Accusing Elizabeth

by Jennifer Joy

  Elizabeth sat up in her chair, all ears. Maddeningly, he did not continue, but sat there with a sardonic smile as if he would say no more, but leave them with half of the story… and just when it got interesting.

  Maria, who had been silent, broke the silence, "Surely, you do not mean Mr. Darcy. What business would he have with someone like the man you described? But I cannot think that Colonel Fitzwilliam would either." She rested her chin in her hand on her knee, contemplating the conundrum revealed before them.

  Slowly, savoring the effect each word had on his listeners, Mr. Collins continued, "Mr. Badger's business is with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Apparently, the colonel owes the gentleman Mr. Badger works for a great deal of money, and he has come to collect it. How the mighty do fall." He looked at Elizabeth with a haughty glee she knew was intended more for her than for Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  Elizabeth's heart sank for the colonel. He was a charming man, and his manners toward them had been impeccable. What would Lady Catherine think of her nephew when she found out that he had incurred debts?

  Mr. Collins sat with a pleased expression at his revelation. "So, you see, Colonel Fitzwilliam must be the thief. He is in need of a tidy sum of money, and it is no coincidence that the diamonds went missing during his visit." Folding his hands, he sat back with a self-satisfied look on his face.

  While Mr. Collin's finding certainly gave the colonel a motive to commit the crime, Elizabeth could not justify it in her mind.

  "What do you plan to do with this newfound knowledge?" she asked, curious to see if Mr. Collins had the audacity to accuse Lady Catherine's own nephew of the theft.

  "I took great care to verify his story. While I was at the tavern— the topic being of such a delicate nature and myself feeling uncomfortable on the premises, Mr. Badger was so good as to attend to me in his room— who do you think arrived but Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam? I was able to hear bits of their conversation through the curtain at my position at the top of the stairs. I felt at liberty to do so since the matter concerns her ladyship, who preoccupies herself with all things related to the good people in and around Hunsford, as well as her family. It was enough for me to verify that what Mr. Badger had said was true. Mr. Darcy paid him in full and practically threatened the man to make him leave."

  Charlotte said, "I can imagine so. Just think if word was to get back to Lady Catherine. You cannot tell her what happened."

  Mr. Collins shook his head gravely. "Oh, I do agree with you. What insight you show, Mrs. Collins. It is for the reason you so sagaciously expressed that I agreed to meet with Mr. Badger at Rosings tomorrow. I could never be the one to reveal confidential information. But if it came from him and Lady Catherine knew how it was found out, then I think it would bring her great comfort to know that it was me who discovered her nephew's secret and tactfully revealed it to her in the most delicate way I could arrange." He looked so pleased with himself, Elizabeth could only gape, astonished at the delight he took in his egotism. Surely, Lady Catherine would not appreciate him meddling in her family's affairs in the least— no matter his intentions. Nor would she appreciate him bringing Mr. Badger into her home. Elizabeth had the presentiment that whatever happened tomorrow, it would not end well— for Colonel Fitzwilliam or for Mr. Collins.

  Charlotte spoke warily, "It sounds as if you have already made arrangements with the man and you must see it through." She swallowed hard and looked nervously at Elizabeth.

  "Yes, all will be taken care of on the morrow. Her ladyship will be most pleased, I think." He pressed his fingers together in front of his chin and smiled greedily.

  She had to try to stop him. “If the debt was paid, then why do you consider him a suspect?”

  He looked at her like she were a simpleton. “My dear cousin, were the earrings not stolen before the debt was paid? Perhaps he sold them and used the money to cancel the amount.”

  Trying again, she asked, “Did you not say it was Mr. Darcy who covered the debt? He would have no need to sell an item of value to help Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  Mr. Collins waved her concerns away. “I am thankful to have married a lady who understands my reasonings, instead of putting them to question. Your lack of comprehension astounds me, cousin. Are you not known in your family as the clever one?”

  Elizabeth cringed at his insults, but they did little to harm her since she cared little of his opinion. She did care about the harm he could cause his own household, as well as the residents at Rosings. She did not know how she would manage it, but she had to warn the colonel. She could not send a note to him. That would be inappropriate. What else?... How could she send word?... Of course! Mr. Darcy. Many times she had chanced upon him during her morning walks. She would go out as normal in the morning in hopes of seeing him again. She would walk the entirety of the park if need be. Mr. Darcy and the colonel were not only family, they were friends. She could trust him to set matters straight.

  Mr. Collins, his news delivered, went into his book room to contemplate the glorious moment which awaited him on the morrow.

  The moment he shut his door, Charlotte spun around in her chair to face Elizabeth. "How did the pig escape?" she asked.

  It was not what Elizabeth had expected to hear. She would have been more prepared for some comment on her husband's plan for the morning, not the pig.

  Taking too long to respond, Charlotte repeated, "Lizzy, how did the pig escape? It could not have been on its own, for I checked that the latch was secure after the last time. There were no holes in the fence." She looked expectantly at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth looked at Maria, who had grown remarkably quiet. She shrunk into her chair, making herself as small as she could.

  With a sigh, Elizabeth said, "I let it out. I am sorry." She would not lie.

  "What? Whatever for?" Charlotte asked, thoroughly exasperated.

  Elizabeth looked at Maria again, but got no reaction.

  "It was a foolish thing to do, but Maria can explain the matter fully. I cannot tell you what crazy series of thoughts led me to do choose that particular means of delaying your walk into Hunsford, but I regret it very much." Trying to find a way to lighten the judgment on Charlotte's face, she continued, "How fortunate we were that Mr. Darcy came to our rescue." With a laugh that started out forced and ended real, she said, "I will never forget the contented smile on the pig's face as Mr. Darcy carried it back to its pen. Nor the dirty stains on the gentleman's otherwise perfectly white cravat."

  Charlotte chuckled despite her ill-humor moments before. "I do believe I saw the pig smile." She laughed some more. "Lizzy, I am still cross with you for what you did. Sometimes I think I will never understand why you act the way you do, but the pig was safely restored to his pen to grow fat in time for the winter. I shall laugh every time I eat a bite of ham in memory of this day."

  Charlotte went upstairs to rest, apparently having forgotten to ask Maria for a better explanation. So many things had happened so quickly since their returning to the house, she must have been quite fatigued.

  Maria, as quiet as a mouse in the room, looked questioningly at Elizabeth. "You let the pig loose for me?"

  Elizabeth raised her arms to the heavens in a dramatic gesture. "Do not ask me why, but yes, I did. Maria, you simply must speak with your sister this day. She will try to go into Hunsford tomorrow, and there are no more animals I can set loose for you. Nor would I do so again. Chasing after that pig was horrid." She looked forward to her bath. Her unmentionables stuck to her skin until it chafed. If Mr. Darcy thought ill of her before, he certainly thought worse of her now after seeing her in a dirt-stained dress and disheveled hair.

  Maria nodded her head. "I will," she said before Mr. Collins opened the door of his book room.

  Standing in the hall, he said, "Cousin Elizabeth, there was one matter of business so insignificant, it almost passed my mind entirely. There is a letter waiting for you in the village. Having hurried out on my mission for Lady Catherine, I did not have
the necessary coin to retrieve it for you."

  Of course he did not. Mr. Collins would no sooner spend his precious money on another than miss a dinner with Lady Catherine.

  Forcing a smile at his false generosity and importance, she replied, "Thank you for telling me. I will walk into the village tomorrow." She suspected that the letter was from Jane, but did not say so aloud just to annoy Mr. Collins. He looked at her expecting more information, but she only smiled back at him politely.

  Maria escaped from the room the moment Mr. Collins retreated back into his study. That was fine with Elizabeth. She had suffered enough drama for one day, and she much rather preferred to spend her spare minutes thinking about her dear sister Jane. Poor, heartbroken Jane, who paled away in London in the hope that Mr. Bingley would call. Oh, that horrid Mr. Darcy— sticking his nose where it did not belong. Why did he see the need to meddle with her sister's happiness?

  All of a sudden, she was not looking forward to her walk in the morning. Their recent conversation and the incident with the pig had softened her attitude toward him, but now that she remembered her grudge against the gentleman, she repented. He did not deserve her compassion. Only the amiability Colonel Fitzwilliam had shown during her stay near Rosings would make her seek out his company, so that she might save him from any embarrassment with his aunt. Only that. Nothing more. She never wanted to see Mr. Darcy again. And so it became a great source of frustration when the image of his friendly eyes and crooked smile invaded her mind time after time. She swatted the picture in her mind away like a pesky fly, but like the persistent insect, it would circle back around to assail her thoughts.

  Chapter 16

  Elizabeth had no reason to think that Mr. Darcy would choose to walk the same paths she preferred after their last encounter, but she could think of no other way to cross paths with him or the colonel otherwise. What a happy coincidence it would be to run into the colonel instead. Though the only times Elizabeth had seen him on the property outside the house had been on the back of his horse, she held onto the prospect with determined desperation.

  Elizabeth had as much desire to see Mr. Darcy as he probably did to see her. What would he think if he saw her? Would he turn and disappear into the trees? Was it very wicked of her to want him to be pleased to see her when she struggled to dislike him as her curiosity about him grew?

  Setting out early in the dewy morning, she smelled the damp earth and fresh blossoms in the air. In spite of the tension she carried due to the task at hand, the soft, perfumed breeze calmed her. Untying her bonnet, she let the sun soak into her from top to bottom and felt her worries melt away.

  She lost track of time surrounded as she was by the pleasant day. She began thinking of other ways to send some kind of warning to Colonel Fitzwilliam. Though she had determined to do so, she could not wander around the park all day. Perhaps she would have to arrange to practice on Mrs. Jenkinson's pianoforte with Maria after all. She had hoped to use that as a last resort, knowing full well where Lady Catherine's suspicions lay.

  Turning toward the road to Hunsford to retrieve the letter waiting for her, she saw a figure in the distance. She recognized him immediately. It was not merely his height which gave him away, but the confidence in his posture, and the slight slant to his hat.

  She held her breath when Mr. Darcy saw her and his gait slowed.

  Elizabeth stood in place, weighing her words in her mind and willing her pulse to calm itself. Her stomach full of nervous knots, she braced herself to face his disapproval at her news.

  "Miss Elizabeth," he said with a bow. He stood up tall, looking about him as if he would dash away now that polite formalities had been seen to.

  "Mr. Darcy," she said with a curtsy. "I have something of great importance to tell you," she said before he could depart.

  His brows creased, and he looked at her searchingly.

  Taking a deep breath and continuing, she said, "It concerns Colonel Fitzwilliam."

  The worried expression on his face deepened, but he said nothing.

  Taking another deep breath, she said, "Mr. Collins overheard his conversation with a man he saw call at Rosings. Mr. Badger was what he said the man's name was. Given the purpose of Mr. Badger’s claims, Mr. Collins feels that Colonel Fitzwilliam has sufficient motive to have stolen Miss de Bourgh's diamonds." Leaving out the worst details against her cousin, she focused on the colonel. "I daresay you will think even worse of my family on hearing this, but my concern for the colonel outweighs my own pride and your propriety."

  Mr. Darcy shook his head, his mouth pinched in annoyance. "If Mr. Collins had taken greater care to listen well, he would have heard that my cousin covered his debts with the man, who I hope has returned to London by now. His business with the colonel is through."

  It struck Elizabeth as odd that Mr. Darcy gave Colonel Fitzwilliam the credit of covering his own debt when Mr. Collins had said that it was Mr. Darcy who had gone with him to lend the money.

  "If only that were the end of the matter." She clasped her hands together, knowing how her news would dishearten the gentleman in front of her. "Mr. Collins is so convinced that Colonel Fitzwilliam is guilty, that he arranged for Mr. Badger to meet him at Rosings so that together, they might reveal the state of the colonel’s finances and his motive. Charlotte tried to dissuade him, but he is determined to find favor with your aunt by being the one to solve the mystery of the theft."

  She heard Mr. Darcy's sigh. "What time were they to meet at Rosings?" he asked, leaving out any cutting remarks against Mr. Collins.

  "They arranged to call at ten this morning."

  Mr. Darcy's chest heaved up and down.

  "Very well. I thank you for speaking to me about this."

  Feeling the need to justify her warning, she said, "I do not think the colonel did it."

  Shaking his head, his eyes piercing her through, he said, "Your warning is proof of that. Like you, I do not believe that even the worst want of money would cause him to act thus toward his own family. He is too honest for such treachery."

  Elizabeth smiled contentedly in agreement. It pleased her to know that the colonel had a friend in Mr. Darcy.

  "Miss Bennet," he said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick letter. "You expressed some concerns when I last called at the parsonage. Would you do me the honor of reading this letter?"

  She reached out to take it, confounded when her fingers shook.

  Before she could think of what to say or how to react, he had turned toward Rosings, walking in the long, purposeful strides she had grown accustomed to see.

  "Thank you," she called after him, uncertain if he heard or not. She did not know what else to say, but she did not want him to think her impolite.

  Darcy turned away from Miss Elizabeth. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips tempted him more than he could ever let her know. She was not his to caress, though he had been sorely tempted to brush the strand of curly hair away from her temple and rest his cold fingers against her hot cheeks so that his touch might cool her.

  Ugly, bitter jealousy had struck him with all its force as she warned him about Mr. Badger out of her concern for Richard. Did she love him? Did Richard love her? He had called at the parsonage several times, with and without Darcy. Had his motive been to spend more time in Miss Elizabeth's company? They had much in common. Both laughed easily and conversation flowed between them. They had many interests in common. How had he not seen it before?

  Now, he regretted having recommended that Miss Elizabeth verify the contents of his letter, and the facts he shared about Mr. Wickham and Georgiana, with Richard. Darcy’s sense of honor would never do anything to prevent their match if they truly loved each other, but he certainly would not do anything to promote it. How would they live? Richard could hardly maintain himself on his limited salary. How could he support a wife— especially one who did not have a large dowry to recommend her? Would Richard be so irresponsible as to make an offer for Miss Elizabeth? Darcy wou
ld make it his business to find out. If Richard did intend to propose to Miss Elizabeth, Darcy would have to think of a way to tactfully see that they had enough to live on. He would stay out of their life permanently. It would be torture knowing that he loved another's wife. She would forever be out of his reach. But he would hate himself more if he thought that she might suffer want when it was in his power to prevent it.

  His stomach clenched as he neared the house.

  First things first. He needed to warn Richard about Mr. Collins and Mr. Badger's intended meeting with Aunt Catherine. They would arrive soon.

  Elizabeth turned the letter over in her hands, contemplating what it meant. It was thick and heavy. She tucked it into her pocket to read after getting Jane's letter. No doubt, it had multiple accusations toward her family, Mr. Wickham, and justifications of his behavior toward Jane and Mr. Bingley. No doubt, he would chastise her behavior toward him. Only... his manners were not accusatory toward her. He had not seemed defensive in his behavior— certainly not so defensive as she had been toward him.

  The stump of a tree beckoned for her to end her misery wondering over the contents of the letter and sit down to read it. Who was she to argue against nature?

  Finding a comfortable position, she broke the wax sealing the pages together and read. It was several pages written in small, neat handwriting on the front and back of the paper.

  She held her breath until she reached the end of the first paragraph, then she devoured the entire letter. Her pulse quickened as line after blessed line answered the questions which had haunted her and explained away behavior she had once thought abhorrent and offensive. Pausing to catch her breath, she began again at the beginning, this time reading slowly and deliberately. Her heart filled with joy and sorrow as she continued.

  Every fault of Mr. Darcy's which she had exposed so ruthlessly four days ago was explained in clear, rational terms. He wrote in detail about his past with Mr. Wickham, as well as his recent dealings with that officer. It was not flattering— to Mr. Wickham especially, but also to Mr. Darcy. He shared information with her that, were it known by others in society, would cast his sister out of favor and denigrate his family name, which he held in such high regard. That he trusted her enough to share his family’s secret humbled her beyond measure. How foolish she had been to trust Mr. Wickham when he had done nothing to earn her confidence.