by Jann Rowland
Uncertain though he was that Wickham would ever be made to speak with any truth, Darcy decided Mr. Bennet had the right of it and allowed the subject to drop. It might have been a pleasant day had the situation been different. The late November sun was shining down on them, now past its apex, the warmth it provided meager, though the lack of wind allowed the day to remain pleasant. So concerned was Darcy for Wickham’s actions, the entire return distance to Longbourn he imagined his childhood friend hiding behind a tree with a rifle, to attempt a more direct approach to their longstanding enmity. Nothing happened, however, and soon they had reached the drive to Longbourn.
And there they discovered a commotion about the manor’s entrance. As the sound reached their ears, Mr. Bennet spurred his horse forward, his edginess about the morning’s events the equal of Darcy’s own. They covered the distance down the drive with alacrity, and they dismounted in front of the door to a strange sight. Rather than Wickham, as Darcy had feared, the tall figure of a parson could be seen trying to force his way past Longbourn’s butler and remaining footman, who were standing barring his way.
“I am sorry, Mr. Collins, but the master has left strict instructions to admit no one to the house.”
“The master!” sneered Mr. Collins. “When I have had my cousin put aside, I shall be the master, and you shall be let go without reference. Let me enter!”
“What is the meaning of this?” thundered Mr. Bennet.
The gentleman stepped forward, his baleful glare fixed on the parson, who started in surprise at the sudden voice of his cousin. While the situation might have been amusing in other circumstances, at present Darcy had little desire to continue to exchange words with Mr. Collins. Mr. Bennet, however, put himself nose to nose with his cousin
“What are you doing, Collins? Why have you returned?”
“I have come to claim what is mine!” exclaimed the parson, his shrill voice climbing the heights of the register. “You shall not cheat me. I shall have your eldest daughter as my wife, and your family may stay at the estate, but I will have her.”
“Are you out of your senses?” demanded Bingley. The normally genial man surged forward and joined Mr. Bennet in confronting the hapless parson. Collins did not seem to know where to look. “What kind of a man attempts to barge into another’s home, demanding the hand of a woman? What kind of parson are you?”
Mr. Collins sniffed with disdain. “I am the man who was cheated out of his inheritance by my cousin’s unjust and, may I say, dishonest scheme with his solicitor. But I shall not be defrauded! I know my rights!”
“It is apparent you know nothing,” said Mr. Bennet, his voice sounding like rocks rolling down a hill. “I have already informed you that you may seek redress with the courts if you feel I have misused you. The only result you will accomplish is to make a fool out of yourself—or more of a fool, as you already the most ridiculous man I have ever met.”
Mr. Collins drew himself up to his full height. “The only fool, it appears, is you. Did you think I would not retaliate when you have committed such a grievous sin of avarice I can scarcely comprehend it? You hide behind this action you have taken, and do not even deign to respond to my patroness’s letter. Instead, you send Mr. Darcy to persuade my aunt away from her just course of action.”
“Mr. Bennet did not send me to Kent, Mr. Collins.”
The parson whirled around and blanched at the sight of Darcy, who he had not realized was present. There was little Darcy wished to see other than the back of this man, so he could enter and ensure himself of Miss Elizabeth’s wellbeing, but as the estate belonged to Mr. Bennet, the pleasure of evicting Collins must rest with him. That did not mean Darcy could not inform the man what he thought of him.
“I went willingly, for I could not allow my aunt to be deceived into a proceeding which would not end well. And I would not see my friends, the Bennets, endure a pointless and frivolous lawsuit when it was in my power to ensure Lady Catherine never supported you.”
Eyes narrowed, Mr. Collins said: “I believe I begin to see the reason for your interference. Lady Catherine spoke of your interest in one of Longbourn’s daughters. You covet the estate for yourself, though I cannot imagine why a man of your wealth would attempt to defraud me of my inheritance.”
“Let us be clear on one matter,” said Darcy, amused the man had misconstrued the situation, “do not accuse me of attempted fraud, sir, or it will go ill for you. Furthermore, I am not paying any sort of attention to Miss Bennet. That privilege has been bestowed on my friend.”
Mr. Collins glanced back at a decidedly unfriendly Bingley, who said: “Your friend who has never been closer to planting a facer on another man than I am now.”
“So, you see, Mr. Collins,” said Mr. Bennet, “your accusations are meaningless, and your cause is hopeless. Personally, if I never see you again, it will be too soon. Now, I require you to depart and never darken my doorstep again.”
Not allowing the parson to say anything more, Mr. Bennet motioned the servants standing nearby to take control of his cousin. “See him to Longbourn’s borders and ensure he does not return. Collins, if you trespass on my land again, I shall call the constable.”
The parson did not cease his complaining, but the men about him were implacable, and they walked off, John, Longbourn’s largest footman, and David, one of the stable hands, escorting him.
“Do you think he is gone for good this time, Mr. Bennet?” asked Bingley.
“I know not,” replied Mr. Bennet. “But I shall follow through on my threat if he returns. At one time I believed having him as a correspondent would provide amusement, but I have since concluded that a little of Mr. Collins goes a long way.
“Now,” said Mr. Bennet, turning back to them, “if you will step this way, I believe your purpose for accompanying me was to bask in the company of my eldest daughters.”
The ladies were gathered together in the main sitting-room, engaged in various activities according to their temperaments. Even the youngest sisters were present, though Darcy thought they might usually be engaged in their lessons at such an hour. Darcy had no interest in them, nor in any of the other ladies. His eyes immediately found the person of Miss Elizabeth, who brightened at the sight of him, and he approached her, without regard for anything else.
“Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?”
“As well as I was when you left me here this morning, Mr. Darcy,” said she. “Can I assume you were unable to locate Mr. Wickham?”
“I suspect he has once again retreated, though I am not so certain he shall not return. This time, Miss Elizabeth, I strongly urge you do not put yourself in a situation where you may come across him alone.”
“You need have no worry of that, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth, grinning at him with amusement. “Unless something is amiss with my memory, however, I seem to remember my sojourn this morning was at another’s request.”
“The request shall not be made again,” replied Darcy. “In the future, I shall to visit you here or receive you at Netherfield—or at least I shall until Wickham has been captured.”
“Mrs. Bennet, girls,” said Mr. Bennet, drawing Darcy’s attention, as well as that of the rest of the room. Something in his mirthful glance at Darcy suggested he had heard his exchange with Miss Elizabeth, but he instead addressed his family. “If you do not already know, Mr. Wickham accosted Lizzy again this morning while she was out walking.”
There was no surprise among his family, indicating Elizabeth had already vouchsafed the matter to them.
“Though we searched for him, he remains undiscovered. As such, until he is apprehended, I insist upon you all refraining from putting yourselves in harm’s way. Until I inform you otherwise, walks on the estate, walking to Meryton, or even to Lucas Lodge, is forbidden.”
Darcy noted that Miss Lydia was about to protest, but Mr. Bennet expected it and stopped her before she could speak. “This is for your own protection, Lydia.
I do not mean to deny you Maria Lucas or your other friends, but I will keep you safe to the best of my abilities. Please do not force me to lock you in your room until you can behave.”
“I shall keep Kitty and Lydia with me,” said Mrs. Garret.
“Good,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Even walking on the back lawn may only be undertaken with severe restrictions. Call John to accompany you if you decide to go at all. When traveling by carriage, the footmen are to escort you bearing arms. I do not know what this Wickham will attempt, but I mean to make it as difficult for him to succeed as I can.”
“Do you think it will be long before he is caught?” asked Miss Elizabeth.
“It is difficult to say,” said Darcy. “I have informed my cousin, and I expect him to come when he is able. Finding no trace of Wickham leaves us with few clues as to his whereabouts, and his skill at remaining hidden in London renders it difficult to know when we will apprehend him. It is only a matter of time, but I cannot say how long that time will be.”
Darcy paused and turned to Mr. Bennet. “If you are willing to see to their lodging, there are several footmen I can call down from Pemberley, Mr. Bennet. The additional men would not go amiss especially as you would then have the numbers to mount a night watch as well.”
“I would much appreciate it, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet with a nod.
“I shall send an express before returning to Netherfield if you will provide me with paper and a pen.”
The second express of the day was soon written and secured in Darcy’s pocket, where he intended to seek out a rider when they went to Meryton. After a few more moments of conversation, Darcy knew it was time he and Bingley departed. Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth accompanied them to the door, Mr. Bennet walking behind them. As they walked, Miss Elizabeth paused and turned to her father.
“Papa, this visit Mr. Collins paid to us is on my mind. Do you think there might be some connection between him and Mr. Wickham?”
“I should not think so, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet. “They are two very different men and have had little occasion to meet.”
“Their presence in Meryton did overlap, if you recall,” insisted Miss Elizabeth.
“But their goals are the same—they both want an estate. I do not think they could form alliances under such circumstances.”
“In this instance, I must agree with your father, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy. “It is not beyond Wickham to deceive Mr. Collins into assisting him. Having said as much, I do not think they could be confederates. Wickham would have little patience for Mr. Collins’s foolishness, and Mr. Collins has been in Kent these past months. Though I do not know where Wickham has been hiding, I believe we would have had some word if he had gone to Kent.”
Though Miss Elizabeth seemed unconvinced, she allowed the matter to drop. With her father in attendance, Darcy was allowed little more than a kiss to her hand in parting. The circumstances were trying, but Darcy knew they would prevail. They needed to locate Wickham before he could cause any further harm.
Chapter XXVIII
Darcy arose the next morning, intending to spend the day at Longbourn. Unfortunately, it seemed fate decided there were other ways of spending his day, to his chagrin. While the morning had been pleasant, other than the constant worry over the situation, and due to the absence of a certain resident of Netherfield, he knew it would be much more pleasant at Longbourn. Before he and Bingley could saddle their horses and depart, however, a visitor joined them earlier than they might have expected.
“Ho, Darcy!” greeted his cousin as he entered into the breakfast room, dusty from his long ride.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam!” greeted Bingley with surprise. “To have come at this hour you must have set out early this morning.”
“Aye, well before six,” agreed Fitzwilliam. “This business of Wickham appearing in Hertfordshire again is so unlike him, I thought I would come and do a bit of poking around of my own. But I would appreciate a cup of tea before we set about it.”
“Of course,” said Bingley, gesturing to one of the nearby footmen. “If you need to break your fast, please help yourself.”
Fitzwilliam grinned and filled a plate to overflowing. “I troubled Darcy’s cook for a roll before I departed, but the ride was long and cold, and I am eager to be warmed by your excellent fare.”
“Do you think you can find what we could not?” asked Darcy. “I expected you to join us, but I hope you have not left Georgiana unprotected.”
“Thompson is there,” said Fitzwilliam around mouthfuls of breakfast. “Even I would be reluctant to attack him with the whole regiment at my back. I believe our Georgiana is ready to join you here if you were to extend an invitation.”
“It would be my pleasure!” said Bingley. “We are more than happy to welcome her here.”
“Then when I return to London, I shall gather her up and escort her back here. Now, please inform me of what happened and what you have done to locate our friend Wickham.”
Darcy took the lead in relating the events of the previous day, with Bingley adding a few observations of his own. While Fitzwilliam ate, he listened intently, interjecting a few questions, and when the account was complete, he fell silent, considering what he had learned as he finished his breakfast.
“There is something . . . something I dislike about this.” Fitzwilliam paused and shook his head, pushing his chair back from the table. “I cannot put my finger on it, but something about Wickham’s behavior bothers me.”
“The whole situation bothers me,” replied Darcy. “Wickham has never been the most courageous of men, and he was always eager to move on to the next target when his last did not yield the riches he desires.”
“Perhaps,” replied Fitzwilliam. “It is more than that, though I will acknowledge your point. Let us ride out, shall we? If you will show me the place he accosted Miss Bennet, perhaps we can start from there.”
Thus agreed, the three men soon departed from Netherfield, their mounts directed toward Longbourn village and the estate beyond. They set a quick pace, the ground flowing by, little conversation passing between them until they were cantering through the village. The manor house rose in the distance as did the track Miss Elizabeth had chosen for their meeting, but Darcy noted Bingley looking longingly at Longbourn and took pity on his friend.
“You may proceed to Longbourn if you wish, Bingley.”
Fitzwilliam laughed and shooed Bingley away with his hand. “By all means, to Longbourn with you, and your fair maiden. There is little enough chance we will find anything of value—Wickham has likely left the area, so I doubt we will require numbers to keep him at bay.”
With a grin, Bingley spurred his horse on, his voice floating back to them, saying: “I shall inform the Bennets of Fitzwilliam’s arrival.”
“Excellent man, that Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam. “Under normal circumstances, I would be inclined to make sport with him over his mooning after Longbourn’s eldest daughter. But since you are currently mooning after the second, I doubt my jests would be well received.”
“Let us get on with this,” growled Darcy. “I prefer Miss Elizabeth’s company to yours.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head and chuckled, following Darcy down the path. As their horses plodded on, Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy and eyed him with interest.
“It is strange, Cousin,” said he. “I might have thought your overt interest in Miss Elizabeth might bring Miss Bingley’s jealousy to the fore, but she was not in attendance this morning.”
“Just because you have not seen it does not mean it is not present,” replied Darcy. “The woman has grown more hateful the longer we have been here. But I have hope she now understands the extent of my distaste for her.”
“Oh?” asked Fitzwilliam. “Do you refer to something in particular?”
“Last night we exchanged words that should have left her in no doubt.”
If Darcy was honest with himself, he was not prou
d of the way he had behaved. A sense of unease, the tense atmosphere rendering him out of sorts and snappish punctuated the rest of the day after departing Longbourn. That Bingley was in the same straits was no comfort to Darcy, who had always striven to maintain a gentlemanly manner, regardless of the situation.
“Do you wish we had stayed at Longbourn?” asked Bingley late in the afternoon when they were waiting for dinner.
Darcy grunted in the affirmative, knowing Bingley would understand him.
“I know Mr. Bennet is adequately protecting them,” continued Bingley, “but I cannot help but thinking I would prefer to see to it myself.”
“The feeling is mutual, Bingley,” said Darcy. “And though Wickham’s recent target was Miss Elizabeth, it may as have been Miss Bennet to meet him on a secluded path. They are all in danger, and yet I still do not know why.”
“If they would not practice such unladylike habits as traipsing all over the countryside, they would not be in danger.”
Both men turned at the sound of Miss Bingley’s voice, and Darcy knew his scowl matched Bingley’s. Mrs. Hurst, eager to be the peacemaker, interjected before anyone could throw further fuel on the flames.
“Walking near one’s home cannot be deemed unladylike.” Mrs. Hurst turned to Bingley. “Perhaps you should spend the day there tomorrow, Charles. We are well here with Hurst and the footmen to protect us.”
The snort from Miss Bingley informed them all what she thought on the matter, but no one paid her any heed.
“Then we shall do that,” said Bingley with a nod
Darcy had no objection at all, his concise response informing her of that and his appreciation for Mrs. Hurst’s efforts. Though he had never cared much for the woman, she was providing a valuable check on her sister.
“I am certain your presence there will be agreeable to your ladies,” continued Mrs. Hurst.