Mr Darcy's Mistress

by Francine Howarth

  Jane’s smile confirmed Lydia’s thoughts. “Heavens; whilst I would give anything not be this way.”

  “Oh, but why?” enquired Jane, as they drew level with Lydia.

  “What am I to do with it, when all I want is to dance and enjoy myself?”

  “But when it is here you will think differently.”

  “I cannot imagine how,” said Lydia, leading the way to the drawing room with dancing steps and twirls aplenty. “I shall have no servants as you and Lizzy have, not unless I stay here. Though I could come and stay at Netherfield, and at Longbourn for several months at a time, and mother would delight in Wickham’s company when he’s able.”

  Jane looked somewhat aghast at Lydia’s suggestion “But you reside in Newcastle.”

  “I did, but since I have no money I am forced to accept the charity of others, and is it not acceptable to look upon my two married sisters for comfort in my time of need? Your husbands are not in the least short of a penny or two?”

  “We are afforded marital allowances, Lydia, and therefore duty bound to engage in sage purchases and to stay within our given allowance,” marked the mistress of Pemberley. “You have chosen time and again to overreach on the allowance Wickham affords you, which is quite unfair to him and to those of whom you fail to reimburse for goods ordered on account. And failing to pay rent on lodgings is outrageous behaviour, more so when you then up and take flight under cover of darkness.”

  “Oh Lydia,” exclaimed Jane, shock apparent, “how could you be so reckless?”

  Lydia flew to the drawing room door and thrust it wide. “Oh go in there and pull me to pieces. Say what you will about me. I shall not care, and I shall not stay here a day longer than I have to. I shall write to mama and ask that she speak with father and send me the fare for the mail to London and then to Meryton.”

  With that said she turned and fled to her bedchamber.

  “Oh Lizzy, we must go to her.”

  “No Jane. We shall not. We shall partake of coffee and we shall let Lydia dwell in misery for a goodly while. Whilst it is true we two are fortunate, Lydia cannot be allowed to assume Darcy and Bingley will provide for her.”

  “But Bingley would not see harm come to her. It’s not in his nature, Lizzy, nor is it in mine.”

  “Nor is it in Darcy’s, thus he has already settled her accounts by letter with enclosed a bank promissory for a young lieutenant, who not only provided supplies for her, he put her on the mail at his expense.”

  “Oh Lizzy,” said Jane, as they entered into the drawing room, “but we must still do all we can for her.”

  “Indeed, but her inability to budget according to her and Wickham’s means has to be addressed.”

  “Has Wickham failed to provide for her as he should?”

  “She confessed he left her with the largest share of his army pay, and she did with that as she did with monies I sent her. She cannot resist pretty purchases. Aside from which, she was quite brazen within her letters to the effect she awaited the contents of mine and the enclosed; the latter to pay her rent and that of trades people.”

  “Are you of mind she exceeds her expenditure and quite expecting you and Darcy to pay her outstanding debts?”

  “She does, and bears no sense of guilt in doing so, and do take a seat, for I am being a most ungracious host.”

  “Oh Lizzy, I know not what to say,” said her sister, in settling to a sofa.

  Seating self opposite she wished Lydia’s problems could be resolved as easily as imagined. “I do wonder how we are to overcome her thoughtless propensity to impose on others without any notion of wrongful behaviour. There is no sense of responsibility for her part in what has brought her to this level of dependency upon others charitable natures.”

  “I don’t suppose a letter to Wickham would help in any way.”

  “I think not, for he accepts her faults and forgives all her wrongdoings.”

  “Perhaps she assumes he forgives her in moments of heated male ardour, and might it be he still gambles and equally squanders his army pay and bears no sense of culpability for the pickles that befall them?”

  She had pondered that likelihood, and yet, Lydia had defended him at every turn. “It would be easy to blame him, though I truly believe he has endeavoured to improve his circumstances and provide for her.”

  “If you only have Lydia’s word on all that has occurred, how can we be sure it is the truth of the matter?”

  “Oh I don’t know, I don’t know, and perchance it is I who live in hope he has changed, and has at last found his way in life.”

  “Who is the topic of discourse, ladies?” enquired Darcy, as he and Bingley stepped to the room.

  “Wickham.”

  “I doubt it will ever be said of Wickham, he became a man of honour and all for the sake of love.”

  Bingley chuckled. “Come now, Darcy. Lydia is a fetching young woman and has a way about her, if a little forward at times. It could well be Wickham is overtly conscious of fellow officers and is more than aware of his prize possession, just as you and I are aware of ours.”

  “Indeed, but you are not Wickham.”

  Jane glanced across the divide, a rosy flush to her cheeks in response to Bingley’s declaration, and clearly they were very happy.

  All fell quiet for Mrs. Reynold’s tapped the door left ajar. “Sorry sir,” said she, addressing Darcy. “This came by post. It’s marked urgent.”

  “Ah, thank you.”

  As Mrs. Reynold’s turned to depart Rayle arrived with a tray laden with all the accoutrements necessary for partaking of coffee. Words were exchanged between the women, but Darcy stole the moment. “Be so good as to bring my coffee to the study.” He turned then to address all. “Forgive me. This requires my undivided attention. Though if you feel inclined, Bingley, do join me.”

  With that said he departed the room, the maid deposited the tray to a side table and Mrs. Reynold’s hovered in attendance and departed carrying Darcy’s cup. Soon coffee was poured for all, and Bingley moved to stand to the fore of the far window as the maid left the room and closed the door.

  “So Lizzy,” whispered Jane, her husband seeming as though having purposely distanced self, “are you any the wiser over Belle? I did enquire after her, and cannot say Bingley was blind to my interest, for he did seem unwilling to venture much on her account.”

  “Then I am no closer to unravelling the truth.”

  “For the moment no, but there are ways and means and I would suggest the housekeeper is party to gossip hereabouts.”

  “That much may indeed be true, but I would not have Lydia party to my fears.”

  “Yes, I see the difficulty.”

  “What is more, Mrs. Reynold’s is fiercely loyal to Darcy.”

  Bingley turned on his heels, bowed, and said: “I’ll join Darcy, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Of course,” replied Jane. “Lizzy and I have much to catch up with, as do you and Darcy, methinks.”

  He strode toward the door and placed his cup and saucer to the table in passing, a rather sheepish smile about him as he departed the room.

  “Do you think he suspects your enquiry as mere curiosity or of a more serious intent?”

  Jane cast a heartfelt smile. “Bingley tends to see the best in people and is not in the least given to assumptions. Although he has been led by others opinions in the past, he is better acquainted with false notions and implausible asides put about by his sisters and other people. He truly guards himself against nuance of imposed persuasions he determines as detrimental to persons known or otherwise.”

  “He does have a kindly nature, and—” Interrupted by Georgiana entering the room, the mistress of Pemberley ceased discourse, and said: “Jane, this is Darcy’s sister.”

  Jane hastened to her feet, and with a nodding curtsey the two women exchanged smiles, and Georgiana said: “How nice to meet you. And please, I am Georgiana, not Miss Darcy to you, nor to Lydia, nor to Elizabeth. It sounds so st
uff-shirt.”

  “And I am more than happy with Jane, rather than Mrs. Charles Bingley.”

  “If ever a man is approved of by my brother, I may one day face the tiresome business of becoming that man’s chattel.” Horror at her own utterance was instantly etched on Georgiana’s face. “I didn’t mean—what I meant— Oh Lord, have I put my foot in the mix?”

  What could she do but laugh, and say, “In the eyes of the law we are chattels,” which allayed Georgiana’s embarrassment, and Jane likewise sighed with sense of relief.

  “We are comforting chattels,” intoned Jane, equal in attempt to ease what could have become a frosty moment.

  “Darcy has oft said it is better to remain silent unless one has something of worth to contribute in discourse.” At the same time Georgiana spied the coffee tray and spare cups and immediately set to in upturning a cup and duly poured coffee. “I do wish I had the courage to be like Belle, and have no man telling me what I can and cannot do.”

  “Well, not all husbands press wives to conform to set rules of engagement,” said Jane.

  “No, not Bingley,” said Georgiana, “he’s too sweet natured. And Elizabeth, I think, is quite a match for my brother. I must say he is markedly subdued of late, though his disposition is no less brooding than ever it was.”

  She held her tongue not wishing to curb Georgiana’s new and forthright manner, and Jane ever the sweet and reassuring person of old duly coaxed Darcy’s sister with sense of sisterly affection. “Beg pardon, but who is Belle?”

  Whether it was ruse or not, Jane’s approach might well draw forth a little, if not more, about Belle.

  Georgiana duly settled beside Jane, her countenance quite relaxed and a dreamy look to her eyes. “Oh, she’s a good friend of Darcy’s, a long standing friend, one I am most fond of too. Belle and I have so much in common, and our love of horses is why Darcy assumed I would enjoy a lengthy stay at Farthingly. Aside from all that, Belle thought it sage for Elizabeth to have a little time to settle in this house before I rejoined the family fold.”

  Whilst Georgiana sipped at her black coffee, a darting glance from Jane across the divide was sufficient in sisterly understanding she would carry on in discourse, so that each could glean as much as possible in respect of the other woman. “Do you ride a great deal?”

  “Most days in good weather,” replied Georgiana, pausing between sipping coffee. “Though Belle is greatly given to curricle driving; a pursuit Darcy is also partial to.”

  “And did I hear correctly; Belle is unmarried?”

  “Yes, and I do wonder at that, for she is a most handsome woman of natural grace and fine features.” Georgiana tittered. “Oh, and not for wont of trying, for the Earl of Mayberry is in hot pursuit at present, and Belle is adamant he shall not win her heart, nor shall he take possession of Bonnie.”

  “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, for who is Bonnie?”

  “Bonnie is Belle’s darling babe, and the earl is more than taken with her, but of course Darcy is set against the earl enticing Belle to pay visit at his estate.”

  Jane’s eyes collided with her own, each aware of Georgiana’s closeness to Belle, but dare Jane probe farther? Perhaps not and better that the mistress of Pemberley, with a little knowledge of Belle, should take up the gauntlet; but on the point of posing subtle nuance of interest in the child, Georgiana thwarted any such notion by upping from her seat.

  “It has been lovely to make your acquaintance, Jane, but I promised Lydia I would return anon to her room. She seems a little down, and I thought it might be an excellent move to suggest she and I take a ride into town on the morrow. A turn around the shops will no doubt cheer her up a good deal. Such always works wonders for me in similar circumstance of feeling at odds with self, for as Belle taught me, never let a day pass without a moment of self indulgence, whether a man be the cause of one’s woes, or not. And I do sense it is Lydia’s husband causing present grief.”

  Quick in response, the mistress of Pemberley sought level ground for Wickham, though how to inform on Lydia’s propensity to fritter monies eluded her. “A little, but Wickham is not entirely to blame in this instance of Lydia’s misfortune.”

  “Is he not?” enquired Georgiana, her retiring countenance witnessed before and once again evident in wary expression. “I am of mind Lydia is unaware of all that occurred between Wickham and I, or—What I mean is, she talks most freely about him, and I do not mind in the least. It no longer bothers me.”

  Oh how cruel to torture Georgiana who, perhaps, fearing she had said too much, wished to escape their enquiring minds, and surely a little white lie would pass moral muster: “If my sister was ever aware of your former ordeal, and I think not at all, she will have forgotten, for Lydia is nothing but empty of mind unless talk is of Lydia and Wickham.”

  Jane nodded agreement. “Be assured Lydia will forgive all his past sins, and no doubt those he has yet to commit.”

  “Love is blind,” said Georgiana, “as I learned to my cost and almost too late.”

  “It may please you to know that Lydia is quite a trial to Wickham and leads him a merry dance on his financial pins, so perhaps, he has indeed met his match. If nothing else, Lydia is the equivalent of a terrier clinging to the seat of his pantaloons and nipping at his sorry hide.”

  Georgiana laughed. “Oh how that pleases me to hear Wickham has a wife who can lead him a merry dance. I love your sister all the more because of it, and shall purchase a pretty something for Wickham’s tormenter.”

  Need to ask overwhelmed the mistress of the house: “Will it prove difficult should he suddenly arrive at Pemberley?”

  “Not a bit of it. I feel nothing toward Wickham, and dare I say; it would be good if a visitation ever came to pass. Darcy would then be assured of my indifference to the man who would undoubtedly have ruined my life and forever stained Darcy’s unwillingness to engage in combat. Violence is an act Darcy abhors where friends of his would have challenged Wickham to a duel had their sisters fallen foul to his charming manner, and there are those who would have accused my brother of cowardice had they heard tell of my sorry tale. I do wonder if Colonel Fitzwilliam may have resorted to a more robust action had he known sooner of my plight.” She curtseyed, and hastened to replace her cup and saucer to the table. “I shall now return to inform Lydia of my proposed outing to town.”

  With the door closed and two sisters alone, Jane said: “Well, what a delightful young woman she is.”

  Elizabeth Darcy in the meanwhile had drifted in thought to the marked differences in Wickham and Darcy. “Do you think Wickham, Denny, and Colonel Fitzwilliam are heroes for donning regimental colours? It is vital to bear in mind this country is at war with France and invasion is a constant threat, and of course, Wickham was in the militia beforehand. Neither Darcy nor Bingley has sought to defend this country from Napoleon’s aggression. Instead they live a relatively comfortable existence, as do we, unlike wives of soldiers and sailors.”

  “I had not given a great deal of thought to the subject,” replied Jane, eyes downcast, “though it has been said by some young men, those who avoid the colours will be judged as cowards. I believe Lydia said much the same in one of her more fanciful moments of ponder over Denny, and how brave he was.”

  “Does it sound terribly selfish to say I hope Darcy never dons military colours?”

  “A little, but understandable.” Jane glanced down at her empty cup, avoidance of eye contact quite obvious. “In the last week or so, Bingley has considered the purchase of a commission within a county militia. I shall not attempt to deter him, and would feel very proud of him. At the same time I would fear his doing so, and his going away should it come to that would be another worrisome factor.”

  They fell to ponderous silence, the word coward hovering in like to a dark cloud.

  Nine

  ~

  Lydia had taken to her bed with a professed megrim though assuredly more to do with the fact she was a late ri
ser of morn. In the meanwhile Georgiana, Bingley, and Darcy had set out for a morning ride. She and Jane likewise had set out and about the grounds, and now taking a stroll along a bridleway. Albeit the breeze bore a cutting edge to it, they gloried in the autumnal fall nearing its close as leaves, in hues of bronze, burgundy, and gold, fluttered ever onward building drifts against hedges and walls. Underfoot the leaves crunched, the bared silver bark of birch stark in contrast to the blue grey of beech trunks heralding the dark days of winter drawing nigh. And whilst majestic oaks and elms were standing proud as sentinels along the way, hazel’s seemed as through grasping at clusters of neighbouring rowan berries, their branches intertwining to stand ground against encroaching holly trees, hawthorns, and blackthorn. Enchanted by the sight of berries of differing shades in abundance, hazel nuts too, wild enthusiasm befell them and they began gathering nuts trailing within reach, their bonnets utilised as baskets.

  Once they had picked their fill they turned about and began wending their way back to the house. Elizabeth then postulated on momentary ponderings “I rather had it in mind Bingley was more subdued than usual at the breakfast table.”

  “I fear he is somewhat at odds in what is best for me and the forthcoming event, and yet he feels he cannot stand by and do nothing when threat of invasion by the French is a daily worry to this country.”

  You cannot mean he is—”

  “But he is, and what is more, reports of American naval vessels spied off the French coast in the Mediterranean Sea made it to the newspapers. As he said to father, we are at war with America too, thus he is now truly serious of mind to join a local militia, though a conundrum in itself. You see, he is not altogether sure Netherfield is the house in which he wishes to stay over long.”

  “Is it not all that you wish for?”

  “I like it well enough, Lizzy, but Bingley is somewhat restless and has the notion ownership of an estate would serve us better. After all, Netherfield is but leasehold and I believe wedlock has caused him to look to the future and the inevitable circumstance of a family of his own, shortly.”