“What are you going on about?” said Elizabeth.
“I am going to meet Mr. Wickham. That is why we are walking. I need you to… stay back a bit, let us speak alone?”
“What?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Jane, what has become of you? Has the devil taken you and replaced you with some sort of changeling? The sister I know would never suggest such a thing. You sound as though you are Lydia.”
“Oh, I know.” Jane stopped, taking in a breath. “It’s a bit shocking, but George says that—”
“George? Who is George?”
“That is Mr. Wickham.”
“You are calling him by his first name?”
“Well, I will once we are married, so—”
“He has proposed?”
“Well, not formally. There’s a bit of a delay. He has some business he needs to formalize before he comes to talk to our father. But we will be married, yes.” Jane beamed. “Oh, Lizzy, I hope you can be happy for me. Please say you can.”
“I will never be happy for this. Jane, do you not see that he is telling you falsehoods?”
Jane’s entire body sagged. “Oh, no, do not be this way. For my sake—”
“He is spinning a tale to you about some business and about delaying his proposal, and that is all because he does not intend to propose at all.”
“Why would he do such a thing?”
“Probably to steal your virtue. We have been warned about men like him, Jane. We have all heard about rakes such as—”
“He is not a rake. He is a good man. He is going to be my husband. You are going to have to make peace with him eventually.”
“He won’t marry you. I heard him, with my own ears, say that he had to find a very rich wife.”
“When did you hear him say such a thing? Why would he say that to you?”
“He wasn’t saying it to me. I simply overheard it. He was speaking to someone else and didn’t know I was there.”
“To whom was he speaking?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you. This is all part of the confidence I promised to keep.” Elizabeth was beginning to think that the situation was too dire to honor that promise. She would swear Jane to secrecy, and Jane would not tell, and Mrs. Fortescue would never know.
“I am beginning to suspect that there is no confidence, and that you have made it all up.”
“Jane, you are not so stupid as this. Please, don’t fall under Wickham’s spell in this way. See through it. See what he is.”
Jane sighed. “I don’t believe there is anything to see.”
“Listen, you must see it. Observe him with other women,” said Elizabeth. “See the way he flatters everyone. And listen, I will break my word and tell you of this confidence. I saw Wickham with a woman in the hallways of Netherfield.”
“Miss Eliza!” called a voice.
Elizabeth looked up and there was Collingsworth, the kitchen maid, running towards them. Oh, yes. She had told Mrs. Fortescue to send her word. She turned to Jane. “One moment. We shall continue this conversation.”
“I don’t know if we should,” said Jane, looking annoyed.
“We shall.” Elizabeth turned from her sister and went to meet Collingsworth, who was a red-headed girl a year or two younger than Elizabeth.
Collingsworth looked positively excited. “Oh, Miss Eliza, I have a secret letter for you.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile at the other woman’s tone. “Perhaps don’t say that so loudly, then.”
“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry.” Collingsworth giggled. She pulled it out of her skirts and handed it over.
Elizabeth opened the envelope and read the short note inside.
Dear Miss Elizabeth Bennet,
After careful consideration, I have decided that I must take your offer. I cannot be gallivanting about in my condition and when I should be in mourning. If you are serious about learning the waltz and being part of the presentation, then come to my home in Meryton tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. If this suits you, send word back to me. I will have a servant meet with your Collingsworth this evening.
Regards,
Mrs. Fortescue
“Well,” said Collingsworth. “Do you have a reply for me?”
“I will have,” said Elizabeth. “I will bring it to you after luncheon. I’ll find you in the kitchens.”
“Marvelous.” Collingsworth tittered. “This is so very exciting.”
“Yes, it is a bit,” said Elizabeth, smiling.
She looked up to try to find Jane.
But Jane was nowhere to be seen.
And at that moment, the gray heavens above opened up, dousing her and Collingsworth with rain.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elizabeth found Jane on the porch of an old, abandoned cottage in the woods. She was perfectly dry, standing there with Wickham. He was so close to her that they were practically touching. The two were laughing.
Elizabeth was sopping wet, on the other hand, and she dashed up onto the porch and thrust herself between them. “Good morning!”
“Oh, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Wickham, winking at her. “I must say, you are rather lovely with rivulets of water streaming down your face.”
“My sister and I must go at once,” said Elizabeth. “This is hardly proper, a tryst of this nature.”
“It’s not a tryst,” said Jane.
“Certainly not,” said Mr. Wickham. “Why Miss Bennet and I both happened to be out for a walk at the same time and took shelter here together from the rain. What could be more natural?” He eyed Jane. “Your sister is lovely, but I imagine you are even more lovely when you’re wet.” His voice dropped to a guttural growl at the end of that.
Elizabeth didn’t like the sound of it. It sounded like a threat.
But Jane seemed affected by it, pleasantly affected. She gazed at Wickham with adoration and with something else, something akin to hunger.
Oh, dear, what was it that this man had done to her sister? To sweet and practical Jane, who would never do something so wicked as this?
Elizabeth wanted to take Jane by the shoulders and shake her. Of course, she wouldn’t do such a thing in front of Mr. Wickham. She didn’t want him to know how deeply he had ensnared her sister. Elizabeth turned on the man. “You may have ideas about my sister, but I assure you, you’re mistaken.”
Wickham gave her an appraising look. “Mistaken how, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I know what you are attempting to do,” said Elizabeth.
“Oh?” He chuckled. “What is that?”
“You have no scruples, and you are going to ruin my sister.”
“Elizabeth, heavens!” said Jane. “You mustn’t speak this way to Mr. Wickham.”
“Oh, your sister is a paragon of virtue, I’m sure,” said Wickham, smiling knowingly. “I could not ruin such a one as her. She would stop me from any trespass.”
“Of course I would,” said Jane, squaring her shoulders. “And besides, there is an understanding between myself and—”
“Oh, Miss Bennet.” There was a warning in Wickham’s voice.
“Well, I have told Elizabeth,” said Jane. “I’ve not told anyone else, but I keep nothing from her.”
Elizabeth pointed. “The rain is stopping. We must go home, Jane.”
“Perhaps she is right,” said Jane to Wickham. “We wouldn’t want to raise suspicions.”
Wickham took Jane’s hand and kissed it. “Until tomorrow then.”
“Until tomorrow,” said Jane.
Wickham trotted down off the porch and into the woods, whistling to himself.
Elizabeth waited until he was out of earshot. “Listen to me, you must not be alone with him. Why did you go off with him when I was talking to Collingsworth?”
“I left the house for the express purpose of meeting him,” said Jane.
“Jane, there is a woman named Mrs. Fortescue. She is the one we saw outside the ball with Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh, that woman? She seems to keep g
ood company, does she not? And she is a widow, who is paying no mind to mourning. She doesn’t seem to have a very good character, does she?”
“She is in a wretched position, and it is Wickham’s fault,” said Elizabeth.
“How could that be?”
“She is with child. It is Wickham’s.”
“What? Preposterous.”
“I saw them together. He admitted it.”
“Did he?”
Elizabeth thought about it. “Well… sort of.”
“What were his exact words?” said Jane.
Elizabeth grimaced. “All right, he refused to admit it, but it was obvious that she was stunned by this. She claimed he had made her many promises that he would marry her—”
“How could he promise to marry someone who was married to someone else? I don’t think her story holds up. She sounds like the sort of woman who might lie.”
“She was not lying. I am sure of it.”
“Oh, Lizzy, truly, you are usually more shrewd than this. I am usually the person thinking the best of everyone, and you are the one telling me that people are wicked.”
“If you had heard Mrs. Fortescue, you would know that she was not lying. And besides, you are being exactly the way you usually are in regards to Wickham, refusing to see his wickedness. Do you not understand? He has done this to another woman. He is going to do the same to you. You cannot be so positively idiotic as to not see that!”
“I’ll thank you not to insult me,” said Jane, flouncing down off the porch and back onto the path.
Elizabeth went after her. “You can’t see Wickham again. I won’t let you.”
“How do you plan to stop me?” said Jane.
“I shall tell our parents about what you’re doing, and they will protect you.”
“And then I shall tell them that you are receiving secret letters from Collingsworth.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Jane. Please.”
“Come now, Lizzy. If you betray me, I shall betray you.”
“But I wouldn’t be betraying you. It’s for your own good.”
“What was the letter about?”
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. She began to walk briskly through the woods, trying to think.
“Lizzy?”
“Oh, I have agreed to dance the waltz with Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield Ball in place of Mrs. Fortescue.”
“What? The most scandalous dance in the entire country? You think our parents will approve of that?”
Elizabeth stopped short. “Well, I had hoped to conceal it from them until the ball. They might be angry after I have done the dance, but they won’t be able to stop it. It will be done.”
Jane caught up to her. “We need each other. You must go and learn this dance, and I want to see Wickham. So, we shall pretend we are walking together and go off to do our secret activities.”
“I can’t leave you with him,” said Elizabeth.
“Lizzy, I’m not going to surrender my virtue to Mr. Wickham,” said Jane. “Not until we’re married. You can rest easy on that count.”
“What if he makes you?” said Elizabeth. “He seems a bit stronger than you.”
“He’s not like that.”
Elizabeth chewed on her lip. “Well, perhaps he’s not. He does seem the sort to prefer conniving to brute force.”
“Conniving? I can’t understand why you are set against him.”
“You can’t? I have told you everything.”
“Yes, but why are you believing this Mrs. Fortescue? You know who I think is more likely the father of her babe?”
“Who?”
“Mr. Darcy. Did we not see them alone together in the dark the other evening?”
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t think so. Mrs. Fortescue said—”
“Well, obviously she wouldn’t want to marry a gambler and a layabout,” said Jane. “Anyone would want to marry Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth clenched her hands into fists. “You are being so incredibly stubborn about this.”
“I promise you I will be careful when I am with Mr. Wickham. I will not let anything I am feeling to… overtake me,” said Jane, swallowing. “It may be difficult, but I know that I can overcome my inclinations. Of course, I could never…”
“Never what?”
“Do you want to go and learn your dance or no?” said Jane.
“You must swear,” said Elizabeth. “Swear to me on everything that we hold dear that you will be wary of him. That you will not allow him any liberties at all.”
“I swear,” said Jane.
“Oh, very well, then.” Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. “I hope I do not regret this. I fear I shall.”
* * *
Later that night, Elizabeth cornered her sister Mary.
“I wonder if I could ask you a favor,” she said. “A favor that would require your silence. You could not tell anything to our parents.”
“That sounds as though you’re asking me to do something sinful,” said Mary, giving Elizabeth a stern look. “I might have known that I couldn’t expect much better from the likes of you, Lizzy.”
“It’s not sinful at all. In fact, it’s in service of the greater good, protecting Jane.”
“Protecting Jane from what?” said Mary.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s not how this works. First your promise.”
“Well, I must know what it is if I am going to promise.”
“Promise first. Information after.”
Mary sighed. “Oh, very well. What is it, then?”
“You promise?”
“I do. I promise.”
“All right, then. Tomorrow, Jane and I are going to go on a walk. You must protest to come along. And then, when I go off to walk to Meryton, you must stick close to Jane and keep her from being alone with anyone you might happen upon on the path.”
Mary furrowed her brow. “Why are you going to Meryton?”
“That’s not important.”
“But I promised,” said Mary. “You must tell me everything now.”
“I am going to… to go shopping.”
“Alone?”
“No, I am meeting Aunt Philips there,” said Elizabeth.
Mary narrowed her eyes. “Why can’t you put that off and stay with Jane?”
“I simply can’t. Now, will you do it or not?”
“I think it quite odd you ask me to do this,” said Mary. “Either of the other younger girls would be happier to break the rules than I am.”
“Yes, but I can’t trust them, not like I trust you,” said Elizabeth.
“Truly?” said Mary. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes, Mary, you are quite trustworthy. Can I count on you?”
“Of course.” Mary smiled, looking satisfied.
But the next day, after breakfast, when Elizabeth and Jane were leaving, Mary was in the corner with Mr. Collins, and the two were having a conversation over an open bible. Both seemed very engaged.
Elizabeth declared the intention to walk loudly thrice, but Mary never looked up.
She was obliged to leave without her younger sister.
She and Jane walked together on the path for a while, until Jane said that she would stop and wait there a bit for Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth attempted to prevail upon her sister to come with her to Meryton. She was sure that Jane could watch her dancing lessons. She would not be in the way.
“No, I am staying here,” said Jane. “And furthermore, I have decided you are no better than me. You are off to learn some improper dance with Mr. Darcy, a very unsavory man. You don’t see me giving you lectures about guarding your virtue, do you?”
“Mr. Darcy has not shown one iota of interest in my virtue,” said Elizabeth. “Whereas Mr. Wickham has practically staked his claim on you.”
“I’m only saying that you shouldn’t be so high and mighty, that’s all,” said Jane.
* * *
When Elizabeth arrive
d at Mrs. Fortescue’s house in Meryton, she was shown to a sitting room where all the furniture had been pushed into a corner to create a vast expanse of dancing space. Mr. Darcy was already there, leaning against one of the couches, studying his pocket watch.
When Elizabeth was shown in, he stood up, slamming the watch shut. “Oh, you’re finally here.”
“Mrs. Fortescue is not here?” said Elizabeth.
“She will be in later, I assume,” said Mr. Darcy. “She has not been sleeping well. I think she is still abed.”
“You are a guest in her house when she is not awake?”
“As are you,” said Mr. Darcy.
“But you and I are alone,” said Elizabeth, looking at the door behind her, which had been closed by a servant. “It’s hardly proper.”
Mr. Darcy gazed at her with his dark eyes, and Elizabeth suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if Mr. Darcy could see through her skirts, and indeed, perhaps they were a bit thin, but that was the fashion, and she didn’t dare rearrange herself, because that would only draw more attention—
Abruptly, Mr. Darcy stalked past her and threw open the door to the sitting room. “There.”
She swallowed.
“I promise not to ravage you when any of the servants could walk by at any moment,” he said. His voice had taken on a gravelly quality, something that reminded her of Mr. Wickham yesterday, when he had been making comments about Jane’s being wet, and Elizabeth didn’t like it.
No, that was a lie.
She did like it, and her breath was coming a bit too quickly now, and they weren’t even dancing yet.
Mr. Darcy moved into the middle of the room. “The waltz is not a difficult dance. If you are a quick study, as you claim, it shouldn’t take long at all for you to learn.” He beckoned for her to join him.
Elizabeth swallowed again. She approached him, stopping at what seemed a proper distance from him to dance.
“Do you know anything about the waltz?” said Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Darcy's Indiscretions Page 25