
"As I have said before, sir, I do not know where Wickham is!"
"I must know, madam. You will tell me."
"I will not."
There was a clock on the wall. Darcy glanced at it. It was very late. Though his mind was still active, his body was exhausted. He had not rested ever since he had left Pemberley. How could he rest, knowing Elizabeth was in such trouble?
"The night is too far advanced for us to talk in any depth, Mrs. Younge," said Darcy, opening the door. "But believe me, I will return tomorrow." He put on his gloves and hat, then said, "And if you are thinking of being absent from the house tomorrow, I would hate to have to alert the Bow Street Runners of this place."
At this threat, Mrs. Younge blanched and drew a quick breath.
"You cannot prove anything!"
Darcy looked down at her for a long moment.
"You know me, Mrs. Younge. You know that I am sincere. I will know Wickham's location sooner or later."
He left her and the disreputable part of London for his home.
He lay awake for most of the night. Elizabeth's tear-streaked face haunted him. In his mind, he saw himself in the Lambton Inn, putting his arms around her and whispering into her ear, "It will be right, it will be right. I will help you. I love you."
Then she would look up at him, saying that she trusted him, that she believed in him to set the wrong right.
But it was all a dream. Elizabeth was far away, trying to comfort her family when she herself was in need of comfort. Her family's good name, which had been stained with Lydia's folly, which could have been prevented had Darcy chose to tell the world of his dealings with Wickham.
So it was that the present circumstances found Darcy in London, trying to find the man he hated above all others, a girl who he could not respect, going so far as to threaten and most probably, bribe the woman who had orchestrated Georgiana's near-downfall - all because of his love for a woman who did not love him.
True to his word, Darcy returned to Mrs. Younge. This day found her no more willing than the night before. She refused to tell him of Wickham's whereabouts, though with every passing minute, Darcy became even more sure that she knew where he was.
He was certain she was not hiding Wickham herself. Miss Lydia, he was sure, was not the type of girl who would submit herself to any prolonged inaction. He had not heard or seen any trace of Lydia in the house.
He left the house that day no more successful than last night.
For a third time, he visited Mrs. Younge. He had cajoled her, threatened her but still she refused to tell him, though her resolution he knew was beginning to waver. She had finally admitted to knowing that Wickham was in London and hinted that she did indeed know where he resided and that he had a girl with him, but she would not reveal his location.
On this visit, he had taken a modest amount of money with him. If threats would not loosen her tongue, he was sure that an offer of thirty guineas would.
"You are wasting your time, sir, coming here again. I will not tell you where Wickham is," said Mrs. Younge upon his first entering the room. But Darcy saw that the defiance in her eyes had diminished to be replaced with fear. Darcy made no answer. He paced the room and looked out the window at the figures passing by.
"How does your present situation go, Mrs. Younge?" he asked conversationally. "Letting lodgings, I believe, is not so profitable as being a paid companion or governess."
"I beg your pardon? What do you mean?"
"But I suppose that your pay while in my employ was inflated. If I remember correctly, a few objects from my house disappeared last year, never to be found."
"I know nothing of that!"
"The magistrate might not believe you."
Mrs. Younge paled.
"You have no proof."
Tired of all this beating about the bush, Darcy turned to her and placed the thirty guineas on the table between him and Mrs. Younge. She stared at the money hungrily.
Darcy spoke softly. "Mrs. Younge, I am willing to forget our past dealings, and will say no word of them to anyone. But I will know where Wickham is. I am willing to give you this sum - if you will tell me."
For a long moment, Mrs. Younge stared at the substantial amount of money. Finally, she spoke.
"He and the girl came to my house first. I would have taken them in but had no room for them. They have rented a small room not far from here, in Watling Street."
Finding some paper and ink, Darcy put these in front of Mrs. Younge.
"Write down the address and directions from here."
She complied. Darcy read it and put it safely in his pocket. As he did so, he noticed a small smile of triumph. He paused and said darkly,
"If you have played me false, madam, I can assure you that tomorrow will see you in a magistrate's court."
Mrs. Younge violently snatched another piece of paper and wrote down another address and directions. She slammed the writing implement down and glared at Darcy.
"I thank you madam, for your generosity," said Darcy, dripping sarcasm. He took the paper and placed the false one on the table next to the money.
He left the house, never to return again.
Now to find Wickham.
Chapter 36 ~ Preliminary Negotiations
The part of London where Darcy was this time was, if it was possible, even worse than the area where he had found Mrs. Younge. There was little light, except that which spilled onto the street from shuttered windows. Some looked around furtively in the manner of hunted men. Across the road, stood some scantily dressed women who beckoned to any man passing. Children, their faces dirty, impertinent and ragged, chased each other in the gutters. Once, Darcy had caught a young boy with his small hand reaching into his coat pocket. He had given the child some coins and told him to be on his way. On the face of every man, woman and child was an expression of desperation and hopelessness.
What a place to bring a young lady.
He was hiding somewhere near. The crowded neighborhood made it easier for such a man to hide himself away.
But the man had a young lady with him, a lady who had no claim on Darcy apart from being the youngest sister of the one he loved. And for his love's happiness, Darcy would go to the ends of the world to find Mr. George Wickham and Miss Lydia Bennet.
What he was going to do when he found the pair, Darcy did not know. He only knew that Wickham's desire for money was a weakness that could be exploited.
But he had to be very careful not to give Wickham any advantage or let him see any weaknesses in himself. If he did so, Wickham could get whatever he wished from him.
If they be married, then I shall give them as much financial support as I can. If they are not, then it shall merely be a case of taking Lydia home to her family.
In a dark alleyway, Darcy glanced down at the paper he was holding. If the directions Mrs. Younge had given him were correct, Harwood Street was at the end of the alley.
He continued to the exit. A woman passed in front of him and entered the building immediately to his left. He stood in front of the building and looked up, then left.
Is this the right place?
A wooden sign hanging on the front told Darcy the building was an inn. Seeing no other inns along the road, he glanced up.
There was a face at the window. The figure looked away, then stared directly at him. Soon, it was joined by another taller figure who took one look at Darcy then rapidly disappeared. The second figure was a very familiar one.
He walked determinedly to the door. He opened it and asked the startled innkeeper,
"I wish to see two of your guests, a man by the name of Wickham who brought a young lady with him called Miss Lydia Bennet."
The innkeeper gestured towards the stairs.
" O' course, sir. Up the stairs, last room on yer left."
Without acknowledging the man Darcy ascended the staircase. Finding the room, he knocked on it.
There was no answer. He knocked again, this time more firmly.
He could hear sounds of a disagreement on the other side of the door.
"It has been absolute ages since we've had any fun. I'm letting him in!"
The door was opened by Lydia Bennet. She was dressed for bed in a pink robe.
"Good evening, Miss Bennet," said Darcy in a detached tone.
"Mr. Darcy, what a surprise!" Exclaimed Lydia. "What are doing here?"
He ignored the question. "May I enter?"
"Of course." She stood aside as he walked past her then shut the door.
Wickham was standing in the middle of the room, wide-eyed but otherwise revealed none of the emotion he was undoubtedly feeling. Disheveled, shirt unbuttoned and traces of wine about his person he looked nothing like the 'gentleman' Darcy had seen briefly in Meryton.
Neither spoke for some time. Even Lydia somehow sensed the tension between them and stayed silent.
Darcy looked about the room. It was small, with a sloping ceiling. There was an unused fireplace, two chairs, table with wine on it and a folding screen. He noticed disgustedly, that there was only one bed.
"I trust you are well, Miss Bennet?" Said he, removing his gloves and hat.
"Yes sir, thank you."
None of them corrected his address to her. His hope rose; they were not married and he could take Lydia away from Wickham and that would be the end of the matter.
"And you, Mr. Wickham?"
"I am also quite well, sir." Replied he, never taking his eyes off Darcy.
"I apologize for this intrusion at this late hour, but I need to speak to Mr. Wickham about a rather urgent matter. I also need to speak to you, Miss Bennet," said Darcy.
"Of course. I am at your service," said Wickham mockingly. He sat at the table and motioned Darcy towards he other chair. Darcy did not move.
"Alone."
A look of fear appeared in Wickham's eyes. He slowly got up. Darcy opened the door and motioned for Wickham to precede him. Darcy closed the door.
In the corridor, Wickham looked at him.
"Where to now, Darcy?"
Wordlessly, Darcy gestured towards the stairs. He followed Wickham down.
In the common room, the rowdy, partly drunken crowd did not notice Darcy's presence. Seeing them, the innkeeper approached them.
"'Ow can I be of service to ye?" He asked wiping his hands.
"I require a private room, not for overnight, merely for discussion," said Darcy.
The innkeeper looked him up and down, then held out his hand. After Darcy gave him a coin, the man opened a door on the far side of the inn. Five men sat inside around a table holding cards. They looked up at the innkeeper's entrance and glared. The innkeeper barked at them and they hurriedly left.
"Thank you," said Darcy, entering the room behind Wickham. "Would you please see that we are not disturbed?"
The innkeeper grinned toothily and shut the door.
Darcy sat between the door and Wickham, who was seated opposite and watching him warily.
"What do you want with me?"
Darcy looked at him. "Our past has no reflection on this. I am here on present circumstance alone. I am not concerned about you, only for the young lady whom you have persuaded to come away with you."
"And why do you care for her, a girl so wholly unconnected with you?
"My reasons are my own. I should ask why did you convince her to flee with you when she has nothing to do with you or your debts."
"Chamberlyne was to go to Forster the next morning. I needed to leave at once, but there was a ball that evening and out of everyone there, only Lydia would have noticed my absence. I persuaded her to come with me on the pretence of an elopement, therefore allowing myself more time for my escape. Besides," smirked Wickham, "I was not at all adverse to having female companionship along the way."
Darcy looked at Wickham in disbelief. "And so to buy her silence, you made her and offer of marriage? I gave you more credit for cunning than that."
"Marry? Who said anything about marrying her?"
"You do not intend to marry her? Mr. Bennet may not be very rich but surely he could have done something for you if you were to marry his daughter."
"Marry one of the Bennet sisters? Of course not! I need to make my fortune, Darcy." Wickham scowled. "Some of us do not have the good luck as to have been born to wealth and power. I intend to gain it by marriage either here or in some other country." He paused and thought. "But I suppose if I had to marry one of the Bennet sisters, it certainly wouldn't be that feather-head upstairs. Elizabeth would have been my choice I suppose. Not quite so pretty as your sister, true but certainly with more spirit. But that would have been broken once I had my way with her."
In a flash, Darcy reached across the table and grabbed Wickham by his shirt. Wickham's eyes grew wide with fear, but then he gave a smirk.
"What's the matter, Darcy?" he said. "Don't like me abusing little Lizzy? No, I believe it was it the insult to your sister that has stung you."
"We are here to talk about your future, and nothing else," said Darcy through clenched teeth. "So keep your lying tongue silent and your filthy mind on the business at hand."
He threw Wickham back against the chair and breathed deeply, trying to regain control. It had actually been the reference to Elizabeth, but as long as Wickham believed it was the reference to Georgiana, who was safe and content at Pemberley, he had given no advantage to Wickham.
Calm, he turned back to Wickham sprawled in his chair.
"What do you intend to do?" he asked.
Wickham shrugged. "Resign my commission for one. Military life holds no interest for me any more. As for my future situation I confess I can conjecture very little about it."
Darcy tried his best to control his temper. "Can you even comprehend the trouble you have gotten Miss Bennet into? Do you not even care?"
Wickham looked at Darcy with an expression of indifference.
"I take no blame for her actions. She knew what she was letting herself in for when I told her. You cannot blame me for her decisions. The responsibility is hers alone."
"You accept no responsibility?" asked Darcy, shocked.
"Does it go against your principles, Darcy?"
Darcy shook his head disgusted. "Whenever I think that you can sink no lower, I find that I am mistaken."
"Now that you have found me I suppose I will have to leave London."
"Where would you go?"
"I do not know. I have nothing to live on. I cannot keep Lydia so she will have to be dropped off some place."
"You care for no one except yourself!"
"Of course. I am a survivor of many hardships - which are of your infliction!" spat Wickham. "If it were not for you, I could be living comfortably without this continual worry over money and live like you, a gentleman."
Darcy thought. He had been correct - Wickham's financial situation was something that could be used to make the man co-operate. But in the end, what he did for Wickham depended on Miss Lydia Bennet.
"What is your position at the present moment?" he asked Wickham.
"My debts, I suppose would be" - he calculated under his breath - "a sum considerably more than a thousand pounds. To me it is a source of worry - for man such as you it is merely a small matter."
Darcy shook his head. "I am prepared to help you."
Wickham froze. "What was that?" he asked.
"I am willing to help you. How I assist you will depend on Miss Bennet who is waiting upstairs. I will do my best to persuade her to quit her present situation and I will take her back to her family. I will discharge your debts, give you two thousand pounds and leave you to your own devices."
"What is the catch?" asked Wickham suspiciously.
"That you keep silent about your dealings with Miss Bennet. And you must never have any contact with me, Miss Bennet or any of our relations ever again."
"And if she does not wish to leave me? You have seen my powers at work, Darcy - you know what a hold I can have over an innocent lady who is easily influenced."
Darcy grimaced, but refused to rise to the bait. "Then we will speak some more." He stood up.
"Those are my conditions. If you decline, I will not help you and you will go to a debtor's prison. Do you accept them?" He held out his hand.
Wickham thought for a moment. He leaned forward and shook his hand, his eyes never leaving Darcy's.
"Then it is settled. You shall wait here whilst I speak with Miss Bennet." Darcy opened the door but paused before leaving.
"There is no where you can run to if that is what you are thinking," he said without turning around. "I will find you and besides, if you leave this room you have nothing but the clothes you wear. I advise that it is in your best interests that you co-operate."
"I wouldn't dare entertain such a notion," replied Wickham sarcastically.
Darcy left the room.
He did not trust Wickham, and so gave the innkeeper some money to make sure Wickham did not leave the inn. As an after thought, he sent a tankard of wine to Wickham.
The crowd in the common room had grown louder and rowdier. Darcy ascended the stairs and returned to the room.
Finding the door unlocked, he entered and found Lydia lying on the bed, a bored look on her face and her eyes closed.
"Miss Bennet," said Darcy softly in case she was asleep.
She was not asleep for her eyes flew open.
"Oh, so you are back? What took you so long? Where is Wickham?"
"He is downstairs," said Darcy shortly, closing the door. "Miss Bennet, we must talk."
"We do? What about?"
"Will you please be seated?"
She did as she was told. He remained standing, a grave expression on his face. He did not know Lydia very well, only that she was a flirt and was nearly as empty-headed as her mother, perhaps in some ways more so. Though she was Elizabeth's sister, she was nothing like her. He had never had to deal with such a person before had was at a loss at how to do so.
In the end, Lydia spoke first.
"Well? Why do you look so serious, sir?"
"The things of which I am to speak to you about are of a serious nature, Miss Bennet," began Darcy. "Your elopement - are you aware of the effect your action has had on people?"
"Is that all? I would not know, though I am sure all my sisters are green with envy. Mama is probably pleased to have one daughter married at last. She had thought Mr. Bingley would marry Jane but then he left and - "
Darcy stared at the girl, no more than sixteen, with an expression of amazement. She was totally ignorant of the seriousness of her action or what chaos it had thrown her family into.
"Miss Bennet, your family is worried sick about you!" he said cutting her off. "Your sister had to cut her journey short and return home at once when she heard about this elopement and if she is an example of your family's current state, your family is not well at all. Your father has come to London in search of you and I believe your uncle is to join him, if he has not already done so."
Lydia frowned. "Why should they be so worried? I am going to be married, doesn't that make them happy?"
"It is not only that feelings of your relations that is at stake here, your reputation - in fact the reputation of your entire family is at risk. I do not believe you fully understand the severity of your actions. This elopement is a scandal and the entire world will look down on you and your entire family for it." He took a deep breath. "But it is not too late - the situation can be redeemed if you return home at once and show repentance for your folly. If this is done I dare say your reputation will suffer no permanent injury. I will help you and bring you home. Your youth can be the excuse for such an error of judgement"
Lydia's eyes blazed. "An error of judgement? Is that what you call it - an error of judgement? Mr. Darcy, I have made the best decision I have ever made in my life!" She crossed her arms and looked defiantly up at him. "I am not leaving Wickham!"
Darcy stared at her. "Miss Bennet, I beg you to reconsider - "
"No sir, I am not leaving this room unless it is to go to the church to be married! I care not what my family thinks, or the opinion of the world. I am resolved to act in that matter which will in my opinion, constitute my own happiness, without reference to you or any other person. I do not want your help, I do not want to return home as Miss Bennet, only as Mrs. Wickham."
"Mrs. Wickham? You believe you are to be married to him?"
"Of course! He told me he loves me, why else would I have left with him? We will be married, I do not know when but we will be married."
"Miss Bennet, do you know what you are letting yourself in for, in a marriage to Mr. Wickham? Do you know his true nature? Miss Bennet, you will regret such a decision. It is in your best interests to leave this place at once and let me accompany you to your uncle's house."
"How dare you have the presumption to tell me what is in my best interests! They are my interests. But I suppose I should not be surprised. Lizzy was right. You are the most arrogant man alive!"
Darcy sighed. He did not want to think of Elizabeth right now, such a distraction was not right at the present moment. Nevertheless, he was hurt by what Elizabeth had said. He told himself that it was before they had met each other at Pemberley.
"Miss Bennet I apologize. I admit that my past behaviour to your family has given you ample right to see me as such. But my character is not under discussion. You do not know Wickham's catalogue of his past offences - I do."
"Perhaps not, but I do know your offences against him. You wish him harm and persuading me to leave him is just another of your plots. Well, sir, I shall not yield. I repeat, I am not leaving my dear Wickham. I am going to marry him from Longbourn, all my sisters will be my bridesmaids and be exceedingly jealous but Mama shall be so happy."
Darcy's heart sank.
"And this is your final resolve? You have considered that such a connection will disgrace you in the eyes of the world?"
"Yes."
"If that is so, I shall try no more to dissuade you. I apologise if I have offended you - my desire for you and your family's well being is the only excuse I can offer. I shall see that you two are married as soon as possible." He picked up his hat. "If you will excuse me."
Lydia smiled. "Thank you."
Darcy did not answer but left the room and went downstairs.
And so this is the way things will be.
© 1999 Copyright held by the author.