by J Dawn King
“I cannot say that I have, Darcy.” As a soldier who had seen more of battle than most officers in the army, the desire for safety and peace was paramount. He saw in Darcy’s eyes a happiness that had been missing since the death of first his mother and then his father. “You are pleased about this arrangement?”
“I am.”
It was enough for Colonel Fitzwilliam. He would question his cousin no further. The obstacles Darcy and his Elizabeth would face from the ton would be overwhelming to a less resolute man and his bride-to-be. They would need to stand together to have any chance of happiness at all.
***
For the third night in a row, the Bennets gathered with friends and newcomers at the home of either Sir William Lucas or Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. Much was said of the future marriage of Darcy and Elizabeth. It allowed the matrons of the village to be preoccupied, which left Bingley to come to know Miss Jane Bennet in relative obscurity. It was a relationship that was steadily growing closer, and Elizabeth suspected an attachment would be formed fairly soon. The idea filled her with joy. She loved her gentle sister and longed for her happiness more than her own.
Elizabeth was not the only one who noticed the attentions Charles Bingley was paying to the eldest Bennet daughter. Caroline Bingley sat next to her sister, Louisa Hurst, in the most central spot in Lucas Lodge. It was perfect to see and be seen. Unlike Elizabeth, her thoughts on the possible marriage of her brother to Jane Bennet were volatile. She had plans for Bingley, which included Miss Georgiana Darcy. Should they marry, the amount of time Caroline would be in Mr. Darcy’s company would increase exponentially. He was not yet tied in marriage to anyone. There was still hope. Jane Bennet was a hindrance to her plans.
Caroline surveyed the room and noticed an officer paying particular attention to Elizabeth. His charm and attractive good looks were appealing to the eye. However, Caroline wondered at the man’s intelligence. After all, how could he possibly be distracted by Elizabeth Bennet when the Bingley sisters were in the room?
It occurred to Caroline that the engagement between Darcy and Elizabeth would end if the officer successfully compromised the lady while Darcy remained away from Meryton. This, in turn, would result in Charles losing interest in Miss Bennet. An effective plan, indeed! She rose from the chair and made her way over to the man.
Approaching from his left and slightly behind him, she whispered over the shoulder that was not currently leaning against the room’s outside wall. There were no others around and a thought flitted through her mind how similar a stance it was to Mr. Darcy.
“Pardon me. Lt. Wickham, was it?” Though they had been introduced two days prior, it was the first time Caroline had acknowledged the man.
None of his surprised showed on his face. He turned slightly to look closer at the woman. Wickham had heard the rumors of a twenty-thousand-pound dowry and had given consideration to pursuing her to gain possession of those funds. Nonetheless, the loss of Georgiana Darcy’s thirty-thousand-pound dowry was what drove his current purpose. He would have that and more by the time he finished with Darcy.
“I am Lt. George Wickham, Miss Bingley.” Deciding to play along with her, curious as to her motives, Wickham turned to face Caroline. “How might I be of assistance?”
“What is the nature of your interest in Miss Elizabeth, Lieutenant?”
Wickham was astounded she was so direct.
“Your reason for asking?” he replied.
“Are you a man who appreciates plain speaking, Lt. Wickham?”
“I am.”
Caroline moved in front of him, confident in her own beauty, feminine accomplishments, and poise. Whatever had driven George Wickham to seek his future in the militia was of no concern to her. Since birth, she had led her brother wherever it pleased her. The iron grip she had on the metaphorical ring through his nose, kept him under her firm control. This increased her sense of power. Caroline’s conviction in her abilities— in her appeal— convinced her it was only a matter of time and exposure to Darcy before he turned off Elizabeth and sought Miss Caroline Bingley as the most qualified Mistress of Pemberley.
She was not in love with Fitzwilliam Darcy. It was being Mrs. Darcy, the wife of one of the wealthiest and most pursued gentlemen in England that she loved. The name “Bingley” was still tied to trade. The name “Darcy” was well-established with a respect and prominence desired by peers of the realm. Caroline craved position and Darcy was her means to having what she wanted. She had always gotten what she wanted before. There was no reason for her to assume she would not meet with success.
“Do you know of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”
“I do.” Wickham was intrigued. “He is the betrothed of Miss Elizabeth, is he not?”
“For now.” The words almost purred as they came out of Caroline’s mouth. “I want him, Lt. Wickham, and I will not be foiled by a country upstart who does not know her place.”
Wickham, known for his ability to keep his facial features neutral during a challenging game of cards, could not help but respond. He let his breath out in a low whistle. This was plain speaking at its finest.
“Miss Bingley, I have but two questions for you.”
She raised her brow.
“The first: What are you thinking I might possibly do to help you gain Mr. Darcy?” He leaned closer until his mouth brushed the curls covering her ears. “And second: What would I gain from helping you?”
***
As soon as Richard left for the night, Darcy once again took up Elizabeth’s letter. He was proud of himself for his patience and self-control. It had been almost four hours since the last time he absorbed her words. Of course, having his cousin as a distraction made it impossible to actually peruse the missive.
After a quick sniff of the stationary, his eyes scanned the page. Her script was beautifully curved— like her.
Darcy closed his eyes and dropped the hand containing the letter to the arm of the chair. Tipping his head back slightly, he pictured Elizabeth in his mind—the Elizabeth from the glen. Her eyes—those gorgeous, gorgeous orbs, drew him in until he was her captive—dark and sparkling, with black lashes so long and thick that he wondered how her lids remained open with their weight. And her form. His arms ached with a longing he had not thought possible. Having held her closely several times, they currently felt an emptiness that pained him. Enough! He would see her tomorrow.
Opening his eyes, he re-read his first love letter— for that is what he considered it to be.
Dear Fitzwilliam,
I wish I had words to convince you how much your letter meant to me. Your explanation gave me enlightenment into what our future might be and I rejoice in the possibilities. Pray, allow me to offer my apology for my actions when we were last together. I now know I was hasty in my judgment. It would not surprise me to learn that my father informed you of my propensity to loathe being told what to do. It is a quality I am not proud of. I beg for your patience.
Are you accomplishing all you set out to do in London? Are you excessively diverted while there? We have been out each evening since your departure and are often in company with Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Bingley continues to delight the neighborhood with his amiability. I will not speak of the others.
The militia has arrived in Meryton, and with them came officers in their bright red uniforms with their polite manners and attentions to all of the available ladies. Mothers are promoting matches with their unmarried daughters while fathers are looking with scorn on those same men.
One gentleman, in particular, claims a close acquaintance with the Darcy family. He is very personable and speaks of your parents and your person with great fondness. I have concluded he is a second son for he has had to select a means of providing himself with an income. My younger sisters are quite attached to him and he appears to enjoy their company as well.
Fitzwilliam, I long to see you again. It is my hope the weather will cooperate and
we can walk arm in arm over the countryside, accumulating at least six inches in mud on my hems and your boots. We can then proclaim ourselves kindred spirits. Sir, I am quite shocked at how much I yearn for you.
Please be well. I can only add, God bless,
Elizabeth
Darcy could not contain the sigh that burst from his chest. He chuckled aloud, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. Elizabeth! What you do to me! Her making no mention of Caroline and the Hursts was telling. Caroline Bingley was a shrew who made no attempt to hide her condescension towards the Bennets. He would have to speak with Bingley about gaining control of her before they would be invited again to Pemberley. Elizabeth’s place was at his side—not Caroline Bingley. Darcy shuddered at the thought.
He pondered over the identity of the officer when he remembered Baron Alcorn’s son purchasing a commission in the militia. The family happened to be neighbors of Pemberley and their estate was small. Darcy had attended Eton and Cambridge with the eldest son, John. Simon was the younger son. Elizabeth was correct in her opinions. They were genteel and pleasant people. It was good Elizabeth was already meeting his neighbors. Again, Darcy smiled. Life was certainly turning out to be better than he had planned.
Chapter Eight
Charlotte Lucas had been Elizabeth’s dear friend for years. She understood her nature more than her sister Jane—and Jane and Elizabeth were close. At seven and twenty years of age, Charlotte was considered to be on the shelf. Her features were plain, though Elizabeth told her often she was pretty. Since no gentleman or tradesman, for that matter, had ever shown her interest, Charlotte realized Elizabeth looked at her with eyes blinded by affection. For years, Charlotte Lucas had proclaimed herself as unromantic. However, a passionate heart beat in her bosom and she secretly longed to experience her first kiss before she reached eight and twenty—in four more days. Having the militia in Meryton would possibly increase her opportunity, though none of the officers had sought her out thus far.
She watched Elizabeth move through the crowded room and realized Lt. Wickham had started following her, appearing to eavesdrop on all of her interactions. Earlier, Charlotte had noticed him tight in conversation with Miss Bingley. Whatever the subject, it appeared to stir emotions in both of them. Charlotte never would have imagined Caroline seeking out this sort of a man. However, Wickham was strikingly handsome.
Charlotte glanced over to where Caroline stood against the wall. She had not moved since the lieutenant had left her side. The angry glare she was now shooting at Elizabeth was filled with bitterness and hatred. Elizabeth, who Charlotte knew prided herself on her ability to understand all that went on around her, was completely unaware.
After watching Lt. Wickham shadow Elizabeth, she was surprised to see him suddenly return to Caroline, where they immediately entered into another deep, intense discussion. Charlotte moved closer to determine if she could ascertain their intentions. It was with horror that she overheard them. Within seconds, she knew the course of action she should take. It would take courage.
***
Elizabeth, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding behind her, searched the crowded room for Jane. She was not surprised in the least to spy her sister seated next to Mr. Bingley, heads bent together with not a word being spoken between them. Elizabeth’s mind went to her own budding romance with Mr. Darcy. She wished he was in attendance. Spotting her middle sister, Mary, seated in an alcove with a book in her hand, Elizabeth decided she needed the distraction and comfort of her most serious sister.
“Mary, are you enjoying your evening?” Elizabeth asked as she approached; her voice filled with laughter. She loved her sisters in spite of their foibles, as she knew they loved her. Mary was often overlooked by their parents and neighbors as she, according to their mother, lacked the beauty and wit of her older siblings and the vivacity of her younger sisters. Yet, she was tender at heart.
Mary looked over as Elizabeth sat next to her.
“I have a good book and I am left to myself so yes, I believe I am enjoying my evening.” Mary closed her copy of Fordyce’s Sermons, slipping the novel she had tucked inside it into her pocket before it was seen by anyone other than Elizabeth. “Are you pleased with this gathering, Lizzy?”
Though some misunderstood Mary’s tone to be one of piety, Elizabeth recognized that the more wild and unruly the two youngest Bennet girls became, the more proper Mary acted. It was an effort to distinguish herself from Kitty and Lydia. Like Elizabeth, Mary prided herself on being a keen observer of human nature. The eyeglasses she wore were to help her see the small print on the books she read. Her eyesight across a room was excellent.
Elizabeth sighed. “In truth, I would be happier if Mr. Darcy were here.” She reached over and patted the back of the hand holding the book of sermons. “With that said, dear sister, I am wondering if any of the officers have caught your interest. Someone, possibly, with charming good looks and winsome words?”
Mary had hoped nobody had noticed her looking at Lt. Wickham over the top of her books. Next to Mr. Darcy, George Wickham was the handsomest man she had ever seen. However, there was something about him that unsettled her and that was what inspired Mary’s notice. Wickham had a predatory look about him and his actions in trailing Elizabeth were worrisome.
“If you are speaking of Lt. Wickham, Lizzy, I must confess that he has displayed conduct that belies his claim to being a gentleman.”
Elizabeth was shocked. “Whatever do you mean?” She had seen no display to justify this opinion.
Mary was pleased to not only have her sister’s attention, she was gratified she had noticed something Elizabeth had not.
“The lieutenant has spent his time here at Lucas Lodge flitting between Miss Bingley and following you as you move about the room.”
“I see.” Elizabeth knew her sister to be astute, but her comment did not adequately answer her charge. “While I was unaware of him following me, it is not so unusual for a single man to seek out the company of young ladies. It would be rather odd if he did not, would you not say?”
“Lizzy! You sound like Papa.” Frustration dripped from her mouth. Mary understood her sister’s relationship with their father as they had many similarities, one of which was the ability to overlook the obvious in the pursuit of a bit of entertainment. Both held themselves slightly above others intellectually, believing they had keen understanding. Until the arrival of new neighbors at Netherfield Park, this had been of little concern. Her sister had redeeming qualities which made this particular characteristic of little merit. Now? It was time Lizzy realized the world did not revolve around their father’s study and wit.
“Is that a bad thing?” Elizabeth was perplexed. This was very unlike Mary to challenge her or to tease. She looked closer at her younger sister and realized she was serious. This was not a joke. “Mary, pray tell me your concerns.”
Before Mary could utter another word, Caroline Bingley started playing a reel on the pianoforte and the rugs were rolled back to provide room for dancing. Wickham approached and requested Elizabeth’s hand. She was unable to refuse. As she walked to the floor, Elizabeth looked back at her sister with her brow raised in confusion, hoping a look would clarify Mary’s intent. It did not happen. She noted that Mary’s consternation had not abated with Elizabeth’s partner, only increased. Curiouser and curiouser!
George Wickham did not fail to notice the interaction between the sisters and knew that somehow doubt about his character had been sown. Skilled at intrigue and practiced in lies and deceit, Wickham knew he had to present himself well to regain ground. He turned on the charm, but soon he could see it was not having its usual affect.
As the introduction to the dance began, Wickham bluntly stated, “Miss Elizabeth, there is a matter of grave concern I need to discuss with you.” He waited for her reaction, knowing he had piqued her curiosity. “You are aware, I am sure, that Miss Bingley has a long-standing friendship with Miss Georgiana Darcy, the sister of
your betrothed.” When Elizabeth nodded her head, he continued. “As her future…”
They were separated by the movement of the dance. Wickham could not be more pleased. It was like giving a nibble of food to a starving dog. He calculated that he needed to share a few more tidbits of conversation, and Elizabeth would eat right out of his hand. When he saw they were coming together again, he put on his most anxious look and continued. “As her future sister, you must know that to protect Miss Darcy…”
Again, they were separated. Elizabeth’s steps faltered. Moments passed and he watched her bite her lip as her eyes widened. Anxiety oozed from her. The dance would bring them together for a longer period. As she finally drew close she grasped his hand and held on.
“Please, you must tell me how to protect Miss Darcy.” Elizabeth was frantic. Mary must have noticed something during the lieutenant’s discussion with Miss Bingley that put him on alert. He, himself, was not a threat. Wickham must have been disturbed and worried about a family he long cared about. It was the act of friendship that caused him to act out of character. Elizabeth wondered how much he knew about the events of Ramsgate. Surely, as a friend of the Darcy family, he would be acquainted with the villain who attempted to cause Georgiana Darcy harm.
“Miss Elizabeth, we must speak in private.”
Elizabeth nodded her head in quick agreement. She wanted to get to the bottom of the situation and give assistance to Darcy’s family in any way she could. Georgiana had already suffered much harm.
“As soon as the music ends, I will escort you to the doorway by the refreshment table. Surely there is a library or a small parlor down the hall we can take advantage of. It will take but a few moments to share the needed information with you.” When he saw he had Elizabeth’s assent, he continued, “I will station a trusted friend outside the room so we will not be disturbed and there will be no talk from us having this conversation. I would never do anything to harm the interests of my best friend.”