A Vision of the Path Before Him

by Elizabeth Frerichs

  “You do know that Kitty and Lydia will quiz you mercilessly the moment they realise that you are acquainted with Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth began.

  “The thought did occur to me as I watched your aunt’s interrogation,” Darcy replied. “I was surprised they have not done so already.”

  Elizabeth sent him a sideways glance. “That is because you were observing Mr. Wickham and Mr. Bingley and perhaps myself. Had you been observing Kitty and Lydia, you would have realised they were too occupied with whispers and giggles to pay attention during your introduction.”

  “Ah.”

  “And of course your reputation and manner do not lend themselves to questions from impertinent young women.”

  Darcy winced, recalling the source of her belief. He took a deep breath. “Miss Elizabeth, I have long wished to apologise to you for my thoughtless comment at the assembly.”

  “Oh?” Elizabeth said, her voice sharp-edged. “And what comment was that?”

  Darcy could not meet her gaze, but he straightened his spine and reminded himself that he deserved whatever censure she desired to heap upon him. “I do not recall the exact wording—”

  “ ‘Not handsome enough to tempt you,’ I believe,” she quoted.

  Darcy flushed. “When Bingley badgered me to dance, I took my poor temper out upon both him and you. I did not, at the time, imagine that you could hear my—insult. But you have several times hinted that you were indeed within hearing distance. Regardless, I ought never to have uttered it.” He gently brought them to a halt and held her gaze. “Besides being abominably rude, it was patently false. You are beautiful enough to captivate any man you choose.”

  A vivid red spread from Elizabeth’s cheeks down her neck. “I believe you need your eyesight checked, Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy smiled. “Merely correcting the falsehood I uttered.”

  Elizabeth stared at the ground. “I know I am not as lovely as my sister, Jane—”

  Apollo pushed his nose between them, urging them forward or perhaps sensing Elizabeth’s distress.

  Elizabeth chuckled.

  “Even Apollo knows that to be a falsehood. Come now, Miss Elizabeth, I am aware you often speak opinions that are not your own, but let us not have any lies between us.” He held up a hand as Elizabeth began to shake her head. “You have a different sort of beauty than your sister. That does not mean that you are less beautiful. Tulips and lavender are different flowers, but each are lovely in their own right.”

  Elizabeth pulled her arm from his and began to stride forward.

  “Have I offended you?” Darcy asked earnestly as he followed her.

  “I am—you are—I believe I have misjudged you, sir. And I do not like the idea that I have been so wrong. It has me questioning what else I am wrong about. I feel as though the earth has shifted underneath me.”

  Darcy hesitated. How could he explain his transformation without telling her of his vision? “You were not wrong.” He recalled her censure those many months ago. “I was proud and disdainful of others’ feelings. Perhaps some day I shall tell you how I became less so.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Proud and disdainful, yes. Your behaviour has not been the best since arriving in Hertfordshire. However, my behaviour does not always reflect my true character either—particularly when I am carrying a burden of anxiety. A man who can own his faults and apologise for them is not the person I made you out to be.” She sighed again. “I believe I owe you an apology as well, Mr. Darcy.”

  “I—I do not believe any apology is necessary,” Darcy stammered. After all, she had been the one person in his life brave enough to challenge his pride and selfish disdain. If she had not seen his true self and confronted him, he would not have changed. Nor did he miss the fact that she had turned the conversation away from talk of her beauty. It would take time to heal the wounds of a lifetime, wounds her mother and others had inflicted that he had only added to, but he did not intend to cease reminding her of her beauty until she bade him stop . . . although perhaps he would allow her to regain her composure first!

  “Perhaps we will have to agree to disagree on this matter.”

  “If you wish to apologise, you may do so,” Darcy said carefully. “However, I am grateful that you have always seen my pride and refused to be impressed by my status. I would not be the man I am today if someone had not taken me to task for my poor behaviour. I am glad that I am no longer the man I was. I would be a fool to complain that you saw what I did not.”

  Apollo had slowed with Darcy, but now began to follow Elizabeth, neighing at her.

  “Yes, I believe we shall have to agree to disagree,” Elizabeth said with a smile. She turned to pet Apollo.

  “If you wish. Now, I believe I had promised to explain my knowledge of Mr. Wickham to you,” Darcy said, uncomfortable with continuing her train of thought. He held out his arm again to escort Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth sobered. “I believe you merely told me ‘later.’ ”

  “Well, it is now ‘later,’ and as the rest of our party are not within earshot, I will fulfil my promise.” He took a deep breath. “George Wickham was the son of my father’s steward. My father held a deep respect for his father and so he sponsored Wickham to the same schools that I attended. We grew up together, and at one time, we were playmates. However, Wickham did not follow in his father’s worthy ways.” Darcy hesitated. “I have lately come to realise that I played a part in the dissolution of his character. My father held him in such affection that I faithfully ensured Wickham’s many indiscretions did not come to his notice; I did not want my father to be hurt by Wickham’s behaviour. Unfortunately, his lack of consequences may be why Wickham has continued his dissolute lifestyle.”

  “Mr. Darcy, you take too much upon yourself. You cannot control others’ actions.”

  “In one sense, you are correct, however, in another, are we not all responsible for each other? And further, are we not even more to blame if our actions have injured others?”

  “Perhaps. But are you not once more removing the consequences of his actions if you bear the responsibility for them? Mr. Wickham is his own person. He could have taken the loss of consequences as an opportunity for repentance rather than an opportunity for greater wrongdoing.”

  They walked for some minutes behind the group as Darcy pondered this thought in silence.

  “You are wise beyond your years,” Darcy finally said. “You are correct: Wickham could have done otherwise.” He squared his shoulders. “And it is compounding my mistake if I take responsibility for his actions. I can only take responsibility for my own.” He gave her a rueful half smile. “Which is certainly enough guilt to bear.”

  “You believe Mr. Wickham to be dangerous?” Elizabeth asked with a frown.

  “I believe your father ought to be warned, and I intend to do so today. Wickham has no honour—he will not scruple to ruin a gentlewoman,” Darcy said uncomfortably. His experience with Georgiana had taught him that keeping someone in ignorance was not the best for them, but it did not make discussing such topics easy.

  “What of the merchants in Meryton? Or the servants? The tenants?” Elizabeth pressed.

  “They are equally at risk.”

  “Why do you not denounce him?” she asked hotly, pulling her arm from his and rounding on him.

  “I cannot. Not without ruining my sister’s reputation, and I will not do that.”

  Elizabeth’s arms fell to her sides. “He has hurt her,” she murmured.

  “Yes. Though perhaps not as much as he could have.” He gestured for them to continue. “To the end of his days, my father continued to hold Wickham as a favourite—to such a degree that he left Wickham 1,000 pounds and recommended a valuable family living at Kympton be given to him once it became available. I gave him the 1,000 pounds, but I knew he ought not to be anyone’s spiritual advisor. Thus, when Wickham arrived at Pemberley asking for 3,000 pounds in lieu of the living, claiming to have an interest in pursuing a career in th
e law, I gave him the money.”

  Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “4,000 pounds? That is quite a sum of money to spend.”

  “Indeed, I thought it best to give him the money rather than keeping him tied to me for the rest of our lives, however, I have since wondered if it was—especially as I doubted from the beginning that the money would be spent in the pursuit of a law degree. I do not know how he spent it, but I do know that when the living became vacant some time later, he arrived to request the appointment, stating that he had reconsidered his decision. I refused him, and he was exceedingly angry. I then had reason to believe all interactions between us were at an end.”

  Darcy took a deep breath as his chest began to tighten. “Last summer, however, my fifteen-year-old sister Georgiana went to Ramsgate. She had been ill that spring, and the doctor recommended a course of sea air. Her companion, Mrs. Younge, whom I later learned was Wickham’s coconspirator, suggested Ramsgate, and, as I believed myself too busy to take her at the time, thither they went.”

  He swallowed hard. “It was by the merest fortunate happenstance that I arrived a day early to visit her. Wickham had spun a web of lies about how we were estranged, and Georgiana expected me to be overjoyed by their romance as soon as she was able to mediate between Wickham and I. Though she had intended to effect a reconciliation after their elopement, she was thrilled to have the opportunity to do so prior. She and Wickham had arranged to elope on the morrow, but she was hesitant to marry without my blessing and so she told me immediately of her plans, attempting to correct the ‘misunderstandings’ between Wickham and I.”

  Anguish clawed at his throat as he recalled the pain on Georgiana’s face when she had at last discovered Wickham’s true nature. “She would not believe me when I tried to tell her the truth of Wickham’s lies. I convinced her to hide where she could hear Wickham and me speak. I confronted Wickham and he spoke harshly about her. I will not go into details, but I have never seen my sister so shattered. Georgiana was my primary concern and so I let Wickham leave and convinced my cousin, whom I share guardianship of Georgiana with, not to duel him.”

  Elizabeth put a hand on his arm. “You had to protect your sister.”

  “Yes, but I should not have left him free to prey on others. The number of debts I have paid and other consequences I have ameliorated . . . well, he cannot be left free.”

  “You are warning us now,” Elizabeth offered.

  Darcy gave her a grateful smile. “Yes, however, I cannot follow him around warning others of his character forever. It is not practical, if nothing else.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I can see how it might take all your time.”

  “Indeed. I am also concerned that Wickham will ruin Georgiana’s reputation.”

  “As you have said.” Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps if someone else were to warn the town? Or if gossip of a certain type was spread.” She smiled mischievously. “You do have access to the two most proficient gossips in all of Meryton and its environs.”

  “I do?”

  “My mother and aunt.”

  “Ah. I had no idea their talents were so—extensive.”

  “We must each do what we are proficient at. Do you not agree?” Elizabeth asked playfully.

  “Perhaps, although a very wise woman once told me that proficiency is attained through practice,” Darcy said, his voice softening. “Learning new skills is not wasted effort.”

  “You speak of her as if she was someone special,” Elizabeth commented.

  Darcy smiled down at her. “She was much like you.”

  Elizabeth’s cheeks grew rosy. “I would not have guessed you to be a practiced flatterer, Mr. Darcy.”

  “I am not. I am afraid—I am afraid I sometimes give offense even without meaning to. You see, when my father died, I became one of the most sought-after bachelors in the ton.”

  “Modest too, I see.”

  Darcy blushed. “It is not immodesty to admit the truth, is it? I wish it was not true. I do not mean to sound like I am boasting. I have found that very few people weigh me on the merits of my character, instead weighing my pocketbook or my estate.”

  “So, you have people fawning over your money regularly. Perhaps that is why you appear to enjoy my impertinence.”

  “I do enjoy it. I feel that we truly talk to one another.”

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “We do talk to one another.”

  “I mean without pretense. I do not feel that you are speaking to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley—you are simply speaking to me as a man. And you treat me much the same as you treat others so I assume I am speaking to the real you as well.”

  Elizabeth smiled warmly. “I believe I understood that convoluted sentiment. I am now perfectly convinced you are not practiced in flattery.”

  “Thank you?”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “You are welcome. Now, about Mr. Wickham, what do you intend to tell my father?” she asked briskly.

  “Exactly what I have told you.”

  “Very well. I will warn you that he has not had the material transformation of his opinion in your character that I have just experienced. He may be less than welcoming.”

  Darcy frowned. “I do not recall offending him in some way. But if I have, I am very willing to make amends.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “It is your general character that is misunderstood throughout Meryton.”

  Darcy suppressed a shudder as he recalled Elizabeth’s criticism from Before: from the first moment of meeting him she had seen his arrogance, his conceit, and his selfish disdain of the feelings of others. Of course others would have seen these same things as well. At times, he wanted to shake his past self and tell him that this small country town would be of immeasurable importance to his future and that he was only harming himself if he continued to treat the occupants with contempt. But Fate had not given him any visions prior to his arrival in Hertfordshire. For whatever reason, he now had to live with the consequences of his actions of the past two months—thank God he did not have to live with the consequences of the following year!

  “I shall just have to do my best to convince him,” Darcy said with a sigh.

  “And I shall be there to support you,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, I doubt he will accuse you of making up your history with Mr. Wickham.”

  “You believe me, then?” Darcy asked. She had seemed sympathetic throughout his narrative, however, he still recalled her vehement defence of Wickham’s lies Before.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked curiously.

  “Wickham has been known to spread lies about our association,” Darcy said stiffly.

  “Well, I haven’t known him long enough for him to spread lies. Besides, you clearly love your sister: you would not fabricate a story that reflected badly on her.”

  “Thank you,” Darcy breathed. Perhaps Elizabeth’s future self had believed him as well before her death. If so, had she thought better of him? Had she gone through a material shift in perception?

  “What of Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth asked.

  “What of him?”

  “Do you intend to share Mr. Wickham’s misdeeds with him as well?”

  Darcy shook his head. “No. The fewer people who know of Georgiana’s indiscretion, the better. I trust you, and I believe that your father would keep my confidence as he has daughters himself. However, Mr. Collins will certainly tell my aunt even if he does not tell anyone else.”

  Elizabeth looked at him curiously. “Your aunt is not aware of the events of last summer?”

  “No. She has long wished to unite Pemberley with her estate Rosings. In addition, she would prefer to oversee Rosings until her death. If she can marry her daughter to someone who is deeply involved in their own estate, she will retain control of Rosings even after her daughter’s marriage.” He took a deep breath. “She has—attempted to gain guardianship of Georgiana, I assume in hopes of strengthening the ties between Rosings and Pemberley. After my father’s death, she argued that I wou
ld not have time nor the requisite skills to raise a young girl. She may have been right, but I could not subject Georgiana to life as Aunt Catherine’s ward.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Lady Catherine is very—forceful, and Georgiana is afraid of her.”

  “I see.”

  “Georgiana has always been somewhat timid, but her experiences last summer increased that timidity. I was being honest when I said she could learn from your sisters’ buoyant natures.”

  “Forgive me for doubting you,” Elizabeth said.

  Darcy slowed, forcing Apollo to slow as well. The horse harrumphed but quieted once Elizabeth matched her step to Darcy’s. “There is nothing to forgive. I am only sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

  Elizabeth’s gaze remained fixed on the road ahead of them. “Discomfort is necessary for growth. Perhaps it is I who made myself uncomfortable. Had I known you then as I know you now, I could not have suspected you of trying to mock my family.”

  “Though I am aware of their shortcomings, no one is without shortcomings. I would be a fool to mock them when I myself have much to learn.”

  Elizabeth looked pensive. “That is a unique stand to take. One that perhaps I would do well to adopt.”

  Darcy hesitated, then decided to at least give her an opportunity to talk about her concerns. She was fully capable of rejecting it if she did not wish to. “You mock your family?” he asked.

  “At times. I am like my father in that respect. It is easier to make light of the things you cannot change.”

  “Rather than brooding over them?”

  “Yes.”

  Darcy considered. “I can see the appeal of that approach; however, I fear I would not be content merely with the role of observer.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would be.”

  “And I am afraid I left much of my light-heartedness behind me in my childhood. I have begun to bring it out again, but I am very out of practice.”