by Jann Rowland
With those words, Elizabeth gathered her sisters, informing them of their need to return to Longbourn, and departed. Though she wished for Mr. Darcy’s proposal, she hoped that Mr. Wickham would never be a part of their lives. The man was unendurable.
Chapter XXVII
“Continually looming over me is not what I would call useful, Cousin.”
The voiced startled Darcy from his thoughts and he blinked, fixing the woman in front of him, feeling as if she had roused him from a deep sleep. It was heartening to note that Anne regarded him without anger, favoring instead the cynical amusement which had characterized her interactions with him since the day he and Lady Catherine had confronted her. Darcy shook his head to remove the confusion, hoping he would gain the wits to respond intelligently.
“I hope you do not find our interference officious, Cousin,” was the limit of what Darcy could muster at present.
“Officious?” asked Anne, as if testing the word. “No, perhaps not officious, though there are other unflattering words I could summon. It has not missed my attention that you seek to protect me; if I did not feel like a naughty child watched so she keeps out of the mud, it might be easier to endure.”
“It is not you that we watch, Anne,” replied Darcy.
“Mr. Wickham,” mused Anne, nodding her agreement. “Yes, I think I begin to have the measure of the man. He is slippery, I will grant you, and he seems to have all the confidence in the world in his possession of the necessary charm to do as he wishes.
“At the same time, I will also point out that his ardor seems to have cooled to a certain extent. Had I not had every confidence in his lust for riches, I might think he has lost interest in me, to say nothing of Miss Bingley.”
A scowled settled over Darcy’s countenance, and he gave his cousin one clipped nod. “That is my concern.”
As one, their gaze found Wickham from across the room. Standing as they were in Lucas Lodge along with the officers and almost every gentle family in the district, the sound of conversation flowed about them, the rooms so heavily populated that Darcy could not hear Anne’s voice unless she raised it. From what Miss Elizabeth had told him, this was typical for one of Sir William’s gatherings; the man was so fond of company that he could countenance leaving no one out of his invitations.
“Look at him,” said Anne, drawing Darcy’s attention back to Wickham. “The way he stands, I might almost think he was contemplating momentous thoughts, for his attention is all inward and he holds his cup of punch as if he has forgotten it.”
“I cannot account for his behavior,” said Darcy, noting the same of his former friend. “There is little he allows to stand in his way when he fixes on a woman to charm; his failure to charm some lady out of her fortune has not dimmed his confidence in his abilities even a jot.”
Anne snorted and said: “No, I do not suppose it has, considering his behavior when he first turned his enchantments on me.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Darcy, turning a sharp gaze on his cousin.
The way Anne laughed annoyed Darcy, though he kept his temper long enough to allow her to respond. “Do not suppose that because I informed you of my determination to avoid being charmed that he did not make the attempt. The man uses it as a bludgeon without even thinking about it, so ingrained is it in his personality.
“But I am curious. Do you know what provoked this change in him?”
“I do not know,” confessed Darcy. “It was not something I said.”
“That is interesting,” replied Anne. “Then perhaps he has learned something about himself, though how he managed it I cannot say.”
“That would be something new,” muttered Darcy.
“Yes, it would be at that,” said Anne with a laugh. “You must own, there is an unforeseen benefit to your increased attention to me in light of the threat of your former friend.”
When Darcy turned on Anne askance, she nodded to another side of the room and said: “My mother’s hope for our eventual marriage seems to have been raised as a result of your recent proximity to me. I know you will find that insignificant fact to be highly diverting, as do I myself.”
Then Anne fixed him with a crooked grin and moved away, leaving Darcy to ponder the truth of her words. Darcy had noticed Lady Catherine’s eager attention whenever they were together but had not thought it necessary to speak to her about it. Lady Catherine was adept at seeing what she wished to see—no protests on his part would induce her to see reason.
Fitzwilliam also did not know of the genesis of Wickham’s changed behavior. “I have noted his introspection myself, though if you are suggesting I provoked it, you are incorrect. Wickham appeared as serious as I have ever seen him when last I spoke with him. That does not mean he listened where he has never done so before.”
“Do you think he is planning something?”
“Is he not always planning something?” asked Fitzwilliam with a shake of his head.
“I suppose you are correct,” conceded Darcy.
“Do not worry, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam. “Our watching him serves to protect Anne, and I believe her claims of wariness are genuine. Let us not borrow trouble.”
Then Fitzwilliam grasped Darcy’s shoulder and walked away, his destination the side of the woman with whom Darcy had often seen him of late. Darcy could not consider that fact any further, for Miss Elizabeth joined him at that moment. Whenever she was near, Darcy could spare no attention for anyone else. Miss Elizabeth’s intellect was keen and her powers of observation prodigious, for she could see there was something concerning him and drew it from him in short order.
“That is curious, Mr. Darcy,” said she, her attention fixed upon the officer. “I wonder if my words had some effect on him.”
Confused, Darcy said: “You have seen Wickham of late?”
“The day after the assembly,” replied Miss Elizabeth, her eyes finding his. “My sisters and I happened across him in Meryton.”
Miss Elizabeth related what had occurred that day, and while it seemed innocuous enough, Darcy was interested to hear how she had berated him. The thought of this diminutive woman scolding Wickham diverted Darcy, for Wickham considered ladies such as she to be his for the taking.
“Then,” continued she, “I informed him his attitude and his tendency to consider others to be his playthings did not impress me. Then I informed him he would never find happiness if he did not change his ways.”
Though amused, Darcy forced himself to put aside her words and examine her account of Wickham’s reaction to better understand him. “Wickham listening to anything he does not like is beyond my experience, and he would not like a set down such as you describe.”
“Then perhaps there is something else at work. I assume that is why you have been looming over Anne—to force him to reconsider any notion of attempting to make for Gretna with her in tow?”
Darcy grinned. “Anne made that same point—she also used the word ‘loom,’ as I recall.”
“Then it appears our turn of mind is uncommonly similar,” replied Miss Elizabeth.
“Yes, it does,” replied Darcy, for the moment forgetting about Wickham in favor of the wondrous creature before him.
On the day it happened, Elizabeth had had no notion it was in the offing. If pressed, she might have asserted it was unlikely, considering the amount of attention Mr. Darcy was giving to ensuring Mr. Wickham attempted nothing with his cousin. Though she understood and did not begrudge his attention, there was a part of her, a small distant voice which whispered jealous murmurings and knocked her mood a little out of sorts.
That day, however, was different, for the ubiquitous presence of the regiment—other than the excellent Colonel Fitzwilliam—was absent, and with them, Mr. Wickham. The Netherfield party had come to Longbourn, and as Charlotte was also present, there was quite a crowd within Longbourn’s sitting-room. While Elizabeth might have been unaware of Mr. Darcy’s intentions, and though the gentleman had not meant to do anythin
g himself, later, in hindsight, she thought she could point to a specific moment that made his actions inevitable.
Sitting as she was, speaking with Anne, Elizabeth had thought nothing out of the ordinary was occurring. Mr. Darcy had approached Mr. Bennet as soon as he arrived, and as he had stood with her father for several moments in earnest conversation, Anne related some interesting stories to Elizabeth, including the behavior of the absent Mr. Wickham.
“I spoke with Mr. Darcy two days ago and informed him of a recent conversation I had with Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, then proceeding to explain the basics of the exchange with her friend. When she finished, she added: “Perhaps Mr. Wickham has never had his behavior explained in such terms before and it has caused him to pause.”
Anne laughed and rested a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “If anyone could explain the matter in terms blunt enough that even Mr. Wickham would understand, I declare it would be you, Elizabeth.”
“Perhaps he is not so terrible,” said Elizabeth. Then she grinned and added: “Now I sound like Jane.”
Again, Anne’s merriment rang throughout the room, drawing others’ attention to them. In particular, Mr. Darcy seemed to regard her with wonder, as if he had not heard her laugh in such a manner before—it was possible he had not—and Lady Catherine, who also appeared surprised, but not as happy with it as Mr. Darcy.
“Your sister’s attitude is refreshing,” said Anne. “There is little enough of seeing the best in others in the world, and yet she will not allow others to deceive her. It is a strange mixture, both the ability to see the best and to refuse to be drawn to the worst. There are few capable of it, I think.”
“It is well that you see it my way, Anne, for I consider Jane to be the dearest person in the world.”
After some moments of speaking together, they were joined by Georgiana, and Anne drifted away. That was when the situation changed, at least from the perspective of one who was intent upon having her own way. For Mr. Darcy finished speaking with Mr. Bennet and began making his way toward Elizabeth.
“Darcy, come and sit with Anne and me,” rang out the voice of Lady Catherine.
It was a simple statement, one Elizabeth might have thought innocuous. But it was not so to Mr. Darcy, who directed a hard look at his aunt. Anne, Elizabeth noted, shot him an apologetic grin.
“It seems Lady Catherine has fallen back into her old ways,” whispered Georgiana to Elizabeth. “It has always been thus—she attempts to put them together at every instance, hoping to browbeat them into surrendering to her desires.”
Before Elizabeth could respond to her friend’s words, Mr. Darcy responded: “On the contrary, Aunt, I thought that perhaps a visit to the back lawn would be just the thing, for the weather is fine.”
Lady Catherine seemed to see something in his demeanor she did not like, for she frowned. There was nothing she could say to oppose the plan, however, and she did not make the attempt. Soon, the younger members of the party rose and were preparing to take themselves outside. Elizabeth thought Lady Catherine, from the displeasure she directed at them all, might join them, but she remained inside, speaking with Mrs. Bennet, while the Hursts also elected to remain within.
Though the weather was fine, as Mr. Darcy had stated, it soon became clear that his purpose in taking them out of doors had nothing to do with that fact. Instead, while the younger girls congregated around the rough swing hanging from the branch of an old oak and Colonel Fitzwilliam obliged them by pushing all who wanted to use it, Mr. Darcy, throwing Elizabeth a significant look, captured her hand and dragged her away toward another part of the lawn. The amused looks she received from most of the rest of the party did not miss her attention.
“This is rather precipitous, is it not, Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth as he was leading her away. By this time, Elizabeth had something of a notion of what he intended, and while a woman might wish for a man to declare his undying love without being provoked by his aunt, the prospect of being engaged was appealing.
“I think it is not precipitous enough, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy.
When they reached a part of the garden around the side of the house from the swing where they could not be observed, he turned and regarded her. Tenderness brimmed in that gaze, as did longing, desire, love, devotion, and many other emotions Elizabeth could not name.
“It has crossed my mind that I have allowed this situation with Wickham to distract me, and I hope you will forgive me for my lapse.”
“That depends upon what manner your restitution will take, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth. “It has also occurred to me to wonder if your aunt’s ill humors will always rule you.”
The teasing tone of Elizabeth’s reply took any sting out of her words if Mr. Darcy had thought to take offense. That he had not was clear in his grin and in the manner in which he grasped her hands and brought them to his lips.
“I think, Miss Elizabeth, that we can lessen her interference, though I suppose there is nothing we can do to change her ways.”
“Then it is fortunate that Derbyshire and Kent are so far distant, is it not?”
Mr. Darcy laughed. “Yes, fortunate, indeed.”
“You have my complete attention, Mr. Darcy. How do you propose that we prevent your aunt from interfering in our lives?”
“By joining them together,” replied the gentleman. “It has been my greatest fortune that not only did Bingley lease this estate in a forgotten corner of the kingdom but also that my cousin assumed command of the local regiment. I cannot imagine I would ever have met you had these events not come to pass, and it would have been to my great detriment.
“I am not a masterful speaker, Miss Elizabeth. But when I speak, you know it will be from the heart. Thus, I must ask you to allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you, and I beg you to accept my proposal and consent to be my wife.”
“There is one thing with which I must disagree, Mr. Darcy.” At his quirked eyebrow, Elizabeth laughed and said: “When you say you are not eloquent. What woman could hear such exquisite words of love and not be moved by their eloquence? Yes, Mr. Darcy, I would be happy to bind my life to yours forever . . . and to put an end to your aunt’s scheming.”
A chuckle rumbled in Mr. Darcy’s midsection, and Elizabeth discovered she had no choice but to join him, little though she had any intention of demurring. When their laughter had run its course, they spent some minutes in close proximity, murmuring words of love and devotion, sharing little nipping kisses, Elizabeth’s first—she would never kiss another man!
At length, however, their privacy was interrupted. It could not be supposed that the rest of the party, whose company they had left in such a hasty fashion, would not wonder where they had gone. Then again, Elizabeth suspected they all knew what was occurring, and their patience to hear the news was likely at an end.
“I think they went this way,” Georgiana’s voice floated to them from around the house.
“It is just like Lizzy,” Lydia’s voice followed her. “She lectures us about our behavior and then leaves a party to be alone with a man.”
Elizabeth shared an amused glance with Mr. Darcy. Then they righted themselves, which only took a moment, turned, and began walking toward the voices, Elizabeth’s hand ensconced in Mr. Darcy’s arm. That was when the girls—including Kitty, Lydia, and Georgiana—came into sight around the corner of the house. The looks they received were alive with suspicion.
“Why are you here by yourselves?” demanded Lydia, seeming the most obtuse of the three girls.
“Is it not obvious?” said Kitty, turning an incredulous glare on her sister.
“Brother,” continued Georgiana, “have you obtained a sister for me at last?”
“A sister for you?” asked Elizabeth. “Is that what matters to you, Georgiana?”
“Oh, I suppose a companion for my brother is also desirable,” was Georgiana’s flippant reply. “But from my perspective, a sister is much more important.”
“I think perhaps it would be best to limit the contact between you girls,” said Mr. Darcy. “Your behavior is degrading by the minute.”
“Do not tease, Brother!” exclaimed Georgiana. “What news do you have for us?”
Though he attempted to present a stern façade, Elizabeth could see the exact moment when it cracked, leaving nothing but happiness in its wake. The truth of the matter revealed, the three girls let out cries of delight and crowded around them, congratulations flowing without hesitation. Above them, however, the sound of Lydia’s voice rang out.
“Two older sisters married! Perhaps I shall be out soon, after all!”
The amused glance Elizabeth shared with Mr. Darcy revealed their similar thoughts—whatever Lydia’s pretensions, there would be no early coming out for her. The happiness of the occasion, however, was such that Elizabeth had little desire to provoke the girl’s protests. Thus, she kept her own counsel, knowing her father would have something to say on the matter.
When the company returned to the house, everyone who had been outside already knew what had happened. Fitzwilliam, happy for his cousin, gave them both as hearty congratulations as he felt on the occasion, and he noted that most everyone else was equally delighted. Even Miss Bingley, who had pursued Darcy for many months, swallowed her pride and offered her felicitations; it seemed to Fitzwilliam the woman had prepared herself for this, making it easier than if the news had caught her surprised.
The drama, of course, occurred when they entered the house. For while Miss Elizabeth’s parents were as excited for the match as the rest of the company, there was one who did not greet the news with excitement. Fitzwilliam had known that Lady Catherine still harbored hopes that Darcy would “come to his senses,” little though her observations must have supported that hope.
In the end, she offered her congratulations along with the rest of them, though with much less enthusiasm. And the lady’s ability to turn a merry occasion into an opportunity to direct others was no surprise to anyone.