by Jann Rowland
“You may wish to limit their contact, Darcy,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam in a staged whisper, one which he undoubtedly intended her to overhear. “I fear Miss Bennet’s impertinence might be catching.”
Laughter followed the company into the house, but Elizabeth engrossed herself in conversation with her new friend. The gentlemen would receive no attention from her!
Dining at Pemberley was a wonderful experience. The house was beautiful, and Elizabeth was able to see more of it than she had on her tour with her aunt and uncle two days earlier. And of even more interest to Elizabeth, she was able to see the rooms through the occupants’ eyes, catching a little of their own feelings for their home. It was truly a delightful time.
A delicious and plentiful dinner was served, and the company left the table that evening fulfilled by the multitude of tastes and sensations to which they had been treated. The visitors stayed for some time after eating, Elizabeth and Miss Darcy taking turns playing for the company on the pianoforte and engaging in the sort of lively conversation that those with true affection for one another often delighted in.
After the mortification of hearing her family disparaged by Mr. Darcy—unfortunately with cause, as Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge—to see the man speaking to her uncle with such contentment was a balm to Elizabeth’s soul. She knew what a good man Mr. Gardiner was, and though he inhabited a social sphere well below that exalted plain in which Mr. Darcy and the colonel moved, she knew he could be taken as a man of fashion to one who was not familiar with his profession. Neither Mr. Darcy nor his sister treated the Gardiners with anything other than respect and consideration, which warmed Elizabeth’s feelings considerably.
As for Georgiana Darcy, the girl had opened up considerably over the course of the evening, and though Elizabeth suspected she would never desire to be the focus of attention, Miss Darcy acquitted herself well and was soon speaking to Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner with calmness, if not perfect poise. Furthermore, in this young girl, Elizabeth saw a person who was well-mannered and proper, which was a true testament to the success of Mr. Darcy’s efforts to raise her in a creditable manner. It also showed a stark contrast between how a young lady should behave and how Elizabeth’s youngest sisters had always run wild. She only wished they could be more like this young woman.
The time came for them to depart, and they were walked to the door of the estate, but this time it was Mr. Darcy who escorted Elizabeth. And in this, it seemed as if he had some purpose, for he began to speak in a low tone almost as soon as they left the music room.
“Miss Bennet, despite my cousin’s teasing, there truly is a subject about which we should speak. May we visit you tomorrow morning?”
Elizabeth looked askance at him. She had put the matter from her mind during the course of the evening, but now her curiosity had been aroused. What could Mr. Darcy possibly have to discuss that involved her? He could not have intended to propose again, as she doubted very much he would bring his overly jocose cousin with him if he was. The situation was all very mysterious.
“My aunt has plans to visit an acquaintance during the noon hour,” said Elizabeth, deciding it was best to agree with his request. “I believe that we are free before that time.”
“Excellent. Then we shall call on you by nine tomorrow morning.”
Elizabeth nodded her assent, and within moments, Mr. Darcy was handing her into the carriage after her aunt and uncle. Farewells were exchanged, and the carriage started away for the short journey back to Lambton.
By the following morning, Elizabeth was afire with curiosity. Thoughts of Mr. Darcy’s behavior had flitted through her consciousness the entire night, and she had experienced a fitful rest punctuated with dreams of the man, most of which she could not remember by the light of day.
When morning finally arrived, Elizabeth rose and prepared to meet the two men, her mind still assaulted with her speculations of what they wished to discuss with her. But as the time wore on, these thoughts gave way to thoughts of the man himself. Mr. Darcy at Pemberley had been so far removed from the man she had known in Hertfordshire—or even Kent—that she almost did not know what to think of him.
She knew that she no longer disliked him, for his letter explaining his actions with respect to Mr. Wickham had driven such thoughts from her mind. And if he still had not redeemed himself with respect to Mr. Bingley and Jane, at least Elizabeth knew that Mr. Bingley was also somewhat culpable for being easily led. Furthermore, as Mr. Darcy was the sort of man who took his responsibilities seriously, it was likely that he also felt his errors keenly. She had no doubt that at some point he would acquaint Mr. Bingley with the true state of affairs. The matter would then be in Mr. Bingley’s hands—he would need to prove what kind of man he was on his own merits.
Elizabeth had considered asking Mr. Darcy about how Mr. Bingley was occupying himself—she had even half-expected him to show up at Pemberley, as she understood he was often to be found in Mr. Darcy’s company. But she could not. It would not be proper to ask about a man who was, after all, in no way connected with her.
The greatest consideration weighing on Elizabeth’s mind as she waited for the gentlemen to call was the issue of what Mr. Darcy’s feelings for her presently constituted. It was evident that he did not despise her or resent her for her acrimonious refusal of his suit. Such civility as she and her relations had been subjected to disproved that notion. But the real question was: what were his feelings. Did he still hold a tender regard for her? And perhaps more importantly, did she want him to hold her in such a regard?
It was all very vexing. Elizabeth’s feelings were in a muddle, and though she did not know what the gentlemen wished to discuss, she could not imagine that the subject would bring her any clarity. In fact, she had the sense that her feelings would be even more indecipherable than ever.
Finally, the hour arrived, and Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were ushered into the room. The group made the typical small talk common to any such meeting, and then the gentlemen began to discuss the matter at hand.
“The reason I am in Derbyshire, Miss Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “is because I was recently involved with a matter of the militias, and as I had a history with the young man in question, I was deemed the perfect choice to see to the matter.”
An awful premonition built up in Elizabeth’s breast, for she knew of only one man in the militia with whom she and the colonel were both acquainted.
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. “I can see you have comprehended my meaning already, Miss Bennet. Indeed, you are correct; I speak of one George Wickham.”
“Mr. Wickham?” interjected Mrs. Gardiner. “The young man you introduced us to at Christmas?”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth, a sense of embarrassment welling up within her. “I have since . . . learned that Mr. Wickham is . . . Well, he is not what he portrayed himself to be.”
“That cur has not a stain of honor,” said the colonel, his voice dripping with contempt. “He goes about leaving chaos in his wake and abusing the good name of my cousin, who had treated him with far more consideration than he warranted.”
Mr. Gardiner turned a shrewd eye upon Mr. Darcy. “Even in the short period of our acquaintance with the man, he had some rather uncomplimentary things to say about you, sir.”
“It is always thus,” said Mr. Darcy. Though Elizabeth could see that he was displeased, still his manner was that of resignation. “I shall not attempt to explain all of his misdeeds at present. Suffice it to say that he is not a man to be trusted.”
“And his conduct in the past few weeks is of particular import to you, Miss Bennet,” said the colonel. “Or perhaps more specifically, to one of your sisters.”
Her breath caught in her throat, Elizabeth looked at the colonel with horror. “Lydia.”
“Indeed, it was your youngest sister. But before you fear that some catastrophe has occurred, let me assure you that all is well. Unfortunately, Wickham has always had a great opinion
of his own cleverness and charm, and it did not serve him well in this instance.”
“I believe you had best explain what has happened, sir,” said Mr. Gardiner.
“With pleasure. You see, a little over a fortnight ago, Lieutenant Wickham disappeared from his encampment in Brighton. Such desertions are, unfortunately, far too common an occurrence. As I am acquainted with his commanding officer, and as Colonel Forster knew of Wickham’s complaints against Darcy as well as my connection with my cousin, he contacted me and asked for my assistance. Of course, I was only too willing to be of use.
“I interviewed some of his confederates within the regiment and discovered that he had made some statements to the effect that he was about to pursue some amusement at the expense of his old friend Darcy. And though he was not more explicit than that, it was not difficult to determine the identity of his target. Or so I thought.”
The colonel glanced at Mr. Darcy. “The unfortunate fact of this situation is the relationship between Darcy and Wickham and their level of familiarity with each other.”
“It is true,” said Mr. Darcy with a sigh. “Wickham knows me well, and I him.”
“But Lydia has no connection to Mr. Darcy other than a slight acquaintance,” protested Mr. Gardiner.
“Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Gardiner, her eyes upon her niece.
“Yes, Mrs. Gardiner, you are correct,” said Mr. Darcy. “I admire your niece.”
A silence descended over the room, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner each regarding both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy while attempting to assimilate that bit of information. Mr. Darcy was watching Elizabeth, his gaze containing a searching quality, while Colonel Fitzwilliam merely appeared amused at the situation.
Elizabeth did not know what to think. Mr. Darcy had used the present tense when speaking of his admiration of her. Did that mean his attentions to her were not over? Given the chance, would the man actually propose to her a second time? And as for Colonel Fitzwilliam, he was obviously aware of his cousin’s regard for her, and considering the tale he was weaving, she suspected that he had been aware of it for some time. What could it all mean?
“The piece you were missing, Mr. Gardiner, was my cousin’s regard for your niece. And as Wickham knows Darcy so well, he was able to discern that interest for himself. This episode I am relating to you is predicated upon that regard and Wickham’s knowledge of it.”
“Perhaps you should continue.”
With an inclination of his head, Colonel Fitzwilliam proceeded. “Once I had learned what Wickham had said, I was concerned for Miss Elizabeth. Knowing as I did of my cousin’s opinion of the young lady, I had some suspicion that it was actually Miss Elizabeth who was his target rather than her younger sister, of whom I knew little. I assumed that Miss Elizabeth would not be taken in by Wickham’s charms to the extent that he might ruin her, but as this behavior was beyond anything I had ever observed from him, I was fearful as to what he might attempt.
“As it turns out, Miss Elizabeth was never his target. I rode for Hertfordshire, alerting Darcy on the way there, and I sent trackers to find Wickham. Those men I sent after him discovered that Wickham was in London—most likely to prepare for his eventual arrival there with his prize.”
“When we arrived at Longbourn, we were admitted to see your father,” said Mr. Darcy, taking up the story. “There we discovered that you had left for the North Country mere days before. All our conjectures about Wickham’s intentions appeared to be wrong.”
“But then your father mentioned his youngest daughter’s aborted journey to Brighton,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Mr. Wickham meant to ruin me through Lydia,” whispered Elizabeth.
“That is correct,” confirmed Mr. Darcy. “Your father questioned Miss Lydia, and though she responded in a most begrudging manner, we eventually learned that Wickham had proposed an elopement with her before he left for Brighton. Miss Lydia obviously accepted. They were to go to Brighton, spend some weeks there to throw off suspicion and allow Colonel Forster to become complacent, and then leave for Gretna Green.”
Elizabeth was struggling. How could Lydia countenance such a thing? It was beyond comprehension . . . and certainly beyond what she had thought her sister capable of.
“But my father was right,” said Elizabeth. “Lydia does not possess the means to tempt Wickham. He cannot have intended to marry her.”
“You are correct, Miss Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. There was a grim shade to his countenance which she had never seen in the man before, but which spoke to his proficiency as a military officer. “Wickham never intended to marry Miss Lydia. In fact, when pressed, he described her as a ‘pleasing bit of muslin, ripe for the plucking, but a girl with whom it would be a punishment to spend one’s life with.’”
Elizabeth gasped, and the colonel smiled kindly at her. “I apologize for repeating such language, Miss Bennet. But I want you to understand the full measure of the man’s depravity.”
“Obviously, his gambit did not work,” said Mr. Gardiner.
The colonel grinned, his expression almost feral. “Wickham, as I said, has an overinflated opinion of his abilities. He left enough clues that we were able to follow them, and as he had no knowledge of our presence, it was a simple matter to spring the trap which led to his arrest. When he arrived in Hertfordshire a few days later, he attempted to coerce a maid at Longbourn to take a message to Miss Lydia. As the servants were warned of just such an occurrence, the note fell into our hands. The reply was sent and the assignation decided upon.”
A bark of laughter burst forth from the colonel. “I shall never forget his face when he arrived to find a very different reception awaiting him. He was taken into custody immediately and interrogated.”
Again, a look of sympathy crossed the colonel’s features, and he looked at Elizabeth with compassion. “In order to convince your sister of his perfidy, she was brought into the next room while he was questioned. There, we learned that Wickham’s plans were to spirit the girl away under the pretense of an elopement. He was to take her to London to the establishment of Mrs. Younge, a woman with whom Darcy and I are, unfortunately, well-acquainted. There, he meant to take his pleasure with the girl and then sell her to a brothel. Once that was completed, he intended to publish the fact abroad, taking his revenge upon my cousin, thinking that Darcy would lose the woman he loved because of her fallen sister.”
Tears welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes, and a sob escaped. “How can such evil exist in one man?”
Mrs. Gardiner moved to Elizabeth’s side and took her into her arms. Elizabeth relished the comfort—her mother had never been equipped to nurture, and her father had never been prone to physical displays of affection.
“And what of Wickham?” asked Mr. Gardiner, his face suffused with fury.
“I believe you will not have any further reason to concern yourself with him,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with an air of immense satisfaction. “His desertion earned him fifty lashes. The debts Darcy purchased and held over his head ensured his immediate demotion to common soldier and a transfer to the front lines in Spain. If the French are at all competent, one of them will put an end to George Wickham for good.”
A silence settled over the room, and Elizabeth sensed that they were all drained by the account which had just been related. Elizabeth felt lost. Wickham, who had once been a bright light, was now exposed as the worst of men, a coward who preyed on the young and innocent. And though her opinion of him had been corrected by Mr. Darcy previously, she had not dreamed that he could descend to such malicious revenge.
And Lydia was to be pitied. The girl had not an ounce of sense and had behaved very badly, but to realize that she was nothing more than a pawn to be used and discarded must have been difficult. That it had been necessary for her to learn such things in a harsh manner, Elizabeth did not doubt; after all, the girl would not have listened otherwise. But now her pretensions had been stripped away, surely leaving Lydia confused and heartbroken.
“I should have acted sooner,” said Mr. Darcy, the sound of his voice bringing Elizabeth’s head up from her aunt’s shoulder. “I should have made Wickham’s conduct known to all Meryton. He could not have preyed on her otherwise.”
“You are not to blame, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, the steel in her voice apparently startling him, as he looked on her with astonishment. “Blame Mr. Wickham for being such an evil man. Blame Lydia for being such an empty-headed flirt. But do not blame yourself. It is no sin to be the excuse a man uses to justify committing such evil.”
“That is what I have been telling him for days, Miss Bennet,” said the colonel. “The matter has been dealt with, and the miscreant has paid for his crimes. There is no other blame to be apportioned.”
“Mr. Gardiner,” said Mr. Darcy, though his eyes never left Elizabeth, “may I be allowed a few moments with your niece? I believe that we have some matters to discuss.”
A shrewd look of appraisal met his request, but Mr. Gardiner made no objections. Mrs. Gardiner drew away to arm’s length, looking into Elizabeth’s eyes, but she appeared reassured when Elizabeth directed a wan smile at her to indicate that she was well. Within a few moments, the Gardiners, in the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam, had retreated to the next room, though the door was left ajar for propriety’s sake.
When they were alone, Mr. Darcy stepped forward and dropped to one knee at her side, taking one of her hands in his own. He held her hand like it was the most precious and delicate piece of china, as though it would break if he was not careful.
“I am sorry if this is too precipitate, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, “but I was entirely truthful when I told you that I intended to seek you out again, even before this episode with Wickham reared its ugly head. Since that subject has already been put to rest, I shall not delve into it again. But I want to assure you that my affections for you are unchanged.