by D. L. Carter
Her concentration was so acute that she jumped when her mother entered the room, blessedly alone, Mrs. Phillips having departed.
“What are you about, Lizzy? So much noise. You have no consideration for my nerves. And after all you have done, by what right do you play so cheerfully? I will not have it, do you hear? You are in this house by my sufferance and will have none of your running about and nonsense.”
Unable to choose a comment to respond to Elizabeth stilled her fingers on the keys and waited. Interrupting her mother’s rants served no one.
“Now, foolish girl, you have a chance to redeem yourself. I want you to pay more attention to Mr. Wickham when he calls, though why he should look at you is beyond my understanding. Well, who can tell what men want? He has shown an interest in you and he should do very well as your husband.”
“Wickham? But mother!”
“No, miss, do not talk back to me. We are blessed that Mr. Bingley has not been driven away by all this gossip and I will not have Mr. Wickham distracting Jane. She is a good girl and will get Mr. Bingley, if she can, given the right opportunities, but you must help her. You owe it to us all to keep Mr. Wickham occupied until Mr. Bingley proposes.”
“I find I do not like Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, surprised at herself at the directness of her speech. Knowing her mother’s opinion of her, and knowing of the gossip accusing her of actions far worse than impolite speech, was strangely freeing. She no longer sought the good opinion of people she did not respect. She had already fallen as far as possible in their estimation so there was nothing further for her to lose.
Elizabeth straightened her back. “Mother, I shall not encourage Mr. Wickham. I am assured by Mr. Darcy that he is not to be trusted. He lies and misrepresents his relationship with Mr. Darcy and I will not receive him. If he should propose, which seems unlikely, I shall refuse him.”
“Oh, be still,” cried her mother, fluttering her lace kerchief. “I have no wish to hear of that horrible man. So proud. So disobliging. Truly I think Mr. Bingley would have come to the point by now if Mr. Darcy was not always distracting him.”
“That is not…”
“Silence,” hissed Mrs. Bennet, reinforcing her command with a pinch. “Make yourself agreeable to Mr. Wickham, I insist. Jane is for Mr. Bingley. He has the money to support the estate and if he buys Netherfield the two estates will be united. After that, all the family, your sisters and I, will be well looked after. You, with your husband serving as steward will increase the value of the estates. I will live out my life here in Longbourn and be very happy while Jane presides over the neighborhood from Netherfield. You have failed your family by murdering Mr. Collins. You will make it up by marrying Mr. Wickham or you will pack your bags and depart today.”
The rage that bubbled up within her surprised Elizabeth almost beyond speech. How dare her mother speak so, plan in this manner, when all her other plans have gone so far astray? She had not learned, never would learn, and it would not gain Elizabeth anything to comply.
Resting her hands on the keyboard Elizabeth stood and faced her mother.
“Madam, I shall not engage in any activity that I judge not to be right! I shall be the judge of what is in my best interests and what is not! Therefore, I shall not encourage a man I distrust to pay court to me and should he do so at your connivance, I shall clearly explain his attentions are not wanted.”
“Foolish, headstrong girl,” cried her mother. “I despair of you!”
“Yes, yes, I am, and I am because I must be,” cried Elizabeth. “You are the one who ignored my wishes, who forced me into a situation where I was required to reject an unwanted proposal and you should share the responsibility for Mr. Collins’ death.”
“You should have accepted him,” shouted Mrs. Bennet.
“You should not have encouraged him,” Elizabeth shot back. “If there is any wrongdoing surrounding his death, it is yours.”
“You will do as I say, Miss Lizzy, or I swear to you, when your father is dead I shall have you driven from the house. I will not receive you! None of the family shall. Think on that, Miss Lizzy, before you go and drive away your only choice for an honorable marriage!”
“Then I shall remain unmarried, for I find I do not like your way of getting married. Jane, I hope, will marry Mr. Bingley for the best reason, for love, but if he does not love her or she not love him then they should not wed. There is no happiness or satisfaction to be found in a loveless marriage – of which state you give us daily proof!”
“Get out!” shrieked Mrs. Bennet. “Get out of this house this instant. I shall not share a roof with you a moment more!”
“I shall not,” said Elizabeth. “This is my home, as my father tells me, and I shall remain. But if you do not wish to know me, that is acceptable to me. Good day to you, ma’am. As of this moment, I do not know you!”
And with that Elizabeth curtsied and retreated from the room.
Chapter Fifteen
“I am very disappointed with you,” declared Caroline the next morning. “How can you be so lost to what is proper and good?”
She was waiting in the corridor as Darcy emerged from his chambers. Her presence took Darcy by surprise and he considered, briefly, retreating to that safe haven. But in the mood she was in Caroline Bingley might attempt to follow him and thereafter he would not be responsible for his actions.
“Miss Bingley, good morning.” He nodded to the irate woman and passed on down the corridor. Caroline quick stepped to catch him up.
“Not only did you not come for the interview yesterday as you promised, but how could you, you took my poor foolish brother to pay another call on that family!” Caroline shook her head. “I do not understand it. You have the greater knowledge of society. You know what associating with that family will do to my brother’s reputation in society! We risk sharing their ostracism! Oh, what shall we do when the story gets out?”
“I believe Bingley addressed those concerns last night and I am certain he will stand by them today,” Darcy paused to face her. “Miss Bingley, I believe you must trust your brother to make his own decisions and bear those consequences.”
“But what of the consequences to me? To our family?” She caught his arm. “Please, Mr. Darcy, please help me convince him to give up this acquaintance. We must go to London before our name is damaged beyond repair.”
“I was present last night when Bingley suggested that you might depart at any time. Perhaps you could convince the Hursts to accompany you. Do what you will, I shall remain.”
“Come with us, I beg you,” pressed Caroline. “If you come, declare that the Bennet family is beyond the pale, he will believe you.” When Darcy only shook his head she continued. “Mr. Darcy, I fear that Charles might do something foolish. He is a good man, kinder than is necessary. His soft heart might move him to … to … to try and repair the Bennet family’s name and you know that they will only bring him down to their level.”
Darcy turned to face the woman. “Miss Bingley, I do believe I have pointed this fact out to you before, but the Bennet family are gentry. Your family fortune is from trade. Must I speak more directly? Their level is above yours even with the weight of this scandal upon them!”
Caroline stepped back, pressing a hand to her throat.
“I thought you had more respect for us,” she whispered.
“If you are not satisfied with my regard, Miss Bingley, please feel free to tell me so. My actions shall not change. I remain to give what support Bingley requires.”
Darcy turned and marched downstairs. Inquiring of the first servant he met, he discovered Bingley was already departed and gone to Longbourn. Darcy was not slow to follow.
***
“Well now,” said Mr. Bennet as he observed Mr. Darcy surrendering his hat. “We may not have as many visitors now we are in mourning, but we certainly we have them earlier.”
“I apologize for the imposition, sir,” said Darcy. “Should you prefer, I shall lea
ve and return in a few hours. I shall comply, if you would but inform my friend I am here to collect him, we shall ride out and plan his spring plantings.”
“No. No. I am delighted to hear some sensible conversation in my parlor. I may even join you.”
So saying Mr. Bennet escorted Darcy into the parlor. The ladies were already seated at their morning activities. Both Mary and Elizabeth had their noses in a book while Kitty plucked a bonnet bare of its feathers and Jane, poor Jane, sat trapped between Bingley and Mr. Wickham, her head turning back and forth as she tried to acknowledge both conversations. Mrs. Bennet looked on, uncharacteristically silent and stern. Darcy issued a general greeting before taking the chair nearest Elizabeth. She glanced up and met his gaze, smiling as she did so, a familiar light glowing in her brown eyes. The sight warmed Darcy’s heart. She was healing, despite the ongoing gossip. There was hope for her full recovery in spirit, if not in society.
He was proud of her.
Strange though the thought was, the sight of her recovery of spirit strengthened him.
The mother, however, gave a low growling cough in order to draw his eye. When Darcy looked a question to her she sniffed and turned away.
Darcy laughed softly. Cut! A direct cut and neatly delivered. Elizabeth sighed and mouthed a soft: “Sorry.”
“May I inquire as to your book, Miss Elizabeth?”
“A French primer. I am taking advantage of my free time to refresh my skills.”
“Indeed, I am impressed. Improving your mind with extensive reading.”
Darcy was delighted when a blush joined her smile.
“I remember you recommended the activity for young ladies,” she said.
“I am honored.”
There was a husky laugh from Jane’s corner. Wickham had delivered himself of a joke but was the only one who found it amusing. Jane was blushing and in a state of some discomfort, and Bingley was in a state of barely controlled rage, which meant the joke was likely not one acceptable to a true lady’s sensitive ears.
“It does a heart good to hear laughter in these rooms,” declared Mrs. Bennet.
“Indeed, Mrs. Bennet,” agreed her husband. “Our house has always been a haven of solemnity.”
She sniffed and did not reply. Darcy leaned closer as if examining Elizabeth’s book.
“How long has he been here?” he whispered with a tilt of his chin toward Wickham and Bingley.
It was not necessary for him to define which he.
“He arrived in time for breakfast, declaring he had been granted leave and immediately his mind turned to Longbourn … and Miss Jane,” whispered Elizabeth, turning the book and placing it on the table between them. “I am certain your French grammar is superior to mine, sir. How would you do this declension?”
Darcy recited the next few phrases before lowering his voice again. “And how is he received?”
“Jane is patient with him, but I told her what you said of him, of his lies, so she is careful.” Elizabeth looked around at another burst of masculine laughter. “I hope he does not misinterpret her polite manner for interest.”
“I do not know what he thinks. He has been a mystery to me for years!”
“Darcy, old fellow,” said Bingley suddenly. “A word, if you would.”
Darcy rose immediately. Bingley joined them, bowing to Elizabeth.
“Please excuse us for a moment, Miss Elizabeth. I will return your tutor instantly.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley.”
***
Once they were in the hall, Bingley paced down to an alcove near the servants’ stair and scowled back toward the parlor.
“That impossible man, Darcy,” declared Bingley with uncharacteristic heat. “I do not know how you bore with him for years.”
“Wickham again?”
“Darcy, what am I to do? He is here before me, comes when I am not about, and has, apparently, the approval of the mother. I know you do not like him, have reasons for casting off your childhood friendship with the fellow. I beg you, if there is a reason for concern tell the Bennet family. Have them send Wickham away. I cannot bear that they be imposed upon.”
Darcy’s sympathy was with his friend’s suffering. However a question must be asked before he had a reason to expose his family’s delicate history.
“Bingley, before we go further, I must know, or rather, you must know, what is it that you do here?”
“Do?” Bingley frowned his confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Come now, do not be obtuse. We have discussed this before. Have you clarified your course? Is it your ambition to return the Bennet family to their place in local society out of altruism or?”
“Or what?”
“Yes, indeed, Bingley. Or what?”
Bingley raised his gaze from the contemplation of his riding boots.
“She is an angel, Darcy. An angel. My heart aches when I am not with her and rejoices when she smiles at me. I want those smiles. Every morning on the pillow beside mine for the rest of my life.”
“Yes, indeed. Very poetic. Are your intentions honorable as well as poetical?”
“Very honorable.” Bingley gave a self-conscious laugh.
“However, if this is your ambition …” Darcy huffed out a sigh. Was it only a few weeks ago he had accepted, even agreed with Caroline Bingley’s assessment of the family as unworthy of an alliance with a man of substance in the world? Surely the events of the last few days put them further beneath consideration. Except… except … he glanced back toward the parlor. The door was open and he could hear Mrs. Bennet chattering enthusiastically with Mr. Wickham, trying to persuade him to move to sit with Elizabeth. Kitty was twittering away to the ever-present Denny. But Elizabeth was in his line of sight, dignified, sweet and strong. She turned her head to cast an inquiring look toward him and he found himself smiling in return.
“Darcy,” said Bingley, “is there something you wish to tell me?”
“No, Bingley, but you are correct. I owe our host a few words. If any words of mine can spare them pain then I should exert myself in their service.”
To their surprise, at that moment Wickham walked past them in company with Mr. Bennet. He cast a smile and a wink toward Darcy and Bingley just as the door of Mr. Bennet’s sanctuary closed between them.
“What do you suppose that is about?” demanded Bingley. “Oh, no! What if he is asking for my Jane’s hand at this very minute? What am I to do? Darcy, go to them.” Bingley clutched at Darcy’s arm. “Tell him something, I beg you!”
“Calm yourself, Bingley. Jane is of age. Her consent must be gained and, as you believe you have her heart, she will decline.”
“Only if she knows she has mine to turn to, has me as an alternative to that scoundrel. Excuse me. I must go.”
With that Bingley turned and hurried back into the parlor. In a few moments Darcy clearly heard Bingley addressing Mrs. Bennet.
“Ma’am, if you will permit. Might I have the blessing of private conversation with Miss Bennet?”
The shriek that answered him had Darcy cringing.
***
In short order Bingley and Jane were hustled down the corridor to the breakfast room. As she passed, Mrs. Bennet shot Darcy a sour look that she replaced with a patently false smile on her return.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Bennet, “if I might have a moment of your time?”
“I am at your service, Mrs. Bennet.”
“Come along here, please,” she waved toward the same alcove in which Darcy had met with Bingley.
“Mr. Darcy, I shall come to the point quickly. I have asked my husband to approach you but he says he will not. He is stubborn just to vex me but that is neither here nor there.”
Darcy said nothing. Really, what was one to say about another person’s marriage?
“So it falls to me to address you on an important matter,” continued Mrs. Bennet.
“Indeed.”
His suppressive tone did not affect Mrs.
Bennet in the slightest.
“It is Mr. Wickham I wish to speak about. I believe the two of you are well acquainted. He has been visited us often and is a comfort in this time of trial. It is such a relief to have loyal and devoted friends.”
She gave Darcy what was intended to be a withering stare. Unjust, in Darcy’s opinion. Had he not been visiting with Bingley?
“Now, you were so unfilial as to deny Mr. Wickham his inheritance. This will not do. Not do at all. Mr. Wickham has been everything that is kind and courteous and now I feel he only hesitates to seek a closer attachment to our Lizzy because he brings nothing with him. We, of course, have no objections and I hope to soon see him settled as the steward of Longbourn. My only hesitation is that Mr. Wickham, himself, has spoken of his longing to serve as a vicar. While I would welcome him as steward, his honorable ambition must be considered. If you were to just grant him a living, nothing excessive, a mere thousand a year would be enough, then he and Lizzy might be wed.”
His heart clenched painfully in his chest. This was worse, so much worse than an alliance between Miss Jane and the unworthy Wickham. This was of all things horrible. This was his Elizabeth! It must not be! It would not be! Not while Darcy had breath!
“Mrs. Bennet,” interrupted Darcy. “I would ask you to please excuse me but I shall assign those livings within my gift based on one very clear criteria. They must be given to honorable men! Lechers, degenerates and wastrels such as Mr. Wickham receive no preferment from me and I urge you not to give him consideration!”
“How dare you, sir?” cried Mrs. Bennet.
“The truth, madam. It is no more than the truth. George Wickham is a despicable scoundrel and I shall so inform your husband.” Hearing the door opening down the corridor Darcy bowed. “Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to have a few words with Mr. Bennet.”