by Sarah Darcy
Chapter 6
Mr Darcy watched Elizabeth walk away with a heavy heart. What had he said to offend her? This wasn’t the first time he felt this way. He had wrestled with his feelings about Miss Bennet before, after he slighted her at the Netherfield ball last summer.
However, all that changed when he caught sight of her at the Christmas ball. Maybe it was the bowl of punch that made him more merry than usual, but there was something alluring about her. The fragrant beauty he coldly rejected in the past he now found pleasing to the eye.
Maybe this is how love happens in moments of denial and doubt. You try to forget the person and move onto new pastures, but find that your heart comes back to them.
Fitzwilliam watched Elizabeth disappear amongst the village community with one thought in his mind - would he ever see her again?
Chapter 7
‘Slow down Lizzy,’ Jane broke through a throng of village shoppers as Elizabeth quickened her pace. ‘Or I’ll lose you in the crowd.’
She caught up with her sister in the drapery shop. Mr Dickens, an elderly gentleman, who owned the shop, ushered them over to the counter with a welcome smile.
The last time Elizabeth purchased lace trimmings at his shop was for Jane’s gown at Christmas. Now she had the privilege to trim her own gown for the spring ball. But what ball? She had just cancelled her invitation. What a fool she had been to be so blunt with Fitzwilliam - had she done the right thing?
Her mind was in turmoil as Mr Dickens assembled various layers of lace across the counter. What should she do now? Tell him she had changed her mind? He was not the type of man to take no for an answer.
He bent over the counter with an enchanting smile. ‘I have just received a supply of very fine lace from Belgium.’ He draped a stream of ivory lace over her hands. ‘Feel the quality,’ Mr Dickens remarked. ‘Lace always gives a luminous glow to the skin.’
Elizabeth felt the delicate lace with her fingers. ‘Could we think about it?’ She looked back at Jane. ‘We have to consider if the lace will complement our gowns.’
‘Of course.’ He pulled out more lace from the draw and placed it across the counter. ‘Don’t take too long ladies.’ He walked over to the door to greet another lady who had come into the shop.
‘Lizzy if you don’t see any lace that you like,’ Jane mused after they had browsed through most of the laces.
‘You mean lace that we can’t afford,’ Elizabeth interrupted after noting the cost of each trimming they viewed.
‘Could I get some lace for my gown,’ Jane urged. ‘After all you may not attend the ball now.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Elizabeth reflected. ‘It’s all been a ghastly mistake.’
‘Pray sister.’ Jane could not understand her indecision. ‘What is it that ails you?’
‘Why someone like Mr Darcy.’ She let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Would invite someone like me to a grand ball at Rosings Park.’
‘Lizzy you put your self down.’ Jane retrieved a curl from her face. ‘Look at you. You’re beautiful, intelligent. You possess all the qualities that Mr Darcy would seek in a woman.’
‘But I have no capital or connections to attain such a gentleman of his class.’
‘I am in the same situation with Mr Bingley,’ Jane fingered a delicate piece of lace. ‘But I’m still going to the ball.’
‘And you should,’ Elizabeth urged. ‘For you will be the belle of the ball, not me.’
‘You will be too,’ Jane said. ‘There are some gentlemen who seek true love above connections.’ She noticed a slight blush on Elizabeth’s face. ‘Maybe Mr Darcy is one of them?’
‘Maybe I should reconsider my decision.’ Elizabeth pulled out a small bag of coins.
‘Shall we buy lace trimmings for both of our gowns,’ Jane pondered with a twinkle in her eye.
‘Don’t you think that is a little extravagant?’ Elizabeth returned a mischievous smile. ‘What would Papa say?’
‘Well we did not purchase any bonnets before,’ Jane remarked. ‘So that will release a little capital to spend on lace trimmings.’
‘True,’ Elizabeth looked down at the abundant lace trimmings before her.
‘Are you still attending the ball?’ Jane queried.
‘Why not,’ Elizabeth declared. ‘What will be will be.’
Chapter 8
Mr Darcy walked near the tavern towards the hunt in a downbeat mood. He had been looking forward to the spring ball at Rosings Park. But without Elizabeth Bennet’s presence, it would not be the same without her.
His thoughts became distracted by a group of folk musicians called ‘The Meryton Folk Band.’ They gaily sang scotch and Irish folk songs as they played upon a variety of instruments such as a flute, violin, mandolin and a guitar.
Fitzwilliam stood for a moment and listened to their upbeat songs. The music uplifted his spirits. He threw some coins into a hat and began to walk towards the hunt.
The sound of loud voices from the tavern startled him. He nearly collided with Ben the local inn keeper as he threw a drunken officer in his path. The unkempt man sprawled on the ground in a torn uniform with two brass buttons.
‘Stay out of my tavern,’ Ben screamed at him. ‘If you upset my daughter again I will shoot you.’ The officer cowered beneath the man with his hand over his face. ‘You’re not welcome in Meryton.’
Mr Darcy assumed there had been a misunderstanding. Surely an officer in uniform would not behave so abdominally. ‘Calm down young man,’ he demanded. ‘Let the officer redeem himself.’ The inn keeper glared at him. ‘I’m sure he did not mean to slight your daughter.’
‘Slight her?’ The stocky man stood in his path. ‘His manner was much worse than that.’ He stared him in the eye. ‘He man handled my daughter like a common serving wench. She is just 15.’
‘15.’ Mr Darcy thought about his sister Georgiana. ‘Of course I understand your distress.’
‘Fitzwilliam is that you?’ the officer muttered. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’
Mr Darcy was surprised that he knew his name as he could not place him.
‘Could you help me up?’ The young man stretched out his hand. ‘You can vouch for my character.’
‘Do you know this man?’ Ben asked.
Fitzwilliam narrowed his eyes. ‘Mr George Wickham?’ He was shocked by the change in his appearance. How did he become this way? All kinds of thoughts flew around his head.
Why wasn’t he stationed with his regiment up north? Had he slept rough since he last saw him at Christmas? If that was the case had his unruly behaviour extended to desertion?
‘Well.’ The inn keeper stood with his hands on his hips.
‘You are mistaken.’ Mr Darcy failed to acknowledge him. ‘He is no friend of mine.’
‘Fitzwilliam, you do know me.’ Wickham raised his hand. ‘Help me up.’
‘It appears this man does know you,’ Ben insisted.
‘He does seem familiar.’ Mr Darcy reluctantly pulled George up to his feet. ‘I
believe he’s an officer from the army.’
‘An officer indeed.’ The innkeeper stared back at him. ‘With the manner of a vagabond.’
‘I assure you.’ Mr Darcy tried to reason with him. ‘He will not cause any more offence towards your daughter again.’
‘Was that your daughter?’ Wickham feigned an innocent face. ‘My apologies.’
‘Get out of Meryton now!’ The inn keeper was incensed with his jest.
‘We must take our leave.’ Mr Darcy grabbed the officer and pushed him forward. ‘He will not darken your tavern again.’
‘So the regiment is hiring vagabonds now?’ Ben shook his head and returned to the tavern.
‘Will I ever be rid of you,’ Fitzwilliam fumed as they walked away. ‘Why aren’t you back with your regiment?’
‘I was up to a month ago,’ George replied dragging his feet behind him. ‘I took a few days leave to look up some old friends.’
&nb
sp; ‘Which turned into a few weeks.’ Mr Darcy glanced back at his dishevelled uniform with disgust. ‘Have you been sleeping rough?’
George looked down at his clothes. ‘I had a scuffle in the square yesterday.’
‘A fight?’ Fitzwilliam said sarcastically. George failed to answer. ‘You seem to attract havoc where ever you go. Why don’t you stay out of Hertfordshire for good?’
Mr Wickham opened his hand ‘If you give me a few guineas?’
‘More handouts I think not.’ Mr Darcy stopped in front of him. ‘To spend on drinking and gambling and no doubt the odd harlot.’
‘You get nothing for free in this world.’ George shoved his hand in front of him. ‘A few guineas would pay for a stage coach back to my regiment.’
‘What regiment?’ Fitzwilliam snapped. ‘They wouldn’t take you in now that you’ve dishonoured your uniform.’
‘I’ll give you another reason for a handout.’ Mr Wickham returned a hostile stare. ‘Georgiana could rest in her bed at night.’
Mr Darcy clenched his fists. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘It depends how much you care for your sister?’
‘Keep Georgiana out of this?’ Mr Darcy slapped him across the face.
Mr Wickham staggered back in a daze. ‘I should challenge you to a dual for that.’
‘I wouldn’t waste my gunpowder on a rake like you,’ Mr Darcy sneered as he walked back to the hunt.
Chapter 9
The sound of hunting horns signalled the start of the hunt. George leaned back on the wall of the tavern and glared at Fitzwilliam as he mounted his horse. As the foxhounds gathered around the horse Mr Darcy returned a look of disgust.
‘He has no respect for you,’ Joe Barton remarked. He was one of the musicians from the folk band who had befriended Wickham in the tavern. ‘And you being an officer too.’
George had told him about his deprived upbringing. He liked people to feel sorry for him - it was a good way of getting free ale and anything else he could get his hands on.
Joe leaned on the wall next to him. ‘Is that the same Mr Darcy you spoke about before?’ Mr Wickham gave a nod as he watched the hunt race across the green meadows that surrounded Meryton. ‘Isn’t he a cousin of Catherine de Bourgh from Rosings Park?’
‘That’s right.’ George returned a curious stare. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I used to work for her as a coachman. She’s a right madam.’ He watched the hound’s race ahead of the riders. ‘I took some time off for a funeral back in Cornwall. When I got back she had hired another coachman in my place.’
‘That’s callous,’ Mr Wickham responded. ‘Must be a trait that runs through the family.’
‘She had to put her traveling arrangements on hold because of my absence,’ Joe huffed with derision. ‘Can you believe that?’
‘Oh yes I can,’ George replied.
‘She owed me money,’ he snarled. ‘But I still got thrown out with no money. Fortunately the folk band where looking for another musician so my skills with the mandolin put some food in my belly.’
‘..Believe me her nephew has the same ruthless streak,’ Mr Wickham stated. ‘He would have treated you with the same contempt.’
‘I hate people like that,’ Joe sneered as the hunters chased after a fox across the countryside. ‘They think they can do what they want when they’re rich.’ He paused for moment. ‘I wish I could take that family down a peg or two.’
‘My thoughts too.’ An idea formed in George’s mind. ‘I hear there’s a spring ball at Rosings Park this weekend.’ He looked back at Joe. ‘Why don’t I join the Meryton Folk Band, so I can gain access to the ball?’
‘Why not.’ Joe rubbed the stubble around his chin. ‘I know that place inside and out.’
‘You must have read my thoughts,’ George responded with a smirk.
‘I would get my revenge by wrecking the place,’ Joe pondered. ‘Doing me out of my money.’ He let out a weary sigh. ‘But alas my wish will not be granted.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Mr Wickham queried. ‘It sounds like a grand plan to me.’
Joe shrugged his shoulders. ‘The servants would recognise me.’
‘Not if you wear a mask as a disguise. The folk band like to dress up and entertain their guests in disguise,’ George debated. ‘I heard from a wench in the tavern that Lady Catherine is away on a visit to Scotland.’
‘This scheme gets better,’ Joe declared.
‘She has also left Rosings Park in the safe hands of her nephew.’
‘But will she have a residence to come back to?’ Joe replied with a cunning smirk.
Mr Wickham laughed to himself. He was up for a bit of mischief. With the help of his newfound friends he would humiliate Mr Darcy forever, then reclaim Elizabeth Bennet’s heart once more.
Chapter 10
Mr Bennet’s face dropped when he seen Elizabeth unwrap a small parcel in the drawing room. ‘I hope my eyes don’t deceive me Lizzy.’ He stood at the dining room table with a look of despair. ‘But the sight of tissue paper fills me with trepidation.’
‘It’s only a small amount of lace Papa,’ Elizabeth assured him with a sideward glance at Jane. She did not mean to be rude, but it had taken them most of the morning to find a piece of lace they could afford.
‘We picked the cheapest lace in the shop,’ Jane said with an affectionate hand on his arm. ‘We know the sight of fine lace ails you.’
‘It certainly does,’ he replied with a worried expression.
‘We got Mama’s permission to buy some,’ Elizabeth said, gently handling the lace in her hand. ‘We’ve been invited to a spring ball.’
‘Have you now?’ He stared at them with a blank face. ‘I do not know about the purchase of lace or about a ball of any consequence.’
‘We thought Mama would of told you.’ Jane exchanged a cautious look at Elizabeth.
‘There’s a lot of things your mother never tells me,’ he huffed. ‘And it usually involves small amounts of capital that become very large figures in my ledger.’
Elizabeth gave him a heart warming smile. ‘I’m sure we could afford a small amount?’
‘Well don’t get a taste for it.’ The sound of girlish laughter made him look through the window. Lydia and Kitty were gaily picking flowers in the garden. ‘With five daughters to feed and dress it’s a commodity I can ill afford.’
‘I understand Papa,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I assure you no one else is aware of our indiscreet purchase.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ He fingered the offending lace with a look of disgust. ‘Expensive trimmings can lead to bigger purchases.’
Mr Bennet had to be strict with his daughters. There was no room for extravagant purchases in his daily audit. Rich ladies could afford to have gowns with ‘layers of lace,’ but not middle class ladies of limited means like his daughters.
‘It may be a small piece of lace.’ Jane marvelled at the delicate thread in Elizabeth’s hand. ‘But it gives the illusion of wealth.’
‘That’s fine if you’re the daughter of a lord,’ Mr Bennet huffed. ‘But we must exercise decorum in this house.’ He sat down with a weary expression. ‘You know everything must be accounted for in my ledger.’
Elizabeth’s initial excitement at finding a piece of lace at an affordable price was beginning to wane. ‘We did ask Mama’s permission,’ she appealed to her father.
‘Where is this ball?’ he pondered. ‘At the Assembley Rooms?’ He became distracted by more laughter from the garden.
Elizabeth looked over at Jane. ‘Why is he saying that?’ she whispered.
‘Look how fine the lace looks.’ Jane gently pulled her father’s hand towards the lace.
‘I don’t want to touch the offending item.’ He pulled his hand away. ‘I advise you to put it away this moment, before..’
‘Is that lace?’ Lydia shouted as she rushed through the door.
‘..All the bennet sisters want lace trimmings for the
ir frocks.’ Mr Bennet slumped back in his chair.
‘Kitty come at once.’ Lydia dropped her basket of flowers on the table leaving a trail of petals in her haste. ‘You must see what Lizzy has bought.”
Jane passed the lace to Elizabeth, but Lydia snatched it away. ‘Lydia,’ Jane protested as she tried to reclaim it.
‘Look Kitty.’ Lydia dangled the lace in her face. ‘We never get lace trimmings like this.’
She fingered the fine lace in awe. ‘Did you get that in Meryton?’
‘Of course we did,’ Jane replied in a downbeat tone. ‘And the lace belongs to Lizzy.’
‘No it does not,’ Lydia said with a tight hold of the lace.
‘It does belong to me hand it back.’ Elizabeth held out her hand. ‘It’s none of your business what I buy.’
‘It is my business,’ Lydia clutched the lace to her chest. She looked over to her father. ‘Why should Lizzy have all the lace?’
‘And Lydia and I none,’ Kitty interrupted.
Mr Bennet rolled his eyes. ‘I knew this would happen.’
‘Jane had lace trimmings on her Christmas gown.’ Lydia glared at Elizabeth. ‘Now Lizzy has purchased this lace to trim her gown for the spring ball.’
‘When do we get some lace?’ Kitty protested.
‘Kitty I can speak for myself,’ Lydia snapped. ‘You know I should be next to have some lace trimmings.’
‘It’s my turn to have some lace,’ Kitty retaliated. ‘For I am older than you.’
‘But I get more dances than you on my dance card,’ Lydia quipped.
‘That’s a horrible thing to say.’ Kitty’s eyes began to water. ‘You know that’s not true.’
‘Girls stop your bickering.’ Mr Bennet stood up with his hands in the air. ‘Give me that lace now.’
‘Why Papa?’ Lydia asked.
Elizabeth was getting tired of her protestations. ‘Lydia you must obey Papa at once.’
‘Yes hand it back now,’ Jane demanded. ‘The lace is not yours to have.’
‘Did you hear that,’ Lydia turned to Kitty. ‘They want us to have drab gowns so their gowns will look superior next to ours.’